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For Evan Buckley, it started small. The kind of ache you could ignore if you just kept moving. A missed call here. A glance that didn't linger. Conversations that stopped when he walked into the room. He told himself it was temporary. That things would settle. That they always did.
But then the weight started pressing down. Slow, steady, suffocating. Like the air had thickened and he was the only one who noticed. He tried to keep up, to smile, to act like he didn't hear the way his name was said now...
Careful, cautious, like it might cut someone just to speak it.
Eventually, he stopped trying.Let the calls go unanswered. Let the silence fill in the spaces where laughter used to live. And now... his apartment felt like a tomb.
He hadn't moved from his bed in hours. Maybe longer. The first few were normal. He was tired and so he sent himself back to sleep. He then woke up and began doom scrolling through his socials while ignoring every other notification that rang in. But eventually, those normal actions turned into bed rotting. Time had stopped making sense. He stared up not really seeing anything. His thoughts circled like vultures, picking over the bones of everything he'd done wrong.
And then the tears came. Slow and unwelcome.
He sat up slowly and began staring at the wall, vision blurry from the tears he hadn't bothered to wipe away. They clung to his lashes like dew on glass, distorting the world around him into something soft and unrecognizable. It was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made your skin itch and made your thoughts louder. A silence that screamed in all the places where voices used to be.
He got up slowly, walking towards his bedroom door. He needed a glass of water.
The loft was dark. Blinds still shut from three days ago, though he wasn't sure when "three days ago" even was. Time had lost its shape. Hours bled into one another. The clock ticked somewhere behind him, steady and indifferent.
As he made it to the kitchen where he grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water, he noticed his surroundings slightly. The dishes in the sink had begun to rot, dishes he couldn't even remember dirtying. On the counters, laid his uneaten breakfast and his uneaten dinner from the night before. The other uneaten meals resided in the fridge as "leftovers" he was never going to touch. And the air was thick with the scent of alcohol, old coffee, and something sour he couldn't quite identify.
He placed the cup down and headed back to his room. His safe haven.
His closet was open, clothes that he had worn spiraled across the room. And his uniform hung like a ghost, starched and ready, untouched. It looked like it belonged to someone else now. A better man. The kind of man people trusted to run into burning buildings, to catch them when they fell. Once, he wore that uniform with pride. Now it was just a symbol of everything he'd lost.
His job. His team. His purpose. It was all he had.
But worst of all... his place in the firehouse. In his family.
And no loss cut deeper than Eddie.
He could take the cold shoulders. He could survive the whispered doubts, the looks cast from across the room like knives. He'd been through pain before. Physical, emotional, it didn't matter. He could endure.
But this? This wasn't pain. This was absent. A void carved out of him where Eddie used to be. Where Christopher used to smile up at him with trust and joy, like he was someone special. Someone safe. Now Eddie barely looked at him, eyes passing over him like he wasn't even there. Like Buck was just some guy on the street, unremarkable and replaceable.
That was what shattered him. Not the anger. Not the betrayal. The emptiness.
He'd filed that lawsuit thinking it was his way back. A desperate, clumsy grasp at something that had already started to slip through his fingers. He thought if he just fought, they'd see it. That he wanted to be there. That he belonged.
But instead, they'd looked at him like he was the enemy. And maybe he was. Maybe he had betrayed them. Daybed trying to prove his worth only proved he didn't have any to begin with.
Now he was just... gone. A footnote in the story of Station 118 of the LAFD. A name people would stop mentioning because it made things awkward.
He couldn't take it any longer. He stood up slowly, wiping away remaining tears. He looked at his phone and stared at the home screen before turning it off and throwing it near his pillow. He then grabbed his hidden bottle of whiskey he kept under his bed and made his way towards the bathroom where he opened the cabinet and fumbled blindly for a prescription bottle.
The painkillers were left over from his recovery. The ones he told himself he didn't need anymore. The ones that still sat, unopened, in the back of the cabinet. Until now.
Once he found what he was looking for, he shit the cabinet and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The hollow ghost of the man he used to be staring back at him. He then slowly sat down, leaning his back against the tub as he opened the whiskey bottle before fumbling with the top of the painkillers.
It wasn't a dramatic moment. No grand declaration. No final words written down in a text or scribbled on paper. It was quiet. Heavy. A slow, sinking surrender.
He popped the cap with trembling fingers. The pills rattled like bones in his palm as the intrusive thought came through.
No one cares.
You ruined everything. You always do.
They're better off without you.
You don't belong anywhere. You never really did.
He washed them down with the whiskey, half a bottle he hadn't even tasted until now. It burned all the way down. Sharp, bitter. But it felt good. Real. A kind of pain he could control.
He leaned back against the tub, head lolling slowly to the side. The world blurred, edges softening like watercolors bleeding together.
More thoughts crowded in, louder now, like a chorus.
Coward. Disappointment. Failure.
You're just taking up space.
You're a burden.
The world tilted. Spun. Then... nothing. The world went black.
//////////
Eddie Diaz peeled off his turnout gear slowly, each motion deliberate, almost mechanical. He could still feel the heat of the last fire clinging to his skin, the phantom weight of the hose across his shoulders. The shift had been brutal, two structure fires, a multi-car pile-up, and a pediatric call that had left him staring at the locker door longer than necessary. His whole body ached, but none of it compared to the tight, suffocating pressure in his chest.
The silence in the locker room was thick. No one said much these days. Not with the lawsuit hanging in the air like smoke that never cleared. Not when Buck's absence haunted every empty chair, every call, and every breath.
Eddie tied his boots with more force than necessary and stood, rubbing a hand over his face.
It had been weeks since Buck filed. Longer since he'd looked Eddie in the eyes. Longer still since they'd really talked.
He hadn't planned on going to Buck's place. Not really. But as he walked out to the parking lot and tossed his bag into the back seat of the truck, the thought wouldn't leave him alone. Bobby had mentioned Buck hadn't been answering calls or texts. Chim tried swinging by his loft two days ago, urged by Maddie, but said Buck never opened the door.
And Eddie... Eddie had been avoiding it. Avoiding him.
Because he didn't know what to say. Because 'I'm sorry' wasn't enough. Because even if Buck had hurt them all, Eddie still couldn't stop thinking about the sound of Buck's voice cracking when he asked, "would you back me up?"
And how Eddie didn't answer. The guilt had gnawed at him ever since.
Now it had its claws around his ribs and wouldn't let go.
Traffic blurred past him on the drive over, but Eddie barely registered it. He kept rehearsing what he'd say when he saw Buck. 'Hey, man. Just wanted to check on you. Thought maybe we could talk.' Maybe he wouldn't have to say anything at all. Maybe Buck would open the door and give him one of those half-smiles and they could sit in silence for a while, just...existing. Like they used to.
But when he pulled up to the familiar building and climbed the stairs to Buck's loft, the feeling in his gut shifted.
Something felt off.
The door wasn't locked.
That wasn't like Buck.
The second Eddie opened the door, he knew something was wrong.
The smell hit first. Alcohol, acrid and heavy, clinging to the air like a fog. A takeout container that had to be more than two days old sat open on the counter, sour and rotting. But it was the silence that made Eddie's stomach drop.
No hum of the TV. No music playing from Buck's ever-present speaker. No sign of life.
"Buck?" Eddie called out, stepping inside cautiously.
No answer.
He moved through the apartment slowly, scanning the living room, the kitchen, empty. The couch was unmade, cushions out of place, a hoodie thrown carelessly over the back. But no buck. He peeked into the hallway, checked the laundry room, the small guest room, even the tiny balcony.
Nothing.
"Buck?" He called again, louder this time, his voice echoing off the walls.
Still nothing.
A chill crept up his spine. His pulse quickened.
He's probably just out. Grabbing coffee. Walking. Something.
But that voice in the back of his mind, the one trained from years in the military and the year he's had on this job, the one that always knew when something was wrong, was screaming.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Buck's name. Hit call.
It rang.
Not once. Not twice.
But from inside the apartment.
Eddie froze, the tiny ringtone echoing faintly from down the hall.
He followed the sound to Buck's bedroom.
The phone was sitting on the bed, screen still lit with Eddie's name. A soft chirp marked the call going to voicemail.
"Buck..." He said quietly, heart starting to pound.
He looked around. No signs of a struggle. At least he could rule out possible kidnapping. The bed was half-slept in, the sheets tangled. He crossed the room quickly and turned toward the bathroom.
The door was shut. Locked.
He paused, pressing his ear to the door. No sound. No running water. No movement.
"Buck? Are you there? Buck, open the door." His voice was sharper this time as he knocked multiple times. No answer. He knocks once more. Still nothing. "Buck, open the door. I swear to go, if you don't answer me, I'm kicking this door in!"
His chest tightened. His breath came faster now. Silence. Not even a creak.
A beat passed and Eddie moved.
One solid kick near the handle and the frame splintered open. The door slammed back against the wall.
And Buck was there. On the floor. Crumbled in a heap beside the bathtub, one arm limp across his stomach. A bottle lay on its side nearby, what was left of the pills scattered like tiny white markers of a war already lost. His skin was too pale. Lips tinged with blue. Eyes shut.
For one horrifying second, Eddie couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Then everything hit at once.
"No." He was on his knees before he realized it, hands shaking as he reached for Buck. He pressed fingers to his neck, searching, panicking.
A pulse. Faint. Thready. But there.
"Buck!" He cried out, desperately. "Evan! Come on, man, wake up!"
No response.
Eddie's voice cracked as he pulled out his phone with trembling hands.
"911, what's your emergency?" He left out a breath of relief, thank god it wasn't Maddie.
"Firefighter down," He choked. "Suspected overdose. He's a white male, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, 6'2", 27 years of age. Address is 460 S Spring St #104, Los Angeles, Ca 90013. I need an ambulance. He's...he's not responsive. Please-"
He dropped the phone, not waiting for the dispatcher to finish. He turned back to Buck, lowering his ear to his chest..
A breath. Barely there. Shallow. Rattling.
"You don't get to do this," Eddie whispered, his voice breaking. "You don't get to leave me. Not again."
He gathered Buck in his arms, rocking him gently. The tears came fast, hot and helpless.
"I'm here," He whispered. "I've got you. Just hold on."
He could hear the sirens wailing in the distance faintly but he didn't stop crying.
Didn't stop holding him. Didn't stop whispering, "Please, Buck. Please."
The moment Eddie heard Buck's breath stutter, fragile and fading, instinct took over.
"No, no, come on," he murmured, laying Buck flat as best he could, shifting his body away from the tub. "Stay with me."
His training kicked in, his hands finding position over Buck's chest, pressing down, hard and fast. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Repeat.
"Come on, Buck. Breathe. You've got to fight, okay?" His arms ached, but he didn't stop. "You don't get to just lie down and leave me for good-"
Buck's body barely responded. His chest rose just slightly with each breath Eddie forced into him, lips sealed tightly over Buck's, his hands slick with sweat.
"Please," Eddie whispered through clenched teeth, voice thick with desperation. "Just hang on. Don't do this."
The sirens were close now, closer than before.
He didn't stop CPR. Not for a second. Not even when tears blurred his vision, falling onto Buck's pale skin.
Then...hands on his shoulders.
"Sir, we've got him. Let us work!" Eddie didn't register the words at first. He was still pressing, still breathing for Buck, still holding onto something that felt like it was slipping away. "Sir. Sir. We've got him."
The EMTs had to physically peel him back. One arm pulled gently but firmly away, the other pried off buck's chest. One of them guided him out of the way as the others took over. Bag valve mask. Monitor pads. Injection.
Eddie stumbled backward, dazed, hands shaking, smeared with sweat and tears and whatever fight he had left. One of the EMTs, the one who had pulled him back, put a steady hand on his arm. "Are you riding with us?"
Eddie just nodded, following them outside and climbing into the back of the ambulance without another word. He couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
Buck was still. So still. The heart monitor beeped faintly beside them, uneven, warning.
And suddenly...it was her. Shannon. Laid out in that same cold space. Faint breath. Weak pulse.
He had been right there too. Holding her hand. Whispering the same desperate prayers.
Please stay.
The flashback hit like a wave. Red and white lights flashing, sirens piercing his ears, someone shouting for epinephrine, compressions, the stench of antiseptic.
Then, just like then...flatline.
The monitor shrieked a single, sharp note. The sound sliced through him.
"No!" Eddie lurched forward, panic flooding every nerve. "Do something! Do something!"
One of the EMTs put a hand on his chest, holding him back. "Sir, you need to breathe. We've got him. You're in shock."
"I can't-" Eddie's voice caught in his throat, his chest constricting. "I can't lose him. I can't-"
"You're okay. You're okay." The EMT said firmly, pulling out a blood pressure cuff, wrapping it around Eddie's arm with practiced calm. "You need to stay with me, okay? Just look at me. Deep breaths."
Eddie tried. The world was spinning. The monitor was flat. Please. Not again.
The other EMT kept working, eyes sharp, focused. The paddles came out. Chest jolted. Once. Twice. Then...a flicker. A beep. Weak. Slow. But steady.
"He's back," someone said.
The air returned to Eddie's lungs all at once, and he sagged against the wall of the ambulance, hand fisting in his shirt, still gasping. Tears still streaked his face.
The EMT watching him gently adjusted the cuff. "Your BP's spiking from the shock. I want you checked out at the hospital too."
Eddie didn't answer. His eyes were locked on Buck, pale and unconscious but breathing.
The moment the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, it was a blur of shouting, movement, flashing lights. A trauma team was already waiting.
They wheeled Buck out fast, voices echoing around Eddie as he followed, trying to stay close.
But the nurse held up a hand.
"I'm sorry." She spoke. "You can't go any further. You'll have to wait here."
"No, wait-" Eddie's voice cracked, hoarse. "Please. He- He needs someone. He's not alone, he can't be-"
"We'll do everything we can," The nurse said gently. "But you need to let us work. You need to sit down."
He didn't fight. He didn't have the strength.
The doors shut behind Buck and the team of doctors and nurses, and Eddie sank into the first chair he could find in the waiting room, the fluorescent lights far too bright.
His hands still shook. His chest felt hollow.
Everything was quiet except for the sound of his shallow breathing and the usual business of a hospital waiting room. And he couldn't stop the thoughts from pooling in.
What if I was too late?
What if he never wakes up?
The grief settled like lead in his gut, heavy and familiar. His eyes hollow with grief, his heart pounding in silence, waiting to find out if the man he couldn't admit he loved would survive the night.
//////////
The waiting room was cold in the way hospitals always were, too bright, too sterile, too quiet. Eddie sat hunched over in the chair he hadn't moved from in hours, arms crossed over his chest like they were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His clothes were still damp with sweat, and the faint scent of Buck's loft still clung to him. Booze, regret, fear.
Ge called them after Buck coded for the second time. The team.
It had taken everything in him to pull out his phone, to scroll through his contacts with shaking fingers, and to hit 'Call'. Maddie and Chim first. Then Bobby and Athena. By the time he made it down the rest of the list, his voice had mostly given out. The words came flat and jagged, barely audible. "It's Buck. It's bad. He's at Angels Memorial. Just...please come."
He didn't tell them the details. He didn't have to.
Now, an hour later, the elevator doors opened, and the storm rolled in.
Maddie was first through the doors, her eyes wide and wild, Chim right behind her, flanked by Bobby and Athena and later Hen and Karen were close behind, all of them still in their clothes from home, barely held together by adrenaline and fear.
"Where is he?!" Maddie cried, her voice breaking as she spotted Eddie. "Where's Buck?!"
"Is he conscious?" Athena demanded. "Eddie, talk to us."
Eddie stood slowly, but his legs barely carried him forward. The words clawed at his throat, but when he tried to speak, nothing came out. His mouth opened, but all that emerged was a strangled breath, a sharp shake of his head, and the tremble of his hands.
Maddie reached for him, her eyes already glistening. "Eddie, please. What happened?"
He looked at her, at all of them. He tried to explain. Tried.
"He...he locked the door," Eddie finally whispered, his voice raw and barely coherent. "He didn't answer. I thought maybe he was just...busy. But then I found his phone. And the bathroom door was locked. He didn't answer. He didn't answer. Oh god...he didn't answer..."
"Eddie," Bobby said softly, stepping forward.
"I kicked the door in." Eddie tried to continue but that was it. The rest didn't come out. His chest heaved, the pain clawing its way to the surface. The images hit him all of again. Buck on the floor, the empty bottle, the scattered remaining pills, the silence. The way he'd felt Bucks pulse fade under his fingers. The way the monitor had gone flat twice more after the ambulance arrived. The way each flatline had cracked him open. "He died...two more times. His heart...he just kept-"
The words collapsed under the weight of his grief. The tears returned without warning, spilling over as a choked sob escaped him, and his knees buckled.
Athena caught him before he hit the ground.
"Shh, i've got you," She whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around him in a way only a mother could. "Let it out, Eddie. You don't have to carry this alone."
And finally, he broke.
His entire body shook with the force of his sobs, grief pouring out of him in waves as Athena held him close. The rest of the team stood frozen, stunned into silence by the raw devastation in front of them.
"It's okay." Athena whispered softly, rubbing his back while her chin rested on his head. "It's okay. It's okay."
Maddie turned away, pressing her hand over her mouth to stifle her own sob. Chim pulled her into his arms.
Hen and Karen sat down beside Eddie and Athena, helping to comfort him further. Eddie could feel their hands on his back, their others brushing through his hair.
Bobby just stood, jaw tight, eyes glassy. Silent. He had already lost two children. He couldn't handle losing Buck.
"They said he's stable now," Eddie choked, clinging to Athena like a lifeline. "But he's on a vent. And he's not waking up."
"Then we wait," Athena said softly. "We wait, and we pray, and we stay. Together."
He nodded weakly, the sobs finally starting to subside, though his eyes remained hollow. Worn. Broken.
And so they waited, Buck's family, shattered and silent, holding one another up in the face of the unthinkable. The night wasn't over. But Buck was still breathing. And that was enough for now.
//////////
The following days went by slowly but were somehow still a blur. Buck still hadn't woken up. The machines beeped steadily, his vitals holding, but there was no change. No flicker of his eyelids. No squeeze of a hand. Just the steady hum of life support doing what Buck's body couldn't do on its own yet.
The room never stayed empty for long. Outside of nurses and doctors, everyone came to visit.
Maddie came in every morning before her shift, her voice hoarse from sleepless nights. She'd sit by his side, reading aloud from books he used to love when they were kids. Sometimes she played his favorite music softly from her phone. Other times she just sat there in silence, holding his hand, whispering broken apologies she didn't even know how to make whole.
Chim showed up next, cracking the worst jokes, even when no one was around to laugh. He would've come with Maddie but he wanted her to have her space when sitting with her baby brother. He told Buck what was happening at the station, what Hen said behind his back, what Albert was up to. But his voice trembled at the edges. Especially when he paused too long between stories.
Hen and Karen came as a pair. Karen Brushed Buck's hair back, tender and careful, like he was her own, while Hen quietly read his vitals on the monitor, even though she wasn't on duty. Sometimes she adjusted his blanket or moved the stuffed giraffe Denny had insisted Buck needed to hold.
Bobby and Athena stayed in the doorway more than not, giving others space. Bobby's prayers were silent, but constant. Athena spoke to him softly when she was alone with him, promising justice to the things he was fighting inside.
But Eddie... Eddie came late at night, when the halls were empty and the air was heavier.
When no one was watching and there was no expectation to be strong.
He would sit there, elbows on his knees, fingers laced through Buck's unmoving hand, trying to hold him here through sheer force of will.
And on that third night, something in him cracked.
"You said you wanted to be the kind of man Christopher looks up to. You are, Buck. God, you are. But I need you to wake up. I need you to come back. I can't- I can't do this without you." Eddie's voice was hoarse as he whispered and he broke off before looking down at their hands, his grip tightened. "Please. Just...give me something. Anything. A twitch. A flinch. Just...let me know you're still in there."
The silence stretched. Long enough for his hope to start collapsing in on itself again. Until...he felt it. A squeeze. Tiny. Weak. But real.
Eddie's head snapped up, eyes wide, breath catching in his throat.
"Buck?" He leaned forward, hand trembling around Bucks. "Do that again. Please. Buck, i'm here."
Another faint squeeze.
Eddie scrambled to his feet, voice breaking into a panicked shout. "Nurse! Nurse! He's awake- He's coming back, please!"
The nurse standing in the hall, the one who happened to stop him when Buck was first brought in, followed by another, then a doctor, rushed into the room. And soon, the room turned into organized chaos, quick assessments, muttered commands. Eddie stood off to the side, watching helplessly as they worked to extubate him.
Buck's eyes fluttered open, barely, just slivers, but they were open.
As the tube was carefully removed, Buck gagged and coughed, his chest heaving. The nurse held a cup of water to his lips as soon as it was safe. Buck drank greedily, throat raw and burning, but desperate for something real.
The room slowly emptied again, the nurse promising to send the doctor in soon.
Eddie stayed behind.
Buck blinked up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused and glassy. Then they slid toward Eddie. He seemed to fully take in the hospital bed, the IV lines, the oxygen tubes.
And it hit him. Where he was. Why.
"No, buck rasped, voice wrecked. "No, no, no..."
"Buck, hey. You're okay. You're alive. You-" Eddie stepped forward, heart clenching.
"I wasn't supposed to be," Buck choked, his voice breaking apart. "I-I failed."
"Buck-" Eddie didn't know where to begin.
"I couldn't even do that right," He spat, turning his face to the side, tears sliding hot and fast down his cheeks. "I'm so pathetic I can't even die right."
Eddie moved fast, grabbing Bucks hand again, holding it tight between both of his. "Don't say that. Don't."
"I wanted to be gone," Buck whispered, eyes distant. "And now I'm just...back here. Hurting everyone all over again."
"You're not hurting us," Eddie said fiercely, leaning in close. "You scared the hell out of us. Yeah. But I'd take that over losing you. Every time. Every goddamn time, Buck."
Buck closed his eyes, shoulders shaking with violent sobs. And Eddie stayed right there, holding him together as best he could. Just like Buck had always done for him.
Then, quietly and brokenly, Eddie tried to speak.
"You tried to-" But the words stuck in his throat like glass as he shook his head, jaw clenched. "You tried to...I can't even say it."
'I know," Buck replied sheepishly, barely a whisper as he came to accept his actions. "I'm sorry."
"Are you?" Eddie asked, the edge in his voice sharper than he meant it to be. "Are you sorry? Because you died. You died, Evan. And if you had stayed dead, apologizing wouldn't have done a fucking bit of good. You were gone...you tried to...and you didn't fucking care."
Buck flinched, his face twisting as more tears spilled down his cheeks. He looked up at Eddie with desperation in his eyes. "I did! I did care! That's why I did it..."
"No, you didn't or you never would have fucking done it!" Eddies voice rose, raw and trembling. "You didn't think about Christopher, Maddie, Bobby, or anyone else-"
"I did!" Buck shouted back as loud as he could, the effort sending him into a coughing fit. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe. His voice, when it returned, was hoarse and wrecked. "I was hurting, and I still am, and I...I didn't think about who I might hurt. Or I did, I just...didn't think anyone else would care."
The silence that followed was thick, pulsing with grief and guilt and everything neither of them had said until now.
Eddie sat heavily in the chair beside him, dragging a hand down his face.
"You idiot," he said softly, almost fondly, almost broken. "How could you not know?"
Buck turned his head towards him, exhausted, confused.
Eddie let out a long, shaking sigh.
"You're the best damn partner i've ever had. The best friend. The best person. You make everyone around you better just by existing. And I can't-" His voice cracked again. "I can't lose you. Not again. Because I'm in love with you, Buck."
Buck blinked, stunned. His mouth opened, then closed again, like the words didn't compute.
"You wanted to know who cared?" Eddie gave a bitter laugh through his tears. "I did. I do. I love you. You stubborn, reckless, ridiculous, son of a bitch. I love you, and you nearly destroyed me."
"Eddie..." Buck's lips trembled.
"I should've told you a long time ago. Before this. Before it got this far." Eddie continued. "But I'm telling you now, because you need to hear it. Because you matter. To me. To Christopher. To everyone. But especially me."
For the first time since he'd woken up, Buck let out a breath that didn't feel like a sob. His hand, still shaking, reached for Eddies again and squeezed.
"I didn't think anyone would care," Buck whispered. "Especially because of the lawsuit. I know you guys will never forgive me for that. It's one of the facts that led to what I did. I just couldn't handle the disappointed looks anymore and the stares. The silence."
"Buck...we were angry. Yeah, I won't lie about that. It felt like a betrayal. You were one of us, and then suddenly it felt like you weren't. Like you were against us." Eddie's grip tightened slightly, grounding. "But it was never that simple. It was never just about the lawsuit."
"I didn't know what else to do. I felt like I was drowning and nobody was throwing me a rope." Buck looked down, ashamed. "I thought if I pushed back, someone would finally hear me."
"We should've. That's on us too. You weren't wrong to want answers, to want justice for what happened to you." Eddie exhaled slowly. "But Buck...you didn't have to do it alone. You still don't. And if we made you feel like you did, I'm sorry. I am."
"It felt like I lost everything." Buck's eyes glistened, the pain still raw.
"You didn't lose me," Eddie said firmly. "Even when I was angry, I still cared. Even when i didn't know how to talk to you. You're my best friend, Buck. You're family. Christopher still asks about you when you're not around. He still loves you. I still love you."
"Then why did it feel like no one wanted me around?" Buck swallowed hard, blinking back tears.
Eddie reached out, placing a steady hand on Bucks shoulder.
""Because we're human. We mess up. We react instead of listening. But you matter. You always have. And now you know that we do care." His voice dropped to a murmur. "So don't ever pull that shit again."
"I won't." Buck managed a weak, tearful smile. "I promise."
Eddie leaned forward, forehead pressing gently to Bucks
"Good," He whispered. "Because I'm not letting you go again."
That was all it took.
Buck's breath hitched, his whole body trembling as the tears came again, this time softer, slower, the kind that came when the storm had started to pass, but the damage still lingered. He cried silently between them, the warmth of Eddie's skin grounding him more than any machine or monitor ever could. His fingers curled tighter into Eddie's shirt, clinging like he was afraid letting go would undo everything.
Eddie didn't try to stop the tears. He didn't tell Buck it was okay, because it wasn't, not yet, but he was here. That had to be enough for now.
And then, still pressed close, still breathing in the same space, Eddie tilted his head and kissed Buck. It was desperate, aching, raw. A kiss full of every word he hadn't known how to say, every moment he thought he'd lost him, every inch of his heart he was giving away without hesitation.
Buck responded instantly, lips parting, arms shakily winding around Eddie's shoulder as he kissed him back with just as much intensity, if not more. Their tears mixed between them, but neither pulled away.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, Buck gave a soft sniffle, then shifted, wincing slightly.
"Eds...can you...?" Buck's voice cracked. He moved over slightly in the bed, wincing as his IV tugged. He looked up at Eddie, eyes wide and uncertain. "Can you just...lie here with me? Please?"
"Buck, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you or-" Eddie hesitated for the briefest second, glancing at the equipment, the narrow space of the hospital bed.
"I don't care," Buck said, barely above a whisper. "I just...I need you close."
That was all it took.
Eddie gently climbed into the bed, shifting slowly and carefully to avoid pulling at any wires or tubes. The second he was settled, buck curled into his side like it was second nature, head tucked under Eddie's chin, hand clutching his shirt again.
Eddie wrapped his arms around him, one resting over Buck's back, the other weaving through his hair, brushing softly at his temple. He kissed the top of Bucks head, long and lingering, like a promise he'd never break.
"I've got you," Eddie murmured. "You're safe. I'm not going anywhere."
Buck exhaled shakily, finally letting himself believe it. His tears slowed, and for the first time in what felt like forever...he felt warm. And not alone.
The steady rhythm of Eddie's breathing, the calm thrum of his heartbeat against Buck's cheek, began to lull him. The sterile scent of the hospital faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence he'd longed for. Eddie's fingers continued their slow, soothing pattern through Buck's hair, and Buck's grip on his shirt loosened ever so slightly.
Minutes passed in peaceful silence, broken only by the soft hum of machines and the quiet sighs of contentment from both men. Eddie pressed one last kiss to Buck's hair.
"Sleep," He whispered. "I've got you."
Buck let his eyes close fully, his breathing deepening as his body finally relaxed. Within moments, he drifted off, tucked securely in Eddie's arms.
Eddie stayed awake just a little longer, watching over him like he always had. But eventually, the warmth and stillness pulled him under too.
And there, wrapped around each other in the small hospital bed, they both slept slept safe, together, and finally at peace.
//////////
The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the hospital window, casting a golden hue over the room. The quiet beep of the heart monitor continued its steady rhythm, a soft contrast to the peace that had settled in the space overnight.
Buck and Eddie were still tangled together in the narrow bed, arms wrapped tightly around one another. Buck's head rested beneath Eddie's chin, one hand still loosely fisted his shirt. Eddie's grip hadn't loosened, even in sleep, his arm protectively curled around Buck's waist.
The door creaked open gently. The others were coming to visit. The nurses had given them the news of Bucks awakening when they walked in and they were eager to see how he was doing.
Hen stepped in first, holding a to-go tray of coffees. Chim followed behind, balancing a small bag of pastries, Maddie trailed in close with a warm but nervous smile, and just behind them, Bobby and Athena quietly entered.
The moment they all saw the sight before them, they froze.
"Oh." Hen blinked, then smiled softly.
"They finally got there." Chim's eyebrows rose, but instead of teasing, he simply let out a low, impressed whistle.
Maddie covered her mouth with one hand, eyes shining.
"They look...safe." She whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Without a word, Hen reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, snapping a quick photo. Chim didn't even try to hide that he was doing the same, angling for a betting shot.
"Guys," Maddie murmured, but didn't stop herself from taking a photo too.
"It's for posterity." Chim defended. "And maybe for future blackmail. Mostly posterity though."
Behind them, Athena let out a quiet, amused scoff.
"I know it." She whispered to Bobby, nudging him gently. "I told you."
"Yeah." Bobby simply smiled, arms folded across his chest, his expression soft. "It was just a matter of time."
They all stood for another long moment, letting the peace settle in. Eddie shifted slightly in his sleep, nuzzling closer. Buck instinctively tightened his grip, and a quiet, collective sigh of fondness passed through the group.
"They've been through hell." Hen said softly. "They deserve this."
"They earned this." Bobby added, voice warm. "After everything...it's good to see them find some peace."
Just then, Buck stirred. His brows knit for a moment, like he was waking from a dream, before his eyes fluttered open. He blinked blearily at the room and at the very full group standing there.
"Morning," Hen said cheerfully, lifting the coffee tray. "Hope we're not interrupting...anything."
Buck blinked again, still processing. And then, realization hit.
"Oh-" His voice cracked. "Uh, hey-"
Eddie let out a soft groan behind him, not fully awake yet but instinctively pulling Buck closer. Buck flushed.
"Don't worry." Chim grinned. "We're just admiring the view."
"And collecting photographic evidence." Hen winked.
"Of course you are." Buck let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sigh.
"Are you two planning on making this a daily thing, or was this just a one-time show?" Athena stepped forward, smirking.
Eddie, now barely awake, cracked one eye open and murmured sleepily, "If it keeps the nightmares away...could be daily."
That earned a round of soft chuckles and smiles from everyone in the room.
"Are you okay?" Maddie stepped closer, her eyes on Buck.
"Yeah." Buck looked down at Eddie, who was now slowly waking up, and smiled softly. "I really am."
And for once, it wasn't just something he said. It was something he truly felt.