#your lives are spared from buck mcd a little longer

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

[sugarandspace]

Where’s Dad? (Buddie)

Summary: The lights are still on when Buck parks in front of the Diaz house. He stays in the Jeep for a moment, gathering strength to go inside even though he knows that no time in the world would prepare him to deliver the news he’s going to have to tell Christopher.

Warnings: graphic mentions of injury and blood (no MCD)

AO3

For a moment, everything stops. For one blissful moment, Buck’s brain is unable to process what happened right in front of him.

He can’t stop looking at Eddie.

But then Eddie’s eyes fall closed and Buck knows he needs to get to him.

He snaps into action, all his senses coming back to focus in one blink of an eye. Suddenly he can feel his heart beating erratically, can feel the specks of blood drying on his face and he can taste it on his lips and it makes him want to throw up.

It’s Eddie’s blood.

There’s so much blood on the ground and Buck knows he needs to get to him, no matter that they still don't know where the shot came from. He’s not letting Eddie lie there alone.

Dying.

For one blissful moment, Buck’s mind was quiet. But as that moment comes to an end, everything is in razor-sharp focus and he has to act.

While helping Eddie and while in the ambulance with him and Chim, he has a single-minded focus. Help Eddie. Keep him alive. The blood on his face no longer matters because there’s so much of it in his hands as he’s trying to press against the wound while Chim is working next to him. Everything happens so fast but simultaneously it feels like the time is moving very slowly because Eddie is bleeding out and needs to be in the hospital now. 

He knows it only takes them minutes to reach the hospital but it feels like hours.

When Eddie is wheeled in from the ER doors, the time goes back to moving slowly.

Buck feels off-balance, like there’s a fog in his mind. All that determination to help Eddie no longer has an outlet, and Buck finds himself unsure of what he should do now. Chim leads him to the bathroom. Helps him wash away all the blood. Finds him a clean shirt that Buck recognizes as the type the nurses wear.

The waiting room is full of people. Bobby must have notified Eddie’s family since Abuela and Pepa arrive not long after the rest of the team has found their seats in the room. Maddie is there too, and her comforting hand on Buck’s shoulder is the only thing that keeps Buck from falling apart. She tried to talk to him when she first arrived, probably having heard what happened from Chim, but eventually stopped when it became obvious Buck wasn’t going to talk. 

The room is full of people, but you could hear a pin drop in the silence that has fallen over the terrified group.

A big portion of the fear disappears when the doctor tells them that the surgery went fine, that Eddie is stable and is expected to have a full recovery. Buck’s heart calms a little, the pressure around his lungs easing up and letting him draw in a deep breath for the first time in hours.

They are allowed to visit him, but the doctor warns them that the medication they gave to Eddie is strong, and he will be sleeping until morning. Abuela and Pepa are the first ones allowed into the room and Buck really doesn’t know to expect it when Abuela walks over to him and takes his hand, leading him in with the two women. Buck wants to thank her but his throat is blocked with emotion. It seems like she understands as she smiles at him warmly.

It’s a relief when Buck is finally able to see Eddie. He looks pale and frail in the hospital bed and he’s lying so motionlessly that Buck would be terrified if it weren’t for the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him. They stay in the room for a while, and he wants nothing more than to stay until Eddie wakes up, but there’s something he needs to do, someone who doesn’t yet know what happened to Eddie today.

The drive back to the station to change his clothes and retrieve his car goes in a blur as Buck tries to come up with a way to tell Christopher what happened to his father today. How do you tell a child that their father got shot?

Christopher was still little when Eddie was in the army, not fully understanding the dangers brought in by a warzone. Christopher knows that his father’s current job can be dangerous at times, but getting shot shouldn’t be one of the things they’d need to worry about anymore. 

But it happened, and Buck feels like he should be the one telling Christopher.

The lights are still on when Buck parks in front of the Diaz house. He stays in the Jeep for a moment, gathering strength to go inside even though he knows that no time in the world would prepare him to deliver the news he’s going to have to tell Christopher.

When Buck walks in, Carla finds him before he’s able to fully take off his shoes. As soon as he straightens up he’s pulled to a strong hug and it feels like Carla’s warm and comforting embrace is able to put some parts of his frayed heart back together. He can’t help but let out a sniffle, to which Carla responds by squeezing him harder.

“I know honey,” she says. “I know.”

They are interrupted by Christopher’s voice from the living room.

“Dad?”

It sends a pain so strong through Buck’s heart that he thinks he’s going to crumble right there.

“He doesn’t know anything,” Carla confirms. It’s what they agreed on. Christopher shouldn’t have to spend half of the day worrying when there was nothing they could do. It was better to wait until they knew Eddie was going to be okay.

It’s still going to be difficult, but at least he can tell Christopher that his father will be okay, that the dangerous part is over.

Buck refuses to spare thoughts to how differently this evening could have gone.

“Do you want me to stay?” Carla asks. 

“No,” Buck says. His voice is rough from disuse. “Thank you for staying with him today.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me,” Carla says. “I love that boy. And I can stay if you need me to.”

“No,” Buck says. He appreciates the offer but it isn't needed. “It’s okay. Go be with your family.”

“If you’re sure,” Carla says. “But I’m only a call away if you need me.”

“Thank you, Carla,” Buck says. They hug again before Carla moves to the living room to say goodbye to Christopher. Buck uses the time to take a couple more deep breaths in the hallway. As Carla walks past him she reaches up to squeeze his shoulder.

“He’s going to be fine,” Carla says. “They both are. These boys are strong and they have you to help them.”

Carla’s last words are kind but Buck is struggling to accept them. There was absolutely nothing he could do to keep Eddie safe today. They are partners and they are supposed to watch each other’s backs while out on a call. Buck knows that what happened today was out of his control, and he’s getting better at not blaming himself for things like that, but at the moment everything is still a little too fresh for him to think rationally. He thinks briefly of how he should make an emergency appointment with doctor Copeland tomorrow.

“Goodnight Carla,” he says and musters up a small smile. He really is grateful for the faith she has in him, and the optimism he has about Christopher and Eddie.

“Night Buck,” she says, and then she’s out of the door.

Buck takes a deep breath and walks into the living room, finding Christopher on the couch watching a movie. It’s a little past his normal bedtime, but he doesn’t seem suspicious of being allowed to stay up later. When he hears Buck walk into the room he turns to look at him.

“Buck!” He says happily. “I didn’t know you were coming too!”

“Hi buddy,” Buck says.

“Wait,” Christopher says. “Where’s dad?”

He must have realised that his father should have been in the living room by now, greeting him with Buck and talking about bedtime. But it’s only Buck, and Buck knows that he looks a little worse for wear.

“Christopher,” Buck starts but Christopher keeps talking before Buck can say anything more. He gets up from the couch and starts moving towards Buck. 

“Where’s dad?”Christopher asks as he stops in front of Buck, leaning on his crutches. His tone is confused and a little bit scared. He’s a smart kid, he knows something is wrong.

Buck kneels so he’s on the same level as Christopher. His words are quiet as he speaks.

“Your dad is not coming home tonight.”

“Why?” Christopher asks, his words slow. It’s like he’s scared to hear the answer.

“Something happened at work,” Buck says. “Your dad was helping someone and he got hurt. He needs to stay in the hospital for a few days.”

“Is he okay?” Christopher asks. Buck can see tears welling up in his eyes and his voice comes out wobbly. Buck tries his best to control his own emotions because he needs to be strong for Christopher.

“He will be,” Buck says. “I can take you to see him tomorrow if you want to.”

Christopher nods and the tears fall over. Buck pulls him into a hug when he starts crying, the crutches clattering to the floor.

“He’s not going to go away? Like mom?” Christopher asks between sobs and Buck is immediately reminded of a conversation they had weeks ago. Buck closes his own eyes tightly as he holds Christopher close.

“No,” Buck replies, making sure that his tone is steady and sure. “The doctor said he’s going to be okay. He’s just sleeping right now. He’s going to be okay.” 

The reminder is as much for himself as it is for Christopher.

Christopher nods against his shoulder but keeps crying. He’s unsteady on his feet and the position is starting to hurt Buck’s back, so he picks Christopher up and carries him to the couch. When Buck sets him down, Christopher doesn’t let go, so Buck sits down next to him and settles them in a way that’s comfortable, Christopher’s arms around his neck as Buck tries to help him calm down by brushing his hand up and down Christopher’s back.

Buck thinks about how he hasn’t even told Christopher what happened to Eddie, but as he feels Christopher’s crying calm down and the sobs turn to hiccups, he doesn’t have the heart to tell him more tonight. 

All the crying has worn him out and there’s no need to upset him more tonight. Christopher is a child, and hearing that your dad got hurt is traumatic enough. Telling him that it was because someone shot him, that it wasn’t an accident but rather someone actively wanted to hurt his father? Buck would rather do it before they go to the hospital so that Christopher doesn’t need to wait overnight to see his dad. Christopher starts leaning more heavily against Buck, and Buck moves his hand to brush through Christopher’s hair, hoping that it calms the boy more.

“Buck?” Christopher asks. It’s obvious the crying has worn him out and he’s on the verge of sleep.

“Yeah?” 

“Will you stay?” Christopher asks.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Buck promises. “Go to sleep. You’ll see your dad tomorrow.”

“Right after breakfast?” 

“Right after.”

Buck doesn’t want to keep Christopher away from Eddie any longer than he has to, and he knows that if Eddie is awake in the morning, he will want to see Christopher. They’ll both need each other.

And Buck is really looking forward to seeing Eddie awake as well. He knows that Eddie is in the clear, but he feels that only seeing him awake and talking will finally calm his heart.

It doesn’t take long until Christopher is asleep. Buck picks him up carefully and carries him into his room, setting him on the bed and tucking him in. He hopes Christopher’s rest will be undisturbed and that today’s events won’t make their way to his dreams like Buck is sure they will come to his - that is if he manages to fall asleep at all.

Buck turns the lights off but leaves the door open, wanting to be able to hear Christopher in case he has a nightmare or needs him in the middle of the night. He goes back to the living room and sits on the couch, unsure of what to do now. It’s the first time he’s alone since this morning before he went to work. So much has happened in the past twelve hours that the morning feels like a completely different life. One where things were good and none of them were in danger.

Eddie got shot today.

It brings out the worry that someone is apparently targeting firefighters, and that that someone is still on the loose. But it’s only an afterthought for Buck, who can’t forget the way Eddie looked, how he fell, how much he bled and how he almost died.

They nearly lost Eddie today.

Buck can’t keep it in anymore. There’s no one here he needs to stay strong for. No Eddie, no 118 or Eddie’s relatives, and no Christopher. Buck buries his face in his hands as he cries, letting out every tear that has wanted to escape since he was able to process that Eddie was injured. He tries to stay quiet so that he doesn’t wake up Christopher, but he cries for every terror-filled moment he’s had today, all the vivid memories that are playing on a loop in his mind, every should-have and what-if.

He lets himself feel it all. 

Eventually the day catches up with his body as it already has with his mind and he feels tired, his shoulder sore from when he hit it earlier when he was pushed down. He takes the blanket from the back of the couch and pulls it over himself when he lays down on the couch, reaching for the remote to turn the tv off but not bothering with lights. Getting up feels like too much effort.

So he wraps himself in the blanket that smells like Eddie and lets his eyes fall closed, succumbing to what will probably be a very restless sleep.