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The fourth of July. The great American holiday of independence. A day where people come together with their families and celebrate, filled with pride, and joy. For most people it was a good day. Except for Eddie, for Eddie it has always been a day filled with possible triggers, and panic. The loud explosion and the smoke in the streets from the fireworks send Eddie right back to Afghanistan, into the war he tried so hard to forget.
Eddie always took the day off, so he could stay home and try everything to feel safe. The only problem left had been Christopher. Eddie didn't want Chris to see him having one of his episodes, or flashbacks again. All the years before, Eddie had pulled himself together and pushed through it until Chris fell asleep. Only then Eddie could let his guard down. This year was different though, Chris was already 15, and had been invited to a friend's party. Christopher would be out of the house, leaving Eddie alone. He didn't mind it though, in fact, Eddie was glad that Chris would be gone. The thought of scaring Chris with his attacks was settled deep in his bones. So, if Chris was away Eddie had one thing less to worry about.
Eddie had woken up with this threatening feeling, like he was in danger. His nervous system was sharp, and on edge, ready to flee, or fight, if a situation required it. Eddie tried to shake it off, and ignore the feeling. He tried to push it deep down, but it stayed stubborn; seeking deeper in his bones. By now he knew it was just his paranoia cursing him out. That it stressed him so much it became an instinctive response of his body. His mind told its body, because it registered Eddie's stress and fear of this day. Eddie knew that, yet he still couldn't help but to look around like some hypervigilant observer. Like a spotter in the military he scanned every corner of their house twice. He just had to make sure everything was safe for Chris and him. If it was, maybe that could fix this unsettling feeling in Eddie's chest.
They say bad habits are hard to break, but breaking the habits drilled into a soldier's head are way harder to break. Eddie acted on them so subconsciously he didn't even notice he did, unless someone pointed it out. Most of the time it was Buck who noticed that Eddie was standing too tightly, his back against a wall so he could see the whole room. Buck, who noticed Eddie's glances in search of danger when he was out with him and Chris, classical threat assessment. It was Buck who noticed Eddie's trembling hands when there were gunshots fired on scene. And it was also Buck who noticed Eddie's sweat covered face when he woke up in his bunk bed after that call.
Buck and Eddie had been together for a while now, almost a whole year. If you asked Buck, he'd reply with the exact days and months, because he had been counting. It had been 10 months and 13 days since they got together on August 22nd. Eddie never actually told Buck about his PTSD, but Buck knew, because he noticed. Buck always notices. He also noticed how it got worse for Eddie after he had been shot by that sniper. Buck had taken note of how often Eddie woke up, breathing hard, and fast, after that and compared it to before. Eddie's nightmares, and flashbacks had grown more consistent after that. And Eddie hated it. He hated how weak it made him feel, how small it made him look.
“Dad, hurry up, you will make me late!” Chris yelled for his father, growing impatient.
Eddie was in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of his bathtub. He had his hand clutched to his chest, counting his breaths. The fireworks hadn't even started yet, and he was slowly losing his cool already. He yelled back at Chris that he would need a minute more in the softest voice he could form right now. Eddie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he stood up, trying to keep his weight balanced, and supported by his weak knees. He splashed ice cold water on his face, hoping to calm down.
He drove Chirs over to his friend's house, trying to play over his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter every time a firework’s boom echoed through the air. Eddie wanted to let a comment slide about how stupid it was to fire up the rockets before it was even dark, but held his tongue for Chirstopher's sake. Chris beamed with excitement as he left the car, promising his dad to call him if something came up.
The car engine was still running even after Eddie came to a stop back in his driveway. He sat behind the wheel, foot hovering over the brake of his car. He contemplated if he was doing the right thing, or if he was selfish in the wish of keeping Chris away. No, Eddie was doing the right thing, he was protecting Chris with that decision. He loved Chris. He'd never do anything to hurt him, not on purpose at least.
Eddie dragged himself in, locking the door. He looked around the apartment, his eyes stopping in their tracks every time they landed on a window. Eddie wasn't safe here. Too much exposure to possible threats. Eddie wasn't safe in this home, in his home, but he wouldn't be safe anywhere else either. He was doomed. He had nowhere to go but into his own head, the place he wanted to be the least. Besides back in that uniform he wore the day the chopper went down.
Eddie's heart twisted just like it did when he found out that everyone he tore out of that helicopter, everyone he saved, had died. All the strength Eddie had to gather up, and all the pain he had to ignore were in vain. He did everything to save them, just for them to die later on. It didn't matter what he tried to tell himself, he couldn't get out of the vessel of guilt, and shame he kept himself in.
Eddie had been praised in the highest tones there were to offer. He had been called a hero, he had gotten a silver star for his bravory. Bravory. Eddie didn't like that word. It was to be equated with stupidity, because wasn't everything he had been called brave for absolutely stupid? Wasn't it stupid of him to throw himself in cross fire? Wasn't it stupid of him to leave his family alone to fight in a foreign country, without the promise of ever coming back to them alive? Wasn't it stupid to believe they would live? And wasn't it stupid to become a firefighter and risk your life every day on the job? Bravory was by far the prettiest word for stupidity. So maybe that is the reason people clung onto that. So that they would feel better for doing something reckless and stupid.
He had trashed his place after he realised it the first time. After that he had promised himself to never let Chris see him like that again. He had tried to keep it all in, wanted to keep the lid on that thing. Eddie bottled his emotion up until he physically couldn't take it anymore. That's when the breakdowns happen, the panic attacks. Repression, that's what the doctor told him it was called, when he held everything down. He did that with what happened in his army time, he did it with his sexuality, with every girlfriend he had, and lastly with Buck.
Eddie's last was when he thought he had lost Buck. They were out on a call and Buck was rushing into fire faster than he should have, he went in without thinking it through, classical Buck. Eddie had yelled after him to stop, but Buck didn't. Eddie rushed in after, brave, or stupid, and tried to pull Buck back, classical Eddie. He was inches away from reaching him when it happened, the ceiling went down on Buck, tearing him to the ground with it, and burying him beneath ashy debris. Eddie saw himself frozen in his memory, just staring at the pile of rubble that had Buck trapped underneath.
“Firefighter down! Buck is down!” Eddie heard his voice echo through his own head, shaking him up like a tornado racing through Eddie's mind.
He had wasted time, he hadn't gotten to Buck immediately, after Buck started running away. And even then Eddie had frozen up, and done nothing. The shock washed him out, but the adrenaline kept him going. Eddie had dropped to the pile of debris and tried to dig the big stones off of Buck's body on his own. It was only with the help of his team that Eddie could lift the last pieces away. He had rode with Buck to the hospital, had sat with him after surgery. He never once left Buck's side, no matter how ugly it got.
Eddie kissed Buck immediately after he had woken up, wasting no more time to tell him how in love he was with Buck. The crippling, and realistic fear of losing Buck overturned his fear of accepting who he truly is. And in the end it worked out between them, they were happier than ever when they were together. And right now, it took Eddie everything not to call Buck. Buck was on a shift. He shouldn't be disturbed, still the selfish burden in his heart never quieted down. Not even after hours had passed.
A knock startled Eddie. He wasn't awaiting any company. Chris was with his friends, and all of Eddie's friends were on a shift, probably witnessing what crazy messes people have gotten themselves into. Eddie stood to his feet, and slowly walked to the door, holding a protective stance. The knock appeared again, but this time a voice followed, dulled by the door.
“Eddie? It's me.” The voice called through the door softly.
“Buck?” Eddie said as he pulled the door open. Buck was standing in front of him, with this gentle smile he carried when he was with Eddie, and a backpack effortlessly slumped over one side of his shoulder. “I thought you were on shift.”
“I traded with Ravi. I figured you might enjoy me to keep you company?” Buck still stood outside, waiting to be let in. He watched the slightest bit of hesitation flash over Eddie's face, before it returned to normal. “Can I come in?”
Eddie swiftly stepped aside, leaving enough room for Buck to enter. When Buck did, he scanned the area behind Buck before quickly closing the door behind them, hoping Buck didn't notice that. Buck leaned over to Eddie, giving him a slow kiss on the lips, which Eddie returned. Eddie's head followed Buck's in a begging attempt not to break the kiss just yet, but Buck pulled away anyway.
“I brought some things.” Buck began to ramble, while Eddie stayed quiet, following Buck into the living room. “I wasn't sure what would help so I just took everything. I have noise cancelling headphones, games, baked goods, my hoodie, and-”
Buck stopped in his tracks. He looked around the big living room, which was normally flooded with lots of natural light. It was dark today. Eddie had let down all of the shades, blocking the world around him. The room almost completely consisted of shadows, only some warm coloured lamps were on, painting the room in soft orange tones. It felt warm, cozy, but Buck knew it wasn't to Eddie. When he looked further, he noticed the kitchen shades were drawn too. So were the ones in Eddie's bedroom. Eddie had shut himself off from everything happening outside, he had tried to lock himself away from his triggers.
Buck turned back to Eddie, whose face was absolutely devastating. His mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something to defend himself but couldn't find the right words. His eyes were wider than usual, and his face looked so empty without his grinning, halfway smile. Eddie stood there like he had grown roots into the ground. He looked at Buck, who dropped his bag on the couch. Eddie dropped his gaze with it, leaving it lingering on the dark ground. He couldn't look at Buck. The few seconds in which he watched Buck's face drop as a reaction to his own was enough to break his heart.
Eddie felt two arms wrapping around him, and a torso pressing against his. Buck had slung his hands around Eddie's waist and back, pulling him close. Eddie could smell Buck's orange based perfume, could feel his breath hit the curve of his neck, could feel Buck's chin resting on his right shoulder. Eddie put his arms around Buck too. He wanted to pull them even closer together, which physically wasn't possible. He buried his face in Buck's shoulder, grateful for the support Buck was offering him. Buck kissed the side of his face, the hand on his back moved up and down in slow, gentle motions.
“Eddie.” Buck didn’t pull away completely, but enough to cup Eddie's face with his hands, keeping it steady and looking at his own. Buck moved his thumb over Eddie's cheek in slow circles. Eddie stared down Buck’s collar, not quite having the courage to look into Buck’s eyes. Even if he tried, he wasn’t sure he could hold it for more than a few seconds.
“I knew you weren't good.” Buck asked, meaning the way Eddie had barricaded himself in his house. “But like this? Eddie, why have you never told me?”
Buck would have been there for Eddie all these years before, he would have showed up, even if they were ‘just friends’ back then. Buck would have shown up, because that’s what you do when you love somebody.
Eddie shook his head. He didn't talk about his feelings much, making it uncomfortable and estranged to talk to Buck about them. He trusted Buck, with everything, he just didn't want to be seen as weak. He didn't want the PTSD to be the axis his existence rotated around. He didn't want to be defined by the things that haunt him, leaving no room for mercy.
Buck understood Eddie’s silence. Eddie wasn't being stubborn or trying to push him away, Eddie wanted to, but he couldn't. As much as he tried, his voice died in his throat. Eddie’s lower lip trembled slightly. His eyes glazed over, but he fought hard to keep his tears in.
“It’s okay.” Buck promised, and very gently grabbed Eddie’s chin to lead his face to his own for a soft, caring kiss. Eddie melted into it, kissing Buck back carefully, gently. They loved these kinds of kisses so much, more than any other.
“I'm sorry.” Eddie whispered against Buck’s lips so silently Buck almost didn’t hear it, his eyes still closed from their kiss.
Buck’s heart ached when he heard just how broken Eddie’s voice sounded. His voice quivered with such a raw sadness that it could’ve easily killed Buck right there. There was something else too. Something that sounded like fear, raw, vulnerable, and unfiltered fear, a thing he would normally play over, Eddie had revealed to him right now.
“Don't be an idiot.” Buck replied, placing another comforting kiss on Eddie’s temple.
‘Yeah, because that’s your job.’ Eddie wanted to reply, but he physically couldn’t bring himself to speak up. He was too afraid of his voice breaking and tearing apart the mask, that slowly came unraveled. Eddie finally blinked away the last attempt of a tear trying to flee out of his eyes. He let his hands glide down to Buck’s hips, grabbing onto it so carefully it made Buck feel like a porcelain doll.
Buck ruffled his hand through Eddie’s dark brown hair, messing up the nicely gelt hair. Normally Eddie would pretend to hate what Buck just did, this time he smiled though. Too touched by Buck’s care to act like he didn’t love when Buck was this gentle with him. It made him feel appreciated and loved. Something no one before Buck could truly achieve.
“How about I put on some music, and we cook something together?” Buck asked, and Eddie noticed how Buck kept his voice as quiet and tender as he could for him.
Buck was trying his hardest to make Eddie feel as safe and supported as he could. He kept his movements slow and predictable, kept himself from rambling too quickly, and kept his voice steady and honest. He was ready to give Eddie all the reassurance he could ever need. Buck would do everything for Eddie, his Eddie.
Eddie followed Buck to the kitchen, his mind trying to ignore how his emotions battled themselves inside of him, making him nauseous and overwhelmed. A part of Eddie told him that he was okay, that Buck was here and he is going to be okay. The other part of him wanted to crawl out of his skin, it wanted to pack up and leave his body behind, letting it drop dead to the floor.
“I appreciate you doing this for me.” Eddie noted, as he followed Buck’s order to boil some water for the pasta they were going to make. “I really do.”
“Of course.” Buck replied in a heartbeat, looking up from the chopped vegetables on the cutting board in front of him. Buck kept his smile plastered to his face, though he wanted to cry seeing Eddie like this. He had seen Eddie sad before, had seen him cry before too, but this? This was the worst he had seen Eddie be, all up in his own head, fighting demons Buck couldn’t see.
“I love you.” A reminder from Buck to Eddie. A reminder desperately needed right now.
Showing up, having each other's backs; That’s what you do when you love somebody. That’s what Buck and Eddie have always done for each other. If it was Eddie dropping off Chris after the tsunami, or if it’s Buck rushing to Eddie when Chris called about Eddie’s breakdown. They have always had their backs, without judgement, without question.
“I love you, too.”
I love you. Three words, two hearts, one promise. A promise that you can cling onto in hard times. A promise you can come back to and rely on. A promise that was made by human emotions, humans' hearts and not their minds. Something real. Something Eddie clung onto right now.
Buck had put on some music, hoping it would help to pull Eddie out of the labyrinth his brain turned into. Eddie hummed quietly to the one or other song, making Buck grin, watching him be better. Buck didn’t mention it though, there was no need to force a conversation right now, when the silence they were in felt way more trusted and intimate than any talk could at that moment.
They ate together, keeping some small talk going. Simple things, easy things. Eddie smiled honestly for the first time tonight, thinking about how they haven’t done this in a while. Cooking, talking, eating, and cleaning their mess up after. It felt good. It made Eddie’s heart feel lighter, and beat slower.
“So what’s all this?” Eddie pointed at the backpack Buck brought, that had been abandoned on the couch.
“I did some research, and there were so many different options, and I wasn’t sure which one would help, so I brought them all.” Buck scratched the back of his head, watching Eddie dig through the things.
‘He did that all for me?’ Eddie was touched, wanting to cry right there. Buck thought about how to help Eddie out, even when Eddie never asked for help. Buck knew he wasn’t doing well, and made an effort to, not fix, but help him.
Eddie pulled out his favourite hoodie of Buck’s. It was a deep blue hoodie with the station number and the seal of the Los Angeles Fire Department embroidered on the right side of the front. Right beneath it, they embroidered Buckly in a cursive spelling. Eddie loved it because he could carry Buck with him everywhere he went. And everyone was able to see who he belonged to. Eddie smelled it. It smelled so intensely like Buck, making him wonder if Buck had sprayed it with his perfume before bringing it here. Either way, Eddie pulled it over his tanktop, sinking into the soft fabric. Buck smiled, resisting the urge to call Eddie cute, and snap a pic of him.
They settled on the couch. Buck had his feet up, and crossed one over the other, one arm laying on the head rest of Eddie’s couch, the other fell loose to his side. Eddie laid down right next to him. He rested his head on Buck’s shoulder, and threw one of his arms over Buck’s stomach, holding him. Buck leaned his head on top of Eddie’s, taking turns from watching the TV, and admiring Eddie’s perfect face. Eddie pretended not to notice how Buck's eyes flickered over him with no shame whatsoever. If Buck hadn’t seen the movie before he would have never catched what it’s about.
Everything was going well. Eddie felt Buck’s chest move up and down as he breathed, could hear his heartbeat as he moved his head over to Buck’s chest. Buck was massaging through Eddie’s hair softly. Eddie almost drifted off, his eyelids feeling heavier than ever, when he got reminded why he hated this day.
A loud boom blared outside, straddling Eddie. His head snapped up, and his eyes went wide. His breath hitched frantically as he scooted away from Buck, head turned so Buck wouldn’t look him in the face. Buck himself flinched a little when Eddie tore away from him so brutally. He sat up, trying not to scare Eddie away more. His body followed the curve Eddie’s demonstrated just now.
“Eddie?” He flinched in response to Buck’s voice calling his name. He was still here, he had not fallen into it yet. Maybe there was still time for Buck to pull Eddie off the edge. “You’re safe here.”
“I’m going to touch you, is that good with you?” Buck awaited a reaction, waiting for Eddie’s consent. He didn’t want to terrify him any more than he already was. Eddie nodded, though his back still turned to Buck.
Buck slowly placed his flattened palm on Eddie’s shoulder, the shoulder he’d been shot in. He moved his hand around Eddie’s shoulder to his collarbone, hugging him from behind. Eddie tried to smell Buck, he tried to feel him, tried to hear him; Eddie tried everything to ground himself on Buck.
Another firework echoed through the night, and Eddie flinched hard against Buck’s ribcage. His mouth felt dry, and it was hard to swallow. Eddie coughed harshly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. Eddie’s breath rigged even more, trying to pull in as much oxygen as it needed to stop the pressuring feeling of suffocation. His breaths were too fast, too flat, too strained. Eddie’s vision blurred, the edges of the room sharpened and made it feel smaller than it was. He couldn’t close his eyes either, the battlefield had burned itself onto Eddie’s eyelids, resurfacing every time he closed them. Buck held him close, but not in a threatening way, he let Eddie know he had a choice to pull away if it got too much.
“You’re okay, darling.” Eddie could barely hear Buck over his own heartbeat ringing through his ear. Buck sounded so faded, so far away when he was literally right behind Eddie, holding his back, like always.
“You’re not in danger, you’re at home.” It sounded like a lie, cause all that Eddie could hear were the gunshots he fired and the ones that came in return.
“I’m here.” Now that sounded like a promise, a sweet, sweet promise. It felt like the first rays of sun on your skin, that fought out of the dark storm clouds that lingered in the sky for days on end. “I’m here.”
“Do you hear me?” Eddie could hear Buck, barely but he could. He tried to latch onto Buck’s voice, wanting to grab on it firmly, like it was the last lifeline he could see.
“I’m here.”
So why did Buck’s touch fade from Eddie’s body? Eddie wanted to scream, but he was paralyzed in his fear. The loss of the safety in Buck’s touch threw Eddie off, making him stumble over his own mind even more. Buck wouldn’t leave him, would he? He would not let Eddie deal with this on his own would he?
The seconds Buck took to stand up, and readjust himself right in front of Eddie felt like hours to him. Hours in which Eddie felt so lost, and left alone, almost as lost and alone as he cowered beneath that broken well, or outside that goddamn helicopter that he could suddenly hear flying over his head.
Somewhere between Eddie’s screaming thoughts, the flashbacks that came with pained voices, bullets ripping through the air, and bodies falling at the impact of them, he caught Buck’s voice again.
“Breathe.” Eddie did. But he still felt like choking, nothing stayed in long enough for Eddie to give him a sense of calmness.
“Breath, Eddie.” Buck asked? No, commanded? Also no, pleaded. That’s what it was. Buck begged Eddie to breathe.
Eddie probably looked
Pathetic.
And he knew that.
Embarrassing.
He knew that, too.
Weak.
His brain really did hate him, raveling his worst fear steadier into his skin, letting it sicker through his muscles until it arrived in his bones, shaking up Eddie whole body. Why couldn’t it be silent for once? Why did it replay his father’s voice telling him to suck it up over, and over again?
“Breathe in.”
Eddie’s trembling, sweat covered hand found Buck’s on its own. Eddie needed the touch of his lover. His body knew that, even when Eddie’s mind was clouded with poison, Buck was the antidote.
“Breathe in.”
Eddie had missed the first out part. In the heat of the moment he had lost Buck, but Buck always fought his way back to Eddie. That man had survived a tsunami just to come back to him and Chris. Had survived a lightning strike, and came back after 3 minutes and 17 seconds of absolute death.
Eddie’s breath was short, and flat. But at least he got one in. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, his body too busy with everything else than to concentrate on its breathing.
“Breathe out.” Buck said, demonstrating it to Eddie, inhaling slowly and deeply.
A shaky exhale, too quickly, but he was getting there. Slowly, though that it didn't matter, they weren’t in a rush, they had all the time in the world.
Buck repeated himself over and over and over again. No matter how many beats Eddie missed, Buck started over and began the counted breaths as often as Eddie needed them.
“You did good.” Buck placed multiple, gentle kisses all over Eddie’s face. Eddie scuffed in response. He wasn’t doing well. He was edged all the time, a ticking time bomb if you’d like.
If the trauma, or the job won’t kill Eddie, Buck’s gentleness will definitely take him to the grave. It took Eddie so long to get used to all this softness around him. All the people in the 118, Chris, and Buck have shown him what it meant to leave anger behind and opt for the brighter, more colourful way of life. There are probably still people out there that remember Eddie as the violent outburst, always angry, and fighting Eddie, but he wasn’t that version of himself anymore. The guilt and the people around him had changed him, softened his hard shell, cracking it open. And Eddie had let them in.
“How are you feeling?” A question that tore Eddie apart, dissembling all of his parts, and rearranging his limbs completely. Every time someone asked Eddie how he was doing, he would give the same, robotic, trained response, like the automatic voice that told you to speak after the beep. He would say he’s fine, even if his whole world around him was breaking down in shards, fire burning everything he had to the ground, until there were only ashes and dust left.
“I'm fine.” Eddie croaked. His vocal chords vibrated a little too much to support this lie slipping over his lips too quickly. He didn’t want to lie to Buck, but he couldn’t stop doing it either.
“No you're not.” Buck followed Eddie's eyes with his own, stopping where they had come to stop, too; his hands. Eddie fumbled with them, fingers picking against each other. Buck put his hands over his, keeping them a little more steadied.
“I am.” Eddie protested, not looking up at Buck. Buck already saw through him, there was no point in lying was there?
“You don't need to act all strong for me.” Buck promised, the love and honesty he carried radiating off of his voice. He lowered his head, so he could look up in Eddie’s hidden face, examining every inch of his beautiful face.
That fucker. Why did he have to look at Eddie the way he does? These big, sorrow filled, ocean blue eyes staring deeply, like Eddie’s eyes were the windows to his soul. Eddie flicked his gaze away from Buck. He couldn't stand this look.
“Eddie, you don't have to pretend with me. If you're not okay you can tell me.” He knew he could. He trusted Buck, and had trusted him for what felt like forever.
Eddie shook his head, small tiny shakes, his eyes flashing up to the ceiling, blinking the salty water away. He kept his head high, still gently throwing it side to side. He knew he would have to have that talk with Buck someday, though he really didn’t want it to be today.
“I don't know what's wrong with me. There’s so much broken inside of me, and the truth is I can’t fix it, I don’t think anything ever will.” Buck furrowed his brows at Eddie’s statement, his eyes speaking everything his mouth couldn’t. His light blue eyes promised Eddie that there wasn’t anything wrong with him. There wasn’t something broken inside of him, there was nothing in need of being fixed. There was no cure to what Eddie was feeling, no manual explaining all the steps he had to take to fight this.
“You have been hurt, Eddie.” Buck moved his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “You have fought a war. You earned a silver star.”
“Don’t make it sound so honourable, I have hurt people, I have killed innocent people, Buck. People like me and you.” Eddie separated their hands, pointing his finger from his own body to Buck’s, sympathising the words as he spoke, “They maybe even had a family they promised to come home to. They had loved ones, awaiting them, praying for their safety. These people had hopes, and dreams. And I have robbed them of it.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t choose the war.”
A lie. That wasn't the truth. For some stupid, and petty reason Eddie had chosen the war as an escape. He had been a bad person, he still was, he carried dozens of body weights on his back; from the people he had taken from their lives. Had blood on his hands.
“Yeah well neither did they.” Eddie snapped, his voice sharper than Buck had ever heard it come out, especially directed at him. It cut right through Buck’s neck, slicing his next sentence in a million pieces.
“I know.” Buck mused, planning his next words very carefully, “Regardless of that, you’re way too hard on yourself for that.”
Eddie let out a breath that rather sounded like a laugh, as his hand glided over the right side of his face.
“Look, Buck, I have chosen to join the army, these people were conscripted into this- this fucking mess. They didn’t have a choice, I had.” Eddie argued, realising that maybe somewhere deep down the anger was still tied to his bones, weighing him down, leaving him to drown in the endless sea of selfdoubt, and hatred. “I have been the person behind the gun, and I have been the guy in front of them, none of those options were the better one.”
Buck nodded, listening to everything Eddie told him. He was too scared to say something, and interrupted this moment of Eddie opening up to him about something he had kept to himself for so long.
“Sometimes I feel like I have never left.” A single tear left Eddie’s eye, crawling down his cheek, betraying him.
‘That I’m never gonna feel normal again.’
So that’s what he meant. That’s what Eddie referred to when Buck asked him what he was afraid of. Eddie was afraid of never leaving the war behind, that there will always be a part of him chained to that horrible, horrible part of his past.
“But you did. And you’re alive.”
“Am I?” Eddie stood to his feet, vibrating with anger. This went deeper than he’d planned, there was no turning back anymore, he had opened this up with no chance of screwing it back shut.
“What are you saying?” Buck had a dark intuition in which direction this was going to turn.
“I’m saying I should be the one that’s dead, not them.” Eddie paced through the living room, making Buck dizzy from watching.
Yeah. That was what Buck feared.
“I think about them all the time. And when I close my eyes I see it all. The blood. The pain. The crying and them begging to god in their last, painful seconds. I see it all. So tell me Buck, is that a life?”
A firework went off, rushing to the air.
Buck opened his mouth, trying to say something. But a loud, almost deafening boom was faster than him. It was so loud it made Buck flinch next to Eddie, too.
“That wasn’t a firework.” Eddie stated, staring at the closest window. He couldn’t see through it, the shades were still down. Eddie was familiar with that noise, too familiar. He tried hard to differentiate if this was real, or his mind playing tricks.
“No, it wasn’t.” Buck stated, looking at Eddie, waiting to read his reaction, while he tried to mask his own.
Another noise made its presence noticeable. A human noise, someone screaming for help, scared, probably alone. Eddie locked eyes with Buck, both of them thinking the same.
They had to help.
The adrenaline took over Eddie’s body, blocking every small, lingering ounce of panic, as he rushed after Buck. Buck had hurried out immediately, leaving the door open for Eddie to follow him outside.
It was dark, and there was smoke. A lot of it. Eddie blinked, trying to clear his head, but it wouldn’t resolve. He searched for the person screaming for help, searched for Buck who had dissolved in a direction Eddie couldn’t name. He turned around, his eyes flicking over the streets.
His eyes quickly found the source of the smoke. A fire. A fire had broken out just two houses next to Eddie’s opposite neighbours. The raging flames reflected in Eddie’s eyes, the aggressive red, the warm oranges, and the blinding yellows painted a bright light into the night. Fire was something Eddie could deal with, so naturally his body moved to the danger with fast and big steps. He almost arrived there, when another gruesome noise cut through the crackling flames, freezing his body.
That was a gunshot, wasn’t it?
“Eddie!” He heard Buck yell his name, before his body got ducked behind a car, hiding. Buck pressed them down, tearing their bodies to the ground, laying flat on the concrete.
A sizzle, somewhere further away.
The person was still crying out for help. Weakly, but still yelling for someone to find them, to save them. They are probably scared to death, probably alone, probably dying.
Then the crack.
Buck was laying beside him, arm over Eddie’s back, keeping him down, keeping him close; keeping him safe. Buck has always been a protector, someone who would do anything to protect and shield the people he loved the most. Even if that involved climbing up a crane during the possible threat of a sniper, ready to take him out, or fighting his way through a tsunami for his kid.
But that was Buck for you.
And lastly the boom followed like thunder follows the lightning, expected but off guard when the dark, loud rumble stoke.
Eddie protected his head with his arms, shielding himself from whatever could hit him. Buck was saying something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. There were too many noises. Fireworks, gunshots, people screaming, the fire raging, and the smoke cursing.
Gunshots followed gunshots, and Eddie was completely lost, he couldn’t comprehend if it was a firework or not anymore. Would Buck lay with him, protect him, and cover his ears if it were only some stupid fireworks? The answer would probably be yes. But Buck wouldn’t stop trying to fight a fire, or help a person if the scene was clear. That would be Eddie’s normal thought process, if he could keep his mind clear.
But as he laid on the ground, covered in dirt, and ashy smoke, he thought about what their best escape plan was. He looked around, the ground was dusty and sandy, the temperature way hotter than it actually was, the smoke came from the chopper they just shot out of the sky, and the screaming came from the soldiers coming for each other's heads. The fire burned from the engine of the chopper. They sought protection behind a big car. Buck’s truck, but not for Eddie, to Eddie Buck’s truck were the stones he cowered behind when he stood under fire at the Valley Of Death. To Eddie they were actively taking fire.
Eddie’s mind competed in a race against his heart, one beating faster than the other, completely rolling over Eddie with all the forces they had. His heartbeat burned as were his breaths. Eddie forced himself to keep breathing, to keep thinking, trying to get on top of this pounding mayhem. His chest felt tight, making Eddie wish he could crawl out of his body, his hurting, trembling body. His vision blurred, but he kept blinking it away, forbidding himself to turn a blind eye on his enemies. Eddie had to stay on top of this, because if he didn’t, he’d kill himself, and Buck. Eddie should move, but everything in his body felt heavy, numb, like his tingling legs turned into cemented pillars. He tried so hard, gave all the strength he had into it, but his legs wouldn’t move. His legs didn’t belong to him anymore. Eddie should move, and fight to protect Buck, but he couldn’t. Everything hurt, especially his shoulder.
Wait. His shoulder. Eddie looked at it, seeing Buck’s with white thread embroidered name turn red. Blood gushed out of his wound, staining the blue hoodie darker, into some shade of brown Eddie hadn’t seen before. He got shot, Eddie had been shot again. He felt the hot blood run down his chest, and arms. He felt the muscles and skin that had been torn apart by the bullet, throbbing. The pain was clear and so so bad. Eddie’s jaw clenched. He won’t scream, he will keep quiet.
With every heartbeat a new swell of blood washed out the wound. And Eddie was breathing quickly, the speed picking up faster than he would like. The pain paralyzed him even more. He should let Buck, and the rest of his soldiers know that he had been hit, but nothing came out of his open, dry mouth. Maybe that was the better decision anyways, if he didn’t say anything Buck might not notice the gushing wound in Eddie’s shoulder.
“We have to go, they’re going to get us.” Eddie could finally move again. He fought out of Buck’s touch. The fire in the sky became threateningly closer to them. Eddie kneeled with his back to the car, looking at Buck, then keeping a look out over the street, the field. There wasn’t much time. They would come and get them, Eddie felt it. “Six minutes till the backup arrives, six minutes we don’t have.
“We have to seek safety somewhere.” Eddie pressed his flat hand on his shoulder, trying to keep the bleeding.
“Eddie, there is no one.” Buck promised, stopping Eddie in his tracks for a second. His glance fell on the way Eddie pressed his hand to his body, confused.
“Yes there is, they’re coming for us.” Eddie wanted to get up, look around for the enemy’s troopers. He had to be right. There would be a group of soldiers taking them hostage, if they won’t pack it right this second.
“And if we don't go, they'll kill us.” Eddie muttered, angrily, keeping his face close to Buck. He couldn't risk being too loud and exposing them. He grabbed to his side, his hand rummaging over his belt searching for his gun. When he didn't find it, his face dropped down, his eyes hectically trailing over the ground to find it. The ground that had been stained with his blood by now. Why hasn’t Buck noticed that Eddie was bleeding out yet?
“Eddie, listen to me.” Buck sounded insisting to get Eddie’s attention. Eddie’s other hand was still clenched to Buck’s name on his chest.
“Can't you hear that?” Eddie's flat hand gestured around them, pointing it at the flashing sky. The fireworks, or the gunshots, didn't matter what it was, because either way the sound was threatening.
“I can, but there is no one.” Eddie’s face dropped, he stared at Buck in disbelief. His brows narrowed angrily, Buck flinched at the sight of Eddie’s tensed face. The only time he had looked at Buck like that was when they met at the grocery store during the lawsuit.
“Are you one of them?” Eddie growled, scooting away from Buck. Had Buck been an undercover spy for the enemy this whole time? Did he just pretend to love Eddie so he could get the information he needed? His heart aced even more, announcing that it was still beating, even when Eddie wished it didn’t at this moment.
“One of wh- Eddie.” Buck got it. Eddie was paranoid, Buck finally understood, Eddie was in Afghanistan right now. He was reliving the most traumatic moment of his life. He knew now why Eddie’s hand was where it was, he was stopping the bleeding that wasn’t real. “No, I’m not, It’s just me, Buck, your boyfriend.”
“We’re in L.A.” Buck’s calm voice almost got drenched out by the tunnel Eddie’s head was in. He had drained everything out to listen for people sneaking up on them.
“What?” The way in which Eddie was upset was so visual on his face, it broke Buck’s heart. He had lost Eddie to the war, even though he was right here. The minutes Eddie had been trapped in it were too long, too much.
“We’re not there.” Buck watched Eddie’s eyes shrink, as he took a big breath.
The Illusion fell like sheds from Eddie’s eyes, like snakes shedding. The sandy road was asphalt, and the stone was Buck's truck. The desert was the street he lived in. The hoodie wasn’t bloodstained, Eddie wasn’t shot again, he was okay. His mind cleared, looking at Buck. The fire was real, but it came from the home Eddie knew.
“Fuck.” Eddie shakily exhaled, “But the gunshots?”
“Were real, I think they’re gone now.” Buck ran his hand over the side of Eddie's face, speaking to him.
“So that means-” Eddie started the sentence, not daring to finish it.
“That somewhere is a victim.” Buck ended it, back in his firefighter voice.
Eddie’s expression hardened, his forehead grew wrinkles from focusing.
“We have to find them.” Determination flashed behind Eddie's eyes.
“Are you sure you-” Buck’s eyes were still filled with pity and terror from watching Eddie in the trance he was in just seconds ago.
“Yes.” Eddie jumped up. How he was doing was of secondary importance. He was a firefighter first.
“We have to help.” They had wasted too much time already. If there really was someone with a bullet wound, they might have already bled out. Then there was also the fire. They didn’t know if someone was trapped there, or if someone even called 911.
Eddie ran to the house, Buck followed immediately. They were partners, even before they became real-life partners, they always did everything together. Where you go, I’ll follow. Buck reached the front door first, while Eddie walked around in the front yard to inspect the side of the house.
“LAFD, someone in there?” Buck yelled, banging his fist against the door. He repeated that a few times before he kicked the door open, alarming Eddie to his side.
They walked into the fire together, shielding their nose and mouth from the smoke with their inner elbows. It was reckless, stupid, brave of them to rush into a burning house without any gear or backup, and emergency plan. Muscle memory, the only thing they could rely on right now, besides each other. They searched the house as best as they could without additional help. They cleared the hallway, living room, kitchen, and the two downstairs bedrooms. Luckily they didn’t find anyone yet. The rooms were hot, and the smoke was suffocating, dark, and dense, making it hard to see. Eddie found Buck’s arm, grabbing it to get his attention. He signaled them to go outside again, slowly they couldn’t avoid breathing in the toxic fumes. Buck wanted to continue looking, but the stairs to the upstairs floor were alright ablaze with fire, cutting them off. There was no way they could get through that without burning to a crisp. They exited over the backdoor in the kitchen, needing oxygen. Buck wiped his sweaty forehead on his sleeve.
They gasped, and coughed, ringing for clean air. Fireworks were still going off loudly, but Eddie pushed through it, ignoring the panic welling up inside of him every time colours lit up the sky. Buck searched for Eddie’s expression, looking, trying to read what he was thinking.
“We should-” Buck was about to propose something about wanting to go back front to catch the fire rescue and brief them about what they had found out, as Eddie held up his hand, shushing Buck.
Groaning and rattling caught Eddie’s attention. His body moved on its own, finding the direction where it came from. Eddie walked off the patio, through the garden, to the side of the patio he stood at. He yelled for Buck to come over, dropping to his knees in front of Mike, the homeowner, Eddie neighbour. Buck rushed over, eyes catching Eddie and the stranger on the ground.
Mike laid in a puddle in presumably his own blood. It flew down from somewhere in his chest. His face was pale, his breathing shallow. He was barely conscious.
“It’s gonna be okay, Mike.” Eddie said, ripping open Mike’s button down shirt to look at the wound better. Eddie had to catch himself when he recognised what kind of wound Mike was suffering from. Immediately he pressed his hand down on Mike’s chest, just as he did on his own before. “We’ve got you.”
“Buck, call dispatch and tell them we have a gunshot victim, now.” Eddie ordered authoritarianly. Buck found the tone Eddie used incredibly sexy, even now he couldn’t help himself but to think about Eddie talking to him like that. Buck shook the thought off, and called for help. Maddie picked up the phone, and Buck explained everything to her, telling her to send EMTs to their location right away.
In the meanwhile Eddie talked to Mike, trying to keep him conscious. It pained him that he couldn’t do something more for him. He didn’t have anything, didn’t have gear, didn’t have blood to give Mike, didn’t have Hen to tell him what to do next. All he had was himself, a nervous wreck, fighting his own head every second he was out here, and Buck. Buck who was next to him, letting him do his medic thing.
Blink.
War.
He was bleeding out. Not Mike, but Eddie’s soldier colleagues.
Blink.
The fire grew even bigger, and Eddie wondered how that was possible. They weren’t safe here anymore, they had to relocate.
Blink.
War.
Eddie was dragging his friends out of the helicopter, cursing, and ducking away from the bullets shooting through the night.
Blink.
The war wasn’t real. Eddie wasn’t here, Eddie wasn’t in the war. That wasn’t another soldier he was dragging, it was Mike, his neighbour. Eddie dragged Mike along the side of his house, he was rushing too much, Buck called him out on being too fast, Eddie didn’t listen. He dragged the weight on his own, stumbling over his feet, and crashing into the wooden fence. He yelped, his arm dragging down across the wood, cutting him on his underarm.
Eddie cursed in Spanish as he laid Mike back down in front of his house, a safer location, the people will find him here quicker than back there. Eddie shot a quick glance over his arm, the cut wasn’t deep, and there wasn’t too much blood. So he turned his focus back to Mike,who looked worse by every passing second. His eyes flattered shut. Eddie shook him, called his name, nothing worked. Mike wouldn’t wake up again. He took his fingers to Mike’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He couldn’t find one.
“I’ve lost the pulse, starting compressions.” Eddie yelled, and started to press down on Mike’s chest in even, trained, controlled motions, just like he had done a hundred times before.
“Eddie let me do that, you’re hurt.” Buck jumped in with force in his voice.
“I’m fine, it’s not that deep.” Trails of crimson reed followed the blood drops down Eddie’s stretched arm, forming a small river of Eddie’s blood.
“Eddie-” Buck knew arguing with Eddie wasn’t any good. He was stubborn, did the things he set his mind on. A man of his words, another army habit he never broke. Buck shook his head, asking Maddie where the ambulance was.
“The ETA of that rescue unit is one minute.” Maddie called out over Buck’s phone.
“The 118 is with you any second now.” She added, sending a cold shiver down Eddie’s spine.
“The 118? They can’t see me like this.” Eddie groaned. He knew he looked like absolute hell. Not just his face, but everything about him. His eyes, his body, they will all see him like this; broken and weak.
A small argument erupted between Buck and Eddie. Eddie wanted to go before they arrived, wanted to flee though the darkness of the night. Buck wanted to take over the CPR and let Eddie get checked out by their team.
“Eddie, you're injured.” Buck stated the obvious and Eddie scoffed in annoyance, because he knew that. He fucking knew that he was injured. He felt the stinging, itching scratch, he felt the blood flow. He knew. “You need to get that checked out.”
“No, I can do that myself later.”
“Eddie.” Buck’s words were strangled, choking on emotion. Eddie was stubborn, but he could be, too.
“No.” He repeated.
“Please, they- there’s nothing to be ashamed of Eddie.”
Yes, there was. His whole state was shameful. The way he flinched, the way he hurt, the way he was visibly not doing well with this. He would have told Buck exactly that, mouth already open, if a familiar voice didn’t interrupt their little scuffle. Too late. They were already here.
“Buck? Eddie? Are you guys alright?” Bobby came running to them, Chim and Hen directly behind him. They all seemed so worried, immediately looking out for their off duty family members. Because that’s what you do when you love somebody.
While Hen and Chim listened to all the info Eddie gave them, Bobby yelled orders to the rest of the firefighter crew to put out the fire. Hen ran a line, and hooked Mike up to their equipment, while Chim gave him blood. Then Hen switched with Eddie, keeping the chest compressions going. Eddie watched the scene unfold in slow motion, stumbling backwards until he was met with Buck’s body. Chim was getting the defibrillator ready. Ravi, and some other firefighters were housing down the house, no one searched the inside, the fire had been going on too long for the possibility of survivors. Police arrived on scene now too. Chim yelled at Hen to clear off the shock, Bobby yelled at someone called Johnson to get rid of gawker that gathered around the event, filming and whispering to one another. The red and blue lights of the different emergency vehicles, and the flashes of colourful fireworks hang in the sky like a big string light.
“We have a pulse!” Hen chimed. After that everything went hand in hand, they put him on a gurney, loaded him into the back of their ambulance and drove off.
Buck held Eddie’s shoulders, watching it all too, something tucked on his heart, pinching it. He felt weird just standing there without doing anything. His team was here, but he wasn’t actively a part of it. At least Eddie was standing with him. Buck noticed small, red drops on his white sneakers, recalling Eddie’s cut. He waved the paramedics from the second arriving ambulance over.
“Let me take a look at that.” One of them demanded, grabbing Eddie’s wrist to pull his arm closer to him. Eddie ripped his arm back, hissing at the sore skin. The paramedic stared Eddie down, you could have mistaken it for seriousness, but it was clearly annoyance in his eyes.
“I’m fine, just give me a dressing, I can do it myself.” Eddie nagged. Though the tremble in his body, the blood on his clothes, and his pale face suggested otherwise.
“Sir, with all due respect-” The paramedic was already done with Eddie. But he had been the second he got here too.
“I’m a medic, too, I know how this works.” Eddie demanded, matching the annoyance with his low voice, and tired eyes.
They say people working within the medical field are the worst patients. A years old cliche that applied to Eddie, as well as any other person signed under the 118.
“Eddie.” Buck pressed, hands back on Eddie’s shoulder, gently pressing down. Eddie shot Buck a glance over his shoulder.
“Fine.” He sighed, agreeing only so Buck would be happy.
The paramedic checked him out, took his vitals, and cleaned his cut. It wasn’t deep, like Eddie said, just a bad spot that made the bleeding look bigger than it was. He put the bandage around Eddie’s arm and left.
The fire was under control now, and the 118 was wrapping their things up, giving them time to check in on their two off duty friends. Bobby pulled Eddie aside, as they were taking a few steps away from Buck to talk, they heard Ravi crack a joke about how Buck was here before Ravi, when he wasn’t even the one on the job.
“You okay?” He questioned with that familiar, fatherly tone he carried so naturally with no force beneath it.
“Fine.” The roboter in him answered, while his hand checked his cheek for tears. “Buck’s been here. He’s been helping a lot.”
“That’s good.” Bobby glanced over at Buck, who was already watching them, eyes observing every single twitch in their bodies and gestures. Reacting when Eddie flinched to another explosion in the sky.
“Thanks for not telling on me, Cap.” He held his gaze to Bobby’s, a half way grin on his face.
“I get it, it’s your fight, and yours only.” Bobby had his own fights, too, when he came to L.A. He understood that sometimes you needed to keep things to yourself, the help of others could be overwhelming to some extent. “And if giving you the day off helps, you can have it off every year. That’s a promise.”
“Thanks, Cap.” He nodded firmly, his heart feeling the smallest bit lighter. “Appreciate it.”
“Now get some rest.” Bobby smiled warmly, patting Eddie on the shoulder, passing him. “That’s an order.”
A quiet chuckle left Eddie's lips. He followed Bobby, who was walking up to Buck now, checking on him, too. Bobby wasn't Buck's father, but he might as well have been. He stepped up, accepted Buck as he was, and raised him, as good as you can raise a grown man. He grew very protective of Buck, and the rest of his firehouse. Buck accepted Bobby as a father figure, and that also made him a part of the Grant-Nash family.
“I'm glad you're okay.” Bobby declared, not being able to resist a scolding about how dangerous that was. How they could have gotten hurt, or worse, in the fire. Eddie smiled, teeth flashing out, his eyes finally brought back the light in them, because right now, everything felt normal; Bobby scolding Buck for doing something stupid, and brave, Eddie watching, knowing exactly that Bobby's words were also directed at him. It felt like any other day on shift. The only difference, him and Buck weren't climbing back in the truck, driving back to the station. They walked back to Eddie's apartment.
Buck stared at the ceiling, counting holes in it, too much adrenaline still rushing through him to go to sleep. Eddie laid next to him, hand on Buck's heart. Eddie's eyes were closed, but Buck knew he wasn't sleeping, his chest was rising too inconsistently, and he could see the lines around Eddie’s eyes that thickened every time the night echoed loudly. Buck had his arm around Eddie, their feet tangled between each other. If they could get any closer physically, they would.
“Eddie?” Buck's voice hummed through the almost empty bedroom.
“Buck.”
“We never finished talking about it.” He whispered into the dark, caressing Eddie's head.
“About what?” Eddie’s heart sank. He knew exactly what Buck was talking about.
“You said some pretty concerning things.” His voice was quiet, but came with force, straight and clear, though Eddie heard how scared Buck was about this conversation.
“Okay.” Eddie tried to push away, act tired to get out of this uncomfortable moment.
“It's not okay, Eddie.” Buck stopped, his hands pausing in Eddie's soft, brown hair.
“You're not okay.”
Eddie was okay. Normally. Today was just a bad day, nothing more nothing less. Buck shouldn't be so concerned about this. Everything Eddie experienced today was deserved, valid, and signed with his fate. He took innocent lives, destroyed families, his own too. Eddie deserved the punishment for his misneeds.
“You said you were still there sometimes.” The words lingered in the air for a while, thickening it, and pushing it down on Eddie's shoulder with the pressure of thousands of pounds.
“I am.” He held his answers as short as humanly possible, hoping Buck would drop it, and go to sleep. But of course, Buck didn't.
“Before today, too, right?”
“Yes.” Eddie's jaw clenched, realising he wouldn't get out of this. Buck was determined to make him talk about it. Whenever they were on calls with sounds that could resemble a gunshot, Eddie fought the way his mind teleported himself back to the battles. Eddie had always battled that. And he was doing a very good job at keeping his flashback to himself until now, until he was shot again.
“Why have you never said something?”
“Was I supposed to?” Eddie sat up, face to face with Buck.
“I kind of hoped you would tell your boyfriend if you were struggling.” Eddie recognised the hurt in Buck's voice that appeared every time Buck felt left out of something. “Do you not trust me? Or do you just not want to tell me? What is it, Eddie?”
“Buck.” Eddie had to stop himself, aligning the trail of thoughts, rummaging around in his head. “I didn't tell you, because I know how you'd react.”
“And how do I react?” Buck challenged, turning on the light for which Eddie wanted to curse him out so bad.
“Like this.”
“Like this?” Buck repeated, confused. He reacted quite well didn't he? He offered his support to Eddie like all the times Eddie needed it before. It never seemed like a big deal.
“So caring, so thoughtful, so you.” Eddie responded. There weren't enough words in this world to describe how Buck was. Athena had tried to put ‘being Buck’ into words one time, she resulted in the statement ‘being Buck means never giving up.’
“Is that a bad thing?” Buck fixated his gaze on Eddie, his lips curled into a confused smile, playing over the hurt of the possibility that Eddie didn't like the way Buck handled this.
“No, but…” Eddie realised that he had fucked this up, he should have worded it differently, should have been honest about how he feels, and not project it on Buck.
“But?” Buck pressed, and his body inched away from Eddie.
“It makes me feel like a kid. You don't need to fuss over me, I am okay. I can handle myself. I didn't want you to see me like this. You probably think it's stupid and weak, and ugly.”
“And maybe I was afraid I would scare you off.” His voice quieted down, almost mumbling the last part. He loved Buck so much. He couldn't lose him. He shouldn't show him his broken parts, they weren't deserving of gentleness and love.
“And it's not ugly. You're not stupid, you're not weak. You experienced something truly traumatic. It's okay to not be okay after the things you went through. It's okay to feel like you do.”
Buck didn't mind the part Eddie claimed as doomed, and broken. Eddie could show him every single part of him he hid away, and Buck would still look at him the same, Buck would still love him the same. Because that's what you do when you love somebody. You hold on to the person, love even the parts they hate about themselves. Love can't fix a person, Buck knew that, but love could be a motivator to want to change something, to get better. Love could be the reason someone holds on, it could be the reason Eddie tries to truly, and completely acknowledge himself fully.
“You know after you got shot. I saw you fall down every time I closed my eyes. I felt the blood hit my face. I had nightmares of you getting shot, and dying all the time. And Chris saw me weeping when I got the text that you were alright. And after the tsunami I was so scared of the sea, I didn't go back there for months after.”
Buck chuckled, Eddie stayed silent, overwhelmed with Buck giving him a pep talk. His eyes gloomed with tiredness, his forehead hurt from the strong glance Eddie wore to not break out in tears.
“You don't think Chim didn't freeze up when driving after that rebar went through his head? And you don't think I don't duck mine when I see lightning? What I want to say is, it's normal to be scared, it's normal to feel weak. And you sure as hell are the last person on earth someone would call weak.”
“You won't get rid of me, Eddie.”
It all clicked in Eddie's head. Because Buck was right.
There was never a shame in struggling, and there is no shame in reaching out. Asking for help isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of bravery and strength. Asking for help takes a lot, and sometimes convincing yourself to do it takes more patience and dignity than saying the actual words. People are so held up on their pride that they don't realise that everyone is struggling at times. People are at their worst everyday. Eddie should know, he rushes out to those people to help them. People call 911 for physical help all the time. Why shouldn't people rely on other people, their friends, and others to get the help they need? People need people, something Buck had said before. He might have said it long ago, but it only now arrived in Eddie's brain. He had a family that loved him, a boyfriend that loved him more than anything, they would drop everything, and rush out to him if he asked them to. That's something important that he only now saw. He was never alone, never. It didn't matter who he asked, everyone had a story about what Eddie was going through. Eddie was never alone.
Eddie sat on top of Buck, giving him a deep kiss, ignoring how Buck reeked of smoke. He was right. He was so right, how did Eddie never see that before? Blinded by his own stupidness he forgot that he had such a wonderful support system around him.
“Thank you.”
The next morning came surprisingly fast after that. Eddie woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon sizzling on the stove. Buck was in the kitchen, cooking up breakfast for Eddie. Eddie walked outside his bedroom, watching Buck swirling around the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect. Eddie greeted him, and Buck pulled him in for a good morning kiss. Eddie yawned, sitting down at the kitchen table. Buck placed a coffee in front of him, drawing Eddie's attention from Buck's back in the tanktop to the three plates on the table.
“Morning, dad.” Chris came into the kitchen, Eddie hadn't noticed him.
“Hey, when did you get home?” He pulled Christopher into a big hug.
“Buck picked me up this morning.”
“Of course he did.”
This morning? How long did Eddie sleep for? His eyes met the clock next to the kitchen cupboards. It was almost 1 in the afternoon. Buck broke loose in laughter, watching Eddie's facial expression change from sleepiness to pure shock.
“You were so cute asleep, and I didn't want to wake you.”
“Thank you, Buck.” Eddie said sarcastically while Buck sat down at the table too, opening the Buckley-Diaz breakfast. A perfect start to the day after such a crazy night.
“Oh also, Athena texted. Mike pulled through the surgery.” Buck reported the messages he had woken up to.
“That's good to hear.” Eddie should probably check on the guy. Help him get back on his feet. Maybe they could offer him the couch if he does not have somewhere to go. Eddie's positive that the fire took a real good damage to the house.
“He's going to be okay, because of you.” Buck emphasized, hyping Eddie up in front of his son.
“You were there too, Buck.” Eddie ate, chewing the fluffy pancakes. Buck was an amazing cook, another reason he was glad to have him. “Do we know what happened?”
“Athena said some idiots thought that the fireworks were a perfect distraction for a drive by,” Buck explained, “There were more victims, but all of them survived.”
“That's insane.” Mike was only a victim of opportunity, he stood in the wrong place at the wrong time, standing outside, watching the fireworks. It was just sad that something so beautiful almost got turned into a tragedy.
“And the fire?”
“A firework hit the roof.” So a freak accident. Poor Mike. He had lost his house, and almost his life. Eddie wasn't sure if there was a family that belonged to Mike. He wasn't married, no kids, and never mentioned anyone.
“Did they get caught?” Chris asked, reaching for the orange juice.
“They have one of them, I'm sure they'll find the rest, too.”
“I hope so.”
With that the conversation faded to what Chris did last night, and Buck spilled the most random did you know facts he had in store. Eddie stayed quiet, watching the two people he loved the most talk over a nice breakfast. It relaxed Eddie, no tense muscles, no headache creeping up on him, just lightness. A lightness that made the hard days worth it, a lightness that made carrying the heaviness easier.