sunlight through a window, where i stand
bucktommy | whump | hurt and comfort | READ ON A03
Sent to a medical call at an elderly couple's bungalow with reports of a suspected heart attack and the victim having been trapped against the front door, the 118 hits tragedy midway through a twenty four hour shift.
Buck I
“How are things going with you and Tommy? It’s coming up to almost a year, isn’t it?”
Buck has to swallow the immediate and instinctive eleven months and fourteen days that bubbles up happily. Perhaps Bobby can sense the helpless love that Buck is hopeless to push back, because Bobby only smiles at him, shadowed but no less happy for him.
“Almost a year,” Buck says casually. He’s never been less casual, honestly. There’s a tone of excitement that he can never hide when he talks about Tommy. He deliberately avoids looking at the massive Kinard Fund mason jar that Chimney rattles at him every time he mentions Tommy, or lights up when Tommy gets in contact. “I’ve-I’m-”
Buck gestures, a little helpless in his utter fondness. Coffee almost slops over the rim.
2. Tommy I
“You lookin’ forward to your gaycation, Kinard?” Lucy says from the fuselage with a shit eating grin that Tommy can just see from the corner of his eye.
Nico, with a long suffering expression, elbows her in the side.
“I’m gonna toss you outta this copter, I swear to fuck, Donato,” Nico hisses. “You’re gonna get him started again.”
“Oh, you want me to start again?” Tommy grins. “I’m gonna get a cute little photo of Evan printed out and stick it right in the cockpit just so I can see his beautiful face whenever I want and I’m gonna kiss it every time I think about about him and start missing, maybe get a tasteful nudie to shove in my wallet to-”
“Fuck sake, Lucy!” Nico groans over Tommy’s kissing noises. He bangs his head against the fuselage side.
3. Buck 2
The interior is just as dark as the exterior, Buck’s lamp illuminating a portion of the dark stained wood floor, a mirror hanging above the side table and a stooped, trembling figure in the door frame just to the left of it, arms up in front of them-
“Fire Depart-” Buck starts.
A bright flash of light, a crack-pop, blood in his mouth, against his face-
“-ment - uhck.”
He chokes, spasming. His lungs refuse to rise.
Another flash, another crack-pop.
A sniper?
4. Tommy 2
“Buck’s in good hands,” Lucy tells him. “Y’know Hen and Chim are good paramedics.”
He knows Hen and Howie are good paramedics, fantastic even, have been beneath their healing hands many a time, but that means incredibly little when beneath their hands is someone who is rapidly becoming Tommy’s entire world.
“I know, Lucy.” Tommy says quietly. It would be almost inaudible if it wasn’t for their radio headsets.
“But you don’t trust them with Buckley?” Nico questions.
Tommy swallows.
“I trust them with my life,” Tommy says, heartsore and heartsick. “I won’t ever trust anyone with Evan’s.”
“Not even yourself?” Lucy asks.
5. Tommy 3
Eddie refuses to look at him, but Tommy doesn’t give a choice, eyes locked through the mirror.
“This wasn’t your fault, Eddie, you could have done nothing to prevent this. Me sayin’ ain’t gonna do shit against survivor’s guilt, I know that, but Eddie, you gotta give yourself some compassion.”
In the mirror, Eddie’s eyes slide close; hiding the tears that threaten to fall.
“I can still taste his blood.” Eddie whispers, like a prayer.
“So taste it,” Tommy says. “Taste it and know that Evan is alive because you brought him back to us.”
Eddie’s eyes open, and he stares at Tommy through that mirror.
“Buck- Buck couldn’t stand red sauces for ages after the sniper,” Eddie says after a long moment. “He tried to make a tomato based pasta sauce at mine when I was first discharged and he just ... crumbled.”
6. Tommy 4
Sal turns the tap off, and the sudden stop of rushing water makes Tommy all too aware of how his breathing is ragged, wheezing in his chest as he sits on the toilet lid in a cubicle, scared and ashamed about it.
“I can’t do this without him, Sal,” Tommy croaks. “I don’t ever wanna do this without Evan again.”
Sal’s suddenly in front of him, like Tommy’s lost time, and maybe he has; just sat in this liminal space with nothing but his best friend and his grief.
7. Tommy 5
A strange noise, and Tommy coughs, sure it had been him, mired in his own misery. But it comes again, and the sturdy chest beneath his hand hiccups, spasms. A strangled sound, choking and guttural.
An alarm screeches.
Tommy shoots to his feet, instinctively pressing the alarm button.
“Baby?” It comes out a sob, frantic and desperate.
Evan convulses, choking, head pressing into the pillow beneath it. His chest caves in - rises mechanically - falls mechanically - it doesn’t - it doesn’t -
Another alarm screeches.
“I need help here!” Tommy roars. His throat tears.
He flattens the head of the bed, pulls the violently yellow CPR tag on the air mattress.
8. Buck 3
WAKE UP BUCK
9. Tommy 6
The first view of Evan that Tommy gets makes his knees go weak.
He should be used to this.
He’s been with Evan for all of these days in the ICU, and very little has changed in regards to the equipment and leads that Evan has been put on for monitoring. Perhaps it’s because this is actually the longest Tommy has been away from Evan since his admittance that maybe he’d - expected something to have changed. Maybe he’d thought it would be like the movies; where the first time Tommy is properly away, that Evan would wake up and then Tommy would walk into the hospital room and drop his coffee - because the actors always have coffee, no matter where they’d gone to - and would breathe out Evan’s name with such love and disbelief and then they’d kiss, would exchange i love yous and the whole scene would fade to black.
That isn’t what happens.
10. Buck 4
“Tommy?”
“Hey, baby.” Tommy smiles through his tears.
Buck lifts a heavy arm, but he can’t quite lift it; it’s as if he’s disconnected from his body, static where feeling should be.
Instead;
“Cryin’?” Buck tries to question, tongue numb and fat, clumsy in his mouth. “You - okay?”
Tommy’s eyes blur with tears, red rimmed; his eyelashes tent in the welter of his misery. He scoffs; that fond, bitchy sound he always makes.
“I’m better now, Evan,” Tommy says. His thumb pets to and fro over the thin skin beneath Buck’s right eye. “So much better.”