Chapter Text
0. prologue: fact on a bottle cap
In the dead of night, Buck wishes he didn’t know he’d already failed his purpose in this world without even getting the chance to try. Because being unable to save Daniel has, somehow, colored all his other mishaps into a different light. Not being able to accomplish the one most important task of his life has shaped itself into the underlying theme of his entire existence.
One primordial fault that turned all that he is, his every action, into a fight against failure. This, Buck thinks, is why he’s no longer surprised by his own shortcomings when they become apparent. It’s why he’s always been desperate to prove his parents wrong, a fact that has provided him with a plethora of experiences and half thought out decisions.
He’s used to being impulsive, brash and thoughtless with his own being, all to prove he has some sort of worth to the world - although that instinct has somewhat been tapered down during the years. Because of this, becoming a firefighter has been both a blessing and a curse.
Putting his life on the line to help others provided him with a sense of purpose unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The downside is… Well. Perhaps he’s had more near death experiences than normal, even for a first responder. If it’s the price he has to pay, then Buck’s glad he’s always come out the other side stronger for it.
The point is, he’s used to failure. He’s experienced plenty of it. It’s all his parents see when they look at him. Buck carries a string of them wherever he goes. Failed relationships, friendships, paths, decisions… During his off days, they’re all Buck thinks about, encompassing him whole, threatening to eat him alive.
Thankfully, bad days are now scarce and far in between. He’s preoccupied with a job he loves, friends that might as well be his family, his adorable niece and, of course, Eddie and Chris, who deserve a category all to themselves.
This means Buck has his hands full most of the time, and doesn’t often get a chance to dwell in the past. He’s trying to move forward, to make better decisions, to carve out a space for himself in this world, preferably one where he’s worth something to someone.
Sure, there are times when getting out of bed seems impossible, where all he wants to do is lay there and mull over the bad and the ugly of it all. Still, there’s always someone who needs him and that’s all it takes to push him forward.
It may not be a perfect life, but it’s one he’s built through a lot of effort, blood, sweat and tears. Throughout the years, he’s changed so much he’s become an entirely new person, but Buck’s has always been open to improving himself if it means he can be a better partner, friend, brother.
He sometimes feels like he’s walking the tightrope, running a balancing act of bulldozing all that he is and building himself anew time and time again, but still maintaining his most important relationships afloat. In the end, he can’t imagine doing anything else, and he’s not about to let anything tip the scale.
Buck’s fought for this before, tooth and nail. He’s not above doing it again.
1. false steps
“God, is it bad that I miss fighting actual fires?” Buck asks, head half buried inside the fridge.
“Probably,” Eddie mumbles from where leaning by the stove, watching the marinara sauce attently, “but I get what you mean.”
“I just don’t know how many more bizarre emergencies I can take,” Buck adds.
“The thing with the sharks was pretty weird,” Hen agrees, methodically chopping zucchini into tiny squares.
“Right,” Buck says, fishing out the juice carton from behind the station’s odd collection of tupperware, “and we weren’t even at the beach. I mean, we were practically on the set of sharknado.”
The others collectively wince at the memory. Buck closes the fridge with a little too much force, and moves to check on the boiling pasta. He unceremoniously shoves Eddie out of the way, and earns himself a glare for his troubles.
“Ugh,” Chimney groans, also not helping prep their meal, “I’ll be thinking of that for weeks.”
“I hope they managed to reattach that guy’s leg,” Eddie says. Buck cringes, placing the lid back on the pan. The pasta still needs a couple of minutes.
“I’m just glad we’ll never know for sure,” Hen contributes, moving on to carrots. “That way he’ll be fine in my mind.”
“I don't know if that’s a good mentality to have or if you’re just delusional,” Chimney says.
Hen snorts, “I don’t know about all that, but at least I sleep like a baby at night.”
“Fair enough,” Chim concedes. They spend a few moments in comfortable silence. Buck taps his feet, feeling restless after so many hours with no emergencies, then rubs his hands together.
“So, how’s that salad coming along?” he asks, suddenly.
Hen shoots him a dubious look, still chopping, “It’s… salad-y.”
“Good, that’s good,” Buck replies, garnering more curious looks. He winces, attempting to backtrack. “I just meant… Good salad.”
“Okay,” Chimney says, eyebrows raised, looking at Eddie, “what’s wrong with him?”
Eddie shrugs, “You mean besides the obvious?”
“...Hey!”
“Clearly,” Chimney ignores Buck’s flimsy protest.
“No idea, he’s been weird all morning,” Eddie shrugs.
Buck glares at them, moving the now fully cooked pasta toward the sink to drain, “I have not been weird. You’re the one who’s weird.”
“Oh, sure,” Chim rolls his eyes, “sounds exactly like what someone who’s acting normal would say.”
“I just…” Buck sighs. The others look at him expectantly. He finishes draining the pot, placing it in the sink before speaking.
“I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”
“That's new,” Eddie quips. Buck narrows his eyes at him, but carries on.
“Y’know… been considering giving the whole therapy thing another try,” he fidgets with the oven mitts nervously.
“Oh,” Eddie says, caught off guard. Hen and Chim exchange meaningful looks.
“That’s great, Buck,” Hen says, supportive as always, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah,” Chim agrees, “we could all do with a little more of that.”
Buck nods, not taking his eyes off Eddie, whose expression looks more like a clean slate, “I mean, I have this meeting with a new therapist later this afternoon, and I guess I’m a bit...”
“Nervous?” Hen asks gently.
“You could say that,” he says, “the last few times weren’t exactly the best.”
“Well,” Eddie interjects, mouth twisting, “you gotta remember you’re the one calling the shots. If you don’t like ‘em, then it’s done.”
“That simple, huh?” Buck snorts.
“I think what Eddie’s trying to say,” Hen says, all carefully putting the chopped vegetables aside, “is that you don’t have to worry. If there’s no connection, or if you don’t feel comfortable at any point… You can always choose someone else.”
“Right,” Buck nods, breathing out with force, taking off the mitts, “makes sense.”
Chimney moves over to him, lightly clapping him on the back. “It’ll be okay, Buck. We’re here if you need us.”
“Thanks,” he replies, a bit bashful.
“If it goes really badly and you need a rescue operation, send us a text. Codeword is rebar,” Chim says, making them all chuckle. Buck watches the way Eddie’s posture relaxes little by little with some curiosity.
“Alright,” the man interrupts, “We love and support you, Buck. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”
Chimney snorts, “I’ll set the table.” He squeezes Buck’s shoulder as he walks by, and Buck smiles at the nonchalant gesture.
“I’ll sauce the pasta,” Buck offers, moving to get the marinara.
“I’ll finish the salad dressing,” Hen says.
“I’ll…” Eddie sighs, looking comically bereft, “sit down to eat, I guess.”
Buck laughs, relieved to have switched topics so easily. He’s thinking of a subtle way to thank Eddie for it but, before he can, they’re interrupted from their respective tasks by the bell ringing.
They all groan in unisson. So much for a quiet lunch.
2.face first
…We have reports of two houses fully involved…
“Eddie-” Buck pleads as soon as they’re back at the station, voice cracking. The others give them a wide berth. Everyone knows how this goes.
“Not now,” Eddie says, pushing past him toward the bunk room. Buck follows suit.
“Eddie, please listen-”
“I said not now!” Eddie turns around, hands flying, eyes a bit wild. Buck takes a cautious step back. “God, do you have any idea-?”
“I’m sorry-”
…Oh God, there’s someone still inside…!
“Oh, yeah, I bet you’re real sorry,” Eddie hisses. Buck’s eyes sting. “That’s what you said last time, and guess what? You did it again.”
“I know but, Eddie, the woman-”
“There you go!” Eddie says, “The woman this, the woman that. She had no shot, Buck!”
…Get out, get out, get the fuck out…!
“I know!” Buck exclaims.
“They why-!”
“Because it’s my job to give her one! She deserved a chance!” Buck runs a still shaking hand through his hair. His nail beds are covered in soot.
“Oh, please!” Eddie begs him, “Explain to me how rushing into a situation with no plan in sight is the same as giving her a chance!”
“I had a plan! If I had more time, I could’ve-”
…flames pushing in at a high velocity…
“Well, you didn’t!” Eddie interrupts, voice rising, “You went against a direct order and risked your life. Again. How is that a plan, exactly? ‘Cause it sure doesn't look like one to me.”
“I got out, Eddie, God!” Buck groans, throwing his hands up for good measure, “You’re acting like I’m half dead in some hospital bed but here I am, all in one piece!”
Eddie laughs, sardonic, “Oh yeah, you’re fine. But you could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Buck!”
“I wasn’t.”
“You could’ve died,” Eddie chokes out.
“I didn’t,” Buck reassures him.
They stare at each other for a beat, feelings rushing through their bodies like electricity on a live wire.
“You don’t get to do that anymore,” Eddie says with certainty. Buck sighs, shaking his head.
“You know I can’t promise that.”
“Then don’t.” Eddie looks exhausted. “I won’t let you try that shit again either way.”
“You can’t stop me from doing my job.”
“Watch me,” Eddie challenges, eyebrows set on an angry slope.
“Eddie,” Buck warns, but that’s enough to get the other man going again.
“Just quit it! God, how many times do I have to watch you die? How many times will I have to tell Christopher that you…?” Eddie trails off. He looks gutted.
“Oh, that’s rich,” Buck says, ignoring the alarms blaring in his head, “have I not done the same for you?”
“That was different.”
“Oh was it? Because it sure didn’t seem like it to me-”
“Stop…”
“-Not when I was holding in whatever blood you had left with my bare hands.”
“...I said stop!” Eddie exclaims. They’re both too angry to have this conversation. They’re going to, anyway. “You don’t get to use that against me. Not you.”
“Funny,” Buck says, “seems like you were doing the same thing to me.”
“I wasn’t…”
“I didn’t choose to get struck by lightning any more than you chose to get shot.” Buck watches as Eddie’s shoulders drop. He sees the way his posture changes, his bravado melting away. “Meanwhile, you’re the one who goes around cutting your line every chance that you get.”
“Buck,” Eddie pleads.
“No,” he shakes his head, “we go out there and we give chances to people who don’t have any left. Sometimes we’re someone’s last hope, but if we do our jobs right…”
“Right,” Eddie huffs, “this whole conversation’s been about firefighting.”
“What do you mean?” Buck frowns. Eddie sighs, posture loosening further.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, turning away from Buck, “just get some rest, Buck.”
“Wha- Eddie!” Buck calls out to him, but goes ignored. It takes him a couple seconds to recalibrate but, once he does, he marches toward the bunk room, intent on finishing their conversation.
He finds Eddie slumped on one of the beds, head resting on his hands. He looks up when Buck comes in, letting out a loud groan.
“Can we not do this here?” He begs.
“Sure, if you step outside,” Buck offers. Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Funny.”
Buck doesn’t rise to it. “I’m sorry for what I said, about you getting shot.”
“I know,” Eddie nods. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”
Buck takes their reluctant truce as an opportunity to sit down across from him, their legs bumping against each other.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” he says. Eddie tucks his chin close to his chest.
“It’s fine,” he answers automatically, but Buck disagrees.
“It’s not. I’ve been trying to do better, I just…”
“Your body moves before you think.”
“Yeah, well,” Buck snorts, “I’m the real heroic type.” Eddie chuckles. They sit in silence for a moment.
“I promised myself I was done with careless stunts the moment you put me in your will,” Buck says, “but bad habits can be hard to break.”
“You’re telling me,” Eddie commiserates, snorting to himself.
“Huh?”
“I just mean…” he sighs, “I understand. And I don’t fault you for it. I just wish…”
“You wish for me to not have a gruesome, violent death?” Buck tries to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.
“Yeah, Buck.” Eddie says, completely serious, staring down at his hands. “That’s… Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Eddie raises his head, eyeing him curiously. “You can’t possibly be surprised by that.”
“I’m not!” Buck’s quick to assure him. “I just…”
“Buck,” Eddie sighs, “We’re a unit, you and me.”
“Partners,” Buck agrees, earnest, “I know, Eds.”
Eddie looks at him for a moment. Two.
“Partners,” he says. “Don’t you forget it.”
“I won’t,” Buck promises.
“Good,” Eddie groans, throwing himself backwards on the bed. “Now go to sleep or get out, I’m exhausted.”
Buck lays down as well with a deep sigh. They’re covered in soot and smell like a wildfire but…
Well, a nap couldn’t hurt.