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Something smells. Smoke? Gasoline? Blood? All of them? It's not right. It doesn't feel right. His body feels heavy, a dead weight. Like it doesn't belong to him. Why is everything dark? Oh, his eyes are closed. Why did he close them in the first place? He needs to open his eyes, but he doesn't want to. His eyelids are too heavy. It's too much work. Too much energy. He doesn't have that. He wants to sleep. It's tempting, warm. But something tells him he needs to. It's his only chance. If he doesn't open them now, he will never get to open them again. He doesn't have a choice. He has to wake up. C'mon, Buckley.
Buck slowly tries to open his eyes but it doesn't last long—his eyes betray him and threaten to droop. Everything is hazy. He can't focus on anything. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces them open one more time. He tries to move his head and take a look at his surroundings, but an immense pain coming from his neck stops him. A sharp discomfort fills his chest— a feeling of tightness swathing his lungs like a barbed wire. It's too hard to breathe. Painful. Like tons of bricks pressuring his chest. Buck tries to take a deep breath but his lungs burn and burn, and his breath falls short with a harsh cough. Another torturous cough comes from his throat and there is a warm, metallic taste in his mouth. Buck lifts his right hand— it's trembling, and puts his two fingers in his mouth, feeling the wetness. He takes them out and rubs his fingers together. The liquid is warm and bright red. It's blood. Buck knits his brows in confusion, then it all comes to him. It was his off day. He was driving. He saw a dog, standing in the middle of the road and tried to steer away from it— ending up losing the wheel's control and going off the road. Oh, he crashed his car.
There is a wetness in his torso. Another sharp pain creeps up on him. His shirt feels wet and sticky. Something's wrong. He places his left hand on the wet spot and chokes out a moan. A thick, round object is brushing his fingertips. Buck tilts his head forward just an inch— it hurts like hell, but he has to see it.
A big branch of a tree is piercing through his stomach. Fuck. He crashed his car straight into a fallen tree.
"Si— Siri..." He is out of breath. It hurts to talk. Buck lets out a groan and closes his eyes. It hurts. "Siri... Call... Call 911." He whimpers. Hot tears escape from his eyes.
It takes forever for the operator to pick up.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm— I— fuck." He bites his lips to hold his wince.
"I'm in a car accident."
" Evan?"
Oh, no. No, no, no. Not his sister. Please, not Maddie. He blurts a gruesome sob. It stabs his chest and stomach.
"Maddie"
"Buck, are you hurt? Tell me where you are. "
"Sunset Street. Crashed into— into a tree." His voice shakes. His heart beats out of his chest and it's so hard to breathe. His stomach is busted. He wants to go home.
"Walk me through your injuries." Her voice cracks at the last word. She clears her throat.
"Hurts— hurts to bre—breathe." As on cue, he spits a harsh cough. More blood fills his mouth and slowly oozes from his lips. The copper taste makes his stomach turn, he wants to throw up. Buck gags and lets out another cough. A loud, gut-wrenching cry comes from him. "God." He whines. Fresh tears flooding down his face. He takes a short breath. "Tightness in chest, possible punctured lung."
"You're doing great, Buck." He hears Maddie sniffle. She is crying. "ETA is only three minutes."
"Maddie." Buck cries for his sister. "Maddie, I've been impaled."
"What?"
"A tree branch..." He faces down to look at his torso. "It pierced through my stomach." Buck blurts out with a grunt.
"Buck..." He hears a soft whimper on the other end of the line. "They're coming, okay? Hold on, please." She tries to comfort him. Or herself. He doesn't know.
Buck hears the loud sirens closing the distance. Maddie is still on the phone, trying to keep him awake. He feels too exhausted to keep his eyes open, but it's Maddie, and he really doesn't want to die on his sister.
"Hey, baby." A soft, gentle voice speaks out to him, wanting his attention. Eddie.
Buck turns his face to his side ever so slightly and faces him. His boyfriend is here, looking at him with big, soft, hazel eyes. Eddie was suppose to be on his shift, so that means only one thing— they dispatched the 118 to his call.
"Eddie." Buck mumbles a soft cry. His brows wrinkles in agony and his face crumbles. Eddie is here. His whole family is here. He is not sure if that's a good or a bad thing— seeing his family for the last time before he dies, but in return, their last memory with him being a tragedy.
"Hey, hey. We're gonna get you out, okay?" Eddie says. His voice comes out steady, but Buck knows Eddie's guts— Eddie is scared shitless. His eyes shines with worry and fear, and Buck can see the faint shake on his boyfriend's hand when Eddie leans forward to put the c-collar on Buck's neck.
"You're gonna be just fine, kid." Bobby. "We're gonna cut the car door and we're gonna get you out." Bobby looks at him and nods his head.
The gentle reassurence coming from Bobby makes him want to surrender, to close his eyes with knowing that everything's gonna be okay. His eyelids weigh a ton and he doesn't think he can keep them open much longer. He just needs a second. Just one second to rest his eyes and then—
"Hey, hey, no. Buck. Open your eyes." A soft tap on his cheek.
" 'm tired." Barely above a whisper. A sharp pain twists his stomach. A Painful whimper leaves his mouth. He coughs up more blood. It's all over his lips, his mouth. Dripping down his neck. His face is stained.
"Just a little longer." Little longer feels like too much.
"Easy, easy." Bobby and Eddie lay him down the headboard. Too much movement. It's hurting him. Buck yelps out a bitter whimper. He is in so much pain. He feels himself floating.
They move him into the ambulance. It's too bright. Blinding white fluorescent lights hurt his head. Someone puts an oxygen mask on him. Everything hurts. He knows he's not gonna last much longer. Everything is so blurry. Where's Eddie? Buck needs to tell him something.
Buck raises his trembling hand— reaching Eddie, only to meet Eddie's hand halfway. Eddie's been reaching him too.
"I'm here. I'm here." Delicate fingers card his blood stained curls. Softly massaging his scalp.
"I'm here, Evan." Eddie rests his forehead on his.
"The... The car..." He breathes. Buck needs to tell Eddie something. Something important. "Chris..."
"Hey, Chris is at home, remember?"
No. That's not it.
"In the car..." Why is it so hard to talk. "I... I bought him..." His breathing is shallow. His voice is muffled from the mask. "I bought him a Lego set." He saw it on the display at a store, on his way home and it immediately reminded him of Chris. So he bought it. Buck was planning on giving him tomorrow.
Eddie tries to smile lightly, but it comes out as wet. He keeps brushing Buck's hair. "It's okay, we'll buy him a new one."
No, they won't. Buck isn't gonna be around for that. It's his last present to Chris, last memory from Buck, so Chris can remember him. And maybe, even after Chris hits thirty, all grown up—a handsome, young man, he won't throw it away and keeps it safe. Maybe, some days, Chris takes it in his hands, a bittersweet smile places on his lips, and he remembers Buck. It was from my Buck. Buck would really like that.
Oh, he needs to say one more thing.
"Eddie." A weak whisper.
"I'm here." Eddie's soft lips plant a tiny kiss on his forehead.
"I love you." He can close his eyes now.
He hears a steady beeping sound. It's annoying.
"I know you're awake."
So much for sleeping.
"C'mon, open those baby blues for me." A warm hand— Eddie's hand, is holding his, thumb stroking back and forth. Another hand is on his head.
He slowly peaks his eyes open, turns his head. And the world comes into his focus. Eddie's watching him.
"There we go." Eddie says quietly. A loving smile on his lips. His eyes are bloodshot, hair disheveled. He looks like he hasn't been sleeping in years. He presses the call button and locks his eyes with Buck's again.
Buck mumbles a soft groan. He opens his mouth to speak, but another quiet moan comes out.
"Sssh... Don't talk." The hand on his head disappears and lands on his face. Eddie lightly caressing Buck's cheek. "Just rest, okay?"
"Edd..." It's not even a whisper. It's only a quiet sound. He wants to say Eddie's name. But he is too tired. He'll say it the next time he wakes up.
"Hi." Eddie raises the hand he is holding and places a soft kiss. His lips brushing against Buck's hand. Buck gives a light squeeze. "I love you, too."