Work Text:
Eddie had been in the middle of restocking the ambulance when Hen had told him. She'd put a gentle hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks, as she'd asked him to put down the vials of medicine he'd been holding.
Then - it was as if his entire world had shattered.
Buck was using drugs. Buck had wanted to steal drugs from the ambulance - his ambulance.
He hadn't - he'd been assured - but that was beside the point. Buck was on drugs.
Was.
As if using it in the past tense made this okay - made any of this okay. How many warning signs had Eddie missed? Had he been high at work? Around Chris?
And why hadn't Buck told him? Opened up to him?
Eddie just couldn't wrap his head around it all. He wanted to go straight to Buck - to ask him, to talk to him, to -
But he wasn't at the firehouse. No, Chimney had called Maddie, and they'd gone back to her place. Temporarily.
After shift, everyone else was going to go to Buck's, search the place for any remaining pills, and then they'd be there for him. That was the plan that Chimney had constructed. Eddie was part of that plan. Of course he was. He'd always be there for Buck. Like Buck had always been there for him - and Chris.
He just wished Buck had confided in him. Some small, tucked away part of him felt jealous at the fact he'd gone to Chimney over him. He knew it was irrational - really, he did, but he couldn't help it.
But here Eddie was, in his truck, outside Buck's place, waiting for everyone else to arrive. Chris was in the passenger seat - he'd brought him along to keep Buck company whilst everyone else turned the house upside down, making sure it was a suitable environment for Buck to recover in. He'd bought a spare change of clothes, too. As well as some bedding.
Karen was going to swing by later to pick up Chris, and he was going to stay with her and the kids for the next few days. Or for however long it took Buck to recover. That was how long Eddie would stay. As long as it took.
"Dad, are you okay?" Chris had asked him, moments after Maddie's car had pulled up with her, Chimney and Buck inside.
He'd told him he'd eaten bad sushi.
"Yeah, bud. I'm okay," he spoke, hating how the lie tasted in his mouth. No, he wasn't okay. Nothing about this was okay. Searching his best friend's house for pills - what part of that was remotely okay?
Chris looked out of the window, where Buck was being helped out of the car by Chimney. "Is Buck going to be okay?"
Eddie's heart ripped open a little at the question. Chris was only fifteen. Only fifteen, and yet -
"I hope so," he replied, not wanting to sugarcoat it too much for his son. "He's got all of us."
"He's got you, dad," was his response.
Eddie blinked back the tears that were starting to form in his eyes, and he smiled at his son, before unbuckling his seat belt. "C'mon, bud. Grab the cards. Don't show mercy," he winked, opening the door and stepping out.
Buck, Maddie and Chimney were already by the front door, and Eddie could hear another car pulling up - Hen.
He helped Chris up to the front door, Hen steadily on their tracks, and they walked into Buck's house.
It felt weird. Eddie had been here many times - frequently. Yet, it was as if he was seeing it in a different light. The way the curtains were closed. The way that darkness seemed to seep out of the walls, invading all of the open space. The forgotten takeout containers on the coffee table. The mountain of dirty plates piled up in the sink. Clothes on the floor.
It was so blindingly obvious, now.
"He's in the garden," Maddie spoke quietly, coming up on his right side.
Eddie barely managed a smile of recognition as he nodded his head, leading Chris towards the sliding glass doors, stepping out onto the veranda, the cool breeze greeting them like a warm welcome.
"Buck!"
Chris' voice seemed to brighten the atmosphere, and from a distance, Eddie could've sworn he saw Buck perk up - even if it was fleeting.
"Hey, buddy!"
Eddie watched as the two most important people in his life reconnected. Buck wrapped his arms around Chris, and it was now that Eddie realised how small Buck had actually become. Maybe it was because he hadn't been around Chris in a little while - or maybe even because Chris had spurted up, but right now Eddie could see how the pills had altered Buck. Changed him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then turned around and went back inside.
He knew Maddie and Chimney were in Buck's bedroom, so he headed into the kitchen, where Hen was rooting through some cupboards by the sink.
"Need a hand in here?" Eddie asked, hands in his pockets.
She stopped what she was doing momentarily, and gave him a thin smile. "That'd be great. I haven't started over that side," she said, motioning to the cupboards above the worktop where Buck had created so many of his delicacies. How long ago those times seemed.
They settled in a soothing silence, and Eddie started to root through his cupboards, moving aside glasses and champagne flutes - flutes that Eddie had not seen once during his many trips to his house - hoping he wouldn't find anything. He prayed there would be nothing here. He wasn't sure he wanted to see it firsthand.
Hen was the first to talk. "How're you holding up?"
Eddie paused momentarily, his hand still gripping a glass. "Me? I - well, I'm fine. Not the one to be worried about, anyway."
Hen sighed. "That's a non-answer, Eddie."
He turned around. "What do you want me to say, Hen? That I asked him so many times if he was okay and he said he was and I believed him? All the while he's been here, popping pills, neglecting his physical and mental health and I just...didn't notice?"
Hen held his gaze, unwavering. "Addicts are very good at deflecting, Eddie. Trust me. It - this isn't your fault. You do know that, don't you?"
Eddie looked down, setting the glass down onto the worktop. "I mean - yeah? I think? I just - I wish I could've been there for him. Helped him through it before it got to this point."
She stepped closer to him, and he could feel her warm energy radiating towards him. "You're here now. We all are. That has to count for something."
He hummed in response as the kitchen grew quiet once again, and Eddie picked the glass up, setting it back into its rightful position in the cupboard. It was clean. Everything as it should be, so he shut the door and moved onto the next.
This one had a lot of miscellaneous items in it. Utensils, pots, pans, cups - and a stack of letters. Eddie took them out, and placed them onto the worktop. He wouldn't read them, but he would sift through them quickly to make sure there was nothing in between any of the pieces of paper.
Bills, receipts, some birthday cards. Nothing unusual - or important. Eddie was about to put them back into a neat pile when something caught his eye.
On a smaller, folded up piece of paper, his name had been scrawled in messy handwriting.
Buck's handwriting.
He'd never seen it before.
Eddie's heart raced. He prepared himself for the worst case scenario. What if it was a suicide letter? What if -
His fingers paused. He shouldn't read it. It was none of his business.
But if it was a suicide letter, then -
"Hen." he heard himself calling.
She was by his side in a second. He held up the letter, showing her the front of it.
"Is that -"
"I don't know," he finished. "I haven't - I can't -"
She gently took it from his hands. "I can."
Eddie didn't move as she unfolded the letter. He wasn't entirely sure that he was breathing, either. Just holding his breath as Hen stated to read the letter in front of him.
Approximately ten seconds had passed before Hen hastily folded the letter again, shoving it back into Eddie's hands, her eyes slightly wide. "You - er - you should be reading this. Not me."
Eddie looked at her curiously. "Hen -"
She shook her head. "No, I'm serious. That is not for my eyes, Diaz. I'll - I'll go and search the living room. You - you should read it. I heavily urge you to read it," she added, a little softer this time.
Well, fuck it. Now Eddie was curious. He was ninety nine percent sure that it wasn't a suicide letter - Hen wouldn't make him read it by himself if it was. Especially not after what Eddie had just poured out to her.
But Hen was gone now. She'd vacated the kitchen, and he was in there by himself, the piece of paper still in his hands, which he now noticed were shaking slightly.
His gaze lingered longer than usual on his name written on the front of the paper, and his fingers found their way to it, almost as if touching the writing would equate to touching Buck himself.
Eddie carefully unfolded the letter, curious as to why Hen had urged him to read it.
The writing was much neater on the inside. Almost as if Buck had practiced and practiced, and this was the final draft. Eddie wasn't sure he'd ever seen Buck's handwriting so neat before. usually it was disastrous.
Eddie started to read.
Eddie,
I know you'll never read this which is why I think I feel so comfortable writing it. My therapist encouraged me to write letters to/about the people I love, to write down every little thing that brings me joy. Yours was the first. Please don't tell Maddie that.
I think I'm writing yours first because the type of love I have for you is unlike any other. I love everyone in my life - Maddie, Jee-Yun, Nash, Chris, Hen, Chim, Athena. I love them all. But I love in you in a way that feels steadier than all of that.
I'm not entirely sure when or where it started. It makes me mad, sometimes. I wish I could pinpoint the exact moment where I realised I didn't just love you like a best friend, but instead something more. It felt...wrong at first. Not because you're a guy. We both know that doesn't mean anything. But because...you're Eddie. And I'm Buck.
But I've come to terms with the fact that what I feel will probably never disappear. It's become a part of me. I'm not me without these feelings. And I grappled with that for a while. Watched as you dated. Flirted. Encouraged you to, because all I really cared about was your happiness. And Chris'. You both mean the world to me, and you accepted me into your family without so much as a second thought. You gave me the strength to keep on pushing even when everything else went dark. So, I owe you for that.
Anyway. I think I'll love you for the rest of my life. I'll never find someone who makes me feel the way you do - even if it's unintentional. So I want to thank you for that, I guess.
For being there. For helping me get through.
And if this is all it ever is - if I just get to stand by you, be part of your life, be there for you and Chris, then that's enough for me. It really is.
You don't have to choose me.
I already chose you a long time ago.
Buck
Eddie didn't move. He couldn't.
Couldn't do anything except for look at the letter - the words - the meaning.
It didn't make sense - it didn't - he didn't -
"Eddie?"
A quiet voice broke the silence, and Eddie looked up, though his vision was blurry.
When had he started crying?
"Eddie," the voice repeated. Hen.
"He -"
"I know," Hen answered, coming to his side, wrapping her arms around him.
Eddie didn't let go of the letter as he hugged her back.
"How much did you read?" he asked, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. Protective over the letter, over Buck.
"Not all, but - enough," she answered. A satisfactory response.
He nodded, still allowing her to hold him. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand up by himself, otherwise. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Hen shook her head, as she pulled away slightly. "I can't answer that for you."
Eddie let out a shaky breath, eyes dropping back down to the page. The paper was crumpled slightly now, edges bent from where his grip had tightened without him realising. Buck's handwriting stared back at him.
"I wasn't supposed to see this," Eddie said quietly.
Hen didn't argue that. "No," she agreed. "Neither was I. But we - you did."
Eddie swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from the paper. "This...doesn't feel fair," he admitted. "He didn't - he didn't choose this. I took that from him."
Hen tilted her head slightly. "You didn't go looking for it."
Eddie raised his eyebrow, and shot her a wry look.
She scoffed. "You know what I mean, Diaz," she spoke dryly.
Their conversation halted upon hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen. Eddie hastily tucked the letter into his back pocket, trying to act as normal as he could, because Chimney and Maddie were both making their way into the kitchen.
"Bedroom's all clear. We're gonna move him into it, get him comfy for the night. We need to decide who's going to -"
"- I will," Eddie interjected, looking around, ready to fight anyone who disputed his decision.
"Fine by me," Hen agreed softly, shooting him a knowing look.
Chimney - though unaware, nodded his head in agreement. "Alright. I'll drop Chris off at Karen's, then."
Eddie nodded. "I'll go and say goodbye to him. Excuse me," he said, weaving through Maddie and Chimney, leaving the kitchen. It was only then that he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before being in Buck's presence once again.
Everything was different now.
Everything.
"Here. Water," Eddie spoke, handing Buck a glass, as he took two standard, over the counter painkillers. He watched him like a hawk, and tried to ignore the images running through his head of Buck tipping his head back, swallowing other pills, by himself in the darkness.
They hadn't talked about it. About any of it.
This was the first time they'd been alone together since Buck had told Chimney. Since Eddie had read the letter. Since he'd found out that his best friend had apparently been in love with him for an unaccounted amount of time.
Buck grunted a thank you before leaning back against the headboard of his bed. Eddie sat on the chair he'd moved from the living room, watching. Waiting.
Buck shifted a little, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up properly. Eddie was alert, watching him carefully, ready to step in if he needed help.
"Thank you," Buck managed to say, through shivers and trembles. "For being here."
Eddie's gaze softened. "I was always going to be here, Buck."
Buck looked over at him, and truly looked at him. Eddie tried not to flinch at the sight of him. His pale, stricken face. The black rings around his eyes from lack of sleep. The tousled hair from where he'd neglected to care for it. His eyes that beheld so much sadness Eddie wasn't sure there was anything left of the man he'd known.
"You're not mad at me?"
Eddie shook his head so quickly he rubbed his neck afterwards. "No one is mad at you, Buck. We're - we're worried. We care about you. Love you. And we're going to be here until you start to feel better again. However long it takes."
Buck nodded his head. "I never - I never took them around Chris. I need you to know that," he spoke, though it sounded as if the effort was hurting him. Eddie wanted to urge him to stop, to rest, to allow himself to heal, but he was so grateful that he got to even hear his voice, after all he'd been through.
Eddie swallowed, then nodded his head. "Thank you," he replied, though it sounded small, and childlike.
Buck grunted another reply, then -
"Could you turn off the light, please?" he asked, and in that moment Eddie knew he'd do anything Buck asked him to. Anything.
"Course," he replied, standing up, heading over to the door. He'd gotten halfway there when Buck spoke again. His words stopped him in his tracks.
"What's that in your back pocket?"
Eddie knew he could lie. Knew he could make up some other bullshit. But he also knew he shouldn't.
He took it out of his pocket, and held it out in front of him. "Hen and I were checking the kitchen, and it was in one of the cupboards. I - we thought it might be, well - a suicide letter, so she opened it -"
Buck's face turned even paler. "Hen read it?'
Eddie shook his head. "No - well, not really. Skimmed. Then gave it to me."
A pause.
"Did you read it?"
Eddie met his eyes before nodding.
Buck went very still. "Oh," was all he said. It wasn't angry. Or even surprised. Just...small.
Eddie took a step closer, the letter still held carefully in his hand, like it might break if he wasn't careful. "I didn't mean to," he said. "I thought it was something else and then I -" He exhaled, shaking his head. "I should've stopped. I didn't."
Buck looked away. Of course he did. His fingers twisted slightly in the blanket, the tremor still there, still constant, still something Eddie couldn't ignore even if he wanted to.
"Okay," Buck murmured.
Eddie frowned. "Okay?"
Buck shrugged, though the movement made him wince slightly. "It's done now, isn't it?"
That stung.
Eddie stepped closer to the bed, but he didn't sit. Not yet.
Buck shifted again, pulling the blanket tighter around himself like it might hide him, like it might make this easier."It doesn't change anything," he added quickly. Too quickly. "You don't have to say anything. Or do anything. I meant what I wrote. I'm not expecting -"
"Buck." Eddie's voice cut through it. "You don't get to decide that for me."
Buck blinked, thrown. "What?"
"You don't get to decide that it doesn't change anything," Eddie said. "Or that I don't have anything to say about it."
Buck shook his head faintly, already retreating. Eddie wanted to reach out and grab him, to stop him from pulling away, to face this head on like he was prepared to.
"Eddie -"
"Can you shuffle over a little?" Eddie asked, perching on the edge of the bed.
Buck stared at him, but complied, moving over to make room for Eddie. He swung his legs over the bed, and sat up against the headboard, next to Buck.
Though he was on top of the duvet - and Buck was under, Eddie was the one who felt warm.
"I'm going to take care of you, and after all of this is over, we're going to figure this out. You and me. Buck and Eddie."
Buck turned to him. "Eddie -"
Eddie shot him a small smile, feeling more sure of his decision by the second. "However much I like hearing you say my name, don't wear it out," he spoke softly.
"Just let me say my piece," Buck whispered, and so Eddie listened. "That letter - that letter hardly even touches the surface of how I feel. I - I don't want this if this is just you feeling bad about - this," he said, waving his hands in front of him. "Because I won't be able to live with that."
Eddie moved to touch his hands, enveloping them in his own. "Buck," he whispered. "This isn't me feeling bad for you," Eddie said steadily. "If it was, I wouldn't be here like this. I wouldn't be here, in your bed with you, asking you to make room for me."
Buck swallowed, eyes searching for his face like he was trying to find the catch.
"I mean it," Eddie continued, softer now. "I read that letter, and - yeah. It hit me. Hard. But it didn't create something that wasn't already there."
Buck's brow furrowed slightly. "What does that mean?"
Eddie huffed out a quiet breath, glancing down at their joined hands for a second before looking back up. "It means I've been choosing you for a long time," he admitted. "I just didn't have a name for it."
Buck's eyes burned, but he didn't look away.
"So here's the deal. This is me choosing you. On purpose this time. And I'm going to keep choosing you. Not because I feel sorry for you. Not because I pity you. But because you're Buck. And I'm Eddie."
Buck's composure cracked, just slightly - his grip tightening in Eddie's hands, his shoulders dropping like he'd been holding something up for far too long.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "But we're gonna take it slow," he added. "You're not one hundred percent right now. You're coming off stuff that has been messing with your head, your body - I'm not rushing it when you're like this. So for tonight, I'm going to stay right here. And we're going to taker it one night at a time."
"Even if I puke everywhere?' he asked dryly.
"Romantic," Eddie teased. But then - "yes. Even if you puke everywhere."
Buck seemed to relax at that, and turned ever so slightly towards Eddie as he nestled down. "Okay."
"Okay," Eddie repeated, using one of his hands to wrap around Buck, making sure he was comfy.
"You'll still be here when I wake up?" Buck asked, his voice slightly slurred now - presumably from the sleep deprivation mixed with his comfy position that was probably propelling his towards sleep.
"Yes. And every day after that."
It didn't take Buck long to fall into a deep sleep after that.
And for the first time in nearly a year, Buck didn't wake up in a screaming fit.
Maddie woke first. Her back was killing her - she wished she'd encouraged Buck to buy couches that felt as nice as they looked. Chimney was asleep next to her, and Hen was on the recliner across the room, both of them still fast asleep.
Eddie was still in with Buck - Maddie would make a quick drink, and then go and swap with him so he could get some proper rest, like the rest of them.
She tried to ease out of the couch carefully, so not to wake Chimney, but soon realised her effort was in vain.
"Morning," her husband greeted her, his morning croak evident. "How'd you sleep?"
She shook her head. "Terribly. A mix of the bad sleeping conditions and also worrying about Buck," she answered honestly. She tried to keep it to a whisper so she didn't wake Hen, but a quick peek over told her that she, too, had now awoken.
"Morning, lovebirds," she said from her position in the recliner. "What time is it?'
Chim checked his phone. "Seven. We better go and swap with Eddie."
No one disagreed, so after making a quick cup of coffee each, they all headed towards Buck's bedroom, gently knocking on the door.
No reply.
"Do we still go in?" Chimney asked, pressing his ear against the door.
"Maybe they both fell asleep?"
Maddie ignored the pair of them and pushed open the door. Whatever she thought she'd see on the other side - well, this was not that.
Buck and Eddie were both fast asleep in Buck's bed, and her younger brother was curled up towards Eddie, one hand intertwined with the other's.
"What the -"
Maddie and Hen said nothing as they surveyed the scene in front of them.
"What do we do?" Chimney asked, looking between his wife and best friend.
Hen smiled. Then -
"Nothing. We do nothing. They're exactly where they need each other to be."