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These days the memory seems more like just a bad dream. There’s a hazy quality to it, like most dreams, patchy and indistinct, and the harder he tries to reach for it, the further it floats away.
The truth is Buck doesn’t remember much of the actual explosion or lying there in the street afterwards. He’s seen the footage— one night during his recovery his curiosity had gotten the better of him— but he doesn’t feel a connection to the person on the screen. It’s almost like it could have happened to someone else, like that’s not really him lying there crushed and screaming. He doesn’t feel like the same person, and he’s not, not any more.
That was before the tsunami, before the lawsuit. It was also before the well and the shooting and Eddie making Buck Chris’s legal guardian.
It was before—
“Buck?” Eddie’s voice cuts through the darkness, startling Buck out of his thoughts. “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Buck stares out the window. He watches the rain beat down against the window, the fat droplets, illuminated by the streetlight, dripping down the glass. “Couldn’t sleep. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.” The soft pad of bare feet echoes across the kitchen and a warm body presses to his back. “You want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing.” Buck turns to face Eddie, hissing when he shifts his weight onto his left leg. He’d forgotten, too caught up in his head, the reason he’d finally given up on sleep to come out to the kitchen.
“It’s the rain, isn’t it?” Buck can feel Eddie’s gaze on him in the dark. “Have you taken something yet?”
Buck shakes his head. It was the only time his leg really bothered him these days; when the weather changed and the rain poured down. Tonight it had just so happened to coincide with the fragments of a half remembered dream.
“Okay.” Eddie moves away, navigating through the dimly lit kitchen with a practiced ease. He rummages around in the cupboard high above the fridge, returning a moment later with two small, white pills. “Take these.” He presses the painkillers into Buck’s hand and fills a glass with water. There’s no judgement in his expression while he waits for Buck to swallow the pills, no push to get him moving so Eddie can get back to bed, he just stands there patiently while Buck drains the glass, then takes his hand to pull him from the room.
Buck is expecting to be dragged back to bed to lie awake for the rest of the night, but instead Eddie herds him towards the couch.
“Sit.” He pushes Buck down and sits on the opposite end of the couch, pulling Buck’s legs into his lap. With steady hands he runs his fingers up Buck’s leg towards his knee, seeking out the tender spots that are keeping him awake. With deft movements he eases out the knots in Buck’s cramping muscles. "Let me know if it's too much pressure," he says, words light, like it's no big deal that Buck has dragged him from bed.
Buck knows he should say something, he should send Eddie back to bed so at least one of them has the chance for a decent night's rest. It feels so good though, the drag of Eddie’s fingertips lights sparks across his skin and the massage already has him feeling loose and relaxed.
Easing back into the cushions, Buck lets his eyes drift shut. The sound of the rain is soothing now that it’s no longer the source of his discomfort. He’s not sure how long he drifts.
Eddie finds a particularly sore spot and Buck makes a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Sorry.” Eddie eases off the pressure.
“No, it’s good,” Buck mumbles, half asleep. “Keep going.”
“Or,” Eddie suggests, running his hands lightly up the back of Buck’s leg. “Maybe you should come back to bed.” He rubs circles into the skin above Buck’s knee. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
Buck hums his agreement, too floppy to move.
“Come on, let’s go.” Eddie drags him up onto his feet and this time he can stand without pain.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Buck groans, letting Eddit pull him towards the bedroom.
The sheets have gone cold but Eddie is warm as Buck curls around him and as the rain finally eases, Buck drifts back to sleep.