A bit of the draft of the fic I'm writing for tonight's episode
Eddie had fallen asleep with his phone clutched tightly in his hand, his text chain with Buck open to the frankly concerning number of unread messages he had sent. Buck hadn't responded to him one time since that morning, when he had been sitting at the station eating breakfast. He hadn't even read the messages. Neither had anyone else. All the internet would tell him about LA was that there was an odd uptick in military helicopters in the area, and roads leading to some sort of biolab were barricaded. Nobody, not even the news sites, had been able to discover why, and that more than anything had sent pure, unadulterated panic through his body. Because if they were being that protective of what was happening, doing that much to preserve the secrets of reality, something was very wrong. And Buck hadn't been answering his phone.
He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, wasn't sure when his panic that he'd been trying his hardest to hide from Chris had given way to exhaustion, but it must have happened at some point because the sound of his phone ringing startled him awake. His phone almost slipped between his fingers to the flor but caught it just in time, squinting at the screen. The picture of Buck that Maddie had, quite randomly, sent him filled the screen, Buck’s name prominent, not the usual FaceTime Eddie was used to. A mix of blinding relief and suffocating concern swept over him as he blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up, swiping his thumb across the screen to answer.
"Eds." The pure and utter devastation in Buck’s voice almost had Eddie scrambling to his closet to pull out a bag and start packing immediately. Becauae Buck-- Eddie had never heard Buck sound like that before, besides maybe when he'd found him after the Tsunami all those years ago and-- "Eds."
A sob, choked and absolutely gutted, echoed through the phone and Eddie could already feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes because if Buck was-- was--
"It's-- Bobby's dead. Eddie, he's dead, I--"
For a second, the world seemed to stop, screeching to a terrifying, sickening halt, sending him barreling into the abyss of the universe, suffocating without the atmosphere. The words barely registered in his brain, barely scratched the surface of what he could comprehend, because it was Bobby. Bobby Nash. He was-- Eddie had always, foolishly, felt like he was immortal. Even when he'd been dying in a hospital bed a year before and Buck was cracking, and Athena was losing it with a mix of grief and desire for revenge, some part of him had known that Bobby would be okay, because he was Bobby. The thought of him really and truly being-- no, no, it didn't make sense. But Buck wouldn't-- If there was even a chance that Bobby was alive, would survive whatever had happened, Buck would never have even uttered those words as a possibility. And that alone snapped the world back into place, set time going again, brought it all harshly back. Bobby was--
"What-- Buck, what--" Eddie tried to get his words to come out normally, tried to form an actual sentence, but all that was echoing in his mind was the word dead, dead, dead. Buck sobbed over the line again, drawing in a heaving breath and choking on it, another sob cutting through. Not once in the entire month he'd been down there, had he wanted, needed to be with Buck as much as he did in that moment. Not once in his entire life, had he ever felt so desperately in the wrong place than in this moment. He needed to get to LA, needed to get to Buck, to the 118. If Bobby was--
"Buck, Evan, you need to breathe, okay? Just-- just breathe, for a second. Please." Eddie tried to ignore how choked his own words sounded, how much every breath grated at his chest. First, before he could even think to break down, he had to help Buck. Because he knew nobody else could, would, in this moment and-- and Buck needed him. He would break down once he was alone, or on his way. Because there was no way in hell he wasn't going to LA as soon as physically possible. Not with this. Whatever this even really was.
Buck whimpered, still choking on every breath, practically hyperventilating. Eddie needed to do something. "Buck, just, listen to my voice. Listen. It's-- it's gonna be okay, you hear me? We're-- Right now, what you-- you need to do, is just breathe for me, okay? Slow, just follow me."
"Eds." Eddie could barely make out his own name as Buck whimpered it, but another part of his heart cracked and splintered.
"Buck, in, slow, hold it, then out, hold it." Even though his voice shook slightly, Eddie forced his breathing to stay slow and calm, exaggerating it just slightly so Buck could hear him better. Buck still heaved, choked, and Eddie’s chest panged with guilt for something he never expected to regret. "Again, okay, copy me, Evan. Inhale, now exhale."
Slowly, almost painfully slowly, each sob driving the knife in his heart even deeper and twisting it, Buck started to breathe with him. The heaving gasps and sobs gave way to shuddering breaths and a small whimper, gave way to an almost eerie silence as Buck started to breathe again. Even after Buck’s breaths evened out, Eddie continued to slightly exaggerate his own, though at rhat point he wasn't sure ìf it was really for Buck’s sake anymore, or his own.
"Eddie, he-- he's really gone this time. I don't-- I don't know what to do. I don't-- Eddie." Buck sobbed again, and the tears that had been burning at his eyes started to spill over, slowly rolling down his cheeks, down the bridge of his nose. But he couldn’t cry, not yet. "I didn't even-- I couldn't even say goodbye."
Eddie clutched his phone so tight he feared the glass and metal would bend and break under his hands. Every muscle in his body ached to be there, to be able to pull Buck into the hug that he so obviously needed, that Eddie needed, but he couldn’t find tickets home yet, couldn't leave Buck alone to get to him until he was sure Buck was-- as close to okay as he possibly could be after losing Bobby.
"It--It was a lab explosion. Aerolized a-- a super strain of CCHF. I-- they got trapped inside. And Chim’s mask broke and he-- he got infected. He's lung collapsed and they had to-- had to do emergency surgery while trapped inside with nothing. And we thought-- we were so sure we fixed it. We had the antiviral, we got it to Chim, and for a minute it seemed okay. But-- Eddie, Bobby-- Bobby’s tube got damaged and-- and he-- Eddie, he locked us out. He-- he said it would be okay, but I-- I don't know what to do. He said he loved me and I-- I didn't--" Buck sobbed again and Eddie leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling above and trying desperately to hold back his own sob.
"No, he said they would-- would need me. But I don't-- I don't know how to do this without him. I'm not ready to live in that world, Eddie, I'm not."
Eddie didn't know what to say, didn't have a clue what anyone could possibly say to this, because what could words even do? Words would only feel hollow now, empty, because no matter what he said, Bobby would still be dead. And that-- that wasn't something any of them, but especially not Buck, could move on from, especially not with just words.
Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself onto his feet, stumbling towards his closet, because words weren't enough and he had to get to Buck, had to get to his family. "Buck, I'll be there as soon as I can. I-- Buck, I know-- I know how this feels. I know you think you can't do this. I know-- I know you're breaking apart right now, but-- don't do anything stupid. Don't-- I will be there soon, and-- and we'll figure it out, okay? We'll-- We'll be okay. You'll be okay. It'll--"
Eddie pulled the duffle bag from his closet and began filling it with what clothes he could identify between the tears blurring his vision. Keep going, keep moving, that was all he could do, because if he let himself really think about it, he'd break down like Buck had and he couldn't afford that right now. Buck needed him, his family needed him, Chris would need him when he woke him up. Once he was in LA, once everything was-- was figured out, he could break. But not now.
"Buck, I am coming, okay? I'm gonna stay on the phone, I'm gonna buy tickets, and-- and Chris and I will be there as soon as we can. But Buck, I need you to just-- hold on until then, okay?" Eddie yanked the zipper shut and slid out of his room, heading towards the living room where he left his laptop, still open to whatever news articles he could find on LA.
"I know, baby, I know. It'll-- we'll figure it out, okay? Just breathe with me." The laptop screen felt blinding, a square of blurry, bright light stabbing at his eyes when he tapped the space bar with fingers he hadn't even noticed were trembling. He blinked against the tears, swallowed the sobs still in the back of his throat. This wasn't how he’d thought he'd be buying tickets home, wasn't how he'd thought he'd return to LA. Every atom in him wished that it wasn't, wished he was pulling up the list of flights from El paso to LA the next morning to visit or to move back, not-- not because--
Buck whimpered a little, the noise digging into Eddie’s chest, and he clicked on the first direct flight he saw, at 7am, five hours away. He needed to be there now, but this was-- it was all he could do. Eddie had never felt so powerless before, so-- what ifs clawed at the back of his mind, trying to force their way through, but he couldn't. He couldn't break yet, couldn't spiral. They needed him. He bought two tickets with barely even a glance at the price-- he'd worry about it later. It didn't matter. Not now. And closed his laptop, curling back into the couch like it could somehow make this better. It didn’t. He wasn’t sure anything could. Bobby was gone and-- and they all had to pick up the pieces.
areudirty
jacobvanloon
kaledo-art
titsay
jbbartram-illu
ellievsbear
stormborns
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
kianamaiart
