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They’ve signed paperwork. A huge stack of it.
Eddie remembers it vividly, because it was only a few weeks ago – “firefighters must remain impartial and professional at all times, protocol must be followed regardless of personal relationships.”
So he knows he can’t run into a burning building that’s been deemed unstable just because Buck is still inside.
“If either of you does anything that goes against these rules you just signed,” Bobby told them, “and someone finds out – I’m not gonna have much of a standing, no matter how much I don’t want to separate you.”
Knowing all of this doesn’t make it easier, and neither does Hen’s iron grip on his arm.
Eddie would have wanted to run inside when Buck was just his best friend. But now he’s Buck, the love of Eddie’s life, his partner in everything, Christopher’s second dad, the man Eddie wants to grow old with. So he needs to come out of that building now , because Eddie’s not interested in life without him, now that he knows what it’s like with him.
“Hen –” he starts, and she only tightens her grip.
“No,” she says, “I’m not letting you in there. We don’t need both of you in danger.”
“What if he needs help?”
“We have to trust that he can get himself out. We don’t know where exactly he is, it’s too risky, Eddie.”
“Firefighter Buckley, come in,” Bobby says into his radio. It’s been barely a minute since he last did it, but Buck hasn’t responded, and Eddie can hear the strain in Bobby’s voice.
Their radios crackle and Buck’s voice comes through, breathless. “I’m okay, Cap, I’m on my way out now. I’ve got the girl.”
The mother inside the ambulance lets out a sob and Eddie’s knees nearly buckle in relief, and he’s grateful for Hen’s hand still on his arm. She squeezes it again.
“See?”
Buck’s not outside yet, so Eddie remains tense, eyes on the door of the blazing building.
“Copy that,” Bobby radioes. “What’s your position?”
There’s no answer and Eddie closes his eyes, sending up an instinctive prayer. They need a position if they want any chance of going inside to help Buck, should things go sideways. There’s no way Bobby will let them go in completely blind.
“Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby repeats more urgently. “What’s your position?”
Eddie focuses on the feeling of Hen’s fingers around his arm. Chimney jumps from the ambulance and stands on his other side, shifting from one foot to the other.
Instead of a reply, there’s another crash from the building, another plume of smoke going up. Eddie flinches, and Chimney grabs his other arm.
“Cap, let me go in there,” Eddie tries, even though he knows the answer already.
Bobby looks at him and keys his radio once more. “Buck, come in.”
Buck doesn’t answer, but barely 20 – excruciating – seconds later, a figure becomes visible through the smoke in the doorway.
Eddie stumbles forward, dragging Hen and Chimney with him until they catch on and let go, all three of them rushing forward.
It’s Buck, of course, and he’s carrying a child in his arms, protecting as much of her small body from the heat and flames as he can. He’s placed his mask and helmet on her head, and Eddie falters when he sees the blood running down his face.
Hen and Chimney take the girl from Buck and Chimney turns to Eddie to ask, “You okay to check him over?”
“Yeah,” Eddie croaks, and then he’s reaching for Buck, hands patting down his arms and chest to check for invisible injuries.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, reaching Buck’s face with careful fingers.
“Not badly,” Buck says, coughing roughly. “Something grazed my head when it fell but it doesn’t hurt much.”
“You’re bleeding,” Eddie murmurs, grasping Buck’s chin so he can tilt his head for a better look at the origin of the blood.
“I’m fine, Eds,” Buck says. His voice sounds rough and his hand is clenched tightly around the fabric of Eddie’s turnout coat.
“Still need to check you over,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hands from Buck’s face. No PDA at work, that’s another rule.
Buck gives him a half-smile and lets go of him just as reluctantly. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Since Hen and Chimney are busy with their patients in the ambulance, Eddie makes Buck sit on the edge of the fire truck while he gathers the supplies he needs. He presses an oxygen mask to Buck’s face, who rolls his eyes but keeps it there, taking slow, steady breaths.
Eddie cleans his face and disinfects the small wound on his temple, as gently as possible, stroking his thumb along Buck’s jaw apologetically when he winces at the sting. It looks like just a scratch, the bleeding slowing down already, and Eddie puts a butterfly bandage over it.
“Any dizziness?” he asks Buck, “Nausea? Pain?”
Buck shakes his head, then winces slightly, so Eddie goes through the concussion checks until he’s decently sure that Buck doesn’t have an invisible head injury.
Next, Eddie pushes Buck’s turnout coat off his shoulders so he can listen for unusual lung sounds. He doesn’t find any, which means Buck probably didn’t inhale too much smoke.
“Eddie,” Buck says, lifting his mask to speak.
Eddie presses it back down. “Keep that on.”
Buck catches his hand and squeezes, watching him from below. Eddie breathes out shakily, eyes flicking all over Buck’s face and body, trying to see if he missed anything.
“You’re shaking,” Buck says, muffled from below the mask. He reaches for Eddie’s other hand, which Eddie didn’t even notice was shaking.
“You scared me,” Eddie admits quietly, squeezing Buck’s hand.
Buck squeezes back and leans forward until his forehead is resting against Eddie’s stomach. “‘m sorry.”
Eddie lets go of one of Buck’s hands so he can card his fingers through Buck’s hair instead.
“It’s not your fault,” he says, because it isn’t. Buck was doing his job, it wasn’t his fault that the fire escalated quicker than expected after he and Eddie split up to get the mother and daughter respectively. “Just wish I’d been there to help.”
“Nah,” Buck says, shaking his head against Eddie’s stomach. “I’m glad you were safe.”
“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck looks up at him. His face is still a little sooty, and Eddie loves him so much he doesn’t know what to do with it sometimes. “I can’t lose you.”
Buck’s face softens. “I’m fine, Eds. And I promise I’ll do anything to come back to you, always.”
“You better,” Eddie murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, and then his carefully bandaged temple. “I don’t wanna do this without you.”
“Do what?” Buck asks. He’s still holding onto one of Eddie’s hands, the other one resting on Eddie’s hip under his coat, warm even through his uniform.
Eddie shrugs. “Life.”
“Oh.” Buck smiles, a little wobbly. “I wanna do life with you, too.”
“You should move in with us,” Eddie blurts out, completely unplanned. Buck’s eyes widen. “I mean – only if you want to, of course. But I know Christopher would love it if you were always there, and I…Buck, I don’t ever want to be without you. I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night, I want to do our dishes with you in our kitchen, I want us to raise our kid together all day every day, and for you to come home to us always. Forever.” He stops and takes a deep breath, feeling flushed and a little embarrassed. Awkwardly, he adds, “If that’s what you want, too.”
Buck’s hand slips further around Eddie’s middle, pulling him closer so he has to stand in between Buck’s legs. Eddie’s pretty sure that means there’s no rejection coming, especially considering the smile spreading across Buck’s face.
“Forever, huh?” Buck asks, and Eddie can feel himself blush even more. Of course that’s the part Buck focuses on.
He tries to play it off with an eye roll. “I can still retract my question.”
“No, don’t,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s side. “Yes, I’ll move in with you. Of course I will. And of course I want to do all of those things with you forever, too.”
“Okay,” Eddie smiles, tracing the line of Buck’s eyebrow with a soft finger, the slope of his nose, his full lips. “So don’t scare me like that again. ‘Cause I plan on us growing old and gray together.”
Buck kisses his finger and then tilts his head in a clear invitation that Eddie can’t resist. He figures if they’ve gotten away with it so far, they can risk sneaking a few kisses, too.
So he leans down and kisses Buck’s temple again, then his birthmark, and finally his mouth.
They keep it chaste, just one, two, three soft kisses before Eddie straightens up again.
“I love you,” he says, and Buck hugs him close, still sitting on the edge of the engine.
“I love you, too,” he mumbles as Eddie rubs a hand up and down his back. “Sorry for scaring you.”
They’ve got dangerous jobs, and it’s impossible to promise they’re always going to make it out safe, they both know that all too well. But what’s certain is that they will both do everything in their power to keep their little family safe and sound and whole.
And that’s what matters.