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At first, Eddie was mad at Buck because he filed the lawsuit. They were close, talked about almost everything with each other. But the lawsuit came out of absolutely nowhere for Eddie.
He was hurt, but he could see Buck's side a little bit after it settled, then personal things that had nothing to do with the truck bombing got dragged into it, Shannon's death, for example.
Honestly, he could've handled that given some time. But the distance, silence from Buck, orders by his lawyer, was the worst.
Eddie missed Buck. He didn't realize how much of a presence Buck had in his life until he wasn't at work, or sleeping on his couch, or cooking them all dinner.
Chris missed Buck too. That might've been the worst of it all. How do you explain all that to a child? Telling a kid who just lost his mom that he can't see one of few adults he trusts and loves.
Chris had nightmares almost every night. And all Eddie could do was hold him as he cried. Couldn't call Buck to reassure his kid he was alive, couldn't bring him over to see him.
It all settled heavily in his chest as anger.
Buck looked so regretful in the grocery store, clutching cat laxative to his chest, but Eddie was pissed, and he was tired, and his body hurt from jointing an illegal underground fighting ring.
Buck said it was one of the worst mistakes he ever made, wanted to undo everything. He said he would call off the lawsuit.
But he didn't. Just as Eddie was going to forgive him, or at least working his way to it, Bobby got the call.
Buck had gone through with the lawsuit, won a disgusting amount of money, and would probably never be hired at any LA firehouse, let alone California, maybe the entire country.
He never contacted anyone at the 118, barely called or texted Maddie, according to Chim. Never showed up once, never left an apology note at the absolute least. Nothing.
Eddie hung on to it for a while, considered calling Buck up himself, cursing him out, maybe taking a swing at him. He probably wouldn't, quit the fighting ring and any violence at all after nearly killing a man.
Then, about two months after Buck won the lawsuit, Chris was late to school, having spent about half the night sobbing into Eddie's chest after his first nightmare in almost three weeks.
He drops Chris off at the front office, almost walks him to class door himself but holds himself back, and climbs into his truck.
Eddie punches the steering wheel once, gets embarrassed when it honks, and drives off, turning right out of the parking lot instead of left.
He takes the stairs at Buck's apartment building, hoping it would burn off some of the anger thrumming through his veins.
He doesn't need to completely lose it on Buck, just enough to get his point across.
Eddie pounds his fist on the door. It's almost ten in the morning, he saw Buck's jeep outside, and it's not like there's a job he'd be at.
"Buck!" Eddie shouts. He distantly hopes the neighbors don't hear him. "I know you're in there."
He waits a good thirty seconds then presses his ear to the door. He knocks again, louder this time.
"You can't hide from me!"
Eddie really hopes the neighbors don't hear him, think he's a burglar or something and call the cops.
He listens in again. Nothing. He knocks one more time then pulls his keys out. He still has the key to Buck's loft and he never asked for it back.
"Fine, I'm coming in!"
Eddie opens the door and feels some of his anger evaporate.
There's dirty dishes all over the kitchen counters and coffee table, piles of clothes in the corners, dust gathering over the tv.
Maybe he's gotten lazy in his rise with money.
"Buck?"
Eddie steps in and closes the door behind him. He cautiously walks through the room and up the stairs.
All his anger becomes full blown terror, body freezing and limb locking as he sees Buck, half slumped over on his side, lying on a wet patch next to a puddle of vomit.
And all he can think is that Buck's dead, and Eddie's going to have to pull his kid out of school and sit him down and say, hey, you know how after all your nightmares I would reassure you that Buck was alive? Well I lied, he died all alone and now I really am all you have.
"Buck?" Eddie asks quietly, feeling like a little kid at the foot of their parent's bed in the middle of the night.
He can't move. All he can do is stare at the dead body of his best friend and wonder how long it's been sitting there.
Then Buck's finger twitches and Eddie's halfway across the room, crawling onto the bed, fingertips pressing into Buck's neck, ignoring whatever fluids are seeping into his pants.
He feels the weak pulse and lets out a heavy breath. He taps lightly at Buck's pale, cold cheeks.
"Buck, hey, hey, wake the fuck up. Now!"
Buck's eyes flutter open. They seem dazed and unfocused even as his gaze settles on Eddie.
"Eds?" Buck mumbles, sounding like he hasn't spoken in weeks.
"Yeah, it's me," Eddie breathes out. "We're going to the hospital."
Eddie's imagining the worst right now. Overdose, both accidental and purposeful, heart attack, stroke, seizure, diabetic coma, hepatitis.
Buck blinks at him slowly, shaking his head once in each direction.
"No... No hospitals."
Eddie wants to shake some sense into him, but he's not entirely sure that Buck would survive it, and that thought terrifies him.
"Yes, hospital. Buck, we ha–"
"I have cancer."
Everything comes to a halting stop.
These past months, hell this past year, has gone by so fast.
Shannon was back, then a moment later she was dying in the back of an ambulance, and Buck was being crushed by a fire engine, and Buck's ready to go back to work but he's spitting blood up in Bobby and Athena's back yard, and there's a tsunami and Buck's there with Chris' glasses, and Eddie has Chris in his arms, and Buck's filing a lawsuit.
Then things slowed down–Buck won the lawsuit, took the money, Chris can't sleep through the night, and Eddie barely can either– went so achingly slow these past two months Eddie was sure he was going insane.
Everything sped up again on the drive to Buck's loft, from the moment he got back into truck to the second he was smacking Buck's face, entirely sure he was gone.
Now, Eddie's pretty sure his heart isn't even beating anymore.
The earth isn't spinning, the clouds are stagnant in the sky, nothings moving, nothings happening, no breath is leaving Eddie's lungs.
"What?" Eddie hears someone say. It was him, that's his voice, isn't it?
It all comes crashing back. A car alarm is going off somewhere down the street, a neighbor is playing their music too loud, he's pretty sure a cat is scratching at Buck's kitchen window.
"I have cancer," Buck says again.
Eddie takes it in, Buck's sunken eyes, his gaunt cheeks, the way his vomit covered shirt hangs too loose, how he has a barely grown out buzz cut. He's already doing treatments, or done them even.
"I–" Eddie rubs a thumb softly over Buck's birthmark. It looks so red against his pale skin. "Let's get you cleaned up."
It's a complete 180 from what Eddie expected on the drive over here, but he can't think about it too much or he'll snap.
Buck looks at him weirdly. "You mad?" He sounds guilty, like what a dog looks like after it eats the trash and knows it shouldn't have.
It feels like a punch to the stomach. He's not mad. He's– Eddie's not sure what he is right now.
"I'm not mad. Promise," Eddie chokes out.
Eddie slips his arms around Buck's back, heart nearly slamming out of his chest when he realizes he can feel Buck's spine so clearly, and pulls him up so he's sitting.
Buck lets out a weak groan against Eddie's shoulder, arms lying limp at his sides. Eddie gets a hand under Buck's knees and spins him so his feet touch the floor.
Buck's face turns a little green and Eddie steadies him. He's wondering how he'll get the trash can over here while still holding Buck up, considering for a second that Buck might just have to puke on the floor.
Buck clenches his jaw shut, blinks with glassy eyes at his legs. He waits a full minute until Buck's face relaxes as he nods.
Eddie throws Buck's arm over his shoulder and hauls them to their feet. They walk slowly to Buck's bathroom, Eddie holding almost all of his weight, which isn't what it used to be.
He slowly lowers Buck on the closed toilet lid. His heart does something funny– like someone's wrapped a belt buckle around it and pulled as hard as they could– when he sees the wet patch over Buck's crotch.
Buck must see him looking and his hands come up to cover his face as he hunches in on himself.
Eddie drops to his knees. He gently tugs at Buck's elbows, guiding his hands away. Buck refuses to look at him, eyes firmly set on the corner of the bathroom.
"Hey. It's okay." It's not okay. None of this is fucking okay. "It's not your fault."
Buck doesn't say anything, eyes unmoving from the corner. Eddie stands up and starts to gently tug at hem of Buck's shirt.
He doesn't have to say anything, Buck just lifts his arms up as Eddie pulls it off. Helping Buck out of his pants and boxers is awkward with one hand, but he gets it done.
Eddie throws his shoes off to the side after taking them off. His socks and the rest of his clothes follow.
It should be weird, having another man's naked body pressed against his own as he leads them into the shower, but it isn't. It's just Buck.
They're practically hugging at this point, but Buck's arms still stay unmoving at his sides, like he can't bring himself to touch Eddie directly, even with his face tucked into Eddie's neck.
The water is hitting Buck's back, and Eddie leans forward so it reaches his head, ignoring the stray streams the hit him in the face.
Eddie grabs Buck's shampoo and starts to rub a generous amount into Buck's scalp, even though his hair is too short to really need it.
Buck's arms suddenly wrap around his torso, as tightly as he can manage in his state.
A sob echos through the bathroom.
Eddie leaves a hand on Buck's head, soothing over the nape of his neck, as the other drops down to his back, rubbing circles over and over.
"Oh, baby," Eddie's voice cracks. He'll worry about the implications of that later. "It's okay. I've got you."
Buck practically melts into his touch, sobbing into his neck.
Tears stream down his face as he tries not to wonder about what would have happens if he didn't show up today. Instead what comes to mind is how long Buck was there, how long after that spent sitting in his own piss and vomit, unable to make himself move.
"I got you."
Eddie wants to promise that he'll be okay, that he'll make it through this, but he can't. He has no idea what will happen, how Buck's cancer will react to the chemo, how long that will last.
He can't make the promise to Buck. He can't make that promise to himself.
Instead he does something stupid, impulsive, kisses the side of Buck's head, his ear, the exposed bits of cheek and jaw line.
"You're not alone. I'm right here." Buck trembles against him. "It's okay, baby."
"Eddie," Buck whimpers. He sounds so weak. "I'm sorry."
Eddie almost rolls his eyes. He stops himself at the last second but it's a close thing.
He ignores Buck for a moment, leaning forward again so the water washes the shampoo away. He combs conditioner through his hair.
"Why?" Eddie whispers. He starts to rub soap across Buck's back.
"I should've told you."
Eddie has too many things he wants to say in response. He wants to yell, demand to know why he didn't tell anyone, tell him he understands why, ask how he didn't lose his mind going through all this alone.
He settles on, "I'm not mad. I promised that."
Buck lets out a soft laugh. Eddie pushes him away so he can soap down his chest and the front of his legs, but he still keeps a hand firmly wrapped around Buck's thinning bicep.
"You can't break a promise," Buck says.
"I know." Eddie tilts him so the water can wash away the soap. "That's why I made it."
Buck looks at him, eyes half closed with pure exhaustion, like Eddie's about to push him over and storm out, yelling that he was lying.
He shuts the shower off and rips the curtain back before Buck can argue. He gets out first and keeps both hands on Buck's arm as he helps him out.
Buck clenches his eyes shut as he's left standing on his bad lag for as long as it takes to get one foot out of the tub.
Eddie grabs a towel, wraps it around Buck's waist, and settles him on the toilet lid as quickly as he can.
He turns to get a towel for himself and flushes when he sees there's nothing there. He should've prepped in advance.
Buck snorts at him. Eddie roots through the bathroom closet and wraps a towel around himself and while he's halfway there, sorts through Buck's dresser for enough clothes for them both.
He drops the clothes on the counter and grabs another small towel from the closet.
Eddie wipes Buck's face dry and starts in on his hair. He expects Buck to argue or pull away, but all he does is lean into the touch with his eyes closed.
He must be so tired to let Eddie do this with no complaints, or in so much pain he doesn't care what's going on around him anymore.
Buck is a little more helpful at getting himself dressed than he was getting undressed.
Eddie tries so hard not to focus on how loose Buck's clothes are on him, how just a few months ago they would be straining at the seams. He distracts himself with the relief that fills his body as he smells Buck's scent as he pulls a shirt over his head.
He had no idea out could even miss a smell until now.
Eddie can tell that Buck's biting back cries of pain as they hobble down the stairs, taking nearly a full minute for each step.
"I know," Eddie says after Buck lets out a particularly hard gasp. "We're almost there."
Buck groans in relief as Eddie lowers him on the couch, sinking into the cushions. Eddie smiles softly.
He wades through the dirty dishes and half rotting food to find a small sleeve of crackers. He finds a clean enough cup and fills it with water.
Buck looks like he might cry as Eddie hands him the crackers and water.
"Just a few," Eddie says before Buck can protest.
Buck tugs weakly at the wrapper, and Eddie's almost entirely sure that he's faking it, but he pulls it open for him anyway.
He disappears upstairs for a moment, gathers Buck's sheets and their clothes from the bathroom and shoves it all in the washer.
Eddie sits down next to him, arm wrapping around his shoulder. Buck sags against his side, head coming to rest against Eddie's sternum.
He ate barely even a quarter of the crackers, but Eddie lets it go. He'll make him eat a small, but real meal later.
"They saw something in my bloodwork," Buck says quietly, breaking their peaceful silence.
"Buck, you don't have–"
"I do," Buck says shortly. Eddie's jaw clacks shut. "I was in my way to Mackey's office when they called me. I was gonna tell him to call it off. I went to the hospital instead."
Buck's fingers start to rip and pick at his nails. Eddie pulls a hand away, laces their fingers together instead.
"I needed the money for my treatment. And if I– The money would go to you and Chris, enough for college and the house."
Eddie's eyes snap down, to Buck's skeleton hands wrapped in his own.
"The rest to Maddie and everyone else."
"Buck–"
"I just wanted to make sure everyone would be okay."
"Buck, stop," Eddie pleads. "Stop it. We wouldn't be okay, no matter how much stupid money we got."
"I'm still here, Eddie," Buck says. He sits up just enough so he can look Eddie in the eye. "I'm right here."
"I know you are," Eddie says. He doesn't say what they both know. But soon you might not be.
"I'm so scared," Buck whispers. Tears pour down his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away as fast as they come.
"I know, baby, I know."
Eddie's scared, terrified. He doesn't show that.
Instead he grabs a pillow and puts it on his lap, pulls at Buck until he's lying down, nose tucked into Eddie's stomach. He pats at Buck's cheeks until they're dry.
"Try to get some sleep. For me." It should feel corny saying that, but it doesn't. Not with Buck.
Eddie leans back into the couch and watches Buck's pretty blue eyes flutter closed.
He'll spur into motion later, take Buck home, feed him, keep him rested and clean, find the names and numbers of his doctors, go through all of this at his side.
But for now, Eddie just sits and monitors Buck's breathing, scratches his scalp so he can sleep.