Work Text:
It rises.
It falls.
It rises.
And then it falls again.
Steady. As it should be.
It's calm, it's rhythmic, but it doesn't feel good.
It feels wrong. Because it's not the sound of Buck breathing, it's the artifical sound of the machines hooked up to him like some fucking robot, trying to keep Buck's body functioning because Buck can't do that right now.
It's calm, but it's too still.
It's not real.
Unlike Buck, who is real , and full of life and energy and everything good.
Eddie wants to throw up.
Everything is a blur between making it to the hospital and receiving the news about Buck, it's all in bits and pieces, it's like his mind is too wired from the adrenaline pumping in his blood and it leaves him unable to think. Or do anything, really.
Maybe it's the shock.
He doesn't remember everything, but remembers the way Buck's cold, lifeless skin felt under his hands while he was trying to give him life, he remembers how his heart was threatening to burst out when he was explaining to Chris what happened, and he remembers how he felt his battered soul leaving his body when the doctors told them Buck's current status.
He doesn't even want to get his tongue around that word. Maybe if he doesn't say it , then it won't be real.
But the universe is a cruel bastard, and he has nothing against it.
Buck is in a coma, and he may not make it.
Buck died, and Eddie couldn't save him.
It's late at night when he finally gets to be alone with Buck, he insisted on staying— not that he would leave even if someone else were to be here, because Bobby has Athena and the kids, Maddie and Chim have Jee, Hen has Denny and Karen to go home to.
Eddie, however, feels like he is where he's supposed to be.
And the thing is, they aren't really alone because his son is currently in the room sleeping soundly on the couch turned bed with a blanket one of the nurses brought draped over him, he downright refused to go when Eddie asked him to go with Hen, and Edde didn't have it in him to say no.
So now, in the silent room the hallway lights ooze their dim hue into, Eddie is sitting on the chair next to Buck's bed, watching the way his friend's chest rises and falls evenly.
It's a funny thing how the younger man looks like he's sleeping rather than technically being half dead, his slack face and disheveled curls look just like how Eddie remembers seeing him passed out on the couch in the morning when he stayed the night.
Only difference is that now he has a tube down his throat, giving him life because Buck can't breathe on his own.
Eddie wonders if he will be lucky enough to see that sight again.
He can only beg.
Staring through the wall with dull eyes, Eddie takes the last sip from the warm cup of tea before putting it on the stand next to him, the tea that Bobby slipped into his hand before he left because by the end of the night, his throat was scratching and his voice was hoarse from shouting too much.
His face falls in a grimace when the warm liquid travels down his throat, and it feels heavy to swallow. But it's nothing compared to the heaviness in his heart.
And then, his eyes land on Buck's motionless form again.
Now that he's alone with his thoughts, the exhaustion seeps into his bones and reality of what happened in the past few hours hits him like a truck.
He can lose Buck.
He may not be able to see him by his side ever again.
No— no, that's not gonna happen, he is not gonna lose Buck, it's Buck , the strongest, bravest man Eddie has ever known, and Buck will fight back, he will wake up.
Buck will live.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Eddie lets out a long sigh and rubs a hand down his face, and slumps deeper into the chair, his arms crossed.
"You know…" Eddie trails off, his voice quiet. "I didn't even realize what happened at first."
He doesn't know what he's doing or why he's doing it; he doesn't even know if Buck can hear him, but Eddie needs this.
He needs to let go.
"But then I saw you hanging like that." His stomach clenches again when the scene he'd been trying to bury to the back of his brain for the last few hours pops up again, he briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head as if it will make it go away. "It's like everything stopped. So I ran."
He stares at Chris' sleeping form for a second, and when he makes sure his son is still asleep, Eddie continues:
"You were hanging in the air and I tried to pull you up— I tried but I couldn't, and you weren't moving and I had to do something ."
He waits for Buck to say something, to tell him it's okay, that he did everything he could, but Buck doesn't say anything. He keeps sleeping.
"And when I lowered you down, you were just…lifeless." The beat of his heart speeds up, kicking against his ribcage and there is a sharp pain in his head, squeezing his skull and spreading everywhere.
Eddie doesn't feel good.
The more he talks, the worse the nightmare he lived gets etched into his brain.
"Did you know Bobby told me to drive?" He says lightheartedly then, trying to lighten up the room for nothing, his face softening with a playful expression. "I think I did a pretty good job. Even though you'd probably say otherwise."
His voice trails off and Eddie finds himself getting quiet; no matter how hard he tries, his forced playfulness dies down and he can't bring himself to loosen up and act like Buck isn't dying.
No words dare to come out after that, his face drops again, and his hazels stare blank, not really seeing anything.
He's fucking tired.
Only a while later when he's deep in his thoughts, Eddie's hoarse voice fills the room:
"The doctors said there is a chance you may not wake up." The words taste acidic in his mouth, burning his lips, and Eddie's face screws up at them like he just ate something sour. He shakes his head, shrugging. "But they don't know you like I do."
A bitter, breathy scoff vibrates his throat, but it's not funny, none of this is.
"You gotta wake up, man." Eddie almost whispers, his eyes finally focusing on the still figure in front of him, his friend. Maybe more than.
He straightens himself up in his seat, and clears his throat. "You know what's funny? We've known each other for like— what? Five years? But it feels longer than that. I think I'm so used to having you in my life that I thought I would never lose you." There is desperation lying underneath his tired voice, a sense of aching. "You were everywhere, and I thought you'd never leave."
His eyes slowly land on Chris, Eddie realizes how much Buck and his son look alike. For some reason, it hurts.
"Chris loves you so much."
There is more, but he can't bring himself to say the rest of it.
Not now. Because it's not fair.
What they are living through , is not fair.
He feels his face heating up and burning his skin, and his eyes slowly sting with fresh tears trying to force their way in. It's like there is a barbed wire around his neck, sucking the breath out of him and making him dizzy. There is a tightness in his chest and it hurts , it hurts so fucking bad.
"I— uh…"
God, he can't fucking do it.
"I think I need you more than you need me." His voice cracks at the last word, too heavy with pain; before Eddie can stop it, his breath hitches in his throat and everything gets blurry. "I don't think I can do it without you."
His hands tingle with the need to touch , to feel, his insides yearn with want; Eddie leans forward and places his hand on Buck's, wrapping his fingers around to feel the soft skin beneath his fingertips. His thumb slowly caresses back and forth, back and forth, mimicking the rhythm of his own heartbeat.
He looks at Buck's slack, pale face, and whispers— begs: "Wake up."
Eddie waits for a twitch in Buck's hand, he waits for a change in the static beating of the monitor or for Buck's eyes to flutter; because that's what happens in movies, right?
But nothing changes.
His hand doesn't twitch, his eyes don't flutter.
Buck keeps sleeping, and Eddie's heart shatters.
He feels a wetness on his face, then a tear rolling down his face but he quickly wipes it off with the back of his other hand and sniffles.
Because there is nothing to cry for, Buck is going to wake up, he doesn't have to cry. Buck will wake up.
Eddie knows that.
He will wake up.
He will.
Buck wakes up.
Buck wakes up and three days later, Eddie takes him home.
"Let's take this off." Eddie says quietly as his hands reach around Buck's neck to untie the gown.
He already signed the discharged papers and brought his own clothes for Buck to wear, now all they have to do is to get ready and go.
Buck still looks tired, he still looks a little out of it most of the time, but he woke up. He is alive . And that's all that matters to Eddie.
He can deal with the rest.
Buck's curls tickle the side of his neck as the younger man slowly bends his head forward so Eddie can have better access, his forehead almost presses against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie barely holds back the soft smile tugging at his lips.
There is still some weakness to Buck even though he doesn't want to admit it, his movements are still stiff and Eddie can see the pain crossing his face when he moves a little too fast, so Eddie makes it known that he's here to take care of it all. He's here to take care of Buck.
When the gown is off, Eddie unfolds the loose t-shirt on the mattress and slides it through Buck's head, making Buck's curls way messier.
"Give me your arm."
Buck rolls his eyes at him, but the fondness behind it can be seen from the space.
"I'm not a kid, you know." Buck says, voice raspy around the edges.
Eddie smiles. "I know. Give me your arm."
And, Buck doesn't protest.
Eddie holds his forearm, and slowly, gently , slides it through the soft fabric.
"Easy, easy." Eddie says quietly when Buck lets out a quiet whimper and his face twists.
His eyes catch the traces of the scar painting Buck's chest before he takes Buck's other hand. It's mostly faded by now, but there is enough redness to remind them what happened.
Eddie doesn't find it disgusting, though, if anything, it's a sign that Buck survived. That he fought back.
He gently holds Buck's other arm and slides it through as well, and his knuckles brush Buck's sides as he lowers the fabric down to his waist.
Eddie repeats the same steps for the sweatpants, only he has to wrap his arms around Buck to help him get up so he can pull the waistband up.
Buck clenches his jaw to suppress his half groan as he pulls his pants up, and his torso basically gets plastered to Eddie's as he lets Eddie hold him close, pliant under his hands.
It feels warm. Buck feels warm, and it spreads through Eddie's chest.
It feels good.
After everything's done, Eddie picks up Buck's bag and smiles at Buck, who is already looking at him with a fond look on his face that makes Eddie's heart skip a beat. "Come on, let's go."
Buck wakes up, and Eddie takes him home.