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The thing with bad days is that they start off like any normal day.
Whether it be a bad shift at work or just a bad day where things go wrong. And when you consider a job as a first responder, bad days usually bring with it more than a printer jamming or a network going down.
Bad days mean people dying.
Not being able to save someone in time.
Not being fast enough or just turning up too late.
But that’s when you work a shift, not when you’ve got a day off to spend with your favourite nine-year-old. Where you should be the furthest from the doom and gloom which comes with the job, as you can’t save everyone.
That’s how it happened with the day of the tsunami.
How the day had turned out bleak before Eddie forced him out his apartment, dropping Christopher off to try and lift his spirits somewhat. He’d actually had fun.
Course he did, he was with Christopher.
Then the wave hit, and things just went from bad to potentially fatal in nothing more than the snap of your fingers. Leaving devastation in its wake.
Devastation they’re still healing from.
It took a long time before Buck stopped blaming himself for that day. To truly understand that he wasn’t at fault, since he had no idea something like that would happen. No matter how good you are, you can’t predict a natural disaster.
But they’d survived, even with the odds stacked against them, and despite Buck getting separated from Christopher in the process.
He should’ve done more.
That’s the part he still refuses to forgive himself for, that he lost Chris.
He promised himself that nothing like that would ever happen again, that he’d go to such lengths to prevent that from happening, because he can’t lose that kid ever again. It hurt bad enough to last him a lifetime.
That’s what makes it a bad day.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
As a first responder, days off are treated like a godsend.
Working long and tiring shifts, it’s not only something to look forward to, but something to revel in.
Having the ability to lie in, spend time with your friends and family or just relax and do whatever the hell you want to do.
Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves his days off as he’s able to have that little bit longer in bed, but apart from that, he usually finds himself not knowing what to do with himself.
Maybe that’s why he decides to surprise not only Carla but Christopher.
Nothing better than spending the day at the park with his favourite Diaz. Not having to worry about what they’re going to do because he can rely on his best bud to do that, since Christopher always has an idea of where to go and what to do for them.
Little pleasures in life.
He should’ve known good things never last.
Not for him.
The roaring of the engine rips through the constant sound of children playing like ice cold water washing over you. A shock to the system leaving you stunned and unable to do nothing but experience it all, like sitting in the passenger seat to a car crash.
All you can do is watch.
Zoning in on the sudden interruption automatically, Buck feels tension surge through his system alongside the adrenaline the moment he clocks the black panelled van speeding into the park.
It’s ironic to think that, at one point in his life, he’d thrived in moments like these. So used to them that he barely reacted in shock, because it’s what he was trained for. Just focused on what needed to be done to stay alive, to keep his team alive.
That’s all he had to worry about at the end of the day, to stay alive.
Having to deal with situations taking you by complete surprise but having to account for them anyway. Having to expect the unexpected that would try to kill you in the worst ways possible.
But there’s a difference to being in a warzone with a team at your back equipped to fight off threats, to being in the middle of a children’s park with some masked thugs jumping out of a van, rushing towards you.
Also, when he has Christopher to worry about.
Despite everything at play, one of the only thoughts still remaining in his mind is that some things truly never die.
He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
It’s always good to be prepared, so nothing ever takes you by surprise, but there’s a fine line between prepared and paranoid.
The other thought being like hell is he about to allow Christopher to be snatched up and kidnapped.
To even think of Christopher having to experience something like that again, after finally having healed somewhat from the tsunami.
Unacceptable.
It makes him nauseous.
He’d fought like hell during the tsunami and it’s no different here, there’s just no massive wave or healing injury to stop him from going all out.
Nothing’s taking Christopher away from him again.
Here’s the thing.
Buck knows how to fight, not only has he been trained for it, but he’s been in enough fights over the years to know exactly what he’s doing. He knows how to take care of himself, to watch his own six, and he knows where and how to hit them where it hurts.
To make sure they go down.
Knows the places to hit to take them down completely and not have to worry about them getting back up for a while.
He just hates his own knowledge.
He understands it’s kept him safe for so many years, and he’s appreciative of it, but it doesn’t stop him from hating that those thoughts still live in his mind. That, when needed, he’d be more than capable of defending himself, regardless of the situation.
He doesn’t like having to fight because it makes him remember where he came from before he became a firefighter. The things he’d had to do because there wasn’t any other options available at the time.
But everything’s so much different when you’re fighting whilst also trying to keep your best friend’s kid safe at the same time. It’s along the lines of it being your own kid you’re defending, because it still hits in the same places, because you know this kid personally. You know what it’ll do to not only you but everyone you know if you’re not able to keep this kid safe.
He’s already experienced it once.
He doesn’t know if he could ever face Eddie if he let it happen again.
But he manages it, with difficulty mind you, but he manages it. He always did, before.
He was always good at improvising on the fly, finding new ways that not only worked but were effective. It’s one of the few things he implements in his job as a firefighter, as a first responder, whose job it is to keep people alive.
He’s used to having to split his concentration, focus on multiple different things at the same time, to multi-task. Whether it be looking after himself in the field as well as his partner, while keeping an eye out for any debris or falling objects that’ll injure them, or just something out of the ordinary.
So, when it comes to keeping an eye on Christopher and keeping him behind him at a distance to not accidentally injure him, whilst also keeping an eye on the thugs before him and fighting them off, he does it.
And he does it well.
Defends himself against the kicks and punches flying his way. Against the thugs that try to double, even triple-team him to gain the upper hand. Let’s loose a couple of his own jabs to keep the men on their toes. Using their own momentum against them.
Using everything he can, to his advantage.
He doesn’t think too hard on how he’s having to fight again, to employ his skills with hand-to-hand combat against multiple perps at once, because Christopher’s life is on the line.
He just acts.
Simple as.
Nothing more. Considering if it’s a choice between Christopher being taken and his own discomfort with his own knowledge of self-defence, because he knows how deep it truly runs, there’s not a decision to make.
Considering that would mean needing to choose between the two.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t fully notice how the three thugs try their best to distract him, even placing themselves in a way to disguise the movements of the fourth as he sneaks around Buck’s side. Trying to stay as slow as possible but still at a speed to get the critical hit in while he has the opportunity.
Doesn’t notice until he feels something sharp in the back of his neck.
Doesn’t notice until the heavy waves of pure panic flood his system.
Constant waves rocking through him, trapping him in a vortex of his own emotions, not letting him escape. Nausea rising in his throat, body locked in a panic as his hand clamps over the needle protruding from the flesh of his neck.
Trying to utilise the moment of panic they’d all banked on; the men swarm him. Relentless and without mercy, aiming for the heavy hits to do some damage whilst they had such an opening, and hits were landing. Buck’s body slowing down, unable to keep up with the pace of the blows, the drug taking a hold and dragging him under.
Like a crocodile locking it’s jaws on it’s prey.
This is why he always hated being drugged, the distorted effect as his senses went crazy, abandoning him as the men before him just became blurs.
But if Buck was one thing, it was stubborn.
Gritting his teeth, in the face of his attackers and the nausea rising in the back of his throat, Buck instead concentrated on the feeling of his anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
Gritting his teeth, both in the face of his attackers and against the nausea rising in the back of his throat, Buck turned his concentration to something else.
Clinging onto it with reckless abandon.
Clinging to the feeling bubbling away with a fury in the pit of his stomach. Churning his stomach in a way that, if he didn’t know any better, he’d fear for the reappearance of everything he’d consumed that day.
Looking back, Buck will struggle with the concept of being helpless as he witnessed the men drag Christopher away from Buck. Watching as they swept him clean off his feet, hustling him away to the van the moment they had the kid in their grasp.
Struggle with the concept of not being able to do a single thing to stop it.
Like the tsunami all over again.
Of knowing that there wasn’t a single thing he could’ve done.
The minute they shot the dart, they’d won, they’d overpowered him. Simple as that. He couldn’t have fought against the effects of the drug more than he did. There’s only so much a human body can take, even one as experienced as his own.
He’s only human.
The moments before losing consciousness were that of a nightmare.
There’s no other way to put it.
Having to listen to Christopher’s cries, to his desperate pleading for Buck to save him, the raw fear ringing out worse than a gunshot. Doing more damage in the process than a bullet could’ve ever managed.
His own desperation moving his body in ways he’ll never know until he’d watch a video of the entire ordeal. Those looking on recording the entire exchange as was the way most people thought when witnessing something like that, prioritising their own safety but ensuring evidence of the matter was gained.
He doesn’t notice when he lands a critical blow to one of the thugs, knocking him out instantly and without warning.
Doesn’t notice anything other than the man holding Christopher throwing him into the back of the van like a sack of potatoes.
Doesn’t notice anything other than the door closing on Christopher’s grief-stricken face. His eyes blown wide with fear, his hand reaching out for Buck. His distress peaking in the single moment before the door shuts him off from Buck.
Maybe he was wrong.
He might throw up after all.
There’s nothing nice about waking abruptly.
Nothing nice about consciousness crashing into you like a high-speed train.
This generally being due to the reasoning as to why you’re waking abruptly, as though a shark breaching the surface of the water out of nowhere. Like a damn torpedo. Whether it be a nightmare, alcohol, drugs, or any other number of reasons.
He’s been there enough times.
Not just from the fire truck, or from nightmares of the crap he’s somehow lived through.
But rather that of the part of his life he rarely tells another soul, the part he keeps to himself, a secret hidden from the rest of the world.
Hidden from the rest of his crew.
So, when his eyes snap open, it’s with a silence that’s become a safety precaution. Along with the readiness to act on a moment’s notice. To go on either defence or offence.
The first thing he notes is his crew surrounding him.
Hen’s arm coming away clutching smelling salts, as she and Chimney check him over. Athena stood protectively over Bobby’s shoulder as the couple look on with concern. Eddie-
Wait.
Eddie.
Fuck.
No.
It was a nightmare. Right?
Right?
It must’ve been a nightmare, there’s no way that could’ve actually happened.
There’s no way he fucked up again.
Something must’ve happened to him. He got knocked out, by a misplaced tree or someone on a bike or with a buggy, or-or something.
He knows his mind’s not clear, his body still healing back to full strength again, his senses coming back to themselves. It explains why his vision’s still blurry to an extent, why he has to concentrate more to actually take in what’s happening around him. Shove away the pain needling at the backs of his eyes that’s nagging at him.
He has no idea how long’s passed since-since that even occurred.
It’s not the first time he’s had to fight through the aftereffects of drugs, hopefully it’ll be the last, but he somehow doubts that. It’s not fun by any standard but if he has to, he’ll do it.
Ignoring the sound of worry emanating from his team, trying desperately to get him to focus, to look at them, the only thing Buck can focus on is the lack of someone.
Someone important.
Someone very important to not only him, and he can’t find him.
The flashing lights hurt his eyes, making the pain drumming through his brain worse, but he doesn’t give a damn. Not when he can’t find him.
There’s another cluster of people not too far from him, and when one of the cops shift to the side, they reveal the guy Buck was fighting. The one who is lying unconscious on the ground, blood flowing from a head wound.
Probably just a shallow graze.
Upon feeling the familiar sensation beginning to bubble in his gut once more, Buck tears his gaze away from the man but not before he spots the handcuffs one of the cops removes from his belt. Instead looking back towards the group crowding around him.
What gets his attention quickly are the tears beginning to flood the eyes of his best friend as he tries to blink them away. Only to succeed in letting one fall from his lashes instead.
“Buck. Please. Where’s Christopher? He was with you, where is he? Where’s my son?” The questions pour from Eddie’s mouth, like he can’t stop himself from speaking aloud the thoughts charging through his mind.
And there it is.
Ever since that damn tsunami, nightmares have plagued him with the memory of having to choke out those cursed words. Words, he knew, were like daggers to his best friend.
And now he’s going to have to repeat the entire thing.
Biting back against the rising nausea, Buck pushes himself up, slowly but steadily. Both Hen and Chimney fretting at his side as they help stabilise him as he finds his balance. Eyes solely on Eddie, and Eddie alone.
He should’ve done more.
He should’ve done better.
He should’ve kept Christopher safe.
But he’s failed him.
He’s failed him yet again.
He’s failed them both. Christopher and Eddie.
He deserves this.
Deserves the pain as he once again has to choke out the words to tell Eddie that Christopher’s gone, that Buck couldn’t keep him safe. Deserves the pain of witnessing Eddie freeze where he crouches at Buck’s side as one of his hands grip at his right shoulder.
Witnesses the play of emotions across Eddie’s face as he takes in the few words that Buck can say.
Even if the words are more along the lines of a stutter as his dry throat clogs, both from the words leaving his lips and forcing himself to speak.
His left hand, restless and needing to move, needing to do something, lifts and goes to rub at the back of his neck. Only to instead meet the small dart protruding from his nape like it’d done before.
As a first responder, Buck knows that in the event of an object piercing the flesh in some capacity, to not remove that object. As you never know if it’s plugging the wound and, by removing it, will only make it worse.
He knows that.
But it doesn’t keep his fingers from wrapping around the body and tugging harshly until it dislodges from the flesh. Laying innocently in his hand as Buck brings his hand back around to his front, glancing down at the object which had, in effect, been the cause of Christopher being taken from him.
It’s funny how, with that one simple action, Buck spurs his crew into action the moment they spot the dart.
They hustle around him, mouths moving and words flowing out, but Buck couldn’t focus on a damn thing. Couldn’t look away from the dart, staring him back in the face, mocking him.
Because of this little thing, he doesn’t know where Christopher is. Is the reason they managed to take Chris from him.
The overwhelming urge to just crush it in the palm of his hand almost swamps him. Like it’s nothing more than an insect not knowing it’s wandered into the hands of death. Temptation whispering in his ear as though a devil sat upon his shoulder.
Continuing to look at it until someone took it from his hand, putting it in an evidence bag or something, as he’s pushed back down to the ground. Someone- Hen, he thinks -trying to convince him to lay back down.
Before he knows it, he’s in the back of the ambulance, Hen moving around him as she grabs at equipment, talking to him as she goes. Probably trying to get him to talk to her. That’s protocol, especially when a patient’s been dosed with an unknown drug, you try to keep them conscious for as long as you can.
He thinks he saw Bobby helping Hen to get the gurney into the ambulance, before disappearing, but he’s not one hundred-percent sure.
God, he can’t even remember being moved onto the damn gurney.
But he does remember Eddie quickly jumping into the back of the ambulance with him, seemingly unable to take his eyes off of Buck. Only able to sit on the bench to the side of him as Hen hovers over him, drawing his attention back to her multiple times.
He tries to pay attention to what she’s saying.
Honestly, he does.
But there’s only one real thought echoing through his mind.
This can’t be happening.
Not again.
He hates hospitals.
Truly.
You’d think, with the amount of time he’s spent here, and the fact his sister used to work in one, it wouldn’t be the case.
Or maybe that just adds to the reasons.
He hates how white the walls are.
He hates the smell of antiseptic which always invades his nostrils. How you can’t seem to avoid it, just the smell of hygiene.
But mostly, he hates the time you have to think, to let your mind drift.
So, as he lays in his hospital bed, with his mind whirring away, his mind clears. The haze the drugs caused fading to a point where he can feel his senses returning to him once again. He’s not completely one hundred percent, but it’s enough for him to work with.
And the clearer his head gets, the angrier he becomes, the feeling burning brightly. Nothing more than embers soon turning into a raging inferno.
And, boy, is it raging.
There’s not much he can do, though.
Nothing he can do besides remember everything that happened, reviewing it all to see if he could’ve actually done anything differently. If he could’ve actually protected Christopher. If he’d stood more of a chance.
Gritting his teeth, Buck shook his head, trying to dislodge the almost cancerous thoughts. He knew it wouldn’t lead to good things.
Instead, he tried anchoring himself to the dizzy feeling overwhelming him, shaking your head when recovering from being drugged is never a good idea. But when it saves him from descending into the chaos that awaited him if he thought too hard about Christopher, he’d gladly take the risk of hurling over the side of the bed compared to slowly driving himself to insanity.
He’d been there before and he’s not looking for another round.
Glancing around his room, Buck ignored the very much used chair in the corner, knowing how much it’d been used by his crew and family. Knowing the only reason why he was currently alone was that they were all probably busy at the station.
He doesn’t know whether being alone is a good thing or not.
Rather, he turns his attention to that of his phone.
Carefully considering the contacts he has, that could help him right now. Knowing he doesn’t even need to bother checking to know that one specific number stands out amongst the rest.
Reaching out for the device, Buck pauses momentarily. Knowing that, if he goes through with this, there’s a strong possibility that the past he’s tried to keep separate for so long might bleed back through. So much so, that he might not be able to keep it hidden any longer.
Then he remembers who this is for.
It’s not even a choice.
“Pit?”
“I need your help.”
No matter what, waiting in a hospital room always sucks. Especially when you’re alone with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait too long.
Before he knows it, Buck’s being discharged AMA and before any of the 118 or their extended family can find out and put a stop to it.
He’s mostly worrying about David. Since he works at the hospital and all. But for once, things are going in his favour.
“What do you need?”
Hondo’s voice reverberates through the cabin of the car, effectively snapping Buck from the headspace he’d been floating in since the moment Hondo took care of getting him discharged.
Nothing like having a LAPD S.W.A.T Sergeant to bail you out without fear of repercussions.
“Right now. What do you need?”
Opening his mouth to finally let loose the words that have been on the tip of his tongue, circling through his mind like a frenzy of sharks, only Buck finds that they don’t budge. Not a single inch.
Swallowing down his anxiety of the entire experience so far, is easier said than done. But that doesn’t stop Buck from compelling himself to, to pretend its with the ease of breathing.
Another thing he lies to himself about.
He knew from the moment he’d called Hondo from the hospital, that he wasn’t going to afford himself the luxury of breaking down, because he didn’t have the ability to do that.
Not right now.
What he was planning to do- what Hondo knew he was going to do -he needed to leave behind that aspect of himself who was crying out, desperate to just take the opportunity present to let it all out. The person trying to make himself into the best person he can be, keeping himself healthy. Knowing it’s not at all good to keep so much despair bottled up within himself, his therapist had told him enough times.
He couldn’t though.
He was going to get Christopher back.
There were no doubts about it, not a single one, both he and Hondo knew that.
However, he also knew that to get Christopher back, he was going to have to fall back upon the very part of himself he’d been running from for so long. Was going to have to let it to the forefront of his mind, let it guide him in ways he’d hadn’t listened to for so long.
Take all of the emotions running rampant and channel it through instead, the only way he knew how, to avoid shattering at his very core.
No matter how much he’d wanted to avoid it- to pretend it out of existence -there wasn’t anything else he could do. It was unthinkable to even humour the thought of letting others- law enforcement -take care of it.
He’d have to flip the switch.
For Christopher, he’d do anything.
No matter how much he dreaded it.
“I need to get Christopher back, but I need your help.”
“This isn’t going to be about revenge or to even the score?” Buck knew Hondo meant well with his question. Doing nothing more than checking that he was in the right frame of mind to even consider something like this. Understanding what type of situation, he was looking right into, and the repercussions he’d have waiting for him if he’s not completely sure.
To even the score?
Shooting Hondo a look, the man in question barely even glanced his way, as he concentrated solely on that which lay ahead. Both in the literal and metaphoric sense.
“Getting Christopher back home, safe and sound. That’s my first and only priority, end of story. I don’t care about revenge.”
As Hondo turned his head to look at him, Buck met his friend’s analytical gaze head on, providing all the evidence he could ever need. Not hiding a damn thing from the man since he’s never done it in all the time he’s known him, he’s not starting now.
He’d made that mistake before. He’s not about to make it again.
Hondo is one of the main people in his life who knows Buck, and that he can trust with this type of situation. He’s seen him through thick and thin, seen him at his very worst, and has never judged him. He knows for a fact that, with Hondo, he never needs to shy away from him, to keep a part of himself secret.
He’s as solid as a rock.
“Well, alright then. Looks like we’ve got a job to do.” Returning his attention once more to the road, Hondo ended the conversation, neither man needing to provide anything more to the moment. One of the brilliant things with being friends with someone like Hondo, you don’t need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter.
Not when he understands more than anyone, the choice Buck’s just made in the one moment.
He’s been there through it all.
After Evan had run away from home, searching for something of his own, he’d found it in being a Navy SEAL. He was good, really good. He’d thrived in the service, soaking everything they could ever teach him like a sponge.
Like the random facts he researches just to know more.
Which was probably one of the only things he’d kept a hold of.
He became Pit, short for Pitbull, and there was a reason for it.
If he ever told this to Dr. Copeland, she’d probably say something about the names providing him a sense of control over his life, and a way to compartmentalise the truly fucked up shit he’s lived through.
Served for long enough to discover things about himself he’d never forget, learnt things he’d never forget easily. To know he could get himself out of any situation with a flourish.
He’d had a team, a family, of his own. Ones that had his back in every way that counted, could walk through hell, and trust them to have his back no matter what. And know they trusted him to do the same.
He’d even met Hondo on one of his ops, sent into a non-disclosed location to complete a task without anyone knowing, the same ol’ order. Completed several ops together, saving each other in the process a couple times, enough to become good friends.
But there was one op that hadn’t gone too well- not fatal, just not as smooth as normal. Things had happened, and well, he’d wanted out. Wanted something else for himself entirely, so, he joined the academy instead.
He became Buck.
Hondo ended up following him shortly after, joining the LAPD S.W.A.T and became a Sergeant. He’d had his own reasons for wanting to leave the Marines, but the point still stood, Hondo’s supported him throughout it all.
But who he’d been- Pit -it had scared him. What he was capable of, his potential, and how eerily good at it all he’d been. It just got too much for him. So much so, that when he’d become Buck and joined the 118, he left Pit behind. Left everything he’d represented, hadn’t introduced him to his crew.
Decided to focus on saving people’s lives, instead of taking them.
When Bobby talked to him the night Devon died, Buck had almost told him, about how it wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone die in front of him.
But it was the first time someone had died who Buck couldn’t save.
Buck was supposed to be better than Pit had ever been, his job was to save people, no matter what. Buck had all of the skills and knowhow to pull of daring manuvers that nobody else could even dream of.
Pit had done things which had been more dangerous, with a higher risk of dying, and still walked out completely fine. He’d saved people in such precarious situations; he still wonders how he even made it out to tell the tale.
Tales which would make the 118’s head spin.
But he never considered that, when working as a first responder, it’s not just up to him to do his job. It’s up to the person to want to be saved. The two working hand-in-hand, side by side.
It’s different when they’re civilians.
There were still skills he implemented from his time as a SEAL which really came in handy, like staying calm under pressure, among others.
He just never thought he’d have to ever let Pit into the forefront of his mind ever again. Never thought he’d be in the type of situation where he’d have to, since that wasn’t his field of expertise, considering he wasn’t LAPD.
Exhaling the deep breath which he’d been holding, Buck just turned his attention to the view out of the passenger-side window. Focused on the scenery passing them by as Hondo drove them through the streets of LA.
He just hoped Eddie would forgive him for this.
All of it.
He can’t believe this is happening again.
It’s like he’s unable to move past that concept, that thought. It keeps circling throughout his mind.
He truly thought that this wouldn’t happen again, not to them.
It wasn’t fair.
So much has happened to Christopher, it’s a wonder how his kid even manages to continue being the ball of sunshine he is. His national treasure of a son. How he was lucky enough to have him as a son, is beyond him.
From being born with CP, to losing his mother so young, to being in a goddamn tsunami. That’s just the worst of what he’s experienced, and not including the bits in between.
Eddie had honestly believed- or better yet, prayed -that he would never have to experience something as terrifying as those few moments he’d thought Christopher was dead, ever again. That raw fear was excruciating, worse than anything he’d ever gone through.
He’d rather experience being shot again, and he doesn’t say that lightly, considering it was incredibly painful and a long process healing from it. However, if it was a choice and it kept Chris from being hurt any more than he’s already been, he’d go through the entire shooting again. Kept him from the pain that the world could inflict on a person.
So many times.
But it’s not just that, though. Nothing’s ever that easy.
Then there’s Buck.
God, Buck.
The man can’t catch a break.
The only reason why Eddie’s currently sitting in the living room of Bobby and Athena’s house, and not at Buck’s side at the hospital, is the crew. And he doesn’t have a single shred of an idea as to if he hates them for it or not. Or how they even managed it in the first place, dragging away from his partner.
Eddie had been with Buck from the moment the 118 had been called on-scene, and they realised it was one of their own. That it was actually Buck lying motionless on the ground, looking like he’d been put through the ringer.
Good God.
He genuinely shivered even thinking about what had happened. He’s going to be having nightmares later about it, for sure.
They’d all tried to stay as professional as they possibly could the moment Athena had approached them with that look on her face, the one she made when she was forcing herself to stay in work mode. The moment she’d warned them that it was Buck lying on the ground, unconscious, Eddie could barely remember what happened.
All he’d been worried about was getting to his best friend’s side as soon as he possibly could.
He knew Buck had surprised Carla with an unexpected day off when he’d offered to look after Christopher for the rest of the day. Claiming that he didn’t know what to do with the rest of his day, was more than happy to spend it with his favourite Diaz.
He knew Christopher was supposed to be with Buck.
He knew it all.
He also knew that he didn’t see Christopher anywhere.
Memories of the tsunami merged with what he was seeing, the familiar curls of a panic attack had churned his stomach, how similar it all was. It was nauseating.
Finding Buck without Christopher.
Buck chocking out the words that Christopher was gone.
That he’d lost him.
He didn’t know how to possibly respond to that. Not again.
Then Buck went and pulled a damn dart out the back of his neck and things happened so quickly, it had made his head spin. Bobby helping Hen and Chimney load Buck up onto a gurney as Buck fought them at every turn, trying to look for Christopher.
All he could focus on was Buck.
His only remaining anchor to keep from being pulled out into the darkness, descending into the waves of panic that were prowling around the edges. Just waiting to dig their claws in, and not let go.
He could barely focus on what his crew was saying, eyes locking on the form of his best friend as he followed him into the back of the ambulance, not even bothering to check it over with Bobby first. But he didn’t think Bobby was too surprised, considering his son was missing and his best friend had been drugged trying to defend him.
Trying to keep him safe.
Eddie had been at Buck’s side the moment they got to the hospital, still sat in his turn outs and gaze fixed on his best friend. Blocking out everything and everyone that wasn’t his best friend or his son, the two people he needed most.
He couldn’t tell you when but at some point, Bobby and Athena had come in and managed to convince him to leave the hospital, to get changed and get something to eat.
The part he’s most curious to know, is how the hell they even managed to get him not only up on his feet but out of the hospital in general. Got him to leave Buck. That he didn’t protest anything which, if he hadn’t been left reeling in the events of it all, he definitely would’ve under normal circumstances.
Dios.
The day wouldn’t stop feeling like a nightmare.
The rest of the crew and their extended family had all joined the rest of them at Bobby and Athena’s house, since they had more space than anyone else.
They all knew it was in an attempt to help one another cope and support Eddie, all wanting to keep an eye on the man. It wasn’t exactly a secret. To not only provide support wherever they possibly could but also as a means of distracting themselves in the process.
Buck’s important to them all, easily a large part of everyone’s family.
A brother.
A son.
A husband partner.
The thing is, Eddie knows his best friend better than anyone, and that also extends to being able to spot him amongst a crowd. He claims it’s the observant tendency he picked up when he was in the military and just hasn’t lost, especially with being a dad. It’s his job to notice things.
It also means that he notices the eerie lack of Buck, and with all things considered, that wouldn’t cause any more panic. But considering Chim and Maddie went to pick him up a while ago, and still haven’t returned, Eddie feels like he’s sitting on the damn edge of his seat.
He feels like he’s one breath away from an honest to god, panic attack.
Something he hasn’t had in years.
Sure, he’s dealt with his fair share of panic attacks due to his PTSD, but this is different, this is completely different. And yet, so much worse.
He feels like he’s so close to falling apart, to tearing at his seams.
It’s a known fact, that Buck is and has always been Eddie’s anchor, something to tether him down even in the worst of storms. It’s what made the whole lawsuit so painful, having to learn that fact like a sucker punch to the gut.
After things had gotten back to the way they were, Eddie had often found himself wondering what it would’ve been like had he found Christopher first. But he hadn’t pursued the thought too far due to the immediate pain churning his stomach.
Maybe that’s why, when he notices Maddie and Chim finally returning and without the very person he needs to see, he feels the world begin to slip out from under his feet. What little grip he’d managed to gain on his oncoming panic just slipping out of his reach oh so easily, like a fraying rope finally giving, unable to handle the load any more.
That only worsens the longer he listens to the conversation happening between Maddie and Chimney, and Bobby and Athena.
Buck wasn’t at the hospital, he’s been discharged.
Buck isn’t at his apartment, nor the firehouse, nor at Eddie’s.
They can’t find Buck.
And, just like that, the last thread holding Eddie’s sanity together tears before his very eyes, plunging him the icy throes of pure and utter panic.
Coils wrapping around his throat and constricting. Ridding it of any oxygen that would’ve been there, nothing by the vice grip. The ice-cold sensation piercing him, the same one that Buck, and Christopher must’ve felt in the tsunami.
He doesn’t notice the conversation dying out as everyone’s focus is soon shifted to him. The combination of the eyes of every single person in the room on him and the concern in their gaze would’ve been too much for him to handle anyway. But as it were, he wasn’t seeing any of it.
He couldn’t.
Doesn’t hear the sound of their concern, knowing that Buck wouldn’t just leave his best friend in his time of need without a damn good excuse.
It’s almost funny to see how clear things are, in times of a crisis.
Like the water in those luxury holiday pictures he always notices when going about his day. Where you can see through to the bottom, to the ocean floor.
How funny to see, abundantly clear, how much he’s come to rely on Buck. The true extent of it. For so much, without even damn well knowing or comprehending how crucial his place is. And not just in Eddie’s life.
With his son missing, he needs his best friend now more than ever, not only because he knows what happened to his son. Has seen the faces of the men responsible. But he knows that, no matter what, he can fall back onto the man and can trust him to catch him.
He knows he’s not alone.
By no means, is he alone. Not only has he got the 118 and their extended family, but he’s got his own immediate family of Pepa and Abuela. Even then, they’re just the ones who are in LA. He can call his sisters, hell even his parents- not that he would.
He’s already panicking enough as it is. Don’t want to add anger on top of that by having to deal with their suffocating presence. Would just use it as even more evidence to prove that Christopher should just stay with them.
Despite it all, nobody understands him like Buck. He doesn’t even need to try; he just sees Eddie. Communicates through looks and, most often, not even that. He still wonders how Buck even manages it, how he just knows what Eddie needs, even before the man knows himself.
Buck always has his back. No matter what.
But he’s not here.
Nobody knows where he is.
Not only has he lost his son, but now he’s lost his best friend too, his partner.
See, thing is, he knows Buck. Knows him like the back of his hand, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt, Buck hasn’t simply run off.
He wouldn’t.
Proved what type of a person he is in the tsunami. Saving people despite being in pain, despite not being in top form, he didn’t let that stop him. He did whatever he physically could to protect Chris, to keep him safe, and when Mother Nature went and stole Chris away, Buck didn’t give up. He searched, until he ran himself into the ground, literally.
Buck wouldn’t leave Chris behind. The thought is inconceivable, it goes against the man’s nature.
So, somewhere out there, Buck was looking for Chris.
Somewhere Eddie didn’t know, somewhere none of them knew, Buck was on his own.
This day is just getting worse by the second.
Somehow managing to calm himself down, somewhat, to a point where he’s able to actually take part in a conversation. Eddie’s nerves are frayed at best, holding onto them with a white-knuckle grip, in fear of descending back into his panicked state.
He’s barely hanging onto his sanity, let alone being able to even respond to a conversation with anything other than grunts of acknowledgement.
But he’s coping, solely due to Athena looking into Buck’s disappearance. Using the strings she has to get some answers into where he’s actually gone, but even that’s slow going.
He knows that Athena sees Buck as her eldest son, both she and Bobby do, and are incredibly protective of him. Knows that he can trust that Athena will do anything and everything in her power to find where her son is and get him back home safe and sound.
However, at some points, even that lure isn’t enough to keep himself afloat.
So, instead, he distracts himself. By thinking of how he’ll possibly react if Buck were to suddenly walk in through the front door right now.
Or, better yet, waltz in through the door with Christopher in his arms, safe and sound.
He wishes it were that easy.
Oh, what he’d do if he were able to have them both in his arms again.
Probably never let either one leave his sight.
Just lock the door, ignore everything on the other side, and just hold them both in the safety of his room where he knows where they are. Can keep them both in his direct line of sight at all times. Sing himself the lullaby of both their heartbeats. Chris safely held in Buck’s arms, and Buck safely held in Eddie’s.
Eddie would literally be holding his entire world in his arms.
Athena’s voice crashes through the peaceful state he’s temporarily introduced his mind to with a fury, ripping him from the place and returning him to the present. The movement so quick, it nearly makes him lightheaded.
He didn’t even realise he’d had his eyes closed. Nor with his hand clutching at his St. Christopher medallion in some hope of trying to keep himself anchored to something.
“Good news, Eddie,” with those words, the tension in his shoulders fell as fast as it came, sending him crashing into the back of the armchair. Grateful for its support. “We know where Buck went.”
Eddie hangs onto every single word that leaves Athena’s mouth as she explains Buck’s disappearance. Showing him video evidence of his best friend leaving the hospital of his own free will and not being kidnapped, or something worse. Going from his reactions, it looks like they know each other.
Even going so far as looking the guy up and finding out, not only is he with S.W.A.T, but as a LAPD Sergeant at that.
While it’s relieving, to know his best friend is safe, it just gets him asking new questions. Questions he desperately needs the answers to.
Why didn’t Buck call any of them to let them know he was leaving?
How does he know a LAPD Sergeant of S.W.A.T?
But the one he desperately needs answering of all.
When is he coming home?
Never before would he have thought he’d be doing this again.
He’d gotten out for a reason. It’s why he decided to become a firefighter in the first place, to leave all of it behind him, start afresh.
To not feel guilty over the job he had.
It feels eerily similar to how he’d practically patrolled the streets after the water had receded enough for people to walk around safely again. Searching relentlessly for the familiar sight of the brown mop of curls, the infectious smile which lit up a room so easily and that damn yellow shirt.
The one he can never forget.
And yet, here he is.
Following Hondo into the HQ of S.W.A.T. so he can be introduced to the rest of Hondo’s team and to brief them on the upcoming mission. One which Buck will be participating in for the sole purpose of getting Christopher back.
Hondo had told him on the drive over, that he’d agree to let him into the group temporarily, for the entirety of this mission. Knows that, after having served together, he can trust him to have his back and not get emotionally compromised worrying about the safety of Christopher.
Typically, one would worry about someone in Buck’s position being brought in, due to how emotional they’d be. Understandably so.
However, with Buck, they both know it’s something neither has to worry about.
Not with this.
The main thing Hondo is worried about, and the one that’s got him sharing knowing looks with Buck, is what he’s walking himself into. to what the situation is going to call for. Not only to get Buck to where Christopher’s being held, but also safely out and as far away from there as possible.
Something Buck’s more than willing to do, one last time.
There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Christopher.
It’s the thought that carries him for the rest of the drive over, and as he follows Hondo in and when meeting his team. Buck’s immensely grateful for Hondo being the one to update them on everything that happened, he’s not quite sure if he’s got the ability to say the words aloud.
Buck’s served for long enough to know that, in missions like these, how much smoother missions run when people know all they’re supposed to. Not wanting the to run into enemy fire without knowing why he’s doing this and what, exactly, he want out of it.
He notes how Hondo introduces him as ‘Pit’, both knowing that Buck needs that clear difference between his normal self and what he’s going to have to be to get through this op. Team understanding the subtext of it, as well as the grateful look that Buck exchanges with Hondo.
If he wasn’t already coasting along in ‘Soldier mode’, the amount of respect audible as Hondo talks to his team would have him ducking his head down. He’s still unable to properly receive a compliment, not being able to help but wait for the other shoe to drop, even when it never does.
Listens as Hondo explains to his team how, while he normally wouldn’t be allowing this due to the emotional responses, he has no qualms with having Pit watching his back. As not only has he served with him before- so knows how he operates -and trusts him with his life, but in a time of crisis Pit is someone you want watching your six. Because if you put your trust in him, you’ll make it out alive, and Hondo has and made it out multiple times.
Even in times when he probably shouldn’t have, and those he didn’t think he would.
With the team introduced to Buck, they turn their attention to the debrief for the mission. One which would’ve had him gritting his teeth together as he had to listen to it all.
Through having to update the team on everything, including the reason as to why Christopher got nabbed in broad daylight in the first place.
There’s an underground kid smuggling operation.
Kids going missing, being abducted right off the streets, the ones behind it not even trying to be subtle. Like they don’t think people care about children going missing. A fact which grates against the nerves of everyone present.
Everything about this is weird.
He hadn’t thought about how weird it would be. Getting changed into an LAPD shirt instead of his LAFD one. Wearing cargo trousers again, which he hasn’t worn in years.
Actually reminds him of his former CO, who practically lives in them.
And that’s just underneath.
It’s almost eerie suiting up and not seeing his turnout gear but rather a bulletproof vest and gun holster. Even more so with the weight of the handgun, trying not to think too much on it as he loaded and cocked it, before sheathing it quickly into the holster. Such simply actions, and oh so fluid in his hands, that it almost brought goosebumps upon his skin.
He hadn’t handled a gun since that time he’d been held at gunpoint on the bridge with Lola a couple years ago. Even if all he did was quickly pass it up to Eddie on the bridge.
It’s unnatural to see it now.
A sight he hasn’t seen for several years. Not since he left the SEAL’s. Since he left the service and that part of him which, honestly? Scared him.
It had truly unnerved him at who he’d become in the years he’d served. The things he’d had to do.
Pit.
The name represented so much to him.
U.S. Navy SEAL Evan ‘Pit’ Buckley.
Someone he’d been for so long, a part which still exists somewhere in his mind yet never makes an appearance. The only aspect he’d ever implemented being how damn calm he’d always remained, despite under intense pressure. Didn’t even matter if he was staring death in the face, his hands remained as steady as a surgeons.
It’s not that he’s ashamed of what he’s done, of who he’d become. He’s not in the slightest, no doubt on that. Pit had kept him alive through so many things, he was alive because of Pit. The man, the soldier being forged in war, experiencing the worst the world had to offer and walking right out the other side.
No matter what situation he found himself in, he’d find a way out. Even when it was bleak and there was no path to take, he’d forge his own.
Closing his eyes before he could sink too deep, Buck soon turned his focus instead on just thinking of his objectives for the night. Thoughts of why he was doing this in the first place, using it like an anchor.
“You sure about this, Pit? You can still back out at any moment.” Street’s voice snapped his gaze over to the man in question, who’s head was turned in his direction as he strapped his vest into place.
Buck can tell he didn’t mean the question in a way which questioned his ability, but rather asking for his own sanity. Which was always nice to have considered, rather than just being shoved into a situation regardless of it.
Small mercies and all that.
“That kid might not be mine, but he might as well be. It’s my fault he’s even in this mess in the first place. I was supposed to protect him, and I failed at that. I’m not going to fail him again.” He didn’t want to bring up the tsunami, since it was just painfully awkward for everyone.
Might be pushing it too much to force himself to cope with both things at once, and since he didn’t want to burn himself out like a damn star later on, he focused on the present rather than the distant past. Because that’s what it was.
End of story.
At least until later when he could beat himself up for it and add in this entire clusterfuck while he was at it.
“Besides, nobody takes innocent kids off the streets and gets away with it.” The thought sickens him. Reminds him of the sheer terror he’d seen on Christopher’s face before the door had shut him off. What those poor kids must’ve gone through, how terrified they’d felt.
He was going to have so many nightmares from this.
“You’ve got some balls on you, Pit” that almost drew a snort out of him. If he only knew.
“Pit’s too damn stubborn to back down from anything. And too much of a dumbass to realise that he’s not to blame for any of this. Considering the way I see it, even when drugged, he still managed to take down one of his attackers.”
“Hondo-”
“Believe it or not but not everything’s your fault. So quit acting like it is. You did what you could, and now we’re going to help you the rest of the way.”
Could always rely on Hondo to put a good ol’ boot up his ass when needed.
“He’s right, Pit. You’re gonna get your kid back and you’re also going to be helping us return all these kids back home. None of us have any worries with you watching our back” Deacon stated, approaching him with his hand held out, Buck exhaling before grabbing it. Nodding his head in thanks for the man’s support, despite only meeting him not even an hour ago.
“Besides, after all this. Now we’ll have someone we know can back us up in a pinch, in the future. Even if it is from LAFD, you’ll be our honorary member.” Buck couldn’t help the slight huff at Chris’ words, but still meeting her fist bump.
It was good to know Hondo had a damn good team of his own backing him up, and the mission was only just beginning.
Buck was right.
Hondo’s got one hell of a team backing him up.
They operate like one well-oiled machine. Quick and efficient. Working together like they have been for years. Which in the case of some teams, despite working together for years, it doesn’t quite show through in their actions.
That is not the case with this team.
S.W.A.T is quick and effective with surrounding the building in question, Hondo leading the charge, directing his team like the leader Buck’s always known him to be.
With his orders from the man in question clear, and his own promise, Buck follows steadily behind both Hondo and Deacon. The two men working as a united front and working well at that.
On the drive over, Hondo had told Buck that, unless absolutely necessary, he’s not to shoot. The orders being unnecessary at best considering both men knew Buck will stick to hand-to-hand combat before even considering drawing his weapon, especially that he doesn’t need it since he is the weapon himself.
However, having the permission, in the worse-case scenario, to pull the trigger is reassuring. To some degree.
Luckily, due to the fact they’ve got the backup of the rest of S.W.A.T, Buck doesn’t even carry the rifle he knows he would’ve been holding.
Small victories.
If he hadn’t been used to the rapid pace of it all, through both the ops he’d served on and being a firefighter, it would’ve made his head spin. Would’ve made him worry that things would be going wrong for rushing in without a solid plan but that’s not the case.
Far from it.
Clearing floor by floor, Buck remains on Hondo and Deacon’s heel as they move down towards the basement. Pausing momentarily as he follows Hondo’s hand signals, he heard the group of- presumably -armed men further down the corridor blocking them from the door to the basement.
So far, things hadn’t been too bad, as he mostly just followed behind the others. Not having bumped into any mercenaries so far. But he doesn’t need to predict the future to know that once they turned this corner, things were going to change. Knows that he needs to be able to respond without thinking, to fully tap into that muscle memory he knows is thrumming beneath the surface. Like the motorbike he used to have, to be able to just respond to anything they may encounter.
And worry about it after he got Christopher out of this alive.
Taking full advantage of the lack of movement, Buck just breathes.
Breathes in all the worries and hesitance of having to put himself back in this position. All of the fears of not being able to get Christopher back to his dad tonight, to not bringing his family back together again. He breathes it all in.
And exhales.
Letting the familiar numbness flood his system, like a dam finally giving way. The cold water nipping at his nerves in the very way he’d always dreaded but now embraced fully. Like when you jump into the freezing water, if you remain still, your body just adapts to the temperature.
Catching Hondo’s glance over his shoulder, Buck meets his gaze and subtly nods.
His vision narrows in on what’s right in front of him, tunnel vision blocking out everything else as they rush around the corner. Bullet spray responding temporarily before a few well-placed shots take care of it.
Later on, when he tries to remember what actually happened, he wouldn’t be able to tell it apart as it all blurs together. The sound of gunfire and the impact of hits as the group resort to hand-to-hand combat as another group jumps into the fight, the team trading blows. Bullets lodging themselves into surfaces all around him, skimming over his head. Sounds becoming distorted, like trying to listen from underwater, all you can do is watch through blurry vision.
Except Buck’s vision is clear and crisp.
It reminds him of when he served, how he used to see the world down the barrel of his gun and his shots seemed to be mapped out for him. Could see them so clear, that he knew when he pulled the trigger, every single bullet would land.
That’s why- now -he refuses to draw his weapon. Not unless he has no other choice.
He knows if he drew his gun, he’s aiming true.
He wouldn’t be able to help it, even if he tried to. After spending so long training his aim to hit his target, no matter the circumstances, considering the variables, he wouldn’t be able to turn that off. Like a knee-jerk reaction.
Even right now, where he’s falling back so heavily on muscle memory, he keeps his mind off the weight resting against his thigh. Falls back on his skills at hand-to-hand combat instead. Focusing on the rhythm of his punches.
One.
Two.
Down.
Focuses on disabling the mercenaries without killing a single one of them, knowing it’ll be better for him in the long run. For his own sanity and conscience. Even when one of them pulls a knife out of nowhere, he still doesn’t even lay a single finger over his gun.
Even when his own thoughts are beginning to twist and demand he deliver even an ounce of the pain they’d gifted him. To leave behind messages that’ll be clear and crisp, as to what happens when you mess with someone he cares about, his family.
But he doesn’t.
He shuts those thoughts down just as quick as they appear.
And dare he say it, it’s going rather well.
That is until the moment he notices the guy he remembers aggressively shoving Christopher into the back of the van. Not showing a shred of mercy to the boy. An innocent boy. Before he can stop it, rage bubbles up into a fury in the pit of his stomach.
So much so, it’s like he’s about to breathe fire.
He’s not thinking when he moves forward, target locked onto the guy, not seeing anyone else. Despite knowing how dangerous that is in moments like these, letting his emotions get the better of him.
But he’s dealt with situations like these, dealt with the emotions that come with being on a team and having to watch one of his own get shot or gunned down. Having to confront the person responsible for that action, for the pain they caused his teammate, for the fatality.
So, when others try attacking him, he soon sends them crashing to the floor unconscious. Not even having to look at them to know where to aim, his body just running without his conscious thought guiding it. It’s one of his many skills he was trained to do.
He’s always been good at fighting.
The man meets him in the middle, launching into his own attack, having remembered his face from the park. Remembering how he’d taken them all on, with them only gaining the advantage when they’d gone for the cheap shot of drugging him. And even that still hadn’t taken him out completely.
See the thing is, a particular skill Buck had acquired over the years, was training himself out of using anger as his driving force. Not falling for the typical trick everyone else did, like the mercenary he was fighting for example. Using the anger of how he’d embarrassed him earlier as his driving force.
Letting it lead him.
Buck, on the other hand, used the toe-curling rage to take the several hits, not backing down a single inch as he land his own. Not allowing his own anger to control his movements, but rather keeping a clear head, using that fury as a shield.
Which worked to his benefit as he landed the critical blow as he feinted to the side, only to deliver the knockout punch to the guy’s jaw.
If some of his punches landed in places where, when the guy woke up, there’d be nauseating pain, well nobody had to know. Soothing his rage somewhat, knowing he’d be dealing with cracked- broken even -ribs.
That’s what he got for messing with kids. Innocent kids.
He’s lucky he won’t be breathing through a damn tube.
Having to physically restrain himself to not finish the guy off, retreating back a couple steps, Buck exhaled the rest of his pent-up aggression. Clenching his fists as he scanned his surroundings, checking to see if anyone else needed help.
Only to spot Deacon’s impressed expression as he took in the guy laying passed out on the floor, and the anger still practically pulsing within Buck. Looking impressed at the display of discipline and restraint, even when it was clearly evident how much he still wanted to beat the guy to a pulp for laying a finger on Christopher.
That’s not why he’s here.
And yet, despite gripping hold of that thought, he still couldn’t help the way he basically vibrated at the thought of being so close to finding Christopher. Make sure he’s alright- well, as alright as he could be, all things considered.
Once ensuring S.W.A.T had the group of mercenaries down and out for the count, Buck concentrated solely on the set of doors before him. The set of doors he hoped- desperately so -had the kids they’d come to rescue on the other side of.
Preparing for one more surprise attack, a last-ditch effort, he didn’t drop his guard. Not as Hondo pushed open the set of doors, Deacon close behind him to back him up in case of another attack.
He heard the collective sharp intake of breath at the sight of a room seemingly bursting with kids, the overwhelming stench of fear invading them all. As the rest of the team started clearing the rest of the room, ensuring all mercenaries were accounted for, Buck took in the sight before him.
It was sickening.
There were so many kids, ages ranging from no more than three all the way up to fifteen-year-olds, scattered throughout the large room. Barely any space being left between them all as they huddled together for, not only warmth, but for some shred of comfort. Seeking it with a desperation which made the bile rise quicker than anything he’d ever seen.
He barely knew where to even start as he looked over the trembling frames, hands clutching at each other as they all watched with terror-stricken gazes. Wary of the new presence in the room.
However, the closer he looked, the sicker he felt.
They were tied to the damn wall.
With the limited space between each child, the ropes were almost disguised, hidden between their little trembling figures.
There were so many quivering bodies, pure terror flooding them all, not knowing if they’d ever see the light of day let alone their families again.
Just as he was about to compel himself to move- as he felt like he’d been locked in place -to try and start his search for Christopher, a hysterical voice broke him out of his trance.
One he’d know anywhere.
“B-Bucky? Bucky!”
Automatically zoning in on the source of the voice, Buck felt his breath punched from his chest as he finally spotted the familiar brown mop of curls. His feet moving him forward before he even processed what was happening.
Christopher called out for him again, Buck’s heart feeling as though it were wrenched from his chest at the sound of fear audibly present in his voice. He hadn’t heard him this scared since the tsunami, after they’d been separated when the wave had hit the pier.
He never wanted to hear that fear again.
His sudden movement somehow broke the others from their own trance, pushing them all into action as well. Moving quickly but calmly through the room, trying not to scare the kids any more than they already were.
Deacon taking a step back to radio in for backup to help get all the kids seen to medically and transported somewhere safe and warm.
That’s as much as Buck noticed as he crashed to his knees in front of the trembling figure of his best friend’s world.
Once he was close enough, Chris butted his head into Buck’s neck like he always did when he was seeking comfort. The action would’ve brought immediate tears to his eyes if the numbness hadn’t already settled over him like a weighted blanket.
“I’ve got you.” Buck muttered the words into Christopher’s curls.
Trying not to think on it too much, Buck reaches into his boot to retrieve his knife, slicing through the bindings quickly. Needing to pull Christopher into his arms properly.
However, despite his own need to have Chris in his arms, Buck’s training as a first responder blares louder. Nagging at the back of his mind as though an actual person were beside him.
So that’s why, the moment the binding falls away from Chris’ wrists, Buck’s quickly checking him over. Minus the red marks where the rope must’ve cut in briefly when Christopher must’ve tried to tug his wrists free, Christopher’s physically fine.
Breathing easier, Buck tugs Chris into his lap as the boy’s arms immediately wrap around his neck, clutching onto him tightly. His grip suggesting he’s not going to be letting go for a while. Fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, terrified of being separated once again, probably remembering how it’d been during the tsunami.
If he were here in any other way, he’d be crying as he clutches Chris to his chest desperately, his heart breaking as the boy continues crying out Buck’s name. Would be muttering soothing words into the brown mop of curls but he can’t find those words in him, not right now.
Not when he’s still in soldier mode.
Not when his eyes are constantly scanning the room, keeping watch, his guard still up. Noting where every single member of the team is as officers and paramedics rush in to check over all the kids. Some of which are looking to him for comfort as they watch the way Christopher grips onto him, his fingers locked in a death grip around the material of his shirt.
He just can’t provide that comfort right now, not when he’s focused more on survival rather than comfort.
He partially hates himself, knowing he can’t provide Christopher that reassurance he’s looking for right now, knows he can’t be Christopher’s Bucky.
Pit is still needed until they get somewhere safe, until he gets Christopher back safely into Eddie’s arms.
However, he does stay where he is until another officer wanders over, probably reading how much Buck wants to retreat from the room.
Let’s the other kids shuffle closer to him, using his very presence as a comfort blanket, taking the moment as an opportunity to slice through all of their ropes as well. Providing what little he can of some form of reassurance, even if it’s just kneeling there and letting them nestle closer.
However, he spies an officer making their way over to him, knowing they’ve noted Chris in his arms and the way SWAT is hovering nearby.
Nodding his thanks to the officer, Buck strides over to where Hondo and Deacon stand, watching him.
When he gets close enough, Hondo turns to lead them back out of the building, Deacon quickly falling in suit. The two men keeping close enough to protect Buck and Christopher from being bumped by the hustle and bustle as officers and paramedics dart past.
It’s difficult leaving so many kids behind, so he can focus solely on Christopher. Difficult leaving the lives of so many innocent children in the hands of officers he doesn’t know. But he knows he can trust LAPD to ensure their safety from here on in, to get them all home safely, like he’s ensuring for Christopher.
He can definitely see himself checking with Hondo on the update of the case regarding the underground operation and how the kids are doing.
But right now, there’s only one thing he can do, and that’s what he’s doing currently.
As they exit the building, the rest of the team soon join up with them, keeping Buck tucked on the inside of their little barricade. Doing their best to block out the flashing lights and the sirens when they see Christopher flinch, digging his face deeper into Buck’s neck.
When he can’t find the words to soothe Chris, he runs his other hand up and down Chris’ back, in some hopes of providing the boy with some sort of comfort. He knew if he were to open his mouth right now, his voice would probably do nothing but scare Chris. He can’t pretend to inject the emotions he’s probably expecting to hear from his Bucky right now, because he’s the furthest thing from Christopher’s Bucky at this point.
Doesn’t have the emotional capacity to try and bring a smile to Christopher’s face to distract from what he’s just experienced for the past several hours.
Actions speak louder than words.
Right now, he hopes that’s true.
Following behind Hondo towards their vehicles, Buck finds his gaze wandering over the multiple LAPD vehicles parked at the scene. A symphony of red and blue lights washing the side of the building in colour as well as casting a glow that people can probably see from miles away.
He hopes he won’t spot the familiar face of Sergeant Athena Grant among the crowd of officers. He really doesn’t want to have to explain himself right now, he knows he’ll have to eventually, will have to explain his sudden disappearing act from the hospital. But for now he just wants to get Christopher back to Eddie.
Just as they’re approaching their vehicles, Buck hears a voice calling out, cutting off the single sound of sirens.
“Buck?”
Turning to face the voice, Buck pauses at the sight of Athena striding over towards him, Christopher barely reacting. Still clinging onto Buck like a baby Koala.
When Athena gets close enough, the first thing she notices is Christopher curled up in his arms, breathing easier at knowing that he’s safe. But focuses in on what Buck’s currently wearing, mainly the bulletproof vest since Christopher’s legs partially disguise the holster.
“Buck, we’ve all been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing here, hon?” Buck’s only response being to look down at Christopher before glancing back up. He can see the questions forming in her eyes, see how badly she wants to question him about so many things, but holds back.
“I’m guessing nobody knows?” It’s not even like it’s a question she asks, more like stating a fact than anything. Buck just shakes his head in response. It’s the only thing he can do, despite knowing that his silence is worrying Athena more.
Luckily, Hondo steps in before she can ask any more questions.
“You must be Sergeant Grant. It’s nice to meet you,” reaching out to shake her hand, Hondo continues, “we were just about to drive to the hospital to drop these two off for a check-up. I take it you’ll be coming with us?”
Barely any time passes before Athena seems to jolt back into herself, processing the words Hondo’s just spoken.
“Yes. Yes I am.”
Hondo and Deacon help Buck and Chris into the back of the Bearcat, both knowing for a fact that Chris isn’t going to be wanting to let go of Buck any time soon. Knowing it’ll be safer for them both rather than the Charger. Street quickly jumping into the back behind him, soon followed by Athena, as Hondo and Deacon take their seats up front. The rest of the team agreeing to meet them back at HQ.
The Bearcat’s silent on the trip to the hospital, the only sound being that of road noise.
Typically, the silence would be deafening, as he’s accustomed to there always being some sort of sound. But in this instance, it’s actually preferable. It gives him time to take everything in, time to breathe without questions being launched at him.
Street helps Buck carefully remove his helmet and vest. Working around Christopher, who refuses to budge too far from Buck, agreeing to scoot back far enough where he can clutch onto the material of his shirt.
Continues to anchor himself to Buck through any means necessary.
Buck catches Street freezing in his seat in his peripheral, glancing down at the vest in his hands, before looking back up at Buck. Concern and questions in his eyes as he glances back down at the vest.
Following his gaze, Buck runs his eyes over the vest before finding what Street had. Understanding immediately why he’d startled briefly at what he’d found.
A bullet was lodged in the crevice beneath where the logo of the LAPD S.W.A.T rested.
He’d been shot.
At some point, he’d been shot, and he hadn’t even noticed.
Trying not to physically react to gain attention to it, Buck could only look at it for a couple moments before looking back up at Street and subtly shaking his head when he goes to speak. He didn’t want to worry either Christopher or Athena.
Here’s what nobody else knew, or rather nobody outside of his former crew, Buck’s been shot a couple times. He’s been shot so many times, he knows how to tell without having to look, the feeling of a bullet lodged in his flesh. You can’t forget it.
Even when the adrenaline is pumping, hiding anything and everything from him. But luckily, it’s been long enough that the adrenaline that had powered him through, among others, had begun to wear off. All the bumps and bruises making themselves known.
While the numbness is still present, he can feel the aches of his body, the bruises that’ll only get worse with time. The ones that will probably decorate his torso for a while, especially the one that will be beneath where that bullet had lodged itself in.
That’s not going to be pretty.
However, judging by the look Athena’s currently giving him, Buck knows she must’ve caught sight of the bullet, and put the pieces together quickly. Knowing that, mostly likely, if Christopher wasn’t still sitting on his lap, he’d be getting reamed out.
Well, that’s going to be fun to deal with.
Pushing on through the heavy silence, Buck carefully shifted Christopher closer to his chest, pausing for the kid to bury his face back into his shoulder again before moving for the holster. Subtly undoing the buckle, Buck expertly removes the holster with one hand before passing it over to Street, knowing there’s no way he could hide the sight from Athena.
Nor the way he handled the weapon.
Instead, choosing to ignore the look he can feel burning holes in the side of his head.
He catches the movement out the side of his eye as Athena pulls her phone out of her pocket, most definitely texting Bobby, updating him that she’s with Buck and Christopher on the way to the hospital. The text short as she returns her phone to her pocket, looking back at Buck once more as they settle back into the silence.
Buck distracted himself somewhat with running his hands up Christopher’s arms in an attempt to soothe him, tightening his arms when he lets out a whimper. Which quiets when Buck buries his face in his hair, exhaling through his nose steadily.
Trying to give the kid as many anchor points as possible.
When they get to the hospital, Buck’s barely able to throw Hondo a grateful look after he promises to check in with them when he can before a doctor’s leading them further into the hospital. Athena right by his side the entire way.
He wonders if Hondo or Deacon had called ahead to let the hospital know their situation in advance, as they’re led right into a private room. The door closing off the sounds of the hospital. Taking the initiative, Buck places Christopher on the bed before going to step back to the take the seat closest to the bed, but the minute he tries, Christopher whimpers.
He doesn’t try it again.
Instead, he scoops the boy back up into his arms and perches on the side of the bed, Christopher settling again once he’s in his lap.
He catches the doctor glancing over him before he focuses instead on checking Christopher over. Which, thankfully, is completed rather quickly. Soothing both Buck and Athena when the doctor explains that he doesn’t need to put a line in, since there’s no signs of malnourishment or dehydration. The only injury being the marks on his wrists.
What surprises Buck is when the doctor asks him to face the bottom of the bed, focusing on him rather than Christopher. Pinning him with a certain- almost evaluating and knowing -look as he waits for Buck to tuck Christopher into his side as he settles him so he can rest comfortably on the bed.
Just in case the kid falls asleep at all, Buck ends up resting against the pillows after the doctor raises the bed up to support the pair, his legs splayed out before him.
Turning to shoot the doctor a confused look when he reaches for his right arm, Buck bites back the startle when he presses against his forearm. Or rather yet another injury he hadn’t realised he’d received during the fight.
He wants to say that he’s rustier than he’d previously thought but knows that’s not the case. He hadn’t felt neither being shot nor grazed due to his focus being on something other than his own well-being.
It’d happened before, more than once.
He hadn’t felt the gash he’d received during the tsunami as he’d been solely focused on finding Chris instead.
As rude as it may be- and something he’d probably end up apologising for later on when he came back to himself -Buck ignored Athena as she watched the doctor carefully inspecting where a knife had apparently torn through his sleeve and caught the flesh there. The wound being bad enough to require a couple stitches to tie the sides of flesh together.
He’s appreciative as the doctor finishes up the stitches and sees to a cut over his eyebrow, applying a butterfly bandage, all in complete silence. Not wanting to give Christopher anything else to worry about.
During the stitches and the application of the bandage, Buck finds himself drifting, feeling safe enough with Athena present to drop his guard the little bit to not be conscious of his surroundings. The methodical movements of the doctor seeing to his wounds bringing him some comfort, something small to anchor himself onto, rather than having to worry about the memory of all that’d happened. And in such a narrow time frame, too.
He’d been in the hospital twice, in a single day, for two separate reasons.
He remembers he was bad when he was younger, with how frequently he’d end up in the hospital or just injured in general, but he was never quite this bad.
Maybe that said more than it needed to.
Not too long passes before the silence of the room is being disrupted by the group of people abruptly pouring into the room. The door bursting open setting off alarms in him before he settles back down again once he takes note of the new additions to the room.
All he can focus on is Eddie.
Or rather the near frantic look on his face and the tense set of his shoulders. Both of which soon relax somewhat the millisecond he spots both his son and Buck resting on the hospital bed.
Buck doesn’t have long to look his partner over too much before he’s surging forward to wrap his arms around the two. Hugging them gently but firmly, as though he were afraid of them being stolen right out from his arms.
Luckily, the doctor had long since finished Buck’s stitches and had wrapped gauze around the injury, so Eddie falls into the space he’d previously been taking.
“Gracias a dios que ambos están bien,” Eddie breathes out, pulling back from the hug enough to rest his forehead against Christopher’s while his other hand slipped around the nape of Buck’s neck. Conveniently falling atop where the dart had previously been imbedded. “No se que haria si perdiera a alguno de ustedes.”
(Thank God you’re both alright. / I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.)
See, if this had been any other situation, that contact right there?
He would’ve melted.
Reluctantly, and too soon in his opinion, Eddie finally pulls back and away from the pair but only far enough to claim the chair closest to the bed.
Buck thinks it’s due to Eddie’s own shaking legs being unable to support him any longer.
His hypothesis being proven when Buck notes the trembling as Eddie carefully perches at the edge of the seat. Unwilling to allow any more distance between them than absolutely necessary.
When Christopher let out a miniscule whimper at no longer feeling his father’s touch, Buck doesn’t hesitate for a single moment before he’s carefully shifting him over to his right side. So he’s literally in the middle of both Buck and his dad. Buck swiftly yet expertly shifting him, so he still keeps solid contact against his torso at all times.
Eddie’s right hand rests on Christopher’s stomach, the same way he’s done since Christopher was young, in hopes of it providing comfort to the little boy. His other gently grasping onto the muscle at Buck’s bicep, needing the anchor to his best friend as well.
Needing the proof that they’re right in front of him, that they haven’t gone anywhere.
None of the others interrupt the moment, nor when the doctor enters back into the room, not even pausing at the sight of the new visitors. Instead looking right to Eddie as the Texan meets his gaze.
“Edmundo Diaz, I presume?”
“That’s me. How are they?” he answers, question launching from him as he doesn’t even bother hiding the desperation audible. Although, as it seems, he’s not the only one as the rest of the 118 hang onto every word leaving the doctor’s mouth. Hen clinging onto Chimney’s sleeve in some form of support for not only her friend but herself as well. An equal balance of give and take.
So, as the doctor provides the much-needed answers, the relief soon floods the room. Soothing frayed nerves with ease.
“Mr Buckley on the other hand, will need to rest, ice down his bruises.” Shooting Buck with a certain look again, which Buck simply ignores in favour of muttering soft unintelligible words into Christopher’s hair to soothe him. ”And to watch the stitches in his arm. In fact, I’m surprised that he was even out of his hospital bed in the first place, due to the drugs still leaving his system. Normally, there’d be some lasting effects. So, that would need to be kept an eye on.”
“I’m fine,” the words leave him before he even thinks about it. Registering the looks on his team’s faces, especially Eddie’s, and needing to say something. Especially when his partner soon zones in on the white gauze wrapped around his forearm when he catches sight of it peeking out from beneath the tear in his sleeve. His hand sliding down his arm to run along the edge, touch incredibly light.
Also being that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near the spotlight. Not when Christopher is far more important than him. He doesn’t want to take anything away from where their worries should lie.
They’re basically his default response at this point.
“No, Buck. You’re not fine, you’re going to take it easy. But it’s a relief that we’ve got you both back, safe and sound.” Looking over at Bobby, Buck notes that he’s saying the words more for his own comfort than Buck’s, hovering next to Athena. Whose expression should probably concern him but, alas, doesn’t as he can’t bring himself to feel any of it.
He’d worry about that later.
Both Bobby and Athena have always been protective of him, he knows that- he’d be an idiot not to. Obviously, Bobby being there for that bit longer before Athena soon adopted him. Like the parents he wished he could’ve had, the ones who actually cared and supported him.
Or showed it at least.
It never failed to make him feel all warm inside whenever they showed that parental side around him.
So, when the doctor left, saying about gathering their discharge papers, Buck simply turned his attention solely to Christopher. Whose head had grown that little bit heavier where it lay pillowed on his right shoulder. The entire experience having drained him completely, and finally feeling safe enough to close his eyes and let himself sleep.
Buck ignored the protective looks not only Athena, but Bobby were wearing, as he could practically see the plans forming in their mind about how to keep them all as close as possible for the foreseeable future.
It doesn’t surprise him when, the moment the doctor leaves, Athena’s filling the team in on the events of the raid. Where she’d found Buck, and who he was with, everyone making sense of the LAPD uniform he’s dressed in. That, and the bruises decorating his skin, physically looking like he’s been in a fight.
He doesn’t even know when he looks like right now.
He tries not to watch their reactions but it’s difficult when that’s something he’d been trained to do since the beginning, had been drilled into him well enough. To observe everything and anything, no matter if he thought it important or not. At the end of the day, it could be the difference to live another day.
He sometimes wonders when or if he’d ever let them all go. Ever get to a point where he’d simply walk into a room without observing the contents every time- for example.
So, he watches.
Watches the surprise and curious expressions form, shifting with concern and barely concealed frustration of it all. Of Buck deciding to throw himself into that type of situation without a word to any of them.
The more he watches, the more he wants to run.
Because they’re getting closer, they’re slowly bridging the gap between the two parts of him, and he has no idea how to deal with that.
This is what Pit’s good at, completing the mission, but he feels off with having his team around him right now. Feels off having Christopher’s small frame cuddled against his solid one, sleeping peacefully in the very arms which have caused pain. Can inflict such pain, and has done so, multiple times.
Feels off without Buck’s frame of mind.
He doesn’t want to hurt Chris, doesn’t want to hurt any one of them.
Emotions are Buck’s field of expertise. He doesn’t shy away from feeling anything and everything, from wearing his heart on his sleeve and dealing with the consequences. Able to provide comfort to whoever needs it with the ease of breathing. Taking it all in his stride.
But he can’t fully be Buck right now. Far from it.
His crew don’t know a single thing about who he truly is, of who he’d been. Bobby being the closest one to finding out, but he’d crafted that story of flunking out, had worn his mask with proficiency. None of his family ever having a need to question any of it.
He doesn’t know how they’d react to finding what lurked beneath the surface. Doesn’t know how Eddie would react to how Buck had kept such a big part of himself from his partner.
He can’t process it all, not right now.
He needs to retreat from it all, give himself the space to try and flip the switch back, to continue keeping the parts of his life separate. Keeping everything and everyone in their allocated locations.
Dr. Copeland would warn him about how it wasn’t healthy to do as such, but he didn’t know what else to, it’d been this way since he started.
Buck doesn’t realise his body’s working on autopilot until he’s carefully resting Christopher’s head on the pillow, tucking the blanket around him now that he doesn’t have Buck’s body warmth anymore. He remembers how he’d trembled before, combination from the shock and the chill in the air, something he hadn’t even felt since he’s always run hot.
Despite wanting to make the boy as comfortable as he possibly can, Buck also wants out of the room. The weight of everyone’s eyes on him being too heavy, burning holes in him, threatening to reveal too much. Already working on his escape plan, would worry about apologising and explaining his disappearance at a later date, when Buck was back at the helm again.
He should’ve known he wouldn’t get far.
Five steps, specifically.
Five steps, before Eddie’s somehow on his feet and blocking his escape, putting an immediate stop to him leaving. Athena pushing to her feet to back him up, not that he would notice. Not with the way Eddie was looking at him, bodily blocking him, staring him down as he did so.
“Where do you think you’re going?” It was almost reminiscent of how things had turned out at the supermarket, yet so different as both men sized the other up, as the crew watched shocked at what was happening. Especially at the blank expression Buck wore.
Never before had Buck used his height and build as a weapon, almost challenging Eddie, who refused to back down due to the protective mode he’s in. The need to not only keep his family safe but in his direct line of vision, burning so bright it’s practically the fourth of July.
And the fact he’s just plain stubborn.
Like watching two alphas butt heads.
“The minute both you and Christopher are released, all three of us are going home. You’re not leaving my sight. Not only did my son get kidnapped today, but my best friend disappeared on me, Buck.”
Looking back on the conversation, remembering Eddie’s voice paired with the look in his eyes, it would later send a chill up his spine. At his best friend’s gravelly voice- whether it be due to lack of use, or the determination bleeding through -he’d never heard before. Had never sounded so deep or so dangerous.
Maybe it’s a good thing he’d felt numb through the entire ordeal.
“I called in a favour from a friend. I wasn’t failing Christopher a second time.” Voice neutral, Buck just watches Eddie, knowing he sounds nothing like their Buck and it’s unnerving them all. Also knowing that Eddie understands exactly where Buck’s standing- since he served -and knows he’s still in sentry mode, ready for action at a moment’s notice.
That, and Buck looks like he’s about to bolt, which is putting him on edge. But- of course -Eddie still doesn’t back down. Terrified that if he let his best friend walk through the door, he’d never see him again.
“You didn’t fail him, Buck. You were drugged, and still managed to take one of them out with you. Then when you were supposed to be in hospital- healing -you somehow got my son back. I don’t know how you managed it, any of it, but you did. And now you’re both here, where I can see you, and it’s going to stay that way.”
He doesn’t even need to look past Eddie to the door, or where the door would be if Athena wasn’t blocking it from view, to know that he probably wouldn’t make it past without effort. Athena apparently not the only one refusing to let Buck out of their direct line of sight if the sudden tension hovering over them all was anything to go by.
But when did he ever let a bit of resistance stop him?
“Don’t test me on this, Evan. You are not leaving my sight. That isn’t up for debate, you’re coming home with us, end of story”. Eddie stated, matter of fact, as Buck tries moving around him to no avail as Eddie simply sidesteps into his path again.
Refusing to budge, knowing Buck can get past him easily but won’t because he won’t hurt him. Knows it like he knows his own name.
And the fact that he’s not at 100% certainly helped. Knowing he could stand there and outlast Buck. Despite even the stubbornness keeping the man on his feet.
“Now, park it,” nudging Buck over to perch at the edge of Chris’ bed, as he retakes his seat. Keeping an eye on his partner all the while, almost daring him to move, as his left-hand returns to rest upon his son’s stomach again. Wanting Buck close to his son just in case he wakes up and doesn’t find Buck where he was when he fell asleep.
Feeling unnerved at how distant Buck’s acting, Eddie tries not to think about the last time he’d witnessed this type of behaviour from his partner. Knowing it will only make him feel more frustrated and that certainly won’t help matters any.
Damn Abby strikes again.
None of the crew mutter a single word, still surprised at the display from the partners who haven’t butted heads like that in a long time. Tension slowly leaving them when Buck takes a seat on the bed. All of them seeing Buck as an adorable Golden Retriever, so they have no idea how to handle him bearing his fangs for them to see. When that domesticated animal turns back on its primal instincts.
Looks like there’s more to their youngest member than meets the eye.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. Since we know how you tend to refer to injuries. This bruise of yours, how bad are we talking? And how’d you even get it in the first place? Weren’t you wearing a vest?” Hen’s question doesn’t fair well at breaking the tension lingering in the air. The paramedic knowing that the bruise in question the doctor had mentioned didn’t pertain to the few scattered and visible on his face.
Everyone on edge about Buck’s answer, knowing the firefighter’s experience with injuries and his reaction to them, and the fact that the bruise was apparently in an area easily hidden.
However, before Buck could even consider how to go about answering the question, Athena beats him to the punch. Which is- in any means -a good thing considering her protective tendencies, and that she won’t impede the truth. Not when it comes to their family.
“Because he got shot,” locking eye contact, Athena doesn’t back down one bit, “didn’t you, Buckaroo?”.
“You got shot?!” The struggle to keep his voice down to not wake Christopher is evident, as Eddie’s concern just skyrockets. “The hell, Evan?”
The brunet’s right hand goes straight for the hem of Buck’s shirt- or rather the LAPD uniform he’s still wearing -but Buck catches his wrist in a quick motion, looking back at him. The Texan feeling the shock near seizing him, both at the horrifying titbit of truth and at how his wrist feels like it’s been set aflame, from where Buck’s grasping it.
He’s never seen his partner as- dare he say it -deadly before, but as close as he is now, he can see the glint of something in his eyes. Pulsing within him like a heartbeat.
Coiled like a snake about to strike.
Eddie knows Buck’s good at what he does, it was more than evident since the moment he joined, how he’d stayed so damn calm in the face of a potential demise. How Buck has always been Bobby’s go-to guy for the types of manuvers some would struggle with since he performs them with such ease and grace. Buck never hesitates, simple as.
Then there’s how much emotion he carries with him, in a seemingly endless supply. Providing victims with an anchor even in the most terrifying of situations, he manages to not only keep them calm but sometimes get a smile on their face.
But- with everything considered -he’s seeing his partner in a whole new light.
“I’m fine. The vest did its job. Besides, I barely noticed, in fact I didn’t until Street noted it.” Buck’s voice was low as the glint returned, sending a bolt of something up Eddie’s spine. So much so, he barely heard the latter part of what he said before Bobby was adding in his part to the conversation, voice shocked and chiding as he spoke.
“You didn’t notice that you got shot?”
“I had more important things to worry about.”
And with that, Buck just looks back over to Christopher, like it should be obvious after seeing the boy why he did what he did. But even with the rest of the room consisting of parents, and one soon-to-be parent, neither Eddie nor Hen ceased in shooting Buck concerned looks. So much so that Buck closes his eyes, not able to stop himself from snapping out, while still keeping his voice low.
“I’m not going to drop dead. It’s a bruise. I’ve had worse, much worse.”
And wasn’t that the pièce de resistance?
A lot of things happen once the doctor returns with both Buck and Christopher’s discharge papers, Buck not going AMA this time as not only Eddie gives him a clear look warning him against even humouring the thought.
Nobody’s going to be letting him forget that.
Buck’s basically shepherded into Bobby’s truck as he and Athena drive Eddie, Christopher, and Buck back home to Eddie’s. Christopher remaining asleep through it all.
With ample time to just watch his partner from the safety of the back seat, where the three of them sit as they’re driven back home, Eddie notes how steady Buck’s hands are as he texts someone. Not able to get past the fact that, apparently, he doesn’t know all the parts of his best friend as the man in question turns his gaze out the window.
Since Athena had looked into Buck’s sudden disappearance from the hospital and discovering his ties to a LAPD S.W.A.T Sergeant, Eddie had been trying to piece it all together. Then adding in the pieces of Buck actually being present for the raid and rescuing not only Christopher. It was all leading him to an answer he wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to handle.
He’s always known how well Buck can hide parts of himself, but he always considered it in regard to feelings, not a secret military past.
He really doesn’t want to think about what that exactly entails.
Not wanting to have to think of it, Eddie remembers how Buck had expertly hidden his true emotions when dealing with the aftermath of saving Sam, the night they’d bumped into Abby. How well he’s able to just push it to the backburner until he can deal with it at a later date.
While he knows it should change his perspective of Buck in general, he only finds it just adds to it all the more, revealing the hidden depth none of them had been privy to. Adding in the mystery of it all, and Eddie loves mysteries.
Once they arrive at the Diaz residence, Eddie plays dirty, knowing Buck won’t try and bolt if he’s carrying his son. Not feeling at all guilty as he meets Buck’s knowing gaze, but feeling too drained to smirk in response, Eddie just settles on knowing that Buck understands exactly what Eddie’s doing.
No matter what, both men know Buck can never deny Christopher a damn thing. And Eddie only takes advantage of that fact when he has no other choice, or if he’s just being decidedly petty.
Despite his tactics, Bobby and Athena still herd the trio inside, Bobby already promising that they’ll come over in the morning to check up on them all. Shooting worried glances at where Buck’s disappeared into Christopher’s bedroom to put him to bed.
Athena being the one to ask if Eddie will be alright for the night or if he needs them to stay the night. To which he shakes his head, thanking them for the thought, knowing all they need is one another right now.
When Buck eventually returns, long enough passing that Eddie fears he’d actually vaulted through Chris’ bedroom window, the duo bow out for the night.
As soon as he can, Eddie has Buck changing out of the LAPD uniform and into spare clothes Buck always tends to leave at Eddie’s for when he spends the night. Eddie needing him out of the LAPD shirt. It doing nothing but serving as a visible reminder of all that’s happened, and how close he’d come to losing two of the most important people in his life.
Again.
With working at a fire station, and generally changing in front of each other quite frequently, neither man has any qualms as Eddie watches Buck change. Scanning his torso as he does, categorising each and every single bruise and scrape, which luckily only consists of bruises. Finally able to have a full and proper look at the gash on Buck’s right forearm, eerily similar to the one he’d received during the tsunami, just on the other side.
After serving in the Army for as long as he has and working as a firefighter, Eddie knows exactly what and how Buck got his bruises from. Knows the most probable cause for each and every single one of them, and he doesn’t know how to handle that knowledge. Doesn’t know how to handle his mind piecing it all together in a fight right before his very eyes. Imagining the mercenaries attacking Buck, like they had before in the video steadily growing viral.
Eyes running over where Buck had taken multiple punches, probably to land his own, or acting in a defensive manner. Skin crawling at the sheer volume of them, and positions.
Then there was the bruise.
The one, he knows, the doctor was talking about. The one he can’t seem to look past, eyes anchoring themselves to the sight of it on Buck’s skin, right over his heart-
Bloody hell.
Familiar nausea climbs back up his throat the longer he looks at the bruise. A bruise he’s seen countless times before, serving overseas, the one that comes with a bullet hitting a vest but not penetrating through. One he’d never thought- hoped, prayed -he’d see on his partner. Not Buck.
Never Buck.
He understands LA can get crazy, with some of the people living in it, but they’re not LAPD, he never thought they’d have to deal with guns. Period. He thought it’d be safer than when he’d served.
Thought he’d left all of that behind in the desert.
Buck’s sigh breaks him out of his head, Eddie glancing up in time to see him holding out a tube of cream to help with the bruising, the only thing the doctor had given him.
However, he’s locked in place as his gaze darts between the tube in his hands and Buck. Not knowing how to proceed from his current place, feeling like his body is lodged in quicksand. Doesn’t know where to go first, so many words silently moving through his mind.
But as usual Buck knows exactly what he needs without Eddie having to say a damn word.
“If it’ll give you some peace of mind to check me over, yourself. Go for it.”
This right here, is what Eddie had needed earlier.
Why he knows that no matter what, Buck will always be there to support him. To give him a safety net to fall back into if needed, even when it should be Eddie looking after Buck.
At one point, it had actually concerned him, how well Buck knew him. How well he could read him like a book when hardly anyone else could, how he thought he’d been difficult to read, but not for Buck. Within a week, they’d gone from enemies to partners, to best friends who could work together so effortlessly, other teams had honestly thought they were psychic.
He’d never had someone like Buck before.
Someone who supported him and his decisions, regarding his own life in general and for Christopher, something nobody had done. Not even his own parents, which was its own can of worms.
He’d had friends before, had even had a best friend before, but they didn’t come close to what he had with Buck.
The trust, the understanding, the respect.
It was more than friendship, more than being best friends, it delved into a pool he was hesitant to name. Because it was so good and pure, and something so rare, he didn’t want to destroy it or harm it in any way. He didn’t want to lose it. He’s not too sure he’d survive if he did, wasn’t sure how he or Christopher would cope. Since it wasn’t just for Eddie.
No, it extended to Christopher too.
Buck shared such an incredible bond with Christopher. Sure, they were friends- best friends, as Christopher had bragged -but his son also saw Buck as a secondary parent. And the way Buck sees Christopher? Not as some disabled kid who he thinks needs protecting but as any other kid, encouraging him to do anything and everything, despite his limitations. He’s always researching more Christopher can do.
He loves Shannon- he doubts it’ll ever truly fade, she is the mother of his child, and his first real love -but it had never been this easy with her. Never just got him, understood what he needed without him having to say it, and he and Buck aren’t even together.
Not that he doesn’t wish they could be.
It had been painful when he’d returned from being discharged, and not just from the fact he’d been shot and was recovering, it was everything else. How everyone was expecting him to move on to the next chapter of his life, Shannon asking him to move to LA to be closer to her mother.
Things were just going so fast, so quick, it’d given him whiplash. Felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Didn’t have the opportunity to even heal completely- mind and body -from being in a warzone.
He wishes things could’ve been different, that he and Shannon could’ve raised Christopher together as parents to their incredible son in LA. Even if they hadn’t been together for it, how he could’ve introduced her to Buck and his 118 and extended family.
He likes to think that Buck and Shannon would’ve gotten along like a house on fire, started plotting against Eddie together, taking the mickey out of him. Christopher of course siding with them.
Shifting his grip on the tube of cream before it explodes in his hands, Eddie compels himself to take a breath. A breath he can finally take, knowing everyone is exactly where they’re supposed to be.
Letting his medic side take over, applying the cream to each bruise carefully and thoroughly, Eddie also takes the opportunity Buck’s given him to check his partner definitely isn’t hiding any other injuries. Runs his hands over Buck, ensuring everything’s as fine as the doctor assured them it was.
Chest feeling lighter and a weight lifting from his shoulders when he confirms for himself that, besides the obvious, Buck is okay.
His ribs are intact.
No internal bleeding.
No punctured lung.
No GSWs he’d hidden.
Buck is okay.
He truly hates the sight of that damn bruise staining his best friend’s skin, and right over his heart at that. However, compared to what could’ve happened had the vest not caught the bullet and instead let it go through?
He’d take it.
After noting how Eddie had finally paused in his motions, Buck took the step back to grab and settle the sleep shirt over his head. Removing the sight of the bruise he now knows lurks beneath the material.
“I’ll take the couch.”
Oh hell no.
Buck forcefully exhales through his nose when, yet again, Eddie blocks the doorway. “I’m not going to leave; I’ll still be here in the morning.” Buck states, like speaking the words aloud can somehow placate his partner- or distract him long enough for him to get through the damn door.
“Oh I know you’ll be. Because you’ll be staying in here with me, tonight.”
“I doubt I’ll be sleeping tonight,” saying more than just those words. Saying he can’t sleep tonight because he’s going to be on alert mode. Will be too on-edge to feel comfortable enough or safe enough to even close his eyes- which has nothing to do with where he is but rather the state, he’ll still be in.
“You are sleeping in here,” Eddie says the words like they’re obvious, but also with a tinge of desperation. Not caring if Buck can hear it audibly in his voice or not, knowing he needs Buck to stay with him.
Normally, Eddie hates letting himself be vulnerable in front of someone, but this is Buck, and he knows he won’t hold it against him. Not like his parents would, who seem to want to take any and all forms of weakness and turn it against him, use it right back at him. Take it and throw it back in his face.
Knows it could be another form of playing dirty, as it’s not just Christopher that Buck can’t say no to, but Eddie needs to feel Buck there with him. To physically see him, as though by having him near, he’ll stand a high chance of Buck keeping the nightmares away. Like his presence alone would scare them off.
That and Eddie’s terrified of letting him out of his sight, not after his disappearing act at the hospital earlier.
The thing is, with Eddie in general, when it comes to emotions, he’s not exactly as vocal as most others in the ways people are generally used to. He’ll rarely say the blunt words of ‘I need you’ or something or other, as it’s too vulnerable.
But he does say it.
The trick being to look beyond the words he’s saying- as it’s more just a mask to cover up where the truth lies -and instead pay attention to how he’s saying them, and especially his body. It all lies in the way he holds himself and the look in his eyes. It becomes like a voice of its own, if you’re paying attention, that is.
Eyes are the window to the soul, as everyone claims anyway.
And Buck’s been paying attention since day one.
How could he not?
Listening to the rhythm of Eddie’s breaths, Buck’s gaze traces over the pattern on the ceiling. Knowing if he dares even humour getting up, it’ll only serve to wake his partner up, and that’s definitely not something he needs right now. Not after he’s actually relaxed enough to close his eyes.
After his best friend had basically begged- in Eddie’s own way -him to stay with him, Buck couldn’t bring himself to say no. Not when he could see the anxiety still bubbling at the surface.
He can’t say no to either Diaz, and Eddie knows it for a fact, sometimes using it against him. But only in times when he feels he has no other hand to play. Buck trusts in his best friend not to use his Achilles heel against him.
Not counting when he uses it in humour- like when he gets him to sleep over to make pancakes in the morning since they both know Eddie can’t cook.
Now, Buck knows he doesn’t have to worry about being on guard right now, considering all people working for the underground operation had been arrested. There was no risk of Christopher being kidnapped, especially not right out of his own bed in his own home, not with everyone on their toes tonight. It would be too much of a risk to take, in the fear of someone managing to escape and come after his family again.
It doesn’t matter though, he can’t keep his mind from theorising all the different ways that someone could break in, how they could get their hands on Christopher for a second time.
So, he’d done a perimeter check, ensuring all doors and windows were locked with Eddie of course following very closely behind.
The only way he’d actually let him out of the bedroom- like that doesn’t sound weird to say -was Buck taking his hand and placing it on his shoulder. He’d had to bite back against how familiar it had felt, considering that’s how he’d communicated with his former team whilst serving. Where they prioritised efficiency and the element of surprise. Working as a team, communicating, despite not able to audibly speak a single word.
Eddie had let him do it all before corralling him back into his bedroom again, closing the door behind them, and audibly sighing in relief.
And now he’s here.
With nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Can’t risk waking Eddie for anything, even avoiding the abyss that is his own mind.
So, he distracts himself with thoughts of how surprised he’d been when Eddie had finally closed his damn eyes and drifted off. But then again, with the roller coaster of emotions he’d been subjected to, it’s not really all too surprising. Can imagine how it must’ve been for him, but despite briefly cursing himself for causing Eddie pain, he can’t regret it.
So much so, that even his own stubbornness hadn’t been strong enough in the face of his own exhaustion.
Glancing over at his best friend, his partner, Buck just took in the sight before him. Not sure if he’d ever have the opportunity to do so again.
Tracing over all of his features as the man in question slept through, lying on his side facing Buck, as he’d finally fallen asleep just watching him. If they weren’t as close as they were, it might’ve been considered creepy.
As he just relished in being able to do this without fear of being caught, frustration surged as the numbness continued to blanket him. Muting how he would’ve responded- what he would be feeling at this current moment -had he not flipped the switch earlier in the day. Where he would normally be seeing colours so vibrant, it would steal his breath, it was like it was all dulled. Only focusing on the objects themselves and not seeing the details included.
It’d how he’d been trained. To not focus on that which you didn’t need to, to block out anything which would interfere with your mission.
Including his own damn emotions.
Sighing out as he rolled onto his back, clenching his eyes shut in agitation at not being able to fully soak up this moment for what it was. His hands raising to push the heels of his palms into his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d last had to flip this switch, since he had to worry about any of this.
He was worried he wouldn’t know how to flip it back again.
Right now, it was like he was watching his life from a movie screen. And he hated it. This was his family, two of the people he cared for most, and the only thing he wanted was to retreat as far as possible from them.
Removing his palms from his face, Buck just looked once more to the ceiling. Carefully considering his options as he lied there. Ranging from just sneaking out and leaving behind a note- he’d smack himself upside the head later for even considering it, since that’s how Shannon had left him -to just distracting himself in the kitchen. As long as they had the ingredients, he could always bake something.
It was a possibility.
However, as he thought about every available option, Buck soon realised how heavy his eyelids felt. Knowing the events of the day had finally caught up to him and were demanding he now rest like he should’ve earlier, he settled deeper into the mattress. Glancing over at Eddie and grasping tightly onto the feeling of comfort the man provided so unknowingly, that they were all safe in their beds.
Looking back, he calls it a combination of the physicality of the day and the aftereffects of the drugs, but he sleeps through the night without a trace of nightmares.
He really should stop lying to himself.
The minute he opens his eyes, he’s out of the bed as carefully and as slowly as he possibly can be, to not wake the other man still bundled up in the sheets. Even going as far as replacing where his body had laid with his pillow, just in the case Eddie rolls over.
And he says that Buck’s the octopus.
Considering Eddie was the one attached to his side, arm slung over his chest as though even in sleep, he still feared Buck slipping from his grasp.
Checking on Christopher quietly, taking immediate comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest, Buck nods to himself in confirmation before moving on. Taking the opportunity being the only one up to retreat to the kitchen. Making himself a cup of coffee as he just let his thoughts start circling, knowing if he put the TV on, Eddie would hear it and wake up.
Even getting to a point where he’d just stared at the gauze on his forearm, trying to figure out when he’d sustained the injury. Not able to help but humour the thought of being symmetrical with fading scars to both his forearms.
So, that’s how he spent the first hour and a half until Eddie’s internal alarm woke him up at 7am.
Buck placed Eddie’s coffee mug down just as the man himself slid into the kitchen, eyes wide and panicked until he spotted Buck. Having noticed how he wasn’t where he was supposed to be the minute that he’d opened his eyes and woke up enough to take in what he was seeing- or, correction, what he wasn’t.
“Morning,” sipping at his own coffee, his actual first cup since he’d long since let the previous one go cold, as he watched the Texan.
Instead of responding, Eddie just took note of the scene before taking a seat.
“How long you been up?” Sleep still clinging to his voice, Buck glanced over at him from where he’d been leaning against the counter.
“Hour and a bit, not too long.”
True to their word, Athena and Bobby were soon arriving, greeting Buck as he let them in. Sighing when he notices how they both look him over, like he’s somehow still hiding an injury from them.
“Don’t you two start,” nodding his head at Eddie walking down the corridor, having gotten dressed “he hasn’t let me out of his sight. I don’t need anyone else adding to it”.
Leaving it at that as he wanders back into the kitchen to make the two a coffee, Bobby joining him as they make a start on breakfast.
“How’s he been?” Athena asks Eddie, glancing towards where Christopher’s room was.
“Hasn’t woken up yet, slept through the night without a sound. I think it’s to do with the exhaustion of the entire experience. But I do worry about him when he has a moment to remember what happened.”
Nodding along with him, Athena threw a sorrowful look at Eddie as she responded, “that kid’s been through too much already”.
“Don’t I know it”.
“How about you, Buck?”
Buck’s slight startle when the conversation turns to him is evident, not having expected it. Unsettled that the spotlight’s been cast onto him.
Going to open his mouth to respond, Athena cuts him off, having seen the look on his face, “don’t you lie to me, now”.
Sudden anger flares before he can bite down on it, “I’m not the one who got kidnapped”. Forcing himself to just look at a spot on the far wall and turn his attention on getting himself to just breathe. Nothing good comes from anger, he knows that. The last thing he needs- or wants -to do is aim his anger towards any of his family.
In fact, he’d used that against the mercenaries they’d fought in the raid.
“And yet, you still turned up at the hospital with Christopher, looking like you’d been through the ringer yourself.” Bobby jumps in, reminding Buck of the whole incident with the windscreen during that night on Halloween. How worried he’d been after hearing what had happened and the fact he’d been taken to the hospital.
Not knowing how to respond to that without revealing more than he wanted, Buck simply drinks his coffee. Not only providing him with some warmth but also an anchor, as the hot liquid touched his oesophagus- not exactly scalding but close enough.
But Bobby wasn’t done.
“And then there’s the fact that you got shot,” the words are not meant to be harsh, merely stating a fact, but the emotion in his captain’s voice is enough for Buck to finally look at him.
When he does, he catches the expression on the man’s face before it fades. Enough to know Bobby had been visibly fighting back a wince at his own words, the pain at having to even voice them still paining him.
“Doesn’t count.” If they all weren’t looking at him already, he muses their heads would’ve probably snapped his way. Especially when spoken without reaction like Bobby’s. “I was wearing a vest, and it didn’t go through, it’s nothing more than a bruise. It’ll fade in enough time.”
“That doesn’t make things any better, Buck. You still got shot.”
It’s funny when Athena basically tells him off, in not so many words, because he always expects her to suddenly use his actual name. Like Maddie does when she’s mad at him, or like Eddie now apparently, but it never happens.
He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
“I don’t even understand why you were even there in the first place?” Pushing his mug to the side, not even bothering to entertain that his concentration is on anything other than Buck, Bobby leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
He knows he’s frowning; he doesn’t have to be told that from anyone. He can feel the confusion, like how could Bobby expect him to be anywhere else?
“Christopher was in there.”
The ‘obviously I would be’ of his sentence is unspoken but still rings through the room, silencing it with just those simple words.
Eddie’s fingers clench in the material of his joggers, glad he chose them over his jeans since they’re softer material. He has no choice, not with how overwhelmed he feels right now. Finds himself falling further in love with best friend, he feels like he’s drowning in the emotion of it all. So raw, so powerful, and so overwhelming, it actually steals his breath away.
It doesn’t surprise him how much Buck loves Christopher. He stopped being surprised long ago, when the man did so many things for his son that nobody has ever done, not willingly. Not even Chris’ own mother had stayed, had left him behind so easily. Just the little things that steadily build up, before the larger things knocked him so off balance, he didn’t know how to hold on.
Like the tsunami, and how Buck had kept Chris safe, and how he’d continued searching throughout the day, bleeding out all the while, until he was safe in his father’s arms. How he’d pushed past every single limit put in his way, soldiered through it all, as though nothing could keep him away.
But then this?
Just how far would Buck go for his son, to keep him safe?
It never stops him from worrying about Buck’s own well-being in the process of keeping Chris safe. Since, apparently, that’s become part of their relationship. Whilst Buck is worrying about others, Eddie watches Buck’s back, makes sure the man’s safe because he worries about him.
Because he’s so in love with him, he can’t bear to lose him.
Honestly, it never fails to leave him flabbergasted at how much Buck truly cares. How someone, with such a traumatic upbringing, could have a heart so large he has to wear parts of it on his sleeve.
“Things could’ve been much worse, Buck. Thank God you were wearing a vest, but what if you had internal bleeding?” Bobby’s voice brings him back to the surface again, zoning back in to the conversation as Bobby’s concern didn’t let up, if anything it grew worse.
“Like I could bleed out with Eddie watching me like a hawk,” turning to give the man in question a look, Eddie just stares right back. Not feeling a shred of guilt for it, considering Buck’s history when it comes to injuries and being deemed reckless. “Besides, I know what internal bleeding feels like. I was and am fine.”
Before anyone can speak another word, Christopher ambles down the corridor, looking around wearily before heading straight over to his dad. The pair whispering to each other before Christopher looks up and races over to Buck, not happy until Buck’s picked him up and settled him on his lap.
The reminder of how she’d initially found them sits a little too heavy in Athena’s gut.
“Thank you for saving me, Bucky.” The boy’s voice is barely audible, only reason why the others had heard him being that the room’s so silent, they could hear a pin drop.
“You never have to thank me for that, Superman. I’m sorry you were scared.” While it hadn’t cleared completely, Buck’s glad the numbness has receded enough for him to provide more comfort than he was able to the night prior.
Receded enough to be somewhat of Chris’ Bucky.
Remembering barely able to choke out the words which would’ve normally flowed from him, so easily.
“It was scary, but not as scary as the tsunami. And I knew, just like back then, that you would save me from that, too.” Feeling Buck freeze at his words, knowing he still carried the guilt of the day, Christopher just tightened his grip, not wanting to be put down. Wanting to be as close to his Bucky as possible. “And you did, you always save me, Bucky.”
Unable to say anything in response, Buck does the only thing he’s capable of, he hugs the boy closer, eyes shut tight. The contact helping him breathe easier, as the familiar vice of guilt once again coils around him, like it had done earlier.
Ignoring the burning fury curling in at the ends of his vision. Fury that he had let something like this happen again, let Chris slip through his fingers. Fury at the people who had caused it in the first place, that stole Chris from his arms, and bitter desire to go teach them an unforgettable lesson.
Feeling Christopher there, and the love the kid has for him and vice versa, it makes it easier to breathe as that numbness slowly begins to ease. Nothing being strong enough to resist this national treasure of a kid, not even his own rage at himself and those he had to fight to get Chris back.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep you safe in the first place.” Before he’s even finished, Christopher’s already shaking his head in disagreement, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye.
“Wasn’t your fault, Bucky. You didn’t stop fighting. Even when that bad man shot you,” Chris pauses as his bottom lip starts to tremble. Grip tightening on Buck as he almost whimpers out. “They hurt you. They wouldn’t stop hurting you. I didn’t like it, I don’t like it when you get hurt, Bucky. I hate it!”
Christopher slowly starts to unravel, trembling only getting worse as he remembers how he got taken, and what he’d seen.
Whimpers soon became sobs, ripping from his chest as he falls apart in Buck’s arms. “Why did they keep hurting you, even when you were laying on the floor? Why d-didn’t they stop?”
As Christopher descends into non-stop tears, Buck tugs him to his chest, cradling the back of his head as he buries his face in his unruly mop of curls. Whispering soothing words to him to try and settle the boy back down again, apologising that he had to watch that.
Just watching the scene before them is painful, pure and simple.
Having to listen as Christopher explains what happened to Buck from his point of view is painful and does nothing but add to the fire that’s already burning brightly. Adding fuel to the fire. The fact that this even happened to Christopher, that people had the nerve to take him away from his family, to traumatise him even further.
She was seething.
And looking over at her husband only confirms that the man’s in the same boat as she is.
However, her fire is nothing compared to Eddie’s as she spots the enraged look on his face, how he’s probably tempted to go after the men responsible. You never ever mess with a person’s child. The only thing grounding the man being his son and Buck.
What catches her gaze though, is the sight of Buck’s hand clamped tightly around his jeans. The skin stretched around his knuckles, now pale white. Glancing up to look at Buck’s face, still partially buried in Christopher’s hair, Athena still manages to catch sight of how tight his jaw is clenched.
She still remembers how long Buck had burdened himself with the guilt from losing Christopher to the power of mother nature. How he still is yet to fully forgive himself for that. Like he could somehow blame himself for not being able to resist the power of a tsunami.
So now bringing this into it?
She can only hope that Christopher and Eddie help to unburden him, to convince him he’s not to blame for any of this. That, just like previously, he’d gone above and beyond to get Christopher back, to bring him home. Even putting himself at risk in the process.
Knowing the family is going to cling together until the waves settle back down again,
The rest of their visit moves along slowly, tension still choking the air around them, not fully dissipating. Christopher remaining a steady weight in Buck’s arms, Eddie shuffling closer to soothe his son enough for the sobbing to cease. Tiring the kid out enough for return him to slumber once more.
Athena not missing Eddie’s hand settling over Buck’s white-knuckled grip, worming his fingers through the defences, entwining them with Buck’s. Like some silent form of communication.
The conversation somehow avoids becoming awkward, instead turning to trying to distract them all with talks of a potential BBQ coming up.
It’s enough for now.
When Buck works his next shift, everything is still tense.
It’s not like it was following his return after the lawsuit, that was a tension permeating the air so much, it felt like smoke suffocating him every single time. No, this tension is lighter but still heavy enough to keep the station from its usual light atmosphere.
From the laughter ringing from the loft as people play Mario Kart or taking the mickey out of some crappy TV. From the cheery conversation sparking up from a corner of the house, ranging from random topics to just plain weird.
The eyes on him is familiar though, that part is the same. Just this time it’s without the glaring or nasty looks, now it’s just like being watched at a zoo.
He gets it.
He can practically taste everyone’s concern for him.
Hell, Eddie still refuses to let him out of his sight, and it even extends to Hen and Chimney. They’ve still got his back as they usually do though. Eddie still acts normal, just maybe with a bit more physical contact this time, seems like he’s more content when he’s somehow touching him. Like an arm around his shoulder or hand on his arm, etc. It not being enough if he can just see him.
However, he also knows he’s worrying his crew because of one little thing. Something that they seem to be waiting for, like the other shoe to drop.
He hasn’t broken down.
No sudden outbursts, no fits of rage or sudden onslaughts of tears. Nothing. And it’s genuinely worrying them all because of it. Buck knows that Bobby’s even keeping Athena updated about it, as Chimney’s doing with Maddie. They’re all worried he’s bottling it up.
It’s just, he’s not bottling it up.
He’s dealing with it but in a different way to how most are used to. Focused it instead on work and helping people when and how he can, using it to propel himself that much more and faster. He’s learnt it’s a healthy way of processing it.
Nonetheless, the numbness is still there, he hasn’t been able to flip the switch back. The ‘soldier mode’ still looming, Pit at the forefront of his mind, and he doesn’t know to turn it off.
Maybe that’s also something that’s unnerving them. That he’s still not acting like their usual Buck. Filling the silence with random trivia facts he’d recently found out and can’t keep to himself anymore or teasing Eddie or Chimney. Hell even Bobby sometimes, which generally ends with Bobby swatting a tea towel at him and Buck just ducking in time to avoid it- darting away with a chuckle.
It’s as though none of them know how to process a Buck they’ve never seen before. Being used to him acting a certain way and knowing how to respond to that, as that’s all they’ve known from him. This type of behaviour, practically the stark opposite of how he normally is, has uprooted them all so far from their comfort zone.
Shaken them all up to such an extent, he’s left them all reeling.
They don’t know how to act around him now.
The world around him being in better clarity for him, able to process things more effectively and perform to a more advanced capability than previously. Which is saying something. However, that also comes with disadvantages, like not feeling the fear people would generally do when in a high-stakes situation. Just focuses on what he’s got to do, his mission, and his team around him.
So, yeah, not fun. Not when that efficiency he’d been praised for once upon a time is the very reason why his crew is so intimidated around him. Buck normally gave his everything on a scene, it’s just how he is, but when that is then heightened to a point, they’d never seen from him before.
Definitely not fun.
At some point during their shift, the 118 get called out to a scene with LAPD and SWAT, both already present. LAPD circling the building with multiple squad vehicles.
As usual, the moment Bobby’s feet touch down on the tarmac, Athena’s appearing and giving him an update of the current situation. Which can’t be good considering the look they both share.
Leaving the pair to converse- knowing the captain will update them himself, along with their orders -Eddie instead glances over at his partner. He’s still firmly in his protective phase of not being able to let the man out of his sight, so he’s constantly aware of where Buck is at all times. Should probably try taking a breath and forcing himself to pull back, even to give his best friend a little room to breathe, but he’s physically unable to do so. And he’s not subtle about it either, but luckily, they usually end up being paired together, which he thanks every deity for.
He knows it’s something he needs to work on, but scenes like these don’t exactly help, what with Buck able to just slip out of sight effortlessly- as he’s been shown oh so recently. A large building which would generally be on fire, however, this is not fortunately.
However, it is surrounded with police personnel of all calibres, and that’s not much better in any sense.
Nonetheless, Eddie notes Buck’s gaze locked upon a single point, not daring to look away so much as blink. Tracing his best friend’s line of sight to the source, Eddie feels pure unfiltered panic seize him, ice piercing his veins.
No.
Having to compel himself to take a breath, his heart continuously hammers away at his ribcage, the rate rising the longer he stares at the man.
Sergeant Harrelson.
Por Favor.
The man’s movement is frantic as he paces back and forth, no sign of his team anywhere nearby.
It doesn’t take much to put two and two together to get the general gist of what must’ve happened within that building. And apparently, as Eddie hesitantly peers over at his partner, Buck’s figured that out as well.
No.
As Eddie continues to watch, heartrate slowly elevating, he also witnesses the moment Hondo catches sight of the 118. His gaze homing in on Buck almost immediately. The sight of Buck being enough to calm the restless energy.
However, the man doesn’t move.
Just stands and continues to stare at Buck, and his partner staring right back without blinking. The sound of the scene fading to the background as the sound of his heartbeat drums through his ears. Feeling like it’s in his throat.
Dios, no.
By now the rest of the team have clocked onto what’s currently happening, especially considering its to do with Buck. But it doesn’t matter because without a sound, Buck spins on his heel, shrugging off his turnout jacket and throwing it into the cabin of the truck before striding over to where Hondo stood. His long legs easily eating up the distance.
However, as ever in tune with his partner, Eddie’s not far behind- and apparently, he’s not the only one.
“What do you need?”
“Backup, my team’s being held hostage. I need someone to watch my six.”
It’s weird watching from the other side of the window. Considering Eddie’s the one Buck usually has a near non-verbal conversation with, as they’re able to just understand what it is the other’s saying without having to need to hear it said.
The interaction barely lasts thirty seconds before both men are off, heading towards the Bearcat.
“Never leave a man behind,” it’s with near practiced ease Buck delivers those words, ones that resonate with Eddie. As, a while ago, it was him who was quoting the same words. “Especially when I owe you all for helping me get Christopher back.”
At the mention of his son, Eddie couldn’t help but cut in, the whole concept they’re both painting is causing his hands to curl up. An attempt to hide the slight tremble in his hands at the thought of Buck going anywhere without him, especially into a building with active gunfire.
“If this is for helping Buck to rescue Chris, then it should be me going, since he’s my son.”
“Nice try, Eddie. But the only reason Hondo agreed to help in the first place, is because we’ve worked together before.”
As Buck so easily batted Eddie’s attempt back at him, the others finally find their voice, notably Bobby and Athena. Athena having witnessed the exchange of looks between the two and wasn’t too far behind the 118 crew the moment she noticed movement in the team.
“Begs the question of, why Buck at all? Considering he’s a firefighter, not a police officer. Of which there are plenty at service currently.” Athena’s voice spoke of how she felt about the idea, but Harrelson soon answered that, a set look shadowing his features.
“I have no idea what the situation’s going to be inside that building, I work with a specialised team, all of which are currently being held hostage. I need someone I know I can trust to watch my back. I trust Buckley’s ability to handle any situation with the upmost care and skill I need to get not only us, but my team all out alive.”
As though taking that as the last word regarding the situation, Buck took the opportunity to finish removing his turnouts. The crew all shooting glances at each other, asking silently if this was truly happening, that they’re about to just let Buck walk right into gunfire. The desperation flooding the area between them all.
This isn’t happening.
Eddie doesn’t have to be a genius to know that nothing they could possibly say right now could change either Buck or Sergeant Harrelson’s mind, as much as they disagree with the very concept. Despite the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, Eddie notes the bulletproof vest the Sergeant places to the side for Buck, along with a holster. Grabbing the vest before Buck could even consider the action himself, Eddie secured the vest on his best friend, trying to bite back against the tremble he could feel plaguing his limbs.
This can’t be happening.
“Do not get shot,” the words were strict, he knew, but Eddie couldn’t hear them leave his mouth. Not when his heartbeat was in his throat. The notion of just letting his best friend, his partner, run straight into a building with active gunfire churned his stomach. Especially not after just getting him back from Dios knows what.
He’s this close to clinging onto the man and demanding- pleading -him not to go. To throwing him over his shoulder and locking them both in the rig, where Eddie can keep him safe.
Before he could speak a single word in response, Eddie observes as Athena passes Buck the gun holster, along with a look, so much going unspoken between them. Understandable, considering Athena was there however brief at the raid.
See thing is, Eddie’s done all the preparations before a mission- even if he was a medic, he was still trained -but he never thought he’d be watching Buck go through it. You can always tell how much experience a person has had with a gun all in how they hold the firearm, and the moment Buck gets handed the assault rifle, the story tells itself. Eddie knows Athena’s taking note of the same thing, even the rest of the 118 can tell, the comfort Buck has wielding the gun.
However, he also observed the hesitation just before Buck took it, the reluctance being near audible. Along with the look in his best friend’s eye- the very same one he recognised in Buck’s eyes when he finally reunited with him and their his son -it’s enough for the nausea to rise in his throat. That look is too dark to be on Buck’s face, never on Buck’s.
Eddie knows they’re in for one hell of a story after this, knows none of the team will be allowing Buck to just shrug it off and move on. So many questions idling below the surface just waiting for the right moment to breach the surface.
Nevertheless, just like with the rifle, Eddie witnesses the experience Buck’s had not only in missions as Buck and Hondo stride off towards the building, that flip switching on as they both fall into position. The prior teamwork shining through at the silent communication, Buck falling in behind Hondo as he leads them both into the building.
It takes everything in Eddie to let Buck fade from his line of sight, disappearing into the active building, and not immediately follow after him.
So much so, when his feet go to follow, Athena and Bobby are both holding him back.
He understands.
Dios, does he understand what Shannon must’ve gone through when he’d been deployed. It’s one thing to imagine but it’s completely different to experience first-hand, having to wait to find out what happened to your partner, someone you love and care for, and not knowing a damn thing.
It’s excruciating.
He knows Buck was military, it’s obvious at this point, but he doesn’t know as what. Any military trains you to know exactly what you need to know, trains you to survive and do what you need to, what they need you to. Outside of that though?
He knows nothing.
Buck knew he was Army from the very beginning, but before the fire academy, what does Eddie know about Buck?
How long was Buck with a military for?
Why did he leave?
Did something make him leave, like it did for Eddie?
How damn well was Buck trained?
So many questions, so little answers.
Pacing back and forth, Eddie barely takes note of the nerves emanating from the rest of his team or the tough exterior Athena was grasping tightly to. He can’t study any of it too much or he’s going to drive himself insane.
He has to trust Sergeant Harrelson to keep Buck safe, to watch his back.
He has to trust Buck can keep himself alive and get out of that building, safe and sound.
Doesn’t stop him from grasping at his medal, praying to a God he hasn’t spoken to in a long time, to bring his partner back to him. To bring the love of his life back home to him.
It’s tolerable.
…..until he hears the windows being blown out, and the unforgettable sound of gunfire piercing through his eardrums once more.
So much so, he can almost taste the dust and blood of his fallen comrades. The helicopter blades spinning overhead, kicking up a cloud and mouthfuls of dust and sand.
He’s not sure to which he prefers, the sound of gunfire and activity, or the silence.
Eddie has to remind himself that, despite not knowing Buck’s past as well as he’d previously thought, he does know the man now. He knows just what Buck’s capable of, the skills he has- what he can and has done- and that infuriating tendency to pull off ridiculous stunts. Pushing himself past the realm of safety.
Speaking of which.
Witnessing your partner, your co-parent, and your rock throwing themselves off the side of a goddamn building tends to be a bit anxiety-inducing.
Drowning out the gasps and screams, Eddie doesn’t even dare to so much as breathe until he watches one of the most important people in his life rotate in mid-air whilst simultaneously throwing a grappling hook over the edge of the building. Tension tightening to send Buck swinging right towards one of the windows, momentum sending him crashing through the glass without fail.
Eddie can only fall back onto Athena in hopes of not crashing to the ground, his knees near giving out on him, Athena having no issue in providing to him her strength as Bobby shouts orders for an airbag to be inflated. Other firefighters jumping in on the command issued, hurrying to get the airbag inflated and positioned as soon as damn well possible.
Under normal circumstances, Eddie would’ve noted the sudden reappearance of Sergeant Harrelson as he and the rest of his team exited the building. Injuries minor despite having a bit of a tussle with the gunmen, those in question being handed over to other officers in handcuffs. Would’ve taken note of the explanation of Buck going off on his own to rescue a young girl trapped in a room by herself due to fallen debris caused by the gunmen throwing grenades at S.W.A.T., a partial floor collapse cutting off any other rescue attempts.
The only important thing right now is the sight of Buck peeking back out of the floor to ceiling window he’d previously crashed through, checking on the status of the airbag before safely extracting himself and the young girl from the building.
The moment Buck safely lands in the airbag, the action practically textbook as onlookers watch on in shock and awe, firefighters swarm the airbag, checking them both over before passing the young girl over to waiting paramedics.
Watching from a distance, Eddie simply observes Buck nodding to paramedics that he’s okay, before turning his attention to the girl standing nervously nearby. Her little body trembling in shock, hands tugging the blanket draped around her shoulders that little bit closer, her parents standing nearby as they thank Buck profusely. Tears in their eyes, hands refusing to release their grip on their child.
Out of it all though, is the moment Buck crouches down before the girl, the warm look on his face focused on nothing but the girl. That it’s in no time at all for the girl to be giggling at something Buck said, her body relaxing by the second, and the glow of Buck’s genuine smile directed at her.
It’s that right there, that finally triggers Eddie to finally breathe a sign of relief, a breathe of fresh air as he knows for a fact.
He’s got his partner back.
Gone is the shadowed look on his face, foreign to the warmth and human personification of happiness and sunshine that is Evan Buckley. Standing there is the very man he’s known for years, his partner he trusts with every part of him, especially his heart.
In that moment, Eddie doesn’t care about anything other than getting his arms around Buck and soaking up the warmth which he knows emanates from the man, in both the physical and metaphorical sense.
On approach, Eddie overhears Buck and Sergeant Harrelson, the Sergeant thanking Buck for watching his back. However, what almost makes him freeze in his tracks is the next exchange.
“I told you, nobody left behind. Even if they are a jarhead.” Hondo throwing Buck a look at his mischievous smirk he throws in response.
“Damn frogman,” the Sergeant mutters whilst walking away towards his team lingering nearby, shooting Buck their own thankful looks before their boss is ushering them into their vehicles, threats of taking people to the hospital in their wake.
Momentum carrying him all the way to Buck, the man in question is barely able to open his arms in time to catch Eddie, letting out a brief noise as the impact sends them both back a few steps. He doesn’t have long to revel in the feeling of Buck’s strong arms around him before the rest of the crew are piling on top with hugs of their own.
It doesn’t take the team long to herd Buck back to the rig, and jet back off to the station, Athena soon on their tail.
If Buck is expecting what’s about to happen, he doesn’t let it show, going about hanging his turnouts up as he usually would.
The moment he’s finished however, he’s again herded upstairs where everyone convenes on his position on the couch, staring at him expectantly.
“What?” staring up at his team, plus Athena, Buck waits for them to make the first step- and first step they do.
“What? You want to explain to us what the bloody hell has happened in the past three days? First you managed to defend yourself against multiple armed men, even while drugged. Then, you disappeared from the hospital to find and save Chris, and now this? Seriously, Buck, what in the actual hell?” Chim near explodes, his speech speeding up with every word spoken, arms flailing about in the air.
“Take a breath, Chimney, he can’t answer everything at once” Athena’s unfailingly calm voice responding to their crew member.
As Chimney physically takes a couple steps back to perch back on the arm of the couch Hen’s sat on, Eddie just turns to look at his partner sat beside him.
“You disappeared on us, Buckaroo. Didn’t tell any of us where the hell you were going, just disappeared into thin air.” Hen, ever supporting her partner, shifts forward in her seat. The entire team watch Buck as he glanced down at his hands as they clench into fists, jaw tightening as he explains.
“I failed to protect Chris, again. Like hell was I going to sit on my arse while Chris was god-knows-where, terrified, not when it was my fault he was in the position in the first place. I had my contacts, I used them to pull a favour from Hondo, we brought Chris home.”
“You didn’t fail Chris; you’ve never failed Chris.” The words were out of Eddie’s mouth before he could think about it, not that he’d regret it in the slightest. Especially when Buck opened his mouth to argue with him.
“What happened was out of your control. You didn’t stop fighting, either time, despite being drugged. You still fought; you took down one of the men attacking you. Even when you should’ve been resting in hospital, you went out and found Chris, you brought him back home, safe and sound. Brought both of you home, even getting injured in the process.”
The sheer thought of Buck beating himself up for not being able to keep Chris from being kidnapped, despite being drugged, is atrocious to him. Especially when he’s factoring in what happened during the tsunami.
“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” Shaking his head, Buck drove a fingernail in the pad of his thumb, anchoring himself on the brief pain rather than the memories lurking below.
“You’re right, Buck. But unfortunately, it did. However, the way you handled all of this has thoroughly surprised all of us. So much so, we’re struggling to understand how, that’s all.” Again, Athena’s calm voice speaking aloud all of their main questions blankets the area.
“You’re military.” The words are out of Eddie’s mouth without permission, but he doesn’t even remotely regret them, not being able to hold it in anymore. Not even forming it as a question, more stating the information. “You’re a SEAL, aren’t you?”
Locking eye contact, Eddie can see the multiple unspoken questions flowing from Buck, the shadow he’d seen earlier lurking just beneath the surface. Circling the shore.
“Sergeant Harrelson called you a frogman, earlier.”
Buck must’ve found what he was looking for, because the tension eased somewhat, nodding his head in confirmation.
“Our Buckaroo’s a firefighter, he’s not a SEAL though,” Chimney’s confused voice filtered in.
“Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. It never leaves you, whatever it is that you do afterwards.” Eddie’s answering for Buck, gratitude in the man’s eyes as they continue to lock gazes. “Once you’ve been military long enough, it’s not a case of becoming ex-military.”
Before anyone could speak another word in question, the alarm rung throughout the station, the group on their feet, rushing to their turnouts.
The calls didn’t stop through the rest of their shift.
By the time they finally got back to the station, their shift was over, and they were all heading to their cars with the promise of a meet-up on the horizon. Everyone knew this conversation wasn’t over, not until they’d all gotten their questions answered, and that included their extended family.
Eddie, however, wasn’t willing to wait. So, as they were leaving, he hooked an arm around Buck’s shoulders and steered him towards his truck.
“I don’t like talking about it, as I don’t like remembering who I was. What I had to do, as there’s good with the bad. I just wanted a fresh start, so I left Pit behind and focused on becoming Firefighter Buckley. Focused on being Christopher’s Bucky.”
Focusing on nothing but the road ahead, Eddie gave Buck the space to talk, to fully explain the past three days with no judgement included.
“It’s easier to consider them as two individual people, because they’re not the same, if anything they’re polar opposites. I never wanted the two lives to cross over in any form, but they did, so I did what I had to do to get Chris back and flipped the switch again. But once I did, I struggled to flip it back again.”
“That’s the reason why you didn’t want to stay, at the hospital. Why you wanted to run.”
“I didn’t want to be near Chris with that mindset, so yeah, I wanted to be as far away as possible from him and you, and the team. I never wanted any of you to know about my past, to know about Pit. Two worlds staying separate rather than colliding and having to pick up the pieces, afterwards.”
“You wouldn’t hurt Chris.” It was a statement, and it tugged at Buck’s heart, the amount of faith and trust that both Eddie and Christopher had in him. No matter what.
“Not intentionally. When we rescued Chris, I couldn’t comfort him beside just letting him know I was physically there. I couldn’t be his Bucky when he needed him most because I needed Pit, the mission needed to be completed. Pit always completes the mission, he doesn’t get attached, he focuses on getting out alive.”
“You were in soldier mode up until today, even after rescuing Chris.” Eddie hopes Buck can’t hear the emotion in his voice, just thinking about it still worries him. That there’s still so much of him he doesn’t know.
“I struggled to flip the switch, but the girl today, she needed Buck more than Pit.”
Pulling up to the house, Eddie turned off the engine but just stared at the house. Buck not moving to get out of the car, either.
“There’s still so much I don’t know about you, Buck. It was unnerving, not being able to recognise you.”
“You know what’s important, me as a person. My research binges, my love for the water despite recent events, who I am right now. Not even Maddie knows me as well as you do, Eds.”
“I want to know every part of you, because good or bad, it’s made up who you are as a person. And that’s the person who I can’t live without.” It’s not nearly as nerve wracking as it once had been, not after going through what they had, and maybe it’s a good thing.
One of the only good things that’s happened.
But, right now, looking over at his partner- the man he nor his son could ever live without -there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
“If you ever dare something as reckless as what you did today, ever again, I swear to everything holy-”
“Love you, too.”
That smirk’s going to be his undoing.