Chapter Text
When they took Bobby’s body out of that lab, Buck just fell down to his knees.
He knows Bobby asked him for a moment alone with Athena so he fulfilled that wish, yet guilt overcomes him thinking he left Bobby alone to die, he walked away, he couldn’t face it.
When Buck was finally able to walk out, he felt so alone.
There was Hen, Karen by her side, both crying, together. And Chimney was also there, on the phone with Maddie, crying his soul out as she silently sobbed and tried to comfort him, they had each other. And Ravi was somewhere too, but he’s not the one Buck needed. So Buck fell down to his knees, he needed Bobby, he needed Eddie, he had no fucking one.
They’re gonna need you, Bobby told him, but he looked around and everyone had someone to lean on, someone who was not him, someone better. You’re gonna be ok, Buck looked up to the sky, and he wondered how he could ever be ok again.
He walked back home alone. Under a dark, gloomy sky, surrounded by traffic sounds and club music and people who just didn’t understand, no one could, but also he didn’t want anyone to get his pain, his pain was his only, because his heart breaking into pieces was a testament to Bobby’s life, as close as he’s ever gonna get to feel him all around. He needs this ache to engulf him and smother him and break him apart, if only to feel closer to him.
It’s 2 am when he finally calls Eddie.
“Buck?” he says on the other side of his phone, clearly just waking up.
“H-hey, Eddie, I-I… I-”
“What’s going on?”
“We… uh, we… there– fuck, it’s–”
“Is everything ok?"
“No, uh– I mean, yeah, it’s–” his shaky breath keeps him from talking, his voice quivers, he tries his damn best but there’s just no way he’ll be able to say it without crying.
“Buck, what happened?” he urges, this time with obvious concern in his voice.
“Bobby, uhm– oh, god” he sobs “Bobby died”
There’s utter silence for a minute.
“What?” Eddie says, his throat closing in.
“He’s gone, Eds” he fully cries “There was this call, and– and he… it happened a few hours ago, he- I-I don’t know, it- he got this… this super-virus a-and a few hours later h-he collapsed and he… he died”
Buck can hear him through the line, his labored breath, weeping “I- this can’t be happening”
“It is”
"Are you ok? Is anyone else hurt?"
"I- yes, uhm, Hen was hurt, Ravi too, Chimney almost died, I- I'm the onle one who got out unscratched"
“I’ll be there” he says with a shaky voice “I gotta go”
Eddie ends the call. Buck looks at the phone with a growing void in his chest. He continues crying well into sunrise.
Somewhere around day two Eddie comes home, he knocks on the door for a good ten minutes, he calls his phone a hundred times, and when he gets no answer he's not surprised, Buck hasn't answered since he called to tell him the news, so Eddie just lets himself in. He finds Buck in bed, and every attempt he makes at starting a conversation ends up pointless, so he just shuts up and lays in bed next to him, thinking Buck needs some more time, he will try again tomorrow.
And suddenly five days have passed. Buck hasn’t been able to go to work, if it weren’t for Eddie, who told him the department is giving the whole team a few days off, Buck would think he probably is fired by now, and for the first time in his life he wouldn’t care if he is. He’s stayed in that same bed, looking at the ceiling as he cries and goes numb, as he goes over that fucking day in his mind trying to figure out how he could have saved Bobby.
He’s spent so much time looking at that ceiling that by now he knows it better than he knows himself. Which isn’t saying a lot, because lately Buck avoids himself as much as he can. That ceiling, on the other hand, is always there, plain white, not a trace of a brushstroke or paint bubbling, it's smooth and clean. One night he thought he saw dried off glue marks. At first he figured the old renters had some nightlights stuck to the ceiling, those fluorescent stars people glue on so little kids don’t get scared sleeping alone. But then he blinked, and he realized the ceiling was the same as always, clean, not a trace of anything. Sometimes he stares at it hoping he gets to imagine some sign of life covering that perfectly smooth concrete.
Buck could spend hours on end going on about that damn ceiling. Not because it deeply depresses him (which, it does, it’s depressing how new it looks, the noticeable lack of use, not a trace of anything resembling life, as if no one ever lived under it, as if it never listened to someone laughing or crying, no marks attesting to anything ever happening there) nor because it’s an interesting ceiling (which, it’s not, at the end of the day it’s just a white ceiling, something no one ever pays attention to) nor because he’s ever thought about how he would change it (he hasn’t, at least not successfully, he’s tried and nothing comes to mind, he’s not bothered by it anymore), no, Buck could talk for hours on end about that ceiling because this days he spends most of his time lying on his back, on the bed, on the couch, on the floor, always looking at that ceiling, trying not to think, not to feel, and all those attempts at ignoring life translate into new ways of overthinking about the damn ceiling. Buck could teach a four week masterclass on it. Ceiling: dichotomy of being.
He hears someone at the door. Someone rings the bell for a couple of minutes, so he closes his eyes and lays on his side, his back to the door, just so he gets to pretend he’s asleep in case someone goes in there. A couple minutes later his phone starts ringing, the phone Eddie keeps charging since Buck could let it die without a care, but he doesn’t even look at it, he keeps his eyes closed hoping whoever is there goes away. It’s maybe ten minutes later when the loud silence inhabits the place again. He opens his eyes, and only then he realizes tears are now streaming down his face and onto the pillow.
For a moment, lying on his side, he wishes the ceiling were on the wall. Because the wall is not something he knows that well, the wall has windows and frames and furniture against it and a whole lot of stuff that he avoids looking at because it makes him feel overwhelmed and like he’s being choked. The ceiling is safe though, the ceiling depresses him, but he knows it inch by inch, and right now, looking at the wall, he only wishes he were looking at the ceiling instead. But he doesn’t turn, he doesn’t think he deserves anything but the dread and anguish that overcomes him when he looks at the wall.
He can’t tell if minutes or hours go by, but from the bed, that very same place he hasn’t moved from all day, he can look through the window at the sun that unbeknownst to him came out at some point, he can see cars driving by, and even though he knows it’s not possible, he would even say he can feel the Earth moving, going around the sun, on its own axis, yet he doesn’t feel capable of moving his own body, so he remains in bed, silently crying.
The day goes on, and then he hears the front door opening, followed by soft footsteps, and then the door to the room opening. Buck closes his eyes again.
“Buck” he hears Eddie’s soft, concerned voice “Have you eaten anything?”
No answer, just more tears flushing his face.
“It’s six in the afternoon”
Buck didn’t know that. Even though every passing minute crushes him with a new wave of sadness and the day feels everlasting, he hadn’t thought about hours or time. But he hasn’t really slept in two days, he figures that’s more urgent than one day without eating.
“I’ll get you something”
“No” he finally manages to whisper “I’ll get some sleep”
“Ok, but you still gotta eat”
“Not hungry”
“Fine” he sighs as he sits down next to him on the bed “Are you, uhm, in any pain? Like, physical”
“Just tired”
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Mhm”
Eddie gently grabs him by the shoulder, tired of talking to his back, he softly pulls him so Buck is now lying on his back and Eddie gets to look at his face “That’s not an answer”
Buck doesn’t say anything, he just feels a little more at ease now that he’s looking at the ceiling again. He thinks maybe he should’ve rolled over hours ago.
“Talk to me, Buck, yes, no, just say something”
“Yes”
“Have you been crying?”
As a reflex, Buck closes his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Buck, please say something, anything, I can’t keep trying to force the words out of you just to know how to help you”
“I’m fine”
“You usually spend the whole day lying in bed and crying when you’re fine?”
“Just tired”
“Fine” he says, deciding today is not the day Buck opens up either, that’s ok, he’ll try again tomorrow, Buck just needs more time. However, Buck’s chest hurts at the tone of his voice, he thinks it sounds slightly angry, fed up. He understands, of course he does, but it still hurts.
“I’m sorry”
Eddie doesn’t say anything else, he just lies next to him, looking at the ceiling too, and in the silence they get to listen to each other's breathing, like the only proof of life.
That ceiling above them, tucking them in, looking after them, a shelter hovering over them like a hug, it has seen them laugh and cry, tease each other, fight each other, it’s seen them days and nights when they’re together and when they’re apart, that ceiling is the home of thousand of memories set on stone. Yet, for the first time in forever, that ceiling now overlooks their uncertainty. For the first time, there’s not a foreseeable future for them.
Buck hates that fucking ceiling.
When he wakes up, somehow his head is resting on Eddie's chest. He managed to sleep seven whole hours, which he hadn't since a week ago. However, he pulls away while Eddie still sleeps, he doesn't want him to realize he ended up lying on top of him.
He sighs. He thinks this is probably the worst time to realize he's in love with Eddie. Because he also realizes he’s gonna kill himself.
He's spent days trying to talk himself out of it but he just can’t find a good enough counterargument. Right now he realizes he has to go through with it, he sets his mind on the idea.
It’s all laid out in front of him, really. He adds it to the list of things he hates himself for, turns out Tommy and Maddie were right, because under the crushing weight of his guilt and the paralyzing grief inhabiting him and that anger running through his veins, he can still catch a glimpse of his own heart swooning at the touch of Eddie, and as he thinks of ending it all he also buries himself under wishful thinking of things being different so he doesn’t have to leave Eddie behind, as he writes suicide notes in his mind he realizes his only regret is he won’t have nearly enough time with Eddie, and even if he tries to push back his death he doesn’t think he will ever feel like he had enough time by his side, he doesn’t think even a million years could be enough.
As he decides he has to die, heartache drags him down even more, because Eddie’s face appears before him and he can only think in another life. How beautiful would it be if he weren’t so broken and sick with sadness so maybe they could make sense, but truth is they never stood a chance. And like many things in his life, Buck reckons it’s his own fault only.
This pain inside him is just too much to deal with, and being in love with his best friend is just something he can’t allow himself to do, it's too much, too greedy, he doesn't get to break him like he breaks everything he touches. He doesn’t get to use him as a reason to stay alive, that would be selfish, Eddie doesn’t deserve being dragged into his mess.
And if he's being honest, it's been a long time coming, he's on borrowed time already and maybe it's time he stops escaping death.
The truth is, he should be dead already.
When that truck fell on his leg, a few inches up and he could’ve just as easily ended up completely crushed by the truck, his skull squeezed like a watermelon. He should've died then.
Or maybe those clots. Had his coughing blood episode happened an hour earlier, when he was at home alone, and that would've been it, he would've fulfilled his destiny already.
Or that tsunami. He should've died then, walking for hours while bleeding out, exerting himself trying to find Chris, who was only there because of him, he endengeared someone he loves so much just for the sake of it, didn't he? He should've died then so he never had a chance to do it again.
And let’s not forget that lightning strike. He did die that time, he finally did what he was supposed to and he managed to screw it up and come back to life, he got it right then and somehow he turned around and escaped destiny once again. He shouldn’t have.
What's it all for anyway? Why if the universe keeps telling him he's not supposed to be here, why does he keep acting like he knows better? Wouldn't it be easier for everyone if he just gives in?
He knows they don’t need him. And maybe he’ll stop being something they all gotta deal with.
“I can see you” Eddie says after a while, waking up “You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, Buck”
Buck doesn’t answer.
“Please talk to me” he pleads, feeling like he’s about to cry.
“I-I… I just…”
Eddie waits, he looks at him with begging eyes, wishing for an answer, hoping Buck gets it off his chest, holding out for even the tiniest speck of hope that Buck will open up, that he’ll tell him all of the ways he’s not ok right now so maybe they talk to each other and accompany each other in this grief instead of isolating themselves.
Eddie realizes Buck is not gonna say anything before he realizes his face is flooded with tears.
“I’m terrified” Eddie says, thinking maybe he’ll start, maybe if he builds the bridge first Buck will just follow “I- when you called and told me, and I- waking up in the middle of the night… to that news, sitting alone in the dark, trying to keep it together so I don’t scare the crap out of my kid… and when he woke up, I had to tell him another person he loved was dead”
Buck sobs, quietly “I’m sorry”
“He saved my life and I wasn't there to save his… and a part of me will always wonder, if I was there could I have made a difference?”
“I did everything I could” he says like he’s asking for forgiveness.
“Yeah, but I didn’t” he retorts “I wasn’t there”
“You couldn’t have known”
“Neither could you, yet you blame yourself, don’t you?”
“It’s not the same”
“You have to give yourself some credit, man, you were there, you had a chance to try, to say goodbye… God, I was out getting groceries when all of that went down and didn’t even find out until hours after the fact! I should've been there!”
“What use is a chance if you waste it?”
“How did you waste it?”
“I couldn’t even tell him I love him” he mutters, eyes watery “He stood there, dying, saying he loves me and I froze, I couldn’t even say it back! I fucking froze and…” he sobs, not being able to continue.
“He knew” he tries to comfort him.
“Please stop”
“Uh?”
“Get mad at me, tell me all the ways I screwed up”
“I don’t–”
“You’re going back to Texas” he says, like an accusation “And you don’t even dare to tell me”
“Who told you?”
“Be honest with me!” he yells, furious all of the sudden “You’ve all been tiptoeing around me behind my back, like I’m too fragile to accept the truth”
“Buck–”
“Tell me!” he finds a way to yell “Goddamit, you wanna help me? Make me feel better? Be fucking honest with me! Don’t treat me like I’m gonna break!”
“I’m not”
Buck realizes he’s gonna have to start pushing buttons “I mean, I know this was never really home for you, but have some decency and be honest!”
“Not this again” he groans.
“You don’t have it in you to tell me, you can’t be bothered because it’s all the same to you”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, befuddled.
“Of course you’re not telling me the truth because you don’t care that I’m losing my mind, you’re just waiting for your first chance to get out and back to Texas”
“What truth?” he’s raising his voice now too.
“Y’all keep secrets like you getting the job in Texas because– god, you act like I’m some fragile insane person who can’t deal with anything”
“Can you blame us? Look at how you’re acting now” he finally snaps.
“You really think I wouldn’t have been happy for you?”
“I know you wouldn’t, you’d make it all about you, the trials and tribulations of Evan Buckley, a tragedy in 97 acts… you’ve been spiraling, since it happened, and nobody knows how to talk to you about it”
“What, because I’m sad he died?”
“You’re not the only one who lost him! We all did!”
“Yeah, I– I’m sorry”
“I’m not blaming you, Buck! No one is, I’m blaming me”
Buck goes quiet again, so Eddie groans and stands up.
“You want me to yell at you? Fine, I’ll humor you, we’re all worried about you, you’ve shut us all out! And we get it, you need time, we’re all dealing with this in a different way, but I… God, nobody is doing it alone, except you and me, and I need you, Buck, I need you to navigate this with me because I don’t know how to do it without you, I want you to… to sit here in the dark with me so we can cry and mourn and be alone together, I need you to let me in because you can’t do this alone either, it’s tearing you apart, it’s not doing you any good and I’m terrified you’re slipping away from me, too far away for us to close the distance ever again, and I can’t have that, I can’t lose you too so I need you to do this with me, please, please let me in, let me help”
Buck looks at him with tears in his eyes. Because this is yet another way for him to let Eddie down. Eddie doesn’t realize it yet, but the Buck he knew has faded away already. Eddie’s asking for a version of Buck that doesn’t exist anymore, he’s now the shell of the man he used to be, empty in the inside, someone who no longer can walk side by side with Eddie because he doesn’t even know himself anymore, a Buck who is so far away is not even a ghost, it’s the void of a life that doesn’t exist anymore. Eddie is failing to realize Buck is already missing, even if he’s not left yet.
It will be better when he leaves, when he destroys that deceitful shell so Eddie stops longing for someone who is not coming back, so Eddie realizes he’s better off without that nothingness in disguise.
“I need you to let go” Buck finally says, as collected as he manages to “Because I can’t help you”
Eddie seems flabbergasted for a second, he gapes and his face goes from utter shock to a devastating sadness, he lets out a shaky gasp that’s been suffocating his lungs, all the muscles in his face move and scrunch like he’s trying his damn best not to cry, he looks up, trying to send the tears away, and then he rushes out of the room, seconds after, he rushes out of the house.
Buck looks at the place where Eddie last stood, and he knows it might hurt now, but Eddie will soon understand, Eddie will be able to realize it’s for the best, everything is better when it’s untouched by Buck, when he doesn’t infect it all with his perpetual sorrow.
Quickly, Buck finds a notebook on the nightstand, a pen, and he starts writing his notes.
When he’s done, he gets out of the bed for the first time in what feels like forever.
He takes a quick shower, he makes a last effort.
He gets in his LAFD jumper, because despite anything, that’s the only home he ever knew.
It takes him some time to decide how he’s gonna do it. He doesn’t want something too public that traumatizes a bunch of innocent bystanders, like jumping in front of the subway or from a tall building, he doesn’t want anything too dramatic, like hanging himself from the Hollywood sign, he wants it to be private enough so nobody finds him in time to save him, but he doesn’t want it to be too private so nobody ever finds him, he knows that that kind of uncertainty is a heavy load to carry for the people that might be waiting on news. He doesn’t own a gun, he thinks trying to drown himself in the ocean might come off as a bit of a copycat, he’s not sure what kind of pills or how many to take for it to work, he also doesn’t have any.
He takes a black jacket, he anticipates it will be chilly.
Finally, he walks out of the house, because the last thing he wants it’s for Eddie to find his body when he comes back.
He has a plan.
“Maddie?” Eddie’s soft voice sounds shivering, like he’s crying.
“Hi, Eddie, what’s up?” she asks, frowning at the obvious dread in his voice.
“I– uh, you have to come”
“Where?”
“Hospital”
Maddie suddenly feels her heartbeat in her throat “Why?”
“It’s– Buck, he… you need to come”
“Eddie, what happened to Buck?” she says, starting to panic.
“I don’t know” he sobs “I– I’m sorry, I left, we kind of argued so I walked out and when I came back he wasn’t there”
Maddie feels a tint of relief, trying to remain calm, trying to be Eddie’s lifeline. “Oh, no, Eddie, just because he isn’t there doesn’t mean–”
“No, no, no” he cuts her off “Then they called, he still has me as his emergency contact so they called me when they brought him in”
“To the hospital? Why did they bring him there?”
“I don’t know! He– they said he was found on the street, he– I think he had an accident, he crashed a bike? A motorcycle, I– paramedics, they– they said he ended up under the truck, this giant truck he crashed”
“What? When did he get a bike?”
“I don’t know”
“Where was he even going?”
There’s silence for a moment.
“I found these letters” he finally says “In the house, one addressed to you, one to Chim, to Hen, to Chris… to me”
“What do you mean?”
“I think he– I think this was very intentional, Maddie, I– I think he was trying to kill himself”
Maddie is left speechless. She sees her little brother, six years old running around the very silent house, eight years old and crushing his bike, twelve years old and doing tricks on that damn skateboard, fifteen, twenty, twenty six, always chasing waterfalls, never still, always looking for something, she so clearly sees him and tries to pinpoint the exact moment this kind of behaviour started so maybe she figures out how could’ve she stopped it. She’s crying, tears rolling down her face, and she’s so mad.
“Maddie?” Eddie asks after a minute.
“Text me where, I’m on my way” and she hangs up.