Archive of Our Own

Buck thinks he’s never been happier than in this moment.

Sure, the rain is coming down something fierce, in a way that they hardly ever see in Los Angeles, and being out on the road in weather like this is less than ideal, but. But he’s got Eddie in the passenger seat of his jeep, looking more settled - more at peace - than he has done in, god, years. And in the backseat, chatting at about a mile a minute - so quick that he’s barely even pausing to breathe - is Christopher. Finally. After too many long, agonising months.

He’s here. He’s home. They’re on the way back from picking him up at the airport, and now their family is whole again. Buck feels like he can breathe, for the first time Chris walked out that door without looking back.

He knows Eddie feels the same - knows Eddie feels it tenfold. His body has lost almost all of the tension he’d been carrying around for months, and he’s breathing like he’s finally got his heart back. There’s a permanent smile etched onto his face like he doesn’t even know how to stop, and you can only see if you look closely, but his eyes are red from the force of trying to hold back his tears. He’s always the most beautiful person in any room, but right now he’s just about the prettiest thing Buck has ever seen. And when he glances at Buck and catches his eyes for a split second, the smile he gives him is devastating.

“…and a lot of people think the yellow rose is the state flower, but it’s actually the bluebonnet,” Christopher informs them. “And, the state plant is a prickly pear cactus, did you know that?”

“I didn’t, bud,” Buck says. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Prickly pear actually tastes pretty good. Have you ever tried it, dad?”

“I have,” Eddie tells him. “When I was a kid there used to be a food truck that would stop at the park, and they sold prickly pear lemonade. It was great.”

“Yeah. I loved it there,” Chris says wistfully, and for a moment it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the jeep. But then- “It’s not home, though. I’m glad to be back, even if it’s raining.”

Buck hears Eddie sigh in relief, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off the road again. The weather really is awful. Buck is practically squinting to see out the windshield because the wipers can’t work fast enough, and despite the fact that’s only early afternoon, you could easily mistake it for late evening with how dark it is outside. It’s…eerie, honestly. Buck is a confident driver, but this is next level shit.

He’s considering pulling over once they’ve made it off the bridge, just so they can wait out the worst of it, when-

“Look out,” Eddie shrieks.

Buck swerves just in time to avoid being hit by the oncoming car. He slams on the brakes, his arm darting out across Eddie’s chest to keep him from being jolted forwards. But before they even get the chance to take a breath, there’s the screech of tires, the crunching of metal, and the unmistakable sound of something hitting the water below.

Buck looks at Eddie, and Eddie looks at Buck, then-

“Christopher, stay here. Do not get out of the car,” Eddie demands.

“Call 9-1-1,” Buck adds.

“Dad, Buck! Wait,” Christopher cries out.

But they’re both undoing their seat-belts, opening their doors, and running out into the storm.

That car undoubtedly went off the bridge, which means someone is trapped inside. And there’s no such thing as an off-duty firefighter - not really. They’re always on. Always ready to answer the call. Always ready to jump into action at a moment's notice, because it’s what they’re trained to do. But, more than that, it’s who they are. Saving people is a part of them; it’s what Buck was born for, after all.

They run through the rain to the other side of the bridge, and come to a grinding halt when they see exactly where the car hit the guardrail. The metal is crumpled and bent, and completely missing in some places. Buck chances a look at Eddie, and he knows they’re both wearing the exact same expression: panic. Because someone is down there and they need help, and with the weather like it is, it could be a while before any arrives.

Right now, Buck and Eddie are the only chance whoever is in that car has.

“We can climb down the embankment there,” Eddie yells over the rain, pointing towards where the tree line begins to slope down towards the water. “Do you have any tools in your car?”

Buck thinks for a second, then scrunches his nose in frustration. “Just a crowbar.”

“I’ll go get it and check on Chris, then I’m coming down after you. Okay?”

“Eddie-“ Buck begins, and the intent in his voice must be clear because Eddie shakes his head.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he insists. “Now go!”

There’s no time to waste, so Buck does what he’s told even if he isn’t happy about it. He’d wanted to tell Eddie to stay in the jeep with Chris - wanted to keep both of them safe and sound, out of harm’s way. But Buck should have known better than to even attempt that. He should have known that having each other’s backs isn’t just something they say in theory, but something that they mean. Something that they practise. They both know someone needs to get down there and help, and they also both know that they wouldn’t ever let the other go it alone. That’s simply not how they work.

The embankment is as muddy as all hell, and Buck slips and slides as he scrambles down the side of it. He feels something tug at the t-shirt he’s wearing, and feels the tear as it rips open. Then when a branch catches on his jacket, he decides shedding it is the best idea - he can’t go in the water with it on, anyway. He drops it on the floor right as he reaches the edge of the river.

He’s got a better view of the car from here, because he’s so much closer and it’s easier to see it through the rain. Thankfully - by some absolute fucking miracle - the water levels are low enough that the car isn’t underwater. Yet, at least. But with the way the rain is coming down, there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way for long. Buck tries to assess the situation from afar but he can’t see all that much, and when he calls out there’s no reply, so. He begins to wade into the water.

He should probably have taken off his jeans, as well as his jacket, but it’s getting cool out now, and the bite of the water is already bitter against his skin. Plus, the water - it turns out, as he gets closer to the car - is only just above waist height anyway.

“Hello?” Buck calls out. “Hello? Are you-“

“Hello?” Someone yells back frantically. “Oh my god, help!”

It sounds like a woman’s voice, which becomes apparent as Buck makes it to the driver’s side door and peers through the window.

He bangs on the glass and yells, “Wind your window down!”

It opens an inch or two, but refuses to budge any further. “It’s stuck!”

“It’s okay,” Buck reassures her. “Don’t panic.”

As he peers through the two inch gap above the window, he sees that, thankfully, she’s alone. No kids in the car, no one else that they’ll need to get out. That always makes their job easier. There’s already water flooding the car, but the level doesn’t seem to be rising in a way that’s concerning for now. The woman looks to be about Buck and Eddie’s age, with long dark hair and a gash on her forehead from where it hit the steering wheel when she went off the bridge. But she’s conscious and alert, which is the most important thing.

“I think - I think I’m stuck,” she whimpers.

“Okay. Okay, listen,” Buck says. “My name is Buck, and I’m a firefighter. We’re gonna find a way to get you out of here. What’s your name?”

“Holly.”

“Okay, Holly-“

There’s a splash from behind Buck that draws his attention, and when he turns around Eddie is right there - a bright spot amongst all of this dreariness. He’s wading towards Buck with the crowbar in his hands, and while Buck is reluctant to admit it, he’s glad Eddie is here. He doesn’t want him in danger - would much rather him be safe up top with Christopher - but he’s glad he isn’t alone in this.

“Hey,” Eddie pants. “What’s it looking like?”

Buck takes the crowbar from Eddie, then shifts to the side so he can look inside the car.

“This is Holly,” Buck introduces them. “Holly, this is my friend Eddie. He’s a firefighter, too.”

“Thank god,” she says, and Buck and Eddie both manage to snort out a laugh.

She’s not wrong, after all. If you were ever to careen off the side of a bridge in the middle of a storm, you’d want two firefighters to be the first people to reach you. It’s fate, or the universe, or something. Though Buck is sure Eddie would disagree with that theory, so he doesn’t bother mentioning it.

“Chris called 9-1-1,” Eddie tells Buck. “They’re sending a crew, but it could be a while. We’re on our own for now.”

They’d already figured that would be the case, but it doesn’t make it any easier. They’ve got a woman stuck in a car, balanced on the river bed, right in the middle of a once-in-a-generation storm. It’s less than ideal circumstances, even if they had all of their equipment to hand, but right now they’ve got a crowbar, their brains, and little else to work with. It’s not enough, but they’ll have to find a way to make do.

And the look Eddie gives him…it’s determined. They’re not leaving this woman trapped here. They’re gonna get her out and send her home to her family, and they’re both gonna make it back to Christopher, too. There’s simply no other option that they’re willing to entertain.

“Okay, Holly,” Eddie says. “Do you know what you’re stuck on?”

She grunts as she wriggles around, and both Eddie and Buck instantly tell her not to move so much. She takes a steadying breath and settles back into her seat, then says, “My leg. My leg is stuck. I think one of the pedals broke, and my ankle is trapped underneath.”

Buck glances at Eddie and, like they so often do, they communicate wordlessly. It’s something they’ve done since the very beginning - something that Hen, and Chim, and Ravi all make fun of them for, both at work and outside of it as well. They only need a glance, a raise of an eyebrow, a fleeting touch, and they instantly know what the other is thinking. Their connection is like nothing Buck has ever experienced before, and it’s always served them well. Today will be no exception.

Buck nods his head, immediately knowing what Eddie is trying to tell him.

“Holly, we’re gonna smash this back window and climb into the car with you, alright? We’ll be able to help you better from there.”

She nods her head. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Just get me out, please.”

“That’s the plan,” Eddie says.

Eddie moves out of the way as Buck raises his arms and brings the crowbar down against the window. It only takes one strike for the glass to crack, and then a second for it to shatter. Buck uses the end of the crowbar to try and knock out as many of the leftover shards of glass as possible, so they don’t cut themselves when they slide inside, and then he gives Eddie another look. Eddie nods back.

Eddie slides himself through the gap where the window was once, and once he’s shifted over to make room, Buck follows suit. He feels a piece of glass cut his stomach but he doesn’t waste time looking down to check - it doesn’t feel serious, and even if it is there’s nothing he can do about it now. They still have to get Holly out of the car and onto dry land.

As Eddie climbs through to the front passenger seat to check on Holly, Buck tries to look around for anything they could possibly use to help. It’s difficult to search through the water filling the car, but aside from a blanket - that he drapes over the broken glass so no one gets cut again - there’s nothing of any use.

“Okay, I think you’re right, Holly,” Eddie says. Then, to Buck, “The brake pedal has broken and trapped her ankle underneath.”

He offers the crowbar to Eddie. “Can you pry it back with this?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t see properly. The water is too dark.”

It’s high enough that, while sitting in the car, it’s just below Holly’s chest. The footwell is completely submerged, and with the dark water and stormy skies it’s almost impossible to see anything.

“I’m gonna go under and see-”

“-no, Eddie,” Buck immediately says.

“Buck, I need to get her foot free,” he insists. “We’re fine, we’re not going anywhere - we’re already on the bottom.”

“Let’s swap,” Buck suggests, but Eddie shakes his head.

“I can-”

“I know you can, that’s not the problem,” Buck tells him. “The problem is-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, reaching a hand between the front seats and resting it on his shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere, just putting my head under the water for a minute.”

“Not a minute,” Buck huffs, but Eddie simply grins and takes it as permission.

As he takes a deep breath and ducks under, Buck can’t help but copy him. He wants to hold it - wants to keep the breath inside of him until Eddie pops back up again, because it would feel like that anyway. But Holly is still stuck, and she’s still frightened, so Buck doesn’t have time to be.

“Hey, Holly?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you unfasten your seatbelt for me? Don’t move, just unfasten it so we can get you out quicker once you’re free.”

Just as she unclasps it, Eddie breaks the surface of the water. His hair is plastered over his face, and he’s gasping for air as he pushes it backwards. He looks at Buck and shakes his head.

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” he says.

“Do you want me to try?”

“No. No, I’m gonna give it another go.”

He goes back under, and Buck can’t bear to simply watch and wait for him to come back up again. So he shifts to the centre and slips his torso through the gap between the front seats so he can see Holly clearly. The gash on her forehead is still bleeding but only a little bit, not really anything for them to worry about right now. Her eyes look clear but panicked, as they lock onto Buck’s, and he offers her an attempt at a smile.

She tries to smile back, but it’s more of a grimace, and Buck can tell that she’s getting scared now. He understands, because he kind of is, too. The water is cold and dark, and the rain outside is still so torrential that it sounds like hailstone hitting the roof of the car.

“How are you feeling?” Buck asks.

“My head hurts, but - but other than that I think I’m fine.”

Buck nods. “So , where were you heading, Holly?”

She laughs, shaking her head a little as tears start to well in her eyes. “I got into an argument with my fiance and went for a drive.”

“In this weather?” Buck teases, and she rolls her eyes but smiles all the same.

“What were you doing then?”

Eddie chooses that moment to pop his head back up out of the water, and Buck has to move backwards to give him some place. His eyes are bloodshot from forcing them open underwater, his lips are so pale they’re almost blue from the cold, and Buck wishes more than anything that he’d stayed in the car with Christopher. He wishes that Eddie was safe, and warm, and dry.

He fights the urge to tell him to leave - to go back to his son and wait for the firetruck to arrive - because he knows Eddie wouldn’t even dream of leaving him here. Instead, Buck reaches out and pushes Eddie’s hair back for him, so he can see his eyes - warm, even now.

“I’ve loosened it,” Eddie says. “One more go, and I think we’ll be able to get out of here.”

Buck grins. “You hear that Holly?”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” she replies.

With one last shared look, Eddie goes back under again. When Buck turns his attention to Holly in order to keep himself distracted, he finds that she’s already watching with an assessing look on her face.

“Are you two married?”

“Me and Eddie? To each other?” He asks, and she nods in confirmation. “No, no. He’s, uh. He’s my best friend.”

She hums, but it sounds doubtful, like she doesn’t quite believe him. And it’s not like he’s lying, not really. But he’s not completely telling the truth, either. Because Eddie is his best friend - he’s one of his very favourite people in the whole world, honestly. But…but for Buck, Eddie is also so much more than that.

He’s the joy in Buck’s darkest days, and the calm in the midst of all his storms. He’s peace, and he’s happiness, and he’s home...the very first person who has ever been that for Buck. Who has made him feel settled, and comfortable, and at ease, like he has a place in this world. Like he belongs.

Eddie is the love of Buck’s life, he just doesn’t know it.

Holly lets out a yelp and starts to wriggle, just as Eddie breaches the surface with a grin on his face.

“Can you-”

“-I can move!” Holly yells.

Buck and Eddie both sigh in relief.

“Okay, how do you feel about getting out of here?” Buck asks her.

She laughs. “Pretty damn good.”

Buck moves to the side so Holly can climb through to the back and slide herself out of the broken window. Eddie offers both of his hands to help her and she takes hold of them, but before she can start to extricate herself, something happens.

There’s a sound, so familiar it sends a chill down Buck’s spine that has nothing to do with the frigid water. It’s the same sound as that day at the pier, when a flood of water almost stole everything from him. There’s no doubt in Buck’s mind what just happened: the levee has broken. He knows what’s coming next. And Eddie’s hands are full trying to keep Holly steady, so he has no way to brace himself against the rush of water that’s about to hit them. It’s pure instinct that forces Buck to reach out, grabbing Eddie to steady him against the impact.

And then it hits.

The force of the water colliding with them feels like a car crash. Holly screams, and Eddie swears, but Buck doesn’t have a chance to do either. Too preoccupied with grabbing hold of Eddie, he hadn’t been able to brace himself. And, as the wall of water crashes into them and the car shifts along the riverbed, Buck slips.

For a terrifying moment he’s submerged beneath the water, but when his head breaks the surface again, he realises something else: he’s stuck. His leg had slid beneath the front passenger seat, and now something is stopping him from pulling it back out.

“Buck - Buck are you okay?”

“You need to get her out, now," Buck insists.

The water is steadily beginning to rise inside the car. They have maybe two minutes before it’s completely submerged. Both Eddie and Holly are free - they can make it out of the car and to the shore before it’s underwater.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, breathlessly.

He helps Holly climb through into the back first, and then he follows behind her. It’s a tight fit with all three of them, but there isn’t another option. The only open window is the back one. Holly slides herself through it first, having to push back against the torrent of water that’s starting to pour in through the window, and then Eddie follows after her.

He turns back around to face Buck, reaching a hand inside for Buck to take. But, like always, Eddie can read the expression that Buck is wearing. His mouth drops slightly, and his eyes widen as he frantically curls his fingers like he’s trying to get Buck to grab them.

“Buck.”

“My leg is stuck,” he confesses. “You have to get her out of here.”

“No! No, I’m not-”

“-Eddie! You need to go.”

“I can get you out - I can use the crowbar, I’ll…”

“The only thing you’re going to do is get yourself and Holly back to the shore.”

He can read Eddie like a book - can see the panic and the indecision on his face. It’s his job to save Holly, that’s the whole reason they’re in this mess, but every fibre of his being is telling him to stay behind and get Buck out. Buck knows, because he would feel the exact same if the roles were reversed. He’s just glad - thankful to a God he doesn’t believe in - that the roles aren’t reversed. Because if he had to do this…if he had to leave Eddie stranded here, he just might die.

Eddie’s looking at him like he’s thinking the exact same thing. But the water is rising, and the current is getting stronger, and no matter how hard Buck struggles, he can’t get his leg free.

“Go.”

“I’m coming back,” Eddie tells him. “I’m coming back for you, Buck. Okay? Just - just hold on.”

And then he’s gone, and Buck is all alone.

He wants to panic - wants to freak the fuck out like this situation warrants. But. But Christopher and Eddie are waiting up on that bridge for him. Maddie is pregnant. Jee-Yun is still so little. His family is whole again today, and Buck has so much to fight for…so much to lose. And it’s not like Buck was ever trying to die, because he wasn’t. But for a while he wasn’t really trying all that hard to live, either.

Now, though? Now Buck fights like hell.

He sucks in a breath and slips beneath the rapidly rising water, trying to find a way to get his leg free. Then he does it again, and again, and again. He’s panting and gasping, and shivering from the icy cold water. His fingers and lips are going numb, and his eyes are stinging from the water, but he’s still not giving up. He’d use the crowbar but it got lost when the levee broke, and it would be a waste of precious time - time that Buck doesn’t certainly doesn’t have enough of - if he tried to find it instead of trying to free himself.

He fights. He yanks his leg, wincing with every jolt to his already fragile knee. He ducks his head underwater again and tries to see what he’s stuck on, but it’s impossible. It’s too dark and too deep, and his trapped ankle is out of sight anyway.

The water is up to his neck when Eddie’s face reappears at the window.

“I’m coming in,” he says.

“No,” Buck stops him. “No, the water is too high. You have to go, Eddie. You shouldn’t have come back.”

Eddie doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response. He simply lets the force of the water gushing in push him through the open window, and he clambers across the back seat to Buck. His knee bumps into Buck’s thigh and his hand finds its home in the divot of Buck’s collarbone, and it feels like such a normal thing - something he would do at the station, or Buck’s loft, or at home - that the tears finally start to well in Buck’s eyes.

Because he loves Eddie. He loves him more than he’s ever loved anyone. Every single thing about him is good, and familiar, and right, like he’s the missing half to Buck. Like his heart wasn’t whole until he met Eddie and Chris, and started to build a life with them. Tommy had been right when he told Buck that he was his first, but not his last. Eddie was supposed to be Buck’s last…Eddie was supposed to be his always.

He was never supposed to have to say goodbye to him.

“Where’s the crowbar? I’m gonna go under, and get-”

“Eddie.”

“Where is it? I can get you-”

“Eddie.”

“We’ve got time. It’s okay. We’ve got time.”

They both know that he’s lying.

Buck can’t sit up fully because of the way that he’s stuck, so he’s half-reclined with the water already up to his chin as it continues to flood the car. Buck doesn’t have time. Not enough, at least. Not the amount that it would take to get him free.

And he doesn’t want to stop fighting - doesn’t ever want to give up, when he has people who are counting on him to make it home to them. When Eddie is counting on him to make it out of this. But…but it’s over. They’re out here on their own, and the water is rising too quickly, and Buck doesn’t want to spend his last moments frantic. Not when Eddie is here. Not when there’s so much he still needs to tell him, before it’s too late. Before he never gets the chance.

“Eddie, it’s okay.”

“No - no, if you give me the crowbar-”

“It’s gone,” Buck says. “It’s gone. I can’t find it. I’m stuck, Eddie.”

“No, no,” Eddie mutters, his hand fumbling to find Buck’s leg and tugging at it like some miracle is about to set him free.

“Stop. Stop. I need you to listen to me.”

Buck’s voice is firm this time. Not placating, not soothing, because Eddie doesn’t respond to that when he gets like this. He needs abrupt, sharp, like he’s back in the army. And the shock of it startles him into looking at Buck. His eyes are like burnt sugar - dark brown and warm, with swirls of caramel through them - and they settle Buck even now, in a moment like this. But they’re big and wide, and so fucking sad that Buck wants to cry.

“Eddie, I-”

“Don’t,” Eddie whimpers. “Don’t. Whatever it is, you can - you can tell me later. You can tell me when we get you out.”

Buck has to choke down a sob to say, “I’m not getting out, Eddie. I’m not. But you are.”

“Stop it,” Eddie begs.

“You need to go.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you! How can you even ask me that?”

He sounds horrified at the mere thought of it, and furious that Buck would even dare to suggest it. He’s still trying to pull Buck’s leg free, still trying to find the crowbar, still trying to dive beneath the water, but Buck pulls him back up every single time. He’s fighting like hell, but it’s a losing battle for Buck. It doesn’t have to be for Eddie.

“I’m not. I’m not asking you to leave me,” Buck says. “I’m asking you to not leave your son.”

Eddie’s face blanches and his eyes darken. “Fuck you,” he spits. “That isn’t fair and you know it.”

“I do - I do know it. But I will never play fair when it comes to your life, Eddie. You mean far too much to me,” Buck tells him, his voice fracturing painfully as he tries to hold back the tears.

Eddie faces crumples then, and his whole body begins to shake as desperate sobs rip through him. He knows, now, that all his trying is futile. He knows that Buck isn’t making it out of this. He’s going to die, and Eddie can’t save him, and the reality of it is tearing him apart.

As the water starts to reach Buck’s lips, he tilts his head back to try and steal himself more time. It won’t be enough, but Buck will take anything he can get - will take mere seconds, as long as he gets to spend every one of them at Eddie’s side.

“Eddie,” Buck says, his voice cracking.

“You can’t leave me,” Eddie cries.

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie as terrified as this. Not even that night in his bedroom, when he’d taken a baseball bat to everything he owned. His fear is so thick - so visceral - that Buck can almost taste it, and he wants to take it all away. He wants to make it better, because that’s what they do for each other. It’s what they’ve always done. But…but Buck can’t fix this one. He can’t take Eddie’s pain away when he’s the cause of it, and the reality of that is about as brutal as the reality of his imminent death. Because Buck will be gone soon, and he won’t be able to shield Eddie from the grief or the guilt. He won’t be able to shield Christopher, either.

He reaches his hand through the water in search of Eddie’s, and when he finds it he laces their fingers together.

“Eddie, I lo-”

But before the words can leave his lips, he’s underwater.

He squeezes his eyes closed, but nothing - not even the water filling his ears - is enough to block out the sound of Eddie’s scream. It travels through the air and the water, right into Buck’s chest. Into his bones. He feels it ripple through him like an earthquake, like a bullet, like a lightning bolt. He can feel Eddie’s grief beating like a heartbeat inside of him. He squeezes his hand, the last little bit of comfort that he can provide for Eddie before he slips away.

But, right as Buck is about to let himself go, there are hands on either side of his face, and lips on his lips. And as Buck opens his mouth he feels Eddie exhale, sharing his own oxygen with Buck - pushing life back into him, like he’s already done once before.

He does it again and again, breathing for Buck because he can’t breathe for himself. And Buck wants to cry and scream. He wants to beg Eddie not to leave him alone, and he wants to beg Eddie to save himself. To go back to Christopher, because one of them needs to make it home to him. He tries to shove at Eddie’s chest - tries to tell him wordlessly, like they’re always able to do, that he has to leave Buck behind. But if Eddie understands him, he refuses to listen.

It’s not lost on Buck that he tasted Eddie’s blood before he tasted his lips, and now he’s tasting his lips just as he’s about to die.

But, if Buck does have to die, then this is the only way he would want to go: with Eddie by his side. Eddie’s hands on his face, and lips on his lips, and Eddie’s breath in Buck’s lungs. Two halves of one whole.

When he feels Eddie’s hands slip away from his face, Buck thinks finally. He’s listened - he’s saved himself like Buck was begging him to - so now Buck can finally let go. He can stop fighting against the inevitable. He opens his eyes one last time, and through the sting of the water he thinks he can see the outline of two people above him. The lack of oxygen is finally getting to him.

And, as darkness starts to encroach on him, the only thing that Buck regrets is not telling Eddie that he loves him.

The world comes back to him in flashes.

His chest aches, and his throat burns, and he’s looking up at a stormy sky. There are silhouettes above him but he can’t make out their faces. He’s so cold, and his eyes are so sore and heavy that he lets them droop closed again.

The next time his eyes blink open, it’s brighter. There are two voices fluttering around him, and they’re so familiar that Buck feels the warmth of them right down to his ice cold bones. When Hen’s face pops into his line of sight, Buck sighs in relief. But the only word his mouth can say is, “Eddie,” before he slips back under.

When it happens again, Buck feels more alive and less like he’s somewhere in-between - less like he’s fighting to stay. It’s brighter than it was the last time, and the fluorescent white lighting hurts his eyes. He has to blink a couple of times to adjust, but once he does, his surroundings are unmistakeable. Buck would recognise this shade of hospital white anywhere; he sees it in all of his worst nightmares.

His throat is raw and his sternum aches with every breath, but he’s warm again, finally, and his eyes have stopped stinging. He’s alive. He’d accepted his fate - was convinced he’d reached the end of his time here. But, somehow, Buck is still breathing. He’s still here.

He’d stared death in the face once more, and told him not today.

A quiet sound draws Buck’s attention to his right, where he finds Eddie. He’s sleeping restlessly in a chair, with his elbow propped on the arm of it and his head resting on the palm of his hand. He looks exhausted…like the world beneath his feet shifted, and he was barely able to keep his balance. Buck aches to reach out for him, to offer the comfort he wasn’t able to give as he died, but he doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Doesn’t want to disturb him from the peace that he deserves after everything they just barely survived together.

Buck watches him for a little while - watches the way his brows furrow every now and then, and the way his nose twitches, and the way that his chest rises and falls. He looks beautiful still, even in his pain and exhaustion, and Buck is so grateful that he didn’t have to say goodbye to this man. His best friend. The love of his life.

As a tear slips from Buck’s eye and rolls down the side of his cheek, Eddie startles awake with a gasp. His eyes fly to Buck, and he immediately jumps out of his seat when he realises that he’s awake.

“Buck,” Eddie cries, as he reaches out to take Buck’s hand.

Buck laces their fingers together and pulls Eddie close, until he’s perched on the side of the bed. Then Buck watches as Eddie looks down at their joined hands and winces, squeezing his eyes closed against the memory of the last time they did this, as the water swallowed Buck.

“I’m okay,” Buck promises. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. “You were dead. You died, Buck,” he says.

A tear slides down Eddie’s cheek, and Buck can’t stop himself from catching it on the tip of his finger. Eddie turns into the touch and Buck cups his face, allowing his thumb to brush over the arch of his cheekbone. There’s a slight bruise there that he didn’t have earlier, so he must have gotten it when he was getting Buck out of the car.

“But you brought me back,” Buck whispers. The again is unspoken. He brought Buck back again, and the heaviness of that isn’t lost on him.

“I thought I’d lost you. If they’d arrived any later - if Ravi hadn’t…” Eddie’s voice breaks, and he can’t finish his sentence.

As his vision had started to fade, Buck vaguely remembers seeing a second figure through the haze of the water. He had thought he was imagining things as he slipped out of consciousness, but it must have been Ravi. And he remembers Hen in the ambulance, too - remembers her kind eyes and worried face, as Buck slurred Eddie’s name.

“But he did,” Buck reminds him. “They got there right on time, and Ravi came and got us out, and we’re okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t trust his voice to hold up. He takes a breath, and then another one, as the fingers of his free hand seek out Buck’s pulse point. He presses them against Buck’s wrist hard enough to leave a bruise, and Buck sees the way Eddie’s mouth moves as he counts the beats of Buck’s heart. He relaxes in increments, until a whole minute has passed and he realises that Buck’s pulse is steady. Strong. And then he sighs in relief.

“Chris?” Buck asks, when Eddie seems calmer.

“He’s with Maddie and Chim. They were here, all of them. But - but Chris and Jee were tired, so. So they took them home. I offered to stay,” Eddie explains. “I hope that’s okay.”

Buck smiles, and squeezes Eddie’s hand, and says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me,” Eddie says, laughing in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Eds. I’m so, so sorry.”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. He untangles their fingers but keeps hold of Buck’s hand, bringing it up to his face and pressing a kiss to his wrist, right above Buck’s fluttering pulse. Then he presses one to his open palm, before turning his hand over and kissing each one of Buck’s knuckles. He watches as one of Eddie’s tears drops onto the back of his hand, and the feel of it as it slides over Buck’s skin makes him tremble.

The gesture is so tender - so filled with love, and care, and devotion - that Buck can barely catch his breath. He doesn’t want this moment to end…doesn’t ever want Eddie to let go of him. They’re joined now, after all. Even more than they were before. Eddie’s breath is in Buck’s lungs; Buck’s heart is in Eddie’s chest.

“You breathed for me,” Buck whispers.

“Evan.” Eddie says his name like it’s holy. “I’ve been breathing for you since the day we met.”

A burst of joyous laughter bubbles out of Buck’s chest, and he can’t - doesn’t want to - stop himself, as the words, “I love you,” drip from his mouth like honey.

“Buck-”

“I had to tell you,” Buck says. “I couldn’t wait any longer. Couldn’t risk an earthquake, or a tornado, or a fucking asteroid stealing away my chance again. So. I love you.”

“Buck-”

“-is that okay? Or…”

“Are you gonna let me say it back, or are you planning to just keep talking over me?” Eddie asks, a smug smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Buck opens his mouth to say something else, but Eddie’s smile stretches into a knowing grin and Buck instantly clamps his lips together. He holds out his free hand and gestures for Eddie to continue, but Eddie snatches that hand up too, so he’s holding on tightly to both of them.

“I love you,” Eddie says, his voice so soft and reverential that Buck feels like he’s being prayed to. “I’m in love with you.”

Between the disbelief that he gets to have this, and the joy that he gets to have this, Buck feels peace. Right down to the very core of him, Buck simply feels settled. At home. Like he’s spent his entire life searching for this moment - for this man - and now that it’s happening, the last little piece of the puzzle is finally clicking into place. The stars, and the universe, and every good thing is the world aligned to make this happen…Buck knows it, because nothing this perfect could ever be a coincidence.

“Are you gonna kiss me then?” Buck asks.

Eddie laughs deep and bright; it burrows beneath Buck’s skin and replaces the sound of Eddie’s scream as Buck had slipped underwater.

“So demanding,” Eddie teases him.

But then he’s leaning forward, careful not to put any of his weight on Buck, and - finally - they’re kissing.

It’s not the first time Buck has tasted Eddie lips, but it’s certainly the best. The kiss is gentle, and slow, and as sweet as cotton candy. Eddie’s lips are soft but firm, and he takes charge like he’s an expert at this…like he’s been doing it his whole life, instead of it being his very first kiss with a man. Buck’s heart feels too big for his chest. He can feel the kiss in the tips of his fingers, and the base of his spine, and every single beat of his heart. It’s delicate, and beautiful, and lifechanging. Buck knows he’ll never be the same after this; there’s no going back now he knows what Eddie’s mouth tastes like - now he knows what his love feels like.

He giggles into the kiss because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, and Eddie pulls back but he doesn’t go far. He rests his forehead against Buck’s, breathes in Buck’s air like Buck had breathed in his, and he trails the back of his finger down the curve of Buck’s face. He feels precious in Eddie’s hands…feels worthy.

“I love you,” he says again, because he’s spent years swallowing it down and now, finally, he doesn’t have to anymore.

“I love you, too,” Eddie says, and it sounds like a promise of forever.