Chapter Text
Eddie tosses his phone onto the kitchen table and moves to the cabinet, selecting a bag of microwave popcorn from the middle shelf. He tears and strips off the plastic sheath before sliding the flat bag into the microwave.
His phone starts vibrating on the table.
Eddie punches the “popcorn” button, pivots to grab his phone, and swipes his thumb across the screen. The caller ID says Maddie Buckley.
“What’s up.”
“Hey, um—” Maddie starts, voice rough. “Someone at dispatch just called me. Buck was in an accident. You’re not with him, are you?”
“What?” Eddie frowns at the popcorn bag slowly rotating in the microwave. “No. I just got off the phone with him.”
“They’re pulling him out right now—”
“No, he—”
“Closest trauma center—”
“Maddie—”
“And I can’t get there yet—”
“Maddie!”
She quiets. The popcorn starts to pop sporadically.
“Where are you getting this?” Eddie asks exasperatedly. He clocks the accusation in his tone and tries to soften his voice. “Whatever you think happened… Buck is okay. I was talking to him right before you called me. Three minutes before you called me. He’s fine.”
Maddie doesn’t respond.
“He’s fine,” Eddie repeats. “Cross my heart. He’s stuck in traffic.”
“I don’t— I don’t understand. Someone who’s at dispatch right now called me.”
The popping gets steadier, building into an obnoxious distraction.
Eddie turns his back to the microwave. “No, he’s fine. He’s driving. Whoever dispatch heard from, it wasn’t Buck.”
Maddie pauses again. “She told me it was Evan Buckley calling."
“Maybe he called in an accident that he saw? To dispatch?” Eddie reasons. His free hand traces an invisible line on the kitchen table. “But he’s not…”
“Something wrong?” Eddie asked, drawing closer to the phone. “You sound nasally.”
Eddie’s fingers pause on the table top. His heart skips a beat.
“Hey,” and Buck sounded urgent, like the next part was a secret: “I’m gonna be a while.”
Eddie’s voice barely reaches his own ears. “No, ’cause I… I just got off the phone with him.”
About three hundred miles away, Eddie’s microwave beeps.
“Don’t wait up.”
That bastard. That selfish, unbelievable bastard.
Eddie surges across the kitchen, through the living room, toward the front door. He snatches the car keys off their hook.
“Where, Maddie?” Eddie demands. “Which trauma center?”