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Buck isn’t answering his phone.
It’s around 7 am in the morning— 7.45 am to be exact, and Eddie is outside of Buck’s loft sitting in his car as he stares at the phone screen while patiently waiting for the other man to show up, but Buck isn’t answering his phone.
The thing is, Buck’s Jeep has been out of service for a few days now and will be out for at least a couple of more days— the result of not paying attention to the pit on the road as Buck explained to him, and Eddie offered to pick him up for work until Buck hears from the mechanic, but right now, Eddie is starting to reconsider that offer because they are this close to getting late for the fourth time in a row.
“Come on, man.” Letting out a deep, loud sigh after he murmurs, Eddie’s gaze stays on Buck’s name on the screen for a few seconds as the line goes dead again, and he presses the button to lock his phone before placing it in his front pocket.
That’s it.
He’s gonna go upstairs and wake Buck up himself.
The elevator is on the base ground thanks to his luck when he gets into the building, as if it’s waiting for him so within a few seconds, the doors slide open with a ding, and Eddie is already making his way to Buck’s door.
He doesn’t even bother knocking but grabs the spare key from his jacket instead like it’s a second nature to him, and slides the metal in with a swift movement. Slowly twisting the lock, the door opens with a creaking sound, and Eddie lets himself inside with quick steps.
As he was expecting, the loft is surrounded by a peaceful quietness when it should be the sound of clattering coming from upstairs or Buck’s Spotify list banging through the speakers in the kitchen— or even a distant sound of the shower running; but there is only stillness and nothing more, and it feels weird how Eddie isn’t used to that.
“Room service!” Eddie beames with a playful tone as he quickly checks his watch and aims for the upper level. “Time to wake up.”
Going up the stairs two at a time, a fond smile twists up Eddie’s lips as the bedroom swims into his line of vision because right there with messy curls sticking out everywhere and face pressed to the pillow is Buck, lying half on his side and half on his stomach and buried under layers of blankets, sleeping soundly.
By the way his chest rises and falls slow and even, he seems totally knocked out despite the time, pale face slack and lips pouted, and Eddie has to swallow down the giggle building up his throat as he comes closer and sits on the edge of the bed next to the other man.
He places his hand on Buck’s bicep, and shakes lightly. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
When Buck doesn’t even stir, Eddie tries again.
“Buck, come on.” He says, tightening his hold. “We’re getting late.”
But still, Buck doesn’t move. He only mumbles a barely audible sound and keeps sleeping.
Okay, that's weird.
The beat of his heart starts to pick up its pace and hit against his ribcage erratically and the twist in his stomach makes the bile rise up his throat, but Eddie takes in a deep breath through his nose, clears his throat and swallows down the feeling because nothing’s wrong, why would it be wrong?
So he tries once again, harder this time.
“Buck.” Gripping Buck’s shoulder hard, Eddie shakes Buck enough to cause the mattress of the bed to creak.
And this time— thank fucking god, it works.
Slowly, Buck’s brows twitch and his eyes barely slit open halfway, revealing his unfocused, glassy blues.
He looks a little out of it.
It clenches Eddie’s heart to see how unguarded the other man looks.
“Hey.” Eddie’s voice is steady and gentle despite the worry eating his brain. “Long night?”
Buck sluggishly blinks his eyes once, twice as he stares blank before they slowly roll back and flutter close— it’s like he can’t even fight back, and his voice comes out slurred. “ ‘m so t’red.”
Eddie’s face falls in a frown. “Are you sick?”
He watches Buck as he waits for an answer but Buck doesn’t bother, so Eddie slips his hand under the collar of Buck’s hoodie below his neck, and rests it on the other man’s shoulder blade, feeling his bare skin.
It doesn’t come off as warm to the touch— okay, that’s a relief.
“You don’t have a fever.” Eddie tsk s, hand still on Buck’s skin. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
Buck was fine yesterday, he looked fine at least, but why does he look like he doesn’t even have the strength to lift a finger now ? It feels wrong.
After what feels like a century, Buck manages to speak in the weakest, lowest tone without opening his eyes. “ ‘m tired. L’t me sleep, pl’se.”
Fuck. “Okay, okay.” Letting out a distressed sigh, then rubbing a hand down his face. “Okay, go back to sleep. I’ll call Bobby.”
Not one thing makes sense to Eddie right now— but he’s past trying to understand what’s going on, especially when it seems like Buck needs him, and Eddie doesn’t let the questions and the concern get the best of him, not now at least; instead he takes out his phone, dials Bobby’s number, and holds his breath until Bobby picks up.
“Bobby.”
“Eddie, hi.” Bobby greets him. “What’s up?”
His eyes land on Buck’s sleeping form as another sigh escapes his lips, voice low. “I was actually calling about Buck. I don’t think he’s gonna make it to the station today.”
“What do you mean?” Bobby asks, slightly concerned. “Is he okay? Is he sick?”
“No?” Eddie’s face twists and the back of his hand rests against Buck’s cheek. “I don’t know? He doesn’t look sick.”
He does look paler, but not sick.
“He was still asleep when I got here, said he was feeling tired and went back to sleeping.” Eddie continues after falling into a short silence. “I think he needs some rest.”
He hears Bobby sigh on the other end of the line.
“Okay. But let me know if he needs something.”
“What?” Eddie’s brows gather in confusion.
“I know you don’t want to leave him alone—”
“But the shif—”
“I’ll find someone to cover you guys.” Bobby is quick to interrupt. “Don’t worry about it.”
It’s the way how Bobby carries no spite behind his words whatsoever, only genuine care, and it’s enough for Eddie to feel at ease just like that.
He ducks his head with a restrained smile and says: “Thanks, Bobby.”
“You’re welcome. I gotta go now.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know.”
With that, Eddie hangs up the phone, breathes out a deep huff of air, keeps the other man watch until the rumbling sound coming from his own stomach begs for his attention.
Not so much to Eddie’s surprise, Buck is still asleep by the time he eats some snack and goes back upstairs with a plate of sandwich and some crackers in hand.
Putting the tray on the nightstand, Eddie sits next to Buck and pulls down the covers just a little so he can rest his hand on the other man’s back.
As Eddie squeezes Buck’s shoulder blade gently, he keeps his voice gentle. “Time for breakfast.”
Buck keeps sleeping, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and Eddie’s insides fill with warmth at the sight all of a sudden; a funny feeling wraps him up from head to toe.
He can’t help the fond smile forming on his face— he doesn’t try to hide it anyways; Eddie slides his hand up to Buck’s face and buries his fingers into his messy curls, slowly combing them back from his forehead.
“Come on, sweetheart.” The endearment slips from his lips before Eddie can stop himself. “You gotta eat something.”
He plays with Buck’s hair for a while, brushes his curls and twirls his fingers around them, and his heart flips in his chest as he notices how Buck relaxes under the touch in his sleep without even knowing.
Eventually his breath hitches and his eyes slowly flutter open, confusion painting his face. “Wh’?”
“Are you hungry? I made you a sandwich.”
Buck’s lips twist down as he grimaces weakly, but Eddie continues before he can protest.
“Come on, Buck, just a few bites. You have to eat something.”
With the way Buck looks too disoriented and downright beaten, it’s for sure he will eventually get sick if he doesn’t eat or drink anything, that’s why Eddie wants to make sure Buck is alright in between the times he’s awake, which isn’t a lot to begin with.
His head still buried in the pillow, a low groan vibrates Buck’s throat as he clenches his eyes shut before opening them again. His baby blues still look glassy and not there, but at least they stay open this time. Although barely.
“M’hands don’t work.” Buck murmurs into the mattress. “And my legs.”
What the—
“What?” Eddie asks, brows wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“Numb.” Buck lets out a ragged breath, trying to force his eyes open. “Too t’red to move ‘em.”
Something in Eddie breaks in two just like that, a heaviness sits on his throat like barbed wires.
He stares at Buck for a second, eyes fond with sympathy for the other man, and slides his hand down to the nape of Buck’s neck, scratching those short strands. “I’ll help you out, okay? Just a few bites and you’ll rest again.”
Thankfully that seems to do it, because Buck briefly turns his gaze to him, tired and disoriented, closes his eyes as he lets out a long sigh, and murmurs: “Fine.”
Pushing the covers aside, Eddie tightly wraps his fingers around Buck’s arm. “Come on.”
He helps Buck sit up and Buck lets him; a weak groan rips his throat, and his body complies as Eddie maneuvers him to straighten up and lie back against the pillows that he fluffed up just now, face almost pressed to the hollow of Eddie’s throat.
Buck’s breath feels ticklish against his neck, and the way his pliant form feels grounding against his chest sends shivers down Eddie’s spine, but when Buck is situated, Eddie pulls away before doing something ridiculous such as wrapping his arms around the other man and never letting go.
“There you go.”
Buck drops his head and runs a shaky hand down his face. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Eddie places the trail on Buck’s blanket covered thighs, pointing at the sandwich with his eyes. “Here. Eat.”
Buck keeps staring down at the food, his expression dull and hesitant, until Eddie lightly taps the plastic plate with the tip of his nail and tilts his head to match Buck’s gaze.
“Come on, man, just try, okay? You don’t have to finish it.”
Buck swallows down what Eddie thinks is a tired sigh and with that, he loosely wraps his fingers around the sandwich, lifting it up.
It pains Eddie to see him like this because not only Buck looks tired as hell, he also looks weak and fragile ; trembles run through the man’s hand as he slowly brings himself to take a bite, and Eddie’s heart breaks in two as he sees Buck struggle, a weird feeling stings his chest.
His eyes stay fixated on Buck like a hawk, observes the other man as he forces himself to chew his food and tries to take another small bite from the bread but— god, Buck’s fingers shake like a fucking leaf; trembles run through his hand up to his arm so bad that the sandwhich shakes with him and Eddie can’t stand the sight any longer.
And when Buck finally lets out a low, frustrated sigh and drops his hand, Eddie gently wraps his fingers around Buck’s hand, feels the coolness beneath his own skin, and squeezes. “Let me.”
Buck’s tired eyes briefly meet his before he runs his gaze away, giving Eddie a hesitant, almost ashamed look.
“This is embarrassing.”
“Shut up, man.” With no malice behind his low voice, Eddie keeps his hand on Buck’s, grounding him, and steadies his shivers as the other man slowly goes in for another small bite.
It doesn’t take long for Buck to call it quits, he shakes his head and pulls his hand back under Eddie’s hold after a few more forced bites, face distraught.
“That’s enough.” Buck croaks out before letting out a quiet groan, jaw clenched.
Eddie’s brow arches as he asks hesitantly: “You sure?”
Buck opts for a timid nod instead of a verbal answer and lies back against the pillow with a sigh as he closes eyes, and Eddie has no other choice but to take the trail off of the other man’s thighs and place it on the nightstand next to them. “Alright.”
He manages to get Buck to drink a glass of water so he considers that as a win, but when Eddie turns to look at Buck, he finds Buck’s eyes already landed on him, staring with an expression as if he wants to ask Eddie something but is ashamed.
“What is it?” Eddie tilts his head, keeping his tone comforting.
It does something to him, the sight of Buck— seeing how fragile the other man can look; makes his chest feel tight.
Turning his gaze away for a bit, Buck clears his throat and licks his lips. “Can you— can you help me get up?”
That’s all Eddie needs to hear.
“Of course. Come on.”
He grabs the covers and pushes them aside, and Buck drapes his legs over the bed while straightening himself up, his feet gradually stepping on the hardwood; once he’s sitting down, Eddie shuffles closer to hook an arm around his waist, and Buck throws his arm around Eddie’s neck. His fingers clings onto the fabric of Eddie’s shirt like a lifeline, hard enough to hurt, but Eddie doesn’t say a word as they slowly stand up, and take the first step.
“Where are we going?” Eddie asks.
Buck lets out a sharp breath. “Bathroom.”
Eddie guides them towards the bathroom with another step forward, followed by another short one, but— fuck, he can feel, see how Buck’s legs tremble as he basically drags himself to walk; Eddie can see how Buck struggles to hold himself up, how his baby blues threaten to lose their focus, and it only gets worse when after another step, Buck’s knees almost buckle and his grasp on Eddie’s shoulder tightens, a barely therr whimper escaping his lips.
“Whoa, whoa, hey.” Worry swirling in his stomach, Eddie instinctively pulls Buck closer by the waist to steady him, and stops dead on his feet. “You okay?”
Buck closes his eyes, drops his head as he takes in a deep breath through his nose and even though he doesn’t waver any longer, he doesn’t let go of Eddie.
If anything, he grasps Eddie’s shoulder even harder.
“Buck?”
“Hm.” Buck hums, his eyes slowly fluttering open. “ ‘m ‘kay.”
Eddie’s brows furrow. “You don’t look okay. ”
To that, Buck swallows down a half groan and murmurs: “I won’t be if we stay standing longer.”
Eddie keeps staring at Buck, but doesn’t fight. “Fine. Jesus.”
Thankfully, they make it to the bathroom without any further problems such as Buck collapsing on the floor or some shit, and Eddie gives him privacy and waits Buck by the door while Buck handles his business; before Eddie can start making up death scenarios in his mind, the door opens with a soft click and Buck slowly steps out, hand on the wall to support himself, shoulders hunched and head down as he takes heavy breaths.
Without waiting, Eddie wraps his arm around Buck once again and takes almost all of his weight.
“Come on.” Eddie says. “Let's get you to bed.”
The road back passes painfully slow— Eddie’s pretty sure Buck is going to crash soon and just like he was expecting, by the time Eddie settles the other man in the bed and sits on the edge next to him, Buck looks downright exhausted, and even paler than before.
Buck presses himself deeper into the mattress and turns onto his side, and his baby blues roll back as his eyelids flutter close, but he clenches them shut only to force them back open.
It happens again, and once more, Buck tries to force his eyes open despite them desperately rolling back once again— and Eddie is only human, he can only watch to a certain point without doing anything.
His hand finds its way in Buck’s soft curls, and Eddie starts to run his fingers through them.
“Hey, don’t fight it.” Slowly petting his hair while keeping his voice soothing. “Just rest, alright?”
A mumble of words try to leave Buck’s pursed lips but nothing comes out, hazy eyes barely open but still not shut; the lines on his forehead slowly disappear as he sinks into the bed more and more, but the tension is still there, Eddie notices that.
Eddie keeps combing Buck’s hair, gently scratches his scalp while Buck tries to stay awake once again until he finally gives in and lets go, eyes rolling back and fully fluttering close, this time staying shut.
Eddie doesn’t leave his side even then, he pulls the covers up to his shoulders and watches Buck sleep, watches the way his chest rises and falls, and counts each steady breath of his.
It’s the only way Eddie knows that’ll soothe the concern inside him that was kicking strong from the second he made it to the loft, but now that Buck’s asleep, that he’s safe, Eddie finally allows every fiber in his being to loosen up and soaks in the sight, before finally deciding to get up and go downstairs to do some tidying.
This time when Buck wakes up, it’s to the feeling of slender, gentle fingers running through his hair, the smell of a lentil soup, and to a distant voice of someone awfully similar to Chris coming from downstairs.
World slowly swims into his line of vision as Buck sluggishly blinks once, twice and brings himself to wakefulness.
He remembers feeling like a train ran him over when he opened his eyes this morning and immediately going back to sleep— the rest is all in bits and pieces, but despite his brain feeling heavy, Buck would be stupid to not recognize that it’s Eddie’s fingers still buried in his hair, and knowing that alone manages to take away a good portion of the fatigue pulling him down, warming him from the inside.
That being said, even though he doesn’t feel tired as he did, his body still screams at him to lie still and do nothing for a while, his limbs numb and useless.
“Good morning.”
Buck lifts his eyes to see Eddie on the mattress next to him with a soft smile on his lips and a fond look in his eyes.
It takes a little too much from him to talk, but he tries anyway. Who cares if his voice comes out rough and worn down. “Hey.”
“Slept okay?”
Buck lets out a deep breath through his nose. “Kinda.”
Eddie keeps playing with his hair, and Buck doesn’t tell him to stop.
“How are you feeling now?” Eddie asks.
Buck answers rather hesitantly. “Better.” He closes his eyes. “Still feel like sleeping, though.”
He’s so tired.
“Then sleep.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, not at first, and keeps his eyes closed for a while, but doesn’t go back to sleep yet.
“After the lightning…” Buck starts, eyes now open but staring at the space before him. “Sometimes I— I have these days, like I have no strength left in me—” A shrug. “— I can’t even leave the bed.”
A second of silence passes before Buck hears Eddie’s voice.
“You’re still recovering. It’s okay to need some rest, Buck.”
Buck swallows down the acidic bile trying to rise up his throat. “I don’t know.”
“I do.”
“I spent my whole day in bed.” Buck protests weakly. “And I still want to sleep.”
He hates feeling like this— fucking hates feeling this weak, but it’s maybe one of those rare times in his life where his body and mind beat him to it, don’t let him fight back.
Eddie lets out a soft sigh, and the tip of his fingers caress over Buck’s brows. “Then sleep.”
The repetitive movement almost lulls Buck to sleep, the tinies of energy left in him slipping away, but Buck doesn’t let go easily this time round.
“Did you make soup?”
Eddie lets out a lighthearted snort at the question, and it’s the best thing Buck’s heard today.
“Chris helped.”
“When did he get here?” Buck’s brows wrinkle.
Eddie shrugs. “I asked Carla to drop him here after school.”
Oh.
“Okay.”
Eddie’s fingers scratch the nape of his neck, and Buck’s eyes flutter close halfway.
“Eds.” His voice slurred, seconds away from slipping.
Maybe he should get some rest.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t have to.”
Despite his eyes being closed, Buck can feel Eddie smiling.
“It’s okay.” Eddie says with a tone that caresses Buck’s soul. “I like taking care of you.”
Eddie’s hand never leaves his hair, and Buck feels like clouds everywhere, weightless but heavy at the same time; and this time when Eddie tells him to go to sleep, Buck does without fighting back.