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For my beloved @outrunningthedark bc iight have a bit of a crush on her and bc she keeps me sane in this fandom. T, i want you know I've barely written anyhing beside the one sterek challenge with a group for the last 5 months so thank you for being my muse -- sorry it's not proofread or anything

Buddie • knuckle kiss • breakdown scene from the 5b promo • ~2k word count

He knew before he even opened the door. Maybe itbwas the subliminal space he just entered, proximity to Eddie had always had an anchoring effect on him. While the world whirled around him in stark colored monsoons, Eddie was the eye of the storm. Steady, calm, centered. Buck had clear view of him always- well, he does get torn back into the vicious currents every now and then, loses sight of up and down and everything important. Nonetheless he always finds his way back. To the Diaz house, Chris' room, Eddie's side. And the world was right again.

Might be that, that clued him in to the secondary storm that awaited within but it's probably the tone of the text he received from Eddie half an hour ago.

/ Could you pick up Christopher from abuelas tomorrow /

A question with just one obvious answer, (a simple /Of course!/) and therefore not a real question at all, but the missing punctuation was untypical. Eddie despised text speak. In fact, he always called about the important things, as for example anything about Christopher. It jump started his heart into overdrive, alarm in his veins before he could even reasonably explain it. But Buck knew.

Knew there was something at least. Not quite exactly what, because Eddie had hid panic attacks from him in the recent past. Hidden just because Buck hadn't been around as much, which only made sense if girlfriends were around, but still felt like someone had drilled a well of failure back in through his chest. He should have been there.

But there would be no stopping him now. No /it's not my place, i shouldn't intrude/ or /I'm not needed/. Eddie never called for help for himself. He made sure Christopher was taken care of if he couldn't and he didn't like making waves, being obvious. That's why he was asking Buck to take the boy, not asking abuela for another day. And he'd accepted Buck's persistence, asked him to step in if he couldn't, thinly veiled by the premise of /just in case he died on the job/ and here he had gone and quit it - possibly signaling that he didn't need Buck anymore - but Buck had promised he would never not be there again. Since the stupid lawsuit, since the shooting, always, always, no matter the circumstances. As long as Eddie would have him.

And here Eddie was, asking for him. Buck was immediately canceling on his plans for the next day with a quick text to Taylor and jumping into his car. On his way and enduring traffic without much of a bother because he had only one thought.

Eddie was in trouble. He would never willingly give his kid off to someone else unless there was something he could do about it. Something was very wrong. At the very least, a panic attack. At the worst... Only heaven knew because he wasn't answering Buck's calls or texting back. Eddie never ghosted Buck so suddenly, again, without good reason. He could be in hospital again, who knew. The universe seemed hell bent on hurting Eddie, and well, Buck barely saw him anymore, not during his shifts, only when they were both off duty and Eddie invited him over. As good as never if you asked the anxiety that made Buck's skin crawl s all hours of the day and night, even when Eddie was sleeping (because what he wasn't? what if he was also having nightmares like Buck had?)

As Buck turned the key in the Diaz's front door and stepped through, he embarked into a known front flooded by a chaos he didn't know how to confront, much less control. Yet, there was no hesitation. He followed the invisible tether straight in, shoes toed off behind a door that may or may not have closed behind him, keys possibly dropped off on the counter, possibly in his jacket pocket. It didn't matter. He found himself sinking right at Eddie's side, knees hitting the carpet between couch and coffee table.

Everything about the scene was new, Eddie -sobbing, desparate for breath as he shook his head, bloody knuckles weakly wrapped around a baseball bat, looking more lost than Buck had ever seen him. More than that split second where Buck had told him he lost Christopher in a tsunami wave, more than the time when he'd been shot and bleeding out beneath Buck's hands, than the fight in the supermarket, than Shannon's death, more than bruised up ribs and how Eddie had clung to Buck's easy emotional facade when Buck saw right through his struggles in therapy. There was a weight to the way his shoulders hung, chin shuddering and eyes unfocused, red and streaming, a helplessness that was gut wrenching, and Buck didn't know where to start.

"I can't. I-I can't, it's all jus'... I can't," came the wet pleas from Eddie's bitten, tortured lips.

"Hey," Buck tried to alert his friend to his presence but his own voice broke, barely a scared whisper, foam atop a ripple, useless amongst the raging waves that were beating relentleasly against the ship wreck. He had to get it together, blink away his teary fear and be the anchor for Eddie this time around. He wasn't a powerless 10 year old watching his sister be stolen away without any attempt of rescue from his parents. Hadn't been that person for a long time. He had his flaws, but rock bottom and misery were a setting he had mastered, had practiced his escapes and if anything he could make himself comfortable in the darkness alongside him.

"Hey! Hey, Eddie," Buck tried louder, this time pouring his resolve into every syllable. The same way he'd crawled under that fire truck, single handedly pulling Eddie out and into it, kept him holding on until the hospital. Buck knew well enought that there were many things he didn't know and couldn't predict. It's why he liked to memorize facts he could rely on to navigate his way out.

He didn't know where the blood came from yet, nor the wet smears on Eddie's shirt. Nor what had triggered the crash, if Eddie was in physical pain or if it was 'just' another panic attack, one strong enought to barrel over the strongest man Buck knew.

But he knew the strength Eddie poured into him with every small acknowledgement and touch, the way Eddie could steady his soul with a few direct words, sealing them with a warm brown gaze that felt like home. Buck remembered every grip of his hand, palm in palm or on the crook of his neck, bracing his shoulder- just, holding.

Buck knew Eddie relied on him too.

"Eddie, look at me. I'm here. I'm right here." Buck leaned forward, searched to find the man he knew in flooded eyes but was met by a shield, left to hover a mere inch away, his target unreachable. His hands itched but he didn't dare reach out, not yet, for fear of escalating Eddie's occurring nightmare.

Still, Eddie quivered, head shaking /no/ repeatedly, mouthing incoherently except for the quietly sobbed 'I cant's, rough like they'd been torn straight from the fabric of Eddie's core by jagged claws. He moved, just barely, but in abrupt quakes, the bat tilting, alerting Buck once again to its presence and to the solution. Buck grabbed the middle of it, right above Eddie's knees, breathing just a little easier at the conbection, albeit through a conduit.

"I got you."

And Eddie's eyes still scrounged the air before him for purchase blindly. Buck just wanted to grab his face and make him see.

"I'm here now. I got you. It's okay. You hear me, Eddie?"

Buck tugged a little at the bat, hoping both to remove it and to slowly inch his way into Eddie's space, make his presence physically known.

"I'm here now. You can let go. I got you."

"I can't, Buck," Eddie coughed out, strangled and heavy, like a whale beached and heaving. And yet Buck had never been happier to hear his name spoken. "It's all... I just- i mean, look."

He gestured all around them, spread his fingers to present his damaged hand, shrugged as he held up the bat, and returned into the former position, elbows locking into place.

"I try and try and I," Eddie wept on, the dam at least leaking a bit now. "And I can't. I can't do it. I always fuck up. I'm, I'm a mess."

Buck kept a firm grip on the bat, angling it away from Eddie as he let him talk. Words could be a miraculous thing, the end of the world or the only remaining tether, and he hated how dry his throat felt.

"You're not. Trust me, you-"

"Look at me! I'm a mess. I can't get it right. I just can't."

"Eddie, I promise you. You... Might be a mess. But who isn't? You're doing so good. You're doing everything right, okay?"

But he was shaking his head vehemently, knuckles only tightening on the handle. Buck had to persist.

"No, Eddie, listen to me. Listen. You're doing everything right. You just, you have to take care of yourself, too. Even Bobby has to ask for help sometimes." Buck carefullt slid his hand up, just half an inch under Eddie's, holding his breath.

"You might be a mess but that's okay. I'm right here with you. We'll figure it out, okay? I got your back, remember?"

And the tears still pearled down reddened cheeks, soft whimpers falling every time Eddie's lips quivered open for breath, but the winds seemed to lessen. Just a tiny bit.

"You just have to let me," Buck said.

Eddie breathed in deep once, and coughed wetly.

"I got you. You can let go."

Buck dared to make contact now, sliding his fingers over Eddie's lightly, coaxing them patiently from the wooden weapon, until he freed it frok his grasp and stowed it away beneath the table, while never letting go of the shaking hand.

"I'm not going anywhere. Promised that to the both of you."

He held on to Eddie's hand, finding the blood on his knuckles to have already dried, and tried not to worry too much about it until he'd stabilized Eddie emotionally, although he was already recounting the steps from here to the bathroom counter where rhe rirst aid kit sat and if they actually had everything they needed inside it. Eddie had minutely sunken back into the couch cushions, still sniffling and crying, now starting to shake from exhaistion probably, but slowly finding solid ground again. He breathed a long shuddering sigh, throat rasping like he was looking for something to say, unease marking his features as if he was about to apologize and this time it was Buck who shook his head.

To make his point clear, he lifted the so carefully cradled knuckles in his palm and pressed his lips to the cracked skin. Finally Eddie met his eyes with a bewildered gasp and Buck waited patiently for the turmoil within the other man to settle, thumb brushing over his tired fingers and just repeating, "I got you."

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