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A week ago, Buck cleared his throat when he woke up. He sat in bed, stretching his lethargic body, and cleared his throat. His bad leg was cramping from being in one position for so long, and maybe that’s why he didn’t notice that once he cleared his throat that first time, he never really stopped.
It felt like something was stuck the entire week, day or night. But, it was just out of reach so if he gargled or looked at it in the mirror, there was nothing to see.
He never really understood the saying ‘A frog in your throat’, but after coughing so hard he tasted blood, he was starting to get it. That didn’t stop him from deep-diving into the saying’s origin and finding out if it was ever meant literally. He went down a rabbit hole of snake oil merchants and throat lozenges. It did a good job of distracting him, but that didn’t last very long.
He tried a few things from Reddit and homemade remedies that were supposed to be soothing, but nothing worked. It wasn’t like it hurt, it was just annoying. At first, it only happened when he woke up or talked for too long. By the end of the week, Buck couldn’t get a word out without coughing his throat raw.
He obviously noticed because it was happening to him, but after a sideways call, it was brought to his attention that everyone else noticed it, too.
“For the love of God, Buck, drink something!” Chim snapped when Buck cleared his throat for the hundredth time since their shift started.
They were returning from a two-alarm fire that quickly became a three-alarm fire when the blaze engulfed chemicals stored in the basement. The smoldering flames in the two-story house were almost extinguished when an explosion from under the stairs made things much worse.
They got everyone to safety, dousing the flames eventually, but the two-hour call became a four-hour call which was more overtime than any of them wanted.
They were caked with soot, exhausted, and apparently, on their last nerve.
Buck clamped his mouth shut, trying to stifle the building cough. His shoulders shook with the effort as his lungs seized in pain. He turned in the minimal space of the cabin so he didn’t contaminate anyone with spittle.
Once finished, his beat-red face pulsed in time with his heart while he panted into the elbow of his turnout. He felt the heat from his friend’s stares before he even looked up. They watched him wide-eyed like he was about to keel over any second.
“Sorry,” Buck said, cursing the rasp in his voice.
“Jesus, are you okay?” Chim asked worriedly, the annoyance draining out of him.
Buck blushed, biting back another cough. He wasn’t usually opposed to the attention, but he didn’t like the anxious feeling he got from their searching gazes.
“Yeah,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. He was sure that left streaks from his forehead to his chin, but he didn’t care. “I just have something stuck in my throat.”
“Still?” Hen asked, eyeing him critically, unable to hide her concern in the way she watched him.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been clearing your throat like that the entire week,” she replied. “Do you have a fever? Is your neck swollen?”
She reached across Chim, who sat between them, to slap a hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. He waved her away, scooting as far over as he could. She grabbed for his coat’s collar, trying to pull him back.
“Hen, I’m f-fine,” Buck grumbled. “It’s the air or something.”
Eddie, who sat opposite Buck, raised an eyebrow at the blonde as if to say, ‘Really, that’s the best you got?’
Hen stopped but glared at him in a way that spoke of retribution as soon as they pulled into the Station. Bobby couldn’t see what was happening because he was in the passenger seat, but that didn’t stop him from going into full ‘dad mode.’
“Have you been coughing anything up like flem or-” he stopped, swallowing heavily. His voice wavered over the mic. An image of Buck looking at him in confusion as blood bubbled out of his mouth flashed before his eyes.
“No!” Buck said, quick to assure his Captain that it was nothing like that. “If I started throwing up blood again, you guys would be the first to know.”
“Damn right,” Eddie said, his warm eyes pinning Buck with a look.
“I-It isn’t like painful or anything, it just feels like there’s something stuck,” Buck quickly glanced away from his partner. Why was it always like looking into the sun with this guy?
“Why didn’t you ask me or Chim to take a look?” Hen huffed, crossing her arms instead of flicking the younger man’s ear like she wanted to.
“Because I already looked, there’s nothing in my throat, and it will go away eventually,” he replied, punctuating the statement by clearing his throat again.
“Oh, I’m looking in that throat,” Hen narrowed her eyes, daring him to argue with her.
Buck glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. It was like fighting Maddie or talking back to Athena. The sooner he gave in, the sooner it would be over.
—
“See anything?” Chim asked, holding Buck’s head still so Hen could see down his throat with a penlight.
They were back at the firehouse, freshly showered. Buck tried sneaking off after his shower, hoping to avoid Dr. Hen, ENT Medicine Woman, but Eddie caught him and dragged him to her like a human sacrifice. They made the couch their impromptu medical suite.
“Some inflammation and irritation, but nothing crazy,” Hen said, searching for a bit longer before pulling away. She still looked concerned, but at least her fingers weren’t in his mouth anymore.
“When did the cough start?” Chim obnoxiously patted Buck’s head like the annoying older brother he was.
“It’s not a cough,” Buck said, swatting Chim away. “It just feels like something’s stuck. It’ll go away."
Hen perched on the coffee table across from him, pulling off her gloves, and staring like he was hiding something. “It doesn’t hurt?”
Buck shook his head, slumping further into the couch. It pushed him into Eddie’s side, but neither seemed to mind. Bobby puttered quietly around the kitchen making something with the electric kettle.
“Buck, do you want honey?” Bobby asked, holding Buck’s Spider-Man mug. Steam rose from the cup, and Buck knew Bobby’s signature ‘Get Better Tea’ was steeping inside.
He opened his mouth to answer, but the sound got stuck. He cleared his throat, but he still couldn’t say anything. A breathy noise left his mouth, his eyes widening as he tried to clear it again. Something sharp pinched deep in his throat, jolting his entire body, and pitching him forward with the pain.
Soft hands patted his back, trying to dislodge whatever got stuck. The blonde shook his head, coughing as hard as he could. When the fit was over, he was happy to see he hadn’t coughed anything up, but the part where he couldn’t talk was scary and new.
“What the hell?” Chim asked, his hands halfway to grabbing Buck in case they needed to rush him down to their rig. Hen glanced at him while rubbing Buck’s arm, trying to get him to sit back. Eddie stopped patting his back, his hand coming to rest on the knobs of Buck’s spine.
“Eddie,” Abandoning Buck’s mug on the counter, Bobby tossed the keys to the Captain’s truck to the other man. “Take him in to get that checked out, I don’t want to take any chances.”
Eddie was already nodding, slipping an arm under Buck’s elbow. Bobby came around the couch to help with a hand under Buck’s other arm.
“B-bobby,” Buck said, finally getting his voice working again. “I’m alright, I don’t know what that was, but I’m okay.”
An acidic burn settled at the bottom of Buck’s throat. The pain brought tears to his eyes, but he refused to cry. How could he convince his team that he was alright with tears streaming down his face?
Bobby watched his youngest firefighter, his face pinched with concern. The kid sounded like he was suddenly a ten-pack-a-day smoker. He gently cupped Buck’s head just behind his ear, tilting it up so he could look into scared, blue eyes. “I know everything’s fine, I think you’re right, but I still want you to get checked out, okay?”
Buck trusted Bobby, he trusted the man with his life. If his Captain gave him an order, he would do it. He was trying this new thing, following orders and letting people help when he needed it.
He nodded sullenly, letting Eddie lead him to the truck. The sooner he got checked out, and could prove that it was nothing, the sooner it would be over.
—
If Eddie didn’t stop pacing in front of his bed, Buck was going to throw something at him. There weren’t a lot of options, but he was sure it would hurt to get hit by an IV pole.
“Did we have a fire call last week? Could it be smoke inhalation?” Eddie crossed his arms, tapping a fast rhythm on his bicep.
They’d been there for over two hours, and after the first thirty minutes, Buck had to stop talking. His voice kept getting stuck and he was afraid of what Eddie would do if he actually did start spitting up blood.
He shook his head at his partner, which had quickly become the only way he could communicate. They tried texting but Buck took too long to reply which caused Eddie to get impatient and ask like ten more questions before Buck could answer the first one.
“It might just be laryngitis, but that usually comes with other symptoms. You only cough when you try to talk, and they said you don’t have a fever,” Eddie said, almost like he was talking to himself.
Buck thought the way Eddie was trying to solve the problem was cute. There were mixed feelings of gratitude and embarrassment warring in Buck’s head. On one hand, he was being taken care of by the man he may be in love with, but on the other, he was a strong, independent firefighter who didn’t need no man.
Is it so bad to have someone give a shit about you?
He shook his head trying to dislodge the very reasonable voice. He just wanted to get through a whole month without visiting the hospital. Was that too much to ask?
He changed into street clothes before they left and put on a hospital gown when they got there. It was a light day at Mercy West, so all the tests were fairly quick by hospital standards.
“Do you need anything? Are you cold?” Eddie asked, coming to a stop. Buck sat cross-legged on the bed. The hospital gown was untied in the back for ease of access, but he wasn’t paying any attention to the breeze in the emergency room bay.
They hadn’t been there for very long, but it didn’t matter to the blonde. Any amount of time spent in the hospital was too much time.
Buck shook his head again, frowning at the look on Eddie’s face. The other man looked stressed out, which was to be expected since his best friend was in the hospital, but it still made Buck want to fix his face.
“E-ed-” Buck tried, but it was no use.
“Don’t, don’t try to talk if it hurts,” Eddie dropped into the chair next to Buck’s bed. “They’re gonna figure this out, and you’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”
Buck slumped forward with a groan. The only good thing about the moment was Eddie rubbing circles on his back; he relished in the warmth.
That’s how the physician found them fifteen minutes later. Buck was so relaxed he could’ve fallen asleep, but the antiseptic smell of the hospital kept bringing him back.
“Alright, Mr. Buckley,” Dr. Kattar said stepping around the partially open curtain. She was a tall, olive-skinned woman with a dark blue headscarf wrapped artfully around her head. She was probably somewhere between Buck and Eddie in age. “Sorry about the wait.”
Buck sat up smiling tiredly at the doctor, grateful Eddie hadn’t moved. She returned the smile while flipping a page on his chart.
“Is it alright if your partner hears what’s going on, or would you like to get this information alone?” The doctor asked, her dark eyes trailing from Eddie’s hand on Buck’s back to the man himself.
Eddie shifted to get up, but Buck shook his head so hard he started seeing spots. Eddie’s hand moved to the back of his neck as he sat forward enough to look into Buck’s eyes.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, and if Buck could talk he would call Eddie an idiot, and say of course he wanted him to stay, and maybe I love you, but probably not because what the hell?
The incredulous look on Buck’s face told Eddie everything he needed to know; he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Alright, so the esophagoscopy showed us what the problem might be,” She pulled a sheet of pictures out of the chart. They were all different angles of Buck’s esophagus. Buck wasn’t an expert so he had no idea what he was looking at. To him, it looked pretty normal for the inside of a body.
She clipped it to an exam board, turning on the light. Circles stood out in pictures two, four, and five. She pointed to them saying, “So, this right here is where your vocal cords are. Usually, that area is smooth with regular tone, meaning the color is the same as everything else.”
She glanced back at them before moving on to an enlarged version of one of the pictures. “Now, right here, it looks like there’s a thickening of the lining near your voice box, which we think was caused by some scar tissue. Have you had any blunt laryngeal trauma, that you know of?”
Buck blinked at her and then glanced at Eddie as though his best friend would know that kind of information about him. He thought about it before grabbing his phone to answer her.
Eddie’s hand covered his before he could type anything.
“Um, actually he had a field tracheostomy a few years ago. Would something like that cause this?” Eddie asked, his hand sliding further up Buck’s arm to rest at his pulse point. Buck had no idea why he was doing that, but he absolutely didn’t mind.
It was the Doctor’s turn to blink in surprise. “Yeah, yeah a field- Why did you have a field trach?”
“Bad date,” Eddie said, something sharp in his voice that Buck had a hard time recognizing.
He glanced at his friend, clocking the tightness in his jaw. He wanted to say that the date itself hadn’t been bad, it was just an unfortunate accident. However, Eddie pressing his lips into thin lines of suppressed anger made Buck glad his voice wasn’t working.
“Okay,” Dr. Kattar said in a way that said this probably wasn’t even the weirdest thing she’d heard that day. “So, the scar tissue is causing inflammation on your vocal cords and the vocal flap in your esophagus. Hence the feeling of something being stuck in there.”
“So, this is the cause of everything?” Eddie asked, stroking the skin on Buck’s inner wrist.
“Yes, we believe so,” The Doctor said while taking the pictures down and replacing them in Buck’s chart. “It’s a buildup of tissue that can irritate the soft lining and cause symptoms that mimic laryngitis.”
“Can it be fixed?” Eddie asked anxiously, and Dr. Kattar might not have heard it, but Buck definitely could. He tapped Eddie’s hand where it gripped Buck’s wrist. The older man glanced at him and Buck did his best to look okay.
“Yes, absolutely, Mr. Buckley can start a treatment of steroids immediately to help bring the inflammation down. I’m also going to recommend a GI who can endoscopically help with reconstruction which will take care of the scarred tissue and fix the problem for good,” she said, her tone suggesting it was a simple, common procedure.
Buck nodded but still bit his lip until he could taste blood.
“Alright, I’ll get that script written up so you can pick it up today. Then just stop by and talk to Patrick at reception to have the referral sent to your PCP so they can set up a date and time for the endoscopic procedure. Do you or your husband have any other questions?” Dr. Kattar looked at both of them expectantly.
Buck’s head was spinning, but he heard that. He opened his mouth to do something stupid like try to speak, but Eddie gentled him with the hand on his neck.
“We’re good, thank you so much,” Eddie said.
Buck looked at him in awe until Eddie met his gaze. Why did he do that? Why did you do that? Did you mean to do that?
All of the things Buck would have asked out loud were stuck circling his head like a whirlpool. Eddie smiled softly at him before turning back to thank the Doctor once more before she left. Buck glanced her way, but she was already gone.
“I just wanted to make sure they would let me take care of you,” Eddie said, stroking the fine hairs on the nape of Buck’s neck.
Buck was all out of sorts. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to say so many things.
“Actually, I wonder if they can give you a steroid shot right now so you can at least talk for a little while,” Eddie mused. “I’ll be right back.”
The brunette slipped away, leaving him sitting on the bed in a daze. He dropped the hand reaching toward where Eddie disappeared, before bringing his knees to his chest to bury his face.
They knew what the problem was, and they could fix it. He had to have a round of steroids, and an endoscopic procedure to get back to normal. The doctor called Eddie his husband, and Eddie thanked her.
Every single thing about the last few minutes had been stressful. Buck knew he couldn’t work if he couldn’t speak. At the very least, he would probably be Man Behind until his voice was more reliable. He hoped the steroids would make it so he could talk again.
He needed to talk. He needed to talk to Eddie.
Eddie who gently stroked Buck’s skin and grounded him. Eddie who knew his history and could answer personal questions for him when he couldn’t. Eddie who wanted to take care of Buck, and didn’t flinch when someone said they were husbands.
He needed to talk to Eddie real bad.
The curtain swung open and Eddie was back with a nurse and a needle. It was a quick pinch and instructions to keep the talking to a minimum for a few hours. Being discharged and the conversation at reception didn’t take long; they were out of there within the hour.
At some point, Eddie called Bobby and conferenced everyone in so he could explain what was going on. Hen couldn’t help saying, ‘I knew there was something wrong’, which was expected of her. Buck rolled his eyes and then pleaded silently with Eddie to not tell Hen he did that. Eddie snorted but got the message.
Maddie and Bobby both said they would come over the next morning to see him, but Eddie informed them that Buck would not be at the loft. Apparently, Buck would be at Eddie’s house, with Eddie’s kid, and Eddie.
Buck raised an eyebrow at his partner who all but dared him to disagree. It was incredibly rude since Buck still couldn’t say anything, but he let it go. He wanted to be with Eddie, there was no reason to argue about it.
They set up a schedule for everyone to check on him, the overly co-dependent group they were. Buck didn’t say a word the entire call, but then again he didn’t really have to.
Eddie drove them to the pharmacy that the ER sent his meds to. He went in and got the meds, some chicken soup, and three bottles of the Gatorade Buck liked. He tossed Buck a package of strawberry cream cough drops. The doctor recommended them for when his voice returned.
They went back to the firehouse to drop off the Captain’s truck and grab their stuff, and then Eddie drove them to his house as promised. They had three hours until Chris was off from school, and Carla was picking him up.
Buck rested his head on the cool window the entire ride home. He was still dizzy with everything that happened since the hospital. Eddie broke him out of his stupor with a hand on his elbow.
“You okay?” he asked, the concern Buck first noticed in the fire engine hours ago still shining in his soft, brown eyes.
Buck sat up, grabbing the hand gripping his elbow. He turned it around in his grasp and held on tight. He wasn’t sure he could give a grand speech or even ask all the questions he wanted to ask. The steroid shot made his throat feel weird, and he knew his voice would crack when he spoke, but he didn’t care.
“T-thank you,” Buck said, and it came out like sandpaper.
Eddie smiled despite the blonde’s wrecked voice. He cupped Buck’s cheek to stroke his thumb under the blonde’s bottom lip. “Always, mi sol.”
It turned out Buck didn’t need the words, Eddie always knew what he was trying to say anyway. His voice would eventually be fixed and he would get to talk to Eddie about everything, the sooner the better.
-fin-