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The Mystery of Evan Buckley

Summary:

Buck had been working at the 118 for 7 months now and his husband had been deployed for 11 excruciating months. Eddie only got so much time to call and Buck gave all of that time to Christopher. Instead Eddie and Buck communicated through old fashioned letters.

Buck wrote his weekly letter to Eddie and after his shift he sent the letter hoping he’d get a response soon. After a week the worry started to creep into every blood vessel in his body. But still Buck wrote another letter and sent it off.

 

Or Buck is trying to get through this last month of Eddie’s deployment when he goes radio silent. The 118 can tell something is up with their newest recruit but don’t know what until a dreaded phone call.

Notes:

Hey this is a little bit of a sad fic… but I hope you guys still enjoy!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It was too hard to talk about. So he didn’t. 

The 118 knew Buck had a son but nothing more. 

No mention of his husbands who’s in Afghanistan doing God knows what. No mention of Chris’s mom either. 

They saw his wedding ring and assumed he was married to Christopher’s mother but whenever asked Buck would always deflect seeing as he was a horrible liar. 

Buck had been working at the 118 for 7 months now and his husband had been deployed for 11 excruciating months. Eddie only got so much time to call and Buck gave all of that time to Christopher. Instead Eddie and Buck communicated through old fashioned letters. 

Every week Buck would send one. Sometimes it would take longer than that for Eddie to reply - which always made Buck worry - but he always did - eventually. 

On a particularly slow shift Buck started writing his weekly letter at the dining table. It consisted of I miss yous and Chris has been doing better and we had crazy crazy calls and more I missed yous and I love yous and Buck truly meant them all. Eddie was the love of Buck's life and he was counting down the days till he could give him a hug and feel his soft lips against his. But, until then this would have to do. 

After his shift he sent the letter hoping he’d get a response soon. After a week the worry started to creep into every blood vessel in his body. But still Buck wrote another letter and sent it off.


By the end of week two there had been no calls or letters. As if Buck wasn’t worried enough himself he had to explain to Chris why his Dad hadn’t called - which has never happened before. 

“Papa.”

“What’s up Superman?” Buck said looking into the rear view mirror on the way home from school. 

“Why hasn’t Daddy called yet?”

Buck could feel the shattered pieces of his heart piercing his insides trying to make their way out but Buck pushed them back wanting to stay strong for Chris. “Umm- well Daddy’s very busy and sometimes the computers don’t work where he’s at so it can be hard for him to call. But I’m sure he’s thinking of you Chris. He loves you so much you know.” 

Chris didn’t respond. Just looked out the window having a heart broken expression on his little face. 

Buck pushed down the tears that wanted to fall as he pulled into the driveway of their home. 


It was week three of not hearing from Eddie. Buck stayed strong for Chris but at work he pushed himself to do more to get his mind off of the one person who he couldn’t be with or talk to or see. When he finished all of his chores and there were  no calls he would isolate himself from the team. He didn’t want to talk to anyone if it wasn’t Eddie and he couldn’t fake it at home and at work. 

Sitting at the dining table staring into space as his team sat together on the couch he heard his name being called. 

It was Bobby calling him to his office. 

Shit. 

“Sit down Buck.” Bobby saw the anxiety on Buck's face and hurried to say, “you’re not in trouble. I just want to talk.” Buck nodded confused on why he was in Bobby’s office if he didn’t do anything wrong. 

“What’s been going on?” 

Buck took a beat seeing if he’d continue - which he didn’t - so Buck made the next move in the conversation. “Nothing. What makes you think there’s something going on?”

Bobby sighed. “Buck, you’re isolating yourself from the team. In all of the time you’ve worked here you’ve never gone this long without talking unprompted to, you’ve been pushing yourself into extra work and chores, and when you don’t have any work you stare off into space. If there is something going on I can help Buck. You can talk to me or a therapist.”

“I’ve just been getting a little less sleep than usual but that’s all. I’m fine.” Although he didn’t lie, Buck decided to leave out the part where he got less sleep because Chris was having nightmares about his Dad being dead. 

“Okay. But just know my door is always open, Buck.”

Buck nodded and left his Captain’s office. 


By the time week number four came Christopher would sleep in Buck’s bed - in the spot where Eddie should be - when Buck was off shift. During the day when Chris was at school and Buck was home alone, he couldn’t hold himself together. He would cry until he was dehydrated and get barely anything done around the house. 

On Thursday Buck had a 24 hour shift. Thursday. The day Eddie’s deployment ended - the day it was supposed to end. A part of Buck was glad that he would have a distraction but another part of him - the part that believed his husband was alive and as okay as he could be - wanted to wait at home all day. 

It was 7pm and the team was gathered around the table eating Bobby’s favorite lasagna. Buck was picking at the food on his plate not paying attention to a word anyone said when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He jumped when he first felt it not knowing who the hell would be calling. 

Is Chris okay? Is it- no. No. It can’t be-

Buck’s thoughts were cut off as he saw the number. A random number. 

Of course Buck answered seeing as it might be his MIA husband or someone in the military calling about- no. He couldn’t go there. 

“Hello?” Buck said standing up from the table and walking towards the stairs. 

“Babe?” Buck came to a halt as he heard the voice of the man on the other line. 

“Eddie!?” He practically screamed. One hand firmly clenched onto his phone while the other held the railing trying to keep himself upright. 

“Look, I don't have much time to explain things but it hasn’t been going too good over here and I just- I need you to know how much I love you. I’m sorry baby. Tell Chris I love him for me please.”

Thousands of thoughts raced through Buck's mind but this could not be happening to him. He heard the muffled sound of gun shots in the distance. 

“No. Eddie. Don’t do this to me. To us. You’re supposed to come home today. I- I can’t do it without you. Don’t leave me like this. Please.” Buck begged. 

“I’m so sorry baby. I love you and Chris so much-“

Eddie’s words came to an abrupt stop and all Buck could hear was gun shots and explosions before the line went dead. 

“Eddie!” Buck said in a panic looking at his phone screen. Every breath he took felt like he was climbing Mount Everest. Buck’s knees gave out and he collapsed, phone dropping but still holding onto the railing. 

He felt a presence creeping up behind him. As a hand fell onto his shoulder Buck spun around and looked Bobby in the face. 

“Buck. Buck. Buck! You have to breathe.” Buck only partially heard Bobby as he spoke and guided Buck to sit down on the couch. He felt someone come up beside him and hand him a glass of water which is when he realized there were tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“I- I didn’t say I love you. I didn’t get to say bye. What am I gonna tell Chris? I don’t think I can do this without him.” Buck said an assortment of these words almost incoherently to the team who were all looking at him like he finally broke - which he did. 

“Buck, what’s going on?” Bobby said slowly and carefully.

After a beat Buck replied. “He’s dead.” Confused eyes stared at Buck as he tried to breath through the rest of his sentence. “My- my husband. He’s an Army medic and- and he just called.” Bucks hands started shaking and he felt the weight of the glass in his hands disappear as he started to sob. Arms wrapped around Buck and he leaned into the comfort of physical contact that would never amount to the safety he felt when he was held by his husband. But through the tears Buck got out one last thing. “They shot him- I-“ Buck completely broke down saying this. 

As the sobs subsided minutes or maybe hours later Buck spoke up, “What- what am I supposed to do now?” But then the realization came over him. 

“Chris- omg- If- if he’s dead they’re gonna come to the house. I can’t- I- I need to tell him myself.” Buck stood up as he said this. “No, I’m a mess. I can’t go looking like this. I- I need to get myself under control.” But that was the thing. He couldn’t.

Someone was hugging him again. It was Hen. Of course it was. She wouldn’t be able to sit there and watch him going insane without doing anything. Buck reciprocated the hug and sobbed into her shoulder most definitely making a huge wet spot on her shirt. But he wasn’t thinking about that. All he could think about was Eddie.

His husband. 

His Eddie.

The father of his son is dead.

And he didn’t get to say I love you one last time. 

When Buck finally cried all of the tears he had he let go of Hen and wiped the drying tears off of his face. 

As if it was on cue Carla and Chris walked into the station. 

“Oh my God. They must’ve heard. Shit.” Bobby decided to take action and make his way downstairs to greet them and give Buck some extra time before facing his son. 

Hen turned to Buck putting her hands on his shoulders and making him look at her.

“It’ll be okay Buck. We’re all here for you.”

Hearing footsteps approaching Buck took one last deep breath. Bobby was carrying a distraught and crying Chris up the stairs, Carla following closely. 

“Hey Superman, what's wrong?” Buck asked, trying to sound cheerful knowing it was about him finding out his dad died. Bobby handed the child off to Buck as Carla answered the question for him.

“He had a bad dream again and he wanted to see his dad.” Although this isn’t what Buck thought it was going to be, he knew what Carla meant - he had a dream about his dad dying and wanted to see him but Buck was the next best option. 

What do I tell my son when his dad just died? He already lost one parent. What will the loss of another do to him? What will it do to me?

Buck’s thoughts were brought to a halt at the sound of his son’s voice. “Daddy was supposed to come home today. Why isn’t he home yet?” Buck rubbed Christopher’s back while taking a deep breath. Turning around, Buck sat Christopher down on the couch against his will so he could look at his son. 

When Buck told Chris about Shannon he had been there supporting Eddie. They were there for each other to talk about it. But now? Now Buck had to do this alone. He had to do everything alone from now on out. 

Buck crouched in front of Chris putting a hand on his knee and started. 

“Chris, uhh- you know how much Daddy loves you right?” Chris nodded before Buck continued. “Well Daddy called and wanted me to tell you he loves you so much but he can’t come home this time.”

“But- but he promised.” Chris wailed. Buck looked up trying to push the tears back to where they came from and sat next to Chris holding him like his life depended on it. Like they were the only two left. Like his whole team wasn’t standing there watching them and their whole lives fall apart. 


The next morning Buck was woken up to knocking on his door. This is it. It’s real now.

Buck opened the door and saw exactly who he was expecting. 

A random man in a crisp and clean military uniform holding a flag and dog tags.

Buck tuned out most of what the man was saying but it was something along the lines of, your husband is dead, there was no body, we found his dog tags, we are sorry for your loss.

Buck took the flag and dog tags before closing the door, pressing his back to it, sliding down, and crying silent tears so he wouldn’t wake up his son.

This is really happening. I am going to be living life without Edmundo Diaz. My one and only true love. How am I supposed to do this?

Buck swooped his finger over the dog tags reading the inscription then putting them around his neck to lay on top of his husband's sweatshirt that he changed into last night. The sweatshirt that still smelled like him. 

Buck didn’t have to worry about planning a funeral - luckily - the military had that covered. 

It was only four days after he got a knock on his door that he sat in the front row of the place he never wanted to sit with his son glued to his side, listening to gunshots being fired in honor of his husband. 

Buck didn’t cry once that day. He just sat - emotionless - being strong for his grieving son. 

Everyone came to the funeral. Said they were sorry. Said they wished they had the chance to meet him. Told him to reach out if he needed anything.

Everyone knew he wouldn’t reach out. 

It was Buck. He would grieve in silence trying not to bother anyone.

But this was the 118 so they inevitably stopped by, gave him casseroles, and other homemade meals so he didn’t have to worry about cooking.

But nothing they did or could do would ever be enough because his husband was dead. 

He never got to properly say goodbye. 

Didn’t get to say I love you one last time. 

And he would never be able to kiss the love of his life again.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!!

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