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You’re my favorite sound, my favorite hue
You’re my only friend, my freedom too
Among a thousand stars in the cold night sky
I walk to you, step by step, yet still too far to find
"Broken Love" by Kate Soul
Buck slowly regains conciousness. His head is pounding, the ground beneath him feels unsteady, body dump with sweat and clothes are clinging to his legs, stomack, collar diging into his neck. The only thing that doesn’t seem to hurt are his shoulders and arms, maybe, because he can’t feel them at all. Whats` happening?
The light is too bright for his eyes and only makes the headache worse, so he tries to listen to the sounds around him to get at least some clue about where he is. He hears a quiet wind, and something like sand softly brushing against the walls of the building. A faint electric hum. And that’s it. Not much… too quiet… It doesn’t seem like there are other people here; he can’t even hear the sound of cars outside. At that a thought sparks in his mind and vanishes just as quickly. Later... He’ll remember later... now he just breathes, trying to stay calm and gather strenght to open his eyes and look around.
The air smells of hot, dry earth, dust, gasoline, and blood. Shit. The blood is his, isn’t it?
Buck slowly breaathes in. Yeap. Ribs definitely broken.
He tries moving his legs, and a sharp pain shoots through him, forcing out a quiet groan. His bad leg is definitely not happy with the situation. Now the arms. Come on, Buck, you can do this. Fingers move - good. Wrists… tied? Something hard presses against his forearms and upper arms… is he tied to something? Shoulders burn, which means he’s been in this position for a while. His neck and back don’t hurt, so maybe he can try to get up later. That’s going to be a tricky task, especially since he’s tied to something.
Slowly opening his eyes he tries to focus and see at least something through the fog in his eyesight and his head. Pieces start falling into place, one by one.
I’m screwed.
Okay. Breathe. What do we have? Tied to some post in the middle of an empty wooden shed. Whose clothes are these? Did someone put them on me? Fuck… covered in blood… hope it’s mine, not…
Buck suddenly takes a sharp breath, hissing in pain. He was in the car, coming home from Nashville, and with him was… Eddie.
Eddie.
Wheres` Eddie?
Not able to contain his emotions and the energy rushing through his body at that thought, feeling like he has to do at leat something, he tries to move, get up and he’s out again…
Cold water splashes all over Buck. It hits him suddenly right at the face. It fills his mouth, nose, crowls under his eyelids. He feels like he’s drowning. Grasping for air he surges to move up through the waves. His limbs wont listen to him. He’s helpless and alone and somwhere over there is Chris, he needs to find him. He needs to move. He cant give up. Wy its so painful to move? With another ripple of pain through his shoulders he starts to remember where he is.
“Hello, boy. I could wait anymore for you to wake up. I need some answers”, – he hears an old woman’s voice.
“I need some answers too”,- He thinks but stays quiet.
“Who is Chris?” - she asks. And if cold water and pain hadn’t fully brought him to, the mention of Chris certainly did.
“What..?” - Buck croaks in reply, licking the drops of water on his cracked lips. I’m so thirsty...
“Chris. You just called for him. Poor boy lost his friend?” - this woman is seriously getting on his nerves. Ha, wonder why?
Carefully opening his eyes, Buck takes in the woman in front of him. He feels like he’s seen her somewhere before, but where?.. About 60 years old, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. Short blonde hair curls just above her shoulders, forming a halo around her head that glows in the few rays of light filtering into the shed. She looks like a sweet grandmother, which makes it all the more confusing why she’s acting like a total bitch. Did she drag me here? How the hell?
“Where am I? Where is Eddie? What do you want from me?” - Buck asks. He’s not going to discuss Christopher with this lady.
She looks at him silently for a second or two and then makes a sudden, sharp movement and it’s - first, far too nimble for her age, and second, way too fast for Buck with his pounding headache. He feels something press into his side, and then a jolt of electricity shoots through his body.
His back arches violently, sending even more strain through his already exhausted, taut shoulders. His muscles spasm uncontrollably, ribs trembling from the shock, and a wave of nausea hits him all at once. His jaw locks, breath catches in his throat, and his limbs twitch. Sparks of pain shoot along his spine and down his arms; every nerve feels ablaze. And then, suddenly, she pulls the taser away.
He curls up, vomiting bile onto the ground beside him. Gasping to catch his breath through the ringing in his ears, he hears her softly click her tongue. Tsk-tsk-tsk.
“Darling. You didn’t earn the right to ask questions. Behave, give me answers , and then you’ll go back to your friend, though I doubt he’s still alive,” she says, smiling, in a tone that oddly reminds him of his mother. Evan, what where you thinking?
Buck is trembling, his muscules still twitching uncontrollably.
“Where s`Eddie..?” he won’t give up. He can’t give up.
This time he knows what’s coming. Buck tenses every muscle, bracing himself. The electricity surges through him like fire chasing through every nerve. His vision flickers. The world tilts and blurs, and even though he’s braced for it, the shock steals his breath, his control, his very sense of himself for a moment.
He collapses back, trembling, gasping, bile rising in his throat. Stupid. It was stupid.
“I see. You’re not ready to talk yet,” she says, disappointed, turning toward the door. Exit. “I’ll be back later. For now, think about your behavior, boy.”
“No, NO! Wait! Tell me where Eddie`!” Buck shouts, trying to reach her.
She stops sharply, right by the doorway. Slowly, she turns back to him, tilts her head to the side, and with a sad, pitying smile, says:
“Oh, your friend… He didn’t look too good the last time I saw him,” she sighs. “There was so much blood in your car, I can’t be sure he was alive when we drove away, darlin’.”
Eddie’s… dead? NO… He can’t be… He’s not…
Buck understands too late that he was saying it all aloud. She lunges at him and, with the words «Just shut up already» slams the taser against his temple.
This time, as he loses consciousness, the only thought in his mind is EddieEddieEddie
You can have my back any day. Eddie has to be alive. Otherwise, none of this matters. I don’t matter. You act like you're expendable. But you’re wrong. There’s nobody I trust more with my son than you. Chris. Chris matters.
Now he remembers all. The drive, the car accident. Remembers how he woke up at the car, and saw this woman standing near Eddie’s side of the car. She was holding a gun, pointing it at Eddies had. Eddie was still. So still. And she told Buck to go with her or she’ll put a bullet at Eddie’s head to make sure he was dead. Eddie can’t be dead. Buck remembers going to her car and then he remembers nothing. Just pitch black noise, filled with pain.
Buck feels like he’s being rocked by gentle waves. He rises to the surface, then slips underwater again. But it’s never enough. He can’t take a full breath, and he can’t drown either.
It must be all in his head — the delicate touch of something cool on his brow. Hand moves gently, whispering quiet words he can almost hear. Leaning into the touch, he lets out a quiet, relieved sigh. Tired. So tired. He’s allowed a few more fleeting, aching moments of comfort before the touch vanishes. He reaches further toward it, but it’s gone. A quiet whimper escapes his lips.
“Hush, my boy. You’re back home, and I’ll look after you,” - her voice snaps him out of his calm, “all you have to do is talk to me.”
Buck lets out a whimper. For a moment he thought he’s free. For a moment he felt Eddie’s hands on his face, heard his voise. But he’s still in the old dusty shed in the middle of nowhere with a crazy old woman who just wants to talk. And Eddie…
“I’ll talk”, - Buck rasped.
“Good boy. See? Just a little reflection on your behavior was all it took,” - she replies with a smile.
A glass of water floats before Buck’s face, and he reaches for it without hesitation, thirst overwhelming him. The gulp he takes scorches his dry throat but also seds a sudden rush of relief through him. Buck’s eyes widened briefly: the cold, the water, awakened his nerves, his mind stirring from fatigue, and his body trembled. He can’s stop, yet feares to continue. Why does she care? The glass is gone. Buck feels a sudden wave of nausea.
“That’s better. You’re so hoarse, darling. It’s okay, everything will be fine,” the woman said. “Now tell me, why did you leave?”
Buck stares at her, confused. When had he left, where, and why did it matter so much to her? What was happening?
“Alright, lets try again,” she says. “ Was it hard to leave someone you love, and even more so, someone who loves you?”
Eddie. Buck left him to die in the car. Buck hadn’t fought. Buck had walked away. It was unbearably hard. Harder than anything else he had ever done. Tears ran down his face, stinging his torn lips. He is sobbing, begging for forgiveness.
“Yes, yes, yes. It was fucking hard. How could I?” Buck couldn’t breathe. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t…”
Buck chokes on his crying.
“That’s right, you shouldn’t have,” she said. “But good on you for feeling guilty. That means there’s still hope for you. I’ll bring you something to eat, darling.”
Buck is alone again. Alone again. Buck was used to that. For a long time in his life he had nobody. Parents? Didn’t care. Maddie? Left. Abby? Left. He found a family, made it. 118 at whole and Eddie, of course. Things were good for a while. But Buck didn’t deserve good. It just wasn’t in his cards. Eddie left to Texas. Bobby… And when it seemed that everything was going back to normal. He. Left. Eddie. He let down Chris. So everything that was coming next, hell, he deserved it.
The sound of the shed door opening pulls him out of the stream of his thoughts. He hears footsteps, and slowly opens his eyes and…
He sees Eddie. Bruised and beaten, but alive and breathing. Eddie kneeling next to him and the look on his face is filled with worry and a glimpse of sorrow.
“I’m sorry, Eddie”, - Buck brakes in sobs again. Had he ever cried so much before?
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m good,” Eddie answers. “Thank God, you’re alive. We need to go Buck. She’ll be back soon.”
“E-Eddie, how did you?..”
“Find you? I’m always near, man. We’ll talk about it later but we need to go. Now.”
“My hands are tied, Eddie. Help…”
“You’ll need to do this by yourself,” Eddie doesn’t move an inch to free him from restrains.
“But…” Buck watches with horror how Eddie’s face suddenly changes.
His skin loses that special golden glow. His eyes, normally the warm color of dark chocolate, grow dim and veiled, the gaze inside them hollow. His smile becomes a snarl, and the shape of bone shows faintly beneath his skin. Buck notices the blood caught behind Eddie’s teeth, and when Eddie runs his tongue over his dry, thin lips, it dyes them a dark, frightening crimson before dripping slowly to the floor.
Eddie reaches closer and the smell of metal and death reaches Bucks nose.
“You gave up on me, but don’t you dare give up on Chris,” - Eddie whispers in the thin air between them.
Buck can’t catch a breath. Bile rises up in his throat. And he starts twisting his arms, trying do set himself free but he’s not strong enough, his body giving up on him. He can’t even hold his head anymore and at the edge of blacking out, he gathers the last of his strength to whisper: I thought I was saving you. I didn’t want this… I didn’t want to give up. I promised to have your back… Chris… I’ll keep fighting while I still can.
The shed door slams loudly, pulling Buck out of his daze, but he no longer wants to lift his eyes. He doesn’t want to see Eddie, Bobby or anybody else who can come in to torture him some more.
The woman walks in, holding a plate with an apple pie. The smell of it fills the dusty space of the shed, and Buck’s stomach growls loudly.
“I’m ba-ack,” the woman announces, almost singing. “I brought your favorite pie. But you’ll only get it if you behave nicely. I’m so so glad you’re ready to talk. If you only knew how long I’ve waited and hoped we’d get a chance like this. And here you are. Appearing in front of me as if all those years never happened. But that’s alright - we’ll make up for lost time, won’t we? I’ll take care of you. That’s what you want, right?”
“I want to go back to my family,” Buck answers quietly. He can’t understand even half of what she was saying.
“Of course, dear. You’ve been through so much.” The woman stepping closer to him. “Now tell me… why did you leave?”
Buck burst out laughing - and can’t stop. He sees the woman growing more and more furious, but he can’t rein himself in. He doubles over with laughter, tears streaming down his face.
“You! It was you! Your fault! All of it! I would’ve never left if it weren’t for you!” he shouted. His voice, already wrecked, now came out sharp and whistling. “ Why the hell are you asking me when it was all you!”
She looked at him with eyes so full of rage and poison they could have wiped out a city. Buck didn’t even have the strength to react when the plate, with the sweet-smelling pie, flew at him, smashed against the post above his head, and rained shards of ceramic, pastry, and apples down on him.
She takes the taser and, well, it was going to end like this anyway, right?
Will she ever stop?
She returns later that day, when the shed starts to darken, still trying to get an answer to her question. But Buck doesn’t want to. He can’t. He doesn’t have the strength to figure out what she expects him to say. She comes at night, in the morning, and over and over again. Sometimes Buck doesn’t even realize she’s there until another shock hits him or cold water splashes across his face. He sinks deeper into his own mind, into the darkness left behind after all his thoughts have drifted away.
Minutes, hours, days, weeks… might as well be years…
He doesn’t know how long he’s been here. Hell, he doesn’t know where exactly he is. Soon he’ll forget his own name, but he’ll never forget his.
Chris.
He needs to survive to come back to him. Chris needs him. He can’t end up as one more name on the list of people that boy has lost. Even if he’s not sure he can ever look that boy in the eyes again, after what he did.
So he takes another breath, even though it hurts like hell. And this time something shifts.
All of a sudden Buck feels something pressing sharply into his wrist. He tries to move his hand and feels the restraints tighten, a faint crack of ripped fabric reaching his ears. This small effort is enough to drain him, and darkness takes him again.
When he comes to again, the shed is sweltering. The air is dry, each breath scorching his lungs. His skin feels like a tight suit, stretched and ready to tear at the seams. But he doesn’t give up. He has to fight to get back home.
Buck leans forward with his torso and feels the fabric at his wrists stretch and crack more and more. And suddenly he’s face down in the dirt. His hands are free, but every movement sends pain shooting through his entire body. A hysterical laugh bursts from his lips — and in that instant, it scares him. He can’t draw attention. He’s barely found the strength to bend forward, and right now he’ll be losing the battle — not just to this sixty-year-old woman, but to a little five-year-old girl if one would decide to capture and torture him.
Lying there, he searches for the strength to stand.
And he remembers Chris, again. That funny little kid who, in the face of a terrible natural disaster, stayed brave and kept swimming. Like Dory.
Buck lifts one limb and thinks of Chris, lifts the other and mourns Eddie, rises from the ground and mourns Bobby, recalling his words that with the right tools, you can get out of anywhere and now his body is his tool, he just needs to use it right. He takes a step and thinks of Maddie, of how strong she had to be to leave Doug, he takes the next step, and another after that. All he has left is to keep taking one step, and then another, and then another.
He reaches the door and stops to catch his breath. In his mind, he screams at the universe, begging for help. Begging for freedom, begging to reach his family. Well, at least, if that woman grabs him, Eddie will have been proven right. And with that he opens the door.
The sun has passed its peak and begins to lean toward the horizon, scorching and blinding. Once his eyes adjust, Buck realizes he’s in the middle of a wasteland, with nothing for miles around except the old broken road, the shed where he was held, and an abandoned gas station. Silence hangs heavy, and there’s no trace of the woman, her vehicle, or the hellish carriage she most likely used to get around…
And Buck steps forward again.
Step by step. Through the literal desert. Alone, just to find his way home. His steps uneven, his breath shallow, but purpose burned within his soul. He was moving, with all he had left. At sunset, he saw a mirage, or the ghost of a lost friend, a broken promise, a broken love. The ghost’s arms were warm, his palms callused, his voice soft and tender. He somehow smelled like a hospital and felt like home. Buck felt as if he had finally reached his destination.
The first thing Buck heard was the monotone beeping. Hospital? Coma dream? The senond thing—a quiet, steady snore to his right. He felt the weight of a warm hand on his forearm and slowly opened his eyes.
Eddie. Alive. A little battered. But alive.
By Eddie stood Chris’s crutches, and on the chair next to them was Maddie’s bag (impossible to mistake for anyone else’s, decorated as it was by Jee’s designer touch).
Buck sighed with relief, and at that moment Eddie jolted awake. Their eyes met. One heartbeat. A second. A third.
“I thought you were dead,” Buck said.
“I thought you’d died,” Eddie said simultaneously.
They let out a small, shared laugh. Eddie gently took Buck’s hand in his.
“I’m afraid to even imagine what happened to you… If… you want to tell me anything, I’m here,” Eddie murmured softly, uncertainly.
“I thought I’d left you. That I’d broken my promise. That I’d let Chris down,” Buck began quietly, squeezing Eddie’s hand as he tried to protest. “But I fought, Eds. I fought to the last breath to get home. To get back to those I love.”
“And to those who love you, Evan.”
They gazed quietly into each other’s eyes, smiles slowly spreading across their faces. Eddie tilted his head slightly, as if asking, “May I?” Buck barely nodded in response. They’d always understood each other this way – why use words now?
Eddie leaned carefully toward Buck, running his palm along his cheek, his thumb brushing beneath his eye.
“You look awful.”
“So awful that you won’t kis..?”
Buck didn’t finish the sentence before Eddie’s lips met his. His heart skipped a beat - a heartbeat that would probably cause the nurses a flicker of worry - but who cared now?
“I’ll never let you out of my sight again,” Eddie whispered against Buck’s parted lips.
“You know, the good part is that even though kidnapping is traumatic with a capital T… I guess my only new fear now is being bound, tied up, and immobilized after all of this, ” - Buck tries, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Well, we can figure something out to help you with that, darling.”
“Oh, and never call me darling,” - Buck croaks.
“Okay, baby,” kiss, “love,” one more kiss, “sweetheart.”
Even if this is a coma dream, it seems like one worth staying in.
P.S.
You know, being alive feels like such a heavy concept…
You have to know all the rules, the theories, put together all the pieces.
Solve the algorithm, check the numbers, fill in the lists.
As if happiness were a piece of computer code written by someone.
Lie down, stare at the ceiling, think, breathe.
Get out of bed, drink your coffee, finish the last cigarette in the pack.
And take another step
Step outside, meet the sun, feed the stray cat, watch the yellow leaves, on the trees and under your feet, hear the rustle with every step, jump over a puddle but still soak your boots.
And take another step
Return home, hang your socks to dry, turn on the coffee machine and quickly dash to the shower to warm up. And when you smell like some vanilla shower gel, pour yourself a cup of coffee, drink it, burning your tongue a little.
And take another step
Lie under a blanket on the couch, turn on music, a movie, or play some video game, find yourself in the forests, mountains, dragon caves, hear the chatter of elves and dwarves, lose some battles.
Step by step…
Live, live, feel yourself alive,
Inhale, exhale,
One heartbeat after another,
Find your pulse, rediscover your rhythm,
Live, live… and take life one step at a time.