Work Text:
Buck gets on a plane and doesn't tell anyone.
He gets home from a 48, packs a bag, turns his phone off, hops on a plane to Minnesota. He’s not sure where he’s going to stay, or what the weathers like. Just that at this very moment, he needs to see Bobby. That confessional booth was not enough.
Athena had given Buck the address of the gravesite, of course she had. She gave it to everyone but she had sat Buck down, shown him pictures, told him he was welcome to go any time. It was nice.
So, he Ubers straight from the airport to the cemetery, no point in drawing it out. It’s 2 pm and he has a lot to say.
He wants to say I miss you please come back I can’t do this without you and fuck you for leaving you are so selfish and please let me come down there with you it’s miserable up here
But when he gets to the grave, he only gets out a high pitched “Hey, Cap” before he can’t produce another word.
Nothing comes out except the most embarrassing, soul wrecking, body shaking sob Buck has ever made - and it doesn’t stop. Buck can’t control it, it’s like it’s leaking out of him. A firehose of emotion pushing him to his knees. And he goes, not even noticing the twing of pain he gets when he hits the dirt.
He thinks for a moment he should be embarrassed to be seen like this in front of Bobby’s wife and children, meeting them like this for the first time is not what he pictured, what he wanted, and that just makes it worse. Buck recalls a daydream he used to have of Bobby taking him to Minnesota one day, introducing him to the people who mattered the most to him. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.
The pain in his chest gets worse, wracking his whole body as he feels himself wind back his arm and punch the ground beneath him. His knuckle nicks a rock, he doesn’t care. He keeps going, giving violent CPR to the ground with alternating fists, like it’s going to restart Bobby’s empty heart from six feet under. If love could truly revive someone, this would be the moment it happens.
After while, his body gives out, he collapses, leaning forward to push his forehead to the headstone, breath coming out in shaky pulses. He heartbeat dumbs too loud in his ears and drags his trembling body to sit up against the stone. He subconsciously notices the blood on his knuckles as he reaches up to brush his hair off his forehead, he doesn’t care. He closes his eyes, wills his body to sink into the dirt, to be closer to the man below. He still says nothing.
Buck has no idea how long he lies there, feeling the heat of the sun starting to subside. Through the still present pulsing in his ears, Buck hears a car coming up the path towards the section of the cemetery where he’s trying to bury himself right next to Bobby.
Buck doesn’t move. What’s the point? Everyone here is grieving, so fuck them if they judge him. But then the car stops, engine turns off, door opens. Buck keeps his eyes closed, hoping the stranger will take silent pity on him and just walk by.
By the sound of the footsteps, they do the exact opposite, slowly padding up right next to him.
“Buck?”
Bucks eyes fly open at the voice, because it’s Eddie. He didn’t need to look, but the shock of Eddie being there, not even, he checks his watch, 4 hours behind him in his urgent flee of the State of California? That brings his back to the present, fast. He rubs his eyes quickly before looking up again. Yep, still Eddie, looking at him with those big, worried, brown eyes.
“How did you know I was here?” Buck manages to get out, curling in on himself in hopes to avoid more of Eddie’s gaze.
“You, uh. You left your laptop open on the flight confirmation. Wasn’t hard. Kinda figured this is where you’d gone once I checked the usual places.” Eddie fidgets with his thumb, not looking at Buck anymore, but having a staring contest with the ground.
Buck is quiet for a few moments, really trying to take in the fact that Eddie is standing here, in Minnesota, Eddie got on a last minute flight and followed him to the source of their tandem grief, and Bobby is 6 feet below him.
“Did you know I went to confession?” he says finally, quietly, a confession on its own.
Eddie huffs something that could be misconstrued as a laugh, but is really just the air from his lungs being punched out of him. He shakes his head as he pads over softly to slide down next to Buck, touching his temple to the engraved word Nash for just a moment before turning his attention back to Buck.
“How did it go?” He asks simply, voice even, not letting the tightness in his chest slip though.
Buck shrugs, “It was a few weeks ago, I- I just wanted to talk to him, tell him how bad things were going.” He says, looking up at the sky, lip trembling “I wanted him to tell me what to do”
“Not really how confession works, mijo” Eddie says, placing his hand softly on Buck’s knee.
“I know, well, I know that now, but” Buck pauses for a moment, ducking his chin back down to touch his chest, fingers dragging lightly in the dirt when he whispers “I told him to give me a sign, and then an earthquake happened. I thought, this is it. But as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, I realized, I had no idea what he was saying”
“So you came here to keep listening” Eddie says pointedly, no pity, no judgement.
“Yeah,” Buck sighs “I guess so”
Eddie slides his hands down off Buck’s knee to still his hand in the dirt, slipping his fingers into the other man’s palm “Did you get to say what you wanted to say?”
“No” Buck wants to flinch, but he honest to god can’t feel his body at this point, so he just breaths out like it hurts. “I don’t think I even came here to talk, really. I don’t think I had a plan at all”
Eddie doesn’t say anything for a minute, just rubs his thumb on the top of Buck’s hand, avoiding his bloodied knuckles. When he speaks again, he’s turned towards the headstone, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the recent date.
“Hey, Cap.” Eddie strains out, tears already pooling around his lash line. He scrunches his face to push them back, but one rolls down his face “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I messed my own life up so bad that I couldn’t be here. For our family, for you”
Buck feels like maybe he’s being stabbed because the pain in his gut is burning as he listens to his bestfriend whimper around his words. He don’t think he can stand to listen to Eddie blame himself for one second, he turns slightly to look at the headstone himself
“He brought Chris home though, Cap.” Buck whispers, like he’s afraid speaking louder might make this more real “He came back.”
Eddie does flinch this time, eyebrows pinching, tongue between his teeth as he chokes back a sob. “Buck,”
Buck ignores him, the dam breaks and he starts telling Bobby about a few calls, how soft Gerard got, about Bobby Han. Eddie smiles softly at him now, jumping into the conversation every so often like they’re sitting at the Grant-Nash dinner table.
They stay like that, shoulders pressed into the headstone, body’s turned into each other, until the sun is long below the horizon and Buck is sure they must be trespassing. They take turns talking to Bobby, telling him stories in tandem, crying when it gets too real, too raw.
When they both decide it’s time to leave, Eddie gets up first, using the hand they’re still connected by the haul Buck up from the ground, grimacing as he gets the first good look at the blood dried around the thick scrapes across Buck’s fist. He doesn’t say anything, they’ll get to that.
Buck watches as Eddie’s eyes trace over the rest of him, scanning for injuries, pulling more weight than normal up as he guides Buck to the rental car he pulled up in.
As they both glance at each other over the middle console, for the first time since he felt the confession booth shake, Buck feels like maybe Bobby did send him a sign.
This one he hears, loud and clear.