Archive of Our Own

Eddie turned his truck off and leaned back against his seat, staring out the windshield at the station. It was a sunny day, starting to get into that summer heat, and he grimaced, turning the truck back on so he could have the AC as he got his thoughts together.

God. Fuck. Okay. Plan of action time.

It had been a month since the nightmare of New Mexico. Eddie was cleared for duty again. He was here to inform Chimney and the rest of the team and figure out when he’d be back.

And for another conversation.

He sighed and pushed his hands through his hair. Okay. He wasn’t a coward. He could do this.

Chim welcomed him immediately, clearly relieved to hear he was cleared to be back. Hen made fun of him for slacking, but also shared some of her rice from lunch with him, so he didn’t take it too personally. Harry greeted him with all smiles, and even Ravi seemed glad to hear he’d be back. It was nice, even if there was an elephant in the room, or more accurately, a missing elephant in the room that they were kind of avoiding the topic of.

Which was the other reason Eddie was here.

Before he could even start to talk, Ravi took Harry down to work on disassembling the chainsaws. Which kind of sucked for two reasons, one of which being Eddie kind of wanted Ravi’s input. Even if it came with a healthy dose of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ at least he knew Ravi would call them all out for being idiots.

The second reason was that Harry was unofficially Buck’s probie. None of them had really acknowledged it, but it had become so painfully clear over the past months since Harry had joined the 118. And Buck did a great job with him. He should be the one here, teaching Harry.

At least Ravi was doing it. He’d learned from Buck, too. Even if it included being chased by a chainsaw. Or whatever, Eddie still wasn’t actually sure what the story there was and he was kind of glad for that.

In any case, Eddie sat down with Hen and Chimney. A week ago, they’d talked him out of going and confronting Buck for blowing him off, which was probably the smarter move. But now it felt like Buck was almost avoiding him, and he wanted to know what they thought about it.

Chimney denied it, claiming that Buck wasn’t avoiding him in particular.

“You realize that sounds like he’s isolating himself, right?” Hen said, and Chimney made a face at her.

“He’s not,” he said. “We’re not letting him. But he’s, you know, he’s not really up for a lot of visitors right now.”

“But we’re family,” Eddie protested.

Hen gave him a look. “Family takes energy too. Trust me.”

Eddie winced. He wanted to argue with Hen, that her circumstances weren’t the same as Buck’s, but they weren’t really that different. Different causes, sure, but just as stressful. Plus, he remembered how fucking exhausting going through therapy was.

Except, “Is Buck going to therapy? Does anyone know?”

Hen shrugged. She looked at Chimney. Eddie followed suit.

He looked pained. “I should’ve never let you two be partners.”

“Like you could’ve stopped us,” Hen said. “What do you know?”

Chimney hesitated, then sighed.

“Don’t push for too much information,” he warned them. “I’m not breaking Buck’s trust.”

“He talked to you?” Eddie asked, feeling his eyes widen. He couldn’t help it; as far as he knew, no one had gotten information out of Buck, at all. Even he barely knew what had happened, and most of what he knew, he didn’t actually have confirmation for. He was just guessing based on what he had seen.

Like that the stun baton Buck had used on Earl was definitely used on Buck at some point. And Buck had been straight up combative when he’d woken up after drifting off in the hospital, so Eddie was sure they’d hurt him, even if he couldn’t tell what injuries were from the car accident and what was from them. And he’d been wearing different clothes that he’d never seen before, which made Eddie straight up nauseous.

“A bit,” Chimney said. “Not everything. But some of it.”

That was a fucking relief. “Good. That’s good.”

“It is,” Hen agreed, relief also visible on her face. “I’m glad he’s talking.”

“Never thought I’d miss the grief assessments,” Eddie said.

For some reason, that made Chimney wince. Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chimney said.

“We’re gonna worry about it,” Hen said.

Chimney shifted uncomfortably. Then he seemed to find his resolve, and kind of straightened up. Like he was putting the captain hat on or something.

“Buck felt that we’ve been shutting him out,” he said. “And he’s not totally wrong.”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but Chimney held his hand up.

“I’m not saying we did it on purpose,” he said. “I’m just - have you noticed anything while he’s been hurt? Anything he was doing that he isn’t doing now?”

Hen immediately looked guilty. “Maybe.”

Eddie glanced between them. “I’ve been hurt, too, so my normal routine is a little fucked right now. What are you talking about?”

Chimney shrugged a shoulder. “He really was kind of always around, like in the background, before you guys went to Nashville. And honestly, before all of this, I don’t think I noticed, like, at all. But now we haven’t been able to tag him in for Jee’s pick up, and he hasn’t been cooking, which I didn’t even realize he would drop meals off so often, and Jee’s upset that she hasn’t had his muffins for breakfast.”

He sighed. “And apparently Nash’s favorite biscuits were a specialty of his. Maddie has the recipe, but we haven’t succeeded at making them once, despite trying four times, and we don’t know why. And I’m not even mentioning the things he does around the station that I genuinely didn’t realize was him the entire time. Not just with Harry’s training.”

Eddie stared at him. Okay, one could write that off as Buck being a good brother and uncle, and a good firefighter - both of which were true - but now Eddie was remembering how when Chris came back from El Paso with him, he’d tried not to ask Buck or anybody really for help. And it’d lasted maybe a month before he caved. And Buck had been helping Pepa, he knew, especially since Abuela had passed, because she’d mentioned recently how much she’d appreciated it.

“So,” Chimney said. “Yeah. And I’m not saying to suddenly swarm him, because he’d outright lose his shit if we tried that, especially since his parents are making noises about checking on him, but just. He was trying with the grief assessments. To get us talking. Okay? So just. Do that for him.”

He lost his captain stance as he finished, melting into something almost exhausted. Eddie studied him.

“Okay,” Hen said softly. “Karen’s been sending food over.”

“Yeah, Buck said,” Chimney said. “I think he said thanks to her, but tell her Maddie and I also say thanks.”

“Is he going to therapy?” Eddie asked. “You threatened me into therapy.”

Threatened was a strong word to use, considering Chim’s threat had been ‘So help me God if you don’t talk to a therapist I’ll fill your truck with bubble bath and let Jee go nuts with the hose’ but Eddie still couldn’t figure out how serious he had been and hadn’t really put it past him.

He’d been three times already and had another appointment tomorrow. It was helping, much to his annoyance. Then again, not having nightmares of finding Buck with a bullethole in his forehead, or whatever else his psyche was trying to torture him with was a luxury he’d apparently taken for granted, so he was dealing.

“Yes,” Chimney said. “He is. I’m not saying anything more about that. Don’t push me. I will just scream. Jee came by her lung capacity honestly.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. Hen snorted.

“Maybe I’ll try to can come over after shift tomorrow,” she said. “If he’s up for it.”

“He might not be,” Chimney warned. “You should text first.”

“I will,” Hen said. Eddie reached into his pocket and touched his own phone.

Well, he’d wanted a plan of action.

The tones went off not long after that, so he wished them luck and went down to his truck again, cursing the heat as he did so. He turned his car on for the AC and looked at his phone.

He’d texted Buck since they’d gotten back, mostly just checking in on him, but he found himself scrolling back to the texts he’d sent that day. He didn’t know if Buck ever got them, but he could still feel the adrenaline going through him as he looked at them.

He’d known, before he’d even sent that first text, that something was deeply wrong. Buck didn’t leave people behind if he could help it. He knew that. He’d had plenty of fucking evidence of that. He still had a son because of that. He was still alive because of that. So Buck not being there, especially after they’d been ran off the road on purpose? Yeah. He hadn’t been expecting responses to his texts.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and scrolled through the texts since then. Him making sure Buck was taking his meds. Buck asking how Chris was doing. Him asking how Buck’s appointments went. Buck sending him a picture of Jee.

He’d been reaching out. But now that he was reading them, Buck hadn’t really been answering his questions. Just one worded responses like, “Fine,” and “Okay,” and one, “Tired.” Then he’d ask a question, changing the subject. It was so obvious now that he was looking at it.

Jesus, he didn’t just fall for it once, he’d been falling for it every fucking time.

Eddie scowled, frustrated. Why didn’t Buck just talk to him? He was there, he didn’t know the specifics but he knew more than everybody.

Except Chimney, now.

…..Fuck, that wasn’t fair. It was a good thing Chimney knew more. Did Eddie wish he was the one Buck could talk to? Sure. But it was really, really good that he was talking to anybody.

He was being stupid, and if he showed up at Buck’s house like this he’d just make everything worse. He needed to calm the fuck down first.

Eddie put his phone down and put the truck in reverse, pulling out of his parking spot. He turned the AC down and then lowered the windows despite the heat, because he wanted the wind. It was soothing, and by the time he’d pulled up to Buck’s favorite burger place, he was feeling much more settled.

Anger wise, at least. He was distinctly unsettled about the rest of the situation.

He parked, because the drive thru was so long he was absolutely positive he’d lose his mind, and before getting out of his car, shot off a text to Buck.

Eddie: can I come over? I’m picking up Bruces, want anything?

He was standing inside, waiting in a line that was definitely going to try his patience, when his phone vibrated.

Buck: sure

Okay, still a one worded answer, but promising. He waited a minute, to see if there was a follow up. When there wasn’t, he sent another message.

Eddie: want anything specific?

Buck had his favorite meals, his usual orders, but he did often get something new if it called to him. Which was to say Eddie had learned to check first before ordering, just in case. For a while, Chris had started doing the same thing, which had been strange considering the kid was a much pickier eater than Buck.

His phone went off when he was the next person in line. He looked down at it.

Buck: whatever

Alright, not great, still one word, but at least a response.

He ordered their usuals, but got Buck a caramel apple smoothie. He had no idea why, but he hoped Buck liked it. Or at least thought it was interesting. Then he decided fuck it, get one for himself, too.

He was getting back into his truck with the food and drinks in hand when his phone went off again. He had to wait until everything was situated before he could look at it, and when he did, it was another text from Buck.

Buck: thanks, Eddie

Two words! Progress. Eddie was unreasonably happy. Buck was the kind of person who would often send two to seven texts in a row. He hadn’t done it for a while, so even though he was sure this conversation was going to suck, he was even more determined.

Eddie: no problem. on my way

That sent, he got on the road. He really wanted to get that smoothie to Buck before it melted too much.

The traffic wasn’t bad, although some dumbass had decided to reverse out of a turning lane and nearly hit another car. Eddie watched, but thankfully no one got hit, and he was able to keep driving.

The smoothies were still cold when he pulled up outside Buck’s house. Success.

He jumped out and grabbed the bag of food and the drinks, carefully closing the door. He looked towards the house and saw one of the curtains move, so he assumed that meant Buck knew he was here.

Sure enough, when he made it to the door, it opened.

Buck looked like shit, there was really no other way to put it. It wasn’t even his injuries, although the cut over his eyebrow was still healing. He looked wrung out. His face was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes, almost bruise-like again. It didn’t look like he’d shaved in a few days. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it or something and hadn’t brushed it afterwards. He was in an old short-sleeved shirts that said Army across the front - definitely Tommy’s, then - and sweats.

Worst of all, his posture just screamed that he was about to break. He didn’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“Chim send you?” Buck asked, his voice rough as he moved to let Eddie into the house. He didn’t slam the door closed behind him, but it was a close thing. Then he locked it, and checked twice that he’d actually locked it.

Eddie frowned. “No. Should he have?”

Buck looked faintly surprised. Very, very faintly. Jesus Christ. “Oh. No. I just, he knew I had therapy today so I figured…”

Eddie blinked. “Oh, shit, man. No, he said you were going to therapy but he definitely didn’t say you had it today.”

Buck looked at him, then down at the food in his hands. Despite there being almost no expression on his face, he still gave off the air of someone who did not believe what he was hearing.

“Sorry, man, I should’ve asked,” Eddie said, because fuck knew he hated company after therapy. He’d deal with it, and honestly Buck and Chris had really been the only people he’d been okay with dealing with when it was real bad. But that did not mean Buck wanted company.

“You did ask,” Buck said. “I said you could come. It’s fine.”

He took the bag out of Eddie’s hand and went towards the table. Eddie followed, looking around while Buck couldn’t see.

He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe an explosion of bakery items. Broken things. Some signs that the house had a person living in it dealing with a terrible trauma, whatever that might look like. He remembered Buck refusing to get out of bed before the tsunami. Something like that.

There was nothing. The house was clean. Too clean, which was probably the sign he was looking for. Even the windows were all spotless. The windows at the back of the house had all their curtains open, though, and it made the kitchen and dining area warm in a cozy kind of way. He saw a bird feeder through one of the windows that hadn’t been there the last time Eddie had come over.

Buck put the bag down on the table, then sat down. Eddie joined him, pushing the smoothie over to him.

“I got you your usual food, but this is a caramel apple smoothie,” he said. “It sounded interesting.”

Buck peered at it. Something passed over his face, but Eddie could not tell what.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the straw that Eddie held out. He did stick the straw in and cautiously take a sip, so Eddie got busy distributing the food, keeping an eye on Buck. He seemed to like the smoothie, taking a deeper drink. Eddie felt victorious, and put a straw in his own smoothie.

It was very sweet, and the cold was refreshing. Caramel apples weren’t really Eddie’s thing, but it was pretty good. Eddie was pretty sure Chris would love it. He made a mental note to get one for him at some point.

Buck wasn’t eating yet, fiddling with the straw wrapper. Eddie decided not to push it for a moment, opening his own burger box. He kept an eye while pretending he wasn’t, pretending to be absorbed in his own burger. It took a bit, but Buck eventually opened his own burger and started taking bites. He was eating slowly, but did keep taking sips of the smoothie.

There was a fragile kind of peace settling over them. Eddie didn't want to break it, even as nervous as he was. Their shared mealtimes were almost never this quiet, unless they were both hungry and tired from shifts or something.

There was one obvious exception, that being the drive back from New Mexico. Buck had tried to keep up a mask or something for the first few hours, but somewhere around their third stop for him to walk, he'd retreated so far into his head he'd just stopped responding to Eddie at all. Around hour six and yet another stop, Eddie had pulled over to a rest area and Buck didn’t notice. He also didn't notice Eddie getting out of the car, opening the passenger door, and saying his name several times until he was gently placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder.

He'd had to take a quick step backwards, because Buck had come out of the trance swinging. He'd gotten caught by his seatbelt and his broken ribs, but none of that had hidden the sheer terror on Buck’s face for that first few seconds.

He hadn't said a word even after that until they were pulling up outside of Chim and Maddie’s house, and even that had just been Maddie’s name.

So Eddie wasn't too surprised at the silence, and he wasn't going to break it, but he was a bit on edge.

Buck ate the whole burger. He also finished the smoothie. Small victories, but Eddie would take them.

“So,” Buck finally broke the silence. Eddie blinked.

“So?” he prompted.

Buck glanced at him. “Are you here to check up on me?”

“Yes,” Eddie didn't see the point in lying. “And also to apologize.”

That seemed to catch Buck off guard. “What? For what?”

“Last week,” Eddie said. “The game night. Remember? I let you talk me out of staying the night with you?”

Buck blinked. Eddie stared back, waiting for it to click, but it didn't seem to ring a bell.

“What, your social schedule is so full you don't remember?” he said.

Then he winced. “Wait, hang on. That came out wrong. I meant - I don't know what I meant.”

Buck was staring at him like he'd grown another head. Eddie was starting to feel like an idiot.

“Look, I should’ve known better, is all I'm saying,” he said.

“Are you apologizing for leaving when I wanted you to leave?” Buck asked. Eddie didn't even think he was being facetious.

“Um, no,” he said. “I was apologizing for leaving you alone when someone should've been here with you.”

Buck's face twitched, but whatever it was, he seemed to shove away, because it smoothed out immediately. “It's really okay, Eddie. I don't need a babysitter.”

Goddammit, Eddie was fucking this up. “I didn't mean that, either.”

“Then what did you mean?” Buck asked. He sounded so fucking tired, like he didn’t really care about the answer. It scared Eddie. Even after the fucking tsunami, there'd been more animation in his face.

Buck had big feelings. He always had. So to see literally nothing on his face except exhaustion was terrifying.

He should’ve brought back up with him. Who, he didn't know, but someone else should’ve been there for when he fucked this up. He was making this worse.

“I meant,” he started, then sighed. “I don't know, man. Just. Don't shut us out. Please. You know I'm not the best at this, but I'm trying. I want to help.”

“You did,” Buck said. “You showed up.”

“Not enough, apparently,” Eddie said. “Which is on me, not you.”

God, he sucked at this.

“Not today,” Buck said. “Then. At the house.”

Eddie tilted his head. “What? Of course I did, you thought we'd just leave you out to dry?”

“Uh, no, I thought you were dead,” Buck said flatly. Eddie flinched.

“Oh,” he said, stupidly.

“And then I thought she shot you,” Buck said. “But she didn't, and you were okay, and now we're both okay.”

Eddie wondered if Buck realized how not okay he sounded. It didn't even sound like he was trying to fool Eddie, so maybe he did. Was he hoping Eddie would just pretend? He wasn’t going to do that.

“Sure,” Eddie said. Then he swallowed, and said, “I thought you were dead, too.”

Buck looked at him, finally meeting his eyes. He didn't say anything.

“The nurse said I was alone in the car when they found me and I thought you were dead and they just didn't want to tell me when I was injured,” Eddie said. Which he was aware was not logical thinking, but he’d been disoriented, so. “And the sheriff was a dick and he thought I'd murdered you.”

Buck's eyes actually widened at that. It was the first real bit of emotion he'd shown. Eddie kind of wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Yeah,” he said. “That's why Athena told me to break out of the hospital. You know I think she was the one who was most convinced you were alive.”

“Maddie said,” Buck muttered. “She, uh, said that Athena told her what she'd told me. With Doug.”

Eddie wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he could guess. “Well. She never doubted. At least not when she was talking to me.”

Buck shifted his weight, but didn't say anything. He was still looking at Eddie, though, so it felt like progress.

“It sucked, man,” Eddie said. “Obviously not as bad as what was happening to you, just. It sucked.”

Buck just watched him. Eddie was starting to get really worried. He wasn’t sure exactly what Buck was waiting for. Hoping for?

“I almost didn't see the truck,” he admitted, even though he'd told himself he would never ever tell Buck that. He hadn't even mentioned it to Maddie. Only Chimney and Athena knew. And Frank.

It felt important to say.

Buck still didn't say anything. His eyes were still focused, still present, though, so Eddie decided to keep talking.

“I fell for her act,” he said. “I'm sorry for that. I only looked over my shoulder because I saw some weird shape, it was the tarp. If I hadn't looked, hadn't seen it -.”

He probably wouldn't have found Buck. He had no idea what they were doing to Buck before that, still wasn't entirely sure where Buck had come from.

“She would've killed you,” Buck said. “She wanted to. She was mad you weren't already dead.”

His voice was dull and certain. Eddie hated it.

“She tried anyway,” he said.

Buck shook his head. “We were in the shed. The shotgun was right there.”

Eddie didn't like that, either. But now something else was bothering him.

“Why didn't she?” he asked.

Because Buck was absolutely certain of what he was saying. But Bonnie had come up and played nice with him. And Buck had heard Eddie, so Eddie would've heard Buck if he'd yelled.

Buck looked away, which kind of answered Eddie’s question.

“You bargained with her,” he said. He didn't need confirmation. Buck didn't give it, still looking away, but he knew.

Jesus fucking Christ. If Eddie hadn't seen that truck he never would've seen Buck again, he was sure of it.

He was going to throw up.

“Why?” he said.

“Chris,” Buck said, still not looking at him.

Goddamnit. Of course.

“Don't do that ever again,” Eddie said.

Buck blinked, but didn't look at him.

“Don't,” he said. “You're not a sacrifice, Buck, not for me or anybody. Goddamnit, you only shocked Earl because he was coming after me, didn't you?”

“I'd tried to escape twice before that,” Buck said. There was some kind of emotion in his tone, but Eddie couldn't identify it. “I was dead, Eddie, she was going to kill me. She had the gun ready, okay, I couldn't do anything.”

Buck moved his hands up to his temples, like he was trying to get rid of a headache. “I did what I could, because I knew they'd sympathize with a kid losing his dad, and I'm not sorry. I was dead anyway, you saw me, I couldn't have gotten away on my own.”

Yeah, he had seen Buck. It had felt like a fucking miracle when he seen Buck. Even as beat up as he'd been, because he was alive. Beat up, worse off than Eddie, but alive. Not dead in a ditch somewhere, or any of the other horrible things Eddie hadn't been able to stop himself from imagining.

Buck was probably right. They'd been in the middle of fucking nowhere, and as it was he'd collapsed in front of Eddie, with a sheriff to call in paramedics. If he'd been on his own when that happened, or if the fever had gotten worse, he would've been in danger.

But he'd still tried to escape. Buck might not see it the same way, but he'd tried. That meant something.

“Maybe not,” Eddie said. Buck was still holding his temples, not looking at Eddie. “Maybe you would've died. Maybe I would have found you. Maybe, maybe a hundred things, Buck, but you didn’t die. You kept yourself alive.”

“Barely,” Buck said. “Jesus, Eddie, you don’t even fucking know -.”

He cut himself off, mouth twisting. There was something like fear in his eyes.

“No, I don’t,” Eddie said, heart starting to pound. “So tell me.”

Buck shook his head and stood up. “I can’t. Don’t - don’t.”

He stumbled a few steps away.

“Buck,” Eddie said, standing up, too. Buck moved his hands, holding one over his mouth like he was going to throw up. Eddie glanced around, hoping there was a trash can or something nearby, but everything was neatly put away. He moved towards one of the cabinets, but before he even got a step, he heard Buck make a different sound.

A sob.

Eddie spun back around. Buck was bent over, shoulders shaking, mouth still tightly covered. His eyes were squeezed closed. He looked like he was in physical pain.

“Buck,” Eddie said softly. Buck twitched, but didn’t look at him. “Hey. You still with me?”

In one of his paramedic classes, they’d had to review de-escalation techniques. Eddie had scoffed at it, figuring he knew it already, but had done the work anyway, because he really did want to be a paramedic. It’d been good for him, though, and he used the things he’d learned several times in the field, and had started to notice how Chim, Hen, and even Buck used them, too.

Which was great and all, except right now, now that it was Buck, his mind was going blank. Buck had gone from a completely blank state to full panic attack, and Eddie was really struggling to keep himself from freaking out.

“Hey,” he said, because Buck hadn’t acknowledged his question at all, which was probably a bad thing. “Hey, I’m going to move a bit closer, okay?”

Nothing. Eddie took the slowest step forward, making sure to make noise.

It was the wrong move. Buck flinched away from him, but was already off balance, and ended up falling. He scrambled backward until he hit the wall, breathing heavily. His eyes were moving wildly, but it didn’t look like he was taking anything in.

Oh, this wasn’t just a panic attack. No, Eddie knew what was happening. This was PTSD.

Fuck. Eddie didn’t move, except to make his hands visible, though Buck wasn’t really looking anywhere near him. He didn’t want to make this worse.

He thought of the vet in the store, the one he’d talked down with Alex. Trapped somewhere else in his mind, convinced he was in danger. There was no gun now, but somehow this felt worse anyway.

“Buck,” he said, because he had to do fucking something. “Can you hear me? You’re in your kitchen. We just had Bruce’s. Okay? You’re not there, you’re not with them.”

Buck’s eyes found him, but whether he actually saw Eddie was a completely different thing.

“Hey,” Eddie said anyway. “Hey. I know. You think they’re gonna hurt you, or me. They’re not. Bonnie, and Earl, they’re in jail, in New Mexico, and Athena’s hellbent on making sure they rot in there. Okay? We’re in Los Angeles. In your house.”

He took a chance and crouched down. Fuck, Buck had done this for him more than once, and while Eddie had been able to tell he was scared, he’d never realized how easy Buck had made it look.

“Eddie,” Buck choked out.

“They’re not here,” Eddie said. “They’re not here, Buck, look,” he gestured towards the windows. Buck’s eyes followed where he pointed. “See the curtains? The birdfeeder? They’re yours. Can you see the fridge from that angle? There’s a picture of Jee and Nash there. And that weird magnet that kid you saved last year gave you, the one that you say is a whale but it looks more like a cucumber to me.”

Buck’s eyes were locked on the fridge, so Eddie went a step further and sat down.

“You know,” he said. “When you talked me down, that first time, I had a fucking bat. How the hell did you do that, because this is awful.”

“You - what,” Buck clearly had not followed his train of thought, which made sense. Eddie was truly a dumbass.

“When I smashed my room with a bat,” he said. “Because of the PTSD. I remember, I didn’t want to give up the bat. I don’t know what you were thinking, but I remember thinking that it was fucking crazy.”

“You weren’t…trying to hurt me,” Buck said, and he closed his eyes, putting his head back on the wall behind him. His breathing was way too fast, and he was too pale.

“Still,” Eddie said. “Did I ever say thank you for that?”

Buck opened one eye and narrowed it at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Eddie asked, genuinely caught off guard.

“I don’t want, that, the way people get, when someone’s upset,” Buck said. “Don’t thank me now, it’s stupid, I don’t want it, and it feels patronizing now.”

There was a bitter note to his tone. Eddie blinked.

“I’m not being patronizing,” he said. “I meant it. I didn’t realize what it was probably like.”

“This is not the same thing,” Buck said, closing his eye again.

“Sure,” Eddie said. “You don’t have a bat.”

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Buck said.

Eddie frowned. “You think you don’t have PTSD?”

“I don’t need babying,” Buck said, rather than answer his question.

What. It felt like they were having two different conversations. “I didn’t say you did?”

“I’ll suck it up,” Buck said. He was clenching both of his fists, shaking like a leaf. He was still breathing too quickly, and if he didn’t calm down, it’d turn to hyperventilation. Considering how pale he already was, Eddie didn’t like any of this. “I’m not your problem, Eddie.”

“No one said you were,” Eddie said. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not thinking it, too,” Buck said, which sounded insane until he followed it up with, “It’s just act 99, I’ll get over it.”

Oh. Oh, Eddie was a complete and total dumbass.

That moment, in the kitchen, when he’d been so angry and filled with grief and had nowhere to aim it, he’d put it all on Buck. And he was an idiot for it, and he knew that, which was why he’d bribed Chris to coming to L.A. It’d been a bit of a battle to convince Chris, but in the end, he’d come.

Eddie had seen how happy Buck was to see Chris. And he’d kind of. Forgotten about the rest of it.

Buck had never said anything, but he apparently had not forgotten.

Eddie was going to hell and he was going to deserve it.

“Buck,” he said, a bit helplessly. Because the thing was, he couldn’t say he hadn’t meant it. In the moment, he had meant it, because he’d been caught up in his own fucking head, and Buck had been an easy target. And Buck’s grief was so loud, even when he wasn’t saying anything, and Eddie wasn’t handling his own. He couldn’t even handle Chris’! His own son’s! And he’d been in the house with Buck, and Buck wanted to talk about it and Eddie couldn’t.

And that had gotten Buck to stop talking about it. Which Eddie sort of knew was probably not a good thing, but Buck never said anything.

Which. Was clearly part of the problem here.

“Okay,” he finally said, making himself look at Buck. “Okay. Buck. I - you’re not going to want to hear this now, but I’m saying it anyway. I was wrong. I wasn’t handling my own bullshit and I couldn’t take anything else on. Which is stupid, and I should’ve just told you I needed space instead of yelling at you.”

He winced, because that wasn’t all he’d done. “And backing you into a corner. I’m - I am sorry.”

Buck didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t move from where he was leaning his head back. But his fists relaxed, a bit.

“It was stupid to say that to you,” Eddie said. “I was - fuck, I was mad that I wasn’t there, and I don’t actually think I could’ve done anything different, I never really did, but I could’ve been there at least. But that wasn’t your fault, and - of course you did what you could for Bobby. Just like you did for Chris. I knew that. I know that.”

“And,” he said, even though Buck still hadn’t moved from his position, “even if what I said was true - which it wasn’t, none of it - but even if it was, it’s not like being kidnapped is something that shouldn’t be all about you. Jesus, dude, if ever there were a time for you to be selfish about your feelings it’d be now. I don’t even think that’s selfish, that’s just being human.”

He was going to have to have a really long talk with himself. And Frank. Probably several. Maybe with a priest, at this point. Where was the juice bar guy when Eddie needed him?

“Seriously,” he said. “If you want to, I don’t know, scream, or yell, or take a bat to a wall or something I’m not gonna judge you.”

Buck opened one eye again, this time so Eddie could clearly see him roll it. Eddie rolled his own eyes back.

“Alright, it was just a suggestion,” he said. “I am sorry. I’m not just saying it because of what’s happening. I should’ve apologized months ago.”

He really did not understand how Buck had just been helping him if this had been in the back of his head the whole time. Maybe that was why Buck had been so quick to help him when he’d asked?

Jesus, was this why Buck had moved out without even fighting?

Eddie was the worst.

Which was something to work on with his therapist, at a time when his best friend wasn’t still on the verge of hyperventilating.

“How you doing now?” he asked.

“I feel like shit,” Buck said, eyes closed again. “Can you - in the cabinet, next to the microwave. Just some ibuprofen.”

“Headache?” Eddie asked sympathetically, getting to his feet.

“And ribs,” Buck said.

Eddie winced. “Yeah.”

He opened the cabinet. Buck had organized the medicines in it so meticulously that it wasn’t hard to find the ibuprofen.

He also noticed, front and center, an orange bottle labeled ‘Zoloft.’

Made sense. He didn’t say anything, closing the cabinet. He handed the bottle of ibuprofen off to Buck and went to get him a glass of water. He handed that to Buck and took the bottle back, moving to put it back.

Then he settled back down on the floor. Buck was doing breathing exercises, the kinds you did for broken ribs, which was helping slow his breathing, too.

Eddie didn’t say anything, letting Buck breathe. It wasn’t until Buck opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling that he cleared his throat.

Buck looked at him warily.

“So,” Eddie said. “Is that Tommy’s shirt?”

Buck seemed so genuinely thrown at the question that he actually gaped at Eddie for a moment. It was kind of amazing. Then he looked down at his shirt.

“Oh,” he said. “Um. Looks like it.”

“Interesting,” Eddie said. “He texted me asking if I was okay. I was kind of surprised, but now I get it. I’m guessing he’s done more than that for you.”

Buck rolled his eyes again, but didn’t deny it.

“That’s good,” Eddie said. “Good. You need all the people you can get.”

“Okay?” Buck didn’t seem to know what to do with that. To be honest, Eddie wasn’t entirely sure either.

“I should probably apologize to him, too,” he said.

“You should,” Buck said. It felt pointed, and was kind of deserved. “He’s helping.”

“Good,” Eddie said, meaning it. “I’ll call him later. Or wait, he’s probably on shift, huh? Is he still A shift? I’ll text him.”

“Eddie?” Buck said.

“Buck?” Eddie said, looking at him.

“Thanks,” Buck said.

“Um,” Eddie said. “No problem. But for what?”

So help him, if Buck was thanking him for apologizing to Tommy, or sitting with him while he had a panic attack, he was going to - he didn’t know what he was going to do but it would be dramatic. He’d been friends with Buck and Chimney long enough and Chris was plenty dramatic, plus he had two younger sisters, he’d learned how to be dramatic from the best.

“For showing up,” Buck said. “Then and today.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “You’re welcome. Please don’t ever thank me for then again, though.”

It made his skin crawl, the idea of Buck thanking him for looking for him and getting lucky enough to show up and notice before it was too late. Buck definitely did not owe him for that, at all. Especially considering how close he came to leaving.

Buck raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, closing his eyes again. “Fuck. I’m so tired.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Eddie said dryly.

“Shut up,” Buck said. “Help me up, please.”

Eddie snorted, but got to his feet and pulled Buck to his feet, though really Buck did a majority of the work. Which was good, because it showed how his ribs were healing nicely. He did keep a hand on Buck’s arm until he was sure Buck was steady, which got him another eye roll.

“You don’t have to leave,” Buck said. “But I’m taking a nap.”

“You’re sure you won’t get startled?” Eddie asked.

Buck shrugged. “I probably will. But it’s better when someone’s here, someone I know.”

Someone he could trust. Eddie could see what he meant.

“Okay,” Eddie said. “Sure. Uh, I’d ask if there was any cleaning that needed done but that seems like a futile question.”

Buck made a face. “You don’t need to do anything. I’m gonna be in living room, though.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Does your bed bother your ribs?”

“No,” Buck said, but didn’t elaborate. Eddie decided to not ask.

“Are you okay if I watch a movie in the living room with you?” he asked instead.

“Sure,” Buck said.

“Great,” Eddie said, and followed Buck to the living room. It was clear that he’d been sleeping on the couch for a while, because there was a blanket and several pillows. Buck half-collapsed onto it, putting an arm over his eyes. Eddie raised an eyebrow, but sat down across from him, reaching for the remote. He wasn’t really interesting in watching anything specific, so he just turned on a nature documentary and slumped back, getting comfortable.

Buck’s breathing evened out after a few minutes, and Eddie peeked to make sure he was actually sleeping. He was, face slack, looking actually relaxed for the first time in a while. Eddie let out a long, relieved breath, setting back on the chair.

And if he ended up also falling asleep and woke up three hours later to Buck throwing a pillow at him, well. It wasn’t his fault Buck’s living was so cozy.