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The two most powerful warriors are patience and time. - Leo Tolstoy
Hen doesn’t know what to do.
It’s not often that she says that. She’s the calm one, the one the others go to in moments of chaos. She keeps her cool.
She mostly keeps her cool when she sees Buck dangling from the ladder, as she listens to Eddie scream his name before lowering him down. She feels herself cracking a bit as Chimney starts compressions, the sound of Buck’s ribs breaking enough to chip away at her edges even more. In the back of the ambulance, Chimney starts flagging, they switch roles, and as she pounds on Buck’s chest, she’s not sure how she’ll ever recover from this.
Eddie takes over once at the hospital, and as soon as they have a pulse, Buck is being rushed off with Eddie shouting in their wake. She watches after them, her heart pounding in her throat and her hands shaking, and when she turns to Eddie —
He collapses on the ground, and Hen just stands there.
“What –” She starts, but Chimney is already moving, crouching down and gently shaking Eddie to try and wake him up. His fingers rest against his throat, waiting, listening, and Hen feels her heart stop again when it takes a second too long. She knows that Chimney can instantly feel a pulse, and that moment, that hesitation -
“No pulse!” Chimney shouts, and there’s a crash cart and emergency room physicians and nurses already rushing towards them. Chimney pushes Eddie’s turnouts off and rips his shirt open, and Hen just – watches.
Her hands are shaking, her mouth slightly parted as she watches them bring Eddie back. She hears so many different words – shock and electrocution and burns on hands and cardiac arrest – but she doesn’t need to hear any of them to know.
She knows that Eddie would prioritize Buck over himself, always, even if he, too, had been struck by lightning.
Because Eddie was on the ladder, too. And lightning always strikes twice.
She feels her knees give out as they declare that they have a pulse, and before she knows it, Eddie is on a gurney and being rushed to the back, the same route that they just took Buck. She feels Bobby’s hand on her elbow, keeping her upright, but when she turns to look at him, his eyes are scared and watering, his own hands shaking, just like hers.
Chimney takes a shuddering breath before standing up, and Bobby instantly wraps his other arm around his shoulders, bringing him into their embrace.
“What just happened?” Chimney breathes. Bobby just shakes his head, and Hen closes her eyes and forces herself to take deep breaths.
“We have to tell the families,” Bobby says, calmly, evenly, despite the crack in his voice. “Maddie, and Eddie’s aunt and parents, and . . .”
He trails off, but she knows that he’s thinking of Christopher.
Christopher, whose legal guardian is Buck, who is also in the hospital.
“I think he’s with Carla tonight?” Bobby thinks, his brow furrowing. “But his guardian is Buck, and I - I don’t . . .”
Because they never thought that it would be both of them, even if they really should have expected it at some point.
She thinks back to a conversation she had with Eddie, after the fire at dispatch. He sat in her living room, teacup in hand and a concerned expression on his face.
“Hen,” he said softly. “You’re one of my best friends, and a great mom, a good person. If - if something ever happens to both me and Buck . . .”
He didn’t even have to finish the question, because she knew.
She takes a deep breath and looks up at Bobby. “It’s me,” she says quietly. Bobby and Chim both look at her, then, eyes concerned and confused. “I’m Christopher’s guardian if something ever happens to both Eddie and Buck.”
And Hen, for the first time in a long time while on the job — when it’s not related to her own wife, that is — breaks down and cries.
Bobby calls Eddie’s aunt once they’re settled in the waiting room. She’s apparently in Texas visiting his Abuela, but they all plan on coming back on the next available flight.
Hen steeples her hands and presses her forehead into her fingers. She can feel Bobby’s eyes on her, but she can’t bring herself to look back.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Bobby tells her quietly. “I’m going to tell Chris as soon as we know what’s going on. He can come back to our house, if you want. May can watch him if we’re here.”
What Hen wants is for Buck and Eddie to be next to her, awake and talking and laughing, but instead, she’s left with a pit in her stomach and a feeling of uncertainty.
“I think,” she breathes without opening her eyes, “I think that I need to call Karen, and we need to go tell Chris, and then I can stay with Chris until his aunt and Abuela get here.”
“Hen,” Bobby says softly, his hand on her upper back. She focuses on the weight of his hand as she takes deep breaths, but all she can think of is Buck’s still chest beneath her hands and the way Eddie collapsed to the ground.
Bobby doesn’t say anything more, but Hen doesn’t think there’s anything left to say.
She keeps her eyes closed, fingers pressed into the space between her eyebrows. Her glasses are somewhere next to her, filled with tears and rainwater and mud, so cloudy that she can barely see out of them. But it doesn’t feel like it matters, not when half of her family is somewhere in the hospital, fighting for their lives.
A soft hand on her shoulder, followed by the light press of lips against the top of her head.
“Hen,” Karen’s voice whispers in her ear. “Honey.”
Hen deflates at the sound, because the one person in the world that she wants more than Buck and Eddie right now just materialized next to her.
“Bobby called me,” Karen says as she sits on Hen’s other side. She opens her eyes, and Karen’s own are filled with unshed tears. She hands Hen her glasses – freshly cleaned – and once on, Hen can see Bobby sitting next to her still, head bowed and lips moving in a silent prayer.
Hen sags into Karen’s side as her arm wraps around her, and Hen wonders if she should be crying by now. It feels like she should be, but she just – can’t, not when she doesn’t know.
“I didn’t do anything,” she whispers, voice now hoarse as she says it. “When Eddie went down, I – I didn’t do anything.”
“Chimney was right there,” Bobby’s voice sounds from her other side. “I swear, Hen, there was nothing more you could have done. Chim was next to him, and he would have been the first there anyway.”
“He’s my friend,” Hen says simply. “They’re – they’re . . .”
They’re her brothers, is what she wants to say. Her family.
But she doesn’t need to say it, because the words float in the air anyway. They all know them to be true.
It feels like hours until a doctor walks out for them, but for all Hen knows, it could have been minutes, hours, days. It all feels the same.
“Robert Nash is listed as an emergency contact for both Evan Buckley and Edmundo Diaz,” the physician says into the room. Bobby stands up, and Hen grips Karen’s hand hard. “We have news on both of them.”
“Go ahead,” Bobby says, nodding to the room around them. Hen notes that at some point, Maddie and the Buckley parents joined them. “They can all hear.”
The doctor nods. “Mr. Buckley is currently in critical condition, on a ventilator, and in a medically induced coma. We’ll have to see how the next 24 hours go, but for now, his vitals are stable.”
Karen squeezes her hand, and Hen doesn’t let herself process it yet.
“Edmundo Diaz had a brief cardiac event, likely also from the lightning bolt, but less severe as it does not appear he was directly struck,” the doctor continues. “His heart is back in normal rhythm, and his vitals are stable. His hands received burns from where he was likely gripping the ladder when the bolt hit. He has a nasal cannula but is breathing on his own, although he’s still unconscious.”
“When will he wake up?” Chimney asks.
“Whenever he feels like it,” the doctor says. “His body went through a trauma and he may just need a moment to heal. We can’t say when for sure, but we’re hopeful it will be within 24 hours.”
“Thank you,” Bobby tells him. The doctor nods.
“They’re in rooms next to each other in the ICU,” he says. “Diaz may be moved to the general floor once awake, but for now, we’ll keep them close. Visiting hours start at 8 AM.”
Bobby thanks him again, and the doctor walks back through the doors. He sinks back into his seat next to Hen and buries his face in his hands.
It feels like a nightmare, if she’s honest. Like it’s something that’s not really happening to her. But the reality of the situation hits her as soon as she thinks about Christopher again.
“Bobby,” she whispers. “Bobby, we have to go tell Chris.”
Karen squeezes her shoulder again and presses another kiss to her temple. “Are you going to stay with him?”
“Until his family gets back from Texas.”
“You are his family, too,” Karen whispers, kissing her once before standing up and shouldering her bag. She grabs a duffle bag from the chair next to her and hands it over to Hen. “Remember that, okay? That boy’s dads are both unconscious right now, and he needs you.”
Hen nods once as Karen heads out, likely to make sure Denny is actually in bed and not awake and playing video games in the middle of the night. She grips the duffle tight, suddenly thankful for everything that her wife is.
Bobby comes up next to her a few moments later, and the two of them silently make their way out to the Captain’s truck that one of the other 118 members brought over for them.
The drive is silent. Hen rests her head against the window, and she can see Bobby’s white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. It feels like there’s nothing left to say – not until one of them wakes up.
“I’ll tell him,” Bobby says quietly as they pull into the driveway of the Diaz’s. “You just be there for him, okay?”
Hen nods and slowly opens her door. It feels – wrong, like it shouldn’t be her doing this. It should be Buck, or Eddie, but, really, it shouldn’t be happening at all.
Bobby knocks on the door, and when Carla opens it, her face is long and filled with sorrow. Bobby must have called her already to give her a heads up.
“Is he awake?” Bobby asks quietly.
Carla nods. “He knows something is wrong, but not what,” she whispers. “He’s in bed, but I doubt he’s sleeping.”
Bobby nods, and the three of them make their way towards Christopher’s bedroom. Hen can see the faint glow of what she knows is a flashlight. Bobby slowly pushes the door open, and as soon as he does, Christopher’s head pops out from under the covers.
Hen can see the moment he realizes that they aren’t who he was expecting. His face, initially happy and expectant, clearly expecting either Eddie or Buck – or both – to walk through the door, turns into a frown when he sees Hen and Bobby, fear laced in every feature as his voice wobbles.
“Where are they?” He croaks, clutching his blanket closer to him. His eyes are watering already, and Hen – Hen wants to run away, she doesn’t want to see this. It shouldn’t be her standing here, but the two people that can handle this are currently unconscious. “What happened?”
Bobby kneels in front of Christopher, and Hen hears him clear his throat before he starts talking. He sounds as choked up as she feels.
“We were on a call,” he starts slowly. “And your dad and Buck were – were on the ladder, and lightning came and struck both Buck and the ladder.”
Christopher whimpers into the blanket, the sound piercing Hen’s heart in half. She reaches a hand out and squeezes Christopher’s knee beneath the blanket, wanting to wrap him in her arms and never let him go.
“Buck is currently in the hospital, and he’s – in a coma, with machines helping him breathe while he heals,” Bobby continues.
Christopher nods, tears now falling from his eyes. “Dad?” He whispers. “What – Where’s Dad?”
“He helped us get Buck to the hospital, and then once we were there, we realized that the lightning got him a little bit, too,” Bobby says simply, keeping the worst out of it. “The doctors helped him, but he’s currently asleep, although they think he should wake up soon.”
“Are they going to be okay?” Chris asks. Hen gets up to sit on the bed then, and Christopher immediately curls into her side. He seems so much smaller like this, in his pajamas and crying in his bed. She wraps her arms around him, and he sniffles into her shoulder.
“They’re doing everything they can to help Buck,” she says into his hair. “And your dad will wake up soon, okay? He’ll want to see you as soon as he can.”
“I want to see them,” Christopher sniffles. “Please.”
Hen shares a glance with Bobby. They both know that kids are allowed in the ICU, but they know that they’re going to find a way to sneak this one in.
“Hopefully your dad will be awake in the morning,” Hen murmurs. “But I’ll stay with you tonight, okay? And your grandparents and Pepa and Isabel are coming from Texas and should be here tomorrow night.”
Chris buries his head in her shoulder again and sniffles. “I just want my dads,” he sobs quietly into her shirt. “Please.”
And Hen does start crying then. She clears her throat and uses her free arm to wipe at her eyes, and when she looks at Bobby, she sees that he’s crying, too. She wants to promise Chris that everything will be okay, that both Buck and Eddie will wake up and everything will be fine. But she doesn’t know how to do that, not when she’s not even sure of it herself.
Bobby stays with them until Chris finally falls asleep, leaning against Hen’s side with the blankest still wrapped around him. His eyes have dried themselves of all tears, but Hen is just glad that he finally is calm enough to rest.
They ease him off of her and into bed, and once they’re sure he’s actually asleep, they carefully make their way into the living room. Carla left a while ago, so it’s just the two of them in the dimly lit room.
“I’ll call you if anything changes,” Bobby tells her seriously. “Carla said she’ll come in the morning to watch him so you can go see them. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“He’ll want to come,” she says, and Bobby nods.
“She’ll bring him around noon,” he says. “I’m – I’m hoping Eddie will be awake by then. I don’t want him to see him like that, if we can help it.”
Hen exhales and nods. “Okay.”
“Text me if you need anything, okay?” Bobby asks, voice low, head ducking to catch her wandering gaze. “I’m serious, Henrietta. We – We’re all going through this, and we need to lean on each other.”
Bobby hugs her, then. It’s a big hug, a long hug, one that he doesn’t give out frequently. She leans into his embrace as he squeezes her, and she wants – she wants Chimney, and Buck, and Eddie. She wants their annoying chatter in her ear, Buck and Eddie’s flirting, Chimney’s annoying gum chewing.
“Call Chim,” Bobby says when he pulls away, because he knows Hen, and he knows what she needs. “He’ll be waiting for your call, anyway.”
Hen watches as Bobby leaves, the lights from the truck fading as he drives down the street. She carefully gets up and closes all the blinds, and when she opens the duffle bag that Karen sent her with, she pulls out a pair of sweats to find that Karen packed her favorite throw blanket.
She pulls it out and grips it tightly and, as the night continues to pass, she buries her face in it and takes a deep breath. They’ve all been hurt on the job before, her included, but this – this feels different. None of them have come as close as Buck, none of them were actually dead for any prolonged period of time. Suddenly, they all feel a little less invincible.
She carefully pulls her phone out of her pocket, her hand shaking as she presses Chimney’s contact and holds her phone to her ear. It rings only a few times before his muted voice is sounding through the speaker.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “You okay?”
She takes a deep breath again, and she just – she loves her best friend so much. It’s always true, but right now, she can feel his concern for her even through the phone. She doesn’t know what she did in another life to deserve Chimney in her life.
“I mean,” she breathes, “No.”
“How’s Chris?”
“He’s sleeping,” she takes a deep breath, because what else is there to say? He’s upset, he’s anxious, he’s worried, but of course he is. It feels like those words aren’t enough to describe grief that Christopher is likely feeling.
Chimney exhales once, long and deep and it’s enough to ground Hen just a little.
“I’m going to take Maddie home soon,” he says quietly. “She can’t stay here all night, and Jee is with Mrs. Lee but we don’t want to leave her there all night.”
“They’ll call her if anything happens?”
“To Buck, yeah,” he says. “And Bobby for both of them.”
Hen nods, and Chim keeps her on the line as he gets Maddie up and out of the hospital. They don’t talk anymore after that; it’s like Chimney knows that she just needs the company. Hen changes into the sweats and t-shirt that Karen brought for her, and when she finally, finally dozes on the couch, it’s to Chimney’s voice humming Jee to sleep in the background.
In the morning, Hen gets Christopher up and fed. She calls the school to inform them of what’s going on and that he won’t be in for the day, and she’s surprised that they have her listed as an emergency contact and approved pick-up person for Christopher. She remembers when Buck told her that Eddie made him Christopher’s legal guardian and kept it a secret for so many years, and she’s starting to realize that Eddie just likes to keep these things close to his chest. She knows that Christopher is his greatest treasure, and to even be trusted with him a little bit feels like a high honor.
Chris is silent throughout breakfast, stirring his cereal with the spoon but hardly taking three bites. She wants to press, to push, but she knows that he’s probably just going to go hide in his room again as soon as Carla gets here and Hen leaves for the hospital.
She’s been checking her phone repeatedly, and there’s no news for either of them yet. Her hands shake every time she looks at her notifications, and her heart drops when all she sees is an empty screen or a text from Bobby just saying, No updates.
Christopher sniffles into his cereal, and Hen sits next to him, phone face-up on the table.
“Hey,” she says gently, bumping his elbow with her own. “You know your dad is stubborn, right? He’ll always fight to come back to you.”
Chris snorts a little, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “This just keeps happening.”
“Neither of them did anything wrong, buddy,” Hen says gently. “This was just – a freak accident, really.”
Chris wipes his nose on the back of his hand, and the mother in Hen wants to scold him, but instead, she just hands him a napkin. “I just want them back.”
“Your dad will probably be waking up soon,” she says, not wanting to promise him anything even if she wants to give him the whole world right now. “And you’ll be the first one we call, okay?”
Christopher nods, and she wraps him in a hug just as Carla walks in the door.
“Thanks, Hen,” Christopher mumbles into her shoulder, and Hen just squeezes him tighter.
Bobby comes to pick Hen up a few minutes later, and as they drive to the hospital in silence, it feels like a repeat of yesterday. Bobby’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel again, his expression stony as he watches the road. Her heart feels stuck in her chest, and she doesn’t think she’s taken a full breath since the lightning struck and Buck fell.
They walk into the hospital and up to the ICU waiting room. Chim is in the waiting room with the Buckley parents, much to Hen’s surprise, and she’s guessing that Maddie is in the room with Buck now.
“Can I –” She clears her throat, nodding towards the room that she knows Eddie is in. “Is anyone in there?”
Chimney shakes his head. “I just got out,” he says quietly. “He’s stable and showing signs of waking up.”
Hen nods and heads towards the door, slowly cracking it open and entering. She closes the door quietly behind her, not wanting to let the chatter of the hospital into the otherwise quiet room. There’s a heart monitor quietly beeping, but that’s the only sound in the room. His nasal cannula must have been removed at some point, because he’s still in the bed, chest rising and falling with ease, but his eyes are closed.
She sinks into the seat next to him, her hand immediately reaching out to grip his wrist. Both of his hands are bandaged from the burns, but from the faint edges of pink she can see, it doesn’t look too bad.
Hen takes a deep breath. “Your kid . . .” she starts, pausing only for a second before continuing. “He’s so strong, Eddie. You need to come back for him. He needs you, and we – we need you.”
She doesn’t know what else to say. Her hand shakes as she squeezes his wrist again, the feeling of his pulse under her fingers enough to keep her grounded. Time passes, although Hen isn’t sure how much. A nurse comes and goes, Bobby pops his head in to check on her, but she just sits there with Eddie’s hand in her own and waits, waits, waits.
And then, an indeterminate amount of time later, Eddie groans and cracks an eye open.
“Am I dead?” He grumbles.
Hen shoots up, immediately pushing the call button to alert the nurse.
“Eddie?” She asks, rushing over to his other side and looking at his vitals on the monitor at the same time. “Hey, are you awake?”
“Unfortunately,” he groans again. “Feels like I was hit by a truck.”
“Just struck by lightning,” she says gently. Eddie turns towards her with a frown, and she can see the initial confusion on his face as he thinks about the night before. And then – then she sees it.
It’s clear when he remembers everything – his face morphs from confusion to horror, the image of Buck hanging from the ladder probably coming back to him all at once.
She can’t imagine, having to relive that again. She sees it every time she closes her eyes, but she never forgot. Doesn’t think she’ll forget for as long as she lives.
“Buck,” he gasps, sitting up and groaning when the movement was obvious too much for him. “Buck, where – where is he? Is he –” He starts to pull at his IV, trying to swivel out of bed, but Hen gently pushes at his shoulders and grabs his hand without the IV in her own.
“Eddie,” she says softly, and a nurse comes rushing in then. She takes one look at Eddie and grabs her phone, likely paging the attending. “Eddie –”
“I need to – where is Buck?” Eddie’s voice sounds panicked now, high and cracking. “Buck was – is he –”
“He’s alive, Eddie, he’s just –” She clears her throat. “Buck is in a coma.”
Eddie looks at her for one moment too long, and Hen wants to retract the statement. She wants to lie to Eddie, wants to spoon-feed him a false narrative just to wipe the look off his face.
Because – because Eddie looks devastated. His face falls, and she can see on the monitor that his heart rate is rising, she can see his chest rising and falling quicker as he starts gasping in breaths.
“Eddie,” she whispers, squeezing his wrist. “Eddie, breathe.”
“He’s –” he gasps, and tears are now falling from his eyes. “What about –” His eyes widen again, and he looks at Hen again, this time with fear in his eyes. “How long was I out for?”
“Only about twelve hours,” she says softly. She sees him deflate, and she knows what he just thought about – Christopher, and the fact that his legal guardian was in a coma while Eddie was unconscious. “Hey, hey,” she says when he starts to breathe heavily again. “I stayed with Chris last night, he’s – not okay, but he’s healthy and cared for. He’s going to want to see you.”
“I need to see him,” Eddie says instantly, and the nurse and a physician come into the room then. “Hen, can you –”
“I’ll call him,” Hen tells him, and then she’s ushered out of the room, although she plans to stay right outside the door.
Everyone is looking at her expectantly when she exits, clearly having noticed the commotion of the nurse and doctors filing in and out of the room.
“He’s awake,” she says quietly, tears in her eyes as she fumbles for her phone to call Carla. “He’s – panicked, about Buck.”
She sees them all sigh in relief, although not enough to heal. Maddie nods once, and she knows what she’s thinking – he’s panicked about Buck, but aren’t they all?
Chris comes rushing into the hospital, Carla a few steps behind him.
“Let me see him,” he says, storming straight up to Hen. “I have to see him.”
Hen glances over at the nurses, making sure they’re distracted, before quickly ushering Christopher into the room and closing the door behind them. She watches as Christopher takes one look at Eddie before rushing over to him, Eddie’s arms immediately opening for him and wrapping him in a hug.
“Mijo,” he breathes into his hair, and she can see Christopher’s shoulders shaking. “Chris, I’m so sorry.”
Christopher mumbles something into his chest, too muffled for Hen to hear, but Eddie makes a choked noise in response.
“I promise, you’ll get to see Buck,” he murmurs in reply, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes meet Hen’s over the top of his head, and Hen nods, knowing that she’ll sneak him into Buck’s room, too. “Hen will help you.”
More unintelligible words from Christopher, a string of sentences put together, judging by how long she hears the low sounds coming from him, and Eddie’s eyes fill with tears as he squeezes him harder.
“I’m here, buddy,” he presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so sorry. I’m right here. And I know we need him.”
Chris stays in Eddie’s embrace for a few moments longer, Eddie’s arms squeezing him tight as Christopher grips his shirt.
In that moment, Hen wants Denny. She wants to wrap him in her arms and squeeze him, wants Karen next to her with both arms around Hen.
Carla pops her head in a few moments later. “Incoming,” she says simply before slipping back out.
Eddie pats Chris once on the back. “I’ll be moved to a different room soon,” he says quietly. “And then you can stay in there with me for a while, okay?”
Christopher nods, and Hen helps usher him out of the room and towards Carla before they can get in trouble. When she turns back to Eddie, his head is buried in his hands and his shoulders are shaking.
He looks – he looks like Hen did when Karen was unresponsive. He looks like his whole world is shattering beneath him.
“Hen,” he croaks. “What am I going to do?”
Hen wishes she had an answer, but she remembers thinking the same thing before Karen finally came back to her. And, looking at Eddie now, she doesn’t know how she missed this – how the love Eddie holds for Buck went under her radar. But now, with Eddie sitting in the hospital bed and grieving, it seems so obvious.
“He’ll fight to come back to you,” she says, reiterating the words she said to Christopher last night. Because if Buck is anything, it’s a stubborn, stubborn fighter.
“I need to see him,” Eddie looks at her suddenly, his eyes red and wild. “Hen, I –”
“I know,” she murmurs, coming closer to squeeze his shoulder. “They’ll let you see him once you’re moved to the general floor, okay? I promise.”
And she does promise, because she knows she would claw her way out of her skin to see Karen if the roles were reversed.
Eddie nods once and deflates, and Hen wants to fix this, wants to fix everything, but the only way to fix everything is for Buck to wake up.
Eddie is moved to the general floor later that evening, and the nurses anticipate his discharge in the next few days. His parents, abuela, and aunt arrived a few hours ago and are now at home with Christopher, after Chris successfully was snuck into Buck’s room by Eddie and Carla. Hen watches through the window of Buck’s room as Eddie sits in the chair next to him, his lips moving as he gently cups Buck’s wrist in his own burnt hand.
Eddie, with his own burnt and bandaged hands, afraid to touch Buck’s burns but with no care for his own. It’s always the little things like that with Eddie – the small gestures, the small glances, but then it’s the big and silent things, too – writing Buck in his will, adding Hen to the approved pick-up list. Eddie shows his love in so many different ways, but never directly, with the exception of Christopher.
And now, it seems, Buck.
Because Hen watches as he presses the back of Buck’s hand to his mouth and gently kisses it through the bandage. She watches as his mouth forms the words, I love you, and whether he’s saying them silently or out loud, she would recognize those words on anyone. She hopes, for his sake, that he’s saying them out loud, hopes that Buck can hear them, wherever he is.
And she doesn’t know what will happen, doesn’t know what faces them in the future. But as Eddie closes his eyes and presses Buck’s hand against his forehead, she just hopes that they’ll be able to have this.
Buck takes a breath, the heart monitor remains steady, and Hen waits, and hopes, and breathes, watching as Eddie does the same.
She startles to Bobby’s hand clasped on her shoulder.
“Come on,” he murmurs quietly. “Give them some privacy.”
She turns then to look at him, and his eyes are soft, but still with the hint of worry. And she thinks that he must know, too, has maybe known for longer. Bobby is always wise and omniscient, especially where Buck is concerned.
“Is he going to pull through?” Hen murmurs as Bobby leads her down the hall and towards the staircase, likely taking her to the hospital coffee shop.
And Bobby just hums. “He has to. For us, and for them.”
And Hen thinks of Chris’s shattered face, of Eddie’s grieving. She hears how Eddie screamed for Buck when he saw him hanging, and . . .
Hen lets out a deep breath and lets Bobby buy her a latte. Because if Buck is going to pull through for anyone, it’s going to be for them, but she hopes it will be for himself a little bit, too.