Work Text:
Buck can’t look at them.
He was in the loft at the firehouse, sat on the couch, trying to look as invisible as he possibly could. He sat frozen, not moving a single muscle, with his shoulders curled inwards in a way that made him look small.
Only thirty minutes ago, he came clean to Chimney about everything. About the painkillers, the doctor shopping, almost stealing meds right off the rig. He knew if he kept his secret any longer that someone, not just him, was going to get hurt or worse.
Chim was shocked, of course, but Buck was surprised at how supportive he was too. He figured Chimney, as his captain, would fire him immediately and he’d never work as a firefighter again.
But, no. Chimney offered words of encouragement and support and Buck couldn’t have held back his tears if he tried. He’d gotten the biggest, tightest hug from his captain and brother-in-law, who reassured him that he wasn’t alone and would never be.
But now, he was telling the rest of them. Their family. The rest of the 118.
Hen, Ravi, Harry, Eddie.
Eddie, who tried digging through the front Buck had been putting on for over a month now. Eddie, who had pushed him to go to therapy, to talk to someone. Eddie, who came over for dinner at least once a week with Chris and offered his own ears to listen and shoulders to cry on.
Eddie, who Buck continued to lie to every time he asked how he was doing.
Chimney had called the four of them up to the loft after Buck gave him the green light to tell them. They all sat at the dining table. Chimney sat at the head of the table, speaking softly to them, letting them know what was going on.
Buck couldn’t bear to look at them. He kept his chin dropped to his chest and his shoulders hunched in. He kept his eyes open, staring straight down at his shoes. The laces were loose on his boots and he itched to lean down to tighten them, but doing that meant moving and moving meant being visible and he was trying really hard not to be right now.
He didn’t want to see their faces. Their looks of anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Sadness.
Their looks of disappointment.
That would hurt the worst, even if he understood it. And he would. He would understand their disappointment, because he was disappointed with himself. But he couldn’t see it on their faces. Not now. Not yet. Not when he felt so vulnerable, so raw, like an open wound.
Buck wasn’t really sure how he got here, if he’s being honest. The last five weeks have gone by in a haze and that’s probably because he’s spent more than half of it on painkillers, but he’s not sure how any of them will ever trust him again.
He’s supposed to be a role model to the younger firefighters. To Harry and Ravi. For fucks sake, he trained both of them. When Ravi was a probationary firefighter, Buck did everything he could to lead by example. Doing things the right way, not cutting corners, going above and beyond for the good of the citizens of Los Angeles.
And with Harry, he was like a mentor for him. Training him for the fire academy interview and physical, helping him through the academy, taking him under his wing.
How could he be a role model now? How could they ever look up to him again when he let himself slip so far?
Hen and Eddie would surely lose all respect for him. He’d worked with them side by side for the better part of a decade, and yes, they’ve had their ups and downs. But how does he come back from this? He was literally about to steal medication from their rig. If it wasn’t for the tones, he’s pretty certain he would have pocketed that fentanyl. He could’ve gotten them both in serious trouble, Eddie especially since he was the one stocking the medication at the time, if he’d actually gone through with his actions.
And Chimney. His first year of captaincy and Buck does this. He becomes dependent on painkillers and forces Chimney into a corner. Fire Buck from his position at the 118 or risk his own career by keeping it quiet for the sake of his brother-in-law?
How many fuck-ups was one person allowed before everyone else decided they'd had enough?
Buck feels his eyes grow wet again as his thoughts race through his brain. He blinks rapidly, trying to force the tears back.
He hurts. Everywhere, there’s pain. His head is pounding. His stomach is rolling with nausea from both the withdrawal and his nerves. His blood feels like it’s boiling underneath his skin, yet he shivers as chills course down the length of his spine.
A chair suddenly scrapes across the floor as it’s pushed out from the table. Buck flinches at the noise. From the corner of his vision, he sees Hen standing and turning towards him.
This is it. This is the moment he starts to lose them. She’s going to give him such a disappointed look and breeze right on past him. She’s going to walk out of the loft without saying a single word to him.
He closes his eyes. He can’t watch this happen. He understands, but just because he does doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t there. Of course it is. He’s losing his family today.
A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind. He catches a whiff of Hen’s perfume.
Buck freezes. This is…not what he expected.
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Hen whispers, her chin resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this alone.”
He takes a shaky breath. Opening his eyes again, he turns his head a fraction to look at Hen. She looks sad and maybe scared, but there’s a shade of determination on her face.
Buck really hadn’t expected this.
“You’re not—you’re not mad?” He whispers. He knows he sounds pathetic, but he can’t help it.
“No, Buck. God, no,” Hen says back softly. “This could’ve happened to anybody. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. We’ll get through it, yeah? Together.”
He’s going to cry. Buck can already feel tears welling up again. Jesus, he didn’t think he’d have any left.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, unable to get his voice to work properly.
She shakes her head and tightens her arms around him.
“Don’t be. I’ve got you, Buck, okay? You supported me through my diagnosis and everything that came along with it. Now it’s my turn to do that for you. You’re not alone, Buckaroo. Not anymore.”
Hen brushes a soft kiss against his temple. Tears started tracing paths down his cheeks.
“Thanks, Hen.” Buck takes a few shaky breaths, trying to fight back his emotions for now. He doesn’t want to fall completely apart in front of them all, but he’s not really sure if he’s succeeding.
Hen continues to hold him, which is such a blessing and a comfort that he hadn’t realized how badly he needed until he had it.
Another couple of seconds pass before Harry, Ravi, and Chimney join in the group hug. They crowd him, wrapping their arms around him and promising that this is something they’ll fight together. That he’s not alone, he never has been and he never will be as long as they’re here.
Buck is quickly losing his composure. He’d thought he was losing them. Not even ten minutes ago, as Chim explained to them what was happening, he’d thought this was it. It was over. He’d lost them, his little family that meant everything to him.
But, he hadn’t. He hadn’t lost them. They rallied around him. In a time where he needed them most, they promised him they weren’t going anywhere.
All of them except Eddie, who still sat at the table with an unreadable expression on his face, staring at the surface like it held all the answers.
Buck’s stomach twisted violently. He knew Eddie was angry. Buck had lied to him over and over, claiming he was fine every time Eddie asked.
God, he was going to lose his best friend. The best friend he’d ever had. And losing Eddie meant losing Chris, which was just…quite possibly the worst thing he could even imagine.
He was going to throw up. He was going to be sick.
“Uh, g-guys,” he stuttered, gently but quickly pushing the arms wrapped around him away and standing up. “I’ll be right—" he turned abruptly, covering his mouth with a hand and bolting down the stairs in pursuit of the bathroom.
Dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, he heaved, throwing up what little bit he’d been able to stomach at dinner. His body convulsed, sending jolts of pain all throughout him.
Bucks not sure he’s ever been more miserable than he is now.
Behind him, he hears someone come into the bathroom. The door to the stall he’s in opens and shuts quickly before a hand lands on his back, rubbing soothing motions up and down.
He’s embarrassed, but so thankful. He can’t tell if it’s Hen or Chim, unable to open his eyes as he heaves once more into the toilet, but the silent support is welcome.
“You’re okay, Buck.” Eddie’s voice came from behind him. “You’re going to be okay.”
Eddie was the last person he expected.
“Ed—Eddie,” he rasps when he can finally take a breath. The pounding in his head has increased tenfold.
“I’m here, Buck,” Eddie says gently, his hand never ceasing rubbing circles on his back. “I’ve got you, bud.”
Buck kneels over the toilet for another couple of minutes before his stomach feels settled enough to drop to the floor and catch his breath. With his legs splayed out in front of him, he rests his back against the wall and slouches down, unintentionally making himself look small. He relishes the coolness of the cinder block wall seeping through his sweat damp shirt.
He’s so so tired. He feels like he could pass out right there on the bathroom floor and sleep for the next twelve hours.
He chances a look up at Eddie, afraid of what he’s going to find. It could be anything. Anger, hurt, betrayal…
What he sees is worse.
Eddie’s eyes are glassy with tears. He looks like he’s trying so hard to not let them fall. The sadness on his face is overwhelming. Buck immediately folds.
“I’m so sorry,” he starts, still trying to even out his breathing. “I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so sorry.”
Eddie shakes his head.
“No. No,” he says back, his tone firm. “Do not say sorry. Please don’t apologize. I should be—”
Buck cuts Eddie off before he can say anything else.
“No, Eddie. I—I lied to you. Over and over, I lied to you. I’m sorry.” He takes a deep inhale, blowing it out slowly. A bead of sweat drips down his face. “You asked me so many times to be honest with you and I lied every time and I’m sorry. About—about everything.”
Eddie lowers himself to the floor, sitting beside Buck, pressing right up next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. Thigh to thigh. There’s not a single inch of space between them.
“Buck, I’m the one who should be sorry. I am sorry,” Eddie started. Buck turns his head to look at him, surprised and confused. “I should’ve…I should’ve pushed more. I should’ve been around more.”
Buck shook his head, wincing when a shot of pain jolted down his neck.
“You were, Eddie. You were around. You did push. I’m just—”
“Stubborn?” Eddie cut in.
Buck huffed a chuckle. The first laugh he’s let out in so long.
“Yeah, I guess that’s one word for me,” he agreed. “I’m pretty good at hiding things when I don’t want people seeing it.”
Eddie tipped his head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” Buck said again. “I know you’re probably mad at me and I—I get it—”
“What? Buck, no,” Eddie cut him off. “No, I’m not mad—well, I mean, I am mad, but not at you. Never with you.”
“Who…who then?”
“Myself, Buck. I knew something was wrong. I knew you were struggling and I stepped back anyway.” Buck watches as a tear spills over Eddie’s waterline and trails slowly down his face.
“You didn’t step back. I pushed you away. You couldn’t have known, Eds. I just said I’m good at hiding. I…I hid it. From everyone. I didn’t want any of you to know.”
Eddie rolls his head along the wall until he makes eye contact with Buck.
“Is that why you didn’t answer the door that day Chris and I came over unexpectedly?”
Buck nods once.
“I—yeah. It was,” he says. “I didn't want Chris to see me like that. I didn't even want you to see me like that.”
Eddie lifts his hands to his eyes to wipe them and drops them back down to his lap.
“I wish you would’ve just told me,” Eddie sighs. “But I’m really proud of you for asking for help. That’s really brave, Buck.”
Buck’s eyes suddenly fill with tears at Eddie's words.
“I tried telling you earlier. Before I went to Chim,” he whispers, blinking the tears back before they could fall.
“In the ambulance?”
Buck nods his confirmation. He shivers as a chill runs down his spine.
“Yeah. I was going to ask you for help, but I—you were restocking the meds,” he mutters, shame coursing through him. “I got distracted, and then I got nervous, so I...made something up.”
“I knew you weren’t a hatchback guy,” Eddie quipped, a little smirk pulling at his lips.
It’s such an unexpected comeback that Buck let out a laugh.
And God, what a good feeling it is to laugh with his best friend. It’s been far, far too long.
“Yeah. You’re right,” Buck confirms. “I love my truck.”
Eddie hummed, a soft smile growing on his face. He reached his hand over and settled it on Buck’s knee, giving it a squeeze.
“You’re going to be okay, you know that right?”
Buck nods hesitantly. He knows the next week or so is going to be rough. It’s only been a couple of days, but withdrawal is already kicking his ass.
“I’m not going anywhere, Buck,” Eddie continues. He moves his hand from Buck’s knee up to his hand instead, grasping it tightly. “All of us, we’re going to get you through this, okay?”
“I—I wasn’t sure,” Buck murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was losing you when you didn't join the group hug. I thought I was losing everyone at first. I thought that…this would be the final straw.”
“Never, Buck, never.” Eddie’s tone left no room for argument. “There isn’t anything you could do or say that would send me packing. Do you understand? It’s important to me that you understand that. You’re stuck with me and Christopher for life.”
Once again, Buck’s eyes fill with tears. This time, they spill over, but it’s not tears of sadness. It’s tears of relief. The reassurance from Eddie and everyone else that he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t going to go through this by himself, made his heart swell in his chest.
This was the family he chose, the family he yearned for for so long.
“I understand,” Buck whispered, because he did. Giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze, Buck tipped his head, letting it fall to Eddie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Eds.”
Eddie tipped his head, his cheek resting against Buck’s curls.
Buck’s not sure how long they sat in the bathroom stall, taking comfort in the fact that they were both there, but eventually, Buck’s eyes grew heavy and he started dozing against the warmth of Eddie. Eddie gently shook him awake, pulled him up, and led him towards the bunkroom.
“Get some sleep,” Eddie murmured to him after helping him settle in a bed and pulling the covers up to his shoulders. “I’ll be right here, the whole time.”
He was still hurting. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Ice crawled through his veins while his entire body was simultaneously on fire. His stomach still churned with nausea.
But, with Eddie at his bedside, the rest of his family close by, and the promises they’d made, Buck had never felt more loved. More safe. More important.
As he drifted off, he started to believe that maybe he would be okay after all.