#and now I can move on to the alive Shannon fic I guess!

[wikiangela]

such a productive day, finished the possessive fic, and now the holiday fic too! 😂

the possessive fic requires some editing so it'll take a few days, but the last chapter of the holiday fic will be up in a few minutes! (I haven't edited it much since chapter 1, why start now lol, I'm just happy I finally finished it haha)

[matan4il]

911 ep 707 first watch reactions

Oh man, I'm actually not sure I have that much to say about this ep.

The entire plot with Mara and her brother Tyson was very sweet, very nice, and way too convenient. One day, shows are going to stop using the phrase, "There must be something you can do!" like it's some secret magic phrase, that makes this sentiment into a reality, AND turns the person addressed into someone willing to risk everything, in order to do that one thing they can do, which is usually something they're very much not supposed to... That said, Denny was sweet, Mara was lovely, her with Tyson was very endearing, and Henren continued to rule.

The storyline with Maddie was nicely handled, both her trauma, and the way Chim helped her use it to figure out the case and help save everyone from the stalker. My little Madney heart absolutely loved it. And Maddie's distress over a baby involved felt very real and understandable, when she's a mom herself now.

But then in a sense, it was clear this has no long term repercussions, other than bringing Brad into contact with Bobby. With his burn scars, and what we know about the fire that Bobby caused in the past, we can guess where this is headed. I trust that 911 will delve into this coming clash with the same humaneness with which it tackles most storylines.

But I'll be honest, I don't really like where Eddie's headed. I know Shannon scarred him deeply, but he was able to let go of her, and allow her to walk away from him twice while she was alive. It's weird if it's now being implied that the reason why he was never able to move on to another serious r/s is that he was stuck on her. The way she died was traumatic and painful, and it made sense that, even accepting that they as a couple were over, he had a hard time dealing with her death, but Eddie seemingly moved on in s4 at the latest. It feels a bit like they don't really know what to do with him, and how to move him on, so they keep going in circles with his character. Kinda like they were with Buck in s6. None of what we saw in that season helped Buck get to some major breakthroughs that we've seen in this one, so this current storyline with Eddie might end in the same way.

I'm not saying it doesn't have the potential to move him forward, and I'm sure it will be presented as if it has whether it actually does or doesn't (kinda like how 618 presented Buck and Natalia as a move forward, even though it very obviously was not), but right now, I'm not enjoying it. I also... even with this idea of having Eddie run into a Shannon look-a-like, I feel they could have gone in a lot of different ways, and the one where he goes on a date with her while having a serious gf he's essentially cheating on, it just doesn't feel great, or true to Eddie's values. Which can be the point, right? That sometimes we're so shaken up, we do stuff that's uncharacteristic. If that's where they'll take it, then it's working, 'coz right now, everything about this feels a little off. Let's hope they do something actually constructive with this, and give Eddie real progress (rather than just give Tim an opportunity to re-use an actress he already said he really likes).

Small mandatory Buddifer moment was really lovely, even if far from what my shipper heart would want. Then again, I honestly feel it's so funny that Buck is dating Tommy, while being married to Eddie, his actual baby daddy. If there aren't a lot of fics shipping all three men already, then IDK fandom.

Thank you for reading! If you’re looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

Tagged by @giddyupbuck <33333 (I can't wait to read your Eddie whump) and @forthewolves (looking disrespectful at your smut) <333333

Secret fic was kind of guessed by my wife @hippolotamus and well I explained it to @thewolvesof1998 and some of you send me to jail so I revel secret.

It's amnesia fic : Eddie loses only one year of his life after head injury on the call, but this year starts exactly some days before lightning so Eddie doesn't remember Buck's death and coma and can't remember he understood his feelings, their confession and plan for first date

here is poor Eric dealing with Eddie's mess (and some angst for Eddie. not only Buck struggle)

Eddie laughs and he thinks it’s nice to talk with Eric. He’s funny and interesting and makes Eddie feel good, and all those feelings from the gym only grow right now in this cafe. Eddie definitely can think about a second date.

“Well, it’s so crazy. I remember once we were with all the team on the TV because Taylor Kelly decided that 118 can make her popular. Well, we kind of did,” Eddie with bitterness remembered his interview was one of the reasons redhead has her time at Channel 8.

“Wait, you’re from 118?” green eyes look at him with with great interest and surprise.

“Yes,” Eddie answers with a little question in his voice cause he can sense how Eric’s interest goes to not him, but something else. Like he expects Eddie to tell him the best gossip of his life.

(more under cut to save dash)

“OMG,” Eric almost jumps in his seat and bends closer to him and asks with excitement, “is it true that the guy who was struck by lightning almost a year ago and died for three minutes came back for work? Like real firefighting. How’s his name mmmm, oh yes, Evan Buckley.”

Eddie feels like it’s him, he was struck by lightning right now. Because it’s not possible he could forget Buck dying. But-but if it was almost a year ago it means it gets into a zone that he still can't remember.

Zone where details of his life that just don't puzzle in the picture in his head. And now he can tell why he feels sick even trying to remember it. Why when he tried hard to concentrate on the dates he felt nauseous.

Buck was dead. Buck was dead for three minutes. "AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS," someone inside his head is screaming it, someone whose voice is so similar to his own. But his voice screams with such pain that Eddie has never heard. Unless only when shouting towards the sunsets mourning Shannon alone.

His mouth is filled with the taste of ozone, and pain is felt in his body as if he fell unsuccessfully, and then later he sees it. 

Such a familiar body that doesn't move and hangs so high above him. He hears his voice shouting “Buck”, feels dead weight in his hands, and feels like he wants to feel it closer, but he can't and he has to lower it, feels the steering wheel in his hands and hears all the prayers that he knows with a mixture of an internal timer counting down every second of hell, feels like the ribs are breaking but he would prefer to only hug them tightly, feels trapped near the ward, not daring to enter, hears the sound of Chris's voice talking to Buck, who does not answer him. And then he feels relieved when looking into insanely beautiful ALIVE blue eyes. 

At this moment, he feels like his breathing is knocked down and as he is clearly struggling for air, he is working to calm down, trying to push air through the vice in his chest, squeezing him so hard that he's ready to scream in pain.

Gradually his breathing returns to normal and he meets the frightened green eyes.

“I’m so sorry, but I need to go,” he throws all the cash he has and runs outside, already taking out the car keys.

He needs to see Buck.

tagging @alyxmastershipper @jeeyuns @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherluciferr @wikiangela @hippolotamus @911onabc @transbuck @fatedking @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @mandzuking17 @gayarthur @housewifebuck @honestlydarkprincess @cowboy-buddie @watchyourbuck @eddiediaztho @pirrusstuff @heartshapedvows @devirnis @rogerzsteven @spotsandsocks @spaceprincessem @wildlife4life

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

What I Want - Part 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Title: What I Need

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: Following the awkwardness of the night before, you go to an old friend to try and process your feelings for Crosshair.

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: 18+, a bit more frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe. Swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: You ask, you get!! Thanks so much for all the support and love for part 1 ❤️. As a thank you, I bring you part 2, I hope you enjoy! If this one takes off a bit as well, I do have an idea for a little bonus chapter around the Bad Batches' reaction. As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @aerynwrites @shannon-lynn-21 @saltywintersoldat @tired-night-owl @wille-zarr

A comm alarm beeped softly, slowly pulling you out your slumber. Giving the device a sleepy glare, you shut it off and huffed back onto your bunk. Wrecker’s snores were echoing off the small ship barracks, you rolled your eyes at his sleeping form across the room as you swung your legs over the side of your top bunk. Below you, Tech slept soundly, he managed to fall asleep with his goggles on which were now sitting wonky on his relaxed face. He also had a datapad clutched to his chest, almost like a teddy bear, which made you chuckle to yourself.

You’d barely slept after getting back from the mission but being a General stopping over on Coruscant meant rest would be a pipe dream. Your alarm was set to get you out of bed and ready for the first of what you were sure would be a hundred and ten briefings today. You were always happy to shoulder the politics for the team, removing that burden from Hunter so they could keep to themselves. But today, you could really do without it.

You looked over at Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks, the former sleeping up top with an arm over his eyes. Probably to block out the few small coloured lights on the ship that shone from critical systems, preventing the room from being truly pitch black. You didn’t envy Hunter’s enhanced senses, they seemed to cause him quite a bit of discomfort when they weren’t on missions. You should probably pick him up an eye mask one of these days.

Below him, Crosshair slept with his back to the open room. One of the few times you ever saw his body relaxed was when he slept. You cringed as you remembered yesterday’s awkwardness with the sniper and mentally cursed at yourself for causing, what was, an easily avoidable situation.

Shaking your head you jumped silently off of your bunk, mindful to not wake any of the batch. You gently removed Tech’s goggles, placing them in their usual spot before moving over to grab some fresh robes and head for the fresher. Today was going to be a real drag.

—————————————————

“Hey! Look what the Lothcat dragged in” someone called after you as you trudged up the steps to the GAR Headquarters. You turned around to see none other than Anakin Skywalker jogging up behind you.

“Nice to see you too Skyguy” he chuckled at the nickname as he threw an arm around your shoulders.

You fell into companionable chatter as you made your way to your first meeting, the dark halls of the military headquarters looking indistinguishable as you attempted to find the correct room. Members of the Coruscant Guard patrolled the halls, nodding politely to you both as you strolled past.

Eventually you found the room where Mace, Plo and Luminara were waiting, along with some clone and human high command. You stood outside the door for a moment, readying yourself to seal your fate of being talked at for a solid eight standard hours.

Eventually you caved, mostly as you were on the verge of being late if you debated standing outside any longer. Begrudgingly, you sat through briefing after briefing. All the voices and different rooms blending into one grey blur as you tried to take in what information you could, but your tired and stressed mind was having none of it.

While it was nice to catch up with some of the other Jedi, you always felt a bit out of place among the perfect members of the council. More so now than ever.

You ended up wandering back to the temple with Anakin where you both retired to his room and you flopped down onto his simple bed with a whine.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been off all day” Anakin was the closest thing you had to a brother, you trained as Padawans together and due to your similar age you became fast friends. You knew about his marriage to Padme and decided that if you could offload your dilemma on anyone, it’d be him.

“I fucked up” you groaned out from behind your hands.

“What’d you do?” Anakin replied in a playful tone.

“I might’ve got a bit hot and heavy with one of the clones in my squad, led him on and then cut it off” Anakin raised an eyebrow at your confession. “And now he’s pissed at me”

“Why?” You weren’t entirely sure which part of that entire thing he was questioning.

“Because I started the whole thing, I wanted it. Then all of a sudden I did that whole guilty Jedi, must follow every word of the order thing, gave him some pathetic look which said really sorry I can’t have attachments mate, hope you understand. He called me out on it before I could even utter the banthashit excuse and then he stomped off and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“In his defence, seems like he was probably wound a little tight” Anakin replied with a chuckle which you just groaned at.

“He has every right to be pissed. Hells, I would be if the roles were reversed. Whats with this whole self-righteous act us Jedi have going on?”

“Look, it’s hard being a Jedi at the best of times. It takes an inhumane amount of self-control, which is why its not a path for the weak. But being a Jedi while at war… it’s a lot. You’re emotions are running high, you’re forming bonds with soldiers on the battlefield that you shouldn’t be, but none of us can help it because it’s uncharted territory. Maker knows I’d hunt down anyone who hurt Obi-Wan or my Captain. Yes, It’s not the Jedi way, but neither is fighting a grand-scale war.” Anakin’s eyes were alive with emotion as he spoke, be he quickly caught himself and then it was gone.

“My point is, don’t beat yourself up so much. No one is getting kicked out the order or in his case reconditioned if that’s what you’re worried about. Figure out what it is you want, and then just be discreet about it” you looked at Anakin like he’d grown two heads, he just winked at your confused stare.

“Okay let’s keep it simple. Are you attracted to him?” You thought back to the night before and firmly nodded in response.

“Do you like him as a person?” You pondered his question.

“Well, it’s Cross. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me for a long time. He’s closed off, anti-social, but he’s also a good guy, cares about his brothers, has saved my ass multiple times, and he is kinda funny in his own, snide way” you rattled off with fondness in your words.

“Well then I suggest you go and talk to him.” Anakin replied, giving you a knowing look when he spotted the small smile on your lips as you spoke about the sniper.

You took a deep breath, glad to have finally gotten that off your chest and feeling content that you now knew what to do next. “Thanks, Ani”

“Ugh please don’t call me that” he moaned back, apparently only Padme was allowed to get away with that one.

————————————————

Your walk back to the Marauder felt like it dragged on and on. Your brain ran over a thousand scenarios of what to say, how he’d react and you were about to short circuit. There was so much risk, so much possibility, that you did your best to shut your mind off and let yourself handle it in the moment. These things never went as planned anyway, it was best not to guess.

The large door to the ship hissed open, your boots clanking on the metal surface as you cautiously walked into your home. It didn’t take you long to find Crosshair, he was sat in the main hull methodically cleaning his hand blaster. Everyone else must’ve been asleep. He was just in his blacks, the material hugging him in the most wonderful way, it’s like whoever designed those things was trying to trip you up. The contours of his arm muscles flexing as he worked, his strong chest looked practically chiselled at the heart of his lean frame. You had to force yourself to calm down a little bit.

“Uh, hey” you greeted awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”

You took his silence as a well he’s not saying no. He didn’t spare you a glance as you walked in and took a seat opposite him. As a General in the GAR, you rarely got nervous. War, as a concept, was simple. You knew your purpose, your objective, you had a job to get done and you’d do it. The risks never stopped you, rather they fuelled you. Probably why you’re such a good fit for the bad batch.

But this right now, personal feelings, not knowing where you stand with someone you care about. Because if you were honest, you really did care about Crosshair, the same as you did the rest of the team. You’d only been with the squad just under a year but you’d gladly lay down your life for any of them in a heartbeat. If you could at least get back to where you were before the other night, you’d be over the moon.

You weren’t used to being so nervous, you let your hands fiddle with you dark Jedi robes as you readied yourself to speak again.

“Look, I’m not here to throw some crap about being a Jedi at you, I promise. And I’m sorry for trying it before” he still didn’t look at you, finding his blaster much more interesting. But you could tell he was listening, you had his attention. Might as well keep babbling.

“In terms of an explanation for what happened yesterday, well I guess I panicked.” You sighed as you tried to find the next words “The way you made me feel that night, I… I’ve never felt like that before and everything i’d been taught over the years screamed at me that what I was doing was dangerous and wrong. I now realise that I’m just an idiot. I make my own decisions and I… uh -well, I stick by that one, starting something that is.” Still nothing.

“I know this is probably a long shot. But in the interest of being transparent” you rambled “uh… if you want to go down that road again, I’m up for seeing what happens, can be as casual as we like. I promise I won’t freak out on you again.” You chuckled and thought you almost spotted a slight pull in the corner of Crosshair’s lips “But if you want to go back to how we were before, I’d also really like that.” You watched him for a while as he gave no acknowledgement of your words, his cleaning finished as he now gave the weapon a once over in his hands. Having said everything you needed, you got up from your seat, looking away from him.

“Well, if I can do anything else, let me know” you turned on your heel to leave, feeling slightly defeated but glad you’d at least made the first step.

“I could think of a few things” he finally spoke as he leaned back into his seat and continued to stare at his blaster, still not meeting your gaze.

Well that caught your attention, you turned back around to face him as he carried on ignoring you. While his tone was unbothered as he spoke, you knew him just enough to know his words held a meaning. He was playing with you, back to his usual teasing and you could’ve laughed at the relief that washed over you. This you could work with. A cheeky idea popped into your head and you’d decided to run with it.

“Oh really?” Throwing caution to the wind, you strode over to the sniper slowly. His gaze finally meeting yours after all this time, watching you as you got closer and closer. Practically drawing you in with his amber eyes. You pushed him back by his chest, creating enough room so you could straddle his lap. “Care to elaborate?”

He huffed out a short laugh at your words, his face overall unbothered but his eyes, they were burning into you. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out”.

You hummed in response, deciding to kick things up a notch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just breaths apart. “Something like this?” You asked, pausing for another second before bringing your lips to his in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. You felt his hands come up to rest on your back, pulling you closer as you continued your slow dance. This was so different from the other night, where before there was desperation and lust, now there was something more… tender, passionate. You were quite glad you weren’t standing as the way he moved against you would’ve definitely made your knees weak.

Dragging yourself away from his lips, you searched his face. His mouth pulled into a barely there smirk “That’s a start.”

“Who said I was finished?” And just like that, the last few strands of tension between you both snapped and you relaxed in his arms. You fisted your hands into the front of his blacks and pulled him back to you, his tongue slipped between your lips, curious and demanding. He was everywhere again, filling your nose with the scent of the standard cheap GAR soap but mixed with something earthy, something so distinctly Crosshair and you couldn’t get enough.

You could tell why the Jedi order frowned upon such activities, kissing Crosshair was intoxicating. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the handsome clone in front of you and just how much you wanted him in that moment.

His hands wandered lower and lower down you back until they rested comfortably on your backside, pulling you further up his lap. Feeling mischievous, you started trailing kisses along his jaw. Setting a teasing, languid pace as you mapped out the spots that made him squirm. Crosshair was never a man of many words, so you made it your mission to see just how vocal you could make him.

As your lips met his pulse point, he gave a loud exhale and you smirked in victory against his skin as you continued the onslaught on his senses. You definitely seemed to be doing something right as his hands found themselves in your hair, clutching slightly and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Even while trying to gain the upper hand in the situation, he always had some control over you. It was maddening in the best way, setting your veins alight with desire.

Determined to get another victory you traced your tongue against the base of the side of his neck and trailed it all the way up to the bottom of his ear, which you teasingly took into your mouth, teeth grazing the soft skin. A strangled moan escaped the clone and that was the moment where you knew you were hopelessly and utterly gone. Your mind filled with nothing other than wanting to be closer to Crosshair.

“Not very Jedi of you” he commented, slightly breathless when you finally stopped teasing him and came back up to meet his eyes. Looking down at where your bodies were pressed against one another, you chuckled.

“What exactly about this situation led you to believe I was ever a model Jedi?” You smirked, though it was only visible for a second before his mouth was back on yours, devouring you as his hands greedily roamed your body.

You continued making out like teenagers for most of the evening, taking the time to explore each other, enjoying the closeness. Contentment settled over your body, almost as if this was were you were meant to be. If Crosshair’s arms were where you belonged, well, you could think of worse places to be.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[fruitydiaz-archived]

fuck it! my turn.

it has to be him

post 4.13 fic babbyyy

3,741 words

AO3 link

“We should’ve gotten here sooner.”

“That kid is just lucky he met you.”

“Diaz, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?”

“Yeah — “

The sound of gunfire, the sound he should recognize instantly, the sound he should recognize anywhere, the sound that still haunts him in the middle of the night sometimes.

The sound he missed.

“That’d be great — “

Except he doesn’t get to finish his words — not before the bullet makes impact and it’s piercing his shirt, his skin, his shoulder.

What?

He looks up, stunned. The pain is radiating from his shoulder, spreading through his body — but it can’t be. It can’t be.

He locks eyes with Buck — Buck. Buck who’s standing right in front of him, staring back at him with the same shock he knows is all over his own face. Buck who’s covered in blood.

Eddie’s heart rate picks up at the sight, Buck covered in blood — that’s never good. But it’s not his own, he realizes. It’s not Buck’s blood — it’s Eddie’s. Momentarily, that’s comforting. Buck’s okay, Buck’s okay.

He’s never going to get that stain out, he thinks, belatedly, before his vision starts to go blurry around the edges.

Right.

He’s been shot. He’s been shot in the middle of fucking Los Angeles, in the middle of the street, in his LAFD uniform.

He’s been shot.

He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know how this happened. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t hear anything but ringing in his ears, barely notices the way his body tips to the side before he’s falling, barely registers the pain that shoots through his body as he crumples against the gravel. He’s barely there.

Buck stares, his whole world is spinning, tilting on its axis in agonizing slow motion. Eddie was just there, standing in front of him, beating himself up for not seeing the signs sooner, talking to him — when it all stopped. And now he’s bleeding. Buck couldn’t see it at first, not really, not against the dark blue of Eddie’s uniform. But it’s all over him, he can feel it, taste it, smell it.

He doesn’t understand.

Eddie’s been shot.

He watches as Eddie collapses, watches the blood spill onto the concrete, watches it spread to places it shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be, it shouldn’t be — none of this should be. His stomach twists, turns on itself, and Buck thinks for a moment that he might be sick, that he might fall to his knees and spill his lunch out over the street. Maybe he’ll get shot.

Maybe he’ll get shot.

Everything is frozen and he can’t move and he keeps waiting for something to happen, for something to snap and he’ll wake up in his bed, safe and warm — like this has all been one twisted dream.

He keeps waiting for Eddie to stand back up, to brush it off, to squeeze Buck’s shoulder and then disappear into the ambulance, safe, riding off with Charlie — like this has all been one twisted dream.

He keeps waiting for another bullet to take him.

We always wanted to go together. That’s love.

But it doesn’t happen, none of it happens. Another bullet rips through the air but Buck never hears it, he barely registers the way Captain Mehta collides into him, slamming him against the firetruck, and pushing him to the ground.

He finds Eddie’s eyes instantly. It’s devastating, the way his eyes have gone glassy and unseeing. But they’re on Buck, locked with his own, and if he can just hold his gaze then he’ll know he’s okay.

If Eddie keeps his eyes on him, if Buck doesn’t blink for a second, if he can still see the life in Eddie’s eyes, then he’ll know he’s okay.

But Eddie’s losing grip on his own consciousness. He feels himself reach out, the feeble movement of his hand shifting over gravel, but it’s not enough. He can’t reach him, he can’t touch him, no matter how much he wants to.

And, oh, does he want to. He’s never wanted so badly in his life to reach out and grab a hold of Buck’s hand and allow himself to be pulled to safety. He remembers the day the truck exploded, the day it crashed and burned and crushed Buck’s leg beneath its weight. He remembers it vividly — he saw it in his dreams for months. He remembers fighting the urge to run to him until it was safe, remembers kneeling by his head while Chimney — Chimney the paramedic with years of experience on him — moved to help lift the truck, remembers holding Buck’s hand in his and trying his best to make him believe that everything was going to be okay.

He wishes he knew that everything was going to be okay, wishes Buck’s hand was in his right now. But Buck is safe.

Buck is safe on the other side of that truck and Captain Mehta is holding him down, keeping him there, and that’s good. One of them needs to stay alive — and it’s not going to be Eddie.

He remembers the day Shannon died, remembers sitting over her in the ambulance, watching the life leave her body.

“Leaving again...I’m so sorry. I’d love...a little more time.”

And he had been so angry with her, so angry with her for leaving, because it was just like her.

“Hey, did you miss me while I was gone?”

“I missed you all the time.”

“I missed you all the time, too, kid. I’m never going to leave you again.”

He guesses that makes him a hypocrite, being mad at Shannon for leaving Chris again, when here he is, doing the same damn thing, bleeding out on the street just like her. And worse — he’s a liar, too. He should’ve known better than to tell Chris he’d never leave him, because here he is, doing it again.

But Buck is okay, Buck is still on the other side of that truck and Eddie can see his eyes. They’re scared but they’re full of life and righteous fury and Eddie knows that as long as Buck’s alive Christopher will be okay.

“I’ve failed that kid more times than I care to count, but I love him enough to never stop trying. And I know you do too.”

Christopher will be okay. Buck will take care of him.

They’re going to be okay. Eddie can leave them.

They’re going to be okay.

Buck watches, horrified as Eddie’s eyes start to leave his. No no no no. He has to stay with him, he has to keep his eyes on his, he can’t go.

But Eddie’s eyes slip closed and Buck feels everything inside of him break.

This can’t happen. It can’t happen. Not like this.

“You’re a badass under pressure, brother.”

“Me?”

No. Not me. Buck’s nothing under pressure, nothing without his uniform. He’s a coward, hiding behind a truck while his best friend lays out in the open, vulnerable and unprotected, bleeding out.

“You can have my back any day.”

“Yeah? Or, you know...you could have mine.”

“Alright, deal.”

Buck was supposed to have his back — that was the deal.

They do this together, or not at all.

The world comes roaring back to life around him, a flurry of shouting, people scrambling around them, bullets ripping through the air, Captain Mehta on him, yelling into his radio.

“Firefighter down, I repeat, firefighter down — we are taking fire.”

Firefighter down — that’s Eddie.

Buck feels the adrenaline surge through him, feels his brain finally kick back online, as he digs his hands into the concrete and pushes himself up. He ignores Mehta’s screams of protest — all he’s thinking about is Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie. He scrambles to get his feet under him and moves to run around the truck to Eddie but Mehta’s hands are grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and they’re twisting and pulling him back, slamming his body against the truck and tugging him towards the ground.

“Don’t be stupid, Buckley,” Mehta growls. “I’m not letting you get yourself killed.”

“I-I-I have to help, Eddie,” Buck shouts, surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I can’t leave him out there.”

“Did you not hear me?” The captain jabs a finger out to the side, where Eddie had been standing before the bullet sliced through him. “We are taking fire. Your friend doesn’t need you to be reckless right now.”

“He’s not just my friend,” Buck bites back, his voice hoarse. “He — he’s my partner. I told him I’d have his back and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He’s never been one to give up — it’s not what he does — especially not on Eddie. He gets back on his hands and knees and looks under the truck. Eddie’s still there, of course, rolled onto his back. His skin is turning pale and Buck’s blood is running cold.

He looks back up at Mehta.

“I have to get to him — I...I can crawl under the truck and get to him." Mehta looks at him — and Buck gets it. He’s seen this same face on his own captain plenty of times — the fear of the situation, the loss of control, the need to keep his team safe — that’s his job, and the damning realization that Buck is going to do whatever it takes to save whoever it is that needs saving — because that’s his job.

He shakes his head minutely and presses his lips together before gesturing to his medics to move over to them. Buck takes the opportunity to dive under the truck.

It gets quieter under there, even with the blood rushing in his ears.

Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie.

It’s not the first time he’s been under a firetruck. They have to do this sort of thing when training — to be prepared for any scenario. He remembers having to dive under the truck with his team and a dozen civilians when a gas main broke two years back and the whole neighborhood went up in flames. Eddie was in the house with that kid and the 217 had to fly overhead to put the fires out.

That was fine.

He also remembers the explosion. The truck on top of him. The heat and the pain and the fear.

He remembers it all.

But he’s not thinking about any of that as he crawls his way to Eddie, gravel and debris digging into his skin. He has to get to Eddie. That’s all that matters.

When he reaches the other side of the truck he stretches his arm out to pull himself over to Eddie — but another shot rings out and Buck barely manages to pull himself back under the truck before a bullet ricochets off the concrete. It’s not close enough to have hit him — the sniper isn’t that great of a hit — but it’s enough to deliver a message.

If you try — you’re dead.

They need more time — but they don’t have it. Buck’s watching the life drain out of Eddie’s body and onto the street, he’s watching him slip away and he can’t wait any longer. He needs him.

Buck can hear someone screaming, muffled shouts and feet scraping against the street behind him, on the other side of the truck, and bullets ricocheting against metal — a distraction.

He moves on instinct, fingers scraping against the concrete as he climbs over to Eddie.

“Eddie, Eddie,” He’s screaming, repeating Eddie’s name over and over, like a mantra, begging him to wake up, begging him to look at him. Eddie’s head lulls to the side as Buck climbs over him, shielding his body with his own, if only several minutes too late. His fingers are on Eddie’s neck, checking for a pulse, the other pressing hard against his wound. It’s only his years of experience that keep him from retching at the feeling of Eddie’s blood spilling over his fingers.

“Got a pulse, but it’s weak,” Buck shouts to no one, really. The other team can’t hear him — not with the truck between them and the gunfire and the sounds of people screaming. But it’s his job and if he can cling to the one thing he knows how to do — they can make it through this.

“Buck…” Buck feels the muscles in Eddie’s neck moves and glances down to see him looking up at him, eyelids low.

“Hey,” Buck breathes, smiling for the first time. He feels his eyes sting with tears — surprised they hadn’t come sooner, but he blinks them back. They’re not in the clear yet. “You’re gonna be okay, Eds. I’ve got you.”

“Shot…” Eddie slurs, eyes rolling back in his head momentarily. Buck swallows hard.

“Yeah, we’re gonna take care of that.”

“‘stopher…”

“I’ll take care of him, Eddie, you know that. But right now...right now I’m taking care of you. I’ve gotta — I’ve gotta get you around the truck.” It’s not going to be easy and it’s going to hurt like hell, they both know that. Buck takes a moment to apologize before he’s moving again. He climbs over Eddie, crouches by his head, and shoves his arms up under Eddie’s. The first thing he feels is Eddie’s blood, still bleeding out his wound, staining Buck’s shirt.

It’s fine — he was going to burn it anyways, when all this is over, when Eddie’s safe.

Eddie grunts in pain, the movement jostling his entire body, the bullet still embedded in his shoulder. Buck lets out a string of apologies as he pulls Eddie back as quickly as possible, fully aware that they are still out in the open with a sniper set on putting them both in the morgue.

It’s nothing short of a miracle, getting Eddie around to the side of the truck with the chaos around them. Mehta’s team is with them in seconds and they’re lifting Eddie into the truck together. Buck doesn’t even think when he climbs in with their medic, pulling the door shut behind him as the captain and another member climb into the front seat.

A few bullets dent the windows but Buck’s not paying them any mind. He’s barely breathing, barely listening as the medic in the back instructs him, as Mehta shouts information to dispatch and they start to pull away from the scene.

Buck’s shoving his fingers through the front of Eddie’s shirt, pulling it open with frantic energy. The medic is there in a second, pressing gauze against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Hold your hand against this firmly and put pressure,” They direct Buck and he nods. He’s back at Eddie’s side instantly, pressing down onto the gauze and desperately praying to a God he’s not even sure that he believes in — but Eddie does.

Eddie does — Buck’s heard him mumble a prayer under his breath enough times while on calls to know that even if he says he’s not religious — he believes in something, someone out there watching over them. And it’s gotten them this far, so, Buck prays.

He presses his fingers hard over Eddie’s shoulder and prays that they make it to the hospital on time, prays that they did enough to stop the bleeding, that the doctors will be able to extract the bullet and patch Eddie up, prays that he’ll get to go home and see his kid and Buck won’t have to break the news that yet another one of his parents has left him.

He prays that this isn’t the last moment they get, that the last words Eddie spoke weren’t words that dragged himself down, weren’t words heavy with self-doubt. He prays that Eddie lives, that he’ll live and they’ll catch the sniper and no one — not Eddie, not Eddie — will die. He prays that the trauma won’t scar them forever.

He prays. Please don’t take him. I love him. I love him.

The moment they arrive at the hospital is a blur. His hands, his arms, his chest are soaked in blood — but he doesn’t care. He follows, footsteps robotic, as they lift Eddie’s limp body onto a stretcher and wheel him into the hospital. Mehta has to pull him back before the doors close on him.

“We can’t go with him, Buckley. They’ll take care of him.”

He nods, numb.

He ends up in a waiting room, sitting in wait while word gets delivered to his team. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, how long it’s been since the bullet cut through Eddie. He doesn’t know who’s calling his team, or who they’re calling, or if they’ll even be able to get there — not with firefighters being targeted.

He’s alone and he’s tired. He spent 30 minutes in the hospital bathroom alone, staring at his bloodstained reflection in the mirror before breaking down, scrubbing at his skin frantically to get it off of him. No matter how much soap, no matter how hard he scrubbed, he can still smell it, he can still taste it, he can still feel it.

Eddie.

All he can do is replay the events over and over again in his mind. Eddie standing in front of him, Eddie getting shot, Eddie stunned, staring back at him, Eddie collapsing, Eddie bleeding out, Eddie’s eyes, Eddie’s life.

Eddie.

Buck doesn’t notice the people milling about the waiting room, doesn’t keep count of the people that come in and the people that leave while he sits there, waiting. He stares at a stray mark on the wall across from him, a small thing, the tiniest imperfection on an otherwise perfectly white, perfectly sterile wall. It’s all he can look at.

“Buck,” A voice calls him, eventually, and he looks up, surprised to see Bobby standing over him.

Logically, he knows that Bobby’s aging, same as the rest of them, wearing down as the years drag by, but Buck’s never noticed it until now. The lines on his face are deep-set and his eyes look just as tired as Buck feels, heavy with emotion. Has he always had grey hair?

“Bobby.” Buck’s voice cracks and he’s lifting himself up and falling into Bobby’s arms before he even processes what’s happening. “Bobby, I tried — I tried — I couldn’t.”

Bobby shushes him, pressing one hand to the back of Buck’s head and holding him close, the other rubbing up and down his back. He holds Buck like that for several minutes, letting him sob into him, his tears soaking the shoulder of Bobby’s shirt.

Eventually they sit again, side by side, slumped against one another.

“Captain Mehta told me you disobeyed direct orders, climbed under the firetruck to get Eddie to safety even while you were under fire,” Bobby says eventually, his voice deceivingly light.

“I had to do it,” Buck looks at him, eyes red, and Bobby hates that this isn’t the first time he’s seen this face on Buck. He saw it when Doug stabbed Chimney, when he took Maddie. He saw it when Eddie cut his line, when he was buried under 30 feet of wet mud and Buck wanted to dig him out by hand. He knows what Buck looks like when he’s terrified of losing someone he loves.

“I know you did, kid.”

They’re quiet again, both staring at that spot on the wall while new patients and nurses move around them.

“How are you doing?” Bobby asks, quietly, and it might be a stupid question — the answer’s pretty clear — but he has to ask. Buck’s next inhale is shaky, and Bobby reaches out to hold his hand.

“I...I watched him die...Cap...I mean I’ve seen — I’ve seen people, you know, die...on the job, plenty of times, but I’ve never…” Bobby nods.

“He’s alive, Buck, and they’re working on him right now — the best doctors. You did everything you could.”

“But was it enough? I mean — if he dies, Bobby...if he dies I don’t...I don’t know what I’ll do.”

And Bobby knows what it’s like to not be able to save the people you love, to feel weighed down by the guilt that you could’ve, should’ve done more. He carries it every day, and now Buck’s going to have to too — at least for a while, until they know Eddie’s status.

“The idea of losing someone you love,” Bobby begins, looking over at Buck. “It’s scary. It’s the scariest thing in the world. You can never really imagine what it would be like until you live it. You have to face the idea that you might have to live a life without them — and you can’t.”

“I don’t want to do this without him,” Buck says, voice shaking. “I can’t do this without him. He’s my best friend, my partner, my — I don’t. We’re supposed to do this together, Bobby...how am I supposed to tell Christopher that I let his dad die?”

Bobby presses his lips together and nods.

“For now, you tell him the truth. His dad was hurt on the job but they’re working on him. When we know, he’ll know, but for now...Look, Buck, Eddie trusts you with Chris more than anyone and Christopher loves you. You might not be his dad but you’re the closest thing he has right now. So you do what you always do; you love him and you support him. That’s all you can do.”

Buck nods and rubs at his eyes. When he drops his hand back down into his lap he sees the dried blood, caked under his fingernails, and he feels the threat of vomit rise up in him again.

“I think you should go home for a bit —” Buck starts to protest. “Just an hour, or two. Get cleaned up, get into some new clothes, go talk to Christopher. We’re not going to have any more news on Eddie for a while, so, just go and take care of yourself so you can be here when we do.”

Buck wants to argue, but his shirt is caked with blood and it’s uncomfortable, and it smells. And the longer he sits in this waiting room the further he loses himself in this spiral of Eddie Eddie Eddie. And someone has to tell Christopher that his dad’s not coming home tonight.

And it has to be him.

So he gets up, forces a weak smile at Bobby, and drags himself out of the hospital.

It has to be him.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

“i can’t lose you too”

prompt: “i can’t lose you too” (alt no.2)

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

hi here is Another eddie fic. its set at some point after shannons death and the lawsuit but idk when. use ur imagination i guess :)

Buck’s running back into the burning building before Eddie can even reach out and touch him, stop him. One second he’s next to Eddie and Bobby, surveying the flames, and the next there’s the sound of a scream from inside the house, and Buck’s taking off. 

Without even thinking, Eddie moves to follow him, but he’s stopped by Bobby’s firm hand on his shoulder. He knows he could shrug him off, chase after Buck, but there’s something in the way Bobby’s grabbing him that stops him from moving.

He watches, stock-still, as Buck reenters the building, which moments ago the team had vacated due to its being too unstable. And Eddie knows, knows, he’d do the same thing Buck is doing now, hell, he would be doing it, were it not for Bobby holding him back with that firm grip that screams something is wrong. 

“You are not following him,” Bobby says, at the same time that he pushes the button on his radio. 

“Buck, get out of there, now,” he instructs, and his voice is forceful but there’s a note of fear underlying it that makes Eddie’s blood run cold. Bobby’s hand clamps down harder on his shoulder, almost painful now. 

“Don’t,” he instructs, leaving no room for argument.

Buck’s voice comes back through the radio, slightly garbled. “Almost got her,” Eddie manages to make out. He breathes a sigh of relief, feels Bobby’s hand relax slightly from his shoulder. Maybe there hadn’t been anything to worry about, maybe he should run in after Buck now, maybe...

The roof of the house caves in with a deafening crash that leaves an eerie silence in its wake. No one speaks, no one moves, for one single second, and then everyone is moving into action, and all Eddie can think is not him too. Buck can’t be dead.

He tries his own radio, calling out to Buck, but gets no reply. All around him other firefighters are moving, and even Bobby’s in action, leaving Eddie to do whatsoever he pleases, but Eddie doesn’t do anything. He feels frozen. He feels helpless. He can’t lose Buck. 

He can’t move. He stares at the ground and tries to not think about Buck trapped or hurt or dead. He tries not to think about Shannon, about her blood on the concrete and the way it had felt to know that someone he loved was dying. 

It is happening again. He still can’t move. 

And then, there’s a shout, and he forces his eyes up. For a second, he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. But there he is - Buck, stumbling out of the ruins of the building, an unconscious woman thrown over his shoulder, alive. 

Eddie watches like he is outside of everything as Buck carries the woman to Hen and Chim, who are prepped with a gurney. He watches Buck remove his helmet, looking sweaty and sooty but otherwise completely fine. 

He sees Bobby approach Buck, sees the two hug, sees Bobby smack Buck lightly on the back of the head. He sees Hen and Chim climb into the ambulance with the woman, sees Bobby gesture at it and Buck shake his head. 

He still feels like he can’t move. 

And then he sees Buck look around, meets his eyes through the visor of his own still-on helmet, and feels his eyes fill unwittingly with tears. He tears his gaze away, forces his feet to finally move, but away from Buck, until he’s hidden in the shadow of the truck. 

A moment later, Buck approaches him, and he really does look so alright that Eddie damn near collapses in relief. 

—

Buck follows Eddie behind the truck, curiosity overtaking the adrenaline that’s slowly stopping its relentless course through his veins. His mind is going a mile a minute, wondering why Eddie’s apparently hiding from him, rather than maybe congratulating him on his epic rescue or berating him for not waiting for Eddie to come along, or something, anyway. 

He steps into the shadow of the truck, sees Eddie’s head raise to look at him, sees him stumble backwards until he collides with the side of the truck. 

“Whoa, you good?” Buck asks, hurrying to his best friend’s side. He tries to reach out and place a steadying hand on Eddie’s shoulder, but Eddie pulls away. 

“Hey,” Buck says, his voice now all seriousness. “Eddie. What’s wrong?”

Eddie isn’t looking at him. His face is turned away towards the ground, and his helmet is still on his head, like he’s just forgotten to take it off, which isn’t like him. Something’s wrong.

“Eddie,” Buck repeats, stepping closer. “Eddie.”

Very carefully, he reaches up and removes Eddie’s helmet, looking for the first time at his face. 

It’s hard, lips drawn thin and eyes steely like he’s angry, or concentrating really hard on something that he doesn’t want to be concentrating so hard on. “Eddie,” he says again, for what feels like the millionth time. “What’s wrong?”

And then Eddie’s face isn’t all hard and drawn. It’s scrunched up and has the look of someone trying - and failing - to keep themself controlled. And he’s crying. It takes Buck a second to process that, and as soon as he does, he feels worry rush through him. Eddie doesn’t cry. 

He’s already standing pretty close to Eddie, but he steps closer still, until their bodies are nearly touching. 

“Please, Eddie,” he says. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Eddie breathes in a shuddery inhale, sniffles, and wipes a hand under his eyes that doesn’t do much of anything as his tears continue to fall. Part of Buck wants to reach out and brush them away, to touch Eddie, to let him know he’s not alone in whatever this is. 

Not that he’d do that now, bring this whole new thing into their relationship when it’s clear there’s something that’s not right. 

“I-” Eddie starts, then stops, breath heaving. 

“It’s okay,” Buck says, as comfortingly as he can. “Nice and slow, yeah?”

Eddie nods, and then speaks, his voice as soft and as scared as Buck has ever heard it. 

“You went back in there. You went back and I couldn’t follow you and then the roof collapsed and then you were just...you were just gone. And I couldn’t move and I thought you must be dead and I can’t - you can’t die, Buck, I can’t lose you too.”

Eddie leans his head back against the truck when he’s finished speaking, and this time Buck doesn’t stop himself. He puts a hand out, touches it to Eddie’s cheek, presses their foreheads together, and for a second just breathes, hoping like hell Eddie won’t shove him off. 

He doesn’t, so Buck takes that as his cue to speak. “You’re not losing me, Eddie,” he says, and he wants it to be a promise, but it’s one he knows he can’t make. 

“You don’t know that,” Eddie whispers. “You don’t…”

“I know I can’t make any promises,” Buck agrees, voice equally soft. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try my hardest to stay with you.”

For a second after that, neither of them speaks. Buck listens to Eddie’s breathing, hearing it slowly even out. Their foreheads are still pressed together, and Buck’s hand is still on Eddie’s cheek, and he can feel that they’re on the edge of something. 

He pulls back just a bit, looking at Eddie. He’s sweaty and tearstained and there’s this look on his face that Buck thinks he would do anything to banish forever, but despite all of that Eddie looks beautiful. He looks like something that Buck, too, can’t lose. 

So he says it, pushes himself off that edge. “Listen, Eddie. We both know I can’t make any promises. I can’t swear that I’ll stay by your side forever. You can’t swear you’ll stay by mine. But that doesn’t make us any less real. It doesn’t make us weaker. I think...I think maybe it makes us stronger, you know? Knowing what we could lose, fighting to never lose it. I am not letting you lose me that easily. I’m not letting Chris lose me that easily. I’m not leaving you if I can help it.”

He takes a breath, meets Eddie’s eyes, wonders if he needs to say it. 

“I love you,” Eddie says, and he looks down, away from Buck, like he’s not sure Buck’s gonna say it back. 

Buck gently grabs Eddie’s chin, guiding his head up so they’re looking at each other again. He looks into Eddie’s eyes and smiles, sees the ghost of a smile appear on Eddie’s own face.

“I love you too, Eddie. And that is something I can promise will never change.”

hope you liked this! i feel like i am getting repetitive with this kinda story but oh well. my fic my rules yadda yadda. but yeah thanks so much for reading! hope you enjoyed even if it was repetitive :)

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm (Part 60)

Part 60 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 3295 Warnings: Language, arguing, sickly Tony, endgame plot Song for this part: Dark Paradise- Lana Del Rey Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​​ what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Once Tony got settled in, you came into his room. Steve looked up to see who had entered. He nudged Rhodey slightly and nodded toward you. The two of them swept past you and out of the room, leaving only you, Shannon, and Tony. 

“Hey, Tony,” you greeted softly as you stepped in, nervously fidgeting with your hands. 

“Hey, kid,” he greeted. “Where’s Reindeer games?” he asked. 

Your throat closed as you frowned, tears welling in your eyes before you glanced away. 

Shannon leaned forward slightly on the bed, squeezing his hand. “Tony, he..” she started, glancing to you. “He’s one of the vanished,” she finished. 

Tony glanced to you, sympathy in his eyes. “Shit, my bad. I… Sorry,” he mumbled. 

You took a deep breath and turned back to him, trying to move past the pain to ask what you needed to know. “Tony, I was wondering… Well.. I know Shannon said you went after Stephen on the spaceship. Did he..um…” 

“He vanished too. I’m sorry,” he informed, sympathy in his voice. 

All you could do was bite your lip and nod before you started to sob. You didn’t want them to see you like this, but there was no time to hold in the pain. 

Shannon quickly jumped up to hug you tightly. 

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” she offered. She thought maybe Tony would tell you of his final moments or something. Tony and you had become quite close during and after the Accords. 

Once the door shut to the room, you took a seat next to his bed, the opposite side of where Shannon had been. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked gently. 

“Better, now that I’m on Earth. But forget me. I’m alive. Shannon filled me in on what happened in Wakanda. She hadn’t gotten to...Loki.” 

“It’s fine,” you assured, shaking your head slightly. “So did uh… did Stephen say anything before...” That was all you could get out. Losing Loki was hard enough, but to start to relive another friend’s death was torment. 

“Well, Dr. Strange ultimately gave up the time stone to save me, which frankly I didn’t see why he would have, but right before all of that happened, he did say that out of all the outcomes there was only one where we win.” He stopped to get a drink of water. “Giving up the stone might have been part of the plan..I-I’m still not quite sure.”

For a moment, you frowned. “Stephen… gave the time stone up to… save you? That doesn’t sound like him,” you assessed.

“I’m not even sure if it was for my sake really, there must be more as to why he did that.” Tony shrugged, scratching himself. “You knew him well enough. Would he willingly give something up for the sake of something bigger?”

“I know he would,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. “I’m not saying your life isn’t worth a great deal, Tony. You mean a lot to a lot of people, including me. But I know Stephen, at least, I like to think I do. I don’t think he would’ve given it up if it weren't of vital importance. Did he say or do anything else?” 

“After he gave up the stone, Thanos left through the portal he had created and then Pet--the kid said he didn't feel so good and then became dust in my arms.” Tony got quiet for a bit focusing on not letting his voice quiver. “And the only thing that Stephen said was ‘We’re in the endgame now’ and then vanished… But about Wakanda, what did you see? Were you with Loki when it happened or…?” He looked up to you. “Did he get to say anything before disappearing?

You bit your lip again, hoping you wouldn’t break the skin to keep from crying. But at this point, it didn’t matter. You let the tears fall freely, talking with a thick voice. “He, uh… He was trying to tell me that he loved me. I kept talking, asking him what was so important right now during the battle that couldn’t wait. I wish I would’ve just shut my mouth...” You hung your head and shook it, the pain becoming overbearing. “He...we were right next to each other. I should’ve been watching Vision. It should’ve been me, not Wanda. I was stuck on the field protecting... Well… everyone. When Thanos came, I could’ve stopped him I could’ve--” You cut your speech short, trying not to get wrapped up in the anger of it all. Tony had asked you about Loki, you needed to focus on that. Not Thanos. “Loki asked me… or he tried to ask me to … He tried to ask me to marry him. He was cut short because of the snap but he got enough out for me to make it out.” With that, you finally looked up to Tony with red, puffy eyes. You hadn’t told a soul, for fear it would rip you apart. 

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry to hear that. I know how much you and Reindeer Games loved each other. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this alone. I hope Shannon has been there to console you during this time.” He stopped and he patted the spot next to him. You immediately left your chair and sat next to him on the bed. “I know there’s not much we know now but I will promise you this if there’s even a remote chance I can find a way to bring everyone back or even just him, I will okay?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you close.

You nodded fervently, resting your head on his shoulder. “We’ve come a long way since New York, haven’t we?” You slightly laughed. “The worst part is… I didn’t even get to say yes.” And that was it -- the true floodgates opened and you were violently sobbing to the point of him just holding you close. Tony had lost a lot too. He’d lost Peter. He lost members of the Avengers. But he at least still had Shannon and Rhodey and others he cherished, and he knew this. 

For you though, he knew you’d lost a great deal more. 

-------------------------------

By the next morning, everyone met to reconvene to discuss things. Rhodey told everyone it’d been 23 days since the snap, and that Natsha had confirmed by the remaining governments that half of all life had been wiped out. 

“Where is he now? Where?” Tony demanded as he sat at the table, hooked up to his IV in a robe. He still looked like shit but at least he had some fight back. Last night he seemed almost delirious. 

You stood in the room with everyone, nothing to say, nothing to add. You just wanted… well you weren’t sure what you wanted. You just needed to hear maybe what had happened. Maybe what had happened with Strange. Maybe there would be a clue on how to get them back. 

“We don’t know. He just opened a portal and walked through,” Steve informed and those words sent a sad rage through you. 

Tony turned and saw Thor. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked. 

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?” Rocket answered. 

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear,” Tony sarcastically said looking at the creature.

Dejectedly, Rocket said, “Maybe I am.”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him,” Steve stated.

“Who told you that?” He looked over at Cap, surprised. “I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. That's what happened. There was no fight.” Tony retorted beginning to get upset.

He nodded, understanding that Tony was upset. “Okay.”

“He's unbeatable,” he replied dejectedly.

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Steve pried, hoping to get Tony to focus up and provide something they could use.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it.” He looked off to remember from long ago. “ Thought I was dreaming.”

“Tony, I'm gonna need you to focus,” Steve urged, desperate to find Thanos.

Seethingly, he looked up at Steve “And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?”  Tony stood, pushing things off the table with a clatter. Everyone winced at the loud noise. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse—” he stopped and began to walk towards Steve. Rhodey quickly came in front of him, trying to stop him.

Rhodey stopped him, cautioning him, “Tony, Tony, Tony!”

“Alive and otherwise, what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-- that's what we needed!” His voice was getting louder as he reminded the super soldier of what he had said before.

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve argued, becoming angry and upset himself.

Clearly, he said, “I said, ‘We'll lose’. You said, ‘We'll do that together too.’ And guess what, Cap?” He stopped for a moment  and pointed at Steve. “We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Okay,” Rhodey tried, holding Tony upright and away from Steve.

“Right?” Tony asked again.

“You made your point. Just sit down,” Rhodey all but begged, wanting this nastiness to be over.

“Okay…”

“Okay?” he asked, unsure if Tony would actually listen.

 Shaking his head Tony responds “Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?” 

“Tony, you're sick,” Rhodey reminded.

“She's great, by the way.” Tony points to Carol on the other side of the room.

“Sit down. Sit,” Rhodey ordered.

“We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” Tony walked right up to Steve's face, his voice hushing down to a venomous whisper. “I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” At that same moment, Tony grabbed at his chest, ripping the nanotechnology arc reactor off his chest. He placed it in Steve’s hand. “Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

After all that fighting, Tony fell to the ground. Steve and Shannon were by his side and everyone is starting to gather around him.

“Tony!” Steve said with concern as Tony fell down.

“I'm fine. I…” Tony managed to get out before collapsing and being rendered unconscious.

Everyone in the room made a move towards him, quickly getting him to a bed.

Moments later, Tony was resting in the room nearby, with Shannon at his side. From that point on he would have to be bed ridden until he was back to his normal health. Rhodey walked out of the room, informing everyone, “Bruce gave him a sedative. He's gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“You guys take care of him. And I'll bring him a Xorrian Elixir when I come back,” Carol stated as she started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Nat asked after her.

“To kill Thanos,” she confidently informed. 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, and somewhat offense. Why did she think she was capable?

“Hey, you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile,” Natasha explained.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too,” Steve reminded.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey asked.

“I know people who might.”

“Don’t bother,” Nebula suddenly said from behind everyone. She stood in the doorway. “I can tell you where Thanos is.” 

You turned to face her, emotions returning to your body very quickly. You were blinded by rage in an instant. All you’d wanted since Loki disappeared was to find Thanos, use the stones, and kill him. That was it. And she held the key to it all and she’d withheld it for twenty-four hours.

She led everyone into a room with a holographic map. She and Rocket explained where he was and how to get there. 

Everyone was in disbelief. You’d all been waiting for this, having no idea the chance to go after him would come so soon. 

“We’d be going in short handed, you know,” Bruce reminded uneasily.

Rhody chimed in, “Look he still has the stones, so....”

“So let’s go get him… Use them to bring everyone back,” Carol added in. 

“Just like that?” Rhodey asked. 

“Yeah just like that,” Steve affirmed. 

Natasha added, “Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this... I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.” A pang of heartache hit your chest at her words. 

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asked desperately. 

“Because before, you didn't have me,” Carol answered. 

“Not to mention I’ll be offense, instead of defense. Thor and I made mistakes. We can right them this time,” you answered. “This is our one shot, and I think every soul in this room is ready to give it everything they’ve got,” you reminded ominously. 

Thor walked up and called stormbreaker, right next to Carol’s body, judging her, sizing her up. She didn’t even blink at the gesture. “I like this one,” Thor announced before he smiled. 

In one sense you felt somewhat proud of this new Carol Danvers for winning Thor over. In another sense, it almost made you feel like she was replacing you. You and Thor used to have a special bond. Now, it appeared that bond would belong to them. 

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” Steve said as he glanced to all of you. 

Steve rallied the troops as you all agreed to go after this bastard and bring everyone back. Everyone talked about how they would approach, how they would attack, who would hit where. This time, you weren’t a quiet pawn sitting in a field. You were one of the heavy hitters, using every resource they had. 

All of you boarded the ship, and set navigation for “The Garden” as Nebula referred to it. Once outside of the planet, Carol said she’d head down for recon. When she got back, she said that there was no army or defense, it was just him. 

“And that’s enough,” Nebula said and you almost wanted to say, ‘You can say that again’ but you refrained. 

You shared a look of worry with Shannon before she squeezed your hand. The two of you knew this could just make everything so much worse. But you both had that small flame of hope that maybe… it could make everything better. In a few moments, maybe you’d have Loki back.

That was enough to ignite your heart. 

All of you invaded the atmosphere, but slowly, deliberately. Surprise was the absolute key. 

Carol was the first to invade. She flew in through the roof, knocking Thanos down, and grabbing his neck. Bruce in the Hulkbuster armor burst from the ground, and grabbed Thanos' Infinity Gauntlet arm. That’s when it was your turn to burst in. You used your dark, purple powers to keep his arm held down, away from his body and kept the gauntlet from closing or snapping. You used your electrical part of your powers from your other hand to keep Thanos subdued in an amount of pain that wouldn’t kill him, but at least disable him. Then Thor came flying in, and chopped off his arm. 

Hearing him scream from pain was probably the absolute best sound you’d ever heard in your life. 

Rocket turned over the gauntlet, and gasped, “Oh no.” 

You glanced down to see why he was upset and when you saw the stones were missing, you were livid. 

“Where are they?” Steve demanded. 

You tried to keep your cool. You knew you couldn’t lose it. You absolutely could not afford to lose it. But you wanted to, so badly. You wanted to just snap and kill him. But you had to know where the stones were. 

“Answer the question,” Carol ordered as she tightened her grip on him. 

Your hands glowed with your magic as you released it in a threat to hurt him further if he didn’t give you what you wanted. Tears were streaking down your face before you even knew it. 

“The universe required correction. After that, the stones served no purpose, beyond temptation,” Thanos answered and you curled your lip in disgust and heartbreak. 

“You murdered trillions!” Bruce yelled, lashing out and pushing Thanos. 

“You should be grateful,” Thanos responded. 

“Grateful is what you’ll be when I give you a swift death,” you promised darkly as you stepped forward. You supercharged your power and poured it into him. He began to cry out from each of your three powers going into him. “Where are the stones?!” you nearly screamed. 

“Gone!” he answered, barely able to speak from the pain. “Reduced to atoms.” 

“You used them two days ago!” Bruce said. 

Shannon put a hand on your shoulder, signaling you to ease up on him. Despite everything telling you not to, your head still had some logic and you knew if you wanted answers you needed to let him breathe. 

Once he resituated, he replied, “I used the stones to destroy the stones. It nearly killed me. But the work is done. It always will be. I am...inevitable.” 

The news of this hit you harder than the initial snap. This was your one shot. This was the sign of hope that everything would be okay. He’d taken that away from you… again… for the last time.

“We have to tear this place apart. He-he-he- has to be lying,” Rhodey tried desperately. You agreed with Rhodey. 

“My father is many things. A liar is not one of them,” Nebula remarked as she stood off to the shadows slightly. 

“Ah, thank you, daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly.” 

You and Thor exchanged a look. If he wasn’t lying, then he was of no use. 

You used all of your dark energy to force every one of Thanos’s limbs outright, making him levitate in the air, almost as if he were a star, each limb facing a different direction. The kinetic charge energy, you used to heat Thanos up internally, so that he felt as if he were being boiled alive. Thor swung his ax quickly, and he lobbed off Thanos’s head. 

From the time you’d begun to the time Thor ended it, it was all only a matter of a few seconds, no time to allow anyone to properly respond. In tandem, without saying a word, you and Thor had righted the wrong that had been done to Loki and trillions of others -- a fault that should’ve never happened to begin with.

“What...what did you do?” Rocket asked, desperation and shock in his tone. 

“I went for the head,” Thor answered before he glanced at you for a final time, a look of almost… forgiveness, respect, gratitude, sorrow, and closure all rolled into one was nestled in his eyes. 

Your eyes found Shannon’s full of torment and grief before you walked out of the hut, completely in a daze… completely lost as to what to do in your life now.  

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