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Tears clumped on Buck’s eyelashes as he watched Mackey finish his preparations. He was far beyond the point of fearing for his own life—a morose sort of resignation to his fate had hit somewhere around the point when Mackey first showed Buck the bomb he’d set up—but it was the idea that others would be hurt by Mackey’s revenge scheme that terrified him.
He hated that it was his own fault that Mackey was here in the first place.
He hated that if he’d just sucked it up and not reached out to Mackey at all, there never would have been a settlement offer to turn down and the man never would have felt the need to go to such lengths to make him miserable.
Mackey wouldn’t be satisfied by just killing Buck. He wanted Buck to suffer. He wanted Buck to feel responsible for the deaths of his neighbors and the unfortunate loved one who would first stop by his apartment to see why he wasn’t responding to phone calls or text messages.
He had succeeded spectacularly.
Buck tried to inhale stealthily through his nose, the congestion from holding back his sobs making the task difficult, but he didn’t want to give Mackey the satisfaction of hearing him sniffle pathetically. It worked, to a point, until Buck became desperate for more oxygen and he had to throw his pride out the window in favor of not asphyxiating.
“It’s alright, Buckley,” Mackey said mockingly. He’d just finished tying the string to his door handle and threading it through one of the steps leading up to his bed and was now making his way back to Buck. Mackey stopped in front of him, one hand holding the end of the string, the other burying itself in Buck’s hair to force Buck to look up at him.
Buck glared at the man, but he knew the effect was ruined by the tears now falling from his eyes and the still constant sniffles he had to maintain to keep breathing. Mackey smirked, sliding his hand until his thumb could swipe through Buck’s tears and then settling on Buck’s jaw, the same thumb swiping lovingly at the duct tape on his mouth.
Mackey’s hand slid down Buck’s neck to rest on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Buck flinched at the pressure on his broken collarbone. Buck’s entire body felt sore from the beating Mackey had given him prior to revealing the bomb and his grand scheme. He still felt foolish for having let Mackey into his apartment in the first place, under the guise of paperwork that needed to be signed to close out his case. It hadn’t made much sense to Buck—and now he knew it was because the whole thing was bullshit—but he didn’t know enough about the legal system to call Mackey out on it. So he’d let him inside and let his guard down as he sat down to sign whatever, and then there was a pinch in his neck and the next thing he knew, he was waking up tied to that same chair. And then Mackey had let loose a spew of verbal and physical abuse and Buck could only sit there and take it.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be over so fast you won’t feel a thing,” Mackey said, punctuating the statement by digging his thumb into Buck’s broken collarbone. Buck thrashed, screaming against the tape, and then once again finding himself in danger of asphyxiating as he tried to heave gasping breaths through his congested nose.
Mackey removed his hand, and after a mocking double pat to Buck’s cheek, he bent down and started fussing with the bomb under Buck’s seat, presumably tying the end of the string to whatever trigger system was set up. Buck wished he could see what Mackey was doing but part of him was relieved that he’d only had to look at the bomb for the few moments it took for Mackey to taunt him with it before it was placed under his chair and out of view.
“Whoever opens the door though, hmmm, I can’t say the same for them,” Mackey continued, throttling Buck’s heart rate with every word. “Who do you think will be the first to care that you’re missing, huh? Your sister, maybe? Your captain? The one with the cripple son, perhaps?”
Buck lunged, unable to really move farther than an inch with how much tape had him restrained to his chair, but he couldn’t help the reflexive lurch at the insult towards Christopher.
Mackey chuckled. “He was so furious with you at the hearing, do you remember?” Of course Buck remembered; the scathing looks on his teammates’ faces continued to haunt his dreams even after he’d made up with everyone. “Imagine how furious he’d be with you if he brought his son over to see you and boom. The little one protecting daddy from the shrapnel so daddy gets to live with the knowledge that you’re responsible for his son’s death.”
Buck sobbed because Mackey was right. Eddie would blame him if Christopher died because of his own selfishness. Eddie already hated what the lawsuit put them through, but if it ended up costing him Christopher too? No apology in the world would make up for that.
And Buck wouldn’t even be alive to try and grovel.
“Maybe you could invite them both over?”
At first, the threat sounded like idle banter. After all, Buck wasn’t exactly in a position where he could call Eddie and actually extend the offer—though he wouldn’t even if under duress. But then Buck caught sight of his phone in Mackey’s hand, and his struggles against the duct tape renewed.
There was nothing Buck could do as Mackey took his trapped finger and forced him to unlock his phone. And then Buck could only cry and watch as Mackey typed out a message, presumably to Eddie.
“‘Hey, what are you and Christopher up to? Would you be interested in coming over and watching a movie? I may have a present for the little guy I want to give him also.’ How’s that sound?” Mackey asked. Buck screamed against the tape, unable to form the words he wanted to spew, and Mackey merely smirked at him. “Aaand sent.”
Breathing was becoming difficult again, and Buck hated that he had to try and calm himself over Eddie and Christopher’s impending death just so he could stay alive for a few more minutes. Mackey seemed amused by his predicament, and even moved to pinch Buck’s nose to cut off his breathing completely. Buck flinched away and before Mackey’s hand could actually touch him, Buck’s phone pinged with a message.
Forget Mackey’s hand, Buck felt like he couldn’t breathe anyway.
Mackey took his time reading the response, face carefully neutral to not give anything away, and then he let out an exaggerated sigh before looking at Buck again.
“Aww, looks like little Diaz is spending the day with friends, but Eddie’s on his way over!” Mackey declared cheerfully even as a block of ice dropped in Buck’s stomach. At least Christopher wouldn’t be in danger, and that did settle something in Buck, but Eddie...
Eddie lived about thirty minutes away, so unless Eddie was already out and about, Buck figured he could count on Eddie taking a few minutes to get ready or let Christopher know where he was...Buck had thirty-five minutes tops.
Thirty-five minutes to...what? Try and convince Mackey not to do this? Buck couldn’t exactly negotiate his way out of this without a voice, and turning pleading and teary eyes on the man would only make him smirk and laugh at him.
Mackey straightened up and left Buck’s phone on the nearby counter. He inspected his work, gaze trailing from the bomb and following along the string’s path to the door. Buck wondered how the man expected to leave the apartment with the rigging set up the way it was.
Mackey nodded to himself, seemingly satisfied with the set up, and turned a grin on Buck. “Well, I don’t want to hang around if Diaz is on his way. Any last words, Buckley?”
Buck really hoped his emphatic ‘Fuck you!’ was evident even through the duct tape. Mackey’s smirk indicated that it was but it wasn’t as satisfying as Buck had hoped it would be.
“One last thing before I go...”
Mackey stepped back to the previously discarded roll of duct tape and pulled another strip of it. He approached Buck again and leaned in close, raising the sticky side towards Buck’s face.
“Unless you want to feel what it’s like for your eyeballs to be taped, you should close your eyes, Buckley.” It was the last thing Buck wanted to do, but he also didn’t want the duct tape to go over his open eyes, as Mackey was entirely capable of doing if he didn’t cooperate.
Buck closed his eyes reluctantly, and Mackey placed the tape roughly over them, securing the long piece of tape somewhere behind his head. Mackey gave him one last slap to his face as he pulled away.
“Have a good rest of your life, Buckley. The few short minutes it will be.”
With those parting words, Buck listened as Mackey’s footsteps faded as he headed towards Buck’s apartment door. Buck could hear him fiddling with the handle, maybe making sure the string would still be secured properly after he closed the door again, and after a minute or so of shuffling, the door closed with a finite click.
The next person who opened his apartment door would set the bomb off.
Eddie would set it off.
Eddie would open the door and lay eyes on Buck and just a moment later the bomb would go off, killing Buck, probably Eddie, and maybe some of his neighbors depending on who was home and how the structure handled the concussive blast.
He had to warn Eddie somehow. His phone was right there but he couldn’t reach it or even activate the voice prompt as he was. His hands and body were far too well restrained...but a single piece of duct tape covered his mouth, and it wasn’t wrapped around his head like the eye tape was.
Maybe Buck could uncover his mouth in time.
It was his only chance.
Buck started by trying to force spit through his lips, trying to loosen the adhesive enough to allow his tongue through. He worked his jaw at the same time, working the edges of the tape and hoping that eventually he’d make headway. He had to assume he had less than ten minutes to make this work.
His jaw wasn’t producing much results yet, but the spit had worked to allow his tongue to slip past his lips, and Buck worked his tongue to reach as much of the tape as possible. The adhesive tasted horrible, but it was a small price to pay to save Eddie’s life.
Buck couldn’t be sure how much time passed, but he knew the clock was against him as the loose pocket around his mouth slowly expanded. His jaw and tongue ached at the constant movement, but he was making progress so he continued to spit and lick and work his jaw even with the pain.
Buck had just managed to loosen an edge of the tape when he heard footsteps in the hallway. They weren’t necessarily Eddie’s, but Buck’s panic ratched up and he licked more furiously at the tape edge, trying to loosen it enough to the point where he could open his mouth and form words.
The footsteps stopped at his door.
Eddie was here.
Buck could hear the key scraping at the lock, he didn’t have time to even call him now, he’d have to yell.
Buck tried to open his mouth as widely as possible, the strain on his jaw near unbearable but the tape was slipping—
The lock clicked—
The tape finally came free on his right side—
“EDDIE, STOP! STOP MOVING!”
The movement outside halted and Buck’s breath felt like it would explode in his lungs.
“Please don’t move!” Buck repeated, ears straining to listen to whether or not Eddie was obeying.
“I’m not moving, I promise,” Eddie replied, and Buck let out a deep sigh of relief. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Don’t open the door, it’s rigged!” Buck yelled, still working his jaw to try and dislodge the tape further. “If you open the door, a bomb will go off.”
“What?!”
“Please, just...stay out there, okay?”
“I’m gonna get help, Buck, I promise! Just hang tight, okay? Are you injured?”
“Uhhh.”
“Buck!”
“There’s definitely some broken things and bleeding,” Buck admitted finally. “I’m not sure how bad it is, I can’t see.”
“Okay. Okay, just hold on, alright? Does the bomb have a backup timer?”
Buck blanched. Mackey never mentioned anything about a backup timer, he seemed pretty all-in on the idea of someone opening the door and manually triggering the bomb.
“He didn’t say.”
“Who?”
Buck swallowed thickly. “My lawyer,” Buck admitted finally. He was almost glad that he couldn’t see Eddie’s reaction to who had put them in this situation. He didn’t think he could handle the look of disdain on Eddie’s face even if he was mostly sure it was entirely aimed at Mackey. “Can I call you? My throat kinda hurts and I’d rather not keep yelling.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m gonna conference in 9-1-1.”
“Hey Hildy, call Eddie.”
“Calling Eddie.”
Buck waited for the call to connect and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Eddie’s voice on the line.
“I’m gonna call 9-1-1, okay?”
“Yeah. Hey, Eddie! You should call whoever has Christopher, just in case—I don’t think Mackey will do that but—I mean he was willing to lure him here, so—”
“Yeah, I’ll handle it.”
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“Maddie!”
“Buck? Are you alright?”
“Maddie, it’s Eddie. We need bomb squad and an RA at Buck’s apartment.”
“My lawyer rigged a bomb to go off if anyone opens my apartment door,” Buck added. “Eddie’s standing outside now.”
“You both need to clear the building. Bomb squad and an RA is on its way, but why the medical call?”
“I can’t clear the building—”
“I’m not leaving Buck.”
“Okay...Buck, are you injured?” Maddie asked, putting context clues together.
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s urgent. Or...” Buck winced, not wanting to share this bit with his sister but knowing he had to give Dispatch all the information they needed to do their job. “I think the bomb I’m sitting on is the more pressing matter.”
Maddie sucked in a sharp breath on the other end of the line.
“The bomb is under a chair that I’m tied to,” Buck clarified. He was impressed with his own ability to remain calm despite the explosive he was sitting on top of, if only to help Maddie keep calm about the situation. Though he truly did feel more at ease now that he knew Eddie—nor anyone else—wouldn’t be triggering the bomb any time soon.
“Okay, Buck, can you tell me anything more about the bomb or the trigger set up?” Maddie asked.
“I only got a look at the bomb for a few seconds, but he implied it would take out some of my neighbors with the blast along with me.”
“Who implied? Buck, who did this? Your lawyer?”
“Chase Mackey.”
“Buck’s lawyer from the lawsuit,” Eddie clarified, and Buck really couldn’t decipher his tone of voice.
“Mackey rigged the door so if it opens too wide, it’ll pull a string connected to the detonator. I’m not sure how he was able to leave without ruining the setup, I was blindfolded by that point, but he spent a lot of time at the door making sure it was still set up, and then he armed the bomb after.”
“Is the door the only trigger?”
“I think so. I was able to see most of what he was doing until the end, and then I only heard him move towards the apartment door.”
“So I could get to you through the fire escape and balcony.”
“Eddie, no, wait until bomb squad arrives—”
“Buck can’t see the bomb and we don’t know if it has a backup timer that’ll set it off earlier. I need to get in there now.”
“Eddie—”
“Eddie, no, you have to make sure no one touches the door—”
“I’ll lock it again, and the police know not to open it, who else would open it? I’m going.”
Maddie continued to try and reason with Eddie, but from what Buck could hear from the phone, Eddie was running as fast as he could to get to the fire escape and subsequently to his balcony.
“It’s no use, Maddie,” Buck said fondly.
Maddie sighed aggravatedly on the phone. “Clearly. Police should be there in three minutes, bomb squad in seven. RA should be there soon too but they won’t actually be able to get to you until the scene is clear. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Saying ‘I’ll live’ seems a bit on the nose, but yeah, I’m alright. Just sore for the most part.”
“Buck.”
Buck didn’t think it was fair for Maddie to break out the ‘big sister voice’ on a 9-1-1 call. “Alright, so I got beat up pretty well. Pretty sure a few of my ribs are at least cracked, and my collar bone is definitely broken. I don’t think anything else is broken. Things are probably bleeding but I genuinely have no idea how bad, but the fact that I’m lucid and talking has to be a good sign, right?”
Maddie sighed. “Well say something if you start deteriorating, okay? Until someone gets in there, you’re our eyes and—well, just ears, I guess.”
A thud from somewhere behind him caught Buck’s attention and he tensed involuntarily, ears straining to listen—
The balcony door slid open and moments later—
“Buck, what have I told you about locking your balcony slider?” Eddie said exasperatedly, closing the door behind him and taking cautious steps towards Buck..
“I’m in the apartment, it doesn’t need to be locked,” Buck bantered reflexively. “And you’re welcome for not making you have to break the door to get in.”
“Yeah, yeah—” Eddie cut himself off with a hiss as he approached Buck, and Buck had to wonder what he looked like to give Eddie such a reaction. “Buck...” he whispered.
“Check the bomb,” Buck interrupted, not wanting Eddie to get stuck on his state of being; realistically, he knew he probably looked like shit. “The string is on my right side near the front—”
“I see it.”
“Is there a timer? How much time’s left?”
“This isn’t like the movies, Buck. There isn’t gonna be a clock display or something,” Eddie said, moving somewhere to Buck’s left. He sounded like his head was below Buck’s, meaning he was bending down to look at the bomb.
“Then how are we gonna know if there’s a timer—?!”
“Ssssh,” Eddie shushed, and Buck resisted the urge to feel indignant knowing that Eddie was trying to figure out how much danger they were all in. “I don’t hear an analog timer going, and this setup doesn’t look advanced enough to program in a digital timer. I think it only has the capability for on and off.”
“That’s good. That’s good, right?”
“That’s good, it means we’re in less of a rush.”
Buck sighed.
“I’d rather you both get the hell out of there, even if there isn’t a timer.”
“No arguments from me, Mads.”
Eddie started by removing what was left of the tape hanging from the corner of his mouth, then started to work the tape out of his hair so he could uncover Buck’s eyes. Buck tried to withhold his winces whenever his hair would get caught or pulled too hard, but he couldn’t always manage it and Eddie always gave him whispered and soothing apologies whenever it happened. Finally, Eddie started working on the tape on Buck’s face and gently pulled the tape away so it wouldn’t snag on his eyebrows and lashes.
Buck blinked exaggeratedly a few times, the stickiness from his tears and the adhesive uncomfortably pulling at his lashes every time.
“You okay?”
Eddie’s eyes were clear and focused on him and so obviously flooded in concern that Buck felt sucker punched by the intensity of it. He couldn’t even manage a nod to allay Eddie’s worries and instead a punched sigh forced its way out of him.
Eddie seemed to realize what Buck was unable to give a voice to and nodded, moving his attention to the absurd amount of duct tape restraining him to his chair.
Time passed in a blur as Eddie freed Buck from his chair and guided him on unsteady legs to the balcony and fire escape—grabbing Buck’s phone and still active 9-1-1 call with Maddie on the way. Through the paramedics checking him out to the bomb squad clearing his apartment and conducting a controlled detonation in the apartment parking lot, Eddie stayed by Buck's side with his arm around Buck’s waist to steady him. Eddie only let go when the paramedics needed to tend to Buck’s ribs, but even then, Eddie remained.
“I’m his partner,” Eddie said when the paramedics tried to keep him out of the ambulance, and yeah, Buck knew that Eddie was probably leaning hard into their working relationship and letting the paramedics assume. But as Eddie held Buck’s hand from the moment they settled into the ambulance and all the way until Athena let them know in the hospital that Mackey had been taken into custody, Buck thought the statement might ring true in other ways as well.
“I’m glad you’re alright, cariño,” Eddie whispered as Athena left them alone, raising their clasped hands to his lips to give Buck’s knuckles a chaste kiss.
“Thanks for—” Thanks for what? Braving a bomb because Buck had gotten himself into a stupid situation? Freeing him and understanding him when he couldn’t voice what the experience had done to him? For being there from start to finish and never once leaving Buck’s side? “Just...thanks.”
Eddie smiled and squeezed their hands, and once again it felt like Eddie knew exactly what Buck couldn’t find the words to say. “Always,” he said. And Buck believed him.