Archive of Our Own ^beta

10am (H-26)

“Are you saving that tittynope for later?” Buck asks, eyeing the bag of fries in the console between them, probably slowly getting cold under the heavy AC.

Eddie gives him a quick glance, breaking his gaze from the road ahead just for a moment, frowning. “Tittynope?” 

“Your leftover fries,” Buck explains, heat rising to his cheeks as Eddie raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Tittynope,” Eddie repeats.

Buck rolls his eyes, looking outside the window as he guesses what’s coming. Even with his sunglasses, the world outside is bright enough to make him wince. Nothing for miles and miles, only the road ahead of them—not the highway, since Eddie insisted that taking the scenic route added to the overall experience—and rocks and cactus. 

“Since when do you use words like tittynope?”

“May forced me to play that word game with her. The prompts are weird.” 

There’s a bit of silence that follows this declaration. The words taste sour as soon as they’re said, Buck wishing he’d avoided the question instead. He’s been doing that a lot lately. It only lasts for a quick instant, but Buck doesn’t miss the way Eddie tightens his grip around the wheel before relaxing, a deep breath making his chest rise and fall.

“Sounds fun,” Eddie finally says. 

“Yeah, we can play it sometime. Learned a bunch of new words.”

Eddie smiles at that, the same easy, relaxed smile he’s been sporting since they left for Nashville. When Chris encouraged them to go, and the world turned from the raucous of the 118 to just… them. Which— Which hasn’t really been a common occurrence for a while now.

Buck twitches in his seat, wincing at how stiff his back already is.

Eddie’s proposal to drive home had seemed like a great idea, at first. “Twenty-eight hours of fun,” he had promised. Buck knows it’s all his fault—Eddie had noticed the way he’d turned a slightly green color for the whole duration of their flight to Nashville—, but two hours in and still twenty-six hours ahead, he’s starting to blame Eddie for the way the carseat digs in his ass.

“You can dig in, by the way,” Eddie tells him.

“Huh?”

Eddie gives him a weird look. “My fries. You can get that tittynope.” He raises his eyebrows playfully with the word. 

“Shut up.” He still eats the fries with a smile he can’t really conceal.

12pm (H-24)

The heat is scorching and heavy when Buck gets out of the car, stretching himself as he groans. They’ve been following a “scenic view” sign for the past hour, leaving the main road to follow a trail between hills, offering a nice change of scenery and a bit of little nausea to Buck’s stomach. 

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks as he comes next to him to admire the view ahead. 

Buck doesn’t know what to say for a moment—what a strange feeling, when Eddie used to be the only person he always knew how to talk with. He hasn’t even complained. Or didn’t think he looked that green.

“Yeah,” he manages to say. “Definitely worth it,” he adds, nodding at the miles of desert around. The main road circles around the hills they’re on, but there’s no shining light that would betray the reflection of the sun on metal anywhere. 

Just him and Eddie in the loneliest place in the world. 

No team to launch group conversations.

No Chris to discuss school or his new favorite video game with.

No Ravi to offer a safe enough buffer that Buck knows he’s not going to accidentally say something stupid that’s going to blow things off between them. 

Any step could set things off, Buck realizes, heart suddenly stumping in his chest. He could mess things up again. Make Eddie run away for good. He can’t— He tries to calm his breathing. It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine, right?

They spend forty-eight hours together all the time. Just— not alone. Not like this.

Not since things have changed.

And not ever since Buck has realized that everyone in his life but himself knew exactly the weight of his feelings for Eddie.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Eddie says, cutting through the silence.

Buck almost jumps up, eerily feeling like Eddie sensed his thoughts and needed to reassure him. Eddie’s looking at the horizon, hands in his pockets as he breathes in the world. Since he told Buck, he’s seemed relieved. Relaxed in ways Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him. There’s always been a weight on his best friend’s shoulders, one Buck so desperately wanted to figure out how to lift.

In the end, Eddie figured out on his own, and Buck couldn’t be prouder but—

This doesn’t change a thing between us, Eddie once told him. 

But things have changed. And this revelation—

It’s changed Buck’s world completely. 

Maybe it’s time for things to get back to normal, though. Maybe those next twenty-four hours will do just that, repair what might have been broken by miles and months apart. 

“Yeah, me too,” he manages to say at last, gaze getting a little lost in Eddie’s hair, free of gel and softly waving with the gusts of warm winds, and the little bead of sweat running down his forehead.

“There’s no signal here,” Eddie frowns as he pulls out his phone. “I was going to send a picture to Chris.” 

“I’m sure he’d love it. We should bring him along on a road trip sometime.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, putting his phone horizontally as he frowns at his screen, in a very dad way that makes Buck’s stupid heart beat a little faster. “I’m not sure he’d like to be stuck in a car for twenty hours, though,” Eddie winces, taking a few steps forward, off the road to get a better view. 

Buck chuckles. No, for sure, Chris would hate it. He would probably be losing his mind right now, in the middle of nowhere, no way to send a message to his friends— 

There’s a shlack! sound that Buck doesn’t recognize, startling him before suddenly Eddie screams in pain, falling to the ground before Buck’s eyes.

“Eddie!” Buck screams, running to him where he’s writhing in pain on the ground, hands around his calf and something Buck cannot see yet. 

His stomach drops at the view of what seems to be a bear trap, rusty nails deep in Eddie’s skin. 

“Fuck,” Eddie lets out, face twisted in pain. Buck falls to his knees beside him, looking closely at the blood already pouring out. It’s too much, too fast. There’s a chain attached to the thing, he notices, linking it to a boulder, the chain trapped deep inside cement. 

There’s no way they can move it. 

His hands are shaky as he grabs his phone, letting out a strangled noise when he remembers there’s no fucking signal out there. 

“Shit,” he spits out. “How does it feel?” He asks stupidly, minds racing through their options.

“Hurts like a bitch,” Eddie grunts, head thrown back as he tries to breathe slowly.

“We— we can’t take this off, right? It’ll only make things worse.” Buck’s mind is foggy, years of being a firefighter and working with paramedics suddenly fading away.

Eddie takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to think. “I— I don’t think we have a choice. There should be a release mechanism—” He grunts in pain again. “Somewhere,” he manages to finish through strained teeth.

“Okay, okay,” Buck tries to calm himself down, be efficient. He can do this. He can find it. 

There’s in fact a lever, but when he tries to pull at it, the thing doesn’t budge. It only leaves red dust over his skin, the mechanism not too old to do its job but too old to release its prey. 

“The trunk!” He remembers. “Don’t move!” He tells Eddie, as if he has anywhere to go. Buck rummages through it frantically, finally finding the crowbar he noticed when they filled the rental car with their luggage.

“This is going to hurt like hell,” he warns Eddie as he tries to put the bar through the teeth.

Eddie chuckles sadly at that. “Can’t hurt more than now.”

Yet when Buck manages to put the bar where it should be, and finally pulls the thing open, Eddie’s scream tears his throat. It’s the worst sound Buck’s ever heard, and the sight of the blood pumping out of Eddie’s leg a second later is somehow worse. 

He doesn’t ask Eddie if he’s okay, only helps him up, getting him to the passenger’s seat where he puts him down. Rummaging through the glove compartment, he finds scissors miraculously, and he doesn’t hesitate before cutting Eddie’s jeans apart, revealing the wound all around his calf. It’s bad. It’s really bad, Buck realizes.

There’s no first aid kit in the glove box, nor in the trunk. Who the fuck rents a car without a first aid kit? How the fuck did they not bring one with them?

“You need to bandage it,” Eddie guides him, his voice calm and composed, but the quiver of his lips betraying his fear. 

“I know,” Buck replies, a little snappier than he’d like. “I’ll just— I’ll be back,” he says, hating having Eddie out of his sight for more than a second before getting to the trunk again, finding a clean shirt in his bag and bringing it back. He finds a bottle of water, a rare one. They were supposed to buy more water at their next stop. Which was supposed to be in… three hours, if they had stayed on the main road. Buck has no clue how close anything is now.

“I only have this,” he says pitifully when he gets back to his best friend.

“Better than nothing,” Eddie reassures him. “As long as you tighten it around the wound—” He winces as Buck pours a little water over his leg, cleaning it as he can. “I’ll be fine,” he completes.

Buck’s not sure if Eddie really believes it or if his army nerves of steel are talking. 

Buck doesn’t hesitate to tear his shirt in bands before starting to wrap Eddie’s leg, wincing at how fast they become red, the dark stains blossoming roses on the white fabric.

No matter the amount of layers, it doesn’t seem to help that much, Buck realizes, his hands getting shakier with each minute.

“You’re doing great,” Eddie says. Buck meets his gaze. Eddie is trying to look fierce. Unbothered. Like he’s fine, like he doesn’t need help, like he always does. But Buck knows him too well. And he recognizes, underneath the layer, in the way his lips are ever so slightly opened to breathe in more air, in the size of his pupils, that Eddie is terrified. Just like him. 

And Buck’s the only one that can save him.

1pm (H-23)

Eddie is dying while Buck is driving, each twist and turn of the road making his stomach drop as he realizes how far they might be from safety. And still there’s no signal.

“I’m getting us help, okay?” He promises Eddie, voice shaky. He wants to believe the words, he truly does, but he can only feel hopelessness as he eyes him quickly, and finds him looking ashy, hair already damp with sweat.

Eddie makes a sound that could try to be a word, but mostly sounds like he’s letting Buck know he’s still alive. It’s been an hour already since Eddie got his foot trapped. An hour of losing blood, of maybe an infection starting, of a thousand things that can lead to his death.

Buck swallows hard, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road.

“Drink something,” he urges Eddie, managing to grab the water bottle between them and handing it to him. 

A moment passes without a movement from Eddie, before finally the bottle is taken from his hand. “I’m going to be fine, Buck.” Eddie’s voice is nothing more than a grunt as he pushes through the words.

Of course, Buck wants to say. Of course he’s going to be okay. Because Buck can’t fathom a world where that isn’t the case, and he can’t lose Eddie. Not now. Not ever. So Eddie is going to be fine.

Through sheer will, Buck will keep his soul on his earth. 

He’s sure of it.

Relief surges through his veins as they finally get down the hill, a long, straight road ahead. No one, still, but nothing blocking his view from potential help. 

“You’re not allowed to die anyway,” the relief allows him to joke.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s voice is also a little chirper, like the sight also reassured him.

“Yeah. You’re stuck with me.” 

“Good,” Eddie mumbles. “I like being stuck with you,” he adds, the words becoming a little slurrier at the end.

Buck gives him a quick look, expecting to find a fond look, a smile, a reminder he’s just talking about their friendship. Instead, he finds Eddie’s eyes to be closed, and he’s slumped on the window, his heavy breathing leaving fog over it.

“Eddie?” Buck calls. Shit, shit, shit. He should keep Eddie awake, he knows it, but he can’t stop the car now, not when they need to get to a hospital as fast as possible. He tries shoving him as he can from just one hand, and Eddie finally groans. 

“‘M fine,” he mumbles.

“Stay awake for me, okay?” Buck pleads. “You’ve just gotta stay awake.” 

“I’m awake,” Eddie swears, but Buck has been with enough patients—and knows Eddie enough—to not fully trust him on that front.

“Drink some more, okay? I think we’ve got energy bars in the glove box.” 

Eddie laughs a bit at that. “Sugar’s not going to stop the bleeding, Buck,” he says softly.

Buck wants to throw him out of the car. “I know, but you need energy. Just eat something,” he pleads as a light blinks on the horizon. “Wait, did you see that?” 

“No?” Eddie answers carefully.

“There was… just there!” Buck exclaims again when the light blinks again. Holy shit. They’re going to be safe. There might be a car coming toward them, or even better, some place in the middle of the desert with other humans. With a landline. 

Eddie is going to be fine. 

“See? No reason to worry,” Eddie says. But when Buck looks at him, he’s passed out again.

2pm (H-22)

It takes Buck half an hour to get to the light. For a bit, he thinks he’s hallucinated it. And Eddie’s state, despite his soft snoring, does nothing to help the pounding inside his chest. But no, the world is just that flat, nothing for miles, and the building is the only thing in the middle of nowhere that offers hope.

Buck runs out of the car as soon as it’s parked, barreling through the double doors and before being met with— Heat. It’s a furnace inside, no AC to help the trapped air. And there doesn’t seem to be a soul inside. 

There was no car outside either, Buck remembers faintly.

“Is there someone out here?” He still shouts, walking around the reception desk to find a landline. But when he takes it in hand, he can only hear static, and when he types 9-1-1, there’s no feedback. The phone is dead.

And there’s no one.

He checks his own phone again, but he knows what he’ll find already. No signal still, no way to call for help.

There’s a distributor in the lobby, and he doesn’t hesitate before breaking the glass, with the first object he finds, and grabbing the few bottles of water left there before making his way back to Eddie, mind racing through what he should do. 

The heat outside is still unbreathable, and just a few seconds out make him feel like he’s going to melt to the floor. He hates opening the passenger’s door, knowing he’s going to put Eddie through the same thing, but he needs to check on him.

“Hey.” He softly shakes Eddie, who blinks awake slowly.

“Hey,” Eddie croaks, and Buck forces a bottle of water in his hand before leaning and looking at the bandage he made earlier. The thing seems to have fallen apart, probably from all the shaking of the car. And it probably didn’t help the trickling of blood, making a pool at the bottom of the car.

They can’t continue like this, Buck realizes. They could still be hours away from help. And he can’t check on the bleeding while driving. 

“Anyone inside?” Eddie asks, voice sounding a little better already.

“No. It’s just us,” Buck chuckles sadly, trying to remake the bandage as best as he can. “I think we should stop here. Stop the bleeding and then we can take the road again.” 

Eddie nods weakly, the words Buck’s not saying clear as day. It’s a tricky bet. If they keep going, they might find help quickly, but Eddie will bleed out faster. If they stop, who knows their chances? “Let’s get somewhere more comfortable,” Eddie approves.

“I don’t know about comfortable,” Buck warns as he helps Eddie out of the car, getting his arm over his shoulder so he doesn’t have to put weight on his foot. 

Eddie stills stiffen a yelp of pain as they take the few steps between the car and the closest motel room, the sound reverberating through Buck’s whole body, reminding him of a shot in the air and blood in his lips.

Focus, Buck, he tells himself. Eddie needs his help now. He can’t fall back into his old nightmares. 

By some kind of miracle, the door opens without protest, the first win of the day. The space is plunged in darkness, the air a little less heavy than outside and a little moldy, but at least he can make out the shape of a bed.

Eddie slumps a little more on him as they get in, and Buck decides to take things in his own hands and in an agile movement, gets him in his arms for the last few steps.

“Come on Buck, I’m fine,” Eddie grunts as Buck deposits him on the sole bed of the motel room. “I have tittynopes of blood left.” 

“Shut up. And you are not using that word correctly.” 

“I am. I just—” His face twists in pain before turning into a forced smile. “I just really don’t need that much blood to survive. You know, my body's used to all this.”

“I swear to god— Don’t even joke about it,” Buck breathes out, eyeing the room for anything that can help. There’s no electricity, of course, and he doesn’t want to open the curtains to bring the blinding light from outside and warm up the room, so he has to squint and go by touch. He checks the small bathroom, but there’s not even running water when he tries to open the tap. He finds a few clean towels, at least.

“I’m going to check reception,” he tells Eddie, who hasn’t moved one bit. Fine my ass, Buck thinks coming to him to put a hand over his brow. Eddie is burning. “We need to get you antibiotics,” he assesses.

“Probably,” Eddie approves, lucid enough still to access his paramedic knowledge. “If you can find any kind of antiseptic, that’d be great,” he slurs out.

“Okay,” Buck nods. “I’ve got you, okay? Don’t move.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t go far even if I wanted to.” 

Buck shakes his head, trying not to be too amused. Maybe it’s good one of them is not freaking out openly, at least. He puts a small kiss on Eddie’s forehead before telling him be right back, realizing what he just did only when he’s passed through the door.

Shit that was—

Not something Buck can focus on right now, he decides as he opens every drawer and every cupboard. Finally, on the top shelf under a layer of thick dust, he finds a metal box with a red cross on it. There’s nothing much inside, he realizes on his way back to Eddie. A small bottle of antiseptic, a few compress, but nothing much more. Nothing the size of what Eddie truly needs. 

Yet they’ll have to deal with it. 

“You’re back,” Eddie says when Buck enters the room.

Buck frowns, sitting next to his leg, wincing as how the blood has already started to trickle on the cover. There’s so much blood. Way too much. And it doesn’t seem to be ready to stop anytime soon. His stomach churns at that. “Where else would I be?” He asks, trying to not let despair take him away.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, his voice a little shaky. “You’re never here these days. Or I’m never here. I’m not sure.” 

Buck’s heart sinks at the words, a different kind of heaviness entirely taking over his body. The truth of the words rattle his bones, something he’s desperately been trying to ignore for… almost a year now. Something neither of them have dared to say. 

“I’m here now,” he manages to get out. “I think I should remove your pants,” he adds, hoping Eddie won’t recognize that he’s trying to change the topic. 

“You are,” Eddie answers, nodding hard. “You’re always here when it matters.”

  “And I’ll always be,” Buck swears, ignoring how much his stomach churns because of how much it doesn’t feel right lately. But he wants to change that. Go back to how things were before. 

But for this, he needs Eddie alive. All those words they need to say, their relationship they need to fix— he needs Eddie in full capacity for it. Not now.

“Can I remove your pants?” 

“Without taking me on a date first?” 

“I took you on a date,” Buck reminds him. “I owed you one.” 

“Yeah, but you said it was just a friend date,” Eddie whines, shaky hands still finding his belt, fumbling with trying to remove it. 

“Lots of friends remove each other’s pants,” Buck tries, even if he’s not really sure that’s true. He’s also very much unsure where Eddie is getting with this, and he’s not sure he can deal with it right now. Like many things over the past year, actually. “Let me help?” he asks, and Eddie finally stops his fumbling, wincing when Buck needs him to get up just a little to get his jeans fully down, avoiding his calf as best as he can. 

Somehow, against the golden, perfect expanses of Eddie’s thighs, the wound looks worse. Out of place, an heresy of the universe. Buck needs to make it go away.

“This is probably going to sting a little,” he warns before spraying some of the antiseptic on a compress.

“I can take it. I’ve been shot before, remember? This is nothing.” 

“I’m really going to need you to stop those jokes,” Buck admonishes, before applying the compress to the wound, softly washing away the dry blood and getting it clean.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie concedes, Buck stifling a laugh at the way he winces but tries very hard to hide it. 

The blood coming out seems less bad than in the car, probably thanks to Eddie’s position. But Buck can’t forget about the rust on the bear trap. It probably got into Eddie’s blood stream one way or another. It reminds him of Abigail, tied to a bed with rusty chains. If Eddie doesn’t get medicine soon, he’ll be writhing and yelling in pain before they’re out of here.

If the blood loss doesn’t kill him first.

“Twenty-four hours,” Eddie says suddenly.

“What?” 

“You’re wondering how long I have before I die,” Eddie explains. How did he— “Twenty four hours since that thing snapped on me, more or less. That’s what the army handbook said. For wounds like this, considering the risk of infection and all that.” 

“You had a section on bear traps?”

“Okay, it was the boy scouts,” Eddie admits, his smile easing some of the anxiety in Buck’s stomach. 

“I’m glad you had such thorough training,” Buck mocks as he grabs one of the towels and wraps it tight around Eddie’s calf, deciding to use his belt to keep it tight. 

“Always comes in handy,” Eddie nods. “But it’s not going to get to that, Buck,” Eddie promises. “Someone is bound to come around here before that.” 

Buck tries to believe it, but fails. Instead, he climbs up on the bed, laying down next to Eddie. “You promise?” He asks, offering his pinky like he always did with Maddie. Like he taught Christopher.

“I promise.” Eddie links his pinky with his, and for a moment, Buck almost believes it.

6pm (H-18)

Eddie has been asleep for a bit now. He looks almost fine like this, if not for the ashy shade of his skin. He’s dampened his shirt so much, Buck’s been wondering if he should remove it entirely. 

But he can’t do that unless Eddie is awake, and he doesn’t want that right now. Being awake would probably only bring more pain. So instead, he grabs one of the small towels, wets it as much as he will allow himself, realizing their reserves of water are already running low. He’s already done a full sweep of the hotel, leaving Eddie for half an hour that felt endless, but maybe he should try again.

Maybe there’s something out there he missed, the difference between life and death for them.

Buck freezes when Eddie’s eyes open, his gaze a little hazy. His movement stops mid air, the towel in the middle of Eddie’s forehead dripping a single drop of water down Eddie’s nose. Buck follows its path, mesmerized, before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Sorry—” he rushes out, a flush taking over his body.

“‘S nice,” Eddie mumbles, his voice a little slurry like he’s not totally there yet. “Thank you.” 

Buck nods weakly. It’s the least he can do, he wants to say. Taking care of his best friend when he’s dying in his arms. 

“How— How are you feeling?” 

Eddie takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he’s trying to do a full body scan through the power of his mind. “Better,” he decides at last. “You look like shit.” 

Buck scoffs. “Whatever I look like right now, you’re a thousand times worse.” 

“Way to shoot a man while he’s already down.”

“You’re dying and fishing for compliments?” 

“Last time I’ll ever hear them.” 

Buck crumbles at the thought.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie soothes. “Just joking. I’m fine,” he swears, which Buck knows is not true in any way. “You should rest a little,” he tells Buck.

“I need to watch over you,” Buck counters.

“Not in that state. Sleep a little. If I hear a car, I’ll wake you up.” Buck hesitates, but Eddie taps the pillow next to his and gives him that look, the one that says he should shut up and listen, and he stops protesting entirely. “Just thirty minutes,” Eddie adds.

“Thirty minutes,” Buck agrees.

It’s been a while since he slept next to Eddie. And even if the circumstances are the worst they could be, a twisted part of Buck’s soul can’t help but relish in that.

8pm (H-16)

Buck wakes up with a heavy mouth and drool running down his cheek. His gaze meets Eddie as soon as he opens his eyes, making him blush as he realizes how he must have looked.

“You didn’t wake me up,” he complains, feeling in his body he’s definitely been asleep for more than the thirty minutes that he had allocated. 

Eddie’s skin has only grown ashier, his gaze feverish. “You looked like you needed it.” He shrugs like he can’t tell in what state he truly is in. 

“I can’t believe you,” Buck mutters. 

“What?” Eddie asks, and it seems like he genuinely doesn’t see the problem. 

“Nothing,” Buck groans, getting himself up, looking to grab one of the water bottles he’s gathered. He allows himself just one sip.

“No, tell me,” Eddie orders. His body is tensed up when Buck looks at him again. 

“You can’t keep doing this,” Buck says at last, shaking his head as he removes the belt from Eddie’s calf, slowly unwrapping the wound.

“Doing what?” 

Buck looks up, meets Eddie’s gaze, and only shakes his head, trying not to let his annoyance spill over. He’s just not awake enough. If he starts laying it all on Eddie now, he might say things he will regret later. He’s already living with too many regrets to add to the pile. 

Not saying I love you back.

Not managing to keep Chris at home.

Not saving his brother.

He can already see it, another addendum: losing Eddie forever. Something he wouldn’t survive.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie insists as Buck’s heart skips a beat at the sight of the wound. It’s not trickling blood as much anymore, but it’s sweating out pus, and Buck might not be a paramedic, but knows enough to know it’s not a good sign.

He doesn’t answer Eddie though, only spraying the wound directly before cleaning it with a compress, maybe a little harder than he should as Eddie yelps in pain. “Fuck,” Eddie groans, and Buck regrets it instantly.

The sight of the wound is making him sick. The skin is bloated, evident signs of an infection already running up the leg. If they don’t get help soon, Eddie could lose his leg. Could lose his life. But his state looks too bad to move him now. Buck’s made a gamble and might have lost it.

And in the middle of all this—

Eddie doesn’t seem to care. Didn’t wake up Buck like he asks, still forgets about himself.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Buck repeats with a broken voice. 

Eddie's gaze softens, worry shining in his eyes at Buck's sudden emotion. “Doing what?” 

Buck bites down his lower lip, trying to stop its quivering. “Putting everyone else first. Fuck, you’re hurt Eddie. You should have rested.”

“It’s not going to change much—”

“Yeah? You think I can’t see how tired you look? Because I can.” 

“It was just a few hours.” 

“And you put yourself in danger. I can’t— you always put others first. You left for Texas—”

“I will always put Chris first,” Eddie cuts him, words harsh.

“I know. But this wasn’t about Chris. It was about you doing what your parents wanted, what they thought was best. You didn’t stop for a second to think that maybe what was best for you was what was best for Chris too.” 

The accusation lingers in the air, heavy from the heat and the weight of the words. Eddie swallows hard. Maybe it’s been long enough that he knows it’s true. More than a year ago. An eternity.

Buck should stop there, but he’s never been one to know when to stop. “You’re just— you’re just like Bobby, sometimes. And I just— I can’t lose you too.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Buck. Not anymore. I swear.” 

Buck shakes his head, sniffling hard to rein in his tears. “And yet you might be dying because you thought I needed to drive back instead of flying back. If you had thought about your comfort harder—”

“Buck,” Eddie stops him, moving with a wince to scoot closer to Buck, until he’s leaning close to him, eyes only a few inches away. “I wanted to get home driving because I wanted to spend more time with you. Because Nashville— That was the most fun I had with you in a year. And the only reason I’m hurt is because I’m an idiot.” 

Buck breathes in deep. Eddie is close, so close. He can see every bead of sweat running down his brow, feel his breath over his face. God, Eddie is gorgeous. Even half-dying, Buck can’t stop thinking about how soft he looks, how each line of his face seems to be coming straight down from heaven.

“Oh,” he manages to say.

“I know— I know you’re right. I know I can be a self-sacrificial idiot. But this— this was me being selfish, for once. I swear.”

“We did have fun in Nashville,” Buck manages to say at last.

“I’m still mad we didn’t win. Can you imagine? If I die, our last memory together is us losing,” Eddie shakes his head.

Buck pushes him away. “Shut up,” he says, but he can’t help but smile as he gets back to his work, wrapping Eddie’s calf in clean towels and closing it with the belt again. When Buck looks up to Eddie, he hasn’t moved. He is still close, very close, and there’s some kind of darkness in his eyes that Buck can’t decipher.

Eddie’s eyes dip, and for a moment Buck thinks he might be looking at his lips, before he remembers there’s no way that’s what Eddie’s doing. 

Before he gets crazier ideas, Buck stands up, going to the large bay window, and opening it wide. The night has fallen already, and it’s fresher air that enters the room, the tension leaving the space with the heavy air. 

Finally, Buck can breathe again. Every star is visible to the naked eye, a spectacle Buck hasn’t seen in years. 

“We should go stargazing, when we get home,” Eddie says, making Buck realize he got up.

“You shouldn’t be up,” Buck warns, but Eddie doesn’t listen, somehow managing to get to one of the chairs on the patio and sitting down. “How are you even up?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Told you I’m fine,” Eddie says, as if Buck hasn’t seen the way his calf looked minutes before. Is this not even more worrying? Adrenaline suddenly overriding Eddie’s senses? 

As soon as he gets home, he needs to take a paramedic class.

“I liked this in El Paso. That there were more stars.” 

Buck winces at the mention, like he never can help himself when Eddie mentions the time he was away. 

“I’m sure we can find a spot near LA that’s better than El Paso,” Buck stays pettily, grabbing a chair and taking it closer to Eddie’s.

Eddie smiles, something that makes Buck’s inside melt again.

“I trust your googling skills,” Eddie says softly. “We could buy a telescope for Chris. I’m sure he would love it.” 

Only then does Buck realize what Eddie is doing. He’s shaking a little, not from the cold. There hasn’t been any car in all the time they’ve been there. And he must feel the way the infection must be spreading through his body. 

Eddie is terrified he might be dying.

And he’s making plans to beat death.

“I haven’t been to the beach in a while,” he says not so offhandedly. 

“We should go,” Eddie agrees. “We haven’t been back since we came home.” 

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Really?” It feels weird not to know. He used to know every minute of Eddie’s schedule but when he came back— He wanted to give Chris and Eddie some space. Let them live, get back to their lives. Not adding himself in the mix when Chris and Eddie had evolved and didn’t need him around.

Didn’t need him to mess things up. 

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. “We just— haven’t had much time,” he shrugs. “But I think Chris misses it. And he misses you, too.” 

Buck nods, avoiding Eddie’s gaze at the words. “I miss him too,” he manages to croak. “So. The beach, stargazing. What else are we doing?” 

“I want to travel more. I’m getting tired of the route between El Paso and LA,” Eddie admits.

“You still want to travel? After this?” Buck raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s all part of the adventure. I do think I’d feel better with a beer,” Eddie amends.

“Yeah, me too. And ice cream.” 

“I would kill for ice cream,” Eddie groans. “Ice, in general,” he winces.

Buck winces. “Me too. So that settles it. First thing we do when we’re back in LA is beer and ice cream” 

“That’s a—” Eddie starts with a grin, before suddenly stopping himself. “Sounds like a plan,” he says at last.

Buck’s never been religious, but he still sends a prayer they’ll live to see it through.

12am (H-12)

Eddie is grunting in pain in his sleep. It’s a terrifying sound, and a terrifying sight when he writhes and tosses, and Buck can do nothing to help. He’s checked every room of the motel, every corner for any kind of medicine, phone, any way to get help. 

But there’s nothing.

The owner left it to rot without any chance of survival, and each passing hour weighs on Buck’s shoulder a little heavier. It’s midnight, so it’s been around twelve hours since the bear-trap. Twelve hours, and they still haven’t heard a soul come back, no one on the road, not even a moving light in the sky that would remind him there are still other humans out there.

He’s trying to be sparse with the water resources. They don’t have that many water bottles, and Buck’s been making sure Eddie stays hydrated. As for food, they have nothing left. How could they be so unprepared for this? They’re firefighters. They should have known better. 

Yet here they are, stranded, awaiting death because of a stupid bear trap.

Buck tries to shake the heavy thoughts away, concentrating, checking Eddie’s pulse at his wrists. It’s quicker than it should be, but it doesn’t sound that worrying. The bleeding is really not that bad anymore. But Buck’s too tired to drive them without getting them into an accident, especially at night. Their best chance is for someone to come by, but it happening in the next hours feels like a pipe-dream.

He decides to go check the road again. He knows he would hear any vehicle from probably a mile away, considering how flat the world is, but his stupid heart is still beating with hope as he gets out of the room and walks to the road.

He finds it empty.

No flickering light coming towards them, not even in the hills they left earlier that day. It crashes onto Buck then, how feeble their chances of survival truly are. In a few hours, the sun will rise, bringing back blistering heat neither of their bodies are in shape to survive.

Eddie will go first, Buck second, and who knows how long it would be for them to be found. Buck had hoped— Buck had hoped this was a new beginning for them. It’s actually the end of the road. 

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice calls from the bedroom, and Buck only has a moment to wipe off the tears at the corner of his eyes before he’s running in.

“Are you okay?” He asks as soon as he is in the room, running to Eddie, putting a hand on his forehead to check his temperature hasn’t risen. It’s pretty bad. But it doesn’t seem much worse than a few hours ago, which brings some kind of sick relief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mumbles, his cheeks somehow taking a redder hue that has Buck frowning. “I just thought you were gone,” Eddie whines, a sound so unlike him it freezes Buck into place for a moment.

“I’m here,” Buck reassures. “Sorry. I’m here now.” 

“‘S fine,” Eddie mumbles, but as he says the word, he scoots to the left, before grabbing Buck’s hand and pulling him next to him. Buck goes without protest, unsure what Eddie really wants until his head is on Buck’s shoulder. “I should be the one apologizing,” Eddie adds, hiding his head in the crook of Buck’s neck.

“Why should you apologize?” Buck croaks, unsure how to deal with the weight of Eddie on him and his needs to wrap him in his arms and never let him go.

“I was gone for so long— I left you. And I never said sorry.” 

“It’s fine Eddie. I know you had to go.” 

“No it’s not. I just— I hated leaving you. It made me feel sick to leave LA.” 

“You’re back now,” Buck reassures.

Eddie nods in his shoulder, letting out a grunt of pain. “If I— If I die, I need to tell you—” 

“Hey you’re— You’re not going to die.”

“Listen I— I just want to say— When you said you were moving out I should have— I should have asked you to stay. I know it’s not— Probably not— what you would want. But I wanted to be selfish. Tell you we need you with us.” 

Buck’s heart drops in his chest. No one ever asked him— he never thought— Eddie wanted him to stay?

“I hate your stupid house,” Eddie continues, like he hasn’t changed Buck’s world in just a few words. 

“Hey, I like my house,” Buck protests. 

“I hate it. It’s too far from mine.” 

Buck snorts at that. There isn’t even a ten minute drive between their homes. “I like it. My backyard is better than yours.”

“You’re just saying this because of the hot tub.” 

“If you tried the hot tub, you’d know why it’s so good.”

“Another thing to do once we’re out of here,” Eddie says weakly like he doesn’t fully believe it.

“Yes,” Buck says with certainty. “You’re going to finally learn to appreciate it. And you will relax.”

“Deal,” Eddie says, finally meeting his gaze.

“And for the record,” Buck adds, heart pounding in his chest as he meets Eddie’s heavy gaze. “I would have said yes. I would have stayed. On your couch or on your porch, I don’t care. I would have stayed wherever you wanted me.” 

Eddie hitches a breath, and there it is again, that slight dip of his gaze towards Buck’s lips. If Buck moved, just a few inches, he’d get to know the taste of Eddie’s lips. They would probably taste of salty sweat now, but Buck wouldn’t mind. If the poison in Eddie’s blood could be shared from his lips, Buck would kiss him anyway, because he knows he would die happy. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says at last. “For everything.” 

It sounds like goodbye. So Buck does the only thing he can do, he whispers back, “Thank you for being my best friend,” before putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and bringing him close. Like the weight of his touch might be enough to pull Eddie away from death’s grip.

3AM (H-10)

“Are you scared?”

Buck’s been looking at the night sky for a while now, letting his thoughts trail back to his family who probably has no idea they’re missing, when Eddie’s question takes him by surprise.

“Are you?” He asks softly in return, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. Their hands have been intertwined for a while now. 

“A bit,” Eddie admits. Buck swallows hard. He knows he’s only been looking worse and worse. His leg is a mess, he’s seen it the last time he changed his bandage. Buck would do anything to take over that pain. “I miss Abuela,” Eddie confesses, a pain they never really got to share. 

“Me too,” Buck is brave enough to say. To try to take away some of that pain. 

“You know, when I was a kid— If I ever got hurt, it’s not my mother I would call. It’s her I would cry for. And I just— I wish I could call her now. Tell her how I hurt. It just— fuck, it sucks she left before I could tell her who I was. That she was right, because she’s always right about everything.” Eddie’s rambling takes Buck by surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t. When Eddie told him those three words that changed Buck’s whole world, I am gay, they didn’t discuss it. Not as much as best friends should have, maybe. “You know—,” Eddie continues, “people would call me a momma’s boy. When I was a kid. Say that… If I kept being like this, I’d end up queer.” Buck flinches at the word. “But she always said— She always said there’s nothing wrong with that. I wonder if she knew.” 

Buck takes a long breath, looking for the right words. “I— I don’t know if she knew, Eddie. But she would have loved you the same way if you had the time to tell her. I’m sure she’s so fucking proud of you now.”  

Eddie nods weakly, blinking away the wetness of his eyes before his face contracts in pain that has nothing to do with his grief.

“I miss Bobby,” Buck says. He doesn’t need to voice it for Eddie to know exactly what he means. That Buck never had a true parental figure to cry for growing up. He had Maddie, but Maddie was his sister. So it was unfair he had to rely so much on her. 

And then had come Bobby. Who had taken him in like an abandoned puppy, training him to be a better person. He’d known how to look under the layers of Buck’s messiness and immaturity, maybe guessing that he only needed a warm meal and a few life lessons to soften. Showing him not only all the ways to be a firefighter; but how to become a man he could be proud to be, too. And in this moment, there’s only one person he wants to cry for help for. 

But Bobby will never come running again.

And Buck and Eddie are closer to him now than they’d ever been in the past year.

“Me too,” Eddie confesses. “I wish I’d come back home before—” He catches Buck’s gaze. “Not because it would have changed anything. But so I could say thank you. One last time. For everything.” 

Buck nods weakly. Bobby’s face flashes under his eyes, the blue lights that hadn’t hidden his pain. I love you, kid. “I didn’t get to tell him I loved him. Well— I— I had time for it. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t say goodbye.” 

Buck sniffles, pain he’s never learned to deal with suddenly piercing through his heart again.

“He knew,” Eddie swears, gripping Buck’s hand tight. “He knew how much you meant to him.” 

Buck nods, not sure he’ll ever believe it. Maybe he’ll get to tell him to his face in a few hours, anyway. 

“Why did it take you so long to come back home?” He breathes out, suddenly feeling brave enough to ask it.

Eddie meets Buck’s gaze. “I wanted to come back the minute I left. I wanted to fight and come back home— come back to you,” he rectifies himself. “But even when I had Chris back— I was scared. Terrified of losing him if I ever suggested it. And then Chim made me realize how stupid it all was, to stay away. So we came back. But I don’t think— I don’t think this fear ever truly left me.” 

“He loves you, Eddie. He’s never going to run away to your parents anymore. They’ve scarred him enough,” he adds with a pitiful smile.

“I guess,” Eddie agrees. “I think it’s also— it’s why it took me so long to come out,” Eddie confesses, avoiding Buck’s gaze, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. I was scared if I changed anything— If I told him, he would reject me. I know he wouldn’t have a problem with it, but maybe he’d thought I would— mess everything up. And resent me for that. It was safer not to say anything.” 

Buck hesitates for a moment, before bringing their tangled hands to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’m glad you realized you’re safe,” Buck says at last.

Eddie seems to think for a moment, before he lets out a little chuckle. “You know, if I die—” 

“Stop saying that,” Buck warns.

“If I die,” Eddie repeats, ignoring him completely. “It will be without having kissed a man.” And then, his gaze meets Buck.

Buck’s heart stops, just like the connections in his brain. There’s intent in that gaze, a question asked, easily read when they know each other so much.

Eddie squeezes around their joint hands.

But Buck can’t offer. Not when he’s not sure Eddie is not just delirious, driven by his fever.

“Buck,” Eddie asks softly, his gaze dipping to his lips. “What's it like to kiss a man?” 

“It’s just— ” Buck takes a deep breath. “It’s not so different from kissing a woman,” he tries, voice husky.

“Can you show me?” 

“Eddie—” 

“Buck,” Eddie says with a smile.

“It’s not a good idea.” 

“It’s an excellent idea.” 

“You’re not thinking straight.” 

“Definitely not,” Eddie agrees.

“Eddie.” 

“Come on, Buckley. Don’t let me die without knowing what kissing a guy feels like.” 

Buck closes his eyes, fighting with everything he has. But he’s a weak, weak man, who’s had a fucking day, and the man he’s deeply in love with is asking for a kiss, and it’s true, it might be the last time Eddie—or either of them, at this point—gets to kiss someone.

Eddie asks.

Buck can give.

What is there to discuss, really?

Buck opens his eyes again, checking one last time that Eddie truly wants this before leaning in, their lips meeting in a softest touch. It’s barely a kiss, but it’s enough for a thousand butterflies to take their first flight in Buck’s stomach.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Eddie asks when Buck moves back. His eyebrow twitches playfully, but his eyes sparkle in a way Buck’s never seen before. 

No, that’s not all he got. 

There’s so much more he wants to give him. If he can’t save him, let this be the last thing he offers: the true embrace of a lover.

When Buck’s lips meet Eddie’s again, it’s nothing like their first kiss. It’s a fire unleashing, Buck letting out all he’s been feeling for the last eight years of his life into the kiss. Everything he’s had to tone down, he gives it to Eddie, his love as he kisses him hard, his passion as he tugs on his bottom lips, the very core of himself when their tongues meet.

It might be a little messier than he’d like.

Buck is, after all, not at the top of his capacities.

But it’s still a life changing kiss, the one Buck’s romantic heart has been looking for all his life. And Eddie doesn’t stay static in this. He melts into the kiss, licks into his mouth, lets out soft moans like he’s just found the greatest of pleasure, something he wasn’t sure truly existed.

When they come out of it for air, Buck almost spills his heart out. It’s so tempting to say those three words, the one that would change everything. Instead, he says, “this is what it feels like.” 

“That’s nice,” Eddie pants out. “Can I get another sample?” 

And Buck is happy to oblige, refusing to let himself linger on what it could truly mean. There’s no way Eddie feels the same about Buck. Because Eddie deserves so much better. But it’s fine, because even if it’s just for one moment, Buck gets to have him. 

He doesn’t know for how long they kiss. When passion turns into something softer, brushes that are barely anything, but that only exist because they can’t get away from each other.

In the middle of horror, it’s the softness they both desperately need.

Eddie starts to doze off at some point, and he whines, refusing to let go of Buck when he tells him he should rest.

“I wanna watch the sun rise with you,” Eddie says, a little nonsensical. 

“I’ll wake you up,” Buck promises, pressing one last kiss to his lips. The last one he’ll ever get to give, he guesses. Whether they get out of here or not, this moment only exists between them and the night stars. It will fade away at sunrise, and they’ll never have to talk about it again.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He’s already fallen into Morpheus’ arms.

6am (H-6)

Eddie has been snoring softly for a bit when Buck shakes him awake to fill his promise. The sky has been slowly turning a shade brighter, barely visible at first, but Buck’s sure of it now. It’s the end of their night there.

And maybe the last sunrise they’ll ever watch.

No, Buck forces himself to change his thoughts. This is the first sunrise he’ll live knowing what Eddie Diaz’ lips taste like. That feels way better.

Eddie groans, refusing to open his eyes despite the change of his breathing letting Buck know he’s awake. 

Buck’s body protests as he leans to the side of the bed, exhaustion and dehydration making everything harder than it should be. He manages to grab a bottle that still has a bit of water, only allowing himself to wet his lips before shaking Eddie awake again until his eyes are finally open, and handing him the water. Eddie doesn’t say anything, only drinking as instructed.

They don’t talk. They just watch the sunrise in silence, only the wind and the sounds of the world awakening filling the world. Birds chirping, rustling bushes. Shades of pinks and blues and purples. No cars, of course, because that’d be asking for a little too much. 

It’s just another sunrise. 

One of thousands they watched together, on shift or when late night conversations turned into nights without sleep, trading secrets and fears. A symbol of all the vicissitudes of their lives, always meeting right in the middle in the only place where they could find comfort.

Buck doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hand is on his cheek, wiping away a tear.

“It’s all going to be fine,” Eddie croaks, his voice nothing but a rasp at this point. “You’ve got Chris, right?” 

Buck can’t answer that. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s brow.

Of course he got him, he needs to stay. If he loses Eddie, he’ll fight every step to be there for him. No matter that Buck’s soul will die with him.

12am (H-0)

There’s a sound that awakes Buck, something different from the sounds of the desert he’s gotten used to by now. Flapflapflap. It’s something that should make him move. But he’s not sure why, not sure where he is.

Everything hurts. That’s the only thing he knows right now, and the fact the body next to his is not raising as much as it should. He can feel his little shakes from pain and from breathing, nothing like the deep breathing he knows him to have when he sleeps soundly.

Flapflapflap. Can the thing go away?

Buck is tired. So tired. 

He just wants to sleep a little more.

Can they leave him alone?

The sound gets stronger. Maybe they’re looking for them. Maybe—

Maybe they’re looking for them.

Buck manages to open his eyes, the bright light immediately blinding him. He needs— He needs to move. Before they go away. For him. For Chris. For himself, too, even if he’s never considered his life to be worth much. 

His whole body seems to fight against him as he manages to sit up, only giving himself a moment to kiss Eddie’s brow one last time in case this is his last trip on this earth. “I love you,” he whispers in his air, to his body who’s looking so close to death Buck might throw up, and then he takes a step. 

He immediately falls to his knees, but doesn’t falter. He doesn’t try to get up, he knows that wouldn’t go well. His head is turning around too much for that. So he crawls. Out of the room, out in the open, out to the chairs where they talked last night.

And only when he knows he’s visible, the hard sun already blistering his skin, does he allow himself to collapse. 

8pm (H+56)

Eddie’s house is quiet when they come in. Christopher disappeared in his room immediately, with that teenage detachment that says, yes, you almost died, but you’re back from the hospital, so I’m going to play my video games again now.

That leaves Buck and Eddie staying in the kitchen, sharing the beer they’ve been desperately needing the last few days. When they were found, they were both in severe dehydration. The doctor said it was a miracle they saved Eddie’s leg.

But here they are, alive, breathing, fine.

Back into their everyday normal with a snap of a doctor’s fingers.

Buck should go home, he thinks as they sip their beer in silence, standing up against the counters of Eddie’s kitchen. There’s been a little too much sitting and lying in bed the past few days. 

But this silence feels different. Not like they’re out of synch like they’ve been for the past… almost year. Like, at last, they know exactly where they should be in the other’s orbit again.

Buck shakes his head at the thought, almost fondly.

“What?” Eddie asks, frowning.

“I can’t believe it took us almost dying to finally talk.”

“Hey I almost died. Stop trying to steal my thunder.”

Buck rolls his eyes at that, taking a sip of his beer. Thunder’s his thing, he wants to say. But they’ve been talking too much about death in the last few days, so he shuts up. 

"I guess—” Eddie starts, a bit more serious. “I guess for a bit we stopped talking the same language."

"I started to use words like 'tittynope'?" 

"Yeah. And— I stopped telling you how much you mattered to me." 

"You told me when you left."

"But didn't tell you when I came back." 

Buck swallows hard. Was Eddie always standing so close? “I knew,” Buck says softly. “Even if— things were hard, I knew.” 

Eddie nods, a breath away from Buck. His skin has taken back its golden hue, warmer under the lights of the kitchen. 

“You know,” Eddie starts, putting down his beer. “I wasn’t scared of dying without having kissed a man.” He raises his hand to cradle Buck’s face, softly trailing his jaw. His thumb caresses his lips so softly Buck stops breathing. “I was scared of dying without having kissed you,” Eddie confesses, and a dam breaks. 

A moment Buck puts down his beer, the next his hands are in Eddie’s hair, kissing him hard, letting all the relief and everything he’s been holding on for the last few days crash over him.

It’s the best kiss of Buck’s life, because it’s safe, because it’s home, because it’s not born from desperation but from knowing they can have this forever if they want to.

“Do you— Are you—” Buck stutters.

“I’m in love with you, Buck,” Eddie says, with such certainty it takes Buck by surprise.

Buck kisses him again for that, before chuckling, hands grabbing Eddie’s waist to get him closer. "You were going to die without telling me you love me, asshole."

Eddie rolls his eyes at that. "Well, you were going to let me die without telling me you love me, sweetheart."

Buck’s heart lurches at that, and though he desperately needs to kiss Eddie some more for that nickname, there’s something he needs to say first. That can wait. They have all the time in the world. "I thought you knew," Buck confesses.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that, letting him continue.

"Everyone in my life knows I'm madly in love with you, Eddie. I didn't think there was any way you didn't know." 

“Oh. I was— I was hoping for it,” Eddie confesses. “I just stupidly thought we had all the time in the world.” 

“We do. We do now,” Buck confirms, before sweeping Eddie off his feet, making him wrap his legs around him before taking him to Eddie’s bedroom. Their bedroom, if Eddie hates his house as much as he claimed. 

He can move out of there as soon as they’ve tried the hot tub together.

They’ve got all the time in the world to figure that out.