Chapter Text
After the lawsuit, Buck wasn’t naive enough to think that he would be welcomed back with open arms and a party hat. Not after the way he’d seen the distrust gather in their eyes during that meeting with his lawyer and when Chimney had closed the elevator doors in his face, Buck was positive that any shred of friendship that may have remained after his long absence went up in smoke right in front of him.
He’d only been back for 2 weeks by this time and he was faring no better than that fateful day in the attorney’s building or later on in that grocery store. He’s been all but banished from the family gatherings after a shift and while at the firehouse, no one could even stomach the sight of him it seemed. Eddie hadn’t spoken a word to him, not even in reference to Christopher. He really missed that kid.
It was by chance that he learned just how bad fate had it out for him. He’d been almost excited to see his doctor after the months of physical therapy and testing. This was the appointment where they were expecting to pull him off the blood thinners. He had a plan in mind for just how he would tell the team too. Surely they would let him back on calls after he got his primary’s signature alongside his surgeon and physical therapists. And once he was back on that truck alongside his team they were sure to allow him back into the fold just like before this whole mess. Right?
.
.
.
He had been wrong.
.
.
.
So wrong that it was almost laughable and he did laugh sitting in his Jeep after the appointment even if it was a burst of bitter laughter that fate had been messing with him. He had been so close and now... Well, now there wasn’t much else he could do.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and tucked all of the paperwork in his hands into his glove box harshly. Fate was a bitch and Evan felt thoroughly fucked over after everything he had already been through. It wasn’t often that he found himself wallowing in self-pity but it felt like he was justified in it this time.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat in his car but it was a few hours surely. He was there to see the sun go down and the lights in the building go out. He watched as office staff, nurses, and doctors all departed the building returning to their families and their homes and he stayed right there thinking of his life and his next move.
All he really came up with in that time was that he really needed a drink. And Eddie. Eddie who probably wouldn't want to talk to him and definitely wouldn’t want to hear about his issues. He decided to be brave and try calling him anyway. He fished for his phone in his pocket and tapped his passcode into the device. It was unsurprising that he had no missed messages or calls. No one really contacted him anymore.
He punched the number in knowing it by heart and held it to his ear. He gnawed on his lip, anxiety getting the better of him at the moment. He didn’t know how to broach the subject after everything that had happened between the two of them,
It turns out he didn’t need to anyway because after two rings he was directed to the voicemail. Buck got the hint then and decided not to bother leaving a message. He was pretty sure that Eddie would delete it any way. He tried not to think about the sting of that realization. He chose the next best thing and took a left out of the parking lot and headed down the road to a familiar building.
He hadn’t had a drink in a while. Not since being put on the blood thinners at least. But tonight he felt justified as he tossed back shot after shot. He lost track of the number of shots and how long he had been sitting in that same stool. The bartender was nice enough and any other time he may have tried flirting but not today.
Probably not tomorrow either it seems.
He watched as the bartender picked up a glass and wiped at it with a towel eyeing him up and down. “What are you drinking to get away from tonight?’
He snorted into his glass before raising it in a mock toast. “Doesn’t look like I’m gonna get away from it. It’s in my blood.” He took another sip finishing the drink before dropping the glass back onto the counter with a fistful of bills. “Fucking cancer man.”
He saw the look in the bartender’s eyes turn from curious to pitying and he couldn’t stand that today. He took his leave deciding to walk the few blocks home and return for his Jeep the following day. It would be nice to take in the sights and smells of L.A. at night.
He must make for a sorry picture, stumbling about in the dark to get home. He did eventually make it to his apartment building and made his way up to his floor, keying into the loft.
He kicked the door shut behind him and the shoes on his feet into a corner. He’s got the bottle of whiskey from his cupboard out in no time and decides a glass was too much work. He chose instead to drink straight from the bottle slumping in a heap on his couch.
He sobs then, finally letting himself feel the injustice of it all. They had only given him 4 months.
He again pulls out his phone and dials the Diaz residence feeling guilty that it was late in the evening and he would be interrupting their nighttime routine.
He’s again sent to voicemail and he can’t stop himself this time.
‘Hey, Eds. I-I could really use a friend right now.’ He bites his lip again ignoring the sting when he breaks the skin. “I just need to talk to you ok? I’m sorry man. I’m just-- I’m sorry. Please?”
He drops the phone hearing it clatter to the ground next to him as he curls into a ball on his couch sobbing. He’s not sure just how long he remained in that position before sleep took him.
Buck was sure that Eddie would call him back after that voicemail. There had to be a small part of him that still cared a bit right? Buck really should have known better though. He was wrong again and it was proven the next evening at the firehouse. He had tried to approach Eddie, hoping that they might be able to talk. The older man had brushed him off at every pass. The last time he tried Eddie headed to the workout area and began punching the bag there. Buck took that as his cue to stop trying.
He decided then not to say anything about his diagnosis. Not to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim. He couldn’t stomach the thought of dumping his problems on any of them. His memory flashes back to that afternoon in the grocery store fumbling with cat laxatives as Eddie calls him out for being so exhausting. They had been interrupted by the squabble happening in the parking lot but Buck wanted to tell him that he was right.
He realized that Maddie couldn’t know either by extension and he knows that she will be so pissed once she finds out. He can’t have her fussing and worrying over him though. The doctor had outlined a grim future for him over the next few months and he couldn’t have her trying to be his cheerleader.
He decided then that he would do everything he could over the next few months to make sure that Maddie had nothing to worry about after he’s gone. He decided then that he would play the part they wanted him to at the firehouse. It wouldn’t be like before but at least he would still be able to see his family, even if they didn’t want to see him.
As the weeks pass Buck can feel himself growing weaker and his tasks heavier. He struggled now to get everything that is asked of him done while at the station but he can’t falter now. He wouldn’t let them think he couldn’t do this one simple thing.
He’d been reluctant to try chemotherapy given his prognosis and the advice of Dr. Serna, his oncologist. He knew that if he didn’t at least try it though Maddie would beat him with a stick. He had to try it if only to give her some peace of mind and comfort in knowing that he didn’t just lay down and die in the face of the same thing that killed Daniel. And what a shock that had been. Knowing he had a brother at one point and that the same thing that ended his life was coursing in his veins well, that was just the icing on top of his cake.
Soon after that visit with his parents, Buck found himself struggling to keep his hands steady enough to keep the Jeep in his lane. He called it two months after that fateful appointment. He parked the Jeep in a climate-controlled storage space for the last time. The tremors wracking his body and hands inhibited his ability to be a safe driver. No one really cared enough to question it when Buck began arriving to work in a cab
Three months into his disease the chemo really started to take hold and hit him with a vengeance. He felt sick constantly. It ravaged his body until his clothes were left hanging from his frame and his hair began to evacuate from his scalp.
The first time he awoke to tufts of hair on his pillow, Buck had allowed himself a day spent in bed wallowing and mourning the loss. He’d picked himself up the following day and fished around in his closet for a familiar LAFD cap. He had swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, abandoning his vanity, and secured the cap to his head before heading out determined to be better today than he was yesterday.
It was almost a wake-up call for him really. After that morning he had headed straight to an attorney to organize his will and arrange the remainder of his affairs. They had drawn up his will and outlined his end-of-life care plan with all the professionalism that Chase Mackey had lacked.
He’d been just leaving the building when a familiar black truck had pulled up and parked along the street just down the road. Buck felt silly for hesitating, so unsure if he was making the right choice to try and engage Eddie in some sort of conversation. He reminded himself that he had vowed to be better today and called out without putting more thought into it.
“Hey, Eddie!” Buck waves at him from the doorway of the attorney’s office building. Eddie had merely frowned in response with an arched eyebrow. Buck lowered his hand then feeling like an idiot for trying.
“Planning on suing anyone else, Buckley?” Buck had looked up with a start, honestly having half expected the man to either outright ignore him or turn around and pull out again abandoning whatever task had brought him to this part of town.
“No.” Buck says this so quietly he’s not sure if Eddie could even hear it. He returned his gaze to the pebbles near his feet with remorse clogging his throat, strangling him. Eddie huffed in response before blowing past him, roughly shouldering him in the chest as he went.
After that encounter, Buck had tried to give the man more space but the clock was ticking even if he was the only one who knew it. He tried to work harder, to make up with the team by doing little things where he could and trying to bring anyone into a conversation. He realized though soon after their encounter that word of him seeing an attorney again must have spread. He got a cold silence in return from everyone he tried to approach.
Everything he was doing seemed in vain at this point and Buck felt the despair finally wash over him with her cold embrace in the privacy of the bunk room that night while his team once again went out on a call, leaving him behind.
What Buck didn’t know was that Hen had recognized the name of that attorney and knows him to be a specialist in some regards. It was the same attorney that Karen’s mother had gone to see last year when she received a bad prognosis. That attorney focuses on end-of-life processes and preparations. It didn't make any sense to her that Buck would be meeting with them to sue anyone. On the other hand, Buck and end of life anything shouldn’t exist in the same space.
She decided quickly to bring Athena into the mix to do some sleuthing and sent off a text asking her to come to the station for tea this evening.
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Evan, in his will, left everything of value to Maddie while splitting his life insurance benefit between her and a trust fund in Christopher’s name. He’d already sold off most of his belongings and organized everything else in a neat fashion. He remembered the harrowing process he watched Abby face in the wake of her mother’s passing and he did not want Maddie to be forced into a similar situation. Not on his behalf.
He’d opted against a traditional funeral so sure after that day curled up in the bunks sobbing until his chest hurt with exertion that no one would care to attend anyway. He outlined his final wishes to the attorney with instructions for a cremation. He asked only that his ashes be given to Carla so that she could spread them somewhere beautiful with Christopher. He wasn’t entirely convinced that Eddie wouldn’t just flush them down the toilet after all. He felt a bit regretful that he would be causing the kind woman trouble even after he was gone.
It’s four months and two days after he received his diagnosis that his body finally failed him. It was an especially grueling day at the firehouse doing the chores and cleaning each engine from top to bottom until they shone. He had barely made it into his apartment before he was feeling the now common fuzziness. What was new though was that he didn’t have enough energy to fight it at least until he was in bed or laid out on the couch. Getting up the stairs was more of a chore these days than he’d like to admit.
It’s Athena who finds him collapsed on the floor of his loft. She knew he was home as the neighbor who heard her knocking kindly informed her that he had been home for hours at this point. Sure that he was just asleep, Athena almost left. Some nagging feeling in the back of her mind however prompted her to bend at the waist and pull Buck’s spare key from its hiding spot and key into the apartment.
What she opened the door to made her heart drop. Still wearing his uniform, Buck laid in a heap on the cool tile floor of his kitchen. He must have been like this for hours is the only thought running through her head as she hits the floor on her knees beside him. She has her cell phone out and calling 911 in an instant feeling along his neck for his pulse. She breathed out in relief when she found one though it was thready and weak.
She’s speaking with the operator soon and reliving the awful nightmare of seeing another one of her kids in this state. Because that’s what Buck was to her. He was much older than May or Harry and not blood but he was still hers.
The tiny voice coming from her cell phone instructs her to roll him onto his side in case he starts to get sick while awaiting the EMTs. She’s rolling him onto his side when the sight in front of her steals away any breath she might have had left in her lungs.
It’s not the way his skin stretched tight over his bones or the deep circles tattooed under his eyes. It’s not even the way his uniform hangs off of him in drapes of fabric. No, the worst part and the part that starts to slot all of the other puzzle pieces into place is that bald head exposed by the LAFD cap Buck had taken to wearing evacuating from its position on his head.
She’s shaken from her stupor quite literally by the EMTs arrival. They were gentle in their instruction to move out of the way. She vaguely recognizes the first responder as one of the 118’s B-shift members. Knowing that word will spread quickly she pulls out her cell phone after Buck is wheeled away and taps a quick message to the main team under Bobby.
Meet me at the hospital.
That’s all she writes and she avoids answering any of their questions, knowing that there are still lingering feelings of hurt over the lawsuit and unwilling to risk that they wouldn’t show up for Buck.
She takes a sweeping look around the loft before closing the door. It looks so different from the last time she had seen it so many months ago. It looks like a ghost had been living there with none of the usual comforts of home. It looked like Buck had been preparing for a move and while Athena wished that was all this was she couldn’t ignore all of the evidence piling up in front of her.
Evan Buckley was living like he was planning to die.