Archive of Our Own

“Okay, easy, easy.”

Buck steadies himself, looking back at Ravi as his brain spins. Flint, the old guy they’d just rescued, is sandwiched between them, pressed against the wall. Buck scours the balcony for any sort of escape when the building around them shakes. Smoke from the explosion clouds their vision, the heat and shrapnel souring the air in front of them. He ducks and reaches for his walkie.

“Hey, Cap, any update down there?” He says it as urgently as he can while still feigning calmness.

“I don’t know about down there, but I have an update up here.”

Buck freezes.

It can’t be.

He snaps his head to face Ravi, whose eyes are just as wide as his own probably are. There’s a moment where neither of them says a word before Ravi fumbles for his walkie.

“Eddie?” he says, not breaking eye contact with Buck.

Eddie’s voice crackles through Buck’s receiver. “Eh, was watching the news, had a bit of FOMO. ”

Buck can feel a smile slowly breaking out on his face. Eddie’s here. He’s here. He’s not on a plane back to Texas, he’s not in his ruddy, broken-down house, he’s here. 

He came back.

Buck reaches for his walkie, a warmth rushing into his cheeks. “Uh, where are you?”

“Right in front of you.”

His heart skips. He barely registers Eddie saying, “parking garage across the street”. He hadn’t needed further directions– he’d already found him. Buck would know that silhouette anywhere. Standing on top of the parking garage across from the actively crumbling building, Eddie Diaz dons his turncoat, looking right at home. The sun showers him in a blazing light, as if a spotlight were placed around Eddie just for Buck to find him.

“Gonna take too long to get the ladder up here so I grabbed a line gun off the rig.”

“He’s got a gun?” Flint says, alarmed, head swiveling from Buck to Ravi.

Buck had nearly forgotten he was here.

“A line gun,” Ravi clarifies..

He shakes himself out of the trance, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the figure of Eddie.

“Yeah, uh, we, uh, gotta get down.”

Buck crouches, putting an arm around Flint to bring him down. Ravi follows suit.

“Okay, Eddie. Fire away.”

Not a moment later, a loud clang sounds. A grappling hook appears next to him as the urgency of the situation steadily floods back into his body. He reaches for it, rapidly looping it around the nearest stable pole of sorts that he can find. He’s vaguely aware of Ravi saying something to Flint as he harnesses the old man up, but he’s too focused on securing the line, knotting and pulling it until it’s taut. 

“Okay, Eddie,” Buck says into his walkie, “how we doin’ over there?”

A beat. And then his receiver clicks to life, Eddie’s voice streaming into the open air.

“Ready when you are.”

Buck nods to himself before going to help Ravi situate Flint onto the line. They hook him on, making sure the harness is fastened, and then get ready to send him over.

“Okay, we’re set. On three…” He looks at Ravi, silently communicating an ulterior plan. The two nod in understanding. “One–”

And they push Flint down the line without another word. He bounces up and down as his weight takes him to the parking garage, little yells and screams escaping his mouth as he travels farther away from Buck and Ravi. He makes it to the other building, firefighters slowing him down as they catch him. But there isn’t much time to celebrate.

The building shudders, this one larger than the last. Pieces of the ceiling above them rain down, narrowly missing the two. Buck braces himself as Ravi’s eyes dart all around, frantic.

He’s terrified. Buck can see it. It doesn’t take a genius to see the sheer fear that’s cropped up on Ravi’s face.

“Do you wanna–” Ravi starts, motioning to the line, shaky.

“No, no, no, no,” Buck cuts him off, “just go, Rav! Come on.”

He helps hoist Ravi over the ledge as fast as he can, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“Go, go, go, go, go,” he repeats hurriedly. 

He’s not going to lose anyone today. Not after he almost just lost Bobby in the lab. 

Ravi hesitates for a moment, just a moment, before jumping. Buck attempts to watch, wanting to make sure he makes it back safe, but the building tosses him from his feet. The structure around him is deteriorating fast . Plumes of dust begin to engulf him as he dodges falling debris. He can feel the floor cracking beneath him as he pushes himself back to standing– just in time to see Ravi make it to the other rooftop.

“Come on, Buck!” Eddie’s voice rings out from his receiver, dire and pressing.

Buck doesn’t waste a second. He grabs his harness, hooking it onto the line at lightning speed as the building collapses around him. He swings his legs over the ledge and reaches for his walkie, ready to relay back to Eddie that he’s on his way, he’s coming, he’s almost there.

He’s almost there.

But something shifts. The cement slab beneath him gives out. The building starts to cave in on itself. And a piece of debris heads directly for Buck, cutting through his line and severing his one escape.

Buck tries to grab hold of anything that might save him, anything that might keep him from barreling towards the ground, but everything that he claws at is falling with him. A weightlessness fills his body as he plummets into the abyss below. 

He hears his name being screamed over and over again out of his walkie. There’s nothing he can do.

The last thing he thinks before everything goes dark is just one word, one name.

Eddie.

──────༺༻──────

Eddie remembers the icy chill that had coursed through him when he saw turncoats with the numbers ‘118’ flash on the screen. Standing in his living room– Buck’s living room– he’d gripped the remote for dear life, Pepa’s comments drowned out by the sound of the news reporter's voice. His ears buzzed, the sudden ache to be on the scene tugging at him, like a wound that had not fully healed. He couldn’t just stand there, not when his entire team– his family–were sifting through rubble under a building that teetered like an unstable pile of Jenga blocks. He couldn’t just leave when he knew there was something, anything he could do.

He couldn’t just leave when Buck was in one of those turncoats.

The fear that hit him at the idea of Buck being in danger was unexpected. It wasn’t the prospect of the fear that was unexpected, though– it was the magnitude of it. It swarmed Eddie, sneaking up on him like a shadow, encasing him in a bubble of dread. It bled into his skin, trickling through his veins as his heart beat steadily sped up. It knocked him upside the head, sudden and cold, a wake-up call that Eddie hadn’t known he’d needed. He hadn’t realized he’d been navigating with his eyes closed, unintentionally burying aspects of his life away, terrified at provoking this side of him that had lain dormant for so long.

But it was fear that had forced his hand.

The fear of losing Buck.

Because what if something were to happen to Buck? What if the building finally gave way and collapsed? What if he was trapped? What if, what if, what if–

What if something did happen and Eddie wasn’t there to stop it? Couldn’t fix it? Couldn’t do more?

An echo of a past emergency had flashed in his head. Rain cascading down on them. Buck and Eddie on a ladder. A blinding pain shooting through his body. The wet ground. The ringing in his ears. Turning, looking, realizing. Buck’s limp body hanging. A puppet without its strings. Climbing. Pulling his dead weight. So much rain. Trying to get him back, get him back, get him back. Driving. Wheeling him in. The rain. They said they’d do their best. Their best.

Do more.

Eddie had looked at Pepa, grabbed his turncoats, and rushed out the door without a second thought.

He now watches as Ravi rapidly zooms over on the line, the building in the background coming apart at the seams. Eddie trains his eyes on Ravi before allowing them to dart back to the balcony, locking in on Buck. He’s about to start calling for him when the building trembles again, sending shockwaves of vibrations throughout the area. He catches sight of Buck’s helmet dipping out of view as the smoke obscures any hope Eddie had of keeping an eye on him.

Eddie’s chest tightens, the familiar feeling of anxiety gripping him. His focus vignettes at the edges, the spot where Buck was thrown in the forefront of his vision. He registers Ravi landing beside him, shaken up but alive. He doesn't absorb much else, though, still searching the bare balcony when Buck peeks out, a tiny speck reappearing in the mass destruction. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching for his walkie. 

“Come on, Buck!”

Eddie speeds over to the end of the line, ready to catch Buck, ready to have him back, ready to have him safe.

Ready to tell him he's not leaving.

He feels the line give a slight jolt as Buck attaches his hook, the jostle reverberating through to his fingertips. He can just make out Buck swinging his long legs over the balcony’s edge—or what’s left of it—when a deafening creak fills the air.

It happens in slow motion.

The building, brittle and weak, folds. It folds as easily as a stack of cards left out in the wind, splintering cracks fanning out along the walls until the walls are no more. An avalanche of cement pieces rain down as clouds of smoke mask the scene. He can just make out Buck dangling from the line, the ledge having given out beneath him, when the dust completely covers his view.

And then Eddie feels the line go slack.

No.

Eddie is somewhat aware that he’s screaming for Buck into his walkie. His voice is raw, yelling at the top of his lungs over and over like it’ll change the nightmare that’s happening before him. Hot tears balance at the brim of his lids– he’s not sure if it’s from the dust that seeps into his eyes or the fact that he’s standing here, helpless yet again, just like the lightning strike. It coats his throat, and he chokes on his words, on Buck’s name. He abandons his receiver and just starts yelling into the vacuum of space where the apartment building once stood. He doesn’t know how he’s made it to the edge of the parking lot, but he’s there now, gripping the railing, knuckles white as he just about teeters over the border, because if he can lean over far enough, he can get to Buck. If he can shout loud enough, he can get to Buck. If he just does something –

He feels arms wrap around him, pulling him back from the edge. Eddie wrestles against it because he has to get to Buck, and this is the quickest way, the only way he can see right now. Who cares if it’s not logical– logic isn’t on his mind at the moment. All that’s on his mind is Buck under the rubble, stuck, buried, injured, bleeding, dead.

“No! Buck, no! Buck –”

A silent sob strangles him, rising from the back of his throat to the surface of his lips. He clamps his mouth shut, refusing to let it out, and sags into whoever’s arms have hold of him. Fiery tears stream down his cheeks, but no noise escapes his lips. He stares straight ahead, his mind riddled with a dense fog. The echo of Buck’s smile plays in his head, a film that flickers in and out like a pen slowly running out of ink. After a minute or so, he gains his footing, the arms releasing from around him.

It’s quiet. Eerily quiet.

The building is nothing but a pile of cement blocks and metal bits. The occasional bit of furniture sticks out from the wreckage, the only evidence that life once existed in the now-empty expanse. There’s hardly any resemblance or hint to what the structure once was.

He clicks his walkie, a last resort.

“Buck, sound off.”

Silence.

“I repeat, firefighter Buckley, sound off. ”

Eddie can feel his knees wanting to give out from beneath him. The floor feels like quicksand, ready to pull him under and swallow him whole. He almost wants to let it.

“He… he told me to go first.”

He turns toward the voice, slowly. Ravi stands there, shell-shocked and immobile. His face is devoid of any color, and his stature is stiff with horror. Eyes wide, he looks at Eddie, guilt peppering his face.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He’s scared of what’ll come out if he does. He can’t be angry at Ravi, but god does he want to be– not angry at Ravi in particular, but just angry at something. If anything, he’s angry at Buck. Buck, who always puts everyone else first. Buck, who undervalues his own life.

Buck, who he’s pretty sure he’s in love with.

He wants to scream and curse and yell at the universe for taking Buck from him when he was so close, so close. He’d come back, he was staying, and he was right here.

And Buck was right there.

No. Not this. He’s alive.

Buck is still alive.

Eddie reaches for his walkie.

“I need all available units to assist in search and rescue at the base of the building. We have a firefighter down. Repeat, all available units to assist in search and rescue.”

“ Eddie? ” Bobby’s voice comes through. “ Who’s down there? ”

A beat. Eddie swallows. He can feel everyone watching, eyes burning holes into his body.

“Firefighter Buckley.”

No one on the roof moves, not even Ravi. The silence permeates the air. The firefighters around him stare, pity in their eyes, clearly thinking that the battle’s already been lost, while Ravi slowly comes to, locking eyes with Eddie. There’s concern in them, a question of ‘ Are you sure you wanna do this? Are you sure you want to know? ’, but when Eddie doesn’t move from his spot, Ravi gives him a small nod and begins to head down the parking garage. Everyone else stays put. 

“All units," says Bobby, a slight wobble to his voice, “you heard Diaz. Everyone on deck to assist in search and rescue at the front of the building.”

Eddie waves his arms around, frustrated and a bit manic. “All units mean all units. GO.”

He doesn’t stick around to see if they actually listen, but he is slightly cognizant of footsteps trailing behind him as he sprints down the building. He has to get to Buck because Buck is alive. There’s no other option, no other alternative. He can’t be gone.

He can’t be.

──────༺༻──────

Buck is drowning.

His lungs are heavy, filled with water that he can’t seem to get rid of. The ocean tosses him around, ruthless and unforgiving, a demon in its own right. He tries to find the surface, slashing at the water that surrounds him, but every time he thinks he’s found which way is up, the sea throws him in a new direction, shifting the world before him. His eyes and throat burn with saltwater, and all he can think is to just keep going, keep going, keep going.

Cold air coats his skin as he breaks the barrier of the surface. Relief floods him as he goes to take a breath, gasping for strength–

Nothing. There’s nothing. His lungs are still heavy, completely void of oxygen. Suddenly, he’s floating in an empty cavern, inky and infinite. His chest blossoms with pain, running out of fuel to keep him alive. He claws at his sternum because maybe if he gets it open, he can get some air, and then he’ll be alright, and he’ll get out of here. But he doesn’t know where here is. And it feels like there’s something in his eye, something that’s floating in his peripheral.

He flicks his eyes open.

Buck is drowning.

There’s no water in sight, and yet he’s drowning. He can’t draw a single breath in. He feels a heavy weight resting across his front, unbearable and suffocating. Buck tries to shift his head to see where he is, to assess his situation as quickly as possible before he runs out of air. His neck screams when he turns it, and Buck wants to yell out in agony, too, but there’s no air to support him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His throat starts to hurt, his muscles working overtime to supply his body with oxygen.

He only begins to really panic when he realizes that it’s a giant, cement beam that has him pinned to the spot. He wants to scream for help, wants to shout out for someone, anyone, but he can already feel himself fading, the edges of his vision going fuzzy. He tries to push against it, to at least get some room to breathe or slide out from underneath it, but it’s no use.

In a last-ditch effort, he throws his right hand around, patting the space beside him, searching blindly in the rubble for anything that he can use to leverage the slab off of him. His fingers graze a metal rod, wide and barely in grasp– but just enough. Buck quickly grabs it and maneuvers himself so that he can wedge the metal beneath the beam, raising it just enough.

It’s almost painful how quickly the oxygen surges into his lungs. It floods him, filling every crevice. His shallow breaths deepen, the sharp tinges of air pinging the sides of his body as his vision clears, spots still at the corners of his view. He lies there, allowing himself a moment to regain consciousness.

That's when the real pain sets in.

A smattering of hurt courses through his skull, a wetness dripping down the side of his face. He goes to bring his left hand up to wipe what he thinks is blood from his eyes, when a fire surges through his entire arm. He yells out, wishing he could rip his shoulder out of his socket. Buck glances down to his side and swallows hard. 

His left arm is mangled and twisted, seemingly crushed by the beam that had previously stolen his breath. It’s dark, hardly any light shining through what little cracks the structure has left, so he can’t quite see just how bad the damage is. He feels for his flashlight, still hooked on him, and clicks it. It flickers on, somehow still operational. Lying under the now propped-up slab, Buck tries to twist himself into a more manageable position, one where he can assess his injuries more thoroughly, when his vision goes white with a wash of all-consuming agony.

It stems from his gut, slithering up his side and wrapping his entire body in a hot bath of torture. The pain is sickening, a sharp and unforgiving sensation, like a knife that’s sliced repeatedly into every open muscle. His breath catches in his throat as he fights to stay awake, and he tilts his head down to find the source of pain.

Shit.

The edge of a metal pole sticks out from his stomach. It’s slightly curved at the top and jagged, fixing Buck to the floor.

That’s not supposed to go there.

He finally gets the idea to call in on his walkie, but when he uses his good hand to reach for it, it’s nothing but a flattened piece of unusable tech. He wants to laugh at the situation– what else is there to do? But the laugh turns into a cry, slowly morphing into a scream of desperation.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello!”

Not a sound.

“Please, hey– hey, please, I’m down here! I’m down here, I’m stuck,” he heaves. “I’m stuck. I can’t move. I can’t…”

His cries peter out as he accepts the fact that no one can hear him. No one’s coming to help. It hits him that he’s going to die down here. He’s going to die down here with nothing to show for it. He’s going to die down here, never having gotten to say all the things he wanted to say, especially to–

No. He can’t. He doesn't want to think that.

Instead, another thought sits in his mind, sounding off at the edges of his brain– that at least it’s him. If anyone had to die in an emergency, he's the best choice. He doesn't leave anyone behind; Maddie has Chim and Jee with a new baby on the way, Hen has Karen, Denny, and Mara, Bobby has Athena and the new life that they're building, Ravi has his family, and Eddie…

Eddie has Christopher. Eddie has his own life. Eddie has Texas.

Eddie doesn’t need him. None of them do. He's the best bet.

As the pain pulls him back under into the infinite night, Buck gives in to the fact that his life is going to end just the way it began: forgotten and all alone.

──────༺༻──────

Eddie has been shot before– three times while on active duty and once while standing in the middle of the street, staring at Buck, gasping for something to say. The latter had been more painful than the three shots combined, though– the look on Buck’s face had made it so.

He remembers the hot, searing pain that had pierced through his shoulder. He remembers the feel of the asphalt on his face, rough and jagged along the soft of his cheek. He remembers the darkness that had formed at the edges of his vision, the light of day slowly turning to endless night.

He remembers a hand reaching out, pulling him back to life.

He remembers an ocean of blue speckled with tears of red, the smell of copper tainting his nose.

He remembers a voice, desperate and pleading.

“Just hang on, Eds. Just hang on .”

He remembers it all.

And yet, somehow, this pain hurts worse. Buck, silent and buried beneath thousands of pounds of rubble, was a new type of affliction altogether. It squeezes at his heart, twisting until it’s wrung out, leaving him with a feeling of numbness and a blazing drive to find Buck. It pricks at the tips of his eyes, a stream threatening to spill over if he even dares to stop moving, to stop doing, to stop looking.

He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

Eddie watches as thermal imaging equipment is put together at the base of the building. Athena directs the traffic of the chaos as he stands next to Bobby, the two of them looking at a rough map of the apartment complex. Hen, Chim, Ravi, and a few others circle around them. He’s trying to be patient—really, he is—but listening to Bobby explain the protocols when all Eddie wants to do is rush into the building has proved excruciating.

“The 133 has set up thermal imaging scanners so that we can pinpoint where people are trapped in the building. Right here is where it’s been deemed stable enough to enter,” Bobby says, pointing towards what once was a wall.

That’s nowhere close to where Buck would be, he thinks to himself.

“Bobby– Cap, that’s gonna take us forever to get to the balcony where–”

“It’s the quickest and safest path,” Bobby cuts him off, his voice strained. Eddie catches Hen’s eyes, concerned and sharp, laser-focused on him. Chim wears a similar expression, whereas Ravi seems fixed on the blueprint, an air of guilt still surrounding him. Eddie goes to say more, but Bobby keeps talking.

“We’ll make our way through and search for survivors.” Bobby turns to face Eddie. “And we’ll do it carefully,” he says, pointedly.

He clamps his jaw shut. His mind is reeling with images of Buck injured, of Buck yelling out, of Buck dying. He wants to kick down the remnants of the building and dig Buck out with his bare hands because this is taking too long, far too long. The more they stand around and plan, the less their chances are of making this operation a rescue. He’s trying so hard to concentrate, to be optimistic and do this logically– but logic has never been a factor he considered when it came to Buck. He’s slowly starting to realize that.

“Once inside, we’ll fan out. Hen, I want you to stay out here and triage patients as they’re found. Chimney and Ravi, you guys will split off first once we’re in. Eddie, you’re with me. Everyone else, choose a path and file behind.”

Eddie takes that as his go-ahead and puts his helmet on, shoving down his visor. He turns on his heel, medical supplies swinging at his side as he starts at a jog. He hardly hears Bobby yelling the official “ Move, go, go! ”, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The makeshift entrance is not far from where they’ve set up their tents, but for some reason, the road he’s running on seems to keep getting longer. It grows like tendrils that refuse to give in, coiling around his chest as his feet slam the pavement. He’s so close— Buck is so close—when he feels a hand grip his arm.

“Eddie.”

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s breathing until Bobby stops him. He swings around.

“What, Bobby?” It comes out harsher than anticipated, his words a newly sharpened stake.

But Bobby doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react, doesn’t even show that he’s digested the tone at all. Instead, he reaches out his other arm and lays them both to the sides of Eddie’s shoulders. He gives him a small, comforting squeeze and just looks at him. Waiting.

Eddie deflates. “I have to get in there,” he says softly.

“I know.”

“I can’t– I can’t lose another person. Chris can’t lose another person.” Eddie shifts his eyes away. “Especially not him.”

“I know. And we’re almost there.”

“I just…” Tears start to form again. All he hears now are his Dad’s words that “crying isn’t manly”, that “he should be embarrassed”, that “tears are a weakness". He chokes them back, wanting this moment to be over so he can get to Buck. He needs to get to Buck.

“I can’t lose him. I can’t.” A small pause.  “He always does… this– where he puts everyone else first and leaves himself for last. I need– I just, I need him to know that he’s first to me– and Chris. I need him to be okay. I need him to walk out of there and be okay because I–”

He stops himself abruptly, scared of what he was about to admit out loud. His breath hitches in the back of his throat.

“Eddie.”

Eddie finally looks back up. A kindness colors Bobby’s face, a knowing look crossing him as he says the next two words.

“I know .”

There’s a sadness in Bobby’s eyes. Bobby, who’s like a father– no, is a father to Buck. Bobby, who’s lost his own children. Bobby, who can’t bear to lose another.

Eddie doesn’t know how he’s so calm about this. He must be going insane on the inside, his synapses firing and muscles aching to get to Buck just as much as he is. And yet, Bobby’s steady on his feet, the only indication of sorrow apparent to those who really know him.

Eddie nods. “We’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” Bobby echoes.

An understanding having passed between the two, they disappear into the darkness of the wreckage.

──────༺༻──────

Buck is having a hard time staying awake.

He lies immobile on the ground, the beam still over him as what's left of the walls seems to close in. He keeps fading in and out, the twilight of sleep much more welcoming than the cruel sting that accompanies the small sliver of daylight. He’s given up on shouting for help, his mouth scratchy and dry like sandpaper has been stapled to the back of his throat. He can’t taste anything but dust and copper, the blight of blood mixing in. His head throbs incessantly, and he begs for sleep to take him again.

Compared to when he first woke, he can now feel the pole in his side far too much. The pain sprouts from it, embedding itself into his ribs, his stomach, his legs. It buries its way through him like a parasite overtaking his body, leaving him as but a passenger to the pain.

He’s tired. So tired. His mind is blank and his eyelids heavy, and he’s just so, so tired.

The only thing that keeps waking him up is the thought of what could’ve been.

Eddie’s straight. Eddie’s staying in Texas. Eddie’s not his.

But what if he had been? What if there was a chance at all?

The images play out in his head, a movie of sorts to accompany what he figures are his last moments on Earth. 

Eddie, hair slightly tousled and unkempt, half-awake on the pillow next to him. A small smile laden with sleep would paint his face, and Buck would just stare, in awe that someone could be so perfect. A flash and they’re in the kitchen, Eddie making them coffee as Buck scrambles eggs. A small peck on the cheek, a little wink. Chris walking in, a grin so wide the neighbors would probably feel it. Eddie would mess up Chris’ hair, and Buck would just stare, because who would’ve thought this could be his life. Another jump, and they’re in the car, just having dropped off Chris at school. Music blasting, Eddie and Buck teasing the other for their song choices. They’d steal glances at each other, both just staring, a fondness seeping into each look.

He wonders if there’s a universe where all of this is true.

Buck’s not sure if he regrets never saying anything or welcomes it. He’s saved himself from humiliation and obvious rejection, after all. But there’s a voice in the back of his head—a small, piercing voice—that whispers otherwise.

He thinks he hears people in the distance– but he chalks it up to his imagination. He must be reaching the stage of hallucination now. That’s fine. He’ll hallucinate a life where his parents love him, where his sister never got hurt, where his body wasn’t one that was just made for parts.

He’ll hallucinate a life where Eddie could be his. Where they’re a family with Chris.

Yeah. That’s nice.

He’ll do that.

──────༺༻──────

“This one’s a black tag.”

It was dim and suffocating inside the rubble, the air thin and the space to navigate minimal. 

They’d only found one survivor so far– this was the second person they’d had to black tag. Each time Eddie had seen a bit of a limb sticking out, his heart leaped. The first time, he was hopeful, a muscular arm jutting out between some cement slabs, waving to get their attention. But the hope quickly waned as Eddie realized the arm was devoid of any of Buck’s tattoos. The second time, he was terrified. The limbs were so still, so lifeless. He was thankful when they uncovered the body that it wasn’t Buck, but immediately felt guilty for even thinking that.

This time, when he bent down to feel for a pulse and got nothing, his anxiety skyrocketed. It seemed the deeper they got, the less likely they were to find someone alive. And they hadn’t reached Buck yet. They had trekked pretty deep in and still hadn’t reached Buck.

He was trying to be optimistic about their chances– really, he was. But with every step he took, with every cautious glance from Bobby, his blood turned colder with fear. He didn’t know what he’d do if they found Buck– when they found Buck, he was already gone. He wouldn’t be, though. He’s still alive. He’s still okay. There’s no timeline where Buck isn’t here, isn’t with him. So, Buck has to be alive because he said so, and he won’t accept any other alternative.

Eddie stands up, nearly hitting his head on the low, pointed slab above him. He turns back to face Bobby, who gives him a small nod to keep going. Eddie trudges forward, his feet heavy but his mind determined. His sense of direction is lost to him, the once apartment building now a labyrinth, but he knows that they’ve got to be getting close. They’ve got to be.

There’s a small clearing up ahead that they start heading toward. It seems like a good place to reconvene and decide which way they want to keep going– Eddie knows where he’s going to suggest. But as they head there, something catches his eye.

It’s quick, just a little glint in the corner of his eye, but it stops him dead in his tracks.

To his right, between cracks of cement, a light shines. It leaks out into the small cavern Eddie stands in, luring him in. Eddie doesn’t hesitate. He dashes towards it, not saying a word, and Bobby trails behind him. He doesn’t question what Eddie’s doing because he’s seen the light now, too. There’s someone there.

Eddie pulls at the debris, tearing at drywall and brushing away shattered glass. Bobby is next to him, helping, and the crew behind them readies their tools.

It’s only when he catches a glimpse of a turncoat on the other side of the rubble that Eddie completely ditches his mask of level-headedness.

It’s him.

It’s Buck.

“Buck!” Eddie yells at the top of his lungs. He abandons his medical bag. “Buck, I’m coming!”

There’s no movement. Nothing to show that he’s heard them. Nothing to show that he’s alive.

“Buck! Can you hear me!?”

He’s said these words before. He’s been here before.

“Buck! ”

He claws at the debris, pulling each stone apart like a wild animal. He has to get through, he has to get to him. He doesn’t care how– he just has to. He feels a slice of hot pain cut through his glove, but he hardly notices. He tosses each piece to the ground, digging until the gap is big enough for him to fit through.

Eddie rushes forward. “Buck–”

His words catch on his lips as he sees Buck in full. He skids to a stop, his breath leaving him as he scans the reality in front of him.

Buck lies there, stiff and pale. A beam hovers above him, held up by a measly metal rod. A gash tarnishes his face, blood dripping down his forehead from it. His left arm is twisted beyond recognition, jutting out at all the wrong angles, and Eddie just wants to fix it all, to make it all go away. Then his eyes travel down to Buck’s stomach.

A sharp piece of rebar protrudes out from Buck, trapping him to the ground, making escape impossible even if he’d wanted to try. It curves at the top, resembling a scythe, and a chill runs down Eddie’s spine.

No.

He falls to his knees, practically crawling the rest of the way to Buck. He cradles Buck’s head in his hands as his eyes frantically dart across his face, searching for any sign of life. He wants to shake him, to will his eyes open, to see that he’s here, he’s here, he’s here.

He’s here and he’s not leaving. Not without him.

“Buck, please, I need you to wake up.” Eddie’s voice is quiet but raw with emotion. “I need you to wake up. I can’t do this without you. Not any of it– not alone.”

Eddie’s vaguely aware of someone placing a C-collar around Buck’s neck. He clutches Buck’s face in his hands, a desperate plea as feverish tears stream down his cheeks.

“ Please. ”

A small groan escapes Buck’s lips. Then his eyes flick open to slits, like he can’t bear to lift his lids further.

“Eddie?..” Buck slurs, Eddie’s name a whisper on his tongue.

“Buck, hey, hey,” Eddie says, scrambling to move one hand behind the man’s head and the other to brush damp curls from his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

“You’re… You’re here.” There’s a tinge of disbelief in his voice, and it stabs at Eddie’s heart.

Why wouldn’t he be here?

“Of course I’m here. Of course I am.” He brings his hand down to Buck’s cheek again, drawing small circles against his marred skin. Blood is all over Eddie’s fingers now, but he doesn’t care. He hears movement behind him– someone yells to get the saw, another hurries to get a backboard. Eddie should help, should do something more than sit here and stare at Buck, but he can’t find it in himself to move. He’s as much stuck to this spot as Buck is.

Buck’s breaths are shallow, each inhale seeming to bear a heavier weight than the last.

“It… it hurts…” he gasps out, his voice barely audible.

“I know, I know,” Eddie says, “but we’re gonna get you out and get you home, yeah?”

“Home?..” Buck gives him a small, tired smile. “With you…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide at that, but he doesn’t give himself time to process. “Yes– yeah, with… with me. And Chris. He’s waiting for you back at the house.”

Buck tries to give a little nod in response, but winces in pain, the movement far too much. Eddie glances back at Bobby, who’s directing people left and right. They lock eyes, and the worry on Bobby’s face is apparent.

This is not good.

“Okay, Buck,” Eddie says, his voice shakier than normal, “here’s what we’re gonna do. They’re gonna lift you just a little, the smallest bit, so that they can cut you out of here, okay?”

Buck just mouths the word ‘okay’ in response. He’s losing steam, and they’re losing time.

“It’s gonna– it’s gonna hurt a lot, so squeeze my hand, yell as loud as you need, do whatever you want, but you have to stay awake. You got that?”

He mouths ‘okay’ again. Eddie moves his hand from Buck’s cheek to his side, folding their fingers together. Suddenly, Buck opens his eyes fully, like he’s realizing Eddie’s actually here for the first time.

“You… you came back.”

Eddie knits his brows together because what a silly statement that is. If he could, he would never leave Buck. He’d hold him forever and make everything that was wrong right. He’d spell out his name in the stars and arrange constellations of his hands. He’d change the color of the ocean so that it would always match the blue of his eyes.

He’d do anything for him. Anything.

“Of course I did. I always will.” 

Eddie keeps his eyes trained on Buck, terrified to pull away for even a minute. He wants to memorize the shape of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, because now that he’s realized his feelings, he doesn’t want to let them go. He wants to etch the image of Buck into his brain– beautiful, kind, and goofy– but the image in front of him is mangled and full of pain. He hates that it took him so long to see it, to accept it, and that it took Buck barely clinging to life to be the catalyst. 

“Okay,” Bobby says, a distant voice behind him, “on three. One, two…”

A scream pierces the air, sharp and guttural. It eclipses the sound of the saw, running through Eddie’s body. He loses feeling in his hand as Buck grips it, but he doesn’t care, he can’t care, not when Buck is writhing in pain at his knees.

The scream keeps going, endless and harrowing. It strikes Eddie over and over, like he’s being shot repeatedly, old wounds reopening from the army, from the sniper. He keeps hold of the back of Buck’s head, flitting his eyes across his face. But Buck’s not there– all Eddie sees is pain. It stains every feature, his nose contorted, and his eyes squeezed shut. Buck tilts his head back further into Eddie’s hand as if to shake off the hurt that surges through him.

The saw quiets. They slide the backboard under him. 

And Buck goes silent.

Eddie watches as his eyes turn lazy, unable to focus as they lift the blackboard. Then, his lids begin to shut.

“Hey, no, no, no, no,” Eddie starts, frantic. “We agreed you would stay awake, remember?”

There’s no indication that Buck’s heard him. He’s fading right before Eddie’s eyes.

“Buck, please,” he begs, a quiver seeping through.

Buck sputters out a cough, blood dripping down his chin, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. He drops Eddie’s hand, his own falling limp.

His chest stops rising.

“Buck– no, Buck, wake up! Cap! ”

“Hold it!” Bobby says, stopping the crew from moving them anymore. He can hear the distress weaving through Bobby’s voice, and yet he continues to lead them with incomparable fortitude.

Eddie places his fingers on Buck’s neck and waits. And waits. And waits.

But there’s nothing.

“He doesn’t have– there’s no pulse!” he yells.

The backboard is lowered, and Eddie readies himself to start compressions, the concept of Buck being gone not one that’s fathomable. He’s got his hands locked, his arms out, and is nearly over Buck’s sallow, lifeless body when he feels arms wrap around him, tearing him away from the scene.

“No– stop, no! What are you doing–”

“Eddie.” It’s Bobby.

“Bobby, please, no,” he watches as the other firefighters start compressions, placing d-fib pads on Buck’s chest, “I need to help– I need to help him, please–”

“You’re too close to this, Eddie,” Bobby says, his arms tightening around him. His own face is tear-streaked, too.

“No, I can’t– I can’t lose him,” he chokes out, the cries starting to overtake his words. He struggles against Bobby, fighting tooth and nail to get back to Buck.

“Clear!” 

Buck’s chest lurches up. They check for a pulse.

“Nothing. Again!”

“Bobby–”

“Come here,” he says, folding Eddie into a hug. He resists at first, not wanting to give in, only wanting to keep kicking, to keep trying to make his way to Buck. But the quiet sobs fill him, and he falls into Bobby, tucking his face into the shoulder of the man who has fathered him more than his own dad.

“Clear!”

Eddie hears the shock of the defibrillator. He keeps his face buried, petrified that, if he turns around, this nightmare might come true. Maybe he’s just destined to lose people– Shannon, his troop, and now Buck.

“We’ve got a pulse!”

He whips around, Bobby’s arms releasing him. Bobby bolts forward, rounding up the team and herding them out at lightning speed, while Eddie sprints to Buck’s side. He watches the shallow rise and fall of his chest as they carry him out through the maze of debris.

He stays by his side the entire time. He refuses to take his eyes off of him, slotting Buck’s hand into his as they ride in the ambulance. It’s only when the doctors take Buck on the gurney, when they’re just about forced to pry Eddie from his fingers, that he’s left to grapple with the onslaught of emotions whirling in his heart. He watches from the lobby of the hospital, deja vu fluttering across his mind, as they wheel Buck into surgery.

Do more.

Do more.

Eddie stands there, the echo of Buck’s screams still playing in his ears.

──────༺༻──────

It’s dark.

Quiet.

Nothing for miles.

A pressure closes in on him, heavy and unrelenting.

He’s tired. Exhausted, actually.

But something breaks through the barrier. Something familiar.

“I need you to wake up.”

It’s garbled, as if it’s underwater. Nevertheless, he reaches for it.

“I can’t do this without you. Not any of it– not alone.”

Eddie.

“Please. ”

Light floods in. A watery image of Eddie appears through the slits of his lids.

He must be dreaming. What a nice dream.

Maybe, in this dream, he can go home with Eddie.

An explosion of hurt radiates through him. The dream collapses. 

He’s sure he said more to this version of Eddie, but he can’t quite recall what.

A loud scream reverberates through his body. He doesn’t know whose it is. 

Maybe it’s his own.

The darkness reclaims him.

──────༺༻──────

The monitor beats a steady rhythm in the sterile room. Eddie sits in a small chair tucked close to the side of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clutched under his chin. Dark circles rim the skin under his eyes, badges of sleeplessness that grow with every hour.

It’s been two days since they’d dug Buck out from the rubble. Two days since he’d last heard his voice. Two days since he realized just how deeply in love with Buck he was.

It had always been there, he knows that now. It’d just manifested itself in different ways– giving Buck the key to his house almost immediately after meeting him, shared dinners with Christopher like a family, the goddamn will. He had been blinded by his own hurdles, too scared to go against his upbringing. Now, a burden was lifted from his shoulders– the one of having to pretend.

But while one weight left, another took its place.

He watches as Buck breaths small, even breaths. The majority of his body is wrapped in dressings, save for his good arm and parts of his legs. Casts decorate his limbs, and needles poke out of his left arm, holding the fragments of his bones in place. Shades of purple and yellow dot his skin, pinkish lines of scars accompanying them. Various IVs and wires snake out of him, keeping him from wasting away.

He looks so far from the Buck he’s grown to know.

Eddie rubs his face, tearing his eyes away from the bed.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he starts, “but I’m going to talk to you anyway.”

The heart monitor plays in the background, a metronome to the song of Buck’s life.

“I remember the first day we met. Man, you hated my guts,” he says, chuckling. And then, softer, “I’m glad that didn’t last long. You became my other half– I mean, people started hyphenating our last names together in the firehouse, for Christ’s sake. Come to think of it, that should’ve… been a sign.”

He swallows. Hard.

“It should’ve been a sign of how much I care about you. I mean, of course, I care about you a lot– but, just, this is different. This is– man, this is hard. I’m not sure if it’d be easier if you were able to respond, though.” A pause. “I wouldn’t mind it if you did. Right now. If you just piped in.”

He waits. Nothing but even breaths. Eddie hangs his head.

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I know. It was a long shot.” He can feel pressure building behind his eyes, and he presses his palms to his lids before wiping his nose. He takes a deep breath.

“What I’m trying to say is… God, Buck, what I’m trying to say is that you matter to me. You matter to me so much, more than I ever thought anyone could besides Christopher. And you matter to him, too. You matter to us. You’re family. And family comes first, so please, just this once, put yourself first. Put yourself first and come back to us. Fight to be here, to stay. Because…”

Eddie’s voice starts to waver, but he pushes through.

“Because I need you. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone. I just– I can’t imagine what life would be like without you– I don’t want to. So you need to stay, you need to come back, because you’re not allowed to leave. You’re not allowed to go. You can’t go. You just can’t .”

Tears are running down his face now. He reaches for Buck’s good hand, clutching it in his own.

“Please. Stay.” 

Eddie brings Buck’s hand to his cheek, resting his face on it.

“I love you. ”

The monitor drones on, the continuous beats filling the void of silence. The air buzzes with an emptiness akin to what his heart carries. Eddie just sits there, eyes closed, Buck’s hand to his cheek.

And he prays.

He prays for the first time in years.

He doesn’t really know who he does it to, and he’s not sure he really believes in a higher power anymore– a higher power could’ve prevented this. Nevertheless, he prays.

And either God’s decided to clock into work at the most humorous time or Eddie’s going to have to start going back to Church—highly unlikely—because, right then, he hears the rustle of sheets in front of him. He picks his head up, opening his eyes.

And he finds a set of sharp sapphire blue ones staring right back at him.

“Eddie?” Buck croaks.

──────༺༻──────

Everything hurts.

His first coherent thought in who knows how long is that everything hurts.

His head aches, his shoulders throb, and handfuls of stings litter his frame. But it’s a lucid kind of hurt, one that ebbs and flows through his veins, his bones shifting as he slowly comes up for air. 

Someone’s talking. It’s still muddled, but not as much as before.

“You’re not allowed to go. You can’t go. You just can’t,” it says.

Eddie. He’s still here, still at his side. A new fight roars through Buck, and he starts to claw his way through the heaviness because Eddie’s here, he’s still here, and that’s all he needs.

“Please. Stay.” 

He’s trying. He really is trying. He kicks off the curse of sleep, treading each wave as it comes. 

“I love you.”

At those three words, a warmth rushes over his body, instilling him with new life. He floats up, up, and out—out of the darkness, out of the heaviness, out of the tight grip of death.

Buck’s eyes flutter open.

It’s bright, almost too bright. Everything’s a blur in front of him, and the light pierces his skull. He scrunches his eyes, his face sore, and tries opening them again. It takes him a little bit to adjust—he’s not sure how long—but when he does, he becomes aware of his hand being held. Buck shifts in the bed, turning to his right, where he finds Eddie Diaz sitting, clutching his hand and murmuring something incoherent under his breath.

That image doesn’t last long, though– Eddie must’ve heard him move. He stops mumbling and slowly, cautiously, picks his head up. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at him wide-eyed, so Buck speaks first.

“Eddie?” he croaks.

“Oh– Buck, oh my god.” The relief on Eddie’s face is immediate. He surges forward but then stops himself, dropping Buck’s hand. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

There’s a smile now on Eddie’s face, his eyes glistening in the light– but there’s also apparent exhaustion scattered across his features.

“I’ve been better,” he responds groggily, “but I bet I could go toe-to-toe with Chimney now. Ya know, rebar .” He attempts to wiggle his eyebrows.

Eddie snorts. “Good to see you didn’t lose your sense of humor.” Then he quiets and starts fidgeting with his hands. 

“Hey, whatever you heard when you were, ya know–” he says, motioning to Buck as a whole, “just, uh, ignore it.”

And that has to be one of the most ridiculous things Eddie’s ever said. Buck might be hopped up on drugs a little, sure. But he knows what he heard.

“You love me.” He says it breathlessly without hesitation, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Eddie laughs, deflecting. It’s a sound so harmonious you’d think the angels themselves had gifted him that laugh. 

“You’re such an idiot,” Eddie says between grins, and Buck can’t tell if he’s saying it to himself or Buck. But Eddie stops when he sees Buck still staring at him, mouth somewhat agape, face soft. They stare at each other, neither speaking as years of yearning bubble up in the space between.

“I love you, too.”

Buck says it hardly above a whisper, his voice still hoarse.

There’s a moment where neither of them moves. They stay frozen, terrified of breaking this fantasy. But then, Eddie’s slipping his hand behind Buck’s head, leaning forward ever so slightly. He locks eyes with Buck, stalling, hesitation written on his face.

Buck closes the space between them.

Their lips collide, melting into each other like missing puzzle pieces. Stars burst as they’re tugged into each other’s gravitational pull, swirling through space and time. Galaxies mold, and new universes form as their breath passes from one mouth to the other. The hesitation that once separated them fades away in an instant, their lips dancing together in tandem. There’s no doubt in his mind that this is it, that this is what he’s been waiting for. This is home.

It’s a kiss like he’s never experienced.

It’s a kiss that can heal all wounds.

When they pull apart, neither can seem to get a word out. So, instead, they just smile and hold each other tight—lord knows they’re never letting the other go. Eddie draws circles up and down Buck’s arm, their foreheads touching, pulled together like magnets.

They stay like that for a while. Buck knows that he needs to call a doctor in soon, and that everyone is going to flood into his room like maniacs in no time. But, for now, he just wants to live in this moment with Eddie. He just wants to stay here, soaking in the comfort that is Eddie’s body next to his and the knowledge that he loves him. He shifts his head, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face, his tousled hair, his tired grin, even the circles under his eyes. He takes it all in.

And he’s more sure than ever about one thing:

Eddie is his home.