#swashbuckley

[tripleaxeldiaz]

hey lauren ummm did u know that i love u 👉👈

griff i ADORE you and your pirates!!! 🥰🥰🥰

[protecthailmary]

don’t let go

1.2k of angst for @jaameskirk

read on AO3

Buck is going to die here. He feels it as sharply as the pain in his leg, all-encompassing and pulsing right down to his shattered bones. He’s going to die here alone in the street, his team so close and yet so far away—between him and them, through the smoke, he can see a kid with a bomb and he knows that they can’t get to him without risking themselves too. 

It should be a comfort, really, that they’re staying out of harm's way. It isn’t. It just makes him feel helpless, adrift in this sea of agony, unable to save himself from the inevitable and—he’s going to die here. 

The crunch of glass under the kid’s feet is too close, too loud. The broken windshield of the truck shifts and shatters further. Something pops and the truck rocks, sending another wave of inescapable fire up Buck’s leg. 

Everything hurts. Everything hurts and he’s alone and he wants to go home. He doesn’t want to die. 

“Help,” Buck sobs into the pavement beneath him, barely audible through the chaos. The truck rocks again and he digs his fingers into the concrete, trying to do...something. Drag himself away, maybe. He can’t think straight. 

“I want the captain!” the kid screams, somewhere in front of him. Buck stopped tracking him as soon as his vision started to swim. More shouting follows, and he thinks—maybe—is that Chimney? 

Pain rockets up his leg again, a lightning strike crackling to his very nerve endings, and Buck’s vision goes white as he rides it out. He might be screaming. He’s definitely dying. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening; Chimney was there, wasn’t he? For the briefest moment, Buck wasn’t alone. Chimney was right there. But when he manages to lift his head again, the pavement stretches out in front of him covered in shattered glass and smoke and his team is nowhere to be seen. The flickering lights of the squad cars light up the street with blue, and the heat of the fire builds behind him, but he’s feeling it less and less. Blissful numbness starts to spread through him, taking with it the agony and panic, and the space between him and his team feels endless and impassable. 

“Help,” Buck chokes out again, desperately, even though there’s no one around to hear. “I don’t—I don’t wanna die.” 

It’s so hard to keep his eyes open. He tries, knows his team wouldn’t want him to let go; he tries, but there’s too much noise and the sound of struggle slips right past him, his mind too muddled to focus on anything for very long. He can’t help but feel a little hopeless. He wants his team. He doesn’t want to die alone. He wants to go home. 

And then as if called on a prayer, there they are. There’s more shouting, and someone’s knees hit the pavement with a harsh sound right next to Buck’s ear. There’s hands on him, pressing at his pulse point and tapping at his face, but he can’t get his eyes to open. He wants—

“Eddie,” Buck manages to breathe out, when a hand slips into his. He’d know that hand anywhere, even through the haze of pain he finds himself trapped in. He tries to get his shaking fingers to cooperate and squeezes weakly; the hand in his squeezes back, firm and unshakeable. 

“I’m here, Buck,” Eddie says, the rumble of his voice coming from somewhere above his head. “We’re all right here. You’re gonna be fine.” 

He peels his eyes back open then, and it scares him how much effort the simple action takes. It’s worth it, though, because even as his vision blurs he can see Hen beside him. She tries to smile, just a ghost of a thing, when she notices that he’s watching her. 

“Hey, Buckaroo,” she says, trying to sound gentle, but doesn’t slow in her hurried movements. “How we doing?” 

“...Kinda numb,” he admits, and he thinks he might be slurring a bit. 

“We’re gonna get you out of there,” Eddie assures him again, still holding steady. “Just hold on.” 

Buck clings to that, clings to Eddie’s hand as he trembles through another spike of pain. It’s a little detached, like he’s in a bubble and everything else is just pressing in at the sides. He doesn’t want to know what it’ll feel like when the bubble pops. He hears something about lifting the truck, but he barely comprehends it. 

“Don’t let go,” he pleads, hand tightening as much as it can in Eddie’s grip. “I can’t—I can’t do this—”

“Yes you can,” Eddie snaps. “You can. I’m not letting go.” 

The unwavering confidence in Eddie’s voice and his solid grip on Buck’s hand are like a lifeline; he’s trapped, but he might not die here. There’s still hope, because his team has crossed the expanse between them to be with him, to get him out. He’s not alone. 

The truck moves, and Buck’s bubble pops. The pain crashes back in like a wave and threatens to swallow Buck up and drown him in it, and he’s screaming, this time he knows he is, over and over and over as the weight drops back onto his leg. 

He’s crying too, probably, or else that’s blood dripping down his cheek. It might be both. He can’t even hear what’s going on around him anymore past the ringing in his ears, but he feels it when they lift the truck again. It hurts so much, too much, and Buck doesn’t know if he’ll survive it but he can still feel Eddie’s hand in his and Hen’s presence beside him, and he knows they won’t let him go. They won’t let him die here. 

Buck barely has the strength left to grit out a miserable sob when they lift the truck one more time, but then Eddie’s hand is tugging at his and Hen’s hands are on his arms and he’s sliding across the pavement. The jostling movement sends shockwaves of fire up his leg with each pull but he’s free, he’s out, he’s not trapped anymore and his team is there and they’re holding on to him. Holding him together. 

“Four minutes to the hospital, Buck,” Hen says, from somewhere at his side. He’s too exhausted to turn his head to find her. “Just hang on.” 

Four minutes. He thinks he can make it another four minutes. The sky is moving above him, then, and he distantly realizes he must be on a gurney. His hand twitches, but he stills when he feels another squeeze. Eddie’s still holding on, just like he promised. 

“You didn’t let go,” Buck mutters, half to himself. Eddie meets his drifting gaze, and tries for a smile. It’s a little strained, but it’s there. 

“Not a chance,” he says firmly. 

Buck won’t die here. He knows that now because his team came for him, because Eddie didn’t let go—they gave him a lifeline and he clung to it through the agony. He’s alive, and he’s not alone.

[protecthailmary]

evil!christopher

what are you trying to accomplish here

[protecthailmary]

oh i ALSO love u!!!!

i love u MOST 

[protecthailmary]

the way that YOU get anons over MY posts is actually quite homophobic 😤

they just like me idk what to say griff

[iloveuspiderman]

i just saw your queue tag and lost my goddamn mind,,

:p thank you!!!! i spent so long trying to think of a good one so i’m glad it payed off lol

[protecthailmary]

4 8 18 30 35

4. Last thing that made you cry

embarrassingly....the fact that there was no coffee left and i had to grind more

8. Favourite quote from a tv show

ooh i have a lot of favs but one of the top ones is from 911 when Buck says “standing between you and anyone who thinks they can hurt you is exactly where I wanna be standing” to Maddie

18. What is one skill you want to learn

i wanna learn to roller skate!!

30. Favourite animal

foxes :)

35. Is love something that scares you?

god no, i have so much love in this stupid little body that it’s spilling all over the place, someone take some

ask me stuff

[katries]

chartreuse, mauve, gray

Griffin! Thank you <3  Chartreuse-  What’s your favorite animal? My favorite animal is a sloth. They’re so fuzzy and cute especially when they’re sleepy.... I just love them. A friend lives in MS and their zoo has a Sloth experience. She went this past summer and I’m so jealous.  Mauve- If you had to kill someone, what instrument (yes, as in the musical kind) would you use?  I mean... You could break a guitar and use its various pieces into other torture devices...The same with a Cello or other string instruments... So I guess a Guitar.... Gray- What animal would you have as a pet if you could have any animal?    Any animal? A Panther. they’re so sleek and murder beans... they’re just big house cats until they rip your face off. Which.. fair. 

Color Asks