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So this is what it’s like to be stabbed. But ... he was not really “stabbed” stabbed, right? No. He’s been shot. With a knife.
Buck is well familiar with injuries and pain. He broke multiple bones as a child, falling off trees and stumbling down stairs. He carried scratches, bruises, and a rash from falling off his skateboard into a bush of something poisonous. He almost choked on bread, got struck by lightning, coughed up blood, and had his leg crushed by a firetruck. Over the years, he went through physical pain and emotional pain. Just a few months ago, he experienced the heart-wrenching and sleep-stealing pain of losing someone he deemed unlosable.
Yes. Buck is familiar with injuries and the various meanings of the word pain.
But he’s never been shot with a knife by a mad robot. Until now.
He’s still looking at the smashed robot when he hears the whirring noise and feels the sharp pain in his leg that makes him stumble backwards and cry out in surprise. He thinks he hears someone yell that there’s a second mad robot, and he hears several calls of his name, but he’s mostly focused on the knife that’s suddenly stuck in his thigh.
Oh. Fuck.
Buck swallows when he sees the blood. A lot of blood. He stares, transfixed, as it pools out of the injury. Huh. He isn’t even taking blood thinners anymore.
He feels dizzy.
And suddenly, Buck is on the ground, leaning against a wall, feeling dazed, while the whole team is fussing over him, trying to stop the bleeding, cursing because apparently it’s too close to an artery, and telling him to „just stay awake.“
Buck wonders if he might be the unluckiest firefighter in Los Angeles.
He blinks, teary-eyed. And then freezes, when Bobby appears, standing behind the working 118. He’s blurry, but definitely there, looking down at Buck with calm concern. But he can’t be here. He’s dead. The thought makes Buck's throat clench. Everything and everyone changed. And the sky's falling. And Hen and Athena are in danger. And Tommy isn’t here. But he probably got grounded anyway, right?
You’re going to be alright, kid, Bobby says.
“Cap,” Buck breathes.
“Yeah,” Chimney says, reaching out and cupping Buck’s face. “I’m here, Buck. You’re going to be okay, you hear me? You are losing quite a lot of blood. And I bet it hurts like hell. But we are going to make sure you’ll be alright.”
Right. Chimney is the Captain now. Bobby nods and smiles. And then he disappears. Buck swallows down his sadness.
“Did you kill it?” He rasps.
“Yeah, Ravi smashed it,” Chimney says, putting a lot of pressure on Buck’s leg. “You’re going to get painkillers soon, okay? Hey, we should call your emergency contact, right?”
“Yeah,” Buck breathes, his head lolling back with a sigh. “Please.”
“You got stabbed by what?!” Tommy exclaims, eyes wide.
“You two are secretly living together?!” Chimney asks, so baffled, he’s forgetting his chewing gum for a moment, his lips slightly parted as he looks from Buck in his hospital bed to Tommy and back.
Ravi grins. “Pay up,” he tells Eddie, who groans.
“You made a bet?!” Buck asks in disbelief. Or rather slurs, because he’s high on pain meds.
Tommy clears his throat. “Can we please go back to the part where you were stabbed by a killer robot?”
“I killed the first one,” Buck explains with a happy grin and raises his thumb. Then frowns down at his bandaged thigh. “Didn’t see there was a second one, though.”
“You killed the first one,” Tommy says dryly. “Yay. Anyway, it’s raining fire and I’m grounded. I’m going to take you home as soon as it’s possible, and we are not stopping for any more killer robots.”
“What about more demons?” Buck asks, pouting.
Tommy sighs. “I … You know what, I don’t even want to know.”
Chimney hums. “They gave him the good stuff. We should get going and see where else we can help. I also should make sure Harry Grant is still in the firetruck and not trying to be a firefighter on his own. You got him?”
“Always,” Tommy says, glancing at Buck, who is now inspecting the IV that is providing him with blood, rubbing the tube between his fingers, transfixed.
Chimney nods and gives Tommy a pat on the back, raising a brow. “I feel like we really should have a chat sometime. Because I didn’t know. Like at all.”
“We are just … friends sharing a house, really,” Tommy says carefully.
“Friends with benefits,” Buck nods cheerfully. “Literally. Because Tommy’s shower is the best.”
Ravi snorts. “See you soon, Buck. Have fun, Tommy,” he says, his lips twitching as he leaves the room, followed by Eddie, who looks like he’s about to crack up, too.
Tommy sits on the chair beside the bed, giving Buck a look that’s between exasperated and fond. "Are you going to fight the Terminator next?” He asks, raising a brow.
“You should have seen me,” Buck says, smiling brightly. Dreamily. “I really gave it to that killer robot good. Smashed it.”
“Cool,” Tommy says, giving a small smile back, the concern he felt since the call slowly being replaced by relief because Evan is clearly going to be alright. He just looks very young and very vulnerable. With his tousled curls, a bandage around his injured leg, and carrying a hospital gown.
“Are you staying?” Evan asks, sounding hopeful.
“Yeah,” Tommy says. “You can’t go home alone like this."
Buck smiles. He likes that Tommy is here. They can continue watching Stranger Things. And after that …
“Hey, do you want to rewatch Supernatural with me?”
"I saw Bobby," Buck says later, more alert but still feeling a bit woozy, fidgeting with the blanket. "After I got stabbed. I ... I saw him. You know?“
Tommy hums, handing him a glass of water together with more medication from the nurses. "The blood loss," he says gently. "And grief. Sometimes ... They works in such ways."
"Yeah," Buck sighs. "I miss him. It still hurts just as much as it did months ago. I ... Sometimes I'm scared it will never get better. That I will never get any better."
"Hey," Tommy says, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Buck's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You will. Grief is a process. You've got to work through it. And talking about it is better than locking it away in a corner of your mind. Trust me, I tried that. It doesn't work."
Buck looks at their hands, and he's not even surprised by how familiar this form of comfort feels. Everything feels right. Why did they keep this a secret for so long? He knows he's still in love with Tommy; why shouldn't everyone know?
Because maybe you should talk to Tommy about it first. Stop acting like this is enough. Just. Tell him what you want.
Not now, though. There's too much going on. Here and outside. And in space.
So Buck pushes his thoughts - and feelings - away for now and sighs. "I know. But ... it's hard to talk about something I wish never happened." He looks outside when he hears a whooshing noise, frowning. "Is the debris still falling?"
"Yeah, I really hope nothing big decides to hit my car,“ Tommy says, then perks up when his phone vibrates with an incoming call. "I swear, if it's someone from the 118 requesting a helicopter ride into hell ...," he mutters, taking the call. "Kinard?"
Buck knows when Tommy gives him that look. Uh oh.