Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It started when he was a kid. His parents could barely glance in his direction without a look of annoyance falling on their faces, and it hurt. It was obvious they never wanted him for a son.

Not that they didn’t want a son; they just didn’t want him.

No matter what he did, they didn’t care about his accomplishments, or even him as a person. It’s like he’s invisible to them, and when he makes himself seen, it annoys them. Even from a young age, Evan Buckley has recognized he had disappointed his parents early on. He just never knew what he did to earn their dissatisfaction.

He eventually grew to assume it was just the simple act of being born.

Buck had grown used to it. He’d get dismissive shakes of their head, or subtle eye rolls his parents couldn’t hide from him because he was always watching, studying them to see if they even cared for him at all.

And Buck was starting to understand they didn’t.

So he gave up.

He stopped showing them drawings he was proud of. He stopped offering to help around the house. He stopped trying to get them to notice him because no matter what he did, they didn’t want to love him.

So Buck learned how to survive without their love.

It hurt, but that didn’t matter. Buck never expected anything to change.

That was until he decided to ride a bike without training wheels.

Something in his world shifted that day.

His sister was nervously standing next to him, holding the seat and handlebars of the bike tightly. She was always there to support him, and raise him when his parents couldn’t be bothered to do it themselves.

“We don’t need to rush this,” Maddie offers again, but Buck is quick to shake his head.

“I don’t need them anymore,” he insists, but he was having a hard time proving it.

Buck had lost count of how many times he’d fallen down. His elbows were scraped, his jeans were ripped, and his limbs were sore, but he was going to learn. He didn’t need the support training wheels offered anymore. He was going to be able to do it on his own.

And Buck wasn’t getting off this bike until he succeeded.

“You’re not going to let go, right?” He asks Maddie for the millionth time, and she agrees.

At the confirmation, Buck begins peddling. He pushes past the ache in his abused muscles, forcing himself to just push forward because he was going to get it this time.

“Just like that, Evan,” Maddie compliments, her pace picking up to run alongside her brother as his speed increases.

“But don’t let go,” Buck reminds her, a little scared to fall again. Not because of the pain, but because he wasn’t sure how many more failures he could handle.

“You’re getting it!” Maddie cries happily, which makes a smile blossom on Bucks face. He loved it when Maddie was proud of him.

She was the only person ever proud of him.

Maddie let’s go, because her brother was finally doing it. He was wobbly, but still standing up straight. She stops running alongside him to cheer.

“You let go!” He accuses, but he keeps going forward because he hadn’t fallen over yet. Gravity hasn’t dragged him down.

“You’re doing it! All on your own!” She yells enthusiastically, ecstatic to see him finally succeed. Maddie knew how desperately he wanted this.

She knew her little brother was a force to be reckoned with. She just didn’t like that he always seemed to be the one taking the brunt of that force.

Buck decides to peddle faster, relishing in the increased speed from the combination of biking down hill, and the way he pushes his tired muscles to work harder. He’s going so fast; the wind whips at his face and he can barely see the things he passes, but it doesn’t matter because he has finally done it.

Maddie’s excitement changes to pure fear as she notices a car approaching. She realises, chest tight, that she never taught him to brake, or even turn. They had never gotten this far, and suddenly it was all happening too fast.

“Turn, Evan! Turn away from the car!” She screeches, frozen in fear. Her heart pounds loudly against her rib cage, but she can only watch in horror as the flash of her brother continues to barrel towards the road, no hint of slowing down. “Lean!”

Buck is broken free of his pride in that moment by Maddie shouting, and he finally looks up. He’s headed straight for a car, and he doesn’t know what to do.

In a moment of haste, fueled by panic, Buck leans hard. His hands twist the handlebars sideways, in the direction he leans in a last ditch effort to change his angle.

He’s not sure what happens.

There’s a loud car horn, and next thing he knows, he’s laying on the asphalt, body burning from the scrapes littering his skin, and his leg is throbbing in pain. He feels the warm wetness twinging the skin of his shin, and he looks down to see his own blood leaking through a tear in his jeans, staining the denim fabric.

His mom was going to be so mad when she did his laundry.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Maddie gasps to herself as she stumbles down the hill, running as fast as she can to get to her brother, who lays messily on the ground next to the spilled bike.

Buck pushes himself to sit up, his entire body protesting, trying to keep him down. Tears spring into his eyes and down his face because everything hurts and now he’s ruined his jeans and his mom was going to be mad.

Maddie drops to her knees next to him, taking her small brother into her arms and shushing his cries.

“It’s okay, Evan. You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get you patched up,” she comforts, but she’s entirely out of her depth here.

Maddie continues to whisper any comfort that comes to mind, and she uses her thumb to wipe every tear that leaks from his eyes.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Margaret Buckley's voice cries, breaking the tense air.

She runs up to her children, looking scared as she stares at Bucks injured shin. Her husband is quick behind her, and Buck watches his eyes widen in concern.

“He fell!” Maddie gasps out, hoping her parents will take over because she’s feeling desperate, and she doesn’t know how to help Evan who hasn’t stopped crying.

“Mommy!” Evan cries, reaching for his mom who finally looks like she is about to reach back. Their mom sticks her arms out towards him, and begins to lean forward to help, but she stops.

Her body tenses, and her demeanour changes. Her face goes pale, and she points a shaking hand at the discarded bike next to her crying child. “Where did you get that?”

Maddie’s confused as to why she’s focused on the bike, and not Evan, who has not stopped crying or bleeding, but then she realises. Maddie purses her lips, “It was in the corner of the garage, under a bunch of junk.”

Their mom looks at her husband in betrayal and he stammers. “Margaret, listen-.”

“No. No!” She shouts, turning away and quickly running back into the house, abandoning her husband to deal with the mess.

Bucks tears have finally dried, and the disappointment flooding his system washes away the pain.

Their dad turns to look at them. “You should have left it where it was!” He practically growls at them.

“I’m- I’m sorry dad,” Maddie stutters, feeling everyone’s concern shift to coldness.

“Take your brother inside,” He sighs, sounding more disappointed than worried.

Maddie nods, and quickly helps Buck stand up, and the two hobble inside together.

Maddie helps to patch Buck's leg up, sitting in the bathroom with the door locked. They can keep everything out, except for the shouting, and arguing emanating from the floor below them.

Buck doesn't understand what sparked the argument, but he’s sure it’s his fault. He always made a mess. But this time, it had been different. Buck realised something. His mom actually cared, for just a moment. For just a brief, blissful moment, she was going to comfort him, and love him, until she focused on a bike. It burned knowing a bike mattered more than him, but Buck finally knew what he had to do to get their love. He had watched concern flare in his mothers eye, and for once, it was directed at him. That moment of parental love sparked something deep inside of Evan Buckley. It ignited a fire in him, burning with the desire to actually be cared for.

Buck spent the rest of his childhood throwing himself into dangerous, stupid actions he knew were going to end up hurting him, but he didn’t care. Each time, for a fleeting moment, he watched as his parents finally focused on him with an emotion other than dissatisfaction.

He was finally wrapped in comfort from someone who wasn’t Maddie, and it felt good; addicting, even. Those small moments where he was receiving their love became his own personal drug. It was like a high, pure satisfaction thrumming through his veins every time for a few brief, wonderful moments. He found that he couldn’t stop himself from getting hurt, even when he could prevent it. Not that he wanted to. He finally felt a love he had spent the early years of his life desperately craving.

It could be as simple as getting to choose what’s for dinner because he broke his arm. Or his mom kissing the bandaid she placed over a cut. It just meant he was heard. It meant his parents were actually listening to Buck. His existence was actually acknowledged with an emotion other than disdain, and it filled a hole deep inside of him.

Buck became attached to those moments of love, and in turn, he’d become attached to the physical pain that came with it. When his parents finally lost interest, and deemed him well enough to go back to practically ignoring him, Buck still had the physical pain to distract him from the painful truth; he only mattered when he was bruised or bleeding.

It was the only time his parents saw any value in him as a person, and as their son.

And Evan Buckley latched onto that fact, and never let go.

***

Bucks alarm blares loudly in his ear, and he can’t stop the groan that rips out of his chest at the sound that’s intruding on his sleep. Or what is better described as that limbo between sleep and awareness he’d finally managed to fall into.

His past few months have been filled with restless nights; tossing, and turning while stewing with nothing more than the darkness of the night, and the thoughts in his head.

Without opening his eyes, Buck turns to the table and a bit too harshly, slaps his hand on the alarm clock, desperately searching for the snooze button. He sighs when he finally hits it, but his annoyance doesn’t fade because he knows he has to actually get up.

Buck rolls onto his back, and peeks one of his eyes open, wincing at the sunlight streaming in through the window. He tilts his head to glance at the space next to him, and he sighs. It’s empty, again.

He ignores the way the sight makes his heart leap into his throat.

Buck forces himself to sit up, his muscles protesting. He’s tired, and just wants to stay in bed, but as usual, duty calls.

He ensures the alarm clock is off, before shuffling to the bathroom. He sluggishly slips his clothes off before stepping into the shower. When the initially cold water hits his body, he barely contains the yelp that tries to leave him.

He’s definitely awake now.

Buck reluctantly begins his routine of washing his hair, and cleaning his body. As he’s lathering shampoo in his hair, he pays no mind to the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. He doesn’t turn his head to look until he feels a body slip in behind him.

Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Buck's bare shoulder, “Goodmorning.”

“Y’know, I’m here for your health kick and all that,” Buck starts, not even greeting his boyfriend before he is turning around to face Eddie accusingly. “But are you seriously going to get up and leave me every single morning?”

Eddie chuckles, replacing Buck hands in his partner's hair, massaging the shampoo suds into Buck's scalp further. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“I think every side is the wrong side when you're waking up alone,” Buck complains. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut starts to ease having Eddie right here, where he can see and feel him.

“My offer still stands. You could always join me on my runs,” Eddie offers, and Buck rolls his eyes.

“No way in hell am I waking up to run at 4 in the morning,” Buck deadpans.

“Buck, you’re a firefighter. You can handle being up at all hours of the morning.”

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy it, or want to,” Buck declares.

Eddie huffs, gently pushing Buck backwards so that his hair is under the stream of water, washing the shampoo out. “You don’t even notice when I leave.”

“I notice when I’m awake, and alone,” Buck shoots back, feeling pissy.

“If you woke up to my alarm, then you wouldn’t wake up alone.”

“Your alarms are too quiet.”

“It’s on the loudest setting. You could just sleep through a freight train,” Eddie counters, and Buck squawks indignantly.

“I did not let you into my shower just so that you can be rude.”

“Oh come on. We’re saving water,” Eddie says, and Buck snorts.

“You don’t care about saving water. You just want to see me naked.”

“There may be some truth to that.”

“No, not ‘some’ truth. That’s the only reason you're here right now.”

“Maybe,” Eddie agrees. “Now turn around, I’ll wash your back.”

Buck sighs, deciding to save his complaints for later. He was definitely not a morning person, but maybe he’ll feel less bitter when he gets some coffee.

He turns his back to Eddie, who is instantly using his hands to massage soap into Bucks skin. Buck relaxes into the touch, unable to stay tense as Eddie rubs away the remaining tension in his muscles.

The relief is instantaneous, and Buck didn’t realise how tightly wound he was this day until now. The feeling is almost orgasmic, and he can’t stop the groan that slips from his lips. He hears Eddie chuckle to himself at the sound, but Buck doesn’t care because his hands just feel so good.

Buck almost whines out loud when he feels Eddie’s hands pause their movements, stilling against his skin. He feels one of Eddie’s hands delicately trace the skin above his butt, just on his lower back towards the left.

“Why’d you stop?” Buck asks, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. “I would let you grab my ass if you kept that massage up,” he teases.

Eddie huffs a small laugh, “No- umm, you just have a pretty nasty bruise here.” Eddie punctuates his sentence by applying slight pressure to the purple mark, and Buck can’t stop himself from wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

“What's it from?” Eddie asks, faintly running his fingers over it before going back to kneading Bucks shoulders.

“I’m not sure. Probably just got banged up on a call,” Buck dismisses.

“Has it been hurting? Looks like it would.”

“I’ve barely noticed it,” Buck lies. He knew that spot was tender, but it wasn’t terribly painful, so he didn’t care enough to look into it.

Eddie sighs, and presses his chest flat against Bucks back. He hooks his chin on Bucks shoulder, and leans to press gentle kisses to his neck, “You need to be more careful.”

Buck lets his eyes close, and he tilts his head to give Eddie more room. “I promise I will be.”

It’s an empty promise Buck has made a million times, to a request he’s received more times than he can count.

He knows it won’t be true. Buck doesn’t really care about being careful. Not when there’s a job to do, and people to save. He just hopes his empty words will be enough to satisfy Eddie.

***

Buck and Eddie took the jeep to drop Christopher off at school, making sure he knew it would be Carla picking him up. They made their way to the firehouse, clocking in for a 24 hour shift.

Buck is bent over the pool table, aiming the cue to try and hit the eight ball into the pocket.

“Hurry it up Buckley. You don’t need this much time to plan your miss,” Chimney taunts, standing with a hand on his hip, tapping the base of his own cue against the floor impatiently.

“You can't rush perfection,” Buck shoots back, thrusting the cue forward. The ball bounces against the edge of the table, narrowly missing the hole. Buck groans, and Chim whistles.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Chim taunts, leaning towards Buck, putting a hand behind his ear and turning it towards Buck. “What were you saying Buckley?”

“Alright, alright Chimney. Make your play before your head gets too big,” Buck says, pointing his finger at the table.

Chimney hums, and pushes his cue to collide with the white ball. Buck watches as it sinks the eight ball, and he sighs, his head falling forward. Chimney throws his hands up in celebration, and turns towards Buck.

“And that’s how it’s done!” He cheers, and Buck nods sarcastically, lips pursed.

“Yeah, I would’ve gotten it in if it wasn’t for you chirping in my ear.”

“That’s the excuse of a sore loser, Buckley. Just admit that you have not reached my skill level,” Chimney taunts, pulling a small chuckle from Buck.

“If that’s what you have to keep telling yourself,” he says, starting to begin re-racking the balls. “Rematch?”

“Are you really ready to lose twice?” Chimney asks, but he leans forward to help Buck.

They’re interrupted by the loud blare of the alarm, and the flashing red lights of an incoming call.

“Guess I’ll have to kick your ass another time,” Chim says, placing the pool cue down, and starting towards the stairs.

Buck puts his own down, moving quickly to the fire pole. He grabs his turnout gear, before hopping into the engine. He finds his place next to Eddie, who pats his thigh quickly in a small greeting.

“What do we got, Cap?” Hen calls through the headset from where she was driving the ambulance, trailing the ladder truck that was cutting through traffic with its loud sirens.

“Missing child; 9 years old. Family lives out in the country. Thinks she ran off to play, and she hasn’t been home since,” Bobby explains.

“How long has she been missing?” Eddie asks.

“3 hours.”

The air is tense in the engine, the silence suffocating. It was always like this when a child was in danger. It sucked the fun, and positivity right out of them.

They pull up into the gravel driveway of a small ranch house. It’s fairly worn down, and looks like it’s teetering on the edge of collapse, but it somehow still holds a homely vibe. The sky is grey and gloomy, and it briefly passes in Bobby’s mind that maybe the weather network was wrong when they said there would be no rain today.

As Buck gets out of the engine, he can already pinpoint some weak spots in the old white wooden fence lining the property. There are spots where the fence is entirely missing, or collapsed, seeping into the softened ground. Definitely not secure enough to keep a young child safe, or contained to their property.

“Okay team, we are going to fan out. I want everyone to spread out, and head off in different directions. Keep your radios on, and talk if you find, or hear anything. Be careful in the unknown terrain,” Bobby orders, and everyone affirms.

They all begin walking in separate directions around the yard, calling for the little girl, and Bobby heads up to the house where the frantic mother waits on the porch.

“Ma’am, I’m captain Bobby Nash.”

“Helen,” she introduces herself. Her face is tear stained, and her eyes are red rimmed. “Please, Cheryll. You need to find my baby!”

“We are doing everything we can. My team is out looking for her now. Is there any more information you can provide me with?”

“She’s- she’s 9 years old. She had been outside with the dog, Kitty. God-, she named that dog ‘Kitty’ when she was 4 years old, and they’ve been attached at the hip ever since. He’s probably with her. He’s not violent, but he’s protective of her.”

Bobby clicks onto the radio channel, “Be advised, a dog may be with the child. No violent history, but he’s protective of the child.”

“Copy that,” Buck says into the channel, and many other voices echo the statement. He wishes they could’ve done this in pairs. It’s always more reassuring to have a second pair of eyes with him, monitoring for things he may have missed. But this method made more sense. There was just too much ground to cover.

“Cheryll! Cheryll! This is the fire department, can you hear me?” Buck calls out into the vast land. He’s past the fence, and no longer on the property. The ground slopes down in a large hill, and his stomach churns knowing that it would’ve been easy for a small child to tumble down it.

He walks carefully, realising the mud is causing him to slip. The heavy onslaught of wind and rain over the past few days has caused this ground to be acting like a mudslide. Buck doubts the girl could’ve found any balance on it, considering the strong wind still whipping against him.

Buck isn’t sure how far he’s gotten from the rest of the 118, but it’s a small group of people covering a large span of land. He knows he’s made a good distance at least, considering he can’t hear their own shouts in the wind anymore.

“Cheryll! Cheryll!” Buck calls out again, straining his ears for a response.

Buck feels his frustrations and worry festering when the only sound he can hear is the wind whistling, like it’s mocking him. Buck clicks his radio on, “Cap, I think she’s probably fallen down this hill. The rains slicked the mud, and-.”

Bucks cut off by his own feet slipping out from under him.

Eddie listens as Buck is talking, and the next moment there’s a jostling sound, then the radio cuts out with a click. His hand lands on his own radio, but Bobby beats him to it.

“Buck, do you copy?”

The silence over the radio is broken by the rapid beating in Eddie’s chest. He waits with bated breath for a response.

“Buckley, do you copy?” Bobby calls out again.

“Copy, Cap,” Bucks voice finally crackles over the radio. Eddie’s head slumps forward, and he breathes a sigh of relief. For a moment, he was worried something really bad had happened. Danger always manages to find Buck. Or Buck always manages to find the danger.

Buck had rolled down the hill, and found himself on his back in cold water. He cringes, feeling it seep into his turnout gear, slicking his skin with a chill. Buck pushes himself to sit up, to see that he’s sitting on the edge of the mouth of a fast flowing river. He can see in the distance that the river seems to feed out into a bigger sea that he’s pretty sure is the ocean. He turns his head up to look at the tall hill behind him, which looks a lot more intimidating when you’re sitting at the bottom. Buck realises he must’ve fell a pretty good distance. He’s lucky he didn’t break his neck.

“Are you okay? Do you need assistance? What happened?” Bobby rapidly fires the questions at him.

“I’m good. I fell,” he huffs, laughing a little at himself, knowing how dumb he sounds. He's sure they’ll be teasing him for weeks. “No assistance needed.”

Bobby sighs, “You better watch your step.” He sounds like a tired father, telling his toddler to be more careful on the sidewalk.

“Will do,” Buck says, finally taking his hand off the radio. Buck pushes himself to his feet, his bones creaking. He stands in ankle deep water, ignoring the way it floods his boots and soaks his socks. He looks along the edge of the water for any signs of the girl, or the dog.

“Cheryll! Cheryll! LAFD!” He shouts, his words drowned out by the crashing waves of the water.

His worst suspicions are confirmed when he hears a faint noise. He almost dismisses it, thinking it’s the sound of the water, but something about it makes him pause. It’s a deep, guttural sound. He waits, until Buck hears it again and he takes off running towards it.

“Cheryll! Can you hear me?” He screams. As he gets closer, he can confirm the sound is that of a dog barking.

“Cap, I can hear the dog. He is down at the river. Trying to pinpoint the sound now,” Buck shouts into the radio.

Bobby turns to face the mother, “Is there a river near here?”

Helen gasps, her hands shooting up to cover her own mouth. “Oh my god! The river! It’s at the bottom of the hill!”

He didn’t understand how she could leave out such a crucial piece of information, but Bobby cuts her a break, knowing the anxiety she must be feeling. Bobby swears internally, not wanting to scare her more. “I need everyone to rendezvous towards Buck. There is a river at the bottom of the hill!”

Buck finally finds the dog. It’s a soaking wet Doberman barking at the water.

“Hey puppy, where is she?” Buck asks, approaching the dog who whimpers. He is relieved to see the dog hasn’t taken an aggressive attitude.

Buck's eyes scan the water, and he finally spots her. He sees a head of red hair bobbing up and down, sinking beneath the surface. He can see her struggling in the waves.

“Cap, I found her. She’s in the water! I’m going in!” Buck shouts, not waiting for a response. He doesn’t have time to think. He doesn’t have time to prepare. Buck just acts because Cheryll is so close to his reach, and he can save her. He just has to act now, before it’s too late.

He dives into the cold, choppy water, still wearing all his gear, and is instantly met with resistance he wasn’t prepared for.

*

“Cap, I found her. She’s in the water! I’m going in!”

Bobby grabs his radio, “Buck, do not go in untethered! This wind will have created a strong riptide!”

His shouts are met with silence.

“Buck, don't be stupid! Wait for the team!” Bobby knows his attempts are useless.

Nothing.

“Buck? Come in, Buck!” He calls into the radio again.

Still silent on the other end.

Bobby curses, turning to Helen. “I need to go.”

He doesn’t wait for her response, he takes off running. He crosses the backyard, and sees Hen and Chim sprinting up behind him.

Bobby breaches the top of the hill, the other two quick on his heels. He looks down to see Eddie already halfway down, struggling to manoeuvre on the slippery ground.

“Buck! Buck!” Eddie shouts, looking for Buck. He was the closest one to Buck when they all first separated, so he’s the first to reach the bottom of the hill.

The radio crackles and Eddie listens to the static.

“Got—.. Stuck—- out.”

Bucks voice crackles out, hard to decipher over the sounds of raging water around him. Everytime the radio got submerged, the sound cut out, and Eddie could only make out three words of Bucks shouting.

Eddie runs along the edge, until he finally spots Buck. He’s got the girl propped as high as he can, but in return it pushes him under the water, and he bobs up trying to fight the current. Eddie can see him struggling against it, but it’s no use. You can’t swim against a riptide, and Buck knows that.

Bucks lungs burn as he can only take in a small amount of air in the short times his head is above water. Cheryll is shivering and wailing in his arms, but she is conscious, so he considers it a small mercy. Buck is weighed down by his wet gear, and her. It’s pushing him harder into the cold waters that’s dragging him towards the open sea. Buck is trying to swim parallel to the current, but it’s so disorienting when he’s actually in the water and being consumed by the waves. He’s struggling to even find which way the current is working. Everytime he finds it, and prepares to swim parallel, he’s pushed back under water, flipped and tossed around, and by the time he breaks the surface, he has to evaluate it all over again. His helmet had been ripped off by the water long ago. Buck does what he can; keeping Cheryll above water as he waves one of his arms, hoping someone will see him.

Eddie has to work fast to calculate a plan. His eyes land on a fallen tree that reaches out into the water. It’s ahead of Buck, and exactly in the direction he’s being pushed. Eddie sprints to it, running harder than he has in his entire life. He gets onto the tree, and does one test jump to see if it moves. It rocks, but it doesn’t seem to threaten to give way, considering the roots are still partially buried deep in the ground.

Eddie just hopes the rain hasn’t loosened the dirt holding it there.

Eddie loops his tether around the tree, and begins swiftly, but carefully trapezing across it. When he reaches the top, or end of the tree, it drops down into the water. Eddie lays on his stomach, and shuffles the end, his chest shallowly submerged in the water.

“Buck!” He shouts, trying to catch his boyfriend's attention.

Buck tries to shift in the direction of Eddie's faint voice, but it’s hard with the water twisting and turning him.

Eddie sees Buck trying to face him, and he knows that’s the best acknowledgment he’ll get. Eddie sticks his arms out as Buck gets closer, and he watches as Buck and Cheryll drift in his direction. As soon as they’re close enough, Eddie lunges, feebly holding onto the tree as waves crash and push him. Buck manages to stick his hand out. Eddie was grateful to anyone above who was listening as he finally manages to snag Bucks hand as they are about to drift by. Buck's hand encloses around his own. Buck pushes Cheryll towards Eddie, who reaches out to take her. He wraps his other arm around her, and the entire tree creaks.

“Eddie, this tree is about to give. We can’t stabilise it. Bring them in,” Bobby’s voice breaks through the radio.

Eddie uses his free hand to hastily secure Cheryll to him. Once she’s safe, hands free, Eddie pushes his other hand to grab Buck. Before he can secure the second grip on him, a large wave crashes into the tree, and the entire thing shifts. It throws Eddie forward, and straight into the river. He hears Cheryll scream before they hit the water. The pressure in his hand relieves, and Eddie pushes himself to the surface. He grabs the tether, pulls himself up to the tree, which is still unstable. He looks to his other hand, to see that Buck is gone. His glove was still in Eddie’s hand, but Buck's hand was no longer in the glove. It must’ve been ripped out when the wave hit, pulling him back, away, and further towards the open sea.

“Buck!” He screams, his eyes frantically searching the water. He feels someone pulling on his tether, and he sees Chim laid across the tree. Chim begins sliding Eddie’s tether backwards up the tree, towards the base at the shore. It pulls Eddie and Cheryl shallower, and once they’re close enough, Eddie can get his feet planted beneath him in the sand and mud. He hastily walks out of water, fighting with all his strength through the still crashing waves, releasing his tether once he’s certain he’s stable. Eddie hands Cheryll off to Hen, and quickly turns back around to face the water.

“Where is he?” He shouts, walking closer toward the river opening, searching for the familiar blonde.

“He’s made it into the open sea. A chopper is on its way,” Bobby explains, running towards the edge, Eddie quickly following him.

“We don’t have time to wait for them, Cap!” Eddie shouts, choking on his own fear.

“I know,” Bobby acknowledges, his face tight with an emotion Eddie struggles to decipher. He realises it’s poorly masked terror.

Buck's heart drops when his hand slips out of the glove. He could feel the water sweeping him back out, ripping the life out from him. He isn’t fighting it anymore. It’s stupid to try and fight a riptide, and his muscles are too tired. Bucks just trying to keep his head above water. But the water's will is stronger than his. Buck gets pushed under, and this time, he doesn’t bob right back up. His lungs burn, his nose stinging as both are flooded with water. He tries to open his eyes, but the salt in the water makes him shut them again quickly. Everything hurts, and he feels trapped in the thickness of the water. He tries to paddle with his arms, but Buck can’t decipher which way is up or down, left or right. So he stops. Buck stops trying, stops fighting. He lets himself sink further in the water, too tired to fight.

It’s kind of peaceful.

But an image of Eddie flashes in his mind. And then Christopher.

Eddie’s already lost a spouse, and Christopher has already lost a parent. They barely survived it the first time. Is Buck really about to let them endure that again just because he was too tired to keep swimming?

Buck forces his eyes open, fighting the pain it brings. He looks around, black gathering around the edges of his vision, the lack of oxygen starting to get to him. He scans the darkness of the water until he notices light coming from the direction to his side. He manoeuvres himself to face it, and swim towards it. He pushes, fighting with every last ounce of strength he has to get back up there.

To get back to them.

To get back home.

Buck does his best to spit out the water as he bursts through the surface, cold air hitting his skin.

He thought he would feel relieved when he made it back up.

They reach the edge, and Eddie takes a few steps into the water, careful not to go too deep and get swept out to sea.

“There he is!” Eddie shouts, seeing Buck bobbing up and down in the water, his head once in a while breaking above the surface.

Buck is drowning. He’s been underwater for too long, and he can’t stop himself from inhaling. The inhale sucks water deep into his lungs, and he tries to choke, but he can’t underwater. His eyes and nose burn from the salt in the water, and Buck realises he is going to die.

His head bobs up, and he coughs out as much water as he can. He isn’t above the surface long enough to inhale any air, and before he can take a breath, he’s back under the water, drowning again.

Eddie and Bobby get the biggest rope they have out of their packs. They secure it to the closest tree, praying it’s sturdy.

The plan is simple enough; stupid, but simple. But it’s their only choice. Bobby is going to go out to the sea, and swim with the current. He’ll be strapped into this tree. He’ll get out there, get Buck, and secure him to his person. Once Buck is safe, Eddie, and Chim are going to have to use every ounce of strength to pull the two back in, against the current.

Easy enough.

Eddie helps secure Bobby to the rope, and signals him to go. Bobby is quick to run out into the water, forcing himself to stay standing against the crashing waves. Once his feet no longer reach the ground, Bobby swims, pushing himself in the same direction of the current. He keeps his eyes locked on Buck, blinking away the salt water splashing and stinging his eyes. As long as Buck keeps bobbing above water, this reckless plan will work.

Or atleast Bobby prays it will.

Bobby calls out to Buck, but he realises the man can’t hear him over sounds of the rushing water. Bobby finally gets close enough, and he acts quickly, grabbing Bucks arm and pulling him towards himself.

“I got you kid. You’re okay,” Bobby soothes, and Buck finally stops struggling in his hold, and against the water. Bobby hooks one arm under a Bucks, and holds him there as he secures Buck to himself by tying a tether around Bucks waist.

Once secure, Bobby throws his hand up and waves, “Pull us in!”

Eddie and Chimney wait anxiously, holding the rope tensely, watching for the signal. They watch as Bobby finally reaches Buck, and minutes later, he raises his hand; the signal.

“Okay, now! Pull!” Eddie shouts. Him and Chimney both use two hands to pull the rope, leaning backwards to use all their weight. Once Hen deems Cheryll medically stable, she hands her off to her mother, and begins helping.

Bobby doesn’t struggle in the water. He just lets the strength of his team pull them in against the water. Struggling would only make it worse.

It’s hard, and it takes everything they’ve got, but the three of them working together manage to start pulling them in. As soon as Bobby can touch, he plants his feet and continues walking back to land, basically dragging Buck with him.

Once they’re out of the water, he releases the secured rope holding Buck, who instantly collapses to his hands and knees, vomiting up water.

Eddie drops to his knees as well, rubbing soothing circles on Bucks back, “That’s it. Cough it all up, Buck.”

“Guess you can cancel that chopper,” Chim comments, watching anxiously as Buck scrabbles for air while Eddie tries to soothe him through it.

Bucks eyes sting, and his throat burns as the salt water forces its way up, and out of his stomach, and lungs. He coughs on it, and his stomach clenches. Buck swears he’s thrown up basically half of the ocean by now.

After he’s finally empty, he sits back on his knees, hands still planted on the ground, and he just tries to catch his breath.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks, taking the stethoscope that Hen hands him. He replaces his hand on Bucks back with the end of it. He listens to Buck's lungs, and his heart. “I can’t hear any more water; breath sounds are clear. Heart Rate is fast, but steady. Likely anxiety, or adrenaline.”

“Peachy,” Buck groans, his voice gravelly from his abused throat.

“And he’s back, ladies and gentlemen,” Chimney teases, but in reality, they’re all grateful for the familiar sarcasm.

“Cheryll?” Buck asks, and he barely recognizes his voice, considering how scratchy and raw it is.

“She’s safe. You got her,” Hen comforts, and Buck nods, sighing in relief.

“Thank you so much for saving my baby. I can never repay you,” Helen sobs, feeling like it’s an okay time to chime in. Cheryll is held tightly to her chest, wrapped in a warm, dry blanket to combat the cold of the water. They’re all lucky she didn’t get hypothermia, or worse.

“No need,” Buck grunts.

Buck tries to push himself to stand, but his limbs struggle underneath him. Eddie’s quickly by his side, wrapping a supporting arm around his waist.

“Woah, easy there, Batman,” he says, poking fun at Buck's raw, deep voice. “You exhausted yourself out there. I’ll help you back up that hill.”

“Now that I know how nice you are to me, I’m going to be throwing myself into freezing water more often,” Buck jokes, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No way. You do that again, I’ll kill you,” Eddie says, unable to handle another scare like that.

Buck nods in agreement, and they begin walking up the hill.

“Call me Batman one more time, please,” he asks Eddie after a few moments of silence.

“Absolutely not.”

***

The team was settling into their seats at the table, ready to have dinner to close off their 24 hour shift. The rest of the shift had gone smoothly. Minor calls that didn’t pose much risk to them. The only person not happy with the ending was Buck. He had insisted he could stay and work, despite the way Bobby had offered him the rest of the shift off, and the way Eddie had encouraged him to go home and rest.

And now his stubbornness was biting him in the ass.

Buck had been in that freezing water for too long, and now he could feel himself getting sick. He should’ve listened. He should have gone home, and rested. At least then, he would have gotten ahead of this thing before he even felt it. But he had refused, and now the consequences of his own actions were hitting him.

Buck could feel it in his throat. And his nose. And his muscles. And honestly, anywhere else illness gets you.

He sat in his usual place at the table, pushing the spaghetti around with his fork, finding his appetite to be absent.

Buck hadn’t told anyone else he was feeling shitty. He didn’t want to be a bother, and honestly, it wasn’t that bad. Or at least that’s what he continues to tell himself.

He may not be hiding it as well as he thought, though. Buck was wrapped in his own LAFD sweater, and he also had Eddie’s on top of his.

And he was still shivering.

He hadn’t actually asked Eddie to take his sweater. He just took it from his locker, knowing Eddie wouldn’t protest. He was hoping no one would notice that another sweater was hiding beneath it.

Conversation was loud amongst everyone at the table, but Buck couldn’t find it in himself to get very engaged in it. He was a bit distracted by the headache pounding away in his head. He instead stares at his still full plate, praying for the shift to end sooner.

“Are you alright?” Eddie asks, grabbing Bucks attention by putting his hand on Bucks thigh and squeezing gently.

Buck forces a smile onto his face, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too nasally, “Yeah. I’m just tired.”

Eddie nods, but he looks doubtful. Buck really hopes that Eddie can’t tell that he’s lying. “As soon as dinner is done, we’ll leave, okay?” Eddie offers.

Buck nods, and stuffs a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth as an excuse for why he doesn’t respond verbally. He swallows it reluctantly, his throat still sore, and his stomach turning.

Eddie gives him another studying look, and Buck hopes his performance is more convincing than it feels. Eddie finally turns his attention back to the conversation consuming the table, but his hand never leaves Buck's thigh.

Buck is honestly thankful for the warmth, and comfort it provides.

***

The drive home has been rough. Every bump made Buck feel dizzy, and keeping his attention on the road as he was driving had only further exacerbated the headache chipping away at him.

But he still had something to do.

When they pull up to Eddie’s house, Buck doesn’t shut the car off, or make an effort to get out.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, taking his own seatbelt off, noticing that Buck doesn’t do the same.

“I’m just gonna stop by my apartment. I need to get something,” he answers truthfully.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, concerned. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? You look exhausted.”

“No, it’ll be fine. I’ll be quick,” Buck reassures, but honestly it’s partially directed at himself because he wants nothing more than to give in and crawl into bed and sleep for a few days.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Nah, Chris probably misses you, and someone’s gotta relieve Carla. I’ll be back before you know it,” Buck promises, and Eddie nods, not looking convinced.

“If you’re sure. Drive safe, please?” Eddie asks as he gets out of the Jeep, refusing to close the door until Buck agrees.

“I will.”

“Okay, I love you. Text me if you need anything,” Eddie says, eyeing him warily.

Buck forces another smile, and nods. “I love you too. I’ll be right back.”

Buck watches to ensure Eddie gets into the house okay, before starting the familiar drive back to his loft.

He had been waiting weeks, but a video game Chris could not shut up about had finally been delivered today. Buck didn’t want to wait to give it to him, considering how happy Christopher would be. If he waited to give it to Chris because of a little sniffle, then what would that say about him?

He had to get it today, because he was fine.

Buck's limbs felt like jelly as he walked into his apartment, the key heavy in his hands. He was rarely here anymore, considering he practically lived at Eddie’s. And Buck notes as he walks in for the first time in probably months, he doesn’t even miss his own space.

He tries to be quick, considering he just wants to get home to Eddie and into bed. He starts by getting the package off the front door mat, and bringing it inside. He decides while he’s there, he’ll water the few plants he has. He’s proud the few cacti he has around his home are still alive, considering he’s managed to kill three in the past.

Buck slumps into the bed once everything is done, needing just a minute to rest before he leaves. The small actions he did had drained him, and that should’ve been a warning to him of how sick he truly was. But he paid it no mind, because he was going to be fine.

He was always fine.

Until he wasn’t.

Buck didn’t mean to. He had every intention of getting up, and getting back to Eddie’s. But as his tired bones sunk into the bed, he couldn’t stop the sleep that quickly took over him. He was out before he even realised he was falling asleep.

***

Eddie suspected something was up. Buck was acting weird; shifty.

Eddie wasn’t suspicious, thinking Buck was hiding something he shouldn’t be doing.

No. He trusted Buck wholeheartedly.

He was just suspicious that Buck was hiding something he should be telling others. Those were the secrets Buck tended to keep to himself.

Eddie refused to let his concern show on his face as he walked into the door to be greeted by an excited Chris, and a smiling Carla.

“Hey Bud,” Eddie greets when Chris walks up to hug him. “Hi Carla, I hope he hasn’t given you any trouble.”

“This kid? He could never,” Carla reassures, beaming at Christopher, who smiles at Eddie proudly.

“You hear that, dad?” Christopher says, and Eddie can hear the teasing tone in his son's voice.

“She just hasn’t seen the monster you become when you're tired,” he counters, and Chris makes an indignant sound.

“Where’s Buck?” Carla asks, shaking her head at the two in front of her.

“He just ran to grab something from his apartment. He’ll be back soon,” Eddie explains, being reminded of Buck's peculiar behaviour. “You want to stay for dinner?” He offers.

“Well, I’m never one to turn down a free meal,” Carla says, and he smiles.

“Good, I’ll see what I have in the fridge.”

Their great dinner ends up being frozen chicken strips and fries. But no one complains because that was all there was in the house other than crackers, and an apple. Tomorrow, Eddie swore he was going to go grocery shopping.

Throughout dinner, Eddie frequently checked his phone while Chris and Carla engaged in excited chatter.

“Everything okay?” Carla asks, noticing his nervous behaviour throughout the entire dinner.

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie says, dropping the phone like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I’m just wondering where Buck is.”

He stares at the screen, and his half dozen unanswered messages he had sent to Buck over the past hour and a half. Eddie didn’t want to be the overbearing boyfriend, but this was abnormal for Buck. That phone was either glued to his hand, or in his pocket. And he should’ve been back now. His apartment wasn’t that far away, and he’s had plenty of time to complete the mystery errand he swore would be quick.

And if it was going to take longer than expected, Buck would have texted Eddie to tell him so.

“Is he okay?” Christopher asks, and Eddie instantly feels stupid for worrying his son when he’s probably just being paranoid.

“Oh yeah, Christopher. He probably just got distracted, or busy,” Eddie explains, but he hears how feeble it sounds.

“Why don’t you go check on him? Me and Chris can handle the clean up, isn’t that right?” Carla offers, turning to look at the young boy.

“It’s your turn to wash the dishes. I get to dry,” Chris says, and Carla chuckles.

“Deal, but I will get to dry next time.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Eddie says, grateful to have someone like Carla for support. She’s definitely become a permanent member of their little family, and she’s someone Eddie can lean on when he needs to. He’ll never be able to express just how thankful he is for everything she does for him, and Christopher.

Eddie gets up, grabbing his wallet and keys, and heads out to the truck. His hands tap against the steering wheel anxiously the entire drive.

He’s quick walking up to Buck's front door. He’s thrumming with anxious anticipation. He just needs to know what’s wrong, because it’s Buck, and that almost always means something has gone wrong.

Eddie doesn’t bother knocking, going straight for his key instead. He doesn’t want to disturb whatever’s waiting for him on the inside, and his mind automatically assumes the worst. Maybe Buck’s laying on his floor, choking on his own blood because he developed another clot, and no one knew. Or maybe he’s been attacked, and left for dead after they robbed him of everything he has.

Eddie has to shake his head, and dismiss the ideas. There has to be a more reasonable explanation. Or at least he hopes there is.

He creaks the door open slowly, slightly relieved to see that the lights are on. He takes that as a sign that Buck at least made it into the apartment. Now Eddie just needs to figure out if he made it out.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to draw a conclusion. There’s a sound filling the room that tells him everything he needs to know. Buck isn’t choking on his own blood, nor was he robbed, and he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere because he’s right here on the bed, fast asleep.

Eddie walks up to him, listening to Bucks usually loud snoring that’s enhanced further by obvious nasal congestion. He looks down to see Buck curled into himself, sweating, yet sickly pale as snot drips from his nose.

Eddie sighs in relief, though he doesn’t feel that relieved. He had been right. Buck was hiding something from him. It wasn’t some life altering secret, but he still kept it from Eddie.

Buck was sick, and didn’t tell him. And Eddie hadn’t noticed.

Eddie takes in the sight before him, guilt pumping through his veins knowing he didn’t catch on. And considering how sick Buck looks now, it wasn’t something he could’ve easily hidden.

Eddie reaches down, and gently places the back of his hand on Buck's forehead.

Just as he was expecting; Bucks feverish, which is unsurprising, considering the sweat dripping down his temple.

Buck stirs at the contact, and slowly opens his eyes to see Eddie looking down at him, hands on his hips. His stance may have been disappointed, but Eddie’s face was soft, and wrinkled with concern.

“Ed’s?” Buck asks quietly, voice rough. He pushes himself to sit up, groaning because his muscles ache, his head is throbbing, and his world is tilting. And he’s confused, because why is he in his loft? And why is Eddie looking at him like that?

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks gently. Too gently, and Buck knows he fucked up somewhere.

“What do you mean?” Buck asks sluggishly, looking around as if he’d find some clues. In all honesty, he wants to ask Eddie the same question, because he doesn’t know what’s going on either.

“You were supposed to be home a while ago. I was worried,” Eddie explains, sitting down next to Buck on the bed, and nudging his shoulder gently with his own.

Buck groans, and lets his head fall into his hands. He remembers now. He made a mistake.

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” Buck stammers out, head still cradled in his own hands.

“I’d say that hypothesis is right,” Eddie says sarcastically. “Why didn’t you tell me you're sick?”

So Buck was obvious. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“What?”

Shit.

“I didn’t think I needed to say anything because it wasn’t that bad,” Buck tries to quickly defend, covering up his slip up.

“You have a fever,” Eddie says, leaning over to Buck to pull his hands from his face, and cups his cheeks to turn Buck to face him. “And it always matters when you’re sick. You can always tell me because I always want to know.”

“It’s probably just a little cold.”

“I doubt that. We should take you to a doctor,” Eddie says, letting go of Buck's face, who instantly misses the contact. “I mean, I know Hen cleared you, but she couldn’t have predicted this.”

“No, it’s fine. It’ll pass with some sleep,” Buck dismisses, his entire body fighting to lay back down and sleep.

“How long have you been sick?” Eddie sighs, turning to look Buck in the eyes, and Buck wants to shrink under the stare.

Eddie looks sad. And his eyes reflect that of disappointment. But Buck doesn’t feel like Eddie’s disappointed in him. It feels like something more.

“Maybe a few hours.”

Eddie nods slowly, taking it in like it’s a hard pill to swallow.

“Are you mad?” Buck asks hesitantly, unsure of what to do with the silence, and that damned look on Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s quick to answer, a frown falling on his face. “What? No-, you think I’m mad at you for getting sick?”

Buck shrugs, unsure of what else to say. He knows the question sounds stupid, but he’s at a loss. And it made sense to him, because his parents used to get annoyed when he was sick. They’d care for maybe a few hours, and then act like it was his own fault. But based on Eddie’s reaction to a question Buck believed to be simple, that was not the right thing to believe.

Eddie sighs, probably seeing something in Buck's face that clarifies something for him. Buck isn’t sure what.

“I'm just-, I don’t know. I wish you told me Buck. You didn’t need to suffer in silence,” Eddie finally says, looking like he’s stopping himself from saying more.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Buck tries to reassure, but considering the way Eddie tenses, he realises it was the wrong thing to say.

“It is to me,” Eddie is quick to say. He puts his hand on Buck's shoulder, and squeezes gently, making sure their eyes connect. “Everything about you is a big deal to me because it’s you. I want to know what’s going on with you, and when something is wrong. I want to take care of you.”

“It’s really just the sniffles,” Buck says, having to avert his eyes from Eddie. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“It’s not some burden to take care of you. Evan-,” Eddie starts, and Buck knows he reallly fucked up because Eddie only ever uses his first name when he’s really trying to get a point across, or when he’s really worried, “-I want to take care of you because I love you. It’s the same as when you want to take care of me, or Chris, or frankly, anyone in the 118 because you love us. It’s not some chore. You aren’t some chore.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say, his throat feeling tight. “I will tell you next time.”

“Damn right you will,” Eddie mutters, more so to himself, as he begins fussing over Buck. He checks Bucks' temperature one more time using his wrist. Then he seems to be staring into his eyes.

Not in a romantic way.

In a medic evaluation way.

“I’m fine,” Buck reassures.

“If you say that one more time, you’re really going to need a doctor.”

Buck doesn’t protest anymore. It feels nice to be taken care of, not that he would ever admit that. He lets his eyes close and he leans against the couch. He hears Eddie get up, and walk away from the bed. Buck doesn’t open his eyes to check, considering he’s just trying to will this terrible headache away.

“I just have two more questions,” Eddie says, sitting back down while placing a glass of water in front of Buck on the side table. “Drink.”

Buck opens his eyes, and leans forward, getting a rush of dizziness as he moves. He grabs the cup and takes a few sips under Eddie’s watchful eye. “Shoot.”

“One, what did you even come here to get? Were you hiding?” Eddie asks, putting his hand in Buck's hair, massaging gently.

Buck leans into the touch and huffs, “That’s two questions already.

“Doesn’t count when it’s in relation to the same thing.”

“I ordered that game Chris has been talking about. I got a notification that it was delivered,” Buck explains, pointing at the kitchen counter where the package still sits. Buck lets his head slump into Eddie’s shoulder, exhaling in relaxation as Eddie adjusts his position to keep his hand in Buck's hair.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to surprise him.”

“Thank you,” Eddie mutters, happy he’s found someone that loves his son almost as much as him. “You spoil him too much.”

Buck chuckles, “His smile is worth it.”

And Eddie agrees.

“What’s the second ‘second’ question?”

“As I said before, that one didn’t count,” Eddie defends. “I just wanted to know why you're wearing my sweater?”

Buck looks down, completely forgetting about the two sweaters he has on. “Oh, I was cold.”

“Not that I’m complaining, considering how much I love seeing you in my clothes, but you do know you have your own?”

“I’m wearing that one too,” Buck mutters, pulling the sleeve of Eddie’s sweater back to reveal a matching one beneath it.

“Ay, dios mío,” Eddie mutters to himself. He hates himself for not noticing how badly Buck must’ve been feeling. “You can have as many of my clothes as you want, but let’s get home, yeah?”

“Technically, I am home,” Buck sasses, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“If you keep that attitude up, I’m gonna leave you here to fend for yourself,” Eddie threatens. “You know what I mean smartass. Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Buck grunts, standing up. He hopes he hides the way he stumbles, world tilting. Eddie puts an arm around his waist, guiding him strongly to the door. “Wow, pushy,” Buck mutters, and Eddie gives him a gentle push to accentuate the teasing.

“You love it.”

“Yes, because you have totally heard me say how much I love being manhandled,” Buck says sarcastically.

“You didn’t need to tell me,” Eddie mocks. “You make it pretty obvious.”

“What do you mean by that?” Buck asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t think you want the answer,” Eddie smirks, and Buck slaps his shoulder at the implication.

“Okay, I don’t think I need you for this,” Buck says, rolling his eyes.

“Okay fine. You can get to the car on your own,” Eddie says, letting go. He watches Buck stumble for a minute at the loss of support, before swooping back in to hold him up. “Next time, put your money where your mouth is.”

“You caught me off guard.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Eddie drawls.

“Wait,” Buck says, pushing himself off of Eddie. He walks over to the counter to get the video game, because otherwise, all of this would’ve been for nothing. He scoops up his car keys, and Eddie puts his hand up to protest.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting my keys? Is that allowed?”

“Not if you intend on driving.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to get the jeep back to the house?” Buck asks, and Eddie takes the keys.

“You look like you’re about to keel over. I’ll worry about the car later. Let’s just get home for now,” Eddie says, opening the front door. Buck sighs, skin itching.

He hates feeling helpless.

***

Buck feels like he’s about to collapse when they finally make it to the house. He hadn’t even realised that he had fallen asleep against the car window. He’s abruptly woken up when the door he is leaning on opens, and he almost falls sideways, the seatbelt stopping him from shifting too far.

“Jesus Christ-, sorry. You okay?” Eddie asks, his hands sprung up to catch Buck as soon as he realised he was falling.

“Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Buck mutters, feeling disoriented.

“Don’t apologise for that. Let’s just wait until you make it into the house this time, got it?” Eddie says, helping Buck stumble out of the car. Buck can’t stop himself from leaning heavily against Eddie, who is quick to support him.

“Take it easy, Buck,” Eddie mutters, moving his hand to check Buck's temperature again. He sighs. Bucks even hotter than he was before, which is not a good sign because he was already feverish.

“I am,” Buck replies, doing his best to keep his eyes open, which are rapidly drooping closed.

“I don’t think you understand the meaning of those words,” Eddie grunts, hauling them both up the porch and to the front door.

He gets the door open, and Chris and Carla step into the foyer to greet them.

“Hey Bu-, what’s wrong with him?” Chris asks, looking at Buck slumped against his dad.

Carla looks over Buck and Eddie, and takes in Buck's sickly complexion. “Why don’t we get ready for bed? Dad will tuck you in once we’re ready, okay?” Carla offers, and Eddie shoots her a grateful nod for the excuse.

“Hi Chris,” Buck slurs.

“Actually, Eddie, how about you help Chris get ready, and me and Buck will have a quick visit,” Carla suggests, and Eddie hesitates before agreeing.

“You good?” He turns to Buck, who nods.

Eddie lets go of Buck, and Buck leans against the wall on his other side. He’s just so tired. And so weak.

“Hi Buckaroo,” she greets when Chris and Eddie walk away.

He hears her tone, and frowns, “Am I in trouble?”

“You tell me. Are you drunk?” She asks, taking in his sweating, unsteadiness, and slurred speech.

“What?”

“You’re not the type to be drunk in front of your kid, knowing how much Christopher admires you. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Carla asks, helping to support and guide Buck to Eddie’s bedroom.

“I’m not drunk,” he tries to explain, still fighting the overwhelming urge to sleep.

“Then what’s going on?”

“I’m sick,” Buck mutters, feeling ashamed, or even embarrassed.

“Sick? Eddie didn’t tell us you were sick.”

“That’s ‘cuz I didn’t tell him,” Buck explains as Carla helps him sit on the bed. She puts her hand to his forehead, the same way Eddie had before, and tsks.

“Sugar, you are burning up. What the hell were you doing out?”

“I had to get Chris’ game.”

“Are you stupid? All this for a game?” Carla sighs. Buck shrugs.

“When are you going to stop being reckless?” She asks.

“I don’t need the spiel, Carla. I’ve got it memorised,” Buck groans, flopping to lay down, too tired to keep himself sitting up anymore.

“And I’m not gonna give you the firefighter spiel. I’m going to give you the worried friend spiel.”

Buck sighs. This was not helping his headache.

“You need to stop putting everyone before yourself,” Carla sighs, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Yep, that’s from the other spiel. Same line,” Buck explains tiredly. “I have to. It’s my job.”

“No, this isn’t. You weren’t at work. This wasn’t some fire. You chose to go out, knowing you were sick. You need to stop prioritising everything over yourself, Buck,” Carla comforts. “I watched you do it with Abby. I watched you do it with work. I’m tired of seeing it, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t respond, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress.

“Just remember you matter too, Buck. You have worth,” Carla says, and he swallows thickly, feeling dumb.

Buck doesn’t get a chance to respond, even though he has no clue what to say, because he’s saved by the bell.

Eddie knocks on the door. “Am I interrupting?”

“Of course not. Buck here seems to have developed the flu, or some sort of cold,” Carla says, switching the topic to his health to take the focus off of his bad habits. Buck is really grateful.

“Yeah, did he tell you he got stuck in a freezing river yesterday?” Eddie asks, walking to the master bathroom attached to the bedroom to grab the thermometer.

“No, he didn’t,” Carla sighs, turning to look at him accusingly. “That’ll do it, though.”

Buck closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see her disappointed stare, but he can still feel the weight of it.

“Open up,” Eddie says, and Buck groans. He opens his mouth to let Eddie slip the thermometer under his tongue.

“You know those have been retired for ages now. They make better thermometers,” Carla teases, looking at the glass thermometer she hasn’t used at work in a long time.

“Eddie doesn’t trust ‘advanced’ technology much,” Buck says, and Eddie grunts.

“Hey, keep your mouth shut. Can’t let all the hot air out before it tells you your temp.”

“Okay, I get that. But really? You're scared of a thermometer?” Carla says, laughing at Eddie’s offended look.

“I am not scared of a thermometer,” Eddie defends. “I just haven’t had a need for a new one. I will get one tomorrow.”

“He’s just putting a brave face on for you Carla. Don’t believe him,” Buck says, and Eddie puts his hand on Buck's jaw and closes it again.

“What did I just say?” Eddie groans, keeping his hand on Bucks jaw, and Buck holds his hands up in surrender.

After a few more moments of waiting, Eddie pulls the thermometer out of Bucks mouth.

“102… I think,” Eddie sighs, squinting at the red filling in the glass, trying to determine what number it’s at. He leans it towards Carla, who begins squinting at it too. “What would you say that reads?”

“I would say-,” she says, trying her best to read it, “-That this thermometer is from the stone age.”

“Really? How helpful,” Eddie mutters, pulling it back up to his eye to try, and get a better reading.

“I’m just teasing you. I’d say 102 is right,” Carla says laughing, and it pulls a phlegmy chuckle from Buck too.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs, the concern in his voice obvious. “You-,” he points a stern finger at Buck, “-Are getting into bed right now.”

“Yes captain,” Buck says, giving a pretty crappy salute.

Carla chuckles to herself. She pats Buck's knee gently before standing up, before speaking to Eddie. “You seem to have everything under control here. You okay?”

“Yes, sorry-. Thanks for everything Carla,” Eddie stumbles through the words, feeling a bit overwhelmed, hugging her quickly. She nods, and smiles at him gently.

“You’re doing great, Eddie.”

At the door, she turns to Buck for one final word, “Remember what I said, Buck.”

“What’d she say?” Eddie asks, walking over to the closet once Carlas gone.

“Just to get lots of fluids,” Buck quickly lies. He doesn’t want to delve into the truth with Eddie because frankly, it’s a sensitive topic.

His skin burns, and everything feels too fast when people want to talk about his worth, and his value. It all sounded so fake. He didn’t want to listen to lies, and hastily made lectures that were supposed to invoke some weird, newly motivated positivity in him.

It was all just a scam.

And Buck was sick of the same speeches, and lectures that just went in one ear, and out the other. It made him feel stupid; they talked to him like a child who didn’t know any better. And Buck admits, sometimes he acts like one. But he did know better. That just didn’t matter to him.

Their words felt like water to a drowning man.

Useless.

Buck could use the same word to describe himself.

“Smart woman.”

Eddie pulls out a pair of his own shorts, and another one of his hoodies, handing it off to Buck.

“Are you okay getting dressed?” Eddie asks, stripping his own shirt off.

“I think I can get changed on my own. I am an adult,” Buck jokes.

“Don’t get cocky. You can barely walk without stumbling,” Eddie reminds him.

Buck begins changing as Eddie switches his jeans out for a plaid pair of pyjama pants. Buck gets up and stretches, groaning as it pulls on his sore limbs.

Buck begins grabbing the pillow from his side of bed, and walking to the door.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, watching confused as Buck pauses like he got caught.

“Oh, umm. I was just going to the couch,” Buck says, his voice sounding weak.

“Why?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms, looking at Buck confused. He’s not picking up on the thought process going through Bucks head.

“Well, I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks, surprised.

Buck shrugs, and Eddie is starting to realise that Buck does it every time he feels cornered, or ashamed.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious. Is it me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“No. No!” Buck is quick to reassure. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“You really think I’m going to let you sleep on the couch while you're sick?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“I don’t mind,” Buck says. Eddie walks up to him, and wraps his arms around Buck's waist. Buck tries to squirm back, and keep his face away from Eddie’s to prevent spreading any germs.

Eddie lifts one hand to grab Buck's jaw, and forces Buck to face him. Once their eyes meet, Eddie crashes their lips together, and makes a point to involve tongue in this kiss. When he finally pulls back, Eddie licks his lips, and smiles.

“There. I’m definitely exposed now.”

“That was certainly one way to prove a point,” Buck hums.

“I like my methods.”

“Did that really feel like your smartest idea? Now you’re definitely going to get sick, when sleeping in the same bed was just a maybe,” Buck teases.

“Maybe not my brightest move,” Eddie concedes, a sheepish look on his face.

“Yeah, definitely not.”

Eddie swoops back in, connecting their lips again. Buck moans into the kiss, and Eddie swallows the sound. It’s absolutely intoxicating. Buck bites at his lips, causing his mouth to open, giving Bucks tongue entrance. The kiss is fast, and fierce. Their tongues clash, and spit smears a bit onto their cheeks. Eddie’s hand moves from Buck's jaw and he spreads his fingers out into the blonde's hair, and he pulls gently, which tugs another groan from Buck.

As much as Buck doesn’t want to, he can’t breathe, and his nose is stuffed. He pushes Eddie back, gasping for air. He can only describe the way Eddie looks right now as downright sex appeal. Shirtless, pants hanging low on his hips, lips bitten, and kiss swollen. It’s a sight he wants to commit to memory and never forget. That is what he wants to see when his eyes close.

“What was that for?” Buck pants, out of breath. Both from the kiss, and the most breathtaking man he’s ever seen in front of him.

“Good measure,” Eddie says, before leaving Buck to get into bed. He lays down and turns his head to admire the view behind him. Buck is standing, breathless, and dumbfounded in Eddie's clothes, the pillow dropped from his hand to the floor.

“Are you going to join me?” Eddie asks, and Buck's jaw finally picks up off the floor. He scrambles to grab the pillow and practically jumps into the bed. Eddie laughs, watching Buck sink into the bed, exhaustion taking over. Eddie scoots closer to him, and wraps an arm around Bucks waist, pulling his back to Eddie’s chest. As Buck settles against him, Eddie kisses the back of his neck.

“Goodnight Buckley, feel better tomorrow.”

Buck is asleep before he can respond.

***

If Buck thought he felt like shit yesterday, then he definitely did not know what was coming in the morning.

As he wakes up, he can’t stop the groan from leaving him. The room around him is spinning, and harsh pain is piercing into his skull.

Shivers wrack his body, and he forces his eyes open. Buck is instantly hit with a wave of nausea he tries his best to suppress.

His efforts aren’t good enough.

Buck springs to his feet, running into the bathroom. His knees hit the linoleum floor hard, and he’s barely stopped moving before he’s retching harshly into the toilet.

His throat burns, and tears roll down his face from the stinging. He coughs and gags, spitting out everything that comes up. Not that he had much to eat anyways.

After what feels like hours, he’s finally done, stomach clenching with the taste of stomach acid leftover in his mouth. He sighs, and leans his sweaty forehead on the porcelain toilet seat, not caring how gross it is. He flops his hand up to flush the toilet, groaning. Shivers still wrack Buck's body, and the cold sweat isn’t helping.

Eddie’s going to regret lending him his sweater.

*

Eddie was at the table with Chris. Christopher was eating eggs Eddie had made him, while Eddie had a bagel. He’d set some eggs aside for Buck, but he didn’t want to wake him. They weren’t supposed to work until this evening, but Eddie doubted Buck would be better. He texted Bobby to warn him in advance, but didn’t fully confirm it as he held out hope sleep would’ve made Buck feel better.

“Is Buck feeling better?” Christopher asks. Eddie had explained last night while putting Chris to bed that Buck was sick, and not feeling well. Chris was disappointed, but understood.

“I’m not sure. He’s still asleep. And I’m not going to wake him up.”

“I’m surprised I can’t hear him snoring,” Chris comments, and it rings an alarm bell in Eddie’s head.

“Yeah, you're right,” He says, realising he hasn’t heard Bucks snoring for a while. He’s probably awake.

Eddie and Chris finish their breakfast, small chatter being exchanged between the two of them.

“Go put your shoes on. I’ll meet you at the door in a minute,” Eddie says, ruffling Chris’ hair and picking up the empty dishes. Chris nods, going to get ready, while Eddie puts them in the sink.

Eddie walks into the bedroom, and is surprised to see Buck out of bed, practically shuffling out of the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks hesitantly. Judging by Bucks complexion, the answer is no.

Buck is pale, other than the bright flush in his cheeks. His face is sunken in, and his eye bags are a dark contrast to his white skin. The appearance makes his bloodshot eyes pop. Eddie can see the sweat from here, and his legs look unstable, like one strong wind could blow him over.

“Better, actually,” Buck huffs, wobbling over to the closet.

“You look like hell.” Eddie knows he’s lying.

“Well, don’t you know how to make a guy feel special,” Buck grunts, his voice hoarse.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, watching Buck dig through his clothes. “Uh-uh, no way. Sweetheart, you need to get back in that bed.”

“I’m fine.”

“Obviously, you’re not,” Eddie says, walking up to put his hands on Bucks shoulders. “Buck, you smell like vomit. You need to get back into bed.”

“Jesus. Do I really?” Buck sighs, sniffing himself to try and smell what Eddie’s smelling. But he can’t smell anything through the blockage of snot.

“I can smell it on your breath,” Eddie explains, trying to remain gentle despite the way his frustrations are growing. Buck continues to lie, and Eddie just can’t understand why.

“I’ll brush my teeth,” Buck mutters, turning to the bathroom, but Eddie puts a firm hand on his chest to stop him.

“Get in that bed,” he says sternly. “You need to relax for once in your goddamn life.”

“Eddie, seriously, I’m-,” Buck tries to get around Eddie, but Eddie makes himself a strong wall, blocking him.

“If you say ‘I’m fine’ one more time, I might have to punch you.”

“Hot,” Buck smirks.

“There's something wrong with you,” Eddie shakes his head. He points at the bed, but Buck doesn’t budge. “Okay, you brought this on yourself.”

Before Buck even has a moment to think, Eddie is throwing him over his shoulder, and bringing him to the bed. If it were any other moment, Buck would think the action was extremely sexy, but now, it just makes him even more dizzy.

Eddie throws him onto the bed as gently as possible, and Buck groans.

“I told you that you like being manhandled.”

Buck sighs, not even trying to get up, “Isn't it time to take Christopher to school?”

“Shit,” Eddie curses, looking at his watch. “You, get into that bed. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck mutters, sinking into the bed. Eddie kisses his sweaty hair, and drags the garbage can to sit next to the bed, in case Buck gets sick again. Eddie’s satisfied with that, and goes to meet Christopher in the hallway, where he was waiting with his shoes and backpack on.

“Bucks awake?”

“Yeah, Buddy. He’s still feeling pretty sick though,” Eddie explains his absence. “Come on, we're gonna be late.”

“And whose fault is that?” Chris teases.

“Let’s blame Buck,” Eddie says, since the blonde wasn’t there to defend his honour.

“I’m telling him you said that.”

***

Eddie was in the truck, circling the school parking lot after dropping Chris off. He makes his way to the exit when his phone rings. It plays loudly over the car speakers, cutting off the music. Bobby’s contact pops up on the screen, and Eddie accepts the call.

“Eddie.”

“Bobby, I was actually just about to call you. Just as we assumed, Buck is still sick. He won’t be coming to his shift tonight.”

“I know he’s still sick.”

“Oh he already called you?” Eddie asks, surprised Buck took the initiative of admitting it. “Good. That makes my job a bit easier than.”

“No, he didn’t call me,” Bobby says, and now Eddie’s just extremely confused.

“What? Then how do-?”

“I need you to come to the firehouse, Eddie. Now,” Bobby emphasises the last word.

“What going on, cap? What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, taken aback by the request, before he remembers the original question. “How’d you know Buck is still sick?”

“Because he’s here, sweating on my ladder truck.”

***

Buck knew he had maybe five minutes before Eddie was going to burst through the entrance, angry. And even that time is a generous estimate.

He knew Bobby would snitch on him, which is why he tried to hide from the captain.

Buck's plan of secrecy, and laying low lasted all but four minutes before Ravi ruined everything.

Buck had been sitting on one of the changing room benches, waiting. He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was, but so far he had come up with this: hide out in here like a fugitive until his shift started, charm Eddie into forgiving him for running away, make a miraculous recovery, and everyone will let him do his job in peace.

Easy enough.

Buck heard the door open, and he held his breath, until he heard the footsteps. They weren’t strong or comfortable like Bobby’s. They were clumsy, and timid, much like a certain Probie Buck had grown to like.

He wasn’t going to like him for much longer after he ruined everything.

“Buck? What are you doing here? I thought you were home sick,” Ravi asks, and Buck cringes, because why did the kid have to be so freaking loud.

Maybe he wasn’t that loud. Maybe the headache chipping away at Buck's brain from every angle was making him a tad bit sensitive. And a tad bit irritable.

“Damnit, Ravi! Keep it down!” Buck says, getting to his feet to peek out the door to make sure no one heard. He sways on his feet, and almost falls over as the dizziness wins, but Ravi steadies him by his shoulders.

“God, you look terrible. Are you sure you should be here?” Ravi asks, and Buck knows the only reason it’s posed as a question and not an order is because Ravi hadn’t built the confidence yet to directly challenge a senior firefighter.

“I’m fine,” Buck dismisses. “Fires don’t take a day off, so neither do I.”

“Cap was gonna get the shift covered. You don’t have to worry about it,” Ravi says, because he still chooses to have faith in Buck, and believes he’s smart enough to know when to call it quits.

He’s probably the only person in the entire LAFD, if not all of Los Angeles, who still had that faith.

“It’s fine,” Buck grunts, losing patience for what feels like an interrogation. He recognizes Ravi’s intentions, and appreciates the thought, but he really wants him to take that concern somewhere else.

Right on time, a new wave of dizziness hits Buck, and the world tilts. Or as he quickly realises, he tilts. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning to the side, and Ravi is quick to grab his arm to keep him from crashing to the ground.

“Seriously, Buck. Let’s just sit down,” Ravi says, trying to guide Buck back to the benches.

Buck shrugs his arm off, pulling away. “Let it go Ravi. I’m good.”

He sees Ravi ready to give him another protest, and he can’t handle it. Buck goes through the door, before quickly regretting it, realising he’s exposed himself to the rest of the firehouse and their prying eyes.

His plan is crumbling into pieces much faster than he anticipated.

He scans the area, and quickly decides on a new plan. He hustles to one of the engines, fighting to not just fall over, or pass out. He’s out of breath, and sweating like he ran a marathon. The idea to lick his wounds and surrender flashes in his mind for a second, but he shakes the thought away.

He’s fine.

Buck picks up a towel, and makes himself busy. Or atleast look busy, considering the towel is dry, and the spot he's at is clean. But this is Bucks only option.

Hide in plain sight.

“Buck?”

Son of a bitch.

“Bobby,” Buck says, forcing a chuckle as he turns to face the man who looks at him a bit smugly. He makes sure he doesn’t sway in front of Bobby, hoping it helps to maintain his facade. “How was your night?”

“Better than yours from what I heard. Thought you were sick?” Bobby says, crossing his arms over his chest, and raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Buck knows he could just confess now, and cut his losses, but he’s in too deep. He decides to keep the charade going. He just prays he’s convincing someone.

“Oh yeah. I was just overly tired. Y’know how it is?”

“Uh-huh. You still sound a little congested though,” Bobby says. “Why’s that?”

“Allergies,” Buck quickly spits out. And he mentally slaps himself, considering it’s the middle of September, and seasonal allergies are pretty low during this time of year. Nor has he ever suffered from allergies.

“Oh really? That must be annoying,” Bobby says, and Buck can’t tell if there was actually a hint of sarcasm in those words, or if he was just paranoid.

“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?” Buck says shrugging, forcing a laugh to try and make it seem like he’s accepted these struggles.

“I get it,” Bobby says, but his eyes land on something behind Buck's head. “But I think you’re about to have bigger problems.”

“Estás loco? Tonto del culo!” Eddie’s angry voice echoes out into the firehouse, and Buck cringes.

“You tattled on me?” he asks, looking at Bobby accusingly.

“You need to go home, Buck. You’re unwell,” Bobby says. Buck does his best to resist the urge to roll his eyes like a bratty teenager, but he can’t stop himself from giving into the temptation.

“When did you even call him? You’ve been talking to me this whole time.”

“Please, give me a little more credit. You think you're going to sneak into my house, unnoticed?”

“I mean, yeah. I thought I did,” Buck says, and Bobby chuckles.

“Buck, I was upstairs. I saw you the moment you walked in, before you made a beeline for the change room,” Bobby explains, obviously getting too much joy out of this.

Buck curses, knowing his plan was foiled from the moment he got here.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eddie demands, stomping up to the pair. Buck turns around sheepishly, his face instantly met with a harsh Eddie Diaz glare.

“Don’t be mad,” Buck says, holding his hands up in surrender.

Eddie’s nostrils flare. “‘Don’t be mad?’ Malparido! How did you even get here? You didn’t even have the jeep!”

Buck hesitates before confessing, suspecting that his answer will just anger Eddie further. “Uber.”

His suspicions were correct.

“Uber? I can’t-,” Eddie says incredulously. “I left you alone for 10 minutes! Not even! And I get a call from Bobby saying you’re here? What the hell, Buck?”

“I was trying to prove that I’m fine to work.”

“God-,” Eddie groans, scrubbing his hands on his face before continuing. “You are sick, Buck! This is crazy! You need to get home, now!”

“I'm already here, Eddie, and I’ve been fine! I can do my shift!” Buck tries to defend, but Eddie literally holds a hand up to silence him, the way a parent would to an insufferable child.

“No! No, I don’t want to hear it! Get in the truck!” Eddie shouts, pointing to the exit.

Buck sighs, knowing there’s no point in fighting when Eddie’s like this. He shoot’s one last helpless glance at Bobby, who shakes his head.

“Sorry kid. I’m on his side.”

“Thank you, Cap. At least someone is reasonable,” Eddie hisses, staring at Buck as he begins stumbling his way to the doors. Despite his anger, Eddie keeps a hand on Bucks lower back, helping to stabilise his unsteady steps.

“I’ll be back for my shift later, Bobby. Alone,” Eddie says, looking pointedly at Buck when he says it.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie. Your task tonight is to stay with the flight risk and nurse him back to health,” Bobby says, watching as a little bit of the tension leaves Eddie’s body. He’s obviously relieved to be able to keep an eye on Buck.

“Thank you, Cap. I really appreciate it. Call me if you need me,” Eddie says.

“Call me too!” Buck shouts, turning around to face Bobby one more time, but the movement sends another wave of nausea through him, and he stumbles.

“Don’t call him!” Eddie shouts, fully wrapping his arm around Buck, putting himself directly at the taller man’s side to help him walk out.

As Eddie and Buck make their way to the truck, Eddie doesn’t say anything to Buck. What he does is much scarier. He mutters to himself in Spanish. Buck recognizes a few words, mainly the swears, but many of them get lost on him. Eddie got like this when he was really mad, and Buck knew he made a big mistake. He just really needed to prove that he was still helpful, even while sick.

Why couldn’t anyone seem to understand that?

Eddie helps Buck into the truck, before marching over to get into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Eddie-.”

“Hear that? Cap called you a flight risk. That’s your new name.”

“Could I just-.”

“Nope. No way, Flight Risk. I don’t want any of your excuses,” Eddie cuts him off. He shoves the keys into the transmission, turning harder than he intended. He pauses and sighs, willing some of the anger to seep out of him.

“How long are you going to call me that?” Buck finally asks for a moment, and the words are followed by a deep, phlegm filled cough. Eddie can’t help but laugh, because Buck can only make it through one sentence before he’s coughing up a lung, but he still wanted to work.

It was crazy. It was the actions of an idiot.

“As long as it’s true. How long are you gonna be a flight risk? I mean, do I need to tie you down and watch you twenty four seven until you're finally ready to go back to work?” Eddie asks, exasperation clear in his voice.

“I’m ready now!” Buck tries to say.

“No! No you’re not!” Eddie shouts, turning to look at Buck with both anger and concern swirled together into a vicious mix. “You’re body is telling you to stop! You’re sick! Accept it, Buck! Give yourself time to heal.”

“I don’t have time!” Buck says, voice bordering on desperate.

Eddie’s features soften, and he takes a deep breath. “Jesus Christ-, Love, I’m sorry. I’m trying not to yell at you.”

“You’re failing.”

“You’re not making it easy!” Eddie argues, frustrations pouring out. “I’m worried about you!”

“You don’t need to be!” Buck says, and Eddie sighs.

“I do! I don’t know what I have to do to get you to just take the night off? It’s one shift, Buck. No one will replace you within that time.”

“I know-,” Buck starts to say.

“I don’t think you do,” Eddie interrupts. “Baby, everyone is going to be there waiting for you to get back. Can’t you just give yourself one night to try and get over whatever virus this is?”

“I’d rather just work,” Buck says, his voice feeble.

“I know. But you can’t right now. It wouldn’t be safe,” Eddie explains as gently as he can with the anger still humming in his veins. “Can you please just take a break?”

“Fine,” Buck relents, but he’s not happy with the agreement. And Eddie knows it.

But he doesn’t want to push it, so he takes it as a success.

The car is silent, air tense as Eddie puts it into reverse and pulls out of the parking lot.

Despite the anger surrounding them, Buck moves his hand to rest on Eddie’s thigh as the other man drives, signalling that they would be okay.

***

Buck felt like he was practically twitching in this bed, on the verge of insanity. It’s like he’s going through withdrawal from the adrenaline he receives everyday at work. He needs his daily dose to keep functioning.

Buck had fallen asleep, his head in Eddie’s lap, who had been reading. He wanted to talk, to work the tension out with Eddie. But Eddie’s hand had been in his hair, massaging his curls gently, and the bed had been just so comfortable, and Buck was so tired-.

He woke up three hours later, in the same position, and with an even worse headache than he went to sleep with.

“Hey, Flight Risk,” Eddie says softly when he sees Bucks eyes open, and he closes the book to put it to the side. Eddie’s legs had gone numb, and his back was screaming at him by now, but he had refused to move. Buck was finally resting. There was no way he was going to be the one to disturb that.

“Hi baby,” Buck mutters groggily, his voice sounding rough. The light hurts his eyes, aggravating his headache further, he groans, twisting so that he can press his face into Eddie’s stomach, pushing into his shirt to hide from the brightness.

Eddie huffs, moving his hand from Bucks hair to his back, rubbing gentle circles. “I’m guessing based on this reaction, you’re not feeling better?”

Buck just groans in response, and the vibration rumbles against Eddie’s abdomen.

“Anything I can do?” Eddie asks, and Buck shakes his head. He doesn’t want to move, and he doesn’t want Eddie to leave. Call him a suck, but he wanted to feel Eddie against his skin.

“I’m sorry,” Buck finally grunts against Eddie's shirt.

“I can barely hear you,” Eddie explains. He’s not mocking, or being smug. Buck's voice is too muffled against his stomach.

Buck shifts, and Eddie does too. They end up laying on their sides, Buck spooning Eddie. Buck couldn’t get any closer to Eddie if he tried. Every part of their bodies were in contact, and Buck loved it. It brought a sense of comfort that nothing else could provide.

“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats, his breath tickling the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie can feel the heat radiating off of Buck, and it reminds him of the fever. Still, it’s nice to have Buck pressed against him, where he knows he’s safe.

“I’m sorry too,” Eddie says. Bucks arms are wrapped around him, and clasped together over Eddie’s waist. Eddie puts his hand on Buck's hands and squeezes.

“I just-,” Buck pauses, hesitating. He isn’t sure what he wants to say, or even what he’s feeling. “I don’t like sitting at home. It gets boring.”

That explanation barely scratches the truth of every dark thing he feels when he can’t work.

“I know,” Eddie exhales slowly. “But you can’t push these things, Buck.”

“I thought I could just get to work, and get distracted. I wouldn’t even feel sick, or something. It was stupid.”

“No it wasn’t-,” Eddie starts before pausing. “Okay, actually it was.”

Buck let’s a small laugh slip.

“I get you want to help people, and that you don’t want to let anyone down, but no one will be disappointed in you for getting sick,” Eddie explains.

“I was hoping I could just push through it, and not waste time at home, twiddling my thumbs.”

“It’s not wasting time getting sick. Cariño, the only reason you're sick is because you saved that little girl. You did a good thing, and now just let yourself rest,” Eddie reminds.

Buck sniffles. “Have you heard anything about how she’s doing?”

“No, but she was fine at the scene. Just shaken up. And she got to go to sleep in her own bed that night, because of you.”

“Thank you,” Buck mutters. “For putting up with me.”

Eddie twists in Buck's arms, and for a moment, Buck's heart drops, thinking Eddie’s going to pull away and leave. But instead, Eddie turns to face him, putting his hands on Bucks chest and looks him in the eye.

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with you. Sure, you can be a pain in my ass, but I love you. I want to be here with you, through the good and bad,” Eddie reassures.

“If you’re gonna be with me, there’s gonna be a lot of bad.”

“Buck, I’ve known you for over six years now. Trust me, I’ve noticed,” Eddie jokes, and Buck smiles. Buck leans down and kisses Eddie softly, the smile never leaving his face. “But the good that comes with you definitely outweighs it. Everyone comes with bad. Look at me, you think I’m perfect?”

Buck snorts, “Definitely not.”

“Okay, I’m gonna ignore how fast you said that,” Eddie says, poking his finger into Bucks chest. “We’ve all got baggage. And I want you, even with it.”

“One day you're gonna regret that,” Buck hums teasingly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I like that tone. Let’s not make that a goal, got it?” Eddie says, and Buck laughs.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” Eddie says. A lull falls upon them, and it’s nice. The air isn’t filled with tension this time. It’s peaceful.

Eddie presses his wrist to Buck's forehead again. Instead of pulling back, and protesting, Buck leans into the touch and sighs at the feeling.

“Any cooler?” Buck asks gently, feeling himself inch closer to sleep.

“You? Cool? Definitely not,” Eddie says sarcastically, and Buck would roll his eyes if it wasn’t for the fact that they had dropped closed. “I think your fever has gone down a little. It’s hard to tell.”

“Need to get your trusty thermometer to be certain?” Buck teases, and Eddie shoves his shoulder.

“Yeah, why don’t you bend over because I know somewhere I could stick it.”

“I’d much rather you use something other than a thermometer,” Buck raises his eyebrows with a comically exaggerated seductive expression.

“You cannot be serious?” Eddie deadpans.

“What? I’m always down,” Buck says, and Eddie snorts.

“You’re always ‘down?’ Really?”

“Yes. You should know that by now.”

“Oh trust me, I’ve noticed. And as enticing as this is, you look like you're about to pass out,” Eddie says, watching as Buck fights to open his eyes and keep them that way.

“I could wake up for that.”

“Another time, mi amor. Let’s wait until you're not full of phlegm.”

“Your loss,” Buck mutters, his eyes already drifting shut again, and he settles in closer against Eddie.

Eddie secures his arms around Buck, holding him close. He kisses his hair gently, and keeps his head resting on Bucks, letting his own eyes close. “It definitely is.”

***

Thankfully, by day three, and no more escape attempts, Buck was finally starting to feel better.

Eddie had to go back to work the following day after the firefighter taking his shift sprained her ankle on a call. Chris was at a friend's house for the weekend. He had been talking about this sleepover for the entire week leading up to it.

That left Buck alone, and bored out of his mind.

He’s sprawled on the couch, sniffling, trying to think of something to do. The nausea had finally subsided, his fever broke last night. He was just left with a minor headache, and leftover congestion.

Buck sighs, staring at the ceiling. He had hoped pausing to think would inspire an idea of what he can do before he goes crazy. It definitely did not.

Buck turns his phone on again for the millionth time. He had been clicking it on and off, going back and forth between mindless scrolling, and steeling himself to find something to do.

He goes to the phone app, quickly finding the contact he had been looking for.

“Evan? Hey,” Maddie’s soothing voice plays out from the phone.

“Maddie! What are you doing?” Buck asks, totally not intending to try, and steal the idea to do it himself.

“I’m just playing with Jee. Say hi Uncle Evan,” Maddie coos to the baby, and Buck can hear a soft ‘hi’ that makes a smile land on his face.

“Hi baby Jee!” He says excitedly, which causes him to cough.

“Are you sick?” Maddie quickly cuts in, her voice changing from a soft baby voice to a concerned older sister.

“A little, but I’m fine,” He’s quick to reassure.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you need anything?” Maddie asks, and Buck smiles gently. He could always count on Maddie to try and help.

“No, thanks though. Eddie’s been taking good care of me.”

“I can hear your smile through the phone.”

“Shut up,” He groans, recognizing that he sounds like the annoying little brother.

“What? It’s cute how smitten you are.”

“I will hang up this phone,” He sniffles.

“Alright, fine. I’ve just never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Come on, Evan. You’re like a bashful teenager.”

“Maddie-,” Buck practically whines, cheeks flushing.

“All I mean is that you seem happy. It’s nice,” Maddie says, and Buck feels himself smiling again.

“I am. I really am,” he reassures. He ignores the way the words feel empty.

“Good,” she says, before her nurse instincts kick in. “Now what are your symptoms?”

He groans. Buck should've known better than to call her.

***

Eddie was relieved when his shift was finally coming to an end. He is getting his stuff out of his locker, and gathering his bearings, just about to leave when Bobby comes in.

“Hey Cap, heading home for the night?” Eddie asks, tying the laces to his regular shoes.

“I’m about to. Athena’s waiting for me,” Cap sighs. “How’s patient zero doing?”

“Other than becoming a whining bag of snot, he’s been good. Getting better,” Eddie jokes, and Bobby laughs.

“That’s good to hear. Y’know Eddie, you’ve been so good for him,” Bobby comments.

Eddie smiles at him, confused, “Thanks, Cap?”

“I mean it. Since you guys got together, I’ve seen real changes in Buck. Improvement’s. You make him happy.”

“Is there a ‘but’ to this?” Eddie asks, his throat feeling tight, wondering where this conversation is headed.

Bobby chuckles, “No. No ‘but.’ I just-.”

“Oh no,” Eddie sighs, his stomach sinking.

“Let me finish,” Bobby admonishes. “Have you noticed anything off with Buck?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, his nerves picking up tenfold.

“I don’t know,” Bobby stammers. “He just seems tired. That’s all.”

“Do you think I should be worried?” Eddie asks, wondering if there have been even more signs he’s missed.

“I think you should just keep an eye on him, okay? It’s likely nothing. Probably had this illness coming on for a while,” Bobby reassures.

“Okay. Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says, voice tight.

“I shouldn’t have even said anything.”

“No,” Eddie’s quick to say. “I’m glad you did.”

“It’s just an observation, Eddie. Don’t run yourself ragged worrying,” Bobby says, gripping Eddie’s shoulder in support. “Get home safe.”

“You too,” Eddie mutters, but his mind is already elsewhere.

Buck hadn’t seemed different. He was just Buck. He had always been stubborn, and always running himself ragged. And he’s come to bed every night, right at Eddie’s side.

How could he miss something with Buck so close to him?

***

Maddie had to hang up when Jee started screaming, his sister rambling something about a diaper blowout before the call cutout.

Buck sighs, and lets his arms flop down. His phone slides out of his hand and clatters to the ground from the couch, but he doesn’t care.

Back to staring at the ceiling.

Eddie would be home in a few hours, and then they have the next 2 days off. Buck might go completely stir crazy before then, if he hasn’t already.

He picks at the skin on his hand aimlessly, staring at nothing, with nothing running through his head.

Except for one thought.

This sucks.

Buck sighs, pushing himself to sit up for the first time in probably hours. The house was too freaking quiet.

“I thought people said this was supposed to be relaxing,” he mumbles to himself, unable to handle the silence any longer. If anything, he felt more tense than he did at work.

At work, he can shut his mind off, and let his instincts take over. He has to put all his attention to the task at hand, and focus on only one thing; saving the lives at stake. Buck doesn’t have to focus on himself when he’s at work.

At home, alone, in silence, he’s only left with his thoughts. It’s during this time his brain supplies him with everything he hates about himself. If Buck could, there’s so much he would change. The silence haunts him with all the mistakes he made; all the lives he couldn’t save.

He can’t just sit here, and listen to it any longer.

Buck stands up, and shuffles over to the kitchen. He has no appetite, so he doesn’t even bother looking at the food. Instead, Buck turns to the sink with a few dirty dishes, and the dishwasher full of clean ones.

He starts with the dishwasher.

He works through every cough and sniffle, despite the way his body screams at him to sit back down. Bucks muscle ache, and he's panting by the time the clean dishes are all put away.

But it’s done.

But he can’t stop now. Buck can’t go back to sitting on the couch, watching paint dry. He needs to be useful. If he’s not useful, then he has no purpose.

Buck needs to have a purpose.

He starts scrubbing the dishes in the sink. Loading the ones he can into the dishwasher, and fully cleaning the rest. He places them into the drying rack, and stares at them. It was over too quickly. Not that he was enjoying cleaning dishes, but at least it was something to do.

He grabs the tee towel hanging from the oven handle. Buck dries every single dish, refusing to leave any behind. Then he moves onto wiping down every counter and surface in the kitchen he can get his hands on. Buck is sweating and out of breath, but he feels alive, for the first time in days. Once the kitchen is dealt with, he moves into the living room.

Buck pulls the vacuum out of the closet, dragging it with him to the living room. He picks up any clothes, or miscellaneous items sprawled on the floor. Buck begins cleaning the floor. The whirring of the vacuum drowns out all the reminders of the way he’s failing by being home, sitting on his ass.

Once the living room is done, he moves to Chris’ bedroom, and then Eddie’s.

Eddie opens the door, half expecting to hear a familiar snore filling the room. Instead, he’s met with the grating sound of the vacuum.

“Buck?” He calls out, not seeing his boyfriend in the front entrance, or living room. He follows the sound, which leads him to the bedroom.

“Buck,” Eddie calls and Buck whirls to face him, surprised. He cuts the power to the vacuum and smiles.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Buck says, leaving the vacuum and walking up to Eddie, kissing him.

“Mhm,” Eddie hums against Buck's lips. “I see you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m feeling better,” Buck explains, and Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t sound it. You’re still so stuffed up.”

“I know, but I’m feeling good,” Buck explains, and Eddie eyes the sweat dripping down his face.

“Don’t rush it.”

“I’m not. I swear.”

“Okay. If you’re sure,” Eddie says, and Buck can hear the doubt in his voice.

“Come on, I can’t sit here doing nothing forever. How was work?” Buck asks as Eddie goes to get a change of clothes.

“Surprisingly boring,” Eddie says, pulling on a hoodie. Buck isn’t even sure whose it is anymore. All their clothes are kind of blending together.

“Come on, man. Don’t lie to make me feel better,” Buck sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, shamelessly watching Eddie finish changing.

“I’m being serious. We actually responded to a call for a lady’s cat in the tree," Eddie sighs, sitting next to Buck and flopping onto his back dramatically. “It was like something out of a freaking calendar.”

“I think I’ve reached an all time low because I’m actually jealous of you,” Buck says, smiling at Eddie who rubs his eyes tiredly.

“Yeah well, next time a cat is clawing up my arm, I’ll be sure to remember how lucky I am,” Eddie sighs, pushing his sleeve back to reveal a few small cat scratches.

“You okay?” Buck asks, taking his arm into his hands to inspect it, even though the scratches are minor. He presses soft kisses to each one, and Eddie hums.

“Definitely been through worse. I think all that’s wounded is my pride.”

“Come on, you still saved a life,” Buck tries to cheer him up, and Eddie snorts.

“I think that lady was actually taking pictures of me. She might very well be putting her own calendar together.”

“I would definitely buy that,” Buck says, and Eddie chuckles again.

“Yeah after 17 hours of working, I don’t think you’ll find the pictures to look as sexy as you’re expecting,” Eddie groans, and Buck grabs his thigh, squeezing it gently.

“They’re pictures of you. I think they’ll be the hottest thing I’ve seen,” Buck says, leaning forward to kiss Eddie, who grabs his head and pulls him into a deeper kiss.

When they finally separate, Eddie smirks at him. “Want to help me take a shower?”

“The day I say no that, assume the worst,” Buck hums, standing up and pulling Eddie with him, the two stumbling giddily to the bathroom.

*

Eddie woke up on the couch to whistling coming from the kitchen. He isn’t sure when he fell asleep. He and Buck finished the shower, and came out to watch some television. That’s all he remembered. And now, very glaringly obvious, he was alone on this couch, the television off.

Eddie listens to Buck clang around in the kitchen, obviously trying but failing to keep the noise down. He’s not sure what song Buck is whistling, but the sound is comforting. Eddie debates letting his eyes close again, and going back to sleep, but he eventually decides against it. He pushes himself to his feet, groaning as his bones creak, reminding him that he’s getting older. Eddie pushes through the door to the kitchen to see Bucks back turned to him, stirring something on the stove, still whistling.

“What’s cooking?” Eddie asks, leaning against the doorframe.

Buck turns to look at him, almost like he’s surprised. “Oh, I’m just making some eggs,” he says, moving to the side to let Eddie see the pan he’s stirring.

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie sighs.

“You can go sit down again, I’ll bring it out,” Buck offers, but Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. One nap is enough,” Eddie says, going to get plates from the cupboard. “Did you do the dishes?”

Buck glances at him, not surprised to see Eddie looking at him with a questioning look on his face. “I mean, yeah. It’s not like I didn’t have the time.”

“What happened to resting, and letting yourself heal?” Eddie asks accusingly, and Buck does that damn shrug again.

“It’s not like it’s a draining task.”

“I would not agree with that statement,” Eddie sighs, putting the plates on the counter next to Buck, who begins scooping the eggs into them. “Doing dishes after a long shift is worse than pulling teeth.”

“I agree with that, but when you’ve been trapped in your house for days with nothing to do, it’s pretty damn exciting.”

“I guess I can’t argue that,” Eddie says, bringing both the plates to the table, and Buck follows him to sit down. “Heard anything from Chris?”

“Nope. I think the last thing he’d want is one of us texting to check in on him,” Buck smiles.

“Well maybe he’d want to hear from you. Definitely not me. You’re the cool one,” Eddie hums, digging into his food.

“As much as I’d like to agree that I’m cooler than you, he’s growing up. He’s independent now.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie grumbles, and Buck hums. He grabs Eddie's arm, and squeezes comfortingly before going back to his food.

“You did good with him. This is a good thing,” Buck says between bites.

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “It’s just happening sooner than I thought.”

“That’s what every parent says.”

“That’s because they’re on to something.”

“He’ll be home before you know it,” Buck reminds, and Eddie nods.

“I know. I’ll get over it.”

“Because you’re so good at letting things go.”

“You do not get to talk,” Eddie says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buck asks, pausing the fork midair before his mouth.

“You hold grudges longer than I do.”

“I do not!”

“You absolutely do,” Eddie reminds. “You’re worse at letting things go than me.”

“How did this become a competition?” Buck asks, a smile poking onto his face.

“That’s the type of excuse only the loser would use,” Eddie says, pushing himself to his feet. He kisses Bucks curls. “Thanks for dinner, babe. It was delicious.”

“Y’know, I spent hours slaving over it,” Buck hums.

“I’m sure,” Eddie says, grinning.

Buck watches Eddie approach the counter, and he’s quick to shove the shorter man out of the way.

“No. Absolutely not. This is my job,” Buck says, shooing Eddie away from the sink.

“Come on. Let me help. You’re still recovering,” Eddie protests.

“I am fine,” Buck says assertively. “It gives me something to do. Come on.”

Buck starts to lead Eddie out of the kitchen.

“What am I supposed to do?” Eddie asks, throwing his hands up.

“Relax,” Buck teases, reminding Eddie of his earlier words. “Kick your feet up, and just chill.”

“You are the worst,” Eddie says, and Buck hums. He leans forward, breath fanning over Bucks lips. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Buck taunts, acting like he’s about to kiss Eddie, but he pulls back at the last minute. “Now get out of my kitchen.”

“Wow, okay. Did you leave the fridge open? Because it just got really cold in here,” Eddie says, glaring at Buck as he pushes the door open.

“When did you become such a middle aged man? I think that’s the lamest thing you’ve ever said.”

“If I’m middle aged, what does that make you?” Eddie asks, putting a hand on his hip.

“Young? In my prime? Take your pick,” Buck says.

“I think I’ll choose big-headed.”

“Now was that one of the options I listed?” Buck chides, turning back to the sink, starting to wash the pan.

“It was implied.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Buck deadpans. “Now seriously, go sit.”

“Fine. I’m going,” Eddie relents, leaving to go to the living room.

The kitchen is cascaded in silence again, and Buck turns back to the sink, a soft smile still lingering on his face.

He was so thankful to have someone like Eddie in his life. Buck never imagined he’d have a love that ran so deep, or a family that mattered to him as much as Eddie and Christopher do. He was grateful that they came into his life, and that he gets to love them every day.

But he doesn’t deserve it. Everytime he sees Eddie smile, or hears Chris laugh, a thought pops into his mind.

They deserve better.

Chris deserves a parent who isn’t such a mess like Buck. And Eddie deserves a partner he can depend on, not one who just brings him more worry. Buck was just another thing for Eddie to parent. Buck was the strain in their little family, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it.

These thoughts swirl in Buck's head, fueled by the silence suffocating him. Buck turns the sink on to rinse the pan, but he pauses. He hesitates for a moment, before pushing to place his hand under the water, and decides it’s not hot enough. He turns the temperature until the hottest setting. Buck holds his hand under the stream, until the water is steaming, and he physically can’t handle the temperature on his skin.

Buck rips his arm out of the water, sucking air through his teeth, and shaking his hand to get rid of the pain. He looks down at his red, irritated skin, and realises something.

His mind is finally quiet