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The moment Buck opened his eyes, misery hit him like a physical blow.
He woke up feeling tired, sluggish. But yesterday had been a marathon of panic, running all over the city looking for Chris and Abigail, fight or flight response triggering constantly all day. Finally seeing them stroll casually through Eddie’s front door, safe the whole time, filled him with a relief so great he didn’t even mind the adrenaline crash that came immediately afterwards.
No wonder Buck felt hungover, despite not having anything to drink. It was an emotional hangover, brought on by his inability to contain his love and worry for Chris, even when he was supposed to be strong for Eddie. He couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened.
There was nothing he could do about it, though. Any of it. No choice but to drag himself out of bed and get ready for work. They were already going to be a man down- Eddie was staying home with Chris after the whole ordeal.
Eddie had been so strong the whole time. Clearly upset, angry, his patience for bullshit gone, but he had been level-headed. Methodical in his approach. They had consulted with Athena and the LAPD, canvassed likely areas. Called anyone they could think of who might be able to help. Driven through the neighborhood around Abigail’s group home in Pasadena. Through it all, Eddie had been focused, steadfast, determined to find his son.
Buck had been frantic, thoughts spiraling out of control, perpetually minutes away from breaking down completely. Held back only by the thought that Eddie might need him. Chris might need him. It had been like he was back in the aftermath of the tsunami, wandering through filthy water past bloated corpses, sick dread rising with every hour Chris wasn’t found.
Buck skipped breakfast. The though of food made his stomach curdle, and he was running late anyway. He shivered a little, grabbing his LAFD sweatshirt before running out the door.
***
The coffee at the station smelled terrible, like it had been sitting around since yesterday. Buck wanted to sink into one of the couches and go back to sleep, but the smell of coffee and eggs in the loft was overpowering. He decided it was better to get a jump on his chores anyway, in case the alarm went off first thing.
It took him twice as long as usual to polish the engine, but Eddie wasn’t there to help. If his arms felt like lead, his back and neck stiff and achy, that was just residual tension from their desperate search the day before. Buck wished he could have called out and spent the day with the Diazes, but it wasn’t his place. They should have the chance to spend time together as a family. Still, he would have stayed in a second if they’d asked him.
Buck’s gut started cramping as he finished up with the engine. Just a twinge now and then, but each one made him hunch over a little on instinct. It didn’t help that the station was so cold today. His whole body felt wound tight, unable to relax. Eddie hadn’t texted him. Neither had Chris. Should he text? He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the icon, but he couldn’t do it. They had been through so much. They weren’t responsible for Buck’s emotions. He put the phone away. Leaned over again and sucked in a breath at another stomach cramp.
“Hey, Buck! You lifting today?” Ravi jogged over, gym bag in hand, but stopped short when Buck turned to face him. “Oh, uh, no offense but you don’t look so good, man. Your face is like, gray. Are you okay?”
Of course not, Buck thought. I just spent a full day thinking Chris was in danger. That he might even be… And now everything’s just back to normal like it never happened. Every minute I can’t see Christopher and Eddie right in front of me is agony.
But to Ravi, he just shrugged. “Yeah, of course, just tired. Long day yesterday, you know.”
Ravi clapped him on the shoulder and Buck tried not to flinch. Everything hurt. “Yeah, that whole thing was crazy! I’m so glad Chris is okay. Eddie must be so relieved.”
Buck smiled weakly. “He is. They’re spending the day together, playing hooky.”
“That’s great, man. I’m gonna hit the gym, maybe you should get some rest? And there’s French toast upstairs, courtesy of the Probie. He’s learning fast.”
Buck’s stomach revolted at the mention of food. Saliva flooded his mouth, and he had to focus on swallowing before he could answer. He tried to play it off with a chuckle. “Yeah, Harry’s a natural chef. Model student!”
Just then, the alarm sounded. Buck gritted his teeth and climbed into the engine. Ravi groaned, throwing his gym bag over by the wall and following behind. “Every. Damn. Time.”
***
The scene wasn’t bad, all things considered. Three cars involved in what amounted to little more than a fender bender. The drivers were shaken up, angry at the driver of the first car, who had jammed on the brakes in response to a phone call, but no one was injured.
But even a minor accident was loud and chaotic, the drivers yelling at each other, firefighters running around, Chim shouting instructions and demanding gear. The glare of the dazzling sun on the twisted metal was giving Buck a headache. And even though it was almost midday in sunny LA, he found himself shivering under his turnouts.
He just needed to get through this shift, and then he could get into his hot tub and let his muscles relax. Or he could head over to Eddie’s and hug Christopher and finally feel like the Earth’s gravity was normal again. Unless Eddie preferred to be alone with his son without Buck getting in the way. He dragged himself back over to the engine to help load it up.
The drive back to the station was short, but much rougher than the ride out. Buck felt like his brain had been shaken loose and was rattling around in his skull. He leaned against the window to try to stop the pounding in his head. He didn’t deserve to feel this upset over Chris. He wasn’t Chris’ father. And anyway, Christopher was fine! Everyone was fine. Nothing had really happened, in the end, except a dead phone battery and a little good old-fashioned teenage rebellion.
The constant jostling was messing with his stomach, too. He could feel every bump and swerve in his gut, roiling and churning with mounting intensity. Cold sweat pricked at his skin.
Eddie definitely didn’t want Buck to come over, or he would have said so. Buck had gotten used to thinking of Eddie and Chris as his family, but they hadn’t been like that in months, had they? No, longer. Not since Chris left for Texas, really. It had been too long, it was too late. Bile rose in his throat and he choked it back down.
By the time they arrived at the station, nausea was rolling over Buck in waves. He held onto the door of the engine and concentrated on breathing through his nose. He’d spent the last five minutes just repeating don’t puke in the engine over and over in his head.
Ravi said something behind him as they parked in the app bay, but Buck couldn’t stop to listen. He walked straight back though the locker room to the toilets as calmly as possible, staring at the floor and willing himself not to clap a hand over his mouth.
His abs were already spasming when his knees hit the tile floor. He retched once and then he was vomiting up everything he’d eaten the day before. Not much, fortunately. Just some fast food, lots of gas station coffee. He shuddered at the acidity and heaved again.
Panting, Buck rested his pounding head on his arm. His stomach was still cramping, but the worst of the nausea had receded. He forced himself to stand up. Reminded himself he had no right to feel this way, he was just helping out a friend. His friend’s kid had been missing. And now he was safe.
Buck glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he rinsed out his mouth, and grimaced. His face was covered in a sickly sheen of sweat, eyes bloodshot and teary. His birthmark looked livid against his ashen skin. He felt even worse than he looked, with muscle aches and chills, nausea, headache, dizziness. He had been so determined not to overreact in front of Eddie, while Chris was gone, that now his body was doing it for him. Great. At least Eddie wasn’t here to see it.
It was barely lunchtime, but Buck was wrung out and exhausted. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, and there was no way he could eat anything anyway, the thought alone almost sending him back to the toilet stall again. So he slipped into the bunk room to try to sleep off his funk.
The bunks were predictably empty. Buck collapsed into his bed and passed out.
The next thing his consciousness registered was the alarm, so much louder than usual, boring into his skull. Buck felt like he was resurfacing after a long time spent underwater, struggling to regain control of his senses and coerce his body into action. He was clammy, hot and cold at once, soaked in sweat. He sat up slowly, and the room spun. His stomach rolled threateningly. He closed his eyes again and focused on taking steady breaths in and out. Get up. Gotta go.
There was a clang over the blaring alarm as the bunk room door burst open. Buck forced his eyes open in time to see Chimney step in, take one look at him, and shake his head. “Man behind,” he shouted over the din.
Buck managed the slightest nod, but all his muscles still felt locked up. Chimney was gone before he could say anything. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty about sitting out of the call. It was so hot he could barely breathe. He slumped back into the bunk, pushed all the blankets as far away as he could to escape the suffocating heat, and let sleep overtake him.
Buck must not have slept for long, because he woke up again to the eerie quiet of an empty firehouse. The rest of the 118 were still out. He blinked for a second, unsure what woke him up, willing himself to form a coherent thought. Then his stomach lurched violently. He struggled to sit up but his head was swimming, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. Then it was too late. His stomach convulsed and he threw up, hard, just over the side of the bed. He gagged, vomited again, and let his head fall down against the edge of the bunk.
All Buck could do after that was groan into the mattress and pull the thin blanket back up over his shoulder. Everything was still drenched in sweat but he was shaking with cold again. He made no move to clean up the mess, couldn’t even think about it beyond occasionally gagging at the smell. He just drifted in and out of consciousness, between dark nothing and too-bright-too-loud people around him. At some point he vomited again, just more of that never-ending acidic bile. He felt hands on his back and forehead, a sharp poke in his arm. Then more nothing. The nothing was better. It didn’t hurt.
The next time Buck came to, he felt slightly more human. Conscious thought seemed within reach. He moved his left arm and felt the deep, unnatural scratch of an IV. He was still sweaty, but not as freezing. His head felt like it was being held in a vise grip, but he wasn’t as dizzy as before. His stomach was cramping but the discomfort stayed around his abdomen rather than taking over his body and creeping up toward his throat. And best of all, a warm, strong hand was holding his.
Buck could feel the light against his eyelids, too bright, but he had to know for sure. He pried one eye open and squinted, the brightness making him wince. Eddie was sitting next to him, one hand intertwined with his and the other smoothing his hair. As soon as Eddie realized Buck was awake, he yanked the second hand back. Neither of them could bring themselves to untangle their fingers.
Buck’s head was being stabbed, but also stuffed with cotton. His mouth tasted vile, like something had died in there three days ago. It took real effort to speak, but he couldn’t help smiling.
“Eddie?”
“Hey, Buck. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Even after his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, Eddie had a shimmering haze around him. Thats because he’s the best person in the whole world, Buck’s fevered brain supplied. He blinked hard, trying to focus.
“What’re you-”
“Chim called me. You’re pretty sick, huh? You were severely dehydrated and totally out of it when they came back and found you in here.”
Buck felt the panic rising. No, no, who cares, what about- “Chris?”
Eddie smiled. “He’s fine, he’s at home. I locked the deadbolt and told him not to open the door for anyone. He’ll be okay until we get back.”
“Until we-?” Buck still felt like his thoughts were being filtered through a foot of mud. It sounded like Eddie was suggesting Buck come home with him. That couldn’t be right.
Now Eddie looked concerned. He placed the back of his hand against Buck’s forehead and along his temple. Buck wanted to reach up and smooth out the divot between his eyebrows, but he couldn’t coordinate how to move his hand.
“I came to take you home. To my place, I mean. They gave you meds for the fever, and IV fluids, so as long as I’m there to take care of you, you shouldn’t need to go to the hospital. But we’ll see.” Now Eddie’s sincerity turned lightly teasing. “I know you’re a terrible patient, but if you don’t listen to me, that’s where you’re going.”
“No, Eddie, y’don’t have to. Could you jus’ drop me off at home? I’ll be fine.” The words came out slurred, even to Buck’s ear.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not leaving you alone like this. Buck, you almost aspirated your own vomit a couple hours ago. You were so dehydrated they could barely wake you up. You’ve been sick all day, haven’t you? And no one noticed?”
“Can take care of myself.”
Eddie smirked a little, then immediately softened. “Debatable. But also, you don’t have to. You’re family. You, me, Chris, we’re family. We take care of each other.”
Buck smiled at that. He could feel himself slipping back into sleep. Any other time, he would have argued with Eddie about it, but right now he just wanted it to be true so badly. He closed his eyes. “Wish we were a family.”
***
Two hours later, Buck’s IV fluids were done and his fever was down. He managed to walk out to Eddie’s truck with minimal help. Eddie opened the passenger side door and threw his bag into the back. Buck must have dozed off again, because they were parking in Eddie’s driveway before he knew it.
“It’s getting late, do you think you could eat something? Chicken soup? I think I still have some of Pepa’s caldo de pollo in the freezer.”
Buck’s stomach clenched and he gagged a little before he could stop himself. “I’m good. Might be done with food forever, actually.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Okay, Gatorade at least? I have that nasty blue kind you like.”
Buck couldn’t help but smile. “Blue is the best and you know it.”
Eddie stuck out his tongue. “No way. Everyone knows red is the best. I have some of that too, if you want it. But you should drink something, at least, before you sleep.”
Buck had to scoff at that. “Eddie, you know red doesn’t have any medicinal properties.”
They were still arguing about sports drinks when they walked into the house. Buck stumbled toward the couch, but he was intercepted by Chris. Through a careful hug, Chris mumbled, “I’m sorry you’re sick. I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to scare you so much yesterday.”
Buck was suddenly dangerously close to crying. “Love you, pal,” he managed. They didn’t let go until Eddie nudged Buck’s shoulder and handed him a bottle.
The Gatorade was ice cold, so Buck managed to choke some of it down, but he was also shivering again. Eddie put an arm around him and started pulling him toward the hallway.
“Okay, bed for you, come on.”
“No way, Eddie, I don’t want you to get sick too. Couch is fine.”
Eddie gave him his best Dad look. “I don’t think so. Bed. Now. I’ll get a trash can for you just in case.”
Chris wrinkled his nose at that and turned toward his room. “Night, Buck. Night, Dad.”
They waved goodnight, and then Eddie cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Buck. Buck was too exhausted to argue any more. “Okay, fine.”
Yawning, fading fast, Buck allowed Eddie to lead him to the bedroom and push him down into the bed. He felt the mattress dip as Eddie climbed in on the other side. Eddie’s fingers traced gentle, calming patterns over his back. He’d never done that before, but it was comforting. Buck felt some of his tension melt away.
“Hey,” Eddie’s voice was soft, like he didn’t really want to stop Buck from falling asleep. “Is this why you left so early yesterday? You weren’t feeling well? Chris and I turned around and you were gone.”
“No, I just thought you guys could use some space. It was all… so much. I thought I should get out of your hair.” Buck didn’t mention he had sobbed in his truck in his own driveway and had to do box breathing to calm down enough to go inside.
Eddie kept rubbing his back. He sighed. “You’re never ‘in our hair.’ I didn't want you to leave.”
Buck didn’t understand. His head was still fuzzy. “You know what I mean. It was family time.”
“You keep saying that like you’re not part of this family. I’m trying to tell you that you are. Buck. I didn’t want you to leave yesterday. I never want you to leave. I didn’t even want you to move out.”
The words slipped through Buck’s mind like sand. He wished like hell he could hold onto them. They sounded wrong to his ear, but also… important?
“Never want to leave you, Eddie.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but it was the truth.
Buck couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Pay attention, stay awake!
He felt warm lips pressed to his cold, sweaty forehead. Felt the imprint of the kiss even after Eddie moved back. It felt like a brand. Like he was claimed. God, he wanted so desperately to be claimed. He was so tired. He was only human. He let himself believe it.
Through the veil, he imagined he heard Eddie’s voice.
“Then stay.”