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After Eddie left, Buck fell back into old habits. He threw himself into sex for a while, hoping to fill the void in his heart.
But that wasn't enough, not really. So, he went deeper. Back to his childhood.
He got himself hurt, purposely falling into dangerous situations that had him leaving with scrapes, bumps, scars, bruises- pain.
When Eddie came back, Buck swore he'd stop before he got worse or seriously injured. And for a while, he did. His visits to the fighting ring went from everyday down to once every other day, then once a week, twice a month, and now it was just once a month. Whatever his first day off was every month.
.
The sweat on his skin held an eerie sheen under the bright lights focused on the pit, his arms raised as he watched his opponent. His mind flashed to the conversation he had with Eddie, when he found out what Eddie had been doing.
'Wanna go for the title?'
'You're on blood thinners.'
'I could still take you.'
He wondered what Eddie would say if he found him here. Sweaty, bloody, bruised, going in circles as he waited for his opponent to throw the first punch. Would Eddie be disappointed? Angry? Or would he care at all?
Everything seemed different after Bobby died, even with Eddie back. It felt like he was still in Texas and Buck was still alone. He actually felt more alone now, everyone felt like they were pulling away from him.
'You're gonna be okay, Buck.'
Sometimes, Buck swore he could hear Bobby's voice, see his disappointed face in the crowd as he took hit, after hit, after hit. If only Bobby could see how wrong he was, how absolutely not okay Buck had been since he left. Since he died.
It felt like everyone was walking on eggshells around Buck, lying to him when he asked how they were. He wanted to help, but they were all worried about him. Wondering if one wrong word would make him snap.
And maybe that's why Buck was here, getting the shit kicked out of him for the third time that week, after he swore he'd stop coming.
A harsh punch to the face pulled him out of his thoughts, the impact echoing throughout his body as he stumbled back. He was tired and sore, his head wasn't in the game, and he was losing. He didn't do this for the money, but he did have to admit that the extra cash in his pocket was nice. Especially after getting his own place and moving out of Eddie's, finally.
He groaned as a kick landed against his ribs, knocking the air out from his lungs. He swung a punch at the man across from him, who barely looked better than he did. Exhausted and beat up, telling himself this is the last fight of the night, barely keeping it together. They all had issues, that's why they came to the ring. The man took a step back, two more punches and he was on the ground. Buck heard the whistle blow, the referee grabbed his arm and raised it as he took deep, uneven breathes and tried to regulate his breathing with the adrenaline still coursing through his bloodstream. He let himself relax, he'd won.
Fumbling with his keys, Buck let himself into the darkness of his house. He couldn't really call it a home, not without Eddie. Or Chris. Or Bobby. Out of all of the things that Buck was; impulsive, reckless, clumsy- he wasn't stupid. He realized his crush on Eddie, but he couldn't bring himself to confess. Eddie was straight, he didn't think of Buck that way. If anything, he pitied Buck. And Buck did not want his pity.
Buck floated through his nighttime routine, barely aware of his actions as he went from one task to the next. He felt that disgusting numbness settling in his chest, curling up by his heart, the feeling he tried so hard to avoid. He cleaned his cuts and bruises, relishing in the painful sting of the disinfectant as it seeped into the wounds and briefly overcame the numb feeling. He collapsed onto his bed, the cool sheets actually felt nice against his skin instead of reminding him of how alone he was. And for once, he slipped into a dreamless sleep.
☼
Words couldn't describe how relieved Eddie was to be back in LA, back home, with his son. It felt like a weight had finally been lifted off of his chest and that he could finally relax. Chris was still mad at him, but they were working through that and they were doing it together. Their routine easily reappeared as they settled back into their normal way of life.
Well, mostly normal.
Buck had been around, but not as much as he used to be. Eddie let it go at first, thinking that's just how Buck was grieving, but it didn't seem to be just that.
His suspicions had been confirmed after he received a late-night next from, surprisingly, Lena Bosko.
Bosko:Saw one of your guys at your old punching ground. 118, right?
Eddie's eyes widened as he read the message, his posture straightening on the couch next to Chris. Luckily the teen was distracted by the Marvel movie they'd been watching.
Bosko:Tall, curly hair, blonde
Bokso:Sound familiar?
You:Yeah, is he still there?
Eddie anxiously waited for a reply, his knee bouncing as his thoughts raced inside of his skull. What was Buck doing there? Was he okay? Is he in danger?
His thoughts were interrupted by another text.
Bosko: Nah, he left not too long ago
Eddie let out a sigh of relief, glad to know that Buck was still there. But that didn't make his fears go away, he still needed to talk to Buck about this.
"Dad?" Chris asked, causing Eddie to look up from his phone.
"Yeah, Mijo?" He knew his words sounded shaky, but he couldn't control it.
"What's wrong?"
"I-" He couldn't lie to Chris, not after everything that's happened between them recently. "I don't know. Something's wrong with Buck and I-" He shook his head. "I don't know."
"Is he okay?"
"I'm not sure..."
☼
What is it they say? Fourth time's the charm?
Well, that's what Buck hoped. It was his fourth night in a row now, this time he might've gotten a concussion. The bright lights hurt his eyes and his punches were landing wrong. He could still hit, but they didn't do as much as he wanted them to. Actually, he didn't want to be punching at all. But, this made the emptiness more bearable. Getting hit over and over and over again was a great distraction, he finally understood why Eddie used to come here.
Speaking of Eddie, Buck might be hallucinating because he saw Eddie's face in the crowd. Those brown eyes watching him with concern and... Guilt?
"Eds..?" He whispered, barely even loud enough for himself to hear.
Another hit to the face sent Buck to the ground and he definitely was concussed. After the hit he just took, there was no way he wasn't. He got up, but didn't stay up for long. With a weak groan, he let his opponent win.
Suddenly, he was sitting in the passenger seat of someone's car, hissing as they pressed a towel against the cut on his forehead.
"The hell were you thinking, Buck? You could've gotten yourself killed out there tonight?"
He knew that voice. He liked that voice.
"Eds?"
"Oh, don't 'Eds' me, Buck. You had me worried sick! And rightfully so." The brunette scolded, pressing a bandage over his injury. "What were you even doing here?"
"Jeez, you're not my mom. Leave'm alone. M'fine."
Eddie scoffed. "No, no you aren't. Slurred speech, loss of consciousness, dizziness, fatigue, delayed responses- those are all signs of a concussion."
"Why are you here?"
"To take care of you, idiot."
"Okay, how'd you know I was here?" Buck asked, brushing Eddie's hand away as the other man reached out to clean Buck's busted lip.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Bosko told me. You weren't that smart when you chose the same place I used to go to."
"Well, I didn't think you'd find out 'cause you weren't here."
Eddie's eyes widened. "How long have you been doing this?"
Buck sheepishly looked away, pretending like he didn't hear his friend's question.
"Buck, tell me."
"It started after you left."
"You've been doing this the whole time?!" Eddie asked, his voice raised with panic and anger flooding into his tone.
"Shh, sh! No yelling!" Buck replied, basically whispering as he covered his ears.
"Are you hungover too?!"
"SHH!"
Both of them stayed silent for a moment, Eddie waited for Buck's response with a stern expression and crossed arms.
"It hasn't been the whole time..." Buck finally admitted. "I slowed down once you came back, but..." He trailed off, letting his hands fall into his lap.
"But?" Eddie asked, impatiently.
He sighed, ducking his head to avoid eye contact with Eddie. He couldn't stand to see the disappointment and anger in his friend's eyes. "Everything was different after..." He swallowed thickly, still unable to bring himself to say that Bobby was dead out loud. "After Bobby. I felt so alone and empty. It felt like everyone was leaving me again and I-" He knew he was crying, but he didn't care. "I couldn't take it anymore!"
For a while, Eddie didn't say anything. Neither did Buck.
Carefully, slowly, Buck felt arms wrap around him. A large, warm hand slipped into his hair, combing through the curls. Fingernails gently scratching his scalp. It felt nice. His body relaxed and he practically slumped forward against Eddie, too exhausted to keep himself upright any longer. He wanted to go home. To curl up in Eddie's arms and fall asleep on the couch, waking up to the house that had his two favorite people living in it.
"C'mon, let's take you to the hospital. We'll make sure you aren't seriously injured, then you can go to sleep. Okay, bud?" Buck recognized that tone. It was the same one Eddie used on Christopher when he was little, comforting him when he got hurt or upset.
"...okay."