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The only thing Buck is aware of, aside from the ringing in his ears, is Eddie’s presence right next to him, so close that he can even feel Eddie’s body warmth through his clothes, their shoulders brushing every second that passes by as they both shake in their places.
It's the shock, Buck thinks. It must be. Because Eddie is holding his hand hard and tight, to the point of pain, as if Buck is his lifeline.
They are covered in soot, staring at the plane as if they weren't even truly present. It's weird. He feels the pain, but at the same, he doesn't. It's distant and dull, like Buck is separated from his body and watching from the outside, blocked by a wall or as if he's underwater. It's like he's watching a creepy, horrible TV show— fuzzy at the edges and looking more and more like a fever dream.
He needs to move. Needs to do something, anything. But—
He can still feel the flames on his face, Eddie yelling desperately for him, pulling and pushing at Buck's stupid belt that refused to come off. He can still remember the way his life flashed right in front of his eyes, the feeling of imminent death clawing and twisting inside of him, tightening around his heart in a vicious grip that left him breathless and gasping.
Even that feels distant now. Like it happened years ago, to someone else, and not literally five minutes ago.
In the end, Eddie is the one who snaps first. Buck isn't sure if it's been just a few seconds since they ran out of the plane, nearly avoiding an explosion that would've for sure killed them, or if it's been minutes. Maybe hours.
Probably just a few seconds, Buck thinks. Eddie's always been good at keeping it together in high stress situations— that's why they're here in the first place, because Diaz got them a place in Nationals. Eddie’s always been the man in the storm, or however that saying goes.
“Hey, you with me? C'mon, Buck.” Suddenly, Buck blinks and Eddie is all up on his face, patting his cheek and staring at him with wide, worried eyes.
“Yo– you're bleeding,” Buck says quietly, voice dull and hoarse as he slowly lifts a trembling hand and his fingers ghost over Eddie’s temple, staining his fingertips red.
Eddie flinches—not from the touch, but from the reminder. He lifts a hand to where Buck’s fingers just were and grimaces as they come away slick with blood. But instead of pulling away, he wraps his other hand around Buck’s wrist, grounding both of them.
“It’s nothing,” he says, and it sounds like a lie. But Buck doesn’t call him out on it, because really, it is nothing compared to what could’ve happened in there.
“I thought—” Buck cuts himself off. His throat feels like it’s been scraped raw by smoke and panic. “I thought we weren’t gonna make it.”
Eddie’s grip tightens. “Yeah. Me too.”
“We'll be alright, Eddie.” He isn't sure if he believes those words, they sound empty coming out of his mouth, but they're all he can offer at the moment. Maybe if he wishes it hard enough, they'll become true.
“Guys!” Hen's voice breaks their little spell and they both jump as if they'd been burned. “Over here! We need help to get Coach Nash down from a tree.”
Jesus fucking Christ, Buck thinks, probably for the millionth time in the last half an hour.
–
Bobby, their coach, barely avoided death. A tree cushioned his fall, but not without a cost— a stab wound to his side, something they all feel a pit of dread in their stomachs when they think about it. Buck's not sure how long they'll be here until they get rescued. But it has to be soon, right? Once people notice their absence at Nationals, everyone will be looking for them.
So far, they've lost the pilot and a couple of teammates. No one's Buck's been particularly close to, and guilt settles deep in his bones as he feels grateful that none of the people he cares about are deeply hurt beyond help. If Eddie had been…. Buck can't even bear the idea of it, the mere thought sends shivers down his spine and makes his eyes sting with tears.
They could've died today. Their plane crashed and they could've died. The realization keeps hitting like a sucker punch every couple of seconds, and he wonders if the sickening feeling will ever fade out.
They make a campfire— paltry and pathetic, but it's better than sleeping inside the plane ruins. It would be too cold, even if it would offer some sort of shelter against possible animals. (Buck is trying real hard not to think about every documentary about wild life he's ever seen.)
He's definitely not thinking about how Grizzly bears account for the most human deaths. Or how wolves can rip out his throat in seconds. Are there even grizzly bears here? Where is here anyways? His mind races and spirals, only calming down a tad bit when Eddie leans against him heavily.
Usually they would keep the PDA at a minimum. They're not even dating, really— more like, friends with benefits? Or whatever. Buck's been trying to play it cool. But he guesses out here, when they all are starving and terrified out of their minds, it doesn't matter anyway.
They’ve been silent for a while, passing around snacks from the bar cart. Ravi is using a stick to draw in the dirt like some dera fed toddler and Buck would laugh, if he wasn't still reeling from almost dying in a fucking explosion.
“Maddie is gonna freak out,” Buck blurts out after a while. His sister— Fuck, she could've been there. (Chimney tried to convince Bobby to let Maddie come with all of them, but she isn't part of the team and she prefered to stay home and prepare for finals.)
Chim snorts a little. but Buck doesn't miss his stiff shoulders and the sad turn of his lips. “I'm glad she isn't here, though.”
“Do you think they're looking for us already?”
“They must be,” Bobby grunts, speaking for the first time in hours. “We should've been at the hotel hours ago. And I told Athena I would call her as soon as we got there and settled in. Someone must have noticed we're missing by now.”
Buck cuddles closer to Eddie, almost burying his head against the guy's neck and sighs, closing his eyes. Now that the adrenaline has mostly left his system, he feels exhausted— even though he knows none of them are going to get any rest at all tonight.
Eddie's fingers on his hair are comforting, though, and makes Buck's worries quiet down to a distant murmur for now.
Kissing Eddie, breathing into each other’s mouths, feeling each other’s warmth, it's basically the one good thing out here in the middle of fucking nowhere. It's Buck’ little safe heaven in the midst of this fucking hell.
Buck huffs out a small, breathless chuckle and leans against a tree, the rough texture digging into his back making it a hard contrast with Eddie’s softness caging him in from the front. It's been a couple of weeks since they crashed, and thankfully they've found an abandoned cabin to take shelter in, but alone time with Eddie’ been the one thing keeping Buck sane and grounded to reality.
Eddie huffs a tiny breath and Buck's thoughts turn into background noise, his body leaning without his permission into Eddie's space.
Fuck it feels good when Eddie licks into his mouth, his whole body tingling from the point of contact, like Eddie is some kind of illicit drug Buck is already getting hooked on. A very small, tiny part of him kind of doesn't want to come home, not if things will go back to how they were before the accident. Out here in the wilderness, Eddie’s… more free. More relaxed. as strange as it sounds. At least when it comes to their relationship.
Back home, Eddie's been worried about his family's reaction to him dating a boy . And it dictated a lot of what they did. Buck tried to be understanding and supportive and just accept any tiny piece that Eddie was willing to give him, but man, it stung.
Here, things are different.
He shifts so Eddie is between his legs and their dicks brush against each other through their clothes. The friction is tortuous and delicious at the same time. Buck can hardly help the way he moans back, cupping Eddie's cheeks in his hands and kissing him that much harder.
He’s panting when they finally break apart, his heart racing to catch up with his thoughts.
“They sent us to get water,” Eddie pants. “They must be wondering what's taking so long.”
“C'mon, Eds. By now they all know what’s going on here,” Buck laughs and kisses him again.
“Still,” Eddie protests, but most of it is muffled when Buck kisses him again. And again. And again.
They make out for a few more minutes, but hard earned experience has taught them that anything beyond that surrounded by dirt and possible poisonous ivy or plants is too messy for it to be worth it, so they stop after a while.
Buck can't bring himself to care, though, not when he gets to hold Eddie’s hand on their way to the lake.
Maddie tries to hold back tears as she reads the headline. But for the last month and a half, she's done nothing but cry. You would think she would've ran out of tears by now, that her body couldn't give anymore… but they just keep coming. She would be at the grocery store line and would burst into actual sobs, much to the dismay of everyone around her. Or in class, the professor would say something and she would think about the way Chimney would've leaned in and whispered in her ear something witty and funny, and Maddie would breakdown all over again because she might not ever get that magic back again.
She wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, calling for her little brother. She can't go into his room without having a panic attack, or falling to her knees in despair. Her parents… they don't really seem to care— Maddie swears her mother is almost relieved , and the thought makes pure hatred pool in her stomach.
She's lost the two most important people in her life in just the blink of an eye and now she's left adrift, alone, swimming through life in a haze.
The worst part is not knowing. She goes down to the police station for updates everyday, talks to Bobby Nash's wife at lunch, where they mostly talk and share memories of their boys, Maddie holds on to those instants fiercely, and holds onto the dream that they might come home someday. Soon.
She looks down to the paper in her hands, her fingers tracing the outline of Chimney’s face, his smile and the wrinkles that always form next to his eyes. She traces Buck's face, his curls, his eyes.
She writes letters to Chimney sometimes, with prayers that he's okay wherever he is, and with plans for their future. They'll get married someday, she writes— They're both young and everyone might think they're crazy, but Maddie’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.
And she talks to Buck. Everyday. She goes into their backyard, sits down under the tree Buck climbed when they were kids (and then fell and broke his arm) and tells him about her day, about university, vents about their parents… she even talks about Daniel.
“You're alive,” she whispers into the air, preaches to the silence. “ You have to be. Because Daniel is protecting us, from wherever he is, and he wouldn't let you die. He wouldn't let me lose another brother. Not again. So just— hurry back home, yeah? You're giving your poor sister grey hairs, jerk.” Maddie laughs, weak and wetly as she hugs her knees close to her chest.
She cries. And she aches. And she hopes.
Buck isn't sure how long it's been, but he knows it's been too damn long. Everything was… fine. At first, they were surviving, but too much time in the wilderness was messing with all of their heads.
The days only become shorter as they pass by. Hen is tracking the days based on how much MCAT practice she completes, but the date grows more and more questionable as the weeks continue on. Regardless, they know they are in the throes of winter purely based on how lengthy the nights are, and the fact that it never seems to get any warmer. Sleep is Buck's best friend right now, especially considering his relationship with Eddie is hanging by a fucking thread.
It's been going downhill since a week or so ago, when Jonah died and the majority of the ones left voted to eat him. Buck's the only one who refused— and then it resulted in a screaming match with Eddie, for some insane reason.
After that, Buck doesn't think a day has gone by where they haven't been at each other’s throats, fighting and throwing low punches, spitting out vicious words— Buck doesn't even mean half of it! But it's like a car accident happening, you can't stop it, you can't reverse, you can't do anything but let it happen and hope that the collision doesn't destroy you.
Most of the times, Buck feels like he isn't even there, like he's watching from above as he drives his relationship to the fucking ground and buries it six feet under, just for good measure.
It's the hunger, Buck thinks. And the non-existent morale. And the fact at this point all hopes of ever being rescued have flown out the damn window.Itx's numerous factors and things that has everyone on edge and that has Buck and Eddie at odds.
He never thought they wouldn't be a team, the two of them. Since the very first day, besides complications or whatever, it's always been them against everyone else. Buck isn't sure what to do now that that seems to be over.
“You know what? I can't even look at you,” Buck snarls. His heart is begging him to shut the fuck up, but is like his mouth has a mind of its own, like someone else is at the wheel while he watches helplessly and powerless from the backseat. “I can't look at any of you!” He yells and storms outside, not before grabbing a useless blanket.
He knows it's a mistake before he even closes the door behind him. He knows he's being stupid and reckless and an asshole when he feels his steps sink a few centimetres into the snow, when his nose burns as he breathes in the cold, unforgiving winter.
He knows he's being the dumbest guy on Earth as he stubbornly sits his ass on a slug and tries to make a fire for himself, hands shaking and the blanket around him feeling like it barely helps to warm him at all.
Maybe it's better like this. I'll die of hypothermia and then they can eat me too, he thinks not without a fair amount of bitterness. But also… he doesn't know how to describe it, his energy is so low that even thinking at all feels like the hardest task in the universe, but a part of him believes he's responsible for all of this.
Eddie, Hen and Chim were all going to quit the team— medical school, nursing school, finals, they all had such busy schedules that training on top of that was overwhelming and not worth the effort. Buck convinced them to stay. The least he can do is feed them, right? Sacrifice himself or whatever? He doesn't think he can survive out here much longer anyways. Might as well be useful.
He's probably delusional. He read somewhere that starving can make you delirious, can cause your thoughts to drift away from you. Is that's what's happening?
“Baby,” Eddie's soft, gentle voice reels him back in and Buck's gaze darts to the cabin's entrance. Is Eddie real or just an hallucination that Buck’s starving mind conjured up for some sort of comfort. It's the first time in days that Buck can see something aside from frustration and contempt in Eddie’s eyes— not they're just full of regret and regret. Maybe a hint of love lurking just under the surface?
Eddie hasn't called him baby for even longer, and just the sound of it, even if it’s fake, has Buck on the verge of tears.
“Buck, come back inside.” Eddie calls and takes a few steps closer, hesitant and tentative.
Buck blinks, feeling lethargic and fuzzy around the edges. Is he even real? Did he die already?
“Please,” Eddie says, and when Buck opens his eyes again, Eddie’s right in front of him, his gloved hand reaching over to Buck and eyes pleading. When did he get so close? Can he come closer? Buck sways in place and would have completely fallen straight into the snow if it wasn't for Eddie catching him.
“Please,” Eddie repeats, voice breaking as a single, lonely tear streams down his cheek. He's pale and his nose is all pink and adorable, Buck's lips twitch into a fragile, ghostly smile.
“Okay,” he croakes out and lets the guy pull him, letting Eddie bear most of Buck's weight as he practically drags him back inside.
Once everyone's made sure Buck is okay and have fed him some insipid, leather soup they made from their belts, he's left to lay on top of Eddie in front of the fireplace. His entire body is tingly, as it slowly comes back to life and warms back again, and he's lulled into a strange limbo in between dream and reality by Eddie’s heartbeat playing right in his ear.
“I'm sorry,” he forces his mouth to move, slurring his words and worrying Eddie wouldn't hear him or understand him.
“It's okay,” Eddie sighs and Buck feels the phantom sensation of a kiss at the top of his head. “We're okay.”
They're not. But Buck lets himself live in the lie, at least for right now. At least then, with the blankets weighing him down and Eddie’s warm breath fanning against his forehead and temples.
The jingle of the door of that little, hole-on-the-wall foner brings back years of memories for Buck. That's where he gathered Chimney and Maddie and told them to take their heads out of their asses and just date already, and it's the same place where Buck realized he wanted Eddie Diaz as more of a friend— sitting on the booth in the corner and watching as Eddie stuffed a whole as burger inside his mouth on just one bite, cheese and grease dripping down his chin and making Buck laugh so hard he snorted soda out of his nose.
They'd been back seventeen months now, and he doesn't know how he's never actually made it there until now.
Ravi's cousin, who's now manager of the place, smiles at him and Buck vaguely waves in his direction, but his attention is quickly monopolized by Eddie sitting in that same booth from a lifetime ago. The light coming through the glass window hits him just right as to make it look like a halo of sunshine surrounds him and his eyes are so wide and honey warm as the first time Buck saw them, it kicks the breath right out of his lungs in a swoop and for a second he thinks he might faint on the spot.
For a few heavenly, amazing seconds, Buck forgets what happened out there in the wilderness— forgets the heartache, the horrors they went through and the ones they created on their own, the crimes they committed when civilization was far, far away from their sights. For a few divine seconds, none of it exists and Buck can pretend this is their first date out in the real world.
He shakes himself off the stupor and finishes walking the last steps until he's right in front of Eddie, sliding into the booth opposite of him.
“Hey,” he rasps out, suddenly feeling nervous. This is the first time they've seen each other, they've been alone since they've been rescued. That's on Buck, though. Or maybe also some of the blame lies on Eddie. Whatever. Who cares? They're there now.
“Hey,” Eddie parrots back and then seems to brace himself, hands twitching on top of the table, like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching for Buck. “You look good,” Eddie swallows hard and Buck's gaze tracks the bob of his adams apple. “Healthier.”
“Yeah.”
“Buck—”
“I just— I know we have to talk about… so much,” Buck chuckles warily and runs a stressed hand through his hair, messing up the perfect curls that took him three hours to arrange. “And work through a lot of shit. And,” he licks his lips and makes himself hold eye contact. “Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. but— I just want to let you know that I've missed you. A lot. And even though everything is so fucked and messed up and complicated, I think… I know , I'm still in love with you. That is the one thing that still remains true, that is still real. ”
Buck's voice catches and he has to gather himself before continuing, but he's rehearsed these words in front of the mirror far too many times to give up now.
“At least to me. So, uh, yeah.”
He holds his breath for a few seconds, lets Eddie oroxess his words, and just as he's starting to think he won't get an answer or that he's about to be rejected in the most heartbreaking, devastating way possible… Eddie bursts out laughing, but it's an airy and relieved sound. Giddy. Contagious.
“Oh, thank God.”
Eddie’s hand finally reaches for Buck’s and they interlace their fingers almost automatically, so naturally it's like they were born to do it.
“I'm in love with you, too. I was scared you hated me, or—”
“I could never.” Buck shakes his head vehemently. “I just needed… time, I think. Uh, to reassess? Not us, but like, everything.”
“I know,” Eddie says softly. And Buck doesn't doubt for a second that Eddie does know. He's always known Buck better than Buck knows himself, probably.
“And I want to make this work. I know some time has passed, but—”
“I'm in, Buckley.” Eddie smiles, this time brighter and stronger than all of his previous ones. “I'm all in.”
So Buck relaxes back and starts filling Eddie in on all the gaps of Buck's life he's missed in the last months. (“Did Chim tell you I dropped out of college? Yeah, I became a firefighter.” “Bobby's restaurant is right in front of my station, you should stop by someday.” “I'm still a probie but I've done some awesome rescues, dude, you have no idea.”)
He thinks there's still a darkness lingering inside of them, something they took from the wilderness and that will follow them for the rest of their lives. Nothing is magically fixed. But— Buck thinks they'll be alright. And for the first time since the crash, he actually believes it.