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lamalefix · 3 years

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A whisper of smoke 5/5

[Buddie fic; Heavy Angst; Angst with a Happy Ending; Hurt/Comfort; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Established Relationship; Major Character Injury; Blood and Injury; Eddie’s POV; I don’t know how to English; I Don’t Even Know how to tag; I don’t even know why; Author.exe has stopped working]

now part of a series

read ch1; ch2; ch3; ch4

[read this work on ao3]

Eddie has always been good at bottling emotions and putting them away, in am airlocked room with the “deal with it later” label on, when that “later” never arrives, not until the room is saturated and the door threatens to give in.

In recent months he has given himself little time to think, he had to bottle everything and put everything in his airlock: first for Christopher, not to let him sink with him and with his bad mood, not that it was easy, and more than once he found himself wobbling, the weight of the situation upon him that pressed and pressed and pressed and took his breath away. So, he built new, tight routines, made of hospital rooms and doctors, work, appointments with Frank to dispel some of that fog in the airlock, as well as taking care of Christopher and make sure that this thing, this huge, weighting thing that was happening to them didn’t take away all that they had.

But now that the finish line is near, now that it’s all a little quieter and that future is now palpable between in his fingers, and he’s on his way to where he wants to be, all the things he bottled up are now pressing against the airlocked door. Frank helps, ever so cryptic, Christopher helps with his beaming smile, and Buck, Buck who’s simply there, awake and talking, always looking and waiting for him every single day, helps. Even his parents help, in their own way, when they don’t question his educational choices with his son or on his life choices, in general.

And maybe it’s because he’s happy now, happier, because he finally sees the light at the end of the tunnel, he finally sees the finish line and it’s almost where he wants to be, with his beautiful and smart kid, next to Buck for the rest of his life, that the door, always well closed, is giving in.

It started with a nightmare, one night he wouldn’t know how long ago, but now it’s all more present, heavier, more urgent. Because now he’s finally lowering his defences, something that before he couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t let go. And this thing that eats away at his eyes and eats his days, it sticks to him like a bad habit. It’s the distant, familiar hissing of the smoke, just before the explosion, just before Buck was torn from him, trapped under that house, in that hell of flames and ashes.

It smells like smoke, that night, in his nightmare it doesn’t even look like a ton, it’s just the smell of something, even a piece of paper, burning. And he has the clear feeling of the wind sweeping on his face the dust and dirt, the temperature rising.

And before he can react, can run to the burning house that collapses piece by piece, Buck’s voice echoing mechanically in his head, he wakes up.

And it takes a moment to remember.

Just to remember that the bed is only temporarily empty and cold, that Buck will soon, very soon, as soon as the doctors decide he can be discharged, he’ll come home, and he shouldn’t feel so… broken. He really shouldn’t but─

His blood is pounding in his ears as his heart is pounding in his chest. Between his trembling fingers he holds the sheet while his feet tingle.

Clouded by a sleep that hasn’t been at all restful and by a nightmare that has taken his breath away, his head needs another moment to realize that that uncomfortable feeling that now hangs on his chest like a boulder, the heart throbbing and the sight blurring as if looking at the room through a strange wide angle, is something he already knew. Something that has accompanied him for a long time. And that sometimes hurts more than a heart attack.

It’s panic, plain and simple.

But as usual he decides to bottle all this and label it as “having a moment”, and closes again the door of his airlocked room.

It’s one in a long line of nightmares, which usually only take his sleep away when he’s at home, and not when he’s at the station, alert, ready for a call.

He’s gotten pretty good at covering up even in front of Frank’s expert eye, little conversations about future plans now that Buck’s coming home soon, about how his parents are spending Christmas with them in Los Angeles, how Christopher decided that Santa Claus still exists, despite all the evidence. He talks about the complicated relationship between Buck and his sister, how he can help them to pacify, him who was about to give up. And he speaks of it lightly, trying to ignore the spectre that awaits him at home at night, or worse, that will appear as soon as he is alone.

This isn’t the time to break, not now, not now that Buck is coming home. He’s just having a moment, he has to bottle it up and close the door and forget. As soon as Buck gets back, everything’s gonna be fine. He has to work, he can’t burden Buck, or his parents or… absolutely not. He just has to get over it and continue. Autopilot and go. So, when he remains alone he plants his fingernails in the palms of his hands and tightens his eyes so hard and tight as not to think, the murmur of the smoke hissing in his ears, the sirens flashing behind his eyelids.

At first he decided it was just a reaction to all the stress, to everything that he and Buck found themselves living, but now it’s like chronic, a bad habit. Before there was that murmur under his skin, that didn’t make him sleep much, that urge to hit things to vent everything that’s crowded in his head in the only way he knows for sure works. But he’s been down that road before, and it doesn’t lead anywhere. And now things have changed, Buck’s getting better every day a bit more and he’s on his way home, and Eddie really doesn’t know what to do, because as soon as he lowers his guard, he’s there on the edge of the cliff, there ready to break.

Then again, it’s not the time. It’s not the time to break. It’s not the time. And in his heart, he knows, as soon as Buck’s out of there, as soon as they’re off those straw yellow walls, he’s gonna get better, and even if he breaks a little bit, Buck’s gonna help him get all his bits back and put them back where they belong. All his things in the right place, the bottles still behind the hermetic door.

Buck has a trained eye, perhaps more than Frank’s, and can recognize the fractures and the tiniest cracks in Eddie’s mask, and as much as he wants to avoid going to Buck’s room and burden him with his bad mood and everything he carries around, he can’t help himself. Now that Buck’s talking, still cheerful even when the day is awfully long and tiring, Eddie can’t force himself not to go. The few times he didn’t visit, he spent over an hour on the phone with him, but that’s not enough. Buck knows, and maybe just because he’s polite and kind doesn’t say it, but he knows Eddie’s broken, and he’s doing everything he can to be strong for both of them. Buck survived hell, a real hell, and back, struggled for months between life and death, and when they were letting him go, he came back with his own strength and he’s getting better, every day he’s a little better, and yet he’s still keeping Eddie afloat, swimming, swimming, and swimming like Dory. And it should be this the time that Eddie is more needed, to make Buck feel better, he shouldn’t be the ballast and take Buck down alongside with him, not like this, not now. He can’t take his son and Buck with him into his abyss, he should at least collect his pieces by himself, close the door of his emotions for good and bottle everything, every single thing. Forget the panic, the terror, the loss. Forget everything. But the only way he can forget and close it, now, is by going to Buck’s and spend time with him. What they call a snake biting its own tail.

He goes to him either before he goes to work or right after, as soon as his shift is over, even when it’s late and he should be home already.

The routine is new and at the same time always the same, he sneaks into the room when he knows for sure that there is no one other than Buck, and climbs the bed and then falls there, with a boisterous poff.

And Buck usually mumbles, if he’s asleep, or laughs breathless if he’s awake, tightening his arm around his shoulders.

It’s the same on Wednesday. After two intense weeks, the entering in December that made people even dumber, that tend to crowd in stores to shop (nothing as scary as Black Friday, but enough to have to free people from under the shelves on a daily basis), his parents, who wander around the house and even judge his choices on the smallest trifles, after a very long weekend, in which materially he could only see Buck via Facetime, and a very heavy meal over at Bobby’s that was their late Thanksgiving dinner, finally that Wednesday he managed to go to recharge his batteries before going to work.

Eddie’s seen a lot of things, a lot of weird things in his life, maybe too much even. Between his time in the army and his work here in Los Angeles, he’s seen a lot of quirks. But this is beyond anything else.

It’s mid-afternoon, when he gets to the hospital and he hears Buck laughing and chirping something at someone or something he describes as adorable, so Eddie thinks it’s Maddie, who again brought him the latest pictures of her baby girl, that Buck can’t wait to meet to become an uncle full-time, especially now that between them, after that half discussion, has returned a tranquillity and complicity that Eddie envies.

But when he turns the corner of the hall, ready to enter the room, he finds Ramon Diaz himself sitting next to Buck’s bed, showing him pictures from his smartphone. His father laughs and tells anecdotes and Buck definitely seems to have the moment of his life.

And Eddie must have suffered a head injury and it must be some kind of hallucination, or he went crazy, that’s all that could have happened at an initial examination. By bottling his problems, he lost his last neurons in the effort, it’s called apoptosis, the process of programmed cell death, or maybe he caused a clot or something. It’s the only reasonable explanation.

When Eddie enters, his father gets up and bids his goodbye to Buck. “I guess that’s my cue, I’ll leave you in good hands”.

“In the best hands, I’d say” Buck quips, shaking his hand. “Say hello to Helena and give Chris a tight hug for me”.

“Will do” Ramon nods, passing next to Eddie and squeezing his hand on his shoulder blade. “Be good” he recommends jokingly before sneaking out the door.

Eddie looks at Buck in disbelief, all busy taking a sip from his straw, and he doesn’t know whether to call himself incredulous or worried about that blow to the head yesterday, a water bottle addressed to Hen that Chim launched with his terrible aim and took him behind the back of the head, which clearly caused real, permanent damage.

“My dad?” that’s all Eddie can mumble, confused.

“What can I say, I’m my usual charming self” Buck jibes, shrugging his shoulders before spreading his arms. “Have you come to recharge your batteries?”

“My Buckeries, yes” he replies by crouching on the bed with the usual noisy poff.

Buck caresses the back of his head with his fingertips and grins. “It seems that Chris and your abuelita did some convincing work on your father who now decided to be supportive and decided to come over here to probe the territory and assess the sincerity of my feelings… and bribe me with some compromising photos of you as a child”.

Eddie snorts, rolling his eyes. “Dios, how inconvenient was it from one to ten?”.

“Well, as a kid, you were pretty adorable… and judging by what he told me, Chris gets his sassiness from you” he murmurs, his tone cheerful, happy.

And Eddie couldn’t ever fathom the idea of Buck and his father getting along. “I mean with my dead, was he… you know?”.

Buck snuggles closer, his fingers carding softly in Eddie’s hair. “Well, he was a bit weird at first. But if you count I had a lame talk with my dad before I met your dad, it ended up smoothly”.

“What a beautiful little shitty day” Eddie growls, looking up at him, to try to understand, only from his eyes, from his expression how much the phone call with his father stuck on him.

“Could have been worse” he says, with his bewitching grin. “At least my dad stopped with the usual litany and convinced himself that you and Chris are good for me, plus now I can snuggle with you for a bit, and that’s somehow turning it perfect”.

“You are a sap” Eddie snorts, but then narrows his eyes. It’s been a long week for Buck, too, with long conversations, not to call them phone fights, with his dad over something he didn’t tell Eddie about, he just knows they’ve been talk-fighting a lot. Buck doesn’t talk much about his family, he hasn’t even given him any details about how he and Maddie figured their argument out, much less about his parents. And in addition to feeding the hospital with his insurance and maybe some donations, the man hasn’t shown up there yet, not to mention the mother who’s never even heard from as far as Eddie knows. “That’s good, then” it’s all that he says, rubbing his cheek against Buck’s neck.

“I wouldn’t be so surprised if, along the way, my dad and yours started playing squash together” Buck murmurs.

Eddie snorts. “I think my dad would play his hip before he played squash”.

“I thought it was my father’s too, but instead…” Buck grumbles and shrugs. “Maybe they’d prefer golf,” he adds. “Or maybe we better not support their friendship, it would be weird”.

Eddie nods softly. “We might as well decide not to really talk about our parents, and ignore their existence for a while in our little bubble for a while, what do you think?”.

“It might be a good idea. Charging our respective batteries and talking about the weather is a viable alternative” Buck mutters tightening his grip on Eddie.

Eddie stays there quietly, eyes half closed. And that thing in his chest, that thing that weighs behind his eyes, those emotions, those negative thoughts all bottled up that are piling up one by one in his airlock, they seem to slowly disappear, while Buck talks softly and tells him about physiotherapy, the last visit he made, new medicines that finally do not leave him a bad mouth, all bitter and dry.

And Eddie is there enjoying the moment, in an almost religious silence, letting himself be lulled by his voice, by his fingers carding in his hair, his breath soft ghosting on his skin.

“What are you doing on Friday?” Buck asks him out of the blue, and Eddie knows he has to exit is daze and answer.

“Friday? The day after tomorrow?” he asks, pulling himself up.

“Yeah, what’s your shift?” he mumbles. “I wanted to know if… I guess it’s a mess so…”.

Eddie closes his eyes. “12 hours. I come in at 9 and I leave at 9”. He doesn’t ask him why, because Buck’s on his way home, and he already knows it’s the last routine visits before he is discharged. Maybe he wants help, maybe he wants company. Buck wanted to manage them himself, all the visits, asking Eddie and Maddie not to be there and both agreed with a certain reluctance: after all he is getting better, and he doesn’t need two bundles of nerves there with him during his visits.

“Ah, okay… no, out of time” he says, then pulling a long sigh and stretching his legs under the covers.

“Evan, if you want I can…” he starts to say. “I can change shift… I can ask Jonathan to…”.

“No, don’t worry. Work is important and then…” Buck murmurs softly. “Don’t worry about it. No problem absolutely”.

“I’ll come tomorrow night and spend the night with you?” he whispers.

“You can’t always sleep here, Eds. You’re going to get arthritis. The bed isn’t that big and you’re all crumpling around me.” he replies. “And every time you leave me here all hard and I have to explain to the nurses that that’s a very very normal, physiologic reaction to my very steaming hot boyfriend”.

Eddie rolls his eyes with a whiff and leans in closer, burrowing in his side. “I’m comfortable like this! and then it will get easier when you’ll be home with me… and I could always help you with that in the bathroom if you want…” he mumbles, and has no time to say no more, or act on that long-awaited quick hand-job in the bathroom, that the alarm clock he set to give himself time to get to the station begins to ring.

“It’s time” Buck says. “I know you want to put your hands in my pants, but you’ll have to wait, mister”.

Eddie rolls his eyes huffing a sigh loudly. “I have to go. I’ll text every time we get back at the station.” he promises and reluctantly rises from bed and begins to recover his things.

“Be careful out there,” he hears him whispering.

With his bag on his shoulder, Eddie smiles and leans over him to put a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight and behave, don’t make too many nurses angry or blush”.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says before he reaches out and steals a kiss from his lips.

The proverbial drop that breaks the camel’s back falls on that Friday night, almost at the end of their shifts. It was a rough day, he didn’t have a moment to call Buck, yet alone to text him, and when he finally managed to carve out those for or five minutes, his phone battery decided to die before he could even make the call, and then the alarm went off again.

Once back, he put the phone in charge and then did his best to lay the table, because he is still banned from the kitchen, and probably will be forever.

By Chim’s great persistent request, the late thanksgiving turkey leftovers had to be transformed into a skewed Mexican fiesta, his words, not Eddie’s.

For the occasion, Eddie’s parents brought their precious help. Complaining about the terrible, horrible, bagged tortillas, his mother set to work kneading them by hand and his father meanwhile shredded his colleagues over at the pinball machine, to Christopher’s immense delight.

But before even sitting around the table, as usual for such special occasions, the alarm went of again.

The scene is weirdly, ominously familiar. It looks like his nightmares, or his memories, or a strange mixture of both.

To be cynical, fires all look a bit alike. Fire that burns, walls that give up, smoke, ashes, heat. It’s all easily traced back to other actions, other interventions, and yet…

Eddie can’t ignore the fact that it’s all weirdly similar to that day. What it’s been repeating for nights in his nightmares and he’s trying his best to ignore. To what’s still etched in his mind every time he closes his eyes and probably will never go away.

They are a backup for the 412, that’s already on the scene.

The fire is huge, and the cloud of white smoke can be seen from miles and miles away, swelling in the black sky. It started to rain recently and the noise of the water pouring from the hydrants almost covers the echo of voices in their walkies.

This one too is neighbourhood that certainly, before the economic crisis, had to be beautiful, flourishing. Rows of two-storey, pastel coloured cottage-like houses now have plaster mangled by time.

In a corner of his visual field, Eddie notices a bunch of kids getting scolded from a fireman, maybe the 412 captain and a cop.

The backdraft must have brought down part of the house, which is already grotesquely bent over. Part of the upper floor collapsed and chomped on the lower. That too was a beautiful house, in a beautiful neighbourhood, before the crisis and that fire.

The roof, failing, scrunched itself taking away part of the frontage.

The smoke, meanwhile, swells and vibrates, whispers in the sky like a disturbing echo, drums in his ears, like an old well-known song, and delivers a shiver along his spine.

There are people shouting, members of 412 increasing the pressure of water on the house that continues to crumble like a cookie overcooked and dunk too long and begins to look more and more like a pile of flames, dust, and debris.

Bobby barks orders that Eddie can’t hear right now. All the oxygen is ripped from his lungs when a rumble comes from the house, when it folds completely and crumples on itself and the rest of the upper floor crushes the one below. The plywood that splatters off with the glass and the soot like bullets and gunpowder.

They have to act quickly; Eddie must get his fucking shit together and start helping.

There’s a trapped firefighter, he can hear on the radio. A trapped fireman just like Buck. He must have been trapped in the house, too. Apparently, he heard someone asking for help.

This time like that other terrible day, the wind rises, and the speed makes the fire widen even more, which now with much more oxygen burns even more intensely. It is always the change of direction of the air currents that influences most, and dangerously, the fire. And that house now more than ever becomes a trap of flames and smoke.

And they all hurry to bring their help. But the fire is fast, in less than thirty seconds a flame can become an immense fire, and it takes only a few minutes for the fire to thicken and blacken and fill the spaces of the house, that ends up engulfed in the flames. And the fire is hot, the heat is much scarier than the flames, and it goes from 100 degrees to 600 like a trifle. Inhaling this superhot air will scorch your lungs and melt clothes to your skin. And the fire is dark, it , starts bright, but it’s a matter of minutes and it produces smoke and with it, complete darkness. Fire is deadly. Smoke and toxic gases kill more people than flames do, fire produces poisonous gases that make you drowsy and disoriented. And then, then there’s asphyxiation.

At best, this firefighter has had more or less the same luck as Buck finding himself in a kind of free zone, and they just have to find his way out, with the oxygen tank and the turnout gear they might still have some hope, some time. Although the house is now a pile of debris, breath of flames and wind. But miracles rarely happen, and they have already had more than one.

And that’s why they have to put maximum power in the hydrants, to give their best.

But when they hear the torn apart scream coming from someone of the 412, everything seems to stop.

Blood pounds in Eddie’s ears. His heart thuds in his chest. He needs a moment to readjust his shaking hands on the hose and to plant his tingling feet better on the ground. Flames, smoke, and his vision disfigures, darkening.

He tries to focus on the fire hose, ignoring the overwhelming sense of dread, or the fact that he somehow just forgot how to fucking breath, while his heartrate escalates quickly.

His mouth is dry, his windpipe closing up.

He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be there. Buck needed him, today, he needed him at the hospital. He wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

There is too much of a risk of someone walking over and notice him.

He clutches the fire hose, his hands wrapped so tightly that his nails dug into his gloves. Breathing is hard, like he’d just run around the world and back, his chest growing tight as bile rises in his throat.

He has to get his fucking shit together and help. No one has to live what he and Buck endured, but he can’t do a single thing, with his head spinning, dizziness taking the upper hand and his stomach churning.

And again, like that other time, like when Buck was trapped in that burning hell, he feels detached from the situation, it’s like looking at himself from an external point of view.

It’s unreal.

For another couple of minutes, it’s unreal.

Until they finally take that fireman out of what’s left of the house on a gurney, his face covered with a blanket. And Eddie has to focus on something else, his eyes glued on the smoking debris, trying to ignore the pain raising in his chest and the dizziness, as the 412 ambulance moves slowly, surrounded by the crew. He has to remember that Buck is almost home. Just that.

It takes them half an hour to put out the remaining fire, and by the time they hop back on the truck, it’s almost midnight.

No one is talking all the ride back to the station. It’s usually like this when a crew loses a member, but there’s something else in the air.

Eddie’s in the locker room, still feeling a little dazed, battered, tired, even after the shower, breath still struggling to normalize. He looks at his now charged phone and knows he can’t call Buck tonight, it’s already late and he’s probably already asleep, and yet he needed to see him or at least hear his voice.

“You’re seeing too many similarities, let me tell you” Chim grumbles, as the two paramedics enter the locker room, once they get back to the station, after fixing the ambulance for the next shift.

“Or maybe you don’t want to see…” Hen protests, fiddling with her locker, to retrieve a spare T-shirt and a towel, ready to head to the showers.

“No idea you were such a conspiracy maniac,” Chim shrugs his shoulders. “I was the one with the stalking crow”.

And she snorts loudly. “I’m just saying that I think they’re connected,” she states. “Think about it. A fire in a neighbourhood like this, in an empty house, the cop said there were kids there too… then add that the one of the 412 crew members said that they heard someone call for help before getting trapped…” Hen numbers and then she stops. “Sounds like a pattern to me”.

“Plotter,” Chim retorts. “Cap, what do you think?”.

“I don’t think it’s a pattern,” says the captain, shrugging his shoulders. “As different as they are, fires that break out in similar situations have more or less the same pattern,”.

“Exactly what I say, better expressed, but that’s what I say.” Chim replies. “What do you say, Eddie?”.

But he doesn’t say anything.

“But if they’ve heard someone… it just seems…” Hen continues to say.

“I’m sure the fire inspectors will evaluate everything and eventually contact us if necessary,” Bobby replies. “I know when Buck got better and could talk, they heard him anyway, but it’s standard procedure. As we had to do, in the days following his accident”.

“Eddie?” Bobby calls him. “A word?”.

And Eddie sighs in the hurry to lace his shoes and then follows Bobby out of the locker room. Bobby knows, maybe not as well as Buck, the small fractures in his mask, he knows that somewhere there is a deeper crack, and the mask would crumble entirely.

“Are you all right?” he asks as soon as they are alone. “Is Buck… you know?”.

Eddie looks at him, a certain confusion that clouds his sight. “Yes. He is good, I know you went to visit him”.

Bobby lets slip a deaf laugh. “It took a bit of courage, but the alternative was to get kicked in the ass by Athena. I don’t like to see him there”.

“And think he’s better now,” adds Eddie, the voice stricter than he actually wants.

“I know, I realize. Look… If you had to clock off hours ago, why don’t you take a day off tomorrow and be with him?” Bobby suggests, his voice gentle.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. Going to Buck’s could help him feel a bit better, or he could drop his mask completely and he can’t afford to be seen cracked, shattered, broken. He can’t lose Buck; he has to take some time and think. “A few hours will do” he says, “Maybe I’ll come in a bit late and…”.

“Take the day off, I insist. Surely you also noticed the same similarities Hen noticed” adds Bobby squeezing a hand on his shoulder. “And before you ask, I’m telling you to stay with Buck because you’ve been looking like a ghost for days, and today has certainly been hard for everyone… but Buck will do you good. Take a day and stay with him, sometimes the people we love can bring peace in our hearts”.

Eddie grits his teeth, tightens his jaw and nods. “I will take advantage of it,” he says before heading to his truck and returning home, a tiredness that takes his breath away and weighs him down like a boulder, as soon as he is alone.

When he arrives at home that night, he is somewhat reassured by the fact that the lights are off and he will not have to undergo a further grilling by his father, who lately weighs his life choices with increasing vehemence. The only light on is the little night light on Chris' nightstand and the one in his bedroom, that is always on when he gets home late.

And it’s like a lighthouse, a harbour to go back to, and so he slips into his son’s bedroom and the weight on his shoulders suddenly disappears.

He has to hold on a bit more. It’ll get better. He repeats himself slowly in his head until his breath completely normalizes and is almost at the point of falling asleep, right then and there, sitting on the ground, near Chris’s bed.

And maybe because his son is a perfect child, or maybe because he has some strange sixth sense, when he moves and just stretches out in bed and opens one eye and then another, he smiles at him, with his sleepy but dazzling smile, and everything seems to disappear.

“You’re back,” he says in his tiny, adorable voice, kneaded by sleep.

“Always” Eddie murmurs under his breath. “You should sleep, you know?”.

“I can stay awake. No school tomorrow… already done all the weekend homework” he snorts and sits up. “So we go to the planetarium with abuelo”.

“And then you’ll get tired… It’s late…” Eddie murmurs, feigning a peremptory tone, which cannot actually slip out of his mouth, in all honesty.

Chris rolls his eyes pursing his lips “I don’t get tired! It’s the planetarium. I learn all the important things! So then when we go with Bucky I’ll teach him!”.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie mumbles, stretching a smile.

“You look like you’re having a bad day,” Chris says, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll take you to bed? I’ll tuck you in!”.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie mumbles, stretching a smile.

“You have the bad-day face” Chris says, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll take you to your bed. I’ll tuck you in!”.

Eddie is taken aback. His son, his marvellous, funny, smart and perceptive son, reads right through him as an open book.

“Daddy” he says softly. “Are you sad?”.

He clenches his jaw. “I’m just a bit tired, it was a long day, and I couldn’t eat your abuela’s cooking”.

“So, you are hungry! Make a sandwich? Abuela took a plate of leftovers for you” he suggests before yawning.

“Nah, I think I’m going straight to bed, you should sleep too, it’s a big day tomorrow” he murmurs.

“Hugs can help. Like we do with Bucky!” Chris asks with his tiny and bright smile, stretching his arms wide open.

“Always” he leans in and sighs softly, in a slight contentment, when his kid’s vanilla and strawberry shampoo hits his nostrils. It helps, it always helped. “I love you buddy, sleep tight”.

“I can come with you, I can tuck you in” his kid says. “You always do that for me”.

“That’s a dad’s job, you know? One of my favourites, really” Eddie says.

Chris moves, pulls the covers aside and gets out of bed with some effort, but without asking for help, when his bare feet touch the floor he mutters something under his breath, and then he reaches his hand out to his dad. And Eddie can’t even describe how he feels right now, he doesn’t have enough words to assess the magnificence of his son.

They walk quietly to Eddie’s bedroom, not to wake his parents and most of all, not to explain why his kid is awake so late.

The light on Eddie’s bedside table is still on, it’s always on when he works late, when Chris opens the door, the wonderful smile he beams to his dad, is breath-taking. “Surprise!” he says, not so loud, but enough to reveal all the joy and excitement.

And it takes Eddie a moment to fully function again. He looks over at the bed and he sees Buck and it’s like a mirage.

There’s Buck, awake in his, their?, bed. A book on his lap and a stupid goofy smile on his face when he looks up at Eddie. “Hey there, honey”.

And Chris giggles.

“Too much?” Buck asks Chris with a smirk.

The kid nods. “You sound like Maya’s grandma”.

And Buck snorts. “Hey! I’m not that old!” he retorts softly. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping by now, mister?”.

“Yes! But I wanted to see daddy’s face” Chris says. “He was sad before”.

Eddie wouldn’t know how he feels now, or at least he can’t put it into words. But happy is certainly not a concept big enough to describe what he feels.

“It was a long day for daddy. But his face surely is priceless, you are right” Buck says moving out of the bed with enough fluidity he doesn’t even look like someone who was literally discharged from the hospital today. “Let’s get you back in bed and let daddy take another shower, he is smoke-smelly” he adds, kissing Eddie’s cheek.

But Eddie stays there like a pillar of salt for a fraction of seconds, and then, out of muscle memory, he tags along, practically jumping back in the corridor. He watches Evan walk slowly, limping a bit, a hand on Christopher’s back. They talk under their breaths, and Eddie’s never seen his kid smiling like that in a long time.

Once in bed, it takes Chris like a couple of minutes to fall asleep again, his breath got measured and deeper, while he was still talking about what he’s gonna do tomorrow at the planetarium, and Eddie looks at him, and he could swear that he’s in full, best shape right now. Buck tucks Chris in and Eddie watches quietly, before heading back to the bedroom that for the first time, across the dark hallway seems finally cosy.

His room is no longer empty, dark, perhaps still a bit too neat and without any personality, but the bed is all undone, Buck tends to roll up in the blankets and must have been there a lot, since even on Eddie’s side of the sheet is all ruffled, a burgundy duffel bag laid on the ground near the closet, the clothes rolled over with little grace.

Eddie would say a lot of things, but his emotions are both strong and devastating. Buck is at home, at home with him, his fingers intertwined with his own, and he has no trouble imagining them, in a while in that bed, his moans muffled in the hollow of Buck’s neck. He can’t say anything until his mind is clear enough to be able to connect two thoughts in a row, but then he gives in and abandons himself against Buck. A hug that means more than just happiness. He’s so happy as his thoughts go, his mind a blank page for a moment, he’s so happy as Buck pulls him in and whispers something against his ear, something that sounds “fuck the shower”, and he’s so happy when, with a weak yelp, they find themselves on the mattress that bounces under them with a tiny, little squeal of springs.

Eddie remembers that, until proven otherwise, he knows how to speak when Buck starts to blow light kisses against the edge of his forehead, as if to draw a crown.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with a little voice.

“I wanted to surprise you, your face just now was priceless, error 404 page not found… A classic.” Buck mumbles as he barely moves and loosens his hug to settle with his back against the headboard of the bed. “Come, I’ll let you recharge all your Buckeries”.

“That’s what you were talking to my dad about the other day?” Eddie mutters, kicking off his shoes and then knee-butting the mattress until he reaches Buck’s side and crouches against him.

Buck starts to caress his hair slowly with the tip of his fingers. “’bout this and more and more, I told you, anecdotes of you as a child took a lot of time… The plan was to have dinner at the station, Athena and Karen came to pick me up at the hospital and they were going to drop me there tonight… but then you left so I had to move the surprise here”.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. There’s no smell of disinfectants, just his fragrant aftershave, patchouli, and something else with a weird name, he doesn’t even know how to pronounce. He’s not happy, he’s not just happy, he’s something that goes far beyond, something beyond imagination.

“I’ve seen the news, do you want to talk about it?” Buck whispers softly, the voice that now resembles a whisper, which breaks in the depth of his chest.

Eddie shakes his head, and sinks deeper into Buck’s neck. “I just want to forget”.

“We’ll have to talk about it at some point. Especially because I told you down there that we should get married, sooner or later we’re gonna have to face this conversation,” he says, amused.

“You said a lot of stupid things that day,” Eddie groans.

“Oh thank you,” Buck boos, still amused. “I thought I’d die down there. Should I have left you with something or not?”.

Eddie gets up, moving away from that safe harbor that is Buck’s chest to look at him in the eye. He wouldn’t know whether furious, wounded or terrified. Or perhaps a more appropriate mixture of the three. It would mean dozens and dozens of different things, but in the end he just sighs.

“Don’t worry,” Buck tells him, a small lacklustre smile that doesn’t reach the eyes. “It won’t happen again”.

“You always say that, but every time you do something stupid and…” Eddie smacks back. “And I stay here to pick up the pieces��.

“It won’t happen again” Buck repeats, his voice louder, confident. Sure. It’s like he’s not gonna do this shit anymore, he’s not gonna be the self-sacrificing idiot again. “You’re being unfair, I didn’t decide to blow up a ladder truck on my own leg”.

“You don’t know that. It’s almost certain that you’re gonna do something else like that” he mumbles. “And I’m talking about the embolism because you overexerted yourself”.

Buck snorts an unsophisticated laugh, squints his eyes, and just looks at him then, in silence, an eyebrow raised as if waiting for Eddie to finish talking or to reprimand him.

“You didn’t think about us, about the aftermath of all this” he continues. “You were leaving us, without… thinking about what we would do without you. I had to tell our kid that we were going to turn off your life support, because you were there for months and, you, always the hero, would love to help other people, and I feel awful because I was letting you go and…”.

“Eddie,” he hears Buck say, but he ignores his soft voice.

“You have a family here, you have a kid, me, who wait for you at home, you have to think about us. About the people you are going to leave and…” he stops looking at Buck.

Buck gulps, taking a heavy, shaking breath. “It won’t happen again,” he repeats in a steady voice. “And not because I wouldn’t do it again, because given the opportunity I’d most definitely do it you are right. If I had to choose between saving my sorry ass and saving yours or anyone else’s, I definitely wouldn’t save mine… far from it: for you, for Chris, for everyone in our family… I’d let you take the oxygen straight out of my chest” he mutters, words rolling on his tongue in such an effortless way that leaves Eddie almost scared.

And he just sits there, about to argue that this is one of the stupidest things someone could say but he sees him, he sees Evan stretching out to retrieve something in his nightstand drawer, a thick, white folder. A medical record. And everything he meant, which he was about to say, uncontrollable and angry and wounded, every single thing disappears from his head. There is tension, the kind of electricity that now whispers under his skin for a while and that today, just today that it should not be, that there should be only joy, is stronger than ever.

Buck sighs softly, his lips curled in half a grimace. “It won’t happen because I’m not going back to 118. Or in general I won’t be a fire fighter anymore”.

Eddie swallows in vain. The words, the reprimand that dies at the bottom of his throat and the only thing that manages to say is a stupid, weak: “What… what are you talking about?”.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and hands him the folder. “I recommend you not to read the very long list of accessory symptoms that I have and those that I could develop, or the even longer list of medicines that I will have to take for a while or the very sad diet that I have to follow to get back in shape, and go straight to the conclusions of the medical exams I did… the conclusions begin with ‘From the assessments and tests batteries performed by the patient and the equipe…’” he adds, retrieving his book and taking up where he left off.

Eddie looks over at Buck for a full minute before looking at the white folder. He sits better, his back against the headboard to read better and have the bedside light in his favour. He hastens to leaf through the pages. Its words, high-sounding, heavy, deep, describe inflammation of the heart wall, symptoms, pain in the chest, shoulders, neck, back, recurrent fever, palpitations, weakness, and shortness of breath. The cause appears to be the thoracic trauma he suffered, along with that wound whose causes are still unclear, that terrible day. Lab tests, all physiological tests, stress tests, all give the same diagnosis. And with every word, everything becomes clearer and heavier and Eddie’s breath gets shorter and shorter, and his stomach turns, nauseous, and tears sting his eyes. Everything clicks in its place: respiratory problems, nausea, intermittent fever, everything that Buck suffered before waking up and after, during his recovery, everything is there, in that folder and clicks together in a weird, ominous mechanism.

A very small part of him, and Eddie will forever hate that he even felt that tiny, almost transparent slice of him, is almost relieved: Buck won’t take any more risks at work, not with this diagnosis. But he gets chills and is disgusted even at the thought: he was relieved, he was relieved for a single moment that his companion, his lover, one who struggled with his nails and teeth for his work, repeatedly, to get back on his feet, and to get out of the hospital, now can’t go back to work, now can’t─Urgh! What a piece of shit he is.

Buck remains silent for a while, as if to give Eddie time to metabolize how much he sucks as a person. “Pericarditis” then he says out loud, to make it true or to exorcise the word. “One of those diseases that doesn’t allow you to do exhausting jobs and stressful physical activities… I could jeopardize my life and the lives of others. In addition to movement and breathing disorders due to coma and long-term intubation, not to mention possible side effects of the drugs.” he adds with an impressive ease, the voice gentle. “And we don’t even talk about the number of disquieting terms that have been chanted to describe the things that I could develop over time”.

“Evan, I…” he starts to say, but the words die down his throat. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this at all. He couldn’t wait to get back to work with Buck, to watch his back, to those moments of random chatter on the truck, to the bickering with the others, to be able to reach out and know that he would be there. Always there. Because he’s okay now, he’s home, finally, and it’s crazy to even think that he’s…

“In the end, it’s better this way.” Buck murmurs, settling better with his back against the pillows. “At least you won’t have to worry about me while you work. Neither you nor the others… I’ll be the one who’ll worry about you, from home or at the station. I will be on the side of the desperate wives, first row, right chair…” he says sighing. “My father would like me to go back to Hershey… There’s a place waiting for me in the family business, if I…”.

Eddie hastens to disagree, to say quickly that he can’t, absolutely can’t go away and the words are so many and they flock to the bottom of his throat. But Buck goes before him.

“I’ve already told him no. Repeatedly, at some point he’ll understand, I guess.” he snorts shaking his head with a small shrug. “On the other hand, HR offered me a position as a fire investigator. I just have to take a couple of exams; my SEALS training and my degree are enough to qualify and Athena could help me prepare and… I wouldn’t risk it’s practically a desk job so… Could you stop making that face?” he mutters with a raised eyebrow and a kind smile.

Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s doing, all he feels is his eyes burning.

Buck reaches out and caresses his face. “Oh my God, don’t make that face! I’m not dying. I’m fine, except for a little shortness of breath but at least for sex I won’t have to do an EKG under stress every time, I checked… I asked the doctor explicitly, also because it would be a mess with the health insurance and all…” he tells him giggling and maybe Eddie rolls his eyes, or maybe he is frowning, because then Buck stretches out and sticks his finger pointing in the centre of his forehead right between his brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you go scowl like that”.

“Evan…” he finally says, with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I─I know how important working with the 118 is to you, being a fire fighter and…”.

“No,” he briefly disagrees. “I mean it’s wonderful working with y’all but… I have practically stumbled upon this job… which is─was perfect for me, yes” he murmurs. “But what is important to me is you, you all. It’s belonging to something. It’s no mystery that my family sucks a whole lot, but I know we’re a family, we would be anyway, even when I’m not working at 118 anymore… because we found each other, all of us. We became a family, and there’s nothing I want more than this, something to belong to”.

Eddie’s lips quake for a split second before he leans in, kissing Buck’s cheekbone. “What are you going to tell the others?”.

“They know. Bobby knows, when he came to see me, I told him” he babbles. “I already sent my medical records to HR, but I wanted everyone to hear it from me. Tomorrow morning, I take the opportunity to go and sign some papers, which I should have signed today since I would come to the station… Chim knows this because Maddie was with me when I was first told and… Hen read my medical records and already tried to convince me to undergo the surgery”.

He was the last to know, then. Eddie knows it’s definitely hard for him to talk about this, the fact that he’s never going back to work with them, but being the last one to know this sounds like Buck didn’t trust him.

“Don’t even think about it, Eds” Buck grumbles, as if reading into his head. “It’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s because it’s easy to say it with them, because basically I don’t sleep with them, and I don’t love them the way I love you. I only had to tell Bobby, basically, this thing rained on the others and… I had to tell you in the most painless way possible, maybe when I was out of the hospital so it would be easier, that’s all” he adds with a small shrug. “That’s because you have to digest this news as much as I do, maybe even more…”.

Eddie purses his lips tight, but he can understand: maybe to find the right words he took a while, maybe he had other ideas, maybe to understand how to tell him he had written a speech and Eddie instead decided to get angry with him, all tense as he is. “How long have you known?” he asks then.

“More or less since I managed to have a minimum of language abilities. I did some intensive treatment, so many times I was more tired than normal but… I couldn’t tell you, not while I was in the hospital. You lost the light in your eyes seeing me there, you were always tired and… tense” he stops and curls your lips as if trying to find the right words. “I didn’t want to make it any harder. I wanted to at least… help, okay? Support you”.

“Buck you were sick, you didn’t have to worry about that, you could have told me, I should have been the one to help… to support you…” he retorts. “I could talk to the doctors, Hen, Maddie…”.

“And let Hen try to convince you of the goodness of this surgery? An operation that, although widely performed, is still invasive, is still a needle that touches the heart and wouldn’t allow me to go back to work anyway?” he mumbles. “Talking about this would have made you even more stressed. No, thank you very much”.

“Surgery?” Eddie repeats.

“I prefer a non-invasive treatment, usually you can have a normal life with pharmacological treatment, without needles in the heart and things like that… If it’s needed, I will undergo a surgery, but for now the least invasive therapy is the perfect therapy… A little orange juice with the meds and go.” Buck babbles. It’s a lot of words all together, so this may have been a stressful thing for him, choosing between the two treatments, and having this diagnosis hovering over him. “And this is an unquestionable decision: I don’t want to spend any more time in the hospital, not in the near future, I will have the nightmares of those lunches for the rest of my life and I don’t want to put you in a position to do those nights again, and that face, so soon… If you’re gonna have tears in your eyes, it’d better be an orgasm, and not because I’m dying or something health-related, got it?”.

Eddie rotates his eyes, but decides to postpone: Buck is attentive to his health, he calculates the risks even when he doesn’t look like it and he does his shit on the field, but he is careful and is a good judge, even when his judgment is clouded by adrenaline. And the fact that he’s still more concerned with Eddie’s well-being makes something swell up in Eddie’s chest. “Do you think you’ll accept… The human resources proposal? You would be a… a great fire investigator” he finally says swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Do you really believe that? The alternative would be without a job, and that would mean burdening on your finances or worse… ask my father for help, no thank you” Buck groans. “I don’t want to weigh on you, I will need a good health insurance… or I could reassess my father’s offer… I mean,” he starts to say, and he takes the medical record from Eddie’s hand. “I guess it’s a lot to metabolize… The fact that I’m not in a decent shape yet, and maybe never will, let’s just say it’s a big deal, huh?” he adds, and his voice trembles. “Man, I wanted to be cool here, but…”.

“Evan, don’t say bullshits like that ever again, okay?” Eddie grumbles, watching him bewildered, and for a moment frowns his eyebrows in a severe grimace before stretching his forehead and sighing for a long moment. “Sometimes I can’t even fathom how stupid you can be”.

And Buck groans, and he’s about to argue but Eddie moves his hand to put his index finger on his lips.

“First, I don’t think I can resist being so far away, and secondly, you’re focusing on the wrong thing here, as usual: we’ll be fine, take as long as you need to get better. Maddie rented your apartment, and this could cover some expenses until you start working again, besides, you’re definitely gonna be a total hottie in the department investigator uniform,” and he moves, then, while he talks softly to put a kiss on his temple, and he hears him sighing. “And in addition to the look, not gonna lie that’s a plus, you’re gonna do great because you’re smart and good, and it’s certainly not just the physique that you joined the fire department… but for your problem-solving skills. A bit of a daredevil for sure but…” he stops and smirks. “Everything is going to be alright”.

And Buck sighs again, like melting in Eddie’s arm.

“Plus, pericarditis can go away on his own,” he adds, moving again to look at Buck’s face, a slight disbelieving look tingling in his eyes. “What? I’m a field medic, do you remember that?”.

“Oh, I know you are and, you are very good at that, so much that you got a medal” Buck says, a fond stupid smile on his face. “Talk medic to me, babe”.

Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “What I mean is, sometimes it takes months to recover from it, but full recovery is likely with rest and ongoing care, that can help reduce your risk of having it again and… I’m here for all the aftercare and surely a desk job could help you… and could help me: you won’t make me die of heartbreak at the tender age of forty”.

Buck laughs, against him. “Idiot, you’re still far from forty”.

“That’s because I’m forward-thinking,” Eddie quips and sits better in bed, manhandling Buck so that he can rest against his chest. “I’ll have to find someone who has my back”.

“Someone who possible watches your back but doesn’t look at your wonderful ass in the process, maybe,” adds Buck rubbing his cheek against his shoulder.

Eddie chuckles, the weight on his heart, always pressing and oppressive, seems a little lighter now. “I knew you had ulterior motives from the very beginning”.

“You started it, anyway… You said I could have your back, I just followed orders, as usual with great diligence and going a little further” Buck replies playful, but his mouth is kneaded with sleepiness and exhaustion. “Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a long day”.

“You too, you went to bed early in the hospital…” he says and a strange sense of horror mounts again in his throat, the awareness that it is over, reassures him and frightens him at the same time: because from what he read, on that folder, with all the commitment, with all the medicines and treatments, even with all the goodwill, Buck will never get back to his old self.

“I didn’t move out of bed at the hospital, it’s very different,” Buck replies, tightening the grip more on Eddie. “The big bed is better, so you don’t break your sorry back and I don’t find myself having to explain to too curious nurses if what they see emerging from under the blanket is or is not my, you know…” he suggests with a wry smile. “It was clearly my happiness to see you every time. What can I say? It’s physiology and you’re so very hot”.

Eddie rolls his eyes with a noisy sigh and blows a kiss in his hair, there is no more smell of medicines and disinfectants on him, the sick smell of the hospital, but the most reassuring and enveloping smell of patchouli, the smell of home. He hols onto him for a second more, that has every intention of becoming a minute and then moves to disentangle from Buck’s hug reluctantly, but he really needs a moment to himself. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, ‘cause I smell like smoke, as you kindly pointed out”.

“You could sleep here even covered in mud as far if you ask me” Buck complains. “As I said, finally I won’t have to explain to the nurses… oh wait, there are your parents here!” he adds with the tips of his ears red. “Damn, I had not calculated… It would be difficult to explain to your father or worse to your mother…”.

Eddie throws the pillow in his face. “Sleep that’s better, because you rant when you’re tired. I don’t want there to be a sentence, an idea or an eventuality where you talk about erections or sex to my parents, I don’t want these terrible images in my mind. I’m going to wash off my day and I’ll be right back,” he adds and slips into the bathroom.

And before he closes the door, he hears him growling in mid-voice. “I thought you liked it when I was rambling! I love you, by the way,”.

“Me too,” he says and closes the door behind him.

He rushes into the shower, the station shower is a godsend, but it isn’t enough to make the smell of ash disappear from his nose. The hot water is not enough to wash off that discomfort he’s been carrying around with him for days, maybe months, and now they’ve collapsed on him all at once, with that fire and the awareness that he can no longer work with Buck, everything changed completely.

But when he goes back to his room, his room that until that morning was empty and bare and now, instead, lived, Buck’s clothes crumpled on the bag, the book open on the ground, the curly and ruffled hair that stick from under the sheet, he’s all curled up with the eyes covered by the fabric, he feels better.

Everything changed, every single thing changed, but somehow they’ll manage to be okay. They will be.

When he settles down and moves the sheet to take some from Buck, he hears him moaning and sees him raise his head, opening an arm, as if to invite him, and Eddie does nothing but turn off the light and crouch against him.

It can’t go wrong if one has the other.

The nightmare is around the corner anyway, and Eddie wasn’t ready for that. He feels the heat of the day just spent burning on his face, the smoke that stings his nose, his fingers tremble. The nightmare turns in that ambulance, this time, his blood-covered hands as he performs the CPR, the high-pitched sound of the heart monitor. And then it’s dark, it’s so dark and wet, there’s the noise of the water and the smell of mud, that has a particular smell and he’s practically immersed in it now, his hands burning, despite the gloves the friction with the rope, the recoil of the rope that tears his breath away again.

It’s smoke and ashes, flames of dust and wind, it’s mud and water, and lack of oxygen.

“Eddie” Buck’s voice is like a distant echo, murmuring on his skin like the distant rustling of the wind. “Eddie, it’s okay, it’s okay, just open your eyes”.

And he wants to wake up but waking up means being in an empty bed, alone, in a room that has the smell of dust, and everything is dark.

But then there’s that little kiss in his hair, just over the edge of his forehead. “Eddie, it’s all right, you’re home, Chris is asleep and there are your parents who luckily set the alarm later or else you’ll find them up and around the house in a few minutes… and then there’s me, in all my glorious beauty”.

Eddie snorts a hoarse sound and blinks one eyelid and then the other.

“Here you are, what do you say at this ungodly hour? Good morning. I should recommend the melatonin chamomile that Ines, the night nurse, suggested me, it seems to be a godsend…” Buck gently mumbles. “You know what? We both take it, maybe not when we have a social event or something to do at night, because it seems it can knock a horse out”.

Eddie braids his fingers in the side of Buck’s shirt, and snorts.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” he stammers. “The ones you had at the hospital weren’t so bad… Maybe being uncomfortable helps your sleep, we should talk about it with a good chiropractor…”.

“I didn’t have nightmares in the hospital,” Eddie says.

“Oh, yes. So much so that I thought it was the bed… that’s why I always insisted that you go to sleep at home…” he explains. “I thought you were too uncomfortable, and it was your back that complained… but if it happens at home, in your bed…” he hints.

Eddie swallows and leans better against him, snorting slowly. “I don’t remember the nightmares in the hospital, I was convinced…”.

“Has it been going on for a long time?” he asks and then sighs. “Of course, it has been going on for a long time, what the hell do I ask? How long? We slept together before, before my… accident… you… what does Frank say? Well, does Frank know about your nightmares?” He rephrases, because Buck knows him, and he knows how hard it is to talk about his feelings, about what happens to him, he knows how hard it is for him not to have control over these things. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me about Frank and therapy, I won’t tell you about my therapy, but… Maybe you could talk about your nightmares, with me or Frank or whoever you want… just to… you know? Pull the cork out of your bottles”.

Eddie blinks, obviously he knows everything. Of course. It’s clear: Buck knows him well, so he immediately realized that something was wrong with the first nightmare that he let escape from his control, in the hospital. Damn it.

“You can’t control your dreams, Eddie.” he says slowly, lips against ear. “I mean you could, if you wanted to… You’re supposed to be practicing lucid dreams, but… it takes time and effort and what we live… I mean, who does your job lives, is complex, so it’s normal that it sticks on you…”.

“You talk like a therapist”, he comments slowly, the words that get stuck on his tongue. It’s not the time to make this kind of talk, they should both sleep; so, when it’s morning, morning for real, birds chirping or whatever, they’ll spend some quality time together. Even when Buck was in the hospital, Eddie was never a great entertainer: arriving after an exhausting shift, or the morning before going to work cut off their time together.

“Trust me, I’ve had enough therapy to write five or six books” Buck chuckles and tightens his grip more. “I can help by keeping you like this”.

Eddie huffs a soft sigh of contentment. “I ask nothing else”.

“And I can listen to you, remember. And guess what? Now I can also answer you!” adds the playful tone.

“Coma jokes, really?” Eddie groans, clicking his tongue on his palate.

Buck chuckles, the chest vibrates and almost seems to cradle Eddie in his embrace. “Defence mechanism, irony. The best of all”.

“You’re terrible” adds with some satisfaction in the voice, fondness, softness. Whatever.

“And think that I got better:” replies Buck, the voice that vibrates lightly in the silence of a still distant dawn. “First my defence mechanism was denial… I was spinning like a ghost in my ex’s apartment… then you came along and everything changed. I’ve got better because of you, let me help you,” he adds, shifting closer and pressing his hand on the nape of his neck.

And it takes a moment for Eddie to let go completely. The hermetic door, behind which are bottled all the things that can’t control, seems to be on the verge of collapse. He’s breathing through his teeth, his jaw locked.

And it’s surreal, it feels like they are somewhere between nowhere and everywhere, as if that room, the bedroom that only yesterday was empty and off, is on another plane of the existence, where there’s no pain, or tragedy, or fear. It feels like they are floating in the sea, moving and still at the same time.

“All I want is to flip a switch” Eddie murmurs then. “Before something breaks and can’t be fixed”.

“I won’t say that everything can be fixed, Eds, because there are things that can’t be fixed. But people? Yes. People can, no one is wasted, or rotten, or broken beyond repair. It takes effort, love and care… and you know that. It needs time, but we will manage. Don’t bottle things up, because they are going to break at some point and they’ll flood your pretty little head,” he adds, kissing the top of said head.

“But…” he starts to say, but then stops for a moment, to gather his thoughts. “I can’t control this, and I don’t like this… you know, you were…”.

“Okay stop right there. I won’t say that’s in the past, because, I literally was, and I know we’ll have to deal with the consequences of that thing for well long, okay? I have a medical condition to deal with… But now I’m home, Eddie, I mean… that matters, right?” Buck adds softly. “And I’m not gonna leave until you get tired of me, and that’s something you can’t control either”.

Eddie purses his lips. “That’s…”

“Stupid? Yes.” Buck says, anticipating his words. “Like it’s stupid your need to be in control. You don’t need to control everything because if you are this tense, all looking around and trying to watch out, you’ll miss the chance of being happy, the best things happen without a signal boost, an alert, or a fucking bell. You can’t always be in control. No one benefits of full control, Eddie: not you, not me, nor Chris. It’s only going to hurt you, and you know what’s also going to hurt? Your pretty little head if you don’t catch enough sleep before your shift, and you’ll be cranky and Hen and Chim will be a pain in the ass if you are…” he says in the clear attempt to cut this thing short, for Eddie just so he can bottle things up again.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “But I can’t weigh on you. And you have a lot of things you have to deal with, now”.

“We will deal with your things and mine together: it’s what people in a serious, committed relationship do” Buck adds. “You can’t have all that only over your shoulders, because at some point…”.

“I’m already past that point. I’m already broken.” Eddie says, swallowing past the lump in his throat, a lump he didn’t even notice was there to begin with.

“No, you were hurting. Hurting and being broken are two different things, Eddie. Let the people around you help and take care of you,” he adds softly. “You are not alone, you’ll never be”.

Eddie sniffles. He didn’t even notice before, he had to sniffle. His eyes burn, but he doesn’t give in. He’s already almost lost his composure one too many times. He settles on a “It’s hard”.

“Oh, trust me, I know” Buck says. “You were raised like this, all bottling things up and never breaking down around people, but I know you. When this happens you become restless, irritable, tense… even if you try not to be you are…”.

Eddie groans. “That’s not true”.

“It’s true, but that’s your way of dealing with things. You aren’t broken, you are hurting, and you don’t know how to fix yourself, because you can’t fix yourself all alone, you’d let people help you with that. You are a survivor, Eddie, there’s no switch to flip…” Buck murmurs moving enough to regain his position as the big spoon. “Now, let me cuddle you to sleep” he says.

And Eddie just leans in more, muffling a weird, satisfied moan against his pillow.

“Big day tomorrow” it’s all that comes from Buck after a while.

The next morning starts loudly.

There’s his father scolding Chris with his grandfather, not-at-all-reprimanding tone, because he opened the door and went into their bedroom to say hello. Eddie is still half asleep when he hears Buck giggling and moving in the bed until he comes out from under the covers and sits on the edge of the mattress.

Eddie stretches and blinks his eyes. Their routine, that of the first, that of the first accident, seems a bit different but practically has already returned, even if his parents have not yet returned to El Paso.

The soft, dim light is the same, it leaks from the curtains that are pulled softly, a thin slit between the two. Perhaps the breakfast won’t be the same for a while, judging by Buck’s diet, which he read quickly last night, which the doctors gave him as a food plan to get fully in strength, it will have to be longer, and they won’t be able to steal as many kisses, or caresses, because not only are his parents still around the house, but because Chris, as much as he tried to mask his malaise in this situation, now he needs to confirm that Buck is home and is here to stay (confirms that Eddie definitely needs too, to be honest).

Buck moves out of bed. “We’ll let your Dad sleep a little longer, hmm? Have you had breakfast yet, buddy?”.

“No! I wanted to wait for you!” chirps Chris and Eddie can’t stay in bed so long if his son was waiting for him.

“Helena made the pancakes, the eggs, the bacon… but you have that diet… she’ll definitely plan something else,” Ramon said.

“Oh, too bad! I’m still on a strict diet of jell-o and juice,” replies Buck very serious which makes Chris laugh breathless.

“He can eat eggs and toast and a yogurt and some orange juice,” Eddie mumbles poking his head out of the covers.

“Uh, buzzkill!” Buck comments sticking his togue out before going to the kitchen with Christopher and Ramon and Eddie hears them chatting animatedly about the planetarium and what Buck will do today.

Eddie gets up, out of bed and decides to take a little trip to the bathroom before reaching the kitchen. He looks less shabby than other mornings, after his nightmare and the abrupt night awakening, he slept much much better.

That thing that weighs on his chest, eyes and shoulders is certainly far from going away, but if they both have each other’s back, things will get better.

After breakfast, while Buck, for some reason, persists in helping to tidy up the kitchen, although he should be resting, like in bed, but he is a knucklehead, Eddie accompanies Chris to his room to do a final check on the things needed for his trip today.

“Did you get everything for your day with your abuelitos at the planetarium?” Eddie asks his son taking a look at the backpack.

“Sure! And we’re not going that far, I don’t need a sleeping bag!” Chris retorts shrugging and slipping the camera, a gift from Carla, in its case, before storing it carefully in the backpack. “Will Buck stay with us? But where are his things, Daddy?”.

“His things are in a storage that Maddie got when she rented Buck’s apartment,” Eddie grumbles. “We’ll go and get them, for now Buck can steal my things from the closet”.

“Even the things that were in the station? In his locker?” Chris asks.

“I don’t know, Chimney took them. He took care of Buck’s locker,” Eddie answers, frowning, “Why do you care?”.

Chris smiles, one of his dazzling smiles. “Because I made a drawing and I think it would look good on his nightstand”.

“Ah! So that’s what he went to look at in his locker when he was feeling a little low-key” Eddie mutters spacing out, and Chris giggles. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to have his things back, I’ll send a message to Chim and tell him to bring back at least the ones today since I’m taking Buck to the station to sign some papers…”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask him, maybe I’ll have Maddie bring them back when she drives me back here” Buck mutters leaning against the door frame. “Chris, are you ready? Take a lot of pictures, then I want a detailed report, alright?”.

“Yes, Bucky! I also have the recorder for that part about the sounds of the space! Who knows if I can use it” he babbles, putting on his jacket.

“If you ask nicely, I’m sure no one will be able to say no to you,” Buck answers by adjusting his jacket collar. “Have fun”.

“You too! Daddy be careful at work,” he then says, hugging Eddie as usual.

“Ah, no… I have a day off today; I’m just taking Buck to the station and then right back home” he babbles. “So, we are here when you come back and tell us all the good things you’ll see!”.

And Buck smiles adorably, looking at them, and Eddie can’t even define how happy and lucky he is right now.

When his parents and Chris drive away with their car promptly requisitioned from abuela, Eddie prepares for the day and watches Buck settle into this weird new everyday life in his home. Their home.

He’s sitting on his bed and going through his duffel bag with a couple of changes of clothes that Maddie must have brought to him in anticipation of his discharging.

Eddie could get used to this new normal. He might hope that that house, that room, their life, will be nice to them for the rest of their time, he could almost imagine himself all grey, watching the sunset with Buck in the backyard. He might even ignore the fact that they haven’t been together that long, that Buck has spent two-thirds of their new-born relationship in a coma, and that their lives, their job─his job is dangerous and so the years won’t be so nice to them but… He can’t ignore that feeling of warmth that swells in his chest and reddens his cheeks. Growing old has never seemed so sweet.

“Uhm” he hears Buck humming, which brings him out of his maybe too risky daydream.

Eddie cocks his head, moving near him.

“Can I steal you something a little warmer? For some strange reason Maddie decided to ignore my sweaters and just brought me some T-shirts!” he mumbles, showing him all the T-shirts in his duffel bag.

“Maybe he thought you’re used to colder winters than the Californian one.” Eddie replies a tiny smile dangling on the corner of his lips.

“All right, but I think it’s reckless to wear a half-sleeved t-shirt without even having a jacket to cover me with” he mutters.

“How did you get here yesterday? In a T-shirt?” asks Eddie.

“Your mother decided this morning to wash the sweater Karen gave me when I woke up, the white one, for no reason…” he murmurs softly, brows knitted in a frown.

“I’m sure the reason is called sanitizing, Buck,” Eddie chuckles. “Open the closet and choose whatever you want, never stopped you before”.

“Yes, but now we live together; and you complain a lot when I stretch your clothes things bigger” mutters and then looks, frustration cranking in his eyes.

Eddie moves closer to blow a raspberry on his cheek, to make him laugh: if it works on his son, it’ll work on Buck too. “You are going to be back in your usual shape in no time, but you are gorgeous anyway” he murmurs softly, against his face. “Don’t stress too much about it”.

Buck laughs softly heading to the wardrobe. “You are just trying to get into my pants”.

“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says, shrugging and trying to shot him the best subtle wink he could manage.

“You are terrible at this” groans Buck, starting to fish for that grey cardigan he likes so much.

“Am not” he quips, “And I know what you are doing over there, Buckley, you are trying to steal my grey sweater” he says. “You aren’t even trying to be that subtle”.

“It has buttons, it’s easier to put it on, I still have some hardships trying to put on something without buttons or zip-fasteners…” Buck says. “My left arm is still a bit… you know? Stiff”.

“I’m more than willing to help” Eddie says, all cocky wink and confident smile.

Buck looks at him with his wry smile, mincing his way up to Eddie. “You are so terrible at this…”

“Am I, now?” Eddie says moving closer, smacking his lips and helping him to get out of his pj’s shirt. “Is it painful to move?”.

“Something stings every now and then, but that’s normal, doc said. I still need PT.” he murmurs. “Which sucks because I had to re-learn again how to fucking walk and I still have a hard time putting a fucking fork in my mouth from time to time”.

“Evan,” he starts to say, lips primed and a serious paternalistic tone in his voice.

“No, I mean, it’s good… I’m getting better but… you aren’t gonna stay here every single time I need to move or… to dress and… I have a lot of t-shirts,” he murmurs.

“So, we are going to buy you a couple more shirts,” Eddie decides.

“I know what you’re doing here, mr. Diaz,” Buck says, in a mocking tone.

“I’m just saying you are way too hot in your shirts” Eddie shrugs. “Let me help you today. You’ll do everything by yourself tonight”.

“I sure hope not to,” Buck retorts, licking his lips.

Eddie clicks his tongue on his palate. “And I’m the terrible one at this” he groans, manhandling Buck to the bed. “Sit, so I can help with your pj’s top”.

Buck reluctantly executes the order, and Eddie moves his fingers to the hem of the fabric from his shoulders and in a fluid gesture takes off his shirt.

And Eddie moves to retrieve from the bag a plain, white t-shirt to put on. And when he goes back to Buck he has his head bent forward, his eyes shut, a hand over his chest where there’s surely that scar from that day.

“Hey” Eddie murmurs, taking his chin between his hands. “Look at me, mh?”.

Buck lifts his head up, a tiny lacklustre smile on his lips.

“I hear chicks dig in scars” Eddie says, smiling.

And Buck lets out a small humourless huff.

“Let me see it.” Eddie murmurs softly. “The sooner the better”.

Buck doesn’t move for a moment, like pondering what to do.

“I’m not in love with you because of your body,” Eddie starts, “I love you for your big stupid self-sacrificing golden heart, for your pretty little head, for the way you make me feel, the way you made me feel since the very beginning, the way you are ‘round Chris, how you make me smile and… okay even for your stupidly good ass and you know” he moves his hand in a self-explanatory gesture to his lower parts. “You are way more than what you look like. And that is just a mark on you, that means you are alive… you are a survivor, and those are just… signs of that. You won a battle, Evan”.

And Buck rolls his eyes skyward, not saying a thing, deciding to move his hand away.

And even if Eddie knows what he’s going to see, because he saw it open, and saw a lot of wound like that before and after healing, and a lot of them which didn’t heal, it still is a punch in the gut. No wonder Buck wanted to cover it, not for yourself but for Eddie, because he may remember how bad it was on the ambulance, right after he exited that fuming inferno. But now is somehow small, it’s like a narrow crooked pink thread, a few inches from his sternum, almost half a palm long, it healed well, and it may leave a glossy, whitened skin in a couple of years. The pinkish-hot steaming and bubbling blood a long-forgotten memory. Evan lifts his left arm enough to make Eddie see the other scar, the chest tube anchoring one: they used a different technique here, something quite new, introducing a two layered closure to avoid wound healing complication, like a hypertrophic or a keloid scar, and to achieve airtight closure. It’s a tiny one, two inches, scar that almost blend with the muscles and the curve of the ribs.

Eddie moves his finger ghosting over the tissue with the tiniest frown. “You scared me so much, but those are proofs that you are alive, and a survivor. Every imperfection makes us glorious. And as I said, chicks dig in scars…”.

“You are terrible at this” Buck murmurs a lopsided smile.

“Nah, you know I’m perfect and always right. I ain’t no chick but, I’m sure diggin’ in” Eddie says, moving to help him in his t-shirt. “Go wash your teeth so we better get going, you have to talk to Bobby and all…” he adds, throwing in his face that grey sweater. “It’s yours now”.

“Nu-uh! I like it better on you. And I want to steal it every now and then…” Buck murmurs, getting up and going to the bathroom.

Eddie huffs a small sigh, when alone, registering this new normalcy. He’d better keep going, and finish dressing up without indulging so much in his daydreaming.

Their drive to the station was unusually quiet, not weird-tense quiet, maybe content-quiet. Every now and then, Buck would move his hand on Eddie’s thigh, squeezing softly and smiling at him without saying a word. No weird fun facts, no cheesy words, just them and some awful Christmas song buzzing distantly in the speakers. Maybe Buck is a little tense, that’s what Eddie would rationally assume. ’Cause when he gets tense he does one out of two things: either he talks too much about the most absurd and random facts, or he just shut his mouth in a forced silence.

But this doesn’t sound forced, it’s just content, and maybe he’s almost-worrying too much. Because he isn’t worrying, nope, absolutely

When they reach the station, the station, he hears him groan softly.

He doesn’t ask anything just waits. Buck isn’t so good with dealing with his feelings, but he usually isn’t ashamed of talking about them, so he just waits.

“Fuck, I’m nervous like the very first day I came here” he murmurs. “I guess something never changes, even if a lot of things change…”.

Eddie moves to touch the nape of his neck. “It’s going to be alright”.

And Buck rolls his eyes, snorting.

“I’m not terrible at this, whatever you say” Eddie grumbles and moves to get off the truck. “Let’s go, so we can be home in no time”.

Buck steps out of the car sighing softly. “Go on alone, it’s gonna take me forever to climb all those steps”.

“Okay, wait for you up there.” Eddie says.

“You should say ‘No I’ll carry you, my dear’ or something along the line…” Buck complains.

“That’s because you always say I’m terrible at this” Eddie shrugs, before sprinting inside and leaving him practically there, he can still hear him complaining while he walks past the locker room.

The station is unreasonably quiet, like they are all out on a scene, but the trucks and the ambulance are still in there. And they parked between Chim’s car and Bobby’s, so they are surely there. And there’s also Hen’s white coat attached to her locker’s door.

Eddie decides not to think too much about it and go upstairs. A stupid grin curling his lips every time he stops on the steps to look at Buck who’s slowly climbing the stairs, who mutters something under his breath, his fingers clamping on the banister.

When he reaches the mezzanine, he is about to introduce Buck’s a bit too slow grand entrance when he sees them, their family. Bobby, Athena, May and Henry, Michael and his cute doctor ─ David or whichever his name is, Eddie isn’t so good with names─, Maddie and Chim (and presumably their daughter is somewhere, napping in her carrycot), Hen, Karen with Denny and Nia, Albert, his abuela, Pepa and his parents with Chris and Carla. There’s even Nate – the substitute – and some other colleagues from the other shift. All smiling and with stupid glittering hats on their head.

“Surprise” Buck murmurs behind him and the others echo him.

“I thought you didn’t want a party, you know with all the…” he starts to say, and he feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

“That’s not for me, not only at least. But for all of us,” Buck says.

“And the planetarium?” he asks looking over to his dad, and Christopher.

“It won’t go anywhere!” his father says.

“Hoping the San Andreas fault doesn’t act up” comments May softly.

“We are going in the noon” Chris quips moving to hug his Bucky. “You did good, those are a lot of steps”.

“They surely are, and your dad has been a big meanie ‘bout it” he says. “He just sprinted and didn’t even carry me, can you believe?”.

Chris frowns, thoughtful. “You are big, he isn’t strong enough to carry you over here”. And it’s almost an insult for both of them. No more time with Chim for him.

The kids, Eddie’s parents and Chim and Hen snort loudly. “That’s true, kid, tell ‘em”.

“My own kid!” Eddie groans, but he can feel the big smile tugging at his lips. Their family all together there. It almost feels like it’s normal, perfectly normal.

And it’s a quiet, almost lazy day, not like yesterday, they could eat their second breakfast in peace. He can see Buck talking animatedly with Bobby over his toast and his orange juice, the others have platters full of Bobby, Pepa and abuela’s goodies.

Eddie has never felt so happy, in that station. His family all around them. From time to time, he moves his gaze along the table, exchanging a glance with Buck every now and then surrounded by the kids, all smiles and stories and things he didn’t know happened during his sleep. And every single time he looks at Buck, he seems happier than before, his sister a couple of seats away from him because Athena wanted to seat with him and Chris on his other side, so he is quite far away from Eddie but still looking, always looking.

Chim and Hen, but also Carla and Pepa are roasting him, all questions and comments about their new living arrangements, every now and then Karen tries to save his ass, but his parents are there to do the same, in an unusually supportive way. It’s good, it’s something he didn’t want he needed, he wanted maybe, but now it’s real and perfect.

And he’d be lying if he said that when he saw Buck pick up his niece for the first time and start talking to her in that adorable, sweet, silly tone, his heart didn’t take that stupid, almost embarrassing leap in his stomach. The wide grin he has is something Eddie hadn’t even thought was possible a few hours back, last night, or thinking about a few months ago.

He’s lost so many things over the past few months, even Chris’ birthday, that went smoothly, wasn’t a happy moment in his clouded mind. Not to mention all the other parties that took place there, or at someone else’s house, he wasn’t enjoying himself like this in a long time.

The noise is pleasant, the station is back all alive and loud, full of family feels and happiness. It vibrates with something that now as the taste of happiness, of everyday, of normality. And Eddie has concluded that even Nate, the too much happy-go-lucky substitute, is not so terrible if you exchange to words with him.

At some point, after cleaning up the table, he sists near Buck still engulfed by May, Henry and Denny, Nia almost sleeping on his lap, and Chris talking about the next movie they are all going to watch with Buck, Maddie’s daughter back in her carrycot, sleeping her blissful, full-stomach sleep.

He waits for the kids to leave Buck be for a moment, and then shifts closer.

“My day off is your doing, right?” he murmurs softly, it isn’t an accusation, he is just stating a fact.

“Yep,” he pops. “I wanted this to be good, and you had to enjoy yourself a bit, with your parents and family, and all the crew it’s good the alarm hasn’t rang yet” Buck murmurs. “I wanted to celebrate life, and not my work slipping away. Work is not everything I have.” he adds softly, burrowing in his side, his head bent enough to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “I have a family, here. And that’s not gonna end if I stop working here. Something the old me didn’t know”.

“New you is a very wise you.” Eddie murmurs brushing his lips over the edge of his forehead. “And I love you so much I almost feel repetitive”.

“You are terrible at this for this reason. I don’t need to hear it. I know you do. And I do too. Your actions speak louder than words, remember? And the way you make me feel… that’s a lot to take…” Buck snorts softly.

“Can we do it now, Bucky?” he hears Chris ask, next to Ramon all intent on beating Chim, Albert and Michael’s asses at the pinball.

“Oh, yeah sooner the better! Eddie you should really see your dad how good is at that, he is a master pinball champion!” Buck murmurs moving from the couch to where Maddie, Karen, Athena and abuela are talking. Eddie’s mom seems to have the best time of her life laughing hard, they are clearly talking about some weird stupid thing either Buck or Eddie himself did. “Hey now, don’t make me look bad in front of my soon to be suegra”.

And that catches Eddie’s attention, while he moves closer to the pinball, more than his dad’s score blinking in red on the machine. But due to the noise around him now, he can’t hear Buck bickering with Athena and Maddie about it. He may have misheard.

But then his dad decides to let the ball, which just sprinted through the ramp, roll over the side of the flip and fall, not redirecting it back into the playfield. And everyone stays silent for a second.

His dad looks over at abuela and his mom, and Eddie’s gaze moves there too, just to find Buck moving closer his hands fidgeting around something that looks like a little box. And it takes Eddie off guard, and something in the back of his head clicks.

“Better doing it now, before the bell rings” Buck murmurs under his breath.

“Go for it!” Hen yells.

Eddie looks around. All those people around them, it can’t possibly be the case, can it? “Are you trying to woo me?”.

“Oh, shut up Diaz I already wooed you a long time ago” Buck says. “This is a bit different”.

“No hot-air balloon for you Eddie!” Chim peeps and Maddie rolls her eyes.

“It’s so unfortunate” Athena retorts.

And Bobby nods. “But at least we are going to avoid rescuing your sorry asses from a hot-air balloon, or a moving helicopter, or whatever was Buck’s idea for this”.

“Better stay on solid ground” Karen says her thumbs up, so that Nia and Denny do the same.

And someone of those present, consent with a certain clamour, mimicking the thumb up gesture with a tiny nod.

Buck rolls his eyes, his ears pinkish, almost red, and looks over at all the people there, a stupid, fond smirk on his face. “Can I just, please ask him to marry me or are we going to do this for much longer? I have to know because I have to kneel at some point”.

A tiny, stupid sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “No need to kneel, you already asked me”.

“That’s what I said!” Hen quips, and Karen just elbows her.

Buck groans.

“Go for it Bucky!” Chris chirps out loud.

“Go for it” Eddie murmurs, quieter, with a voice so soft he couldn’t even believe himself. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he takes one of Buck’s so that they can be both anchored one to the other.

Buck squeezes his hand and scoffs a soft, mute thank you, before starting again. “No grand romantic gestures, no wooing in extraordinary ways, no extremely sickening cheesy speeches,” he says, his voice soft like his breath on his skin when they sleep together, and gentle like his hands and eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I just wanted this to be ordinary. With the people we care about around us. Because that’s what we’ll have if you make me the happiest idiot in the world and marry me: each other and our family. I already asked Chris and your dad, so we have a green light, you know so…”.

And Eddie rolls his eyes. “You are such a sap and somehow I am the terrible one at this”.

All around them, their friends, their family laugh joyfully. But Eddie doesn’t even notice it somehow. They are there, but they are somewhere else, like that night before, everywhere and nowhere, at the same time.

“Bad habits rub off” Buck smirks, opening the velvety box revealing a simple metal, maybe silver, band.

“We have a lot of bad habits to share” Eddie nods, softly moving a step forward and leaning closer, to kiss Buck’s lips right then and there, in front of everyone.

“Yikes” he can hear from Henry, Chris and Denny.

Buck snorts and rolls his eyes unceremoniously. “It’s that your consent?”.

And Eddie nods, simply. Yet is loud and clear, and soft, and stupid. And everyone else are starting to clap, but the noise is just a drumming in his ears, while he looks over to Buck who high-fives Chris.

“Put the ring on it, Buckley!” yells Carla.

And Buck, always industrious, executes the order in no time, taking Eddie’s hand and slipping the ring on the finger, first the wrong one, his hand clammy and trembling, and then moving to the right finger.

Eddie looks over at his dad and mom, who smile at him, happy and then everyone sticks closer to engulf them in hugs and shake their congratulations.

It’s stupid, and soft, nothing big but perfect.

He looks over at Buck, who beams a smile back at him. “No eloping” he says under his breath.

“No eloping for now” Buck corrects him. “We aren’t in a rom com, yet”.

A/N:

It took me like 6/7 months but here we are! Sorry for the wait! at some point I was about to throw in the towel this chapter didn't really want to exit from my head.

But here we are so thank you very much for your patience and for supporting me with all the love you gave to this work.

If you reached the end of this mammoth chapter you are now my favourite person! I hope you liked this whole 27 pages/16k chapter-mess(???). I really can't English right now, so if you find something that makes your skin crawl, misspellings or mistakes of every sorts please let me know.

So now I'm bidding my farewell to this work I hope you enjoyed the trip so far and you'll follow the developments of the rest of this.

Yes, because this now has become a series! (somehow!!)It took me like 6/7 months but here we are! Stay tuned for more (i could take a month or two, or could take forever we don’t even know)

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

tagging @buckleystrand; @sparksfly-buddie; @chrrlees; @lieselfh; @themoonyloveenvy and whoever wants to be tagged!

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lamalefix · 4 years

Text

A whisper of smoke 1/5

[Buddie fic; Heavy Angst; Angst with a Happy Ending; Hurt/Comfort; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Established Relationship; Major Character Injury; Blood and Injury; I don't know how to English; I Don't Even Know how to tag; I don't even know why; Author.exe has stopped working]

[read this work on ao3]

This really started as a short CPR story inspired by @buckleystrand (here the original post, and i Highly suggest you to go there and find out all the works that Haley's marvelous brain prompted!) but how it escalated quickly in this massive thing? As the tags say, I don't even know. CPR is, you know, the opposite of romantic. Peolpe stop to know how to function, when their loved one is unconscious, not responsive, and everyone is in panic. You push the chest of a person so hard, two inches down - it's massive -, that you can actually broke their ribs and, well... there's a lot of other things but... but urgh the angsty part of it? I'm all in for that!

Remember to perform (i really hope you won’t have to!) CPR only on unconscious, not responding, not breathing people. And please be sure to call for emergency.

“Buck this is an order. You have to move, look for a way out...” Bobby grumbles, peremptory, like a boss now. Even though his eyes show so much concern. “Find the way out, Buck, we are looking for you from outside, okay?”. “There could be, yes. But ... Cap?” he says, tentative over the radio. “It’s all dark and... and... and I think I’m hurt...” he says and hears him just chuckle. “I’m bleeding...” he continues to say and coughs. “But… but it doesn’t hurt”. Shit. Shit. Shit. This isn’t a good sign. Eddie has seen many injuries, even before being a firefighter. And this is not a good sign, if one doesn’t feel pain, it isn’t a good sign. Or, Buck gets trapped in a burning building but... there really is always a way out? No one gets left behind, right?

It’s a dim, soft light that wakes them up every morning. It leaks in from the curtains that are gently drawn, a thin gap between their edges. Buck doesn’t like complete darkness, and honestly Eddie might even sleep on stones. Especially after weary shifts like theirs.

Then there is that breakfast, usually quick, cereals and milk, because in order to steal a moment alone, two kisses too many, the hands that run along their bodies, in that blessed moment when they still don’t have to wake Christopher up, they then get stuck in the bathroom, hands still intertwined in the hair, or pressing on the flesh, small moans that rise, in the shower, and then they have hurry to dress and look like responsible adults.

And there is the way to school, the songs Buck and Christopher sing out loud. And maybe for a moment, just one, Eddie thought he would get a headache from hearing them sing, the very same song over and over again. And instead it is the best time of his morning. Even better than that little friction between their bodies, before waking Christopher.

Then there are the greetings, the recommendations in front of the school entrance, and that little moment of silence before restarting the car, as they watch Christopher hurry to join his classmates.

Then the way to get to the station, where all the others are waiting for them, and there is Evan who smiles in that incredibly bright and happy way.

Eddie repeats it and repeats it in all over again in his head, it’s like his anchoring mechanism. And sometimes he needs it, to repeat their morning routine in its every single fraction.

Eddie is a creature of habit, he likes to follow his patterns, his routines, perhaps due to all those years spent in the army. That’s why his life works so well, because they have habits, routines. Evan has messed them up a little, but in the best possible way. Inserting new little gears that alternate perfectly with those that Eddie had already set up in Christopher’s life. They are all happier, they are all more relaxed, and even when there is a small hitch, a small bump in the road, he just has to reach out to Evan, and he makes everything better.

And there are hard days, yes, there are always hardships, and there are times when reaching out and taking his hand isn’t enough, but it has never been like this. It has never been so atrocious.

At the fire academy, they immediately make it clear that the fire emits signals that can help firefighters determine the state of development of the fire and, above all, the changes that can occur.

This ability is essential for determining the appropriate strategy and tactics to be used, before moving to act.

Reading the fire means being able to make decisions based on your knowledge and not on simple guesswork or luck.

But then again, luck is a pivotal part of their work.

During a rescue situation, there is a large amount of information that can be found in a matter of seconds, just in a blink of an eye.

When firefighters are faced with fires in closed places, like homes or rooms, they must take into account certain specific signals, in order to have indications on the conditions and evolution of the situation.

The smoke, its colour, its density, its pulsations, its volume and its positioning and the height of the neutral zone.

Air currents, their speed and direction, those ominous whistles.

The heat, the darkening of the windows and little or no presence of flames, the wrinkling and the formation of bubbles on the colored walls, the sudden increase in heat.

The color, volume and location of the flames.

Among all, the smoke is the first alarm bell, the one that could decree the success of a rescue action, which with its murmurs, with its whisper, allows to make a first assessment of the risks, to decide the dynamics, the actions to follow.

Fires are all very different, if not unique, yet all the same. They all have the same destructive outcome. And they are all equally deadly.

The difference lies in the methods of intervention, in the rapidity of response, in the ability to read the signals and anticipate the fire.

Buck was sitting across from him in the truck. He was reading something, all focused, on his phone, he had started at the station and was continuing on the truck. He usually talks a lot, pumped up with adrenaline before he arrives on the scene, but he was still clearly all sulky and pouting about that little argument that the two of them had. Discussing with him is also fun, Eddie would say, almost indispensable.

Buck is selfless and stubborn, he is one who throws himself headfirst into situations, without even thinking about the consequences. And this makes him the wonderful person he is, the amazing firefighter he is. But Eddie just wants him to take better care of himself. And maybe he raised his voice and Evan snorted a dull grunt and decided to go and clean his locker, something he often does when he wants to clear his mind. And maybe one could wonder what is in his locker that instantly calms him down after rearranging it. But today he was still pouting, all sullen, on the truck, so he decided to read that something on his phone, maybe his current fixation.

They didn’t have time to clear up, the alarm went off before they could apologize to each other, which made him even more intractable as he slipped in turnout gear over the station garments, and had the usual problem of fastening that stupid clip between pants and suspenders.

Maybe Eddie isn’t even sure if he remembers what he told him; the captain interrupted them before the discussion escalated. But he must have said something stupid. When Eddie is worried, he always says something stupid. And Buck weighs his words more than he should.

He reached out, just before they got on the scene, and Buck returned his grip, as usual. A small smile curving his lips. And then they saw it, that whitish smoke.

When they arrived in what was supposed to be a nice neighborhood, before the economic crisis, the smoke was white. And when the smoke isn’t dark, well, that's not a good sign: it means that pyrolysis products accumulate, and there is an absurd heat inside the scene.

It was pure chaos over there. People in the streets and police all over. While they were pulling on the scene, arrived two more ambulances from station 154. And what was happening over there, for sure, was something gruesome: a house fire doesn’t usually need that amount of firefighters but there were at least 3 kids to rescue. Maybe more.

There was a cop barking orders through gritted teeth before he started updating Bobby about the situation. Four kids, a lighter and an abandoned house. A stunt. A stupid joke. All still inside except one, who had decided to lock them inside the house and run away.

And when his friends didn’t find a way out, he needed to call the 911.

The volume of the smoke allows to determine the magnitude of a fire and with a relative accuracy its location. In certain cases there is no correlation between the two facts, and this can give false information on the location, size and state of development. Smoke can move through ventilation ducts or part of the space and appear in unexpected places. The basic principle is that hot fumes tend to rise vertically, and when they reach horizontal obstacles, they look for new vertical loopholes. The longer the path, the more the fumes cool down, mixing partially with the air they encounter.

Opening the door with the ram made the fire develop and inflate, but it was the only way to get in there. The neutral zone started lowering and the fumes thickening. The air was already so fucking hot.

And they launched in the rescue. They immediately found two of the three kids on the first floor. They were unconscious and therefore Eddie and Buck left them to the expert hands of paramedics, the rest of the 118 who was trying to tame the flames, still not too high and swollen, that didn’t even crackle that much.

Usually, when an opening is created, hot gases come out of the upper side of said opening and fresh air enters through the lower side. A sudden and complete movement of this air flow towards the interior of the room indicates the imminence of a backdraft. In some cases, this can be followed by a reflux movement, so the backdraft occurs a few moments later.

The smoke seemed to pulsate through the small cracks in the wall, through the half-open and lopsided doors, the fire was feeding itself, and with the front door wide open and the windows broken by the pressure exerted by the heat, the air increased the destructive power and the fire has grown in breadth.

The two of them had to hurry.

The change in the wind was enough to put the elements of combustion in motion and in a blink of an eye that house has become hell.

The air flow has become rapid and turbulent the neutral zone has begun to lower more and more, more and more, the pulsations of smoke and air flow have increased the rhythm in a swirl of flames and soot, burning dust, and they seemed to walk on the edge of a volcano.

As they went up to the second floor, they also found the other boy, unconscious and with his leg stuck in a rough beam in the floor.

They were on the stairs, a few meters from the door, when they weird that strange cry, a sound coming from the basement. Like a cry for help.

The temperature had become even higher, even warmer, the wallpaper, the little that had remained attached to the walls and had survived the wear and tear of time, was swelling.

He looked at Buck. He looked at him as he looked at him many times, such despair in his eyes, while he was shaking his head slowly. “We have to go,” he said, “we have to go, we have to get out of here”.

They didn’t have time to look for other people, to look for other collateral damage. Or they could become it, they could become the collateral damage.

Yet Eddie would have done it, if they had been reversed, if Buck had the boy passed out in his arms, then Eddie would have gone looking for that person calling out for help. He has taken all those shitty decisions too many times, for the sake of good, to save people and not for an absurd hero complex, certainly not. Because maybe he still doesn’t believe it, but Buck is an ace in his job, maybe he’s better than all of them put together, so fucking smart and zealous. And maybe Eddie is so, so selfish since they got together, that he just wants his own good, he just wants his heart not to break. He has already lost so much, they have already lost so much.

That’s why he didn’t want it to happen, for any of them to become the collateral damage of a couple of junior high students’ joke.

“Go on, take him out,” Buck said, hurrying to the door. “I’m right behind you, one last check. No one gets left behind...”.

“Don’t pull your stunts now, get out!” Eddie grumbled.

And then there was the whistle.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

A moment earlier, they were leaving that house, and the next moment Eddie is face down on the concrete, a couple of feet away from the door, or from what is left of it. The thirteen-year-old boy still clasped in his arms, the air being torn out full force of his chest. Something, someone pushed him away.

It happened in a blink of an eye.

And the backdraft must have brought down the roof of the house, the temperature was so high that a flashover exploded in all its arrogance. At some point the fire must have grown so high that the heat released by the various levels of fumes has reached such an intensity to trigger a self-ignition of all combustible materials.

And now that he looks at the lopsided skeleton of what had once been a beautiful house, and sees that part of the roof yielded, taking half of the facade away, Eddie shivers: a moment too much and he would have been stuck there. No way out. No way in.

He can’t even understand what happened, his ears whistling with the noise, the dark and rainy night above him, a fuss of colors, the flashing lights of the fire trucks, the fire still sizzles on the walls, the tiles of what is left of the roof falling like burning embers, while the puffy black smoke now stands out towards the sky.

And it takes more than a moment, it takes more than a moment for Eddie to notice it, to realize that something is so very wrong.

And for a moment, in that confusion, someone needs to point it out to him.

It’s Bobby who points it out, the voice crackling on the radio. “Buck, do you copy?”.

No reply.

And it’s like a punch well placed on the ribs, something that Eddie remembers clearly, from a life before, stupid streetfightings and shitty decisions. It takes his breath away. And it’s certainly not the smoke that has that effect on his breathing rhythm.

Buck.

Buck pushed him out of there.

Buck is still inside. No way in. No way out.

And it’s like looking out of his own body, he doesn’t even notice his body moving to leave the boy in Hen and Chim’s care as he stands up and starts, with his knees trembling in a shock of adrenaline and terror, towards the pile of flames and debris.

Buck was behind him, and now he isn’t there.

“Buck? Buck?” the captain repeats before cutting a glare at Eddie, his eyes dark. “You should let Chim look over you Eddie,” he says a paternalistic tone in his voice.

And Eddie feels it, the emptiness, the silence of the other walkie, that digs in his chest, his heart in his throat waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He is already out of breath, when a disturbing, gruesome roar comes from the house, the roof that folds again, in a strangely comic and blood-curdling way. While a part of the second-floor yields and crushes down. The plywood that splashes with glass and soot.

And Eddie has to stay calm. He has to keep calm, he has to control himself. Even if his whole body would like to run there, he would like to dig, even with bare hands, between the flames and the debris, he would like to pull away the burning embers of that house, to open a passage, to pull him out.

No way in. No way out.

“Cap” he manages to say, his voice like a whisper as he looks at all that devastation. “Bobby… Bobby, we have to go in there, we have to help him... he’s still in there, someone was there... we heard... he was right behind me...”.

A stunt. It was just a stupid joke, fun for four kids. Damn foolish kids.

And before he loses what’s left of his breath in his lungs, before the panic fogs his eyes, he repeats again and again their morning routine.

Again and again.

Until he hears it, the familiar noise of the radio croaking.

And his raspy voice that comes directly from that hell. “... -by” he can hear on the other end. “Bobby” Evan repeats more forcefully.

The realization that he is alive, the shower of relief that collapses on him, immediately seems acid rain: Buck is alive, yes, but he is in there. Hen and Chim approach them after entrusting the last boy to the other paramedics, the ambulance ready to go to the hospital.

“I’m here Buck,” Bobby says, his eyes locked on Eddie.

“Thank God…” comes again from the walkie. “I thought... I feared...” Evan stammers. “I was afraid it was broken and... luckily...”.

“Buck you have to tell me where you are,” Bobby orders, his tone more like a father’s than a captain’s.

There is a long sigh and then a small series of coughs. “Is Eddie out there? He’s safe, Eddie... is Eddie safe? The kid? They are fine?” he mutters confusedly.

Hen taking a tight breath between her gritted teeth, Chim next to her with wide eyes.

“Yes, I’m out here Buck,” Eddie hurries to answer, the radio in his trembling hands. “I’m here, I’m fine, but you must tell us where you are... we have to come get you”.

“You are fine…” Buck repeats, the vaguely incredulous tone mixed with a satisfaction in a broken sigh. “Ah, thank God” he repeats.

“Evan,” Eddie calls him. “Please tell me where you are, we are coming to get you”.

Buck mumbles something disjointed, something incomprehensible. “... shit” he can only understand. “Basement. I think... the house has come down... shit. I don’t see anything, it’s dark... the neutral zone is... it’s getting down... I...” his words out strangled in his throat.

Eddie cannot move his gaze from the house, his knees still trembling, his hands burning from the desire to run there and help. He’s always been rebellious at heart, but never openly: he’s good at following orders, but he must, absolutely must go to Evan, help him out. As resilient as one may be, even a fighter like him, can’t get out of a collapsed house on his own.

There is another noise, deaf, and it comes even louder from the walkie. What remains of the house folds, menacingly.

“Evan!” Eddie shouts, the desperation that tears his voice apart. And he finds the strength to move his legs. The cortisol that runs in his body, the adrenaline that pumps into every corner of his cells. He has to get him out of there, surely there is something, even a little thing he can do, a road he can open.

“Cap the others... are the others there?” Evan asks slowly, the voice that sounds mixed with something, with sadness, pain.

“Buck you have to try to move, old houses like this one always have an access for the basement, can you see it? Maybe with a little luck... we can find it over here and we’ll catch you halfway and...” Bobby mumbles.

“Cap...” comes raw from the other end of the radio, Buck’s voice tired. “Everything is coming down, here, Bobby.” he clarifies. “It’s not worth it, coming in to save me. It’s not worth it… You have ... you all have a family to go back to... you are too... too important. It’s not... I’m not worth it.” he murmurs.

An impossible rage mounts in Eddie’s throat when he picks up the walkie again. “Don’t say bullshit like this. Tell me where you are. You are alive. As long as you’re alive, we don’t give up, you understand? You have a family too, Evan. Please. Don’t say this kind of things…”. And the thing that hurts the most isn’t only the fact that he said it out loud, that he said that he isn’t worth it, the most painful thing is that Evan believes it.

“Eddie...” he hears him sigh, a strange tone in his voice.

“There could be, yes. But... Cap?” he says, tentative over the radio. “It’s all dark and... and... and I think I’m hurt...” he says and hears him just chuckle. “I’m bleeding...” he continues to say and coughs. “But… but it doesn’t hurt”.

Shit. Shit. Shit. This isn’t a good sign. Eddie has seen many injuries, even before being a firefighter. And this is not a good sign, if one doesn’t feel pain, it isn’t a good sign.

“He’s going into shock,” says Hen. “We have to get him out of there, soon Cap”.

That’s enough. That’s enough. They waited too long for act. They are separated and he has to go and rescue him, he has to help him, he can do it, Eddie has saved a convoy, Eddie managed to get out alive from a hell of water, a hell very similar to what Buck went through with the tsunami, or everything else they had faced, both of them and have always found a way to back to each other, they fought their way back to each other, even before getting together.

“Buck, you have to move. It’s an order,” Bobby repeats. “Do you understand? I’m ordering you, Buck”.

Eddie moves quickly: Evan cannot do it alone, not in there, not if he is injured and sees nothing, and it’s dark. But as long as he is alive, as long as he is alive, they can’t surrender, they can’t give up.

“Don’t screw it up, Eddie” the captain grumbles, standing in front of him. “Eddie, you have a son waiting for you at home, and...” he stops and looks at him, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. And Eddie is about to yell at him that Evan has the very same kid, the very same son waiting for him at home too, but Bobby continues. “We have to have a plan to get in, Eddie and you have to get in with at least other people, because if he’s hurt that bad as it seems, you’ll need help to get him out. If you enter from here, what remains of the house could collapse, we need a secondary access, something that has resisted”.

“What if there isn’t any? Nobody is left behind, Bobby. Buck won’t be left behind…” he replies.

“Cap?” the walkie crackles again and Bobby turns his gaze away from Eddie that moment, his hand still holding his shoulder tight.

“I’m here, Buck.” the captain says softly.

“It’s hell in here.” Evan manages to say, and seems to articulate with difficulty. “Don’t come in. It’s not worth... I try... I try to search, okay? Just… it’s… it’s… what’s the word? Dangerous”.

“Of course, it’s worth it, you’re in there! And danger is our job!” growls Chim. “Buckaroo what are you saying? You start looking, we are looking from here... there is definitely a way to reach you, Buck, do you understand?”.

A strange noise can be heard as he speaks, and then a fatigued puff, and again he has shortness of breath and he coughs, and there is a series of words that Eddie can’t understand, but then... “Three nephews… nieces, I don’t care… I just want three” Evan says. And it seems a disconnected, confused speech. “Chim... three kids. I want... I want... take care of Maddie… tell her it’s not scary. It doesn’t even hurt…” he mumbles and pulls a series of coughs that seem to take away all his energy, all his breath. “It isn’t a good sign that it doesn’t hurt... is it?"

Chim turns his gaze to Eddie, but doesn't say a thing.

Eddie can’t help but take another step, getting Bobby’s hand off his shoulder. “I have to go. I have to... he can’t stay under there... I need to take him home”.

“Chim?” they hear him say and everyone turns to the paramedic.

“I’m here, Buckaroo,” says Chim, his eyes shiny, and then he dries his eyes with his harm.

“Maddie doesn’t want a big wedding… she... something intimate... but... you should definitely invite our parents... they didn’t come when she... when she got married to Doug, but...” Evan mumbles, muffled and pained words. “Chim... you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to Maddie,” he adds. “And you will be a good father... so, three kids”.

“Buck...” Chim continues to say , trying to stop him.

And Eddie and Hen hurry to retrieve their full equipment and look, look for the policeman, the one who barked the orders before, because maybe he knows something about the house, or that boy, that boy who orchestrated this stunt, maybe he knows about another way in.

But then they hear Evan talk again. “If... if you have any doubts or... or hardships... ask... Hen and Karen... Bobby and Athena... Michael...” he says softly, and Eddie can figure out that he is smiling, down there, Evan is smiling. Somehow. “Ask Eddie... we know... wonderful parents and... you... you will be among them... you and Maddie will be...” he stops again and coughs.

They all hear the small dull sob that escapes Chim. “Don’t talk like that, huh? I don’t like, you know... tell me about... what were you reading today, tell me about this... While Cap tries to figure out how to reach you”.

Eddie hears him coughing on the radio, and decides he doesn’t even have time to look for secondary access. He will put on a sling and throw himself into the fire if necessary. He won’t leave Buck down there.

“A… nice article1.” Evan says and inhales deeply, there is a dark, ominous whistle in his breath. “Like... like a team of neuroscientists has discovered… found that... there is a way to communicate... to let comatose patients communicate with their loved ones,” he adds. And there is a strange and background noise, it is as if he is moving something. “I see something, I see...” he mumbles. “I think there is... there is access, or an exit... in this case...” he mutters. “Cap?”.

“I’m here, Buck. Try to reach it. We search from the outside, okay?” says Bobby. “Tell us more about that nice article, keep talking to us, Buck,” he adds, taking the equipment too and going with Eddie and Hen towards the skimpy skeleton of that house.

“What did these neuroscientists do?” Chim asks. “Keep talking to me Buck, we have to hear your voice, okay? And you have to stay awake, because if it doesn’t hurt, it’s a bad sign, you’re right. But if you talk to me, it’s good, trust me”.

Buck groans. “With... with a microphone and MRI... they’ve found that... that if patients think about doing an exercise they can answer the questions and... I... it’s hard to explain...” he mutters and breathes a long sigh, which however is broken by a series of coughs. “The fact is that...” mutters and then they hear him curse, a raw sob escaping his throat.

Eddie, Hen and Bobby move to find that fucking side entrance. It must be near the house, but with a little luck the debris left it free.

And here it is, here it is. Under an entire pile of rubble, they see something glistening. With the torches they identify it as padlock. A secondary entrance, like the entrance of an anti-hurricane refuge.

“Buck here we are, here we are!” Bobby tells him, starting to pull the beams and pipes away. “We are coming to get you”.

But the house growls a dark ominous sound, and folds even more. Eddie starts to pull Hen and Cap back, and a part of him, the selfish one regrets doing just so, while what remains of the facade collapses blocking the secondary entrance.

And now he is no longer able to control himself, now he starts throwing all that stuff away with his hands. Without thinking about the rest of the house that threatens to come down, above his head. Evan has to get out of there, Evan has to go home with him and Christopher, and they have to finish planning their summer holidays, go to the science fair at school, to the end of year play. They still have to try Ben & Jerry’s new ice cream flavours. And they have to do many other things. Better fit the time they have available.

They must have more time.

Bobby is next to him now, pulling the debris away with him. “Buck? Buck do you copy?”.

And it isn’t that long until the radio croaks: “The door... the door is blocked...” they hear Evan say all raspy and tired and a sob escapes his lips. “The door... I... I can’t─”.

“The rest of the 118 is taming the flames, Buckaroo, don’t worry , we’re coming, okay?” Hen murmurs, her voice still vibrant with her unwavering optimism and faith.

“Talk to me, Buck, you were saying... the fact is that?” they hear Chim prompt on the other side of the walkie. “Talk to me, continue, please”.

The house growls again, a deep and hard rumble, which makes Eddie shiver. Bobby pulls Eddie away just in time to prevent that what’s left of the roof from falling on him and serving him an horrible end.

It’s surreal then.

The dust and ash, rise in a whirlwind of wind, as a light spring rain begins to fall. The smoke that stands out again white and glimmering in the starless night.

Eddie freezes. They can no longer see the end of all that pile of rubble. They will need a bulldozer, or at least the others, all the people who can help them get rid of all this.

“Buck?” they hear Chim say in panic, and they see him rush to where they are. He curses under his breath.

“Evan? Evan, answer me!” Eddie shouts into the radio and launches back to the house.

“...smoke... it’s white again and... it’s a lot...” they hear him say, his voice that croaks in the walkie. “And it’s throbbing... so...”.

“A smoke explosion? Are you sure, Buck?” Bobby deduces as he reaches Eddie. “We have to go, we can’t stay here”.

“No! No! He’s down there, if there’s a smoke explosion, if... if there is even a possibility... we... he─will...” he murmurs.

“Eddie” they hear him say. And Eddie’s heart gets tighter in his chest. “Everything is alright. It’s not scary, it’s not that scary, it doesn’t even hurt... it will be a blink, huh? You know how it works... it won’t hurt… I won’t even notice, it’s all good. I’m good. I’m good”.

And Eddie knows, he knows him so much better than himself maybe, he really knows how scared he is. He knows how scary it is being alone, being trapped, no way in, no way out. But Eddie, unlike Evan, was lucky enough to find a way back.

“Ev, mi amor?” he murmurs, his lips on his radio. “You have to fight your way back here. We can't help you, but you are strong, cariño. You are brave, and resilient. You are a warrior, you are going to come back to me.” he adds, and maybe his words aren’t at all comforting for Evan, but he has to know at least that, even if they can’t actually go in there, Eddie has unbreakable faith in him.

Hen hurries to join the others, to bring them closer with the hydrants and hoses, to reduce the destructiveness of the impending explosion, while Bobby is almost as helpless as Eddie, while trying to drag him away. They don’t have an action plan, they have nothing, they can’t dig, not by hand, they wouldn’t do it in time.

Evan groans, a pained sound that scratches from the walkie.

And Eddie has to stay in control, he has to have control over his emotions, because despair would be useless, now. Not now, not yet. Not now that they can still find a way to get him out.

“Buck,” Chim starts to say again.

“The article. Yes…” he murmurs. “It seems that... that when they made the patients’ loved one talk over the microphone and... well...” he stops and takes a choked trembling breath. "Their brains have... like... all lit up like the night of July 4th” and Eddie hears him chuckle his amused laugh softly. “I was reading the interview... of one of the... the... neuroscientists and...” he stops again and inhales another short, trembling sigh. “When the brain all lights up like that means that... it means that you experience the people you love with your whole body... with everything you have of yourself. And the brain lights up like that because… because the brain is what makes us, us... and therefore...” he swallows, and it seems painful.

And Eddie bites a raw, ugly sob, Bobby’s hand tightening his grip on his shoulders, as he pulls him away .

“No! No!” Eddie growls trying to break free from him, but with little success, his strength that fails him, the adrenaline that gradually gives in to confusion and weakness.

“We had to get married, Eds.” he hears Evan say in a such a low voice, a quiet tone. “But I’m sure my brain didn’t need a ring on my finger to… to light up like the night of July 4th”.

Eddie feels his knees turn to butter as they yield under him. “You’re not going away Evan, you’re not going away, now we find a way, you hear me? You understand, Evan?” he manages to say, but his voice it’s like a whisper, broken by sobs, the tears that drop slide bitter on his face, and then he starts up again and launches himself towards the pile of rubble, he must free that fucking door, he must, he must get him out.

But Bobby holds him back, pulls him back and the both of them capitulate to the now muddy ground. And he holds him tightly against himself, and maybe he even says something but Eddie, Eddie genuinely can’t hear anything but Buck’s faint, choked laboured, breath.

And there is a moment of silence and there is only the pouring of the water of the hydrants and the rain. Then there is a dull sound, which comes from the radio and Eddie’s heart grows small while he holds his breath.

A moment later there is a long sigh, which croaks loudly on the walkie. “I don’t wish you all sort of gifts…” they can all hear him mumble, his voice kneaded and tired. “I wish you all, time... there was... there was a poem... by Elli Michler, if I remember correctly... Dir Zugedacht2... my nanny liked it so much... she always repeated it to me on my birthday... I only remember the… the… openin’ lines but…” he says, sniffing. “I wish you all what the poem says. I wish you time. I don’t remember well, I only know that... I only know that... hit home. To have time... to have time is a good thing... for everything you love for those you love... I wish you... time to live.” he adds softly and pulls a small feeble breath while sobbing loudly. “It’s not scary because you are there. And I’ve always been afraid to die alone, I’m always the one who’s left behind. But you are there, and I... you were the best thing that ever happened to me, with all the hitches, the bumps in the road... and anger. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” he slurs biting back a sob.

And Eddie really needs to say something, to say something, he needs to find the right words, comforting him, but mostly he has to say that Evan should never, never apologize. But…

“Take care of yourself… take care of Maddie, and keep an eye on Eddie please...” he adds sniffling. "You should move away now... there’s a lot of white smoke here... and my oxygen tank has started whistling a while ago so… I don’t think it will take long for everything to blow up,” he gulps, and doesn’t wait for any of them to say anything.

And Eddie can’t move, he can’t leave him. He won’t ever leave him. He’s somehow the one who’s left behind. And it’s funny because once he was the one who always left.

“Eddie?” Evan says softly, after a short minute of silence.

And Eddie sees the others turning off the radio, to leave them a moment.

“Evan, don’t... just don’t” he begins to say . “Don’t, please…”.

“Eddie” Evan quips slowly. “Listen to me,huh? You made me so fucking immensely happy. And I hope I made you even half as happy as you’ve made me...” he sighs and hears him making a lot of noise, he seems to be moving something, he seems to be still looking a way to get out. “You know I’d do anything to get back to you, Eddie, to fight my way back… But, let’s face reality. As shitty as it is.” he mumbles. “I may not get out of here and...”.

“Evan please...” Eddie manages to say, trying not to break now.

“Let me tell you, okay? Let me tell you… Let me talk to you a bit more...” he murmurs. “Because If I stop talking I’m positive... I’m sure I won’t have the strength to...” the voice that comes out hoarse from his throat, like a gasp. “I love you, and you are my forever”.

And it like a statement, strong and clear, and it takes Eddie’s breath away the sole idea that clearly there’s a but, after that incipit. And he grits his teeth and waits, biting back on his tears, the inside of his cheek that hurts between his gritted teeth.

“But, I don’t have to be yours. I don’t have to be your forever. One day you will move on, you will move on and… you will get through this, and you'll have to do it for Christopher and for yourself... And when you’ll think about me, if you do, I hope your brain lights up at least a little bit, always...” he adds sniffling. “You made me, oh… so very happy.” he repeats. “And, please... tell Christopher I wasn’t afraid, it wasn’t scary. Even if... yeah it’s dark and... and it’s a little scary…” he heaves out a pained sigh. “Maybe in another life you and I will be luckier. But I’m already lucky enough, you know? Because you... you chose me. Because you never left me. I’m sorry to be the one who leaves you.” he murmurs, and inhales again, and it seems to hurt a lot.

“Evan.” he croaks out, his voice choked in his throat. “You have to, you have to fight a little more for me... it will only take a lot more water and... we will get you out, okay? You just have to... you survived a bomb ... a tsunami... an embolism... a…” and he bites back a raw sob. He can’t cry, Evan doesn’t need him crying now, Evan needs a strong version of this broken shell he is now. He can’t cry. Not now. He must be strong, he must be in control, he must do it for Evan. “You just have to grit your teeth a little bit more, okay? Buy us a bit of time...”.

And maybe Evan is answering him when it happens, maybe Evan says something to him, but his voice is swallowed by the roar, by that impossible roar. That loud roar, that sudden bang that rips the sky open. And from the remains of that house a blaze of dust and wind rises, the rain now beats more insistently, and the hydrants splash at full power.

The debris that splash away. And there’s a fuss of people who crouch to avoid being collateral damage too.

And Eddie is there.

Without voice to shout.

Without tears to cry.

Without words to scream.

His broken heart that drums in his ears, it’s the only noise he can hear.

His hand and his knees in the mud while adrenaline lives his body altogether and he freezes there.

Broken.

Hollow.

Empty.

He bites the air in front of his nose as he pulls off his helmet. Bobby pulling him back, in a strange and awkward embrace.

And then Eddie no longer hears a thing.

There is a moment, a very specific time when their rescue actions become body recoveries. Usually they wait, they wait for the flames to be completely tamed, that the area is secured, they wait it all to end.

And that’s what happens, once again. Even today.

Eddie is on the ground, Hen who tried to pull him up not so long ago, when Bobby left him, collapsed next to him and hugged him. And he doesn’t know how long they’ve been there.

And he tries to repeat his routine. The old one.

His and Christopher’s morning routine. He tries, so hard, to remember how it was before, how it was before, without Buck, without Evan twisting it, sweeping his world beneath his feet. His anchoring mechanism, his coping mechanism. Eddie must remain in control, for Christopher, for Christopher and for his own heart, all shattered and broken.

But then he thinks about his son, and he tries to imagine what it will be like tomorrow. How will it be to tell Christopher that, that Evan… that his Bucky won’t ever return home.

And then the world starts moving again, the world starts moving again, or better it never stopped.

Bobby is saying something, orders in mouth. Chim has the phone in his hands and his eyes are devastated by the sole idea of having to call Maddie, heavily pregnant Maddie. And Eddie can’t feel anything except that emptiness. Undying and transcendent. That weighs on him and digs into what’s left of his shattered heart.

And for a moment Eddie imagines him coming out of the rubble like a phoenix. Something epic, something impossible, something heroic. Something that, sure, only Buck could do.

But it’s all just illusions and, and sad impossible dreams.

However resilient one may be, however strong one may be, none can survive this.

It’s a moment, but then he hears Hen gasp and shift, forcing him to move too, from where he collapsed against her.

“Eddie, Eddie!” she calls him, her voice vibrant with confused, mixed emotions, or maybe Eddie can’t, just can’t understand what’s filling her voice.

But then he moves his gaze over the house and sees him.

Evan? Evan!

And even before feeling his own body move, he’s already launching himself towards him, towards Evan who struggles out of that pit made of rubble and embers and flames, he drags himself out of there, trudging with his legs shaking.

And Eddie leaps forward and runs, runs at breakneck speed, until he arrives and supports him. His body colliding with Buck’s, who lets out an huffed, pained groan, their turnout coats screeching in that strange embrace. Evan can’t stand for long and his legs give in as he collapses and takes away with all his weight Eddie’s stability.

And Eddie forgot his army training alongside his firefighter training, all protocols swept away all together, he just forgot what you should do in cases like this, he forgot everything. His hands that tremble as they run to the helmet, but Chim and Hen are by him before he can even notice it and hurry to give Evan the help he needs.

They take off his helmet, and gently but steadily fasten a collar around his neck. And he has an open eye and a faint smile on his lips. And he looks for Eddie’s hand, in an uncoordinated movement, and he hurries to take that hand and grips it tight, and heaves out a shaky breath.

And Eddie doesn’t have words in his mouth, or in his head. He forgot how to work, how to function, and that’s okay. He has a very good reason not to know, Evan is alive and nothing else matters.

“Fuck” he can hear Chim say.

“It wa’t th’t bad bef’r" Evan slurs, his voice weak, as he points his open eye on Eddie and smiles more and tightens his faint grip on his hand. “I f’nd a... a niche... ah…” he coughs and blood mounts in his mouth.

There’re hissing sounds when he breathes in and out. And finally, Eddie has the courage to move his gaze from Evan’s face to see that bright pinkish foaming blood that swells on his turn-out coat. He has a sucking chest wound. Dios.

Meanwhile Evan must have closed his eyes, because Hen hurries to massage his chest with his knuckles “Buckaroo, hey, we’ll take you to the hospital, okay? You have to stay awake, huh? Show us your baby blues, will ya?”.

And Evan barely opens his eyes and coughs painfully, hissing while sucking in air, he has all his teeth stained with blood and the sound of when he inhales is a horrible rattle that croaks deep in his throat. And slowly he closes his eyelids again.

Eddie feels it, that frenzy, he remembers the training, the field doctor who is in him is kicking in, but, but there is a protocol, and the protocol is there for a reason. Evan is his love, his future and with enough luck his forever, and Eddie most definitely can’t take care of him, as much as he would like, he wouldn’t think straight. And so, he only focuses his gaze on Evan, while with the help of his teeth he takes off his glove and rests his free hand on Evan’s face. “Ev, awake. You have to stay awake, for me, okay?”.

And when he manages to his eyes, Eddie is lost in him again. He wouldn’t be able to help him even with all his willpower and all that control that usually governs his life.

And therefore, he isn’t the one who moves, however he knows at first hand what to do in these cases, he really can’t move. Chim is the one who disinfects his hands quickly and put on sterile gloves, and hastens to open his turn-out coat, and removes all the loose clothing covering the wound. There’s something, like a botched bandage, all balled up to cover the wound, soaked with blood. And Eddie looks away again, all that blood, he doesn’t want to see all that blood, not on Evan, not on anyone else, but especially not on Evan.

And Eddie doesn’t even want to understand what could have caused such an injury, he just wants to look at him, at his stupidly beautiful face even now, all pale and in pain, while the others have to hurry to cover the wound and stabilize him before taking him away.

He sees them moving in the periphery of his visual field, he sees Hen and Chim moving. It is probably Hen who moves quickly to cover the open wound with her hand, trying to put the right pressure, and the small groan that escapes from Buck’s lips gives him this confirmation.

“It’s alright,” Eddie says. “You are with us now, you are with us, everything is fine” he repeats slowly, and doesn’t really care how much his voice trembles or how chocked it may sound.

And Evan swallows painfully and looks at him, and Eddie opens his mouth and perhaps wants to say something, something more. The words of just before they echo in his head.

It’s as if talking helps him stay alive, it’s like it’s the only thing that keeps him alive.

“Talk to me, mi amor, please” he only manages to say.

“Buckaroo?” Chim demands softly. “You have to exhale, okay? You have to exhale, take all the air out, please”.

And Evan with terrible difficulty manages to throw out all the air he can, coughing bitterly then.

And Eddie doesn’t look up from his face, he just moves his free hand to cup his chick, to touch with the tip his thumb that adorable birthmark above his eye, which now, now that Evan is so pale and that the night slams on his face, now that the smoke is a faint, distant memory and there are their trucks spinning lights lighten up the night, it is even more evident.

Someone, maybe Bobby, is passing Chim some tape, to fix some medical plastic and gauze on the wound, and make sure that the air doesn’t get in.

And then, before they place him on the stretcher, someone from their team has brought there, they moves Evan on his side and he moans painfully.

“It’s all good, you’re fine, we’ll take you away, now,” murmurs Bobby .

Evan looks at him for a moment, his eyes a little confused and then he lets out a groan hoarser than the others, while he breathlessly draws his breath.

Eddie does nothing but hold his hand, then, as he accompanies him to the ambulance.

And while Hen is rushing at the driving seat, Eddie goes up behind with him: he doesn’t have the courage to leave him alone, even if he is with Chim, who is more than capable to take care of him and is already fixing his heart monitor, and a bag of blood, and a oxygen mask on his face. But Eddie doesn’t have the courage to leave Evan, never.

Bobby climbs in front and orders Hen to really mash his paw down, sirens blaring.

And Eddie closes his eyelids for a moment, and tries to catch up a breath, tries to swallow back the tears that are gathering in the corners of his eyes, and bends to kiss a edge of Evan’s forehead. His hair is flattened and wet with sweat, and reek of soot. He doesn’t even feel how long it will take for the hospital, he doesn’t even notice he is talking to Evan slowly, little comforting nothings in Spanish, something that reminds him of his abuela when he was sick, as a child, and she took care of him.

He cups his cheek, and Evan smiles weakly behind the mask, his eyes bleary and tired. “Luv’ ya” he murmurs.

“You are doing so good, Ev, you are so brave, and strong and...” he manages to say. “I love you too, so much. Hang on, mi amor”.

Evan closes his eyes for a moment, a second too long.

And its because Eddie is so focused on Evan, his eyes fixed on his face, that maybe he notices even before the heart monitor starts to alert with that mechanic whistle, that terrible, frightening sound, even before that Buck starts to gasp for a moment, even before that blood that mounts in his mouth again splashes on the facemask, even before that blood, like pinkish foam, pools under the medical film soaking the gauze that covers the wound.

Eddie turns him over on his Back, so that he has free access to his chest, and moves his head back to avoid the backflow, to help him breath. His chest motionless.

And in a matter of seconds, he places the heel o f his and on the centre of Evan’s chest, and the heel of his other hand on the top of the other lacing his fingers together. He keeps his arms straight and his shoulder directly over his hands. And starts compressing, pushing hard and fast on Evan’s chest. He lets the chest rise completely before pushing down again. And again, And again. And he doesn’t even notice that he repeats like a mantra, out loud Please, please, please, please, please ...

Until Chim moves on him with an AED in hand. And while turning it on he removes all the arranged dressing, attaches the AED pads before saying “Stand clear” and Eddie moves fast enough to let him press the shock button.

And when Evan doesn’t react, his body tense for a mere second, but his heart monitor doesn’t respond, Eddie throws himself on him again, continuing with the compressions.

Again.

And perhaps he also feels his ribs give in under his thrusts, under his compressions, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop.

And every time Chim presses the shock button, and Evan doesn’t respond, Eddie’s own heart leaps in his chest.

And Eddie doesn’t have the courage to look up, when those interminable two minutes pass, and Evan gives no signs of response. Because it’s all so dramatically similar to that other time, to that other circumstance. And he doesn’t have the courage, and he’s selfish and just, just wants Evan. He just wants Evan back.

And so he goes on and on, and Chim follows him, and occasionally presses the shock button, and increases the voltage, until they arrive a few miles from the hospital and Eddie looks up. The captain’s voice that echoes far in his ears. “Enough, Eddie, stop”.

Chim reaches out and puts his hands on his. His nose curled while he sniffles and shakes his head. And Eddie can’t connect, he doesn’t even recognize his voice, when that groan runs raw and hard from his throat. And collapses, exhausted, the shoulders that now hurt like hell, on Evan. On Evan who doesn’t breathe.

And maybe he doesn’t say it out loud. Or maybe he screams it. Or maybe he just murmurs it over his chest. Please. Please. Please. Stay with me. Please.

But he can’t hear her words, no sound coming from his chest.

Until there is that whistle in his breath, and that little cough and a dull grunt.

And there is that sigh of relief from Chim. “You gonna give me grey hair, Buckaroo” he hears him say.

And Eddie turns his gaze to Evan and, and, heck. Hot damn. He has his eyes open and the bewildered look.

And it takes an handful of seconds, nothing more, for them to pull in the hospital, the doors of the ambulance open in no time and there are doctors and nurses who are waiting for them out there and they take away Evan from his hands, and Eddie isn’t able to say anything.

Chim jumps out of there, updating the doctors and Bobby and Hen surround Eddie, as if it were him the one in needs of support. And perhaps he is, because he is exhausted now, now that his eyes become clouded, and he feels so empty, so hollow, and his colleagues, his family, must help him to stand up.

Or maybe it’s just because he’s all broke, again, now that they’re dragging Evan away, now that he can’t control the situation anymore. And he collapses in the end. There is nothing more to keep in check. Not even his emotions. Not now. He doesn’t have to be strong now.

Not now. Not now that he has white smoke in his eyes and he feels dizzy altogether. Not now that he isn’t in control. Not now that he can’t watch over him. Not now that Evan is out of his reach.

___

A/N: *Shields her head with a both her arms* - please don't kill me, at least let me finish all my WIPS! (let me live forever to do so, I'm a procrastinator!)Okay, so, without furhter ado... If you reached the end of this work without wanting to kill me? , you are now my favourite person in the world. Thank you so much for taking your time and use it to you know, read a angsty 9k words chapter, you could have cooked a whole course meal instead, or I don't know, read like 9 1k words stories *laughs nervously* Feel free to leave a comment, a kudo, bookmark, curse me, or whatever! I'm very open to all kinds of things! I hope you enjoyed (???) this first chapter as much as I did (i really did! - and I teared up a lot doing so, proofreading and rereading all over again to cut down something). I hope what you read was clear enough - I really can't English right now *ahahah*, so if you find something that makes your skin crawl, misspellings or mistakes of every sorts please let me know. You'll have to wait a week or so for the next one. Now a couple of marginalia: 1. Here one scientific article about MRI-mediated communication with comatose patients, you may also want to read all the implications about this study - and all the ones that came before and after this, the majority of which are open and you can google it. The implications of this study is really massive: I remember from my days back in university this amazing conference with my neuropsychology professor who talked about this and presented a very similar study, and it gave me literal chills and tears. What Buck says it's a paraphrase of what she said back then. "You experience the people you love with all your body, with all you have, that's why your brain lights up like that, that's why your body reacts like that, that's why you produce all those neurotransmitters and molecoles! Your brain is the thing that makes you, you, and mediates all of your experiences. Love is physiology and chemistry and yet it is so much more, it is unknowable and transcendent", and I think I'll tresure her words as long as I leave. This is the power of our brain. And it's amazing. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk! 2. Here the poem. Stay tuned for more! And please, take care of yourself, drink your water, sleep tight and stay safe at home if you can!

tagging @buckleystrand; @sparksfly-buddie; @chrrlees; @lieselfh and whoever wants to be tagged!

#buddie fic #9 1 1 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #heavy angst #angst with happy ending #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #cpr #established relationship #major character injury #lamalefixwrites #freaking long thing #over 9k words

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lamalefix · 3 years

Text

Can't have you disappear [3/4] (also on ao3)

!!!! extra chapter out soon !!!!

Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)

Characters: Eddie Diaz,Evan "Buck" Buckley, Christopher Diaz, Ana Flores

Tags: Medical Procedures, Blood, Major Character Injury, Developing Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Episode: s04e13 Suspicion

After a while, Buck can’t really say how long, maybe it’s been hours, doctors decide to move Eddie in a private room, on the sixth floor.

So, Buck has to leave his side in order for them all to have enough maneuvering space. But, as soon as Buck let’s go of Eddie’s hand, the man starts to stir. And Buck steps closer to his bed again, so that he can hush him to sleep drawing circles on his scalp with his fingertips, while the nurse tries to put a face mask to cover his lips and nose.

And in just a matter of seconds, Eddie is again out like a light, and before they start to wheel him out the room, Buck steps out, into the corridor so he can follow them into the other unit. He sends a quick update text to everyone, abuela and all the others long gone home after checking in a couple of hours ago.

He then follows the nurse and the doctor that are still talking in medical, a language that now sounds like something foreign. At least, now Buck doesn’t need to know, or understand completely every single medical term, they aren’t even talking about Eddie right now, because Eddie is out of danger. Alive. He almost wasn’t, yes, but that’s not the thing Buck needs to focus on.

He can’t follow them in the same elevator, so he takes the stairs, and climbs them three steps a time, so he can be at the third floor as fast as they are. Burning energies for all those flights of stairs might be helpful for his mind to go blank, right in the few minutes he can’t see Eddie.

He is fast, even when tired, even if his leg hurts the most now, but he must be there when they push Eddie out of the elevator. And he is there, a second or so before the elevator’s door open and they start to walk again in the corridor. But this time Eddie shifts, and groans, and opens his eyes, and moves his legs, kicking, and tears the mask from his face, biting the air in front of his nose. “-uck?” he calls with low, raspy voice.

The nurse stops in his heels and looks at the doctor for a second, before searching for a clean mask, while Buck sprints, and reaches the bedside so that Eddie can see him right there and then, and makes a grabby gesture to the nurse, “Here, let me help you with that mask” he murmurs.

And Eddie wrinkles his nose, something that might be a bit painful because he closes his eyes and groans a low curse against the nasal ventilator. But when he re-opens his eyes, Eddie seems quite happy. “…y’er here”.

“Where else would I be?” he asks, slipping both the rubber bands behind his ears, carding his fingers in the hair on the back of his head. “You asked me to stay, I’d never go away”.

And Eddie does one of his weird-whole-face expressions, that to be honest are as goofy as adorable, all curled eyebrows and lips. Like all realization and confusion, . “‘vrytin’ spins”.

“That’s ‘cause you are moving, Eddie. These kind nurses are wheeling you around on a bed…” Buck says, chuckling. “We are going to your new room”.

“Oh?” is all that Eddie says, lips curled into a tiny ‘O’, and that’s clear even if now he has a mask on, eyes big and languid, as he moves his hand on Buck’s one on the siderail.

“You should sleep a bit more, you know?” Buck hums.

“…r’u stayin’?” Eddie asks, voice all kneaded by painkillers and sleep, and blood loss and maybe something else, that Buck doesn’t need to know, really.

And the nurse chuckles softly.

“Yeah” Buck answers with a quick nod. “I sent everyone home”.

“R’lly?” Eddie slurs, closing his eyes.

“Yes, yes” Buck repeats softly. “Now, close your eyes, I’ll be there when you wake”.

“Yeah?” Eddie pleads, voice muffled by sleep.

“Promise” Buck nods.

The new room is tinier and less bright than the other. The walls are pale dahlia with a thick light bluish line in the center, in hospitals, the decorations are designed to be restful, but more often than not come off as akin to choices you’ll do if you own a funeral home. The floor, linoleum tile, is white with small purple dots at every corner.

After accommodating Eddie’s in the center of the room, the nurse gave some instructions about the lights and the call button, the phone and so on, so Buck decided to turn off all the lights aside of the entryway one, so that if Eddie wakes, he can see him there.

Eddie sleeps intermittently, after that. The heart monitor beeping and marking time slowly.

Every now and then, he opens his eyes to search for Buck, and every time Buck squeezes his hand back, a smile, beautiful cracks on his face like a raising sun. And he hums in contentment, when Buck starts to murmur something under his breath to lull him back to sleep.

And it’s only for that, that Buck doesn’t sleep at all. That’s what he repeats himself. To take care of Eddie and make sure that he knows he’s there. And not because he can feel all the nightmarish vision of Eddie on the ground, blood pooling under his still, so still, body, pushing behind his tired eyelashes.

He can’t sleep, he can break a bit now, but not sleep, that’s clear. He can’t sleep because Eddie is still in a hospital bed, in bad shape, even if he is all alive and talking, now snoring, and all. But… he can’t sleep. Sleep means letting your guard down, and he can’t do that. Not now.

Abuela came in, first thing in the morning, with Pepa, and left after a few recommendations. He called Carla, in order to tell Christopher that his dad is alive, and safe, and snoring like a dormouse, that made him giggle, he promised to call him, when Eddie wakes.

He talked briefly with Bobby, over the phone, about what to do next with the sniper still on the run. He caught a tiny, super tiny shift in the dynamics between Bobby and Athena, when they were about to leave last night, but really didn’t want to dig in deeper. That’s not something he should do, not now, at least.

So he stays there, vigil, because when you keep vigil, you have to stay, you know, well vigil, his two still awake and bouncing brain cells suggest, and watches over Eddie.

It’s only in the late morning that Eddie starts to stir gently. And it’s marvelous to see. It’s like a tiny dewdrop started to move along his nerves, and tendons, starting from his tiptoe, slow but steady, to his fingertips, to his eyes, to his mouth, giving new life in every centimeter, in every cell of his body.

He looks less pale, now. Paler than normal, but less pale than before.

When he opens his eyes, this time, they look refreshed, rested, focused. A bit glassy, but not as much as before.

Buck smiles softly. “Good morning sunshine”.

And Eddie closes his eyes, again, the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You are here”.

“Wouldn’t miss your awakening for anything in the world” Buck replies wrinkling his nose, as Eddie does the same.

“I didn’t think you could be such a flatterer” Eddie says, throaty, moving with his head enough so he can give a better look at Buck. “Have you slept?”.

“The chair isn’t that comfy” Buck shrugs. “And I know for certain that that bed isn’t either”.

“Not that bad” Eddie debates.

Buck huffs a small sigh. “Wanna drink something?”.

Eddie nods, “We need to talk and… I─I have to call Chris”.

“I already talked to him over the phone, told him when you’d wake up I’d let you call him” he says getting the glass of ice from the bedside table.

“You…” Eddie starts to say, but Buck helps a spoon with shredded ice in his mouth.

“I had to tell him… that you, that you wouldn’t get home last night” Buck says simply, then. “It was… hard”.

Eddie looks at him, a weird, incognizable expression in his eyes. But then he closes them, and sighs softly. “That’s what being parents is. Hard talks and so on… Bobby said it’s like walking with the heart outside your body, and that’s true…” he articulates, but he’s breathless after all this talking.

Buck helps another spoon of ice to his mouth. “I’m not his parent, Eddie.” he murmurs. “I’m just a friend that helps out and chills at your house more often than others,”.

Eddie chews the ice before swallowing it. “That’s exactly why we need to talk” he decides, a smartass smile curling on his lips. “Can we call Chris, now?”.

Buck gets his phone and taps on Carla’s contact. “Here, I’ll just…” he starts to say getting up and gesturing to the door.

“Stay” Eddie asks, and this time it doesn’t sound like a plea, but like an order.

And he can’t really move, now. Not if Eddie wants him there. So he sits down again and waits there, next to that bed, on that terrible chair.

“Hey Carla, guess who’s awake?” Eddie jabbers, all happy and playful. And Buck has to wonder, how long this will last, how long Eddie will have the strength to keep the barriers up and leave all that happened to him out of his proximity, out of his heart, far away from the people he loves.

He hears a muffled sound of pure joy, and then Carla starts to argue, in her scolding tone. And Eddie chuckles a little a sharp shiver of pain at the movement of his diaphragm that leaves him once again breathless.

And Buck leans forward to help him up a bit, wrinkling the cushion, and rubbing circles over his chest as if to let him breath better.

Eddie smiles back at him, mouthing a silent thank you. “You are right, I’m sorry. I know…” he sighs then, rolling his eyes before looking at Buck with a soft smirk. "Can I talk to him, now?”.

When Chris’s voice comes from the speaker, all brittle and breathy, Buck moves his hand away.

Eddie’s eyes glimmer bright and watery when he hears his son’s voice, and his lips twitch at the corners, for a second. “Hey buddy” he croaks, voice low and hoarse. “I know, I know… I can’t wait to see you too, I miss you so much”.

Buck closes his eyes, and tries to let the gear roll back in, but that doesn’t work this time. Every string in his heart now aches to feel every single emotion, but he needs control now, not feelings, now there is no time to break, not when Eddie is hurting and aching and trying his best to not let the walls come donw. So he lets them talk for a while, switching off his brain as much as he can, so that he can stay here but even let them have a bit of privacy. Easier said than done.

“Yeah, I know you are” Eddie chuckles softly again, and this time it doesn’t seem to hurt as much, because he doesn’t hiss in pain after that. “Yeah he is with me, like you told him to do. You know how much he loves you”.

And that’s the moment when Buck opens his eyes, and looks at Eddie, a furrowed brow.

“Hey Chris, what do you think if Bucks comes to live with us? For a bit?” Eddie says quietly looking straight in Buck’s eyes, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

And Buck is about to say something but he can clearly hear Chris all loud, silvery, happy over the phone. “Why not forever?”.

“Maybe even forever if we are good enough for him” Eddie adds.

And Buck looks at him, mind blank for a whole moment, he maybe mouths something but he doesn’t even know what, but Eddie heard him and just does one of his stupid all crouched face expression, one that seems to say a silent don't worry.

He can’t hear what Chris says now but Eddie chuckles again. “Yeah, she’ll be your friend but not being around our house as much… but I’m sure she’ll love to hang out with you sometimes…”.

“’Cause we have Buck!” comes all boisterous and happy from the phone.

“Exactly, we have Buck” Eddie nods, and repeats all the same so that he’s sure that Buck is listening clear enough. “Now I have to go buddy but, I’ll be home as fast as I can, and know that I have Buck with me so…” he stops and listens to his kid. “Yes, exactly. Buck says hi too”.

Buck stays still for a while it seems that almost-dead-yesterday Eddie, is now having the moment of his life. All cocky and bully smirk on his face. “Did I break you?”.

Buck rolls his eyes. “You are ridiculous”.

“You are” Eddie replies, wrinkling his nose in a stupid pleased expression. “We need to talk”.

“Where are you going to start from? Asking me to move in, without asking me to move in, or… you know talk in general about… what are we Eddie?” he babbles, all the word crumbling down on his tongue.

Eddie closes his eyes, and hums a happy stupid sigh. “You kept talking”.

Buck widens his eyes, that now burn with something, like tears and disbelief. He can’t find his words, now, but somehow talked, at some point.

“Let’s skip past near death clichés, alright? The one you see in the movies, where life restarts… and replays all the beautiful moments I lived…”, he slides his hand in Buck’s, squeezing it. “But you kept talking. When you were… y’know? Saving my─my ass, you kept talking”.

“I don’t remember,” he admits. “I wasn’t thinking, it was just…”.

Eddie squeezes his hand again, in the clear attempt to comfort him.

“You were reaching out for me, I had to do something and…”, Buck stops and shakes his head, his heart trembling in his chest. And he curses under his breath. This isn’t the moment to break, fuck, this is the moment he says something stupid, or cheesy, and just leans in in this weird open hearted talk, about sentiments, and life and death situations and who saved whom. Because Buck for sure knows that Eddie saved him way before he saved Eddie.

“You saved me, that’s all that matters now. You saved me. Even before this… this whole shooting thing” Eddie murmurs in such a low voice, that makes every single thing in Buck shiver and wobble, aching painfully and oh, God, lovingly. And this isn’t clearly the right moment, they haven’t even dated yet, let alone acknowledged theri feelings. “And I took my sweet time to get to the point to… to finally let me fall into the right place”.

“I…” Buck starts to say, but Eddie interrupts him.

“I know, I know, trust me...” he says, and Buck is certain that Eddie knows, like perfectly well what he was going to tell. “It’s too fast, I know. I know…” Eddie murmurs. “I was like… dating Ana up ‘til yesterday and now I’m asking you to move in with me and Chris without giving you a choice and… like hell you don’t have a choice, you can tell me to fuck off and.. and… and…” he mumbles, a nervous trainwreck. Buck has never seen him so jumpy, almost worried. “God, I’m not even sure you are…”

“I am,” Buck assures, easy and fast, smiling.

“You are?” Eddie repeats slack-mouthed, staring at him with his stupid doe eyes.

“I am, oh God, I am” Buck repeats leaning in to mouth a small peck on the back of his hand, and Eddie’s fingers tremble on his own.

“Why didn’t you… say anything?” he asks.

“Because I didn’t want to ruin anything. We are pretty good as friends, right?” Buck shrugs, simply. “Also, Ana seemed perfect”.

“She was just the easy choice, not the best one” Eddie replies. “But… you know, you look around and search for something that you already have and… and just ignore what you have and… I don’t know if─”.

“It makes sense, Eddie, yes” Buck acknowledges, drawing tiny circles with his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand.

“And then I couldn’t move, you’d say at some point if you get shot twice the second time doesn’t hurt that much… but…” Eddie rolls his eyes and twirls his lips, in a tiny grimace, that may be some kind of pained smile, something that he does when he tries not to let the emotions flow. “I couldn’t move… and it was scary because you were… there and… and I just wanted to reach out and… help you clean that smudge of blood, my blood, from your face… from that shirt that, god… fits you so well. And I couldn’t think nothing aside of… what will Chris and you do if I…” his breath is now short and harsh and his eyes look wild, glassing with unshed tears and fear. “I was so scared”.

Buck moves closer to the bed, and cups his cheeks, but doesn’t say anything at first, but then he sighs. “I was too”.

Eddie closes his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath. “So much… All that time wasted while I just tried to… to believe that I was happy with Ana, for Christopher’s sake but… we are happier with you, the happiest, and I knew I screwed everything up because I couldn’t be with you. Because I didn’t want to give a name to that thing we had... that thing i wanted to have with you... and… and I was losing everything there... and… you know, I… I just”.

“I’m not going to kiss you right here, you know?” Buck says, playful, and Eddie whines. “We are going to take it slow, and heal. I’ll go home with you and help out and… everything but, you need to woo me, Eddie”.

“You literally got my shirt off… you should be the one to take me to dinner, at least…” Eddie says, eyes glassy and tired but a cocky smile on his lips.

“Oh god” Buck groans. “I couldn’t even think about anything back then… I just had to do something. Definitely didn’t savor the moment, we’ll need to replay that… maybe without life-death situations and blood”.

“Definitely without blood” Eddie nods. “You saved me.” Eddie murmurs, his big and tired eyes now have a look that maybe only Buck and Christopher know like that. It’s fondness. So tender and amazing. And Buck forgets how to talk for a while even if he wanted to retort and just scoff off, again, about what he did. “Don’t even try that, just… it’s the truth you saved me, even before I… I knew I needed it. You helped with Chris, you helped me… I knew I could rely on you and… you were always there, a comforting presence… for us, for me”.

“You did the same with me” Buck says, softly. “That’s how friendship works,”.

“That’s how… we work.” Eddie corrects him, closing his eyes with a tiny smile spreading on his lips.

“Maybe we were meant for each other from the very start” Buck tries to say, in the attempt not to sound too cheesy or romantic, or just disillusioned. But, well, that’s how feelings really work, talking at ease. He can let his guard down a bit.

“We are going to take it slow,” Eddie promises in a whisper. “So, we can have time to heal and… take care of each other, and see… we can try, just… promise that we will talk, mh?”.

“I’m the talkative one, you know.” Buck nods.

“We need to talk more, about other arrangements like… I want you to be Chris’s guardian and… forget it for now … I don’t want to pressure yet so…” Eddie stops, gulps and does something with his face a knowing look, all brows and eyes and lips moving into a weird, funny, stupid expression.

Buck huffs out a small laugh, “You just asked me to move in, like a moment ago“.

“I didn’t really ask” Eddie asserts, curling his lips. He looks tired again, now, but happier. “But I don’t want to waste any more time”.

Buck rolls his eyes. “You’ll need to wait, tho. Because I don’t want our first kiss to be here, in a hospital bed. I’d picture it in the backseat of the uber we are going to take home”.

“Seems about right” Eddie nods voice croaky, closing his eyes slowly, like his eyelids weigh more now. “I’m a bit sleepy. I hate painkillers”.

“They are working their magic, you know?” Buck murmurs, mouthing a kiss on the top of his hand, minding, as always, that big bruise where the IV enters his skin, and Eddie heaves that tiny satisfied sigh. “I’ll call abuela, and when she comes here I’ll go to the station, we can’t leave them two men down”.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Eddie says, shifting in his bed enough so he can rest better with his head on the pillow. “I really want that kiss, y’know?”.

“Oh I want the whole package, too, so I’ll make sure to come back in one piece to you. So that I can move in when you get discharged” Buck nods.

Eddie smiles a fond, stupid, adorable smile. “The whole package sounds about nice… take my saint Christopher’s medal with you, like a charm”.

Buck is taken aback by those words. “I can’t possibly accept it”.

“I mean, I can’t watch over you if I’m in bed,” Eddie does a tiny shrug, and then hisses in pain again. “Just give it back when you come back here” he adds, words slurring on his tongue.

Buck groans, fishes his hand in the box of Eddie’s belongings and takes the necklace. “Alright, alright. Just sleep now, I’ll be here tonight”.

“It’s too soon to tell you?” Eddie asks, with a small voice, eyes closed and breathing thick and even.

Buck smirks. “Definitely, we need to talk and have a date first”.

“We did a lot of dates” Eddie slurs.

And Buck is about to retort, to say something, but Eddie dozes off and snores, like when babies are talking a moment, and the next they fall asleep. And he huffs a small laugh, tiny and crystalline.

Marveling his future for a minute, it starts to seem bright and hopeful. All the bumps in the road are still there, and what will happen next is still uncertain and confused but they’ll have time to heal, to get better, and to love. As weird and amazing as it sounds.

#lamalefixwrites #s04x13 coda #does it still count as a coda right?#911 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #major character injury #angst with a happy ending #angsty anon's tag #askbox always open #now with a bonus chapter #can't have you disappear

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lamalefix · 4 years

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A whisper of smoke 4/5

read ch1; ch2; ch3

[read this work on ao3]

Those first moments are unreal, like a dream, and Eddie doesn’t even know how he feels.

Buck stays awake for a while, he also seems attentive to what they tell him. But then he closes his eyes and goes back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness. He can’t open his eyes spontaneously, not yet, but when someone calls him, or just talks to him he slowly opens his eyes.

Christopher talks to him quietly, he tells him about the school projects in which Eddie tried to help but is not good with glue, with papier-mâché, with brushes, and Buck flashes a crooked smile at Eddie. Christopher talks about the books he read, asking from time to time if his Bucky remembers them. Buck makes himself understood, with his eyes, with gestures, in that soundless way says he remembers. And maybe he says it to make Christopher happy, and the boy’s eyes shine so bright now. And Eddie didn’t even remember how bright they could be.

Maddie keeps her head down all the time, grips her brother’s hand so gently, yet after looking at him at the beginning, she has lowered her eyes and pointed them elsewhere, on that thin wrist, on the arms that are now so skinny, pale. She doesn’t look him in the face even when every now and then Evan seeks her gaze, and he frowns, but does nothing to push her, he just holds her hand, loosely and dearly at the same time.

And then he closes his eyes and his breathing becomes slow and regular and in a matter of moments sleep has the upper hand.

This is the moment when Maddie leaves under the pretext of warning the others, of leaving another moment for Eddie and Christopher with him, with Evan sleeping.

Eddie can’t give a name to what he feels, seeing his son fall asleep near Buck who, although his movements are all uncoordinated and not very fluid, holds Christopher protectively against himself, even while he sleeps. He can’t say how far his happiness goes, now that when he reaches out to caress his hair, Evan moves to find his contact better, his touch, a half smile curving his lips. He has always done this, since they first slept together, he has always looked for him. Even when Eddie goes to bed later, even when Evan is sound asleep, he moves a part of himself, whichever limb it is, to get closer to Eddie’s body. And it’s a bit like coming home, more or less, it’s like going back to their little bubble.

When Maddie comes back in, Eddie already knows that she has spoken to others, and that he will have to warn his family too. Abuela and Pepa, and then his parents, his sisters.

His parents have been very present from the first moment, from that night, from the fire, and have even come to see him a couple of times in these past months, to fill his pantry and prepare dinner for a while, for him and Christopher. His father has always been unhappy with that situation, with the fact that Eddie allowed Christopher to come and visit in hospital with Buck, with Buck who, probably, as far as they knew, would never wake up. They quarrelled, as they usually do, ended up talking about life choices, moral judgments, and Eddie, fuming with anger, decided to postpone. He had other priorities, back then. But now, now Evan is awake, and Christopher is happy, and they can stop worrying.

They don’t talk, he and Maddie, it’s not the time to talk. But Eddie knows that expression that Maddie is wearing, he also had it on for a long time, in quite other circumstances. It’s the expression of those who have stopped fighting, of those who have knowingly decided to throw in the towel. It’s guilt, it’s pain, it’s remorse, and Eddie doesn’t really have time for it now. Because going to unpack what she feels, right now, will deprive them of everything they have just found. They will find the way and the time to face this speech, but certainly the day isn’t today.

And then they sit there watching him sleep. A sleep in which he moves, to get closer to Christopher, or to seek more warmth of Eddie’s hand, that continues to gently caress his hair. And every now and then he mumbles, something incomprehensible since he has no voice, and his lips curl in his sleep. He is alive, and although the climb will be steep, the road long, they will be fine in some way. All of them.

When Maddie finally decides to leave, she brings Christopher with her, between tiny tired protests, but in the end Chris hugged Evan in a small soft embrace, and he caressed his face with both of his tiny hands, and made him smile. Evan greeted Maddie slowly, then, with a strange gesture of his hand, before turning his gaze on Eddie.

And Eddie looks at him, always looks at him, as he always did even when they were at work and not together yet, even when the idea of waking up with him in the morning was only a hidden dream. And he looks at him, and he understands it immediately, as soon as he moves the tips of his fingers on his lips that they hurt, because he wrinkles his nose and frowns.

No need to talk, Eddie reaches out to the jug they brought, he doesn’t even know when, but there are still small ice cubes and with the help of the spoon he takes one in his hand and passes it to his lips, slowly. And Buck snorts, and looks at him, with wide eyes, and does nothing to withdraw from that tiny relief. Eddie retrieves the famous spoon and fills it with water and brings it to his mouth, helping himself to pull his head up and he drinks slowly from that spoon. He doesn’t even hear what voice he incites him to, what voice he speaks to, but he sees Evan smile then, with that little smile of his as his eyes close again.

Thus, the first days of his awakening have been indecipherable.

Eddie has something unspeakable in his heart. He isn’t happy, he’s not happy every time Evan opens his eyes and looks at him, and curls his lips slowly in these goofy and weak smiles. He is not happy when he gets lost in his eyes, and he hardly breathes when he seems to speak to him with those tired looks, with his muffled sounds. He is not happy, it’s something that goes far beyond, something that easily exceeds his imagination, something that he would never have expected to live. His stomach is always contracted, in a tight grip every time he opens his eyes, his throat remains closed for a second, and his head empties completely, all together. And suddenly there is nothing else around them, there is nothing else that matters, there are only those eyes and that weak crooked smile.

And although it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter the magnitude of what could or could not remain on Evan, how serious any accessory symptoms are, the results of these months and months of slow agony, because now they have time to heal together, they have time and a future, but there is still something. There is Evan who is weak, Evan who doesn’t speak, who gets tired easily, who always seems a little confused when he opens his eyes.

But even if he is weak and tired, he fights, he just needs to ask him to wake up and Evan opens his eyes.

And in the first few days the best he can do is open his eyes and move his limbs slowly, only if stimulated, only if pushed to do so. The arm, the right, moves better than the left and with that manages to hold Eddie that minute longer, to wrinkle his shirt to pull him closer, or at least to convince him to get closer.

For Eddie it’s enough, though. There is time for Evan to get back on his feet, and chatter as before, they have time. He is back, he got back to him, and nothing else has more value.

Everything is silent, in those first days, the improvements are tiny, yet somehow still huge. Evan manages to stay awake a little more, manages to stay with his back raised in a sort of sitting position, his neck supports the head without difficulty, but his movements are still not that fluid and he can’t speak. He seems gradually more alert, however, he seems to listen and understand and looks interested in what is said to him.

The pharyngeal reflex is his latest goal, he can now slowly drink from a drinking straw, and can chew on some ice. They’ll have to wait for solid foods especially because he made it clear in his own way that he doesn’t want help but cannot bring a spoon or fork to his mouth. He manages to hold them in his hand, in this grasp even strong enough, but directing the movement up to the face, up to his mouth, is extremely complex. It is a matter of coordination, of fine and gross motor skills that work together. But they tried to make him eat, something not so solid, but the effects were catastrophic. Eddie was there while the nurses tried to get him to eat. And he ate, took these two or three teaspoons of broth or mashed potatoes, but it took so little for him to throw up everything.

So the doctors decided to give him more time, to continue with parenteral nutrition, and not to risk further. And they have the time. They have all the time, Evan has time now and it’s not worth rushing.

They have time.

Eddie has never left for more than a few minutes, in those first very delicate days. There is something that makes him smile like a child, and he smiles and sometimes he doesn’t realize, or he doesn’t want to realize, that he has tears burning in his eyes, because it is atrocious to see him like this, defenceless, weak, so different from what he was. But he is alive, and there is nothing that could make Eddie happier. He is happy, he is desperate, and a strange sensation of completeness, of full power, has gradually settled in his heart. He is alive, Evan, and even Eddie now feels alive, he has hope, this hope which is no longer miserable, but strong and feeds on this possibility now more than ever palpable of happiness, of future. Time, they have time. Buck no longer has a muscle, but he fought like a lion, against death, against any fear that could have paralyzed him. He still fights.

And when Eddie speaks to him, slowly, quietly, every time he opens his eyes and looks at him and smiles at him with his weak yet blinding smile, which is so unmistakably his, he has this unsustainable emotion that burns in his heart. It is happiness mixed with despair, it is victory and pain, it is satisfaction that gradually takes the place of fear, of loss.

Every time Evan opens his eyes, all the people in the room disappear, probably even the walls disappear when Evan looks at him, and Eddie never goes away, never more than a few minutes because Evan is there waiting for him and lights up every time he sees him. And if only Eddie has looked at him like this once, only once, he can be satisfied.

Ever since the first day, they began to give him a rather intensive rehabilitation program. Starting with a very rigorous physical therapy. The process is always the same: they start from the hands and then move to the arms and shoulders and go down to the legs. His legs hurt a lot, he usually grits his teeth, he doesn’t complain, but when they get to his bad leg, small whimpering sounds come out of his throat.

Eddie would go there every time to drive away that therapist, who perhaps exaggerates, who perhaps should stop. But when she starts with core exercises, and moves Evan knees from one side to the other, and helps him to rotate his hips so that his knees push first to the right and then to the left, Evan makes a lot of resistance, and the therapist smiles and she incites him, and immediately moves on to manipulate him again, and again. She blocks his pelvis, and uses one hand to help him extend his leg as far as possible to one side, she tells him to breathe, and when he exhales, she takes his leg back in its place.

His flexibility has improved real fast. From the bridging exercises of the legs, which fortifies the muscles of the legs, even if he lets these small suffocated moans escape, he got to even harder, more difficult exercises.

The primary reflexes of his hands have remained intact, and therefore although not very fluid, his fine motor skills improve rapidly. His practitioners let him tighten this anti-stress ball with his hands, make him move it from one hand to the other, make him extend his arms, the right arm moves easily, but the left arm hurts and has a lot of troubles even in the gross movements. But he holds forks and spoons in his hand, he also manages to hold pens between his fingers, and he gets better and better with each passing day. He began to make marks on the papers and Christopher teases him and laughs, because clearly now he is the better writer out of them.

Eddie is sometimes forced to look away, though. Especially when, after the first days of therapy in bed, they tried to get him up and he, he was not ready. And Evan growls, soundless, every time, and seems to swear, even if the therapist and nurses try to reassure him. It takes time, it takes time.

Time they now have, time to heal.

And when they leave him, to let him start his speech therapy session, he is breathless on the bed. His eyes flushed with fatigue and anger, and pain, but then Eddie enters his field of vision and he wrinkles his nose and stretches a smile.

And Eddie does everything to not seem troubled, to stay in control, to give him support, even in silence because he is not good with words, not enough, at least. But when he finds the words, he tells him that he is good, so good, and makes him smile more. And all he doesn’t say is a silent thanks to him and his strength, to his unwavering desire to fight.

The days immediately following Buck’s awakening are surreal. Because Eddie has a constant need to touch him, to look at him and feeling his eyes on him.

Eddie may say he knows that hospital like his pockets now, and yet it’s all so absurd now, now that he no longer feels empty when he sees Evan on the bed, now that everything seems to have acquired a colour that Eddie can’t understand or name, there is a new warmth, there is a new light, now that Buck raises his arms towards him to invite him into an embrace with the whole body even if his grip is so weak and yet so his.

Now that doctors have planned and approved his neurorehabilitation treatment, Buck has started receiving visits from the rest of their family. Their colleagues waited patiently after Maddie gave them news, and they booked their visits first. And Eddie was there, more to make sure Evan didn’t get too tired, than anything else, and reasonably he could have better spent that time sleeping, since they are all so attentive to Evan’s health. Their visits are short, Bobby has been there four minutes flat, while Hen has stayed longer. Chim is part of the family, so he is as present as possible. Even abuela was there shortly, just enough to refresh Evan on the latest developments of her favourite soap, making him giggle voiceless and making him do a kaleidoscope of surprised expressions and sounds with his lips. After the visits he usually falls asleep, he manages to stay awake until everyone leaves and one between Eddie or Maddie sits near his bed.

Because Evan, who was a volcano of energies, gets tired very, very quickly, the continuous coming and going of the various doctors including trainees and experts, cardiologists, pulmonologists and cardiothoracic surgeons, otolaryngologists and speech therapists, neurosurgeons and neurologists, physiotherapists and orthopaedists, and all appropriate therapies, they tire him so much but he never stops working, he never gives up. No matter how much he groans with his half aphonia, he never stops gritting his teeth and tries, tries, tries. No matter how much it hurts, he fights, he never stops.

After the first delicate stages, the first surreal days, Eddie had to go back to work.

He, who never left Evan, was practically kicked out of the room by Maddie. She too, after the first few days, decided to swallow the guilt and commit herself to her brother and decided to take the situation in hand: sending Eddie home to sleep, to spend some time with his son, before leaving him at school and going back to work for the first time. Rationally Maddie is right, Evan will need him later, when he will get out of the hospital and he can’t use all his time off he has now in these early stages: his support will be crucial soon after, as soon as he’s discharged and returns home. And perhaps it wasn’t really Maddie who chased him away, but Evan, who was starting to look at him all worried, about his continued presence in the hospital, as if he wanted to make sure that Eddie returned to normal.

And Eddie was reluctant at first. But after the first few days, and after the first small improvements, there have now been great achievements. Buck now sits alone, and also manages to move (maybe even too much, to be honest), not that he is particularly fast or agile, with the walker, he makes some small, tiny steps and then has to stop, but he is more coordinated.

So, Eddie also had to take a step, a small step towards normalcy.

Hence, there has been a first night at his house since Evan woke up. And he slept, not so much because anyway, even after six and a half months, he is still not used to sleeping alone, and the adrenaline of knowing that he is alive and awake is still drumming under his skin, but it was a peaceful sleep, no nightmare, no overwhelming sense of absence upon awakening.

The first thing he did, even before he got out of bed was to ask Maddie how he spent the night, and she replied with an emoji and a photo of him with his hair all tangled and his not particularly awake, but definitely grumpy face.

And it has become their new routine. Every time Maddie doesn’t have a night shift, or an early one in the morning, she stays with her brother in the hospital and Eddie goes home. And in the morning he prepares breakfast for Christopher, while he will eat with his colleagues in the station, and on the way to school they sing Disney’s songs and talk about what Christopher will do when he goes to visit him, what book he will read to him and what they are going to do at school.

It’s also going back to normal that slightly longer hug, in front of the school, with his son protesting that he’ll get late and Eddie holding him stronger with the excuse of bringing the hug to Buck too.

They have already organized their next trip to the science museum, for when Evan will be back home, and Christopher has prepared an in-depth summary of that strange and melancholic soap that abuela always watches.

They are trivial things, even the breakfast with the team, and the strange jokes of the substitute, but it’s perfect. He’s coming home.

When he arrives at the station now, he doesn’t feel the urge to run away from the big din that welcomes him, but he goes to meet it. In the locker room he hurries and climbs the stairs to the loft three by three. The breakfasts or lunches with his colleagues are always very weird, because there is no Buck there, but it is easier, now, now that he knows that when he’ll arrive at the hospital he will just have to ask him to wake up and he will look at him.

And they will no longer be words in the wind.

It is slowly returning to a, still a little weird, still a little different, everyday life. The habits he had before, when Buck spent the night with him, or when they were at work together are still not in place, but they will also get to that point.

One thing he did not expect, are the constant calls from his parents, he hoped they would decrease over time and instead now that Buck is awake and he is back to work, they have a daily cadence that Eddie begins to find indigestible.

His parents have always been quite invasive in his parenting and non-parenting life, especially on his work choices and his love life.

Ramon didn’t like his choices, or better what in fact wasn’t even a choice, falling in love with someone is never a choice, but deciding to commit body and soul to be with that person is. And when he introduced Buck as his partner and no longer as his colleague, Ramon had been unfriendly, to put it mildly.

But then he saw it, Buck with Christopher, the way they both looked at each other as if one had hung the moon and the other the stars and had softened a little (maybe his mother helped too, with all her elbowing and kicking under the table).

But gradually, with the accident, and the coma, and the hospital, and this terrible, terrible agony that was making him lose sleep, and Eddie who spent little time at home and took Christopher to the hospital, Ramon had returned to be his usual nosy self and to make judgments, some very difficult to swallow and digest.

In the first days after Evan’s awakening, however, Ramon had said he was extremely happy for his son, for them, especially for Christopher, because it was a miracle, in some ways it was a miracle.

But then, all those huge improvements for his father, however, are not enough and he decreed that Eddie can no longer divide his life between the station and the hospital, “Now the boy is awake,” he said on the phone, “Now the boy he is awake, and you have to think about yourself and your son, remember that you have no obligations towards him”.

And Eddie was about to burst, when he heard that, he felt the blood boil in his veins, but he didn’t say a thing, because he could hear his mother’s voice scolding his father. He decided to postpone, having very different priorities.

Evan and Christopher are his priority.

After that, suddenly the calls became sparse. And Eddie hoped, ardently, that his parents had stopped snooping.

Instead, it is when he has a free morning and he is waiting in the hospital cafeteria for Buck to finish his speech therapy, to spend some time with him, that his phone rings with a message and he chokes on his coffee. “Your mom and I are coming on Friday, next week, to help”.

And he would like to appeal, he would like to refuse and he is about to call his sisters to ask for an intercession, but his parents’ decisions are unquestionable, even though he absolutely doesn’t feel the need to see them, to let them intrude in his life.

Here, in this new normal, in this new routine that they have built, everyone is trying to help out.

There are abuela and Pepa, who continue to go to the hospital regularly: as before, with the only big difference that now, they don’t have to hope that he will wake up, because he is awake, maybe a little annoyed and aching from physiotherapy, but he’s awake.

Then there are the colleagues and their families, and this is perhaps the reason why Eddie did not feel the need to have the help of his.

There’s Chim who is among those who spend more time in the hospital, sometimes giving Maddie a bit time off. He has never gone into the merits of the situation, about the decisions she wanted to make and the way she is practically avoiding her brother, even when she sits there, even if she is always there. He just spends his time telling Buck, now that he is awake and that he is sure he understands, the plots of his favourite films, because now he can’t escape and it is time to finally have a bit of knowledge and not to be so illiterate about pop culture.

Or often when the shift ends, it is Hen who precedes Eddie in the little room, tells him about Nia and Denny, and reads some medical articles she is studying, or repeats what she has just learnt for her next exam. Not to mention Karen telling him about the new space discoveries that this or that satellite made while he slept, that he probably heard these things while he was in a coma, but it is right that he remains updated now with more elements.

Only Bobby has been there few, few times. Unlike Athena who visits him practically on a day basis, as soon as she leaves work or before going, and promises him lunches, barbecues, promises him trips and camping as soon as he gets back on his feet, as soon as he gets out of there. Or Michael who tells him about May and college, and shows him photos of his new projects, that now that the cancer is a memory he is full of life, and with a fine hot doctor with him. But Bobby, Bobby is acting as if he is avoiding Buck. And maybe Eddie has to take this situation in hand, a bit.

But apart from that, in their newfound normalcy, if normalcy can be called spending half the day in the hospital to keep him company, and having to leave him there before returning home or going to work, there is no room for his parents.

He decides again to postpone, and to reach Evan and ask him for one of his hugs, which even if they are all a little goofy and weak now, are his.

And when Eddie finally enters the room, slumped shoulders and lips pursed like he’d been chewing a lemon, Evan spreads his arms wide.

“Eddie!” he says, his voice croaky and throaty, thick with tiredness.

And Eddie could swear his brain is short-circuiting now. It feels like he spent his whole life searching desperately for that voice. There’s surely a word for describing what he feels now, this far-beyond-happiness-thing that overwhelms his heart, but Eddie’s lost all his words, he’s lost all his abilities to function for a second, and somehow he hoped that this would stop at some point, but here he is. His legs trembling and his stomach contracted and his breath scratching the back of his throat.

“Hey? Eddie?” Buck repeats grinning, his voice getting feeble and raw. “You good?”.

“You talked! You finally talked! You took your sweet time doing it!” he says, or maybe yells?

He definitely yells, because Buck is wheezing with laughs, and he’s out of breath when Eddie finally reaches the bed in two long-legged strides, his father’s message long forgotten.

Buck opens his arms, lips curled in a soft grin and Eddie bends down and kisses him. And it’s such a soft fleeting kiss that turns to be so hungry and desperate, that Eddie’s whole body curves into Buck’s. And Eddie doesn’t even notice how much his lips are trembling now, with that smile curving them.

Buck breaks the kiss first, taking a shaky breath and looking at him with soft eyes. “You good?” he says, staying so close that he his murmuring in Eddie’s mouth.

He groans, shaking his head. “Kiss me better” he says, in a hoarse whisper.

“Needy,” Evan says, moving his hands down on the small of Eddie’s back, his fingertips pressing under his shirt, drawing gentle circles against the bare skin.

And Eddie just starts to melt in his arms, forgetting everything else.

It is a string of high fevers, and sudden flat calm. In the following week, Eddie has almost no time to think about his parents. Doctors say it’s fatigue, that Buck gets very tired with all the therapies, and it doesn’t depend on him or on them, it’s simply an endogenous reaction.

There are no traces of infections, it is only a sudden fever, that comes at the end of the day and disappears by the next morning. And even if they have moved him to the ward now, and he is no longer in SICU, they keep him under strict scrutiny.

And Eddie who is already worried and with the advent of that fateful Friday, which perhaps arrives too quickly for his taste, he’s become increasingly tense.

This is not the right time to have his parents around the house, especially not to have his father who will snoop around and have his say, even on a simple fever. Eddie can swear he can already hear his voice, echoing in his ears.

Knowing that they are ready to go poking into his life, sentimental, professional, parental, in every sense of life, but above all in every sense his, irritates him a lot. But he will try not to take this bad mood to work or even in his house, he will leave it in his bedroom, because Chris is looking forward to hugging his grandparents, and wants to let himself be infected by his good mood.

Today he will certainly not be able to pick them up, or rather, he could have done so, but he has made sure not to ask for a shift change or a free day in time. So he has a deal with Pepa that concerns a dinner for her and tìo, at that fancy restaurant they like. But tìa will keep them away for at least today, then he is free the next morning so he’ll take them to visit Evan in the hospital and he’ll then leave Chris in their care, he planned a theme park on Saturday, so they’ll stay away even more. He doesn’t know yet how long they will stay, but even three days are too many, for his taste.

But he can’t complain too much, it’s their way of loving him, as Buck says. He only hopes that today is a good day, at least.

The shift is easy enough, when already at the first call, even before breakfast, they save an elderly man who was stuck in the house during a gas leak just in time. Where just in time isn’t a figure of speech, but quite literally: as soon as they manage to pull the old man away, at the right distance, the house bursts, like a firework, like a powder keg. Certainly, that poor gramps lost all the memories of a life, the only thing safe is an photo album. But at least he is alive, and smiling, and he also saved his denture!

This is one of those days when Buck’s impossible good mood would pump them further with energy. But it’s not a bad day, everything seems to go smoothly.

At midmorning, when he hurries up to the kitchen to eat something, he can’t hold back a laugh when he sees Chim who is eating jam directly from the jar, while Cap is busy at the stove.

Hen is noisily playing the pinball machine with three or four guys from the second team cheering her on.

This is his place, this is what goes through his head, in an instant. He feels in the right place, even though Buck isn’t there yet. But they are also rapidly reaching that point, the improvements are increasingly evident, and the doctors are already talking about discharge.

“Hey!” mutters Chim, mouth kneaded with jam, as he finishes licking the spoon and then his fingers. “Maddie said she’ll call you as soon as the tour is over: the fever has gone down...”.

Eddie nods and bends his head to the side, trying to paint a stern expression on his face and ignore the concern for the tiredness that afflicts Buck and increasingly withdraws his discharge from the hospital. “Christopher eats jam more politely than you...”.

“Umpf! It’s finished! Bobby gave me permission!” he grumbles with a shrug, his face looks all sticky.

Hen approaches victoriously, babbling something about her victory, her record or whatever it is, and bangs a loud pat on his shoulder and chuckles. “So Eddie, ready for your folks to arrive?”.

“Yeah, come on...” Chim comments, while vigorously soaping his hands at the sink, now and rinsing his face and cheeks. “All considered, you have a good relationship with yours”.

“Let’s say it’s a great long-distance relationship, based on a non-aggression pact... you know they snoop and my father always has something to say. But… Chris is happy, he at least” he mutters and approaches Bobby, the two of them still have to talk, clear things up and maybe this is the right time, today is a good day, despite the imminent arrival of his parents. “Do you need any help?” he then says, gesturing at the sizzling pan, just out of courtesy, not out of actual desire to do so. Last time he helped, Chim was ready with the first aid kit and Hen was holding the fire extinguisher. They ordered Chinese, afterwards.

“I really would say no, thank you for asking” says Hen. "We want to eat, do not chew the unburnt parts of a toast. Luckily there are Carla and your grandmother who take care of making Christopher’s meals...”.

“I only burnt the toast once! Once!” he replies. “I just needed to understand how the toaster worked!”.

“Once to many” she singsongs, shaking her head. “I suggest banning you from cooking”.

“Hey!” he whines with an overdramatic sigh.

“I really have to remind you that time Bobby was called urgently by the commander and left you in charge in the kitchen for, what was that? Five minutes? Just because we were still returning from the hospital...” Chim mutters, retrieving the dishes from the cupboard and starting to arrange the table.

“There was smoke everywhere...” adds Hen nodding vigorously. “I swear dispatch would have given us a support unit if we didn’t act as fast…”.

“Oh, come on...” he mutters, pretending to be offended.

Bobby looks at him, a mischievious and paternal grin. “Yes Eddie, you’re banned from all the cooking, it’s a matter of our well-being”.

“Hey!!” he pouts playfully.

“You and I cant talk later,” adds Bobby.

Breakfast goes smoothly and fast, they are starting to clear the table when the alarm rings and they hurry down the stairs.

They don’t have time to talk, not now, but they will. The two of them have to clear up. And he needs to plan how to act next, when Buck leaves the hospital and Eddie will need all the help he can get. Help he already knows he won’t even have to ask openly. They are their family, even if for a long time he pretended to forget about it.

It’s a scene like many others, they have seen dozens like this one, but it always makes them laugh.

The lover who, in order to escape, from the cheated husband gets stuck on the ledge of the building. Usually these are calls that arrive at night, or at first light in the morning, and usually the lovers are always half naked and attract attention. At first, the passer-by who called 911 must have thought it was a suicide attempt, but then he must have understood: one who covers his nakedness with his hands is certainly not there to kill himself, especially not there on the second floor of a building. He only risks getting hopelessly hurt, but not killed.

The lucky one with the shortest straw is Chim, who climbs the stairs to get to the second floor of this fine apartment building, in a fancy neighbourhood. The guy, the lover, is thinking more about avoiding being kicked by the cheated husband and covering his balls rather than being so careful where to put his feet, but Chim is quick on the ladder and grabs him before he finds himself ass in the jump cushion, that is still inflating.

“I will never tire of this kind of bailouts,” Hen comments grinning behind him. “People manage to be really stupid when the blood doesn’t flow to the brain, but to their second brain down there... umpf, men”.

Eddie chuckles. “At least I have something fun to tell Buck when I go to visit him today”.

“How is he doing?” asks Bobby.

“Better,” he says, he always says he’s getting better. But it’s increasingly true, now there are all those improvements. Now that he speaks, now that he can take a few steps with the walker, he is better, really better. He also seems more serene, even if he is all tired and battered.

And Bobby and Hen look at him as if they want to know more.

“You have seen him too, he’s getting better. He’s getting much better.” Eddie starts again. "He gets better every day: he sleeps better at night, especially now that they have removed the catheter and have moved him to the new ward, he is always a little cranky in the morning, and these high fevers exhaust him a lot... but...” he adds with a shrug. “He’s better, PT still hurts a lot, there are movements he just can’t stand, but he keeps trying and trying again, you know, don’t you?” he says, a soft fond smile curling his lips.

And they nod.

“He has started to eat something, things that are not too solid, his movements improve but... you know, he insists on eating alone, without help, so he spills all his food on his hospital gown” Eddie explains, and smiles even more. “Maybe is a tactic… Chris says, because the hospital gown looks stupid”.

Hen snickers. “Now that he speaks, it will be a constant lament”.

“Can you blame him?” Bobby replies, a brow furrowed. “With all the therapies and tests...”.

Eddie shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t complain. He is stubborn, he doesn’t give up, but he doesn’t complain... even when it hurts, he doesn’t complain.” he remarks, a fond tone in his voice.

“He’s a fighter,” Bobby replies and then looks at him, forehead puckered. “Look, Eddie...”.

“I think I overdid it the other day,” he mutters, scratching behind his neck, slamming his eyes shut for a second before sighing. And maybe this isn’t the right time, talking about it while they are on a scene and there is one with balls and ass in the wind who is accompanied down from a building on their ladder truck. “I was…”.

“I can understand you, Eddie” replies the captain hastily. “And you’re right, I... the way I behaved, as a captain, as a man… that time I had to choose and... not intervening to save him is and will be one of my biggest regrets but...” he continues, looking down.

Eddie’s eyes narrow again, he takes a deep breath and when he throws the air out, he stretches a half smile. “I know. How I know he doesn’t give up. The problem is... as far as I know, rationally, we couldn’t do much else, I’m sure we weren’t enough, that we didn’t do enough...” he mumbles.

Bobby looks down, without saying a word.

“The fact that we didn’t go down there and help him was a confirmation for Evan: he really, seriously believes that he’s not worth it, risking our life for him.” Eddie mumbles. “And everything that has happened before, everything he is doing now, even hurrying his recovery, is because he doesn’t want to lose us, because we are his family... because he doesn’t want to be left behind” he adds with a sigh.

“Eddie I...” Bobby begins to say.

“I want to tell you that I behaved badly, with you, I told you about things that pressed on me but that you didn’t deserve... So please go and see him more often, he’d love to see you. But, don’t promise him food, because he is on a strict diet right now with all the medicines and all, building up his strength.” he adds.

“But you’re right I didn’t do enough...” comments Bobby, head down.

“We didn’t do enough. Evan did it all by himself, he’s a fighter, you’re right. And the thing that frightened me, that still frightens me, is that he could always get tired... But he doesn’t give up, he got out of that hell with his own legs and he will also leave the hospital in no time...” he murmurs. “Let’s give him time to get up and he will kick our ass. Mine because I’m pissed at you, and yours because you’re blaming yourself”.

“Surely when he gets better and comes back with us, he’ll kick your butts.” Hen nods, smiling, before reaching Chim and helping the naked lover in the ambulance.

“Athena told me they started talking about discharging him, Buck does nothing but say he wants to go home...” Bobby mutters, his voice heavy and thick with some strange emotion that Eddie doesn’t want to pay too much attention to.

“He was so pissed off when Maddie told him she rented his apartment…” Eddie chuckles. “I guess I have an excuse to make my place his home,”.

Bobby frowns. “It isn’t already?”.

And Eddie hums in consent. “It is, I just have to make it official… do we have to sign more HR papers?”.

Bobby shakes his head. “We’ll have to organize ourselves with your shifts and your holidays, maybe for the first few days I could…” but he can’t finish the sentence, he and Eddie look at each other for a moment and before the cheated husband, on the war foot, launches himself on the way, towards the ambulance, Eddie leaps into action, intercepting and holding him down.

When the ambulance leaves, Eddie and Bobby climb back with others on the truck. No collateral damage, all is quiet.

“We will talk about it when we have a certain date for it, better not to rush things, he is already impatient enough for all of us.” Eddie says going back on the topic.

All things considered, it’s a sleepy day. And that’s just what he needed today, nothing too adrenaline-pumping, otherwise he will be tired tonight when he goes to stay with Evan.

It’s almost in the middle of the shift, when two phone calls arrive. His parents have landed and are in Pepa’s car on the way to his house, and then Maddie gave him a brief update, but this time she doesn’t pass the phone to Buck, who is tired and is having a bad day. They started with more intensive treatments, now that he is making these huge progresses and he gets tired, he gets tired a lot and he’s always sore afterwards.

Knowing Evan as he does, so impatient, indefatigable, so tenacious, he knows that now that the finish line is getting closer, now that his discharge, or as he calls it his freedom, seems really within reach, he will do everything to hurry things up. Even if his legs hurt, even if he’s tired, he wants to get out of there as much as Eddie wants to take him home (and maybe to bed, without having to do much even just to sleep and a little pampering). But they have time, now, time that seemed to have expired until a few weeks ago. And the road is long, they know it. But everything has its time, everything has its own pace.

Not to think about it, about Evan who’s having a bad day, he decides to catch up on further articles, something that can help him with Buck and his recovery. He has signed up for all the sites that allowed you to download various exercises that they will be able to do at home, without stressing themselves, something that Evan could do autonomously or with Eddie’s help.

Hen looks out, chirping over his head. “Hey, any news from Maddie? I saw that you made that sulky grimace of yours twice... if you had talked to Buck you would walk a palm from the ground... so, it was Maddie or they were your folks… and I’d risk all my money on Maddie though... usually, after you talk to your father you go down in the gym, beating the shit out of the heavy bag”.

Eddie looks at her cut. "Are you sure that your medical career is the right way for you? You could steal Athena’s job...”.

She chuckles. “Oh, I was a fan of Murder She Wrote as a child... I always guessed the culprit...”.

“Christopher too! And... maybe he should spend less time with abuela, thinking about it...” he replies, buffeting a half laugh.

"So, what did Maddie say?” she asks again.

“Today it’s a bad day” he murmurs with his head down, scrolling his finger on the phone screen.

And she collapses near him, on the couch, squaring an ankle over one knee. “He is such a bad patient sometimes”.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bad day, today: two PT sessions, one this morning and one in the afternoon. He walked, took two whole steps alone... however, tonight he will be tired and angry, because he says it’s not enough... and with tiredness, he gets those high fevers...” he sighs and shakes his head for a moment, without taking his eyes off the phone, he must keep busy. “Besides, he has already done neurological tests too... the usual, fucking long battery, and those exercises with the speech therapist... he was tired, he was sleeping, when Maddie called”.

Hen mutters something under her breath. “He doesn’t complain, though”.

“No, but... you know him,” Eddie shrugs. “He wants to do things in a hurry, like all at once. He becomes restless... even when he was doing rehabilitation for his leg...” he says inhaling a deep breath and blowing out slowly. He’s trying to find the right words, it’s hard, seeing him like that, struggling even only to take a shaking and careful step forward.

“Well, it’s long... but he always works hard,” Hen replies, optimism in her voice.

“Every single day he improves, he gets better, but he is likely to be more and more tired and these high fevers weaken him... and he fell, the other day, when they tried to let him take a few steps... and he didn’t want help to get up and...” he shakes his head. It was painful. He doesn’t say it though.

“But he walked today, didn’t he?” she mumbles. “Two steps are enough, they are a start”.

Eddie looks up at her. “I can’t help him. It’s terrible”.

“It’s out of your control, Eddie...” Hen speaks softly. “But there is one thing that could help you. And help him…” she adds, taking the phone from his hands and typing something hastily before returning it to him.

Eddie looks at the screen. On a white and yellow page, in thin gold letters, there is a title that makes his eyebrow curl. “Nordic cuddle therapy?”.

“Okay, listen to me...” she begins to say moving her hand, as if to stop whatever he is thinking. “Touch has a power to change us, it offers support and comfort… and cuddles? Basically, they increase confidence and happiness, reduce stress and anxiety... the benefits are also physical, just biological...” she explains briefly with a toothy smile.

“Okay?” he yammers, confused, tilting his head on one side while listening. “I don’t think I understand, honestly...” he admits, after a few seconds.

Hen smiles benevolently at him. “This site explains everything quite clearly, but... long story short? Cuddling is the way to give more support, Eddie. Think about the psychological and biological effects, how a hug makes you feel, how his hug makes you feel... how you feel when he grips your hand...”.

And Eddie instantly relaxes at the mere idea. It is something he misses like crazy, to be able to reach out and find even the lower part of Evan’s back under his fingers, for a single moment. It is a kind of lucky charm, a kind of calming, anchoring mechanism.

“Exactly,” Hen says, the smile that widens more on her lips a knowing look glimmering in her eyes. “It’s just this... Hugging reduces stress. It will decrease blood pressure, heart rate, cortisol levels... it improves immune system and... as you will read, hugging, or cuddling has soothing and comforting effects for people suffering life-changing illnesses. I’m not saying that Buck is ill, but of course what happened to him, changed his life. But changed yours too, didn’t it?” she adds, and her voice is so kind and cheerful, even when she says these things.

And Eddie looks at the screen for a moment and feels something burn in his eyes. If he reads in bulk, while Hen explains it to him, he can see all the benefits. This therapy reduces fear, pain, increases happiness, improves the immune system... and that’s how he feels when he embraces his son and Buck, is this it? Is it really that simple? He looks up at her incredulously.

“Look, you can talk to his doctor, that doctor is very good...” Hen nods smiling. “Hugging, touching, cuddling produces a lot of hormones... oxytocin helps us feel calmer... serotonin increases happiness and is known as a natural painkiller, therefore it helps to lighten the pain... hugs, cuddles... help balance the nervous system... you find everything there, on that site... but there are many other scientific evidences” she adds, winking at him. “Besides, it’s a good excuse to snuggle, if you needed one”.

And Eddie looks at her and would like to say something but “Thanks” is the best he can manage right now.

“With Nia it works, you know? Such young children, especially those who have been entrusted to social services, need something, a form of caring communication. They are suffering from touch deprivation…” she adds gently. “I’m sure it will certainly help our Buckaroo a little, but maybe a little you too, you big curmudgeon... for sure you’ve already hugged him, but... let’s say you have an excuse to extend the contact, now” she remarks.

Eddie nods slowly. “Thank you thank you. Especially for the excuse of cuddling...” he repeats with a smile that curls his lips. “If you also send me the articles, I will read them and talk about them with your doctor...”.

She retrieves the phone to send him all the attachments and manages to complete the operation just in time, before the alarm sounds.

“You’re going to be a great doctor, Hen,” Eddie tells her, jumping up and hurrying down the stairs.

“And I will always be a very good Mrs. Fletcher,” she replies sneering. “I am a woman of many wonders”.

“Curmudgeon, I will remember that” he says, moving faster to get on the truck, with all his gear.

She jumps on the ambulance. “It’s spelling-bee time at Denny’s school”.

Bobby is ready next to the truck. “Come on, fire in a Korean restaurant.” he grumbles before taking his place.

“Uh, korean barbecue!” chirps Chim. “My favorite!”.

With his stomach still rumbling, even after eating a big lunch, even if more than people they seemed like a pack of hungry wolves, Eddie goes to his truck. There were three other emergencies after a small fire in the restaurant kitchen, a small failure in the electrical system, nothing special, fortunately no injuries, and Chim took the number of the takeaway, because according to him the perfume, if you ignore it the smell of burnt plastic and blackened eyebrows was really inviting.

He proceeded to contact the doctor, between one call and another, he forwarded the articles and spoke to him about Hen’s idea, that could help Evan a bit, because he is always sore and pouting, and the caresses on the face or the grip on his hands are certainly not enough for him to feel better. The doctor laughed, a genuine laugh, “Sure,” he said. “I don’t see why not, even if he will only have a better mood, it will still be a victory”.

And so now he also has the doctor’s authorization, and he can take off his shoes, and climb on the bed and hold him a little. And maybe make him forget his bad day.

Before setting off for the hospital, he called Christopher and explained to him how they can make Buck feel better, and that he will certainly need his super hugs, and Chris said he was very ready, so much so that he has already organized himself with the grandparents to visit him tomorrow, he has already chosen the next book to read to him and all the rest, tonight he will watch the soap with abuela, so he can also give him a summary.

When he arrives at the hospital it’s late afternoon, and he hurries up the stairs. He knows now that if he enters from the east entrance, and takes the stairs instead of the elevator, he is in Buck’s room in five minutes flat, brief chat with the nurses included.

From the large window of his new room, enters this golden light. The sunset tinges the wall with a warm colour, and he, who is clearly particularly tired, is all curled up on his side, to turn his back to the window, in that adorable and somewhat goofy almost foetal position, with his arm covering his face. His head almost completely hidden by the blanket. The patchwork comforter that Athena had brought him, shortly after he went into a coma, to make him feel more at home, in a less aseptic environment, is all wrinkled at the bottom of the bed, it is still very hot, although it’s almost December.

“Evan?” he calls him softly, and approaches his bed. “Evan?” he repeats and moves the sheet without too many ceremonies. “Evan I’m here for your new therapy!” he says to him.

“No,” he croaks, his voice hoarse, tired. “Enough. Enough! No more.” he repeats, groaning, stiffening in his position for a second and curling into a ball up next, clamping his fingers over the top of his head.

And Eddie feels a strange warmth growing in his heart and he laughs, and maybe he feels the need to sit down. So he flings himself on the bed, on Buck, kissing the top of his head moving his arms from his face. “Buck? Evan?” he calls again, quietly, hovering over him, his voice sounds impossibly soft in his ears. “I’m sure you’ll going to like this new therapy”.

“Ooof, no! Please” he whines, frustration crinkling in his eyes.

"It’s called cuddle therapy, or hugging therapy,” Eddie says. “And I’m your practitioner, now”.

Evan inhales a deep breath and blows it out slowly. He cocks his head, a cunning smile on his lips, blinking his red eyes owlishly. “You are what now?”.

“We are going to cuddle. And you are going to get a lot of smooches, because... you walked today,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t even want to notice how his voice sounds warm and fond while he leans in for a kiss on the bridge of his nose. “You really never cease to amaze me, Evan”.

He shrugs a bit, rubbing a hand over his stubble and his eyes. “It’s nothing” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and raw.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to belittle this thin g, okay? Not on my watch” Eddie grumbles. “You are amazing! You took your sweet time, but this is a milestone! So, you get more cuddles”.

“I’m not a kid, Eds,” he whines, a tiny smile curling the edge of his lips. “But, yeah I ’ll get all the cuddles, no complaining”.

“Oh, you are so needy” he says moving away for a moment just to take off his shoes and move on the top of the bed. “Move a bit, so the both of us can fit on this mattress”.

“Can we?” he asks softly.

“Chris can do it, I can do it” he declares.

Buck chuckles bit. “Chris is a kid, you are a full grown-ass man, Eddie”.

“I got doc’s permission,” he says. “Now, move”.

Evan moves slowly, but makes room for Eddie enough for the two of them to fit on the mattress. “Cuddle therapy” he repeats softly, his voice cracking at the end.

“Yeah, we are going to cuddle... and it’s therapy. This is the kind of science you like, the cheesy one…” Eddie says, crawling up in the bed and sighing when he finally reaches out to take Evan to his chest, resting his head on the top of his. His skin is warm and sweaty.

Evan groans, tightening his grip on Eddie’s waist. “Ooof, don’t make fun of my interests...”.

And he could swear his heart is melting right now, beating slowly in his ribcage while he sucks in a shaky breath. “I find you and your interests so adorable. You big sentimental nerd. Hen made me read a lot of articles, it’s pure science, and your doc gave us permission...”.

“It’s neuroscience” Buck states out softly, nuzzling his face in Eddie’s chest. “It’s because our skin contains millions of pressure centres that work in network...”.

Eddie laughs softly in his hair. “Now you know this one too?”.

“You said so yourself, it’s the cheesy science that I like...” Buck murmurs, his voice is like a whisper, tired and throaty. “The Pacinian corpuscles are connected to the brain to send pressure senses. It’s cool”.

“Plus, we can cuddle” Eddie adds, moving one of his hands on Evan’s shoulders.

“Cheesy science. The perfect science” he nods, snuggling closer. “Your parents?”.

“Arrived, earlier today.” Eddie groans in exasperation. “Did you really have to break our tiny bubble so fast? Why can’t we ignore the fact that they are here?”.

“They love you” Buck purrs, moving his head enough to look into his eyes.

Eddie sighs. “I know that... but they are always so meddlesome”.

“Alright, I see what’s happening here. It’s you who needs cuddles then, I’m just your six-two-tall cuddle pillow.” he says, his blue eyes glimmering with a playful mischief.

“Hey, now...” he starts with a tiny smirk. “You start forming complex sentences just in time to make fun of me, you are terrible. And I was here to make you feel better!”.

“You being here, is enough for me” Buck says and snuggles closer, humming in contentment when Eddie shifts a bit to wrap an arm around his ribs. “But with cuddles it’s better”.

It’s that, just like that. That’s enough for Eddie to feel whole again, and it sucks right away to feel whole, while Evan still isn’t in his best shape. But all that tension that stiffened his body, now seems to fade away, now that Evan touches him like he’s made of porcelain, stroking his arm, leaning into him.

“Don’t be rude with your parents,” Buck utters softly. “They are worried about you and Chris. About us. But eventually they’ll come to like me”.

“They already like you. They came here while you were... asleep” Eddie grimaces at the word, and he hurries to leave a quick peck on the edge of Evan’s warm forehead.

And Buck hums, moving closer, his hand in the small of Eddie’s back, his fingers caressing the base of his spine. “Because they love you. They wanted to give you the support you needed... help you out”.

“They got nosy even then...” Eddie adds, eyerolling noisily. “I’ll try, for Chris... and you. I’ll try”.

“They are your parents, you have to try” Buck declares, in a nobbling, yet tired, tone.

Eddie grunts again, nodding. “Let’s not talk about my parents while we cuddle. It’s weirding me out” he stretches his legs and entangles one between Buck’s, his heart galloping and echoing in the other’s chest while he nuzzles his nose in the soft curls on the top of his head. He smells like an alcoholic shampoo and detergent, and even if that isn’t his usual scent, it’s good, it’s still good.

“They helped me getting all cleaned today, maybe doc told ‘em you were coming here to snuggle in bed with me…” Buck murmurs, laying his head in the crook of Eddie’s arm and looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“The kind nurses helped you?” asks Eddie, moving his hand up and down Buck’s backbone, counting his vertebrae with his fingertips, his heartbeat drumming calmly in his ribcage.

Buck hums softly, but doesn’t say anything else. And it’s a matter of moments, that his breathing becomes deep and steady, and he is out like a light.

And Eddie lays there, in his arms, or with in him in his arms, hugs work like that, it doesn’t matter where they start, what really matters are the entangled limbs and the soft breathing. He moves his fingers absentmindedly on his skin, feeling him relax even more under his hands.

Buck moves just a bit closer, at some point, nuzzling his face in Eddie’s chest.

The sunset is dying the sky and the room with the last soft dark orange hues. It’s perfect, and calm, and maybe Eddie hasn’t seen such a beautiful sunset in a long time.

And he must admit that this cuddle therapy thing is perfect, the perfect excuse, or the therapy he actually needed, and maybe Buck is right, he needed this as much as him. He is so relaxed, this is what he always needed, what he always missed while he was asleep and not responding. And somehow is like coming home, all over again, sinking in his arms like this. He can’t explain how overwhelming, crushing, irresistible this feeling is. He doesn’t know enough words, or maybe he just forgot how to use them. He is just simply happy, and something even more, far beyond happiness. He is, finally, damn happy.

And, lulled by his soft breath, in their quiet bubble, Eddie is about to doze off. But now he hears people, he hears an echo of known voices, and it’s weird because that Unit is very silent at this moment, even if it’s visiting hours.

“What are you doing Edmundo?” nags a voice. His father’s voice, orotund and stentorian.

And Eddie, who isn’t very asleep, but not that awake either, jolts in the bed and stares with cow eyes at his parents, who are now in the room without even asking for permission.

He hears Buck whine at his sudden movement, groaning something under his breath.

“What are you doing here? We had planned a visit tomorrow.” Eddie growls, eyes burning with annoyance while he moves away from Evan’s warmth reluctantly.

Buck shifts on the bed, and squints before knitting his brows in a frown. But then smiles, his shit-eating grin. “Oh hello” he says, his voice thick with sleep scratches the back of his throat.

Eddie stiffens and can’t really function right now. His mind gone completely blank.

“We thought we could pay a visit, see how Evan was doing... you always say that this is the perfect moment to visit him...” his mother says and moves to hug him and kiss his cheeks before walking around the bed to reach out and cup Evan’s face in her hands. “You got so thin, you need to eat more”.

His father doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs him, and looks at the bed, at Evan on the bed who’s now besieged by Helena and all her attentions.

And Eddie eyerolls, a sharp sigh scratching the back of his throat when he kneels to put on his shoes. He sits on the bed and searches for Buck’s hand. He needs his touch now more than ever. He isn’t prepared to talk to his father, not now. He just wanted a cute cuddly night with his boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.

Buck smiles even more. “It’s good to see you too,”.

“You are finally awake,” his mom says. “And you look good, thin, but good. Good thing we are here, so we can bring you a lot of good food, and help out...”.

Eddie is about to say something, something about Buck’s diet, about the fact that he doesn’t need any help, that he and Christopher are well enough on their own with Evan, but his dad comes near him.

“We need to talk,” Ramon declares under his breath.

“I don’t think it’s the time, Ramon.” his mother says. “Why don’t we chat a bit with Evan first and then you and Eddie can go talk in the cafeteria, before we have to go to that good restaurant you choose?” she adds looking at Evan with a soft smile “I’m sure you and I can talk a bit, Christopher told us a lot of marvellous things you told him, so...”.

“You can go talk to your dad, Eds.” Buck murmurs, his eyes soft and caring but rimmed with tiredness, his lips curled in a tiny smile.

Eddie huffs loudly and stands, walking out with his dad. And he really wants to go to the cafeteria, maybe grab a coffee and talk to him, far from Evan’s ears. It can become ugly, when they fight. And he really didn’t need it today. It was perfect, just a couple of minutes ago. Fuck.

Ramon doesn’t wait, as much as he is known for his obstinacy, his fucking stubbornness, he isn’t known to be the kind of man to have a quiet word with someone and starts to talk when the door is closed but they are still in the corridor outside the room. “You should have come get us at the airport. Spend time with your kid”.

“Dad” he scowls.

“No, now I talk, Edmundo:” his father opens his mouth harshly, “You need to re-think your priorities, Eddie. And I say it now because I don’t want to fight in front of Christopher”.

“But you are perfectly fine with fighting in a hospital corridor, in front of Buck, we could have waited a couple of minutes, sat in the cafeteria and talked. You are doing this on purpose: he can still hear you” Eddie says narrowing his eyes. “You want him to hear, he isn’t deaf”.

“At least he isn’t deaf” Ramon retorts and moves his head away, facing the other end of the corridor. “Let me remind you that you are under no obligation to him. You aren’t married, and you need to think about Christopher, you need to think about your kid and yourself”.

“I’m thinking about Chris, I’m thinking about our happiness. We are happy with Buck” Eddie says matter-of-factly. “He is the best thing ever happened to us”.

“Eddie you don’t even know how much this thing that happened to him will impair his life and yours eventually” he starts to say but then he falls silent for a moment, and that gives Eddie the space to talk.

“It doesn’t matter” Eddie states out, shrugging. “I love him. Chris loves him. Maybe even more than I do... and Buck, Evan... he loves us, and I can’t even stress enough how much he does, maybe even more than I can fathom”.

“Eddie, you don’t need someone else who has special needs” his dad says with a stern look, gritting his teeth, gesturing widely with both his hands, pointing his finger at the door, at Evan. “You need to think about Christopher’s wellbeing first. You are already neglecting him to stay with that guy, and working twelve to twenty-four hours shifts… you brought him to the hospital! Hospitals aren’t places for kids!”.

Maybe Eddie can hear his breath scratching up his throat, rage mounting in his mouth. He slams his eyes shut, furious. He can’t do this again, he explained this in the first place, that Chris asked to go there, asked to be with Buck. “Enough” he breathes out, moving his hands in a hard act. “Enough”.

“Edmundo, I’m just saying you need to sort your priorities. You can’t give him what he needs if you can’t provide for your kid’s needs first. Neither of you will ever be happy. And I’m not even going to start about hospital bills. Six months in a hospital? You know how many digits that bill will have? At least seven...” his dad says again, his tone penetrating, severe, but he still tries to mind where he is, and not to yell out loud.

Some nurses, the kind nurses that look after Evan and treat all of them gently, eyeroll at them while passing slowly, muttering something under their breath. That’s not the right place for arguments.

Eddie moves his eyes to glance through the glass door, Evan looking at him. And he knows he heard something, maybe not everything, but he knows that look in his eyes, and Eddie doesn’t want to name it. “You say over and over that I have no obligation to him, but I have. I have obligations to my heart and to Chris’s happiness. Evan makes us happy. And I’m willing to do my best for him and Christopher”.

“Eddie...” his dad says, his voice now softer, less harsh. “Isn’t it exhausting coming all the way here, every single day? You don’t have any obligation to that boy, but your kid, your work... you already have your hands full... you really don’t need that, you really don’t need to spend your whole life looking after a─”.

Eddie clinches his jaw and doesn’t let his dad finish that sentence. “Enough.” he repeats rudely, louder. “We aren’t talking about this shit ever again. He is getting better. He will come back home and we are going to be together. I don’t care if you like this or not. It’s my life, and you don’t get to be nosy about my choices, about my parenting style, about who the hell I love. Enough.” he adds before going back inside.

Buck looks at him, glassy and tired eyes, and then moves his gaze on his father, managing a lackluster smile.

Helena straightens on her sit. “Ramon,” she calls, her mother-like tone, the one she always used when Eddie was a reckless kid. “You shouldn’t have made a scene here”.

“Take him out of here, mama” Eddie roars, his voice deep and severe. “I’m not gonna talk about this anymore”.

“Eddie...” she starts, her voice soft.

“Enough” he says again, louder this time. "You don’t get to come here and meddle in my life. There’s a reason I came here, in order to─”

“Eddie?” Buck calls him quietly shushing him. “We should all mind where we are, and you should really mind your words”.

Eddie wilts in the chair, groaning, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Your parents are just worried, and you are exhausted.” Buck adds, smiling but that smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “We are going to drop it for today. You have that fancy reservation at that cute restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard, right?” he says then, looking at Helena who nods. “Go, I’ll take care of Eddie, and talk some sense into him, mh?”.

He hears his father mutter something under his breath, preceding his wife outside.

Helena steps closer to the bed, and hugs Buck softly before reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek. “You know your papa always says things for your own good, Eddie”.

And Eddie growls something, nodding then.

They wait in utter silence for a couple of moments. Just enough to be sure his parents’ ears are far enough.

Eddie doesn’t have the courage to move his eyes on Buck, who took his hands when Helena got out of there. He doesn’t know where to start, he just, can’t. He can’t start this thing. He doesn’t want to fight about his parents, it already happened a long time ago, back in Texas, back with Shannon. And Buck is in a hospital bed, in a bad shape, a bit feverish and all tired. This isn’t the right moment.

Buck strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. “Your father isn’t that wrong Eddie. And fuck, I had just finished saying you shouldn’t treat them that bad and...”.

“How much did you hear?” Eddie grits his teeth so hard that his jaw almost hurts.

“Enough?” Buck says, in a soft smile.

Eddie clenches his fists, brow bumping together in a scowl. “And you say he isn’t wrong? Evan, he said awful things about you!”.

“He hasn’t. Not today at least. And it’s true, we don’t know how bad my shape will be, but… on the positive side, I may be as fast as Christopher, so you won’t have to stress out…” Buck retorts, shrugging.

“You…” he starts to say.

“I know It’s exhausting being here.” Buck adds, without blinking.

“No. It isn’t. I wanna be here” Eddie replies, staring at him with wide eyes, before averting his look again. “And you are perfect. You are getting better. And you make me so happy I can’t... you aren’t doing this thing to us… I’m not gonna let you do it.” he starts to say.

“What thing, Eddie? I’m just talking to...” he murmurs, tilting his head on a side.

But Eddie interrupts him. “You are breaking up with me, it’s clear”.

“Are you willing to look at me and explain why should I break up with you?” Buck says with a playful tone in his voice. “Because, you know, I was sure I told you that you won’t have to stress out and leave me with Christopher, one of us being the baby sitter of the other. Leaving you, isn’t an option”.

And when Eddie moves his eyes, and looks at him, the only thing he can see in his gleaming blue irises is trust, and love, and something much, much more deep. Something Eddie can’t really fathom.

“I survived hell and back, I slept for like six whole months, I relearned to talk and walk. And you were here all along. I won’t break up with you for your father comments... I may be a bit insecure, a lot insecure, for the matter… but I can get a bit of criticism, from the in-laws…” he says with a cocky wink and a confident smile.

“But you said...” Eddie starts.

“I just said he isn’t wrong, Eddie. Because, in fact, he isn’t wrong. You are exhausted, you work a very stressing job, you have to take care of yourself and your son, and you come here to take care of me too. That’s what I heard... and it’s also true you don’t have any obligation to me...” Buck murmurs, arching a sly brow. “I heard that too”.

“I have obligations to you!” Eddie murmurs, his voice thin like a whisper. “I have...”.

“I heard that too.” Buck says, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I heard you, and all he marvellous things you said about me. And trust me, I know my love has the same shape of yours,”.

“He said we aren’t married but...” he starts to say and then stops and looks at Buck, an amused smile plastered on his lips.

“I don’t need a wedding or a ring to know how committed, how much effort we are putting in this relationship” he says then, his voice impossibly soft and caring and fond. “And please, before you do something stupid and kneel down here and ask me to marry you, trust me, I don’t need a ring. Not now, at least. You don’t get to ask me to marry you while I’m still here, I’ve stayed a lot of time in here, I won’t accept if you don’t woo me around. A fancy restaurant or… after a lot of sex. I don’t know...”.

Eddie chuckles softly, and leans in forward, sinking in his warmth. “I love you”.

“I know that. You don’t even need to tell me that out loud. Your whole body tells me that every single day. Even your adorable pouty face tells me that... And I love you too, so much” he murmurs back, kissing the top of his head. “But, you should rest a bit more at home, take a better care of yourself and spend more time with Chris, he loves me, but he loves you so much. I’m an adult, and you can leave me alone for a couple of days or as long as your parents are here. They are eight hundred miles away from us. They won’t barge in your house and decide on your life”.

“But they...” he wants to say again.

“I know, they are going to be meddlesome even if they were to live at the exact opposite of the globe. But you don’t get to tell your mother you wanted to put mileage between you because they are nosy. That’s what parents are meant for. You’ll do the same with Chris when he gets older…” Buck adds, chuckling. "You just have to pretend for a bit. Then I’ll be out here, and you and I are gonna make up a lot, to catch up... you know?”.

Eddie groans. “I can’t do that. I want to be here. I need to be here. I need you. I need your voice... your touch... I need you”.

“As much as I need you” Buck replies, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “But maybe that will help with your father taking a liking to me”.

“So he finally gets his head out of his ass?” he asks in a snarl.

Buck laughs softly. “Urgh, I need you to be more cooperative for this to work...”.

“Or I just have abuela give him the shovel talk. So, that I can snuggle here with you and Chris...” Eddie says crawling back on the bed.

“That could work too” Buck hums, making room on the bed for him. “Abuela, my ultimate defender”.

“That will work. Because I need the cuddle therapy,” Eddie says, taking him to his chest and resuming where they left off.

Buck chuckles again, a soft endearing sound. Moving to tug Eddie in his warm and sweet embrace, Eddie’s head under his chin. “See, I knew it! You are using me! What a big meanie!”.

Eddie mutters something against his neck. “Fuck, I was falling asleep... almost seven months without you in bed with me and they had to intrude even in that. Dios!”.

Buck cackles hard, breathless. “Ouch, it hurts, don’t let me laugh like that”.

“Serves you right. Making fun of me...” Eddie groans, nestling against Buck and aching in contentment then. “I missed this so much”.

Buck takes in a shaky breath, before yawning loudly. “Have you eaten? They made me eat at five today, like I’m some old man in a nursing home. But I saved all the red Jellos for you. They are in the bedside cabinet”.

“Ah! You know me so well” Eddie murmurs. “I already ate at the station, I just want to snuggle now. And you are tired, they woke you...”.

Buck yawns profusely, moving ab it closer. “You know I’m like a rabbit, when it comes to sleep”

“Or a narcoleptic” Eddie muses.

“Urgh, stop making fun of me!” Buck snorts. “Let’s sleep, then. I’m sure doc isn’t going to report you”.

“Nah, it’s cheesy science” he says, leaning in a bit more.

“The perfect science,” he hears Buck say softly, while his breath becomes slower and deeper.

Eddie moves a bit in his arms, enough to move and switch off the light, moving back on the mattress.

And Buck sighs a pleased moan when Eddie moves closer again, burrowing in his warmth.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to doze off, this time. His heart warm, and his face all relaxed. He feels Buck skin getting colder under his fingertips, he can hear his breath softly caressing his face, his heartbeat drumming in his chest.

It’s perfect.

And it feels like coming home.

In a blink of an eye it’s morning. Or at least Maddie’s voice echoing in his ears is like the hummingbird, sparrow? Whatever it is that singsongs in the morning. He doesn’t move tho, laying there against Buck.

“You told him what??” he hears Maddie say in disbelief, her voice loud, amused.

“Ooof! Be quiet! He is sleeping” Buck groans, tightening his grip on Eddie.

He now has a bit more self-awareness, and notices that he is slouched on the bed, nestled in Buck’s side, his head in the crook of his neck. He can hear Buck voice echoing in his ribcage.

“I just told him his father was right. And he is, Mads.” Buck remarks.

“No wonder he thought you were going to break up with him. His father said awful things, about you and about your conditions before too...” she murmurs. She wasn’t present, but Eddie might have told her at some point.

“I know, I can see how exhausted he is, Mads, he is tired and I fear he is going to get tired of me too, at some point” Buck murmurs, in such a low voice that makes Eddie tremble.

But Eddie’s chest swells at those words. They need to talk about this, maybe even now.

“Don’t start with this nonsense of yours!” Maddie groans. “He loves you. And he waited for you for so long, he won’t get tired during your recovery”.

“You waited too.” Buck says.

And Eddie moves closer, to burrow better in his side. He can feel under his skin where this conversation is going, and Evan needs all his support now. But if he wakes up now, he can stop her before she does or says something stupid.

“Yeah. But if Eddie didn’t fight for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you know.” she says and then takes in a sharp breath.

“I just don’t want him to be exhausted by me. You know?” Buck murmurs.

And something warm and painful clenches in Eddie’s chest. He said so a long time ago, before getting together, long before talking out their feelings. Fuck. And he is about to move, and talk and tell him he was so wrong back then, he was just hurting and angry and... and... and... but he hears Maddie sigh again.

“He isn’t going to get tired of you, trust me. And I’m sure he is willing to take you in for the time being. You were practically already living together” she says gently. “And your apartment isn’t very friendly with your current condition. You can’t sleep on your couch like you did before, you need a proper bed and someone to look after you. Someone who keeps you in line, someone who kisses you better”.

“I still don’t get why you decided to clear out and rent my apartment” Buck groans. She did it before he woke up, when doctors said that he was brain-dead, and they have to be strong and decide. She started with the apartment. But she surely won’t say that.

“Buck...” she starts to say.

“You sure Eddie won’t mind if I go living with him? Isn’t this something he has to say himself?” he asks with a thin voice. “If we don’t count these six-seven months we haven’t been together that long, going to live together is a big step... and... he…”.

“He was here, he was here when you were left with no hope, Evan. When they told us we had to think about shutting down the life support... they said you were brain-dead, and now here you are talking…” she mutters softly. “He hasn’t stopped a second to fight for you. He told me that by choosing to donate your organs, making you do your last heroic act, I was giving up on you. I was leaving you all over again. For good this time, and he stood against me, he kept you here… he won’t give up on you now”.

And there’s a moment of silence, still and impenetrable.

Maddie is right, Eddie won’t ever give up on Buck now that they have the finish line in sight, now that he can bring him home, and stay with him for as long as Evan wants him.

But then he hears a pained breath, short and trembling. “You were...” he hears Buck’s voice stuck in his chest. “You were thinking about...”.

“Yes” she nods.

And when Buck trembles under Eddie, and clenches harder on his shoulders, Eddie who doesn’t want to intrude in this conversation, but who wants to give him as much support he can, just strengthens his grip on him.

“Evan, your doctors said that after six months of no improvements you were practically brain-dead and..." Maddie explains. “I’m sorry, I... I really am. But I really wanted the best for you, you were lying here and─”.

“You were letting me go?” he says, his voice breaking at the end. “You were going to let me go and... and... and... how can this be the best for me? I was left without a choice, you said yourself I shouldn’t leave a biological will, you decided for me! You didn’t trust me!”.

“Evan... you weren’t here. We were─” she murmurs.

“I was here.” he snarls and then takes in a deep breath, coughing twice before continuing. “I was the one who was fighting to get back to you. You didn’t trust me!” he says now, quietly, tired.

“Evan...” she starts again.

“You thought it was the best, I know. And I’d do so myself but… But...” he pauses for a long moment before sighing again, a trembling breath escaping his lips. “You always leave me” he murmurs then, ruffling Eddie’s shirt between his fingertips. “I need you to leave me for... I don’t know, I need to sort my thoughts. I may say something you won’t like and... I don’t want to hurt you, so please. Go. I don’t need you here now”.

“Evan I...” Maddie tries again.

“I know. You thought it was the best. I know. But you were giving up on me.” Buck groans. “And we were talking about Eddie and me, and you decided to drop this bomb on me? I was ignorant, I was happy in my blissful ignorance!”.

“My point...” she murmurs.

“Your point doesn’t matter now” he snaps finally, and his voice croaks and coughs, again and again.

Eddie shifts enough to let him inhale better. “You should go.” he murmurs to Maddie, and moves to grab him a glass of water.

“I don’t want to say something I’d regret so, please. Go.” Buck pleads, his breath trembling in the back of his throat, and he crashes in Eddie’s arms.

“Eddie I...” she starts to say again.

“I got him, don’t worry” he says adjusting his grip around him, and helping him with his water.

He waits for Maddie to get out, he will text her later, or maybe she will text first, or call.

They are tense, they all are, and Evan is restless now, he just wants to go home and rest, and get back to normal. Eddie knows this, and maybe he’ll have to speak with Maddie again about this thing, he’d suggested to avoid the subject, or maybe to wait until he got better. But she was boiling in her own guilt.

“How much did you hear?” Buck asks, his head slumping on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Since you told her to be quiet” Eddie replies, moving his hand on the small of his back. “It didn’t work”.

Buck lifts his head just enough to look into Eddie’s eyes. “Urgh, you were sleeping so well. I’m sorry”.

He cups his face in his hands, and looks in his blue eyes, all red and glassy. “Don’t be, I had the best sleep in ages,” he says before kissing his cheekbone, and moving his lips on his birthmark. “Do you want to talk about it? Your sister said I told her those things, but, trust me, I told here much worse things...”.

“My knight in shiny armour” He smiles softly, but his eyes are full of hurt and pain.

Eddie shifts closer, and kisses his temple again. “I just wanted you back and... and you are back now. And she’s happy, so much to have you back… but she was really doing a stupid thing for what she thought was the best, and maybe at some point it was… the best choice for you, you being the hero you are… would have loved to help other people…”.

“I know but…” Buck groans.

Eddie hums a soundless sigh. “She was hurting too… and I don’t say it to, you know, strike a blow for her or whatever… I just, know how much it hurt… seeing you like that…”.

Buck purses his lips in a stern grimace. “I’m sorry you had to... endure this” he says then.

“Nonsense” Eddie growls quietly. “Don’t ever say you are sorry again. It was out of your control... and you did your best to come back to me, to us…”.

Buck slumps again in his arms, his head against his shoulder, nuzzling in the crook of his neck.

“You saved my life, and not only that day... you said a lot of stupid things, we are going to sort those things out, don’t worry... but now we need to think about your recovery first, and get you out of here and then back home” Eddie says, his voice coming out low and soft, almost trembling, so he scoffs, trying to find some composure. “I’m planning to stick around you for as long as you want me”.

Buck lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah?”.

Eddie hums. “Yeah. Maddie is right, we were already practically living together, rising our son together... so, yeah, you are going to move in with me. I’m not going to let you out of my sight ever again”.

But Evan doesn’t say a thing, he just stays still there for a moment in his arms, ruffling the hem of Eddie’s shirt with a hand, the other clenched on his shoulder.

“Did she really think about that?” he asks after a couple of minutes.

Eddie nods. “Yes. They told us you were… well, but then you woke up”.

“Thank you for not giving up on me” Evan says his eyes rimmed and glassy with unshed tears.

“Thank you for not giving up.” he replies. “You won your battle, all alone, a one-man army. I was just here hoping for you to wake up”.

“But you didn’t let her do that... turning off the life support and all…” he murmurs, his voice breaking again.

“They told us you were beyond salvation. They couldn’t help you. And she felt helpless. Like me. She just wanted the best for you... and I was selfish, because I didn’t know how much you hurt, or how bad you felt, if you heard us or…” he explains slowly.

“I heard you sometimes” Buck murmurs.

Eddie widens his eyes in disbelief. “You did?” it escapes is mouth like a scruffy cry.

Buck nods, closing his eyes. “I heard Christopher, reading books to me… Maddie, crying sometimes… I heard Bobby, praying. Athena groaning… Hen and Karen talking about science and medicine… about space… I heard Chim… talking about movies, movies that he still talks about now… There were Pepa, and abuela, and Carla… their voices always optimistic… they spoke about cuisine, and food, and tv shows…” he adds with his breath short in his throat. “But mostly I heard you. Calling my name and asking me to come back”, he adds, his voice soft and broken with so many emotions.

“You did?” he asks again, a weird pain in his chest. He heard them, he really heard them.

“When I heard you, I always tried to move and… and… but I couldn’t, at some point I decided it was only my mind, that maybe that was what death looks like…” he says, softly. “I know it was hard, I can understand why Maddie thought the best option for me, at that point, was to let me do a last heroic act. But then… but then I think about you, about my brain glows up when you talk to me, I think about how much pain you endured while you waited and…” he tightens his lips “You didn’t choose the easy path, you didn’t give up on me”.

“She didn’t give up, I didn’t let her” Eddie whispers. “I just wanted you back, Evan” he replies. “Chris was going to ask Santa to take you back. I couldn’t do a thing, I just sat here, three floors down, on a very uncomfortable chair and waited, and hoped. And it hurt because I couldn’t help you enough. I wasn’t enough”

“You waited for me, you didn’t give up, that’s enough.” Buck says, a soft smile on his lips.

“And, just so you know, it isn’t exhausting at all. Coming here,” he says kissing the soft spot right before the curve of his ear. “It wasn’t exhausting waiting for you.” He moves his lips again, on his temple. “It isn’t exhausting talking to you, looking at you... now, snuggling with you, smooching you” he adds, and at every word he leaves a small peck on his face. “You aren’t exhausting, you never were. And I’m sorry about all those mean things I told you got stuck in your beautiful, smart head”.

Buck’s breath itches in his throat, his lips trembling and his eyes watering a bit.

“I promised you smooches,” Eddie says, pushing him back on the mattress. “So before your PT, I’m going to kiss you senseless,”.

“Keep it PG,” Buck smirks breathless. “In case your dad comes back,”.

“Umpf ! I’m the responsible adult here! And I don’t want to traumatize all the kind nurses here... plus my dad isn’t going to come before noon, he has breakfast with abuela...” Eddie says leaning in to kiss the bridge of his nose. “Let me take care of you and let’s not talk about my parents for now... after your therapy session with me I’ll let you call your sister, I know you are already guilt-tripping yourself...” he says looking into his eyes concerned.

“I just... I don’t like snapping...” he murmurs. “Or fighting with her... I was…”.

“Angry, hurt... I know. And I told her some hurtful shit...” he replies. “But, let me take care of you, now. And let’s dig in with some more cuddle therapy. Let’s leave our relatives out of our heads for a moment, uh?”.

And said that he snuggles closer again, kissing him. And he takes his time, to remember and live this moment.

Time.

Time that seemed a dream only a few weeks ago.

They have time now, to sort their things out, to recover. Time to be happy and laugh. Time to find their happiness.

Time to live.

Together.

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

tagging @buckleystrand; @sparksfly-buddie; @chrrlees; @lieselfh; @themoonyloveenvy and whoever wants to be tagged!

#buddie fic #911 fic #heavy angst #angst with happy ending #this isn't the happy ending yet but we are so near now! really!#hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #enstablished relationship #major character injury #lamalefixwrites #freaking long things #over 16k words #author.exe stopped working

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lamalefix · 4 years

Text

A whisper of smoke 2/5

read ch1

[read this work on ao3]

Eddie proceeds by the sheer force of inertia.

Hour after hour, day after day, week after week, and it’s been months. In a blink of an eye and at the same time in what seems like an eternity, it’s been months. Something changed there’s a new life: Maddie and Chim’s baby girl, but something didn’t change.

He no longer sleeps. Or, at the very least, he’s exhausted when he wakes up every morning. Three hours a night is enough, three hours a night is enough to be able to work, the least that he can do at work. At night he reads scientific articles, inquires, studies, reviews, meta-analysis. And now he knows there was a woman in 2017 who recovered completely after a month-long coma after a severe cardiac arrest and hypoxia. And even if he knows Evan is out of time, but maybe he’s just as resilient. He read and re-read that article on communication in comatose patients, the one Evan read just before the fire, just before the accident, just before hell broke loose.

Everything changed in those months, and yet everything it’s still the same.

He goes to wake Christopher before turning in the kitchen to prepare breakfast, and looks into the fridge and pantry, and decides that today is a good day to go shopping, he’ll go to the hospital in the evening before coming back home. Today needs to be a good day. Maybe he should also buy the pancakes mix, although Christopher has stopped asking for them by now, but maybe this is due to Eddie’s disastrous culinary ability rather than the fact that it was Buck who made him the best pancakes in the world. But Chirstopher will never say it aloud, rather his child who was once sunny preferred to stop asking. He stopped with pancakes, with movie nights, with ideas for school projects, all he does is play with his Lego and do homework in his room. He has stopped being the usual ray of sunshine, the usual cheerful and courageous child, he has lost that light in the eyes.

And Eddie’s heart became a little smaller and perhaps he just must find the courage to react, to take that step that is delaying and postponing and postponing, ignoring Maddie and what his conscience continue to suggest.

Days have passed. Weeks. Months.

Months, Dios.

He must find a way to get his shit together, to go on for him and for Christopher. For Christopher who does nothing but play with his Lego, do his homework and draw in his room, who has become quieter and has lost that sparkling light in his eyes. He no longer has nightmares, or at least they are not as intense as before, and not even so frequent, but he has lost that light in his eyes. And the only flash of joy is when he goes to visit Buck, in the hospital, in the hospital in a long-term intensive care unit that certainly isn’t a place for kids like him, and chooses his books and gets help to get on the bed as close as possible to Buck, and with a disconcerting delicacy he takes his place near his Bucky and begins to read, the book open for both to see. Even if Buck has his eyes closed.

But Eddie can’t let himself go, astray, he must stop feeling that way. He must go back to having control over his life, otherwise he will bring Christopher down too.

It was difficult to find the words, but Chris understood, because Christopher is so smart and resilient and is a fighter. And he said to Eddie with his big grey eyes, “Then let’s fight with him”.

“Mornin’ daddy” mumbles his child as he drags himself with the unmistakable ticking of his crutches in the kitchen. He is already fully dressed, and although he slept tonight, even his sleep doesn’t seem to have been restful, beneath the slightly fogged glasses there are dark circles under the eyes.

“Hey buddy! You are all ready for school!” he says ruffling his hair, deliberately upsetting something he has so painstakingly combed. He wants to see him laugh, he doesn’t want to think about his eyes that are so distant and empty and tired, he wants to get his son back.

“Oh, come on daddy...” Chris snorts, moving his hand, but squeezing his fingers in a comforting way. “I-I co-combed,” he mutters, chuckling, softly.

“Oh, I see it! That’s why I had to you,” Eddie replies, smiling. "Come on, let’s have breakfast otherwise we arrive late to school and Miss Flores scolds me."

Christopher climbs the chair without too much effort, he’s grown a couple of centimetres in the last few months, and now these movements that were more tiring before, are way easier. He stretches to retrieve the cereal box and pours them into his cup.

“Here is the milk...” Eddie says, pouring a little over the cereals, and with his other hand she brings the sugar close to him. “Before going to work I’ll go shopping, do you have any special requests?” he asks.

And Christopher shakes his head. “C-Can we see a movie tonight?”.

Eddie smiles at him and reaches out to retrieve two tablespoons of cereal for himself. “Sure!”.

And Christopher’s eyes light up, shine like two little stars. “Really?”.

Eddie can only clench his jaw and pretend that the weird, painful thrill that gave him the unbelieving tone in Christopher’s voice is attributable instead to the coffee that returns hot and bitter in the throat. He heaves a small cough. “Sure,” he replies. “And we are together tomorrow too, I’m off… I received the newsletter from your school, there is an exhibition on the stars at the science museum, would you like to go?”.

Christopher smiles for a moment, but then his eyes turn sad, dull, empty.

“Hey, if you don’t feel like it, we’ll go again another time. We can have a quiet day only you and me. Maybe we can sleep late and play all day... maybe we can organize an exit to the park with Denny and Nia?” he mumbles.

Christopher shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, let’s go”.

“Great!” Eddie nods, jumping to his feet. “We have to hurry, you have to finish breakfast and brush your teeth. I’m going to prepare your backpack”.

“Everything is ready,” he replies.

“Oh really? But you’re all grown up then!” mutters Eddie bending over to kiss the top of his kid’s head. “Look here, you’ll grow taller than I am in no time!”.

Christopher snorts and continues to eat, without saying anything.

And Eddie maybe should go deeper, maybe he should ask him something, but for now he decides to let it go and let his son come to him. He never was a pressing father, he is apprehensive, but never pressing. “I’m going to finish getting ready, it will end up you’ll have to accompany me to work and do the shopping if you get so big all together!”.

Eddie slips into his room and finishes getting ready. He doesn’t look at the bed, at the absence in his bedroom, he decides to take a last look at the school newsletter. The science museum labs should give Christopher some light back, he likes the stars, or at least that’s what he thought a few nights ago, when he was in bed and couldn’t sleep. And all the videos on his phone, the videos of the three of them together, broke his heart again, the emptiness pressing in the bed, the silence so loud and oppressive in that room. He had found a good reason to avoid that particular activity, actually, that night, but right now he doesn’t remember what it even was. Perhaps because he has decided that today must be a good day, or perhaps because it was not a good reason, the one that he had found. It was just another way out, but for himself, not for his son, his marvellous and resilient son. In any case, he doesn’t remember now.

When he returns to the kitchen, he doesn’t expect to see Christopher staring at his cup still full of all moist cereals, the straw in his hands while his shoulders shake as he sniffs.

“Chris? Hey buddy?” Eddie calls him softly, and is a little afraid to identify how much his voice is trembling as he says his son’s name. “What’s going on, mijo?”

“I don’t want to go. At the museum… we… we had to go with Bucky” he mumbles. “I’m sorry, daddy but… but Bucky will enjoy it and… I like it when he explains everything and… and I want that, I want to wait for Bucky, can’t we wait for him?”.

And it is the first time he has seen him, his strong, beautiful kid, so broken, so shattered, so fragile. Small, so tiny, he sees behind that mask of strength and resilience that has been built around him or that perhaps is precisely his character. And then Eddie crouches next to him and embraces him, and his son breaks himself into a thousand pieces in his arms and cries louder and sobs and sniffles. Here was his good reason. They had to go with Buck. They even talked about it, about the exhibition about the stars with thematic workshops. One evening, while they were out in the backyard looking at the stars, Evan who, with his gentle low voice, had Christopher in his arms and pointed to the sky. And Eddie’s heart aches in his chest. He forgot. He forgot Evan, he forgot his soft smile when he said they could bring Christopher to the science museum.

“We won’t go there, it’s fine. Okay, let’s stay home tomorrow,” he replies, the air that scratches the back of his throat. “There is no hurry. We’ll go to the show when we’re ready, okay? When he comes back to us,” he says slowly. And he was so wrong to believe that they were ready for a good day, both of them. “Come on, finish eating, and let’s go. Or your teacher will be angry with me if we are late”.

“Can I go see him today?” Christopher asks quietly. “After school, it’s Friday so aunty Maddie doesn’t work today, can I go, dad?”. It’s like a plea, a prayer.

And Eddie nods. “Okay, after school you go read your book to him, huh?” he decides “Then I’ll come pick you up after work and we go eat a pizza, mh?”.

And Christopher lights up, as if he had told him something incredible, as if he had said that he would take him to a theme park, to Disneyworld or whatever it is. Instead, he only gave him permission to go to the hospital, to visit him.

He drives silently, then, all the way from home to school, Christopher looks out the window and occasionally sniffs. He chose a book to read to Buck and put it in his backpack, before getting into the truck.

When they arrive at the school gates, his son takes the backpack and gets down without help.

Eddie bends down to hug him, as every time and Christopher strokes his cheek and looks him in the eye for a moment. “Be careful at work,” he says slowly, in a shaky voice.

This is a new thing that tells him since he has been in therapy or, better, since Buck is in the hospital. It’s all different, since Buck’s is there. And this little charm, his small words, murmured while he cups his cheek, are like a small blessing. Buck doesn’t have his back at work, but he can do it even without stretching out his hand to get Evan’s, he just needs to be careful.

Eddie mimics his gesture and strokes his cheek in return. “You pay attention at school,” he winks.

And Christopher snorts a small laugh and begins to stroll towards the entrance. “I am a good student!”.

Eddie doesn’t reply, while waits there see him enter and then he gets back in the car, but pulls straight in front of the supermarkets, he decides that he must see him today too, in the morning, before his shift. He too must go to Evan.

He sends a message to abuela, to ask her to do some shopping for him, which means that she will fill the fridge and the pantry with real things to clean, season, chop and cook like an adult, and a lot of homemade meals already ready to be put in the microwave. (He can already imagine Tìa Pepa groaning, but that’s okay).

And then he calls Maddie. He never calls her, they have a kind of silent non-aggression pact, they have divergent views on Evan’s condition and no, they don’t talk much.

Maddie’s speeches are yielding, they have the bitter taste of defeat. But she always likes to accompany Christopher to visit Evan.

“Eddie?” comes her voice.

“Hi Maddie, Christopher would like to come with you to the hospital this afternoon, if you’re available,” he murmurs, as monotonous as possible.

“Sure! Sure!” she says, her voice ringing. “Eddie, listen...”.

“I know, Maddie, I’m not ready” he mumbles softly. “I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want... I don’t want to, even think about it. I don’t” he adds more categorically.

“Eddie...” she sighs. “Let’s have coffee before you have to go to work, mh? You’re coming to the hospital, aren’t you?” and it’s rhetoric question, of course. When Maddie stays there at night, Eddie is the one who takes over in the morning.

Eddie has never loved hospitals, and he is more than certain that anyone who has ever proclaimed said love has never found in a situation like his, like theirs.

It’s very hot in hospitals, and waiting rooms are always so oppressive, sick.

They all have that unmistakable smell of plastic and disinfectant, and scots pine to cover the stale smell. And no matter how accustomed he is to waiting, now, no matter how quickly his brain adjusts to the smells, and no matter how much he believed he would get used to spending hours in there, there is still that mixture of smells pinches his nose. And he decides not to focus on that stinging pain in his chest.

Hours have passed, days have passed, weeks have passed. And if Eddie really concentrates, he could even say how many minutes, how many seconds have passed since they brought Evan in there, in that hospital. Or at the very least since Eddie, after collapsing, woke up, half sedated in the triage area, a small concussion and some bruised ribs, the verdict of his condition. A week off. And he hoped he would bring Buck home with him at the end of the week.

Instead, that week went by followed by many, many others, and he sees people whirling and murmuring in that waiting room. His condition is a strange one, he knows and doesn’t know, altogether, how long he spends there in the waiting room. He could say he knows all those faces that move around him, all those voices, and at the same time he doesn’t know anyone. Or maybe he just recognizes nobody, other than the worried, devastated, tired expression that is perhaps the same one he wears.

Whichever time Eddie is there, every time they chase him out of the little room where Evan is sleeping, there is always a constant swirl of people. People who come and go, who are welcomed and accompanied by doctors and nurses, and every time Eddie sees a white coat, his heart jumps in his chest. In hope and fear, in fear and hope. He hopes that they tell him that he is awake, that he finally responds to treatment, that soon, soon they will finally see the end of this continuous limbo in which they find themselves. And he fears, with all that he has in his body, every inch of his skin, every little cell and its micro-organisms, he fears that they will tell him that there is nothing more to do, that their time together is over, no tomorrow.

And when someone speaks to him now, Eddie responds in monosyllables, he answers because he goes with the current, shipwrecked by that sea of unspoken things, of lost time, of decision made too late, of movements that he may had made wrong.

And if he closes his eyes he feels his presence, he feels strong and clear even when Eddie isn’t sitting in that oppressive little room in which they put him, in which he is all grey, including him who is usually colorful and flamboyant, who has that infectious smile and those warm hands, the cheerful eyes and the clear and strong voice, the chatter that fills the air are now just an old memory that digs inside him with such precision, with such diligence that it seems like a torture. And gradually his heart becomes smaller and smaller and his knees tremble, inciting him in his constant escape, even if he is motionless and stands there and waits.

And waits.

For days, weeks, months, for so long it hurts.

There is a moment, in the morning when he wakes up, those few times that he has the courage to go to bed, in their bed, that he forgets that absence. Because even if he isn’t there, even if Evan isn’t there at home with him, even if he is distant, and he sleeps and at the same time doesn’t sleep in a hospital bed, he is still so close. There is that moment, that wonderful and painful moment when Eddie doesn’t remember, doesn’t remember that he went to bed alone and that if he reached out, he would feel the mattress, the sheets, Evan’s place in the bed cold, so cold and empty. Perhaps it is because it’s their routine, his continual repetition of their routine, which anchors him to reality and also makes him live in a series of gestures, makes him retrace all those gestures that he hasn’t done for hours, days, weeks, months. And so he imagines, or maybe it is his brain that grants him this feeling of peace, he imagines that it is always one of those mornings in which they have more time, that they do not have to run to the truck and take Chris to school, and can afford a lazy morning in pyjamas, a pile of waffles, puffy and soft, in front of them on the coffee table, while more than looking at something they just browse the Disney + catalog and end up, like all the other times, looking at reruns of Avengers Assemble.

Then, then after that perfect moment of blissful ignorance, clouded by fatigue, he remembers that the bed is empty. And it’s been hours, days, weeks, months and the bed is always this cold. And hi breath hitches at the back of his throat.

Nobody can fix his heart, nobody can unbreak all those bits, nobody except Evan.

And that’s why he proceeds by the sheer force of inertia, the old routine that kicks to take back its rightful place. A few exercises in the morning, showering, breakfast, and in a hurry at school and then, if he has time, he can pay a quick visit to the hospital, before the shift at the station, like today.

And when his day is awful, and he can’t reach out and take Evan’s, because the shift is too long and he sleeps too little, and Buck is not there to make his day better, to tell absurd facts, talking continuously and filling his head with thoughts, stealing that little peck in front of the lockers, or chaining a series of kisses on his neck, as soon as they come back from a bad call, he goes over their morning routine again and again.

He retraces their morning routine, retraces every single step with his thoughts and does his best not to think, not to look at his hands, the blood that is encrusted in the beds of his fingernails, and at the same time too much time has passed for him to see it, but he feels like Lady Macbeth, and can swear he can still see those marks on his hands. And as much as he disinfected them, his hands, soapy and clean, in all those days, until they started to hurt, he can swear to still see the stains of his blood, crusted at the base of his palms.

And every time he thinks about their morning routine, then he comes to think about that push, Buck who kicked him out of that house just in time to prevent both of them from being crushed by debris. He goes through everything that happened afterwards, he thinks about the fact that maybe, with the right sling, with a rope, he could have thrown himself in there and pulled Evan out, intervening first.

And they needed to move quickly, because in these cases it is the timing that matters. A minute can change things. And they wasted time, they wasted a lot of fucking time. Dios.

And every time he hopes, that little, big selfish voice that murmurs under his skin, he hopes to have gotten Evan in the hospital in time, anyway. He hopes it for Evan and for his own heart, for Christopher and for Maddie, but above all because Eddie will never have the strength to overcome this thing. If he doesn’t come home, Eddie is done, finish, caput. And it’s not a figure of speech, because as long as Christopher isn’t big, and strong, and able to look after himself on his own, Eddie will have to continue to exist, his world will continue to turn as he did in that huge before, in that part of his life before Buck.

With Shannon it was already over when her life came to an end. But with Buck it was just started.

And Eddie could list them, the days they spent together. Nights, he could count them in his hair, he could remember them one by one. Every single moment since that evening, an evening like many others when Buck was at home, after a gruelling shift of thirty hours, and Eddie was at work instead. And Eddie had made a shitty, a very big shitty fucked up decision, which now he doesn’t even have the courage to remember. When he doesn’t think he usually makes fucked up moves, and this one he did to do his job, to be a hero, and maybe a jerk.

And it was like going back, like ending up in that fucking field hospital again, after the accident with the helicopter, it was like ending up on the ground with a series of burning wounds. He doesn’t remember it, and maybe this is other material for Frank, because he remembers everything else.

He remembers never having seen Evan so pissed, the halogen light of the hospital casting a golden glow behind him, he was quivering in anger while his eyes were shimmering with tears. And he remembers having thought, clearly that he looked like a kind of avenging angel, his giant-like physique broken by sobs while shouting at him, his hair curled in a corner, because clearly when they called him, he was sleeping.

That was when Eddie realized how beautiful Evan truly is. He had never thought anyone could seem so wonderful.

He remembers thinking he had wasted time, while his arms didn’t respond to him, while his body was unable to react, however much he wanted to hug him. And Eddie is certain that it was at that moment that he managed to give a name to what he felt, to what he feels even now. And maybe he asked himself or said it out loud, he doesn’t remember it, his heart on his lips, since when, Evan, how long have I fallen in love with you? And when Evan brought him home a few nights later, the two of them spoke. And their feelings found themselves halfway, in a gurgling of sounds never heard, in a rumbling of swearing and insecurities.

It was like finally getting home, his heart finally at peace.

And now…

The cafeteria at that time of morning is already full of people, doctors and nurses having breakfast, relatives who spent the night there, as Maddie did this time. She does it when she has the next day off, she gets off from work and goes directly there. Then in the morning someone usually takes over. Usually it’s Eddie who takes his place, sitting beside Evan and then when he has to go to the station leaves him with one out of Carla, abuela, Pepa, or Athena.

It doesn’t take long to find Maddie, she sits at the usual small table on the corner, in the corner of the two windows overlooking the prehensile garden of the hospital.

They talked several times there, every time Evan doesn’t respond to medications, every time there is a small improvement, every time he has a fever, every time he gets worse, every time he seems to get better. And they always end up talking about cutting off the life support, turning everything off and letting him go, letting him make one last heroic gesture. Let him donate his organs, because that’s reasonably what Evan wants.

“Hey,” she says, smiling, with that affable smile of hers, which must be a family trait, and gestures for him to take a seat in front of her. She has a takeaway cafe in her hands and another that is clearly waiting for Eddie.

“Maddie, thank you for bringing Chris here this afternoon.” murmurs. “I’ll take him back, when I get off work, today I have a short shift...”.

“Eddie,” she begins to say, holding out the other coffee to him. “I read the article you said, that one about brain activity and communication in comatose patients… and...” she sighs softly. “We can try, I thought we can try, we could ask the doctors to do that procedure, to let them perform an MRI, maybe tomorrow, so ... so we are present and...” she continues to say.

Eddie looks at her. And he knows it, that it hurts him as much as it hurts her to see Evan like this, so motionless, dull, empty, like a shell.

“But Eddie, you know that if they confirm that there is no more brain activity, we have to let him go, right?” she mutters, looking at him with her soft brown eyes. “He would like to donate his organs, saving lives in the process, his last heroic act. But I think he left us the choice” and before Eddie can object, argue, that he knows it, he knows that Buck would like to donate organs and save lives, and so on, Maddie continues “He wouldn’t want to live like that, attached to a ventilator, to leave us to dumbing down out of waiting... Eddie it’s been months, you know... the percentages... every single day he has very little chances, and yet I know, I know if one could survive this hell, this thing… that definitely is Buck.” she adds, looking down at her coffee.

“We have to fight,” Eddie declares, stoic. He doesn’t like resigned speeches like these.

“Eddie...” she calls him.

“We aren’t leaving him, not yet. The doctor said it, all the doctors who visited him... we are not sure... he... Evan is strong and...” he mumbles slowly, trying to keep calm, trying to keep calm because what she is saying, what she’s trying to say is… heinous, atrocious, excruciating. And Eddie doesn’t want to hear it. And anger mounts in his throat, a hallucinating, frightening anger. And in his heart he knows, what Maddie says, she says it because she loves him, as much as Eddie does, on a very different level but... but it’s throwing in the towel, it’s abandoning him, it’s letting him go. And it’s early, too early, and they had so little time together. And Eddie knows this isn’t going to last forever, but he just has to try. To do something about it. He never seems to do enough.

She purses her lips and heaves the air out in an almost irritated sigh. “Eddie ...”.

“We can’t abandon him, Maddie. We can’t stop fighting. Give him some time, give him some more time.” he says, and in his ears this rings like a prayer. “Please, Maddie. Let’s give it some more time”.

“Eddie you know, his condition... at the moment is...” Maddie stops and her voice trembles. “If we do this MRI thing and it confirm that there is no brain activity, we have to let him go,” she replies, a monotonous tone, such a resignation in her voice.

“But we don’t know yet, maybe they do this one more specific MRI and he reacts, so what do we do? The doctors said that we can’t know for certain, there was this case, this woman in 2017...” he begins to say but Maddie tries again to stop him.

“Eddie” she calls him again, moving her hands onto Eddie’s holding them for just a moment.

“No. No.” he replies, and maybe growls, maybe shouts. He doesn’t know it either, he only knows that his voice scratches his vocal cords, and it comes out strangled at the end. “You want to abandon him, you always leave him.” It gets away from his lips and he doesn’t have the courage, the strength, to look at her, after saying that bullshit.

Maddie moves back in her sit, and holds the cardboard cup in her hands, closing her eyes.

And Eddie has an immense need for air and really needs to start thinking before speaking.

“You’re right,” she murmurs in a whisper. Her eyes full of tears, before blinking and wiping the corners of her eyes with the fingertips. “You’re right I... I always leave him, I abandon him... I... I promised and yet… I’m giving up on him” she shakes her head. “We have to fight for him, with him. You’re right...” she nods. “But, we have to face reality, Eddie… if there is no brain activity, we have to follow what we know he would want, we have to...” she sniffles a bit and moves to retrieve a couple of napkins to wipe her tears off her face. “We love him so much Eddie, I know it. I know how much you and Christopher love him… how much the rest of the 118 love him… but we have to let him go, Eddie, to allow him to make one last heroic gesture. He... would be happy. Even if that means he’ll leave us, even if that means that at least half of our hearts will go with him”.

Eddie clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. He knows, he knows damn well that Evan would want that. “I just want more time, Maddie”.

“I also want that, you know. I want to see him happy with you, I want him to accompany me to my wedding. I want him to know my kids, when and if I’ll have them... I want a lot of things for him, I want him to be here when these things happen. I want... I want him to finally understand how important it is for all of us,” she adds and her eyes are all shiny, she wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes again, and sighs. “But, Eddie you know, you know he’s getting worse. He doesn’t react to somatosensory stimuli... he is no longer here” she finally says, her lips trembling and her voice breaking at the end.

“That woman too, in 2017, she also did not react yet...” he continues to say, this time in a whisper. In his head, his rationality murmurs that Maddie is right, but Eddie is selfish and he’s not ready. He never will be.

“Eddie,” she sighs, shaking her head.

“Give him some time, Maddie.” he murmurs. “We need time, Maddie”. And it sounds like I, I need time. And maybe as unspoken as it is, it’s true.

“Let’s do this test and that’s it, okay? It’s wearing us out, Eddie. It’s wearing him out. ” Maddie decides and swallows hard before standing up. “We have to start thinking about what he would like for us, as well as for himself... and while he’s slowly fading away, we are doing the same with him. It isn’t good for your son and it isn’t good for you, and it isn’t good for me. Knowing that he is, Eddie, he...” she shakes his head. “If there is no brain activity, we’ll let him go, and we’ll make him be the hero he is one last time”.

And Eddie would like to tell her that she can’t decide, for Evan and for himself, but in reality she has allowed Eddie to bask with his broken heart and in this abyss, in this dark and painful limbo, all this time. But he just nods. “It will be hard. But I’m good with bottling up everything”. He won’t need a heart anymore, if they’ll let Evan go.

“It will be hard,” she sighs. “You were the best thing that could happen to him, you know, right? But we can’t fight this battle for him”.

And Eddie purses his lips and gets up too, he has another place to go, perhaps for the last time. He bids her goodbye with a nod and tries not to feel how bad his heart hurts when it breaks, again and again.

It’s frightening how he knows that hospital by heart, now. And he could arrive in the waiting room without even thinking. He shouldn’t even stop by there and wait, he could just go in and go to him, but every time he stops there to collect thoughts and tries to pretend to be in control of this situation. As if Evan could see him, all broken like that or not.

And every time Eddie is there, that Eddie waits, no matter how much his legs tell him to run away, no matter how the voices of his insecurities, and all his unspoken words vibrate under his skin, it’s a continuous fluctuation of thoughts, memories and his head always goes to some fucking hideous place, then. After the calm there is always a storm.

Eddie has been present at countless deaths. First some of his closest relatives, who had left peacefully, the luckiest with so many happy years behind them, then civilians and soldiers, when the red sand burned his face and the air smelled like dust and flames, then of the victims, when it seemed that it could no longer hurt, and instead they still cloud some of his worst nightmares, the impotence of not being able to help them enough, to never be enough that still weighs on him.

Death first takes away the power to speak, people begin to rant, and perhaps he clearly remembers a young lieutenant on his first tour, when he was still not very familiar with the war zone, who had talked for hours without saying nothing, asking and asking and asking to bring it back to her. Whoever she was, until he lost his voice and the pain clouded his vision. His last words swallowed by the ventilator and the morphine. And then he stopped seeing, moving. The only thing that remains, until the end, and this he had discovered when he was still a child and his abuelo was dying in a hospital like this, is hearing. Even if the person has lost consciousness, it isn’t that unusual for familiar voices to elicit smiles or tears. Abuelo, a big persevering man, had listened until his last breath abuela’s sweet words, a 260 lbs and over 6 ft extremely severe man, had listened to abuela’s latest recommendations with a small smile on his lips, she had never said goodbye to him, only small recommendations as if he could be stubborn and uncooperative even in the afterlife.

And Eddie does not want to think about that terrible eventuality, which is more and more palpable, every day, the more hours pass and the more the abyss swallows him. In the continuous fluctuation of improvements, of high and inexplicable fevers, of positive responses to medicines, and rejections, of fingers that tremble when Eddie holds his hand, and sudden stillness, of those times that he seems about to wake up, and then nothing, his condition just worsens.

The only thing that matters is that he is still fighting, that the doctors still haven’t given up, they try and try to find a way to make him come back, but... but hope is scary, hope is scary and one shouldn’t never find himself in Eddie’s shoes, in Eddie’s very position, three steps back with someone, with Evan who would never want to go away who runs away from his hands, all that enormous love that slips between Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie has seen many, has seen more than he wants to admit, of wounds like Evan’s. And even if he wants to silence that voice, the field doctor in him knows perfectly well that if not treated quickly, sucking chest wounds can be lethal. Taking a quick first aid in the first few minutes and taking the injured person to the hospital can save lives and prevent long-term complications.

Evan came out on his shaking legs from that terrible hell, and now he is in danger of dying because they, because they didn’t move fast enough, they didn’t have the courage to run in there and get him out. Timing is important, and they’ve thrown everything, all of Evan’s efforts down the drain.

Eddie does everything to remain at the helm of his emotions and navigate calm waters, without having to go through them, those storms that cloud over the horizon, because if he were to give free rein to what he feels, the best thing that could happen to him is ending up in jail, after head-butting the centre of Bobby’s face. And this is the best-case scenario.

Because they wasted time and it’s Bobby’s fault. In every sense, that day, as before. They wasted time, a time that will never come back. And even if the doctors have been explicit, even if he knows those complications painfully by heart, those consequences, now more than he knew them before, with his work, with his previous life, he wants to ignore them.

Eddie definitely doesn’t want to think about the consequences, the complications, those horrible names they have, as they ring deep in his head. Because he is sure he has seen at least two or three symptoms of two or three different complications in an ambulance, and he doesn’t have the courage to remember. All that blood will cloud his nightmares for the rest of his life, that noise, that strangled noise of his breaking breath, his cough, will be forever in his mind, will accompany him for the rest of his life. And this is enough for him to have his sleep ruined forever, to no longer be able to work, to end up drifting, astray, he really doesn’t need to know anything else, to know more than he already knows, that the situation is a great fat mess and one has limited chance of surviving all that shit that is thrown at him. He must not think of whose fault it is, as far as he knows perfectly well that it’s theirs, that is all their fault. Them, who stalled, who waited too much, who could find a solution, but actually couldn’t.

But if one can get by, if one can survive all of this, that’s Buck. And if he struggles, if he struggles then they must fight too. But he almost immediately stopped reacting to stimuli, his electroencephalography, has only a couple of curled waves. And if Eddie would listen to his rationality, maybe he’ll just accept what Maddie has already accepted: the machines are what is keeping him alive.

But Eddie, Eddie who always runs away, is in for this fight.

And whatever happens tomorrow, whether there is brain activity or not, his life will return as before, as before Evan, or not. And as much as he wants to stay in control, he wants to stay at the helm, for himself and for Christopher, it’s so hard. Because if he loses Evan, he’ll lose himself a bit more.

He already lost himself, a part of himself when the doctors came back that fateful day, when hell broke loose and Evan stopped breathing in the ambulance.

The doctors, an elderly sixty-something doctor with the solemn posture of someone who has seen these things a time too many, and a young surgeon instead, almost like a young girl just out of med school, with the flat and dim and tired expression of someone that puts everything she has in the job, they were very direct. They spoke with Maddie and with him the first time, and every subsequent time, with a certain kindness, they listened with kindness to the questions, which only Maddie asked, extremely punctual and technical, while grasping at Eddie’s hand firmly .

They talked about complications, all with high-sounding and frightening names. They spoke about pneumothorax, pleural effusion, a perforated and collapsed lung, they spoke of respiratory and cardiac arrest. They talked about further surgeries, which were necessary, but he was too fragile back then, he and his athletic six feet tall body was too fragile and might not survive. They spoke about saturation, about pressure, spills, transfusions, and cardiac activity. They talked about the need to defibrillate him, several times, because at least twice he flatlined but came back, Evan came back. They spoke about ataxia, hypotension, fluids that have accumulated in the chest cavity, and something that has a chilling and frightening name, something that concerns the brain and doesn’t give much hope, hypoxia. They talked about damage to vital organs, heart, and lungs. They spoke about the accumulation of smoke.

And they used, they still use, all those medical terms that are monotonous on paper only, but they are so fucking scary. They talked about coma, before he even went into a coma, about how his body could have reacted to all that stress, about how normal it is that, after a resuscitation, the body gives up and goes into reset. And later, sometime after that first surgery, after that chain of long operations, to bring him back without any success, they talked about solutions, to disconnect the machines, to donate the organs, to let him go.

And Eddie remembers, the sound of Maddie’s breath, her breath that broke between her teeth, as she collapsed on him and sobbed softly. When the possibility of never having him back with them has become increasingly palpable.

She who has been a nurse in a previous life and knows, knows what this means. Something Eddie doesn’t want to think about.

The young surgeon who then hastened to say more, her voice still heavy, of tiredness and shared pain, a pain that perhaps, with a little hope, she might not know as well as them.

They had stabilized him, she said.

And Eddie remembers having wrinkled his nose, and if he still thinks about it his eyes burn, because it’s clear that Evan still wants to fight today, that he is so strong and resilient, and… and…

But Eddie already knew then what they meant, even before entering there in that little room, even before hell broke loose and that... that he...

They had stabilized him to give him time.

They had stabilized him to give Evan time to recover before the next surgery.

They had stabilized him to give them time. That’s it, that’s how it sounded, and how it sounds in retrospect, as if that were the right time to bid their goodbyes, that maybe Evan would hear them say goodbye.

They said more, back then, but Eddie didn’t want to listen. Or maybe he heard, but he didn’t have the courage to process all that amount of information.

Thankfully, even now, when the doctors talk, they also talk to Maddie, and therefore he can’t listen, he can silence rationality and think only about Evan, abandoned in a bed in a long-term intensive care unit. And now even if he doesn’t want to listen, he knows the percentages and how they thin out every day that he is there on the bed, unconscious. Of how his response to medicines, to stimuli, to everything else, of how unique and different each patient is, and how young and strong Evan is.

But basically, the more time passes, the more it is difficult for him to return.

Eddie doesn’t have the courage to hope.

Indeed, he always tries to listen to that voice, his rationality, which mutters in his head. That he is intubated, and that can further aggravate his already precarious situation, as far as he knows, that he probably won’t wake up, they can talk, not him. But he can hear, like abuelo, he can hear. And Eddie hopes that Evan’s brain lights up like the night of the 4th of July, like in that article, every time he hears his voice, as well as all his loved ones’.

And every time it’s like the first time he got in there. Each time it’s like the first. Even today, of all the other days.

The first time he stayed three steps behind, he followed the doctors and Maddie over the panic door of the surgical intensive care unit. Evan had just come out of an operating room, after hours of surgery, and therefore they got them disinfected, and that smell entered Eddie’s skin in that moment and never went away, and the surreal heat of that place crushed his chest, and still steals all the air from his lungs, every step was heavy, every step is heavier than the previous one, today as then.

In a medication room, a nurse helped them get prepared. Now this is no longer the practice, now that he is in another unit, but Eddie still disinfects his hands every time he goes to him. No longer follows the protocol of the SICU, he doesn’t have to wear gown, gloves and cover shoes, mask and cap, Evan’s situation is stable there, but they had to follow a much more strict protocol in the post-surgery to limit the germs that can be brought in there, in such a delicate space.

Eddie let her go in first, and Maddie, and walked behind her, with his head down because he didn’t have the courage to look, because he knew already know what he would see.

And every time it’s like this, and every time he doesn’t want to see him like that. He would never have wanted to find himself in this position, standing in a fucking hospital, waiting, hearing all those horrible words bubbling in his head in a chilling echo.

And every time before entering, he feels his knees fail, and he clearly remembers the strangled sound of Maddie’s hiccups when she first entered. He can feel his fingers tremble and tears in his eyes, every single fucking time. And every time he doesn’t focus on Evan, he doesn’t focus on what’s on the bed, he doesn’t even look at the bed, maybe he sees it, but he doesn’t perceive it.

Evan is perhaps the human embodiment of the concept of enthusiasm, vitality, joy. He manages to bring incredible light wherever he goes, he bonds with anyone, he is always so radiant. That’s it, Evan is the sun, he is the sun and all the stars, and it’s all this and much much more. Eddie doesn’t even have the words, the right property of language to describe him. He doesn’t even want to find them, the right words, in all honesty, he’s something transcendent. Transcendent is the right word. Evan is like a concept, a concept behind Eddie’s sanity.

And maybe Eddie has a lot of that fear and devastation in his eyes, even today, after all those days, weeks, months, there is nothing but devastation and dread, anxiety, his breath burns in the back of his throat, which tightens, and the voice that gets caught in the vocal cords every time, in that exact moment before crossing the threshold.

And then he enters, slowly.

A step.

He focuses on the noise of his shoes, which almost creak on the linoleum. He doesn’t hear anything else, he doesn’t even hear the noise of the machines, the heart monitor, the ventilator, he doesn’t hear anything else because he has his heart that hammers in his ears, that fills his head. He feels his own breath, he feels himself living, he feels his life running through his veins, and Evan’s running away with every step, in that painful limbo.

A step.

Evan is no longer colourful, no longer flamboyant, no longer cheerful, no longer noisy, no longer enthusiastic. He is no longer him. That’s not Evan, on the bad, it is some kind of ghost.

Eddie focuses on hearing the sound of his own heart, he feels his jugular throbbing against the collar of the shirt he wears. He feels himself living, and he feels like dying at the same time, his breath that becomes shorter screeching at the beck of the throat.

If he was alone, back then, when he entered there, in that other little room in the SICU the first time, he would never have been able to stay there, to enter, if Maddie hadn’t been there, Eddie would never have entered alone. Because Eddie is someone who runs away, someone who runs and lets his fears get the upper hand. And this is perhaps one of his biggest fears. Yet perhaps, in his heart, he would never have found the courage to leave. Perhaps he would simply be annihilated in his own dread.

And there is no sound in that room, besides Eddie’s heart beating fast, rumbling in his head, in his ears, murmuring on his neck. There is no noise, or perhaps there is, in that almost sacred and silent environment that looks like a chapel.

The room is very small, and it smells like disinfectants. In front of the door there is a long and thin window, that takes horizontally almost the entire wall, and in the morning it lets in a soft natural light.

The air is thick and smells of medicines and something ferrous and sweetish.

He moves his gaze from one wall to the other, against which is placed the white bed. It’s only with extreme slowness, that Eddie drinks in, every time, all the details of the room. The canary yellow dye that breaks into a thick white strip, to then turn straw yellow to the ceiling. The metal arm to which the various bags full of transparent solutions are attached full, each bag releases droplets at different times, at a very precise and distinct rhythm. The cardiac monitor tracks time in a very particular way. The ventilator that roars, the sound of the pump rising and falling and pushing air into his lungs.

It is strange how Eddie perceives things, he doesn’t identify immediately Evan, lying in that bed. He knows and doesn’t know at the same time what he will see. Like the first time he went into that other room, and looked at him, but he didn’t really see him, not immediately.

Now the room is more colourful. On the walls there’s a patchwork of Christopher’s drawings, on a thin shelf there are books for children and something that Chim and Hen are certainly reading to him, scientific publications, magazines of all sorts, and a vase with flowers, always fresh and colorful which abuela brings every Tuesday and Pepa changes every Friday. There is an unspecified number of stuffed animals, which Christopher brings him when he knows he won’t be able to stay long, and will have to leave him alone, and he doesn’t like to leave his Bucky alone. There’s that multicoloured patchwork duvet that Athena brought him to make his bed more welcoming. There are pictures, of May in college with a large group of friends, of Nia who is now older and chasing Hen and Karen’s dog with Denny, of Harry with Michael grilling ribs on the Grant house patio, of Christopher’s latest science fair, complete with a blue first prize cockade attached nearby. There are all the moments that he’s lost. Maddie keeps a journal and leaves it there, open for everyone’s update.

And after appreciating each time a small, new addition, without wanting to, because he is one who runs away, for the hills, approaches the bed, one step after another, and the sound that reaches his head is now the cardiac monitor’s that keeps telling him, that keeps reminding him that Evan is alive. Is alive. Is alive. Is alive. Is alive. Is alive…

It doesn’t look like him, that thing on the bed, doesn’t look like him. Because the hospital changes you, it changes you as soon as you enter, but at the same time it’s him. And he’s been there for so long, that his hair is long and all curly, and opaque, a thin veil of beard caresses his now sharper profile.

He is there.

He is simply there in a bed that looks just barely longer than he is, that looks like a cage for a bird, unable to fly away.

Evan is intubated. And when a patient is unable to breathe for himself intubation may provide lifesaving airflow, oxygen. However, the process itself is painful and carries its own risks, and ventilator adjustments are important for reducing lung injuries. There’s always the same nurse, a old caring woman, who takes care of him, that provides clinical management for him, that monitors his vital signs frequently, and adjusts the levels of oxygen, and uses a moistened gauze over his eyes. She is so patient and caring with him, that Eddie’s heart aches every time he sees her. And with her wrinkled face she shots Eddie a bright soft smile and murmurs something along the line of a blessing, because he is still fighting, he is still struggling all the way back home. And Eddie hopes that she’s right, that Evan is coming back home with him.

But when the old nurse leaves, he focuses on something else, he tries to remember that he can’t hope, that he must not hope because hope is scary, hope hurts. And he doesn’t have this luxury, they don’t have this luxury. Yet he is selfish and hopes, he hopes he won’t have to grow old without him, he doesn’t have to spend another night alone, he hopes he won’t have to tell his son, that maybe loves his Bucky more than Eddie, that his Bucky won’t come back, he hopes he won’t have to put the pieces of his broken heart in a bottle, he hopes to have more time. Time to live with him.

He moves his gaze and every time the first thing you can record is that big needle that keeps him connected to those bags hanging nearby, and every now and then moves gradually on the length of his arm, leaving a constellation of bluish bruises on his skin.

Evan’s hands, his wrists, his arms, Evan himself seems so slender, so thin, so tiny in that bed he hardly fits in. The skin is paper-thin, especially the skin on his hands is so fucking thin like tissue paper, almost transparent and the veins are swollen and bluish on the backs. The tattoos look like marbling streaks in alabaster, his birthmark seems extremely darker, on that skin so pale, almost whitish, and the always dark circles, always swollen, under his eyes are like bruises.

Eddie sits nearby, usually in that shoddy metal and plastic chair, but sometimes he has the courage to sit on the bed, near his bad leg, he touches his hand with his fingertips and barely intertwines their fingers, with a delicacy that perhaps he only used with Christopher when he was just born.

Eddie never has the perception of how long he stays there, sitting, with shortness of breath, the air that burns at the bottom of his throat, the silence that is pure noise in there, that absence that rains down on him every time, even if Evan is there, within his reach but at the same time miles away. But then he starts talking to him slowly, because maybe if he can hear Eddie, Evan finds his way home, he speaks to him slowly, sweet nothings or something more deep. He doesn’t know what he tells him, really, but at least he must have changed a bit what he said at the beginning. That constant apology, that constant murmur of not having been enough, of not having done enough. In all senses, but perhaps Evan doesn’t even think it, that Eddie didn’t do enough in all senses: that he didn’t love him enough, that he didn’t support him enough and not only that day, but all the others times.

And he talks and talks and talks. His voice an indistinct murmur for his ears, his lips against the almost transparent skin of his hand, and he looks at him, Evan sleeping and not sleeping at the same time. Once upon a time seeing him sleep was a source of unspeakable joy, being able to see him at a time when his defences were all lowered, where he was abandoned in a peaceful sleep, his neck relaxed, his jaw soft, the small expression that occasionally ruffled his forehead only a memory.

And Eddie hopes, every single time he sits there, that it will happen again. That what happened the first time he entered that small room in the SICU, he hopes it will happen again and permanently this time, that Evan will open his eyes and look at him and never go away.

“Come back to me,” he murmurs on his knuckles, against his swollen bluish veins, under that transparent veil of paper-thin skin. “I need you”.

The other time Evan had grasped his hand, as if to stop those words that gushed like a waterfall from his mouth, apologies, remorse, fears. Eddie remembers losing all his words, forgetting the thread of the speech, a hope that sprouted in his heart. For that moment, at that moment, it didn’t matter, everything Eddie didn’t do to help him, to make him feel loved, to make him happy, it only mattered that he was stirring slowly, that he was waking up slowly. He remembers his voice as he tried to get him back to him, broken, all trembling, loving and kind, and something different, something more. And those small movements, very weak, under the eyelids, were their little miracle. And he remembers Maddie gasping softly, all tearing up.

That time, months, weeks, days ago, Evan opened his eyes. And it was the last time Eddie saw those eyes. His kind eyes, yet so different from the usual. Evan opened them slowly, with a disarming, painful effort. The inside of the eyelids was marked with an unnatural and bruised red, the irises were pale blue, almost greyish. But when Evan saw the two them in the periphery of his visual field, he seemed to smile: he who smiles with his whole body, his face that lights up, even if in that moment he could move only his eyes, he was smiling. Eddie and Maddie could have said that he was smiling.

He remembers the total absence of any noise coming from him, not even a slight groan, suffocated, and Eddie could remember thinking that he was awake, yeah, yet miles away. A concern rose in Eddie’s throat, in the back of his head, swelled in his chest and to which he hadn’t wanted to give name, to listen. Evan was clinging to him, yet his grip was so weak, it was like he was about to let go. And an impossible fear mounted deep in his whole body, something similar to what he had felt back in the ambulance. It was as if, as if... but he had decided not to think about it, to talk to him constantly, to tell him everything he could to convince him, to make him stay there, stay there with him, with them.

But it had been only a handful of minutes, his and Maddie’s voices a constant fond murmur, because he was awake, he had managed to come back, which got lost in an echo of beeps and screeching sounds, the same sounds that did the cardiac monitor in the ambulance.

And he will never forget the way Evan stiffened a second later, collapsing. And the world collapsed on Eddie. And, before they could do anything else, he and Maddie had been tossed out.

All those complications, all those ominous words, all those horrible eventualities. And trivially the voice of his rationality murmured in the back of his head, that he could only get worse.

The swirling of voices, the confusion still fills his ears, the high-pitched whistle of the cardiac monitor that goes further and further, but still pungent, while a nurse accompanies them outside those panic doors, will always remain with him, he will darken his dreams until his last breath.

And days, weeks have passed and Eddie is so tired, so tired of sleeping alone, so tired of not being able to hear his voice, and he’s so afraid of not remembering everything, of not being able to remember every single thing that Evan did for him, every single moment they shared, every tiny bit of their short love. And he is afraid that if he stops watching videos, hearing voicemails, he will forget his voice, the way his words roll up on his tongue, the feeling of his lips on him. He forgot about the science museum, already, he already forgot him.

And so, this time, slowly, as if it’s their last long goodbye Eddie speaks to him what he doesn’t really want to give voice.

And when he looks up and sees him, so pale and thin, so dull, Eddie feels like an empty shell too. A piece of himself will go away even with this infinite farewell, in a whisper of smoke. And Eddie hates himself because nothing is sure, maybe tomorrow they’ll know that Evan is still experiencing something, that his brain reacts on a different substrate, he just needs more time, he always sleeps like a rock so, maybe… maybe he can still hope.

And there’s so much left to say, there’s so much more he would say, but…

“I love you” he murmurs softly his lips on his forehead “I always will”. And in Eddie’s ears it sounds like grief. I’ll never love like this again. But he doesn’t want to tell him this, he wants to be like his abuela, comforting him, and not actually bid him farewell.

He kisses his forehead slowly, before leaving. Christopher told him that if Bucky is like Sleeping Beauty, then a kiss is enough to wake him up and every time he hopes it is enough, that suddenly he wakes up in a somewhat theatrical and dramatic way, a little cliché, like the romantic movies, like Hallmark movies, like Disney fairy-tales.

And when he leaves, he leaves him there, in that bed and today breathing is harder than usual.

A/N:

If you reached the end of this chapter, you are now (and again, I hope?) my favourite person! Before the usual closing rituals, can I be brutally honest with you? I imagined this chapter way differently in its first draft. I have it written in two (three, lets be honest, there are 3 different drafts of this chapter here) and none of them were of my taste. I don't think this version is better than the others, but I had to chose if I should have posted a middle, passageway chapter, right after the "incident", or something like a time jump chapter. It occurred to me that while I was writing the second draft I didn't have a line of dialogue in its whole 10k words, you can imagine how I panicked *ahahah*. In the end I opted for this solution that's somewhere in between the other two(?). I'm not a fan of telling and not showing things, but I guess I'll have to set my heart on this half show & half tell (???) thing XD So, please let me know if this is as shitty as I think it is (it probably is). I don't think it is clear enough in some points, and maybe a little heavy in the narrative (and that's more likely the case XD).

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

tagging @buckleystrand; @sparksfly-buddie; @chrrlees; @lieselfh and whoever wants to be tagged!

#buddie fic #9 1 1 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #heavy angst #angst with happy ending #trust me i'm a sucker for happy endings #there will be one #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #major character injury #lamalefixwrites #freaking long thing #over 10k words #sorry this isn’t that good #let's be real

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lamalefix · 4 years

Text

Shockwave - 1/5

[Buddie fic, angst with happy ending; hurt/comfort; explosions; I don’t even know]

When a bomb explodes, the area around the explosion becomes over pressurized, resulting in extremely compressed air particles that move faster than the speed of sound. A wave that annihilates space and time and yet exists only for a handful of milliseconds. The initial damage of the wave is what deals the majority of the damage. Even if it lasts only a blink of an eye, the destruction is numbing. And that’s exactly what is happening in Eddie’s chest. Or, a bombing attack strikes a quite smooth shift, and Buck and Eddie really need to have a break.

[read it on ao3]

Eddie is used to it.

He has heard that ominous noise so many times, so many that he gets sick on New Year’s Eve, even on the 4th of July, when those sounds are distant and lost in the night, and are accompanied by colours.

It isn’t that raging roar, the boom, the thing that makes his blood freeze in his veins, it’s never the roar. Of course, that’s a good trigger, at the beginning, when he had just returned from his last tour, those noises, those bangs in the distance, were enough to make his brain hypervigilant, overstimulated. But at some point, he understood, with therapy, he got to know it. It’s not that raging roar, the boom. But that whistle, that whooshing sound afterwards.

On his first tour, his companions in Afghanistan, a little more experienced than him, explained to him that it is that vacuum left by the explosion that causes that noise.

At the explosion site, a vacuum is created by the rapid outward movement of the blast. This vacuum nourishes of the surrounding atmosphere, refilling itself again and again. It creates a very strong pull on any nearby person or structural surface after that already massive push effect of the blast.

That’s how he handled it: fireworks and gunshots don’t produce that vacuum, so, yeah somehow, he managed to de-trigger his triggers. Having a bigger, scarier trigger, that whirlpool of noise and horror.

And it helped, a lot, he lived a normal life, as much as you can call it that. But then a kid decided to blow up a ladder truck.

And then came the noise of showering shattered glass and screaming.

And if Eddie stops to listen, even without warnings or triggers, he might still hear Buck crying for help, in pain, his weak whimpers clear and loud. That sound entered under his skin, and won’t ever leave. But he can manage this, he can manage this because Buck is always there, watching out for him.

As for today, it was a quiet day. It had begun as a quiet day. The two of them had breakfast with Christopher; and work went by in a fairly smooth shift, some rescues, a couple of accidents that resulted in minor scratches, nothing too demanding or gruesome. Nobody said a thing about it, trying to ignore how smoothly their 18 hours shift was going, because usually shifts like this are the calm before the storm.

And a couple of hours before the shift ended, the siren rang and they were already on the stairs, ready to jump into action.

And while they were in the truck Eddie heard it, that roar, and then that whirlwind of silence, dust and wind howling in the distance.

Eddie raised his head just enough to meet Buck’s eyes and exchange a knowing look.

If we get out of this alive─ he remembers thinking.

Of course, there were people in panic on the scene, but the silence, the disturbing silence of a city suddenly immobile was bleaker.

There was a shiny red car across the street, brand new, it must have cost an arm and a leg. The bodywork now covered in dust, the glass shattered from what looked like a piece of flesh.

In front of the building, a building quite anonymous, probably all offices, bureaucratic or insurance things that Eddie had not particularly paid attention to, there was a bus, a double-decker one, for tourists. The top of it was blown off. The seats and the passengers had been thrown out about seven or eight meters. Some bystanders sat on the ground, holding people’s hands. Some passengers were clearly dead, motionless, their bodies in unnatural positions, others were shouting out in pain, in fear.

Some waiters and a chef from a restaurant at the corner of the street, were distributing plastic gloves: to limit the damage to the people who were there and helped, not real first responders, but everyday people. Doorkeepers and security guards delivered blankets and sheets, even towels to stop the bleeding.

Some young policemen, who perhaps had just finished the academy, wanted to be told what to do, Athena was there barking orders, face stern and eyes fierce. But still, and this must have hit Eddie a little too close to home, there was not much panic in that unnatural silence.

The majority of the injuries, from a first rapid analysis, were compound fractures, lacerations, burns and blast injuries. The least lucky had serious brain trauma.

There were stains of blood and oil on the walls of the surrounding buildings, stains of smoke and dust, and flames, which made the grey outlines of skyscrapers look like ugly imitations of some of Pollock’s works.

When the explosion hits a surface, there is a very specific thing that happens: after the bomb blows off, there are like stress waves, shockwaves, that continue to travel within the surface. These waves move the energy within the thing they pass through. In a human body, they pass through the tissues and organs. Supersonic, like a Star Wars jet. They carry far more energy than sound waves, and in some cases security measures to ensure that a building doesn’t collapse amplify the already destructive effects. And when you enter a building hit by one of these shockwaves, it’s like walking in a building during, or in the immediate aftermath of an earthquake.

Eddie didn’t have time to even think about what the effects of the shockwaves or the fragmentation, could have irreparably damaged the building, he and Buck were entering. Hen and Chim stayed behind with Bobby, ready for the two victims, that two security guards that hadn’t made it out. The rest of the 118 was still a couple of blocks away. They didn’t have time, they needed to move fast. And as much as you can assess the damage from the outside, you can’t know for sure if you don’t go in.

This Eddie remembers, his head spinning as his ears whistle, that loud yet deep whistle that makes his thoughts cloudy and his eyes foggy. The air that seems kicked out from his lungs.

Could this be death?

He found himself thinking about it many times, the red sand of Afghanistan in the bed of his fingernails, muddy and sticky with blood, as he struggled to catch a breath, the air drawn away from the heat and the noise, from how the bullets rang in the immediate vicinity and resonated in his chest.

But now it’s so palpable. Scary.

He has to concentrate and gather his thoughts: first thing first, he has to understand if he can move, if he can move from there.

And then a flash, that dangles in the back of his head.

Buck.

All that time wasted, all that time gone, and Buck was still waiting on him.

Eddie is someone one who runs away and now that instead he has found the courage to stay, to ask. Now that he has found someone else who wants a Diaz package deal, had the courage to take his feelings in his hands, his heart on his lips… now it’s late.

And he had so little time to be happy with Buck, to make him happy.

If we get out of this alive, he remembers thinking, back on the truck, I have to ask you to marry me.

Here, this is what he remembers and also now he remembers that another bomb exploded while they were on the stairs. While Buck was with him on the stairs.

Buck. Where the hell is Buck?

When the second bomb blew off, on the other side of the building, Buck was a few steps away from him, on the staircase between the sixth and the seventh floor.

He can’t even remember Buck’s voice, how it sounded like all caught up in that deep whistling sound that drums in his ears. He was suggesting one of his plans to bring out the victims they were looking for. The plan included a kind of sled for the stairs, the two victims on a desk or a door and the two of them would direct it after having harnessed it. It was the only way to be quick if the ladder truck hadn’t been available.

Buck was behind him, a couple of steps away, and when Eddie heard that sudden rustling, the calm before the storm ─ or maybe he imagined it, maybe it had been more a feeling ─ , he had thrown himself on Buck in an attempt to save him.

Maybe it’s because Eddie is used to that noise, that he perceived before it even happened.

Let’s just stick with calling it a sixth sense. Or maybe he just saw some debris falling from the ceiling, and sensed the imminent collapse.

Realization is like a punch in the face. Buck isn’t there, in what Eddie would call a kind of bonded area.

It’s true, everything is in a very bad shape, battered, the stairs had crumbled with the second explosion, but somehow the entablature held up the impact, and the majority of the floors above are still in their places. The concrete and the debris all around him, but miraculously, apart from being precipitated on the lower floor, Eddie doesn’t seem to have many debris on him, not massive ones at least, nor he has serious wounds.

Now that he is somehow more conscious, awake, he needs to function a bit more. Before even getting up, he looks for the words at the bottom of his throat and tries to reach the radio to ask for help or at least to report his position. But he can’t hear, that damn background noise in his ears is so frigging loud and yet it’s all so quiet around him. He knows that sound, he’s sure he knows that sound, it’s like that scream that hoovers in his worst nightmares. He feels his lips moving against the speaker, he hears himself talk, his voice like a distant echo that murmurs in the back of his skull, but no, he can’t hear what they say. If they say anything to him, or if those are just those muffled sounds that their radios make when communications are cut off.

He then decides to get up and decipher the damage he has accused, and more importantly he need to asses if he can move and find a way out. They were between the sixth and the seventh floors. Maybe he can find a way, a small tunnel that can take him out. Or at least let him catch up with Buck.

He manages to roll on his side, and then on his stomach, the oxygen tank pressing against his shoulder blades was clearly the reason he couldn’t breathe well, when he woke up. With his legs aching, his neck and shoulders asking for mercy, he drags himself to the first wall that seems to have held up the blow. It must be reinforced concrete, or, even better a pillar. He sits up and puts a finger of the glove between his teeth and pulls away, freeing his hand to rub his face, and he discovers that no, at least there are no open cuts on his head and that noise he hears, maybe it’s just a whistle due to the very near explosion, more than a first sign of a serious brain damage.

He doesn’t seem to have broken bones, even if his legs don’t seem very reactive, he puts on the oxygen mask to inhale deeply twice, maybe three times, and regain a minimum of self-awareness. Oxygen reinvigorates his thoughts. He decides to switch on his flashlight to at least try to orient.

He moves slowly, his flashlight blinks a couple of times the light becoming more and more faint, a soft orange. But it makes enough light to see it, in the semi-darkness of that damn place, there’s a helmet a couple of feet away, near a pile of debris and cement and glass shattered.

He needs a moment to re-adjust his visual acuity, winking away the dust from his eyes: the white numbers finally flickering back at him.

118.

And it’s like some slow-motion scene in that big budget movies. And Eddie could swear he can actually see his own body moving, even before his very mind catches up. He drags himself there, near the helmet, his dying flashlight left forgotten on the concrete floor. Panic washes over him. Only Buck was there with him. And if his helmet is there, it’s enough to assume that under that horrendous amount of debris, and cement, and god knows what else, there is Buck.

He can think straight. He knows he can, he does that under pressure, has done that in stressful situations years before joining the LAFD, but he can’t. He just can’t. Not now. Not if Buck is under a ton of debris and cement, possibly heaving his last breath any minute now.

And that’s exactly what is happening in Eddie’s chest.

He needs to call for help, he needs to do something. He can’t possibly move all those debris without making it worse. He could actually smash the whole fragile equilibrium of the remains of the stairs and pillars, make it all collapse on him and Buck and, and he can’t do that.

He needs to move, he needs to seek any source of light, find a damn way to ask for help.

He can’t lose him.

All that time wasted, all that time gone, and Buck was still willing to love him. He can’t lose him.

He hears his own voice echoing in the back of his head, threading through his skull. He even knows the name of this specific physiological event, but the only thing he can think of, now, is help.

Help. Help. Help.

That’s what his voice is saying, that familiar noise in his ears so loud and deep that make his vision blurry. But he is sure he’s crying out for help.

But now he really needs to move, to find a goddamn source of light or whatever, everything. A way to get help, a way to get Buck, Evan, out of there.

He needs to focus, to function, he really needs to do his best now.

The stairs were on the left of the entrance, so the only reasonable thing to do is reaching the stairs and try to find a way out.

There’s a tunnel, on the right, like twelve feet away from the helmet. Maybe grovelling in there, he can reach Buck, maybe he can help him.

So, he moves, he crouches and tries to crawl under the tunnel made of broken pillars and collapsed cement.

And he really tries not to think. And the only thing that flashes in his mind, aside of Evan, Evan, Evan – like a mantra – is Christopher. And the blood freezes in his veins, now that he thinks about his son, who perhaps will lose at least one of them today.

No. No. Christopher can’t lose them, neither Buck nor Eddie. They will return to Christopher, should he dig the way to the exit himself, with his bare hands.

He sees a golden light crackling in the middle of the collapsed beams and concrete, he must go towards that light.

The debris blocks part of the tunnel, but he can actually stand at some point, the overlying corridor caved in and part of Eddie’s way is blocked, he will have to crawl with his back to the wall, and carry the oxygen tank by hand, otherwise he won’t pass. But he must go, he must continue.

To help Buck. he tells himself. Evan. Evan. Evan. he repeats like a mantra.

And maybe he anticipated a fire. Maybe Eddie anticipates elevated temperatures, it is to be expected when there are such explosions, especially if so close one another, but it is clearly a flashlight, the light that glimmers there at the bottom of his way.

Eddie shouts out. The way his ears ring, his head spinning with the echo of his words while he drags himself between the debris, the shoulder that threatens to yield, while tagging along the oxygen tank.

But he comes to the brink of the tunnel, at the edge of another free zone: there are debris everywhere, but there is a person who seems is looking for someone, who moves the flashlight in search of something in the piles of debris.

There is someone as battered as he is dragging himself around.

Eddie can’t assess his features, his face, his expression. It’s like a silhouette that person, and maybe it’s just a ghost of Eddie’s imagination.

But as soon as the light hits Eddie’s face and forces him to close his eyes for a moment, that person runs towards him, limping in a way that seems decidedly painful, but is on him in a matter of seconds.

And it is unmistakable that strong embrace, bone-crushing hug, yet so warm and delicate at the same time, tender, that it anchors him to reality, to life. The familiar scent, sweat, dust and that stupidly good oatmeal shampoo (“My hair are this fabulous due to oat, Eds!”), fills Eddie’s nostrils. And it feels like coming home.

He is alive. Buck. Evan. Evan is alive. He is alive. He is alive. He needs to repeat himself again and again, gasping, swallowing back a sob.

Now that they are together, now that they are together, everything will be fine.

“Evan!” Eddie croaks, or at least he is convinced to call his name, or maybe it’s his mantra. The whistle is gone all together. He nuzzles in the crook of Buck’s neck, tugging at his turnout coat like his own life depends on it.

Buck tightens his grip on Eddie, straightening them both. “I found you” he says.

And Eddie could swear that he hears Buck’s words in his chest, his voice that echoes stentorian and hoarse all together, even before it reaches his ears.

“Bullshits,” Eddie replies. “I found you”. His head spinning and his legs no longer holding him. And he’d like to say other words to him. He’d like to ask him now, of all moments, right here, this seems the perfect moment, now that they are both alive, he must ask him.

Now that they are together, everything will be fine.

But darkness starts to slip at the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision and he may have the feeling of his body giving in, collapsing in Buck’s arms.

Or maybe he is simply out of it even before realizing it. [Continue to ch.2]

#buddie fic #my writing? oh I couldn't help it #angst with happy ending #hurt/comfort #9-1-1 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #lamalefixwrites

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lamalefix · 4 years

Text

A whisper of smoke 3/5

read ch1; ch 2

[read this work on ao3]

Eddie doesn’t know how it happened. What changed that Friday all those weeks ago. He only knows that when he went to get Christopher at the hospital that evening, Maddie told him that they couldn’t give up, not yet.

They didn’t have the courage, both of them, to give themselves that ultimatum. They didn’t have the heart to end hope. And maybe yes, it was Christopher, the one who actually changed Maddie’s mind, the fact that he loves Buck unconditionally, that although he understood, because he is a smart kid and knew very well the severity of his Bucky’s situation, he fights. Christopher doesn’t give up. She started to talk about him meeting her daughter, whatever her name is, Eddie knows it, the name, but it seems not to want to stay in his mind. He has even seen the beautiful baby girl at some point, but he’s so much focused on Buck that he really can’t function. Just can’t.

And Eddie doesn’t really know how it happened, but then they let days, weeks go by, and continued to float in this muddy river of uncertainties, without the possibility of going upstream, without being able to reach a shore.

And yet.

Yet there have been tiny developments, so small that it seemed to be going round in circles, tiny improvements which, however, have ignited hope even in Maddie, who has stopped talking about organ donation for a few days. Evan who occasionally moves his fingers, Evan who occasionally moves his eyes under his eyelids. But to every small improvement, every tiny answer, always follows a flat calm made up of evoked potentials that give no answer, if not a small or large deterioration. But every now and then Evan reacts to the stimuli, every now and then his fingers barely move, when they touch the palm of his hand, in a grasping reflex that is increasingly unexpected. There is a minimum of activity and to that, to that tiny activity Eddie hangs on with his nails and teeth. But as the sixth month of coma approached, doctors began talking. And there is this extremely young and harsh neurologist who has started saying things, frightening things. Without evident brain damage, without a specific cause to be attributed to his brain, it is necessary to diagnose a permanent vegetative state. He began to talk about withdrawing nutritional support, to remove life support, in slow steps so he doesn’t feel any pain or discomfort, and as long as his organs are still serviceable, donate them. They started throwing in the towel too, everyone except the old doctor and the young surgeon, and Eddie is so tired and so angry because Buck is there, he has these tiny reflexes, and those must be enough for them to fight. Even Maddie has started to talk about organ donation, again, she started to say that those are just reflexes and that aren’t that unusual, that the rest of the reactions that Evan should give are important, and he doesn’t answer, he doesn’t react.

And Evan is so thin now, so fucking thin, tiny, so pale, and if they run his hand through his hair, tiny locks remain entangled between their fingers. If Evan is reacting, his body is quickly letting go. And Eddie knows that he has no more time to hope, and that little time he has left with him, he must begin to understand how he will go on later on, when Eddie will give in and consent, giving permission to disconnect the life support and let him go.

He is so irritable, Eddie, so unmotivated to even go there in that little room to sit near him, near Evan who doesn’t look like Evan anymore. He is breathing hard now when he enters the room, his heart rumbling in his chest and his breath shortening at every single step. He already couldn’t sleep, it took forever to fall asleep, but now his sleep is broken all night, and there are strange nightmares that take away his breath, he as an old man who sees his life as a viewer, as he isn’t allowed to live that life, a life in black and white, weak, and every time he wakes up he is even more tired and empty.

He loses patience easily, and is often one step away from scolding Christopher, and it’s so fucking frightening, finding himself being short with his family. It also happens with his colleagues, but in the end, it’s also their fault, it’s also the fault of his found family if he and Evan no longer have time.

The little he eats remains on his stomach, he has this strange low-grade stomach ache all the time, it feels like having butterflies in his stomach, but they look more like wasps, who are banging from one side to the other.

And if only he were less in control, he would be able to cry a little, a little more. And Frank says he should do it, let go and let go of everything he feels, it’s normal that it hurts so much, it’s physiological, it’s chemical, it’s everything and nothing. But he feels so empty, so detached from reality, and continues to go on with his days by the sheer force of inertia, mechanically, because if he let himself go, if he answered really emotionally, if he really connected to reality, he wouldn’t be able to remain at afloat.

He’s just empty. Simply empty.

His head is empty, his heart is dry, and when he enters there everything falls on him. When he sees Evan not responding, who occasionally moves his fingers when he takes his hand, who seems to listen to him when he speaks, when he sees that he is no longer colourful, cheerful, sunny, that is only a spectre, a ghost of what, of who he was, everything falls on him. His Buck wouldn’t want to live like this. And Eddie can’t be really selfish enough to keep him there again and again, even now that his body is letting go.

He doesn’t have the courage to stay there when they move him to avoid pressure ulcers, and as much as he has learned to gently exercising his joints to prevent them becoming tight, he has gradually begun to feel a frightening panic, now that his wrists are so thin and he could swear to hear the patella move on the meniscus. And so when the nurses are there to do those treatments, when they change the catheter, when they clean his mouth and teeth, when they do all those little manoeuvres to clean him, to move him, Eddie stays out of that little room.

Eddie visits the hospital chapel from time to time, when Maddie is up with him or when nurses take care of what is called supportive treatment. He isn’t a religious type, although raised in a very traditional family, very attached to religion, although he wears a medal of a saint around his neck as a good luck charm, he has seen too many bad things to believe in God, yet he has had his miracles in some way. So he decidedes to proceed with this perhaps bigoted hope, and even if he doesn’t know what to ask, if he no longer knows how to pray, if he doesn’t know which saint to turn to, he is there and looks at the wooden coffered ceiling, looks at the cross, looks at the candles. Abuela often goes there to pray for Evan, and knows for sure that she lights a candle for him every time. And he would like a miracle, of course, he would like to wake up one morning with a million unanswered calls on his phone, he would like to get to the hospital and find him awake, responsive, with bright eyes and a sparkling smile.

But most of the time his head goes somewhere else and the thing he prays for, or rather for which he speaks senselessly with himself, is to find courage and not ask whoever it is, for a miracle. He is there waiting in that room to look for that little sign of awakening, that little clue of reaction. And he tries to feel different, every time, he tries to feel new, to silence what he feel, and to control himself. Science fiction, stories, which bend reality. He can’t forget how much he loves him, not like that, not snapping his fingers, not praying in a fucking chapel, no prayer could unbreak his heart new.

And so he needs courage, to give up hope and let him go, he needs control, he needs courage to kiss him goodbye, and bid farewell to a part of him with Evan.

And when he returns home it is unusually silent, and when he arrives at the station everything is unusually off. Eddie lives and works mechanically, emptied. He had to learn to do it by force, at the beginning even the smallest thing made him snap, and even now he is irritable, insufferable. After the week he had spent compulsorily off duty, for his little injury, at least on paper, but mostly for his state of mind, arriving at the station and finding everything in its place and all oddly different, had been atrocious. Evan’s nameplate was still there, this time there was no paper tape with a name written on it, it was all there, his locker with the usual combination, a part of his spare gear, his bag, it was all there. Everything except him.

Then his replacement had arrived. For a while they had stumbled with double shifts to cover his absence, but they couldn’t go on for so long. And as much as Bobby said he didn’t want to substitute him, that guy, Nate or whatever his name is, Buck’s fill-in is a substitute. A five-feet happy-go-lucky guy from Maine with a strange inflection dialect, tall and strong, extremely kind, is in every way a replacement, as if Evan could be replaced.

Then this guy started clicking well with the rest of the group, cooking with Bobby, sitting in Buck’s place and chatting. He talks, talks and talks. And all Eddie can think of, whenever this Nate or whatever the hell is his name, is that he would like to silence him with a punch, a punch well placed in the centre of the face. Both this poor fellow who has done absolutely nothing except the fact that he is replacing Buck, but above all to Bobby. Bobby who is extremely attentive to all group dynamics, who is directive and severe but only up to a certain point, who is ready to intervene in case of danger. Who didn’t intervene that time.

It’s hard to ignore the fact that the station is unlit, figuratively speaking, empty. He must try again to enjoy the lunches with the team, now that there is that substitute who sits next to him and not Buck, he must have the courage to stay a minute longer in the locker room, and look up at that locker that was his and now there is the plate and not the scotch of paper, nothing temporary, which says that there is someone else there, in his place.

The tag and Evan’s belongings are in a box now, in Chim’s trunk or maybe at his and Maddie’s house, because Eddie didn’t have the courage to empty that part, that little big part of Evan’s life and put it in a box. Eddie hurries past his locker. He also stopped imagining Evan, there, in the locker room with him, who tells him about this other absurdity that he learned about this or that phenomenon, a human encyclopaedia stuffed with most absurd facts, that little smile on his lips, before blowing a kiss on his forehead.

It’s been so long, yet the absence there is always so pressing, both at home and at the station.

And today is just a bad day, and the neurologist, the young and stern one, this morning said that they must decide, that with a diagnosis of a permanent vegetative state, recovery is extremely rare but not impossible. And Maddie is pressing him, and Eddie is there about to decide and at the same time he doesn’t have the courage to decide, he will never have it.

But then again, if one can wake up that is Evan, but it is also true it is so hard to see him that, if it is almost impossible for him to wake up then it’s no longer worth let him wither like that. He can still do a lot for many other people, he can still save lives. And maybe they should just let him go. He’ll tell Christopher tonight, and tomorrow they’ll say goodbye and let go of his hand, let go of him.

He sent a message to Maddie before entering. I’m not ready. And it is the truth because he will never be, he will never be ready to let him go, he will be materially to end his life, he will never overcome it. But he has to do it for him, he must have the courage. Tonight he will go in that room and talk to him, do as Abuela and recommend, there will not be parting words, there will not be goodbyes, because maybe they will have luck in another life, and there will not be goodbyes because Evan will always stay with him. As long as he breathes.

So, today more than any other day, he feels underwater with that tremendous new awareness of the time slipping away from his fingers, hope shrivelling in his heart. Eddie just wants to finish his job mechanically, maybe a series of beautiful interventions could help him not to think for a while and then go back to the hospital and find courage, find the right words, put his heart in peace and remember how different Evan is from what he was, how frightening it is to see him wither, how much it will hurt to let him go. But when he enters the station there are balloons, garlands, there is noise.

“Eddie come on, we’re celebrating,” someone shouts, but Eddie proceeds quickly towards the lockers and sits there looking at something in front of him.

Usually Bobby is the one who goes down there to retrieve him and force him to have lunch with them, he tries to weave a conversation with him. And every single time Eddie doesn’t have the strength to replicate, or maybe he does have it, but he doesn’t have enough nerve to avoid bursting, snapping. He’s tired, he’s so tired of drifting his emotions, without a guiding star to lighten his sailing, because his north star is in a hospital bed and is gradually turning off that mighty light. And he would like to let off steam and lose control, take Bobby and slam him on the wall, he who first gave instructions to stop with the compressions, who gave up on him, who ordered to leave him under that house in that hell of smoke and flames, who practically did nothing but deny him the support he wanted, if not to leave him on the bench, without telling him anything, without giving him the right explanations. Bobby who now behaves like a good captain, who teaches cooking to the substitute, who spends his days trying to start a conversation, who goes to the hospital once a week, who perhaps prays a bit for Evan in the evening too, or perhaps he prays only for himself, to clear his conscience.

“Hey Diaz, it’s my birthday, let’s celebrate!” someone mumbles, but Eddie doesn’t hear, or maybe he hears but decides not to react, because his reaction would be the wrong one, and he needs to work, not so much to pay Evan’s hospital bills, which apparently are covered by the excellent health fund that he has stipulated, in addition to their insurance, or from his father, whoever he is, this mysterious occult partner of their life, but to disconnect, to forget his feelings, to keep his head busy. He stretches his legs and hopes that the damned siren will ring. He even hopes for a cat stuck in a tree, all to avoid being there.

“Eddie?” this time the voice is Hen’s. “Do you want a piece of cake?”.

And Eddie moves his head to look at her. “Have you ever noticed that we didn’t throw him a party when he came back?”.

“You say after the lawsuit?” she asks taking a seat at his side.

“Yeah,” nods . “He just wanted to come back to work and we were pieces of shit. He still says sorry sometimes. Said sorry…” he corrects himself with a weird huff. “He was always here when we needed him and yet… we were pieces of shit”.

“We didn’t give our best, back then...” she agrees.

Eddie purses his lips. “I’m not hungry, I don’t want the cake, I don’t want to celebrate… I don’t... you should go up with the others and enjoy this moment...” he shakes his head.

“Eddie...” Hen begins to say, her voice soft.

And he sighs. “A party. I didn’t think we were even celebrating birthdays here”.

“He wanted to do something nice, you know... there is tense air here... you can cut the atmosphere with a knife so tans and cold…” he sighs. “Nate just wants to be part of the group, you know”.

Eddie snorts. “With a party”.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “What do you say, you don’t have to celebrate, but at least eat a slice of cake?” she keeps saying.

He shrugs. “You go, I don’t... I’m not in the mood”.

“I guess.” Hen sighs.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be in the mood. That guy is taking his place. And if Buck knew, Dios, how pissed he would be, and hurt and...” he shakes his head and smiles at himself, if he imagines him complaining in bed, or on the sofa, if he imagines him working twice as hard to get back to them. And the smile remains bitter on his lips and shakes his head, while tears swell at the corners of his eyes.

“He will never take its place,” Hen replies, her tone gentle, optimistic as always.

“Tell Bobby.” Eddie snorts a half bitter sigh.

And she looks at him, curling her eyebrows and purses her lips before speaking “Eddie everyone lives with pain in his own way”.

“He didn’t do anything, Hen. He didn’t do a thing, he didn’t allow us to do anything. And now he’s over there and teaches cooking to that guy?” he grumbles.

Hen sighs, squeezes her hand on his shoulder, but this gesture only makes him stiffen more. “Eddie... Nate has nothing to do with it”.

“It’s a bad day, I should have taken today off. I should have been with him today,” he murmurs with a whisper. Today could be the last day I will spend with him and... I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready.

“You can go there later. I thought I would come too, maybe next Tuesday, you know... I found some articles that I think would interest him a lot. Karen has prepared a small summary of NASA’s new discoveries and updates that will surely please him and...” she continues to say.

“You should go today. You too, maybe Tuesday will be late...” he replies.

“Late?” Hen repeats, her brows furrowed. “What are you saying, Eddie?”.

Eddie purses his lips and rolls his eyes, wrinkling his nose. He would have expected a lot more support from them, everyone knows, right? “Chim knows it, so you know it too. And if you know it, Athena knows it too, and if Athena knows it, Bobby knows it too. I just have to sign those papers and... let him go”.

“What papers? Eddie are you talking about?” she mumbles.

Eddie swallows and turns his gaze to his locker. “Who knows what was in there to make him calm down every time, I would like to know, I would like to understand... I can’t ask him anymore”.

“Eddie?” she continues to say. “What are you saying, he will wake up you know, right?”.

He slowly glances over her, heaves a sigh and relaxes his shoulders. “His new neurologist, the young one, wrote... they diagnosed... on his file there is now written permanent vegetative state. And Maddie wants to turn off the life support”.

Hen’s eyes widen, his glasses glaze over. “What?”.

“She’s been saying it over and over again, it’s been months now…” Eddie shrugs.

And the paramedic moves over him. “And what do you think?”.

Eddie doesn’t know how to say it, what he thinks. “Now with this diagnosis... this diagnosis is final, Hen, and he doesn’t react...” he murmurs as he shakes his head slowly, and his stomach tightens from how much his tone sounds pliant. “Evan is no longer there. The small movements he makes, he makes them because the nerves are... because...” and his voice becomes thin and feeble as a whisper. “I don’t even know how to explain and... he’s so thin, Hen, slender... his hair remains in your hand if you caress it and...” he sniffs and looks at her. “His body is giving up and Maddie... Maddie is right. It’s right to make him make one last heroic gesture”.

“Donate his organs?” she realizes. “Eddie... but he’s still alive he... he moves every now and then, his fingers will...”.

“The evoked potentials... brain activity is almost non-existent, Hen. Buck, Evan would never want to live like this. And I don’t know how to do it anymore, because I would fight with my nails and my teeth, again and again to bring him home with me, but... his body is giving up, and I don’t know how much it hurts, maybe he doesn’t feel anything and... but maybe he’s afraid and it hurts and I don’t... I can’t... I can’t be so selfish, I can’t force him to survive...” he mutters, confusedly. “I will never be ready but, but before he goes into septicaemia, he… he would like to save other lives. He stayed in there because we heard a scream, but I think he was one of those whispers of smoke... and he pushed me out because he’s like this, he’s like this, he wants to save everyone and...” he shakes his head. “And he would like to donate organs, he would like this. If he could choose, Evan would choose this”.

And she slowly nods the tears that swell in her eyes. “Of course, he is a hero, he doesn’t even need a cape”.

“Chris says he’s like Captain America, who sleeps in the ice and will come back to us, to do the right thing once again...” adds Eddie, with a small inexplicable smile, which remains again so bitter on his lips. “I don’t know how to tell him that hope disappears at some point, and you can’t fight anymore. I would never want to teach my son this thing...” he mumbles.

Hen reaches out to embrace him. “I’m sorry Eddie, living with this awareness... I... I didn’t know... why didn’t you tell us? You know you could come to us, right?”.

Eddie sighs. He never wanted to talk about it, saying it out loud is like making it come true and reality is scary. “I thought Chim told you, I thought you all knew it”.

“I don’t think he wanted to tell me about it, I would have said what I think about it, I would have said that I don’t agree, that he is a sleepyhead that... that you should give him more time. I don’t agree, but it’s not my choice to make. Every situation is different, every situation is…” she shakes her head and tightens her grip on Eddie. “But he would like this, you’re right. Saving other lives,” she mumbles with a certain fondness in her voice. “He is a hero”.

Eddie nods softly. “I just have to find the courage to let him go”.

“It takes a lot of courage, but we will be here for you, you know it” she replies taking his face in her hands, in a maternal, kind, affectionate gesture.

“Ah,” hisses mockingly. “If he’s gone, I have no reason to be here. I’ll go back to my mother, my family in El Paso. I already have all the papers ready, it’s just a little form to sign, nothing more”.

“Eddie!” she begins to say, but the siren begins to ring. “We will finish this later”.

Turns out that they can’t finish that talk, later.

The shift worsens gradually, without giving them breath, and Eddie thanks a bit that it is such a busy and demanding day, so his head remains clear and doesn’t think. He doesn’t think about Evan and the fact that Maddie will be there today with Christopher, like every Friday, that she has the day off and for his kid this means spending a lot of time with his Bucky. Because Chris is so good, and he will always wait for him. As he waited for Eddie and Shannon.

And Eddie doesn’t think about him, or maybe he actually thinks about him, thinks about what he would have done differently, he thinks about how much Buck would have been scolded if he had jumped on the roof of a house and not that guy from Maine, he thinks he could hear him laughing, when they are all whole in the truck and ready for another emergency, if he can imagine Evan planning their weekend. But in the truck in his place is that substitute who keeps on talking, who tries to start a conversation with Eddie. And Eddie has reached a point of no return, he has reached a point where he no longer listens to anything, a point where he no longer wants to hear anything, in any sense. His life proceeds by the sheer force of inertia, and he gets emptier with every step, his knees weaker and heart too. Buck would have understood that he had to shut up, Buck would reach out and caress his thigh with that gentle and reassuring touch.

Two accidents and two tamed fire later, and Eddie is sitting on the sofa, eyes closed, trying to control his breathing, trying to calm down. That internal anger that mounts in his throat every time they are all around the table has taken away his appetite today too.

There are still a few hours until the end of their shift and he suddenly feels that ancient need, like an itch under his skin. He feels the urge to fight, something that seemed dormant now. But perhaps it would help him get back in control, back at the helm of his life. Buck wouldn’t judge him anyway, whether he was there or not, Evan would still love him, in any case, beyond any circumstance, any prediction, any bad thought, beyond any wrong choice. Buck would love him anyway. How he loved him unconditionally, for all that short time they have been together, as he knows perfectly well that he still loves him, even in his non-slumber sleep.

“Eddie,” grumbles Bobby. “We need to talk”.

And maybe a small part of him expected it, talking to Hen also meant that. That she would confide this burden to Athena and that somehow it would reach Bobby’s ears.

Eddie gets up and drags himself into the captain’s office. He doesn’t know how tired or how angry he is looking at him, but he knows that resentment is like gall in his veins.

“Sit down,” Bobby tells him, fatherly.

And they had an excellent relationship, they on paper have an excellent relationship. And surely if Eddie listened to his head, his rationality, he would understand that Bobby tried to do the best, even that day. But the best isn’t always enough. It wasn’t enough, not this time.

“Who told you?” he asks slowly, without taking a seat.

“Athena. She went to see him today. And she read the medical record. How long have you known?” mutters Bobby, also standing in his place.

Eddie purses his lips. “This morning, but it was in the air since long before”.

And now Bobby sits down and looks at him. “Eddie I...” he begins to say.

“I think I’ll resign, Bobby. Not with immediate effect because I want Chris to end his elementary school here, but...” he shakes his head. “At the end of his school year we will return to El Paso, I would like you to move me to another station, or to change my shift. I don’t want to work with you”.

“Eddie” tries again to say.

“We will turn off the life support, we will donate his organs. Athena may not know this. We’ll probably take the machines off tomorrow and proceed to organ donation and...” he sighs. "He’ll be the hero one last time. A hero, what you know he does best,” he adds and walks back to the door, his eyes stingy and burning with tears.

"Eddie?" Bobby repeats, the voice sounding like a whisper.

And when Eddie turns around, maybe he has an expression so upset that he stops Bobby on the spot. He can see the captain swallowing, looking down.

“He’s a fighter,” Bobby then says, in a low voice, a strange affection, a pride that inflates his voice. “He always fights, and he will make it, he will come out of it. In a while he will be back in the truck with us. He reacts, right? You have to give him some time more”.

Eddie is tired. He’s tired of hearing him talk, he’s tired of hearing everyone talk about how strong Evan is. He knows how strong he is, how good, how amazing he is, he knows how much of a fighter he is. But, they all have to be honest and face reality. Evan really thinks it isn’t worth fighting for him, that it isn’t worth fighting, and Eddie is afraid that he is now too tired of fighting, too tired of rolling up his sleeves every time and trying to get back there, on that truck, in that station with them, with his family, with the family he chose. And his body is giving up and he doesn’t react to stimuli as he should and... and it’s scary and hurts and he knows that Evan is one who doesn’t give up, but if his body gives up before him, there is no much more to do.

And he would like to get angry, he would like Evan to get angry with them, with all of them, for not having supported him enough, for not having told him how important he is, how vital he is for the team. He has a heart of gold, and they will never be, Eddie will never be enough for him. And if he is lucky, if they are lucky and he survives, and fights a bit more, and his body reacts and he manages to return, things must change. All of them must change for him. And maybe Eddie will also have time to dismantle all his beliefs, all his resistances. Maybe he will make him feel loved enough, he will make him feel worthy enough, maybe he will be able to give him all this and much more. Or maybe it’s late and the only thing they have to do is let him be a hero one last time.

“You know I couldn’t get you in. You have a son waiting for you at home...” he hears Bobby say.

And Eddie no longer sees it, he loses his composure. He no longer has control. Christopher isn’t an excuse, he isn’t a mitigating factor. He didn’t do enough, nobody there, did enough that day. And maybe it’s not just that day, they haven’t done enough, in general since he knows Evan, since Buck is his colleague, they have always been little supportive with him. Everyone, including Eddie, who has included him in his and in his son’s lives, perhaps he hasn’t done enough. He didn’t do enough for Evan to start thinking he was worthy, worthy of being helped, worthy of being supported, worthy of being loved, worthy of a family, worthy of having time to live.

“Evan has a son waiting for him at home as much as I do, a son who goes to the hospital and reads his favourite books to him. A son who wants to ask Santa to wake up his Bucky because he managed to give him this gift other times, when asked for my return, when asked for Shannon to be home… a son that loves Buck more than I can ever love.” he shakes his head with his eyes closed, not to let a tear leave his eyelids, and tries to control himself, because under his skin there is that ancient call that reminds him of the arena, the cage, the noise, fighting for his own good.

“Eddie, I just thought about limiting the damage,” Bobby mumbles. The way he repeats his name might seem aggressive, if someone else did it, it certainly would have sounded aggressive, but Bobby seems to be pleading him, begging him to see with his own eyes, his vision of things.

And Eddie doesn’t want to humanize him, doesn’t want to hear him, doesn’t want to understand. He is too angry and empty at the same time. “You didn’t make us intervene. In these cases, the timing is vital. And he stopped breathing, his heart stopped beating and... and there was so much blood in his lungs that he couldn’t breathe and... and I can’t get it out of my head that it’s your fault too, Bobby.” He adds, this time it looks more like a growl. “I don’t want to work with you anymore. I no longer trust your judgment or mine, if I work with you. I am too angry and sorry, because rationally, rationally I know that you have done the best for us, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Evan.” he reiterates trying to get back in control, at the helm of his emotions.

“Eddie, take some time. Surely when Buck gets better...” Bobby starts to say.

“He will never get better. We will let him go. I will have to explain to my son that we have to let him go and I will have to hope that he doesn’t hate me as much as I hate myself, for giving up. But Buck… Evan wouldn’t want to live like this.” he adds in a low voice. “Take it as a warning. After he leaves, I will take my bereavement two days leave and then I’ll use all my off work days. And when I’ll be back I’d like you to move me to another station or at least another shift. I am not going to play happy family with all of you. No more, never more” and before he can say anything more the siren rings, alerting them of another emergency.

And Eddie is already on the stairs, ready for action.

In the truck he doesn’t listen, in the truck he just thinks. He thinks and rethinks about today, what will happen today and then tomorrow, and what will happen from tomorrow onwards.

When he’ll go to the hospital today, he will talk to him about his day, he will talk to him about today’s emergencies. He will tell him how that tutorial on youtube didn’t help him at all not to burn their toast this morning. He will describe the sunset and the drawings of the clouds in the sky. He will recommend him not to do anything stupid wherever he goes, and will hold his hand until he begins to understand how to do it, how to live without him, how to leave his hand.

A change of air, returning to El Paso could be another fresh start. But he doesn’t want a brand new start, he won’t get a brand new start from the pieces torn apart. Eddie wants to feel that pain and doesn’t want to forget it. Because a lot of love corresponds to the same pain, and even if more months have passed in that muddy limbo, of uncertainties and time that flows away from the fingers, rather than those they have actually spent together loving each other, with all their heart, with their whole bodies, with their whole minds, Evan will leave an unbridgeable void. But he needs someone, someone who will keep him afloat in the future, otherwise he will bring his son, his tiny ray of sunshine, down into his pitch black abyss.

It is a young couple, the one woven into the sheet-metal of a Saab. She who cries out in pain, the horrible awareness that he is not breathing on her.

She comes out intact, she, as Eddie got out unscathed that day. While he, whose life is hanging by a thread, quickly fizzles on the stretcher, before reaching the ambulance. And he protected her, he took all the shock when he noticed the other car, which was about to take them in full. And he played the hero like Buck and life, bastard, took him away, like is taking Evan away.

It’s almost the end of his shift when that phone call arrives. They just finished recovering their tools and got back on the truck, leaving behind the place of an accident where not only devastation hovers, but the vague memory, a tremendous understanding, an inalienable judgment. They haven’t done enough, they haven’t been there on time, they haven’t be enough, like that other day. Sorrow overshadow Eddie’s heart.

So, Eddie answers almost without thinking, without looking at the screen. And he hears someone sniffling, breathing heavily. “Daddy?”.

“Hey buddy, what’s going on? You never call me when I’m at work.” he hums, trying not to read as much in his kid’s voice, like his grief is only a shadow that walks with him today, more than any other day. “Chris? What’s going on, mijo?”.

“Daddy...” he repeats again and hears him sobbing.

And his heart becomes so small in his chest. “Chris, Chris? Let me talk to Maddie, alright, buddy?” he mumbles and glances at Bobby who is already facing him. And he does everything in his power to breathe slowly, he does everything he can not to panic.

“Eddie, Eddie you have to come here right away... Evan... collapsed...” says Maddie, breathless.

“What?”. Eddie doesn’t even hear himself saying it, he couldn’t be a judge of how painfully that sound rings in his ears.

“We were with him, inside and... suddenly the saturation dropped all together. They sent us out... Eddie I’m afraid that...” she starts to explain.

“Don’t say it” He blocks her. And he knows, he knows that if she says it out loud his heart will break into a thousand pieces, but then there is Christopher there and he still hasn’t explained anything to him, he hasn’t explained to him what will happen when they let him go. “Not in front of Christopher, not yet, okay? I’m coming, give me time, I’m coming,” he tells her and begins to silently pray for time. Time to see him one last time and hope one last time.

“What’s going on Eddie?” asks Bobby.

“Evan. He... I have to go to the hospital. The saturation dropped” he replies mechanically, trying to control himself, but in his head there is only that silent and boundless prayer.

He will be late, he knows it. It’s already late. The sun is setting and he is not ready. He wanted more time, he was still thinking about what to tell him, because he knows that Evan hears him, he knows that he can hear him. He could hear his voice. And now?

Throughout the stretch of road, he continued to think, think and rethink. They will not see Christopher grow in the wonderful man he will be, they will not grey together bickering in the backyard, they will not look at the stars together, they will not see the sunset together. They will not have the good immense luck to marry, they will not love and fight, and reconcile. Take and get lost in each other. They have not had this immense luck, of being able to love each other for a long time, of being able to get used to the idea of not having a future together. Their nights together were a trickle, numbered, like the days they spent together, work a distant memory, pain and suffering, the continuous not being enough to save lives.

Eddie feels so drained when he gets there. When the noise of the hospital swallows his thoughts. And there is this storm that is swelling in his chest.

Buck was there when he started his new life, he was a constant. His presence has been a constant even when they have been far away, the need to have him in his life, in his daily life has broken a monotony, a schematic, pragmatic routine, forged by his mental state and his past. And there were little things, little big things in their days, little steps that became brighter and happier. The problem with people is that they often forget that it’s the little things that matter most, and Evan is the light, and the oxygen, he’s his way home, he is all the little big things that made his life better. And Eddie knows that he will have to go on, that his life must go on, anyway, grit his teeth and walk, proceed along the road of his life, even without having Evan next to him, without being able to reach out and hold his hand and find comfort, safety, anchoring. He has always been there in this new part of his life, and Eddie could now divide his life into a before and an after. In a before and after Buck. And his brief while has already come to an end. Their numbered nights. Their numbered days.

And it’s late, it’s late, it’s late. It’s so fucking late. Buck who was there even before he felt the need, Evan who has become an integral, crucial part of his life, and who will now leave an infinite void. Until his heart stops hurting. Because one day it will stop, and Eddie is afraid right now of when that day will come, when he will stop feeling this incredible void.

He knows the hospital by heart, and when he gets out of the truck his legs are going for him, his body moving autonomously, and his mind, his mind traveling fast towards that day, towards that day when he will thank goodness, and fear takes his heart. One person can’t disappear like this, Eddie can’t stop feeling that pain. He still misses Shannon, sometimes, so hard that it breaks his heart. He still misses the mother she could have become, the wonderful woman who did her best. Eventually over time all the mistakes disappear, all the quarrels, all the fights become little nothings and only the good things remain, and perhaps the therapy helped him a little. With Buck, with Evan he didn’t have the time to build those memories, yet his warmth in his life was so great, his colours so bright, his affection so essential.

Eddie walks past the chapel and looks at the cross and the candles that shine at the bottom on the altar from the small mosaic window. And prays, prays, to have some more time at least for the latest recommendations, to tell him how much he loves him, at least one last time. He won’t be able to demonstrate all that love to him, he won’t be able to operate that love, he won’t be able to give it voice.

And then he proceeds, walks quickly, steps heavy and knees that seem to tremble.

And when he arrives in the waiting room there is Christopher holding his book tightly against his chest and his head down and Maddie trying to calm him.

“I got here as fast as I could” murmurs Eddie, the turnout coat and the pants and braces that weigh him down now, all together.

“Daddy!” peeps Christopher throwing himself into his arms. “We have to wait for him some more, right? We wait for him?”.

Maddie takes a choked breath between her clenched teeth.

“Okay mijo, you and I need to talk about something, okay?” he babbles cupping his son’s face with his hand before hurrying to take off his coat and those heavy trousers, to remain with his station uniform, his thin blue trousers and his T-shirt. And then he looks over at Maddie, and smiles softly before turning his attention again to his kid. He kneels down in front of him, and takes a deep breath.

“But we fight with him, do─don’t we? We─We don’t stop fighting, do we? Because if we stop… he stops too,” Chris murmurs sobbing quietly, his eyes are reddened by tears.

And Eddie then leans over to him and takes his little face between his fingers and smiles softly, wrinkling his nose, before pulling him into a tight tight hug. “You know your Buck always fights, don’t you? But there is a time when we can no longer fight for him, and we can no longer ask him to fight.” he says softly. “He wants to do fight like Ironman now. Snap his fingers and save lives, but you know what this means...” he mumbles and is amazed at how simple it is to say it this way, an allegory. And he hears Christopher nod as he sniffles. “And you know that I would never want him to snap his fingers and decide for us, but...”.

Christopher nods and lowers his gaze, his shoulders trembling. “Like Iron -man? But if he snap his fingers...”.

“Look at me Christopher,” Eddie says softly and picks up his tiny face again between his fingers, and tries to stretch a smile, even if his eyes are burning and he feels like crying and would never want to do this speech. “It won’t erase him from our hearts, it’s normal to feel sad, he will always love us even if we stop fighting and let him be the hero. He will always be with us, like mommy, huh? And we will love him anyway even if he has decided to be a hero and snap his fingers, and to go away and save many other people if he does”. He adds swallowing a thick lump in his throat. “You know he is a hero and... and we would have loved him anyway that he was a superhero or a supervillain, because Buck is Buck”.

“But I... I haven’t finished reading the book to him,” Christopher adds with his trembling voice. “I pro─promised to read it to him, to finish it... few pages... only one chapter to go”.

And Eddie doesn’t know what to say, and just hugs him before looking at Maddie. And then move his gaze to something else, anything else.

And then he hears footsteps, a brisk, quick step. A nurse who enters the waiting room. “Family of an Evan Buckley?”.

And Eddie looks at Maddie and silently entrusts Christopher to her. “I’m going to talk to the doctor, okay? I’ll be right back, stay with aunt Maddie, the others are coming soon,” he adds before reaching the nurse.

And he pretends not to feel that emptiness, which falls upon him as soon as he lets go of his son.

The nurse walks quickly towards the panic doors of the ICU and hurries to say many things, she speaks all out of breath, but the only thing he can understand is that the doctor, the one whose name Eddie has never learned, but sounds in a strangely familiar way, wants to talk to him. And they pass in front of Evan’s little room and he is not there. And there is an attendant, who is arranging the bed and has already begun to detach all the photos and drawings from the wall, to place them in a box with his name and a number written in a black sharpie. And Eddie’s head is emptied of all possible thoughts and scenarios, of all words and sees the light fade away, and for a moment it is hard to remember the way Evan laughed, or the warmth of his hands, or the full body grasp of his hugs.

And a small void hollows out in his heart, and then all around it, he could swear to feel emptied, almost completely when he finally sees the doctor, who is at the door of a duty nurse office and is disinfecting his hands.

“Oh, Edmundo!” he says in this extremely friendly tone.

And Eddie remains motionless for a moment, and watches him and then the words reappear at the bottom of the throat. “We want to donate his organs, is it possible to donate his organs? I... I temporised… It’s my fault… I just wanted him to wake up but it’s not... it’s not possible anymore is it? So... please, please... his sister and I agree, if I have to sign something” he finds himself saying, his words a river in flood. “Let me sign, he... Evan would like to save lives, donate organs. If they are still good, if it is still possible”.

The doctor looks at him with wide eyes and seems to be evaluating his mental state. “No... it’s not possible to donate organs, Eddie,”.

And the world collapses on him. He didn’t get there on time. He also failed to honour Evan. Damn it! He just wanted to be an hero, Evan just wanted to save people, one last time, with all he had. “I’d like to see him then. Please I... I have to see him before you put it in the morgue and...”.

“Morgue? But Nurse Josie, what did she tell you?” the doctor babbles, his wrinkles that seem thinner now, less hollowed out, and when he smiles, it’s a smile that doesn’t have that scary taste of pity.

Eddie stops and looks at this old man’s calm face and then moves to look for the nurse who is no longer there. “He collapsed, didn’t he? He can’t go on like this, if he’s got worse, we are ready, we throw in the towel, we give up, we let him go. And I’m sure some organs will still be good,” he continues to say, and his breath shortens in the back of his throat and feels his heart racing and echo in his chest.

And the doctor approaches him and places a hand on his shoulder. “Eddie, breathe. Slow down, please. You definitely can collapse, now” he mumbles, smiling softly. “You should have got Madeline come here with you,” he says gently. “Would you like to sit down for a moment? So you can catch a breath”.

“I have to see him,” Eddie manages to say.

“And you will see it, sure, but now I have to talk to you because I have to tell you things and I have to explain them well and you must not be panicking, it will not do anyone any good if you panic” the doctor adds, with a kind tone and makes him approach a bench in the medication room, the one usually used to put shoe covers on.

“I saw that... I saw that they took his things out of the room. I saw that they have... a box of his things…” Eddie says shaking his head and closing his eyes.

“Eddie sit down,” he says, and Eddie executes the order like the good soldier he was in another life, in another before, before Buck, and only then does the doctor sit in front of him. “Breathe slowly, you can’t collapse, not now. I knew you didn’t want to follow the group therapies that are there to support families... but Madeline told me that you have your own therapist so... you all have your own therapist,” he adds.

“Has he collapsed? What have you done? Have you stabilized him? He... Evan doesn’t want to live on life support... we waited too long and I…” he mutters, standing up. “I must see him and you must... you really must─”.

“Okay you really have to listen to me” the doctor says stern, and Eddie just hushes, and lets his head drop.

The doctor waits for a moment, instructing him with calculated short breaths.

And when finally Eddie seems a bit more in control, he starts talking again. “He is breathing, Eddie. Independently. He breathes and opened his eyes. It wasn’t a collapse, he rejected the endotracheal tube,” he simply says. “It took us a while to do the first tranche of exams and tests, and he will have to do many more and a lot of therapy, physical and psychological, maybe a bit of logopaedic therapy, but... he breathes and is awake, not exactly alert, but he has opened his eyes and has is reacting good, really”.

“He breathes? Evan? Evan is… On his own?” Eddie repeats with a small voice and feels his knees give in, the adrenaline abandoning him completely, his breath breaks in his throat and it takes a moment for him to find his balance and remain standing straight, and he must reach out with his back the first wall available to support himself. “He breathes?”.

“Yes, we had noticed small reflexes, but in these cases, it is impossible to predict the chances of someone in a state of impaired consciousness improving. Some improve gradually, others stay in a state of impaired consciousness for years.” he begins to say .

Eddie looks at him incredulously. He must have hit his head, very hard, this is his first thought, or he is dreaming. “The other doctor said...”.

“I have my theory and I think Evan has heard of ending his life and is back to kick us in the ass, Eddie,” he replies, pursing his lips in an awkward smile.

“And he is awake, like now?” he asks slowly, he needs a lot more time to process all this informations.

“Recovering from coma is a gradual process, starting with the person opening eyes, and responding to pain and speech.” the doctor says, smiling softly “We are currently performing an MRI and a couple more exams. The length of a coma is the most accurate predictor of long-term symptoms. You know, right?” he adds with a murmur.

Eddie nods. “The longer the coma, the greater likelihood of residual symptoms” they repeated it like a mantra, so it’s like a mantra for Eddie and Maddie too. “You made it pretty clear”.

The doctor moves to grasp Eddie’s harm with his hand. “Glasgow scale 8, right now. He’s improving very fast. So we guess he wasn’t in that deep coma he seemed to be, the past few days at least. Or we could call it a miracle. Either way he is awake, now”.

“He is tough” Eddie says a little smirk on his lips, while his eyes are full of tears. “He is a survivor”.

“He surely is,” the doctor hums in agreement. “Okay, now, after the MRI they are going to move him in his new room, in our sub-intensive care unit. I’ll take you there, now”.

“Isn’t it a bit early, moving him around like that? In another unit, he could...” he starts to say, but then the doctor looks at him with this confident face.

“Eddie he is awake, very grumpy but, awake and breathing, and as his recovery proceeds like this, he’ll be up and kicking our ass in a blink of an eye. He can’t talk right now, due to the intubation, but he opens his eyes in response to voice, withdraws from painful stimuli. He can’t lift his hands as much as we hoped right now but does pull away when he is pinched. That makes him very grumpy, so I suggest you not to do it…” he adds. “And we are keeping an eye on him there, like a very close eye. I guess doctor Green wants to write an article about his miraculous recovery so, there are going to be at least three nurses and a lot of residents and interns around him monitoring him. And I guess he’ll get even grumpier”.

Eddie seems to be quite content with this answer. “Can I see him?”.

The doctor smiles softly. “Yeah, you may be a good support, as I said…”.

“He is a very cranky patient.” Eddie nods, his legs now tremble for the wait, for the excitement. He’s going to see him. No matter how big and scary his residual symptoms are, he is going to see him. He has more time, he has more time to live with him.

The doctor slowly accompanies him down the corridor, towards what they call a sub-intensive care unit.

Here the walls are brighter, the usual straw yellow but it seems freshly painted, and here and there is stained by large splashes of colour which are perhaps stylized flowers. But Eddie’s heart is in his throat and this time he doesn’t want to focus on the details. He doesn’t even read the room number, and he’ll have to do it later, when he calls Christopher and Maddie, because he’ll have to bring them back here, he’ll have to bring them to him.

There are doctors around the bed, and there is an almost sacred silence again. The heart monitor still marks time in its own way. But then he hears it, that sound, a sound strangled like a moan, and then a half-voiced, distressed rumbling.

“You will have to help him drink with a teaspoon, Evan has been extubated for about three hours now, and can’t ingest large quantities of water, but it could give him some relief.” he hears the doctor say before he approaches the other doctors around the bed. And he begins to speak in a gentle tone to Evan and he hears him inciting him with an almost fatherly attitude. “There is a surprise for you here, now I bring him closer and you try to open your eyes, huh? Do you understand Evan?” he then says and gestures to Eddie to come closer.

And it takes a moment for Eddie to notice that his legs are moving on their own accord, towards the bed and the doctor leaves him the space to get closer, and entrusts Evan’s hand in his.

And he does not even have time to start talking that he sees those tiny movements of his eyes under the eyelids. And when they tighten, his heart swells in his chest, waiting, eager.

It takes Evan a moment, his fingers twitching in Eddie’s hand. But then he opens slowly, painfully his eyes. And it’s a bright blue, the one that looks out of the slits, of his half-open eyes. He blinks slowly and Eddie draws a choked breath between his teeth.

And his legs give way to him and if there wasn’t that chair nearby, he would be kneeling near the bed, his face on the mattress and his shoulders trembling with his sobs.

And now yes, now yes that sobs come scratching his throat, now yes that he can lose control.

He doesn’t even notice that the doctor begins to push away all those other doctors, who now move like white shadows in the periphery of his field of vision, while Eddie drinks that blue sea, and then moves his gaze when Evan just tightens his grip of him, weakly yet so dearly. And then he sees the nasal respirator that serves to give him the right supply of oxygen without being too invasive, now that he breathes alone, and chapped lips and that little smile.

“Hey” is all Eddie manages to say and his voice is like a whisper.

And Evan just closes his eyes and stretches his smile a little wider, and moves his hand away from Eddie’s hovering over his forearm until he grasps the lateral head of his left bicep, and it is as if he is asking Eddie to move closer. When he reopens his eyes are full of tears and he looks so tired.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m here and you’re here. And you’re... you’re alive, you’ve been so good, you are… oh fuck Evan you are so good!” he says and makes him a smile brighter. “You really are a fighter, I’m so proud of you. You are amazing, you are… so fucking good”.

Evan tightens his grip on his arm and mumbles something, the sound is hoarse and deaf, but he has always been so good at communicating without having to speak. And Eddie barely looks at the doctor, who is still there by the door as if asking for permission and when he nods as if to say go ahead, Eddie approaches and bends down just to rest a kiss on the corner of Buck’s mouth.

And as soon as he hears Evan moan, gasping a sound that seems almost a whimper, Eddie moves away. And with a not so fluid and almost heavy gesture as if his hand weighed, Evan brings his free hand at the base of his trachea.

“Yes, I know. I know, mi amor. Your throat is very irritated, your vocal cords are sore, but it will take a blink of an eye to start talking again, I know” Eddie nods with the voice so gentle that almost terrifies him, and moves to rest his lips on Buck’s forehead, to reduce the space that divides them.

Evan groans softly.

“You don’t need words with me, huh? You know?” he adds as he straightens up on his seat and brings Buck’s hand to his mouth, then, to kiss the knuckles and the fingertips and the palm softly.

And Evan moves slowly to brush Eddie’s cheek, to wipe away that fugitive tear that has escaped from the tear ducts. And he seems to frown for a moment before muttering something again. And it sounds like don’t cry to Eddie’s ears.

“They are tears of joy. You are awake, you are finally awake.” he explains, the words that roll up on his tongue and he wouldn’t even know how they sound to his ears, as he is busy looking at him, so busy finally feeling him living. “Don’t do it again, mh? You know that I can’t live without you anymore” he adds, holding Evan’s hand in that position, supporting it with his own and reducing more the space between their faces, so as to ease his awkward caress.

And Evan’s fingers tremble on his cheekbone.

And now Eddie looks at him better and even though his eyes are bright and a little wet with unshed tears, and this big soft smile sparkles on his lips, he seems so immensely tired and battered and pale and thin. The respirator in his nostrils must bother him enough because he occasionally wrinkles his nose and closes an eye when he runs his tongue over his chapped lips. But he smiles, and looks at him and his fingers are warm, and the way he clings to Eddie, the way he caresses him, it’s all so reassuring.

Eddie can’t help but look at him with such satisfaction, with such affection, with so much fondness and pride. He is alive. And he struggled all by himself to stay there. And surely as soon as he knows, as soon as they tell him how they were giving up on him, he will kick them and get pissed enough. And honestly Eddie can’t wait to hear him grumble, to see him pissed off, to have to make up with him and kissing him better.

“Hey, you scared us so much, but now you’re here and... you know your sister is looking forward to seeing you and... Christopher, Christopher wants to see you and...” he continues to say and the words escape his throat with a strange sound, his voice trembling.

And Evan curls his eyebrows, and swallows hard and tries to open his mouth, tries to let out some sound, but the only thing that comes out is still that little dull sound, that whimper that looks like a cry.

And Eddie rediscovers himself with tears in his eyes, with shortness of breath at the bottom of his throat, with his breath broken by ugly sobs, and he didn’t believe he had more tears, or that he could cry more. But this is joy, a strange joy that falls upon him transcendent, such a great relief, such satisfaction. And his heart almost hurts in his chest, as he bends down once more to kiss him slowly. And Evan curls his station shirt between his fingers, as if to mimic a kind of hug, as if holding him tightly.

“It’s all right, sorry. Sorry... I was losing hope... but you... you... you are formidable that’s what you are, you are incredible and… fuck” he manages to say, his lips still on his skin, again at that corner of his mouth and then sliding on his lips. “And you know I’m not good at talking... I...”.

And he hears him make a vaguely strangled but unmistakable sound. It’s his laugh, although it doesn’t seem like a laugh at the moment, but that’s definitely a chuckle, pleased and mocking.

Eddie pulls himself up and collects his face in his hands . “Argh, you laugh huh?”.

Evan closes his eyes with some satisfaction and curls his lips in one of his wry smiles.

“You make fun of me, you’re terrible!” Eddie grumbles and still has tears in his eyes but he laughs and it seems an eternity that didn’t happen, that he didn’t laugh. “I have to go tell your sister you’re awake, I have to tell Christopher!” he says, and he already knows that Christopher will want to see him, but maybe it’s not the time yet, maybe Evan is too tired, but he asks him anyway. “Do you want to see Christopher?”.

And Evan lights up and moves his head very slowly in a tiny assent.

“So I’ll go now, huh? I’ll be right back, stay awake, will you? Did you understand? Don’t try anything, no funny business, Evan. You know I’m old and my heart doesn’t hold up this time.” he mutters bending over to give him another little kiss on the edge of his forehead before entrusting him to the doctor.

The doctor just smiles at him, in such a paternal way. And Eddie must definitely learn his name, at some point, months have passed and he still can’t associate his face with a name.

But it has other priorities now, definitely other priorities. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to call Maddie, can I get her here? With our son, he... he... can our son come here? Or is it too early? Surely Buck, Evan would like it...”.

“He definitely can,” the doctor says, smiling. “We continue with the last battery tests for now. And then I talk to the nurses, I guess you will stay here to keep him company in the next evenings,”.

Eddie nods vigorously, his eyes burning at the mere idea of having more time, more time to live with him. Time.

Before going, he takes another look at the bed. Evan still has his eyes open and still seems focused on him, and slowly waves his fingers as if to greet him. And Eddie feels the tears rise in his eyes as he waves back, what he does with Christopher, repeatedly closing his fingers of his right hand, before jumping into the corridor.

He repeats the road by heart and gradually his breath becomes shorter. He still has to carburate, he still has to understand, he still has to actually assimilate that information.

And every step he thinks and rethinks, that they were giving up on him, that they were letting him go, that they were throwing in the towel. And Evan who is so stubborn, tenacious, a fighter and has some pretty hard bark on him, has surprised them once again.

And his heart becomes small in his chest.

He wipes his tears again, which seem to not want to stop gushing, before reaching the waiting room.

“Eddie!” Maddie still has Christopher in her arms, and his son is still clutching the book to his chest.

“Hey!” he mumbles, sniffing, but smiling. And he bends down to reach for Christopher, without doing much if not spreading his arms and waiting for his kid to hug him.

“The others are coming soon, I also called your abuela and Josephina, and Carla... I don’t know how we want to organize this and...” Maddie starts to say.

Eddie holds Christopher tight against him and then reaches out to hug Maddie. “He hasn’t collapsed. It wasn’t a collapse. It scared us a lot but...” Eddie murmurs.

Maddie shakes her head. “Eddie he...”.

“He woke up, Maddie. He woke up... it wasn’t a collapse he just started breathing on his own... he is awake. A little confused and battered... and he doesn’t speak but... he moves, he is awake and opens his eyes and he recognized me and..." he continues to say and looks at Christopher who has not made a sound.

“Like Captain America,” Christopher murmurs with his eyes big and sparkly. “Can I see him?”.

“Of course, when I told him I was going to pick you up he was so happy!” he says and caresses his son’s face and takes the crutches with one arm but leaves everything else there, the rest of his gear, all there on that armchair in a waiting room.

And she hears Maddie sobbing.

“Come on, huh? We warn the others afterwards, he is having a bit of a hard time staying awake and... he is all grumpy...” Eddie continues to say.

And Maddie reaches out to take Christopher’s crutches and retrieves her bag and says nothing but wipe away the tears.

“Buck is always cranky when he’s sick,” says Chris, tightening his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Oh, yeah, it’s true,” Maddie scoffs and sobs altogether, doing to retrieve Eddie’s things.

“Come on, don’t think about it, I don’t care about that stuff, we have other priorities." he says and stretches out to her his free hand.

And they set off down the corridor, all the energy he seemed to have lost is in every fibre of him again, now that he is rushing towards Evan’s new room.

Eddie stops a few steps from what he remembers to be Buck’s room, there is still that cloud of doctors who are in there to visit him.

“So he can’t really speak now, he does some sounds but…” he says to Christopher, but he says so for himself to remember. “It’s like when we have a sore throat and we make those weird sounds... he does something like that” he mutters. “But he understands everything, I told you he heard us, when we talked to him, do you remember it?” he waits for his son to nod before continuing, with a small fond smile. “I’m sure he heard you read and can’t wait to hear how the book ends”.

“Can I read it to him when─when he gets better?” Christopher asks, his eyes sparkling and a bright little smirk curving his lips.

“Sure! You can read this and many others to him, he knows that you have become super good at reading aloud!” adds Eddie and glances at Maddie.

And she takes another choked breath between her teeth. “Eddie I…”.

“Let’s not talk about it now.” he replies categorically. “Let’s go in. Then we organize the shifts, as always”.

And when they enter Buck is busy pushing this doctor’s hand with one foot, his bad leg flexed in this unnatural way and he seems really stressed by this situation, his tongue between his gritted teeth and his expression contracted. He grunts what appears to be a feeble smear and then relaxes completely in bed.

“Enough,” decides the doctor. “Enough for now, let’s continue later. There are visits for you.” he mumbles and gestures to the other doctors to go out, and moves near Eddie and Maddie “I spoke with the nurses, and we moved his things here, I’m sure we can paper the room with all the drawings of this young man, mh?” he adds, reaching out to caress Christopher’s back. “Don’t tire him, huh?” it’s his last recommendation before going out.

And Maddie hurries to release Eddie’s hand and reach for the bed. Leaving her bag and Chris’s crutches on near the box with his things, placed on a tiny table. “Hi!” she says, slowly, the breath that is louder than her voice and reaches out to gather Evan’s face and he seems so small, so thin now that Eddie looks at him with his eyes always veiled by an emotion, a great unnamed sentiment.

There are strangled sounds, those of Evan’s throat all parched and battered by the endotracheal tube.

Maddie sits on the bed and takes his hand and when he squeezes her slowly, and closes his eyes and smiles, a sob escapes her lips.

“He made us a surprise, right Maddie?” Eddie mumbles, deciding to stay there a moment longer and give the two of them that extra minute, that moment of intimacy.

But she looks up and reaches out to Eddie, and gestures for him to come closer. And when he enters Evan’s field of vision, Evan smiles and slowly extends his arm too.

“Bucky!” peeps Christopher.

“Hey now, slow okay? He is all battered, remember” Eddie warns softly, before bending over and placing her son on the bed.

And there was no need for that recommendation, because Chris slowly approaches his Bucky and reaches out only to gently caress his cheek. “It will be all right, kid.” he murmurs with a tiny fond smile.

And Buck gasps, and grasps Chris’s shirt to make him move closer and Christopher looks at Eddie with his wide, sparkling eyes, like asking for permission, as Eddie did with the doctor only a few minutes ago.

“Go ahead, kid” he says softly, and moves the chair to take a seat near the bed and support Christopher and hold Evan’s shoulder in his grasp.

So his son moves to snuggle in his Bucky side, leaning close but slowly, like Evan could break under his touch.

And Evan smiles, softly when all the three of them are around him touching him and he slowly closes his eyes.

“It will be all right,” Christopher reiterates looking at Eddie and Maddie with this big smile. “I told you daddy, that Buck is like Captain America”.

And Buck makes that sound again, what Eddie has understood by now that it’s a chuckle and he laughs too. “Oh you’re right, mijo. You always are, he’s a superhero”.

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

tagging @buckleystrand; @sparksfly-buddie; @chrrlees; @lieselfh; @themoonyloveenvy and whoever wants to be tagged!

#buddie fic #9 1 1 fic #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #heavy angst #angst with happy ending #this isn't your happy ending yet but we are so near! really!#hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #major character injury #lamalefixwrites #freaking long things #over 12k words #author.exe stopped working

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