Work Text:
Eddie was familiar with death, he'd seen far too much of it.
When he was young, he lost his Abuelo. He didn't remember much about the man, so how could he really grieve the man?
He saw death in the field, watching his fellow soldiers get shot down for a supposedly noble cause.
Their families received a body if they were lucky, but many never got that luxury.
Greggs' death was particularly hard because Eddie didn't save him. He tried, but there was nothing he could do.
So, he saved the rest of the helicopter and dragged Greggs' body out for him family to bury.
He was rewarded for his heroic act, but the medal met nothing to him.
It meant even less when he found out that everyone else in that helicopter died as well.
There would always be victims on scenes that Eddie couldn't save, that was simply part of being a firefighter, but one would always stand out.
Because she wasn't just a victim. She was Shannon.
He lost the mother of his child even though it was his job to save her.
Her passing left damage behind that he didn't know how to fix, so he bottled everything up and pretended it didn't affect him.
When Chris left, Eddie mourned the loss of his kid even though he was still alive. He was alive and 800 miles away.
Chasing after Chris made it feel like he was losing the 118, they weren't as close as they once were after he left.
Bobby's death brought them all back together, but his absence left an irreplaceable hole in their lives.
When his abuela passed, he grieved but he also felt a certain peace with it. He actually believed it when people said she was in a better place.
But Buck's death felt different from the rest.
It felt different, not only because of how closely their lives intertwined or how much love Eddie felt for him, because he was struggling silently for months and Eddie didn't even realize.
Eddie didn't save him, because he didn't even know Buck needed saving.
And it was different because Buck wanted to die. His death was an active choice and not some outside force.
Eddie didn't see his death, but he was the one to find Buck.
No one had heard from Buck in days, even his neighbors weren't aware if he even left his house.
He didn't answer anyone when they stopped by, he didn't open the door when they knocked.
Everyone was having a difficult time dealing with the anniversary of Bobby's death, so they just assumed this was Buck's way of grieving.
But not Eddie. He knew it was different.
His key clicked into the lock and the door swung open a moment later.
"Buck?" He called out, walking farther into the house. "Buck, it's Eddie." He added, dumbly.
The house was quiet, the lights were all off, nothing moved.
Eddie continued his search of Buck's house, getting increasingly more worried with each empty room.
Something caught Eddie's attention, not a noise or a flicker of movement, but a smell.
Vomit.
"Buck?" Eddie repeated, more panicked as he ran toward the bathroom.
The bathroom looked like something straight out of Eddie's nightmares.
The only light came in from the bedroom window, illuminating scattered pills and orange bottles across the floor and the slumped over form of Buck.
Buck had dried vomit trailing down his face and soaked into his clothes, his skin was pale- bloodlessly pale-, his cheeks were hollowed, his eyes sunken and unseeing, his limbs limp at his side.
Eddie moved closer, searching for a pulse as he tried to pretend like this was something recent- a few minutes ago maybe.
There was no pulse, only the icy cold of a corpse's skin.
"Buck.." Eddie choked out, his hand falling away from the blonde's pulse point to the familiar groove where his neck and shoulder met.
How long had he been like this? Hours? Days?
So alone and in so much pain.
Eddie couldn't tell.
Loud sobs racked Eddie's body, filling the desolate house with the sounds of his agony.
He hung his head low, unable to keep staring at the corpse in front of him.
It was a corpse, no longer his best friend- the man he loved but never got to tell.
He still had so much he wanted to say to Buck, but now he'd never get to.
Eddie stayed in the bathroom, pressed up against Buck's body for an hour, maybe two, waiting like somehow Buck would magically come back to him if he cried long enough.
Eventually, tears stopped flowing and somehow that was worse because Eddie could clearly see what used to be his love with no buffer and it made him want to cry even more.
Shakily, Eddie forced himself to stand.
He absently cleaned up the bathroom and carried Buck's body out, laying it on his bed and covering it with a sheet.
An envelope fell to the floor when Eddie disturbed the bedding, landing by his feet face up.
In Buck's neat handwriting read: Eddie
Eddie dove to the floor, scooping up the envelope like it was the most precious thing on Earth.
He opened it with shaky hands, pulling out papers- notes- that were all addressed to him.
Eddie,
This is my third attempt at writing this, so go easy on me.
You might be wondering why this is addressed to you and not Maddie, it's because I knew you'd be the first to realize something was wrong.
You've always had my back and over the years I'd like to say we've gotten pretty close, closer than I've been with anyone else.
I really hate to make it about me, but I guess that's what led to this.
The truth is I've been struggling for a while, probably longer than you think.
Ever since New Mexico, I can't help but feel like I'm not supposed to be here anymore.
I've felt like this before, after the lightning strike, but I got better so I didn't want to worry anyone.
But, I guess that playing house with a psychopath really upped the ante.
Even if it was for, like, a day.
I just don't get why Derek- someone who had such a supportive, crazy loyal, loving family- died and I somehow deserve to live.
The only reason I was born was to save Daniel and I failed, so why am I still here?
I've died before, what makes me special enough to keep living after that?
This note isn't all boring, sob stories like that, I just needed to get that out.
The real reason I'm writing this note to you is because
I love you
I have for a really, really long time, Eds.
You're probably the only person I've loved this strong.
You are my whole world.
And I'm not saying this so you feel guilty, I just needed you to know because I need you to know you're loved
even if I'm not here to say it.I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.
So, please, do it for me.
You and Chris deserve the world and I can't give it to you.
I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me for this.
Love, Evan Buckley
Eddie took out the other two papers, Buck's drafts for his suicide note.
He almost found it laughable that Buck drafted his own suicide note. Almost.
The papers were covered in dried tears, words blurred together on the warped page and most of the words were crossed out.
They both reinforced so strongly that Buck loved him, not as a best friend, romantically.
Eddie broke down because maybe in a different world Buck got help, maybe Eddie saw what was wrong and helped Buck dig himself out of this hole, maybe they confessed to each other and got to live happily ever after.
But not in this world.
In this world, Buck died thinking he didn't deserve to live and that the man he loved could only ever care for him platonically.
The tears came back, Eddie was once again ugly sobbing over the love of his life.
How could Buck do this to him? To Christopher? To all of the people that loved him?
"Why?" Eddie asked. "Why?!" He demanded, slamming his fist into the mattress. "Why did you leave me, Evan?!"