Teen and Up Audiences | 2k | Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz
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Five times Eddie yells for Buck and one time he whispers
or:
Eddie flashes back to the events of the night before while sitting in the hospital chapel. Bobby finds him there after awhile and the two have an important discussion about handling their new circumstance and what it means for them individually
5 times Eddie yells
Buck!
He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that Buck was already dead, that yelling wouldn’t do any good. The first shout cracked open something in his chest, spilling poison into his veins. It didn’t matter that he was injured too- he was moving. Buck wasn’t. Buck wasn’t moving .
His world narrowed to one pinpoint- Buck hanging midair, not moving, not calling back to him. Nothing. Helpless, vulnerable. Bile rose in Eddie’s throat but he ignored it, starting to scramble up the ladder on shaking legs, gripping the sides with trembling hands as he tried to force himself to breathe.
It didn’t matter that he was essentially climbing up a lightning rod in the middle of the storm. Let lightning strike twice, he thought, let it take him out too. Just let him reach Buck first.
Buck!
He went up the ladder as quickly as he could manage, shouting, begging for any sign that Buck could hear him. He had lost his breath, he could barely manage the one word shout. I’m coming, it said, I’m coming for you, I swear.
His gaze didn’t stray even for a moment, desperate for any sign of life from the limp form of his best friend. His partner. His coparent. Chris’s second father. One of the two people in this world Eddie doesn’t think he can ever possibly live without.
Buck!
He was almost there, so close. Hang on, please, I’m almost there. I’m going to get you to safety. There was no response, still, as his voice broke and the plea tore its way from his throat, burning as it left and leaving an empty space inside him that was growing by the moment. Desperation clawed at his chest, tearing at his throat, flooding his veins with a burning chill that was worse than being hit by lightning.
Buck!
He was at the top now, looking over the edge at the lifeless body below him. He could see his face- barely. His expression was slack, not even a twitch. Nothing. He looked-
No. No, he’s not dead, he cannot be dead. Eddie shook his head, his breaths gasping pants now as he grabbed the line, yanking on it with everything he had. It wasn’t logical- he knows that, now- but at the time all he could think was in my arms, I need him in my arms. I need him to know I have him .
A sob ripped itself from him as he failed to pull his partner up, defeat beginning to cloud his brain, panic clawing at his throat, tears threatening to choke him.
Can you hear me?!
Buck!
A desperate plea, begging for any sign of life- anything to hold onto aside from the red line connecting him to the person that dragged him to safety when he was convinced he was drawing his last breath, who he reached for with the last of his strength, who saved his and his sons lives in more ways than Eddie can ever define.
Eddie has experienced the worst of what he thought the world had to throw at him. But this- this is the worst pain he has ever felt.
Need more slack!
He finally gave in, accepting that if he couldn’t pull Buck to himself, he could deliver him to the only other people he could ever trust with his life. He felt the distance between them as a physical force as it grew, the invisible tether that has always connected them straining as the red line grew longer, taking Buck further and further from Eddie.
He was choking on it, he couldn’t yell anymore. The further Buck got, the less he could breathe. Panic clouded his brain, blocking out anything that was not Buck’s lifeless form that kept getting smaller and smaller.
Buck! Buck, talk to me! Please, c’mon, come on Buck!
He doesn’t remember getting down the ladder. He doesn’t remember running toward the ambulance. The next thing he knew, he was shoving Bobby- shoving his Captain- aside, desperate to lay eyes on Buck. To see his chest rise and fall, to watch the breaths leave his mouth, to feel his pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips.
Bobby didn’t let him, holding him back and shoving him away. Eddie didn’t hear anything he said other than you’re driving! And Eddie- Eddie could do that. He could drive, he could get Buck to the hospital in time. Three minutes. That’s what Bobby said.
Eddie pulled into the hospital two minutes later, slamming the ambulance into gear and leaping from the car. He bolted around to the back, reaching the doors just in time for them to be taking Buck on. He knows he shoved someone- he doesn’t remember who- but it didn’t matter because he was on top of Buck, beginning compressions.
If Buck’s heart wasn’t going to beat on its own, Eddie would do it for him.
Then he was being pulled off, and voices were shouting, and it all became a blur. Bobby yanked him away as a nurse swore they would do all they could.
Not enough! Eddie wanted to shout, All you can isn’t enough unless you save him!
But his voice was raw and his throat burned and the words refused to come out as Bobby directed him away.
The last several hours have been a blur.
Eddie’s in the hospital’s chapel now.
He doesn’t remember coming here.
He doesn’t know why he’s here.
He hasn’t prayed in a long, long time. He decided- he’s not totally sure when- that if there was a God, He had nothing to offer Eddie but false hope and empty promises. He decided he would no longer beg someone who wasn’t listening for help, that he would never beg for help again. Not when he can help himself.
But he can’t help Buck.
So he’s here. His St. Christopher medal is clenched tightly in his fist, tears burn his eyes. His cheeks are wet and his throat is so raw from screaming and sobbing that even breathing hurts. He stares at his hand, at the St. Christopher medal resting in it. He doesn’t look up at the altar. He can’t.
He doesn’t think he wants to pray. He doesn’t know. He needs- he needs to do something. But praying now… it feels false, like a ploy to convince himself he’s somehow helping. But is faith really faith if it’s only for the security of knowing you’ve tried everything?
It all replays in his head, the shouts echoing in his mind on a continuous loop. If he closes his eyes, all he sees is Buck’s body- his corpse hanging from the line that Eddie clipped him to. The ladder Eddie let him go up. The rain falling all around them, beating down on Buck’s pale face. The flashing lights all around them. Everything a blur aside from the sharp focus on Buck.
He’s already thrown up at least once since they took Buck away, but nausea still twists in his stomach, acid rising in his throat. Clenching his jaw tightly, he closes his fist around the pendant, the edges biting into his skin. Saint of travelers, protective against sudden death. He and Chris were going to give Buck one for his next birthday. Eddie welcomes the pain, squeezing tighter as he clenches his jaw, silent tears dripping down his cheeks.
“You saved his life, Eddie.”
Eddie starts at the voice, jerking his head around just in time to see Bobby slide into the pew next to him. He looks like a wreck, his face exhausted and eyes bloodshot. Bobby doesn’t often look old, but right now he seems weighed down by his years, the lines in his face sharp and heavy. This is killing him, just as it’s killing Eddie.
“I failed him,” Eddie bites out, looking away again. “I fucking- he died, Bobby. I didn’t fucking save him.”
“His heart is beating now.”
“But he may never open his eyes again,” Eddie chokes out, tears flowing faster now as he lifts his fist to his forehead, hitting it lightly over and over. “He might never wake up.”
Bobby’s fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist, pulling his fist away gently. Eddie starts to fight, but finds he doesn’t even have the energy to do that.
“You got to him in time, Eddie. That line saved him, gave him the chance he has now.”
“It should have been me.”
Bobby is silent for a moment and Eddie turns to look at him. He sighs deeply, then meets Eddie’s gaze. “That’s what Buck said. When you were shot. And before that, with the well. He begged me to let him go down after you when you cut your line.”
The breath is punched from Eddie’s lungs, escaping him in a sharp breath. “He-?”
“I told him no.” Bobby looks towards the altar. “I told him we didn’t need two cut lines. He was desperate, Eddie. We all- we thought you were dead. But we couldn’t tell him, not then. He was infuriated we would even imply you might not still be down there. You all think he’s dead. That’s what he said to me, when I told him we couldn’t dig our way to you. He looked- God, Eddie, he looked so betrayed that we might have lost even a bit of faith in finding you.”
“He never-” Eddie’s breathless, his head spinning. “He never- no one ever told me-”
“You found your way back to us, Eddie. To him. Now you have to trust he’s going to do the same.”
Eddie hasn’t stopped crying and a fresh wave of tears burns as they track down his face. His voice is small, broken, when he begs, “And what if he doesn’t?”
Bobby’s jaw ticks and his expression cracks and Eddie realizes how fucking unfair this is. Bobby has already lost two children, he can’t lose another. Eddie should be comforting him, not the other way around.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“No,” Bobby cuts him off, raising a hand. “No, we aren’t doing that. Not now, not yet. We have to believe. I’m going to pray. And you…” Bobby looks at him and his expression softens. “You should go to him, Eddie. You need to. You and Chris, if you think he’ll be up for it.”
“Buck would never want Chris to see him like this,” Eddie whispers, the thought shattering his heart.
“He needs to hear you, feel you. Both of you.” Bobby smiles a small, sad smile. “He needs to remember why he has to fight.”
Eddie draws in a sharp, shaky breath and nods. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Bobby turns his gaze back to the altar, his breath trembling as he inhales slowly. “I’m going to try. That’s all any of us can do right now, and we have to. For Buck.”
Eddie nods again, firmer this time. “For Buck.”
+1 time he whispers
Eddie settles into the chair beside Buck’s bed shakily, his hands trembling as he studies Buck’s face. This is… it’s all wrong. The tube breathing for him. The slack expression on his face. The hospital gown. The beeping machines. All of it. It’s wrong.
Usually, Buck looks peaceful when he sleeps. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite things, strange as that sounds. Watching the lines and anxiety disappear, fading into a sweet innocence and openness that Eddie can’t believe he’s allowed to witness.
Shakily, Eddie takes Buck’s hand between both of his, pressing the St. Christopher pendant into his palm and squeezing lightly. He lifts one hand to Buck’s forehead, gently brushing aside the loose curls. They’re free of gel right now, washed away by the rain. Eddie loves Buck’s natural hair, but right now all it does is send a sharp lance of pain through Eddie’s chest. He clasps Buck’s hand with both of his again, lowering his head to press his forehead against their joined hands.
“Please,” he whispers. “ Buck, please come back to me.”
Buck went up instead of Chimney. Chim wanted to go up and now, with what happened, how is he going to feel?
The guilt, the what ifs. The remembering Kevin suddenly gone in a flash in front of him, Albert nearly doing the same and now Buck. Buck who is his brother through the 118 AND through Maddie.
Chimney not being able to look Maddie in the eyes. They've both lost brothers, they've lost too much and now. And now Buck.
God, the wait til next Monday is gonna be painful.
