bewereofthemoon
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There’s no marriage left to salvage. Shannon left him two years ago, and whatever fragile hope he was holding onto, whatever flickered in their bed two days ago, died the moment she recognised Buck.
But that’s not what he tells Buck.
“Right,” Eddie says, shifting his weight, crossing his arms across his chest. “And Shannon’s back, I mean you saw her the other day, so we’re gonna—” Eddie takes a breath. “—try again. And me and you can, you know, move on.”
Buck indulges in a threesome with a married couple in El Paso, Texas. Two years later, Eddie Diaz joins the 118. Buck really wishes those two facts weren’t related.
Bookmarked by bewereofthemoon
12 Mar 2026
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"Want to tell me what happened?"
Eddie doesn't. In fact, he can't think of anything he'd want less. Yet, there's something in her voice that soothes, just a little, the inferno and eases the anguish. He exhales.
"I just got angry. I'm not sure why. He didn't do anything wrong." Eddie is a monstrous creature baring its teeth. A shapeless shadow made from broken bones and despair. He's barely human. He's a child dressed in his father's too big clothes choking on his own words. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Maddie hums thoughtfully, understandingly, "it happens sometimes. We all have bad days, Buck understands that. I'm sure it'll be all forgiven by tomorrow"
A guttural groan claws its way out of him. Maddie takes it for the what if it isn't that it means.
"Come on, you're Buck-and-Eddie! Nothing could ever pull you guys apart."
OR; Eddie breaks a glass and Buck fixes it: an exploration of Eddie's struggles with anger, joy, and himself.
Bookmarked by bewereofthemoon
25 Feb 2026
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One windy night, cuddling on the couch, Buck told him he wanted to have more children; one long and devastating conversation later, Eddie said he couldn’t get on board with that. The adult thing to do was to break up, after 14 wonderful months of being together.
Or the 5 stages of grief as told by the rise and fall of Buck and Eddie’s relationship. Or the fall and rise. Grief is not linear, nor the same for everyone.
Bookmarked by bewereofthemoon
08 Feb 2026
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Bookmarked by bewereofthemoon
24 Jan 2026
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On his first day, Eddie sees the ghost before he meets him.
There is a boy, younger than Christopher but not by much, who runs around the station like it’s a playground. For a second, while Eddie is pulling a shirt over his head, he thinks the boy is real and someone ought to be watching out for him because a fire station is no place for a kid that young to play unsupervised.
And then the boy, pale, skinny and too frail for his age, passes through an exiting member of C shift like wind through a plastic bag. A ghost.
“Who the hell is that?”
Eddie watches as the ghost – just a fucking kid, really – whips his head around to the voice. His face lights up and Eddie’s heart sinks because how cruel can this world be?
He turns around and Eddie is struck. The man is strong and broad, all blue eyes and defined features. If it weren’t for the splotch of color above his eyebrow, Eddie would think that the man and the little boy standing at his side were genetic matches.
OR Eddie Diaz can see ghosts — that’s nothing new. The little boy following around his new coworker is a different story.
Bookmarked by bewereofthemoon
13 Nov 2025