#buddie angst

[lordkuntfuck]

Buck and Eddie get into an accident (perhaps on their roadtrip home) and Eddie gets badly injured. And like Buck does gets hurt too, but no where near as bad, so while Eddie is in the hospital Buck has to be the one to tell Chris. And it's just bringing back up all the memories of the shooting. Except this time it's worse cuz Eddie is an even more critical condition (maybe he's the one in a coma this time).

So Buck tells Chris, and he's expecting him to be upset obviously but he's always been so brave about these things in the past, so Buck doesn't think it'll be any more difficult than one would generally expect. Except, Chris has just been going through it this past year already, everything that happened with him running away to Texas, and then Bobby died, then Abuela, now possibly his dad.

And it's just a fucking breaking point for him and he flips the fuck out. He starts crying but he doesn't even notice it cuz he's too busy shouting and screaming at Buck. And he doesn't even know what he's saying he's just so fucking scared and he's had enough of trying to act like he's okay cuz he really really isn't.

Buck let's him shout at him, let's him hit him, it really fucking hurts, even tho he's just a kid, cuz he is still somewhat injured. It doesn't hurt more than Chris's words though. It's fucking heart breaking and Buck doesn't know what to do to make it better.

The cherry on top of the pile of dog shit is Chris saying he wishes it was Buck who was at risk of dying instead.

Now obviously he doesn't mean it, he just wanted someone else to hurt as much he was. And later when he's calmed down, Chris massively regrets it because of course Buck was already hurting as much as he was. He lost Bobby and Abuela too. He cares about Eddie as much as Chris does. He was hurting and Chris made it worse instead of hurting with him, like Buck was trying to do. He also knows he would've reacted just as bad if it had been Buck in the hospital so it was stupid to say anyway, and so of course he does eventually apologise profusely.

(Oh and Buck never tells Eddie about any of it)

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

“It wasn’t really mine. I was subletting.”

Buck is moving on. Eddie is losing Buck and he doesn’t even know it. (Rubs my grubby little hands together.)

The angst is gonna be so good in S9.

Eddie’s gonna lose his shit when Buck starts acting like his best friend and only his best friend. It’s gonna push Eddie to name the love between them or lose him. Eddie’s going to finally choose Buck with a love confession and the mid-season cliffhanger will be if Buck chooses him or if It’s too late.

[mid-knight-black]

“you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye…

…and I got that red lip classic thing that you like”

[ilyas-bittersweet-tragedy]

{But you know that you're needing it, And you know that you need it bad}

Prefer to read on A03?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/73014256

Eventual Pairing; Eddie Diaz x Evan Buckley

Summary -

''What are the facts here, Buck? Tell me them! Because you should know that none of this, absolutely none of the fucked up shit you tell yourself is true. Not even the slightest bit,''

''It's facts that you want?''

''You know I do,''

''Fine, Eds. Here they are, we both know I should be in that coffin six-feet under instead of Bobby,'' ''You didn't..'' Didn't what? Didn't just say that? No, Eddie couldn't ask that because he knows too well that Buck had said it. ''I need you to repeat that. And I need for you not to mean it. So, please, what did you just say, Buck?'' Eddie swallows. He wants to weep, to cry. Cry until there's nothing left. His eyes burn, but he has nothing else to give. He's broken from his spiraling thoughts finding that Buck still hasn't responded. ''No,'' Eddie bleats. ''No, you can't - you cannot say something like that, Buck, don't..'' ''It should've been me, Eddie. It always should've been me instead of Bobby,'' Buck insists, eyes squeezed shut. Willing the fresh gleam of tears to not cascade down the blonde's cheeks. ''And I'd reverse our roles instantly, I'd be the one in that coffin if it wasn't already nailed shut,''

Warnings - Eventual suicide ideation, eventual talks of past child abuse, self-worth issues, abandonment issues, & child neglect.

Author's Note - [Will have some spoilers for episodes 8x15 & 8x17] Not proofread as of right now, this is also my first time posting on here, so please excuse any formatting errors or anything while I get used to posting on Tumblr more.

{But you know that you're needing it,  And you know that you need it bad} {Prologue}

Buck knows he's one to get ahead of himself. So let him preface this by saying that that's not what he's trying to do this time. Now, that being said, not to jump the gun by getting too garrulous or anything, but he'd just like to be the one to speak on his own behalf and put it out there that Evan Buckley’s life is in ruins, that much is unquestionable to him. Expressing that isn't startling to him, it's not something he'd just accepted - his life is in ruins, and it has been left that way since it'd been razed that day in the biolab explosion. 

He knows that it likely sounds dramatic, sounds like Buck's just doing what he's been told he does best, which is dramatizing and overplaying things, but this isn't a case of that. He'd know if it was and even if it were, it wouldn't change much - wouldn't change much at all, Buck’s life would still be the same mess that it currently is. He'd still be catastrophizing over it because doing so is kind of his brand, so he’s rolling with it. 

Catastrophizing for him is right on brand, and for all that, Buck's life is still in ruins, anyone can see. And while that statement and how his life has gotten to such a point may be an answerable one, it'd also bring questions as to why his life is in tatters if he'd spoken it aloud. So to put it simply, If one were to ask for the crux of the matter, it'd easily be that Robert Nash is dead, Bobby is permanently deceased. Needless to say, there's nothing that can be done about that. Not anymore. And unfortunately, Buck knows that, he might not accept it, but he knows it's true. 

And that alone destroys him in unimaginable ways. 

How could it not be destroying him when Bobby's death isn't like his had been? Bobby's demise isn't like the lightning strike; Bobby's death isn't one in the same with his, it's everlasting in a way his had never been. Unlike his, there's no three minutes and seventeen seconds about it when it comes to Bobby. It's too late to start thinking of the what if’s now; too late for Buck to think of all of the decisions he could've made. The decisions that might have been what it’d take to save Bobby. 

What's done is done, it's too late for anything else. It's too late for anyone to do anything else, too late to save Bobby, and now, his mentor, his pseudo-dad is dead, leaving him behind in a world he isn't sure he has earned a place in. And sometimes there's this notion in the back of his mind, that even with herculean effort, Buck cannot push past, that speaks to him. It apprises him so maliciously, its voice in his mind malevolently whispering to him, telling him it should've been him. Him not Bobby. 

It's not something he can disagree with, in point of fact, he knows Bobby would give him the upbraiding of his life if the man had ever heard him agree with thoughts as abominable as those. Buck also just doesn't care, he could take being chastised by the elder man if it meant that Bobby would be here, with him, beside him. Not having that guidance, that comfort that is Bobby Nash though? Well, without that, Buck thinks he might've been better off where Bobby is. 

But you know beyond that, beyond the thoughts, beyond Bobby not being here, Buck’s alright, he's doing fine. Just fine. Bobby is gone and.. Buck's fine about that, really.. and Buck's not okay, but he will be fine, yeah, that sounds like what he's supposed to say in this.

Right? That's what he's supposed to say, is it not? Isn't that what his role in all of this is supposed to be? Playing the part, being sane and stable, being okay? 

He thinks so, yeah. It seems right, so it's what he does. 

He's fine in all the ways he can be fine. He'll miss and yearn for his captain constantly. He'll grieve and there's an Insurmountable chance that he'll never stop mourning. But he's.. he's fine. 

Wait, no, even that'd be incorrect, actually, given that it's a lie. He'd lied, entirely. He isn't fine, Bobby's dead and Buck isn't fine, won't be fine. 

Not ever. 

Buck's never going to be the kind of fine again where he doesn't have to fake it. He knows it to be true, even if others don't seem to agree, Buck just knows. After the ordeal of losing Bobby, Tommy had been a tad insensitive. Had ended up confused over how hard Buck was taking this, and ended up saying something along the lines of him still having a father. But Buck didn't, not anymore. Philip Buckley wasn't a father - wasn't his father, Bobby had been. He doesn't think Tommy had tried to be insensitive on that, just didn't have an understanding of him, didn't know him. 

He thinks Tommy never knew him to begin with. 

Tommy didn't know him, so why would the older man understand him now? Tommy wouldn't. But Maddie, at the least, tries and understands. His sister’s different. It's not that she's insensitive, she doesn't say anything like Tommy had. After the biolab, Maddie does her best to be there, to understand. But it's near impossible when some part of Buck won't let his sister be there. As much as he loves Maddie, Buck hasn't been responding to most of the messages she's been sending, too ashamed by the manner he'd spoken to Maddie while he'd been at the biolab, trying to save Bobby. Even now, he hasn't been able to bring himself to open up much to her. She tries, tries to understand him. But Maddie and Buck? They are at an impasse when it comes to losing Bobby; she views it as him losing a friend, a boss. Not as him losing a father. 

And Buck doesn't have the energy to explain all that he'd really lost, to anyone. No one understands the way he needs them to. 

That probably isn't entirely true either, he knows there'd be a crowd of people behind him trying to understand the way he's feeling if he'd let them. But Buck doesn't care. And the question is, what's it matter what the veracity of what Buck’s saying is? It's already an unalloyed truth that Evan Buckley hasn't been truthful to himself, hasn't been to anyone. He hasn't admitted to a lot lately. There's a horde of things that've been running in his mind lately, thoughts that're there that he should be disclosing lately that he just doesn't, not to himself or anyone. 

Partially because he hasn't been entirely truthful on how he's been doing, because not even he knows how to give an answer to that. 

He doesn't know, doesn't know whether or not he's as fine as he says he is. He's really begging to hate that word, hates how often he uses it. But then again, maybe he doesn't hate it as much as he says he does. Maybe he can't hate it considering the mundane answer has to suffice because Buck isn't capable of coming up with another one. 

He doesn't care what that insinuates about how he's really doing; that even coming up with another adjective to describe how he's holding up is even too exhausting for him. Doesn't care that it'd be easier and kinder on himself to just come clean, admit that he's not okay.

He knows that If there's one individual thing Buck will choose on admitting, it's that losing Bobby had been devastating, obviously, and that devastation is something that’s not applicable for just him to feel either. It's applicable for everyone to be undergoing. 

It's not anything astounding that everyone's bent out of shape over it, honestly. It was expected for everyone to be struggling, to be ravaged with heartache, really, he knew. Ultimately, how could it not be normal? 

Buck would never know. He could never know because to him, heartache had become the new normal; heartache and devastation had been two of the foremost emotions he'd been met with. He thinks, even in the fullness of time, that it'll be all he's feeling. 

To experience a loss such as Bobby had made everything, every little hardship he'd gone through up until this point, pale in comparison. But this wasn't just about him, it didn't matter that Bobby's passing hit more than a ladder truck that'd once had him pinned, bleeding, helpless. 

Because everyone’s hearts were bleeding from this, not just his, It was devastating, that is. It'd most definitely proved to be a ruinous event for all of them. Athena especially. Athena and the whole team, himself included, know the bereavement of losing Bobby isn't something that just goes away. They feel as such, their captain's gone and god, don't they feel it? They all incessantly feel Robert Nash’s absence all of the time. In actual fact, as far as the 118’s standpoint goes, they're never without the feeling Bobby's absence brings them. 

That absence that they left with is like a sinkhole, only getting worse each day. Bobby's passing isn't something that can be disregarded; if anything, it's something they feel when waking up in the morning and just knowing that their captain won't be there at the station. It's something they feel without Bobby's cooking, something they feel without the cookouts. 

It's all just gone now. 

And it's not about him, not about Buck. But even so, Buck doesn't know what to do with that sinkhole - that cavity that's eroding in his chest with Bobby being gone. Doesn't know what to do with that, doesn't know how to shed the feeling Bobby's death leaves him with, but also doesn't know how to stew, nor live with it. 

Because when he reflects on it, he doesn't know he will. Losing the captain wasn't yet something Buck knows how to handle. Bobby had always told them that it was a possibility, prepared them for it, it never made it easier. For him, It goes something like this - Bobby is gone, yet the world around them continues - blind to their turmoil. All and sundry goes on, like it'd never happened, like he hadn't just lost a priceless person to him. 

And maybe that's selfish, unbelievably selfish of him to expect the world to suddenly shift, to act differently for him all because Buck had lost someone dear to him. He doesn't care, for once he doesn't care what being selfish means. He only wishes being selfish would change things. 

But it won't bring Bobby back. 

Truth was, Buck had lost Bobby, they all had. And that changes everything to him. And it changes all but nothing to everyone else, to everyone outside of the 118. Gibingly the earth continues on its orbit, never kind enough to stop, to pause, no matter how much Buck wishes it would. 

And you know, it's a strange one to be perennially feeling, it is. The mere concept that someone so important to you could be gone like that in the blink of an eye, it's strange to be left mourning someone you'd never been ready to lose. That's not the strangest part though, not exactly, not when Evan Buckley has always known that when the time would come, he wouldn't be ready to give up on Bobby. That he wouldn't be ready for Bobby's life to die out and he hadn't been. 

Bobby's death didn't feel real to him, and maybe that was just chimeric thinking on his part. Maybe that was just him wanting to hold out and hope that the universe hasn't just taken a loved one from him. 

Even if it was chimeric thinking, it didn't change the fact that most days since losing Bobby, it feels like he'd been thrown into an out of body experience, one that's so similar to his coma dream. And admit it all, Buck wishes that's all this was, was another god-awful dream that was bordering the line of being too real. Buck wishes that's all this was, wishes that all he had to worry about was feeling like a fool for not being able to differentiate what's real and what's not. 

But it's not a screwed up dream he's conjured up, not this time, he knows. Even though Buck may have limited memories of it all, of losing Bobby. Too caught up in shock and disbelief at the fact that this was it, this was the point he'd been fearing all along, this was the point where Buck was going to lose Bobby to. The point where his captain would be leaving him. 

And leave Bobby did, he knows the man's gone, that it's real this time. That concept had really been sealed the second Bobby had been uttering goodbyes to him that Buck couldn't process; it'd been concreted the moment Bobby had insisted Buck evacuate the premises so that Bobby could spend those last moments with Athena. Buck had screamed his vocal cords raw until his voice has nothing left to give, he'd screamed and screamed until his sobs had crescendoed into pitiable little gasps. 

It just hasn't yet set in that there's no going back, that there's no do-overs on saving his captain. Bobby is just gone. 

He doesn't know what to make of that. Buck's latest and most startling epiphany is finding out that he doesn't feel normal anymore, doesn't feel like himself as much as he tries to. But Buck thinks, It's been awhile since he has. Frankly, that's the thing, he doesn't even remember the last time that he had felt that way or what normal is supposed to feel to him. And realistically, Buck knows that in itself isn't conventional for anyone. 

Buck knows something's wrong with him. 

He thinks something’s been wrong for a while now, and Buck himself can’t even figure out what it is that's going on with him. At first, he doesn’t even really notice that anything's off with him, not until Eddie’s series of comments on it. He tells himself, along with Eddie, that he's fine; he does it as much as Eddie needs to hear it to back off. Eddie never does and it gets less convincing to himself every single time he has to say it. 

But it's okay. He never stops the flimsy excuses, never stops saying he's fine all while internally telling himself that he has no right to be thinking of himself or even being asked about how he's doing when Bobby's in the ground. When Robert Nash isn't here to be asked about how Bobby’s doing. 

Buck’ll never get the right to ask again. And it's a startling fact that he hadn't even thought of while he'd been too mired down beneath the weight of his own messy grief. But he thinks it now, thinks of how he'll never be able to ask Bobby about how the man's day was going, of how his cooking sessions with Bobby will just cease to be, of how Bobby will just cease to be anything more than a memory that tapers in and out of people's minds. Buck doesn't want to forget, never wants to forget the pat of his captain's heavy hand on his shoulder, doesn't want to forget the elder’s voice, the man's steady guidance. 

The thought of even forgetting of anything that has to do with Bobby for even a second is staggering to Buck. 

Buck doesn't want to forget, but there also lies the question of when does holding on too tightly breach the lines of being too much? Is Buck holding on simply because he's loved and cared for Bobby throughout it all like a father? Or is part of him obsessing over Bobby’s memory because of what he had not done, because he couldn't save his captain? Buck doesn't know. 

And that's a problem. 

Avowedly Buck isn't fine, not even close. How could he be, how could anyone be, when Bobby Nash’s final, conclusive words to them had been ‘I love you, kid,’ and that, ‘They’re going to need you?’ 

No. They didn't. His team didn't need him, they needed Bobby, Bobby Nash. O’ Captain! My Captain, that's who they needed. Bobby, and nobody but Robert Nash. 

At the biolab, Bobby had poured everything that was left in the man out, so Buck could have something to stick with him. Had said that Buck was loved by the man, and that even after Bobby he'd be needed. And Buck? Buck had been a fucking asshole, rendered into a useless pile of goop from his own shock. Bobby had been literally dying as the seconds ticked by and Buck hadn't done anything to make the journey any easier. He hadn't moved, he hadn't said anything back, Buck hadn't fucking said anything back - anything would've been better than saying nothing. But he'd already screamed himself hoarse beforehand in trying to change Bobby’s mind. And then afterwards, Bobby had said what the man had to him and as a result, Buck had been tilted off his axis by how fabricated Bobby’s words had been. By how much of a lie they’d been. Buck hated to be that way, hated to mistrust anything his captain had said when Bobby had always eliminated any reason for being. It wasn't so much of him thinking Bobby had lied rather than him knowing that he'd never let himself believe in what was said, not subconsciously. 

Because Bobby had openly said he'd loved Buck, which pointed at the man caring. Caring meant the man had to be biased at least a little. Bobby had been predisposed to thinking that their team was going to need Buck, because Bobby loved him. Not because it was true, Buck was a failed savior baby. As much as he hungered at the thought of being needed, of extending his purpose and being worthwhile in the wake of the grief Bobby was about to leave behind, Buck had known he'd fail at that too. 

Buck failed things. His relationships spoke that enough on their own. But if anyone needed any more knowledge of such, then he thinks it'd started at birth, multiplying when he hadn't served his purpose in saving Daniel. Then he'd failed Maddie in forcing her into the role of being a pseudo mother as a child, then he'd failed her time and time again in not doing more to break her apart from Doug. He'd failed Bobby all the times he hasn't lived up to his potential, forcing the man to fire him. Had ruined everyone's lives in some way with the sheer rashness of the lawsuit, then after, had ruined Christopher’s life on two occasions that he could think of. Once when he'd frozen up and let Eddie get shot in front of him, he'll always acknowledge that it should've been him instead no matter what Eddie spews about him not being expendable. And the other when he'd nearly let Eddie die in a collapsed drain pipe. He'd failed. So many times. And this final time? Had cost him Bobby, it'd cost Athena her husband and her children a father. It should've been Buck that had to pay the consequences of his screw ups, not Bobby. 

Buck failed things, he failed people, especially loved ones, apparently. So as much as he tried not to be so bitter and put off by anything Bobby related when the man had died, he was. Damnit, part of him couldn't fucking help it, because Bobby had sacrificed himself. Had made that decision for him knowing Buck would have preferred it had been him. Bobby hadn't given him a choice; instead, Bobby had ejected some words about Buck being needed when, frankly, that wasn't true. 

Bobby had just told him that to give him an attenuated sense of purpose, a reason to be here that stopped him from going AWOL. It didn't, Buck had seen through it all the second Bobby had said it to him. 

Buck wasn't needed, just as Buck wasn't fine. But Bobby had been a necessity to them all, for sure. 

And out of love and respect for Bobby, for his captain's last wishes — Buck will make himself be worth someone needing. He's not fine, hasn't yet worked himself up to that tier. He's going to be though, if not for himself then for those around him who deserve the pillar of support he can provide. 

He's okay, he can be that. He has to be that because it's all he's good for. It'll all be okay. 

Sure, Captain Nash — the one and only man who had stood a chance at being like an actual dad to him — is dead. Has gone where he can't follow no matter how much he longs too. Bobby's gone, and that's something he'd had to witness. Something that'd always be in the back of his mind, direly burning into his consciousness, ingrained there — just like the fact that he'd never said ‘I love you’ back to the man is ingrained there as well and would always haunt him. 

But it's fine, it's not like he's plagued by nightmares each night. Not like he can't stomach anything, and it's not like his willpower is the one thing keeping him from deteriorating on the spot. 

He's fine. 

And sure, his best friend is going to be heading back to Texas to take a job at the El Paso Fire Department and Eddie didn’t tell him before making that decision. But despite that all, Buck’s fine. He's not at risk of falling apart at the seams or anything like those around him want to believe. He's not at risk of doing anything to himself.

Or at least that's what he tells himself.

He tells himself frequently, every morning in fact that he's got this, can handle it. This had to be just another trial, another fucked up tribulation thrown his way. And he'd navigate his way through.

He would.

[parentaldissapointmentguidelines]

This is originally an idea from @thirdwheelravi

But I had a similar thought, so when I found their post on pinterest, I couldn't help but make a fic from it... except I went a little bit further hehe

But here is my take on it (please be kind, I haven't written and actual fic in forEVER):

It was quiet in the house. Too quiet for Buck's liking. He liked it better when there was some noise. Like Chris' excited shouts when he was gaming with some friends, or Eddie's mindless commentary while they were watching a movie together. The silence was numbing to Buck, it screamed out to him that he was alone yet again, and it made his skin itch. Therefore he decided to turn on the TV, so it could drone on in the background. Eventually he fell asleep to it.

The thing was, he never meant to fall asleep there on Eddie's couch. Eddie had invited him over for their second ever official date, after they had been dating for 3 weeks, since Christopher had been dropped off at Shannon's door the previous morning, as per the costudy agreement, before Eddie and Buck started their 24 hour shift. In the 3 weeks they had so far been dating, they had gotten surprisingly little alone time so far. Between Buck's babysitting for Maddie and Chim, Christopher's after school activities and homework, Eddie's effort to take care of tia Pepa, making sure she was okay after abuela passed away, and their crazy shifts at the firehouse, there just wasn't a lot of time left for just them. So sue Buck for being excited about his date with Eddie, enough so that he showed up 30 minutes earlier than Eddie had asked him to.

Only, when Buck parked his care outside of Eddie's house at 3.30 that afternoon, Eddie's car was not their at all, and Eddie had left a message on Buck's phone, reading 'sorry, something came up, I had to help my cousin out with an emergency, I'm gonna be home a little later, come over at 5.30 pm in stead?' so Buck wrote back that he was just gonna come over at the planned time, and didn't mention that he was already there, and added on 'If it's okay if I just let myself in?', which got a simple thumbs up, from Eddie.

So here Buck was, dosing off on the couch at 5.45 pm on Eddie's couch, still waiting for Eddie to get home. It's not like they had a reservation to get to, they had decided on going for a sunset picnic on a secluded beach, one that was a hidden gem that not many tourists know about, and Buck had already made the pasta salad. It still hurt though, that Eddie didn't even call him when he realised he was gonna be a lot later than he had previously thought. He was calming himself down with the fact that Eddie had a lot on his mind lately, and some days, it seemed he didn't know up from down, and he had probably been so stressed out about whatever he was helping his cousin with, that he hadn't even realised how late it was.

The bitterness however, bubbled back up again, when Eddie came in the door, talking on the phone while laughing. Eddie had the nerve to be laughing and look relaxed, while Buck was falling asleep on his couch, 1.5 hours after when Eddie had rescheduled their new dat to be. A rather guilty look overtook Eddie's features when he looked into Buck's sleepy eyes.

"Hey, Liliana, I'm gonna have to call you back", he said as he bid his goodbyes. "Hey, Buck, I'm so sorry, time really got away from me, I was trying to make it quick, I really did-", he was going in for a kiss on Buck's cheek, but Buck -who hadn't been able to let his hurt go just yet- turned away from it.

"You couldn't have called? Just let me know you were gonna be even later? I would've understood if you had just given me a single call to let me know. We could've rescheduled for another night." Buck really did not want to be mad, not when he had gotten Eddie back to him, not when they could be spending their night more productively, like cuddling under the stars in Eddie's teeny tiny backyard, or even just on the couch, or lazily make out in Eddie's bed. Yet, Buck couldn't let it go before he had said his piece. It was a bad habit he had, and usually his choice of words were quite impulsive in this setting, which meant that half the time he ended up saying something hurtful that he would really regret. He managed to bite his tongue this time, it was far too early in their relationship to wreck it in that way.

"Buck, baby, I'm so sorry, I have no excuse, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, just let me make it up to you, whatever you want, I'll do it.". The thing was, Buck knew he was being unfair. He had watched Eddie burn the candle from both ends lately, and he deserved some grace. Yes, forgetting his date was not a fantastic thing to do, but it wasn't like Eddie had stood him up in a public place, left him sitting at a table for 2 in the middle of a busy restaurant for everyone to see. Eddie knew that Buck was sitting in his house, a place he was very comfortable in, and Buck knew that Eddie knew, that he made himself at home there, even without the owner there to tell him that.

But Buck was also a bit jealous. He wanted to be the one to make Eddie relax, to smile, to forget his worries for a while. Except Liliana did it first, and managed to make Eddie so relaxed he forgot the time. Forgot how long Buck had been waiting for him at home. Buck knew the jealousy of it all was his own problem, so he swallowed it all down. They could still have a nice date night, even if it was a bit too dark to go out to the beach.

"It's fine, just... Go get showered, put on some casual clothes, and meet me back out here afterwards. We can still watch a movie, and eat some food. Do you still want the pasta salad, or should we order a pizza?" Buck tried to smile naturally at Eddie, but he knew it still looked a little bit forced.

"Thanks, I've been looking forward to the pasta salad all day today, no way we are eating a pizza", that got a real smile out of Buck.

As Eddie took an impressively quick shower, Buck laid out everything, set the table, got out some candles, took the salad out of the fridge, and found something he actually wanted to watch on the TV.

However, when Eddie rounded the corner into the living room, Buck immidiately knew by his expression that something was wrong.

"What's wrong?"

Eddie took a beat before he answered, letting out a big sigh.

"I can't do this anymore.", he paused, as if he was thinking things carefully through, as if he had to say the right things, to salvage what he could salvage, a friendship.

"I thought that once we started this up, we'd have more time for each other, but it feels like we have even less time together now. I don't want to hurt you, but that is what I'm doing. You deserve someone that can put you first, make you feel like the most important person in the world. You mean the world to me, but I can't show it to you, and you deserve better than that."

When Buck understood what was happening, he started to get pissed off again.

"You say you don't want to hurt me, so your logical conclusion is to break up with me?", he said with the most sarcastic voice he could, around his tears.

"I can't be what you deserve Buck! You deserve to be treated as the most special person in the world" Eddie couldn't look into Buck's eyes while saying this, too scared he was gonna break down.

"And what about what I want, huh? I only want you, Eddie! I don't want 'better', because you are what is better for me!" Buck was feeling slightly hysterical towards the end of his sentence, but he had to make Eddie see.

But Eddie couldn't budge, he had to let Buck go, it was what Buck deserved. Therefore, he also couldn't look up, he couldn't meet Buck's eyes, because he knew he would break the second he looked into those stormy blue eyes, that were welling up with tears, like waves that were crashing over each other at the beginning of a storm. Eddie knew all of this without looking, because he knew Buck too well. Right now, he could probably sit down with a police sketch artist, and recount Buck's face perfectly, and the sketch would look like it was drawn from posing, not memory.

"I think you should go, cause I don't want to draw this out for any of us more than we need to, it will only hurt us both more", Buck could barely hear those words, they were close to a whisper.

"If you didn't want me, you should've just said so, in stead of being a coward hiding behind 'what's best for me'!".

Oooh boy. There it was. The impulsive words that he couldn't just take back. Right this moment, he didn't care though.

He didn't stick around to see how they affected Eddie though. Didn't see him break down completely for the first time since he took a baseball bat to everything he owned. Didn't stick around for the sobs that left Eddie's lips, as he saw the love of his life leave his house. Didn't stick around to see Eddie's knees buckle, making him land in a sobbing whimpering heap on the floor.

In stead he got into his own car, drove around for half an hour, sobbing himself until his eyes were blood shot, and his throat was hoarse. He drove around for half and hour, ish, before he ended up in front of a familiar front porch, without even realising it. He got out of his car again, steeled himself before knocking. The door swung open, and he came face to face with Eddie. Eddie who had a matching heartbroken face to himself, he didn't care though, he barged past him, not giving Eddie any time to protest.

"Hey man, you look like hell, so I'm assuming that you're going through something, but you won't believe the evening I just had, my date just broke up with me. So I need you to best friend up, and put your own problems aside for me, cause I need my bff". Eddie couldn't help the chuckle that came out of his mouth at the absurdity and just the general Buck-ness of it all.

He had half expected Buck to go to Maddie, to get an angry phone call from Chim about how badly he screwed up. He did not see this one coming, though in fairness he should have.

"Okay, that's fair, I will go put on that tea you like so much, the one that you only trust me to make you, cause it sounds like you deserve it right now, and you can tell me all about this idiot of a boy-" he was cut off by Buck's arm, swinging into his shoulder in a chastising manner

"Hey! What was that for?"

"You don't get to call him an idiot. Only I get to do that. He's actually an amazing guy, and it hurts really bad that I can't have him", Buck almost looked like he was forgetting that they were doing a bit, that he was talking about Eddie, to Eddie. It almost got too real, and Eddie had to bring them back, as tears were welling up in those blue eyes again.

"Okay, why don't you tell me all about what this non-idiot did to you that sent you crying to my door?", Eddie said with as much compassion as he could, wanting Buck to vent out all of his feelings. It was he, after all, who had broken up with Buck, Buck deserved the chance to get to vent to his best friend.

And vent he did. He told Eddie the whole story, as if Eddie didn't know any of it from before. Eddie felt even more guilty when Buck told him he had shown up even earlier, but he tried to mask it. He made small remarks on how stupid his date was, or how Buck deserved better, and how he would go and beat him up for him. All the while, Buck was following Eddie around, as he made them both tea, as Eddie got the salad out of the fridge again, as they sat down on the couch. Just like how they usually do it, one of them trailing after the other around the house.

"Don't do that! Yeah, he might sound like a bit of an idiot, but he is the funniest, kindest, and most romantic guy I have ever met. I know that the only reason the night ended like it did, is because he always wants to help everyone, but he never asks for help himself, not until the rubber band snaps, and he needs help to pick up the pieces again. He loves so incredibly selflessly, and sometimes, that can be lethal. I don't know what I'm gonna do without him. I can never love anyone else the way I love him, I just wish he'd let me in a bit more."

"Are you sure you should be trying to get back together with this guy, he sounds kinda toxic", Eddie tries to joke away Buck's implications.

"He might have some bad habits and problems, but don't we all? And once you get to the core of it, you won't find a more passionate and loyal best friend, lover, father, friend and so on and so forth, than him", Buck's whole face was lighting up with truth and wanting. Wanting of Eddie to understand how much he meant it.

Eddie picked up his so far, mostly untouched salad, stuck a forkful in his mouth and said around it "oh I can think of one guy that could give your guy a rund for his money, but I screwed things uo bad with him today... Speaking of which; do you now want to hear about how I screwed up this date with the most handsome man in the universe?"

At that, Buck let out a full body laugh, that almost had him chocking on his own pasta.

Later on, they were laying together, naked in bed. Not because of any funny business, but just because they felt like clothes were too many barriers for them at the moment, they needed skin contact at every possible point, skin flushed to each others, in a vulnerable, but also soft and fragile in the best way possible, moment. They both knew that they would be alright, as long as they talk to each other.

[buddie-in-love]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/72665731/chapters/216737891

Chapter 15 is up!

(15 chapters holy hell)

Tags for visibility: @floatboats @hollanderdiaz @leatherjacketeddie @eddiesilverstar @lesbianeddiesdiaz @itswhatyougive @fiona-fififi @buckslasagna @beefybisexualrozanov @idealuk @fuckleyydiaz @buckmybeloved @peggingeddiediaz @bucks-disco-cowboy-hat @9-1-1-slag @buckstattoos @fuckleyydiaz @tazwren @sintari

[neptune-scythe]

thinking about how in 6x11 the only time we actually see Eddie in Bucks room is when Christopher is there

thinking about Eddie choosing to pretend like Buck is already dead because he knows the pain of watching a friend partner die ... of seeing someone he loves still technically alive but knowing it's going to end soon

so it's easier to just pretend like he's dead, to shove down his feelings and not have to confront them by saying goodbye or spending what could be final moments together

it's easier to pretend like the grief is in the past instead of accepting the fears of the present

[buck-botheredandbewildered]

just a little longer

9-1-1, buddie. s8ep18 'seismic shifts'. building collapse leads to buck confessing. eddie speedruns the realization that he is not straight and is in love with his best friend. ambiguous/open ending. 2525 words.

written for day 6 (late i know shh) of @ailesswhumptober, using the alt prompt "this isn't how i wanted you to find out"

"Buck? I thought you were on shift," Eddie said by way of greeting, cradling his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he went back to folding his laundry to pack. He had a flight to catch later, after all, both he and Chris did. "H-Hey, Eds," Buck breathed, and it… Something wasn't right. He didn't sound right. "I, uh, I am on shift, I just…" Eddie froze, a half-folded pair of jeans in his hands. His brain didn't seem to be working, just one thought running on repeat. Something was wrong. "Buck—" "It's—I'm fine," Buck interrupted automatically. He was lying, Eddie knew it. Could tell by his voice, could feel it in his bones. OR Eddie is packing to return to Texas when he gets a call from Buck, a call that changes everything.

Eddie finished folding the shirt in his hands and tucked it into his suitcase before grabbing his ringing phone from the table. Buck's face was on his screen, that photo that Maddie had sent Eddie and then Eddie had promptly made Buck's new contact photo.

No, Eddie didn't really have an explanation for why. The picture was just so quintessentially Buck it had made his chest ache. He also wasn't sure why Maddie had sent the picture, but that was just kind of how they worked—random unprompted texts and then weeks without further contact. It reminded Eddie a bit of his relationship with his own sisters.

"Buck? I thought you were on shift," Eddie said by way of greeting, cradling his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he went back to folding his laundry to pack. He had a flight to catch later, after all, both he and Chris did.

"H-Hey, Eds," Buck breathed, and it… Something wasn't right. He didn't sound right. "I, uh, I am on shift, I just…"

Eddie froze, a half-folded pair of jeans in his hands. His brain didn't seem to be working, just one thought running on repeat. Something was wrong. "Buck—"

"It's—I'm fine," Buck interrupted automatically. He was lying, Eddie knew it. Could tell by his voice, could feel it in his bones. "Well, not… not fully, actually, but—"

"What happened?"

Before Buck could answer, Eddie heard Christopher calling him from the next room over. Eddie moved on autopilot, going to the living room to see what his son needed even though his mind couldn't seem to form thoughts beyond a panicked string of BuckBuckBuckBu-

"Was that Chris?" Buck asked, before letting out a wet-sounding cough. Christopher looked at Eddie as he walked up behind the couch and just pointed to the TV.

The scene it showed wasn't pretty. A collapsed high-rise made downtown Los Angeles look like a war zone, debris everywhere and dust turning the sky and air gray. Before the camera moved, Eddie caught a glimpse of a fire engine, saw the white numbers stark against the bright red paint. 118.

"Ed—"

"Tell me you aren't in that building," Eddie demanded, voice low to try and hide his building terror. He was usually pretty good at hiding his panic, at maintaining his cool and collected facade. But the loss of Bobby was still too raw, grief and guilt tangled like lethal snakes in his stomach, ready to spring and sink their teeth in at any moment.

"You wouldn't believe me," Buck said, and Eddie could hear the slight smile in his voice. He also could finally process what was wrong in Buck's voice. It had that edge to it, that rasp that Buck got when he was in pain but trying to hide it. This wasn't the usual hint of it, like on days when his leg acted up but he tried to power through. This was… It was intense. Like it was taking all of Buck's willpower to sound normal.

How had Eddie not realized it immediately?

"I wanted to tell you something." Buck's voice brought Eddie out of his racing thoughts. His gaze cut over to the dining room table, where his 118 turnouts and helmet were sitting. A gift, something that was normally only given at a firefighter's retirement. He didn't even let the thought fully form before he'd made his decision.

"Tell me in person," Eddie said firmly. He glanced at Tía Pepa, who just nodded—she'd stay with Chris, he was good to go.

"Eds, it's not…" Buck was cut off by another cough. "The team is already looking for me, but it doesn't look good. Just let me—"

"No. I—" Eddie felt like he couldn't breathe for a second and his fingers clenched around his phone. "I'm coming there, Buck. We're gonna get you out."

It occurred to him then that he didn't even know how badly Buck was injured. Eddie decided he would ask in the car, he couldn't waste another second standing still.

Buck gave a heavy, tired sigh. "Can I talk to Chris, please?"

Eddie wanted to say no. He wanted to insist that Buck just wait to see him in person too. Because Buck not coming home… That just wasn't an option. Eddie refused to attend another funeral, refused to let his kid attend another funeral.

But if.. If he failed, if they couldn't save Buck, then Eddie would have been the one to take away the chance to say goodbye. Not just from Buck, but from Christopher.

So Eddie gave Christopher his phone while he pulled on his turnouts. Driving over suited up probably wouldn't be very fun, but he needed to be able to get straight to work. He'd tear through the rubble alone with his bare hands if he had to. Buck was his best friend, his partner (even if they weren't working together anymore), practically his co-parent at this point. They'd promised to have each other's backs, always, so that's what Eddie would do. He'd get over there and have Buck's back, find him and fix him and save him.

When Christopher gave Eddie his phone back, looking solemn with wet eyes, Eddie took it and kissed the top of his head instinctively before he was off.

"Eds, you're not— You won't hang up, right?" Buck asked, suddenly sounding small.

"No, you're gonna talk to me until you're found," Eddie said, pushing the rental car faster than he really should the second he was on the road.

"I'm not sure how long I can, uh, stay awake," Buck admitted. "It's—" He took a shaky breath. "Harder than I thought." His words were already coming a little slower than they had been, and he couldn't seem to keep up his perfectly okay act anymore.

Eddie didn't want to ask, but he knew he had to. "How bad are you hurt?" His phone was on speaker now and sitting in his lap, his hands clenching the wheel tightly so they wouldn't shake.

"Bad," Buck said simply. "I'm, I'm pretty crushed down here, Eds. Can feel somethin' bleeding, too, but it's hard to tell from where. Ev- Everything hurts."

Eddie swallowed thickly, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. "Can you move at all? Try to find the bleeding?"

Buck let out a little huff of laughter that turned into another one of those wet coughs. Eddie could picture the blood being coughed up, spilling over those pink lips and dribbling down Buck's chin, staining his fair skin. "Can't seem to reach it. My other arm is pinned on the side where the blood seems to be pooling. But—Look, Eddie, I really need you to let me get this out."

"Buck—"

"Please? I-I don't know how much longer I have. I ca-can't… Don't make me go without telling you this." Buck was begging, and Eddie felt his eyes sting with sudden tears. He blinked them away, trying to focus on the road and just get there.

"Okay," Eddie whispered, hating the way his voice cracked.

He heard Buck take a deep breath, like he was steadying himself. It's quiet for a moment, and Eddie could imagine Buck's mind going a million miles per hour, like always. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"I love you," Buck finally whispered, soft in a way that made Eddie's chest ache, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"I love you too," Eddie said without thought. Because he did. Sure, they'd never explicitly said it, but they loved each other. Their lives were so intertwined it probably wasn't entirely healthy, and Eddie wouldn't admit it but he dreaded going back to Texas. Leaving Buck. It wasn't… It wasn't home. But he had to do what was best for Christopher.

Buck let out a sad laugh, and it hurt Eddie down to the bone. "That's—no. I'm in love with you," he corrected, followed by a wracking cough and Eddie can hear him spit out what he assumed to be blood.

"What?" The single word was all Eddie could manage, his own mind racing now. Buck was in love with him? That was… He hadn't even known that was an option. Yes, Buck was bisexual, and yes their friendship had never been exactly normal but…

At first, Eddie couldn't make sense of the sudden lightness in his chest, like a weight had been lifted that he hadn't even known was there. He felt like he was looking back over the last seven years in an entirely new light. Their friendship wasn't normal, was it? There'd always been something there, small at first, but it had grown with each important moment.

The seed had been planted their first shift together, when Buck had joined Eddie in the ambulance to pull a live round out of a man's leg. And after was when they'd promised to have each other's backs. Every little moment that came after just cemented their places in each other's lives; every call, every moment with Christopher, every time either of them almost died.

Through it all, a thread of love that Eddie had never wanted to tug at, afraid it would make everything unravel.

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out," Buck said, his voice pulling Eddie back to the present. His words were coming a little slower, like they were taking extra effort. Eddie could hear the pain in his voice and it hurt all over like he was suddenly a bruise instead of a human being. "I'm not sure I ever wanted you to find out, I know you're straight—"

"I don't know if that's true, actually," Eddie interrupted quietly, the words leaving his mouth before he could think better of it. Because he wasn't. He had never bothered to question it, but now that he was being forced to actually think about how he felt about Buck, to consider these feelings that had never felt like a real option…

Eddie was in love with him. It was the only explanation. The way Buck had always just fit in his life. The way his presence felt like a piece of Eddie's soul that had been missing for years had finally come home. Every moment of instant dislike for anyone dating Buck, every moment where Eddie felt like he couldn't love the women he'd dated the way they loved him, it all suddenly made sense.

"Don't," Buck whispered, and Eddie could hear the tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. "I'm—Don't—" He took a deep but shaky breath, and Eddie heard him make a noise like it had hurt him to do so. "Don't say something you don't mean, Eddie. I just didn't want to die without saying it. You… You needed to know. How loved you are. How easy it is to love you."

Buck was crying now, quietly, but Eddie could still hear it. "How hard it is to stop," he added in a broken voice, and Eddie felt like he couldn't breathe. It took all his self-control to keep the car straight. He was almost there, just a few more minutes.

"Buck, really, I—"

Buck made a pained noise. "Eds—"

"No," Eddie said firmly, his chest heaving, his heart beating in his ears. "Now you need to listen."

"It's okay, Eddie, I've made peace with it. It doesn't matter, anyway, I can… I can feel myself going."

"You're not going anywhere," Eddie snapped, his jaw clenching and the leather of the steering wheel creaking under his grip. "You're gonna listen, because we're both apparently too stupid to realize that I'm in love with you too."

There was a beat of silence, broken only by Buck's ragged breathing. Eddie continued before Buck could speak.

"I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner. But it doesn't matter. You don't get to let me know this is an option only to die on me." Eddie was crying now too, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. He pursed his lips, tried to will them to stop. But he couldn't. Because he had heard it in Buck's voice, in the way he was breathing. Buck had said he could feel himself going, and Eddie could hear it, could sense it like ice flooding his veins and a hand cracking open his ribs to clench around his heart.

"I-I feel… pretty stupid now," Buck mumbled, his words starting to slur like his tongue was heavy in his mouth. Eddie pulled over and slammed his car into park, because he was finally here. It looked just as bad as it had on the news—worse now that he knew Buck was somewhere in that mess, dying and in love with him.

"We're both stupid," Eddie said, voice thick as he choked back the tears. He scrubbed a hand down his face and grabbed his helmet from the passenger seat before getting out of the car. "But it doesn't matter. I'm here, Buck. We're gonna find you, a-and you're gonna hold on until we do, okay?"

"I'm so tired, Eds," Buck whispered.

"I-I know, cariño," Eddie hushed, the pet name slipping out without thought. "But please, Buck, just a little longer."

"M'pretty far down," Buck told him, and Eddie could hardly focus on where he was going. The scene was a mess, but then he spotted Gerard. He'd be able to tell him where to look, where the rest of the 118 was searching for Buck. "You guys won't get here in time, Eddie. We don't have enough time."

"Buck—"

"This was never meant to be anything other than a goodbye." Buck wasn't crying anymore, and Eddie could hear it in his voice. He didn't have much fight left in him. Eddie froze in the middle of the street.

"No, please." Eddie couldn't even bring himself to care about the way his voice broke pathetically.

"If I dream this time, I hope I dream of you."

Eddie made a noise like a wounded animal. He was sure his chest was cracking open, his heart shredding itself to pieces. "Stay," he begged in a whisper. "Buck, I love you, please—"

"S'not my choice, baby," Buck mumbled, and Eddie could hear the way he smiled slightly as he said the pet name. He could picture that sad little smile, Buck's lips probably stained with his own blood. He knew Buck well enough to know he was probably way too happy at being allowed that expression of affection. Eddie wanted to hear him say it a million more times. "I love you too, so I'm trying, but—"

Buck was cut off by the sound of the call ending, and Eddie cursed loudly, his chest tight with barely suppressed sobs. When he tried to call Buck back, it went straight to voicemail. Of course, Buck wasn't great about charging his phone, so of course it would die.

Eddie shoved his phone in his pocket and ran. He needed to find his team, to make sure they found Buck in time.

He couldn't lose him. He wasn't sure he'd survive it.