#or maybe an Eddie moving to Texas storyline that I haven’t come up with yet

[buddiesmutslut]

Hello I wrote this in the middle of the night at some point & have absolutely no idea where I’m going to go with it, but I really like it anyway & need to share it!

Buck experienced his first earthquake at 28 years of age, in Los Angeles, California.

However, that was not the first time he felt the world shake beneath his feet. In fact, he’s pretty sure he was born on unstable ground, tremors snaking out in the fault lines beneath him, dogging his every step of his entire life.

He doesn’t think he’s ever truly felt the ground settle; the glasses are always clinking, porcelain plates shaking, the foundation of every place he’s ever lived vibrating, holding its breath for the big shock to hit and bury him in the rubble.

He got used to it quickly, being that it’s all he’s ever known. He’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the ground to crumple at his feet, Earth crumbling and sucking him down along with it. He can’t imagine living any other way, probably wouldn’t even know what to do with himself if it ever was a possibility.

He’s never felt the calm sturdiness of solid ground, would have no idea how to act if the noise and the shaking stopped and settled, would probably miss the quaking, if only because he only knows how to act then. He knows how to survive in that situation, how to balance his weight. He knows not to get too comfortable, when it’s time to shelter in place and when to move before he’s buried alive with no escape.

He messed up, though. Got too comfortable, swore the shaking was tapering off. He let himself wonder. Let himself start to envision who he could be if he didn’t have to cling to walls and bolted furniture.

He let himself think about taking a fear-free step out in the sunshine, and now he’s paying for it.

The cabinets have collapsed, burying him in shattered plates & shards of glass. The floor fell through beneath him, making it even harder to climb his way to freedom, and it’s nobody’s fault but his own.

This was his curse to bear, his reminder, that nothing ever lasted long. He allowed himself to think about *after*, when he should’ve known there would never be an after. There was never be solid, steady ground. There is only shaky ground and wobbly furniture and fear of what comes next, and he has to pay the price of forgetting that.