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There’s something about feeling too safe that makes Buck question the universe profusely.
It’s like some unknown code, a sign from the stars that something is bound to go wrong. Unlike Eddie, Buck is the type to believe in all types of superstitions and signs. If the universe screams at him to listen, he’ll listen.
This sign, however, felt late and strange. He’s sprawled out on Maddie’s couch, still sleeping over at her house as he searches for another place to rent. Bobby had ended his shift early after a rough call, a typical structure fire that’d escalated far too quickly for them to contain in time. The building’s codes and regulations weren’t up to date, the sprinkler system and fire alarms hardly working. Buck and Eddie had entered the structure, searching for any remaining victims. There was a little girl, a child, whom they managed to save. However, from how much smoke she’d inhaled, she died on the way to the hospital.
It’d reminded him too much of the last time he’d lost someone on the job, except worse. Instead of seeing Devon purposely fall from the rollercoaster ride, he’d believed that the girl was safe until later when he learned she’d died en route.
Bobby had a good reason to send him home, whether it be the way he was shaking afterwards or the way he wasn’t all that focused on the tasks he should’ve completed after the call.
Now, he lays sprawled out on Maddie’s couch, dressed in sweats and listening, amused, to the way Maddie paces around the house.
“Does this look okay?” Maddie asks, walking into the room. She’s dressed in a strapless pine green dress, sleeves floating around her upper arms like wavy clouds. It reaches just past her knees, the skirt cascading down in waves like a waterfall.
Buck sits up. “It looks great.”
“Great? Buck, no, Chimney needs to like this. He’s still coming, right? He said he’d meet me at the door.” She begins to pace again, nervousness flooding her veins.
Buck stands on uneasy feet, striding over. Placing gentle hands on her shoulders, he looks her directly in the eyes. “Chimney will love it. And he will show up, okay? Just, give him time.”
She sighs, sitting down on one of the dining room chairs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Buck’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he retrieves his phone, a smile playing on his lips when he sees the text.
Did you get home okay?
Sent 20:47P.M.
Buck smiles. Eddie. His best friend had stayed to continue his shift whilst Buck was sent home, reluctantly driving home in his Jeep after Bobby insisted he go take some time off.
yeah, i’m good now. Helping Maddie get ready for that date tonight.
Read 20:54P.M.
“Who’s that?” Maddie inquires, peering over the phone.
Buck grins, sheepish and lop-sided. “It’s Eddie. He’s asking if I got home okay.”
His phone buzzes again.
That’s good. Chimney’s been pestering Hen the rest of shift about what he should and shouldn’t do on this date. Glad to see he’s not the only one worried.
Sent 20:59P.M.
Buck chuckles at that, sitting down at the dining table as he continues to text.
Hasn’t he been on a date before? i swear he has
Read 21:03P.M.
You tell me, you’ve worked with him longer.
Sent 21:05P.M.
Ha ha. I didn’t ask the guy about his love life, Eds.
Read 21:07P.M.
Really? I thought that was your thing
Sent 21:11P.M.
Buck can practically imagine the smirk on his face.
“Chimney’s here.” Maddie announces. “Are you sure this looks okay?” She asks, brushing off her skirt, careful not to disturb the waves.
Buck stands with her. “Yes, I’m positive. You look amazing, Maddie. Chimney will love it.”
She nods, grabbing her purse. “Alright, I’ve got my phone, card, keys. Do I need anything else?”
Buck stammers. “Uh, I don’t think so?”
“Okay, okay. Thank you.” she shoots him a grateful look.
He smiles softly. “I’m sure it’ll all go well.”
Buck barely has time to register the door opening before Doug is there, the dripping knife gleaming beneath the overhead light. Maddie’s breath hitches, previous checklist forgotten, hands shaking as her ex-husband strides into the space like he owns the place. Instinctively, Buck steps in front of her, arm outstretched in front of his sister.
Doug smiles but it’s wrong. It’s too calm, too close, a facade of fake comfort and calmness that’s scarier than any violence. He tilts his head, eyes sliding over Buck like he’s an item, a possession. “You always do play the hero, don’t you?” he murmurs, stepping forward until the knife’s tip hovers just above Buck’s chest. “Start begging and maybe I’ll stop.”
Buck’s jaw clenches. He refuses to look away, even as Maddie’s fingernails dig into his arm. “You’re not going to touch her,” he says, voice low and steady, though his pulse hammers in his throat. “Not again.”
Doug leans in, the blade tracing a slow line along Buck’s exposed collarbone, intimate in its cruelty. “Oh, I’ll touch whoever I want. That’s the wonderful beauty of it.” Buck glares at him, hand fumbling for Maddie’s until he envelopes his in hers, squeezing her hand tight. Reassurance in the simplest form. “You beg, and she’ll suffer less. However, if you stay stubborn…” he presses the knife just enough to break the skin, a bead of red trickling from the cut, “she’ll watch you bleed.”
“Buck—” Maddie’s voice cracks, torn between blatant terror and internalised fury.
Buck shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on hers instead of Doug’s. “Don’t give him anything,” he whispers. “He wants control, feeds off of it. Don’t let him have it.”
Doug’s smile widens, savouring the defiance, almost grinning gleefully. “We’ll see how long you last.”
Buck’s phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s insistent, continuous, aching to be answered.
Maddie stands her ground, moving beside Buck despite his warnings. “What did you do to Chimney?”
“Chimney?” Doug echoes, the knife still digging into Buck’s collarbone. “He’s not our problem anymore.”
Maddie breaks, leaning against Buck as she shakes and sobs wreck her body. “He-he was a good man.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Doug shouts, stepping closer, another bead of red escaping Buck’s wound as the knife digs further. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I liked Chimney. We were friends.”
Buck scoffs. “More like you were using Chimney for Maddie.”
“Shut up,” Doug hisses, pulling the knife away only to drag a slow, steady line against Buck’s cheek. It stings and burns and blood trickles down his face as it bleeds.
Buck glares, stepping backwards and pulling Maddie with him. He let her get hurt once, he let her stay with that abusive jerk, but he won’t—can’t—let it happen again. If he has to give himself up, if he has to let himself get hurt in place of her, so be it.
Doug’s gaze returns to Maddie. “You cloud me, Maddie,” he whispers, voice low and predatory. “You fog up my head. You always have. If you’d have just stayed—”
“Doug, how long have you been here?” Maddie asks, trembling.
He shrugs, pressing the knife gently against Buck’s skin again. Its already bloody surface stains Buck’s skin red, red, red, fair skin ruined by a horrific mixture of his and Chimney’s blood. “I needed to make sure you were safe.” He hums. “I saw you with Buck. I thought, ‘all right, fine. She needs some time. Just give her some space. She’ll come home. She always comes home.’” He frowns, smile fading. “And then Chimney told me you asked him out, and I knew…” he starts to chuckle incredulously. “I knew I waited too long.”
“So you, what, killed Chimney?” Buck asks, challenging him.
“You’re learning.” Doug praises, twirling the knife around. “If you’d have just come home, or rejected Chimney, I wouldn’t have had to hurt him.”
Buck takes another steady step backwards. “Or, if you weren’t such an abusive ass, Doug,” The name tastes bitter on his tongue. “Maybe she would’ve never left, or never accepted Chimney’s offer.”
Doug grabs Buck’s wrist, pulling him forward forcefully. “Are you saying this is my fault, Evan?”
Buck grunts, trying to pull his wrist away. “What does it sound like I’m saying?”
His phone buzzes again in his pocket.
“Perhaps, Evan, if you stopped playing the hero,” he lunges forward, ramming the knife into Buck’s abdomen, “you wouldn’t get hurt.”
The pain is immediate. A wild fire igniting across his abdomen, spouting flames on every surface as it runs its course. It burns and stings and eats away at the blood trying to clot, driving away the platelets and leaving him exposed.
“Buck!” Maddie screams, kneeling beside him as he slumps backward, hands fumbling to press against the wound. The blood thins and coats his fingers like a veil, staining his skin a deep, terrible shade of red. She gingerly presses her hands against the wound, trying and failing and trying again to clot the wound. “Stay with me, stay with me, Evan,” she whispers like a chant, almost begging for Buck to stay awake.
Doug hovers nearby, twirling the knife in his hand again. A smile works its way onto his face again, creasing his eyes as he takes pleasure in their pain.
Then—
Sirens.
Wailing in the dark night like banshees, sirens ring out, faded but audible enough for Doug to startle. He grips the knife tightly, glaring at Buck with anger and frustration swirling in his irises as blood drips onto the floor from the sharp blade.
Without another word, Doug retreats like a startled fox into the burrows of the house, searching for another escape.
The sirens grow louder. It’s almost poetic how they fade in and out, like they’re choosing how far away to stay from this messed up scene, before staying close and strong.
Buck’s phone buzzes in his pocket again. Another text going unanswered.
Eddie must be freaking out, he guesses, but his thoughts are swimming through molasses as he pictures Eddie’s frantic pacing in hospital waiting rooms and the mixture of heartbreak and confusion as he waits for news. He pictures the way he’d wait by Buck’s bedside, if he were to even make it out alive after this, waiting for him to wake up until Bobby pulls him away, dragging him home where Christopher awaits, oblivious to the bloodshed the evening had brought. He pictures Bobby with rosary beads, sitting beside Buck’s bed, praying for the day he wakes instead of receiving silence as a response.
His thoughts are in shambles, his mind full of molasses, but one clear sentence makes it to the surface: I have to stay awake.
He isn’t exactly sure why. Maybe some deep part of him knows it's the key to keeping himself alive, or maybe it's his previous EMS training reminding him of facts and figures he should know, regardless of lethargy or not. All he knows, all he can remember in this one moment, is that he has to stay awake.
“Buck,” Maddie whispers, balling up a tea towel and pressing it hard onto his wound. He can barely stifle a groan as the pain flares. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” she murmurs over and over, tears dripping onto Buck’s crumpled shirt.
He shakes his head weakly, vision blurring. “Not…your fault.” he manages, words failing and struggling to breathe, despite the wound not being focused on his lungs. He thinks it might be the panic, or the shock running through his veins. “Doug’s.” he says defiantly, before hissing as the fire blazes.
Maddie’s hands are slick with blood now, trembling uselessly as she presses down on the gushing wound. Buck’s breaths come in shallow, ragged, each exhale visibly weaker than the last.
The door slams open. It reverberates in the otherwise empty building like a drum beat in a silent cathedral.
“Buck!” Eddie’s voice cuts through the chaos, and Buck would’ve cried if not for the pain driving his veins like a drug and how messed up his mind felt from its spell. His friend is at his side in seconds, dropping to his knees and eyes wide but focused. He shoves Maddie’s hands aside only to press his own down, firm and unyielding, unwilling to let go any time soon. “Keep pressure here. Don’t let go.” he commands.
Maddie sobs, nodding vigorously. Her fingers clutch Buck’s wrist as if she can physically anchor him back to the real world, the reality he’s trying to stay in but his spirit wants to escape.
Eddie leans in close, voice sharp but threaded with desperation. “Stay with me, Buck.” he glances back at the door before returning his full attention on Buck. “You hear me? Stay.”
Buck’s vision swims dangerously. The sirens wail outside, gaining distance now, but still too far for Buck to have any hope. Footsteps, pounding on the brick path of the driveway, the same one he passes and goes each time he enters the house. And, voices, loud and commanding and shouting out orders, reminding him vaguely of the one-eighteen, but he’s positive it can’t be. After their last twenty-four hour shift, they should be at home, relaxing and soaking in the time off.
It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing really makes any sense. It’s to be expected, he knows, but it’s frustrating and worrying and normal all at once.
Nothing makes sense.
And, maybe that’s why, when darkness beckons, he chooses to walk into its caliginous tunnel and take its guiding hand. Succumbing to the darkness, feeling his eyes flutter shut, he only has one coherent thought to apologise to Eddie and Maddie before it fully welcomes him into its abyss.