Chapter Text
Buck thought that he would be alright, at least that was what Bobby had told him and Bobby was never wrong. Only for a moment he let himself crumble. Right after Bobby drew his last breath, he let himself feel the intensity of it, only once — and it felt suffocating, like someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room.
He couldn't even feel it when he slumped down the walls and he hit the floor. The noises that he made sounded similar to the ones that he made when his leg got crushed by the ladder truck, only this time it was the weight of the world without Bobby Nash in it.
If Buck was only was fast enough, maybe he could have prevented Bobby from closing that door. Maybe if he said something different, he could have convinced him that there was still a way to cure him. Maybe he could have at least joined him, hugged him one last time. Buck let out a chocked scream, hitting the floor with his fists.
At least nobody was there to witness his breakdown. This way he could at least pretend that it never happened. Bobby gave him his last order, or at least Buck told himself that it was one, because he knew how to follow orders. Bobby taught him that.
They're going to need you.
Those words gave him a sense of purpose, a reason for him to get up, because he knew that he couldn't lay on that cold concrete floor forever.
He would need to get himself back together and be strong for his team— for his friends, for his family. So he will keep his emotions at bay by consoling the others, like death and the grief couldn't touch him and it would be okay. He would be alright. There was a faint doubt in the back of his mind but he shook his head and gritted his teeth.
He slowly propped himself up until he was able to stand up again. He used the wall to support himself, to use it as a way to ground him, guide him outside. He had to be fast, because he couldn't be here when they retrieved Bobby's body. He looked back one more time, tears still damp on his skin and whispered.
"I love you too, pops."
When he left the lab, it felt like his body was on autopilot and each step felt heavy, like he was walking through water. He tried to move faster, to avoid the tent in which Colonel Hartman and his people were probably waiting to question him.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see a silhouette approach him and he almost stumbled over his own feet.
"Evan—" Buck immediately recognized the familiar voice. He flinched and turned around to meet Tommy's concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"
He walked over to him to take in his whole frame and Buck looked at him shell-shocked. If he opens up now, he wasn't sure if he could close the dam of emotions again.
So he nodded almost mechanically. "I— I'll be okay."
Tommy looked at him, taken aback, like he didn't expect that answer from him. Buck couldn’t tell Tommy the truth, he had convinced himself that this wasn't about him.
He can't be selfish and break down in front of everyone, because he wasn't the only one who lost someone important today.
There was Athena, who had lost her husband and May and Harry who lost their step-dad. Ann, Bobby's mother who would need to bury her son before she died and Charlie, his brother who only got to meet Bobby again recently after decades of not seeing each other.
Not to forget the rest of the 118 who lost their Cap, their friend.
He couldn't be selfish and make it all about him just because he saw a father figure in Bobby.
Just a few hours ago, Buck was sitting in Tommy's helicopter, feeling giddy and hopeful. But now the tides have turned and Buck wondered whether Tommy was better off without him. He had already risked enough for Buck.
He couldn't possibly ask him for more, right?
Before Tommy had the chance to say anything further, Buck already sprinted away from him and their unresolved feelings.