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It was the right thing to do…wasn’t it?
The same question had been circling around Buck’s head for a while now, ever since he hung up on the phone after telling Mackey that he had changed his mind, that he was going ahead with the suit against the LAFD, against Bobby. Part of him was so sure it was absolutely the right thing to do, but another part of him was full of doubt. But he was hurt, so hurt. Bobby had betrayed him, lied to him, didn’t…trust him? Whatever it was, it wasn’t fair to Buck, certainly.
Buck shook his head, not really wanting to go down that road again for the umpteenth time that night. He should be turning in early. Go to sleep so he can be fully awake tomorrow for the early morning arbitration, not sitting alone in his cold and uncomfortable apartment crawling down a self-deprecating hole. After all, what’s done is done; he’d filed the suit already and he’d cut off all contact with his team—the team, not his anymore, not at this moment.
He sighs, a little wetly, unbidden tears filling his eyes at that particular thought.
He sniffled lightly.
He missed everyone. He missed Hen’s warmth, Chimney’s jokes, Bobby’s steadiness, and he especially missed Eddie’s comfort. But he also desperately wanted his job back. Firefighting was the only thing he’d ever been good at. What was Buck if he wasn’t a firefighter? If he wasn’t out there helping people, saving people? And who would be there to watch Eddie’s back if not Buck? No. He needed to be back with the LAFD, with the 118, with Eddie. Fuck whatever Bobby thinks. Buck was ready; he was more than ready.
Holding onto that last shred of indignation and determination, Buck laid down in his bed to sleep.
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Despite Mackey’s encouragement, the arbitration was nothing short of a disaster. There was simply no other way to describe it. Buck had sat there across each subsequent member of the 118 as the lawyers brought out scenario after scenario after instance of when they had encountered physical or emotional trauma, but were allowed back to work with hardly any fuss. He had watched as each person’s face twisted in betrayal and a small part of him hoped—really really hoped—that maybe now they would understand what Buck himself had been feeling. Betrayed.
But there was no glee in Buck seeing his friends like this, in a cold and impersonal conference room inside a law firm. It was why he nearly ran to catch up to them at the elevator, explanation (and maybe an apology) already on the tip of his tongue.
He desperately wanted to tell them that it was all part of the lawsuit process. That Buck did not tell Mackey all of their problems and traumas to hurt them. That Buck was the one that was hurt and kept being hurt and he just wanted back the one bit of comfort he can, his job, because with his job came his people—them. No one seemed to want to listen and there was not much he could do but to stand there, shoulders slumped, watching as the elevator doors slid shut with an almost finality. He kept standing there until a hand landing on his shoulder startled him out of his stupor.
It was Mackey with a shark-like grin lighting up his face.
“That went great!” Mackey crowed.
His hand lifted and slapped down on Buck’s shoulder again, likely a little harder than intended. Buck winced. He wanted to reach up and rub at his shoulder but Mackey’s hand was still there, clamped down and already pulling him back towards his office. The lawyer was still talking loudly, ecstatic at whatever proceedings had occurred during the arbitration. The more he talked, the more weary Buck was becoming.
The feeling only intensified when Mackey pushed a sheet of small paper towards Buck. The only content on it was a string of numbers; an impressive string of numbers that had Buck blinking in surprise.
That was a lot of money.
But it was also not what Buck wanted.
So he looked up from the paper at Mackey, hoping the lawyer had some followup to tell him, only to find the man grinning at him with an almost maniacal vibe. When Buck said nothing, the other man just nodded at the paper still gripped in his hands.
“That’s the city’s offer. They want to settle.”
Hearing those words nearly made Buck’s knees buckle. He felt nauseous, dizzy, short of breath.
“This is all they’re offering?” Glad he sounded more put together than he was currently feeling.
God. Please say there was more.
Mackey mumbled something and snatched the little piece of paper back before shoving it at Buck again, saying more things Buck didn’t want to hear.
“I don’t want millions.” Buck stressed. “I—I just want my job back.”
He didn’t care about the money. He didn’t want the city to offer a settlement. He wanted the city, the LAFD, to offer him his job back. He—
He couldn’t be in this office, with Mackey, for a second longer. So he turned and walked about, the paper with the millions of dollars in settlement money written on it fluttering in down to the ground behind him. He ignored Mackey yelling his name, cursing at his supposed stupidity, and offering to get him even more money. Anything and everything except what he actually wanted: his job.
Buck was desperate now. The whole point of the lawsuit was that it seemed like the only way for him to get back to firefighting. Now, it was just another hindrance. And Buck wanted to cry in frustration.
He wanted…he wanted his family.
So he got in his car and drove. Drove until he found himself outside the small market that was only a few blocks away from the firestation, the one Bobby and the team frequented to fetch ingredients for their meals. The one that had a bright red fire truck parked not far from its doors. And before Buck knew what was happening, he was parking his car and walking into the store.
He spotted everyone right away but didn’t dare to get closer. It wasn’t until he spotted Eddie talking animatedly with Bosko that Buck’s hackles raised and he was making his way nearer and nearer to the team. By the time Hen and Chimney caught sight of him, it was too late to escape. Then everyone started gathering around him and so he stumbled through some lame excuse about buying cat laxative for a cat he does not have.
No surprise that no one believed him, but that didn’t matter. He seized the opportunity and stuttered out an apology only to be cut off by an enraged Eddie.
For second, Buck relished having all of Eddie’s attention back on him again even as the man in question stepped closer to him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Then he registered the words spewing out of Eddie’s mouth.
“You’re exhausting,” was like a bucket of cold water and Buck was stunned into silence, ice spreading down his spine.
Exhausting...Eddie thought he was exhausting?
It wasn’t the first time Buck had those words directed at him, but he never thought he’d ever hear them come out of Eddie, his best friend’s, mouth. And that cut like a thousand knives. Because Eddie was right, Buck was exhausting, he was too much, too annoying and dependent, and so so stupid to think there was anyone in the world that would care enough about him to want him no matter what. He shouldn’t have come. He should leave. He needed to leave.
Then something else Eddie said penetrated his brain.
Jail?
“Jail?” His light whisper is covered up by Eddie stumbling to save himself from his own accidental utterance.
Then the commotion outside the store effectively distracted everyone and soon enough Buck was left all alone again.
Shaking his head, Buck went back to the jeep and just drove. He didn’t want to go ho—to the apartment (because even though it’s his place, it wasn’t home…no, that was elsewhere with someone else—two someones). He didn’t want to go to the only other home he had, not wanting to face another confrontation. So he just drove around until the sun was starting to set. Then he kept driving, never leaving the city limits, but with no destination in mind until his own body took him to the one place he was most scared to face.
Eddie’s house.
Home.
No one was home, that much he could tell by the lack of lights and empty driveway.
That’s better anyway, because Buck needed a moment before he could face Eddie again. But first…a phone call.
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Buck didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until a sharp knock on his window woke him up. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes as he turned to face a very tired looking Eddie. Tired, but still very obviously annoyed.
“Why are you here, Buck?” He even sounded tired, his voice a little hoarse.
“I—”
“God. Just get inside.” Without another word, Eddie walked back to his house.
Buck only hesitated for a second, watching Eddie’s heavy steps, before scrambling out of his car and after him. He didn’t want Eddie changing his mind at the last second. He paused again at the door, but a sharp glance from Eddie had Buck shutting the door with a quiet snick and slinking into the living room. He wasn’t sure if he could sit or not so he just hovered, shifting on his feet, eyes trained on the blue velvety fabric of the couch.
“So?” Eddie prompted but didn’t elaborate further. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at Buck, his back turned so he was facing the wall; the wall that had a picture of Buck, Chris, and Eddie hanging on it from that one time they visited the beach together…before—
“I…I just wanted to apologize.” Buck started, paused, then pushed forward again. “Actually I don’t even know how I got here. Just started driving and then the next thing I know I was parked outside and well, it makes sense right? This place—your place—has always been more comfortable to me than my icebox of an apartment. And—I’m going off topic, sorry.”
He reached back to scratch at the back of his neck sheepishly.
Daring to look up, he sighed inaudibly. Eddie was still turned away, looking stiffer than ever. This was, again, not going the way Buck thought it would. He’s just making things worse. He should just go.
“Sorry,” Buck starts to back away. “I came here to explain things but I just suck at this. Suck at everything apparently. I only did the lawsuit thing because I just wanted my job back. It wasn’t fair that everyone else got to come back to work no matter what happened to them and I was told that I’d be a liability. Even after I passed all my certifications and had all the doctors’ approvals, Bobby still blocked me from coming back. It wasn’t fair. I just wanted to do the one thing I thought I was good at. But it’s okay, now. I called Mackey earlier and I told him to drop the suit; it was never about the money, I swear—they offered but I didn’t want it. Really. Just my job. Just you gu—”
Buck had started to ramble as he backed further and further out of Eddie’s living room, heading for the door. He was so caught up in his own head that he never noticed Eddie moving. He didn’t see the look of shock on Eddie’s face as he listened to Buck’s words and he didn’t hear the soft gasp the other man let out either. He did feel the hand that encircled his wrist, preventing from going any further.
“Eddie…” Buck breathed out. When he looked up, his heart skipped a beat at the look in Eddie’s eyes; it was a look he remembered getting from Eddie once upon a time, before everything went to shit. It was full of warmth and understanding, but also a hint of sadness.
“Buck,” Eddie’s voice was gentle, as if Buck was a wild animal he didn’t want to frighten. “What do you mean: Bobby blocked you? Buck?”
When Buck didn’t immediately answer, Eddie tugged at his wrist gently, pulling him over to the couch before pushing him to sit down and then following him.
“Buck. Evan.”
The use of his real name had him looking up. He’d always hated it and Maddie was the only one to really use it now, and even then it was rare. But hearing it come out of Eddie’s mouth…well it wasn’t so bad. Nevertheless, he also knew that for Eddie to use it, this was probably not a conversation he wants to have. He can’t leave though, not only because Eddie was still holding on to his wrist, but also he simply didn’t want to leave the place he felt the safest.
“Tell me.” Eddie urged.
So Buck did. He never could resist Eddie.
He told Eddie about what Mackey had said to him the first time, and what he had said in response. Then he told Eddie what had happened at that short dinner-that-never-really-was with Bobby and Athena right before he decided to file suit. He told Eddie everything his doctors had said and all about being given the okay to go back to work, that his clots weren’t due to overworking himself but rather a problem with the hardware in his leg, and that there were no regulations against doing field work while on blood thinners as long as there was also someone with the appropriate medical knowledge at the ready and liquid bandages nearby. He told Eddie everything and somewhere between Bobby’s irrational behavior and Buck explaining about his conditions for dropping the lawsuit, the hand Eddie had around his wrist had shifted so that they were not clasping hands, fingers entwined.
By the end, they both had tears in their eyes and had shifted closer so that they were pressed up against each other from their shoulders to their ankles.
Buck was feeling exhausted, as exhausted as Eddie looked.
And even though he didn’t want to, he really should let Eddie rest.
“I should go.” He didn’t dare speak louder than a whisper. His throat was scratchy from all the speaking.
He made to stand up only to be tugged back in place.
“Stay.”
So simple.
“But, Chris—”
“Is at Pepa’s for the night.”
Buck nods.
Then he was pulled up and shoved down the hall towards where Eddie’s bedroom was situated.
“Wh—”
“I’m dead on my feet and you’re looking no better. Sleeping on the couch will only make it worse. We can share my bed for the night.”
And who was Buck to argue with that logic?
So together they made their way to the bedroom, hand still linked between them, neither of them quite ready to let go yet. And even when they did have to to get under the covers, their hands were back together the second they possibly could.
“Sleep, Evan.”
Then there were lips against his brow, right on top of his birthmark.
Then darkness as Buck fell asleep, the most at ease he’s ever been since before a whole ladder truck dropped onto his leg and knocked his world upside down.