#buck's worst nightmare is to lose christopher | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queerbuckleys · 2 years

Note

this is me asking very very nicely for you to pretty please share those snippets

<3 includes buck going off on his parents which would be 100% justified even without this little tweak in the universe and buck very much does not forgive them in this universe because of that. I started this like immediately post buck begins/ during the midseason hiatus and was like the first thing i sunk my teeth into in terms of writing. i was going through it at this time- so i put buck through it too. because at the time i was a buck girlie (gn) (rip to that era of my life). i personally do not have experience with losing a child but i have raw and trauma filled experiences with grief and losing someone too early so i channeled that in there and much of the pain that buck talks about is based on my own so yeah...

tw: discussions of infant death (specifically SIDS but not specified in the snippets)

“I had a daughter. She would have been 6 this year. Don’t look at me like that.” He clipped, looking in his parents direction through sharp eyes. “That's why I never told you because I knew you would just look through me and be disappointed, just another one of Evan’s screw-ups. But once I got to know her, in the short time we had, I knew you didn’t deserve to know. I know that especially now. You do not get to sit there and tell me what kind of pain you have been in because I know. I know what it’s like to lose a piece of your fucking soul and know that it was too soon. And at least you got to say goodbye.” he almost regretted saying that, but he pressed on.

“And my closest friends, my family, didn’t know about her until now, thanks for that by the way, this is not how I wanted to tell them.” The Buckleys flinched a little at the implications. His family on the other hand just grew even more protective over their youngest member as he kept baring his soul.

“ I never erased her, I never made anyone lie about her. I never lied about her. I think about her everyday, I talk to her mom when I can. And furthermore you do not get to sit there and tell me about what I went through with Christopher. I had to look in my best friend's eyes, fully believing that I was about to tell him that his worst nightmare had come true, and that it was my fault. I thank god every single fucking day that Eddie doesn’t know this pain.” He realized that his train of thought had wandered to Eddie as it usually did, especially when he was in need of comfort. He glanced in the older man’s direction and caught the mixture of shock, confusion and empathy that radiated off of his best friend. He took a deep breath to get himself back on track, “And I do love Christopher as a son. And losing Ava has never got in the way of that, if anything it has made what I have with Chris that much more precious to me, and that’s how I know that you messed up. That’s how I can call bullshit on your excuses. That’s why I won’t sit here and let you diminish my love for Chris, or dismiss my experiences when you never even bothered to be here for me at all. I will sympathize with your grief, but you have other children who needed you. I will never forgive you for looking straight through me, for not loving me. Be there for Maddie. But don’t try and be there for me now. That ship sailed a long time ago. I thought I might be ready to finally reconcile with you over how you have treated me my entire life and for some reason give you a chance. But I can’t, not now.” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and he began to lose momentum as he reached the end of what he wanted to say.

---this takes place later after shift in the loft---

“Will you tell me about her?” Eddie asked after nearly 5 minutes.

“I can show you pictures. Let’s go to the couch,” his voice and demeanor were much more Buck-like now.

Eddie made his way to the living room area and sat down.

Buck reached onto one of the bookshelves below the tv and produced a small chest like box and sat down next to Eddie and handed it to him.

Eddie gingerly opened the box and inside rested a soft pink photo album, a tiny hospital bracelet, the tiniest baby hat he had ever seen, and one bootie. “Ava” was painted in a beautiful purple script on the inside of the top.

“Her mom has the other one, she wore them home from the hospital.” Buck said, pointing at the tiny bootie. He picked up the photo album and handed it to Eddie.

The First page read “Ava Rose Warren-Buckley August 19, 2015 - December 21, 2015”

“Is that why you got the rose on your chest?” Eddie asked, referencing the rose tattoo that was placed over his heart that he had seen in the locker room.

“Yeah. We both got one. We wanted to give her shorter names cause our last names were so long,” Buck said as he watched Eddie read the page.

Eddie ran a thumb over the words and nodded his head. He turned the page.

The first few pages were filled with ultrasound captures and pictures of a pregnant woman, she had long red hair that fell around her shoulders in curls, and a smile that nearly rivaled Buck’s in brightness. Buck was in a couple as well kissing her cheek or smiling. Both were so filled youth, the glow radiating from them.

“Thea,” Buck supplied her name, “We were so happy, we were gonna get married once Ava got a little older. I kinda can’t believe I was even thinking about marriage that young, but at the time it felt right.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, “You said that you didn’t know for awhile?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his neck anxiously, “I was sort of traveling the country after being kicked out of college and running from my parents. I landed in [place] and i guess there was something about it cause it was the first place that i actually made some friends and Thea and I were more like friends with benefits at first. You know how your twenties are,” Eddie shook his head, “right, uh, anyway one second she was talking to me every day, the next she disappeared. Her leaving made me realize that I loved her, still do in some way, but I wanted to give her the space she needed and then she showed up at my door, it’s kind of a miracle I was still living the same place at that point, a few months later, pregnant, and it was easy. So we settled down. We were so happy.”

“I can see that.” Eddie’s own self hatred and guilt bubbled low under the surface. He had stolen that from Shannon and Christopher. Had stolen it from himself.

The next few pages were of Ava in the NICU. The one that stood out to Eddie was one of Buck, who looked different, older, than the previous pages, exhausted- his mop of curls somewhat unwieldy, worry lines etched in his forehead, bags under his eyes, sitting shirtless in a hospital chair with a tiny baby in his arms, wires trailing off her connected to a machine just out of frame. Buck wasn’t looking at the camera. He only had eyes for Ava. Eddie would recognize that look anywhere, it was the same way Buck looked at Chris.

There were pictures of the little family arriving home, the parents looking exhausted but relieved and happy.

There was a classic shot of Buck holding Ava, looking at the camera helplessly, while Ava had her face scrunched up and bright red, clearly letting out a piercing scream.

Another classic shot of Buck passed out on a bed with Ava knocked out in his chest, his arms around her protectively.

There were photos in every permutation of the 3 family members, demonstrating how happy and content they were.

The last picture was of both Buck and Thea on a bed, Ava between them, smiling, both of them staring at her with so much love.

And that’s where it ended.

Eddie looked over at Buck, who was fiddling with his watch.

“We still loved each other, but we just couldn’t go on without her. Losing her, it broke both of us, changed us so much that we knew that we could never truly be happy together after that.” He said, taking off his watch, “So I traveled a little more and then landed out here. And I got this just before I started at the fire academy.” He showed Eddie his wrist where he had a tattoo that Eddie had never seen before, “Ava” in a neat cursive script. “Once Chimney saw it, and offered a tattoo removal place he had heard about, thinking it was an old girlfriend. I just left the locker room. I felt really bad about that. But I had just met them, they weren’t my family yet. They still saw me as this young reckless kid who slept around and made mistakes. Which almost felt freeing. So I played into it to make myself feel better. And I guess, until today, none of the opportunities I had felt right.”

“You know, being a dad really looks good on you.” Eddie paused, glanced at Buck who was focused on his wrist, his thumb brushing over the letters, “Would you do it again? Could You?”

“Depends on the person.” Buck replied, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“What about with me?” Eddie supplied, almost surprising himself with the question.

Buck’s eyes snap up instantly, meeting Eddie’s for the first time all day.

“In a heartbeat.” he replied softly, but with a force of love behind each word.

---and buck telling maddie---

“So, first off, I want to say that I forgive you for keeping Daniel a secret. I really do understand how that sort of thing gets pushed for a better time. I just, can you promise to forgive me too?”

Maddie’s face is filled with concern and questions, “Okay. I promise.” She replies and holds out her pinky. Buck smiles a little and links his pinky in hers. He takes a deep breath, clears his throat a little, and reaches into his pocket. Unsure of how to begin his story without riding a high of adrenaline or in a therapist's office, he hands a picture to Maddie. It’s a bit worn from its home in his pants pocket or gym bag. But the image is clear. It’s a picture of a young Buck holding a tiny bundle of blankets, tiny face peeking out. Hospital bracelet still around his wrist, and harried look still etching his face

“Buck? Who...”

“I wanted to tell you. I actually did. But I think Doug got to those letters before you did. And then when you came here, I wanted to tell you, but then Doug showed up, and there were too many natural disasters, and I was crushed by a ladder truck, and then Eddie almost died, then to top it all off there’s a pandemic, and you were pregnant. And scared. There never seemed to be time. But then-”

“Daniel.”

“And I felt like such a hypocrite. That and Mom and Dad showed up at the station and I kinda exploded on them. So Chimney already knows and well, he's kept his share of secrets.”

Maddie didn’t need Buck to say the words, she knew, “The baby is-”

“My daughter.”

“And she….”

Buck just looked at her, finally letting the pain reach his eyes for the first time in years. He expected a look of pity and hurt from Maddie. But she was looking at him. Really seeing him.

“Of course I forgive you. I know I said I would, but-”

“Thank you.” and Buck could breathe again. "Can you tell me about him?"

#ask aj and they answer #goldenretrieverfirefighters #tals 🐶🚒#anyway #yeah #there is one more snippet i could share..maybe #but its kinda a lot cause it would be the actual story of losing her which while brief is v heavy

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halinski · 2 years

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For my beloved @outrunningthedark bc iight have a bit of a crush on her and bc she keeps me sane in this fandom. T, i want you know I've barely written anyhing beside the one sterek challenge with a group for the last 5 months so thank you for being my muse -- sorry it's not proofread or anything

Buddie • knuckle kiss • breakdown scene from the 5b promo • ~2k word count

He knew before he even opened the door. Maybe itbwas the subliminal space he just entered, proximity to Eddie had always had an anchoring effect on him. While the world whirled around him in stark colored monsoons, Eddie was the eye of the storm. Steady, calm, centered. Buck had clear view of him always- well, he does get torn back into the vicious currents every now and then, loses sight of up and down and everything important. Nonetheless he always finds his way back. To the Diaz house, Chris' room, Eddie's side. And the world was right again.

Might be that, that clued him in to the secondary storm that awaited within but it's probably the tone of the text he received from Eddie half an hour ago.

/ Could you pick up Christopher from abuelas tomorrow /

A question with just one obvious answer, (a simple /Of course!/) and therefore not a real question at all, but the missing punctuation was untypical. Eddie despised text speak. In fact, he always called about the important things, as for example anything about Christopher. It jump started his heart into overdrive, alarm in his veins before he could even reasonably explain it. But Buck knew.

Knew there was something at least. Not quite exactly what, because Eddie had hid panic attacks from him in the recent past. Hidden just because Buck hadn't been around as much, which only made sense if girlfriends were around, but still felt like someone had drilled a well of failure back in through his chest. He should have been there.

But there would be no stopping him now. No /it's not my place, i shouldn't intrude/ or /I'm not needed/. Eddie never called for help for himself. He made sure Christopher was taken care of if he couldn't and he didn't like making waves, being obvious. That's why he was asking Buck to take the boy, not asking abuela for another day. And he'd accepted Buck's persistence, asked him to step in if he couldn't, thinly veiled by the premise of /just in case he died on the job/ and here he had gone and quit it - possibly signaling that he didn't need Buck anymore - but Buck had promised he would never not be there again. Since the stupid lawsuit, since the shooting, always, always, no matter the circumstances. As long as Eddie would have him.

And here Eddie was, asking for him. Buck was immediately canceling on his plans for the next day with a quick text to Taylor and jumping into his car. On his way and enduring traffic without much of a bother because he had only one thought.

Eddie was in trouble. He would never willingly give his kid off to someone else unless there was something he could do about it. Something was very wrong. At the very least, a panic attack. At the worst... Only heaven knew because he wasn't answering Buck's calls or texting back. Eddie never ghosted Buck so suddenly, again, without good reason. He could be in hospital again, who knew. The universe seemed hell bent on hurting Eddie, and well, Buck barely saw him anymore, not during his shifts, only when they were both off duty and Eddie invited him over. As good as never if you asked the anxiety that made Buck's skin crawl s all hours of the day and night, even when Eddie was sleeping (because what he wasn't? what if he was also having nightmares like Buck had?)

As Buck turned the key in the Diaz's front door and stepped through, he embarked into a known front flooded by a chaos he didn't know how to confront, much less control. Yet, there was no hesitation. He followed the invisible tether straight in, shoes toed off behind a door that may or may not have closed behind him, keys possibly dropped off on the counter, possibly in his jacket pocket. It didn't matter. He found himself sinking right at Eddie's side, knees hitting the carpet between couch and coffee table.

Everything about the scene was new, Eddie -sobbing, desparate for breath as he shook his head, bloody knuckles weakly wrapped around a baseball bat, looking more lost than Buck had ever seen him. More than that split second where Buck had told him he lost Christopher in a tsunami wave, more than the time when he'd been shot and bleeding out beneath Buck's hands, than the fight in the supermarket, than Shannon's death, more than bruised up ribs and how Eddie had clung to Buck's easy emotional facade when Buck saw right through his struggles in therapy. There was a weight to the way his shoulders hung, chin shuddering and eyes unfocused, red and streaming, a helplessness that was gut wrenching, and Buck didn't know where to start.

"I can't. I-I can't, it's all jus'... I can't," came the wet pleas from Eddie's bitten, tortured lips.

"Hey," Buck tried to alert his friend to his presence but his own voice broke, barely a scared whisper, foam atop a ripple, useless amongst the raging waves that were beating relentleasly against the ship wreck. He had to get it together, blink away his teary fear and be the anchor for Eddie this time around. He wasn't a powerless 10 year old watching his sister be stolen away without any attempt of rescue from his parents. Hadn't been that person for a long time. He had his flaws, but rock bottom and misery were a setting he had mastered, had practiced his escapes and if anything he could make himself comfortable in the darkness alongside him.

"Hey! Hey, Eddie," Buck tried louder, this time pouring his resolve into every syllable. The same way he'd crawled under that fire truck, single handedly pulling Eddie out and into it, kept him holding on until the hospital. Buck knew well enought that there were many things he didn't know and couldn't predict. It's why he liked to memorize facts he could rely on to navigate his way out.

He didn't know where the blood came from yet, nor the wet smears on Eddie's shirt. Nor what had triggered the crash, if Eddie was in physical pain or if it was 'just' another panic attack, one strong enought to barrel over the strongest man Buck knew.

But he knew the strength Eddie poured into him with every small acknowledgement and touch, the way Eddie could steady his soul with a few direct words, sealing them with a warm brown gaze that felt like home. Buck remembered every grip of his hand, palm in palm or on the crook of his neck, bracing his shoulder- just, holding.

Buck knew Eddie relied on him too.

"Eddie, look at me. I'm here. I'm right here." Buck leaned forward, searched to find the man he knew in flooded eyes but was met by a shield, left to hover a mere inch away, his target unreachable. His hands itched but he didn't dare reach out, not yet, for fear of escalating Eddie's occurring nightmare.

Still, Eddie quivered, head shaking /no/ repeatedly, mouthing incoherently except for the quietly sobbed 'I cant's, rough like they'd been torn straight from the fabric of Eddie's core by jagged claws. He moved, just barely, but in abrupt quakes, the bat tilting, alerting Buck once again to its presence and to the solution. Buck grabbed the middle of it, right above Eddie's knees, breathing just a little easier at the conbection, albeit through a conduit.

"I got you."

And Eddie's eyes still scrounged the air before him for purchase blindly. Buck just wanted to grab his face and make him see.

"I'm here now. I got you. It's okay. You hear me, Eddie?"

Buck tugged a little at the bat, hoping both to remove it and to slowly inch his way into Eddie's space, make his presence physically known.

"I'm here now. You can let go. I got you."

"I can't, Buck," Eddie coughed out, strangled and heavy, like a whale beached and heaving. And yet Buck had never been happier to hear his name spoken. "It's all... I just- i mean, look."

He gestured all around them, spread his fingers to present his damaged hand, shrugged as he held up the bat, and returned into the former position, elbows locking into place.

"I try and try and I," Eddie wept on, the dam at least leaking a bit now. "And I can't. I can't do it. I always fuck up. I'm, I'm a mess."

Buck kept a firm grip on the bat, angling it away from Eddie as he let him talk. Words could be a miraculous thing, the end of the world or the only remaining tether, and he hated how dry his throat felt.

"You're not. Trust me, you-"

"Look at me! I'm a mess. I can't get it right. I just can't."

"Eddie, I promise you. You... Might be a mess. But who isn't? You're doing so good. You're doing everything right, okay?"

But he was shaking his head vehemently, knuckles only tightening on the handle. Buck had to persist.

"No, Eddie, listen to me. Listen. You're doing everything right. You just, you have to take care of yourself, too. Even Bobby has to ask for help sometimes." Buck carefullt slid his hand up, just half an inch under Eddie's, holding his breath.

"You might be a mess but that's okay. I'm right here with you. We'll figure it out, okay? I got your back, remember?"

And the tears still pearled down reddened cheeks, soft whimpers falling every time Eddie's lips quivered open for breath, but the winds seemed to lessen. Just a tiny bit.

"You just have to let me," Buck said.

Eddie breathed in deep once, and coughed wetly.

"I got you. You can let go."

Buck dared to make contact now, sliding his fingers over Eddie's lightly, coaxing them patiently from the wooden weapon, until he freed it frok his grasp and stowed it away beneath the table, while never letting go of the shaking hand.

"I'm not going anywhere. Promised that to the both of you."

He held on to Eddie's hand, finding the blood on his knuckles to have already dried, and tried not to worry too much about it until he'd stabilized Eddie emotionally, although he was already recounting the steps from here to the bathroom counter where rhe rirst aid kit sat and if they actually had everything they needed inside it. Eddie had minutely sunken back into the couch cushions, still sniffling and crying, now starting to shake from exhaistion probably, but slowly finding solid ground again. He breathed a long shuddering sigh, throat rasping like he was looking for something to say, unease marking his features as if he was about to apologize and this time it was Buck who shook his head.

To make his point clear, he lifted the so carefully cradled knuckles in his palm and pressed his lips to the cracked skin. Finally Eddie met his eyes with a bewildered gasp and Buck waited patiently for the turmoil within the other man to settle, thumb brushing over his tired fingers and just repeating, "I got you."

#🤷#i wrote this #i did it #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #for T #outrunningthedark #knuckle kiss #fanfic #911onfox

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hermiione · 3 years

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spotlight on me and I'm ready to break

(season 5 speculations, pre-relationship, and cannot stress this enough, spoilers)

ao3 link

Honestly, this isn’t even the most ridiculous thing he’s seen in his life, but it’s high up there on the list.

Wolves? Check.

Camels? Okay.

Fucking emus? Cool.

What is even his life anymore?

And that’s not counting Buck in his cut off shirts and suspenders.

Eddie should have seen this coming.

L.A is in the middle of one of the worst heat waves in the last 20 something years and they’re all firefighters, so they can’t exactly hang out by the pool and cool down like the rest of the city. They have to make do with the air con blasting and bottles of icy cold water pressed against bare skin in the fire station but when they are out on a call in the middle of the L.A streets? That’s when all bets come off.

Hence, Buck in his ridiculous tight tank tops that show off his biceps obscenely.

Eddie’s not the only one staring. He can see many a bystander ogling Buck’s arms none too subtly and he resists the ridiculous urge to stomp over to the blond and make him put on his turnout jacket.

Because, one, as mentioned before, they’re in the middle of one of the worst heat waves in LA history.

And two, Eddie has no claim over Buck. He doesn’t get to be possessive or angry. They’re not together, as much as Eddie might wish otherwise.

Buck has Taylor now, which...Eddie is fine with, honestly. Buck can be with whoever he wants, and he had pined after Taylor Kelly long enough. Just because Eddie hadn't lasted with Ana doesn't mean Buck has to be miserable too.

Not that Eddie was miserable when he ended things with Ana. It had been a long time coming. Things had been nice with Ana, but it had never made his heart race, or made his palms sweaty, or made him lose his goddamn sleep. It's always easy to mistake nice for right. So, it had come as no surprise when his relationship with Ana fizzled out soon after the incident.

Even now, Eddie thinks of that day as the incident.

The incident where you were shot, Eddie’s mind sometimes whispers, and you were bleeding out in a L.A street staring at your best friend.

Eddie always shies away from the thought rather quickly and tells his mind firmly to shut up.

Turns out, it’s not easy or fair to be in a relationship with someone when you’re in love with someone else. And wasn’t that a shocker? Realizing you’re in love with your best friend when the last thing you wanted to see before your death was his face and then wanting his face to be the first thing you see after waking up when you thought you never would - that tends to change your perspective on life.

So, yes, he broke up with Ana barely two weeks after coming home. He didn’t tell Buck for two more weeks.

He had thought of telling him at the most inopportune of moments. He’d thought of telling him when Buck smoothed back his hair after a hard PT session. He’d thought of telling him when he was watching Buck help Christopher with his homework. He’d thought of telling him while watching him do the dishes after dinner. And he’d thought of nothing but telling him after waking up from a nightmare and resisting the urge to walk over to the couch where Buck was sleeping and climbing in with him.

Because...Buck would inevitably ask him why. And that’s a question Eddie isn’t willing to answer on the best of his days. At least, not out loud.

Besides, Buck has Taylor. Eddie can’t fuck that up for him. He’d already wasted so much of his time taking care of Eddie when he could have spent that time with his girlfriend. As much as Eddie resented himself for it, a part of him was selfishly glad because Buck chose him. Buck chose him and Christopher over his girlfriend and everything else.

And Eddie’s not even remotely close to being okay enough to have that conversation with Buck. He still wakes up drenched in sweat, swallowing back his screams. He still flinches when a car backfires or he sees a glint of metal out of the corner of his eyes. He still sees Buck’s face spattered with red, his eyes frozen in shock. It’s not something you can get over easily. But Buck doesn’t need to know that.

Buck has enough on his plate without Eddie adding to it.

So, Eddie had sent Buck home three months after coming home. Buck has a life, and Eddie’s interrupted enough as it is. Buck went, protesting the whole way, and promising to be back every day to help. He’d kept his promise.

Eddie doesn’t ask about Taylor anymore. He doesn’t want to know how Buck is coping with having a new relationship when he spends every day at Eddie’s house. It's fun, and Eddie gets to pretend that Buck is his. He gets to have Buck on and off the job. Everyone wins.

Which brings them back here, in a L.A street, chasing escaped zoo animals and decidedly not ogling Buck’s arms.

Because, arms.

And Eddie still hasn’t forgotten how Buck had picked him up and thrown him over his shoulders easily when he’d been hurt and bleeding out. And he can't spiral down that rabbit hole again so he shuts that down firmly and quickly with relative success.

But Buck's arms look obscenely huge and they are glistening with sweat. Eddie can sort of sympathize with the people staring.

“You’re drooling,” Hen says drily.

Eddie didn’t even hear her approach. He wipes the back of his palm against his chin hastily before freezing, looking at Hen with wide eyes.

Hen just laughs at him. “Go help your boy,” she tells him, pointing with her chin at where Buck is looking around the streets with a confusion that seems particularly suited to this day. “He’s probably trying to figure out where the next animal is. Go help him.”

And Eddie does, because he may not be able to talk to Buck about his heart, but he can certainly help him wrangle some stupid animals.

His panic can wait another day.

#911 #911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fics #s5 speculation #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #evan buckley #idk who to tag in fics lol #my writing #sapph writes #arm #i love arm and so does Eddie

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extasiswings · 3 years

Note

soothing kisses or kisses for comfort a bitch is YEARNING tonight

Soft Bitch Hours 24/7 over here...

Buck knows that Eddie has nightmares.

He hasn’t always known what they were about—the explanations came much later, in halting, low sentences, confessions breathed into the black of pre-dawn hours and absolution given in tangled limbs and gentle mouths and the slide of skin against skin—but he’s always known Eddie had them.

Eddie isn’t the only one.

Buck snaps awake, breathing fast. As the nightmare recedes, he can’t quite shake the phantom taste of seawater on his tongue, the echo of screaming his throat raw.

The ghost of tiny hands slipping out of his.

He shudders and his stomach rolls. Next to him, Eddie is asleep, burrowed in blankets. It would be easy to wake him up, Buck knows. Easy to curl into him and press kisses into his skin until he was awake enough to leech the chill from Buck’s bones.

Eddie wouldn’t mind. Buck knows that, too.

But that’s not really what he needs. Yet anyway.

Buck exhales shakily and quietly gets out of bed, grabbing Eddie’s sweatshirt off the floor where he had tossed it earlier in the night and pulling it on. He pads down the hall until he reaches the next door—and stops.

It’s stupid, is the thing—and no, he’s not going to change his mind on that no matter how many times Eddie or Dr. Copeland tell him it isn’t—but after a moment of arguing with himself, he turns the doorknob anyway.

Buck doesn’t go in the room. It’s enough to watch from the doorway, to count the space between Christopher’s even, peaceful breaths and remind himself that the worst-case scenarios his mind likes to throw at him in the middle of the night never came true. Christopher survived the tsunami, found his way back to Eddie, and Buck didn’t lose anything. Not a thing.

His eyes burn hot and he closes them for a moment, swallowing hard. He couldn’t say how long he stands there in the doorway, but eventually hands ghost his hips before a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first—he presses a kiss to Buck’s shoulder, then to Buck’s neck, and a third to the edge of his jaw, until Buck shivers and slumps back into the firm embrace, allowing himself to be caught, held. Anchored. Eddie’s chest is solid against his back, lips warm against his skin, and in front of them, across the room, Christopher is breathing.

In Buck’s head, the tide recedes.

“You okay?” Eddie asks finally, and Buck turns enough to catch his lips properly.

“Yeah.” He glances at Christopher one last time and reaches out to pull the door closed. “Let’s go back to bed.”

They don’t get more than a few steps down the hall though before Eddie presses him back against the wall, slipping his hands underneath the sweatshirt as he kisses him again. The slick slide of Eddie’s tongue against his chases away the last of the cold, and when Eddie pulls back, Buck can’t help but chase his lips.

“You know, if you keep stealing my shirts, you’re going to stretch them all out,” Eddie teases quietly as his thumb traces the waistband of Buck’s sweatpants.

Buck bites his lip against a grin.

“So take it off me then. Or buy bigger shirts.”

Eddie steals another kiss, bringing one hand up to cup Buck’s jaw before his eyes turn serious.

“I love you. You know that?”

Buck curls his fingers around Eddie’s hips and tugs him back in the direction of their bedroom.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

#chapel writes #prompt fill #buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #kiss prompts #tylerhunklin

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stydiaeverafter · 2 years

Text

Fighting for our reason

Summary: Eddie has dropped a bombshell on Buck's life, and he's not about to leave the words he feels unspoken any longer. Buck's ready to fight. Fight for his partner, fight for his love.

A/N: Hi everyone! This will be a two-chapter fic. It's full of *spoilers* from the last episode, so if you haven't seen it, consider this a friendly warning! This is the aftermath of the cliffhanger and where I'd like to see the show go when it returns. Enjoy!

Read on ao3

***

Chapter 1: The bombshell ____

"I have to make a change."

As Eddie says those words to the group, Buck holds his breath. They've been through so much this year, the last few, in fact, but Buck knows what Eddie will say next will be the worst of it.

And he's right..."I'm leaving the 118."

Buck feels as though he's going to pass out. It's the same horrific sort of shock he felt when he had watched Eddie getting shot right in front of him.

Except for this time, Buck has been the one to be shot—right through the heart.

"What do you mean?" Hen asks, breaking the silence. "You can't leave."

"I have to," Eddie states. He sounds certain as if it's a done deal. "For my son. For myself."

He's thought about this already, Buck realizes, how long? Buck isn't sure.

Buck secretly kicks himself. Why didn't he press Eddie more to know if he was alright? Why didn't Buck play his part in checking on Christopher? Why didn't he spend more time with the Diaz family like he used to?

He's been so wrapped up in trying to push his thoughts away from Maddie and Chim that Buck moved his entire focus on Taylor. Buck was scared of losing someone else, and now he is...the worst possible person, too.

Guilt inhabits him as the others speak, but Buck can't focus. He's in a wave of emotion, and he knows he's about to crack. So instead, Buck lets the ocean carry him away.

He can't help his eyes from filling with tears as he reflects on his first mission with Eddie. It was so long ago, but they had each other's back from that moment in the van and every single time afterward.

Buck always wanted to be at the top of the ladder in his career, but Eddie knocked him off that high stool, bringing him back to earth. He showed Buck another way. A brotherhood, a family, a bond more profound than anything he had ever known.

Christopher was the light, one that gave Buck strength. If Eddie left the 118, Buck knew it would be a matter of time before Eddie took Chris out of the equation as well. Hell, they'd probably move somewhere else. Somewhere far away from everything and everyone.

Slowly, Buck reaches for his heart, wondering if it's still there. He finds it hard to breathe, as if he's drowning beneath those waves that caught him in the riptide.

This feeling isn't Christmas, Buck thinks. This situation isn't real. This moment is a nightmare.

But he wakes up by that voice. One he has known for so long, one he has grown to love more than anything in this world. It's the one tethered to his best friend and the man Buck hides the truth from—his other half.

"Buck?

He looks up and meets Eddie's stare again. Why hasn't he spent every day telling Eddie he is in love with him? Instead, he carries on with Taylor as if it actually means something, which it doesn't. They're meant to be just friends, which Buck realized early on. Buck can't be with someone, not when he's in love with someone else.

Eddie narrows his perfect eyebrows and walks closer to Buck as he addresses him again. "Buck, are you okay?"

No.

He's not.

Buck's dying on the inside, and sure it shows up against his grief-ridden face.

Words won't form as Buck opens his mouth.

So badly, he wants to drop to Eddie's feet, begging him to stay and never to leave him. But instead, Buck simply states, "I thought we were a family..."

He doesn't wait to hear what Eddie has to say to that. Buck turns and takes off, leaving his broken heart covering the ground below him.

***

It's been an entire day, and Buck knows he's being dramatic, but he doesn't give a damn.

The 118 crew won't stop calling, especially Eddie. But what did the guy expect when he dropped a bomb like that on Buck?

Buck not only lost people in his past, but Maddie, Chim, and now Eddie? It's too much.

There's also the fact that Eddie isn't just some friend he works with—the guy means everything to Buck. He always has, and Buck knows he always will.

Earlier in the day, Buck had broken it off with Taylor. After Eddie had expressed these words, the emotions Buck felt put him over the edge. He realized what he wanted and who he didn't.

Taylor, bless her heart, wasn't even surprised. She had looked a bit relieved, as if she were thinking the same thing. They both agreed to remain friends, and she left. That was that.

However, Buck doesn't feel better, not because he made a mistake breaking up with Taylor, but because he can't differentiate which way is up anymore.

No, this has everything to do with Eddie.

Buck feels lost. He's beginning to realize that he has wasted so much time with Eddie. That's what suppressed feelings do to a person.

He wants to scream in his pillow, but instead, Buck throws his phone on the floor and hears a nice crack. Son of a bitch.

What is Eddie thinking? This job is who he is; he's the best of the best at saving lives, sacrificing himself for others.

Buck wishes he would've known Chris felt this fear for his dad. Of course, it makes sense after the guy got shot. Chris was a rock, an anchor. He was the one who lifted Buck when he had been crying in the young boy's arms. Chris was the one who had given Buck all the strength needed to carry on after the tsunami. He showed Buck the light in the darkness. Buck regrets not doing the same for him or Eddie.

He wants to forget all of it. Buck might as well drown in his misery. It is the holidays, after all.

In the kitchen, Buck flips on a light and grabs the whiskey. He starts to unscrew the lid—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Open the door right now, Buck!"

It's Eddie.

Of course, it's Eddie.

Why wouldn't it be Eddie?

The guy is here to rub salt in his fresh open wounds.

Why the hell not?

Buck swears under his breath and slowly walks to the door. As he unlocks it, a vision so beautifully appears before him. But oh, how this vision seems pissed.

"What?" Buck questions, even though he knows why Eddie is there or assumes to know anyway.

"What do you mean, what?" Eddie frowns and beelines his way around Buck. "What the hell, Buck."

Buck shuts the door, not wanting his neighbors listening. They're nosy enough. Walking back to the kitchen, he leans against the counter, folding his arms.

They sit in silence for a brief moment before Eddie asks, "Well?"

Buck shrugs, well aware he's being an ass but not caring much. That's what feeling broken does to a person.

How could Eddie want to leave him? After everything, they had been through together. He promised it wouldn't happen to them. Eddie was the one who told Buck that he was stuck with the 118 when he was thinking of a transfer.

Eddie's mouth falls open at Buck's stoic response looking hurt. Buck wants to take him into his arms, even though he's just as upset.

"So that's that, huh?" Eddie demands. "I tell you, I'm leaving the 118, and you just walk away. You ignore my phone calls and act like an asshole in response. What is your problem?"

Now anger vibrates in Buck's body, "Are you kidding me?" Glaring, he walks directly to Eddie. "You announce to everyone that you're leaving, just like that, and expect me to what, be okay with it?" Buck shakes his head quickly. "We were partners who supposedly 'would always have each other's back.' But poof! I guess that promise is gone now."

"Buck, c'mon."

"What?" Buck exclaims as he feels the emotion tickling his throat. "I want to know how I should react to this. You want me to say, 'good job, buddy. Good change. See you around a quarter-to-never.' "

Exhaling, Eddie closes his eyes, "It's for Chris, Buck. You should understand that better than anyone. Especially with what I've been through this year."

"Oh, now you want to address that? I've only tried, hmm, how many times to get you to open up to me?" Buck turns and grips the edge of the counter as he blinks away tears. "Guess we don't have the type of relationship I thought we did."

"I couldn't, Buck."

"Why the hell not?" Buck demands, swirling around.

"Because it's too damn hard!" Eddie screams, tears finally running down his handsome face. "It's too difficult, okay?"

Buck has never seen Eddie lose it like this; it shuts him up immediately. "What should I tell you, Buck? That I have nightmares almost every single night? That I dream about getting shot and leaving my son forever? Or how about the ones where someone comes and takes Chris? It's literally killing me."

Eddie wipes his face and moans. It's like a damn opening for the first time in months, and water rushes in. "Should I confess that I'm not okay, not at all? That I'm pretending to be for everyone but myself, just like I faked it with Ana until it became too hard to mask my non-existent feelings?" Buck realizes he's holding his breath and clenching his fists.

"Do I mention I feel broken inside? God, how can I?" Eddie paces around the kitchen and lifts his muscular arms. His beautiful brown eyes that are full of tears, meet Buck's gaze. " I see you're happy for the first time in so long. You're with someone you care about, and I hate that selfishly, that it makes me upset."

As Buck watches Eddie, Buck breathes in and out harshly. His mind spirals with thoughts and emotions.

First, his heart breaks at thinking of Eddie or Chris suffering. He would sacrifice it all to see them smile. Then he thinks about how broken Eddie appeared when dating Ana. But what lingers throughout these thoughts is finding out why dating Taylor made Eddie upset.

But Buck doesn't want to think of himself at this moment, "I'm sorry, Eddie. Truly. I didn't know, okay? I didn't know how much you were feeling. But we've always had each other to open up to—I wish I knew what changed."

Eddie sighs and looks at him again, "You yourself went through a lot; I didn't want to pile more onto what you were already dealing with."

"Our relationship is two-sided, man. That's why I'm here." The man in front of him shakes his head, and Buck grimaces, "There's more, isn't there?"

"Yeah, you said back there that you thought we were a family. I thought so, too, Buck. But you've stopped coming around." Buck's heart drops at the words, and his lip quivers with pain as Eddie presses further. "Christopher misses you, but I make up excuses. Just last week, you told him you were coming to play board games but didn't show." Shit. Buck forgot. He can't believe he forgot. He feels sick to his stomach. Eddie runs a hand through his already messy hair. "I guess I took it as a sign we were moving in different directions."

No. God, no. "Eddie...that's not what I wanted. What I want," Buck sighs out. "You and Christopher mean so much to me."

"Listen, it's clear that you want to focus on your relationship, and there's nothing wrong with that, Buck. But you said two-sided, and is it? Is it anymore?"

It kills Buck to admit to himself the truth, but Eddie is right. Buck was so afraid of failing at another relationship that he neglected the only one that truly mattered to him. "You asked me how you should respond when I told you I would leave? I guess I wanted to observe that for myself. I didn't know how you'd react, but when you took off, I guess I was surprised."

"It sucks you were surprised, Eds. But that's my fault, and I'm sorry, truly."

"I'm not trying to point fingers or put the blame on anyone—no one is at fault, Buck." Eddie walks up to him and puts an arm on Buck's shoulder; he can't ignore the feeling it brings to the surface. "I just want to explain that things have changed a bit, but that's life. And what's also changing is that I can't put my son through this type of worry anymore. I had no idea it was so bad. The kid is literally worried I won't be here next year—that I'll die at any moment. After already losing his mom, I can't do it to him, Buck, because I can't promise him that I won't get hurt. Not in our line of work, not with what I've already gone through."

Buck bites his lip but gazes deeply into Eddie's eyes, "You're right. Christopher doesn't need to worry about this. I wish I could help do something. I just don't want you to leave."

"I know. But a part of me also feels unstable with the trauma I've faced. I think I need to get a handle on this before I can truly do my job."

"So that's that then," Buck says, tears falling down his cheek.

Eddie reaches up and wipes them away, and Buck closes his eyes. "I'm not dying, Buck, that's the point. I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere."

"It won't be the same, though."

"I know, but maybe in some ways, it can be better."

"Maybe," Buck says as he opens his eyes. "Are you sad to go?"

"Of course," Eddie makes a face and replies. "Y'all have been more of a family to me than my own. And the fact that..." The guy's hand is still on Buck's cheek. It's warm, comforting, and a safety net, but Eddie lets it fall to his side.

"What? What were you going to say?"

Now Eddie's eyes fill with tears, "You're the best partner I've ever had in my life. I would stay just for you."

"Eddie..."

"It's important to me that you know this, okay? That you understand it."

Buck nods because he does, "I know. I feel the same way." He realizes their bodies have moved closer together.

"Good. Good. We'll always be a family, Buck." That's all Buck wants in the world, for Eddie and Christopher to be his. Eddie gives a small smile, "Just please, I'm begging you to help me be strong about this."

If Buck can do anything, he can do that. Buck wants to be the anchor for Eddie like Eddie has been for him time and again.

He takes Eddie into his arms, and Buck whispers into Eddie's ear, "I'll be whatever you need me to be."

Buck and Eddie stay like this for a long time, but it feels right. It feels safe. It's what they both need for the next chapter of their lives.

Whatever this change will bring, they'll take it on together because Buck isn't going anywhere. That's what happens when you're truly in love with someone.

And Buck will love Eddie for the rest of his life.

#buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 fic #tw: ptsd #angst with a hopeful ending #love #comfort #canon compliant #*my fic

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buckttommy · 2 years

Note

What if eddie hallucinates buck getting shot instad of him?? So it's him with the blood on his face and in his mouth

I don't know if it would be that specific, but I've been speculating about this for months. I made a post, I think it was at the beginning of 5A or around that time, talking about Eddie having a nightmare that encapsulates that sort of role reversal. Obviously, Eddie's journey is his own and there are a lot of suppressed feelings and traumas that could trigger the reaction we see from him. But losing Buck is extremely high on Eddie's list of fears, rivaled only by losing Christopher and probably his Abuela, so when it comes to hallucinations of the third worst thing that could ever happen to him.... Yeah, I can see that splitting him apart tbh. The complete helplessness of Buck being injured, compounded with the idea of not being able to save a person he loves, compounded with the insecurity Buck's death would bring with regard to Christopher and what would happen to him if Buck was suddenly no longer in the picture, compounded also with a nightmare image of that just painted right in front of him where he can't escape from it.... Soooo sexy. I'm not sure they will, but I kinda hope they go that route.

#jack answers mail #5b speculation

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wh0re-behavi0r · 2 years

Note

Buddie + 2 & 51 for the fic Mashup :D

2. Royal Au + 51. Accidentally Married

(I want to actually write a Royal au so bad)

Okay so.. This would be an AU where Daniel is alive and he's the oldest so he's meant to marry Eddie and strengthen the Buckley and Diaz kingdoms. Let's say Daniel runs away the week of the wedding and Buck has to take his place in the wedding. Eddie and Daniel have only corresponded by letters and haven't seen each other in person and just based on description alone, Daniel and Buck could be the same person.

So maybe something like this:

Buck can't keep the secret anymore. He didn't want to get married in the first place, but it was his chance to show his parents that he was worth something. Eddie is way kinder than he thought he'd be, whispering to him during the ceremony to ask if he was nervous. He repeated the prayer that was said over their marriage in Spanish and continued to explain the customs of their kingdom although Buck should have been learning this when he learned of their union.

He wondered if Eddie had begun to like him as quickly as Buck did. When they first locked eyes, Eddie has stolen Buck's breath away, as cliche as it sounds. They got along well and their ideas for the kingdom complemented so well. He strived to make Eddie smile, basking in the fact that he could. He liked being his husband and he still wanted to be if he could. Not just in name. He loved seeing Eddie with Chris and loved getting to know Chris. The young prince never failed to put a smile on his face and his compassion made Buck so fiercely protective of his innocence. A part of him longed to be a father to Christopher as well, but the union had only happened about a month ago. They had become confidantes in such a short time, able to communicate through thought and simple actions. Buck was terrified to lose that, but the knot that had formed in his stomach from the day he agreed to do this just couldn't be ignored anymore.

Every time Eddie calls him Daniel, it feels too familiar and entirely wrong at the same time. He should've been more like Daniel and now that every thinks he is, he no longer wants to be.

"Homesick?" He whipped his head around to see Eddie, closing the balcony door behind him. Buck had asked him to meet up here. They frequently had breakfast here, early morning or late night chats. Buck had hugged Eddie for the first time on a foggy morning with an intense chill in the air. He had woken up from a nightmare, sweating and mumbling something about Chris under his breath.

Buck shook his head and swallowed, preparing himself for the reaction. He suspected Eddie wouldn't throw him out of the castle, but who's to say that he wouldn't and the alliance would crumble and his parents would exile him, and worst of all, he'd lose the only family he had ever had (outside of his siblings, of course)?

"I have to tell you something." Eddie's brows furrowed and he came closer to Buck, a hand reached out to comfort. He flinched in response. He didn't deserve comfort. Eddie closes his hand, makes a fist, and sits down at the table instead.

"I'm not who you think I am." He barely utters the words and he's not sure where he got the courage to say it in the first place. There isn't a response so Buck continues.

"You were supposed to marry my older brother, Daniel. You didn't."

Eddie's eyes seem to recognize him now, even though that isn't possible. His fingers thrumb against the marble table, the thud dulled by the velvet cloth. "Now it makes sense why you didn't sound like your letters." The sentence is accompanied by a bittersweet smile, the joke falling flat.

"So who are you?"

Buck was the third child of the Buckley parents. He wasn't a successor of the Kingdom, he was a mistake. He was Daniel's shadow, and Daniel was somehow his. He was a charmer but inside he was deeply unsure of how to be of service to others when he was just Evan.

"I'm Buck." He wanted and be someone else, someone greater and worthy of Eddie's attention. He just hoped Eddie felt the same way.

#asks #my writing #royal au (maybe)#buddie #buddie fics #who would i be if i didnt have angst in my writing #my ao3 name is on the nose lololol #does this count as accidentally married? cuz like #buck did it on purpose but eddie didnt #idk i hope i satisfied the prompt #this was fun and nervewracking #thank you for the ask 🥰#is this dramatic #im writing out my thoughts as i write the prompt lmfao #i kind of wanted to cut it off at im not who you think i am #maybe ill write more eventually lol

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detectivecarlosreyes · 3 years

Text

Shots Fired, Firefighter Down.

Eddie was aware of everything and nothing.

In the back of his mind, some part of him registered the crack of a gunshot, but to associate it with the searing pain in his shoulder, he couldn’t comprehend it, not really.

Everything that followed felt like it was happening in slow motion and somehow happening in a split second.

It almost didn’t feel real.

He didn’t feel the pain and barely registered his body collapsing on the ground or feeling the side of his head landing in the hot wetness of his blood pooled beneath him.

Not at first.

Not until his mind caught up with the reality. He never thought he would ever be shot again; thought he had left that all behind when he left Afghanistan. And yet here he was, unable to move, unsure if this was just a dream, one of his worst nightmares come to life.

His eyes find Buck.

Eddie isn’t sure that they had left him really, but now he finds himself unable to look anywhere else. He could see the shock, the panic in Buck’s eyes, the spray of his blood across Buck’s face. And that’s what bring him back, at least enough to want to reach out to him, a desperate attempt reaching towards a place of comfort and safety. Pleading for him to save him from this moment, to ensure that Christopher doesn’t lose another parent.

He can feel himself fading. Finds his eyes closing of their own volition.

And he tries to fight it.

Fight for his son. Fight for his family. For himself.

Because he knows how this could be his end. And yet even he can’t fight the drooping of his eyelids forever, the inevitable state of unconsciousness that follows blood loss.

The last thing he sees is Buck.

And he hopes that somehow Buck will bring him back from the brink, bring him back to his son, save him when he can’t save himself.

And with that last thought, his eyes slide shut.

#jess writes #my fic #911 spoilers #911 fic #911 fox #911 4x13 #blood tw #gunshot tw #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

#buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #Eddie Begins #Evan Buckley #Eddie diaz #911 #buck x eddie

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they-reap-what-we-sow · 3 years

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The first night is the worst. As Buck is putting Christopher to sleep he runs his hands through Chris's hair but freezes when he sees a flash of red. Vivid images of Eddie falling to the ground, hair soaked in his own blood, cycle through his brain but when his hand shifts again Buck sees nothing but Christopher's golden curls.

As Buck is finishing up the dishes he digs his hand into the soapy water to look for any missed utensils and suddenly the sink is a pool of red. His hand comes out wet and soaked with the gory aftermath of a killing shot but as the blood drips off his hands it turns back into the soap and suds.

He goes to bed with the imprint of that puddle stamped on the inside of his eyes, searing itself into his brain and he doesn't think that he'll ever forget the slow, creeping, expansion of that terrifying pool of blood.

The next morning Buck is helping Christopher comb hair and get ready for school, promising him that Buck will take Christopher to see Eddie after he comes home. He looks into the mirror to brush his own hair straight but his face is splattered with red. The blood is nothing more than drops- the final evidence remaining of the moment where Buck nearly lost everything- but as Christopher tugs on his shirt, Buck blinks and the red goes away, leaving behind no more memory of that fateful second.

Buck has a harder time sleeping that night when Chris wakes up screaming from a nightmare about losing his dad. Afterwards, Buck can only think of the horrifying silence following the second after Eddie looked up at Buck, blood already draining from his body, from that hole, in his uniform, in his chest.

When Buck steps into the shower in the morning he looks down and sees his hands and body covered in Eddie's blood. Covered with the thing that should only be keeping Eddie alive. It's all over him and Buck sways where he stands, sure that there can't be nearly enough left in Eddie to keep him alive before the moment snaps and Buck remembers.

It doesn't get better until Eddie comes home and Buck can see for himself that whole and hale and there is no more red staining his skin. The nightmares stop coming and flashes of blood grow lesser and lesser until one day he forgets all together the feeling of red.

#911 show #911 on fox #eddie diaz #911 4x14 #evan buckley #christopher diaz #tw blood #911 fanfic #911 ficlet #krowabbey

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crowleying · 3 years

Text

Buddie

Cold Water - Major Lazer ft. Justin Bieber & MØ

"There is no one in this world I trust with my son more than you"

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because-i-am-barely-even-human · 3 years

Text

Not exactly crossover, just supernatural world of Teen Wolf exists in 9-1-1

118 + extended family knows about supernatural stuff

werewolf!Eddie, human!Buck, harbinger of death!Christopher, emissary!Maddie

Buck got possessed by the Nogitsune during the recovery from ladder truck accident. He was already emotionally vulnerable, everyone sort of forgot about him and were busy with their own lives to check on Buck. They didn’t see that he was spiraling. Well, Eddie did, but his idea of help missed its mark by a mile, meaning: shoving your kid on the friend who is clearly mentally straggling with trauma is not gonna magically cure the depression. Buck was barely holding on.

Then the tsunami happened and every bit of his fragile defenses was gone. Evan was in a dark place. At night, when the nightmares were at its worst, he was fighting against something. It was like screaming for help but nobody heard. Except someone did. Or rather something.

Buck started to notice that he was losing some time. At first it was a few hours, then it was days. Waking up in a strange places was a new level of terrifying. Trouble reading. Something was clearly wrong. Every time he tried to talk with someone about it he blanked out, then came to his senses in different place. It wasn’t safe anywhere.

One time he woke up with distinct and frankly disturbing urge to eviscerate Christopher’s English teacher, Ms Flores. He only met her once during parent-teacher conference, which neither Eddie nor Carla were able to attend. Buck wasn’t impressed with the attitude, something felt fake about her. Sure, he didn’t like her. But to this extent? Is it his own thoughts? Unclear.

Someone (something) was talking to him in his dreams (nightmares). Reaching out. Why is it smells like rot in here? Evan is sure he’s straight up losing his mind.

Maddie is worried about her brother. He is distancing himself. Her phone calls go to voicemail. He’s not home when she tries to visit. No one has any idea what Buck is doing these days, not like they actually asked. Maddie is angry with the team’s dismissal of her worries. Buck is just recovering, they say, he needs some time, Bobby says, he’ll come around, Hen softly assures, Buck's a big boy, Chimney laughs. Eddie, though, is silent.

The searching spell is not working on Buck. It’s like he’s not here. She doesn’t know what to think of it.

Eddie haven't seen Buck since the day after the tsunami. At first it was because he was busy with Christopher’s therapy and night terrors, then he just couldn’t catch him. It was like Buck was avoiding him. They talked on a phone, yes, usually when Christopher needed him, but that’s it. No physical signs of Buck. Maddie was worried too. And the scent around Buck’s place was weird… disturbing. A mixture of earth, dust and pain.

What’s going on?

Christopher started hearing things, not sure what that means.

Where the hell is Buck?

Maddie hadn’t seen him in days.

The school called. Ana Flores, Christopher’s English teacher is missing.

Someone called him at night. There was just breathing. No. Crying..?

Evan?

They need to find him.

If someone's interested in writing this, please tag me when you're done.

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Text

broken Tumblr asks part ??: in which I think I figured out that adding a read more into the asks are what breaks them.

anonymous asked:

the team makes Buck cry. send tweet.

hi anon I really am sorry if you were hoping for some hurt / comfort bc uh. this is just the hurt. xoxox

also my love, thanks, and eternal devotion to @buckleydiazs for giving it a quick beta 💖

Buck was on cloud fucking nine.

For a year—an entire year—he had been stuck in the doctors office, twice a month, while they ran test after test after his… multiple accidents. Blood tests, lung tests, flexibility tests, he had been poked like a pincushion and stretched like a rubber band, he had been through physical therapy, occupational therapy, and just regular therapy (hell, he was still in regular therapy), and now finally, finally, he was finished.

“So, you don’t show any signs of abnormal clotting and your risk for a second pulmonary embolism is low. As far as your ankle goes, but you’ve regained full mobility, and as much as I wish I could take all the credit for that, I know you’ve been working your ass off in therapy. Congratulations, Mr. Buckley.”

He was cleared. Fully out of the woods. Clean bill of health.

Finally, finally, after a year of hell, he could put everything—his crushed leg, his bleeding lungs, his stupid lawsuit—behind him. Finally, he could breathe easy, easier than he had in a year, and the only thing he wanted to do in the entire world was share the news with his family.

Normally, Maddie would have been first, but he always felt bad about tying up a dispatcher when he called her at work. Her shift ended in an hour or so, though—like his normally would have, if he didn’t have his schedule switched during doctor days.

Well, if he can’t tell his sister, he can still tell his family.

“Hey, Chim!”

Buck is all smiles as locks his Jeep, his medical release in hand, jogging easily to catch up to Chim’s retreating backside. Buck grinned as Chim turned around, raising his brow. “Hey, do you and Hen have a second? I wanted to show you both my—“

“Oooh, sorry, no can do Buckeroo. Hen’s taking her MCAT’s in two days, I have every second of her free time booked solid with studying.”

Buck faltered a little bit as they walked, raising his brow. While he really was proud of Chim for doing a full 180 so quickly—going from feeling betrayed to supporting a friend was no easy feat, and Buck knew that as well as anyone, but he also knew that a full day of studying wouldn’t do any good.

“Come on, Chim, I’m sure she can take a break to—“

“Noooo, Buck.”

“Chim.”

“Buck, seriously. She’s been working too hard for this, and I’m not having you break up her flow. This is important to her, you get that right?”

Of course Buck got it, but…

“I’m not going to let anyone ruin this for her.”

….ruin it? He just wanted to share some good news.

He understood that Hen had to study, and that her upcoming MCATS were really important to her, but this was important to Buck; and for Chim to jump straight to that degree made his heart sink a little bit with each beat, his head traitorously whispering to him ‘what if Chim is right?’. Hen had been one of his biggest supporters as he got off of blood thinners, as he started back into his various therapies, and he had thought he returned the favor, helping her study in his free time whenever he could, and helping her take her mind off of things when she needed to as well—maybe his distractions were more harm than good, but he knew Hen well enough to know that if no one pulled her away from her work, she just wouldn’t eat, sleep, go home, any of it. Was it really that bad that Buck wanted a minute?

He felt his smile start to slip so he hitched it back up, nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, I… okay, just hit me up when you’re all done, I guess?” He said, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. It must have worked, because Chim clapped both of his arms and turned away, leaving Buck standing there for a moment before he shook himself out of it.

It was fine. Hen wanted to study, that was important. Buck tried to pump himself back up as he took the stairs to the loft two at a time, reveling in the simple act of fully rolling his ankle. He tilted his head as he heard Bobby’s voice spill out of his office, turning on his heel to his next target. Besides, Bobby sounded frustrated—some good news would do him good, or so Buck thought.

“…no, I don’t—no, we can’t just take—wait, what? No, I will not hold!”

Buck almost laughed as he knocked on the Cap’s open door, smiling when Bobby waved him inside.

“Look, forgive me if I’m not entirely sympathetic, but when we’re down an engine, and you can’t tell us when repairs will be done—well then you’d better transfer me to someone who can!”

“Everything alright, Cap?” Buck couldn’t help but smile as Bobby strangled his phone, sighing in defeat when the plastic wouldn’t yield.

“You know, Marty was a crook in the end, but damn, he was a good mechanic. What’s up, Buck?”

Buck winced at the reminder of the nearly would-be heist, humming thoughtfully as he waved his full release forms. “Well, this shouldn’t take long. I got back from the doctors today, and—“

Bobby’s groan cut him off, hanging his head in his free hand. “No, Buck, no. I can’t have you sick right now, and nothing good ever follows ‘doctor’.”

Buck laughed, but Bobby kept going, the stress of the day and being down an engine clearly getting to him as he continued on. “And the last time I heard “doctor” from you, it was followed by lawsuit, which—yes, I’m still holding, hello?”

Lawsuit?

What the fuck?

Buck reeled back like he had been slapped, the smile frozen on his face even with Bobby’s clear dismissal. He was glad that he didn’t have to say anything else, at the very least, because his throat felt hot and tight and it was all he could do to stay steady as he pivoted on his heel, walking out of the office.

He hated the fact that that was the first thing Bobby brought up, but he hated even more how much that dark cloud was still lingering over his head. If Bobby would be so candid when Buck was barely two words in to saying something, who’s to say what choice words he had about Buck when he was gone?

The lawsuit was the worst part of his life, the biggest mistake he had made, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it being thrown in his face when he was ready to walk in and share what was the best news he had ever received. Is that… all he would have here, all he would have been able to look forward to?

He started back down the stairs, his legs acting independently of the rest of his body, a dull tingling spreading through his chest as he finally sat down. He didn’t know if there was a happy medium between cold and numb (‘shock’, his mind provided, ‘you’re in shock’), but whatever it was, he was deep into it.

God, he had honestly thought that was all behind him. How fucking stupid was he to think that he was going to be able to come back from a mistake that huge, even a year later?

“Buck?”

He could feel himself starting to panic—loathe as he was to admit it—but as per usual, Eddie was a step ahead of the game without even knowing it. Even now, just hearing Eddie take a few steps closer to him started to ease his heartbeat, and he swallowed a few times as he nodded, fighting off the headrush as he was able to breathe again.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

“Hey, Eddie, uh…hey!” Buck stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, paperwork forgotten next to him as he tried to smile. If anything, he knew—he knew to his very core, he knew, he… he prayed Eddie would be able to share this little victory with him. “Eds, you have a second to talk?“

Buck almost swallowed his tongue as the alarm sounded through the station, his jaw clicking shut as footsteps started to come down the stairs.

“Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Eddie called, already heading to his locker. It was all Buck could do to hold it together, nodding his head as he waved them off, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when the ladder pulled out of the station.

Eddie may have had a good start on his day, but Buck did not.

He had woken up, kissed Christopher goodbye as Carla brought him to school, and less than ten minutes later, he had a brown envelope in hand, with a curt “You’ve been served”.

Shannon’s will was being contested. The will that Eddie didn’t even know she had. By her father, who Eddie had only seen twice in several years of marriage.

The will was simple enough—a few grand left to Christopher’s college fund, a small pair of earrings to her sister, and that was it. There was nothing to contest, in Eddie’s mind, but contested it was.

He looked over the paperwork twice, and it made less sense the second time around—as much as he hated to admit it, the worst part of it all was knowing that Eddie was going to be alone at work again, because Buck had another day off scheduled in the books.

So yeah, he may have been a little grumpy as he threw a few weights around in the work room for the start of his shift.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Eddie was spiraling; he couldn’t understand how someone could be so bitter, so selfish, to try and stop a few thousand dollars from going into a college fund for their grandchild. His mood only soured as his shift went on, there were no distractions, no calls, nothing to help him pull his head out of his ass, and no one he could talk to. Chim had almost bitten his head off when he said hello to Hen that morning, Bobby was dealing with yet another broken down, tax funded nightmare, and Buck—

And Buck was here.

“Buck?”

Eddie did an honest to god double take as he saw Buck sitting on the bench, like he had been summoned from the depths of Eddie’s mind, even though he looked like he was in a state of shock.

“Hey, Buck, you good?”

He couldn’t lie, it made his heart skip a beat when Buck smiled at him—even if he could tell that Buck’s heart wasn’t in it.

Before he could say anything more, the alarm sounded through the house, and Eddie was about a step away from fully losing his mind. “Hey, we’ll talk later, yeah?” He said, trying to give a small smile as he started to double back to his locker.

The call, to put it mildly, had not gone well—any fire call where the main focus wasn’t the fire was bound to be troublesome. A ten year old had started a fire in a laundry room, which should have been simple enough, except it was the same laundry room that he and his brother had apparently been locked up on for months.

Suddenly what started out as a fire call turned into fire, medics, and police, and Eddie felt his hands start to shake as he worked with Hen to revive a ten year old boy. Barely older than Christopher. It wasn’t the first time he had seen abuse face to face, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last, but something about it was working him up more than usual. He was glad his shift was almost over—the only thing he wanted to do was go home, hug his kid, and sleep.

“—ooh, Mads, they’re back, gotta go. Hey, Eddie!”

He knew he was in deep when not even hearing Buck’s voice could brighten his mood—it was all he could do to hitch a half-hearted smile onto his face as he stepped off of the spare rig.

“Good call, right? Maddie said it sounded like everyone should pull through.”

Eddie just felt himself wind up tighter as he shook his head, rolling his jaw to force himself to keep it loose. “No, Buck. It was not a good call. It was a very bad call.” Bad didn’t even begin to cover it. Eddie could still feel his heart in his throat, feel a tiny body in his arms as Hen started compressions.

He was too wrapped in his own world to notice Buck falter, clearly thrown in the conversation. “Well, hey, if you’ve got a second—“

“Come on Buck, give it a break. I just want to get the fuck out of here as soon as I can.”

Pulling his boots off, he tossed them with perhaps a bit more force than needed into his locker, missing the way that Buck’s face shuttered. “You too, huh?”

“‘You too’? The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Eddie, I just wanted to share some good news, and—“

“Well things aren’t just good or bad, Buck! Just because no one died does not make a good call, and just because things are bad right now doesn’t mean I have to be cheered up. I’m allowed to be pissed off. I’m allowed to have one fucking minute!” Eddie snapped, chucking his jacket against the hamper in the corner, jaw clenched so hard he would have been afraid of cracking a tooth if he was in his right state of mind.

“So please, tell me what is so god damned important that I can’t see my kid until you tell me.”

The moment the words left his lips, he knew it was a mistake. The only person that loved Chris as much as Eddie was Buck, and he knew that, saw that more clearly than ever as his white hot anger dulled into something more manageable. He swallowed as he turned around, and… fuck, Buck wasn’t even looking at him.

“…Buck, I—“

“Clean bill of health.”

Buck couldn’t bring himself to look up up as he tossed the stack of papers onto the bench, doing his absolute best to keep himself composed as he spoke, his jaw tight and brow furled.

He had been so proud of himself for avoiding a panic attack while they were on the call. He had never gotten them before this past year, but between the earthquake, tsunami, Maddie’s kidnapping, and bomb, he had become fast friends with the crushing weight. But he had done well—he kept himself above water, so to speak, and when he called Maddie he was proud to say that his voice was almost steady, and prouder still when she congratulated him for his job well done in therapy, demanding he come over and celebrate tonight.

Well, even if he couldn’t count on his family friends team, he could always count on Maddie. It was a small joy in the world, but right now, it felt like it was all he had.

“Officially back to 100% mobility in my crushed ankle, officially out of the woods for another clot. Did you know it would take me a year to be clear of another embolism, because I refused blood thinners? Well, I figured you might, since you’re been running calls without me, every other week for a year, while I sit in a hospital room.”

Buck finally brought himself up to meet his teammates eye as Eddie’s frustration started to give way to confusion, and that, that hurt more than anything else today. Had anyone even realized why his schedule changed every other week? Did anyone care? “And alright, like you said, it might not be that important to you all but—“

“Buck, you—“

“But it’s really fucking important to me! All I wanted to do was share the good news with the people who are supposed to be family, my team, and instead all I got was blown off, snapped at—Eddie, I mentioned the word doctor in front of Bobby and his first concern was if he had another lawsuit on his hands.”

Buck was mildly aware that he was shaking—he had never really handled stress like this well—but the bigger concern was the tightening in his throat, that sinking pressure he felt right beneath his lungs. He could handle a lot of things, but that didn’t mean he could handle crying in front of Eddie quite yet.

“It’s been a year, Eddie, and I thought things were getting better, so what gives? What did I do, what have I done to deserve being treated like this? I’m serious, please, tell me, so I can fix it!”

Buck’s voice was reaching a fevered pitch as he gestured around the locker room, feeling himself splinter as he begged, literally begged, to know what he had done—why his work had meant nothing. Would he be mortified later? Probably, but everyone had a breaking point, and Buck was realizing (belatedly) that he was past his.

“All I wanted to do today was share a victory with my team, at least share it with you, you’re supposed to be my best friend, and I—I don’t get why—“

If Buck could clearly see Eddie’s face, he might have laughed at the pale, slack jawed, panicked expression before him. As it was, though, his eyes were starting to burn, and even as he reached to rub them, his body finally gave up, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Why is everyone being so fucking mean?”

Buck didn’t bother with another platitude as he pushed past Eddie, rubbing tear tracks off of his cheeks. He felt his face heat up as he stormed out of the firehouse, fumbling for his keys, and heaven help any member of the 118 who stood in his way.

Buck was crying.

The team had made Buck cry.

Fuck, Eddie had made Buck cry.

He just stood in the locker room as the sound of Buck’s Jeep faded into the distance, feeling his heartbeat throughout his entire body. All Buck wanted to do was share some positivity with the team, and Eddie had… eviscerated him. He bent down to pick up some of the papers Buck had left behind, his heart falling even further (as if that was possible) as he read over the paperwork.

Fuck.

“Hey, Eddie, is Buck in here? Chim said he wanted to talk to—woah, what’s wrong?”

The sweat on Eddie’s skin had cooled (hell, how long had he been standing there?) and guilt sunk heavier into his stomach as Hen walked into the locker room, with Chim trailing behind her. Eddie’s eyes were still glued to the release in his hand, barely noticing as Chim spoke, staring down at his phone.

“Uhhh… why is Maddie telling me to camp out with one of you tonight?” he asked the room as a whole, sharing a confused glance with Hen before they both locked eyes on Eddie, who… well, who probably looked as bad as he felt.

Which, considering Eddie felt like he was about to cry himself, was saying a lot.

“We fucked up. I fucked up. I think—I think we broke Buck.”

And he had no idea how to fix it.

#911 #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #buddie #(maybe if you squint)#hurtfic #buck needs a hug #fic #911fic #911 on fox #flospeaks

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

don’t wanna hand you all my trouble (don’t wanna give you all my demons)

TW: descriptions of nightmares about eddie's time in afghanistan, description of a panic attack

read on ao3

The nightmares don’t start after Afghanistan. They start when Eddie is seven and there’s a monster under his bed.

It wakes him from a dead sleep, and he swears he can hear the scratch of claws on the hardwood, the gnashing of teeth just beneath his head. He yells for his mom, who comes racing in like a knight in shining armor, even if her armor is just a bathrobe. She scours the underside of the bed and finds nothing, but stays with Eddie until he’s asleep again. He knows if that thing comes back, she’ll protect him no matter what.

He yells for her every time, and every time she comes.

Until one night, his dad comes instead.

That night, he sits Eddie on the edge of his bed, tells him that monsters aren’t real, and that boys shouldn’t yell for their mom every time they’re scared. That boys will one day turn into men who will have to fight off truly monstrous things on their own, so it’s best to start now so Eddie is prepared.

He stops yelling for his mom, but the monsters don’t stop coming.

They change as he gets older — from creatures in the night to fears of losing his friends or his family to worries about failing classes to worries about his future. Sometimes they’re so abstract he doesn’t remember details beyond the ice cold terror in his veins. They wake him every time, sometimes several nights in a row, and every time he fights the urge to yell, to find comfort somewhere other than himself. Reminds himself that he’s a man, and that men have to save themselves. He breathes deeply, tries to slow his racing heart and go back to sleep. He gets better at it, at calming himself down, until he eventually forgets he ever needed someone else to help him in the first place.

Then he goes to war. He sees the monstrous things his dad warned him about, and he’s not even close to prepared.

By the time he comes back, he’s seen and done things that would keep the scariest, gruesomest monster from sleeping soundly. He’s left chunks of himself behind in sand dunes and medic tents, drying into dust, disappearing into the desert. And he’s waking up in a cold sweat almost every night, mind foggy with images of the people he couldn’t save, everything he did wrong. But he still can’t make himself cry out for help, because he still remembers that he has to save himself. Even more so now, because saving himself means saving the people he loves from being exposed to every terrible thing that he sees every time he closes his eyes.

So the nightmares don’t start after Afghanistan. But they don’t get any easier, either.

~~~~~~~~~~

He gets a few years of peace. Maybe less peace and more pure exhaustion from working nonstop and raising a kid on his own. He rarely falls into a deep enough sleep to feel rested, and there are still some nights where he wakes up to a vague feeling of panic sitting like lead in his stomach.

The whirlwind of moving halfway across the country and starting his life over again keeps him just as tired. They’ve been in Los Angeles for six months before Eddie finally starts to feel settled. Chris loves his school, they have Carla, and Eddie has the 118. His new family and his new...Buck. For the first time in a while, he feels like he’s on his way to something like happiness.

So of course, one day, one seemingly good day where calls are light and Buck keeps shooting sunny smiles his way, he goes to take a nap in the bunks and is met with blood and screams. He’s trying desperately to move nameless bodies to safety, but he’s not fast enough, not strong enough. They’re screaming his name now, trying to get his attention as they’re picked off one by one. They get louder and louder and louder until—

“Eddie!”

He wakes with a start, doesn’t see bodies any more, just Buck, his brow furrowed in concern, hands held out placatingly towards Eddie. His head whips side to side a few times, remembering he’s at work and he’s safe. He sits up on the bunk, still shaken, crossing his legs as Buck moves to sit down beside him, slowly, like he’s waiting for Eddie to tell him to leave. Eddie doesn’t.

“Sorry Buck, I didn’t mean—”

Buck shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize. Are you okay?”

It’s been a while since anyone has asked him that.

“I’m fine, just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No one’s ever asked him that.

And the thing is, his first instinct is to say yes. Because he does — he wants to expel some of the pent up terrors so that maybe he can sleep soundly again. He wants to drain it from his mind, watch it all swirl down the sink and into the ocean, get rid of it for good.

But he knows it’s not that easy. And he still hears his dad’s voice telling him to save himself.

“I’m alright man, but thanks.” Buck doesn’t look like he believes him, but he lets it go, heads out of the bunk room with one last glance at Eddie, brow still furrowed. The door shuts behind him, and Eddie falls back on the bed. Lays there for another 30 minutes but can’t fall back asleep.

He stops napping at work after that. It’s easier to deny the nightmares when no one can see them.

But then Shannon comes back. Then she’s gone for good. Then Buck gets crushed by a ladder truck. Then he almost loses Chris and Buck to a tsunami.

Suddenly real life is more of a nightmare than anything he sees in his sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The solution, it seems, is exhaustion. After back to back shifts, after staying up with Chris as he cries through his own nightmares, Eddie is able to sleep for at least a few hours at a time. He hesitates to call it “peaceful”, but he doesn’t hear any screams, at least.

But as Chris slowly starts sleeping through the night again, he has to find other ways to tire himself out. Sometimes it’s a midnight workout in the living room, sometimes it’s deep cleaning the kitchen at 1:00am. Sometimes it’s just staring listlessly at the TV until his eyes are too heavy and he passes out on the couch, woken by sunlight and reruns of Golden Girls. It’s not perfect, it’s probably not healthy, but it keeps him rested enough to make it through the day, and he doesn’t feel ice anywhere.

He should have known it was too easy, too good to be true.

He turns off the TV, spreading a blanket over Buck where he’s dead to the world on the couch, passed out halfway through the baseball game they were watching after Chris went to sleep. His curls are soft on the pillow and he looks relaxed like this, far more relaxed than Eddie can ever remember seeing him when he’s awake. It’s overwhelmingly tempting to run his fingers through those curls, trace down his jawline, over his birthmark, but Eddie shakes the thought from his head and quickly heads toward his room. He sticks his head into Chris’s room, smiling as he hears his heavy breathing, sees him star-fished on his bed. As he gets into bed himself, he can’t help but marvel at how normal tonight was. His best friend and his son eating dinner together, watching a movie, sharing easy jokes and laughter like the past few months hadn’t scarred the both of them, physically and emotionally. And Eddie got to witness it all, felt a contentment settle in him that follows him as he closes eyes, that almost makes him forget what can happen when exhaustion isn’t forcing him to sleep.

Almost.

He feels the bullets whizzing past him, feels the scratch of sand underneath his hands. He looks around at the carnage, but the bodies aren’t nameless this time. It’s his platoon, the 118, Shannon, Christopher. Buck. They’re all lying motionless and it’s his fault, their blood is staining every inch of him and he can’t scrub it off. He hears screaming and crying, doesn’t realize it’s his own until his throat is raw and he tastes salt. He failed again, and no amount of tears will fix it.

He’s still crying when he wakes up, gasping for air, still feels sand between his fingers. He tries to calm down, taking shuddering breaths in and out, but it’s too much and not enough and he feels light-headed. He hears movement down the hall and quickly slips out of bed and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, sinking to the ground. He’s shaking so bad his teeth are chattering, and he clamps a hand over his mouth as another scream threatens to fall out of him without his permission.

This is far and away the worst he’s ever been after a nightmare, and he’s not sure what to do. He feels even more lost and helpless than usual, and he has no idea when it will stop.

The first knocks are so soft he misses them, mistakes them for his body shaking the door as he leans against it. The second knocks are louder, a little more urgent, followed by a twist of the doorknob.

“Eddie? It’s me, can I come in?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just shifts to lean against the bathtub so the door can open. The knob turns again and there’s Buck, looking wide eyed and a little scared himself, like he too just woke up from some horror in his sleep. Eddie meets his eyes and sees them soften as he takes him in — he’s not sure what he looks like, but his face feels puffy and he can feel dried tear tracks, so it’s probably not pretty. He looks away as Buck moves towards him, sliding to sit next to him against the bathtub. He’s close but they’re not touching, which is good because Eddie is fighting down another wave of agony, another scream is trying to claw its way out, and he doesn’t think he can handle any kind of interaction just yet.

Buck must feel it too, somehow, because he waits. Doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say anything, just waits.

Eddie calms down — not completely, but enough to feel like he can function — and leans his head back against the cool edge of the tub, taking a deep breath. He chances a look over to Buck and sees him watching. He tries to smile, reassure him that this is nothing, but it feels like more of a grimace. It’s too much this time, even for his well-conditioned brain, and he can’t fake it.

Buck’s eyes search his face, and Eddie sees his hand twitch toward him out of the corner of his eye.

“Can I touch you?” Buck asks softly. Eddie freezes — he hadn’t ever really considered that that’s a thing you can ask at a time like this, something he could say no to — before nodding, because his whole body is still buzzing and he thinks Buck might be able to ground him.

He usually does.

Buck reaches his hand out slowly, wrapping long fingers around Eddie’s before sliding them together. He brings Eddie’s hand into his lap, holding it between both of his, slowly tracing his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. He still feels like a live wire, but he doesn’t want to scream anymore. He meets Buck’s eyes and sees understanding and sadness and other things that Eddie’s always hoped to see but can’t process right this moment. He hopes he’ll get to see them again soon.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

There’s that question again.

And Eddie does, actually truly does. It’s clear he can��t save himself like he’s been told he’s supposed to, and maybe he shouldn’t have to, so he wants someone’s help. He knows Buck will help him, will protect him from whatever he can’t handle on his own.

He always does.

But Eddie’s tired and ripped open and doesn’t want to think about or relive anything right now. He squeezes Buck’s hand where it’s still tightly clasped.

“Not yet. But I will.”

Buck’s shoulders relax just a bit, like he’s relieved it wasn’t an outright refusal. They stay on the ground together until Eddie moves to get up, holding tighter when Buck tries to disentangle their hands. They walk towards Eddie’s bed together, and Eddie scoots to the far side, still not letting go.

“Will you stay? Please?” Eddie asks, whisper loud in the quiet room.

Buck pauses for a moment before climbing in as well, settling under the covers on his side, facing Eddie. Buck looks nervously down at their hands then back up to Eddie.

“Can I—”

Eddie’s grabbing Buck’s shirt before he finishes, pulling them as close together as possible, wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist and burying his face in his chest. Buck doesn’t hesitate to press his face into Eddie’s hair, hands rubbing is back slowly, soothingly.

“Of course I’ll stay, Eddie. I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me. I promise.”

For the first time in too long, Eddie falls into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, he talks. Not much, but more than he has since he was seven. He feels a little less tense afterwards, breathes a little easier.

The next day, he talks more.

The next week, more.

So on and so on.

And Buck stays. Just like he promised.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #this is 75% me wanting to use this lyric as a fic title #the other 25% is my general eddie emo-ness #also who doesn't love hurt comfort??#ficcery #soft eddie rights

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