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It had all happened so fast.
One second, Eddie was doing crowd control, trying to keep onlookers away from the wreckage while they worked, and the next, he was caught in the middle of a brawl. The scene had already been chaotic—a five car pile-up that blocked the entire freeway tended to bring out the worst in people—and tempers were flaring. Before Eddie even knew what was happening, punches were being thrown, and he’d ended up between them, trying to break it up.
And it was just his luck that he wasn’t fast enough.
He really should’ve seen the first hit. It came from the guy that had started the fight, and the punch landed right between Eddie’s lower ribs. The second hit—an elbow to the face—did come out of nowhere, though, sending him stumbling back.
He had to watch in horror, clutching his side, as the fight escalated. There must’ve been at least six guys caught in the middle of it now, each yelling blame onto the others. Considering his… past, Eddie really wasn’t prepared for it.
But he still stepped back in, trying to pull the flailing limbs apart and back to their respective bodies. He caught two more hits, another to the ribs, and one to the knee.
A few police officers, along with Hen and Chim, were beside him a moment later, helping him pull everybody apart. The fight was over almost as quickly as it had started, people scattering as soon as the police made themselves known.
The scene calmed down, and no one seemed to notice that Eddie had taken a couple of hits.
Which was good, because the last thing Eddie wanted was to admit that he’d been caught off guard. He always had things under control, and he didn’t lose fights, even when they came out of nowhere. So when Hen glanced his way with a concerned look, Eddie just waved her off with a tight smile, ignoring the sharp pain that echoed throughout his body
Hen didn’t push, and the rest of the shift went on like normal. But by the time they got back to the station, the adrenaline had worn off, and Eddie could feel the ache spreading through his body. His ribs were sore, his knee aching, and his arm throbbed from where someone had grabbed him and twisted.
But he kept quiet.
The others were exhausted, and Eddie wasn’t about to make a big deal out of a couple of bruises.
So Eddie kept quiet, and he kept moving. He helped Chim clean the kitchen after a dinner with the team, sat with everyone for a while to watch some unnameable TV show, and eventually made his way down to the bunks. He was thankful that it was a slow day, that nobody else was feeling tired enough to sleep even though the sun had set a few hours ago.
The sharp pain from his ribs had only gotten worse, and, while he knew that they weren’t broken, he also knew that they were probably bruised as hell. He would be tempted to check it out, make sure nothing is too messed up, but the idea of getting up and moving sounded like too much of an effort.
The door to the bunk room opened and shut quietly.
“You awake?”
A complicated wave of emotions rushed into Eddie’s head. Relief that it was Buck, confusion as to why it was Buck, and the overwhelming ache (both in his body and his heart) that seemed to dull everything.
Eddie sighed, pushing his head further into the pillow, trying to avoid aggravating any of his bruises. “What gave it away?”
Buck didn’t respond at first. Instead, he sat on the bed beside Eddie’s, leaning forward to scan his eyes across Eddie like he was analyzing, looking for something. “You’ve been off all night.”
With a pathetic excuse of a laugh, Eddie rolled his eyes. Of course Buck noticed. Buck always noticed. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” Buck said, crossing his arms. “I saw those hits you took.”
Eddie tensed, but didn’t dare to say anything just yet.
Buck took note of this with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve been limping around since we got back.”
“I’m not limping,” Eddie muttered, moving to turn his head toward Buck. It was a weak defense, and he knew it.
But Buck gave him that look, the one that said a million different things. It said he can see right through Eddie, that he wouldn’t let this go.
“You got hit,” Buck said, voice firm but not unkind. “And you haven’t told anyone.”
Eddie huffed and went through the motion of sitting up. The movement caused a white hot flash of pain to spike up his side, but he just gritted his teeth until he was on the same eye level as Buck. “I’m fine, Buck.”
“You’re clearly not ,” he countered, leaning forward again. “Let me help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Eddie.” Buck’s voice softened, and when Eddie dared to look back at him, Buck’s expression had shifted—less frustration, more concern. “It’s just me. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
All of Eddie’s arguments fell apart. Because Buck was right. Of course he was right. Buck had seen him at his worst, had seen him broken and vulnerable, and still, Buck had always been there to help.
Eddie leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
Buck smiled, and it was small, sincere. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just me.”
And what an understatement that was. Buck had a tendency to say things like that, small snippets that made Eddie want to go back in time and throw a few punches of his own toward whoever decided that Buck deserved to hurt. Eddie wanted to yell back to him, ‘You are! You’re the biggest deal and I can’t understand why you can’t see it!’
But Eddie saw the look in Buck’s eyes, a silent plea that was gentle, understanding, and something deep inside Eddie’s chest unraveled. He nodded, shifting slightly to face Buck a little better. “Fine. Do your worst.”
Buck let out a soft laugh, something golden and bright and everything that Eddie didn’t deserve to hear. And then Buck was by his side, crouched next to the bed, hands hovering over Eddie’s body, and suddenly Eddie wasn’t quite sure where he should be looking.
“Take your shirt off.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. His chest beat, beat, beat, sounding out the syllables to a very familiar name. “You don’t waste time, do you, Buckley?”
Buck just rolled his eyes, but Eddie could see the smile tucked between his features. “Shut up and let me see.”
With a huff of a laugh, Eddie obliged. The action of actually taking off his shirt made him wince, the different angles pulling at the bruises in the worst ways. When the cool air hit his skin, he immediately felt some sort of self-conscious under Buck’s gaze. He really shouldn’t be, they’ve seen each other in the locker room plenty of times, but this was different. The little sliver of light from beneath the closed door was the only thing illuminating the room, and Buck was just so… close.
“Jesus, Eddie,” Buck muttered, his eyes falling to the blossoming bruises across his ribs. His fingers hovered, like he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to touch him. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because it’s not a big deal,” Eddie said, quietly. He wanted to wrap his arms back around his torso, hide in the deepening red and tough it out until his body eventually healed.
But Buck’s eyes were there to catch him, soft blue waves that spoke to him softly. You don’t have to do this on your own. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.
So Eddie tried his best not to hide, to keep himself on full display for Buck as he was examined. The silence between them was palpable, but comfortable, every breath of air mixing in the thin layer of air that separated them.
“You need ice,” Buck eventually said.
Eddie huffed. “Thanks, doc.”
Buck just rolled his eyes, standing to head out of the room. Eddie hadn’t realized how much he had been leaching off of Buck’s warmth until it was gone, leaving him cold and empty on the bed. It was a stark difference, but he didn’t have the guts yet to figure out why.
“I’ll be right back,” Buck said as he walked out. He didn’t shut the door behind him, a silent promise that he would be back to close it.
Eddie let his gaze wander to the ceiling, the walls, the other empty beds. He tried not to think about the little pounding thing in his chest that told him to follow Buck, to stick by his side no matter what. He tried not to think about the way Buck had hovered over him, his worry conflicting with the something else that was strewn across his face.
When Buck returned, Eddie was staring blankly at the opposite wall, rolling over the possibilities in his head. The soft click of the door closing made him glance up.
Buck was by his side in an instant, like he too didn’t like the idea of being far apart. In his hands was a bag of ice, wrapped carefully in a kitchen towel. Without a word of warning, he pressed the ice pack to Eddie’s ribs, forcing the latter to suck in a deep breath of shock.
“Hold this,” Buck said, and Eddie didn’t think to argue. This time, Buck sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, his gaze stuck on the nasty bruises. “Now, what’s going on with your leg? I saw how you were limping around earlier, Eddie, so don’t deny it.”
Eddie let out a slow sigh, trying to avoid the full heat of Buck’s accusatory stare. “I just—nothing’s wrong with it, I promise. It got a little banged up in the fight earlier, but it’s fine.”
Buck looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an unspoken question.
“Yes, I’m sure, Buck.” Eddie shifted a little, pressing the ice on his ribs to a spot a little lower down.
“Okay,” Buck said with a sigh. He was still looking at Eddie like… well, Eddie wasn’t completely sure. Buck’s eyes held so much emotion that it was hard to differentiate between them in moments like that. “I’m allowed to worry about you.”
Eddie smiled, and he knew it was sincere. “Thanks,” he muttered, voice softer than usual.
Buck just shrugged. He was still hovering, like he wasn’t completely sure that he was allowed to be this close. A part of Eddie wanted to pull Buck closer, to hold him and be held. He wanted to be surrounded by Buck’s care, his worry and his laughs and whatever it was in his eyes.
He wasn’t in the right state of mind to think that over, however.
“You’d do the same for me.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “I would.”
Finally, Buck set his hand on Eddie, a steady warmth just below his knee. It did little to soothe the physical ache there, but it made every pain inside his chest flee. He lingered there, and for a second, Eddie let himself take comfort in the fact that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry everything alone.
“You should get some sleep,” Buck said, his voice low.
Eddie nodded, not bothering to argue. With the warmth of Buck so close, his body felt heavy, the exhaustion settling into his bones comfortably.
But then Buck stood up, and that warmth was gone.
Eddie watched him take a few steps toward the door. He didn’t know why, but something about Buck leaving made his chest tighten in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with his bruises. He didn’t want to be alone, and he didn’t have the strength to pretend otherwise.
“Buck, wait.”
Buck stopped, his hand on the door, turning back to face Eddie. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but his gaze was soft, patient—like he was hanging on the edge of Eddie’s words, like he’d stay as long as Eddie needed him to.
Suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say, Eddie sighed. He wasn’t good at this—at asking for help, at admitting when he needed someone. But as he sat there, the ice pack pressed to his ribs and the pain just a dull throb in the back of his mind, all he knew was that he didn’t want Buck to leave just yet.
“You don’t have to go,” Eddie said quietly, the words strange and foreign on his tongue, unfamiliar in a way that made him feel vulnerable.
Buck’s expression softened, his hand falling away from the door in a quiet kind of disbelief. “You sure?”
Eddie nodded, the tension in his chest easing when Buck stepped closer again, pulling a chair from the other end of the room to the empty spot beside Eddie’s bed. A wave of relief washed over him, though he wasn’t too sure why. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle the pain on his own—he always had. But having Buck there, having him close, made it all seem a little easier.
“Hurts more than you thought, huh?” Buck asked, though his voice was gentle.
Eddie huffed out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah. A little.”
“Glad you finally admitted it,” Buck said with a small smile, his eyes soft with understanding.
A few moments of silence passed between them. With anyone else, it would be awkward. But it was Buck, and Eddie was just glad to have him by his side.
“You okay?” Buck eventually asked, his voice low, careful.
Leaning further back against the headboard, Eddie sighed. “Yeah. I mean… no. But I will be.”
Because you’re here.
The words were left unspoken, Eddie breathing them into existence in the hope that Buck would hear them, feel them, and say something about it.
“You don’t have to be the one holding everything together, you know.”
Eddie let out a quiet laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before.”
Something light, gentle, brushed against Eddie’s hand that held the ice pack. In the darkness of the bunk room, Eddie thought it was just a phantom of his imagination. But no—there it was again. And oh—
Oh.
Buck was holding Eddie’s hand.
It was a tender touch, as if Buck was hesitant, unsure if he could go all the way. Eddie debated whether or not he could hold Buck’s hand and keep the ice pack in place, but settled for simply hooking his pinky finger around Buck’s.
“Because it’s true,” Buck said, voice steady and persistent in the torment of Eddie’s mind. “And you don’t always listen.”
Eddie shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glanced over at Buck, his heart doing that strange pitter patter that it tended to dance to when he caught Buck’s eyes. It was overwhelming sometimes, to see such care in those blue depths, how much Buck seemed to see him, how much he could say without speaking the words aloud.
“You don’t have to stay,” Eddie whispered, even though every part of him longed for Buck to come closer.
“I know,” Buck said, tightening his grip on Eddie’s hand just a little. “But I want to.”
Something shifted in Eddie’s chest, just beneath the surface. He wasn’t used to this. To ask for what he needed, to let someone in like this. But with Buck, it felt different. It felt… safe.
Eddie let out a slow breath, his body deflating with the weight of the day. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice just a little softer than he intended.
Buck shrugged, his smile soft and genuine. “Anytime.”
Eddie wasn’t sure how long they sat there for, silent and calm and warm. He didn’t know when he had shifted to lay down fully, or when Buck had moved along to be pressed up against his side. Time was slow and syrupy, but Buck was there no matter what.
His hands were in Eddie’s hair, pushing back strands when they fell against his forehead. His body was there to bring Eddie a special kind of warmth, ever careful of the bruises that dotted his side. He was surrounded by Buck, Buck, Buck.
So Eddie finally let sleep take him, allowing himself to feel safe in the knowledge that when he woke up, Buck would be there.