Chapter Text
In hindsight, Eddie should have considered the state of his wallet before refusing Buck's offer to drive him back home. He thought he could get a cab. He could have sworn he had money left. He didn't remember spending most of his cash on drinks, but by the time he realized that he didn't have enough to afford a ride home, it was already too late to turn back because Buck was already gone.
Although it was never truly too late when it came to Buck. Eddie could always ring him and hitch a ride back home. But a pang of immense guilt struck Eddie's heart at the thought of making Buck drive back here after he had already offered before. It was an inconvenience, and he would not do that to Buck. Besides, Buck was probably already asleep.
He could feel himself grow sober as he weighed his options, so he did what any other sensible, but still drunk person would do: he walked back inside the bar, found his previous seat, and spent the remainder of his money on more drinks.
He would just have one more, and then he'd go home. The idea hadn't stood out in his mind as a stupid one. After all, he was a firefighter; no one would try to pick on him. Even if he was drunk out of his mind, it wasn't like he would get lost. He most certainly would not pass out in the middle of the street.
He just wasn't careless like that, and he had the utmost trust in himself not to do anything stupid.
So two hours later, after three drinks and two rounds of Monopoly with a bunch of random guys, he finally started his journey back home. His mind was empty as he sauntered through the rain-soaked pavements. If you knocked on his head, you would hear an echo.
He had one fleeting thought about feeling like a wizard walking through Diagon Alley because everything was so big and dark yet weirdly bright at the same time. Every street lamp, every car light, every movement felt enhanced. It also felt crowded, even though the streets were empty. He shivered, and his walking sped. He needed to be home before something crawled out of the shadows.
By the time he stumbled through his front door, his clothes were damp. Raising Christopher had him tiptoeing around the house during nights, but since Chris wasn't home, he could turn on the lights.
After locking the door, his palm patted the wall. He blindly searched for the light switch as he simultaneously tugged off his shoes, leaving him in his socks. It took him a minute, but he did find the light switch.
As the light flickered on, he got a clear view of his surroundings. His shoes were flung to the side, and there were muddy footprints where he walked. He stood dumbly for a moment, but then he saw the light peaking out from his kitchen.
Maybe he would get himself some water, sober up a little? That was smart. Then he'd go scouring through the fridge for that leftover slice of cheesecake. He couldn't remember if he'd eaten it.
Eddie sluggishly walked to the sink, turning the water on and watching as it swirled down the drain. He reached for a glass of water, his foot shifting across the floor, but then he felt a strange little lump underneath his heel. Almost as if he'd… stepped on something?
His mouth gaped. He slowly retracted his hand and lifted his heel. When he peered down to look at it. Little black eyes stared back at him, and pierced his soul as its legs stopped wiggling around.
It was a cockroach.
He blinked, staring at the creature. Eventually, it slipped from his heel and fell onto the floor. However, where a typical roach would regain its ability to move after being back on its legs, this one remained completely still. Eddie could tell that the creature was gone; there was no life behind those eyes. And it was all… because of him.
There was a beat of silence until Eddie's shoulders deflated as he let out a trembling breath.
God, he's so careless. Everyone would be so disappointed if they found out. He didn't even know who to call. Would anyone want to help him after finding out what he'd done?
Maybe… Buck?
He thought about it for a minute, but shook his head. He couldn't drag Buck into this. He couldn't risk Buck seeing him any differently. He was responsible for it, so he should learn how to deal with his problems.
He blinked the tears away from his eye, but they fell anyway, so he stuck his tongue out and licked the salty tear drops that fell into his mouth as he stood solemnly. Soon enough, the volume of his tears increased, and it became too much to lick away.
He stayed like that for what felt like forever, uselessly wiping the tears that refused to stop flowing. When he finally felt okay to move on his trembling feet, he leaned over the counter and ripped out a small napkin.
He knelt on the floor and flattened out the napkin, bringing it towards the dead cockroach. Slowly, with the push of one finger, he nudged the cockroach into the napkin. As he stared down at the creature, he could feel his tears return.
A single droplet fell onto the cockroach's body, and suddenly, he saw a twitch in one of its legs.
He held his breath, waiting for another twitch, but it never came.
The roach was truly gone now, and he needed to get himself together. He could not allow himself to fall apart now, not when he hadn't put it to rest.
With a shaky breath, he folded the edges of the napkin around the cockroach, enclosing its body and ensuring warmth. But the cockroach would never feel warmth again, because he ended its life.
When the roach was fully secured, he held the bundled creature with his two fingers and leaned over the counter again, grabbing a spoon. He clutched the spoon in his other hand and walked back to his front door.
He opened it and walked down to one of the little patches of grass that were more loosely rooted than the others. The grass was wet by the rain, so it looked easier to dig past, even with a spoon. So he knelt onto the bare, damp grass with nothing but his socks on, and began to dig a hole using the spoon.
And he dug, and dug, and dug. He persisted, even when droplets of rain poured down on him, washing away his tears.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he finally finished; all he knew was that he needed to make things right.
He laid the napkin flatly in his palm, and slowly, he brought his lips to rest a kiss on the wrapped creature. His face scrunched up as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—" His voice cracked.
He hoped the universe would forgive him; he did not want to go to hell. He didn't want to imagine what the fate of the cockroach was. He hadn't even given it a chance to repent for its sins. It could be in hell right now, and it would be all his fault.
He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, and he gently lowered the wrapped cockroach into the hole.
It lay there, surrounded by dampened soil as the rain fell onto its wrapped body. The napkin grew translucent as it became more soaked, but it looked like it was melting against the soil, as if it was becoming one with the earth itself.
Eddie chuckled through tear-streaked cheeks and dripping wet hair. Even after all of that, the sight still managed to be beautiful.
Eddie used the spoon to bury it, and there was something almost mesmerizing in the way the soil slowly fell and covered the roach's confined body.
The gritty sound of his digging mingled with the sound of rain pattering against the ground. He remained on his knees throughout, even when he could feel the rain soak through his clothes. Even when he could feel the dirt cling to the underside of his socks.
When he finally rose, he peered down at the lump that stood out from the ground one last time, before walking back to the safety of his home, where he would cry his sorrows away under the scaling shower. He shut the door behind him, let his damp clothes fall to the floor, and walked to the shower, where he would mourn in peace.