Chapter 1: Attention, Passengers
Chapter Text
“And don't forget—”
“About the back to school night Friday. I know,” Buck interrupted, a fond smile spreading across his features. “In fact, I am the one who wrote it on your calendar.”
Eddie glanced over to the calendar Chris had picked out—sharks were apparently the deadly predator of the month—where the back to school festival was written in red ink, Buck's messy handwriting oh-so evident next to Eddie's meticulous script. Someone—whether it was Buck or Chris, Eddie couldn't say—had drawn little fireworks around the date. The box before that lacked the artistic flair of it's neighbor. No fireworks or smiles accompanied the words 'Eddie - Flight to Seattle'.
“Hey,” Buck rested a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder, the pressure familiar and comforting. “It's gonna be fine.”
“That's what I'm worried about,” Eddie joked as Chris walked into the room. “You two are gonna unionize against me while I'm gone, aren't ya?”
The two boys laughed, Chris rolling his eyes affectionately. When they stood side-by-side like this, Eddie was always stuck by how similar they looked. More often than not, strangers mistook Buck as the father, and Eddie couldn't even be mad about it if he wanted to. Between the dirty blond curls and the sparkling smiles, they were a matching pair. Eddie ruffled those curls on his little boy's head. His little boy who really wasn't so little anymore. In the time they'd been apart, he'd shot up like a bean-pole. Even more so in the time Eddie was in Texas with him.
“I make no promises,” Buck shrugged. “But seriously, man, I've got it covered.”
“I know, I know. I want updates, though, and Carla will be by to—”
“To make sure we eat our vegetables?"
“To help.” Now it was Eddie rolling his eyes. There was at least that family resemblance between he and Chris. Eddie hefted the dufflebag onto his shoulder, the strap digging in uncomfortably. He was starting to think he'd overpacked, but Buck had made a checklist and by god, he made sure it was followed.
“We're fine, Dad,” Chris insisted. “You're gonna be late!”
“He's right, you know,” Buck glanced at the clock. “You gotta get you to the airport!”
“My flight isn't for four more hours,” Eddie said.
“Which means you're basically late already,” Buck insisted.
“I hate Responsible Buck,” Eddie groaned as the firefighter began pushing him out of the kitchen and toward the front door.
“Liar.”
Eddie grabbed his keys off the hook next to the door, looping his finger through the ring.
“Thank you, Buck. Seriously, you're a life saver.”
“You won't be saying that when you return after union negotiations,” Buck said, deftly avoiding Eddie's praise. “I have a feeling the first issue on the docket is bedtime.”
Eddie couldn't help but chuckle as he nodded. Chris was in good hands, he knew that. And as much as Buck tried to pretend otherwise, he was good at this—good with kids, especially Chris, nevermind he was becoming a moody teenager right before his father's unwilling eyes. With Buck, he was the same happy kid he'd always been.
“Alright, man. I'll see you in a week.” He pulled Buck into a hug, one hand resting on the other man's hip so that when they pulled apart there was still a lingering moment of contact. It was unconscious on Eddie's part and he wasn't sure Buck even noticed. He'd said nothing about it in the seven years it had been happening. “Chris, come say goodbye!”
The boy appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later. Eddie met him halfway, enveloping his child in a tight hug. It was more to comfort himself than the boy, and they both knew it. Eddie was hesitant to let go, like if he did Chris would be gone again, off in Texas or god knows where. Anywhere but by Eddie's side was too far for his taste.
“You can let go now, Dad,” Chris managed despite the death grip Eddie had him in. “It's only a week.”
“Yeah. I know,” Eddie said, releasing Chris and stepping back. “I'll call you when I land, okay?”
“Sounds good,” Buck and Chris said at the same time, bringing a smile to Eddie's face. Yeah, he thought, they'll be fine.
Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of Chris' head. “I love you, kid.”
He slipped out the front door, waving goodbye to the two boys—men, really—standing on his doorstep as he hopped in the front seat of his truck. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. As he pulled away from the curb he could see Buck and Christopher waving to him in the rearview mirror.
God, it was going to be a long week.
~~~
After suffering through TSA and all the hassle that went along with boarding a plane, Eddie was finally in the air. Eddie wasn't a crazy tall guy, but he wasn't short, either, and he silently cursed the LAFD for not springing for a business class ticket, at least. Not that he could complain, really, not when the ticket hadn't cost him anything. The International Firefighters Conference was being held in Seattle this year and for some unknown reason, they wanted Eddie to speak. Actually, they just wanted someone from the 118 to speak, and somehow Eddie had ended up drawing the short straw. It was no surprise they wanted to hear from the 118; in the time he'd been a part of the team, he'd seen just about every kind of disaster a person could imagine. If Eddie didn't know any better, he'd think it was some kind of curse. But of course, he did know better—unlike the rest of his team—which was probably why he'd gotten stuck on TED Talk duty. It should have been Bobby, really, but then they'd have to go through the trouble of finding an interim captain again, and no one wanted the hassle. Maddie and Chim would had a brand new baby to deal with, Hen had simply said no way in hell, and, frankly, no one thought sending Buck was a great idea. Who knew what trouble he could get up to in Seattle without proper adult supervision. So instead, Eddie was stuck at 30,000 feet in the worlds most uncomfortable seat.
He could feel his legs starting to cramp up, so he decided to take advantage of the lack of seatbelt light and stretch. it wasn't a long flight by any means, only about 2 hours from LAX to SEA, and they were nearing the end of that journey. Eddie had to hold back a sigh of relief as he stood, stretching out in the aisle of the plane. While he was up, he figured he might as well head to the bathroom, so he walked toward the front of the plane. He passed a flight attendant, a woman who couldn't be older than college age, who gave him a pleasant smile as he passed through the curtain to first class. Once again, a pang of annoyance filled him as he examined the huge, comfortable looking chairs. If a person absolutely had to fly, that was the way to do it. He passed an empty chair and a part of him thought about snagging it, but he had a feeling it's occupant would be back sooner rather than later.
When he finally made it to the little bathroom, someone was already in it. Maybe the owner of the empty seat he'd passed. Sighing, Eddie turned to head back to his seat. They'd be landing before too long, anyway. He could wait. He'd only taken a few steps when the whole plane shook. Eddie stumbled, grabbing the arm of a nearby chair to keep his balance. It passed quickly, but more turbulence followed. He could hear the gasps and cries of passengers throughout the plane.
“You've got to be shitting me,” Eddie mumbled to himself through gritted teeth. He hated flying, and this was why. He knew turbulence was normal. To be expected even. That didn't mean it didn't make every muscle in his body tense up and prepare to fight. The seatbelt lights pinged overhead. Eddie clenched his jaw and headed for his seat. That poor flight attendant was being harangued now by some first class dick.
“Sir, please—” She was saying.
“What is going on?” He demanded. Eddie tried not to roll his eyes and failed. “What are you looking at?”
“Me?” Eddie asked. “Not a thing, man.”
“Yeah, well, keep moving,” the old guy practically spat.
“Sir,” the flight attendant sighed. “Please just return to your seat.”
“I demand to know what is happening!” And he was getting way too up in the poor girls face and Eddie couldn't stand it. He put his hand on the old man's chest and gave him a gentle shove backwards. “Get your hands off of me! That is assault!”
“Listen, guy, just sit down and leave the girl alone. She's trying to do her job,” Eddie said as calmly as he could manage.
“Mind your own business,” he hissed, then went right back to harassing the girl. “Listen, sweetcheeks, I know the owner of this airline. I've been on planes longer than you've been alive—”
“Then you should know what turbulence is, dumbass,” Eddie snarked.
“Why you—!” The old man was interrupted by another huge bout of turbulence. Eddie caught the girl before she was sent sprawling to the floor. The flight attendant gave Eddie an appreciative look before stepping toward the old man.
“Sir, I do not care who you are or who you know. You are on my plane, so you will shut up and sit the hell down!”
That seemed to do the trick. The old man's slack jaw slammed shut and he sat in his chair with an audible huff. Eddie, satisfied that the flight attendant could handle herself, continued back toward his seat, anxious to get his seatbelt on and get this flight over with. The plane felt like it was flying through jello, shaking with every movement. It made Eddie's teeth chatter in his skull. He glanced out the window. There was no rain, no lighting or thunder to speak of. The skies were getting dark, the sun setting beyond the horizon, but they were clear. It made Eddie even more nervous. His knuckles were turning white from how hard he gripped the arm rests. Suddenly, it felt like the plane had lurched, and Eddie felt his body move forward with the force of it. The lights went out, then surged back to life with the emergency generator, then flickered again and again. Screams.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a familiar female voice came over the intercom. “Please, remain calm.”
Oh, fuck.
“Oh my god!” A voice squeaked beside him. He turned his head toward the sound. So did every other head on the plane. A woman was pointing out her window as screams filled the cabin. The engine was on fire. Eddie could see it, clear as day, burning like a five-alarm structure fire. Only there was nothing he could do about it this time.
God, he hated flying.
This plane was going down. He was sure of it. They were too far from the airport, and below them was forests and mountains growing ever darker as the sun continued to set. They were a fireball in the sky with only one place to go. Down. All around him, chaos ensued. Passengers were screaming, the oxygen mask deployed. Eddie could tell they were losing altitude, and the flight attendants were instructing them on what to do. Eddie knew the gist, so he tuned it out. The truth was, he was fairly sure they were going to die. The plane engine was failing and they were about to start plummeting toward the earth at a speed he couldn't even imagine. Lighting Strike powered Buck probably could have calculated it.
Buck.
God, Eddie was glad he wasn't here. He was glad that if anyone had to be on this plane that it was him and not Buck, or Bobby, or Chim, or Hen. But especially not Buck. Buck, who in less than 24 hours was going to have to explain to Christopher what had happened. Who in less than an hour was going to be his son’s legal guardian and he wouldn't even know it. Buck, who was expecting a call soon.
He should call him. Shouldn't he? He should say goodbye, say his piece, right? Eddie fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Full bars of wifi. The plane's engine didn't work, but the at least the wifi did. A slightly hysterical laugh ripped its way out of Eddie's throat and he choked it off before it could turn into a sob.
He clicked the little green icon, the log of his previous calls popping up. He didn't have to scroll at all to find Buck's name, he was the last person he'd called after all. Actually, he was the last four calls. Eddie recalled the last two calls, the ones Buck had dialed while Eddie was at the airport, checking in to make sure Eddie had packed this or that. Then again to tell him to have fun and relate a funny joke Chris had just told. A tear slipped down Eddie's cheek thinking about it. Just one traitorous tear. He sniffed and selected Buck's name.
The phone rang. Once, then twice, then a third time. He listened to it ring over and over until he heard a voice.
“You've reached Buck,” the familiar gravelly voice said.
“And Chris!” A little voice in the background interrupted.
Buck's warm laugh spilled out of the phone's speaker, velvety and comforting. “And Chris. We're too busy having fun right now to pick up, so leave a message and we'll get back to you!”
It was an old voicemail message. Eddie remembered when the boys had made him call and let the line ring until the message played. It had been a rare day where Eddie had a shift and Buck didn't, so he'd insisted on taking Christopher to the planetarium. Eddie was pretty sure they'd actually spent most of the day cruising around the various candy stores around the planetarium, but it was fine, because Buck was the one who had to deal with sugar crash. Chris had been so proud of that recording that even nearly five years later, Buck still had it as his outgoing message.
“Christoher, Buck...” Eddie choked out. He took a moment, steeling himself. He needed to stay composed for this. “I'm really sorry to leave you this message. I was hoping to get to hear your voices one more time, but no luck. Chris, kid, I love you so damn much. There is nothing in this world I have ever loved as much as I love you.”
He felt more tears slipping down his cheeks. He ignored them.
“I am so insanely proud of you. I need you to know that I don't want to leave you, and I am so so sorry. But Buck is gonna be there for you, okay? He loves you and he is gonna take care of you and it's gonna be okay. I love you, Christopher, so much—”
The lump in his throat finally choked off his words. He took a shuddering breath, tears rolling down his face and splashing onto his jeans.
“Now, I need you to give the phone to Buck, okay, buddy?” Eddie asked no one. He waited a moment before continuing. “Buck... I— fuck, man. The plane is going down. I know I said I'd be back in a week, but, uh, that doesn't seem likely. There's something... something I need to tell you.”
The words were stuck in his throat. He'd never come close to saying them out loud, not even a little. That would have required Eddie admitting it to himself first. Admitting a whole lot of things to himself, actually, and he hadn't been able to do it. But if he was going to die...
“Evan Buckley... my life has not been the same since I met you. Every single second since your dumb ass tried to show off in the firehouse gym has been... it's been a gift. Every moment I've spent with you. You are my best friend and I never wanted to jeopardize that, and I could never admit to myself—”
And fuck this was hard. Come on, Diaz, Eddie chided himself. You're about to die, just fucking say it.
“You mean the world to me, you know. I am so, so sorry that I left you. I had to go, but... I'm sorry I left. I know, now, that you probably would have gone with me if I asked. Because thats who you are. That's how amazing you are. Because you are amazing, Buck, you are. And now... now I'm leaving you again. It's not my fault this time, I guess, but I don't feel any better about it. I never wanted to leave you, ever. Fuck, man, I know this is terrible timing on my part, and I can't belive I'm about to do this to you, but I just have to say it, just once. Buck...”
The plane shook. Eddie could see the ground rapidly approaching and he was running out of breath. He threw on the oxygen mask, knowing he probably should have put it on earlier. He was running out of time.
“I'm in love with you!” He blurted out. “I love you, Buck. I—”
CRACK!
The sound filled the cabin, a long, low apocalyptic sounding screech that made dread curl up in the pit of Eddie's stomach. The hull was cracking in two. The whole thing was gonna come apart before they even made it to the ground. The force of it sent his phone flying from his hand.
“No!” He lurched for it, but it was flying down the aisle. He wasn't done saying what he needed to say, dammit! He wasn't done! There was still more, if the stupid phone would even let him leave a message that long. But at least he'd said it. He'd said the most important thing. Really, he could die satisfied. He raised an amazing son and left him in more than capable hands. He'd saved lives, he'd said what he need to say most. He'd fucked it up a lot, yes, but in the end he'd made it back where he belonged, hadn't he? He'd done what he needed to do and he was happy. So then why were the tears streaming down his face like they were?
Eddie wished he could pass out. He didn't want to see this thing to it's bitter end. There were two boys at home about to hear his message, but Eddie didn't want to think of that. Instead, as the plane crashed, Eddie's last thoughts were of the two of them, last weekend, asleep on the couch, tangled in blankets and each other's limbs. His boys.
His boys.
Then the plane crashed.
Chapter 2: Next of Kin
Chapter Text
The sun was down when Buck opened his eyes, moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the blinds. The TV was still on, some random movie playing that Buck was pretty sure he'd seen before, though he couldn't exactly place it. He'd fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the movie he and Chris had actually been watching, still exhausted from his shift the previous day. He sat up, hearing the domino effect of his vertebrae popping as he stretched his arms over his head. Eddie's couch wasn't exactly designed for a restful night's sleep. Buck rubbed the sleep from his eyes, adjusting to the dark living room.
The spot on the couch beside him was empty. Buck walked quietly to the hallway, where Chris' door was open just a crack. Inside, the fourteen year old was sleeping peacefully in his bed. It made something ache in his chest, the sight of Chris back in this house. It had been almost four months since he and Eddie had returned to LA, having flown in after the way-too-close call with the biolab, but it still didn't feel real to Buck. Maybe that was because he was couch surfing, landing on Eddie's more often than not. Finding a new apartment was proving a tad more difficult than Buck had anticipated. Luckily, everyone at the 118 was more than happy to accommodate him, for now, at least. Buck was going to be staying in one spot for the next week, making sure Christopher was ready for school to start and watching over him.
To tell the truth, Buck wasn't entirely sure who was watching who. Eddie had been...hovering ever since he came back, keeping an extra close eye on Buck. Everyone seemed extra concerned about him lately, which was crazy considering he was the only one who didn't have a near death experience in the lab. He'd just been the one sitting in the hospital waiting room—well, he and Athena. Or maybe it was the couch surfing that had them worried. Bobby and Athena had offered their spare room to him, but he'd declined. May and Harry were around more and more, and he hated to take their spot in the house. Maddie and Chim, Karen and Hen—they'd all made him offers of temporary residences but they both had two kids. Their houses were full. Instead, Buck was rotating between his friends homes. Ravi let him stay sometimes, but Buck was pretty sure the kid was gonna start charging him rent, which was why Buck ended up at Eddie's most of the time. Buck liked it here. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and he liked being able to wake up and know Eddie and Chris were here in LA and not back in El Paso.
Buck pulled the bedroom door close, careful not to make any noise that might wake Christopher, and returned to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, sinking into the cushions. The clock on the wall read 10:56 pm. Buck frowned. Eddie should have landed by now.
“That's weird...” he said into the quiet room. Buck reached into his pocket, but his phone was conveniently missing. With a groan, he began searching for the missing device. The gentle buzz of a notification vibrated through the couch. Buck dove into the cushions until finally he fished his phone out, covered in popcorn crumbs and lint.
“Gross.” He shook the phone off, sending dust particles flying through the air, barely visible in the low lights. He clicked the power button and the screen lit up the dark room. He blinked against the harsh bluelight. His latest notification was junk, a random retail text Buck had foolishly signed up for and had never gotten around to unsubscribing. It was followed by a missed call from Eddie and a voicemail notification. The phone clicked as Buck's face ID registered and it unlocked. He clicked the missed call and put the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. Only it didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail instead.
Buck shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Always bring a portable charger, he thought. But Eddie was hopeless with technology and he knew it. Buck hung up before the outgoing message ended. Instead, he scrolled over to his own voicemail box to listen to the one Eddie had left, likely telling him he'd landed in Seattle without a phone charger.
Knock, knock, knock.
Buck glanced up at the door, surprised. He had no idea who would be here at this hour. The knocks came again, louder this time. He shoved his phone into his pocket and jumped up.
“Hey, I'm coming!” He hissed. “Knock it off, I got a sleeping kid in here. What do you—?”
His words trailed off as he pulled the door open to find Bobby and Athena standing at his door.
“Uh... hey.” Buck's brow furrowed. What the hell were they doing here at 11 at night? He stepped aside pulling the door open wider for them. “Come on in.”
The older couple glanced at each other, then stepped inside. Buck closed the door quietly behind them.
“What, uh... what's up? Is everything okay?” He asked.
”Buck, baby, you might want to sit down,” Athena told him.
“What's wrong?”
Athena gave him a sympathetic look that he knew meant trouble. She took a step toward him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she gently guided him toward the couch. He resisted, staying firmly where he stood.
“Bobby, what's going on?” Buck demanded.
Bobby took a deep breath. “We… got some news a moment ago. I figured you should hear it from us.”
“What. News.” Buck's mind was racing with possibilities. Was his sister dead? What about the kids? Why had his captain shown up on his—Eddie's—doorstep in the middle of the night? And more importantly, why won't he just spit it out?
Bobby glanced at Athena. She sighed and gripped Buck's shoulder even tighter.
“Buck, listen. There… was an accident.”
“What kind—!” He pursed his lips, reminding himself to keep his voice down. It was nearly impossible with Athena staring at him like that, big brown eyes full of worry. “What kind of accident?”
“Eddie's plane went down,” Bobby's voice filled the night-quiet room, which began to spin. Buck felt his legs give out, but not before Athena could guide him back onto the couch. Eddie's couch. Bobby was saying something else, something more, but Buck couldn't hear it over the blood rushing in his ears as his brain began to recall the images of plane crashes. He'd seen his fair share, after all. But none of those had had Eddie on them.
“—somewhere in the mountains outside of Seattle. The plane was way off course, actually. Some malfunction with the GPS,” Bobby was saying as the world started to come back into focus.
“Do they—I mean, how long till they find the plane? They can track these things, right?” Buck sputtered.
“They'll start the search at first light,” Bobby said.
“Why not now? Shouldn't air traffic control be able to pinpoint a location? What if Eddie's—what if people are hurt?”
“Buck,” Athena interjected, voice soft. “The GPS malfunctioned. They only have a vague idea where to look and the crash… it was bad.”
“Then they need to start looking!” Buck's voice trembled as he tried to stop himself from shouting.
“They will, baby. Soon,” Athena said. Buck looked at her and could see the concern in her eyes. Not concern for the plane or for Eddie, but for Buck.
“You don't think he survived,” Buck breathed.
“She didn't say that,” Bobby was quick to interceed.
“You don't either. Neither of you do.” Buck felt the anger and the fear rising from his stomach to his chest to his throat, threatening to burst out in a sob. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He could barely breath.
Bobby took a few long strides, quickly closing the gap between them, hands gripping Buck's arms like a vice. “Listen to me, Buck. No one is saying that. No one is giving up on him. Okay?”
Buck shook his head.
“We are gonna find him, Buck.”
The tears came for real then, silently spilling down his cheeks. He was powerless to stop them, those rivers of tears. Two pairs of arms enveloped him, and he nearly choked on the sob that escaped from his throat.
“We just got him back,” Buck managed, voice so small and hopeless that he barely recognized it as his own.
“It's okay, baby,” Athena whispered, her hand stroking gently through Buck's hair. For a long moment, the three of them stood there in the middle of Eddie's living room, wrapped in each others arms while Buck cried. he didn't want to break the silence, really, he didn't. But he had a question burning in his back pocket.
Buck pulled back ever so slightly, and Bobby and Athena took the cue to release him. He asked, “When?”
“The pilot reported engine failure at approximately 10:04 PM,” Athena supplied.
Buck nodded. Less than an hour ago. And Buck had been sleeping on the couch. Sleeping while his best friend crashed into a fucking mountain.
“Thanks. For telling me,” Buck said. “I don't know what I'm supposed to tell Chris.”
Bobby gave him a sympathetic look. “Just tell him the truth.”
“You need some backup?” Athena asked, but Buck shook his head.
“No. He should hear it from me,” he said. It was an echo of what Bobby had said when he'd entered. “Does anyone else know?”
“Not yet,” Athena said. “We'll call and let them know. You've got enough to deal with here.”
“We'll call you when we hear more, alright?” Bobby gave Buck's arm one last squeeze. He nodded. “It's gonna be alright, kid.”
Buck wasn't so sure, but he gave his captain a small smile anyway. With one last bear hug from Athena, the two of them let themselves out, leaving Buck alone in a house that was all of the sudden too quite and too empty.
He sank back onto the couch, tears once again welling up in his eyes. There was something Buck needed to know. He pulled out his phone. It opened to the last page he'd been on: his voicemail box. He took a deep breath before looking, unsure he could handle the answer, but needing it all the same. Right there, next to the date and Eddie's name, was a timestamp.
10:07 PM. Three minutes after the engine failed. Buck stared at the voicemail and the stupid damn timestamp. It was taunting him. Mocking him. Eddie had known the planes was going to crash when he made that call. A call that Buck hadn't answered because he'd been fucking asleep. It was a goodbye, Buck knew. That voicemail was a goodbye to him, to Chris. His thumb hovered over it, wanting so badly to hear Eddie's voice, but he couldn't bring himself to click it.
They could be his last words.
The thought shot through Buck like a bolt of lightning. That voicemail on his phone could be the last thing left of Eddie and Buck couldn't listen to it. He knew he was being silly, knew that if Eddie was there he'd be making fun of him, but Buck knew—he just knew—that listening to it would make it real. Eddie couldn't have last words. He wasn't allowed to have last words because that meant he was dead. And he couldn't be dead. He couldn't.
~~~
Buck didn't sleep a wink. He sat, unmoving, on Eddie's couch, phone in his hand, until Christopher woke up the next morning and walked, sleepy-eyed, to the living room.
“Buck?” Chris said. It shocked the firefighter out of his catatonic state. Buck sniffed, turning toward him.
“Hey, bud,” Buck greeted him. He patted the couch next to him. “I need to tell you something.”
And the all-too-knowing look in Chris' eyes as his face fell made Buck's heart finally break in two.
Chapter Text
The first thing that registered was the pain. His whole body ached like it was one big bruise. As he came to, he was able to pinpoint locations of his more serious injuries. There was a throbbing pain in his leg that he knew was likely a fracture. He could wiggle his fingers and his toes, so his spine was fine. His head was pounding, which he chalked up to whiplash. All of his muscles were sore, and he could feel where blood was crusting from shallow cuts all along his arms and chin. He peeled his eyes open, taking in his surroundings and the smoldering wreckage around him. His heart began pounding in his chest.
A plane crash, Eddie reminded himself. He had been in—survived, apparently—a plane crash. He wasn't in a war zone, and he didn't think he was too injured. He was just... lost. Eddie could work with lost.
“Hello?” A female voice called. “Is anyone there?”
Eddie shot to his feet—or tried to. The seat belt he had fastened before the crash yanked him back down before he could get to his feet.
“Son of a—" Eddie grumbled to himself as he undid the seatbelt with surprising ease and pulled himself to his feet. He took in a sharp breath. Stabbing, searing pain shot through his leg as he placed his weight on it.
“Hello?” The voice called. He could hear the panic lacing her words. Eddie shifted as much weight as he could to his left leg and hobbled toward the front end of the plane.
“Hold tight!” Eddie yelled, voice raw. “I'm coming to you!”
“Please, hurry!”
As he walked down the aisle, it became abundantly clear to Eddie just how bad the crash had been. And how lucky he was to be alive. He tried to check on some of the other passengers as he hobbled toward the voice with no luck. Every single person he checked was a black tag.
Eddie passed into first class. “Where are you?” he called out.
“Over here!” He followed the voice toward the galley, or what was left of it. “I'm here!”
A girl—the flight attendant he'd spoken to before the crash—was pinned up against the wall by her mangled serving cart. Eddie could see blood, though not much, which he took as a good sign. It had her hyperventilating that had Eddie concerned.
“Hey! Hey, hey,” Eddie repeated until she was paying attention to him. “Hey, I'm Eddie. I'm gonna help you, okay?”
She sniffled and nodded wildly.
“What's your name?”
“S-sarah. M-my name is Sarah,” she whimpered. Her face was bruised and covered in soot, with a small cut above her eyebrow. Her tears left streaks down her cheeks. She hiccupped. “P-please, it hurts.”
“Don't worry, Sarah. I'm a firefighter, I can help you,” Eddie said. He hoped it was true. As he worked to free her, he kept talking. “How long you been a flight attendant, Sarah?”
“A few... a few months.”
“That long, huh?”
She gave an amused huff, wincing as she did. “I wanted t-to see the world before I went to college. I guess it didn't turn out s-so glamourous.”
“Girl I know became a 9-1-1 dispatcher during her gap year,” Eddie told her.
“Sounds a bit safer than this.”
“Well, the dispatch did burn down while she was working, so...”
“What?!” Sarah squeaked.
“Don't worry, she's okay,” Eddie reassured her. “I think maybe it's gap years that are dangerous.”
He cleared away most of the debris, but the cart was stuck fast. The corner had lodged itself into the wall behind Sarah and he couldn't pry it out, at least not without some leverage.
“Sarah,” Eddie said. “I need to find something to help me get this off of you.”
“You're leaving?”
“I'm gonna be right back. I promise.”
She took a shaky breath but nodded. Eddie took it as permission enough. He wondered out of the galley and back into first class. To his surprise, he heard groaning. He'd have to come back and check on them, though, he had to get Sarah out first. He just needed something sturdy, anything, really, to wedge under the cart and pry it free. He scanned through the aisles of seats, but came up empty.
Come on, Eddie thought. There's gotta be something!
Something shiny caught his eye and he rushed for it as fast as his broken leg would let him. Behind one of the chairs, a carry on had fallen down. It was a hard shell rolling suitcase, not very big but with a long, extendable handle. He pushed the button to fully extend the handle, and kept on pulling until it popped out of the case, rushing back to Sarah with his makeshift crowbar in hand.
“I'm back, Sarah. I'm gonna get this off of you,” he said. He shoved the detached handle behind the cart and pulled. The creaky metallic groan filled the air and mixed with Sarah's own. Slowly, the cart began to move, but the handle wasn't going to last much longer. “Can you slip out?”
“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head.
“Okay, I need you to try and push this thing off of you, can you do that?”
She nodded and braced her arms against the edge of the cart. He could see the mangled edges cutting into her hands, but she kept on pushing until the gap was big enough she could wiggle her way out.
She lurched forward, the momentum enough to throw her to the ground. Eddie released the broken handle and slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Sarah pushed herself to her feet and threw herself at Eddie, wrapping him in a pretty painful hug.
Bruised ribs, Eddie mentally took stock. Broken leg. Possible concussion.
Indeed, his head was still throbbing. He hoped it was from dehydration, but a concussion seemed likely.
“Thank you!” Sarah sobbed. Eddie grimaced, but gave her what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the back. She pulled back, surveying him. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” Eddie said. “What about you?”
“Um...” she thought. “I'm shaken. But I don't think I'm seriously hurt.”
“Good.” Eddie took a deep breath. It made his ribs ache. “We need to see if anyone else is alive. I heard someone back in first class I gotta check on. Do you think you can look for survivors?”
“Mhmm,” she nodded. “Just point me in a direction.”
“Start with the cockpit. If the pilot is alive, they might know how to send for help.”
”Right. The pilot,” she repeated. She might be concussed, too. She shook her head, clearing away the fog, and turned for the cockpit. Eddie hobbled back to first class.
“Is anybody alive in here?” he shouted, hoping whoever he'd heard might respond. By some miracle, it worked. The groaning was louder this time, the tell-tale sign of someone regaining consciousness. They were gonna be in for a real rude awakening. Eddie followed the sound.
~~~
No shifts for the next week. That had been the order from the brass, which Buck knew was at the behest of Bobby. In fact, the whole A shift had been pulled from duty for the rest of the week.
Not that they were completely off the hook, and Buck had a feeling that was Maddie's doing. Hen was the first to arrive, and she at least came bearing the gift of fresh muffins made by Karen and the kids. Buck graciously accepted, since he was in no mood to cook breakfast after the morning he and Chris'd had. For the second time since he had known the kid, he had to tell him his dad might not be coming home. It went about as poorly the second time as the first.
Chris took it well. Of course he did. The kid had more emotional maturity than most adults Buck knew combined. It was Buck who had been practically inconsolable. Again. The whole thing put him in an abysmally bad mood.
Now, however many hours later, Chris was taking a well deserved nap on the couch, emotionally exhausted. Buck knew the feeling, but he was still to anxious to sleep. It eased his mind—and heart rate—a little to see Chris sleeping.
Buck was watching him when Hen sat a mug in front of him.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Herbal tea,” she corrected.
Buck wrapped his hands around the warm mug, relishing in the heat. The flowery smell of the tea wafted up to this nose, carried on the steam. Hen took a sip from her own mug, eyeing Buck over the rim.
“I'm fine, Hen.”
“Okay,” she said, obviously not believing him.
“Seriously. I don't need to be babysat.”
“I'm not babysitting you, Buck.”
“Then what exactly are you doing?”
“I'm... seeking comfort,” she said. “Our friend is missing and I'm seeking comfort.”
Buck sighed. He knew it wasn't the entire truth, but Hen was a good liar, and he wanted to believe it. He took a sip of the tea. It was hot and it burned his mouth, but he didn't mind.
“They sent out the first search party this morning,” Hen told him.
“We should be there. We should be looking for him.”
“Buck.” Hen reached across the table and placed her hand on his. “We are exactly where we need to be.”
Part of him knew she was right. They needed to be here for the kids and for each other, and for Eddie when he came back. It didn't stop Buck from feeling like a traitor, sitting here while Eddie was out there in need of rescuing.
“Has anyone told his parents?” Hen asked. Buck nodded.
“Eddie's aunt called them this morning,” he told her. “Told them we'd keep them updated.”
“Then I guess everyone knows.”
There was a long silence after that, interrupted only why the ticking of the clock and the occasional snore from Christopher. What do you say when a piece of you is missing? Buck didn't know, so he said nothing. Neither did Hen. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but his tea was cold when Hen finally stood.
“I should get home,” she said apologetically. Buck was quick to rise after her, enveloping her in a hug that both of them desperately needed.
“Thanks for checking on me, Hen. And thank you for the muffins.”
“Promise you'll actually try to eat one?”
Buck gave her a small smile. “Promise.”
“Imma hold you to that,” she teased. “Call if you need anything, okay, Buck?”
“I will,” he lied.
He saw her out, waving from the front porch until her car pulled out of sight. The forced smile faded and Buck went back inside. He carefully closed the door and pressed his back into it. He slid to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, burying his face.
Buck held back a sob, unwilling to let Christopher wake up to this. It built like a rock in his throat, painful and hot. Silent tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks.
Buck had been nearly drowned, struck by lightning, crushed by a laddertruck, and more but this was the worst he had ever felt. It wasn't even the first time he had thought Eddie was going to die—far from it, in fact—but it was somehow different. Different because he was hundreds of miles away and Buck could do nothing. He couldn't pull him to safety or put pressure on a bullet wound or even try to dig him from the earth with his bare hands. All he could do was sit and wait. He had no work to distract him, no emergency to put his energy into. And that frantic energy was threatening to eat him alive. And on top of it all there was that voicemail, the lifeline Buck was too scared to use.
The shrill ring of the doorbell filled the silence. Buck frowned, forcing himself to his feet. Hen had been gone less than 5 minutes and already her replacement had arrived. Buck appreciated what his sister was doing—really, he did—but it got old fast.
“Hey, there, Buckley,” a familiar, playful voice greeted him when he pulled open the door.
“Lucy?”
~~~
Following the sound of groans, Eddie found his way to the back of first class, to a mangled seat and its familiar looking occupant. The dickhead from before seemed to recognize Eddie at the same time he recognized him.
“You’ve got to be joking…” he whined. The guy looked terrible. Blood covered half his face and a sharp shard of metal—probably from the cracked hull—had lodged itself in his abdomen. He followed Eddie’s gaze down to the deadly foreign object. Panic spread over his features. “Oh fuck!”
He grabbed at the shard, thrashing wildly to try and free himself from the mangled seat.
“Woah! Don’t move you’re gonna—!” Eddie began. He watched in horror as the man ripped the hunk of metal out of his stomach without warning. Blood spurt everywhere, practically spraying from the wound. “Dammit!”
Eddie threw himself forward, pressing his hands on the wound as the victim rapidly began to lose consciousness.
“Sarah!” He shouted. “Sarah, I need you!”
The flight attendant appeared in the doorway, face flushed and terrified.
“First-aid kit!”
She nodded, disappearing into the galley and returning a moment later with a large black bag in hand. She slid in next to Eddie, whose hands were now covered in blood.
“Guaze,” Eddie ordered. She started searching through the bag. The man coughed and a spray of blood came with it. Not good.
“Her?” He complained, voice wet with blood. “This is a cosmic joke. I’m going to die.”
“You’re not going to die,” Eddie said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, yeah?” The man laughed. “And what do you know?”
“I’m an EMT.”
“Oh.” That actually seemed to shut the man up momentarily. Sarah triumphantly pulled the gauze from the bag and handed it to Eddie. He ripped the pack open with his teeth and pressed it hard to the man’s wound. He winced and cursed Eddie, but he ignored it and kept working. Sarah proved a pretty good field assistant, quickly finding Eddie whatever he needed and improvising when she couldn’t.
“Did you ever get into the cockpit?” Eddie asked Sarah.
“The door is stuck,” she said. “I couldn’t get in.”
He nodded, thinking. They needed to get in there if they stood a chance of being rescued. Eddie had an idea, but he was pretty sure it was a bad one. He limped to the window seat, wiping away the soot and debris so he could see out. They were surrounded by trees, a sea of green and brown as far as the eye could see. One such tree had torn through the side of the plane, leaving a gap large enough for Eddie to climb through. He heaved himself up on the branches of the fallen tree, wincing at the pain in his leg.
“Where are you going?” Sarah asked.
“I’m gonna try and get in the cockpit,” Eddie said. “Hang tight.”
He slipped out the makeshift exit. Sap from the tree mingled with the blood on his hands, making what was already sticky even stickier. When he slipped off of the tree, the mossy ground was pliant and moist beneath his feet. From outside, he had a better view of their situation. There was a massive crack in the frame of the plane, big enough to see through—maybe even fit through—and smoke was swirling up into the air off of the plane. The fire seemed to have burned itself out, and Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing. The plane wasn’t likely to explode, that was a plus. But a massive fire would have been a fairly decent signal for overhead rescuers. His biggest concern was that the plane was in a pretty precarious position on the steep hill. Only the thick line of trees was keeping it from backsliding down the mountain.
Eddie edged along outside of the plane toward the nose. The front of the plane had apparently fared better than the back half, free from some of the fire damage, at least. It hadn’t exactly been a nose dive, the crash-landing, and Eddie figured that was a good thing. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses at the front, however. The glass at the front was shattered on the right side, fallen timber shoved through it like a pencil in an eye. Eddie hoisted himself up onto the nose, holding onto the tree for balance. He inched forward, careful not to lose his footing. It was nearly impossible with only one good leg, but he managed not to fall and break his neck.
The windshield took a few more solid kicks until the hole was big enough for Eddie to fit through without being shredded to ribbons, but once it was he slipped inside, landing with a thud. The cabin creaked in response, the floor shifting ever so slightly. Eddie braced himself, but the plane stayed where it was.
The poor co-pilot was a goner. The tree had impaled him with deadly accuracy. With that amount of blood and gore on display…well, Eddie didn’t bother to check for a pulse. The pilot, bruised, bloody, probably sore as hell, looked better off. Eddie felt for a pulse, fingers finding the spot on her neck by instinct. It was faint, but it was there. As if in reaction to Eddie’s presence, her chest heaved, taking in a sharp breath as her eyes shot open.
“Hey,” Eddie greeted the pilot. “How you feelin’?”
“Terrible,” she groaned. Eddie helped her sit up, knowing from the bump on her forehead that the cabin was probably spinning for her. “Who are you?”
“Eddie Diaz, ma’am. I’m—I was a passenger.”
“That’s bad luck.”
“Yeah,” he managed a small laugh. “If you knew me at all, you’d know that’s kind a the norm for me.”
She gave him a pained smile, her hand going to her side. She could have a broken rib, maybe worse. “North, are you—?”
Eddie watched her gaze cut across the cabin to the spot where her co-pilot should have been. Her face fell when she saw it. Eddie felt a pang of sorrow for her.
“What about the rest of the passengers?” She asked. Eddie thought maybe he should offer his condolences for her partner, but thought better of it. There would be time for sorrow and grief later.
“So far, I’ve got two people alive back there. Sarah, the flight attendant, and a passenger, but he’s in rough condition,” Eddie reported. He was glad to have someone to report to. A captain for this sinking ship.
“Only two?”
“Well, the back half of the plane kinda…exploded before we went down.”
“Engine failure. I reported it right before we started going down.”
“You reported it,” Eddie repeated. “Does that mean someone knows where we are?”
The pilot shook her head. “Not exactly.”
~~~
“What are you doing here?” Buck asked as he stepped out onto the front porch. Lucy gave him a once over, crossing her arms.
“Not gonna invite me in, Buckley?”
“Chris is sleeping,” he explained, feeling a bit guilty for pushing Lucy out onto the porch like this. She just nodded her understanding.
“Diaz’s kid?”
“Mhmm.” Buck hummed. It was easy to forget that she didn’t know Chris. In Buck’s mind everyone knew Chris—and their lives were better for it. “Why are you here? Sorry, not that it isn’t nice to see you—it is!—but, well, why?”
Lucy laughed as Buck stumbled over his words, a hearty full laugh that honestly scared Buck a little bit. Everything about Lucy always kinda scared Buck, actually. She intimidated him, and he almost always made a fool of himself in front of her. Her laughter was contagious, though, and Buck found himself nervously chuckling along. She gave him a soft look as her laughter died off, a fondness spreading across her features.
“I heard about Diaz,” she finally told him. And just like that, the brief moment of levity was gone, along with the air from Buck’s lungs.
“Oh,” Buck managed. Lucy pursed her lips as she eyed him. She’d always been weirdly good at reading him, and he wondered what she was now as she looked him over.
“I know a guy,” she started. “Flys an air-ambulance for Seattle FD. He’s assisting with the rescue operation and I said I’d lend my services.”
Surprise must have shown on his face, because Lucy started laughing again.
“You—” Buck couldn’t quite get a grasp on his thoughts enough to form the sentences he needed to say. Instead, he said, “why?”
“Because,” she said, drawing out the second syllable of the word in a semi-mocking tone. “I know you’re probably going nuts sitting here waiting for news. Plus, I didn’t know him that well, but Diaz seemed like a good guy. After all, he’s one of the cool kids.”
Buck resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the nickname for the 118 A-Shift, if only because he was suddenly feeling wildly indebted to Lucy.
“Thank you,” Buck breathed. “Seriously, Lucy, you have no idea how much it means to me that your gonna be there looking for him.”
“Ah, don’t mention it.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I still kinda feel like I owe ya one for leaving you all behind when that bridge collapsed."
“Occupational hazard,” Buck shrugged. It made Lucy chuckle again. It was so unbelievably nice to be around someone who wasn’t all doom and gloom right now. Buck appreciated Hen’s company this morning, he did, but she was sad and scared, just like he was. Chris was only 14 but so deadly serious it made Buck’s chest ache. Lucy’s surprise visit was a bright spot in his day for so many reasons, not the least of which was because of what she’d just told him.
“Listen, I’ve got to get going, but I’ll be in touch,” Lucy clapped him on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Lucy,” Buck said, and he really meant it. “Take care of yourself.”
She gave him a crooked smile. “You know me.”
“Yeah, I do. That’s what worries me,” he half-joked. She punched him playfully on the shoulder before turning to leave.
Buck sat down on the front step. The morning sun hadn’t quite managed to warm up the concrete yet, and it was cool beneath him in a way that he relished. Alone again, he pressed his eyes closed and imagined Eddie sitting next to him. They’d passed many an afternoon like this, the two of them sitting quietly on the porch, normally with beers in hand. Buck could almost feel Eddie next to him, the gentle pressure of their knees knocking together, the steady rhythm of his breathing. He could almost feel it like Eddie was right next to him and not lost somewhere, separated from him by a thousand miles and some change.
Scratch that. He could definitely feel it.
Buck’s eyes fluttered open to find Christopher sitting beside him. The boy was watching him with soft, sad eyes that made Buck feel like a complete and utter mess. His hair was mussed from his couch-nap, bags under his eyes too deep and dark for a kid his age. Buck gave him a small smile and slipped his arm around him, pulling the boy close.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Buck…” Chris said. “This sucks.”
And Buck—he knew he shouldn’t, really, he knew—Buck laughed because it was such a teenager thing to say. This sucks. Not I’m scared or what do we do?, but a matter of fact complaint against the fairness of the universe. It was so Christopher, and it was so Eddie, too. Why get bogged down in feelings when you can skip straight to the facts?
“Yeah, man,” Buck said. “It sure does.”
“I feel like we should be doing something. I hate sitting here.”
“I know,” Buck agreed. He really, really did. “But I don’t know what we can do.”
Christopher nodded, looking out at the street. It was quiet at this time of day, not much through traffic in the little suburb. It was normally a bonus, but right now Buck and Chris both thought the quiet was suffocating. Maybe his sister knew better than Buck after all. He stood up.
“What do you say we get out of the house for a while?” Buck asked, extending a helping hand to Chris. He gladly accepted it, pulling himself to his feet.
“Yes, please.”
Notes:
9-1-1 bring Lucy back challenge! I love her and I think she and Eddie would be besties but the writers are cowards.
Chapter 4: Cracked
Notes:
I must preface, I DO NOT ship Buck/Tommy, I do not want them to be together, and this is not a Buck/Tommy fic. However, this fic did need a villain, so...
Anyway, don't worry, the tags didn't lie. This is still a story about Buddie. It'll just have some twists and turns.
Chapter Text
The welcome was not warm. Not for Buck anyway.
“And just what do you think you are doing here?” Bobby folded his arms across his chest, staring down at Buck and Chris from the loft.
Buck gave what he hoped was a winning, charming smile and shrugged. Bobby was not amused.
“You are not allowed to work,” Bobby reminded him.
“I know, I know That’s not why we’re here.” Bobby skeptically raised his brows. “Scouts honor!”
With a sigh, Bobby waved them up. Buck and Chris climbed the loft stairs. Bobby was waiting for them in the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Hungry?” Bobby asked.
“Starving,” Chris replied. Bobby smiled and pulled open the oven to reveal a perfectly cooked lasagna.
~~~
“Your sister is not going to be happy when she and Chim show up and you aren’t there,” Bobby said, sliding a streaming plate in front of Buck. He barely registered the plate, though normally he would be devouring it before it had a chance to cool down. Chris was sitting with a plate of his own at the table. By some cruel trick of the universe, he had sat in the chair Eddie normally used.
“Yeah, well, I’m not too happy with her, either.” Buck pushed the food around with a fork.
“She’s just trying to help.”
“I know,” Buck sighed. “Just like the last time.”
Bobby pinned him with that all-knowing look of his, but didn’t argue further.
“Well, you saved me a trip. The food’s better fresh, anyway.”
“You made this for us?” Buck asked.
“I had a feeling you weren’t gonna be doing much cooking of your own.”
Buck couldn’t argue there. He set the fork down and leaned back on his stool. He was starving, but he couldn’t eat. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. Eddie had been missing for less than a day and Buck felt like he was falling apart at the seams.
“I just…” he started. “I hate feeling useless. I’m sick of it. And Maddie sending over a parade of people to make sure I don’t crack isn’t exactly helping.”
“She doesn’t think you’re going to crack.” Buck gave him a skeptical look. “Maybe just chip a little.”
“But I’m not!” Buck insisted. “I’m not gonna crack or chip or whatever. You want to know what I’m feeling, Bobby? I’m pissed!”
Bobby nodded sagely, which only further infuriated Buck. “It’s normal to feel angry when something like this happens.”
Something like this.
“It’s not! Or it shouldn’t be. I don’t want to be mad at Eddie—he didn’t do anything wrong. He just…left.”
“Feelings of abandonment can be intense, Buck. We become angry at the people we love when we think they’ve put themselves in danger.”
“All he did was get on a plane. It’s not like he asked for it to crash,” Buck said, feeling defensive. Of himself or of Eddie he wasn’t sure. “Anyway, that’s not the reason I’m angry.”
“Then what is?”
Bobby always had a way of getting right down to it, didn’t he? The phone in Buck’s pocket suddenly felt like lead, too heavy and too solid.
“I’m mad because…” Buck furrowed his brow, unsure how to say it. “Because he thinks he gets the last word.”
“Oh?”
“He, uh, left me a voicemail. As the plane was…crashing.”
“What did he say?” Bobby asked, voice low and calm like he was talking to a spooked horse.
“I don’t know,” Buck admitted. “I haven’t listened to it.”
Bobby’s brows rose in surprise.
“You think I should?”
“That’s not for me to say, Buck,” Bobby replied. Buck hated that answer, even if he had expected it. He wanted Bobby to tell him he was being an idiot, that of course he should listen to the voicemail and stop being so dramatic. But Bobby understood, maybe better than anyone, why he couldn’t bring himself to. Buck thought of the way his blood had run cold listening to Athena over the radio, fighting for her life. He could only imagine what it had been like for Bobby. The idea of hearing Eddie say goodbye was terrible, the thought of listening to him… well, it was too much to bare.
“I just…I feel like listening to it makes it too real.” Buck sighed. “It’s dumb, I know.”
“I don’t think it’s dumb,” Bobby said. “I think you’re scared and don’t want to feel any worse than you already do.”
Buck nodded, not knowing quite how to respond. Bobby was right—as he usually was—but it didn’t make Buck feel like less of a coward. He tried his best to shove the feeling aside, plastering on a sarcastic grin.
“Yeah. Well. Mind if we hide here for a little while? I don’t think I can stand anymore unexpected guests.”
“Then I guess you won’t want to talk to me, huh?”
Buck’s head whipped toward the familiar voice. Standing at the top of the stairs, hands in his pockets, Tommy wore a saccharin smile. Buck hadn’t seen him since the lab explosion, a favor for which Buck still hadn’t been able to thank him enough. His eyes were sad, as they often were, boring in Buck like twin drills. Bobby cleared his throat.
“Christopher, have we ever shown you how the hoses on the truck work?” He asked. Chris scrunched his eyebrows.
“Yes?” He glanced between Bobby and Buck. Then, with a look of sudden understanding, he said, “Er, I mean, nope!”
“Why don’t I show you?” Bobby said. Chris pushed himself up out of his chair, gratefully accepting his crutches from Bobby’s outstretched hands. Buck watched, a bit mystified, as they descended the steps, leaving him alone in the loft with Tommy.
“Uh, hi,” Buck squeaked.
“Hey, Evan,” Tommy said in that tone that expressed disappointment and contentment all at once. “I heard about Eddie.”
“Yeah. I guess most people have by now.”
“How are you doing?” Tommy asked. There was a part of Buck—a not insignificant part of him—that was still pissed at Tommy for the fight in Buck’s then kitchen. The rest of him, the louder part, was so eternally grateful for Tommy’s help and felt terrible for what he’d said to him that morning. Buck hadn’t meant to hurt him. He wasn’t even sure he understood what he’d said. But he could remember the way Tommy’s face had fallen when he’d said it and the instant regret he’d felt. That part of Buck figured he could tell Tommy the truth.
“Not great,” Buck admitted. “But I’m not the one who’s missing.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Tommy said, stepping closer to Buck. “I tried your old place first and the old lady who answered the door did not appreciate my company.”
Despite himself Buck laughed. “I can’t imagine why not.”
Tommy gave him a look that said he didn’t appreciate that comment, but there was smile playing on his lips anyways. He was only a few inches away from Buck now, sliding right into his personal space in a not unwelcome way.
“You moved again.” Buck nodded in affirmation, not bothering to mention that he hadn’t exactly moved into a new apartment yet. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Hard for me to tell you things when you aren’t exactly speaking to me.”
Tommy pursed his lips, and Buck tried not to wince at the words he’d just said. It came out a bit harsher than he’d intended.
“I don’t mean—” Buck stumbled over his words. “I just meant—I don’t know what kind of stuff we tell each other. Now.”
“I’m not mad,” Tommy said. “You had no reason to tell me. It’s not like I’ve been all that communicative, either.”
“We should work on that,” Buck joked. Tommy’s eyes locked with his own, and it sent a shiver down Buck’s spine. He swallowed.
“How’s this? I’m here for you. For anything.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Even though I was a dick to you?” Buck pressed. Tommy gave an amused huff.
“I was kind of a dick, too, if I recall.” Tommy’s rough hand found Buck’s, his thumb running over Buck’s knuckles in slow, idle circles. Tommy’s eyes were locked onto it. “Evan…I saw you at the lab. I saw how much it broke you when you thought you’d lost Captain Nash. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through for the last day, when you don’t know whether your best friend is alive or dead.”
Buck tried to process what the older man was saying, but the rushing of his blood made it hard to think. He didn’t know Tommy had seen him sobbing in the biolab hallway that night. He’d known there were cameras but he hadn’t had time to stop and wonder if anyone was watching, least of all his ex-boyfriend (ex-ex-boyfriend?). In that moment, all he’d been able to focus on was the terror of losing the only real father he’d ever had. Even as that real life evil scientist had revealed she could get another dose of the anti-virus, even when he saw the vial passing by and Athena handing it off to Bobby, he couldn’t focus on anything but that despair. It wasn’t until Bobby was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital that Buck managed to feel anything else. Buck didn’t have that luxury this time around. He had Christopher to think about and as badly as he wanted to sink into his sadness, there was a very real possibility that he was about to become Chris’ legal guardian, which meant Buck had to be prepared. His sister wanted someone to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn’t fall apart, but he couldn’t, even though he so desperately wanted to. Every person who kept a watchful eye on him just reminded him how much he wasn’t allowed to feel right now.
And yet…
And yet, Tommy was standing before him, not to make sure he didn’t break, but knowing he wanted to. Something in Buck’s chest tightened and he found himself falling into Tommy. The man’s arms were instantly around him, strong and warm, enveloping Buck in an embrace. Before he could help it, a sob escaped.
“Shh, Evan, it’s okay,” Tommy said, his hands heavy where they came to rest on the small of Buck’s back. “It’s okay.”
Buck relished the warmth, the strength. It was all he could do to keep his knees from completely giving out beneath him. Even if he did, Tommy could support his weight—he was basically holding Buck up already. They stayed there for a long moment, Buck reigning in his need to weep while Tommy’s fingers swept down Buck’s lower back in short, easy strokes. Finally, Buck pulled back.
“Sorry,” he sniffed.
“It’s fine, Evan,” Tommy laughed. “It’s what I’m here for.”
“I…” Buck began. “Thank you. Seriously, Tommy. I think I really needed that.”
“My pleasure,” Tommy said, and Buck knew he meant it. “So, I take it I’m not the first person to come looking for you today?”
“Oh, you heard all that?”
“Just the ending. When I made my dramatic entrance.”
“Yeah, well, Maddie’s idea of helping.” Buck sank down onto the barstool by the kitchen island, too exhausted to stand. His eyes traced the grain of the wooden floors, a nauseating non-pattern that made his head swim. “I know I can’t stop her from worrying, but I wish I could stop her from…smothering.”
“She’s your older sister. It’s her job to smother you.”
Buck chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. I know. She’ll probably double down when she realizes Chris and I aren’t at home.”
Home. Buck cringed internally at that. It wasn’t his home—he knew that—he was just a frequent guest. If anything, he was overstaying his welcome and to be honest, if it wasn’t for the conference, Buck would have been shuffling off to his next temporary lodging sooner rather than later. Not that Eddie would ever kick Buck out. He’d probably let Buck live in his living room forever, that was just the kind of guy he was. But Buck knew better than to take advantage of a friends hospitality—at least not if you wanted them to stay your friend.
“I’ll have to let her know to put my name in the rotation,” Tommy said. Buck felt the back of his neck heat up, silently praying the flush didn’t travel to his face. That embarrassment was the last thing he need right now. He tried to casually clear his throat.
“I’m sure everyone will appreciate the break.”
Tommy rolled his eyes and Buck couldn’t help but smile. It was all so…familair. He liked Tommy. He really liked him. He was pretty sure, if given the time, he could love him. He hadn’t gotten that chance, of course, and that was Buck’s own fault. He always moved too fast or pushed too hard. Somehow, he’d fumbled Tommy twice, and yet here he was, looking at Buck like looking after him wouldn’t be the worst punishment imaginable even after everything. He wondered if Tommy thought maybe he could love Buck one day. He’d thought Buck would break his heart, after all, and wasn’t loving someone a prerequisite to letting them break your heart? He thought it might be. All he knew was that he was tired, and he was lonely, and Tommy didn’t seem to mind if he was a little chipped around the edges. He didn’t mind at all.
~~~
Lucy had been on her fair share of wet rescues. True, LA always seemed to be in one drought or another, but that somehow didn’t stop the torrential downpours. In fact, that seemed to be the only way the city of angels got rain at all. All this to say, she was used to flying through weather. It hadn’t prepared her for just how damp the PNW was. She had known that it was the one of the coldest, wettest places in the US—she’d seen Twilight, after all—but knowing and seeing were two very different things.
The chopper shook from the force of the rain that pelted them. High up in the atmosphere, the rain was ice cold, and Lucy found herself grateful for the thin shield the frame of the helicopter provided against the wind and rain. She simply was not built for cold weather. She suspected Diaz wasn’t either, him being a Texas boy. Herself, she longed for the bright LA sun the instant she left the city behind. She couldn’t imagine voluntarily living in a place like Seattle, always wet, always cold. The sooner she found Eddie, the sooner she could get back to California, the better.
Lucy tried to convince herself that the weather just had her annoyed. That the pit in her stomach was because she was cold and grumpy, and not because of a growing sense of dread. But, of course, Lucy was a realist if nothing else. The way the rain was wrapping around their aircraft wasn’t an inconvenience, it was a serious danger to the search party. How long before they’d have to turn the thing around and land? Would it before they found the plane? Worse yet, would it be before this storm wiped the plane of the map? Lucy thought about Buckley, how his big blue eyes would go gray with tears if she came back to LA empty handed. He wouldn’t hold it against her. He didn’t have it in him to be angry at someone that long, except maybe himself.
“Any sign of it?” The pilot asked. Lucy shook her head, both in response to his question, but also to shake away the image of an emotionally wrecked Evan Buckley. “We’ll never find it in this weather.”
“We will,” Lucy insisted. “We have to.”
“Listen, Donato, I know you’re looking for your friend but—”
“Just keep flying,” she cut him off. “We’ve still got time.”
The pilot didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. At least not yet. Soon, too soon, they actually would have to turn this thing around and there would be nothing Lucy could say to stop it. But until then, she had a plane to find. She wondered briefly if the other helicopter team was having any better luck. Not likely, she thought. It was too rainy to send out a ground team to look, but air support wasn’t proving much more effective. She glanced at the fuel gauge which was looking way too low for her liking, seconds away from admitting temporary defeat when the pilot let out a quiet gasp.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” his staticky voice came through her headset. Lucy’s head whipped up and she followed the gaze of the pilot.
The plane seemed impossibly large. They always did up close. Sitting amongst the expanse of evergreen, the white frame of the plane was like an egg, cracked nearly in two, it’s insides spilling out. Luggage, chairs, and…bodies. Poor, unfortunate passengers who hadn’t survived the crash, their broken bodies littering the crash site. It made Lucy’s stomach lurch, the site of so much carnage. Even with all the rain, smoke billowed from the twin engines, smoldering. Actually, the back half of the plane wasn’t the same eggshell white as the front, but rather a dark, burnt gray. Charcoal. On top of it all, the plane was positioned like a see-saw, the aircraft carefully balancing on a steep hill, all the while being pelted with rain. It was unstable at best and at worst? A disaster waiting to happen. Lucy Donato had been a firefighter for a long time. She’d worked through earthquakes and a tsunami, hell, this wasn’t even her first plane crash. Not her first, just the worst.
“My god,” Lucy managed.
“Do you really think anyone survived this?” The pilot voiced the concern she was too afraid, too unwilling to say out loud.
Lucy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wreckage.
“I hope so,” she said. “I really hope so.”
“Wait a—is that?” The pilot pointed and a feeling of hope exploded in Lucy. His gloved finger drew her attention to a figure amongst the wreckage. Someone—a survivor—stumbled from a crack in the plane’s hull, limping out onto a fallen tree that was stabbed into the plane’s side like a shiv. They were too far to make out much more than the vague outline as the figure made their way toward the front of the plane, standing on the crooked nose for a moment before ducking back inside, but Lucy didn’t need to see anymore. She knew exactly who that was. Because she only knew a handful of bastards that god-damned lucky and they were all in LA. All but one.
“Diaz,” she breathed, the reverence in her voice completely unbridled.
“Your friend is one lucky son of a bitch, you know that, Donato?”
“He’s something, alright.”
The pilot chuckled, the sound reverberating slightly through the speakers on her headset. He clicked a button on his radio and Lucy heard the distinctive crackle of the open line.
“This is Helo 0-3-Alpha. We have the plane in our sights. Coordinates are—”
The pilot stopped, seeing it at the same time Lucy did. As the helicopter came in closer, their view was better, though still at the mercy of the rain against the windshield. The shitty view didn’t matter. Lucy would have seen it from a mile away. The way the water was rushing, the way it bent the might evergreens to its will, the very mountain face shifting beneath them. The airplane moving ever so slightly.
“Control, we’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem, Helo?” a voice from ATC asked.
Lucy could feel herself leaning forward, her nose nearly touching the glass as she strained to get a visual on the whole situation. The pilot was spouting off coordinates and throwing codes back and forth with control. Other voices, the other search party members, filled Lucy’s headset. She could hardly hear them, not as she watched the figure—she could see it was Eddie for certain now—reemerge from the cockpit, pulling himself up on the nose of the plane. His gaze was trained on the helicopter, staring at but not seeing Lucy in the front seat. His arms were waving above his head, flagging them down. He knew they could see him, she knew that. He wasn’t asking them to notice them, he was asking them to save them. Begging them to. She could see him shouting. She couldn’t hear it over the blades and the rain, and Eddie was smart enough, experienced enough to know that. Still, his mouth opened and closed, a fish gasping for air it can’t breath.
She watched, frozen in horror, as the crack running down the plane’s center finally came apart in full. The charred back half of the plane plummeted down the cliff. She didn’t need to see where it landed to know what was about to happen. She braced herself, knuckles turning white where she grasped at the armrest of her chair, as the explosion that followed shook the helicopter. The front half of the plane, freed from the smoking rear, began to slide. Evidently, that pile of twisted metal had been the only thing keeping the whole wreck in place. The plane, or what was left of it, twisted, rotating horizontally as it started down the hillside, catching on trees like a pinball. Eddie, tiny next to the massive 737, lurched as the ground beneath him started to move. Lucy watched him grab for something, anything, to hold on to. For a moment, she thought he might actually hang on. Until the plane’s broken frame slammed into a clump of dense, old growth trees. She watched as his miniscule figure was flung from the plane. She tried—desperately, she tried—to follow where he went. But it was like a needle in a haystack, his figure disappearing into the chaos of the the muddy avalanche.
“Helo?” the voice repeated. Lucy let out a shaky breath.
“A fucking landslide.”
Chapter 5: Fighting Words
Notes:
She's a long one so settle in! Also, because Bobby is ALIVE and he would NOT want a baby named after him, Maddie and Chimney's son is named Kevin.
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
The thing about being a police officer was that Athena tended to learn things first. Most of the time, that was for the best. She was easily the most level-headed person in their little rag-tag family. None of Bobby’s people could ever be trusted to keep their cool, not even Henrietta. She meant it with all the love in her heart, but these people were dramatic. Sometimes, though, it was a burden.
Like now, when the rookie Athena had tasked with keeping her updated on the plane crash informed her that the rescue effort had encountered a roadblock. Actually, roadblock was putting it lightly. It was more like the whole damn road had been washed away in a mudslide, along with the plane and any survivors.
Athena didn’t want to know this. She didn’t want to go home to her husband and watch the devastation build behind his eyes. She didn’t want to go back to Eddie Diaz’s house, to his best friend and his son, and tell them what she knew. She didn’t want Buck to look at her with those baby-blues full of hope, like he had all the faith in the world that Athena could make it better, make the hurt go away, fix what was wrong. It wasn’t fair. Not to Athena, who loved Buck like her own even if she’d never said it outloud, who had kids of her own that knew what it was like for their parent to not come home, who didn’t like lying but couldn’t look those boys in the eye and tell them the truth. She knew Eddie the least of Bobby’s people. He hadn’t been around as long as the others, and he was more guarded. Still, she had a soft spot for him. And she knew he was a fighter. They all were. If anyone could survive the crash, it was him. He had a whole lot to get back to.
Sinking into the chair at her desk, Athena let out a long, slow breath. She should tell them. She knew that. But part of her believed that she could fix anything. An irrational part, maybe, but it hadn’t stopped her before. Before she said anything, Athena needed to make a few calls.
The number was easy to find, just a quick google search away. Getting through to someone with authority? That was more difficult. Getting to someone with a brain? Damn near impossible.
Eventually, Athena worked her way up to someone in charge, and she was ready to give them an earful.
“Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset—” the man was saying.
“No, I am not upset, I am confused. I’m confused because the search and rescue teams aren’t searching and they sure as hell aren’t rescuing!” Athena wasn’t sure if she was using a cop voice or a mom voice. Either way, it seemed to needle at the man.
“The weather right now prohibits the rescue teams from safely accessing the crash site, Sergeant Grant. If we attempted rescue now, we’d need another whole team to rescue the rescue team!”
“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Athena replied, full mom-voice.
“My apologies, ma’am,” he said. “Listen. We are doing everything we can, but it’s slow going. Hopefully, when the rain stops, we can land and get the plane secured. Until then, we just have to wait and hope that things don’t get any worse.”
“How long before the rain stops?” She asked.
“It’s Seattle, ma’am.”
“I’ll take that as we have no fucking clue,” Athena sighed.
“Pretty much,” the man said. “I’ll keep you updated, Sergeant Grant.”
“Thank you,” Athena said, not really meaning it. The phone clicked, disconnecting, leaving Athena alone in her too quite office. She put the phone back on the receiver and leaned back, a wave of exhaustion coming over her. It’s Seattle, he’d said, like that was any answer at all. Like that meant anything to her. Her fingers drummed idly against the desk, a gentle rhythm not unlike the pitter patter of raindrops. Wait and hope, he’d said. Athena was no good at waiting.
She picked up the phone and dialed.
~~~
Eventually, Maddie found him. It wasn’t hard, really. There were only so many places that he would go, and all of their friends were exceptionally bad liars. Bobby had tried not to give him away, but Maddie could see right through him. On the one hand, it warmed her heart to know just how loyal Buck’s chosen family was. On the other hand, how dare Bobby try—even poorly—to keep her from her baby brother?!
After checking to make sure he was okay, Maddie smacked the back of Buck’s head. He whined, rubbing the sore spot as she chided him. Maddie had always had a maternal instinct, especially when it came to Buck. From the moment her parents had brought him home, he was hers. Her baby brother, her Evan, and later her Buck. His first word had been Maddie’s name. His first steps were toward her. She knew, and so did he, that what they had between was more than normal siblings had. And then Maddie and Chim had kids, babies that really were Maddie’s. It didn’t diminish the love she had for Buck, but it was different. The thing was, she was still full of new-baby hormones and they were in overdrive right now.
Did Maddie know that she was being overprotective? Yes. Could she help it? Absolutely not. Her baby brain simply could not distinguish between Buck—a grown man—and the children in tow behind her. Jee-Yun was waddling along, a few paces slower than Maddie. Howie followed behind her, Kevin in his arms. The baby cooed gently, soothing something inside Maddie, but not enough to stop the tirade flowing from her as she scolded her brother.
“We have been worried sick!” Maddie said. “You couldn’t have called?”
“Maddie,” Buck said, sounding so much like the teenager that lived now only in her memory, sheepishly rubbing his neck. “I’m not a kid. I don’t need babysitters and I don’t need to tell you everywhere I go.”
“And you!” She whirled on the tall figure next to her brother. “You should have—”
Maddie stopped short as her angry tunnel vision began to recede enough to recognize the man standing before her.
“You’re not Bobby,” she said.
“Uh, no. I am not,” Tommy confirmed. He looked about as awkward as Maddie felt. She could count on one hand the times she had actually met her brothers ex-boyfriend, including this surprise encounter. She had expected Bobby, whom she was prepared to give a piece of her mind. Somehow, Tommy’s presence sucked the anger out of her, replacing it all at once with confusion and exhaustion.
“Did I—Did I know you were here?” Maddie asked, unsure if she had somehow missed something.
“I don’t think so,” Tommy chuckled. Something about it annoyed Maddie, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I should go, I think.”
“You’re leaving?” Buck asked. His eyes followed Tommy as he took a step away. The firefighter tilted his head, giving Buck a small smile.
“I think you and your sister have some talking to do,” his eyes flicked between the siblings. “Remember what I told you, Evan. Alright?”
“I will.” Satisfied by that answer, Tommy gave Buck a peck on the cheek that had the young man flushing bright pink, and turned to leave. He gave a nod to Maddie, then to Chim, and descended down the stairs. Maddie waited until he was out of earshot before turning to her brother, brows pinched together.
“What was that about?” Maddie asked, unable to hide the incredulity in her tone.
“Wh—Nothing!” Buck sputtered. “He was just…being a friend.”
“You two are friends again?”
“Yes.”
“And what we just saw…that was a friendly exchange?”
“...yes.”
“Just for the record,” Howie pipped up, shifting his hold on Kevin. “I have never kissed Buck on the cheek.”
“Who’s side are you on, Chimney?” Buck shot him a look.
“The truth!” Howie shouted. Jee giggled at her daddy’s antics, pushing past Maddie with her arms extended to Uncle Buck. Her little hands opened and closed excitedly as Buck stooped down, scooping her up in a massive bear hug. Maddie couldn’t help but smile as Buck pressed his lips to Jee’s cheek, blowing raspberries that elicited further giggling from the toddler.
“There’s my best girl!” Buck said to his niece in a silly baby voice. “Your mommy can’t possibly be mad at me while we look this cute!”
“Yes, I can,” Maddie said, but he was right. It was impossible to stay angry when the view was this adorable. He knew it, too, because the grin that he gave her was the kind that said I just got away with something. She was very familiar with that grin. Kevin let out a little laugh, and a second later the smell hit her.
“Uh oh,” Howie said, holding the baby out from him, nose scrunched. “I gotta go take care of this.”
Buck laughed as Howie hurried out of the room and toward a bathroom to change Kevin’s diaper. Jee squirmed in his arms, so he let her down and she toddled off after her dad. Buck watched them go, and Maddie watched Buck watching.
“Are you okay?” She asked. Buck’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath.
“I’m…” Buck seemed to struggle to find the words. “I’m fine. I’m not dying, I’m not missing, I’m not anything. I’m just…waiting.”
Maddie could see the weight of the world resting on Buck’s shoulders, could see the way they sagged under that weight. All she wanted was to make it go away, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t a weight she could carry for him. Instead, she slid into the spot beside him. It was like magnets clicking into place when the two siblings were together, a gravitational pull that couldn’t be helped. She let her head fall against his arm, feeling the warmth of him spread to her instantly.
“I’m sorry,” Maddie whispered.
“It’s not your fault,” Buck replied, not a beat between the two sentences.
“I want to help you, Buck. I want to make it better, I can’t help it.”
“I know.” She could hear the smile lacing his voice. “But I don’t think there’s anything you can do this time.”
“I hate that,” she admitted. It was a joke and it wasn’t. Buck understood. “I’ll call of the watch dogs.”
“Thank you,” Buck said. “But, hey, just because I don’t need a babysitter doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy a little company. Besides, I’m sure Chris would love to see Jee and Kevin.”
Maddie looked up at her little brother who wasn’t so little, at the softness of his features that made him look so much younger—the dimples, the blue eyes, the curls—and felt the warmth of pride bursting inside her. Someone, maybe not her and certainly not their parents, but someone had made sure Buck grew up into a wonderful person. And she was pretty sure that person was just himself. He’d done it all on his own, not because of anyone but despite them. Behind Buck, her eye caught Bobby’s. At some point in their conversation, he had materialized at the far end of the loft, Christopher at his side. In his eyes, she could see that he was thinking the same thing she was.
“Why don’t you all come over for dinner tonight?” Bobby said. Buck startled, not having noticed the captain appearing behind him. He glanced suspiciously between Bobby and Maddie for a moment, like they had conspired together against him, but his eyes were still soft.
“Chris? You up for it?” Buck asked.
“Up for what?” Chimney’s voice called from the other end of the loft. “What did I miss?”
Chris’ eyes lit up when he saw Jee toddling toward him. Last time they’d all been together, both children had been smaller. Now, Christopher was a gangly teen and Jee was growing up way too quick for Maddie’s liking. The image of them playing together was just too cute to handle. He wasn’t exactly related to her, but Chris was part of Jee’s family.
“Dinner at Athena and I’s,” Bobby supplied for Chimney.
“Oh. Nice, no dishes!”
“You are the worst dinner guest, dude.” Buck barked a laugh at the offended look of Howie’s face. Maddie, too, let out a little laugh at her husbands expense.
The conversation quickly devolved into who should bring what, Bobby insisting that it was unnecessary but the Buckley family need to please kicked in hard. Buck and Maddie were not the kind of people to show up empty handed, not when they were guests in someone’s house. Before long, they were all talking over one another: Buck spouting a list of ingredients he needed for a dark chocolate tart, Maddie interrogating Bobby about Athena’s wine preferences, Bobby trying desperately to make the siblings relax. Chris, Jee following like a little duck, had migrated towards Howie and Kevin, a big grin spreading across the boy’s face as he talked to the baby. In the chaos of it all, it almost felt normal. Like no one was missing from this scene. Almost.
“Grandma? Abuelo?” Christopher’s voice echoed in the firehouse, cutting through the mindless party-planning chatter.
Maddie watched Buck’s head whip up so fast she was surprised it didn’t hurt, eyes wide with shock. His hand found Maddie’s, giving it a gentle squeeze that she suspected was more for himself than anything.
Then, quietly, so quiet he meant only for her to hear, Buck whispered, “I don’t think I’m gonna survive long enough for dinner.”
~~~
The last time Buck had seen Diazs was one of the worst days of Buck’s life. He was pretty sure it was the worst day of Eddie’s. The image of Eddie, on his knees, begging Christopher to listen to him while his parents looked on, emotionless, was seared in Buck’s mind like a brand. It was all he could see now as he stared at them across Bobby and Athena’s dining room table. Somehow, Bobby had managed to convince them to come over for dinner, and Buck couldn’t decide if he was grateful or furious. They’d all left the firehouse unceremoniously, Buck and Chris driving back to the house in silence, his grandparents following close behind. He’d had to let them in with his key, shown them to Eddie’s room. From the size of the bags they carried, they weren’t planning to stay long. Again, Buck wasn’t sure how to feel about that. They—his grandmother, really—bombarded Chris with question, grilling him about the last few months. It was an interrogation, but she did it all with a smile on her face. Eddie’s father was quiet. Almost unnervingly, but it was one of the things Buck remembered about the man from the few times they’d met. He wasn’t a talker. Instead, he stood quietly a few feet behind his wife, looking around the room like he was inspecting it. What was he looking for? Buck had wondered. After about twenty minutes, Buck excused himself to go to the store. Chris seemed inclined to join him, but Mrs. Diaz had a way of taking control.
“Oh, go ahead! We’ll stay here with Christopher!” She’d said, voice cheery and high. Buck had looked to Chris, not willing to leave him without the boy’s permission.
Chris just said, “Don’t forget the milk this time,” and Buck took that as permission enough.
Now, as Mrs. Diaz doted on Chris, Buck wondered if anyone else could see Christopher’s annoyance or if Buck was just projecting. He was fourteen years old, not six. Buck wanted to tell them as much, but he wasn’t sure his intervention would be welcome. Chris could take care of himself, and that included telling his grandparents to back off. He tried instead to focus on the plate of food before him, a delicious dinner that Bobby and Athena had so carefully made for their guests. But the plate held little interest for him, and neither did the idle small talk that the table produced. Tables, actually. There were over a dozen people in this house, and they didn’t all fit at one table. At the end, where a second table had been shoved up against the first, Mara, Denny, and Jee were giggling, the older two teasing the little girl. Chim and Karen were on either side of them, keeping one eye on the kids and another on the the rest of the table. Beside them, across from one another, Hen and Maddie made up one half of the table. In the center, Buck sat across from Chris, who in turn sat next to his grandmother. The end of the table held Athena at the head and Bobby by her side. Which left Buck sitting next to Mr. Diaz, which was a lot like sitting beside a wall.
“So, Mrs. Diaz—” Athena started. She waved a hand, cutting Athena off.
“Please, call me Helena!”
Athena blinked. “Helena. Are you planning to stay long?”
“Oh, well, I supposed that all depends,” Helena said in her sing-songy voice.
“Depends?” Athena asked. There was a slight edge in Athena’s voice as she spoke to Helena that had Buck listening intently.
“We left El Paso as soon as my sister called,” Ramón said.
“We know that we’re not any more use to Eddie in LA, of course,” Helena picked up the thread. “But we wanted to be here for Christopher, look after him.”
“Well, I’m sure Chris appreciates that, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. But don’t be worried,” Bobby said, his hand resting atop of Athena’s, fingers tangled together. “Chris is a very popular kid around here.”
“We can see that,” Ramón said. His gaze flicked around the room, at the faces that so clearly loved Christopher. His eyes paused a moment on Buck—or maybe he just imagined they did—before returning to Bobby.
“Anyway, until this whole…thing is settled, we’ll stay.” Helena smiled, her gaze cutting across the table to Buck. There was no way he imagined that. She was looking right at him when she said it, like it was a threat. It might be.
“Denny, Mara,” Hen said. “Why don’t you two start clearing the table, hmm?”
“Yes, Mama,” the kids said in unison. It was actually really cute, the way they had become so close, like they’d been siblings their whole lives.
“I’ll help,” Chris said, jumping to his feet. He followed Denny and Mara out. Buck smiled a little. He tried to hide it, but it pleased him to see that Chris was just as eager to get away from this conversation as he was.
“It’s just that there hasn’t been any updates on the search. I mean we still don’t even know where the plane is!” Helena squeaked. It was true. As far as any of them knew, the plane was still missing, along with all of its passengers.
“Search and rescue can be a long and terrible wait,” Hen said sympathetically. “But they’ll find them.”
“Hen’s right,” Chim added. “We just have to, well, wait.”
“No news is good news. Isn’t that what they say?” Ramón asked.
“Sometimes,” Athena said. Ever the realist. Athena never lied. She never withheld the truth, not when she knew it was better than even a comforting lie. “Sometimes any news is.”
Helena and Ramón exchanged a look. There was a deep sadness behind their eyes, especially Eddie’s father. Buck didn’t have any kids of his own, not really, but he loved Christopher in a way that he thought must be close to what it’s like. When they’d been caught in the tsunami, separated, and Buck was desperately—so, so desperately—searching for him, he would have given anything to know he was safe. But if he hadn’t been…would Buck want to know that, too? When he thought he’d lost him, it was the worst he had ever felt in his entire life. Forget ladder truck, forget lightning bolt—thinking Chris was dead made them feel like a splinter. But the not knowing…the not knowing was unbearable. Any news, he thought.
“There’s good people working on it,” Buck said. “The best, believe me.”
“You know something we don’t, Buckaroo?” Hen asked.
“Uh, actually, yeah,” Buck mumbled, feeling a bit guilty for withholding. “Lucy volunteered to help with the search.”
“Donato?” Chim said. “Huh. I didn’t know Eddie and she were that close.”
“They weren’t.”
Buck could feel Bobby’s eyes on him even without seeing him. Helena shook her head, looking around the table for someone to explain.
“Lucy? Who is Lucy?” She asked.
“Lucy Donato is a very talented member of the LAFD. She used to work at the 118,” Bobby explained.
“So she and Eddie worked together?” Helena suggested.
“No, actually. Lucy was with us temporarily, while Eddie was stationed at dispatch.”
“Oh,” Helena said, clearly confused.
“I’m sorry,” Hen interrupted. “When did you talk to Lucy?”
Buck felt the weight of the tables attention. Bobby’s eyes were still boring into him, leaving him feeling strangely raw and exposed. The rest of the eyes were on him now, too. It made his skin itch.
“After you left this morning, she came over,” Buck supplied. “She stopped by to let me know she knew a guy with SFD Search and Rescue, that she was going to help with the search.”
“And she just…flew all the way to Seattle?” Karen took a sip from her wine glass, her eyebrows raised suspiciously.
“Wait, isn’t this the firefighter you kissed?” Maddie asked.
“Maddie!” Buck yelled. Heat flooded his cheeks and he knew he was turning a stupid shade of pink.
“Sorry!” She blurted, cringing. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s very nice of Lucy to help with the search. She’s a good friend.”
“Lucy is a good person. She’d do it for any of us,” Buck said. It effectively shut down the line of questioning about Lucy’s motivations. Buck didn’t want to have that conversation, especially not when he wasn’t sure of her motives himself. In the end, it really didn’t matter. Lucy was good at her job and that was what Eddie needed. Before anyone could say anything else, the kitchen timer started beeping.
“Buck!” Chris called from the kitchen. “Dessert!”
“My tart!” Buck jumped up, the chair scraping as it slid. He’d completely forgotten about the dessert he had in the oven. “Excuse me.”
He rushed to the kitchen, the timer still beeping incessantly. Buck went for the drawer, but Denny was at the ready with oven mitts. Buck accepted them, pulling the oven open. Instantly the smell of perfectly baked dark chocolate and toasted crust wafted into the kitchen, filling Buck’s nose. He carefully removed the tart, setting it on the stovetop. Steam was pouring off of the freshly baked tart like a cartoon, made even sillier looking by Buck and the three pre-teens that surrounded it, gazing at the molten hot chocolate like third-degree burns might be worth it.
“—we just think it’s important to be prepared.” Helena’s voice carried to the kitchen. Buck head titled just slightly, listening in to the conversation that had continued after his absence.
“Prepared?” Maddie asked.
“For the worst,” Ramón said.
“Who knows how long the search will take, or the rescue. I mean, I’ve read these things can go on for months. Isn’t that true?” Helena was saying. Buck felt himself moving toward the dining room.
“Months is a bit of an exaggeration. Except in places like the Amazon or the Congo, maybe,” Hen said. Her voice had that annoyed tone it got when people spouted things like they were facts that just weren’t. It was almost funny.
“Chris needs someone to take care of him in that time, no matter how long it takes. And if…I mean, if things are really bad…” Helena trailed off, but the intended words hung in the air anyway.
“He’s not dead,” Buck said, voice unrecognizable as his own. Helena whipped around to him, startled by his sudden reentry in the doorway.
“No, of course not,” she said. “But if—”
“He’s not dead.”
“Buck,” Athena warned. Buck ignored her. So did Eddie’s parents.
“We have to be prepared. Chris needs us to be prepared,” Helena said.
“You’re acting like he’s gone, like you’ve already buried him!” Buck could feel himself getting worked up, too angry, too devastated to think straight. He could feel the tension in the room as everyone watched the verbal tennis match occurring between Helena and himself. He knew he needed to calm down. He knew all of this, but it didn’t change anything.
“Young man, watch your tone,” Ramón warned him.
“You’re a…very good friend, Buck,” Helena started. His name sounded sour in her mouth. Rotten. “But we’re Eddie’s parents. We don’t want to believe…we don’t that anymore than you do, but it’s something we have to consider.”
“No,” Buck shook his head. “No, it isn’t! Because Eddie is alive! He’s out there, alive and fighting to get home, and you two want to write him off!”
“Buck.” Athena’s voice was commanding, gentle but firm.
“What?” He asked, barely biting back the rage he felt.
“There’s something you should know,” she said. “Something you should all know.”
As Athena explained the news she had learned about the search this morning, Buck’s stomach twisted into knots. His lungs felt leaden, too heavy for his to get a deep breath without them collapsing completely on the exhale. All this time, all morning, Athena had known. She had known that the plane wasn’t missing. That someone had seen Eddie alive. That the rescue was delayed. And she hadn’t told them. He was furious. He’d been angry at Athena before, but never like this, never in a way that burned so hot. But beyond that, he was scared.
“Oh, god,” Helena said, her hand going up to cover her mouth. Ramón reached across the table, taking her other hand in his. Buck just stood there, silent and alone.
“He’s alive,” Buck breathed. Helena and Ramón turned to him, brows furrowed.
“He…Buck, he was swept away by a landslide,” Hen whispered. “He might be…”
“But he was alive. He could still be alive, right?”
Hen hesitated before replying, searching for something in Buck’s eyes. She sighed. “He could be.”
“But he could be dead.” It was Ramón who spoke up. Buck could see the tears in his eyes when he looked up, tears that refused to fall. He could see the line of his set jaw, the way his mouth puckered ever so slightly, like the emotion inside him tasted like bile. He looked like Eddie. “And we need to be ready for that.”
Buck didn’t reply. He wanted to. He wanted to yell, to scream at the Diazs and tell them to stop, to stop failing their son. But Buck couldn’t get it out, he couldn’t do anything but look at Ramón and see Eddie. No one said a word. You could have heard a pen drop in the Grant-Nash house.
“We are Eddie’s family, Christopher’s family. You need to understand that if worst comes to worst, Edmundo would want him to be with family.”
It was like a slap in the face, the way it stung. Of course that’s why they’d come. Not for Eddie, not their son. They came because it was their chance to take Chris away again, to get what they wanted. And then a thought struck Buck, slammed into him like a semi.
They don’t know.
None of them knew, Buck realized with a start. Not even Christopher. Buck’s mind flashed back to that day in the hospital. Eddie, his skin pale and sallow, his arm in a sling, the way he had gestured for Buck to sit beside him. He was only just being released, the bullet wound still fresh in his shoulder, and yet he was comforting Buck. It should have been the other way around, but it seemed like it was always this way. Eddie comforting Buck, Buck needing Eddie. For over a year, Buck learned, Eddie’d had him in his will. If anything happens to me, he’d said. They’d never spoken about it again. Buck had thought about it. He thought about it all the time. What it meant, how much he hoped it never happened, how Eddie had kept it a secret from him and why had he done that?
“That’s not what Eddie wants,” Buck said, his voice coming out as no more than a whisper.
“Excuse me?” Helena demanded.
“I said, that’s not what he wants,” Buck repeated, stronger this time, bolstered by the knowledge he held.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because…” Buck swallowed. “Because it’s in his will that if anything happens to him, I become Chris’ legal guardian.”
Chaos erupted. A chorus of ‘what’s and gasps of disbelief, even some chuckles that sounded suspiciously like Chimney.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Helena sputtered. “How dare you? My son would never—I can’t—how dare you?!”
“Why don’t we all just cool down?” Bobby tried. It didn’t work.
Ramón seethed. “This is preposterous!”
“Are you calling him a liar?” Athena stood, apparently feeling protective. After all, the Diazs were guests in her house, and Buck was…well, he was something to her.
“Athena, please—” Bobby put his hand on her arm, but she ignored him.
“Of all the ridiculous—”
“How dare you!”
“Let’s all just calm—”
“Stop it!” A voice cut through the rest. Chris stepped into the room, his arm brushing against Buck as he passed him in the doorway. The room fell quiet at Christopher’s command, and Buck realized that Chris had heard everything they said from the kitchen. The wave of guilt that smacked into Buck nearly floored him, only the frame of the doorway keeping him on his feet.
“Buck,” Chris looked at him, his eyes wide and watery. “Is it true?”
“Yeah, bud,” Buck managed, voice raw. “It’s true.”
Helena looked like she wanted to say something, but a hard stare from Athena kept her quiet. Chris nodded his head, processing the life altering news he had just learned.
“He didn’t tell me,” Chris whispered.
“I’m sorry, Chris. I—he should have said something. I should have.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed. “I didn’t think we lied to each other.”
“I know. And I won’t, ever again. I promise,” Buck said, extending his pinky to the boy. Chris hesitated a moment, then extended his own, locking them together.
“Tell me the truth now,” Chris said. “Do you think Dad is alive? Really?”
“I do,” Buck said. There was no need to think, no pause before speaking. Buck believed with ever fiber of his being that Eddie was alive. He’d know if he wasn’t. He’d feel it.
“Me, too,” Chris replied, his voice shaking a bit. Buck brows knitted together, tears stinging his eyes. He pulled Chris into a hug, squeezing him harder than he probably should have. He whispered in Buck’s ear, “Can we go home?”
“Yeah, bud,” Buck laughed lightly. “Let’s go home.”
~~~
Seven Hours Ago
“Okay…so no one has any idea where we are,” Eddie repeated. “Great.”
“The GPS malfunction got us lost, and without it there’s no way for them to ping our location.”
“Captain—“
“Hillerman,” the pilot supplied.
“Captian Hillerman, we need to get off this plane.” Eddie could feel it shifting beneath them every so often, could feel how the rain soaked ground was just waiting to give way.
“Off?” Hillerman asked. “You’re not planning to walk to Seattle, are you?”
“No, ma’am,” Eddie smiled, shaking his head. “But if we’re in here when it slides down the mountain…”
The captain got the picture. Inside the plane, they were mostly dry, mostly warm. But it was like being dangled over a pool of angry sharks. And the rain was the knife, sawing at the rope until it frayed and snapped. Maybe they couldn’t walk to Seattle, but Eddie knew from experience, you didn’t want to be inside a vehicle when it fell off a cliff.
“Eddie?” Sarah’s voice called, muffled by the door. Eddie was on his feet in a flash, shoving open the jammed cockpit door. Sarah stepped back as the door flung open, eyes wide.
“He…he’s not conscious. He stopped talking and he just—” Sarah sputtered. Eddie gripped her by the shoulders. Her eyes were staring up into his own, the terror coursing through her evident in her eyes.
“Sarah! Calm down!” She was on the edge of hyperventilating, and Eddie had too much to take care of already without her passing out. “Relax, Sarah.”
She nodded, her lip quivering as she struggled to keep her breathing in check. Her whole body was trembling, Eddie could feel it under his fingertips. She was 18 years old. A baby. But she’d survived the crash, and Eddie was determined, come hell or high water, that she was going to make it home. Eddie was shaking a bit himself. Actually, so was Hillerman. So was the whole plane. Eddie’s brow furrowed.
“Do you hear that?” Hillerman asked. Eddie strained to listen. There was something, a buzzing, a rhythmic beating like…
Like a helicopter.
“Stay here,” Eddie ordered. He didn’t wait to see if they’d listen, just turned and strode toward the windshield. He vaulted himself up and out of the cockpit, returning to the unsteady nose of the plane.
Sure enough, a helicopter—red, with the letters SFD proudly painted in large white letter—was hovering in the air, just close enough that they could feel the wind shifting around the propellers. Rain pelted Eddie as he took shaky, limping steps forward. In the last hour, the weather had gotten worse and worse, and it looked like it was going to keep trending that way. It was now or never, Eddie knew. He raised his arms above his head, waving wildly. He couldn’t make out the figures in the helicopter, not with the distance and rain, but he knew they could see him.
“HEY!” He shouted. Futile, that was what it was. They couldn’t hear him. He could barely hear himself. Still, he screamed. “HEY! GET US OUT OF HERE!”
The metal frame shifted beneath him, a groaning, metallic creak accompanying the movement. He swayed, just barely keeping his balance. They needed to go. Now. Eddie had only a second as he felt the plane lurch and twist. He was flung forward, his chin slamming into the cold, hard metal. The impact sent a shockwave through his jaw, his teeth aching at the impact. His hands grabbed desperately, grasping for anything to hold on to, anything at all. His fingers wrapped around something, sharp and thin, that sliced like a blade into his palm. He winced, and his fingers instinctively released.
Above, the helicopter was still hovering, a witness to his plight. Eddie glanced over his shoulder as he flew through the air, smacking into the frame of the plane as he tumbled away. The wall of mud that was coming for them was massive, a veritable tidal wave of dirt and rain and tree limbs. Eddie closed his eyes and braced for impact.
Now
The sun was shining on Eddie’s face, he knew without opening his eyes. He could feel the warmth of it. He must have fallen asleep. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes, on nice days like this, when he and Buck had the shift off together and Chris didn’t have school, they’d take him to the park. Eddie had passed out, exhausted from work, on a park bench more than a handful of times. Eddie could feel the gentle pressure of someone pressing into his side. He felt a small smile forming on his lips. He blinked, expecting to see Buck sitting on the bench next to him, personal space something nonexistent where the two of them were concerned.
It wasn’t a park. Eddie wasn’t in LA, and Buck wasn’t beside him.
The realisation hit him like a ton of brick, sucking him back to reality. He stied to sit up, sending a jolt of pain so sharp and severe through him that a scream ripped its way out of his throat against his will. Eddie sagged back down, his muscles losing whatever strength they’d had a moment before. He took stock. It was sunny. The rain had stopped, which was a win. The ground was still wet, though, more mud than anything else. Eddie could feel it all over him, caked on in thick, semi-hardened layers. His head was pounding—definetly a concussion—and his eyes had trouble focusing. He was dehydrated, exhausted, dirty, and in a hell of a lot of pain. On top of the previous injuries, Eddie could add a dislocated shoulder and something worse.
Finally working up the courage, Eddie’s hand found his side. There had been pressure there, he wasn’t making it up. But it wasn’t the weight of a person, but rather the dull sensation of being impaled. Wherever the wave of mud had carried Eddie—and it had carried him far enough from the plane that he couldn’t see it anywhere around—with had done it with enough force to send the branch of a fallen tree straight through his abdomen.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathed. The mud at his side was a rusty color, mixed with his own blood. Luckily, the tree limb protruding from Eddie’s middle seemed to be stemming most of the blood loss, and he didn’t think it had hit anything too important, at least not as far as he could tell. Part of him knew that was a good thing. A survivable thing. The other part of him had the dangerous thought that he wished it had hit something to shut of the pain receptors sending overwhelming signals to his brain right now.
He could close his eyes. He could close them, slip away quietly. There were worse places to die, he thought. This wasn’t ideal, but it could be worse. It could always be worse. His eyelids were heavy. So, so heavy. He blinked, slowly, once then twice. He let his eyes close. It was just for a second, right?
“Eddie!”
Eddie’s eyes fluttered open. There was dirt on his lashes, and it threatened to fall into his eyes. There was no one here, no one but Eddie who would have said anything. Still, the familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"You don’t get to leave, Eddie,” the gravelly voice said. ”You’re supposed to come home. Fight to come home, Eddie.”
He knew that voice. He’d know it anywhere and in any life, if such a thing even existed. Buck was calling to him, reminding him to fight.
"Come home, Dad. You have to come home.” Christopher’s voice joined Buck’s. It was like a serenade of ghosts, except they weren’t dead. But Eddie might be.
He squeezed his eyes close, the n let them fly open, like he’d wake up somewhere else that made sense. But he was still here, still alone, still hearing voices.
"I have something I need to say to you,” Not-Buck said.
Just say it, Eddie thought.
"No. You have to come home first.” And wasn’t that just like Buck? Making him work for it? Eddie knew it would be easier to fall asleep and never wake up again. But he really didn’t want to. He didn’t want the last conversation he had with this family to be about what he forgot to pack in his carry-on. He didn’t want to think about Buck and Chris, alone in a house without him. He didn’t want to die.
I will always fight to come home to my family.
He just had to fight a little longer.
Chapter 6: Eidolon
Summary:
ei-do-lon
noun: eidolon; plural noun: eidola; plural noun: eidolons
1. an idealized person or thing.
2. a specter or phantom.
Chapter Text
The four of them returning to the Diaz boy’s house is…awkward, to say the least. Buck wishes they’d get a hotel. Or that he could. But that isn’t an option and Buck really does want to play nice, so he made himself scarce until Helena and Ramón were settled in Eddie’s room for the night. Buck is heading for the couch when he hears Christopher’s voice calling to him.
Instantly, Buck rushed down the hallway, gently pushing the boy’s door open. Christopher was sitting up, his blankets all in a tangle it his feet. He swallowed.
“What’s wrong?” Buck asked, voice laced with concern. Chris’ eyes flitted around the room, never settling too long on Buck before finding somewhere new to look.
“Can you…” he started. “Will you stay here? Just…until I fall asleep. Please.”
“Of course,” Buck blurts. His chest aches when he sees the relief flood Christopher’s features, like he though Buck might say no. “Yeah, bud, of course I will.”
“Thanks.”
Chris sniffed and Buck wondered if he’d been crying in here, and how long. Buck gives him a small, sad smile. Chris laid down, and, on instinct, Buck began pulling up the blankets to cover him.
“Oh, sorry,” Buck apologized, pulling his hands away. Chris wasn’t a baby, and Buck didn’t want to treat him like one.
“ ‘s okay,” Chris murmured, already starting to fall asleep, his eyelids fluttering. Buck reached over, pulling the lamp string, plunging the room into a peaceful darkness, the only light the soft green of the glow-in-the-dark stars Buck had helped Eddie pick out for Chris’ birthday a few years back. He started to back out of the room when Christopher’s hand shot out, wrapping around Buck’s wrist. Instead, Buck squatted down, sitting next to the bed on a pile of discarded pillows and stuffed animals. He held Christopher’s hand gently in his own, chest aching at the sight of the boy. In sleep, he looked so peaceful. His usually scrunched brows flattened out, his long eyelashes fluttering in REM. He looks like Eddie, Buck thought.
Buck fished his phone from his pocket and opened his camera. He clicked, taking a photo and cringing when his flash lit the room. Luckily, Chris didn’t wake, just shifted slightly, rubbing his face further into his pillow. Buck smiled at the photo. The flash made it look a little silly, kinda old maybe, but it was still cute: Chris with his hand gripping Buck’s, a line of drool spilling from his slightly open mouth. Buck clicked share, thumb hovering over Eddie’s contact picture when it hit him.
He can’t text Eddie. He can’t call him, can’t send him pictures of Chris. Can’t talk to him. It’s a kind of torture that Buck isn’t sure he can survive, an ache that builds deep in the pit of his stomach and makes bile rise in his throat. He can’t talk to Eddie but he needs to talk to someone. Buck opens his messages app and types out a text to Tommy.
Buck
You missed an eventful evening. Still sure you want to be in the rotation?
After a moment of hesitation, he clicks send, then instantly regrets it. What is he doing? Tommy doesn’t want to deal with his shit, certainly not in the middle of the night. A little part of his brain reminded him that Tommy had offered, that he had come to find Buck of his own free will and that he wanted to be there for him. The thought made Buck’s heart pound in his chest, beating against his ribs so hard he thought it might break something. He had messed it up, twice. But Tommy wanted him, didn’t he? It sure seemed like it. It wasn’t a feeling Buck was used to—being wanted. With Abby, with Taylor, it seemed like Buck was always the one wanting, the one always inevitably being left heartbroken. When they’d broken up, it looked like it was the same old thing with Tommy. But here he was now, attempt number three. What’s that they say? Third times the charm? Buck typed out a second message.
Buck
I’ve missed you
“What is wrong with you?” Buck hissed at himself, quickly erasing the words he’d just typed. He tossed the phone aside. He really had no idea what he was doing. Tommy was being a good friend. Just like Lucy, just like Hen and Chim and everyone else. They were being nice and they were worried about Eddie, and Buck was sitting here reading into it like an idiot. Seriously, he was losing it.
Buck took a deep breath, carding a hand over his face. Beside him, Christopher was fast asleep. He probably wouldn’t notice if Buck got up and slipped out, made his way to the couch to sleep. He’d stayed, just like he promised he would. But Buck couldn’t bring himself to let go of the boy’s hand. Not yet.
It wasn’t until he heard the clattering of pot and pans in the kitchen that Buck even realized he’d fallen asleep. His neck hurt from the odd angle he found himself in, still sitting on the floor of Christopher’s room with his head on the edge of the mattress. Chris wasn’t in bed, the covers pulled back, unmade. He could hear Eddie’s parents in the next room, chatting with the boy.
Good luck, Buck thought. Chris, much like his father, wasn’t much of a morning person.
Buck popped his neck, stretching and groaning, trying to shake off the sleep still pulling at him. He pushed himself to his feet and made for the door. His toe collided with something hard on the floor. Buck looked down and saw his phone, which was by some miracle not dead. When he picked it up, he scrolled idly through his notifications. One caught his eye.
Tommy
Nothing could keep me away, Evan. You’ll have to fill me in. When can I see you again?
~~~
“Remember!” The team leader’s voice boomed through the assembled crowd of rescue workers. “We have a limited window to work while the weather permits, but the ground here is still unstable. Work quick, and work careful!”
It wasn’t anything new, but they all nodded their understanding. They were split into small teams. Some to scan the area, some to secure the plane, some to get on board and start pulling people out. It was going to be more of a retrieval than a rescue, and they all knew it. The tone was somber, tense. But Lucy had someone she needed to find, someone in particular that she knew—despite what she had seen—was alive.
“Donato!” Lucy snapped to attention as the leader addressed her.
“Sir.”
“You’re with the boarding team. Set suited up.”
“Uh, sir,” Lucy started. “I actually was hoping to be on the ground search.”
The commanders brow furrowed. “Really? I heard you were more…hands on.”
“Usually. But—”
“But you’re looking for someone.” The commanders voice had a tone of disapproval. It prickled at Lucy, but she understood. In their line of work, personal meant trouble. She pursed her lips.
“Yes, sir.”
“I was worried about that when they told me you came all the way up here from LA. Who is it? A relative, a boyfriend?”
“It’s, uh…” That question was complicated, wasn’t it? The easy answer would be to say Eddie was a friend. He was, she supposed. But the truth was she hardly knew him. Their paths hadn’t exactly crossed much when she was standing in for him at work. Still, she trusted him, trusted his gut. But she wasn’t here because of Eddie, not really. She was here because Evan Buckley had an annoying habit of burrowing his way into people’s hearts. She cared about him. And he cared about Eddie. She wasn’t sure even Buck knew just how much he cared. Buck couldn’t be here, so Lucy was. “He’s important to someone I love.”
The commander sighed, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw. He eyed Lucy carefully, scrutinizing her. “I’ve heard good things about you, Donato. Don’t let me down.”
Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, sir. I won’t.”
~~~
Time passed. How much, Eddie couldn’t be sure. The sun had shifted its position in the sky, bearing down on Eddie where he lay, supine, in the mud. He ached all over, though the pain had dulled to background noise. That concerned Eddie. Blood loss made things easier, made the sharp edges of pain dull, made you tired. Eddie couldn’t be tired. He had to stay awake. Every time his eyelids felt too heavy, or when it seemed easier to let exhaustion take over, the voices of the two people he loved most in the world came to him.
He clung to those voices, to the words that they whispered to him. Encouragement, kindness, hope.
The mud felt tight against his skin, sun-dried like plaster, encasing him. He couldn’t move, not more than the heave of his chest as he took shallow breaths. Even if he could, the tree branch in his abdomen had other plans for him. All he could do was wait and try to stay alive.
Just hang on, the voices said. Hang on.
~~~
Lucy was with a small search group designated to the southeastern portion of the search grid. Besides her, there were two local firefighters—Bronson and Lang—and a ranger with the Parks Department named Jackie. They were close to where the plane had originally landed. When they’d passed by the crash site, Lucy had nearly been sick. The earth was going to be scarred for a long time in that spot: trees destroyed, the ground torn up by the plane drilling into it. What was worse was the number of bodies around the site. Mangled corpses of passengers who had been unlucky enough to fly from their seat in the crash littered the area, and that was hard to see, but not as hard as the ones that were burnt beyond recognition. No one at the site was alive. They walked a few hundred yards without seeing anyone. Finally, Jackie suggested they stop and fan out.
“I’ll go this way,” Lucy said, heading due east. That was the only inkling she had about Eddie’s location. No one argued, the other three splitting up and heading in separate directions. They each had a radio that was dialed in to the same line as all of the other rescue workers. Every once in a while, someone would call something in. Mostly, it was bad news. Sometimes, it was good. There were at least seven people on board that were alive, two awake and responsive, including the pilot. Maybe there was hope for more.
Maybe there was hope for Eddie Diaz.
~~~
His throat was dry. So dry. He had been this thirsty before, he knew. He just couldn’t remember when. It seemed like it was in a desert, which made sense. More sense than now, when he was soaked to the bone. He shouldn’t be so wet and so thirsty, it didn’t make sense.
Nothing made very much sense right now, Eddie thought. He was having trouble remembering where he was, why he was there. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Distantly, behind a wall of fog in his mind, he thought he was meant to be speaking to someone. To several someones. He didn’t actually want to do that, but it seemed better than this.
His eyelids flitted. They were heavy, so, so heavy.
Wake up, Dad, Christopher’s voice echoed in his ears. Eddie didn’t open his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Chris used to think it was funny, when Eddie pretended to sleep through his yells. He would do it on Christmas morning. His little boy would come into his room, shouting about Santa, and tug at his arms. He would pull off his blanket. Maybe that was why Eddie was so cold now. Chris must have taken his blanket. Sometimes, Eddie would reach out and scoop Chris up in his arms, squeezing the boy like a stuffed animal. Chris would giggle and giggle until Shannon woke up.
“Good morning, Eddie,” Shannon said. Eddie finally opened his eyes, looking over at his wife. His dead wife, he remembered.
Eddie wasn’t supposed to be here. Shannon couldn’t be. But she was.
With some effort, Eddie swallowed. “Hey.”
~~~
“Diaz!” Lucy called. “Diaz, where are you?”
It was probably pointless. Eddie might not be awake, not with the way that he’d been flung across the damn forest. It hadn’t exactly been gentle. But on the off-chance he was conscious, she yelled his name. If he could call back, it would make saving his sorry ass a hell of a lot easier. Or finding it, at least.
Climbing over fallen trees and trekking through a forest, Lucy would give anything to be back in LA. The landscape of the Washington forests made searches like this hard enough, and the shifting of that landscape from the mudslides made it even worse. The terrible thought that Eddie was buried somewhere, perhaps right beneath her feet, had occurred to her more than once, but she refused to believe it. If he was buried, he was dead. And if he was dead, she’d kill him. As she shook the thought from her head, she felt something.
Her hand was on her face instantly, wiping away the droplet of water that landed on her cheek. She stared at it in horror. A few seconds later, another. And then another.
“Is that…”, a voice called over the radio. “Is it raining?”
A second voice came over the radio. The commander in charge said, “All crews, listen up. We’ve got reports of a rainstorm coming in in the next few hours. Light rain is starting now. Our time just got cut in half.”
~~~
“You’re…you’re not supposed to be here.”
Shannon smiled sadly. “Neither are you.”
“But you’re…you’re—” Dead, he didn't say. She doesn’t look it. She looks like she’s alive, like she’s here. Eddie knew, deep down, that she wasn’t actually here—and how bad off he must be to be hallucinating his dead wife—but it was so hard not to believe it’s real. God, he wanted it to be real.
She was looking right at him, big blue eyes that bore into his soul. Eddie’s always been a sucker for blue eyes. He didn’t realize it until just now, but it’s true. Shannon’s eyes were staring at him and he was staring back, feeling dizzy beneath the fond look she gave him. He had missed her.
“But I’m dead?” She asked. “I know, Eddie. And I’m sorry.”
Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to cry. He couldn’t cry. He needed to save all the water in his body for more important things. “You’re not real.”
“I don’t exist, if that’s what you mean. But I’m real.” Eddie shook his head. “Look at me, Eddie.”
He didn’t want to, but he did. Shannon was laying beside him, like they’d woken up on Christmas morning in bed and not in the middle of a cold, wet forest, with blood and mud all around.
“Go away,” Eddie said. “I can’t do this. Please, leave.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not my decision. It’s never my decision, it’s yours.”
Eddie was shaking his head again, like he could shake her away. “No. I want you to go away.”
“Obviously not,” she scoffed and they sounded more like Eddie’s words than hers.
“Shannon, please.”
“You must want something, Eddie. So what is it?”
“I don’t—I don’t want anything, I don’t want you here. I don’t want you!”
Eddie was shouting. He couldn’t help it, even though the way he was thrashing about hurt like hell. But he was so unnerved by it all that he just wanted to crawl away. The damn tree wouldn’t let him.
“What do you want, Eddie?” Shannon asked, ignoring his frantic attempts to get away. “Do you want to die? Is that what you want?”
“Stop!” He cried.
“I can’t!” She yelled back. “You make the decisions for everybody, remember? Afghanistan, LA, El Paso, back to LA! You are running, Eddie. Always running, always deciding, never letting anyone else help. No, Eddie Diaz needs to make all the decisions or the world will fall apart!”
It was no use. She wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Eddie couldn’t get her to stop.
“Why do you always have to decide?” Shannon asked, her voice softer. Eddie looked at her then, saw the tears streaming down her face. He’d seen her cry so many times and he hated it. It made her eyes turn gray.
“I don’t know…” Eddie whispered, an unspoken admission to the thing she’d always accused him of. “I don’t know, Shannon.”
Her hand found his cheek, stroking away the stray tear that managed to escape. It wasn’t real, he reminded himself. It felt real.
“Oh, Eddie,” she sighed. He didn’t imagine the disappointment. Or maybe he did, since this was all in his head. Either way, disappointment was there. “You never wanted to marry me.”
“Yes, I did,” Eddie insisted.
“No,” she said. “You proposed because I was pregnant. Because it’s what you thought you were supposed to do.”
“I would have done it one day, with or without Chris.”
“Probably. But it’s not what you wanted.”
“What does that even mean?” Eddie’s head was spinning. He was always going to marry her, he never wanted to. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“You were my best friend, y’know.” Shannon didn’t answer his question, much to Eddie’s frustration. “I really loved you, and I think you loved me, too, but it wasn’t in the same way.”
“I did,” Eddie said. “I must have.”
Shannon laughed lightly. “We were just kids when we met. We were kids when we got pregnant and when we got married. Do you know why I asked for a divorce?”
“You wanted to find someone else,” Eddie said.
“I wanted you to find someone else.”
A hysterical laugh left Eddie at that. What a joke this all was. What a stupid, selfish, about-to-kick-it hallucination.
“You’re not even real!” Eddie yelled. “You’re saying what I think I want to hear.”
“Eddie, you knew me better than anyone in the world. So believe what I—you—I say.” Eddie scoffed, but she kept going. “I was setting you free. Free to see who you could have been if things had been different.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“You love him.”
Eddie stopped. There was a coppery taste in his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue when she said it. Shannon really hadn’t known that. Eddie hadn’t even known when she was alive so how could she? He didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
A raindrop smacked into his face. They passed through Shannon.
“Eddie, you loved me. You were my best friend and I was yours. You never did anything wrong, you just didn’t know,” she whispered, her fingers delicate on his jaw. “It’s okay that you want something else. I’m happy for you, really. You don’t need to keep feeling like you failed because you couldn’t love me the way I loved you.”
“I did fail,” Eddie’s voice came out as barely a whimper.
“No, baby. You didn’t. You wouldn’t say that about anyone else, so why you? Why you, huh?” Tears were spilling down Eddie’s face now. Or maybe it was the rain getting heavier. “It’s time for you to get over me. To move on. It doesn’t make you evil, and it doesn’t mean you failed.”
“I never got to say what I needed to say,” Eddie pleaded.
“But I knew. I knew, and it’s okay. We weren’t perfect, baby, but we loved each other and we made the most amazing, perfect kid. A kid you need to get back to, and you can’t do that if you let guilt bring you into the grave with me.”
“Shannon,” Eddie says. There is reverence in his voice. He never cared for all the religious stuff his parents and grandparents tried to pass on to him. He thought, for the longest time, that he just didn’t believe in any of it, though apparently he believed a little more than he thought. But whatever was happening now—it was hard not to call it a religious experience. Shannon was dead, but she was right in front of him, the sun behind her making her look luminous, like all the paintings of Mary he’d seen growing up. Forgiveness. That was what Shannon promised, and fuck, he wanted it. He wanted her forgiveness, her absolution, her understanding. He wanted it so badly he could taste it. “I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.” And despite it all, despite knowing she probably wasn’t real, her words felt true. “Now, you need to fight. You need to live.”
“I’m trying,” he said.
“They’re close, Eddie. They’re looking for you. Help them find you, baby. Make them.”
Shannon leaned over and kissed him. It was soft, quiet. Her mouth was familiar on his and though the kiss didn’t fill him with passion or lust, it was nice. An intimate kiss with a woman he loved, who loved him. A best friend he didn’t know he’d had and who he missed so bad it hurt. He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. In an instant, the kiss was over. He could feel Shannon’s warm breath on him lashes as she hovered there a moment.
“I love you. Please, be happy.” He wasn’t sure if she said it or he did.
When he opened his eyes, she was gone.
The rain was coming down now, the sun having slipped behind the clouds, like Shannon took it with her. Eddie could hear something in the distance. A rhythmic beating that was oh-so familiar.
“...help!” He tried but his voice was raw. He tried again. “Help!”
How close were they? The helicopter couldn’t be far, but it was no doubt with the plane. They wouldn’t hear his calls. Eddie had to move, had to make them find him. He tried to sit up, and a scream tore out of his throat. He couldn’t get up while he was attached to a tree.
The branch that was stuck in him was on the thin side, but still big enough to be concerning. He couldn’t slide himself off of it without bleeding out, but he had nothing to saw through the branch with. He only option was to try and break it. Eddie took a deep breath. This was going to hurt like a bitch.
“One. Two. Three!”
Eddie flung himself to the side, using all of his strength to tuck and roll to the left. He could hear the snap of the branch and the squish of his flesh being torn open even wider. The pain was blinding. Eddie had to blink again and again for several agonizing moments before his vision was more than a bright white blur. He rolled to his knees, hands planted firmly in the wet earth beneath him as he panted and gagged.
For the first time he was able to really take in his surroundings. He didn’t know how far from the plane’s original location he'd ended up, or how far the plane was now, but he suspected it was still within the regular search radius. The real issue was how the landside had changed the layout of the forest. Where he sat now was a natural depression, but he suspected that it was made deeper by the fallen trees and flowing mud surrounding it. He was hidden from sight to a passerby down there. He needed to climb out, but with a broken leg, broken ribs, and he suspected a dislocated shoulder, it was going to be next to impossible.
Well, Diaz, he thought. Better start climbing.
~~~
“Weather is too bad,” The commanders voice came through her radio. “Turn back and ready the survivors for transport.”
Lucy swore, looking up at the sky. For the last 20 or so minutes the rain had been gradually picking up, but she’d hope it was going to stay calm. It looked like she was wrong. She leaned into her radio and held the button down.
“Sir, there are still survivors—”
“No, Donato. Return to the helicopter. That’s an order.”
Lucy Donato was known for lots of things, depending on who you asked. Following orders was not one of them.
“Sorry, man. No can do,” she replied. Before she could get an earful, she clicked the radio off. She could always turn it back on when she found Eddie, and then it wouldn’t matter how pissed off the commander was.
She picked up her pace, calling out Eddie’s name as she went.
“Damn it, Diaz! Where are you?” Lucy yelled after a few minutes of fruitless searching.
She had to be about a ¾ of a mile from the plane’s original crash site. Diaz had to be close. Any further just didn’t make any logical sense. Maybe she’d missed him. Maybe he was back the other direction and she’d passed right by him, or maybe one of the other searchers had. Lucy was about to turn around when she heard it.
A groan—or more accurately, a cry—and it was close.
“Hello?” She called out. Lucy waited a few seconds for a response but none came. Had she imagined it?
Then it came again, louder, more agonized. It was the howl of someone in extreme pain, a noise she was intimately familiar with.
“Diaz! Eddie, is that you?” Lucy shouted at the top of her lungs. This time, a voice replied. A male voice. She couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded so familiar.
Lucy rushed toward the sound, stumbling over fallen branches and unearthed roots as she went. Still, she managed to keep her balance enough not to fall flat on her face or her ass, which she saw as a win. Diaz was close, so close. She could do this. She could get him out of here in time. She just had to hurry.
Lucy skidded to a stop just in time to prevent herself from falling down a huge hole in the earth. When she looked down, her heart sputtered. Eddie Diaz, in the flesh, or what was left of it.
“Diaz!” Lucy knelt down, leaning as far over the edge as she could safely manage. “You’re alive!”
“Do I…” Eddie started, but she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Donato?”
“The one and only.”
“Fuck, am I glad to see you.” Eddie grinned. There was blood on his teeth. Despite it, she smiled back.
“Likewise.”
Lucy flicked her radio back on. Instantly, a string of colorful reprimands spewed from the speaker. She didn’t care. She’d found him.
“I know, I know!” She said into the receiver. “I found the last survivor. We need transport out of here.”
“God dammit, Donato!” The commander replied. He let out a heavy sigh that sounded just terrible over the radio. “We’re on our way to you. Stay put.”
“Roger that,” Lucy replied.
Down below, Eddie was struggling to stay standing. To say he looked terrible was an understatement. Blood and mud covered most of him. There was a gash on his forehead that would need looking at, cuts and bruises all over his exposed skin. He had to be freezing, his shirt and jeans soaked from the rain. She could tell from here his leg was broken and his shoulder looked a little wonky. But worst of all was the giant piece of a tree limb stinking out of him. It was thrust right through his abdomen, and a deeply concerning amount of blood soaked the shirt around it. It was a miracle he was standing at all.
“Let’s get you out of there,” she said and he nodded weakly. Lucy had a small amount of rope, but the hole wasn’t too deep, so hopefully it would be enough to work with. She took one end and looped it around a sturdy looking tree. She used it to descend into the hole, landing on the soft earth next to Eddie.
The poor guy looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. It wasn’t easy getting him out with just the rope and herself to work with, but somehow they managed. She’d had to be careful not to touch the branch, not wanting to further open up the wound, which it appeared Eddie had already done. Oh well, she’d yell at him later. Or better yet, she’d tell Buck and watch him tear Eddie apart for it.
After getting Eddie out, she hoisted herself up. Above them, she could hear the helicopter. Eddie just need to hang on a little longer.
“Diaz. You doin’ okay?” Lucy asked. Eddie nodded, but he looked like he might puke. Which probably wasn’t a great idea, what with the big ass stick and all. “We’re almost out of here, man. Just hang on.”
The helicopter couldn’t land where they were, but there was a clearing about 50 yards off that it could. If Lucy could get Eddie there they’d be home free. She grabbed his arm and threw it over her shoulder. Supporting almost his full weight wasn’t easy, but she’d carried much heavier people to safety before. Rain pelted them as she half-dragged Eddie to the little clearing. The helicopter had already landed when she arrived. Firefighter Lang rushed from the chopper to help her carry Eddie. They worked quickly to get him inside the air-ambulance. The weather was getting worse and worse by the second. If they didn’t take off now, they didn’t take off at all.
“Let’s go!” Lucy said as soon as she had slammed the door shut. The pilot didn’t need to be told twice. Lang, as it turned out, was a paramedic. He was working on Eddie before Lucy even let go of him. Lucy herself was holding her breath until the helicopter was in the air and headed for the hospital. They’d already radioed ahead, told them to prep for all the survivors, including a massive transfusion and surgery for Eddie, who was somehow still conscious when Lucy sat down next to him. “Diaz?”
“What’re you…in Seattle?” He questioned.
“Looking for you, dumb ass,” Lucy replied, giving Eddie a playful pat on his good shoulder. It didn’t seem to clear up his confusion, his brow furrowing further. Then, all of the sudden, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and joy that Lucy couldn’t hope to understand.
“Buck…” He whispered.
Lucy nodded. “He’s gonna be real glad to see you.”
What looked like a smile ghosted across Eddie’s features, before being replaced with a look of anguish.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked, worried.
“...fucked it up…” He muttered. She could see the consciousness slipping from him as he tried desperately to hold onto it. “I—I…ruined it.”
“What’re you—ruined what?” Lucy asked. She didn’t want him to pass out. She worried he might not wake up again.
“Buck…” Eddie whimpered. “...gonna be mad.”
“What? Why?”
“Told him…” Eddie’s eyes were starting to roll back in his head. Lucy gripped his shoulder, shaking slightly.
“Told him what?” Not that it mattered. It might not even be true. Eddie was going into shock, so whatever he said was likely nonsense, or old news.
“Told him… I—that I…love ‘im.” So not old news.
Eddie’s eyes slipped close, and no matter what Lucy said, they stayed closed.
“How close are we?” Lucy demanded.
The pilot’s eyes flicked down to a watch, then back up. “ETA seventeen minutes.”
“Is he gonna last that long?” Lucy asked Lang. He was checking the IV he’d attached Eddie to, refusing to look at Lucy.
“He’s stable for now,” Lang replied.
“But is he gonna last.”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“He better.” Lucy said. It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t even really directed at Lang, and he knew it. Eddie Diaz had people to get back to and Lucy would make sure he did. He had to. Buck was waiting.
~~~
Eddie was getting pretty fucking tired of waking up in pain. Over the last 48 hours he had enough for a lifetime. Several lifetimes, in fact. But with the luck he had, Eddie figured he was in for quite a bit more.
On the bright side, he was no longer lost in the middle of a forest. Instead, he was laying in an uncomfortable hospital bed, sore but dry. The lights were dimmed in the room, which he was grateful for. His head hurt plenty without the fluorescents beating down on him, thank you very much. Eddie realized quickly that he didn’t know this place. Sure, all hospital rooms looked essentially the same—bland walls, blue and beige decor, standard issue beeping monitors and uncomfortable chairs—but this one wasn’t familiar. Eddie was practically a car-holding member at first-presbyterian back in LA; he’d recognize it blindfolded. Between himself, Buck, and the rest of the 118, they’d spent more than their fair share of time within the hospital walls.
Seattle, his mind provided. That was where he must be. Blinking away the last remnants of confusion and sleep, it all came flooding back to him. He wasn’t actually sure what day it was, how long exactly he’d been lost and even less sure how long he’d been in the hospital. Whatever painkillers they’d pumped him with were wearing off enough that Eddie felt mostly coherent now, and that made him antsy to get out. He attempted to sit up, but a firm hand found his shoulder and held him down. It was embarrassing how little effort it seemed to take.
“Woah, there, buddy,” a familiar voice greeted him. “Relax.”
“Lucy,” Eddie said, remembering the colleague who’d come to his rescue. “You’re still here.”
“Sure am,” she replied. “For a minute there, I was worried you wouldn’t be. You’ve been out since your surgery, and that was yesterday.”
So it had been close. Eddie wasn’t shocked by this news, but he was unsettled. Close calls were never good.
“So…” she said, rather unsubtly changing topics. “You wanna talk about it?”
Eddie frowned. “About…”
It came back to him like a flood, those last few moments on the helicopter before he’d slipped under the effects of bloodlessness. Heat flooded Eddie’s cheeks, turning them a shade of red that only exacerbated the embarrassment that Eddie was feeling. His hand flew up to cover his face, a futile attempt to hide his shame. He really hated that Lucy had seen his little breakdown, hated that she wanted to talk about it with him.
“No. No, I do not,” Eddie managed.
“Fair enough.” Lucy shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to, either. But just so you know, I really don’t think you ruined anything.”
“Thanks,” Eddie said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. If he failed or succeeded, Lucy didn’t let on. Instead, she walked around to Eddie’s bedside, grabbing a cup of water with a straw and offering it to him. He accepted it silently, chugging down the cool water until the cup was drained. It made him feel marginally better, the water. The IV in his arm had kept him hydrated, but being able to drink a glass of water on his own was a good first step.
Eddie took advantage of the quiet moment to take stock of himself. His right leg was in a cast, slightly elevated. His right arm was in a sling, a far too familiar feeling. He could feel the itchy bandages around his torso for the stab wound and some to keep the broken ribs in place. He went to run a hand through his hair, but paused when his fingers brushed against fresh stitches just above his left eye. Eddie sighed and let his hand fall to his side. He was exhausted already and he’d only just woken up.
“Have they…” Eddie found himself with a question on the tip of his tongue. “Does anyone know yet?”
Lucy shook her head. “I asked the hospital not to call. I wanted to wait until you woke up or—well, if you didn’t I figured they should hear it from someone they know.”
Eddie was grateful. Partly, because Lucy was right—they should hear it from a friend—but also because Eddie needed a moment. Even if it was just a minute, Eddie wanted to process what had just happened before he had to put on a brave face. Maybe that wasn’t fair of him, being happy that his family had to wait a little longer without knowing Eddie was alive. It was selfish and he knew it. Still, Eddie added it to the list of things he owed Lucy for.
“How long until I can go home?” Eddie asked.
“Not sure. I’ll find your doctor, she can explain more than me. And I’ll make some calls.”
Eddie nodded, and Lucy took that as her signal to leave the room. Once he was alone, Eddie felt his whole body sag into the bed. He wanted to scream, to get up and hit something. But he didn’t have the energy. Instead, he choked back a sob, part relief and part frustration. He thought of the things he had seen in the forest, of the revelations.
The universe doesn’t scream, he’d once said.
Eddie couldn’t have been more wrong.