Archive of Our Own

“You're gonna be okay Buck, remember that.”

Buck hardly believes Bobby’s last words to him as he stands to the side of the building watching the black body bag get wheeled out of the lab. The situation didn’t feel real. Like that wasn’t Bobby in that bag, just some unknown casualty of the explosion, and tomorrow he won’t have to wake up knowing the state is planning a funeral and Athena went back to the temporary accommodation they’ve been staying in while their house gets built alone.

While her house gets built.

Buck’s throat tightened and he felt his lip wobble for the - God only knows - time since he walked out of the lab. He hadn’t seen the rest of the team yet, honestly wasn’t sure if he could face them. The thought induced a panic. He was the one behind the rest. He watched as Bobby closed that door and locked himself in there to-

He’s still wearing his gear so the tight close of his fist barely registered through the thick gloves, no matter how hard he dug his fingers into his palm. His arms shook with the effort, but he still felt nothing.

Seconds after they had rolled the bag out, Athena appeared in the doorway of the lab in the suit Roz had given her, helmet clutched under her arm. Buck’s shoulders straightened instinctively as her blank, empty, stare landed on him. They shared a moment of silent commiseration, of mourning and understanding. 

At least they had gotten to say goodbye.

Athena made her way to where Buck stood on the grassy knoll outside of the building. As she walked closer Buck could see the mascara streaked down her cheeks, her bloodshot eyes, and the weight she now appeared to carry throughout her entire body. 

“Go home Buck. There’s nothing left to do here.” 

A part of Buck rebuked the words. There’s always something to do, something to fix things , to make sure this pain that permeated the air and the ground dissipates and he and all his team are freed from it.

He vaguely saw Ravi, the only member of the 118 who wasn’t taken from the scene in an ambulance, approaching him with tears in his eyes, searching for guidance. However, in the time between leaving Bobby in the lab with Athena and watching the bag leave that lab in place of his Captain, Buck hadn’t had a single thought of what would come next.

Instead of offering a response, they watched as the ambulance the hazmat team loaded the body bag into drove away with no sirens on. 

Buck, understanding the post-Bobby moment he was now living in, felt a part of him snap .

“I love you, kid.” He didn't say it back .

If anyone asked, Buck wouldn’t be able to tell you how he got home after the lab. Or how the next few days passed by. What he did, what he ate, who he spoke to, were all blurred together in grief. He felt unmoored, overcome by emotion and whisked away in the sea of it. At least the last time he had been drowning this bad he had a mission in mind. Christopher was missing, not dead, Bobby was-

By the time Eddie’s Prius pulled up outside his house days later, Hen had been released from hospital and Maddie had already tried to get him to open the door several times. It hadn’t really worked seeing as Buck hadn’t moved from his place buried under a mountain of blankets in bed. To him, this was worse than being trapped under a fire truck, worse than suing the Department and costing him his friendships.

Which–don’t even get him started. Every instance of Buck rebuking Bobby’s orders, pissing him off or messing around had been playing on repeat in his mind, giving him the unique opportunity to spiral into irrational thoughts about butterfly effects and wondering how much of it all was his fault . Or all the ways he could’ve tried to stop it, all the mistakes he made.

Number one at the top of that list, was being the one to lead Roz out of the lab. It kept him safe, but at what cost.

Buck knew the cost now. He’d give anything to take Bobby’s place.

Give him back. Please.

In the midst of his spiralling, he hears a door unlock, footsteps and what sounds like bags being dropped onto the floor. Voices discuss something Buck can’t make out, not that he tried very hard but still.

The footsteps grew louder and finally the door to his bedroom opened behind him.

Buck should’ve really been more concerned about who had just broken into his house but he also couldn’t find it in himself to care that deeply. He’d already lost the most important thing to him, if someone robbed him blind it wouldn’t compare to this.

Instead of being robbed, the next worst thing happened to him.

“C’mon Buck. Up you get.” Eddie ripped the covers from where they had been wrapped around his body, cocooning him in, and Buck simply groaned in complaint, reaching blindly out to try grasp a blanket and regain his depression pit.

Eddie, the bastard, moved further away from the bed in response, dragging his covers out of his reach. “No, we’ve got things to do, come on.”

“Like what?” Buck spat the words out around a hoarse throat, directing misplaced vitriol at his best friend as he pottered around the room and receiving a raised eyebrow for his efforts.

“Buck. Hen says you haven’t left the house since Bobby…” Eddie’s words trailed off but the barest mention of his name struck Buck in the chest. The apologetic look Eddie offered indicated that whatever feeling had just hit him had been visible, written across his face in a tight grimace as Buck ducked his head and wondered how quickly he could run and grab the covers from Eddie's hands before resuming his previous position.

Unfortunately, he was awake and alert now. Miserable about it yes, but feeling enough of a person to acknowledge that his best friend wouldn’t be leaving him alone to rot in bed anymore. He certainly hadn’t last time.

With a deep sigh, Buck pulled himself up out of bed, taking a minute to grab a pair of sweatpants and trying not to preen under Eddie’s proud stare. The house definitely needed a tidy up. There were dishes left in the sink, far fewer than there should’ve been but eating hadn’t really been on Buck’s to-do list. Cooking at the moment came with the side effect of overwhelming sadness and mourning, so he’d granted himself that kindness and favoured hunger over heightened grief. 

Buck wandered out into the living room only to be greeted by a head of blonde curls so similar to his own poking over the edge of the couch. “Christopher?” 

Buck turned around to Eddie, surprised, and was faced by a small smile. “You didn’t think I’d leave him back in Texas again did you?”

“Yeah Buck, it was getting boring back there,” Christopher chimed in, mirroring his father’s sass with a smile on his face.

Buck huffed out a breath, smiling for the first time in days and making his way over to the couch to hug Chris. They shared a quick embrace and Buck sat beside Chris, intending to distract himself by asking all about his time in Texas.

Before he could get a word out, Chris put a hand on his arm and sympathetically said, “I’m sorry about Bobby, Buck.”

Damn, like father like son huh.

The words delivered the second punch to Buck’s chest he’d received that morning and, in his best attempt not to cry, he offered Chris a subdued smile and muttered his gratitude.

Chris nodded and gave a little pat to his arm.

Eddie, who had been watching from the doorway to the kitchen, looked mournful in a way Buck hadn’t noticed earlier. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood there, leaving against the wall, but his eyes carried a sadness. He carries it well, Buck thought privately. It wasn’t a surprise, this wasn’t Eddie’s first time losing someone so close to him.

Eddie and Chris naturally stayed in the house, which probably was the best option both for them and Buck. It was their house really, at least for the time being, but Buck was avoiding thinking too hard about how much it felt like a home with all of them under the same roof.

Instead, he kept himself busy, or more specifically, Eddie kept him busy. The house had never been cleaner than after an afternoon of Eddie prompting Buck and helping him clear out the trash left in the bins, or cleaning up the counter tops of the kitchen where takeout had been rotting. 

Eddie had also stopped Buck from bedrotting again, forcing him up, making sure he ate and went outside. He even enlisted Buck into taking Chris over to Hen and Karen’s, although Buck’s half convinced that was so Hen could get proof of life from him.

Buck hadn’t realised how much better he’d felt until the day of Bobby’s funeral came around and he’d already had his dress uniform pressed and hung up. They’d taken both Buck’s uniform and Eddie’s suit to the dry cleaners the week prior and they’d cleaned up beautifully. 

Naturally, it was at this point that Buck’s mind seemed to catch up to him. Standing in his bedroom (technically their bedroom for the moment at least), Buck ran his hands down the sleeve of his blazer, fingers trembling.

Unwillingly, his mind recalled him getting ready for his first date with Abby all those years ago. Standing in the firehouse changing rooms, struggling to tie a tie, only for Bobby to come up and teach him how to do it. He’d brushed a hand over Buck’s shoulder then, and smiled in that fatherly way, gaze full of pride.

As Buck stood dressed in his formal uniform in the bedroom mirror, he wished Bobby would come up behind him and fix his collar where it had skewed slightly. Instead, his lip trembled and he reached to fix it on his own.

“You’re gonna be okay Buck.”

I’m not sure I am Bobby.

The prospect of meeting up with the rest of the 118 had sent a shiver down Buck’s spine. The leftover emotions from his spiralling weighed on him, even if Eddie had reassured him time and time again that he wasn’t at fault. 

He’d already seen Hen, been wrapped in a tight hug by her and had had to be mindful of her healing wound from where the chest tube had sat. She’d been pleased to see him but all Buck had felt was that lingering guilt and he’d almost run from her house at the first opportunity. 

Maddie too had checked up on him, eventually he had opened that door and let himself sob into her grasp. It had lifted some of that weight but not all.

They lined up in a neat row behind where Athena, May and Harry carried a flag and a hat branded with the 118 Captain’s plaque. Buck had barely been able to look at it for fear that he’d break before the ceremony had even started.

In all actuality, the procession is beautiful. The street lined with fire engines and the US flag draped across ladder trucks.

Buck’s eyes however, never strayed from the coffin that lay on the back of the truck. The ‘Nash’ on the turncoat brought an acidic taste to his mouth. He’d felt Eddie’s eyes on him from his left side, short glances but full of concern branding his cheek. From his right, he’d vaguely acknowledged Tommy stood further down the line who had also shot him a couple of looks. His focus was sharply planted on the coffin though.

The procession takes them all the way to a graveyard, one dedicated to first responders. Buck had been here once before, to bury Red in a way that he’d been deserving of. He’d never thought he’d have to go there again, for this least of all. 

Athena rings the bell calling Bobby for his last shift, his final alarm, and it's at this point that Buck feels a tear fall from his eye. He hadn’t even noticed it forming before the cold wetness was dripping down his cheek. He cleared it from his face quickly and returned to his position. A hesitant hand curled just two fingers into his palm. Eddie hadn’t taken his eyes from where the casket was being lowered into the ground, but still offered a point of grounding Buck would be a fool not to take.

The casket lands and a final call for Captain Bobby Nash rings out over the radio. 

Athena’s gentle sobs as she gets handed a folded flag for the second time in her life ring out in the graveyard, muffled only by the sounds of dirt landing on the casket. May hiccuped and clutched at her mother’s arm as they watched the remainder of the funeral, a closing curtain on the life of Bobby Nash.

Buck, standing a few rows back from Bobby’s family, mourned the only man who taught him to tie a tie and watched Bobby’s children cry for him, fearing what meant if he did too.

He sheds his tears anyway.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I’ve been buried alive!”

Bobby checked the weather report before they got called out to that lab fire. A beautiful sunny Thursday afternoon. 

Bobby Nash died knowing the sun outside was shining in the sky, and a warm breeze was heating the area.

Bobby Nash woke up to darkness. 

Admittedly, this wasn’t how he’d pictured Heaven.

He couldn’t exactly complain, there was a plush surface for him to lay on, although God’s waiting room for Paradise was a little cramped. That plush surface cupped his arms too and if he wiggled his feet they hit another surface too.

Minutes passed and no door opened and no big booming Holy Host came to welcome him into the afterlife either, in hindsight, maybe Bobby should’ve caught on a little faster but he had very much died and the Bible doesn’t say a lot about what comes next. He was going into it with an open mind. A little too open.

Gaining full consciousness made him realise that this probably wasn’t God’s cosy waiting room, but rather a very expensive, paid for by the state, casket.

Bobby’s train of thought after that realisation would’ve definitely had him smited if this was Heaven and only really further proved his point.

Slow moving, he shuffled around as much as he could. Unfortunately an expensive casket really doesn't leave much room to wiggle about much to his disappointment. Maybe they should change that.

His wiggling proved fruitful as he pulled a phone from one of the pockets of his gear cargo pants. Bobby spared a moment of further disappointment that they’d buried him as he’d come out of the scene, but moves quickly past that after thinking about how he’d ‘died’ after all. The quarantine period for his body, Bobby grimaced at that, was likely long and they had probably thrown him in the ground after making sure no one else was going to be infected.

Lucky that he’d been buried with his phone on hand at least. Booting it up, it revealed a miserable 25% charge. What a day.

After pulling up the keypad of his phone app, Bobby paused a second. God , he prayed sort of but not really, Athena is going to kill me.

In the keypad, he dialled the number.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I’ve been buried alive!”

Maddie had admittedly had a pretty terrible time recently. Between being kidnapped by a serial killer, having her throat slashed, psychosomatically losing her voice, and then having to listen to her husband die of CCHF, it was a miracle she had even stepped foot in Metro Dispatch again. Luckily for her, Chim hadn’t died and she had regained her voice, a net positive if you discounted Chim’s grief and guilt over Bobby’s death.

The fact that Bobby had chosen to save Chim over himself made her eternally grateful to him.

Still, picking up a call from a very familiar voice wasn’t any less surprising.

“Bobby?!”

“Maddie? Is that you? I think I’ve been buried alive but I don’t know where.”

Maddie felt her eyes tear up. “I think I’ll be able to help you without that information actually.” She typed the address for the cemetery they’d attended not even 24 hours ago into the text box on Dispatch’s software before switching to radio a local RA unit and Fire and Rescue team that were nearby.

“Bobby, I’ve sent rescue to your location, they’re five minutes out.”

“Thank you, Maddie.”

“What can you tell me about your condition? How do you feel, Bobby?” she asked, preparing once again to type.

“Nothing feels wrong. I have full mobility, cognitive function seems fine from my perspective. It’s a little cold down here but I think that’s not beyond the ordinary for being in a box 6 feet under.”

Relieved, Maddie reached for her phone to shoot off several texts to her friends and family before Bobby’s voice came through once again.

“Maddie? …How bad was it? For them?”

She took a deep breath before responding, tears in her eyes. “We buried you yesterday.” A dark thought came to mind and she huffed out a laugh, “in case you’re worried, it was a beautiful ceremony.”

A soft chuckle came through the phone in response. “I’m glad.” He didn’t ask again and Maddie silently thanked him for it.

A few minutes passed by with regular check ups on Bobby’s condition interspersed with small talk. “Maddie, I think I hear them?”

Maddie switched to her map and confirmed, “Yes they’re right by you, they’ll get you out soon Bobby.” To her left, her phone began to vibrate with several texts pouring in. “You’ll be back with us in a few minutes.”

“Back to the land of the living.” 

Maddie chuckled as they said their goodbyes and the echo of shovels and voices confirmed Bobby’s rescue. He hung up and Maddie grasped her bag under the desk. She had somewhere to be.

Bobby Nash died on a sunny Thursday afternoon, and he was resurrected in the early hours of a Friday, a week later.

After the funeral, both Buck and Eddie were too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to make small talk. Thankfully, Chris was out of the house at a sleepover organised with some of his LA school friends he hadn’t seen since moving to Texas. They’d anticipated the two of them having a hard time so having the house to themselves was a blessing.

They’d simply gotten home, changed out of their formal clothes and into some loungewear, and crashed together on the bed. Neither slept immediately, too many thoughts and emotions ran in their heads for either to sleep. Instead, they took the opportunity to bask in each other’s comforting presence, enjoying the closeness while mourning what they’d lost.

Buck couldn’t believe how final everything felt. Within a short week, he had saved his team, lost Bobby, and now all that remained of him was a headstone in a graveyard. His chest clenched and his eyes grew wet once again. He felt like all he’d done the past week was cry in this very bed but what else was there to do.

Eddie reached across and ran a thumb across his cheek, collecting up his tears as he silently cried and wiping them away. “Oh Buck.”

His cries turned to sobs and Eddie shuffled forward to pull Buck into the space where his shoulder met his neck. Buck’s arms came up to grasp onto Eddie tight, a lifeline he was relying on to keep him stable.

Eventually, he passed out. The exhaustion, crying, and soothing repetition of Eddie’s hand running across his shoulders put him to sleep.

When he woke, Eddie was no longer in bed. The sun was streaming through the curtains and casting shadows on the floor. From the looks of them, it was early morning and Buck had slept through both the late afternoon and nighttime. 

Eddie stood across the room, speaking into his phone with frantic whispers while pulling on a pair of socks. He was already fully dressed and Buck was confused and a little put out. Surely there was nothing so urgent the day after they’d buried Bobby that it needed this level of urgency.

His disappointment was quickly squashed and replaced with his own sense of urgency as Eddie noticed he was awake and spoke.

“Bobby’s alive, they’ve taken him to Presbyterian.” 

Eddie drove them to the hospital. Buck had been shaking so hard he’d barely managed to pull a shirt over his head and put a pair of jeans on, there was no way he’d been in a state to drive. So full of nervous energy, Buck spent the journey through the streets of LA vibrating out of his seat and being shot warning looks of concern from Eddie.

The parking lot outside the hospital was already full of cars. Buck could spot Hen’s and Chim’s just from where their parking space was. He couldn’t see the licence plate but guessed the haphazardly parked one close to the doors was Athena’s, as the only police car around, he’s sure of it.

They only just managed to contain themselves enough to walk up to the nurses’ desk, but guessed they don’t do a very good job from the way they were stared at. 

“We’re looking for Bobby Nash, he was brought in this morning?” 

The nurse directed them to a nearby ward and Buck barely kept himself from sprinting down the hallway to the room.

Approaching the room, Buck could see Hen and Chim hugging in the hallway. Chim’s chest was shaking as he sobbed, Buck hoped it was from relief.

The watery grin plastered across Chim’s face had the effect of lifting a weight from Buck’s entire body, making him feel like he was walking on pure clouds.

Athena exited the room next to them, tears in her eyes but with undeniable happiness written across her face. Her eyes softened when she spotted Buck, giving him a kind look and tilting her head towards the room she’d just exited.

“He’s waiting for you.”

Buck barely felt himself move towards the door. It was as if something else had taken control of his body, walking him closer and reaching for the door handle without his consent.

He felt himself crash back into his body upon seeing Bobby lay in a hospital bed, giving him that fatherly look he’d been searching for a day prior. Buck choked on a sob, whimpering as he called out “Cap…” 

It came out more like the word Dad than any other time he’d ever said it in his life.

“C’mere kid.”

Buck stumbled as he launched himself towards the bed. Sobs clawed their way out of his throat but Bobby just held him gently, shushing his cries and rubbing his back. Buck was worried he might throw up with how hard his chest heaved in pure, frantic relief .

He babbled apologies and thank yous, all while Bobby simply provided a steady stream of comfort. 

Bobby was okay. He wasn’t even in the ICU, just a regular ward. They’d run the tests, he’d heard Hen say outside, he’s completely clear of the virus. The question of how was a problem for a later time, instead Buck simply held on and cried while Bobby provided comfort through it.

For the second time in 24 hours, Buck passed out after crying himself into exhaustion. Bobby insisted Buck stay there, lay curled to his side and legs hanging off the bed, but with Bobby’s hand running through his hair, it was the safest place he’d ever slept.

Hours later, Buck woke to Bobby’s soft snores above him. He looked around, seeing no one else and guessed they’d left the two of them to sleep.

Buck pulled himself from where he’d attached himself to Bobby’s side, stretching his shoulders out and cracking his neck. His body ached from the position but he felt rested and refreshed in a way he hadn’t for days.

Taking up the more comfortable position of a nearby armchair, that he’d dragged closer to the bed of course, not willing to part Bobby’s side too far, he sat and settled in, watching Bobby as he slept. More specifically watching for the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Likely sensing Buck’s lazer sharp gaze, Bobby awoke and turned to look at him. He huffed out a breath. “Buck, you’d think you’re trying to drill a hole through me with that look.”

Buck startled, meeting his eyes across the bed. Bobby looked at him with soft somewhat sleepy eyes and Buck felt his throat close up again. Determined not to cry, he coughed to release the pressure.

“Bobby…You can’t promise me not to, I know, but please…never do that again.”

Bobby’s gaze turned sad as he watched Buck struggle to maintain his composure. “I’m sorry Buck, but I meant what I said down there. You would’ve been okay.”

“You're gonna be okay Buck, remember that.”

For some reason that did it for Buck. All of his mourning and sadness switched to anger in a violent U-turn. Buck slammed his hands down on the arms of the chair and pinned Bobby with a glare.

“No! No, okay! I wasn’t okay. None of us were okay! You left! You- How could you just leave like that?! And what? Think we're supposed to be okay after that?!” Buck breathing turned heavy as he ranted, all of his anger coming out in one great burst.

“It wasn’t fair! Hen and Chim didn’t even get to say goodbye! Eddie wasn’t even in the state! You died and every one of us fell apart. You can’t do that to us Cap…” 

Throughout Buck’s angry ramble, Bobby lay in the bed, accepting of Buck’s rage knowing it came from a palace of deep hurt.

Eventually he ran out of steam, flopping back into the chair with a sad pout. Bobby stayed silent, waiting for Buck to speak again.

“I didn’t…”

He went quiet again.

“You didn't, what Buck?”

Buck paused and the quiet beep of machinery around them were the only sounds.

“...I didn’t get to say it back.”

Instantly Bobby knew what Buck was referring to and tears spring to his eyes. “I know, kid, I know.”

Buck appeared to deflate after that, sinking into his chair with his head resting on the bed. Bobby placed his hand on top of Buck’s head, petting him gently with his thumb.

“...I love you too, Cap.” Buck’s words were muffled by the bed he’d smushed his face into, but Bobby heard the quiet confession all the same as if he’d yelled it. Buck called him ‘Cap’ more than he called him ‘Pops’ these days but Bobby felt like ‘Cap’ had taken on more meaning now than ‘Pops’ had had in those early days anyway.

“We’ll be okay, kid.”

Buck raised his head to meet Bobby’s gaze.

“We’ll be okay.”