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Buck had been feeling low the whole day already. He felt sluggish and the time protracted.
At the fire station, no one asked about him. Bobby was still keeping his distance because of the lawsuit, only talking to Buck when absolutely necessary. Hen was looking after the young firefighter a bit more often. But only looking. If she ever noticed something, she kept silence. Chimney straight up scoffed at him and rolled his eyes all the time whenever Buck's name was only mentioned.
But the worst was Eddie. His boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, was avoiding him by every means.
They broke up the day Buck lingered in the store, wanting to see the 118.
After they had to part because of an accident, Buck was left alone in the store, battered and empty. Eddie had called him exhausting and looking back at everything, Buck can only agree.
In the evening, Buck received a text message from Eddie. At first he was totally surprised that the older still writes him but after reading the words, he understood.
Eddie called a break on them. He can't handle Buck's tantrum with the lawsuit.
And until now, they still haven't talked. Even though Buck is back at the job and had dropped the lawsuit.
The day was rough. Not because the calls were draining, heck no, Bobby still had him on man behind. But the day was rough because Buck felt left behind- left out.
But now, home again, sitting with a bottle of whatever liquid was easiest to grab on his table, Buck feels just how alone he really is.
Due to the circumstances, even Maddie was drawn to Chimney and therefore only barely leaving a message as check up. Her care feels forced. As if she does this because she has to - since they are unfortunately bound by blood.
Buck drowns another gulp, not even making a grimace anymore because of the bitterness or spice.
He barely drinks to be drunk. Normally it's to relax a bit better. This time though, he drinks to forget.
The bottle is already half empty when Buck overcomes a rush of hatred.
It's nothing uncommon for him to hate his actions but this one is different.
He hates his former friends for having saved his life. He hates them for keeping him stable until the fire truck was lifted off him. He hates them for being fast with working when he suffered the blood clots. He hates them for tending to his wounds after the tsunami. He simply hates having survived.
Buck stands up a little too fast, his legs wobble beneath him and his vision blackens for a second. With a blurry mind his hand reaches around the table, making it easier to find his way to the bathroom without seeing clearly.
If his all these people wanted him to survive -wanted him to stay with them-, why are they making him so miserable now that he is alive and there?
He will end all their suffering.
In his drunk state he stumbles a lot, crashing with his shoulder into the wall or the railing of his loft. He doesn’t care about the pain. No, he enjoys it.
The young man had a history with self-harm. Back when he was a teenager, he used to cut himself as a punishment. He must have done something wrong to not being able to be enough for his parents.
A bit later when he worked in a bar, Buck found himself cutting again because his life felt so colourless. He wanted to feel again.
When Bobby fired him for steeling the fire truck, Buck cut to control the pain. The 118's captain was like his dad but he made sure that he doesn't feel like Buck is his kid. He didn't want to be responsible for Buck's stupid actions.
And since the super market and his breakup with Eddie, cutting became a regularity. He doesn’t always have a reason. Cutting as punishment, cutting to feel something, cutting to control the pain he feels and sometimes - in the last days a little bit too often - sometimes he cuts just to bleed and see the life vanishing from his body.
He doesn’t care about the blood thinners. Either he survives his session or not. Either he is too stupid and cuts too deep or he keeps it at bay.
But today his goal is to end it all.
His drunk brain makes him grab for his phone on his way and with a chuckle he sends Eddie a text message.
If Buck had been sober, he would punch himself for being that stupid.
But now he just finds it funny and maybe deep down it is a small cry for help.
> I'm taking care of your problem. Love you a lot<
It's really simple, so maybe Eddie doesn't even get the meaning of the message or thinks that Buck texted the wrong number.
With an exhausting sigh he lets his phone slip back into his pocket.
Once he arrives in his bathroom, he makes a grab for the cabinet. His shaking fingers push away all the other tubes or cans for body care until he finds his razor blades.
He needs fresh ones. The ones that are able to split his skin faster and deeper. The ones that are still sharp.
With the new razor blade in his hand, he slumped down next to the bathtub. His hands are weirdly stable when Buck holds the blade against his lower arm.
He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath, smiling. Finally, no one will have to suffer anymore because of him.
With easiness he pulls the blade through his skin. He giggles at the pain and sighs relaxed. The warm blood is fast with seeping from the fresh gash.
But one cut will never be enough to satisfy his heart. Now that he wants to die and tries to die, he can do all the damage he wants to his body.
With an aggressive snarl, Buck puts more pressure in his grip before he lets the blade part his skin deep enough to be able to see all the layers of skin. And even though he is on blood thinners, the gash needs just a little bit longer to be filled with blood. It downright flows from his arm at some point and the drunk firefighter lets out a relieved cheer before the noise ends in a sob.
Screw the alcohol. Screw feelings.
He hates that he ended up being how he is now. He just wanted love. He still longs for it.
He draws new cuts, this time with less pressure but they are still a lot. The tiles are already bathed in blood and Buck feels weak and groggy.
He just wants to be held. He wants to be cared about. He doesn’t want to be a burden to people.
Buck hiccups and draws even more cuts, not as deep anymore, just wanting to bleed the feelings out of his body.
"Buck?" A voice calls out from somewhere in the loft.
The young firefighter lays his head in the neck, on top of the bathtub's edge, closing his eyes and having an exhausted, almost soft, smile on his lips.
Screw Eddie for coming over.
Buck won’t fight him. And he knows Eddie wouldn't hate him. Eddie knows about his history with cutting. Buck had promised him that he would never do it again. Maybe Eddie will still care about him. Maybe he will still love him.
Buck stops his crying and lets the numbness that follows his outburst engulf him. He lets the blade fall to the ground and leans into the cold embrace the tiles provide.
There are steps outside the bathroom door before there is a knock.
"Buck, you in there?"
The question is stupid. Eddie must see the lights, so why is he asking? And Buck feels too dazed anyway to answer. His eyes are fixed on the blood leaving his body. It's warm and relaxing.
Then the door creaks as it opens -Buck still didn't oil it- before a big figure throws a shadow into the room.
There is a sharp intake of air and low cursing. Buck believes it to be Spanish.
In less than an second Eddie is in front of him, on his knees. The older man puts two fingers against Buck's neck and desperately tries to get the blond to look at him.
But Buck's gaze is still on his cuts. They feel good but now also embarrass the younger firefighter a little because someone else saw the damage he did to himself. Suddenly they are covered by a white towel.
"Come on, Buck. I need you to look at me."
Eddie's voice rang through Buck's head and the younger finally looks up. Empty eyes staring into worried ones.
"There we are."
His best friend attempts a smile before he grabs behind himself, searching for Buck's first aid kit.
Once he grabbed it, he comes back to Buck and pulls the, already soaked, towel away. There isn't much talking. Buck is still caught in the emptiness while the former paramedic tends to the cuts.
Eddie's hands are gentle and stable while he washes away the blood with a wet cloth before carefully sewing the biggest cut. The one which had Buck crying. Rationally, Eddie should let the hospital take care of that but on the other hand, Buck doesn’t need that. It would make the young man even more miserable.
Being done, he bandages the injured arm, securing the gauze with some medical tape.
After he finished that too and packed away the kit, Eddie just looks at his love.
Buck is still totally out of it. He is glad that Eddie came to save him but at the same time, he just wanted to die to end their suffering.
Eddie senses that his friend is in no shape of mind to have the much needed talk right now. Instead he just leans forward and into Buck's space before he hugs him and pulls him against his chest.
And Buck breaks again.
His hands clutch into Eddie's shirt and the man buries his head as far into the broad chest in front of him as possible. Then he wails. He cries his eyes out, his whole body shaking and his cries breaking.
And Eddie is there. He holds him. He catches him and keeps him safe in his arms, not letting go all too soon.
He never wants to let go again.