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Buck looks in the mirror and sighs, his hair is disheveled and the bags under his eyes are noticeable from a mile away.
It's been a few months since he managed to escape captivity, a few months since he's been back home. Oh well, his new home. Los Angeles has been a change he wasn't expecting and it is so different from Texas but he has his sister, Eddie and Chris, and the new found family that his husband gained at the 118. So Buck is not alone. He has people. And they all are more than supportive and caring, beyond what he was expecting.
Buck has even started therapy. So theoretically, with all of this in mind, he should be getting better. And he has, physically– he has gained weigh and he's almost at his normal weight from before getting kidnapped and tortured, the bruises have faded and most of his scars aren't so bad anymore, still noticeable but not as much as before.
On the other hand, mentally… well, Buck doesn't feel like he has progressed much, no matter what Eddie or Maddie say.
He is haunted by nightmares, everytime he closes his eyes. And he has panic attacks at least once a week.
Sometimes Buck feels like he's hanging on by a thread. Fragile, like a newborn, like a tiny grass sprouting through the moss.
He hates that, he hates that he feels weak, and that he sometimes scares Chris when the panic attacks happen in front of his kid. He hates that a part of him stayed in that old dirty basement, that a part of him broke back there.
Buck just wants his old self back.
He can still remember the feeling of helplessness. The hands on his hair pulling painfully at the strands, forcing his head back and pouring water over him, making him drown. He remembers the men, kicking him and punching him until he wasn't sure what was up and what was down. They weren’t even interrogating him. They just wanted him to know that they had complete and total control over him. They just wanted to break him. And Buck fears that they succeeded, at least in some way.
He didn't give up. He came back home. He keeps repeating to himself He's safe now.
"Buck?" Eddie asks, hesitantly, pulling him out of his dark thoughts.
Buck looks up, the reflection in the mirror showing Eddie behind him.
"Hey." He whispers, his voice low and hoarse. "Is Chris asleep?"
"Yeah, just finished with his story. He wants you tomorrow night, though. He says you do the voices better." Eddie smiles softly and walks up to him and hugs him from behind, his hands coming to rest in Buck's stomach. "If you feel up to it, of course." Eddie murmurs against Buck's neck, kissing the skin softly after a few seconds.
All the tension that Buck has been feeling melts away and he closes his eyes, sighing. He's home. He's alive. Eddie is there, Eddie still loves him.
These are things he needs to be grateful for. These are the things that make him happy.
"I think I will be." He shrugs and leans more into his husband's embrace.
Some days are good, and some days– like this one– are bad. But Eddie is always there. Eddie always has Buck's back.
Readjusting and reinserting himself in society has been challenging to say the least. A lot of physical therapy and even more therapy for his PTSD and all that.
It feels… draining, most of the time. He fought to come back home and then he had to just— keep fighting. Buck is exhausted, to say the least. But Eddie helps. Chris helps.
"You okay, baby?" Eddie asks, letting his nose run along the juncture of Buck's neck and shoulder. His voice is soft and calm, patiently waiting for Buck to sort himself and his messy mind.
God, he loves this man so much.
"Yeah, just– Just tired." Buck pauses for a second, remembering his therapist told him to try and talk about his feelings, to be open with Eddie. "Today was a bad day, I think. Can't stop thinking about–" He swallows hard and squeezes Eddie's hands that are still resting on his stomach. "It's a lot."
He decides to leave it at that, knowing that his husband understands, even if he doesn't say the words.
"Mhmm. Is there anything I can do to help?" Eddie meets Buck's sad tired eyes in the mirror.
"No, I don't think so. Can we just go to sleep? If you don't mind?"
Since he's been back, Buck's been so hurt emotionally, physically and mentally that there hasn't been a time for the two of them to... well, be them. Be a married couple. Make out on the bed and maybe do more. Buck feels too broken for that, at least for now. Not to mention the many scars torture and war have left behind on his skin, so obviously a soldier's body full of marks that a small part of him hates.
Eddie has battle scars too and Buck doesn't care about them, they show he's a survivor. For some reason, Buck can't make himself feel the same about his own.
He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to get mad or frustrated at him. Buck logically knows that Eddie wouldn't do that. But still.
It never happens, though.
Eddie's gaze is steady and understanding, adoration shining in his warm brown eyes. "Of course we can, baby. Come on."
"Love you." Buck mumbles, once he's comfortable in bed with Eddie next to him. Tipping his head, Eddie presses a lingering kiss to Buck's temple, nosing along his forehead until he's inhaling the hint of strawberry scent from Buck's shampoo.
“Love you, too. Now sleep, I'll be here when you wake up,” Eddie answers. Since Buck's been back and the nightmares started, Eddie tells him he'll be there once he wakes up every night. It's nice, and Buck loves it. The sweet assurance always manages to fix at least a little bit of his broken beaten heart.
Buck shuffles slightly, pressing his nose into the juncture of Eddie's neck where his lips brushed against Eddie's pulse point.
Smiling softly, Eddie places a feather-light kiss to the top of Buck's head as his eyes close too. Soon enough, they're both asleep.
Buck falls asleep, feeling safe in Eddie's arms.
And then he’s drowning again. The first torrent of water cascades over his face, and after the first minute or so of holding his breath, he can no longer stop himself from gasping, and then choking at the drowning sensation.
The water is everywhere. It’s streaming down his face before he can stop it, the blind panic giving way to a cool, dull sense of shock. The water hits his mouth, and he realizes distantly that it’s salty.
Head back. No air. Head forward.
There’s a pain in his chest that feels suspiciously like his heart repeatedly throwing itself against his rib cage.
No. No. No.
Buck fights against the water pouring over him. He can't give up. He needs to go back home, to Eddie and Chris.
But the nightmare never ends.
Over and over, blinding pain against his back. His throat was raw from screaming, and every inch of his skin was covered in his own blood, both old and new.
The scenario keeps changing but the pain never stops.
Buck's attention is snapped into focus by a high-pitched buzzing originating from the man standing closest to him. He is holding a cattle prod.
Buck's sluggish mind is still trying to catch up with what is about to happen, when the tip of the staff is brought down on his thigh. He clenches his jaw but can't stop the grunt of pain that escapes as pain shoots up and down his leg.
Shocks continue to rip through his legs causing his muscles to contract involuntarily as he pulls ineffectually at his restraints.
"Buck, stop." A voice that sounds like Eddie begs him to stop but Buck can't do it. He needs to fight.
If he gives up, he's a dead man.
So he fights, with the little strength he has left.
"Buck, stop. Please, baby." Eddie's voice keeps repeating, although this time it sounds strained. Buck shakes his head. He needs to keep going, he can't give up.
"Open your eyes, Evan."
Buck stops for a second. Eddie isn't supposed to be here. His eyes are open too, right?
Something's wrong. Buck's brain says to him.
He opens his eyes to the sight of his hands around his husband's neck, Eddie fighting for air and his hands uselessly clawing at Buck's wrists to let go.
Buck jumps away, terrified.
"Eddie." He barely manages to say, watching as the love of his life gasps and coughs, his breathing trying to come back to normal.
There’s a sharp choked noise that Buck numbly realizes comes from him, almost like someone had punched him in the gut, before the first sobs fill the air. He can feel his body start to shake and Eddie's arms holding him gently, even when Buck tries to push him away.
"It's okay, Buck. I'm okay, you're okay." Eddie assures him, trying to get him to calm down. Buck can't do that.
Eddie's voice sounds rough, like sandpaper. There's already dark marks starting to form on his neck.
He hurt Eddie. He almost kills him in his sleep.
"I'm so sorry, Eds. I– I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm sorry." Buck keeps shaking, feeling the weight of the universe balanced on his shoulders, waves of distress pouring out of him so heavily that the air feels thick with it.
Buck can't breath.
“Shhh, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Eddie murmurs, his voice thick with worry and pain, but not from the bruises already forming in his neck, but from having to witness Buck so anxious and broken. Eddie starts with simple reassurances; little phrases of comfort and love and protection. As his hands rub up and down Buck's back, he keeps whispering sweet words. "I've got you. I'm okay. I've got you, baby. Breath for me, yeah, just like that."
He switches to spanish after a while, talking about his childhood and memories that he shares with Buck.
"Respira por mi, amor. Eso es. Estoy bien, estás a salvo." Eddie whispers, the words slipping easily from his lips, knowing Buck loves it when Eddie talks in spanish. His accent slightly changes, just a little bit, when he does.
He knows Buck can’t understand spanish, other than a few key phrases either he, Abuela or Tia Pepa had taught him over the years, but from the minute he started talking in spanish, he slowly felt Buck's muscles unclenching, and the tendrils of panic releasing their vice like grip until the tears began to dissipate.
"Eso es, mi vida. Estás a salvo, estás en casa conmigo. Shh, está bien."
Buck feels Eddie's heart beating under his fingertips, his breathing calm, and Buck tries to imitate him. Eddie is surrounding him, his arms, his perfume.
"Todo va a estar bien, solo fue una pesadilla. Estás en casa, estamos bien, amor."
Buck slowly calms down, some tears still escaping his eyes. His hands are still shaking and his mind keeps replaying what he's done, the worst memory of all so far and it's not even from when he was in captivity. It's from minutes ago, when his hands were in Eddie's neck, hurting his husband.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Buck repeats, but at least he's not panicking anymore. "I didn't want to hurt you." This time his voice sounds so small and low that he's not even sure Eddie's heard him.
But of course he did, because Eddie is already whispering more reassurances that Buck selfishly takes.
"I know, baby. But I'm okay. We're okay."
Buck burrows himself more into Eddie's warmth. "It's not okay. I hurt you." He traces his fingertips against the bruises already forming in his husband's neck, gently, afraid of causing more hurt. "I could've–" He cuts himself, not brave enough to say the words out loud. "You shouldn't be the one comforting me, Eds. I just—" He chokes, shaking his head again and trying to get away from Eddie.
He could've killed Eddie.
If Buck hadn't woke up, Eddie could–
"Hey, look at me. Evan, look at me." Eddie whispers, his hands gentle but determined to guide Buck's face until he has no other option but to look at the man. "You didn't hurt me on purpose, okay? You're dealing with PTSD and you have nightmares, I do too. It sucks, I know. But we're gonna work through it, together.'
The look in Eddie's eyes is so tender, so soft and full of love that there's no way Buck could miss it, even in the half lit room. But more importantly, the look in his husband's eyes doesn't waver, it's steady and full of trust, even after all that. Eddie still trusts Buck to keep him safe, to love him right.
Buck's heart stutters in his chest because God, he doesn't deserve someone like Eddie. But he's selfish and he'll take anything Eddie wants to give him, especially if it's forever.
"Eds—"
"If you say sorry one more time I swear I'll cook for you tomorrow and make you eat it all." Eddie cuts him off, teasingly. A small smile tugging at his lips. But then he's serious again, holding Buck's face between his hands and caressing his cheek with his thumb, gently, so softly Buck barely feels it.
"Evan, I don't know half of what you went through and the mere idea of it makes me so sick to my stomach that sometimes I can't breathe, thinking of you— alone…" Eddie murmurs, voice choking on the words as he tilts his head just slightly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But I'm here now. We're here now. We're home."
"Evan, you're the strongest, kindest person I know. And I know for certain that you would never ever hurt me on purpose. I know you, and I know you're the most caring, gentle giant there is. So this that happened here, means nothing. It was just a nightmare and I don't blame you for it, I'm not mad at you, I'm not scared of you." Eddie sighs, getting closer again and folding his lover into his arms, with the blonde's head resting on his shoulder. Is not the most comfortable position there is but Eddie would gladly suffer through it just for Buck to feel loved and cared for.
"You're trying your best, you're going to therapy and you're adjusting to normal life again. It's hard, there's gonna be hard days. But you're trying." Eddie kisses his temple. "That's all I can ask from you."
Neither one of them say anything. Buck's arms come up across Eddie's back slowly and hesitant like he's scared he'll be pushed away. But Eddie just locks his arms around his husband, holding him as close to him as humanly possible.
"I'll sleep on the floor tonight." Buck says after a while.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "No, you won't." After a beat, he speaks before Buck can even think about it. "You won't sleep on the couch either, you idiot." The insult doesn't have a bite, the tone too fond to actually mean it.
"At least let me take care of those bruises." Buck whispers, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence, his breath hot against Eddie's neck.
"In a minute." Eddie slowly rubs his hand up and down Evan's back in soothing motions before sliding his fingers into Buck's hair and pressing reassuring touches to his scalp. Buck presses in closer, a wet shallow breath ghosting across Eddie's neck as he continues to cry.
He instinctively presses a light kiss to the top of Buck's head. Reassuring. Tender. Letting the kiss scream the words ‘I’m not going anywhere’ into the semi darkness of the room.
"I'm here. We're home. We're okay. We're safe." He repeats the phrase. Not to placate Buck, but to remind his lover that he isn't going anywhere; that they are in this together through the lows and the highs of life after war and everything that comes with it. Even when the lows hurt as much as they did today.
Buck doesn't know how long they stayed there, with him silently crying in Eddie's arms and his husband offering a reassuring touch.
"Let me take care of you now." Buck's voice comes out hoars, his throat is scratchy from all the crying but he ignores it. Eddie is more important.
"I'm fine." Eddie doesn't even let him get too far, his arms surrounding Buck like an armor. The blonde rolls his eyes, Eddie's voice sounds worse than Buck's and he knows it must be pretty painful, if not incredibly uncomfortable.
Leaning back so he can see Eddie's face, Buck tilts his head up, eyes darting over his features and noticing the paleness of his cheeks and the bruises on his neck. “Please, Eds?Just let me take care of you” Buck asks, voice soft and fingers even softer as they cradle his husband's head.
"Fine." Eddie sighs, reluctant. But his tone matches the softness of Buck's.
Buck smiles, relieved that he's now the one who can comfort Eddie and make him feel better, even if he's the one who caused the damage in the first place. Yeah, no matter what he says to reassure Buck, the guilt is not gonna leave any time soon.
Buck doesn't think he'll ever stop feeling guilty about this.
But that's something to talk to his therapist about later, now he needs to focus on Eddie.
He leaves the room and walks the hallway as silently as he can so as to not wake Christopher up. He checks the door that's just a bit open, watching his kid sleep on the bed without a care in the world. Buck can't help but to smile at the sight before continuing his way to the kitchen, to grab some ice and an ibuprofen for the pain that he's sure Eddie must be feeling right now.
"Hey." Buck whispers once back in the room, turning the light on so he can see better. The windows let the lights from the streets shine through but it's not enough. "I'm gonna put some ice on the bruises now, is that okay?"
“I trust you,” Eddie murmurs, certainty clear in his voice despite the roughness.
It terrifies Buck, the amount of trust Eddie has in him. It has always terrified him but even more so now that he might hurt him without even noticing. Buck shakes the thought away and starts taking care of the bruises, wincing everytime Eddie does or whimpers either because of the pain or the cold.
With shaking fingers, Buck works the cold pack around Eddie's neck, trying desperately to mutter soothing words as Eddie hisses through clenched teeth.
After a few painstaking minutes ( ten to be exact, not that he's counting or anything ), Buck finally pulls back, running his fingers down Eddie's cheeks.
"I'm sorry." Buck traces his fingers across Eddie's jawline, darting his thumb across his lower lip before pulling away.
"Don't." Eddie grabs Buck's wrist. "I already told you, it's not your fault." He brings the hand back up to his lips, where Eddie brushes a dry kiss to the palm of Buck's hand. "Now shut up and let's go back to sleep. You have to be up in a couple hours to make Chris pancakes."
Buck chuckles lightly, leaning forward to brush a kiss to the side of Eddie temple. "Okay, come on, Eds. Take the ibuprofen first, though. You'll thank me in the morning."
Not long after that they make themselves comfortable again, Eddie tucking his head under Buck's jaw, resting his head against the blonde's chest and taking a deep breath before letting his eyes slide closed again. "Love you, Evan." It's the last thing he says, before drifting back to sleep, exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster that was tonight and pulled by the comforting heat radiating off of Buck soaking through Eddie's clothes. So warm and so safe.