Chapter Text
Eddie has a bad feeling about this specific day. He wakes up and his stomach churns violently, as if it was some sort of ominous premonition for the day. But then again, he does not believe in jinxes and curses and superstitions so he goes on normally about his routine.
He makes himself coffee, gets ready for work, and drives to the station, skillfully ignoring the painful pang of emotion that hits him when he reminds himself that he currently has no kid to take care of.
Buck has texted him four times before he even opened his eyes. It’s something his friend has been doing since Christopher left: checking on him in an almost obsessive way. But Eddie loves him for it so he texts back before even starting his truck.
Buck’s texts bring a smile to his face but that weird, wretched feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach remains.
He blames it on the full-blown anxiety attacks that have made a spectacular comeback ever since Chris left. It’s probably that. He’ll have a panic attack at work today. Yeah.
Nothing too serious. (In their line of work, of course. Eddie supposes that between a lightning strike almost killing his best friend and a panic attack, he’d choose a panic attack a thousand times over…)
And yet, he is so, so painfully wrong.
Or… right.
But he’s Eddie Diaz. He’ll never admit he’s had some sort of premonition.
Not if he is alive to have a say in it.
He is quite skeptical about the whole thing but he doesn’t have much time to think about it because barely thirty minutes after the beginning of the shift, the team is called to the scene of a car crash.
It wouldn’t be weird, it wouldn’t have Eddie questioning the existence of The Universe and such, if only said crash wasn’t just the tip of a gigantic, massive, catastrophic iceberg.
At first, they don’t understand why multiple houses could be needed on the scene of what seems to be a “normal” multiple-car crash. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, no car is in flames either, so nothing would apparently justify such apprehension from dispatch.
It’s an intersection in the middle of fucking nowhere. Which is weird because they are in Los Angeles, but a scarcely populated area is usually the best to work with so they are happy with it.
Eddie feels a light breeze grazing his face as soon as he gets off the engine, making the Californian summer infernal heat a bit more bearable. Still, he is confused and so are the other members of the team (but they don’t look nearly as unsettled as he feels).
Buck nudges his shoulder while they grab their gear. “You okay? You’re quiet…” He softly tells Eddie, looking around.
Eddie sighs, feeling stupid and brushing the whole thing off with a smile. “Yeah, must have slept weird or something…” he murmurs.
And so “Okay…” Buck nods, unconvinced, walking away.
Eddie is the last one to join the group. He sees three police cruisers show up from a distance and frowns, distractingly freezing, because something is clearly, absolutely wrong.
Things start to get clearer when the IC starts debriefing the whole squad, as soon as he finally shows up, with Bobby glaring at him. He mouths a sincere apology and starts listening in.
The IC — 139 captain — starts explaining the presumed dynamics of the crash but then he goes on a rant about how important it is for public safety that they manage to avoid any casualties, which means awkwardly explaining to a bunch of experienced firefighters how to do their job, basically.
At least until Buck, because it’s always him — Eddie fondly thinks — interjects.
“Who are these people? Are they… criminals?”
His voice significantly drops on the word criminals and Eddie would genuinely laugh if the whole situation didn’t make his skin crawl because there’s something so off-kilter about this whole debrief that is impossible to ignore.
The whole 118 looks at Buck and then back at the IC. Bobby protectively steps in front of his team. “We need to know if-”
Before he can finish that sentence, Athena shows up, with Detective Ransone in tow.
She addresses the IC first. “Thank you, Captain Williams, I’ll explain the situation.”
The man seems to deflate, probably relief runs through his veins as soon as he understands that it is no longer his responsibility to be in charge of anything other than directing the accident scene. “Thank you.”
“Athena,” Bobby and Buck simultaneously say, but she cuts them off.
“Lou, here, will tell you what you need to know while the 139 starts assessing the victims,” she tells them, referring to Ransone.
And Ransone does a great job of answering all of their questions.
“There’s a joint investigation going on with the FBI on a case of firearms trafficking and drug dealing. They have been trying to locate the suspects for three months now and apparently, they are in Los Angeles,” he says.
“And they are…” Bobby trails off while he generally points at the crashed cars with his chin.
“They located the phones of the brother of one of the leaders and we’ve been following them… it brought us here, we need them alive. We need to talk to the people in those cars.”
Everyone nods and listens with rapt attention. Eddie huffs. His grim premonition starts to make sense but he doesn’t want to think about it. Instead, he focuses on the job he has to do.
Bobby tells Hen and Chimney to help with one of the victims that has already been extracted while Buck and Eddie simply awkwardly stand there in case they are needed because apparently, three fire engines for a car crash are more than enough.
“So…” Buck says in Bobby’s vague direction, clearly bored.
“Don’t start, Buck,” the older man pleads, but with affection lacing his tone.
Eddie feels a smile tug at his lips unconsciously.
He knows that Buck is bored out of his mind and that he hates calls like this, where he has to wait and basically do nothing. Where he doesn’t feel useful, where he has to just stand there in case things go south. Truth be told, they’re probably the most exhausting ones, on a mental level. So he understands.
He makes sure he stays close to Buck, subtly watching him with the corner of his eye.
So he is absolutely not surprised when almost forty minutes later, he sees Buck taking off somewhere between two houses down the street.
He follows him out of pure instinct. He doesn’t even think about it. He doesn’t think about Bobby’s wrath, he just sees that Buck is leaving his side so that means one thing: he has to follow.
“Buck!” He calls when they are far enough that other first responders won’t hear them, loud enough that Buck will hear him.
The taller man turns around and stops dead in his tracks. “Eddie?” He asks, surprised.
“Where are you going?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.
Buck sheepishly scratches behind his neck, puts on his best boyish smile, and tries to come up with an excuse. “I- I saw a red car that matched the description of Athena’s file parking in front of that house…” he says, ducking his head because he sees a thousand different kinds of emotions flick over Eddie’s face.
But Eddie surprises him. Because he seems so calm and relaxed when he talks. He takes a step towards him, he looks at him ever so gently.“Buck, I need to ask you something,” he softly tells him.
So “Yeah?” Buck shyly replies, but then Eddie makes his point very clear.
“Have you completely lost your mind, for fuck’s sake? Did you hit your goddamn head or something this morning?” He asks, and for a moment Buck considers laughing in his best friend’s face because he starts imagining smoke coming out of Eddie’s ears and nose as if he were a little cartoonish steam train.
His cheekbones are red and he looks so mad that Buck feels like a seven-year-old boy scolded by his parents after he misbehaved on a school day.
He tilts his head and would fight back but deep down he knows that Eddie is right. “Sorry?” He tries.
Eddie huffs, “Buck.”
He even puts his hands on his hips. It’s his dad stance, according to Buck. And Buck doesn’t know whether he finds it hot or intimidating.
But now is not the time. So… “I mean, it could be a coincidence? It’s not like I know the plate or something-” he tries.
But Eddie rolls his eyes, looks around him, and then looks at Buck and knows that it’s a losing game. It’s a battle he won’t win. So he gives up.
“Okay, okay, let’s go. Just- if you get us killed, I’ll haunt you,” he mutters while they walk towards the red car that caught Buck’s attention.
Buck chuckles happily and for a second Eddie can pretend that they are on a beach somewhere, getting sunburned, just the two of them, maybe eating ice cream and he feels a kind tingling feeling between his heart and his throat and he doesn’t even know why. “I thought you didn’t believe in those things, Edmundo.”
Eddie slaps Buck’s chest and scoffs. What he doesn’t say is that he has had this ugly, nefarious feeling sitting at the base of his chest since he woke up. He smiles nonetheless. He always feels like he can’t do pretty much anything else when Buck is around, anyway.
“Shut up,” he adds. For good measure.
Buck somehow keeps talking and Eddie loves it. Eddie loves him but that’s a can of worms that he’s avoiding right now. Buck is his best friend, after all. Right? That must be it. “This is kinda crazy, right? Wait till we tell Chris about how we helped the FBI today-” he excitedly tells Eddie, talking a mile a minute, with his hands and a mischievous and boyish smile that tugs at Eddie’s heartstrings.
Eddie would love to reply telling him that they weren’t really doing anything except standing there. Especially the two of them who basically strolled away out of boredom. And he wouldn’t do it because he wants to disappoint Buck or dim the light in his eyes. Quite the opposite, actually. He loves their funny banter, their personal way of good-naturedly teasing each other.
But he doesn’t. He suddenly stops dead in his tracks, instead, and stays silent, instinctively grabbing Buck’s bicep so to keep him still as well.
“Wait,” he whispers.
Buck turns around and then looks at Eddie. “What?”
“I heard something, maybe that’s-” Eddie is saying, eyes on the house where the red car is parked, when a black cat appears out of nowhere.
Buck cackles. “It’s a cat, Eds, come on,” he says, going ahead and Eddie follows shaking his head and muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like “I swear to God…”
“Look, here…” Buck has Eddie come closer, to look inside the car, so they soon find themselves with their faces squished against the windows of the car.
Eddie still thinks that this is all pretty dangerous and ridiculous but Buck is here so here he will be. However, he won’t stop complaining. He huffs. “So, agent Buckley? Everything good?” He asks, clearly teasing his best friend who rolls his eyes and hits his shoulder feigning offense.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Eddie retorts, before walking towards the porch of the house.
Buck cheekily grins but then frowns. “Wait- where are you going?” He opens his arms, surrendering.
Eddie doesn’t even turn around when he explains. “You want to check, right?” He simply says, shrugging. And he doesn’t say anything else, he just follows his best friend.
“The door was unlocked, Buck. This is probably your worst idea ever…” Eddie tells him matter-of-factly, once they’re inside.
Their feet creak on the hardwood floor, making them wince. There’s a flight of stairs that looks like it’s about to fall apart and it generally looks like nobody is living here. There’s no actual sign of everyday life.
Buck looks at him and probably wonders, for the first time, why Eddie followed him, after all. “Hey, you can go back to the others, you know? There’s no real danger he-”
No real danger here, he wanted to say. (After all, it’s an empty house, isn’t it?) But he doesn’t say, because Eddie slaps a hand on his mouth, palm flat on his lips, and Buck will never admit that he has to fight his brain and his dick on this, on the idea that Eddie’s hand is on his mouth, on his lips.
Eddie’s lips then reach his ear, sending a tingling sensation down his spine that is downright inappropriate. “We’re not alone, shut up,” he hurriedly but gently whispers, carefully and slowly removing his hand from Buck’s mouth.
Buck doesn’t know if there’s even anything like military-trained ears but if there were, he is sure that Eddie’s ears would be the best, because he hasn’t heard a single thing since they entered this only apparently empty house.
Maybe he should get his ears checked?
“A door has creaked… and I think I heard footsteps…” Eddie worriedly explains, moving to place himself in front of him, in a protective stance that has Buck’s heart beating like a jackhammer.
So much for no real danger, it seems.
Buck is about to tell Eddie that they can leave, that maybe they can radio Bobby while they come back to the engine and he can have Athena check out this place, so Eddie won’t have to apparently feel like he has to protect Buck. (That’s a thought Buck doesn’t want to dwell on right now if he’s honest.)
And he is about to do so, to open his mouth, when someone starts coming down the stairs in their direction and he is armed and evidently dangerous so Buck can’t do anything else except grab Eddie — who is facing him and not the criminal — by his shoulder and drag him downstairs, because another man is following the armed one and Buck sees a door that probably leads to a basement and thinks that it’s their best shot at the moment. It’s their closest chance.
Eddie is smart enough to understand and to stay silent but they are still two tall, muscly men. They do not exactly go unnoticed, especially if they’re running and wearing their uniform boots.
So they manage to open the door to whatever basement is hidden under this creepy house but that doesn’t mean that the two criminals did not hear them or aren’t planning on finding out where the noise was coming from.
Eddie starts cursing under his breath as soon as their backs hit the door of the dark basement, breathing heavily, feeling an unwelcome jolt of adrenaline shoot through his veins, pushing him to react, to do something, anything.
“What’s this place?” Is somehow the first thing out of his mouth and obviously he doesn’t expect an answer from Buck but he doesn’t even expect him to be deafeningly silent.
He turns around and can’t properly catch his friend’s eyes because they are still pressed with their backs against the basement door and it’s dark and he can’t find a light switch if he fumbles with his right hand on the wall.
“Buck?” He tries again.
“I’m sorry…” Buck breathes out, defeated.
He sounds breathless like he’s run a marathon, and Eddie, for the briefest moment, fears that he may be having a panic attack. So he tries to keep an eye on any possible noise coming from behind the door and moves so that he is in front of Buck.
“Buck,” he says again, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”
Buck shakes his head. “Fuck, Eddie… this- this is my fault. We’re trapped here- because I-”
He starts spiraling, Eddie sees it as clear as day.
“No, Buck. Hey- no.”
Eddie hopes he sounds as resolute as he wants to. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?”
He puts his right hand on Buck’s left shoulder and presses on Buck’s pulse point. They’re both alive, they will be okay. He can’t think any differently.
Buck snorts even when Eddie squeezes, to get his point across. “Yeah, sure… in a basement with some psychopaths trying to kill us both. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your day, right?” He sarcastically blurts out.
Eddie’s brain starts swirling and he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t seem to know how to stop it.
He is suddenly thrown back to a hospital parking lot.
Hell yeah… you can have my back any day
Yeah. Or, you know, you could… you could have mine
Buck’s sparkling eyes pop up in his memories, completely out of his control, and it’s so completely uncalled for that Eddie tries to actually shake his head as if that image could slip off his brain, through his nose maybe.
“Buck,” he repeats, again, re-finding his focus. Shaking him because he knows Buck’s self-destructive tendencies. “Come on, man, let’s get out of here. You’ll get me a beer and we’ll forget about it,” he tries to joke, but Buck doesn’t stir, doesn’t laugh.
“Okay-” then Eddie mumbles, walking away. “I’ll find a light switch, be right back.”
Buck takes a deep breath and opens and closes his eyes once or twice before the light slightly blinds him for a moment.
“Hey-” Eddie walks back towards him and he finally can take a real breath for the first time in ages.
“Hey,” he mumbles back, slumping back against the wooden door.
The adrenaline that coursed through his veins merely minutes ago is vanishing and he is feeling defeated. Defeated and stupid.
“I swear I didn’t mean-” he starts to say. “I- I just wanted to check-”
He breathes heavily out and then goes to sit on the floor. “I don’t know…” he admits.
And Eddie doesn’t know what’s happening in his best friend’s head but he decides that whatever it is, it can wait till they go back to the station.
So he starts to grab his radio.
“Okay…” he whispers, to himself or to Buck he doesn’t know, and then is about to click on the radio button to talk to Bobby when someone yells, right outside the door.
“John, come here!” They both hear and Buck feels cold sweat running down his back.
He immediately shoots up, reaching Eddie and putting himself between Eddie and the door, if even uselessly, probably unconsciously.
“Fuck-” he mutters, again. Then he looks at the door lock and knows that whatever those men have would win a fight against that simple old, rusty padlock.
He also thinks that, no matter how bulky they are, you don’t bring a fist to a gunfight, or something along those lines. So… they have to find a way to escape.
He has to find a way to get them both out of here because it’s his fault and he won’t let anything happen to Eddie, even if it costs him his life.
And isn’t that a thought? Eddie would probably slap him if he shared it aloud.
Definitely.
Anyway—
“Eddie… we need to hide, like- now,” he says, voice hushed and labored.
There is really no way to escape, right now. So hiding it is.
But when he looks back, Eddie is gone.
“Eddie!” He whisper-shouts. “Where are you?”
This basement is even creepier than the whole house. There are wooden boxes everywhere, that makes sense for the whole firearm trafficking thing, he supposes. But he doesn’t have time to open them and investigate. He only wants to find Eddie who has apparently vanished into thin air.
The same Eddie who is barely three feet away from him.
How dramatic, Buckley, he reminds himself.
“Hey! You almost gave me a heart attack, man.”
“Look,” Eddie replies, shrugging his worry off, inviting him to have a look at what looks like a security door.
Buck takes a closer look, moving closer to Eddie until he distractedly feels the heat his body is emanating. “What’s this? Is it a… panic room?” He carefully wonders.
Eddie shrugs and tries to juggle the huge red handle but it doesn’t budge.
“Shit-” he mumbles under his breath, hitting it with his forehead, while footsteps approach the wooden door of the basement.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Buck joins him, pushing on the handle as if Eddie’s strength wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, the basement door bursts open and Buck feels blood drain from his face.
He runs to put himself in front of Eddie who tries to move him, in turn. “Buck, what are you doing?” He hisses, with both hands on Buck’s hips.
Eddie wants to move Buck because he put himself in front of him, and wants to see the two assailants. He wants to think, think, think. But his mind swims again. Brings him back to a weird moment.
You got a kid?
Christopher, he’s seven
And super adorable
I, uh- I love kids
God, what’s happening to him today? He silently promises to never doubt The Universe once again if it gives him a break.
Soon enough, though, the two men, John — the leader whose brother is presumably involved in the car crash — and his wingman, start shooting. (At the wooden boxes mostly, luckily.)
“Oh fuck,” they shout almost in unison. And before one of them can really think, Buck sees a red button on the left side of the security door and presses it.
That finally opens the door and they immediately rush to get inside, to hide from the rain of bullets that is about to pour on them, occasionally stopped by the ridiculous amount of boxes that are stored in this basement.
Eddie breathes a sigh of relief as soon as Buck is inside this weird room but it is short-lived because of course his weird, obnoxious feeling pooling in his gut ever since this morning was more than right, of course, the two of them can’t catch a break.
The fucking door does not close.
“Is it stuck?” Buck shrieks while Eddie tries to push it to close it, in the few seconds that separate them from coming face to face with the two criminals who have yet to locate them.
“Yeah, I don’t know-” Eddie grunts, trying to push and pull, sweating uselessly against such a heavy door.
They hear footsteps before other gunshots, which is reassuring, in a way.
“We are firefighters!” Buck shouts, gaining a glare from Eddie who’s still messing around with the door.
“Are you crazy?” He whispers but Buck shrugs. “Maybe they won’t kill us?”
“Get your radios over here,” one of the men orders, waving his gun in Eddie’s direction.
At least they stopped shooting.
Buck doesn’t budge so Eddie starts removing his radio strap. “Buck,” then he says through gritted teeth so Buck does the same, if even reluctantly.
One of the two criminals grabs the radios. “You know…” he starts saying, with a wicked gleam in his eyes that scares the shit out of Eddie. “You seem so nice… don’t they, Stephen?”
Okay, great. John and Stephen.
Stephen doesn’t look like he cares that much, he doesn’t even shrug.
“But you’ve seen too much, so… you’ll have to go, I guess.”
Eddie, who has been to war and has been dangerously close to death’s door more than once, doesn’t remember he has been this scared of something before.
And as today seems to be an endless string of a shitload of bizarre, illogical, and ridiculous thoughts, something else pops up in his mind, as if it was a goddamn kaleidoscope.
What’s going on, Buck?
I asked you here because there’s someone I want you to meet
You didn’t set me up, did you?
[…]
Carla is L.A. finest home healthcare aid…
He snaps out of yet another memory when he feels more than sees one of Buck’s hands and then his arm reaching in front of him. Then, barely a second later his vision is full of Buck and a screamed “Eddie, no!” probably pierces his eardrums.
Buck knows that fear and despair can give you more strength than what you would normally have. He has read an article about it. About people who lifted incredibly heavy things in emergency situations, fueled by adrenaline and pure fear. He thinks he has read statistics, however he does not remember the numbers. He just thinks that it is what must have happened when he managed to move the door.
Because it was impossible to move, it was heavy as if something obstructed it, but as soon as a gun is aimed at Eddie, as soon as he sees the guy’s finger dripping down to the trigger, he finds the strength necessary to close it.
He knocks Eddie out of the way with the sheer force of his body, pushing him into the wall at the back of this weird, hidden room, while he goes to close the door and two things happen at once — or probably three, if they want to consider the umpteenth memory that shows up in Eddie’s brain like an annoying pop-up window.
Eddie, your kid is in the safest place he can be
Just, it looks like these pop-up windows are multiplying and Eddie doesn’t know how to close them, they’re just tabs that keep on popping up.
You and Chris needed me and I had my head so far up my own behind with that stupid lawsuit…
But Eddie can’t freeze.
He can’t. Not when it’s Buck who is in danger with him. Not when John and Stephen start shooting at them again and he can already feel the pang that another bullet will inevitably bring with it, not when Buck throws himself in front of him.
One second he is sure he will be shot. Left shoulder, this time, he briefly thinks. The next, Buck is over him and then looking frantically at the floor as if it were fucking lava.
“Eddie, Eddie!” He keeps screaming, while the door closes on itself but he doesn’t move. He looks at his own feet as if they were glued on the spot.
Eddie reacts in a few seconds, but it’s still too late. It’s so dramatically late. “Oh my God, Buck, no, no, Buck, fuck- no,” he starts rambling, rushing next to him, after a last glance that confirms that the door is actually locked.
The men stop firing shots at the door. It would be useless anyway. So Eddie can finally focus on Buck.
“Buck!” He screams, gripping his best friend’s biceps.
“Don’t move me, Eddie,” Buck pants, looking at his boots.
“I’m standing on a bomb,” he shakily whisper-shouts, before directing his gaze to Eddie.
Eddie’s eyes shoot open, looking like they want to bulge out of his head. “W- what? Buck, you were shot!” He cries out, panic flowing through his veins.
“What? No, I-”
Before Buck can keep going, Eddie rips open his uniform short-sleeved shirt and finds that the T-shirt beneath it is totally soaked in blood.
“Oh-” Buck mumbles, feeling weirdly dizzy and sweaty and tired.
Eddie’s eyes fill with tears on their own accord. He would fall on his knees and cry, sob until he couldn’t breathe anymore, but he can’t leave The Universe to take care of Buck. That’s his job now. He can break down later.
“How do you feel?” He stupidly asks.
But he can’t help but ask. He has to know as much as he can.
“I- I don’t know- I hadn’t r- realized…” Buck stutters, before dropping his gaze to his boots once again.
Eddie takes Buck’s face in his hands and forces Buck to look at him. “Hey, just breathe, slowly…” he says.
“The bomb- Eddie, Ed-” Buck starts again.
Eddie shakes his head calmly, even if he feels the furthest thing from calm. “It’s okay, breathe now, then we’ll talk.”
Another goddamn pop-up window.
I should have been there
Eddie shakes his head, closes his eyes, and takes his own deep breath.
Why is he recalling his entire friendship with Buck? Why now? Why today? For God’s sake.
Buck gulps. Once, twice. The adrenaline starts crashing down. Eddie is not in immediate danger, he can partially relax. He can at least take a breath.
That means that the pain makes itself known. He breathes in, trying to maintain his composure. “When I closed the d- door-” he shudders and Eddie prays a God that he now hates that Buck is not going into shock.
“I- I heard a click a- and I- I saw this thing that was coming out from the floor, and I- I put my foot on it because-” Buck looks delirious and his agitated and trembling voice is doing nothing to soothe Eddie’s growing anxiety.
Subconsciously, he starts stroking Buck’s cheekbones. “It’s okay, you did good, Buck, it’s all good. Just don’t move, I’ll get us out of here, I promise,” then tells him, even if he doesn’t know how, even if he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
“I don’t know-” Buck breathes out, eyes cast downward.
Eddie leaves Buck’s face just to crouch down and check the situation. “It’s- it’s a pressure plate, yeah…”
“If I move, we die- great,” Buck sarcastically mutters.
The other man pretends to not hear him. Instead, he starts rummaging through his pockets. He extracts his phone. “Fuck, there’s no signal,” he says, panic rising in his stomach so much so that he wants to throw up.
“Okay, okay- uh- we gotta stop the bleeding,” he starts saying, reaching for every single part of Buck’s torso he can reach.
Buck realizes that Eddie immediately slips into his medic mode. It’s not his best friend Eddie anymore but it’s Eddie Diaz, former army medic and badass firefighter who is talking to him now.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asks. “Buck, hey!” He insists, when Buck has his gaze lost somewhere on the wall behind Eddie’s back.
“Yeah- no, I’m good, sorry.”
Eddie goes back to framing Buck’s face, and it is so not the time, he feels bile coming up in his throat but pushes it down, but another memory flashes before his eyes before he can speak.
I got you, I got you
Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me
“This is not your fault,” he sternly tells Buck, looking into his eyes.
Eddie’s eyes are glassy because his hands are blood-stained and that is Buck’s blood and Buck is pale and Buck’s eyes are scared, unfocused, glazed, and because these memories that keep popping up in his brain suddenly make sense.
But he pushes the thought down for later.
Best friend Eddie bleeds through the medic Eddie mask.
“It is,” Buck cries, letting a tear fall.
Eddie dries it with a thumb, then he leaves his friend’s face and starts unbuttoning his own shirt.
He’ll work on comforting Buck later. Now he has to try to save his life.
Buck’s hands are trembling, Eddie sees them when he kneels in front of him.
“Okay-” he whispers, to himself. But Buck hears him anyway.
Buck can’t believe that their lives are in his fucking hands, or actually in his leg. In his bad, damaged leg. Because obviously, his life is a joke.
“I’m so sorry,” he feels the need to blurt out — again? — but Eddie is so focused on his wound that it looks like he didn’t even hear it.
Buck feels Eddie lift his T-shirt, assessing the damage, but then he doesn’t feel much except shocking white hot pain. Then he sees Eddie removing his own belt and he thinks he knows where this is going.
“I’m sorry, Buck, this is gonna hurt, but I gotta keep you alive, just try not to move, okay?” Eddie apologetically says, before placing his balled-up shirt onto his wound and his belt around his middle.
Buck hasn’t even properly looked at himself to see where he has been shot until now, but now, he is feeling it.
He screams, he thinks the last time he screamed so much was the tsunami, or maybe when a firetruck fell on his leg.
And tears fall down his cheeks but he stays impossibly still.
He must keep Eddie safe.
Eddie tightens the belt around him as much as he can and as soon as he feels satisfied with this makeshift dressing, he stands back up, to have a look at his best friend.
“I’m sorry it hurts, but the bleeding should have stopped…” he tells Buck, before stepping into Buck’s personal space as carefully as possible and hugging him tightly.
Buck cries harder in Eddie’s arms but he still manages to keep himself upright. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he keeps repeating, while Eddie’s arm circles his shoulders.
“Stop apologizing, Buck. I decided to follow you, this was my choice. You are always my choice.”
Eddie breathes in and out and focuses on Buck’s smell. Thinks that it’s something so familiar, and his senses are so overwhelmed that another memory comes up without warning.
You don’t need to pretend with me
[…] Okay, what are you afraid of?
“How do you feel? Worse?” He checks, without dwelling on the fact that he is probably having a life-changing realization at the worst of times.
Buck shakes his head but he shivers.
“Are you cold?” Eddie asks, frowning.
“Y-Yeah, a bit…”
And Eddie almost freezes on the spot, because that is one huge alarm bell going off in his head. He needs to keep Buck as far as possible from hypovolemic shock.
He places two fingers on his pulse point, beneath his jaw, and it still has a decent rhythm, so Eddie doesn’t panic yet.
After all, he doesn’t think Buck has lost so much blood yet. So he prays it stays like that.
But who is he kidding? He is fully panicking. He wants to switch places with Buck. He would do it in a heartbeat.
He tries to hug him tighter, to give him as much body heat as possible, to support him as much as he can. He is a medic, he knows that Buck should be in a lying position, not standing and not putting pressure on a leg that already bothers him on a good day.
“Eddie, y-you- could you-” Buck starts.
“What, Buck?” Eddie squeezes him.
“You have to get out of here.”
Eddie huffs. He was too busy trying to save Buck’s ass otherwise he would have started counting the minutes until that argument. He knew Buck would say that.
He chuckles in Buck’s ear because he is annoyed but this is also funny. In a twisted, and probably depressing way.
“Do you think I didn’t notice you got shot to protect me, Buckley?” He retorts, trying to hide his impending breakdown behind a playful bickering voice.
Buck rolls his eyes even if his face is hidden between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. “So?” He asks.
“So we’ll talk about that once we got you in a hospital.”
“Eddie,” Buck tries again. “There’s no way I will get out of here.”
And Eddie’s blood freezes in his veins because Buck has no right to talk like that. Because Buck has no right to even think about abandoning him.
I’m worried about you
[…]
I’m here. What can I do?
What about that? Huh? What about having each other’s back? What about never leaving each other’s side—
Oh.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
He is in love with Buck.
Eddie has just found out he is in love with Buck and Buck is standing on a bomb while he bleeds out.
Oh, what the fuck.
“Fuck you if you think you’re leaving me again,” so he shouts, more loudly than he intended to. More violently.
He probably didn’t even intend to, he didn’t want to, but now all these feelings are bubbling to the surface and he can’t seem to put a stop to them.
Buck leans back, flinching. “What?”
Eddie takes a step back but still holds Buck’s hips steadily. “Sorry, sorry I-” he pants. “I’m scared.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled, sorry.” He adds.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay…” Buck mumbles. “But, your life literally depends on my fucking leg and-”
He opens his arms, gesturing at their surroundings theatrically. “I don’t know if you have noticed but I’m bleeding and what if I collapse? Huh? Also, what do you mean again? What are you talking about? And- and-”
Buck knows he is rambling and maybe even hyperventilating but he can’t stop and Eddie is looking at him as if he grew another head overnight.
“I- I can’t get you killed, I have to keep you safe, Eddie. So please, go.”
Eddie studies him for a bit. He waits for Buck to stop talking, and sees the fight slowly leaving his friend while he tilts his head.
“Buck,” he softly pleads. “I am not going anywhere, and I’m sorry if I- I-”
He hides his face in his hands for a moment. “I’m scared, okay? I- I can’t lose you, you-”
He can’t confess. Not now. Not like this. Not when he doesn’t know if Buck feels the same, not when they’re one step away from both their graves.
So he clamps his mouth shut. “Let’s just calm down. I’ll see if I can open the door, but just because you need help. Are you okay standing on your own?” He asks instead.
Buck grits his teeth and nods. “Yeah, I’m okay…”
His shoulders sag in defeat.
He knows Eddie won’t leave. He wouldn’t leave Eddie either, after all.
He closely follows Eddie’s movements and looks at him because he knows that these may be the last moments he gets to spend with him, with the man he loves. And it’s such a cruel feeling to live with, while he is already bleeding from a gunshot wound.
But anyway, Eddie is deadly focused on opening that security door. He is sweating. His T-shirt is completely damp on his back, to the point that Buck is sure it is uncomfortable as fuck. He keeps pulling and jostling the handle and it looks like The Universe — the one Eddie doesn’t believe in (oh if only Buck knew) — is mocking them.
So much fuss to get inside, so much trouble to go out…
Eddie keeps grunting and screaming, exerting himself so much that Buck will admit defeat on his behalf.
“Eddie…” he in fact murmurs, deflated.
“Eds…” he insists. “Come here, let go.”
Eddie hits the door with his head twice, before slumping against it. Then he hits it with a fist and suppresses a scream.
Buck sees the way his shoulders tense up and then relax when he takes a deep breath and feels a thousand times more guilty.
So much so that he almost forgets he has a hole in his abdomen.
“It won’t open, don’t hurt yourself, Eddie,” he adds, because he really doesn’t need Eddie to sprain his shoulder or something.
Eddie nods, slowly turns around, and faces him and Buck sees tears in his eyes.
“Come here,” Buck repeats, hoping that Eddie will listen, this time.
When Eddie finally comes closer, Buck sees the effort he is putting into not letting the tears fall and his heart breaks into a million pieces. So he does the only thing he thinks makes sense: he cups his friend’s cheek. And “You’ll get out of here, don’t worry,” he promises.
The look of bewilderment in Eddie’s eyes speaks on his behalf, but Eddie’s words soon reach Buck’s ears.
“Do you think I’m worried about me?” He asks, incredulously, snorting, devastation painting his features.
Buck’s mouth hangs open, he genuinely doesn’t know what to say, what to respond. “W- what-” he only slurs, furrowing his brows.
Eddie steps impossibly closer, still paying attention to the pressure plate under Buck’s foot, and tilts his head, feeling his lips about to quiver.
“Your pulse is about to drop, you’re shivering already, your skin is as pale as a sheet, and you have a fucking hole in your side, for fuck’s sake, Buck! Oh my God! What do I do now?”
And see, the thing about Eddie is that he doesn’t panic. It’s true. Sure, he has panic attacks, but he does not panic when the situation requires a clear head. Buck has never seen him panic on the job. Even when Eddie thought Buck had lost Christopher in the tsunami, what he saw on his friend’s face wasn’t panic, it was grief, raw and unbearable grief, not fear, not panic.
So now, if Eddie’s hands are trembling and his lips are quivering between Buck’s hands and his eyes don’t seem to be able to find focus, frantically moving around like goddamn billiard balls, full of unshed tears, Buck genuinely starts worrying.
“Eddie,” he tries to convey as much calm as possible by just repeating the other man’s name but Eddie shakes his head and steps back, pressing his palms to his face.
Because Eddie Diaz is top of his class at compartmentalizing, but, not when it’s Evan Buckley they’re talking about.
Another pop-up window.
This time there’s no talking involved. Just…
Buck making gingerbread houses with Christopher on their coffee table.
And Buck waiting with him for Christopher to slide down the pole at the station during his first visit.
And Buck’s trips to the zoo with Christopher.
And Buck making pancakes in the mornings after he was shot.
And Buck’s lasagna shared at his place with Christopher.
And Buck playing video games with Christopher, staying up late despite his protests.
And Buck’s Jeep passenger seat that feels always too much like home.
And Buck’s warm, tight hug after that well collapsed on him.
And Buck’s smile when he came out to him.
And Buck’s gentle reassurance after every single one of his therapy sessions back when he had his breakdown all these years ago.
And Buck’s facts during a boring shift.
And suddenly he is swallowing tears and it’s him framing Buck’s face and kissing his parted lips.
Eddie’s breath hitches, his chest constricts and his heart beats out of his ribcage while he realizes that he is kissing his best friend. He is kissing Buck. That’s pretty much a point of no return. But Buck’s life is in danger, and so is his and he is just a man who has just discovered his best friend is actually the love of his life, so that’s it. He swallows Buck’s surprised gasp and then strokes his cheekbones and shakes his head, slowing down, until their lips are just brushing and their noses are slightly touching.
Then, as if this was some sort of out-of-body experience, he tries to jolt back, putting distance between their bodies, eyes wide in shock.
A hand on his own mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so so-” he tries to say, but he doesn’t know that this is all Buck has ever wanted even before he knew he wanted it, so Buck yanks the front of Eddie’s T-shirt and brings him back, kissing him again, sweeping in between Eddie’s ribs like the best of his dreams.
Buck can’t move much, he must stay focused on his leg, on his foot pressed on the bomb, but still he can’t help but smile into his friend’s mouth when he realizes what is happening.
“Are you okay?” Eddie breathes in his mouth as soon as their kisses slow down, and Buck grins, as if they were living the best day of their lives.
“Am I okay?” Buck practically squeaks, making Eddie laugh for a second. “Are you okay? I am perfect!” Buck cheekily says.
Eddie would slap his shoulder, if even playfully, but he doesn’t want to risk jostling him, so he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes fondly. And “God, I just- sorry, I- uh-” says, blushing violently.
Buck thinks he is adorable. “Hey, it’s okay, I- uh-” he fumbles.
He doesn’t know if his confusion is Eddie-induced or gunshot wound-induced, either way, he finds it difficult to concentrate.
“I love you?” He tells Eddie, giggling hysterically.
Eddie is pretty sure he is the one about to collapse now but he ignores his own galloping pulse and his tingly stomach and takes just one step back, before he notices that Buck is blushing.
A tinge of red is up on Buck’s cheeks and Eddie thinks that it’s so absurd to find him devastatingly cute, but that’s his life now, apparently.
“Really?” He stupidly whispers, tilting his head.
Buck shyly nods and minutely shrugs but then he looks like something else has caught his attention. “Could you just- uh-” he looks like he’s trying to find words. “Can you come a bit closer? So I can lean on you for a second?”
A thousand alarm bells go off in Eddie’s brain. He immediately steps closer, putting one foot between Buck’s, paying close attention to the pressure plate and the other one the outside of Buck’s right foot. Then he squeezes Buck’s hips tighter and moves one hand in Buck’s hair to help Buck rest his head on his shoulder.
He hides his nose in Buck’s hair and inhales the characteristic scent of his shampoo, praying to whoever is willing to listen to him that he will have the rest of his life to do just this, to sink in Buck’s curls, to bask in his smell.
“It’s gonna be okay…” he murmurs, even if he is scared shitless of losing Buck.
He breathes Buck’s perfume for a little while longer, fighting the urge to sway a little. “Tell me something?” He begs the other man.
Buck shudders, grips Eddie’s T-shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him from going down, and takes a deep breath. “Uh?”
“I like listening to your voice,” Eddie supplies, placing a kiss on Buck’s head.
The other man chuckles wetly and squeezes Eddie a little tighter. He knows what Eddie is doing, “I miss Chris…” he says nonetheless and then immediately, mentally smacks himself because out of all the things he could have told Eddie, he probably chose the worst one.
But Eddie nods, silently, stroking his shoulders, so he doesn’t think he fucked up too bad. Then “We’re going to FaceTime him, once we get out of here,” Eddie says, decisively.
And that seems to shake Buck out of whatever trance he had fallen into, gently pressed into Eddie’s warm, inviting embrace. It’s like he suddenly remembers that he has a fight to win, in order to get out of this, so he leans back, looks at Eddie square in the eyes, and sighs.
“How do we get out of here, Eds?” He asks in a murmur.
Eddie’s heart breaks in approximately thirty thousand pieces, for Buck’s broken voice and his pained expression.
He puts two fingers on Buck’s neck, on his pulse point. “How do you feel? You look worse…” he uselessly says, unable to stop his sickening worry.
“I’m still standing…” Buck merely replies.
Then he realizes that he could probably use some support.
“But…” he starts at the same time as Eddie resolutely states that he is going to get them out of that situation.
“I’ll break that window, someone will notice, can you stand on your own for a minute?”
Eddie doesn’t hear him so he pushes on, through the pain, and nods.
Then, Buck’s eyes almost fall out of his skull, because Eddie starts rummaging through a weird cabinet and gets a goddamn rifle out of it.
“Uh- Eddie, what?” He blurts out.
Maybe it’s the blood loss, maybe he is hallucinating.
“What the hell is that?” He adds.
Eddie turns around to assess his situation. “I’m shooting the window so someone will hear and come get us, cover your ears,” he calmly explains, while Buck thinks he is dead and this is some kind of weird post-mortem dream.
“What?” He shrieks, unable to form a coherent sentence, apparently.
“Cover your ears,” Eddie simply repeats, before checking the rifle for ammunition.
That seems to snap Buck out of it. “Hey- hey no, no, no, no, Eddie, stop! What if the bullet ricochets off the glass? Stop, now.”
Buck’s rambling is cut off by Eddie turning back to him. “We have no other choice, don’t worry about me,” Eddie calmly tells him.
And Buck sees red. He can’t move, can’t go and shake Eddie by his shoulders because of the fucking pressure plate, so he has to pray that Eddie will just listen to him.
“Eddie,” he tries again, but Eddie shakes his head.
“Fuck!” Buck screams. “Diaz! For God’s sake, stop.”
That gets Eddie to stop and drop the rifle, as weird as it may sound. Buck has never thought that it would be Diaz to get Eddie to listen to him but he is glad it worked.
People ever call you Diaz?
Not if they want me to respond
“Buck-” Eddie’s shoulders sag. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the thirty minutes they’ve been in this room.
“It’s a good plan. I can’t reach the window, it’s too far, so I’ll shoot at it and someone will come to see what’s happening, easy.”
Buck huffs. “Easy?” He looks bewildered in the face of how much Eddie is willing to risk for him.
Then he remembers that kiss, their first kiss. And he doesn’t want it to be their last.
“Can you come here?” He adds.
“No, you’ll try to convince me not to shoot,” Eddie sighs in defeat.
Sometimes he forgets that they know each other better than they know themselves.
“I don’t care about getting out of here if I have to do it alone, Eddie,” then he says. Because he doesn’t know what to do so he just tells the truth.
“I don’t care about life if- if-”
Maybe that’s too much for someone who kissed for the first time ten minutes ago but… it’s them. They haven’t been just friends in… probably ever.
“If it doesn’t have you in it.”
And that about breaks Eddie, who steps closer, rifle falling on the floor, eyes bloodshot. “And why do you think I’m doing this?” He yells.
“I love you, and I didn’t even know. I have loved you for ages and I didn’t even know because I am fucking stupid and I can’t lose you and I-” he takes a breath that still doesn’t feel fulfilling. “I have already lost everything, I can’t lose you, I- I love you so I am shooting that window, I don’t care about me.”
That definitely knocks the air out of Buck’s lungs. Nobody has ever loved him so much. Nobody has ever valued his life worthier than theirs. His life. Evan Buckley, conceived for spare parts, never truly wanted, is now looking at a man who is literally risking a bullet because he thinks that his life is more important than anything else in the world.
Because as soon as Eddie finishes his little speech, he immediately goes back to get the rifle, so now Buck is looking at him, praying that everything will be alright, that the window glass is thin, and that the bullet will stay as far away as possible from Eddie.
He is a coward maybe, because he doesn’t cover his ears but he closes his eyes.
And he only opens them once the shot has been fired.
And it works.
It has fucking worked and Buck is going to marry this man.
“Oh God,” he breathes out in relief, laughing hysterically at Eddie who is now looking at him with tears in his eyes and the biggest smile on his face.
“Oh God, come here, come here-” he starts repeating like a maniac but Eddie is already running towards him, ready to scoop him up in his arms as much as he can without jostling him.
He buries his face in Buck’s neck while he hugs him so tight that it actually hurts Buck’s wound, “I love you so much, it’s gonna be okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he keeps repeating and Buck thinks it’s more for his own benefit than Buck’s.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” so he agrees, even if he feels the furthest thing from okay.
In fact, he feels worse and worse as the minutes go by, but he doesn’t say.
Eddie feels his labored breathing though, so he steps back and places his hands around Buck’s neck.
“Hey- hey, just a little bit longer, somebody will come get us, please-” he pleads, shaking Buck’s head.
He then takes Buck’s hand in his and squeezes. It’s painfully cold. Eddie doesn’t like it one bit.
“Buck, tell me the truth, how do you feel?” He asks.
Buck closes his eyes once, then opens them with difficulty. “I- I’m okay, just- just don’t go, let me-” he stutters, squeezing Eddie’s biceps, gripping him to gain some stability.
Eddie leaves his hand to hug him on his hips.
“Yeah, yeah of course, I’m here, lean on me, I’m not leaving,” he vows, solemnly.
He kisses Buck’s forehead softly, “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he lets slip.
And Buck faintly smiles, face paler than before. “I like that…” he slurs, sleepily.
Eddie loves him so much it hurts. And it’s shocking that he has only realized today, of all days.
And he wants to tell him again, he is about to tell him again when someone appears at the broken window.
It’s Ravi.
Eddie could kiss the man on the fucking mouth. Or, well, no, but he has never been happier to see him.
“Guys! Is it you? Oh my God! We were looking for you,” Ravi gasps, before sneaking his head into the small window.
“Hey Ravi,” Eddie shouts. “We need a little help here,” he cheekily says.
Ravi mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “I swear it’s always the two of you,” before Eddie can brief him about the whole thing, seeing a thousand kinds of emotions pass on the boy’s face.
“Hey, Ravi-” Buck mutters at some point.
“Hey Buck, we’re getting you out, don’t worry,” Ravi tries to sound reassuring but he really sounds more scared than the two of them combined.
Bobby comes at the window shortly after, Ravi having radioed them all.
“H- hey guys. Buck, how you holding up?” He yells.
“Peachy, cap,” Buck sarcastically says, as loud as he can, gripping Eddie tighter.
“Come on, baby,” Eddie whispers into his ear, squeezing his hips, making him smile.
Bobby interrupts their moment. “The bomb squad is on the way, Buck hang on,” he tells them in his captain voice, even if Eddie can tell that the man is absolutely terrified.
Eddie nods. “You hear that?” He tells Buck, before kissing his head again and again.
But Buck just hums. So “Talk to me, Buck,” Eddie insists, nudging him with the shoulder he is leaning on. But Buck keeps staying silent.
“Buck, come on baby, tell me something about those clouds,” so Eddie begs, because clouds are Buck’s latest hyperfixation.
“Sorry Eds, I’m tired…”
Buck thinks about giving up, but then he remembers that if he gives up, they’re both dead. If he falls, the bomb goes off and Eddie dies. That means: he can’t go down, he can’t give up.
He may die today, but he will make sure Eddie will get home safe. He doesn’t care.
“No, no, no, no, Buck, come on,” Eddie panics, so Buck lifts his head and looks at Eddie through hooded, glazed eyes.
Eddie gently slaps him, until Buck looks more focused. “Hey, stay with me, okay?”
He feels his pulse again. It doesn’t seem too weak yet but Eddie has lost his mind a long time ago.
He buries his mouth in Buck’s curls. Then leans back and brushes them away from Buck’s forehead in a tender gesture that makes Buck’s insides turn to goo. “Tell me about your new coffee maker,” he brokenly chuckles.
Buck coughs and slumps more into him, but still keeps his weight on the plate.
“It’s a Hildy, Eddie,” he slurs, affronted.
Eddie laughs, even if it sounds more like a sob.
God, he’s going to marry this man.
Wow. His brain is really working in overdrive today. So many revelations, so little time.
“I know,” he retorts. “So tell me about it, come on,” he encourages him.
The lopsided smile Eddie gets from Buck is the best sight he has ever laid eyes on. “I’ll put it in your kitchen,” he says, threateningly.
And Eddie chuckles, “I already have one, baby, remember?”
“You’ll get another one,” Buck pouts. “Two Hildys one Eddie,” he slurs against Eddie’s neck.
“Okay, I can fight them,” Eddie retorts, checking Buck’s pulse again.
Then, fear starts running through his veins, making him shiver, because he feels something damp around his stomach and he knows what it is without having to look, but he lowers his head to check nonetheless.
“You’re bleeding again, fuck-” he mutters, putting some space between him and Buck but never leaving him.
Buck snorts. “I don’t feel that peachy anymore, actually…” he weakly admits, leaning more into his friend’s — boyfriend? — touch.
“Cap?” Eddie yells, looking at the window.
“The bomb squad is here, Eddie,” Bobby informs him.
“Buck is bleeding again, tell them to hurry the fuck up,” he decisively states.
“They’re having trouble with the security door,” Bobby explains and Eddie has to take a deep breath.
His lips are religiously pressed against Buck’s temple. There’s not much he can do at this point. “Hang on, Buck, just a little bit more,” he whispers.
The fucking bomb squad takes ten more minutes to get to them, and Eddie thinks his lungs grow two sizes bigger when he comes face to face with their boss, finally explaining the situation.
However, he starts to hate him when he tells Eddie to leave.
Apparently, it’s a rule or something. Honestly, Eddie doesn’t care.
“If you are not unable to move, you have to leave, sir,” the man explains.
All Eddie has to say about it is pretty much “I’m not leaving until I can leave with him, so stop talking and do your job,” and that is it.
“Captain Nash,” the man tries to get Bobby’s attention, through the window, but before Bobby can even get into the conversation, Eddie interjects.
“Do you think I care about a formal reprimand? I don’t give a fuck about the job as long as you do yours and get him out of here,” he snarls at the man, pointing at Buck with his chin.
The bomb squad starts working because they understand that it’s a useless fight that would drag on forever.
These two firefighters apparently are a package deal.
“How long do you need?” Eddie asks to the annoyed boss.
“Seriously?”
Eddie doesn’t waver. “How long? He’s bleeding.”
“I know he’s bleeding, we need twenty minutes at best,” the man snaps, parroting Eddie.
They are both far from professionalism but Eddie couldn’t care less.
“He doesn’t have twenty minutes!” Eddie angrily says.
The man sighs, looking at his squad and wondering why they had to be the ones to be called on this scene today.
Fortunately, Buck interrupts their bickering.
“He is here, you know? And still alive, Eds…” he murmurs, leaning back to look at Eddie.
Eddie would love to move a hand to cup his cheek but he has both of them on his hips, to help him stay upright. So he does the next best thing: he puts his cheek on Buck’s, rubbing slightly.
“It’s gonna be okay, I promise, just stay with me please,” he begs, to Buck’s ear.
But Buck’s skin is clammy and he is not so responsive and Eddie has to fight too hard to not panic.
“Cap,” he yells, facing the window.
“Can you get me a bag of saline? His pulse is dropping, I don’t like it,” he frantically shouts, getting a set of raised eyebrows from the bomb squad captain.
“Nobody is coming here, don’t even think about it, man,” he firmly tells Eddie.
And Eddie thinks he would gladly have a talk with this man but he does not have the time nor the energy to feel even the slightest anger right now, so he simply ignores him and grips Buck tighter.
“Can you drop everything here? I’ll-” he starts saying before another one of the bomb squad guys interrupts him.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“I’m a medic, fuck’s sake,” he calmly explains, trying to breathe as slowly as he can, but then Buck closes his eyes and he starts shouting. “Somebody give me a bag of saline now!”
He helps Buck slump on him. “Lean on me, don’t worry,” he says, moving one hand so that he can feel his pulse.
Then, forty seconds later — he is counting — there is saline in his hands and he is ready.
“Okay,” he pants, letting go of Buck just to catch his hand. “Can you hold this?” He asks the other man with pleading eyes, handing him the fluid bag.
Buck nods. “Okay,” Eddie repeats, like a mantra. And his fingers are shaking so much that he doesn’t remember the last time he had so much trouble starting an IV, but he manages to do his job.
“Sorry,” he winces when he sees the needle disappear in Buck’s hand, as if this was Buck’s major trouble right now.
But Buck only smiles at him.
Eddie then takes the bag in his hand and cups Buck’s cheek with the other one. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, just a couple more minutes,” he solemnly says.
Then he pulls Buck towards him again, holding most of his weight. He is so scared that he genuinely can’t think straight so he supposes they can’t hold it against him if he starts whispering sweet nothings into Buck’s ear.
“How long do you still need?” He huffs, between a hushed I love you and a stay with me please and talk to me, baby.
And when finally, fucking finally, they are done and the bomb is diffused and Buck can let go, can really take the weight off his leg, he starts shaking.
“All clear,” one of the men from the bomb squad loudly announces, and Eddie can’t believe it. He immediately grips Buck tighter because he feels that he is about to fall and he feels a fresh bout of tears attack his eyes.
“It’s okay, Buck, you’re okay, we’re getting out of here, you did so good,” he frantically rambles while dragging Buck towards the wall, helping him sit.
Buck still shakes, and his leg gives up. If Eddie hadn’t held his weight, he’d have fallen right away.
Soon, Eddie’s hands are all over him, over his torso, ripping his T-shirt, and all over his face, his cheeks, and he wants to stay awake, to stay present. He doesn’t want to close his eyes but he feels like being pulled under by a peaceful sleep.
Eddie slaps him and the next time he opens his eyes, he sees Chimney crouched down in front of him.
“Buck, Buck, baby please-” he thinks that Eddie is saying, while looking at him with panicked eyes.
Chimney is working on him, and looks as worried as Eddie to be fair, and he doesn’t want them to be worried.
But he remembers that he doesn’t have to worry about the bomb anymore, that he can relax now that Eddie is safe.
“Are you-” he wheezes, looking at Eddie through absent eyes. “Safe?”
Eddie’s heart breaks. “Yeah, Buck, I am okay, but you have to stay awake- please, let me see your eyes, come on-”
He is borderline delirious, he knows. He also knows that he should help, help Chimney and Hen put Buck on the gurney, but all he does is clutch Buck’s hand till his fingers are white.
And he keeps squeezing Buck’s hand till they are in front of the ambulance.
Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all look at him and he doesn’t even let them talk before saying: “I’m not leaving him.”
They know that Buck needs a hospital as soon as possible and that Eddie won’t let them change his mind so they simply let him hop in the back of the ambulance.
“His pulse- what-” Eddie tells Hen when they are five minutes away from the nearest hospital and he’s been gripping Buck’s hand like a lifeline.
“It’s okay,” Hen tries to sound reassuring, checking and re-checking Buck’s vitals. “He’s gonna be fine, Eddie… he just lost a lot of blood.”
Eddie doesn’t look so convinced. “Buck- Evan, open those eyes, please,” he brokenly pleads, brushing some sweaty curls away from his forehead.
“Baby, please,” he sobs, putting his head on Buck’s shoulder, while Hen pretends to not hear him.
He is acting on autopilot. He is only focused on Buck and on the fact that he might lose him, and on their kiss, on their first kiss that he doesn’t want to be their last as well. He wants forever with Buck and Buck is lying painfully still in front of him.
He doesn’t realize they reach the hospital and doesn’t realize he keeps holding on to Buck until two nurses tell him that he has to let Buck go.
He remembers the lightning strike. He was terrified, he remembers how long was Buck dead down till the last second, and yet he doesn’t think he has ever been this scared.
The problem is that he has never been aware of his feelings for the man.
But Buck does really have to go, so he can only lean down, kiss his sweaty hair, and let him go with the doctors, praying to whoever will listen to not take him away now that he really has him.
The last time Eddie cried in one of his sister’s arms was probably about twenty years ago. He doesn’t exactly remember. He doesn’t even remember what happened but he vividly remembers the warmth he could soak up from his sister’s body, from her embrace. It was something that his mother had stopped providing. Warmth, security, love.
Because small, ten-year-old, helpless Edmundo had to step up and be the man of the house. He couldn’t afford emotions. He had to suck it up.
Now, more than twenty years later, Eddie is crying in Maddie’s arms and he feels like the biggest asshole in the goddamn universe. Because it’s her brother who is in an operating room, it’s her brother who is risking his life, and it’s her who probably needs comfort the most, but he is totally exhausted, like he would curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry for the rest of his life if given a chance exhausted.
So he soaks up the warmth. That Buckley warmth that Los Angeles has given him long before he was even aware of it.
Until he feels his eyes are starting to close on their own accord, so he tries to escape Maddie’s hug, how many hours later he does not know.
“I’m sorry, Maddie, I-” he hoarsely blurts out, mindlessly drying his eyes with two fists.
It would almost be a cute sight if he wasn’t a thirty-something-year-old man, Maddie thinks.
She pats him on the back. “What are you sorry for?” She asks, sincere.
They are the only ones left in the waiting room, and Eddie is still wearing his uniform pants and boots and he feels like he is sinking in a beige, loose-fitting T-shirt that Ravi brought him sometime between the first and the second hours of waiting.
“Y- you should, I- I should be-” he tries to say.
You can do it. Stop crying. He tells himself.
He can’t do it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, Maddie-” he starts saying, leaning back on Maddie’s shoulder, still feeling like the biggest disappointment of the planet.
Distractedly, he thinks his parents would never let Chris come back to him if they saw him now.
Anyway…
“What? Eddie?” Maddie gently prods him.
She even takes his hand, and he should probably feel weird about that, but there’s something about this moment that only screams comfort, love.
“I didn’t know I loved him, but I’ve always loved him. Who does that? I’m so-” he bites back a sob and she smiles softly, shaking her head.
She is smiling and honestly Eddie feels like this is all a big joke he is not in on.
“What?” So he asks.
“He never really told me, but I know him, you know? And when he first came out to me, all he was worried about was that he had lied to you, Eddie. Who does that?”
She parrots him and he laughs wetly, so grateful for her.
“He was not worried because the first guy he went on a date with had left him on the side of the road,” she stops, considers her next words and conspiratorially adds “which, honestly, I hated Tommy for that…” making Eddie really laugh.
“Anyway… he wasn’t worried about that, all he cared about was you. So I knew, you know. I knew it was you all along. Even before he broke up with Tommy and started pining on my couch drinking wine and using my daughter as a distraction.”
She ends up laughing with him and Eddie honestly doesn’t know what he did to deserve her. He doesn’t know which Gods have chosen him to be the subject of the Buckley siblings’ affection but he is so painfully grateful he could scream it from the hospital rooftop.
So “Thank you, Maddie…” he says, looking at her earnestly, without even flinching when she takes his hand again.
“You don’t have to thank me, you’ve always loved Evan, I like you, it’s that simple,” she cheekily retorts.
And Eddie sighs, slumps down into the chair and “yeah, I love Evan,” murmurs, like he’s tasting the words on his tongue.
Evan, caring, lovely Evan who takes his sweet time to wake up.
Eddie honestly thinks he will end up in the bed next to his with a heart attack caused by the amount of caffeine he is ingesting.
Maddie has gone home to Jee as soon as the doctors came out and told them that Buck was out of surgery and that he would make a full recovery, so he has been alone in this hospital for what feels like literal ages.
He is sitting at Buck’s bedside sipping his coffee, while it’s dark outside and way past the time he would usually have his call with Christopher. (He has already texted his mom to tell her that he won’t be able to talk to them tonight, lying about a call that took too long. He’ll tell Christopher everything about Buck when Buck is awake.)
He looks at Buck’s sleeping figure while he fidgets with his half-empty coffee cup and feels like the luckiest man alive, even if his life has literally fallen apart at his feet just some weeks ago.
He can’t believe that a man like Buck can love a disaster like him.
But he will die making sure that Buck never regrets his decision, if they end up together.
That’s exactly what he is thinking about — their life together — when Buck starts to stir.
Eddie’s gaze has been so fixed on him ever since he entered the room that he calls for the nurses as soon as he notices even the slightest change in Buck’s breathing.
And he has been here so many times to know the drill, to know that he has to wait outside, no matter how much he hates it.
But then, the moment he comes back and sees Buck’s eyes, everything starts making sense, everything falls back into place and he can breathe easier. He can breathe again, actually.
As soon as his eyes meet Buck’s blues, Eddie’s heart starts beating in double time, becoming the lightest version of itself.
Buck makes Eddie feel like the kid he has never had the chance to be, the teenager whose teen years have been stolen from by an unplanned pregnancy and an oversea war, like a man who has another chance at being truly happy.
And that’s why Eddie’s eyes start watering as soon as his ass finds the closest spot to Buck on the edge of Buck’s bed.
“Baby, hi,” he whispers, fingers trembling while he tries to touch Buck’s face with a delicacy that has never been his, until he met the man in front of him.
Buck’s smile is lopsided and a bit crooked, because of the anesthesia or something else Eddie can’t quite place yet, but it’s still the best thing Eddie has ever seen in his life.
“Hey-” Buck then says, voice hoarse and a tad shy.
Eddie doesn’t know he is crying until he sees a frown on Buck’s forehead and runs to smooth it with a thumb, because now he can and it’s a thrilling feeling. “Hey, what is it?” He says, moving to brush some curls away from Buck’s face. It’s probably his new favorite thing to do.
“You’re crying, Eds,” Buck tells him, laughing a bit, like Eddie is ridiculous for crying over him.
So Eddie leans back a bit and dries his face and realizes that yeah, he is crying. Then he laughs, a bit hysterically, and leans down, sinking in Buck’s pillow, next to his head, breaking down fully, while hugging his best friend, the love of his life.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, even if it’s muffled by the pillow and he is probably going to suffocate soon if he doesn’t move but that thought doesn’t stop him. He only presses more into Buck, into the space between Buck’s neck and shoulder and the pillow, like it’s been carved out just for him.
He feels Buck’s chest shake slightly with a suppressed laughter, then a weak arm, the one with the IV, hug him loosely. “I’m good, Eds… we’re good.”
Eddie nods but he doesn’t move. He sniffs. “I love you so much, don’t ever get shot again for me, asshole,” he cries out, half joking, half protesting, as serious as ever somehow.
And Buck prays that the monitors he is attached to won’t reveal how fast his heart is beating.
“Eddie, come on, babe, you know I would,” he says, mindlessly rubbing a little spot on Eddie’s back with his tired fingers.
It’s so liberating to be able to touch Eddie, to call him all the pet names he has had to bite back in the last few months (when his feelings started to really, really push to the surface), to be able to hug him without worrying about having to let go.
He can hug Eddie and never let go, if he wants to, he realizes. “Will you stay a little bit?” He sleepily asks, eyes drooping, once Eddie leans back to look at him again.
Eddie snorts. “What? You really thought I was gonna leave?”
Buck’s laugh, together with Christopher’s, is the best sound Eddie has ever heard, so he can’t do anything else except lean down and kiss him.
It’s just a little peck, just because Eddie wants to swallow every little happy sounds Buck produces, then he starts to pull away. But Buck makes a cute, little uh-uh sound before gripping the front of Eddie’s T-shirt and dragging him back down, attacking his lips again.
And he would keep going and transform whatever this thing is in a full make-out session but he is tired, he is feeling the effects of surgery and he is also feeling quite emotional, so he just moves his grip from Eddie’s chest to his shoulders and brings him down onto the bed, until Eddie gets the message and actually lays down.
“Can I at least get out of my boots?” He teases Buck, kissing his temple.
“Nope,” is what is gets in response.
And he really stays there, lying sideways, even when Buck falls asleep with his face pressed in the crook of his neck, in the least comfortable position ever known to man, just to hold his boyfriend. He never wants to let go. And he won’t.