Chapter Text
It took two firefighters and a cop to drag Buck away from that goddamn lab. They found him on the floor in a long tunnel—thanks to Tommy spotting him on the cameras. He was leaning on the wall, his sweat-slicked forehead resting against it, as he let out violent, racking sobs that made his chest ache. Ravi, Hen, and Athena found him after he disappeared, all in their own states of disarray.
The moment Buck locked eyes with Athena, he lost it. To him, it was just confirmation that Bobby was really dead. If Athena was here, it meant she had nowhere else to be. Bobby had already been taken out in a body bag.
“No, please,” he sobbed, “no, ‘Thena, please.”
Athena just sat down beside him, tears spilling from her own eyes as she tried to look at him. “He’s gone, Buck, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking, her emotions too much to hold back. Buck shivered and looked like he might be sick. Instead, he just stared up at Hen and Ravi, eyes wide and wet.
“We tried, Buck,” Hen sniffled, wiping her own tears. “He didn’t tell us he was infected until after Chim got the antidote, there was nothing we could’ve done.”
In that moment, Buck felt something that surprised him. He was angry at Chimney. Why did he get to live when Bobby didn’t? It wasn’t fair. He hated himself for thinking it—Chim was one of his closest friends, he never wanted him to die, but it’s…Bobby. It’s his dad. He wasn’t supposed to die either.
“Come on, honey,” Athena said softly, resting a hand on Buck’s knee. “We gotta get you home, okay?”
Buck didn’t get up on his own, but he didn’t fight it when Ravi and Hen lifted him onto his feet, and the four of them made their way out of the lab.
The first thing Buck saw outside was the coroner’s van. “God,” he huffed. He watched Bobby’s bagged corpse get loaded on the van by strangers, people who never knew Bobby, and never would. They’d probably throw his body around, drive recklessly, treat him like trash. They don’t know Bobby. It wasn’t fair.
“S-Someone has to call Eddie,” Buck admitted. “I can’t do it.”
“I can, buddy,” Ravi answered quickly, already pulling out his phone. “Don’t worry about it.”
He stepped away as he lifted his phone to his ear, moving out of earshot before he said anything. It didn’t matter, though, Buck was too focused on him. He read Ravi’s lips as he spoke.
“Hey, Eddie, I have some news for you.”
“Bobby died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, you should probably fly down here, as soon as you can. I-It’s Buck…” Buck stopped paying attention after that. He couldn’t even be mad, because it was all true.
He wished he could hear Eddie, hear what he had to say. Buck almost hoped Eddie felt the same way he did, at least then they can share their grief, live through it together.
Athena helped Buck to her work car. She wasn’t going to let him go back in a fire truck, she knew he would feel the same way she did—that he shouldn’t be on the fire truck if Bobby couldn’t be.
Buck sat in the passenger seat, his tears dry. He stared absently through the windshield, waiting to be taken home.
Athena got in the driver’s seat and stuck the keys in the ignition. Her hands trembled as they lifted to the steering wheel. “I don’t want to go home,” she admitted. “I don’t want to go anywhere that he isn’t.”
Buck didn’t say anything, he just reached over and held her hand for a few seconds until she gathered the strength to back out of her parking space. The car ride to Buck’s apartment was silent, the only sound an inconsistently timed sniffle from one or both of them. Thick, hot tears slid down their cheeks as both of them fought like hell not to break down.
Athena walked him inside, scared to let him be alone, or to be alone herself. “Wh-Why don’t I order a pizza or something, we can just”—
“I can’t eat right now,” Buck whispered, already shaking his head. His face was swollen and patchy, damp with slow-drying tears. “I’m probably gonna head to the bar for a bit.”
“No, honey,” Athena said softly, reaching a hand up to his shoulder and gently resting it there, her thumb rubbing against the cotton of his shirt. “Don’t do that to yourself. It won’t help.”
“It will tonight,” Buck uttered, biting his chewed-up lip—he’s spent so much time trying to stifle his tears by biting them back that his lips began to peel and bleed.
To say Athena was fooling herself would be an understatement. She knew when they walked in the door that Buck wouldn’t want company, he wouldn’t want to be around anyone like this, of course not. But selfishly, she was terrified to go home. The house would be so quiet, and god, the kids don’t know yet, they didn’t get to say goodbye. She wanted to procrastinate all of that as long as she possibly could, but the clock was ticking.
“Well…be safe, honey, okay? Call me if you need anything. At all. I probably won’t be sleeping much tonight, so…I’ll be up,” she explained. Buck nodded, his eyes locked on the floor.
“I didn’t say it back.”
“What?”
“‘I love you, kid.’ That’s what he said to me. I should’ve said it back,” he blurted, more tears brewing when he didn’t think it possible anymore—his eyes were so dry that he didn’t think he could even produce tears. “I should’ve said it back, and I didn’t, and what if he died thinking I don’t love him”—
“Evan Buckley, do not say that. He knows. He knew every single day. You didn’t have to say it back.”
“Yeah, well I wish I did,” Buck admitted. “I shouldn’t have left. I know he wanted to be alone with you in his…l-last moments, but…we spent all day separated from him, just to find out we’d never…”
Buck interrupted himself to grab his wallet and his phone. “I-I’ll walk you out, I’m gonna head over.”
“I’m serious, Buck, let me know if you need anything,” Athena said, staring him straight in the eye even if he was avoiding her gaze. Buck nodded and opened the door, letting her walk ahead of him.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “you too.”
Eddie got him and Christopher the next flight back to Los Angeles.
Chris was in bed, ready to fall asleep when his dad came in. His face was soaked with tears, his eyes all puffy in a way that Chris had never seen before. “Hey, buddy.”
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
“Uhm…I’m sorry, bud, I know you’re ready for bed, but…there’s been an accident. We have a flight in a few hours, we have to go back to LA.”
“Wh…What happened?”
“Uhm…” More tears slid down Eddie’s cheeks as he searched his mind for the best way to put it. “Bobby passed away, buddy.”
Christopher sat up with wide eyes, his face falling. “What? How?”
“The fire team was responding to a fire at this lab where they were…creating a cure for this disease…apparently both Bobby and Chimney got infected, but there was only one dose of the cure.”
“Is Buck okay?” It broke Eddie’s heart, knowing that Buck’s relationship with Bobby was strong enough that Chris noticed it—and knew to check on him.
“I don’t know. That’s why we’re heading out there,” he admitted. “We gotta get packed up, okay? I don’t know how long we’re staying, so just pack everything you need for a while, alright?”
“Okay.”
They were packed and out of the house in thirty minutes. Eddie needed to make sure he didn’t miss their flight, they got there extra early so they could wait at their gate. Mercifully, the screening process was quick and they got through quickly without much trouble.
Before they boarded, Eddie sent out a handful of text messages. Condolences to Athena, making sure she knew he was there for her, and was heading her way soon. A text to Buck, letting him know that he should expect them—and expect to house him and Chris for a little while. Another to Chimney, making sure he was feeling alright.
Their flight was long, but not horrible. Chris slept for most of it, spare when the flight attendant came around with snacks—and offered extra to Chris. Eddie couldn’t sleep, all he could think about was Bobby. The 118 would be destroyed without him, he wasn’t sure what they were going to do. Buck was surely in shambles—that was his father, the only man who stepped up, acting like a guiding force in Buck’s life, actually cared for him and loved him like a father should. It won’t be easy to get through to him at a time like this.
Hen offered to pick up Eddie and Chris from the airport, she couldn’t sleep just like the rest of the 118. She was there, waiting at his gate, when he and Chris got off the plane. She gave them both a big hug—Eddie’s hug lingered, like Hen knew they both needed it.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said with a sigh, “even under the circumstances.”
Eddie nodded. “It’s nice to see a friendly face again.”
Hen hummed in agreement as she took Chris’ suitcase and carry on bag, then walked them out to her car. It was parked at the front entrance, in the drop off and pick up lane, with its hazards on.
She got them to Buck’s apartment as fast as the traffic would allow. It was odd, traffic this late, but they were so close to the airport at first, so maybe that makes sense. She just didn’t want to waste another second making sure someone was with Buck. She needed to know he was safe, and in his apartment. Anything else would be dangerous.
She walked them in—she had to see Buck, with her own eyes. She hadn’t seen him since the lab, and it’s been hours. Hours is too long when it comes to Buck. He’s impulsive, makes split second decisions. When they opened the door—unlocked—they walked into an empty apartment. Buck’s work uniform and his bag were tossed across the living room, like he just threw it down the second he walked in. His phone was on the counter—no getting to him, that’s not a good sign—along with his keys.
“Where is he?” Hen breathed.
Eddie was already checking the apartment to make sure he wasn’t in bed. He wasn’t. “Shit,” he whispered. “Uhm, Hen, can you get Chris to bed? I’m gonna go look for him.”
“Uh—yeah. Y-Yeah.”
She gathered Chris and his belongings and brought them to his old bedroom, still dressed in old decorations he left behind. It felt like a ghost of the room he used to sleep in, but it was still home regardless. His bedding was still there, the same as how he left it. Buck didn’t seem to touch the room at all, like he assumed Chris would be back to it eventually. He didn’t think it would be like this.
Eddie dumped his things in the living room, strewn across it much like Buck’s, then rushed out the door, already calling Athena.
“Eddie?”
“Athena, I’m in LA. I can’t find Buck, he wasn’t in the apartment.”
Athena let out a disappointed sigh. “Yeah, he said he was going to the bar. I’m sure that’s where you’ll find him, in whatever state he’s in.”
Eddie sighed too. “Thanks, Athena. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. And…I’m sorry for your loss, truly.”
“Yes, well…I’m sorry for yours,” Athena answered. “Goodbye, Eddie.”
“Bye.”
Buck was four drinks deep—he started with a beer, then moved on to whiskey with ice—when a man approached him. He was tall, and muscular, he smelled nice too—like sandalwood. He had a few tattoos scattered up his arms, and he had a youthful face. He sat beside him, tucked in the corner of the bar.
“You wanna get high with me and my friends?” he asked, and his voice was smooth and hot. It entranced Buck, and he just had to hear more of it.
“With what?” Buck asked, but he already didn’t seem to care.
“These,” he responded, flashing Buck the small baggie of tablets in his sweater pocket.
Buck nodded, already lost to the liquor and this man in front of him. “Yes, please.”
The man—his name was Ethan, Buck thought—dragged him out of the bar to a group of people hanging around a pickup truck. Those people were scary looking. They all looked haunted, like they, too, had seen something horrible today. Before Buck could introduce himself or even focus on anything, Ethan gently pulled his mouth open, dropping two tablets onto his tongue. “There you go, love, now just let yourself feel it.”
Ethan pulled Buck towards the center of the group and shouted out, “This is my friend, Buck, guys.” Then his hands grabbed Buck’s waist which honestly caught him off guard, but he couldn’t seem to move away.
A couple of the guys in the group let out incoherent laughs, while the girls just stared at Buck, eyeing him up and down like he was a piece of meat.
“Tell us, big boy, what do you do?” one of the men asked.
“I’m a….firefighter,” Buck answered, his speech beginning to slur.
“Oh…so you have a…firehose?”
“Uhm…I guess? Back at the fire house.”
Another round of laughter, a couple of fleeting glances. “I bet you do. Do you feel good, big boy?”
In that moment, Buck’s high seemed to kick in. His knees buckled, and he clutched onto Ethan—the only familiar face, sort of—so he didn’t hit the grass. His mind spun, he couldn’t see two feet in front of him, but he still answered, “Uh huh.”
He felt hands on his waistband, but he just leaned into Ethan—he could trust him, right? The hands traveled further, underneath his waistband, inside his boxers. Buck stumbled away, in any direction other than the place he was in.
“What the fuck?” he called out, but it was muted and breathy.
Ethan wrapped his arm around Buck’s chest, dragging him by his heels back towards the truck. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ethan said, and his voice was soothing.
Buck gripped onto him with one hand, pressed his face into the crook of Ethan’s arm.
Someone in the distance yelled, “What the hell is going on here?” The voice seemed vaguely familiar to Buck, but he couldn’t quite place it, not in the state that he was in right now.
The hands moved further for only a split second before the hands were gone, and Ethan was gone, and he could hear someone calling out, “Get the fuck away from him!”
Then Eddie was there, kneeling in front of him. Somewhere along the line, Buck ended up on the ground, got kicked a little, and never actually got back up. He was face down on the concrete, trembling with his arms wrapped protectively around his head. But Eddie was there, and he wasn’t really sure it was him. It sounded like him. Looked like him. Had all his freckles and beauty marks.
“H-Hey, Buck. Look at me, you alright?” he asked, but he almost sounded hesitant. He rested a hand on his shoulder and helped him roll onto his back, then pulled him to his feet.
“I’m f…I’m fine…”
Eddie held his cheek, he had never done that before, and it felt almost…intimate, despite the circumstances.
“Give me a hug,” he said, and he pulled him into a tight hug, almost so tight Buck couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
Just then, wasted off his ass, barely able to breathe right, the realization hits again. Bobby’s dead. He was just gone. He woke up this morning, and he had Bobby, and now he doesn’t. And then he was sobbing—he didn’t even realize, he couldn’t feel the tears on his face. He buried his face into Eddie’s shoulder, letting the tears soak the fabric in the hopes that Eddie wouldn’t mind.
“I’m sorry, Buck. How about I take you home, and you get some good sleep, and we can talk about all this tomorrow?”
Buck didn’t want to do that, he didn’t want to be in that goddamn apartment, it was too quiet and everything made him more uncomfortable. But still, he nodded, because it was easier than explaining all of that. Eddie held him up by his shoulders—like a firefighter—and wrapped one arm around his back to walk him back towards Hen’s car. He helped Buck into the passenger seat, then got in. He buckled Buck’s seatbelt for him, then got the hell out of there.
“What did you take?” Eddie asked, but he wasn’t being accusatory. He sounded like he was just making conversation.
Buck leaned his head back against his seat, letting his eyes fall closed. “I dunno. Little tablets. Dunno.”
Eddie glanced over at it, then snapped his fingers. “Ah, hey, no falling asleep on me, alright?”
Buck’s eyes snapped open. He looked over at Eddie and smiled an intoxicated smile. “I missed you.”
Eddie smiled at him, and Buck knew he was real. “I missed you, too, Buck. Chris’ll be happy to see you.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah, I brought him with me. You know, ‘dad up.’”
Buck nodded. “Exactly.”
Eddie glanced over at Buck, and he didn’t seem to be paying attention. At all. “Buck?”
Buck hummed, but didn’t otherwise respond.
“Hey, Buck, what’s going on, buddy? Talk to me.”
“S-Sorry, I just…don’t feel good.”
Eddie nodded. “Okay, I gotcha, we're almost there.”
Eddie pulled into the apartment complex parking lot, and rushed to get Buck inside. He barely got Buck in the door before he broke away from his hold and rushed to the bathroom. Eddie followed him, only to be locked out just before he reached him. He could hear Buck heaving behind the door.
“Buck? You okay?”
“Mmh, yeah,” Buck grunted, his face clearly stuck deep in the toilet bowl based on the way his voice echoed.
“Open the door when you can. I want to get you into bed so you can just sleep this off.”
“Mhm.” The breathy noise was followed by another heave, and Eddie moved away from the door.
He got himself a beer from the fridge, then settled in the living room, waiting for Buck. He sat himself in Buck’s armchair, and he stayed there, drinking his beer. He finished it before Buck got out.
When the door did open, Buck came stumbling out, gripping onto the wall for balance, his forehead slick with sweat. “E-Ed…”
“Hey, hey”—Eddie rushed to grab him before he crashed to the floor, helping him over to the armchair—“what’s going on?”
Buck just shook his head. “Just a lil’ dizzy. I’m fine.”
“Buck”—
“I’m fine,” he snapped, crashing into the chair, gripping onto the arm rests with a white knuckle grip.
Eddie brought a seat over from the dining room table and put it next to Buck, and took a seat. “What was happening back there? How’d you end up with all those people?”
He didn’t answer.
“How did you end up taking those drugs?”
No answer.
“Buck.”
“I just didn’t want to feel anything tonight,” Buck mumbled, wiping his face with the back of one hand. “They were offered so I took them.”
Eddie nodded. “I understand, Buck, I’m not angry with you.”
“I wanted to know.”
“Know what?”
“What it felt like. The drugs. Any drugs. I wanted to know why Bobby liked them so much,” Buck explained, his voice shy and weak.
There it was. Eddie wondered when they were gonna get to Bobby, when Buck would actually bring it up instead of just avoiding the topic all together. But…taking hardcore drugs just to put himself in danger, just so he could feel the way Bobby felt…it was reckless, impulsive, stupid—
“Why did he leave, Eddie?” Buck asked, his voice low and borderline angry. “He had a wife, and kids, they were building a new house, he seemed so happy, so why did he have to go?”
“Cap never would’ve kept himself alive and sober if he survived and Chimney didn’t. He would’ve hated himself for that,” Eddie answered woefully.
“He didn’t have to die. None of this had to happen,” Buck said, wiping more tears from his eyes. Eddie had never seen him like this, this might be considered rock bottom for Buck. “What are we supposed to do without him?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie breathed, terrifyingly aware that the 118 was fucked without Bobby—he was thei glue, he held them together, he made them a family. Now who would replace him, Gerard? Buck wouldn’t last a week with him as their permanent captain, not after what happened last time. Especially, god forbid, Gerard says something about Bobby, that would be his last day on Earth, Buck would kill him with his bare hands. “You should get some sleep, Buck. Sleep it off.”
“I don’t want to sleep it off. The high isn’t over yet. I want to feel all of it.”
“Buck”—
“If you need to sleep, go to sleep. I’m not.”
“Buck, it’s 4 in the morning. You need to get some rest, it’s been a long day”—
“You don’t know what we went through today, don’t pretend you do,” Buck hissed, his eyes on Eddie’s chest rather than his face.
“I…Buck, I’m not. I know you’ve been through a lot, I know it’s been a horrible day, I know, but I wasn’t here. I get that. And you can be angry with me about that, and fight with me, if that’s what you need. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Guilt washed into Buck like a wave. “Eddie.”
“Go to bed. Sleep this off. You’ve experienced it enough, I hope enough to know that you won’t do it again.”
Buck didn’t respond, just let his eyes wander towards the kitchen. The oven clock read 4:23 am.
“‘You’re gonna be okay, Buck. They’re gonna need you.’ That’s what he told me. Right before he died.”
Eddie nodded solemnly, refusing to speak and interrupt Buck.
“It was all so weird. The way he just accepted it. He knew the entire time, he knew he was infected, but instead he put all the focus on Chimney, so everyone would worry about him instead, and he just accepted that he was gonna die. That he was gonna leave Athena and May and Henry behind. That he was gonna leave me behind.”
All at once, Eddie understood what this was about. Bobby left Buck, or at least that’s how Buck saw it. He left Buck alone, swept the rug from underneath his feet and disappeared, all while putting the pressure on Buck to take care of the 118. Buck felt betrayed. Bobby did the one thing he always promised not to do.
“And he just sent me away. Said he wanted time alone with Athena, and that was it. He didn’t give me any time to say goodbye.”
Eddie felt acutely aware of his own experience with Bobby’s death. He had no idea, he didn’t get to say goodbye, he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw Bobby in person. There was no closure, but frankly, seeing the bad way Buck is in right now, maybe that was for the best. Maybe reality hadn’t yet set in, it didn’t feel real yet, like he was just going to see Bobby tomorrow. He’d make them all family breakfast, and Buck would help him, while Chimney watched and complained about how long they took.
But it was real. Bobby would never show his face at the 118 fire house, he’d never cook them another meal, he’d never give Buck or Eddie his life changing advice, they’d never get to see his loving interactions with his wife or his kids. He was just gone. Nothing would ever fill that void.
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Eddie said eventually, blinking back tears. “I don’t know how I could make this better, I don’t know how to do this.”
Buck sniffled. “No one does,” he said woefully, getting out of his chair only to stumble forward and barely catch himself on the coffee table.
“Hey, slow down, what do you need? I can get it.”
“A beer.”
Eddie swallowed. “Buck, you’ve had enough to drink, I don’t think you’re in any”—
Buck glared at him, falling back in his armchair. “I don’t want to feel any of it tonight. I know I can’t sleep. I’ll see Bobby’s face, I always do when I close my eyes. So I have to do something.”
“This won’t help. Trust me, it didn’t help me when I lost Shannon. It only made things worse.”
Buck’s gaze softened on him, finally looking him in the eye. In his intoxicated gaze, he seemed to forget this was not Eddie’s first major loss. Not like it was for Buck.
He lost Daniel, but he wasn’t old enough to remember, he didn’t even know Daniel existed. A few of his grandparents passed away, but he wasn’t close with them, since he wasn’t close with his parents, so those weren’t that devastating for him. And yeah, he’s lost people on the job, and that hurts, but he doesn’t really know those people very well. But Bobby? That was his real family. This felt like the end of the world.
“I know. But…I feel like…” Buck struggled to find the words. “I feel closer to him this way. Knowing that if the positions were reversed, and I died”—the thought made Eddie nauseous—“but Bobby survived, he might handle it the same way. It’s comforting, I guess, in a weird way.”
Eddie didn’t understand, but he wasn’t going to invalidate Buck when he was being so vulnerable, so he just nodded. “I can understand that,” he said softly.
Buck fell silent, his mind buzzing with thoughts. Eddie just watched him for a moment, wondering if he should say something—if anything was worth saying and wouldn’t make things worse.
“I just really don’t know what we’re gonna do. Who's gonna be our captain? Who’s going to make our meals, and”—
“You don’t need to worry about that right now, Buck, he isn’t even in the ground, yet.”
Buck shivered. “Don’t say it like that,” he growled.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Eddie blurted, cursing himself. “I just mean…don’t worry about that stuff, yet. It’ll all get figured out eventually, but chances are…it’s out of our hands, for now.”
“You make that sound easy,” Buck scoffed, shaking his head.
“How are you feeling now?”
Buck lifted his eyes, but didn’t meet Eddie’s gaze. “High,” he mumbled. “Everything’s spinning.”
“You want to try”—
“If you say going to bed, I’m kicking you out of your own home,” Buck snapped, but it was mostly light-hearted. It was nice to see that a little bit of the real Buck was still shining through, even that hard, drugged-up exterior he’s created for himself.
It had been a while, since he and Buck had a real conversation. They had their FaceTime calls, sure, but not so much recently. They were both busy, and they kept missing each other’s calls. Eventually, they gave up and resorted to brief text conversations when they could. Buck had changed a lot since then, he seems a lot more…somber. Even excluding his grief and sadness surrounding Bobby’s death, he just doesn’t seem…happy-go-lucky like he used to. He seemed so negative, like he just assumed everything was going wrong, and nothing mattered. His smile lines were fading. Eddie didn’t like it.
“How have you been lately? I mean, before Bobby…”
Buck shrugged like a moody teenager being asked about their day at school. “Fine,” he answered, and there was so meaning behind it, no truth. Just fine.
“Buck.”
He seemed to soften a little, realizing that Eddie could see through his bullshit immediately. “I dunno. Things have been hard.” He paused, then added, “It hasn’t been the same without you.”
Eddie nodded. “I…I’m sorry, again, that I haven’t been here. Trust me, if I could…if I could come back, I would in a heart beat. nothing would make me happier.”
Buck bit his lip, only tearing his flesh more than it already was. “Why can’t you?” he asked softly.
“It’s…complicated. Things are still sort of rocky with me and Chris—I mean it’s been better, a lot better, he does live with me now, but…I don’t think I can uproot him again. Not so soon, when I’m just starting to win him back.” Eddie paused, glancing sideways at Buck. “We’ll stay for a while, though, or at least as long as you want us around. I’m not in any rush to go back.”
Buck nodded, feeling only slightly reassured. He wouldn’t be alone at Bobby’s funeral, that was good, at the very least. “Of course, sorry, I don’t mean to act all…”
Eddie shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “I get it, I really do. I want to be here as much as you want me here, maybe even more. The 118 is family, you’re…you’re family.”
Buck scoffed quietly, in the back of his throat, as he played with a loose string on the armchair. “Pretty shitty family,” he uttered, his voice low and hoarse.
“Not to me.”
Buck lifted his gaze only for a moment, before he started to eye the fridge. “I’m just…tired. The past few weeks have been…rough. Tommy…tried to rekindle things, but it didn’t work out, and Athena was just in a plane crash, we almost lost her. Maddie was kidnapped, got her throat slit, almost died. Now Bobby’s gone, I just…I feel like everything that could go wrong is going wrong.”
A sudden realization dawned on Eddie. The drugs, the alcohol, the putting himself in dangerous situations, the complete lack of self-care, the negative thought pattern, the feelings of hopelessness and helplessness…
Buck wasn’t just grieving. He was contemplating suicide.
“You should’ve called, you could’ve at least talked about all of it”—
“Talking doesn’t help. All I did was talk, talk about everything that happened, talking about what I thought and what I feel, nothing helps.” Eddie’s blood ran cold. He pulled out his phone and texted Maddie while Buck wasn’t looking.
Buck is not okay. We have to keep an eye on him.
Why, what happened? Maddie responded instantly.
I found him at the bar, wasted. Said he took some tablets this guy offered him, he’s been sick all night, and the way he was talking seemed off.
What do you mean?
He’s talking like he wants to die.
Eddie lifted his eyes back to Buck, who was staring at his phone. “Who are you texting about me?” he asked, his voice steady and scarily calm.
“Wh—I’m not.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Buck, I think you need to go to bed. Sleep it all off, we’ll talk in the morning. Come on.” He got out of his chair and moved towards Buck, holding his arms out to help Buck out of the armchair.
Buck stood up, shoving him away while he wobbled on his feet, barely staying up. “Get the fuck away from me, I already told you, I’m not going to bed,” he snarled, raising his voice enough that it honestly scared Eddie—and he was worried about waking Chris up.
“Buck, I’m just trying to”—
“I don’t care what you’re trying to do, you can’t help me. Just go to bed if you want to sleep that bad, we’ll talk in the morning,” he snapped, stumbling towards the kitchen to grab his phone and his keys.
“Whoa—What are you doing?”
“I’m going for a drive.”
“No the fuck you aren’t,” Eddie blurted, grabbing Buck’s arm before he could get anywhere near the door. “You’re high as shit, and drunk. You aren’t getting behind any wheel, not tonight.”
Buck pushed Eddie’s chest with his free hand. “Alright, tough guy. You won’t do shit,” Buck scoffed, trying to rip his arm free.
Eddie snatched the collar of Buck’s sweat-soaked t-shirt, nose wrinkled with anger. “You’re being a dick,” he said, his voice just loud enough to sound angry.
Then, of course, as Eddie should’ve expected, Buck swung at him. Thankfully, he read Buck’s body language and saw it coming, able to duck out of the way just in time. He shoved Buck against the wall, just beside the door, pinning him there.
“Listen to me,” Eddie growled, “you’re being reckless and stupid. I’m not letting you go anywhere, not like this.”
Buck just smirked at him. “I was wondering when you’d snap,” he chuckled sardonically.
“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie snarled. “You aren’t my best friend.”
“Get the fuck off of me.” Buck shoved at Eddie’s arms, trying desperately to break free as his phone and keys dropped to the floor. In his struggle, Eddie caught a stray punch to the nose, and he instantly released Buck. Buck didn’t apologize—he didn’t say anything. He just ran off with his phone and his keys, and Eddie didn’t follow him. Instead, he rushed to the bathroom to get something to soak up the blood sliding from his nostrils, with one hand cupped under his face so he wouldn’t bleed everywhere. As he shoved a soft, gray washcloth to his noise and tilted his head back, he took his phone from his pocket and sent another text to Maddie.
Call 911. Buck and I just got in a fight, he left with his keys. I’m scared he’s gonna crash.
Where is he going?
I don’t know.
Buck got in his car and pulled out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Both hands clung to the wheel with a white knuckle grip, all the windows were down, and the stereo was turned all the way up—blasting heavy rock as he flew down a 55 going 90. Once he made it out of the city and he was on the backroads, that’s when he really put his foot on the pedal. The highest speed he reached was 135 miles per hour.
He had one destination in mind, and he was getting there one way or another. The morgue. He had to see Bobby one last time, he had to talk to him one last time. Either he made it there, or he wound up with Bobby in there. Either way, he didn’t really mind.
He was almost successful, too. He made it to almost ten minutes out from the morgue before the drugs really set into his system, and he hallucinated a deer in the middle of the road. Sure, it was purple, and looked like a 2D figure rather than a real object, but it looked real to him, in that moment.
He slammed on the breaks as hard as he could, and the steering wheel took itself. He tried to regain control, but he was too late. He watched his car roll onto its side in the ditch as he was thrown around in his seat. It was the last thing he saw before his head slammed into the steering wheel, and he knocked himself out.