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“It's like I have a reservoir of catholic guilt, just lying dormant, waiting to be activated”
He's been replaying those moments with Buck a lot in his mind lately. How Buck offered to help him and for a moment, without even haven done anything, he was like Sisyphus, rolling the heavy boulder of the world’s weight off of Eddie’s worn and battered shoulders.
Buck’s always been like that, a steady force, unbending in the wind, never falling over. They’ve grown side by side for so long, Eddie never thought to look beneath the surface at where their roots had started to intertwine. He never realized when they went from being Buck and Eddie to BuckandEddie.
One word. One pair. Never far from the other.
This realization came to be on a Thursday after work at approximately 8:55. A fact only noted due to the rolling credits of 3-1-1, their favourite workplace drama starring the characters Oliver and Ryan, segmenting they’re current efforts to help coordinate Main Street's missed garbage bin pick ups.
But, let’s take a step back and see how Eddie got himself to this pretty vital and pretty fucking late epiphany.
~ 13 hours earlier ~
“I thought Bobby said no more clipboards for you?” Eddie joked, hoping to make Buck laugh after what seemed to be a never-ending week, which still to his dismay had 6 hours left on this shift.
Grinning, Buck turned towards him, “We negotiated, I can have a clipboard as long as I don’t turn into a clipboard-wielding maniac again. Pretty fair if you ask me”
“Fair for you or fair for the rest of us?”
“Haha” Buck deadpanned, while still displaying his blindingly sunny smile, his shoulder brushes Eddie’s as if connected by a magnet or invisible red string. Eddie’s going to need sunglasses or he’ll get cataracts if he keeps staring.
Buck continues, “Anyways, I was just double checking we’re on for game night tonight? I want to try another version of my lasagna, I think the ratio of acid to creaminess is off.”
“Also”, he grabs a thick blue book covered in an ocean picture from between where his turnouts are hanging, it’s covered in sticky notes and dog-eared pages. “I was thinking about Chris’ paper for science and I have some facts that might be helpful”
A chuckle bursts unbothered out of Eddie’s chest at the sheer amount of tags placed in the book. Eddie deliberates vocalizing how much he appreciates all the effort Buck makes with his kid, but he doesn’t because of course Buck would already know that, right?
“Thanks, but you’re going to have to text him to let him know. Chris has a last minute sleepover tonight with Denny, something about a new video game release.”
“Oh”, and the look of grief that gets cast across Buck’s features makes Eddie wish he put his foot down when Chris asked to go out on a school night, game night of all nights.
“You can still come over if you want though? I’m no means an expert in lasagna but it’s probably better than you accidentally giving Chris food poisoning”
“Hey! I’m not the one who has set THREE, not one, not two, but three separate toasters on fire while making breakfast!”
And there it is, the unbridled joy Eddie gets inexplicably (sure Eddie, sureeeee), every time he can make Buck do that smile, the one that gets the thin wrinkles on his forehead to smoothen out as his eyes shine so purely.
God, Eddie wishes he could bask in the glory of that smile all day.
Just like that, the moment is ruined by the blare of the alarm and its business as usual once more.
~
The smell of smoke, burning flesh and wood is putrid and strong in the air, like tea that has steeped for far too long. Up ahead of the 118’s freshly parked firetruck is a building, starting to list to the left under the now burnt and crumbling foundation of what, just 30 minutes ago, was a steady and bustling apartment building.
“Buckley, Diaz, join the 136 clearing the building.” Bobby barks out the orders, “Hen, Chimney start setting up the triage area, there's going to be a lot of victims this evening.”
Rustling fabric and clunking gear are heard as everyone rushes to their station.
“Captain”, Eddie nods his head to the captain of the 136 who is the IC for this particular incident. Even without looking back, he knows Buck is behind him, and feels his warm presence even through the layers of protective, fire-proof equipment made to withstand 870°C.
A gruff voice responds, “Third and fourth floors are being cleared, I’m sending you up to the sixth floor and you’ll both head down till you're intercepted by my men.”
“Copy” twin shouts reply from BuckandEddie.
~
By the time they get to the sixth floor the smoke is so thick it's impossible to see more than a foot in front of their masks.
“LAFD, Fire Department, Call out!” seems to be echoing through the vacant hallways and open doors. The building seems to shudder minutely before settling once again.
“This is incident command, the building foundation is unstable. Three minutes and then every single one of you better be out of the building, no heroics.”
Eddie turns around to attempt to make meaningful eye contact with Buck, as if to say “That includes you, because you matter, Evan” in hopes that he may one day condition Buck to believe him, but behind him is only smoke.
Then, a shoulder brushes his in assurance as Buck passes Eddie and opens the door to their left, “LAFD, Fire Department, Call out!”.
A tiny, frightened voice calls back, “Here, in here!”
So, Eddie and Buck depart to go their own ways in search of survivors, like boats passing in the night. Buck rushes into that damn room and Eddie goes to search the doors on the right side.
In the following rooms Eddie spies toppled chairs and half-eaten dinners, but no souls in sight. As he is about to turn back to ensure his partner got out safely he is met with Bosko and another man from the 136.
“The lower floors are clear, we need to get out before the building crumbles”, he hears Lena yell.
Eddie starts to turn around towards the way whence he came, “Okay, I just need to make sure Bu-”
“Now!” Lena tugs on his sleeve unyieldingly, pulling Eddie down the hallway further from the room he saw Buck enter merely 2 minutes ago.
“Wait, Buck went to go grab a kid from room 604, I need to make sure he got out safely”
“He would have radioed for help if he needed it, you heard cap’ no heroics, that includes staying behind unnecessarily to check on your, whatever he is.”
The building shudders and screams out as if it's in pain thrice more before Eddie makes it outside. The sky is dark blue and starless, like how Eddie feels when he realizes Buck is nowhere to be seen.
Making a B-line to Bobby, Eddie hurries, his lungs starting to burn from exertion.
“Where’s Buck? Is he on the way to the hospital with the kid? Did he get hurt? I didn’t hear anything” Eddie bombarders his captain with inquiries.
“Buck? I haven’t seen him yet, shouldn’t he have come out with you?” Bobby grabs his walkie talkie from his shoulder strap, “Buckley, status report”
Harsh breathing replies from the other end of the static before the line crackles again, likely from the speaker changing positions.
“Buckley reporting back, went to go check a child's room for a voice, turned out to be a horror film on a tablet.”, coughing and raspy breathing follows. “Was on my way out when a bookshelf toppled onto my right leg, currently working on getting it off”
The line clicks off into dead silence.
No, no that can't be. Eddie can’t fathom what Buck seems to be saying. It's like a scene out of one of his worst nightmares, Buck is pinned and yet again Eddie is helpless to do anything. It's worse this time though, because after every time Buck had his back, Eddie couldn't even hold his hand in support like he did after the bombing.
Fear lacing his voice, “Bobby, that’s his good leg! He probably won’t be able to get the leverage to extricate his leg on his own with his bad leg.”
Grasping his shoulder to prevent him to go back into the apartment complex, “I know, but the building’s too unstable”
“NO! You don’t understand, I can't leave him there!”
“I know! Eddie, I know how you feel about him. So”, he sighs deeply. “I’m not going to stop you but, you need to think of Christopher. The building’s unstable if we go in there, there's a good chance we might not get out in time”.
There was something about the way that Bobby talked about him and Buck that made him feel like an exposed nerve, open to the world and too easily observed.
“If I don’t do everything I can to save Buck then I won’t be able to look Chris in the face and tell him that his Buck is gone. I won’t do it, I won't survive doing it.”
“Fine, then let's be quick”, Bobby says, throwing his gas tank onto his shoulder and running towards the mounting flames and ever leaning framework.
~
Eddie’s heart is pounding in his chest as he and Bobby finally make it back to the sixth floor. His mouth is dry from the adrenaline running through his veins and the fact that he’s been screaming out for Buck since the third floor, well before Buck would have been able to hear his cries.
“Buck! Call out! Buck!”
“Eddie” a raspy voice is heard, rattling through the thick and heavy smoke filled air. “I’m over here”.
Heedless of his massive 6 foot 2 inch frame, Buck huddling around his crushed leg, trembling, looks so, unbelievably small. Eddie feels overtaken by his emotions, barely suppressing his urge to wrap Buck up with his body and shield him from the world.
He will never understand how the Buckley’s parents could ever ignore the human sunshine that is somehow this progeny of their black holes where their hearts should be. Eddie will ever cease to be amazed at how Buck managed to survive a place where even light can’t escape (he learned that from Buck during Chris’ astronomy phase).
His train off thought is broken off by Bobby leaning down to grasp the frame of the bookshelf, “Let’s get you out of here, Buckaroo”
The shelving unit tumbles against the wall, off of Buck's leg and a resounding crash sounds, and for one horrible, unbearable second as the building quivers it feels like the floor beneath their feet may give.
And Eddie prays…
Eddie prays at this moment that it won’t. He prays to the unforgiving, deaf god of his youth, that maybe for once at this moment that he may open his ears and finally answer Eddie’s desires. To deliver all of them from this apartment building so Buck and him may go home to their son.
Then the building doesn't fall, and Buck is free. Eddie takes his first full breath of air in the past 9 minutes since he last saw Buck, a man who fills voids in him that he never knew were there.
“Okay Buck, time to get out of here” he mumbles only barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of creaking metal and grinding stone and cement.
Bobby and Eddie each wrap one of Buck’s arms over their shoulders and one step in front of the other they go back down the stairs. Reminding Eddie of Chris, they ‘just keep swimming’.
As Eddie exits the apartment building for the second time that night, he does so with less and more weight on his shoulders. He thinks that maybe, way up in the distance of that clear blue night sky, that there may be a star up there guiding him and Buck safely home. He swears that star's light reflects Buck's own, just a little, as it guides him in the same way Buck always has.
~
“Hey, come on! Two pick up fours do you hate me Eddie!” No animosity is displayed on Buck’s face, only that lovely, goofy grin that he wears so well.
“Says the man who skipped my turn four separate times, in a row, Buck!”
“Mhmm”
“Uno.”
“I’ve read all of Agatha Christie's books and I’m not afraid to use the knowledge I gained”, Buck says, slamming his cards down with a faux serious attitude.
Pressing his thumb against his forehead crease, “What does that even mean”.
“The infamous female author who wrote mysteries about real poisons. Y'know, cyanide and belladonna?”
“Right, cause I’m spending all day reading books about poisoners”, Eddie deadpans.
Getting up, Eddie asks, “You want a beer? I think it’s about time for our show .”
“Sounds perfect, thanks!”
“How’s your leg, need more ice?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Buck replies.
Sitting down, Eddie maneuvers Buck’s legs into lap and hands Buck his beer. After setting up the TV he focuses on attempting to massage the stress of today out of his muscles, being mindful of his bad sprain and bruises.
“Thanks for coming back in for me”, Buck murmurs.
Tight-lipped Eddie utters, “What did we say? I’ll have your back any day, everyday you need me to. You know I’d never just leave you in a building burning?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been left in a building that felt like it was on fire” he admits.
“Come here,” Eddie says, opening his arms. Buck lays his head on his chest, finally feeling at rest. Something Eddie loved about their dynamic was that words didn't have to be said for them to communicate their true feelings. They just knew on some fundamental level how the other one was, most of the time.
Thus, with the comforting weight of Buck against his chest he allowed himself to count his breaths and as they evened out he relish in the fact that Buck trusted him at his most vulnerable and he could trust Buck so viscerally in exchange.
In the end, there wasn’t some big explosion, or fatal fire. There was just Buck. That's not right, Eddie corrects himself in his mind, for there is no “just Buck”.
Eddie recalls Buck's blue eyes in his mind, so reminiscent of the treacherous water of the tsunami all those years prior. He realizes that while he never truly believed in religion, he always unfailingly, unconditionally and blindly believed in Buck.
If Eddie was a religious man, he resolved his religion would be Buck, as so many prayers and wishes have been answered by him, his support and his, fuck, his love for Eddie.
Thus, after a moment to ponder that somehow after years of swearing off anything to do with God, that he shall believe so heartfully again in something unintangible.
Eddie whispers, like a prayer, into the soft curls tickling his nose, an utter gut wrenching realization, “oh, god, I love you, Evan”. His one bequest in this moment; to never flounder in his devotion to this man as he had so stumbled away from his prior faith.