Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz | 6.7k | teen and up audiences | read on ao3 | sequel
Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.
6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.
(inspired by this post)
-
Buck planned on telling Eddie. Really, he did. He was sitting in front of Conner and Kameron and hoping his smile looked real and thinking what am I gonna tell Eddie? And then he was at the station a few days later and Hen was watching him and Eddie was venting about Chris and it became more about how can he possibly tell this to Eddie?
How can Buck tell Eddie- Eddie, who still has guilt over leaving Chris when he was born- Eddie, who is the best father Buck thinks he’s ever met- Eddie, who will see right through Buck the moment he opens his mouth- how can he tell him what he’s agreed to? That he’s going to be a father who walks away. That he knows it’s going to kill him, but he’s doing it anyway because he can’t say no. That once again, he’s whittling his worth down to a mere collection of parts.
He can’t, is the conclusion he comes to. He can’t tell Eddie. Not yet, at least. Once… once the deed is done, then he’ll come clean. He’ll tell Eddie everything and he’ll close himself off to the pain because what’s done will be done and neither of them can change it. He’ll tell Eddie once it’s too late to back out, because Eddie is the one person that could give him that choice.
So Buck keeps it to himself. He pulls Hen aside during their shift and begs her not to say anything to anyone and she looks at him with those devastatingly caring eyes and touches his arm gently and asks, “Are you sure?” And Buck swallows his tears, puts on a smile, and nods. And Hen lets him go. He goes straight to the bathroom and throws up.
It’s an excruciating two weeks until his doctor’s appointment. He barely speaks to the team. Hen’s giving him space, the only one who knows what he’s dealing with. Chim has seemingly picked up on her behavior and hasn’t pressed Buck. Bobby called him into his office a couple times, asking if he’s alright.
Buck’s been smiling and saying, “Fine, Cap. Just something I’m trying to figure out.” And Bobby’s been giving him a look like he knows something, smiling a little, and telling Buck he’s proud of him. Which… okay, it’s nice to hear, but Buck’s got no idea what he’s referring to. He even asked Hen if she told Bobby anything and she swore she hadn’t. Buck shrugged it off.
The main issue has been Eddie. Once everything blew over with Chris, it became increasingly hard to keep this from Eddie. Eddie… he sees Buck, sees right through him. No- not through him. Buck’s parent’s saw through him, like he was nothing but a ghost, haunting them. Which, in a way, he supposes he was. No, Eddie looks into Buck. Like he’s peeling back the layers to peer right into Buck’s very core, taking his defenses apart piece by piece and leaving him bare, everything laid out for Eddie to pick through and place back together.
Hiding something from Eddie is awful. Because it means Buck can hardly even talk to him. It takes one look and Buck wants desperately to spill his guts, to confess his all sins and have them cleansed away with soft words and gentle touches. He’s been avoiding Eddie, for the most part. He knows it’s hurting Eddie. It’s hurting him. It’s an actual, physical pain. An aching, sharp and hollow in his chest. A burning, gathering in his throat and spreading through his veins.
Eddie’s tried talking to him. He’s begged Buck to tell him was wrong, bribed him with dinners with Chris and activities- family activities. Usually, Buck’s defenseless against those. But… now they make a wave of nausea crest in his gut and tears burn behind his eyes. It’s something he’ll never have, not really. He can play pretend with his Diaz boys all he wants, but when it comes down to it- when it comes down to it, he’s not one of them. Not in the way he wants to be.
And he wants, he wants so bad. He wants to come home every night to them, to wake up with them every morning. He wants to kiss away Eddie’s pout everytime something goes wrong between them, he wants to promise Chris that no matter how mad Eddie might seem, it’s only because he loves him and he’ll calm down. He wants to be there so Eddie doesn’t always have to be the bad cop, he wants to be there whenever Chris has something he feels he can’t tell his dad. He wants to cook them family dinners each night and shop for their groceries and kiss them both goodnight and take care of them when they’re sick. Buck wants. He wants it all, so badly it threatens to crush him sometimes when he remembers he’ll never get it.
But he doesn’t want anyone else, either.
He’s come to that conclusion after many, many hours of thinking about what in his life will actually make him happy. Girlfriends never have. His job does, but it’s not enough. His family does, but not in the way he needs. The closest he’s ever gotten is the few shining moments he’s had with his Diaz boys when it seems like maybe, just maybe, he could belong to them. He doesn’t want anyone else.
He realized that after a conversation with Hen about being Conner and Kameron’s donor.
“Are you really sure this is what you want, Buck?” she’d asked again. She’d asked countless times over the past couple weeks, and Buck had always nonend. This time, though, she’d pressed. “Why? I know you love to help people but- there’s got to be more to this, Buck.”
And he’d been a little tipsy, so he’d sighed heavily and said, “I’ve always- I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Like, one I made, y’know? And… I know they won’t really be mine, but… it’s looking like the only chance I’ll get.”
“Buck,” she’d murmured, “There’s someone out there, someone for you.” Yeah, Buck thought, he’s about a ten minute drive away. “You’ll find them eventually.”
“No,” Buck breathed, shaking his head. Because he’s already found them. And he can never have them. “No, I don’t- this is my chance.” Something in his voice must have indicated he didn’t want to talk about it, because Hen dropped it.
Buck wants Eddie. He doesn’t want the next best thing, and it wouldn’t be fair to whoever that is. He’s going to die exactly how he’s living, half in Eddie’s world and half on his own. One foot inside the house, one foot inside the fire station. He’s trying to accept it.
Two and a half weeks after he sat in front of his friend and promised him his child, Buck’s heart feels about ready to beat out of his chest as he walks towards the doctor’s office. Vaguely, he wonders if he’s having a panic attack. He shakes his head at himself. No, no, he’s fine. He’s fine. He’s gonna go in there, get this done, and then walk away. Just like he agreed. He’s also definitely, definitely not going to think about Eddie.
It’s hard not to, though, because he convinced himself to say yes to Eddie’s invitation to dinner and movie night at the Diaz house tomorrow night. He’s going to tell Eddie. Tomorrow, he’s going to tell Eddie. Once the sample has been processed, once there’s no backing out. Yeah.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door to the doctor’s office. It’s going to be fine.
-
Buck spends the next twenty-four hours in a numb, detached state. He barely sleeps. He goes through the motions of his life. He deep cleans his entire loft because he has the day off but he has to do something. He reads a third of the newest self-help books he’s found, but sitting still allows the nauseous feeling in his gut to build and threaten to overwhelm him. He goes to the gym and pushes himself to almost dangerous levels, until two of the other patrons have to run over and lift off the barbell that’s attempting to crush his throat. He takes that as a sign to go home. He remakes his bed three times until you could bounce a coin off it, reorganizes his book shelf, even cleans his toilet.
Finally, mercifully, the clock hits 5:45 and it’s time to head over to Eddie’s. Climbing in the jeep, his stomach rumbles and he absently realizes he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Hopefully Eddie’s made something good. His cooking has improved a lot lately, but he’ll still occasionally produce something that Chris often likens to an “old shoe.”
He only makes it a few blocks before he gets the call. His phone starts ringing and Buck taps the car display, answering without looking at the caller ID. An unfamiliar voice crackles through the jeep’s audio system.
“Is this Mr. Evan Buckley?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah that’s me. Buck is fine.”
“Hello Mr. Buckley, this is Dr. Alice Offley.”
“Oh! Doctor, of course, hello. Is everything alright?”
“I-” she hesitates and Buck’s heart begins to sink. “There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Buckley, but I have some concerns regarding your medical history that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Y-yeah,” Buck whispers. “Yeah, of course.”
“It says here you’ve suffered both a pulmonary embolism as well as blood clots as recently as 2019?”
“Yes, yeah, but that was- that was a firefighting incident, I’m fine now.”
The doctor only hums thoughtfully. Then, “And there’s a history of cancer in your family?” Buck’s blood runs cold, his heart settling in the pit of his stomach.
“Y-yeah,” he chokes out. “Is that- does that mean I can’t-”
“It means I’ll have to let your recipients know. There are some very serious risks involved that they need to be made aware of.”
“Y-you mean th-the kid could-”
“The child conceived from your DNA could be genetically predisposed to be at risk for cancer, specifically pediatric leukemia.”
The world goes mute. White noise rings in Buck’s ears. The road in front of him blurs. He must hang up, because the screen goes dark. Tears burn his eyes. His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, compressing his heart tighter and tighter until it’s about to burst. He can’t breathe, he can’t see, he can’t hear. Everything has gone muted and numb and this can’t be real. It feels like- it feels like he’s being crushed by the firetruck again, but this time there’s no one here to hold his hand.
And then the impact slams him sideways and his head hits the steering wheel and it feels like nothing at all.
-
Gaining consciousness is a struggle. The darkness calls to him, soothing and alluring and gentle. The blaring horn is the only thing he can latch onto to drag himself out of it. The sound is deafening and nonstop. It’s- it’s coming from his car, he realizes. He can’t see anything, even as he fights to open his eyes. The world swims in and out of view and it’s dark, it’s all dark. Every part of his body hurts. As much as he struggles, he can’t move and he can’t remember what happened.
“H-he-hey S-Siri,” he croaks out. The small chime sounds and relief blooms in his chest. “Call 911.”
The line only rings twice before a male voice answers, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“M-Maddie Buckley,” he gasps.
“I’m sorry sir, what was that?”
“Operator Maddie Buckley,” he begs, his voice breaking into a sob. “Please, please. Maddie.” The line clicks and then,
“Hello?” Buck whimpers out a sob of relief. “This is Maddie, who is this?”
“Mads,” Buck chokes. “Maddie.”
“Buck?” Panic creeps into her voice. “Evan is that you?”
“Accident,” his words are growing slurred and he realizes he doesn’t have long. “I need- I need you t-to call-” He coughs, gasping in breaths as the pain begins to overwhelm him. His vision swims and his breathing is ragged, raspy, pained. “Call Eddie.”
“Evan, where are you?” Maddie pleads, nearly hysteric.
“Please,” he cries. “Please, promise me. Promise me you’ll tell him-”
“Evan, stop.”
“Maddie, listen,” he gasps. “You have to promise me, promise you’ll tell him I’m sorry.”
“No.” Buck can hear the tears in her voice. “No, no. No. You- you can tell him yourself. No.”
“Maddie, I love you. But I need you to promise me you’ll tell him, and tell Chris. Tell them- tell them I loved them a-and I’m sorry, god, I’m so sorry.” His words are slow now, and he can only hope they’re clear enough for her to hear him. She knows, though. He knows she knows. She’ll tell them. But still, he whispers, “Promise me.”
“I promise,” Maddie sobs. “But Evan, I need you to stay with me. Please, please don’t leave me. Stay awake, come on baby brother.”
“I love you. ‘M s’rry,” Buck slurs, and then he lets go and the darkness swallows him. He doesn’t even hear the last thing he whispers, “I think I’d have been a good dad.”
-
There’s a hand in his. Rough and warm, calluses brushing against his skin, holding onto him tightly. This is the first thing he’s aware of. The next is the beeping. Monotonous and steady, repetitive. It’s a familiar sound, but he can’t place it. Third is the smell. Again, he can’t place it. But it’s earthy and sweet and just… the only word that comes to him is home.
He’s floating, not really anywhere at all. He’s not in the blackness anymore. Now it’s more gray. He can’t feel anything except the hand holding his. Then the hand shifts, pulling his up, and soft lips brush against his knuckles. The lips slide over his fingers and then a cheek, damp with tears, is resting against their joined hands.
He hears a sniffle, small and heartbroken. He wants to reach out, to wipe away the tears, to kiss away the crying. Then the person clears their throat. When they talk, the voice comes out gravelly and rough.
“I need you to wake up, Buck.” It’s more a plea than a command, heavy with grief. “Please. Please, I- I don’t- I can’t do this without you, man. Any of it. Please wake up. Please.” And Buck wants to. He wants to come back to this person whose name flits from his grasp but he knows he loves more than anything in this world. He wants to do whatever it takes to take the pain out of their voice.
There’s a shaky, tearful sigh, and then there’s a hand on his forehead, adjusting his curls gently, fingertips brushing his skin. “It wasn’t your fault. Maddie- Maddie said that you kept saying sorry. That she was begging you to tell her where you were, but you just… kept saying sorry. Sorry to me. Me and Chris. Like- like you thought we’d blame you. She said you used every breath you had trying to reach us.” The tears are coming now, dripping onto Buck’s skin and rolling toward his wrist.
The person takes a deep, broken up breath. “She said it was almost too late when they got to you. You almost- you almost didn’t- you almost didn’t make it, Evan.” The words are hitching, threaded with stifled sobs. “You still might not, and I don’t know what the hell happens if you don’t. I can’t- I can’t tell him, Buck. I can’t tell him he’s never going to see you again.”
Buck strains, aching to scream I’m here! He’s going to see me! The effort makes the grayness spin and darken, everything growing farther away. He can’t feel the hand as solidly now, the beeping is dulled. He still fights because he doesn’t want to leave, not right now. He wants to hear what else this person’s going to say to him.
But he loses his battle, slipping back into the blackness. He doesn’t hear Eddie say, “How can I tell him he’s never going to see his father again?”
-
It feels more solid the next time Buck reaches the surface. He feels steadier, a little less like he’s floating. There’s a hand in his again. There’s the same beeping. The same scent hovering around him. But now he can feel the soft sheets beneath his other hand, the pillow supporting his head. He’s closer.
The voice comes again, and he can taste the name on his tongue. “It’s been a week. They- they don’t know if you’re going to wake up. They say the longer it takes, the less likely it is. I don’t- I don’t want to believe them, Buck. Th-they don’t know you. They don’t know that you are a fighter and that there’s no way in hell you’re going to leave your family, not like this. You- you’re not- you’re not gonna leave me, Buck. You’re not. You didn’t- you didn’t drag me out of that street two years ago just to- to die on me before I get the chance to tell you…”
Tell me what?! Buck wants to scream, but his body won’t obey him.
“No,” the voice says, as if they heard Buck. “No, I’ll tell you when you wake up. I’m not… I’m not saying this until you can say it back.” There’s a shifting nearby and then the hand squeezes his own and those same soft lips brush Buck’s forehead, pressing the softest of kisses into his skin. “Please come back so I can tell you. Please.”
There’s silence for a few moments as Buck struggles to no avail. Then, “Chris misses you.” A face flashes in Buck’s mind. Curly hair, like his. Blue eyes, just a few shades off from his own. Glasses. Big, goofy grin. For a beat, he thinks he’s seeing the child he could have had. Then- no, the name sinks in and no, this isn’t his kid. It’s just the one he wishes was his. “He’s been asking about you, if he can see you. I- I keep telling him no. You- you wouldn’t want him to see you like this, when you can’t respond. I know that. But.. it’s hard Buck,” he admits, his voice breaking, “it’s so hard. I don’t want the next time he sees you to be… to be at a funeral. I really, really need you to come back.”
It’s more painful than the crash itself when Buck realizes he can’t do what the voice is asking.
-
The third time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the hand in his is different. It’s smaller, more delicate. Softer, lacking the callouses. The voice is sweeter and less rough, sadder, when the person speaks.
“Hi Evan. I, um,” there’s a small laugh, “I’m never really sure if you can hear me. Eddie changes his mind every time he tries to talk to you. But- I just- I wanted you to know. I’ll tell you again, when you wake up.” A pause. “If you wake up, I guess. But it- it might bring you some peace, I think. I told them, Evan. Just like- like you asked me to. I told Eddie first and he said I could talk to Chris. I rephrased a bit cause you weren’t- you weren’t all that lucid, y’know? But I- I knew what you wanted and I did it, I think. I hope. They knew already, of course they did. But he still… Eddie wanted- wanted to hear the call, Evan. I know- I know you wouldn’t have wanted him to hear you like that but… He’s grieving. I couldn’t say no, couldn’t keep that from him.”
There’s a small, short, teary laugh and then a chin is propped on their joined hands. Similar to the first time he came to, a hand brushes over his forehead. The fingers are softer and nails lightly scratch over his skin. “I hope you’re not mad when you wake up. It’s gonna be a when, yeah Evan? They- they tell me I should get used to saying if. I don’t want to. I want to believe you’re fighting, that you’re gonna come back to me. To them.” A heavy sigh. “I love you, baby brother.”
-
The first voice is back, gruff and warm and spreading through Buck like the glow of sunlight.The first thing he hears is, “I listened to the call. I- I made Maddie let me, so if you’re gonna be pissed at someone when you wake up, be pissed at me. I just… I had to hear it.” A sad, bitter laugh. The voice turns wet with tears, thick with emotion. Something in Buck’s soul aches. “Y-you were- you were choking on your own blood, Buck. I could hear it, over the phone. And still apologizing. Begging to be forgiven. While you were drowning in your own blood, bleeding out in your car on your own. Begging- begging for me. And shit, I was just like ten minutes away, man. But I wasn’t- I wasn’t there.”
Buck’s hands are clasped between two of the rough, calloused ones. They squeeze his fingers and something wet splatters on his skin. Tears, he realizes dimly. The person is crying, breaths hitching as they struggle to talk. “You needed me, and I wasn’t there. I didn’t- I didn’t even know until Maddie called me. And by the time I got there… you looked dead, Evan. I thought you were dead. But they- they were loading you into the ambulance.” A wet laugh. “They tried to stop me. Tried to hold me back. Didn’t work very well. I think I gave Hernandez a black eye. You remember Hernandez, yeah? From the C shift. He finally recognized me and let me through. They barely let me ride in the ambulance with you, but I threatened to call Bobby and no one wanted to fight that bad. Plus… you were in really bad shape. There was no time to argue.”
The hands shift, one leaving his and landing on his cheek, cradling his face softly, fingertips barely brushing over skin. “I thought you might die on the ride. Then in surgery. Then after, when you didn’t wake up. I still- you still might. They’ve been telling us to say if a lot. If you recover fully. If you remember anything. If you wake up at all. Maddie’s been trying. The rest of the crew, too. I can’t- I can’t bring myself to. It feels… it feels like I’d be giving up on you. Because you are going to wake up. You’re gonna come back to me, yeah?” The fingers skim up his face, brushing through his hair.
“You just have to fight, cariño,” the voice whispers.
Buck doesn’t know how much fight he has left.
-
The next time Buck brushes with consciousness, the hand isn’t there. Buck panics, though he’s not sure why. He can feel more this time, the weight of his own body, a pricking sensation in his arm. The bed under him, the air on his skin. He’s so, so close.
There’s a soft breath beside him and then fingers are intertwining with his and Buck feels like he breathes for the first time in he doesn’t know how long.
“Hey Buck.” It’s the same voice, but this time when the name comes to him, Buck latches onto it like a lifeline, pulls it close to him and cradles it in his mind. Eddie. “I don’t even know if you’re hearing me. The doctors say it’s likely you can but… I dunno. I feel like- like if you could hear me, you’d come back. It’s stupid, yeah, I know. But- listen, Buck. If you can hear me, don’t- don’t even try to say anything, yeah? Just- just-” He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand. Please.” Eddie squeezes his hand as if to show him what he means. Then there’s a weight on his hip and he realizes it’s Eddie, resting his forehead against Buck’s body. “Please, Evan, just squeeze my hand.”
And Buck does.
-
It doesn’t happen how Buck thought it would. He doesn’t squeeze Eddie’s hand and open his eyes and everything’s fine. No, he squeezes Eddie’s hand and he hears Eddie shocked, “Buck?” and then the darkness swallows him immediately.
The hand is still in his when he comes to again. He tests his boundaries, asking his fingers to twitch. They do, and the hand squeezes back instantly.
“Buck?” Eddie’s voice is almost crystal clear now and Buck feels as if he might cry. But his eyes won’t open and his body still won’t obey him, not even his tear ducts. All he can do is squeeze the fingers in his. “Buck, it’s me, I’m right here.” Eddie sounds almost giddy with disbelief and Buck squeezes his hand again, elated to offer any semblance of relief and always desperate to make Eddie smile.
“He’s awake!” Eddie’s voice calls. Immediately, a door is opening and there's feet shuffling and voices filling the room. Buck can barely filter them and all he can think is no I’m not. If he was awake, his eyes would be open. His body would listen to him. A panic seizes him suddenly and he starts rapidly squeezing Eddie’s hand, frantic. He can’t live like this, not if he’s not going to get better. He would rather die.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Eddie gently shushes him, squeezing back and setting a hand on his face, stroking his skin softly. “It’s okay, alright? Doctor Hersen is gonna explain a little.”
“Firefighter Buckley, can you hear me?” A new, older, strict voice reaches Buck. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once.
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “Yeah, he can.”
The doctor makes a soft humming sound. “Can you do anything else? Open your eyes, control how long you’re conscious?” Buck doesn’t move. He can’t answer. “Let’s try this; one squeeze for yes, two for no until you recover a bit more, alright? Because you will continue to recover, Evan. You just have to be patient with yourself.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand once.
“He gets it.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
Two squeezes and Eddie relays the answer.
“Alright, that’s a potentially triggering subject to expose you to, so we’re going to refrain until you’re a bit more stable. Do you remember who you are?”
One squeeze.
“Do you-” That’s Eddie’s voice, cutting in. He clears his throat, fear creeping into his words. “D’you remember who I am?”
One squeeze and Eddie lets out a long, relieved breath. Immediately, half a dozen voices start up again. Buck can’t isolate them, can’t understand them all. Panic starts seizing him again and he’s powerless to do anything but move his left hand, so he starts shaking. His hand, then his whole body is trembling.
“Stop talking!” Eddie orders immediately, resuming the soothing stroking of Buck’s skin. “Everyone- everyone has to get out, it’s freaking him out.”
The clamoring doesn’t stop and Buck searches for the darkness this time, yearning for the peace. It takes him in willingly and he manages one last weak squeeze of Eddie’s hand before he drifts off.
-
The squeezing lasts what feels like maybe a day to Buck. They ask him lots of questions. Some he understands and can answer. Some he understands but can’t answer. Some are just a blur. Memories start coming back, bits and flashes. Getting the call, though he can’t determine who it was he was talking to. The car slamming into him. Calling 911. Talking to Maddie. The 911 call is the most frustrating to remember. He knows he asked for Maddie. He recalls begging her to tell Eddie he was sorry, that he loved them all. But that’s- that’s it. From the sound of it, it was worse than he remembers. It’s probably a good thing. All of it- it’s all just a jumbled mess, but he’s slowly piecing it together, fragment by fragment.
And then one time, he comes back to the surface and he feels Eddie’s hand in his and he smells Eddie’s body wash and he turns his head and he opens his eyes and there he is. Eddie. By his bed, as he has been for god knows how long. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair messy and several days of stubble shadowing his jaw. He’s never looked more beautiful. His eyes are closed, like he might be asleep.
Buck squeezes his hand and tries to say something, but all that comes out is a hollow croak, somewhere between a moan and a wheeze. Eddie’s eyes fly open and tears well immediately.
“Buck.” It comes out choked, heavy with shock and disbelief, squeezing his hand so hard it hurts and reaching a hand toward his face. He stops just short of touching Buck’s skin, but Buck gives him a short, jerky nod and Eddie’s hand lands on the side of his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek and wiping away the tear that has already fallen as Eddie pitches forward, burying his face in the crook of Buck’s neck and holding onto him for dear life. His tears wet the skin of Buck’s neck, but he couldn’t care less as he grips Eddie’s hand back like a vice.
He tries to speak again, to ask for something to drink, but only lets out another croak. Eddie jerks back instantly. “Water,” he says, nodding. “Water, water, yeah of course.” Something bursts in Buck’s chest at Eddie’s immediate understanding of what Buck needs. The hand leaves his face but he can’t mourn the loss, because Eddie grabs a cup and brings it to Buck’s lips and the water trickles into his mouth and down his parched throat and Buck lurches forward, forcing Eddie to tilt the cup forward and let him drink it all in one go.
When the cup is drained, Eddie pulls it away and then simply waits, his eyes searching Buck’s face. Buck breathes for a moment, then lets the corner of his mouth turn up.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is hoarse from unuse, but Eddie looks at him like it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
“Hey,” he chokes out around his tears. “Th-the others will wanna know-”
“In a minute,” Buck cuts in. “Just…” he brushes his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “In a minute…”
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see your eyes again,” Eddie says after a beat. “It sounds strange but-”
“It doesn’t,” Buck promises, looking at Eddie again, feeling his lips form a wide smile. “Not to me.”
Eddie just swallows hard and nods, shifting to clasp Buck’s hand between his.
“I heard you,” Buck tells him. “Not- not all the time, I don’t think. But… I heard you.”
Tears threaten to spill past Eddie’s lashes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You- you had something to tell me? Once I was awake, you said.”
A look of surprise crosses Eddie’s face and he blinks once, twice. Then he opens his mouth and-
The door opens. A tall man in a white coat steps inside as Eddie turns to look. The man spots Buck and his eyes widen in surprise.
“He’s awake.” That’s the third voice Buck heard, the doctor. He steps forward in three swift steps, holding out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Buckley, I’m Doctor-”
“Buck is fine,” Buck interrupts, smiling but making no move to let go of Eddie’s hand and shake the man’s.
Buck is fine. The words echo in his ears and he feels his brows draw together. Buck is fine. And then it all comes rushing back. The call, the test results, the crash. Doctor Offley telling him any children he has may be at risk for leukemia. The icy, electric realization that the one life he was brought into this world to save is also the very reason he cannot ever bring another life into it.
A shock runs through Buck and whatever the doctor is saying now is lost to him as his ears start ringing and the world starts spinning. He can’t do this, he can’t- he- he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to recover from this, why he should recover from this-
“Buck,” Edide’s voice cuts through the panic, his hands squeezing Buck’s tightly. “Buck what’s going on?”
“I- I can’t-” He can’t breathe.
Distantly, he hears Eddie say. “Doctor, could you…?” And then, “Okay, Buck it’s just you and me. Breathe, c’mon, breathe with me, bud. Deep breaths, okay? In… out… in…” he continues for several breaths until Buck feels somewhat more grounded and looks at Eddie again.
“Sorry,” he stammers out. “I- I’m sorry.”
Eddie shakes his head, shushing him. “Nothing to apologize for, Evan. You can let yourself not be okay for a while. You- you almost died.” His voice cracks. “You could have died.”
Buck lets out a soft, dry snort, dropping his head back. “Yeah. What a shame that would’ve been.”
Eddie doesn’t even know how to reply to that. The words stick in his throat, held back by the sudden, icy fear clawing up his neck. He’s known something’s been wrong with Buck for a while. But maybe- maybe it’s way worse than what Eddie ever imagined.
“Wh- what- how could you even say that, Buck?”
Tears well in Buck’s eyes, making his vision swim as he stares straight ahead at the ceiling. “I’m broken, Eddie. They should- I should fuckin’ donate my body to science so they can figure out what made me defective. Cause there- there’s something broken in me. It’s- it’s why I couldn’t save Daniel. Why any child I have will suffer the same fate he did.”
“Buck, what are you talking about?” Eddie begs, lost beyond belief. Buck lets out a long sigh. This definitely isn't how he planned on telling him.
“I agreed to be a sperm donor,” he says. “For my friend, Conner, and his wife. They- they want to have a kid and they can’t so- so they asked me and I- I agreed.” The tears spill over, dripping down his face.
“Buck,” Eddie breathes, and he sounds so sad it shatters something deep in Buck’s chest. His breath hitches with a barely contained sob. “Why? Why would you- why would you agree to that? You could never be-”
“A father,” Buck finishes. Eddie shakes his head.
“A father who walks away. A parent who doesn’t know his child.” Of course Eddie cuts right to the core of it in less than a minute, slices Buck open and reveals the very thing that has been tormenting him since he said yes.
“It’s the only chance I was gonna get,” Buck whispers, too tired to even try and lie.
“Buck, what do you even- how can you think that?”
“Because it’s true.”
Eddie just shakes his head. He’ll deal with that in a minute. But for now… “Why wouldn’t you tell me? You’ve been struggling with this for- who knows how long-”
“Almost three weeks before the accident,” Buck offers.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Buck hesitates for a long moment, but the answer comes out of its own volition. “I didn’t… I couldn’t handle disappointing you.”
“Buck,” Eddie whispers, and he sounds absolutely heartbroken by Buck’s confession. Buck forces himself to look at him, at the tears turning Eddie’s eyes into shining crystals. “Sweetheart, you could never disappoint me, okay? If you- if you really wanted this, I’d have supported it.” Even as the term of endearment causes a burst of warmth in his chest, Buck’s gaze flicks away and Eddie frowns slightly. “That wasn’t the problem, was it?” He can’t answer. “You were afraid I would see how much this is breaking you, that I would help you not do it.”
“I had to,” Buck chokes out. “I had to do it.”
“Because it’s your only chance to have a child?”
Buck nods.
“Bullshit.” It comes out a growl, tinged with anger. “Bull shit, Buck. For the love of- you already have a child, Evan.” Buck’s eyes snap to him, his expression struggling between shock, confusion, and hope. Eddie sets his hand back on the side of Buck’s face. He lets out a teary laugh, shaking his head and looking at Buck with pure adoration in his eyes. “What the fuck did you think my making you Chris’s legal guardian was?”
Buck just stares at him for several breaths until he realizes Eddie expects an actual answer. “That I’m- that I’m a backup?” he offers weakly. Eddie just shakes his head again, tears dripping down his cheeks even as a wide smile splits his face.
“You’re an idiot, sometimes.” Buck blinks, taken aback. “Evan Buckley, you have been a second father to that kid since the very moment you met him. Even you can’t possibly have missed that.”
“I thought- I just thought-”
“He tells people at school he has two dads, Buck. He has since we built him that skateboard and he went into class the next day and proclaimed that ‘his dads made him a skateboard’ and I got a very confused call from a very frazzled Ana.” And Buck’s crying, but he can’t help but laugh at the image. “You’re his dad, Buck.”
“But you-”
“Yeah, I’m his father. I’m all he had for a while. We were doing alright. But there was always… there was always something missing.” His fingers card through the hair on the side of Buck’s head. “You. You were missing. You came barrelling into our lives and you filled the hole we had been convincing ourselves didn’t exist. It was you, Buck. You make our family whole. You’re everything we ever needed, everything I ever wanted.”
Buck starts. “Everything- everything you wanted?”
Eddie grins. “Ask me what I had to tell you.”
“Eddie, what-”
“Ask me.”
Buck takes in a shaky breath, neither of them breaking their locked gaze. “What were you gonna tell me when I woke up, Eddie?”
“That I am completely and madly and foolishly and embarrassingly and entirely head over heels in love with you, Evan Buckley.”
The breath catches in Buck’s throat and there are tears welling in his eyes again and this doesn’t even feel real. He lets out a short, disbelieving, shocked laugh. “You love me?” It comes out as a whisper, as if he fears if he were any louder, it would shatter the spell.
“Wholly and completely, Buck.” Buck just stares at him, face breaking into a wide grin. “You got a response or…?”
“I think you should kiss me,” Buck says. “I think you should kiss me right now.”
And, well, Eddie really didn’t need to be told the second time. He’s gentle, careful, cradling Buck’s jaw in his hand and kissing him slowly, softly. He’s mindful of Buck’s bruises even as their fingers twist together and his fingertips press into Buck’s jaw, tilting his head to get just the right angle and it’s so fucking perfect Buck could cry. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more. If only he’d known…
Eddie pulls back after what feels like an eternity, searching Buck’s eyes. “What are you thinking right now?”
“That if I knew getting hit by a car was all it took to get you to kiss me, I’d have done that years ago,” Buck replies. Eddie lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as Buck grins. Buck takes his free hand and tilts Eddie’s face back towards his, fingertips under his jaw. “And that I love you more than I thought was humanly possible. That our family is everything I’ve ever wanted and more, that it was something I didn’t think I’d ever get.”
Eddie leans forward, resting his forehead against Buck’s. His lips brush Buck’s nose. “I think you’ve had it a lot longer than you know.”
“I think you’re right,” Buck breathes. “And all it took to realize that was a week-long coma.”
