Chapter Text
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Busy and grueling shifts always tended to leave Buck in a state of active exhaustion. He could feel the ache and burn on his body as he forced himself to keep moving, but it wasn't unlike the feeling of a long and hard workout. It didn't feel bad; it was just a persistent reminder that the first thing Buck had better do at the end of shift was drive home and collapse into bed—the sole exception being a team outing for breakfast, because, well, food.
But usually that bone-deep exhaustion didn't hit until those last few hours of shift, when the sun peeked over the city horizon and taunted him with the fact that the majority of Los Angeles was just now waking up from a restful sleep.
Buck loved his job, hours and all. But he figured he was entitled to a little bit of jealousy for regular sleep schedules.
What made today odd was that it was barely mid-afternoon. Buck hadn't been pulling any odd schedule shifts and he hadn't worked himself any harder working out than he normally did, but as he held the jaws of life in place while it crunched the car frame in front of him, he couldn't help but wonder what made today different.
And it wasn't the normal feeling of exhaustion, either. Yes, that persistent body ache of overworked muscles was there, but it was coupled with an odd buzzing feeling Buck had never felt before. It felt like his blood was carbonated, bubbles popping just under his skin and while it didn't make him twitch or shiver or affect his performance in any way, he half expected to feel that bubbling if he held a hand to his arm.
Buck did rest his hand on his forearm the moment he was able to put the jaws down—just for a moment—but he didn't feel anything odd, and he forced himself to shake it off and focus on the rest of the rescue. He could deal with whatever this weird feeling was later.
Buck let himself fall into the rescue rhythm, hauling pieces of debris out of the way so Hen and Chimney could better access their crash victim. Eddie worked to calm a young kid in the backseat who was thankfully unharmed, albeit extremely scared and traumatized. Buck tried to keep his head in the game despite the distracting sensations. He didn't seem to be doing a good job of paying attention though, because Eddie had to awkwardly nudge his foot without looking at him when Hen tried to get his attention once more.
"Sorry, backboard, got it," Buck said, voice choppy as he ran to the ambulance to get another backboard other than the one he’d already brought over. Eddie gave him an odd look but didn't say anything when he returned, still focused on taking care of the kid.
"We're almost ready to move," Hen reported. "The backboard's for Eddie."
Buck's throat constricted, wondering how Eddie had gotten hurt in the last 10 seconds, before he realized she probably meant the kid he was working on. Buck really needed to get a hold of himself.
And that damn buzzing under his skin needed to go away, not get worse.
Buck handed the backboard off and resisted the urge to scratch insistently at his arms to get the buzz to go away. It wasn't an itch. Scratching wouldn't work, not really, but he felt like he had to do something to make it go away. He'd never felt this kind of sensation before. He should probably say something if it was bothering him that badly, but...well...
He looked at Eddie, who had a kind and compassionate smile on his face as he helped secure the kid safely, and he looked at Hen and Chimney, working to save the kid's father. Buck didn't need to distract them with a minor annoyance. He could suck it up, and he'd be fine. Everything was fine.
He'd gotten pretty good at convincing himself of that over the last few months...years, even. Or at least, he'd like to think so. Not that he would ever compare his traumas to others’, but he liked to think that in spite of all the bullshit the universe had thrown at him in the last few years, he was doing a pretty good job of holding himself together. He knew...he wanted to get the building aches and pains off his chest, but just because he'd gone through everything he had, that didn't mean he had to subject everyone else to it.
Eddie was making so much progress in therapy, it was almost like he was a new man. He wasn't, of course. He was the same man that had become Buck's best friend almost four years ago, but he was turning into the best version of himself right before Buck's eyes, and he was so damn proud of Eddie for it.
Buck wasn't going to be the one to ruin that by dumping all of his problems on Eddie now that he was finally addressing his own problems.
And sure, a lot of those problems overlapped. Buck still woke up some nights with the taste of Eddie's blood on his tongue. He still flinched when he saw a distant reflection of light on some days when his nerves were shot. He still felt the urge to run and check that Eddie was okay when he heard a distant car backfire. Eddie had gone through all of those moments with him, and then some. Logically, he'd be the best person to talk to about those moments.
But Eddie was already talking to Frank about it. Buck didn't need to bring it up again and make things worse.
He couldn't force Eddie to relive getting shot just so Buck could have some peace of mind. He couldn't make Eddie relive the terror of being held hostage at gunpoint just so Buck would stop jumping at every distant bang.
"Buck."
Buck startled, focusing on Eddie's frustrated and concerned face. "Sorry, what?"
"I need your help getting Ty secured on the board."
Buck took a quick sweep and saw what Eddie was really asking for. He was currently using his body to block the kid’s bloody view of his father, and from his position he was having a hard time reaching one of the strap buckles.
"Yeah, I got it."
Buck helped secure the kid to the board, and Eddie continued talking to him and keeping him calm. Buck glanced over Eddie's shoulder and was glad to see that Hen and Chimney looked far less stressed than they had just two minutes ago. The father was still in a critical state, but if Hen and Chim were calmer, Buck was far more optimistic about his chances.
"Your dad is gonna need his own ambulance because they're gonna do everything they can to help him, okay?" Eddie said as he and Buck secured Ty to the gurney provided by the 129. Other firefighters were helping Hen and Chimney get the father secured to the 118's gurney, and Buck felt a rare feeling of relief that a car accident of this size had only resulted in one critical injury. Usually, multi-car accidents were a recipe for tragedy, and while the father's injury was grievous, it was looking like he'd be okay after a long recovery.
"He's gonna be okay, right?" Ty asked, voice small as he tried to peer past Buck's large frame.
Promises were dangerous, but the kid needed reassurance, so... "Hen and Chimney are the absolute best," Buck said, giving Ty a winning smile. "They're doing everything they can for your dad. If I was hurt, I'd want them working on me. Heck, they have worked on me before, and here I am!"
Eddie let out a quiet huff as Ty gave him a feeble smile. "You'll be going to the same hospital as your dad, and my friend Monica here will make sure you're all set, okay?" 'Friend' was a loose term; Buck was sure Eddie had only ever interacted with Firefighter/Paramedic Alvarez a couple times before on a shared scene, but Ty needed to be able to trust her.
Alvarez gave them a nod from inside the ambulance as she locked the gurney in place. "We'll get you to the hospital as fast as we can. We'll even use the lights and sirens, okay?"
"The weewoo?!" Ty asked excitedly. "Will dad get the weewoo, too?"
"You bet," Eddie confirmed. He gave Alvarez a nod, and with one last reassuring smile to Ty, he closed the ambulance doors and pounded his fist twice against it.
"I think the dad will be okay," Buck said once the ambulance began to roll away. Hen and Chimney were just leaving with their own ambulance. "It looked like they stabilized him in the car."
Eddie nodded, looking marginally relieved. He gave Buck a sidelong glance. "Are you okay?" he asked, eyeing him tentatively.
No.
"Yeah, just tired," Buck said, fighting back the urge to squirm when the buzzing under his skin increased. It was getting worse, closer to the surface, and he could almost feel it ghosting along his face now.
Eddie twisted his lips but nodded. Buck almost wished Eddie would push. Maybe he would but he was just waiting until they got back to the station. More than that, Buck didn't want to load more onto Eddie's plate.
Buck watched the 118 ambulance disappear around the corner to avoid looking at Eddie's prodding gaze. If he broke now he'd break down the dam he'd built to hold back each and every burden he couldn't let the others see, and he didn't want that. He'd be fine—
The buzzing grew sharply in intensity until there was an uncomfortable pop, like the way his ears would pop from a change in pressure but throughout his whole body. Buck rubbed his ear idly; at least the buzzing had finally gone away. Maybe it'd been a pressure thing all along? LA wasn't exactly known for sudden drops of pressure, though.
"Should've gotten here sooner," Eddie said. Buck blinked, startled by the statement. They'd arrived at the accident scene as fast as they could, and the father would be fine. The kid was fine.
"We did everything we could," Buck said, hoping to alleviate whatever was going through Eddie's head. Maybe he should ask if Eddie was okay—
"Diaz, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?" Captain Mehta asked. Buck frowned, wondering when the man had arrived. The 133 hadn't been on scene the whole time, and Ty had been loaded into the 129's ambulance. Wait, the ambulance had already left—
Except it was still sitting there, engine idling. With the number 133 gleaming proudly on the side.
What the hell...?
"Yeah, that'd be gr—"
Bang.
No.
Nonono—
Buck spun to face Eddie just in time to be splatted in the face by a warm, thick liquid—bloodbloodbloodEddie'sblood—as Eddie stared back at him with a stunned expression. He wavered for a moment, time stretching to make the moment last longer than was physically possible, and Buck wondered when the hell Eddie had cut his hair—his shoulder was red—
Eddie fell like he was a marionette whose strings had been cut. Buck could only watch in horrific fascination. He'd been at a scene not one minute ago. He hadn't been sleeping, so this couldn't be a dream—unless the whole call had been a dream in the first place? There was no way Buck could be here right now unless he were trapped in a nightmare, it was the only way—
A force slammed Buck into the side of the firetruck, just a hair of a second before a second shot ricocheted off the nearby metal. Buck couldn't look away from Eddie.
Eddie, who had been shot.
Eddie, who stared back at him, looking lost and confused.
Eddie, who is the best friend Buck has ever had.
Eddie, who was dying, and Buck could only watch again.
But that wasn't entirely true. Buck hadn't just sat there and watched the first time. Not completely. He'd been stunned and taken far too long to come to his senses, but he had moved. And he had to move now. He had to move or else he would have to watch Eddie bleed out in front of him.
Never mind that this was a dream. Buck couldn't let himself be the reason Eddie bled out in the street. Not if there was something he could do about it.
But in Buck’s dreams, this moment never played out the way it had originally. Buck eyed the firetruck nervously. He knew what would happen if he rolled under it. Sometimes he'd make it to the other side and grab Eddie's hand, only for the rig to collapse onto his leg and pin them both in the open. Sometimes he'd be pinned there and have to watch Eddie bleed out as his hand twitched in Buck's grasp, and other times the sniper would put them both out of their misery.
Sometimes the truck collapsed on him before he could even emerge on the other side.
But as Buck looked across the pavement at the growing pool of red under Eddie, as Eddie looked at him and reached for him...Buck made the same choice he made every time he relived this nightmare.
He rolled under the truck.
Buck crawled forward, eyes only on Eddie as he braced himself for that crushing pain with every shift of his body, but it never came. He stretched forward, hand gripping Eddie’s arm, and he paused for half a second, waiting...but still nothing. Buck yanked on Eddie’s arm, yelling in exertion as he pulled the man closer and dragged him under the truck. Buck spared a moment to wonder if this nightmare would be the worst iteration yet and the whole thing would fall on Eddie instead, but he had Eddie free of the truck in the next breath. He hauled him up and over his shoulder even as a bullet ricocheted off the metal nearby.
The familiar chaos of other firefighters shouting, the smell of gasoline and fire, the warm drip of Eddie's blood on his shoulder... Buck hated that it was familiar in the first place; he hated that an event they had somehow survived could get so distorted in his brain. It was already one of the worst moments of his life, and yet his brain's favorite game seemed to be 'How Can We Make This Worse?' The anticipation of what could be worse continued to eat at Buck the further along he got in this recreation, and nothing different had happened.
Would Eddie bleed out under his hands as he begged Eddie to hang on? Would one of the subsequent bullets that missed everyone else find their target this time?
"Hey...are you hurt?" Eddie was barely hanging on, barely present in the moment, and even still, he ignored what was happening to him and only focused on the blood spattered across Buck's face.
"No, no, no. I'm good," Buck assured him, fighting back the urge to cry. He hadn't cried then, couldn't let himself lose it when he still had to save Eddie, but now, knowing what he knew, knowing that eventually his body would take pity on him and let him wake up and see Eddie healed and whole and uninjured...
It took everything in him not to break down and sob over Eddie's dying body. He wanted to let go, let everything out in an agonizing scream, but doing so would let this Eddie die in front of him, and even being able to wake up after wouldn't erase the image from his mind. He couldn’t let that happen.
"Just hang on," Buck whispered, and he wasn't entirely sure whether he was speaking to Eddie or to himself, begging Eddie to stay with him or begging himself to get through this without letting dream-Eddie die.
They made it to Byrne Memorial. Buck hollered at the waiting team to hurry and helped haul Eddie onto the gurney, and then Eddie was being rushed into the ER...and still nothing different had happened.
"You okay, Buckley?" Mehta asked. When he didn't receive a response, perhaps he considered that an answer in and of itself, and he left to follow his team inside.
"No," Buck answered to the empty air.
He was not okay. This nightmare he was trapped in felt all too real; he’d relived everything in horrifying real-time, and nothing about the original moment had changed. Nothing had gotten worse this time, and usually by this point in the nightmare something new had happened to further tear Buck apart. He couldn't even pinpoint when he'd been thrown into this dream, and while he knew that was rational not to know how he ended up in his nightmares...something was off.
He remembered waking up for work today. He remembered going in a little early to help Bobby make breakfast for the team, both the A-shift coming on and C-shift on their way out. He remembered Chimney declaring that Terminator 2 would be required viewing for their next movie night. He remembered getting the call to the multi-car pile-up. He just didn't understand how a normal day had switched so suddenly into one of his most frequent nightmares.
He was so far from okay.
But aside from the obvious, Buck had no idea what was wrong.
For the first time since Buck started having this nightmare, he didn't know what to do next. Usually the moments he relived were so ingrained into his brain that it was second nature to run through the motions. And even if they weren't, he'd make the same choices over and over in order to save Eddie's life. Or at least he would try to before his subconscious threw a grenade in the middle of everything.
But now, standing outside the entrance of the hospital, he didn't know what to do next. He'd never made it this far. When this day actually happened, Buck had been in such a state of shock that he couldn't even begin to recount events before Taylor took him to his loft so he could change clothes. He had nightmares about what happened after, about getting a text that would shatter his world, telling him Eddie hadn't made it through the surgery, or about showing up at the hospital, expecting to see Eddie smiling weakly back at him only to see a crying Ana as a doctor declared time of death over Eddie's unmoving body.
"Buck?"
Buck blinked, only aware that there was a hand on his shoulder when he finally made eye contact with Bobby. Had Bobby met him outside the last time? Buck looked to his right; the fire engine was still there, so he couldn't have been standing there for too long, but he thought he'd at least made it inside by the time Bobby found him.
Buck looked at Bobby's face again. The man's face was lined in deep concern as he tried to get a read on how to handle Buck and this situation. Buck could almost imagine what was going through Bobby's mind. Was Eddie still alive? Was it too late?
"He's in surgery," Buck said, barely able to croak the words. "He's...they wheeled him in."
"Okay, that's good," Bobby said, nodding and squeezing Buck's shoulder. It was the shoulder that had soaked up most of Eddie's blood when he'd hauled him up, and Buck could feel the warm tackiness against his skin. It was warm enough to still be fresh in the Los Angeles sun but tacky enough that he must have been standing out here for a while.
"There was so much blood," Buck whispered, hyper-focused now on every bit of blood he could still feel on his body. He reflexively licked his lips and tasted—
"C'mon," Bobby said quietly. Buck suddenly felt nauseated. "Let's get you cleaned up, and then we'll see what we can get for an update." Buck could only nod. He didn't think he could do anything on his own at the moment.
At some point, while Bobby helped Buck clean the blood off his face and hands, Captain Mehta found them in the restroom and offered a spare LAFD shirt and mask from their rig. Buck had to believe that the man had done the same when this actually happened. He hoped Captain Mehta hadn't taken any offense at Buck's lack of follow up. Buck was shocked that he'd even been allowed into the hospital without a mask on, but perhaps they thought he needed treatment with—with the amount of Eddie's blood on him.
Eddie survives, Buck told himself, letting Bobby towel his hands dry like he was a young child. You know he survives. No matter what happens, when you wake up, he'll be there. You just have to get through this.
Maybe he could pinch himself? That had never worked for him before, but it couldn't hurt to try—
"Buck."
Bobby's voice was sharp, indicating that it wasn’t the first time he'd tried to get Buck's attention.
"Sorry," Buck muttered, and Bobby only sighed commiseratingly.
"It's okay, kid. I know what you're going through right now."
As far as Bobby knew, sure, but Buck knew that whatever was going on with him right now was outside of anyone's wheelhouse. If they were just talking about Eddie being shot in front of Buck and Buck only being able to stand there and watch it happen...yeah, Bobby knew what that felt like. He'd only been able to listen as Athena fought for her life. Bobby knew exactly what it felt like to be helpless when the person he cared about the most was in danger.
But that wasn't entirely Buck's situation at the moment. He'd lived this before, he'd had nightmares about this before. For some reason, he was hyper aware of being in this nightmare, and it was playing out in uncomfortable real-time and accuracy. And Buck could only let himself go along for the ride, because nothing he changed in this nightmare would affect anything when he woke up.
...Wait, did he just compare himself and Eddie to Bobby and Athena?
Buck shook his head to try and clear it. Think, Buck, what happens next? What else could go wrong besides—besides—
He couldn't even think it. He didn't want to kick his subconscious into overdrive and risk it throwing Eddie's death in his face.
"I, um, I need to—Christopher..."
"Let's see what kind of update we can get from the doctors, okay?" Bobby suggested gently. Buck almost wanted to say no, that this was a prime opportunity for the other shoe to drop and the doctor could break the devastating news...but that wouldn't move things along. He had to keep going until he woke up.
"Okay."
Talking to the doctors ended up being a good thing, because they would only release updates to Buck as Eddie's medical proxy. At the moment, they could only tell Buck that Eddie was still in surgery and would be for a few hours yet, but that wasn't a surprise. Or at least, it was how events were supposed to go. Luckily, Buck was able to give permission for Bobby to receive future updates in his place so that he'd be able to update Buck as needed while he talked to Christopher. Buck could only assume this was how things had gone down in reality.
Oh fuck, what if that was where this nightmare was leading? What if he was doomed to break down in front of Christopher, not because he received a good news text from Bobby but because he received the worst news possible—?
"I'll text you if I hear anything, okay?"
Buck nodded, even as a wave of dread threatened to drown him. He just had to make it until he woke up. 'Just keep swimming.'
Buck forced himself to stumble out of the hospital, each passing moment an opportunity for things to get worse. What if he wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital to see Christopher because there was an active shooter? Or maybe on the way to Christopher’s, Buck’s tire would blow and cause a car accident.
Not that Buck had been driving when this actually happened, Taylor had...Taylor...
“Buck!”
Buck looked up to see Taylor moving through the police barricade in his direction. Something inside him softened at seeing her. Even if their relationship had run its course, he still cared about her and would never be able to repay her for what she’d done for him on this day.
“Taylor, I—I’m—”
“I’m not working this one,” she assured him quickly, even if Buck didn’t need to ask. “I just—I heard a firefighter was shot. You didn’t answer my calls. I got worried.”
Buck nodded absently. He hadn’t been able to appreciate it at the time, but Taylor caring enough about him to rush to the hospital just to see if he was okay...that meant a lot.
“Sorry, I—I wasn’t checking my phone,” Buck offered lamely. It was a valid excuse. He’d been entirely out of it, and frankly, cell service in the hospital was spotty at best. But he knew if he’d been on the other end of the line just how out of his mind with worry he’d be. He wished Taylor hadn’t had to go through that.
“Is that blood?” Taylor asked hesitantly, looking down at Buck’s pants.
Buck swallowed. He wished the constant reminders of Eddie’s blood would stop at some point, but he supposed that was the point of a nightmare. “It’s not mine,” Buck mumbled. “It’s Eddie’s.”
“Eddie’s the one who got shot?” The weight of Eddie’s name on Taylor’s lips never would have registered the day of, but Buck marveled at how this version of Taylor already knew just how much Eddie meant to him.
Buck nodded, unable to explain what had happened, where he’d been, what he’d had to watch. He remembered saying something when this happened, or maybe he remembered Taylor’s account later, but now...what was the point of indulging a figment of his imagination?
Why was he entertaining any of this? To get to the point when he’d wake up? Why couldn’t he just—
For the same reason he couldn’t let Eddie bleed out in front of him, even knowing it was a nightmare. He wouldn’t be able to live with the memory of doing nothing.
Buck took a deep breath. Christopher was next. He needed to talk to Christopher and tell him...tell him his father was fighting for his life...and Bobby would hopefully send a text of good news rather than the worst—
“Why don’t I drive you?” Taylor offered. Buck wondered when he’d started to ramble out loud enough for her to know that he needed to leave.
Rather than put up a token fight, Buck just nodded, eager to get this part of his nightmare over with and simultaneously dreading just how much worse it could get.
Before they could get far, brakes screeching from an ambulance stole their attention, and Buck watched as the other firefighter who had been shot that day was wheeled out on a gurney.
“Another firefighter?” Taylor asked.
“What the hell is going on?” Buck muttered, watching on as the woman was rushed into the hospital. This was too detailed. Everything about this nightmare was too detailed, featuring moments that Buck never would have been able to recall with this much clarity. Sure, he was there when it happened, and theoretically, that meant the knowledge was there somewhere in his mind...but something was wrong. Buck wavered, stumbling as he tried to move away from the scene. He needed to think.
“Woah, careful,” Taylor said. Suddenly, her hand was on his elbow as she led him to a nearby bench. Buck collapsed onto it gratefully, and Taylor sat down to his right, hesitating for a moment before placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I know that this is a lot,” she said softly, and Buck had to resist the urge to laugh.
This had been a lot when Buck lived it the first time. Now, the added weight of waiting for something worse to happen made it nearly unbearable. But more than that, the more Buck thought about it, the less he believed this was a nightmare at all. What worried him was that he had no idea what this meant for him if he wasn’t asleep or otherwise unconscious. He didn’t even know where to start to try to figure things out.
Buck dropped his head into his hands, pressing into his eyes with his palms as he tried to settle himself. Maybe he should just go talk to Christopher, and then he could deal with whatever mental crisis he was having later.
“This isn’t your fault.”
Buck knew that, objectively. He didn’t pull the trigger, he just...he was right there, and he took so damn long to move—
Wait.
That wasn’t Taylor.
Buck opened his eyes and jolted, thrown by the stark change in scenery. He was at the hospital, but...this wasn’t Byrne Memorial. This was First Presbyterian. How the hell did he get here? With—
With Eddie sitting next to him.
Buck eyed Eddie subtly. He looked...different. Younger. Thinner? Less bulked up than he’d been recently. And his hair had suddenly grown a couple inches. This wasn’t the Eddie that got shot, nor was it his current Eddie.
What the fuck had his brain come up with now?
“It doesn’t feel that way,” Buck said quietly, deciding on a neutral response. Buck thought a lot of things were his fault, after all.
“What if she had kept running?” Eddie asked. “What if she had kept running? You think he wouldn’t have found her? Only then, she’d be alone.”
Oh. Oh no. Buck recognized where he was now. Or rather, when he was. This was the day Doug had stabbed Chimney and kidnapped Maddie.
What the fuck, brain?!
“She’s alone now. With him,” Buck muttered, the familiar tendril of fear squeezing his insides. This may have already happened, and Maddie may be safe now, but that didn’t take away the fear he’d felt when he found Chimney bleeding out, or the hours upon hours that Maddie had been trapped with Doug, or the terror from seeing a bruised and bloody Maddie stumble and call out to him.
If Maddie hadn’t killed Doug, Buck would have done it himself. He’d never thought or said that about anyone in his life, but for Doug he’d have made an exception.
It was fucked up that he’d had to pay for the relief of seeing Eddie safe and sound with the fear of losing his sister to Doug. If this was a nightmare, there were so many ways this could be made worse. Chimney could die, Doug could disappear with Maddie forever, Doug could kill Maddie...
But the sniper shooting hadn’t been made any worse. This still didn’t feel like a nightmare, but he couldn’t think of any reasonable explanation for how he’d gone from a routine call to moments before the sniper shooting, lived out the entire sequence of events again up until Taylor showed up, and then ended up here, two years earlier, when Maddie was kidnapped by Doug.
Buck would very much like to wake up now.
It was easy to be apologetic and stumble through his words when Athena returned and offered him the chance to ride along to find Maddie. In retrospect, it was a damn miracle that Buck hadn’t gotten in more trouble than a timeout, and he really owed Athena a more groveling thank you.
The moment they got into Athena’s cruiser, Buck considered telling Athena to drive straight to Big Bear. If they could save Maddie earlier, that was a better situation in his book, and if this really was taking place in his head, then what did it matter if he messed with events?
But if it wasn’t...
If this wasn’t in Buck’s head and this was an impossible situation where he was actually reliving events... That sounds insane to even think about...
But...
If this was really happening...
What if changing events made something go wrong? What if arriving at Big Bear early spooked Doug and he ended up killing Maddie before she had the chance to run and fight back?
Buck couldn’t risk it. He just had to hope that events would play out the same way.
“You’re awfully quiet over there, Buckaroo,” Athena said well into their drive.
Buck didn’t know what to say. He knew what would happen; he knew they’d find the truck driver Doug had stashed his phone with, he knew that would lead them to the gas station where Doug had murdered an innocent clerk, he knew they’d eventually get to Big Bear... There were too many steps, and Buck had never been a patient person.
But he’d also never been the type of person to put his sister in harm’s way.
He could deal with the slog of events.
“All the what-ifs are running through my head,” Buck said finally, choosing to look out the window rather than let Athena see how disoriented he was. “What if we don’t find her? What if we do find her but Doug has already killed her?” What if I try to save her sooner and end up being the reason she dies?
“My gut is telling me not to count your sister out just yet. Maddie didn't just rebuild her life. She rebuilt herself. Doug may have her, but I don't think he has any idea who he's dealing with now.”
Buck smiled reluctantly. Athena always knew the best thing to say in stressful situations. She was absolutely right, and Buck had seen the result. Maddie was so much stronger than Doug gave her credit for, and it cost him his life. It was reassurance based on truth, based on facts, based on history. It was reassurance Buck could believe in.
Buck managed to bite his tongue when they pulled over the unsuspecting truck driver, allowing Athena to figure out he’d crossed paths with Doug and Maddie at the gas station. Arriving at the gas station some time later, Buck spared a moment to mourn the loss of the clerk who’d tried to help Maddie. Maybe he could have saved him if he’d tried to alter the sequence of events, but it wasn’t worth the risk to Maddie.
Buck still felt sick at the idea of picking and choosing lives, even if he’d pick Maddie every time.
He distracted himself by looking at the brochures on the wall as Athena talked to a local deputy, and as luck would have it, his eyes fell upon a pocket of Big Bear brochures. Buck longed to grab one, make up a lie about how Doug and Maddie had talked about visiting before, but he knew Detective Marks would come through with information eventually. He knew they'd get to Big Bear...
And they did, although the time it took to get there felt mind numbing. Even worse, Buck had to sit through the speculation of where they might be, rather than running off to where he knew Maddie was. Sure, there were over 300 properties at Big Bear, and it would be hell to try to explain how Buck had made such a lucky guess, but it was Maddie.
Buck tried to keep up with the conversation, even as a buzz flooded his ear drums. The energy it took him to stay still, to not run off and risk interfering with Maddie's final confrontation with Doug, potentially distracting her and letting Doug—
Buck winced, opening his hand to find bloody crescents carved into his palm. He really needed to calm down before Athena noticed and sidelined him—
"I got blood out here!"
The sheriff's voice cut through the buzz, and Buck bolted, the opportunity finally given to him. Finally, finally, he could reach Maddie and see for himself that she was safe from that monster, that she'd won.
"MADDIE!" Buck hollered as he ran down the path. The buzz got louder somehow, the crackling under his skin returning with a vengeance, and Buck forced himself to press on. He had to find Maddie, he had to—
"MADDIE!"
The wind whipped against his face as he ran, icy drops of water stinging his face and dripping into his eyes. Buck wiped them hastily without breaking stride. He wouldn't let a little rain stop him.
"MADDIE!"
The rain increased, slapping painfully against his face, even as Buck found it odd that the ground was hard and dry beneath his shoes—
Wait. It wasn’t raining that day.
"EDDIE!"
It wasn't raining now.
"EDDIE! ED—" No. No, Maddie was in trouble, not Eddie.
Buck tripped on the stone path, startled by how wrong his thoughts were, his shouts, the situation. It was cold and dry, and he was at Big Bear looking for Maddie. His palms were scraped from breaking his fall, and his hair dripped with water as the pouring rain soaked him—
No.
Buck's hands twitched on the hard ground—but the ground melted under him, soggy, thick mud squelching through his fingers as he squeezed.
No, he was at Big Bear—
Except now the sounds of a cacophonous thunderstorm roared around him, the rain pounded against him and splashed into the mud.
The mud that had just fallen onto Eddie.
"EDDIE!"
Fuck, no, not this again, please—
He knew, he knew that Eddie would be alright. He knew that in less than an hour, Eddie would be stumbling into his arms, ice cold but alive. But the all-encompassing fear he'd felt in that moment that he'd lost Eddie forever slammed into him all over again, it crashed into him like a freight train, and Buck could only scream Eddie's name if only to keep breathing.
Eddie had told him once, one quiet evening as they sat on Eddie's couch after Christopher had gone to sleep, about how he'd screamed into the radio—"I'm still alive down here!"—with the draining hope that someone would hear him. He told Buck about how he'd realized that he'd have to get himself out of there when the water started rising. He told Buck about how he'd thought of Christopher.
"And you. I thought of you, too."
The rain washed the tears away as quickly as they fell from Buck's eyes, the heat of them the only proof that they’d even existed in the first place. Buck remembered feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him at Eddie's admission, in the way that he forgot how to breathe because his brain was putting all its energy into making sure the last five seconds had actually happened.
To hear that Eddie had fought to get back to him, had succeeded, when Buck had tried so hard to get to him and failed—
Hands pulled at his body even as Buck continued to claw desperately at the mud. It was so unstable. What if something shifted and Eddie couldn't get out on time? Buck had to keep trying—
Buck fell backward into Bobby's arms, losing his balance in the mud and feeling crushed under the thought of losing Eddie to this. The ladder truck had been nothing; this would surely crush him—
"Oh."
"Wait, hold on."
There were more hands on him, and Buck blinked—somehow Bobby had gotten in front of him.
"Come here," Bobby said, urgently trying to guide Buck into a seated position even as he could feel himself falling—but he was already lying down—
Buck blinked again. The rain was gone, and across the way, Eddie—Eddie's alive!— stared back at him with Christopher wrapped in his arms. Buck could never forget that yellow-striped shirt, the look on Eddie's face when his whole world had been delivered back to him just seconds after Buck told him he’d lost it—
It was too much. Everything was too much. His body had already reached its limit from the tsunami and his mind... Just a minute ago, he'd been running through Big Bear looking for Maddie. It had been a minute.
Please, let it be over, let me wake up—
"Buck!"
It was too much.