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"Buck, Eddie, do you copy?"
Buck groaned as he came to, his body aching and his head pounding. He didn't move for a moment, just blinking his eyes open and taking in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see, the air around him dim and dusty with debris everywhere. It took a second to remember how he had gotten here. He remembered the 118 responding to a fire in an apartment building. While they had been searching for anyone stuck inside, something had suddenly exploded and sent the building collapsing around them. He could remember a brief moment of weightlessness before it had all gone dark.
"Buck? Eddie? I need you guys to check in."
That was Bobby, voice full of worry as it came out of Buck's radio. Buck finally moved, just reaching a hand up to press the button of his radio as he cleared his throat. "I'm here, Cap," he said. He sat up, shoving some of the debris off of the lower half of his body. He was lucky not to be pinned—
Eddie. Bobby had also asked for Eddie, Eddie had been inside with Buck when the blast happened. Buck's mind, which had been foggy and slow following his bout of unconsciousness, was racing now. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his body. None of it was bad enough to indicate anything serious, he was just banged up. He didn't really care, anyway. He needed to find Eddie.
"Buck, are you hurt?" Bobby asked. Buck was hardly paying attention, flicking on his flashlight to start searching his surroundings. His eyes swept back and forth frantically as he tried his best to maneuver through the wreckage. They seemed to have crashed down into the basement of the building. "Buck?"
Buck grabbed his radio again. "I'm fine, Cap. I'm looking for Eddie."
"Be careful you don't shift anything," is all Bobby said, knowing better than to try and keep Buck from doing everything in his power to find Eddie.
It took several minutes and very careful navigation between pockets of space scattered around the rubble before Buck found him. For a terrifying moment, Buck couldn't tell if Eddie was breathing. But then he caught the faint rise of his chest, and Buck felt like his heart started beating again.
"Eds?" Buck called, trying to shift some of the debris pinning Eddie down. It was heavy, though, and Buck didn't want to jostle Eddie too much since he didn't know the extent of his injuries. Instead, Buck knelt down beside his unconscious best friend. He pushed up the visor of Eddie's helmet and pulled off his broken oxygen mask. He tapped his face with a gloved hand to try and wake him. He wanted to avoid a sternal rub if he could, since broken ribs were fairly likely considering the way they had fallen and the way Eddie was pinned. "Eddie, c'mon, wake up for me."
Now that Buck was closer, he could tell that Eddie's breathing wasn't right. It was rapid and shallow, a bit of a wheeze to it. Eddie stirred before he could think further on that, sucking in a gasping breath and immediately grunting in pain. His eyes were hazy as they found Buck's.
"Eddie, hey," Buck said, the tightness in his chest easing a little. "What hurts?" Really, everything probably hurt right now, but Eddie would know how to prioritize.
"Chest, my—fuck, it hurts," Eddie groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute. "It's—Something's wrong."
Buck swallowed thickly, ignoring the icy fear that flooded his body at the words. "What is it?"
"My chest, my lungs, I think," Eddie rasped after a moment of consideration. "I need you to check for a collapse, on the side of my chest near you."
"Got it," Buck mumbled, examining the rise and fall of Eddie's chest as he breathed. Visually, there wasn't much a difference. He put his hands to Eddie's chest, focusing on the feel of each side and realizing that he could feel a difference. To double check, he leaned down close and tapped lightly at Eddie's chest and yeah, that didn't sound right.
"Partial collapse, right?" Eddie guessed, eyes still closed. Buck glanced down to see him clenching his hand that wasn't pinned into a fist. His voice was remarkably even considering how much pain he was probably in.
"Sounds like it," Buck confirmed.
"Doesn't seem like it's too bad, but that could change," Eddie warned, and Buck tried to ignore the fear that coiled tight in his stomach at the thought.
"We need to get out of here," he muttered, grabbing his radio and holding the button down as he reported in. "I've got Eddie, but we need an exit, Cap. He's got a partial lung collapse, not to mention he's pinned by the wreckage. I don't see any bleeding, and he can move his extremities, but there could be other injuries that we aren't aware of yet."
"We're working on it, Buck. Just keep him steady, okay?"
Eddie's eyes fluttered open again to look at Buck as he sighed heavily, anxiety wreaking havoc on his stomach. If Eddie took a turn, how was Buck supposed to keep him steady? He didn't have any equipment. Buck met Eddie's gaze and knew he'd figure it out if it came down to it. He didn't have a choice. Losing Eddie wasn't an option.
"Got it, Cap."
They don't talk at first, just waiting in relative silence while Buck kept watching Eddie intently for any sign that he was taking a turn for the worse. Eddie stared blankly up at the wreckage above them, and Buck can't stop himself from asking, "Thinkin' about anything over there?"
"Not really," Eddie said, but Buck can tell it's a lie. He just hummed, soft and questioning. Eddie sighed, pain flashing across his face with the motion. "Just the usual in these situations. Chris."
Right, obviously. Buck felt a little stupid for not guessing that.
"Feeling real glad I changed my will a couple years ago," Eddie added in a murmur after a beat. Buck's chest ached at the words. They never really talked about the will, not since Eddie had informed Buck that he had changed it so Christopher would go with him if anything happened to Eddie. It was just one of those unspoken things between them, how much that meant to each of them—that Buck would fight for Chris as hard as Eddie, that Eddie would trust Buck with the one person most precious to him. They didn't talk about it, because there weren't really the right words for any of it.
Sometimes, Buck felt like most of whatever they were, whatever it was that made them BuckandEddie instead of Buck and Eddie, existed in the silence. It existed more in everything left unsaid than anything either of them have ever expressed aloud. He hated that. Not always, but sometimes. He was growing tired of the years of dancing around each other, of avoiding the feelings that just grew every day. But Eddie was straight, regardless of that weird extra layer to their friendship. They were best friends and partners, and Buck tried his best to ignore his desire for more.
"Don't talk like that," Buck scolded lightly, still watching Eddie intently for any change. "The will doesn't matter since I'm getting you out of here."
"It's always my first thought," Eddie continued, evidently ignoring Buck's words. "Not just that he'd have you, though you—" Buck watched Eddie close his eyes and swallow thickly. "You have no idea how glad I am he'd have you. But I'm also glad you'd have him."
Buck's throat felt tight. "Eddie—"
"Knowing he's at home would keep you from doing anything stupid, if I wasn't here to have your back."
"But you are here," Buck said firmly. He couldn't listen to this anymore. "You've had worse than this, Eds. You're gonna be fine, alright?"
"I have had worse," Eddie acknowledged. "I just…" His lips twitched in a wry grin that somehow just made Buck more nervous. "I had a dream the other night, one where I died on shift. Some people would take that as a sign."
"You don't believe in signs," Buck countered, feeling like his ribs were about to crack from the sheer effort of holding in his panic. He felt claustrophobic suddenly. He needed them both out of this fucking wreckage, needed Eddie to stop talking like this.
"You told me once that the universe was screaming at me." Eddie opened his eyes, tilting his head a little to look at Buck. There was something so achingly intense mixed with the pain in those brown eyes that Buck loved.
Brown eyes that suddenly went wide and panicked as Eddie's breathing changed without warning, much more labored and pained. Buck stiffened as Eddie's one free hand pressed to his chest, right over his partially collapsed lung. Eddie struggled to suck in a breath, the veins in his neck suddenly bulging. Buck scrambled for his radio.
"Guys, something's wrong," he blurted out, unable to hide his panic. "H-He—His breathing is worse, looks like maybe his pain is too."
It was Hen's voice that crackled through the radio this time. "It could've progressed from a simple pneumothorax to a tension pneumothorax," she said quickly. "You're gonna have to release the air building up in his chest."
"How do I do that?"
"You'll need a tube of some sort." Buck glanced around, panic threatening to choke him before he was able to push it away and force himself into a focused work mindset. He had to keep it together, Eddie needed him. He grabbed Eddie's broken facemask by the tube that connected it to his air supply.
"All I have is the hose from his air supply."
"That'll have to work," Hen said, her tone making it clear that it wasn't her first choice at all. Buck tried to ignore that, grabbing his knife from a pocket of his turnouts to cut a section of the hose free. Hen walked him through the process of creating the incision and feeding the tube in between two of Eddie's ribs, creating a way for the trapped air to escape and stop putting pressure on his lung.
Buck felt like he couldn't breathe until Eddie could, and he sank back to sit on his haunches when the other man settled somewhat now that he could actually inhale and exhale to some degree.
"I-I think we're good for now," Buck reported into his radio, pointedly ignoring the way his voice cracked. "Please tell me you guys are getting close."
"We're getting there as fast as we can, Buckaroo," Hen told him gently. "You're doing great."
He wanted to scream, to tell them that 'as fast as they can' wasn't good enough. But he didn't. He stayed silent, keeping his eyes trained on Eddie, who looked ten times more exhausted than before as his breathing settled—well, as much as it could settle in his current situation.
It's another several minutes before Eddie broke the silence that had fallen between them.
"I think you were right." Buck frowned slightly, tilting his head in question. Eddie smiled faintly before he continued. "The universe has been screaming at me. But not—not how you meant. And maybe it wasn't even the universe, maybe it was… Maybe it was you."
Buck's stomach lurched threateningly. "W-What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean," Eddie whispered, and Buck felt his heart drop all the way down to the Earth's core. Eddie knew. Eddie knew?! How did Eddie know?
"I'm so—"
"No," Eddie interrupted, voice firm. He swallowed thickly, his brows furrowing like he was thinking hard. "You don't have—I'm—" He shook his head, looking frustrated with the way his words were coming out a little slow and thick. "I can't think, for some reason."
Above them, the rubble shifted, and Buck instinctively shielded the exposed parts of Eddie's body—mostly just half of his chest and his head—with his own as dust rained down around them. Leaning close like that allowed Buck to notice the blue tint that Eddie's lips were starting to take on. What the hell? He could breathe now, why—
Buck shook his head and pulled off his helmet just to tug his own facemask off. He wasn't sure how much he had left in his tank, but maybe air quality was the issue? Before he could fit the mask over Eddie's face, Eddie's free hand clenched in Buck's turnouts and tugged him down into a kiss.
His mind was going haywire as he kissed Eddie back like it was second nature, the wreckage still shifting around and above them. Buck pulled back just in time for sunlight to shine down on them as a piece of the rubble was moved, exposing them to the outside world again. He could hear their team, but his wide eyes were trained on Eddie's face, on the hazy little grin there.
Chimney and Hen were suddenly there with their kit, Bobby pulling Buck back so they could get to work. Buck was still in a daze, but he managed to catch Chimney's words of, "Lips are turning blue, looking at probable hypoxia. Need to get him on oxygen, ASAP."
Bobby used his grip on Buck's shoulder to turn the younger man around to face him, though Buck was reluctant to tear his gaze from Eddie. "You okay, kid?" Bobby asked, eyes full of worry as he scanned Buck for any visible injuries.
"I'm fine," Buck insisted, mind still reeling. He felt like he was buffering, like he couldn't quite catch up with everything that had happened. "Will Eddie—"
"He'll be fine," Bobby assured, squeezing Buck's shoulder comfortingly. "Hen and Chim have him. I don't suppose I can convince you to go get looked over by some other paramedics?"
Buck shook his head immediately. "I'm staying with Eddie."
To Buck's surprise, Bobby's lips twitched up in a half-exasperated smile and he conceded without a fight. "Yeah, I figured."