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Eddie can feel little fireworks of excitement ignite and make their way through his nervous system. He is so close.
Almost there , he thinks as he watches the almost dark sky through his plane window, the L.A city lights tiny little dots in the distance that get bigger and bigger by the second.
“Not a fan of flying?”
Eddie startles and turns around, gazing at the old man next to him. He slept for most of the flight and didn't even bother Eddie with snores or drooling, so he manages to give him a small and polite smile.
The guy probably got tired of Eddie's jerky knee or his hands constantly drumming against the armrests.
“Just really excited to finally be home.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. And, because he is a lovesick fool and can't help himself, he keeps talking. “I haven't seen my, uh, husband and son in months— apart from shitty facetime calls, of course.”
At this point, it is just another vital function of Eddie’s body. He breathes, his blood runs through his veins, and he talks about Buck and Christopher, about the little family that— against all odds and with every possible obstacle on his way— Eddie somehow managed to build.
They made it , as his husband would always say.
He really loves talking to strangers about Buck and Chris. And listen, Eddie's never been much of a talker. He hates small talk and usually chooses to keep to himself. He used to be the shy, awkward kid at school until pretty much seventh grade, and that's just because he joined the baseball team after and the team kind of adopted him, took him under their wings.
But something about talking about Buck and Chris? Something about loving them with his whole heart, makes Eddie want to shout from the rooftops. As cliché and cheesy as that might sound. (Of course his army friends must know about the A that Chris got on his math exam and surely, they need to hear about this impressive rescue Buck did. The cashier at the grocery store definitely needs to hear about how Eddie's husband is allergic to peanuts but his son loves them and as a result, Eddie lives in constant terror with an EpiPen always on reach.)
And, because he is even more of a sucker, Eddie takes the tiny little picture that he keeps in his pocket and unfolds it, showing it to the man.
He didn't ask for it and he probably doesn't care, but the guy takes the picture in his hands with an amused little smile. “Lucky you. Seems like a lovely family.”
“They are,” Eddie can't help but to preen at the words. Pride and affection and all encompassing devotion swirling in his stomach as he takes the picture back and puts it on the inside of his chest pocket again.
“I'm Harvey, by the way.” The man extends a hand.
“Eddie,” He says as he stretches Harvey's hand over the seat.
“You know, you remind me of mys—”
Before Harvey can finish the sentence, their seats jerk harshly and Eddie's body would've jumped and hit the ceiling if it wasn't for his seat belt keeping him in place, digging painfully against his abdomen and making Eddie groan and yelp in shock.
What the hell?
Eddie grips the armrest tightly as the violent jolts send drinks flying and the overhead compartments start to rattle ominously.
The turbulence intensifies, causing the plane to lurch and sway erratically. Oxygen masks drop from the ceiling, and panicked cries fill the air.
Not now, not now. God please, not now. Not when I'm so close to home. Not when they're waiting for me. Eddie thinks.
He's thought a lot about death. Of course he has. It comes with the territory when you spend months stuck in a warzone or when your husband runs into burning buildings for a living. It comes with the chaos and hecticness that are their lives.
But Eddie, innocently, foolishly, never thought he’d die just a few minutes away from finally being home. He never thought it'd be like this. So terrifying and sudden, so completely out of his control.
So fucking petrifying.
The plane shudders, as if caught in the grip of some unseen titan, sending passengers lurching in their seats. It bucks and pitches with increasing ferocity. It feels as though they're being tossed about like a leaf in a storm, and when Eddie dares to look through his window, he sees the wing of the aircraft caught on fire, pieces of metal parting and disintegrating. Smoke spilling into the night sky and mixing with the dark clouds as panic around Eddie rises and rises.
Eddie mutters a curse through gritted teeth.
Eddie does the one thing he thinks of doing at the face of his last minutes alive.
He reaches for his phone.
—
“9-1-1, what's your emergency?”
“M-Maddie? Is that you?”
Maddie blinks and pauses for a second, processing what she just heard. The last thing, the last voice , she's been expecting to hear on the other side of the line is no other than her baby brother's husband.
The last time she'd seen him was almost six months ago, when Buck and Eddie got married. It had been a small wedding in Bobby's backyard, with fairy lights hanging around and some old rock music playing in the background. They couldn't have been more than fifteen people in total but if you'd seen the way they only had eyes for each other? You'd say they were the only two people in the whole wide universe, everyone else fading away.
They'd eaten pizza and some snacks made by Bobby, drank cheap beer and danced all night. Buck always talks about that night like the second best day of his life (The first one was the day he met Eddie and Chris, of course.)
Buck's also been blowing up her phone all day, rambling about his welcome back plans for Eddie.
Maddie's heart spikes at the thought. It's probably not a very good sign that the man is calling her.
Not her.
9-1-1.
“Eddie, what's going on? Where are you?” Maddie tries to keep calm and hates the way her voice trembles against her will. Her hands hover over the keyboard as she takes deep breaths and decidedly does not think about her baby brother's worried, pained face when he finds out about this.
“Please, please, look. I don't have a lot of time.” Eddie’s voice is shaking and crackling, strained with the struggle of keeping his tears at bay. Maddie can heat metal creaking in the background, screams of panic and terror and of things hitting the ground.
“Eddie, is your plane going down?”
“I-I need to say something to Buck. Will you just let me do that?”
Maddie takes in a shuddering breath, tears quickly swelling in her eyes. Josh shoots her a concerned look from the other side of the room and starts walking towards her, Maddie shakes her head. She needs to do this. She needs to be the one to listen to Eddie. Buck will need her there when all of this is over.
“Yeah,” Her voice comes out small and barely a whisper. She clears her throat and tries again, “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Just tell him that I… I was thinking about him, yeah? That I’m always thinking about him. And our son. That if I die now, I died happy, knowing I got to have the two of them in my life, even if our time was cut too short.”
Maddie makes a hurt little sound at the back of her throat and she covers her mic with his hand, so Eddie won’t hear her struggling not to cry.
By now, Josh and Linda are at her shoulders, listening to the call with twin faces of pain and worry. She wants to scream, she wants to run. She shouldn’t- She shouldn’t be listening to the desperate love confession of a dying man. It feels too rae and too intimate and meant only for Buck’s ears. She feels like an intruder.
But she keeps listening, knowing Eddie deserves to say his peace.
“Buck, baby-” A whimper breaks Eddie’s voice. More screams rise in the background, making it almost impossible to hear the guy’s words. “I love you so much. I love this family the two of us have made. You hear me? And even if this was temporary, if this is the end of my story, even if I’m temporary, and if I’m about to- ” Eddie can’t say it again but the meaning is clear,” My love for you isn’t. My love for you is infinite.”
“And I promise you, babe, that I'm gonna watch over you both. Always. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or if God really exists but not even him or the greatest forces in the universe could ever stop me from protecting you two, okay?”
Maddie covers her eyes with a hand and feels Josh rest his on her shoulders, trying to bring her even the tiniest bit of comfort.
She’s been there to protect Buck since they were kids, she was the one to kiss his scratches when he would fall from the bike. She was the one to patch him up when their parents were too busy drowning in their own grief to notice they still have two kids to take care of. Maddie’s been there for Buck through his first heartbreak, his first high school break-up, through broken arms and bruised ribs and bloody noses. And she’s always found the way to make it better for him, to get even the dimmest of smiles.
How is Maddie supposed to protect her baby brother now? How is she supposed to make any of this better?
She can’t, and the fact is killing her.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there to watch Chris grow and turn into the amazing young man I know he’ll be. I’m sorry I won’t be there to dance with you in the kitchen while I laugh at how awful your moves are. I’m sorry that my side of the bed will remain empty and cold, and I know how much you hate it. I’m sorry I won’t get to hear you laugh anymore or that I won’t get to embarrass Chris in front of his friends anymore. I’m sorry that I’ll miss a lifetime of memories and kisses and of you .”
Tears are running freely now, down Maddie’s cheeks. A sob tears its way out of her as she thinks of all the things Eddie will probably miss. Buck told her of their plan to buy a fixer upper, to flip the house and work on it and make a home for themselves. (He’s sent her countless links to vintage furniture and all the different kinds of woods that exist out there. He’s talked to her about wanting to surprise Eddie with maybe an extra room for more kids, talked about his dream of fostering and maybe even adopting. Maddie knows about all of their plans and it makes all of this even that much bitter, that much harder, that much more heart-wrenching.)
“I'm so sorry that I cannot come home to you. I’m sorry that I have to break this promise.” Eddie gasps, as if he’s in physical pain. “Take care of yourself, yeah? I know it’s gonna be hard and I know that the plan was to grow old together, to have gray hair and a million wrinkles all over our bodies and have our grandchildren running around as we sit on the porch. I know I’m leaving you, and you can be mad at me, you can be sad, but you cannot give up, you hear me? I need you to be strong for Chris, okay? I need you to tell him that I-”
Maddie hears the tell tale sound of the call cutting off and fear runs its icy fingers down her spine, as she straightens and pushes her chair closer to her desk.
“Are you still there?” She asks, even if she already knows the answer to that. “Eddie?”
The call is over.
-
“Damn, Buckaroo, calm down. You’re making me anxious.” Hen sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that shift.
And listen, Buck knows he’s being a pain in the ass. He knows he’s been stress cleaning the station all day and has burned their lunch and has been driving the team insane with his restless energy and bouncy knees and constant checking of his phone. He is well aware, alright?
It’s just that-
His husband is coming home. After months and months of being separated, of having to make do with shitty facetime calls that are always fucking glitchy and that last way too little for his taste, of having to deal with sleepless nights and an empty and cold bed… the wait is finally over. This was Eddie’s last tour and they can now begin the rest of their lives. No more long distance, no more fear of some bomb taking out the love of Buck’s life, no more terror of having some official from the military knocking on his door to let him know Eddie’s gone MIA or whatever.
Their blue skies start now. And maybe that’s foolish of him to think, life is nothing more than unpredictable and it comes with its fair share of heartbreak and hard times, but Buck likes to think they get to be happy now. At least for a couple of years before they have to deal with anything serious. That’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Karma or the universe or whatever?
Edide would scoff at him for these thoughts, would probably roll his eyes and shake his head in exasperated fondness, would tell Buck that that crap isn’t real. That life is random and unfair and they just have to make the best of it, control what they can and let be what they cannot. And Buck would just kiss him silly to shut him the fuck up, probably.
“You’re doing it again.” Chimney practically whines as he throws himself on the opposite side of the couch at the station loft.
“Doing what again?” Buck startles and can’t help it when he feels the heat rush to his cheeks.
“Smiling creepily at nothing while probably thinking inappropriate thoughts about your husband. That gotta be sexual harassment or something, right? This is not a safe work environment for me.” Chimney says dramatically and Buck rolls his eyes, throwing a pillow at his brother-in-law’s face.
“Oh my God, shut up.”
“You’re this close to make me pass best uncle privileges to Albert.” Chimney threatens, pointing a finger at him, while Hen snickers in the background.
The retort Buck was about to throw, dies in his lips as the sirens start wailing and the alarm rings. blasting all over the station, the announcement over the P.A requesting extra back-up and ambulances for a plane crash.
The banter is quickly forgotten as they suit up and hop on the trucks, Buck’s heart starting to beat frantically inside his chest. It’s probably not Eddie’s plane, right? He’s probably already at the airport, about to send him a message that he landed safely and maybe even a silly selfie with Chris and Carla, taunting him since Buck is stuck at work.
Buck will probably come home to his boys cuddling on the couch and Eddie will turn to him with a soft, little smile that’s just reserved for him,and he’ll whisper “ Welcome home” over Christopher´s head, stealing the words right out of Buck’s mouth, the bastard.
The picture he paints in his head feels so real, so vivid, that Buck can almost trick himself into believing he’s there right now. And he basks in the domesticity, the warmth that the thought of it makes him feel the whole way to the site of the plane crash.
Buck's never seen anything like it, not once on his time as a firefighter— and trust him, he's seen some shit.
The plane is half sunken into the water, surrounded by fire and people jumping and screaming for help, their arms flailing in desperation as they slowly drown. Smoke covering the entire scene, making everything look foggy and surreal and fading into the night sky.
He manages to delude himself that what he's been imagining in head to not lose it completely, will be his future, while he’s getting the equipment out of the engine. Thinks about Eddie’s soft eyes locking into his while he helps the team get the rescue boat from the coast guard. Thinks of Eddie’s arms wrapping around him while the cold water of the sea hugs his ankles, seeps through his clothes and makes tiny needles of pain crash against his skin.
The water is freezing and even when they're inside the small boat, he feels the air against his skin hit him like a slap to his face, raising goosebumps all over him.
“How's the water on fire?” He doesn't even realize he muttered this, until Bobby turns to him with a solemn expression etched on his face.
“That's jet fuel.”
Buck doesn't even hear him over the sound of the helicopter whirring above them and the constant background noise of indistinct screaming.
“I count 12 to 15 victims on the wings. At least 30 in the water.” Hen screams and Buck has to swallow down the nausea, forcing himself to focus. To stay calm. To keep a level head.
He tries not to linger on the dead bodies floating around, covered in blood and fire, the lost limbs that once belonged to someone else. Tries not to look at the clothes and socks and random items scattered throughout like a twisted trail of clues guiding them into hell.
Buck tries not to dwell on the ones they were too late to save. Tries not to think about Eddie maybe being one of them.
He isn't.
A wave almost knocks their boat down. Buck feels a silver of panic fizzling inside of him, bubbling just under the surface. He pushes it down.
They don't have much time until the plane is completely lost under the water.
Eddie isn't there, though. It's okay.
He repeats it like a mantra, It’s not Eddie’s plane, It’s not Eddie’s plane, all the way until he can’t say it anymore. Until he’s face to face with the one thing he wished wouldn’t happen. Until he’s facing his biggest fear, his nightmare comes true.
Buck should've known better.
He felt it.
He felt something was wrong the minute the alarm started to ring. He knew deep down, it had been Eddie's plane. Call it a sixth sense or a freaky sort of telepathic bond, maybe the years of being a first responder that trained him to always think of the worst case scenario. But Buck felt it in his bones.
And now he can't guard or hide himself in denial and imaginary scenarios anymore. Can't tell himself Eddie is safe and sound until his heart starts to believe it.
He isn't.
Eddie is right in front of him, with blood running down his face, ghis nose, his neck. There's a bruise on his right cheek that is already a deep, angry, violent purple. His hair that usually is soft and fluffy is now sweaty and sticking to his temples, blood matting some of it.
His uniform is torn apart at the arm, covered in blood and dirt as well, looking worse for wear.
Someone near him lets out an animalistic, guttural kind of sound. A scream that tears through the person's throat in pure devastation.
Belatedly, Buck realizes it comes from himself.
“Eddie! Eddie, baby.” Buck screams and fights his way to his husband, the water reaching his waist by the time he stops in front of Eddie's seat. There's no one next to him or around, not for a few feet at least— most people having been saved already or having drowned a while ago. Buck thinks he might hear a couple stuck in the bathroom at the back and hears Hen help a man a few meters away from him.
Buck's whole word reduces down to Eddie, though.
Buck makes a hurt, whimpering sound at the back of his throat, his hands hovering over Eddie as he takes in the damage and assesses the situation.
He thinks Bobby and Hen yell something but he doesn’t care.
“I'm gonna get you out here, okay? I promise. i just—”
“You're real?” Eddie mutters, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he slowly blinks at him, his gaze hazy like he's just waking up or coming out of a dream. “ ‘re h'ere.” Eddie slurs as his head tilts to the side, as if it's too heavy to keep it straight.
Buck forces himself once again, to swallow the panic down.
“I'm here. baby, I've got you.” His voice cracks and Buck shakes his head as he focuses on what he needs to do next. Eddie seems to be trapped in between the seats
Buck licks his lips nervously and pulls with all his strength, leaning backwards and using his weight as leverage.
The shriek that Eddie lets out, loud and pained, sharp and shrill that feels like a knife being twisted into Buck's heart, makes him let go of the seat
Bobby is next to them in the next second, his eyes wide and scared but focused. Calmer than Buck, that's for sure.
“His leg is pinned.” Bobby says and Buck's blood turns cold, freezing in his veins. “Easy, easy.”
Eddie groans and shuts his eyes closed, throwing his head back as his arms reach to hold his pinned leg, as if that would stop the overwhelming pain crashing over him like a damn hurricane, leaving him breathless and panting.
Buck looks down and sees a metal rod sticking out of Eddie’s tight, crimson blood pooling out of the injury and dissipating as the water moves and waves rush over them, everytime more and more intense as the plane sinks just an inch more.
It's ugly and big and it reminds Buck of when his own leg was crushed under a fire engine. He feels sick.
“Bobby, go evacuate everyone else.” Buck swallows thickly and nods to himself. There's still people on the plane and Hen is struggling to help all of them. They're running out of time. “I've got it here—”
“Go! I— I'll figure something out.” Buck says, even though he's struggling to find the conviction in his voice.
Bobby hesitates for a few seconds but he knows Buck is right, and after a beat of silence, he reluctantly nods as he starts to pull away. “I'll be back, okay?”
Buck nods but doesn't dignify that with an answer, too busy trying to figure out how to get Eddie away from there.
“You're wet,” Eddie slurs, a weak hand coming to cup Buck's cheek as he leans forward, trying to get a good grip on the piece of metal stabbing Eddie's leg. “You're gonna get a cold.”
Buck chuckles wetly, bitterly. “ That's what you're worried about? Eddie. ” He shakes his head. “God, you're such a dork.”
A ghost of a smile graces Eddie’s lips before he frowns and winces in pain. “Buck.”
“It's okay. I'll get you out of here.” Buck shushes him. “Just— gimme a minute, okay?”
“You need to leave.”
“What?” He whips his head up, his eyes falling back on Eddie's. “You're insane if you think I'd ever walk away from you. That I'd ever leave you to die here.”
“The plane is sinking.” Eddie states, matter of factly, he blinks and his gaze clears just a little bit more. “And I'm going down with it.”
The water is now almost hitting Eddie’s chest. Everyone has evacuated already, he's pretty sure. And Buck feels like a tender bruise, achy and broken.
“If you go down, then I'll go down with you. I don't fucking care, Eddie!” Buck feels the sting of tears in his eyes, Eddie's hand moves slowly, his thumb brushing them away delicately and in their wake, leaving a trail of blood instead.
Buck can't bring himself to care.
“What about Christopher? He needs at least one of his dads alive.”
That's like a sucker punch to the stomach. Because Eddie is right and selfishly, Buck wants to ignore him. Selfishly, foolishly, recklessly, Buck keeps fighting.
“He needs both of his dads alive.” He mutters, counts to three in his head, and pulls.
Eddie shouts and howls, trashing against the seat.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby.” Buck whispers under his breath, trying to make it as fast as possible, trying with every cell in his body to be strong enough to save him.
But he—
He can't.
A sob escapes his lips and he pulls again, both of his hands gripping the rod as firm as he can but the water makes it slippery and the waves keep pushing him backwards, forcing him to fight against the current.
Buck's never been a religious man. He grew up in a silent house and trips to church were never even a thought in his mind— he doubts his parents would've cared enough to take him, anyway. He thinks maybe they did believe, before Daniel, before Buck failed them.
The point is, Buck's never been religious. He never really believed in God, but in a vague higher power maybe.
In that moment, though, Buck prays.
As the water rises around them, hitting Eddie's chin and wrapping around Buck like a blanket of tiny little knives stabbing his skin, Buck prays to make it out of there alive with his husband.
As he pulls and pulls at the metal stuck in Eddie's leg, and fights against the waves pulling him in every direction, Buck prays for God to give him this one thing. This one tiny miracle after all the shit he's been through. (Even though, maybe the miracle all along has been knowing Eddie in the first place. Maybe all along, the miracle was having Eddie love Buck, so wholly and unconditionally.)
Buck feels his lungs struggling for air, his chest tightening and alarms going off on his body, begging, pleading with him to take a breath.
A wave crashes over them and Buck goes tumbling through the water. He breaks through the surface again and gasps for air.
“Buck, please, you need to leave.” Eddie is shaking and up to this moment, Buck's never ever seen him quite this terrified. His eyes are wide and defeated, like he's accepted his destiny, but wants Buck to be no part of it. “Just— I left you a message, okay? Ask Maddie for it.”
“W-what?” Buck grips the backrest of Eddie's seat and pushes himself closer.
“I called 9-1-1. while the plane was going down. Left a message in case I didn't—” Eddie gasps and a tiny, sad smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I'm glad I got to see you one last time, though.”
“Stop! Do not give up on me, you hear me?” Buck trembles and he lurches forward cupping Eddie’s cheek in one hand. “Don't you dare. ”
Buck kisses him. Even when the time is ticking by quickly and against them, Buck gives himself one second to brush his lips against his husband— not as goodbye. Never as goodbye. But as a promise. It tastes like blood and salt water, like despair and anger, like frustration and fear. It tastes like a plea, like its own kind of prayer— Don't go and I love you.
Hold on to me.
Stay.
Fight.
Live.
Buck pulls away and his eyes dart all over Eddie's face. “We're gonna be okay, alright? I'm gonna get us out of here.” He nods to himself, not sure who is trying to convince more.
Adrenaline courses through his veins and he keeps fighting. Keeps praying. Keeps swimming.
“Buck,” At first he thinks the voice calling his name is Eddie, and Buck braces himself for another fight, for another wasted moment of time trying to convince his husband that they both can get out of here if he just gave Buck a moment to think of a plan.
Buck is wet to the fucking bone, covered in blood and dirt and exhausted from trying to pull the fucking rod out of Eddie's leg. He's about to snap, when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.
Je sees Bobby there, and is both relaxed and at the same time even more scared than he was before.
“I told you to leave.”
“I'm your Captain, I don't take orders from you.” There's a tiny smile playing in Bobby's lips, soft and solemn in equal measure, somehow.
The water is making it hard to stand on solid feet, Bobby floating and trying to stay close to them as he reaches over. “Here! Take this rope, tie it to the seat!”
The water rushes and Bobby slips further away.
“Bobby! Cap!”
Water surges, another wave submerging them as Buck fights and kicks his feet, the rope still tight in his hand. Holding his breath is painful and trying to see underwater maje his eyes sting, but he makes out the shape of the metal rod and tries the best he can to tie a tight knot around it with numb, shaky fingers.
He sees Eddie’s face, wide petrified eyes, some bubbles coming out of his mouth as he tries not to breathe.
Buck doesn't want this to be the last thing he sees of him. He doesn't want this to be their final moment.
How could this happen? Just this morning he'd awoken to a text from eddie, telling him he was just about to board his plane and that he'd be home soon.
Just that morning, Buck and Chris had made a thousand plans for the weekend to make up for all the time they've lost with Eddie.
Just that morning Buck had asked Maddie if her and Chim would want to have a double date next week. Trivia night, Buck had suggested. Because Eddie loves when Buck gets all bossy and competitive— and Buck thought it was a sure way to have some little fun in the car afterwards, silly and thrilling at the same time, like two hormonal teenagers in love.
Just that morning, Buck's been fill with plans for a lifetime. He's been happy and hopeful .
And now it's rhe evening and the world is about to end. Buck's word is about to be ripped away from him.
Unexpectedly, miraculously , someone grasps at Buck— wraps their arm around him in a firm grip. At first, he fights it, and then he realizes what's going on.
It's not over.
He is fast and quick, reaching for eddie and begging him with his eyes to grab his hand— The moment Eddie's fingers wrap around Buck's, the moment Buck has a secure grip on his husband, as they're being lifted out of the water by the rescue helicopter? That might be the moment he believes there's a God up there, Buck has to admit.
When his head breaks through the surface, Buck gasps and takes a deep breath, his lungs expanding in relief.
He looks down at Eddie and smiles, laughs in disbelief and awe.
“Told you I was gonna get us out of there!” He yells, as loud as he can over the noise.
“Pretty sure the helicopter is doing that! Not you!” Eddie screams back, a small but beatiful smile gracing his lips. Buck's never been happier.
—
By the time they're at the hospital, Buck feels like he's been run over by a truck, twice. He feels exhausted to the very bone and on the verge of passing out.
The waiting room's chair is uncomfortable, digging into the middle of his back and making him groan in irritation. The TV stuck to the high part of the wall, opposite to him, is showing the scene at the beach where there's still victims of the crash being triaged, where they're still identifying the dead bodies.
Buck looks away and swallows thickly, his throat feeling like fucking sandpaper as he does.
He still hasn't heard anything about Eddie. They ripped him away from him as soon as they got to the ER, the doctors pulling him away and telling Buck that they need to work on Eddie, that he most likely needs surgery for his leg, that they'd update him as soon as they find out more.
The thing is, Buck's never been the best at patience. Especially not when it comes to Eddie's health.
They have to tell him, he's on all of Eddie’s paperwork, he comforts himself. He is Eddie's emergency contact, his power of attorney should the worst happen.
He's really got to stop thinking about the worst that could happen. Eddie 's alive. They're safe. The worst is behind them.
So, Buck waits. He distracts himself by texting Maddie and Carla. Accepts the coffee Bobby offers him with a tired but grateful smile.
Maddie Sis: Incoming Jee picture [image attached]
The cutest picture of his niece is exactly what Buck needs right now. She's sitting in the kitchen counter with half hee face covered in chocolate, giving an adorable toothy smile to the camera. She's wearing that pink princess dress Buck got her for her birthday and a tiara, a half eaten chocolate next to her.
Buck: thnks, mads. ily.
And then, because he can't help himself:
Buck: did eddie call u when the plane was going down?
It takes a long time for Maddie to answer him. Or maybe it just takes a few seconds. Buck doesn't know anymore.
Maddie: Yeah but dw about that right now. Let me know when you have any news?
Buck: yeah, ok. ill call u.
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face.
“What do you think it's going on?” He asks to Bobby.
The doctors are taking a really long time getting back to him. It doesn't take this long to do x-rays and a CT if nothing is overly wrong. And how long can the surgery on Eddie's leg really take? Are they gonna have to amputate? Is Buck gonna have to make that decision for him?
He can't—
Eddie is not—
His phone buzzes, jolting him out of his spitaling.
Carla: Chris wants to go to the hospital. Should we? Is everything okay?
Buck: can u tell him to wait til the morning? its pretty late and i dont want him to spend the night here.
He's in the middle of debating if he should just call Chris to reassure him, when a nurse finally walks in. "Family of Eddie Diaz?"
"Yes." Buck shoots to his feet, aware that he's still kinda wet and grimy from the scene. He's probably leaving a small trail of dirt and wet sand in his wake when he crosses the floor. He'd barely remembered to wash his hands when the doctors took Eddie back. "Evan Buckley-Diaz, I'm the husband. Is he- Is he okay?”
“He is,” The nurse smiles and motions for him to follow her and Buck spares just one glance back to Bobby, who waves him away and gestures to his phone, saying he'll update the rest of the team. "Extremely bruised and with two cracked ribs. His shoulder was initially cause for concern, but it's not broken. The inflammation around the joint is pretty severe— we've got him on some powerful anti-inflammatories, and he's going to want to keep it immobile for a while."
"A while?"
"At least a couple of weeks. It was dislocated, but we've put it back in place- he was sedated for that, given the state of his side and back. He'll be waking up in the next twenty minutes or so, probably. Once the drugs start to wear off.." She leads Buck through the maze of hallways before stopping to exchange one file for another at the nurse's station.
“Okay, yeah.” Buck nods and swallows harshly. “Uh, what about h-his leg? Is it gonna be okay?”
“The doctors were able to clean the wound and close it, but because of all the waste in the water, we are concerned about a possible infection. We'll have to keep a pretty close eye on that as well and he will also have to rest it for at least a couple of weeks, if not a month. Maybe more, depending on how it’s healing.”
Buck swallows tightly and nods. "Thank you. That's… good, right?”
The nurse hums, a hint of a smile curving her lips as she looks up to him. “He was very lucky, Mr. Buckley. You guys will be out of here before you know it.”
And then she points behind Buck, her voice soft and gentle when she speaks. "He's in there. A doctor will be by shortly to discuss aftercare and discharge. They might want to keep him for a couple of days for post-op and observation and to make sure there's no risk of infection."
"Thanks," Buck says over his shoulder, already moving towards the room.
He opens the door slowly. Eddie's asleep, propped mostly upright in the bed— probably to ease the pressure on his ribs. Buck knows from experience that laying flat with broken ribs sucks, it's the fucking worst.
Eddie's right arm is nestled in a sling, with an ice pack nestled on his shoulder. Buck makes a mental note to remind the nurse in a couple of minutes or to take it out himself— ice packs can be detrimental if left for so long.
"Hey, G.I Joe," he murmurs, using the first nickname he ever gace Eddie. Buck walks closer and sits on the chair next to Eddie's bed, scooting it as close as he can, until his knees are brushing the bedframe.
“You gave me a big scare out there, y'know? Almost had a heart attack, you jerk.” Buck chuckles weakly as he reaches over and takes Eddie's hand, carding fingers through Eddie's hair with the other. “But welcome home, sweetheart. I missed you.”
He's not sure Eddie can hear him, but Buck needs to say it anyway. Needs to speak to his husband, touch him and remind himself that they really made it out of that alive.
“God, I love you so much, Eds.” Buck's voice breaks and cracks, his thumb ghosting over Eddie's temple. “Can't believe you're finally home. You really know how to do a comeback, huh?
Eddie doesn't stir. Buck sends the diagnosis to Carla first, so she can calm Christopher down until the morning, then types out an update to Maddie and the rest of the 118.
And then, he settles to wait, his hand never leaving Eddie's, his fingers resting on Eddie's pulse point on his wrist as he slowly falls asleep to the rhythm of his husband's heartbeat.
They made it.
—
Eddie can tell before he even opens his eyes that he's in a hospital. For a second, he thinks he's still in Afghanistan, laying on a shitty bed at a medical tent or something. His heart spikes, panicking, as he thinks that he should be flying back home, that his family is waiting for him.
Slowly, though, consciousness comes back to him. The beep of the heart monitor registers at the same time the smell of antiseptic and cleaning supplies reach his nose. The memories start to kick in, replaying in his hand in quick and overwhelming flashbacks.
The plane going down, Harvey flying and hitting the ceiling above him, Eddie incapable of saving the man.
Water. Pain. God, so much pain.
Buck.
Eddie comes awake slowly, eyelids made of lead, and immediately becomes aware of one thing.
His left hand has someone else's hand resting on top of it, fingers curled and gently gripping his. He blinks his eyes open and the sigh that greets him is a hair of dirty dark blonde hair, curly and free of that awful gel product Eddie secretly despises.
“Buck,” He croaks out, voice rough and hoarse.
Buck stirs and Eddie squeezes his hand, moving it slightly and knocking his knuckles gently against Buck's cheek.
And then, blue eyes are locking into his, a soft and tender smile slowly taking over his husband's face.
“You're awake.”
“I missed you.” Eddie responds. His voice is dry and he could use a drink, but talking to Buck seems way more important. Eddie has his priorities straight (ha!) after all.
“Missed you more,” Buck replies instantly, his face is dirty and he has bags under his eyes. His eyes are shot red, like he's been crying— but he's smiling in awe and relief now, devotion and fondness practically pouring out of him in big, warm waves.
Eddie aches (in that sort of amazing, intoxicating kind of way. The way you only experience when you're so deeply, irrevocably in love.)
When Buck leans forward, the hospital bed dipping slightly under his weight, and another hand cupping Eddie’s cheek, he exhales.
“Don't ever do that to me again, okay?”
Eddie smiles, his eyes flutter and his gaze drops to Buck's lips.
“I'll try my best.” He whispers and then closes the tiny, miniscule distance left between them, kissing him like he's been dreaming of for months.
This is not a desperate kiss. This is not a kiss tainted by fear or pain.
This is a welcome home kiss. Soft and tender.
Buck gums into it, soothing all of Eddie's pain away as his fingers run through his hair carefully, so delicate that Eddie wants to cry with how treasured and loved Buck makes him feel.
Eddie nearly purrs from the motion, pressing a final kiss to Buck's mouth before he pulls away to rest his head back on the pillow.
“Really missed that , too.” He rasps out and earns a giggle from his husband.
“Good, because I'm gonna suffocate you in them. Have to make up for lost time.”
“Bring it on, Buckley.” Eddie grins, feeling like he's slowly being pulled back to sleep again.
They've made it, it's the last though he has before he closes his eyes and slips back into unconsciousness.