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Chapter Text

Four Months Prior

“Diaz - Eddie - she’s gone.”

The voice came from behind him, and though he knew - deep down, he knew - his hands wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

And so, he pressed down again, feeling the cracked ribs that had broken minutes prior in the desperate attempt to save this woman’s life.

The distant screams of the woman’s husband echoed throughout his ears, refusing to leave - almost as if they were etched into his very soul.

“Eddie,” a voice spoke calmly, peeking through the tornado of emotions, almost like a guiding light in the darkness.

Buck.

“You need to stop. Step away. Please,” the voice continued, except now there was a firm hand on his shoulder, the only anchor in this crisis.

He could feel his body shaking, and then he looked down upon the lifeless body in front of him. Eyes still pried open, tear stains down her cheeks from when she’d called out to her husband in her last moments on this Earth.

He’d done this. He hadn’t pushed himself hard enough. He hadn’t -

“It’s not your fault,” Buck echoed, as if he could see and hear into Eddie’s mind. “No one could’ve saved her.”

“I should’ve saved her,” was all he could manage. “This is my job. It’s what I do, I -”

The screams from her husband cut him off as he was wheeled past by Hen.

“You let my wife die!” he screeched, clambering to get out of the bed, barely restrained by the other assisting paramedic from the 127.

“Sir -” Buck started, but he wouldn’t hear it as the same word played over and over in Eddie’s head.

Murderer.

Murderer.

Murderer.

Chapter Text

Present Day

“I wonder if Hen has forced Chris into bed by now,” Eddie mused, leaning back against the bed’s headboard, beer in hand.

A laugh escaped from Buck’s throat. “No way. Chris has her wrapped around his little finger. Odds are he’s still kicking ass at that new video game we were playing last week.”

Eddie smiled. “He does kick ass on that game. Even mine.”

Buck’s eyebrows raised. “It helps that you are just ass at the game, Eddie.”

Eddie gave him a look, and Buck wisely stopped talking, instead opting to continue drinking his beer. “At least the Games were a success. We can return back to LA with our heads held high.”

“Now that, I can drink to. Nothing better than showing Boston they’re not invincible,” Buck grinned.

“I will never comprehend how fierce your competitive streak is,” Eddie laughed, kicking his shoes off onto the floor.

Buck just smiled once again, taking a large swig of his beer. He glanced at his phone, and then the time. “I should probably go back into my room. We wanna be out of here early tomorrow, so we make good time back to LA.”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure. Sounds good to me.”

With a wave, Buck left Eddie’s motel room, and went to head for the stairs when he heard something drop, then subsequently smash, from round the corner, piquing his interest. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that Evan Buckley was a busybody. He was just - naturally very curious. Some would say it was an asset - others, well - perhaps a hindrance.

“Hello?” Buck asked, expecting to see a drunkard pratting around on the balcony, but - no one. No one, except for the shattered beer bottle on the floor.

A closer inspection had Buck looking around once again, eyebrows raised. The shattered bottle on the floor was the exact same brand of beer that he and Eddie had been drinking just moments previous. A nervous afterthought died in Buck’s throat as he left the shards of glass littering the floor, and headed back to his own room.

To: Eddie

the sooner we’re back in la the better

Why?

this place gives me the creeps

It was literally your idea to stop here

I think you’ve had too much to drink

maybe

How about I drive us back tomorrow?

fine

When Buck woke up the next morning, he could hardly remember why he'd felt so unnerved last night. Now that he could see the motel in the daylight - the situation seemed to blend in with the norm around here. This was a halfway house - of sorts. Where outsiders and misfits came to slip in amongst the crowd. It was in the middle of nowhere, right next to the I-70, and everyone here seemed to be stopping off for the night before continuing with their travel. 

A knock on his room door had him sitting up in bed. The air conditioning unit was broken - according to the receptionist, who he'd asked last night - and so, Buck had slept shirtless. He glanced around his room for his shirt, but - 

Another knock. Then another. Then - 

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming! Jeez!" He yelled, pulling back the cover, and padding over to the door, opening it and - 

Eddie stood on the other side, grinning like a cheshire cat. 

"Why do you look so pleased with yourself?" Buck found himself asking, opening the door wider to let his friend in. 

"Well, I had a fantastic night of sleep, and then this morning I went for a run. I've been very productive. And - oof. It's warm in here," he noted, plopping himself down on the edge of the bed. 

Buck could've hit him. "My air con unit is broken, apparently. I've been sweating like a pig for the entire night." 

Eddie laughed - then, after noting Buck's face, wisely stopped. 

"You could've messaged. There was a couch in my room." 

"Well, forgive me, Eddie, but after driving for nearly twelve hours, I was too exhausted to move."

"It's a good thing I'm driving today, then, isn't it?" he crooned, throwing him a bottle of water. "Drink up. It would really inconvenience me if you started to have heatstroke, or other signs of dehydration."

"Of course it would inconvenience you," Buck retorted, but gladly accepting the water, guzzling it. 

"Wow, you are cranky this morning," Eddie commented, looking like he was having the time of his life. 

"Let's just get back to LA, and my own bed."

An hour later, they were back on the I-70, back to LA. If the weather and traffic would spare them today, it would mean they could make most of the trip today, with another potential pit stop before the final stretch tomorrow. 

Buck relaxed into the passenger seat, more than happy to let Eddie do the driving today. He was still exhausted from yesterday, and he was pretty sure his leg still had cramp. 

"You know, you should really upgrade to an automatic, instead of a manual," Eddie complained, changing gears. "It's so much easier to drive."

Buck shot him a look. "I've had this baby since I got my license. I'm not parting with her until she dies on me."

"It's a car, Buck."

"It's got sentimental value," he shot back. "Don't even bother saying anything else, because I won't change my mind." 

He was pretty sure Eddie called him crazy, but he wasn't focused on Eddie, because in his rearview, he caught a blue sedan shuttling towards them, definitely going way over the speed limit. 

"Watch out," Buck warned, "that car's gonna try overtake us." 

Eddie checked his mirror nodding his head in agreement. "Yeah, I see. Idiot," he chuckled, relaxing back into his seat. 

Buck waited to watch the blue sedan overtake, but - 

A sense of looming dread smacked into Buck at the same time that Eddie swore. 

The blue sedan was in fact, not trying to overtake, but instead - 

Run them off the road. 

Chapter Text

"He's coming around," an unfamiliar voice spoke, but Eddie couldn't place who it belonged to. 

Too old for Chris. Too serious sounding for Chimney. 

Bobby - no. It definitely wasn't Bobby. 

He willed his eyes to open, and though they did, it was much harder than it should've been. 

His head was pounding, almost as if someone was beating the side of his scalp with a bat. 

"Mr Diaz, please try not to panic, you -"

"Buck.." he mumbled, his fingers trying to clench. "B..Buck," he mumbled, once again. 

"What was that, Mr Diaz?" the unfamiliar voice asked, and finally, Eddie opened his eyes. 

The lights were bright. Violently so, that instinct called for his hand to block his eyes, as if they needed saving. Even so, that came at a cost, and a sharp pain ripped through his body, threatening a pained moan to leave his lips. 

"W - where's...Buck," he tried again. 

"Is there someone you want us to call?" the voice asked, and Eddie squinted, taking in his surroundings. 

Everything was white. Sterile. And the man speaking - he was dressed in scrubs. With a white coat. 

A doctor?

"Where am I?" Eddie asked, panic spreading through his body, bile burning at the back of his throat. 

"Kennedy Shaw Hospital, Colorado," the man replied, his voice kinder now. "You were in an accident, on the I-70," he explained. 

He closed his eyes. 

A dream, surely. A weird one, but a dream. It had to be. Because -

"Is there someone we can call?" 

Eddie opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. He was still in this room, his head was still pounding, and -

"Buck," Eddie rasped again. "Where is Buck?" 

The doctor looked at him as if he was crazy. "As I said, we can call -"

"No," Eddie insisted, trying his hardest to sit up. "Where's Buck? I was...I was travelling with him."

Now it was the doctor's turn to falter. "Mr Diaz - you were alone in the car."

He vomited. Over himself. The bed. Even the floor. 

He heard the doctor call for assistance, but then everything faded into darkness. 

"Eddie?" 

He stirred at the recognisable voice. When he opened his eyes, it was easier, though his head was still pounding. 

He looked in the direction of the voice, and was met by the friendly gaze belonging to his Captain. 

"Chimney?" he asked, trying to sit up. "What - why are you here? What happened?" 

"Where do I even start?" Chimney spoke, his eyes filling with tears, looking as if he was barely holding himself together. 

"From the beginning," Eddie demanded, his heart racing. "Is Chris -"

"Back in LA. We thought it was best to keep him there, until -"

"Until what?" he demanded once again. 

"You were supposed to arrive back to LA three days ago. Then - you didn't. Neither you or Buck were answering your calls. Then we heard about the crash on the I-70 on the news, and Hen recognised Buck's car. Since then, we've been phoning every damn hospital in seven different states."

"I don't understand, the doctor told me that I was alone in the car, but Buck -"

A solitary tear slid down Chimney's face. "Buck is missing, Eddie. No one knows where he is."

The words struck Eddie. They reverberated throughout his entire body, bouncing off of every empty alcove. Then, they settled deep in his stomach, spreading like a virus. 

Missing? 

"Have search and rescue checked the surrounding area? He -"

"All of his stuff was gone from the car, too, Eddie," Chimney continued. "It's like he was never in the car."

Eddie didn't usually cry, but he was damn well close to it right now. 

"Chim, that's impossible. We were - we were both in the car, I was driving, and then -"

Blank. 

Nothing. 

"I - I don't remember. I can't -"

Chimney reached out his hand to steady Eddie's shaking fingers. 

"You had a pretty nasty head laceration. Your memory might very well be shaky for a little while yet. It'll come back, Eddie. And when it does, there will be cops to take statements, cops who will put everything into finding Buck, if there is any foul play. But for right now, search and rescue are out there, searching. We'll find him."

Eddie's bottom lip trembled. 

"We'll find him."

Chapter Text

Before he could acknowledge anything else, Buck could smell burning. 

It was slightly ironic, with him being a firefighter. 

Yet here he was, trapped in a burning inferno, with no way to get out, or help the unconscious male to his left. Or maybe his right - he couldn't quite tell. 

What he could tell, however, was a deep gash running down the side of Eddie's face. The kind that had serious consequences if left untreated. 

"Shit," he breathed, his hand stretching out, trying to reach for Eddie, trying to rouse him, trying to - 

Anything. Trying to do anything, something - to help his best friend. 

He couldn't reach. He was in such an awkward position, he couldn't do anything. Couldn't move. 

One moment he'd been relaxing in his seat as they'd been travelling down the I-70, then the next - 

Blue sedan. 

There had been a blue sedan behind them and Buck had joked about them overtaking, then -

A crunch of glass sounded from outside of the blaze. 

A saving grace. Their saviour. 

"In here!" Buck called out, even in his daze, knowing that pinpointing his location could be the difference between life and death. 

The footsteps stopped, coming no closer. 

Buck raised his voice. "We're in here!"

Then, a chilling sound. 

"I know exactly where you are, Evan Buckley."

Buck's heart stopped in his chest. 

This had to be some sort of nightmare. His mind playing tricks on him. 

"Who are you?" Buck managed to sound out, his voice hoarse. He turned his head to the window - the glass shattered from the impact. 

There was a man stood next to his ruined car. 

He too, looked worse for wear, though not as critical as Eddie looked - and as Buck felt. 

"You'll find out soon enough," was all he said, before he pulled something from his coat pocket, and smacked it against Buck's temple, forcing him into darkness. 

Buck's head was pounding. His lips were chapped - he was dehydrated, just like Eddie had joked before starting their drive. 

He wasn't even sure how much time had passed. Or what day it was. 

He wasn't sure about anything, anymore. 

The one things he knew for certain, was that his hands were tied, and that whatever his captor had used was heavy duty stuff. His wrists were in agony, his head feeling on the verge of exploding, and one look down at his leg made him want to throw up. 

With the adrenaline coursing through his body, he hadn't felt it before, when he'd woken up in the burning car. 

But now, as that adrenaline was slowly wearing off...

His leg was bent at an awkward angle. Deep, purple bruises had blossomed, and he knew just from surveying it that it was broken. Left untreated, he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk on it ever again. 

"Ah, you're finally awake. I was wondering how long it would take you," the voice spoke, although it was coming from behind him, and he hadn't been given any leeway to move. 

"Who are you? Where am I?" Buck asked, even though he knew deep down he wasn't going to get an answer. 

Instead, a laugh. 

Then, footsteps. Coming closer. And closer. And closer. 

"Who are you?" Buck asked again, forcing his eyes to stay open, even though his body begged him to drift back off into darkness. 

"My name, is irrelevant. My story, however, is not. I have come to claim a debt. And you, Evan Buckley, are the price." 

Buck felt nauseous. Who the hell was this man? And what the hell had he done to deserve this? 

"I'm sure there has been some kind of mistake, I don't even know who you -"

"Four months ago, Eddie Diaz of fire station 118 killed Susanna Billings, my wife, the person I loved most in this world. I thought I'd return the favour."

Chapter Text

Five days, seven hours, thirteen minutes and four seconds.

That's how long it had been since Buck's phone had been shut off, according to the lead detective in charge of the case.

It had now been labelled as a missing person's case, though there were no suspects as of yet.

Eddie hadn’t left the hospital bed. Not by choice — if it was up to him, he would’ve left as soon as Chimney had told him about Buck.

No, the doctors had told him he had to stay in bed. 

Head laceration. Broken ribs. Concussion. Possible internal bleeding. 

All of it seemed minor, when Buck - his - Buck, was missing. 

No one had a clue where he was. No one knew if he was even —

He was. He had to be. Eddie would know if he wasn’t. He would feel it. 

“Eddie,” Chimney’s voice sounded from the door. “Visitor.”

Eddie lifted his head, and was met with another familiar face. 

“Athena,” he breathed out, forcing himself to sit up in bed. “You’re here.”

”Of course I’m here,” she spoke softly, walking towards his bed, sitting down in the chair beside him. 

“Have you come to —“

She nodded. “Eddie, I know you’ve talked to Colorado PD. And detectives. But can you talk me through everything you remember. Just — just in case you remember anything else. Even if you think it’s irrelevant, mention it.”

He nodded. 

Since waking up and initially not remembering anything, parts of that day had come back to him in chunks. 

“We left the motel, and I was driving. Buck had driven the night before, and at the motel his air conditioning wasn’t working, so he didn’t sleep very well. Everything was fine, and then he warned me that a blue sedan was trying to overtake us. I remember looking out of my mirror, seeing it, and then — nothing. Nothing until I woke up here, and — and they told me that there was no one else in the car,” Eddie explained, like he had done with everyone else who’d asked.

Athena just nodded, writing notes in her notepad. “Okay. Alright. Do you have any idea where Buck would go?” 

Eddie stared at her incredulously. “You think Buck willingly left me in that burning piece of shit?” 

Chimney looked between him and Athena. “Eddie, that’s not what she meant —“

”Isn’t it?” Eddie pressed. 

“Eddie, I’m just trying to —“

”I don’t feel well. I think I need to rest,” he said sharply, turning away from Athena. 

“Okay,” she spoke gently, and he heard her arise from the chair, listening as her footsteps grew distant, until the door to his room closed. 

It was only then that Eddie braved sitting back up, and took a deep breath. 

From his side, his phone buzzed. 

The number was unsaved, but the text — 

From: Unknown 

Four months ago, you killed my wife. I will never forget. And now, neither will you. 

[photo]

Eddie dropped his phone. 

Chapter Text

"Harvey Billings," Athena spoke, sitting down on the chair beside Eddie's bed. 

He was still in hospital, and likely would be for a while longer, thanks to the internal bleeding caused from the car crash, that he'd since learnt was intentional.

A ploy, Athena and the detectives had decided, helped by the text Buck's kidnapper - yes, that was what they were calling it now - had sent to Eddie. 

"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" Eddie asked, feeling irritated. 

Actually - irritated didn't even begin to cover what he was feeling. Insurmountable rage. Seething. Pure, undiluted fury. 

"Maybe not, but Susanna Billings might," Chimney said, stepping in. 

Recognition hit Eddie like a tidal wave. 

Murderer. 

Murderer. 

Murderer. 

"Oh my god," he whispered, his voice cracking. 

"What I don't understand," Chimney spoke, filling the void, almost as if to give Eddie a reprieve after the information had hit, "is why they targeted Buck, and not Chris. And that's not me saying I'd rather it was Chris - I am so fucking glad that kid is safe, but -"

"The text said -"

"I know what the text said," Eddie snapped, cutting Athena off. A pause. "Sorry. I just -"

She reached a hand out to touch his. "It's okay. You have nothing to apologise for."

A knock on the door revealed the two detectives from Colorado handling the case. "Do you mind?" the taller one asked. 

Eddie shook his head. "Come on in."

"I'm sure Sergeant Grant has informed you about our potential suspect?"

He nodded.

"Good. Obviously, we have our motive. In his head, you killed his wife - now, obviously we know that's not the case, but this man is deep in his grief, and -"

"He's a psychopath," Chimney muttered.

The detective glanced over at Chimney, and whilst Eddie couldn't see his face, it made Chimney shut up. 

"As I was saying. This sounds like revenge. In his eyes, you took away the person he loved the most, and in return -"

Chimney spluttered. 

Athena cleared her throat. 

And Eddie felt very fucking confused.

"In return...what?" Eddie asked, his voice low and rough, like every word scraped against broken glass on the way out. 

The detective shifted his weight. For a moment, the room felt too small - too full of people, too full of things Eddie didn't want to hear. 

"In return," he continued carefully, "he's trying to take away the person you love most."

The words hung in the air. 

Heavy. 

Wrong. 

Eddie frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."

Athena and Chimney exchanged a look. A quick one. The kind people thought you didn't notice. 

Eddie noticed. 

"Christopher's safe," Eddie said immediately, like he needed to say it out loud. "He's in LA, with Hen and Karen. If he wanted Chris -"

"He didn't," Chimney said quietly. 

Edie turned to him sharply. "What?"

Chimney rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking like he wished he was literally anywhere else. 

"The text he sent you," Athena said gently, "it alludes to revenge. He lost his wife, the person he loved most, so in return -"

"I know what the text meant," Eddie muttered. 

Athena nodded slowly. "Right. But then he sent the picture," she continued. 

Buck. 

Tied up. 

Bruised. 

Bleeding. 

Terrified. 

Edie swallowed. 

"The point is," Athena said softly, "he chose Buck."

Eddie blinked. "That doesn't mean anything. The guy is a psychopath!'

The detective tilted his head slightly. "It usually does."

Eddie scoffed, though the sound came out weak. "Buck's my partner. My best friend. We work together. That's it."

Neither Athena nor Chimney said anything. 

Which, honestly, was worse. 

"What?" Eddie demanded. 

Chimney shifted his weight. "Look, man -"

"No," Eddie said sharply. "Say it."

Chimney sighed, but it was the detective who talked. 

"The guy who took Buck? He's been watching you. That's pretty clear at this point. And if you're watching someone long enough, you start to notice things."

"What things?" Eddie asked hoarsely, as if he'd been oblivious to it this entire time. 

"The man who picks your son up from school sometimes," the detective said. "The one who lives ten minutes away. The one who's at your house more often than most family members."

Eddie didn't move. 

Suddenly, it came crashing back to him. 

There was a moment, during the crash - 

The headlights. 

Buck shouting his name. 

The sickening sound of metal hitting metal. 

The text. 

Four months ago you killed my wife. 

I will never forget. 

And now, neither will you. 

Eddie's stomach twisted. 

"He thinks..." Eddie swallowed hard. "He thinks Buck is the person I love the most."

Silence. 

Long. 

Heavy. 

Athena held his gaze. 

"Well," she said gently. 

Chimney let out a slow breath.

The detective glanced between them. 

Eddie felt his pulse hammering in his ears. 

"Well?" Eddie repeated, voice tight. 

Athena didn't look away. 

"...Is he wrong?"

Chapter Text

The first thing Buck noticed when he woke up was the cold. Not the normal kind. Instead, it was the kind that crept into your bones and stayed there.

Concrete. He'd been moved. He was lying on concrete, the floor rough against his cheek.

His wrists burned where the rope dug into them, pulled tight behind the back of the pillar he was tied to.

Buck groaned softly as consciousness settled in properly.

Bad idea. Pain exploded behind his eyes.

"Easy there."

The voice was calm. Too calm. 

Bucked forced his eyes to stay open. 

The room was dim, lit by a single hanging bulb that swayed slightly overhead. Every movement made the shadows shift across the walls. 

Basement, Buck thought immediately. 

Or a garage. 

Something like that. 

Across from him, leaning against a metal workbench, stood a man Buck didn't recognise - except for the voice. 

Mid-forties, maybe. 

Tall. Broad. Tired-looking eyes that somehow still managed to burn with something ugly. 

The man was watching him. Studying him. 

"Good," he said quietly. "I was starting to think I hit you too hard." 

Buck blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from his head. 

"Yeah," he rasped. "You did."

The man huffed with something that might have been a laugh. 

Buck tugged at the ropes instinctively. They didn't move. Of course they didn't. 

"Don't bother," the man said. "You're not going anywhere."

Buck flexed his fingers anyway, testing circulation. 

Firefighter brain. 

Assess first. Panic later. 

Wrists tied. 

Solid pillar. 

Leg - definitely broken. It would become infected soon, too. If left untreated. He doubted the man would let him attend to his leg. He doubted he was even going to make it out of here in one piece. 

No windows. One door. No obvious tools nearby. 

Great. 

"Where am I?" Buck asked. 

The man tilted his head. 

"You know," he said slowly, "for a dead man walking, you're a lot calmer than I expected."

Buck shrugged as much as the ropes allowed. 

"Shock," he said. Not entirely a lie. 

The man hummed, then steppe closer. 

Buck could see him properly now. 

Grief. 

That was the first thing Buck noticed. 

Not anger. Not cruelty. 

Grief. 

It clung to the man like smoke. 

"Four months ago," he said, voice shaking with rage, "Eddie Diaz killed my wife."

Buck shook his head immediately. He remembered that call. 

He remembered Eddie's shaking hands. He remembers pulling him away from the lifeless body. He remembered her husband's grief, his rage. 

And look how that had manifested. 

"No. He didn't."

Harvey's jaw clenched. 

"He was doing his job. He did everything he humanly could to save your wife."

His expression hardened. "Doesn't matter now," he said. 

Buck's stomach twisted, a feeling of dread seeping in. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He crouched in front of him, elbows resting casually on his knees.

"You know what the worst part of grief is?" he asked. 

Buck didn't answer. 

"You wake up every day," the man continued quietly, "and the person you love most in the world is still gone."

His eyes lifted to Buck's. 

"And the man responsible is still walking around."

Buck's chest tightened. 

"You're wrong about Eddie."

The man shook his head slowly. 

"No," he said. 

Then his gaze drifted over Buck's face. Studying. Calculating. 

"And now," he added softly, "he gets to feel what that's like."

Buck's stomach dropped. 

"So that's it?" Buck asked. "You kidnap me and suddenly we're even?"

The man smiled. A thin, broken thing. 

"No," he said. 

Buck frowned. 

"Now he gets to remember."

"Remember what?"

The man stood. The light swung slightly above them as he moved toward the door. 

"Four months ago," he said over his shoulder, "Eddie Diaz took the most important person in my life."

The door creaked open. He looked back at him. 

"And now," he finished quietly. "I've taken his."

The door slammed shut. 

And Buck was left alone in the cold. 

Chapter Text

Hospitals had a sound. Eddie had always known that. He'd spent a good chunk of his career in hospitals.

But as the paramedic. Not the patient. 

Now he was focused on the quiet hum of machines. The distant squeak of trolley wheels. Nurses' voices murmuring in the hallway. 

Tonight it all sounded wrong. 

Too loud. 

Too slow. 

Too calm. 

Eddie sat rigidly in the hospital bed, fingers digging into the thin blanket over his legs as the door closed behind the detectives. 

Athena was still there. 

So was Chimney. 

Eddie hadn't deigned to answer the question. 

"...Is he wrong?"

It seemed trivial to think about it when all his mind was doing was replaying the picture.

Buck. 

Bruised. 

Ropes around his wrists. 

Eyes wide in a way Eddie had never seen before. 

Eddie forced himself to breathe. 

In.

Out. 

In. 

Out.

Didn't work. 

"Okay," Eddie said suddenly. 

Both Athena and Chimney looked at him. 

"Okay," he repeated, sharper now. "So what are we doing?"

Athena frowned slightly. "Eddie -"

"What are you doing to find him?" Eddie pressed. "Phone tracking? Traffic cameras? Something had to pick up his car that hit us off the road."

"We're working on -"

"No," Eddie cut in. "Not working on it. Doing it."

Chimney shifted awkwardly. "Eddie -"

"Buck has been missing for days," Eddie snapped. 

His voice cracked on the last word. 

The room went quiet again. 

Athena's expression softened. "Eddie," she said gently, "we are doing everything we can."

"Well it's not good enough!"

The words came out before he could stop them. 

Chimney's eyebrows shot up slightly, but Athena - she didn't look offended. She just watched him. 

"Then tell us what you're thinking," she said. 

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, trying to force his brain into firefighter mode. Into a former Army medic's mode. Anything instead of panic mode. 

"Harvey Billings," he muttered. 

Athena listened. 

"He's not thinking straight," Eddie continued. "He's grieving. Obsessed. Which means this whole thing is emotional for him - right?"

"That tracks," Athena said. 

Eddie nodded quickly. "Which means he wants something."

"Revenge," Chimney offered. 

"No," Eddie retorted immediately. 

Both of them looked at him. 

"Revenge is quick," Eddie explained. "You hurt someone, you're done. But that text..." His jaw tightened. "That wasn't revenge."

Athena tilted her head. 

Chimney looked at him curiously. "What was it?"

Eddie swallowed. 

"Punishment."

Silence. 

"He said I'd never forget," Eddie continued quietly. "Which means he wants me to remember this. To live with it."

Chimney's face darkened slightly. 

"Jesus."

Athena folded her arms. "So he keeps Buck alive."

Eddie nodded. "For now."

The words tasted like acid. 

Chimney shifted closer to the bed. "Athena, if he's been watching Eddie like we think -"

"He has," Athena said. "We already confirmed that much."

"Then he knows the firehouse," Chimney said. "Knows the routine. Probably knew Buck lives alone, too."

Eddie's stomach turned. 

"He knows Buck matters," Eddie said quietly, realisation kicking in. 

Athena watched him carefully before agreeing. "Yes."

The words landed heavily. 

Chimney rubbed his face. "So, what's the plan?"

Athena was quiet for a moment. Thinking. Then, she turned toward the door, where two Colorado PD officers were stationed. 

"I need a list of every property Harvey Billings owns," she ordered. "Homes, rental units, storage spaces, anything."

She pulled her phone from her pocket. 

"And I want traffic cam footage from the last six days near the crash site."

Chimney made to stand up. "I'll call Hen."

Athena glanced back at the bed. 

"And you," she said to Eddie, "are staying right here."

Eddie laughed. A harsh, humourless sound. "Yeah," he said.

Athena's eyes narrowed slightly. "Eddie."

"You think I'm staying in this bed whilst Buck is out there with this psycho?" he asked.

"Yes," Athena said flatly. 

Eddie swung his legs over the side of the bed. Pain immediately shot through his body, concentrating around his ribs. He ignored it.

"Not happening."

"Diaz," Chimney warned. 

"Don't," Eddie snapped. 

He stood up. Bad idea. The room tilted slightly. Still didn't matter. 

Buck was -

Buck. 

He swayed, gripping onto the bed frame to prevent him from falling onto the floor. 

Athena crossed her arms. "You have internal bleeding."

"I've had worse."

"Your doctor will disagree."

"Good thing he's not in the room, then."

Chimney stared at him. "Eddie, you can barely stand."

In response, Eddie grabbed the IV pole and pulled it with him as he took another step. 

"I don't have to stand long," he said. 

"Eddie," Athena said again, slower this time, "if you collapse before we find Buck, you're useless to him."

That stopped him. For half a second. Eddie clenched his jaw. 

"You think I can sit here," he said hoarsely, "while he's out there, suffering through god knows what, because of me?"

Athena's voice softened when she spoke again. "This is not your fault."

"Yes it is." 

The words were immediate. 

Athena just stepped closer. "Listen to me, Eddie Diaz."

He forced himself to meet her eyes. 

"We are going to find him," she said. "And when we do, you're going to want to be able to healthy enough to see it happen."

Eddie's chest heaved. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a long moment, he didn't move. 

Then slowly...

Reluctantly...

He sat back down on the bed. 

But his hands were still shaking. 

And in the back of his mind, one thought kept repeating. 

Hold on, Buck. 

Just hold on. 

Chapter Text

The cold was worse when Buck woke up the second time. Before, the pain had been distant. Blurry. Something dulled by whatever he'd been given to knock him out.

Now it was sharp. Bright. Every nerve in his body felt like it had been plugged directly into a live wire. 

Buck sucked in a breath - and immediately regretted it. His ribs screamed. 

"Yeah," a voice said from somewhere to his right. "That'll happen."

Buck forced his eyes open. The bulb above him was still swinging slightly, casting slow, nauseating shadows across the concrete walls. 

He was there again. Leaning against the workbench like he'd never left. Watching him. 

"How long was I out? What day is it?" Buck rasped, despite knowing he probably wasn't going to get an answer. He was desperate to gather his bearings - to calm the insanity he felt slowly creeping in. 

The man didn't answer. Instead, he pushed himself off the bench and walked closer. 

Buck tensed automatically, bracing himself. Bad move. The shift of his weight sent a lightning bolt of pain through his left leg. 

White-hot. Blinding. 

Buck gasped, the sound ripping out of him before he could think about stopping it.

He stopped in front of him. 

"That bad?" he asked mildly. 

Buck clenched his jaw. His leg throbbed violently now, like his pulse had moved down into the bone. Something was very, very wrong. 

The man crouched slowly. "Let's take a look," was all he said. 

Buck instinctively tried to pull his leg back. The ropes around his ankles stopped him. 

He grabbed his boot. Hard. Buck's entire body went rigid. 

"Don't -"

He twisted his ankle. 

The scream tore out of Buck before he could stop it. Pain exploded up his leg, so intense it made his vision go black for a second. 

"Oh," he said quietly. He tilted his head Buck's leg slightly. The movement made Buck choke on another cry. "Yeah," he murmured. "That's definitely broken."

Buck's chest heaved as he tried to breathe through it. 

Inhale for five. 

Hold for three. 

Exhale for five. 

Every tiny movement sent fresh waves of agony shooting up his leg. 

"Please," Buck gasped. "Don't."

The man let go. 

Buck's foot dropped back to the concrete with a dull thud. 

The impact sent another bolt of pain through him and Buck doubled forward as far as the ropes allowed, forehead nearly hitting his knees. 

"Jesus," Buck breathed. His leg felt wrong. Too heavy. Too loose in places and too tight in others. 

He'd seen enough broken limbs on calls to know the feeling. The bone might not have broken through the skin, but it was close. 

The man stood again. "You should've seen your face," he said suddenly. 

Buck forced his head up, sweat already dripping down the side of his face, despite the cold. Not a good sign. "What?"

"After the crash," he spoke casually.

Buck frowned, trying to think through the haze of pain. 

Headlights. 

Metal crunching. 

Glass shattering. 

Then -

The man's voice cut through his thoughts, like a hot knife through butter. 

"You were barely conscious," he continued. "But you still kept trying to reach towards him."

Buck's stomach dropped. 

Eddie. 

His breathing grew heavier, then his eyes snapped up. 

The man watched him with something like amusement. 

"Yeah," he said softly. "You remember now."

Buck did. 

Fragments. 

Col air rushing in through the broken door. 

The taste of blood in his mouth. 

Trying to turn his head towards Eddie. 

Trying to make sure he was still alive. 

"Relax," the man continued mockingly. "He was still breathing. 

Buck sagged slightly in his position, relief mixing with dread, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

The man noticed. 

"Oh, don't worry," he added. "I made sure he stayed that way."

Buck frowned. "What?"

He smiled. "I left him as he was."

Buck stared at him. 

"I could've taken him," he said, shrugging. "Would've been easy. But that wouldn't have worked for me."

Buck's pulse hammered in his ears. 

"See," he continued, stepping closer again, "this isn't about killing Eddie."

He crouched in front of Buck. 

"This is about making him remember."

The man tilted his head slightly. "You know what the first thing he did when he woke up?" he asked. 

Buck didn't answer. 

"He tried to get out of the car," he spoke. "Broken ribs, bleeding everywhere, and he still tried to crawl after you."

Buck closed his eyes briefly. 

Yeah. 

That sounded like Eddie. 

He leaned closer. "I almost stayed to watch," he said quietly.

Buck's jaw tightened. 

"But I figured," he continued, "it'd be more interesting if he had to imagine what I was doing to you."

Buck forced himself to hold his gaze. 

"You're insane."

He didn't react. Instead, he stood and walked back to the workbench. "You know what the worst part for him will be?"

Buck isn't answer. 

His captor picked something up. Metal scraped lightly against concrete as he turned back. A crowbar hung loosely in his hand.

Buck's pulse spiked.

"The not knowing," he continued calmly. "Is he alive? Is he hurt? Is he begging for help?"

He tapped the crowbar lightly against the floor, clanging as it went. 

The sound echoed throughout the room. 

Buck forced his breathing to stay steady. 

He stepped closer. 

"He's lying in a hospital bed right now," he said quietly, "thinking about you."

Buck swallowed. 

"And the longer it takes them to find you," Harvey added, lifting the crowbar slightly, "the worse that feeling gets."

Buck's gaze dropped involuntarily to his own leg. 

"Oh," he said softly. "You know where this is going."

Buck's voice came out hoarse - broken. 

"You already broke it," he spoke, trying - but failing - to keep his voice calm, steady. 

His captor shrugged. That was the crash." He raised the crowbar higher. "This," he said calmly, "is the message."

Buck's heart slammed against his ribs. "Wait "

The crowbar came down. 

The sound Buck made didn't even sound human. Pain exploded through his leg as metal connects with bone. 

He tipped sideways as his body convulsed, ropes tearing into his wrists as he thrashed helplessly. 

His scream echoed off the concrete walls. 

His captor stepped back, breathing steadily. 

His leg was wrong now. Completely wrong. Even through the haze of agony...Buck knew it. 

The man crouched beside him again. 

"You know what the best part is?" he said quietly. 

Buck could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. 

"When Eddie finally sees you like this..."

His voice dropped to a whisper. 

"He'll know it's his fault."

Buck squeezed his eyes shut, tears mixing with sweat as another wave of pain rolled through him. 

Somewhere outside the building, faint and distant, a car drove past. 

Buck focused on the sound. 

On the tiny reminder that the world still existed beyond this room. 

Hold on. 

The thought surfaced weakly through the pain. 

Just hold on. 

Because somewhere out there - 

Eddie was still alive. 

Chapter Text

Eddie was in blinding pain.

He'd been an Army medic before, fighting in countries where he'd seen the worst of humanity. 

He'd nearly been buried alive at a call a few years ago. 

He'd been shot in the chest. 

And yet, this pain - this was different. 

He opened his eyes - barely, and through strenuous effort - and there was blood everywhere. 

His, presumably. And Buck - 

Buck. 

He twisted his head towards the passenger seat, only to be met with nothing. No trace of his - of Buck. 

"Buck," he moaned, his hand reaching out, hoping, praying that his eyes were playing tricks on him. They had to be. 

No answer. No sound, except for the hisses and grunts of pain leaving Eddie's mouth. 

Maybe he'd been ejected from the car - what if he was - 

Despite being barely able to move, Eddie grabbed onto a piece of twisted metal and heaved. Trying, willing his body to move to search for Buck. 

What if he had catastrophic injuries? What if he was bleeding out? 

"Buck," he called out again, blinking away tears that clouded his vision. "I can't lose you, too."

And then everything went black. 

Eddie woke up with a jolt. 

Chimney, who was still sat next to him, noticed and sat up, eyes wide with concern. 

"I woke up - after the crash, and he was already gone," Eddie blurted out, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I couldn't move, but Buck was already gone."

Chimney's gaze softened. "Eddie, the state the paramedics found you in...you weren't able to move. There was nothing you could've done," he said quietly. 

Eddie stared off ahead of him, deliberately focusing in on a speck of dirt on the wall, allowing himself to just - feel. Feel the heavy, pressing weight of his emotions for a moment. 

Then - "How's Chris?" 

Chimney looked relieved at the change of subject. "He's okay. Hen says he's worried about you, obviously. And Buck. He wants to fly over, when Maddie does, but -"

"I don't want him anywhere near this psychopath," Eddie said suddenly. 

Chimney nodded. "I thought as much. Hen and Karen will look after him, Eddie. He'll be okay."

Eddie gulped, then nodded his head. "I should probably give him a call. Let him seem face to face," he decided. 

Chimney nodded his head once again, handing Eddie his phone. 

He turned it on, then - balked. Face paling, he clicked on the notification on the Home Screen. 

From: Unknown 

Poor firefighter Buckley. Looks like he won't be returning to active duty anytime soon - if ever. 

[photo]

Eddie vomited. For on the screen, was a photo of Buck, unconscious, with his leg - 

"Holy shit," Chimney breathed, his face turning white, too, then yelled - "Athena!"

Mere seconds later, Athena rushed into the room, her eyes wide in panic, heading straight towards the bed, taking the phone from Eddie's fingers. 

"Oh, Buck," was all she whispered, and Eddie could've sworn he heard her voice crack. 

Athena's grip tightened around the phone, and for a moment, the room went completely still. 

Eddie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest still heaving from being sick, but his eyes were locked on Athena's face - searching it, desperate to read something in her expression. 

Hope. 

A lead. 

Anything.

Instead, Athena swallowed hard. 

Eddie had only seen it for a second. One second before his stomach had revolted. But it was burned into his brain. Etched into his heart. 

Buck.

Slumped. Wrists bound. Blood streaking down the side of his face. But his leg - 

Eddie's stomach turned again. 

"No," he whispered. 

Athena looked at him. "He's alive," she said firmly. 

Eddie forced himself to breathe. 

"He wouldn't send that photo if Buck was dead," she continued. "This man wants you to see the damage. He wants you to suffer."

Eddie let out a humourless laugh. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I got that."

Athena ignored the comment and zoomed in on the photo. 

"Chim, come here."

Chimney leaned in closer. "What are we looking for?" he asked. 

"Anything."

She dragged the image slowly across the screen. 

Concrete floor. A single hanging bulb. A metal workbench. Tools scattered across the surface. Chimney frowned. 

"Looks like a garage."

"Or a workshop," Athena offered. 

Eddie forced himself to look again. He didn't want to. Every instinct in him screamed not to look at Buck like that. But he couldn't stop. Buck's head was slumped forward, hair darkened with sweat and blood. His face was bruised already, swelling around one eye. 

He looked - 

Small. 

Smaller than Eddie had ever seen him. 

And his leg - 

Eddie's breath caught. Bent wrong. So wrong his brain struggled to process it. 

A firefighter's brain catalogued images automatically. It had been drilled into him in the Army long before the 118. 

Fracture. 

Possibly multiple. 

Severe trauma. 

Buck must be in unimaginable pain. The thought made Eddie's chest tighten.

Because Buck hated hospitals. 

Buck hated being helpless. 

Buck -

Eddie stopped himself. He forced his gaze away from the leg and back to Buck's face. To the way his head tilted slightly to one side. The way his cheeks were slightly flush -

A strange warmth spread through Eddie's chest at the realisation. 

Relief. 

So sharp it almost hurt. 

Buck was still alive. 

The truth hit him all at once. 

If that photo had been different - 

If Buck hadn't been breathing -

Eddie didn't know what he would have done. 

And that realisation settled somewhere deep inside of him, heavy and undeniable. 

"Eddie."

Athena's voice pulled him back. He looked up. 

"You okay?" she asked. 

No. 

Not even remotely. 

But Eddie nodded anyway. 

His eyes drifted back to the phone. 

Back to Buck. 

To the rope around his wrists. 

To the blood on his temple. 

To the leg that looked like it had been -

Eddie's hands clenched in the hospital blanket. 

Buck had been in the car with him.

Buck had been hurt because he'd been sitting in the passenger seat beside Eddie. 

Because Buck had insisted that they'd travelled together. 

Because Buck always insisted. 

Always showed up. 

Always stayed. 

Even when Eddie pushed. 

Even when Eddie shut down. 

Even when Eddie didn't deserve it.

Realisation covered him like a blanket. 

Buck had been there for everything. 

Shannon. 

The shooting. 

The well collapse. 

Christopher. 

Buck had been there for Chris like -

Eddie's throat tightened. 

Like family. 

Like more than family, sometimes. 

And now Buck was tied up, bleeding and broken because of him. 

Eddie swallowed hard. 

Athena zoomed further into the image. 

"Wait," she murmured. 

Chimney leaned closer. 

"What?"

"Look behind him."

The workbench. 

Tools. 

A vice. 

And something hanging crookedly on the wall behind Buck. 

Athena squinted. 

"Is that a sign?"

Eddie leaned forward slightly despite the pain shooting through his ribs. 

The sign was faded. 

Half in shadow. 

But the letters were still visible. 

- TON AUTO 

Chimney blinked. "Is that a garage?" 

Athena's expression looked deep in thought, as if her mind was already racing with ideas. 

"Not just any garage." She straightened immediately, then waved to the two PD officers outside the door. 

"Call dispatch. I want every auto shop, mechanic, storage garage - anything within twenty miles."

"On it," the elder one replied, stepping back into the hallway, already dialling. 

Athena turned back to Eddie. 

He was staring at the photo again. Not blinking. 

"Eddie."

He didn't respond. Couldn't. 

"Eddie."

Slowly, he looked up. 

Athena had seen that look before. 

Controlled. 

Focused. 

Dangerous. 

"You were right," Eddie said quietly. 

"About what?"

"He wants me to see it."

Athena nodded. "Yes."

Eddie looked back at the phone. Back at Buck. Broken. Bleeding. But still breathing. 

Something inside Eddie shifted. 

Not panic. Not grief. Something deeper. Something terrifyingly certain. Because the thought came uninvited. Clear as day. 

I can't lose him. 

Not Buck. 

Not the man who had built a place in Eddie's life so quietly that Eddie hadn't even realised how permanent it had become. 

Not the man Christopher adored. 

Not the man who showed up at his door with groceries and terrible jokes and that stupid, hopeful smile. 

Not Buck. 

Eddie's jaw tightened. 

"He broke Buck's leg," he said quietly. 

Athena didn't sugarcoat it. "Yes."

Eddie nodded slowly. His chest rose and fell once. Then, he looked up again. And when he spoke this time, his voice was completely steady. 

"When you find him," Eddie said, "I'm coming with you."

Athena studied him, Chimney, too.

"You're not cleared to leave this hospital."

"I don't care."

He usually wouldn't dare to talk to Athena in such a way, but this was different. 

"Eddie -"

"I. Don't. Care," he repeated. 

Athena held his gaze for a long moment. 

"We'll deal with that later," she said finally. 

But Eddie had already resumed staring back at his phone. At Buck. 

And the thought that had begun forming in his chest wouldn't go away now. 

It was quiet. 

Terrifying. 

But completely undeniable. 

Because seeing Buck like that hurt in a way Eddie couldn't explain. 

A way that went deeper than guilt. Deeper than responsibility. Deeper than friendship. 

And Eddie didn't have a name for that feeling yet. 

He only knew one thing. 

Hold on, Buck. 

Because Eddie Diaz was coming for him. 

"Sarg!" A call from outside the hospital room alerted all three friends within. 

He heard Athena's reply to the officer. 

Then she was coming to his side, a small smile on her face. 

"They've found a match for the sign in the photo. I'm heading there now."

Chapter Text

A clang of metal next to him had Buck awaking with a start. 

The metal crowbar that had been used to - well, further shatter his leg, now lay on the floor next to his face, inches away from cracking his skull. 

"Afternoon," the stranger spoke. "Or is it morning? I guess you'll never know," he spoke sinisterly. 

Buck focused on the crowbar, noticing the dried blood on one end, and didn't bother looking down at his leg. 

He couldn't even feel the pain anymore. Somewhere, deep down, he knew that was bad. But he wasn't sure he had the strength to care anymore. 

Then - a flash of light. Buck squinted - was that...a window?

No, he was sure he would've noticed a window when he first surveyed the room. 

One door. 

No windows. 

And yet...he could see a road in the distance. It wasn't a large view, just big enough for him to see -

"Any moment now," the man mused, taking a seat to the left of Buck, as if he too, was waiting. 

And then Buck heard it. The sound of sirens. Multiple. 

It was like a flash. Hurtling down the road, were seven cop cars, all of their lights flashing, sirens blaring. 

His heart hammered in his chest, hope began to bloom, and then - 

"Honestly, I'm surprised they took the bait this quickly," his captor laughed, stalking towards the window, hammering the wooden slabs back together, sealing him back into this cage, this prison, cutting him off from the world around him. "Especially considering Athena Grant is now on the case, too."

Buck froze, breath catching in his throat. 

He laughs, noticing the shift in Buck's demeanour. 

"Oh, yes. Sergeant Grant is at the hospital. As is your captain - or should I say, brother in law."

Buck thought about Maddie. About Jee-Yun. Nash. Wondering if he'd ever see them again. 

Surely, she had to know by now. Buck wasn't sure what day it was. Wasn't sure about anything anymore. If he had to guess, he'd say it had been longer than three days, but less than a week. But who knew - he'd been in and out of consciousness so much that his mind could be playing tricks on him. 

"Tell me one thing," Buck rasped. "Why me? You - you keep saying it's to punish Eddie. But why me?" Buck asked, each word a struggle to form. Everything was a struggle, now. Even breathing. 

"You know, I watched Eddie for weeks. Months, even," the man started, still too by the makeshift window. "And then, by chance, I started watching, you, too."

Anything retort Buck was going to muster up died in his throat. 

"Evan Buckley, co-worker of Eddie Diaz - though, you're both kidding yourselves."

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. He said nothing, but his heart started to race. 

What on earth was this maniac talking about?

"I can almost hear your thoughts," he laughed. "You spent so much time at his house, with his son, Christopher, that I'm surprised you even bother paying rent at your other place," he spoke dryly, lingering on Christopher's name. 

Buck's fists clenched, even whilst bound. "If you hurt that kid -"

The man picked up the crowbar, silencing Buck at once. "I'm not focused on his kid. I'm focused on you, Evan. Because I think, more than anything, your absence from his life will change his life more than anything else."

"Y - you're insane. Eddie and I are friends - good friends, but -"

- but - 

The words stuck in his throat. Buck swallowed, his throat dry and raw. he was seriously dehydrated by now, and had only had tiny droplets of water from his captor when he'd passed out.

He stared at Buck with a quiet kin of amusement. "Go on," he encouraged softly. "Finish that sentence."

Buck gritted his teeth, and forced the rest out. "But that's it."

His smile widened ever so slightly. "Is it, though?"

Buck's chest rose and fell unevenly. Each breath scraped against his ribs like sandpaper. He didn't dare look down at his leg again - the last time he had, the sight of it had made him feel so violently sick he'd almost blacked out. So, he focused on the man inside. Focused on staying conscious. "Yes."

The captor tilted his head, studying him like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Interesting." He started pacing slowly again, the crowbar hanging loosely from one hand, hitting the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet room. 

Clang. 

Clang. 

Clang. 

Buck's eyes followed the movement automatically, his body trying to keep him on high alert for the next assault. 

The man stopped a few feet away. 

"You pick Christopher up from school sometimes," he said casually. 

Buck stiffened. The mention of Chris cut through the fog instantly. 

"You fix things around the house," Harvey continued. "You stay for dinner."

Buck's jaw clenched. Images flashed through his mind without permission. 

Christopher laughing on the couch during movie night. 

Eddie standing in the kitchen arguing about pizza toppings. 

The warm glow of the Diaz house lights at night - nights he'd spent there. 

Home. 

"You take the kid to the park," he said. "Help him with homework. Video games. Movie nights."

Buck stared at the floor, his vision blurring slightly. 

"You're practically living there."

Buck forced himself to look up. "That's what friends do," he said. 

The words sounded weal. Even he knew it. 

The man laughed quietly. "You really believe that?"

Buck's heart was starting to beat too fast again. The man crouched down in front of him again. 

"You know what I saw?" he asked. 

Buck said nothing. Couldn't. 

"I saw a man who built his entire life around someone else's family."

The words hit harder than Buck had expected them to. Because part of him knew exactly what he had meant. Buck had never planned it. It had just...happened. 

Christopher asking if he could stay for dinner. 

Eddie handing him a spare key 'just in case'. 

Buck never feeling as if he had to compete for their attention. Or affection. It was a sense of belonging he'd never felt - not in his own family growing up. 

"You love that kid like he's yours," he continued. 

Buck's chest tightened painfully. Christopher's smile flashed through his mind. 

"Buck, you're staying for movie night, right?"

"You're the best, Buck."

"You're family."

Buck's fists clenched once again against the ropes. 

"And Eddie lets you," he added. 

Buck's voice came out rough - all thoughts of a rational nature leaving his mind, his body. His resolve had been torn to shreds. 

"Christopher lost his mom."

The man - the psycho-maniac - shrugged. Bastard. "And you filled the gap."

Buck shook his head. "No - I - I didn't replace anyone."

"No," he spoke calmly. "You just became irreplaceable."

The words lodged somewhere deep in Buck's chest. 

Irreplaceable.

Buck had spent most of his life feeling like the opposite. Like the person people forgot about when they didn't need him anymore. But Eddie had never made him feel that way. Christopher had never made him feel that way. 

Buck swallowed hard. 

The man leaned closer. "Which means if something happens to you..." His eyes gleamed with something dark. "Eddie loses more than a coworker. More than a friend."

Buck shook his head weakly. "You're wrong."

He studied him for a moment, then smiled again. "Tell me, Evan. Why was it your last relationship ended?" 

Buck froze. There was no way this man - this person, knew about his history. He'd only told friends about how things had ended with Tommy - and he hadn't even told Eddie. 

No, only - Maddie, Hen, Ravi - 

There had been one night, at a bar downtown, where he'd been in a karaoke room, after things had ended with Tommy, telling anyone who would listen about -

"Finally pieced it together?" he asked, waiting, like a snake waiting to strike. 

"You were there?" Buck asked, not able to shake the fear that laced his voice. 

"Even your ex-boyfriend was aware of your feelings for Eddie. Even if you weren't."

The room went quiet, as something unsettling wormed its way through Buck's body. 

"My wife was everything to me," he spoke after a moment. His voice had gone flat. "She was my whole life." His eyes darkened. "And Eddie took her away from me."

Buck forced himself to speak. "It was an accident. A horrible - terrible accident. And he tried everything he could to save her."

He ignored him. 

"So now, as I've mentioned before, I'm taking the person who matters most to him."

Buck shook his head, his mind clawing for some mental resolve against this man. 

Fight back, his mind demanded. 

"You're wrong."

His captor's gaze sharpened, the grip on the crowbar tightening. Buck braced. 

"Am I?" 

Buck met his eyes, unwavering. "Yes."

He waited. Buck swallowed painfully. 

"Eddie's stronger than that."

The man just chuckled. "Oh, I know he is."

Buck frowned. 

"That's why this will hurt him even more."

Buck's heart thudded painfully. 

"You see, Evan..." His voice dropped to something almost gentle. "I don't think Eddie has any idea how much he loves you."

Buck's breath caught. The words landed somewhere deep in his chest - confusing and painful and strangely heavy. Because the thought flickered through his mind before he could stop it. 

What if he does? 

Buck shoved the idea away immediately. 

Eddie did love him. 

Of course he did. 

But not like that. 

No - Eddie - Eddie didn't even like men. 

Right?

But - 

But if he did - 

No. 

This was some trick, something to tantalise Buck, to send him even further into insanity. And he wouldn't fall for it. 

"When you're gone..." Buck's stomach twisted. "...he's going to figure it out. Of course, by then - it'll be too late."

Chapter Text

"This is ridiculous. I should be there," Eddie muttered, looking out of the window. 

Chimney sighed. "I know how you're feeling, Eddie, but -"

Eddie snapped his gaze towards Chimney. "No, Chim, you don't. Buck was taken because of me. And that's not even me guilt tripping, that's just a fact. Harvey has quite literally confirmed that. And now, I'm stuck here, whilst everyone else gets to go play hero. So, no. You don't know how I'm feeling."

Chimney said no more, and the room was swallowed up into silence once again. 

A few moments later - although it could've been longer, Eddie wasn't sure without his phone to tell the time - Chimney's phone rang. 

"It's Maddie. She's here - I'm going to go and meet here. Are you going to be okay by yourself here for a few minutes?" Chimney asked, leaving his position on the chair. 

Eddie grunted a response. That was all he could manage. He was miserable, here. And yet he was surrounded by people he knew. Loved. 

He couldn't say the same for Buck. 

The thought of his name had Eddie sitting up in bed, assessing how much pain he was in, and where. 

To hell with it all, he thought, as he ripped the IV out, pulling out anything else attached to him, before swinging his legs round, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

A slight dizzy sway, but then he was okay. As it turned out, a few days in bed had allowed most of his body to heal. 

He'd live. 

He couldn't say the same for Buck.

Buck. 

Buck. 

He made a beeline for the bathroom, finding his clothes in the suitcase he'd taken to Nashville, and after a brief struggle with his trousers, he was changed, his hospital gown discarded on the floor in a heap. He made sure to grab his wallet, stuffing it into his pocket. 

He must've pulled a stitch, because there was now blood spilling onto the floor in drops as he walked across the room, causing a stain to appear on his shirt.

He cursed under his breath, and held his hand against the bleeding, hoping to staunch the wound.

He checked the door. The officers were gone - presumably with everyone else. He thanked his lucky stars, before leaving the hospital room.

Keeping his head down, he made his way through the unfamiliar layout of the hospital, weaving in and out of doctors, nurses and patients, hoping none of them would recognise him.

He had just about made it out of the hospital, when the two officers that had been stationed outside of his room strolled through the lobby.

Lunch break.

Athena was going to have their badges for leaving his room unattended. He almost felt bad, but then the image of Buck floated into his head again, and any feelings of guilt disappeared in nanoseconds.

He was waiting for them to leave, until they started talking which piqued Eddie's interest.

" - can't believe we didn't even get to go. Stuck here on babysitting duty instead," the younger one spoke, chomping on his donut, coffee in the other hand.

"Be glad of it. Wilton Auto is a trek away, and it's scorching outside. At least in here, there's air con,"he laughed, and then they disappeared round the corner, their voices vanishing with them.

Edie could've smiled.

Wilton Auto.

Now he had a destination. And no one was going to stop him from getting to Buck. Nothing, and no one.

He managed to hail a taxi, clambering inside and melting into the seat, trying to control his ragged breathing. 

"Sir - are you alright?" the driver asked, checking him in the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah," he lied. "Just been released after surgery," he spoke, continuing the ruse. 

"Ah, I see. Where am I taking ya?"

"Wilton Auto," he blurted out. "Have to pick up my car," he lied, although unsure of why he continued speaking. He was digging a hole. 

The man in the front seat said nothing, though, and started to pull out of the hospital car park. 

Eddie looked out of the window, heart hammering out his chest. 

He hadn't thought this through properly - what was he going to do when he got there?

No, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he got to Buck in time. He'd figure the rest out later. 

They would figure it out, together. 

That was all that mattered. 

That they were together again - in whatever capacity both of their hearts would allow. 

Thirty minutes later, or maybe longer, the car started to slow down.

"Are we there?" Eddie asked, sitting up straight. 

"Uh - no, but - I can't go any further. There are police everywhere. It's blocked off," the taxi driver said, but Eddie waited no longer. He pulled out a wad of cash, not waiting for a reply before jumping out of the car, slamming the door. 

He ran. 

At least, he thought he was running. 

It was like he wasn't in control of his own body. 

Buck's name chorused throughout his body, chanting. 

His heartbeat drummed in his head, louder than anything he'd ever heard before. 

I'm coming, Buck. 

I'm coming. 

He ignored the shouts of officers who were scattered around the property. 

And then he saw it - the blue sedan. The front was contorted, broken. From where it had ploughed into Bucks car, and - 

"Sir, you can't be here -" one tried to tell him, and he vaguely felt a hand on his arm, but he pushed it off, returning to a sprint as he headed for the door. 

He must've knocked away at least three officers battling his way into the building. 

And then - in front of a crowd of at least eight police officers - both of the detectives, and Athena - was the message. 

On the wall - 

BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME 

Written in blood. 

Eddie didn't have to guess whose blood it was. 

"Where is he." he demanded, attracting the attention of every single police officer in the building. 

"Mr Diaz -" one of the detectives starts. "You can't be here -"

Another officer went to touch him, but -

"Don't fucking touch me," he spoke lowly, his voice dripping with something dangerous. 

"Can you give us the room, please?" Athena requested, and whilst she was not from this department, her rank, her authority - nobody questioned her. 

Soon, it was just her, Eddie and Buck's blood on the wall. 

Eddie's knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, all of his earlier adrenaline wearing away, the pain settling back in. 

"He's not here, is he?" Eddie asked, tears pricking at his eyes. 

"No," Athena said softly. He knew the lecture would come later, but right now - she was here. 

"Was he - was he ever here?" 

Athena paused, before shaking her head. "It's unlikely. We think Harvey sent us on - deliberately."

A sob left Eddie's mouth. It felt dragged up from somewhere deep inside, raw and jagged and unfamiliar. For a moment, he couldn't breathe.

His vision blurred as he stared at the words on the wall, the dark streaks of blood dripping slowly down the concrete.

Buck's blood. 

There was no doubt about it. 

He knew the rules of the game Harvey was playing by now. 

Athena didn't move right away. She let him have the moment. Let the reality settle. 

Eddie dragged a shaky hand over his face, smearing sweat and tears across his skin. His ribs screamed when he tried to straighten up, the torn stitches pulling painfully in his side. But the physical pain barely registered. 

Because Buck was still gone. Still alone. 

Somewhere out there with a man who clearly enjoyed hurting him. 

Eddie forced himself to stand. The movement made the room tilt, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. 

Athena watched him carefully. 

"You shouldn't be on your feet," she said quietly. 

Eddie didn't respond. Instead, he turned slowly, scanning the room around them. The place smelled like oil and rust. Old tires were stacked in one corner. A battered metal toolbox lay open on a workbench. but there was something else too. The faint metallic smell that hung in the air. 

Blood. 

Eddie's eyes drifted to the floor. And there it was. Small, dark droplets scattered across the concrete. 

A trail. 

His heart lurched. 

"Here," he whispered. 

Athene stepped closer.

"What?"

Eddie pointed. 

"Blood."

She crouched immediately, examining the floor. 

The droplets were spaced unevenly, trailing toward the back of the garage. Toward a side door. 

Athena's jaw tightened. 

"He was here," Eddie said, his voice rough with certainty. 

"Maybe," Athena spoke, though she didn't share his certainty. 

Eddie shook his head. "No." His cheat tightened painfully. "He was here."

He could picture it too easily. Buck tied to a chair. Harvey standing over him. Buck trying to hold on. 

Eddie followed the trail a few more steps before Athena caught his arm. 

"Stop."

Eddie froze. 

"You're bleeding," was all she said. 

He glanced down. The dark stain on his shirt had grown. Blood was dripping steadily from beneath his hand where he'd been pressing against his side. He barely felt it. 

"Doesn't matter," he muttered. 

"It matters if you pass out before we find him."

Eddie didn't answer. Athena stood slowly. Her eyes, piercing, moved across the room again, sharp and calculating. 

"This was a message," she said finally. 

Eddie's jaw tightened. "I figured that part out by myself."

Athena, thankfully, ignored the tone. 

"He wanted us to find this place," she continued. "He carefully constructed it, he's only sending you pictures that he wants us to see. He's manipulative, and he's clever. He wanted us to think that Buck was here."

Eddie's gaze flicked back to the wall. 

The blood. 

The words. 

"Then he left that because he wanted me to see it. He - he knew I'd come. He counted on it."

Eddie felt something twist painfully in his chest. 

Of course he did. Harvey had made that clear from the beginning. This was punishment. Not just for Eddie's body. For his mind. For his heart. His soul. 

Eddie wasn't sure how long he'd spent on the floor, staring up at the wall. It could've been hours. To be completely honest, he'd lost track of time ever since he'd first spotted the blood on the wall. 

He couldn't move. Not that he wanted to, either. 

After a while, officers began to filter back in, taking photos, collecting evidence. 

Athena didn't leave his side. Not even as people came over to talk to her, ask her questions. She still stayed, acting as a constant for someone whose person had been ripped away from him.

"We all have a personal stake in this," she spoke quietly, after a while. It wasn't Sergeant Grant speaking anymore. No - it was Athena. Mom to May and Harry. Wife - widow, of Bobby Nash. 

Eddie remained silent. 

"He was like a son to Bobby. He's like a son to me," she pressed on. "I promise Bobby I'd take care of him. Of all of you. I don't break my promises, Eddie. I'll find him. Even if it's the last thing I ever do."

Chapter Text

"The famous Evan Buckley, scared to do a backflip?" Eddie teased, leaning against the kitchen counter, taking a swig of his beer. 

"I'm thirty-four. I'm old. What if I pull something - or worse, paralyse myself," Buck groaned, the mental block hitting him hard. 

"Thirty-four is not old! You're still sixteen years away from being fifty. You have plenty of time," Eddie encouraged. 

"Would you be doing a backflip?" Buck retorted, throwing it back onto his friend. 

"No, but that's beside the point. You're notorious for them. What happened to - oh, what was it? Buckflips!" Eddie laughed, enjoying poking fun at him. 

Buck blushed slightly. "It wasn't me who came up with that."

"No, you're right. It was the tens of women who bet eight thousand dollars on you at an auction. Anyway - what I'm saying is, the only person stopping you from doing it is yourself. Get over that mental block, you'll be fine," Eddie spoke encouragingly. 

"Y'know, if you ever decide to retire early, you'd make a great life coach," Buck teased back. 

Eddie threw his hands up. "No offence, but I'm not sure I could life coach you. You've been through more in your thirty four years of being alive than most people ever will in their life," Eddie spoke. 

Buck nodded. "True. I'm a walking poster-child for traumatic life experiences. Hey - maybe I should become a life coach."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Come on, Buck. Do the backflip. Or - will it make you feel better if I called it a buckflip?" 

Buck stuck his middle finger up at him, getting a look back from Eddie. He hadn't attempted a back flip in a while. He wasn't one hundred percent sure he could even do one anymore. That was why he'd come on over to Eddie's place. For a pep talk. And - well, the beer certainly helped, too. Liquid confidence. 

Buck braced himself. He could do it. He could do anything he put his mind to. If he tried. 

He planted his feet, then bent down, and then -

Buck awoke with a sense of clarity. 

"Harvey," he murmured, the room empty. "Harvey Billings," he spoke again, licking his lips with the hope that he could help how chapped they had become. He couldn't remember the last time Harvey had allowed him to have water. Surely not today. 

The door kicked open. Buck whipped his head in that direction. All he could see beyond the figure approaching him was a set of stairs. So, he had to be in a basement, then. 

He savoured the information, locking it away in his head, then focusing on the situation in front of him. Compartmentalising. 

And then, perhaps due to the lack of socialisation, or maybe the memory of him and Eddie - or maybe just because Buck was a little fucking crazy - 

"Hello, Harvey. Fancy seeing you here," he drawled, smiling through the never-ending pain. 

Maybe it was time Buck matched Harvey's level of mania. 

Harvey blinked in surprise, but then his gaze settled. Buck could tell he was unnerved. Could practically smell it on him. Good. It was about time the roles reversed. 

"Caught up finally, have you?" Harvey asked, settling into the chair across from him. "About time, I suppose."

"You'll have to forgive me," Buck got out. "Minor inconvenience had me prioritising other things," he said dryly, maintaining eye contact. 

Harvey laughed. "I wondered when this side of you would arrive. Now this, is the Evan Buckley I'd watched the last few weeks," Harvey said with a grin. 

Nerves crept through Buck's body, but he forced the smile to stay on his face. To not allow Harvey to sense his fear. On the surface, he'd remain defiant. He'd escape this - he had to. But if, by fate, he didn't - then he was going to antagonise Harvey until his last breath. 

Harvey leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. Buck was worried that he did. He acted like this was a conversation between acquaintances. Not a man tied up with a shattered leg and another man who had done it to him. 

"You're interesting, Evan," Harvey said after a moment. 

Buck tilted his head slightly. 

"Most people would be begging by now."

Buck huffed out something that might've been classed as a laugh. "Trust me," he said, his voice rough and ragged from dehydration, "I considered it." His throat burned with every word. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and the dryness in the back of his throat had long since turned into something painful. But he kept talking anyway. Talking meant thinking. Thinking meant staying conscious. And staying conscious meant surviving. 

"Then why didn't you?" Harvey asked, studying him. 

Buck shrugged - or at least, he tried to. The ropes dug deeper into his wrists when he shifted. "Didn't seem like your style."

Harvey smiled faintly at that. "You think you know my style?"

Buck met his eyes. "I think you like control," he said simply. Harvey's eyebrows lifted slightly. Buck pressed on before the man could interrupt him. "You like the game," Buck continue. "The waiting. The watching. The part where you make people realise they're powerless."

Harvey didn't move. But something in his expression changed. 

"And begging," Buck added hoarsely, "takes the fun out of that."

Silence stretched between them. The single hanging bulb above Buck's head swayed slightly, and he focused his attention to that, a brief reprieve from staring at Harvey. 

Speaking of, the man tapped his fingers against his knee. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Then he chuckled softly. "You're smarter than I expected."

Buck's lips twitched. "I get that a lot. But hey - give me some credit. Don't sound so surprised."

Harvey leaned toward slightly. It took everything in Buck not to flinch. 

"I'm not," he said. "In fact, this is exactly the version of you I expected eventually."

Buck frowned slightly. "Oh?" He hated how surprised his tone sounded. 

Harvey gestured vaguely toward him. "The firefighter," he said. "The one who runs into burning buildings and convinces people not to jump off bridges. The one who kept his best friend's son safe during a tsunami. The one who commandeered a helicopter to save his late captain."

Buck nearly growled at the mention of Bobby. "You've been doing your homework."

Harvey smiled again. "I told you. I watched you."

Buck forced himself not to react to that. Instead, he leaned back, pretending the movement didn't send sparks of pain shooting to every crevice of his body. 

"So what," Buck said. "You stalked me - and Eddie, for a few weeks?"

Harvey's smile faded slightly. "Months."

Buck blinked. Harvey tilted his head. 

"I watched you for months."

Buck's stomach twisted. "That's...not better."

Harvey ignored the comment. And the tone. 

"You're fascinating to observe," he continued. "Did you know that?"

Buck said nothing. 

"You make yourself indispensable to people."

The words landed strangely in Buck's chest. 

Harvey gestured toward him again.

“You insert yourself into their lives,” he said. “You help with their kids. Fix their houses. Save their lives.”

Buck forced his voice to stay steady.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s called being a decent human being.”

Harvey hummed thoughtfully.

“Is that what you think you’re doing?”

Buck didn’t answer.

Because suddenly his brain was fogging again.

The edges of the room were blurring slightly.

His leg throbbed faintly somewhere far away, but the pain felt distant now.

Too distant.

Stay awake.

As if he could read his thoughts, Harvey surged forward, pulling Buck's blood stained shirt forward, holding him close to his face. "Don't fall asleep yet, Evan. I have a present for you," he cooed, grabbing something from his pocket. 

A phone. 

Harvey turned it on, swiping, until -

He turned the phone around, and there it was - a live feed, of a different place - but wait - Buck knew - 

He'd woken up there, right after the crash. It was where Harvey had revealed his motive for abducting him - before Buck had passed out again. 

And yet - on the live feed, Buck could see Eddie, on his knees, tears pouring down his cheeks, Athena next to him. 

"As I was saying," Harvey mused. "They took my bait rather easily. I even left the blue sedan there for them too. Oh, how I wish I could've been there. To see the hope on their faces, only to be crushed moments later."

Buck didn't speak. Couldn't speak. He had no words the monster in front of him. All he felt was fury. Not even on his own behalf - but for Eddie. 

He couldn't bear it. He couldn't watch Eddie - not like this. Not in so much pain. 

His chest heart. Nearly rivalling the pain of his leg. He felt hollow, he felt -

"It's not easy watching the man you love, in agony, is it?" Harvey asked, and Buck didn't have it in him to deny his words. 

Because, Harvey was right. 

Whether the feelings had been there all along, Buck didn't know. All he knew was that right now, they were etched into his heart and soul. 

Eddie. 

Buck thought of nothing else as he lunged forward, closing his eyes as he head butted into Harvey with all his might. 

He heard a crunch, and then a bunch of swearing as he was pushed back, his own head crunching into the pillar he was bound to. 

He glanced up, noticing a stream of blood flowing from Harvey's nose, which was now slightly crooked. 

Good. Although, a broken nose was nothing in comparison to what Buck had endured these past days - weeks - however long. 

Harvey used his sleeve to wipe away the blood, before retrieving something from behind him. 

It was only until a clicking sound echoed throughout the room that Buck realised what Harvey had picked up. 

In front of him, stood a dangerous man, and a gun. 

"You know, Evan. I've never shot anyone before."

And then - 

Bang. 

Chapter Text

The text had come in the middle of the night - Athena shaking him from his sleep to show him. 

From: Unknown 

Evan and I have had a fabulous conversation about why his last relationship ended. He says you should ask Maddie about it. 

No photo this time. Eddie wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried. 

He hadn't seen Athena since she'd shown him the text - presumably, she was liaising with Colorado PD again. 

It had been a week now. 

One week. 

Seven days. 

One hundred and sixty eight hours. 

Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred seconds. 

He knew that the situation was becoming more and more bleak by the day. The hour. 

Buck would lose the leg. That was for sure. Eddie had seen those injuries before. And when left untreated, like he knew Buck's would be, it meant one thing. 

Amputation. And that was the best case scenario. 

He could hardly bring himself to imagine - even if Buck made it out of this, he'd never be a firefighter again. That would destroy him. Being a firefighter was Buck's identity. It was part of him. Especially since Bobby had died, he - 

No. Eddie couldn't handle thinking about Bobby right now. 

He glanced over to the side, where a cot had been set up for Chim and Maddie. They'd been staying in his room, refusing to leave his side. And he now had four new officers outside of his door, with strict instructions not to leave it unattended. 

That had come from Athena. 

No, Eddie hadn't received a lecture - but Athena's authority had shone through in other ways. 

Maddie had been a mess ever since she'd arrived. She'd been crying for most of it, or at least looked like she was on the verge of it, anytime Eddie looked over at her.

That was rare, anyway. Eddie could hardly stomach looking at her. Buck's sister. Chim's wife. Jee-Yun and Nash's mom. 

All of this pain...it was because of him. 

As if he was thinking out loud, Chimney glanced over to him, whilst his arm hung around his wife, rubbing soothing circles on her back. 

Eddie blurted it out before he could stop - "Why did Buck and Tommy's relationship end?" 

They both looked at him - stark, and alert. 

"What?" Chimney asked, as if he hadn't heard him correctly. 

But Maddie stared right into Eddie's eyes, unwavering. Then, a small smile. 

"He was afraid that Buck would break his heart," she said softly. "Because he was his first relationship with a man."

Eddie scrunched his eyes. Not quite the explanation he thought he was going to get. 

But Eddie stared back at Maddie, getting the sense that he wasn't being fed the whole story. 

"And?" he asked, waiting. 

She faltered, but then cleared her throat. "Tommy was under the impression that Buck would eventually...realise his feelings for you."

Buck hadn't mentioned this to him. In fact, Buck had lied. Buck had told Eddie that Tommy had dumped him because of the age gap. Which - now he thought about it, was a really lame excuse. Was Eddie really so self-absorbed that he hadn't seen through his best friend's lie?

Then -

"Hold on - Tommy Kinard realised before I did?" 

Despite the situation, a small smile graced both Chim and Maddie's faces, before Eddie's hands covered his face. 

"Oh my god," he groaned, more to himself than anyone else. "So, stupid. So, so stupid."

"In your defence, Buck was also oblivious," Maddie started. 

Chimney gave her a look. 

But Eddie caught it. 

"What do you mean?" 

Chimney gave her another look. 

"Chim - I wanna hear what she says," Eddie spoke.

"I mean - I asked him if he had feelings for you, after they broke up," Maddie continued. 

"And?" Eddie pressed. 

"And all he said was that you were his straight best friend. Then he wanted to move the conversation on, and we haven't spoken of it since," she said. 

Eddie's lips pressed into a thin line, the words settling somewhere deep inside his chest where they refused to move. 

For a long moment he said nothing. 

The hospital room had grown quiet again, the only sound being the soft mechanical hum of the air conditioning and the distant, muffled beeping of machines from somewhere down the corridor. Outside the window, the sky was still dark, the early hours of the morning stretching slowly across the city like the world itself had decided to hold its breath. 

Eddie stared at the opposite wall, but he wasn't really seeing it. 

Instead, his mind replayed Maddie's words over and over again. 

He was afraid Buck would break his heart. 

Tommy thought Buck would eventually realise his feelings for you. 

The idea felt absurd. 

Impossible. 

And yet, the more he sat with it, the more it began to unravel things he hadn't questioned before - small movements, quiet looks, memories that had seemed ordinary at the time but now, under this new light, shifted into something else entirely. 

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face slowly, dragging his palm across the stubble along his jaw as if he could physically wipe the confusion away. 

"So," he said eventually, his voice hoarse from disuse and exhaustion, "let me get this straight."

Chimney shifted slightly on the cot beside Maddie, already looking like he regretted allowing this conversation to happen. 

Eddie continued anyway. 

"Tommy Kinard," he said slowly, emphasising every word like he was trying to force his brain to process it properly, "dated Buck for months..."

Maddie nodded once, cautiously.

"...and somehow figured out Buck had feelings for me before either of us did."

Chimney let out a quiet sigh. 

"Pretty much."

Eddie stared at the floor. 

The room suddenly felt too small. 

Too quiet. 

Too full of thoughts he didn't know what to do with. 

Because if Tommy had seen it...

And Maddie had suspected it...

Then how had Eddie missed it?

Or worse -

Had he seen it?

Had there been moments where the truth had brushed against the edges of his mind, only for him to shove it aside before it could fully take shape?

Memories began surfacing without permission. 

Buck standing too close in the kitchen one night while they argued about something stupid, their shoulders brushing as they both reached for the same beer. 

The way Buck always looked at Christopher, like the kid hung up the moon.

The way Buck had stood beside Eddie at Shannon's grave, silent but steady, refusing to leave even after everyone else had gone. 

The night of the shooting. 

Buck's face in the hospital room afterward - pale, furious, terrified all at once. 

The well collapse. 

How he'd hear that Buck had clawed at the ground, trying to dig his way to Eddie. 

His will. 

Buck struck by lightning - he had died, and a part of Eddie had died with him, too. 

Eddie swallowed. Hard. 

Because suddenly the memories felt different. 

Heavier. 

Charged with something he hadn't been ready to recognise before. 

"Eddie?"

Maddie's voice pulled him back. 

He looked up. 

She was watching him carefully now, the earlier softness in her expression replaced with something more cautious, like she was worried about how he might react to all of this. 

Edie let out a quiet breath. 

"Did you believe it?" he asked her. 

"Believe what?"

"That Buck had feelings for me."

Maddie hesitated.

Only for a second. 

Then she nodded slowly. "Yes."

Eddie blinked. "You were that sure?"

She gave a small shrug. "I've known my brother his entire life," she said gently. "And I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, even if he didn't realise it himself."

The words hit Eddie hard enough that he had to look away again. 

Because if Buck really had felt that way...

If Buck had been carrying that around all this time...

Then Eddie had been well and truly oblivious. 

Worse than oblivious. 

He had been standing right in the middle of it without ever realising. 

A quiet, humourless laugh escaped him. 

"Unbelievable," he muttered. 

Chimney frowned. "What?"

"All this time," he said slowly, "I thought Buck just liked being around us because of Christopher."

Maddie's expression softened. "Oh, Eddie."

He shook his head. "No, seriously," he continued. "I thought...I thought maybe he stuck around because we gave him something stable. Something like a family."

Chimney exchanged a glance with Maddie. 

But it was Maddie who looked at him, tears shining. "You're not wrong."

Eddie's eyes closed briefly. "Yeah," he said quietly. 

He knew that. Of course hd did. Buck had built a place for himself in Eddie's life so gradually that Eddie hadn't eve noticed how permanent it had become. 

But that didn't explain the way Buck had looked at him sometimes. 

Or the way Eddie's chest tightened whenever Buck was hurt.

Or missing. 

Or in danger. 

Like now.

The thought hit him like a punch. 

Buck. 

Somewhere out there in the dark. 

In excruciating pain. 

Possibly dying. 

And Eddie had been sitting here all week, too distracted by guilt and anger to realise something that apparently everyone else had seen coming a mile away.

His chest hurt. 

Because if Buck had feelings for him...

If Buck had been afraid to admit them...

Then Eddie had never even given him the chance to find out if they might have been returned. 

Eddie exhaled slowly. 

"So Buck told you he didn't have feelings for me," he said. 

Maddie nodded. "That's what he said. In his own words."

"But you didn't believe him?

She gave a small smile. "No."

Eddie rubbed his hands over his face again. "So," he muttered under his breath, "my best friend had feelings for me, dated another guy who figured it out before I did, lied about why they broke up, and somehow I'm learning about all of this because another psychopath learned about it before I did too."

Chimney looked like he could've snorted - if the circumstances were different. 

Eddie dropped his hands and stared right ahead. "And now," he said quietly, his voice tightening slightly as the weight of it all settled into his bones, "he might die before I ever get the chance to ask him about it."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. 

Maddie's eyes filled with tears immediately. 

But Eddie barely noticed. Because for the first time since Buck had been taken, the fear inside his chest had shifted into something even worse. 

Not just the fear of losing Buck. 

But the possibility that he had already lost the chance to tell him something that should've been said a long time ago. 

Chapter Text

"9-1-1, how can I help?"

"Hi - I, er - well, we're driving down County Road, just under the I-70, and we're pretty sure we heard a gun shot from one of the buildings we just passed."

"Okay, one moment, we're just pinpointing your location. We'll send a unit out to investigate."

Whatever Harvey had been listening to, Buck could tell that he was panicking. Flustered.

And a panicked man made mistakes. 

Buck was sweating, he had a temperature. His leg - his leg was beyond hope. He knew that now. But now he had something else to contend with - a gunshot wound. 

Harvey had shot him in the abdomen, and the blood loss had been sufficient. 

With his hands bound, he couldn't do anything except watch the blood leave his body. He'd passed out from it, eventually. 

But the next time he'd come to, there was a sloppily applied bandage. Harvey wasn't finished with him yet. If he was, he would've let him bleed out and die. 

No, he had something else up his sleeve. 

Buck didn't have any fight left in him to contemplate. He was so, so tired now. He just - he wanted to close his eyes. To drift off back into unconsciousness. It was calling to him. he could see Eddie, and Christopher when he closed his eyes. If he stayed unconscious for too long, he could even see Bobby...

No. Bobby was dead. 

Buck was alive. And it was going to stay that way - for as long as possible. 

They had to be coming for him. 

Eddie. 

Athena. 

Maddie. Chim. 

They to be. 

Right? 

When Buck came to again, all he could smell was gasoline. Lots of it. A brief look around him confirmed as much. There was gasoline everywhere. The entire place was covered. And that meant one thing - Harvey was going to burn this place alive. And Buck with it. 

He started sweating then. 

Ironic, considering he was a firefighter. 

That this would be the thing to claim his life. 

He was terrified. Well and truly terrified. 

He had battled fires for the last ten years of his life. 

Fire was uncontrollable, yet Buck had always had a semblance of control. Of protection.

And he had a team - a family, by his side when he went into battle. 

Here, in this basement, he was alone. And he had never felt more so. 

Footsteps. 

He tried to steady his breathing. He found it difficult. He found everything difficult. 

"It appears that our time is up, Evan. You know - I knew I shouldn't have used the gun. It was a rookie error," Harvey mused, looking ragged and worn out before him. "But it'll all be worth it, when they race here and try to save you from this fire. I can imagine that Eddie, the hero he's so used to being, will rush right in. And that's when he'll realise that you won't be in here. No," he continued, gleefully looking at Buck's confusion, "you'll be meeting your end somewhere else. But Eddie - Eddie's end will be right here."

Buck had no words. No thoughts. 

Harvey pressed something damp against Buck's nose, and whilst he struggled at the loss of control, a small part of him was glad that he wouldn't feel the last few hours of his miserable life. 

Buck could hear a shovel. 

It was the first of his senses to kick in - all were heavily depleted by now. 

He just about managed to open his eyes, and it was then he noticed that it was growing dark. The sun had set, but it wasn't completely pitch black yet. 

Harvey was a few feet away, digging a -

"Ah, good evening, Evan," Harvey spoke, noticing that he'd woken again. "I must say, digging a grave is far more effort than I thought it would be."

Buck's heart dropped into his stomach. 

He'd thought that being burned alive was bad. 

Buried alive was even worse. 

"It's a good thing that I'm just about done," he sighed, sticking his shovel into the Earth. From Buck's left, he saw a thick, wooden box. Harvey followed Buck's gaze, then laughed. "I'm afraid it'll be a little bit claustrophobic."

"No," Buck managed to rasp, shaking his head through the unimaginable pain he felt. "No."

"You think this is some kind of debate?" Harvey spat, hauling the wooden box until it fell into the grave. "Look, I'll even give you a choice. I can drug you which will make the last part of your life relatively peaceful, or you can lie in there, thinking you'll somehow escape, and feel every single second until you take your last breath."

Buck opened his mouth. "I'm just kidding. You're not getting out of this painlessly. Just like my wife didn't."

Harvey stalked over to him grabbed him by the arm, ignoring the shouts and grunts that left Buck's mouth. His shattered leg dragged across the ground - bumping over every pebble, rock and fallen branch. 

Harvey shoved him into the box, sneering at him from above. 

"Goodbye, Evan Buckley. May you rot inside this box for the rest of eternity," he spat, closing the lid. 

Buck could hear the sound of bolts, and then a drill. 

There was no way he was getting out of this box, even if he was at full strength. And he wasn't. 

He'd been broken. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. 

He couldn't remember who he was anymore. 

He tried to tune out the sound of dirt piling up onto the box, tried to ignore the feeling of breathing becoming more and more difficult. 

he had to preserve it. He had to -

What was the point. 

No one was coming. 

They'd see the building on fire and assume he was in there. 

By the time they'd realise he wasn't - he'd be long gone. 

Buck closed his eyes, and did something he hadn't done in a long time. 

Buck prayed. 

Chapter Text

They were reminiscing about last year's Christmas when Athena barged into the room. 

"We've got a lead - a real one," she announced, all eyes in the room turning to her. 

She started explaining quickly to Maddie and Chim, but Eddie zoned out. 

A lead. 

Buck. 

"I'm coming," he said, sitting up. 

"Eddie -" Chim started. 

"You can't fucking stop me," he growled, swinging his legs over. "Try me," he warned Chim, who glanced up at Athena, then backed away. 

She surveyed him. It angered him. They didn't have time for this. They didn't -

"You do exactly as I say, Diaz," she spoke sternly.

He nodded - not because he agreed, but because he knew she wouldn't let him come otherwise. He'd say anything she needed to hear if it meant going. "Fine."

"I mean it. This man is dangerous, and you're still not one hundred percent recovered."

"Yes, Athena. I understand. Let's go," he spoke, itching to leave this bed, this room, this hospital. 

"We're coming too," Maddie spoke from behind. "Like hell I'm staying behind. He's my baby brother."

Athena nodded her head. "Very well. But you're civilians. You all stay in the car," she warned. 

Eddie didn't look behind him as he gingerly stepped off the bed, his mind urging him to hurry. 

Buck doesn't have long left.

Hurry. 

Athena must've been going double the speed limit, Eddie realised, as he felt the need to hold on during the drive to the location Colorado PD had sent out to all officers. 

It was just off of the I-70. 

Six miles away from the first decoy location.

Eight from the crash site. 

Thirty miles away from the hospital.

Eddie's chest ached. Ached with all of the what ifs. 

He couldn't change the past - but he could enable the future. 

that's what he decided to focus on. 

"Two minutes out," someone from the radio called out, and Athena stepped on it. 

There was no time to waste. 

Just mere minutes could be the difference between life and death. 

"One minute!"

Eddie felt sick. 

"Thirty seconds!"

His head was pounding. 

And then - 

Fire. 

A blaze so gigantic it felt like a tidal wave. Enveloping the building - and two neighbouring buildings, too. 

"NO!"

The scream that left Eddie's mouth was not human. 

He didn't even wait for the car to stop as he opened the door, thudding and rolling on the ground until he came to a stop. He ignored the pain, ignored the taste of blood in his mouth, and pushed himself up onto his feet, sprinting towards the fire. 

"Diaz!" he heard behind him: Chim. 

His captain. 

But not even his captain would stop him from getting to Buck. 

He'd walk through hell for Buck. He knew that now. 

He picked up the pace, not caring about the heat nearing him. He knew the types of injuries one would endure in a burning building - he faced it every shift. And knowing that it was Buck in there - he couldn't even - 

BOOM.

An explosion rocketed from the building, so forceful that Eddie was blown back, landing awkwardly amongst the Earth. 

It was the type of blast that killed.

No survivors. 

Eddie should've been knocked unconscious from it. But he got back up to his feet, before a Colorado firefighter, held him back, refusing to let him anywhere near the site. 

"Sir, you can't -"

"No!" he screamed, feral. "No - let me go! You don't understand, he's - he's -"

"Sir, no one is making it out of a blast that extensive," the firefighter said gently, still restraining Eddie. 

"BUCK!" he screeched, hands outstretched towards the building. "Buck!"

He heard people running behind him, then he heard sobbing. Maddie. 

"Oh my god," he heard someone say. 

Eddie sank to his knees, the firefighter's grip loosening. Tears ran down his cheeks as he looked at the black, still burning building. Well - whatever was left of it. 

And Buck - 

Buck. 

He couldn't breathe. 

The world had narrowed to the roaring inferno in front of him, flames twisted upward into the dark sky like something alive, devouring the building piece by piece while thick black smoke rolled outward in choking waves that burned his eyes and throat. 

Buck was in there.

The thought pounded through his skull with brutal clarity.

Buck was in there.

He could picture it too vividly — Buck tied to that chair, too weak to move, his leg shattered and infected, trapped in some basement room while fire swallowed the structure above him.

“Buck,” Eddie whispered hoarsely.

His voice broke halfway through the name.

Behind him he heard Maddie sobbing openly now, the sound raw and animalistic, the kind of grief that came from somewhere deep and primal.

Chimney’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Eddie! Eddie, look at me!”

Eddie didn’t move.

He couldn’t stop staring at the flames.

The firefighters were already swarming the building, hoses blasting streams of water toward the blaze, but the heat radiating from the structure was so intense that even standing where he was felt like pressing his skin against an open oven.

The Colorado firefighter who had been holding him back kept one arm braced across Eddie’s chest, refusing to let him step any closer.

“No one can get in there yet,” the man said firmly.

Eddie barely heard him.

“Buck’s in there,” he rasped.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes we do!” Eddie shouted suddenly, the words ripping out of him with feral desperation. “He’s been holding him all week — where else would he be?!”

No one answered.

Because no one could argue with that.

Athena stepped forward slowly, her face illuminated by the glow of the fire.

Her expression was tight.

Controlled.

But Eddie could see the tension in her jaw.

“Keep him back,” she told the firefighter quietly.

Eddie twisted toward her.

“Athena -”

“Diaz,” she said sharply.

The tone stopped him.

Not because he agreed with her.

But because it was the voice she used when she needed someone to listen.

“Let them do their jobs,” she said.

Eddie’s chest heaved.

“My job is in there.”

Athena’s gaze softened for just a second.

“I know.”

Then she looked back at the burning building.

“Which is exactly why I need you to stay alive right now.”

The words settled heavily in Eddie’s chest.

But the fire kept burning.

Minutes crawled by.

Firefighters worked relentlessly, attacking the blaze from multiple angles while police pushed the growing crowd of onlookers further back.

The building groaned loudly as parts of the roof began collapsing inward.

Eddie watched every movement like his life depended on it.

Because maybe it did.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, the flames began to shrink.

The thick smoke still poured into the sky, but the worst of the fire had been knocked down.

A team of firefighters approached Athena.

One of them shook his head.

“The interior’s gone,” he said grimly. “Total collapse.”

Eddie felt the words hit his chest like a hammer.

“No,” he whispered.

The firefighter continued.

“If anyone was inside…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t have to.

Maddie broke down completely behind them.

Chimney wrapped both arms around her as she buried her face against his shoulder, her sobs echoing across the quieting scene.

Eddie felt something inside him crack. Then, it hit him. He wasn't sure how he'd missed it. In the chaos of everything -

Because if Buck had been inside -

Then -

“No,” Eddie said again, louder this time.

Athena turned toward him.

“Eddie -”

“He’s not in there.”

Everyone looked at him.

Eddie wiped the tears from his face roughly, his chest rising and falling as adrenaline surged through him again.

“He’s not.”

“Diaz,” the firefighter said carefully, “that explosion would’ve—”

“I know what explosions do,” Eddie snapped.

The man fell silent.

Eddie looked back at the smoking wreckage. Something about it felt wrong. Too fast. Too perfect.

Harvey had spent weeks orchestrating this. Manipulating them. Playing with them.

And suddenly he was just going to -

What? Blow himself up?

Eddie shook his head slowly.

“No.”

Athena watched him carefully.

“What are you thinking?”

Eddie forced himself to breathe.

Think.

“Harvey wants me to suffer,” he said quietly. “That’s been the entire point of this.”

Athena nodded slightly.

“Yes.”

“So if Buck was in there…” Eddie gestured toward the destroyed building.

“That would end it.”

The realisation spread across Athena’s face slowly.

“He wouldn’t end the game,” she murmured.

Eddie nodded.

“He’s not done yet.”

Athena turned sharply toward the firefighters.

“Search the perimeter,” she ordered immediately. “Every inch of the property.”

The firefighters moved quickly, spreading out around the wreckage.

Eddie didn’t wait.

He pushed past the tape and began circling the back of the building, his boots crunching against gravel and broken debris as the smell of smoke clung to the air.

Behind the structure the ground sloped downward slightly toward a patch of dirt and weeds.

Flashlights flickered across the area as officers swept through the darkness.

Then one of them stopped.

“Sergeant!”

Chapter Text

Nine minutes. 

That's how long the doctors had calculated Buck had been dead for. 

Twelve minutes where Evan Buckley had not been alive. 

Eddie hadn't left his side. 

Since the moment Buck had listened, and taken a breath, to when the paramedics had to resume CPR in the ambulance, to when doctors had rushed him into surgery. 

Even now, he was sat on the seat closest to the OR doors. As close as anyone would let him. 

Brain damage, he'd been told. 

He didn't need to be told. He knew this. 

from his training, he knew. 

It would take a miracle for Buck to wake up with no complications. And that wasn't even counting his leg. 

Or the gunshot wound. 

No, Eddie's mouth soured every time he thought about the torture Buck had endured. And on his behalf, too. 

Everyone was here. Well - Maddie and Chim. 

Buck's parents were on a flight. 

Athena had been here too - until she'd been called away with developing news about Harvey's whereabouts. 

Eddie wanted to kill him. 

Of course, Eddie had killed before, when he'd served in the Army. 

But now - he wanted to kill a civilian. An American. Someone, that once upon a time, lived amongst them. 

A nurse came through the double doors, left swinging in her wake. 

Eddie recognised her. She was on Buck's team. 

He leapt up from his seat. 

"Are you next of kin?" she asked, surveying him. As if she didn't know. 

Eddie's blood boiled, and he was about so argue when Maddie came rushing up. 

"He's as good as," she spoke. "I'm his sister. What's the update?" she asked, tears still shining in her eyes. 

"We lost him again on the table - but, well - he's a fighter. We're not sure of the long term damage as of yet, but we've come out to ask you to make a necessary medical decision on his behalf," she explained calmly, as if this wasn't some life changing event. 

"Is it his leg?" Eddie asked.

The look in the nurse's eyes confirmed everything Eddie needed to know. 

She nodded. "Without amputating it, we risk an infection that could spread throughout his body."

Maddie nodded, then turned to Eddie. "We have to, right?"

Eddie knew that this would change the trajectory of Buck's entire life. He knew that. But he also knew - that without it, there would be no life. 

"Do it," he spoke, because he couldn't let the decision fall to Maddie. If Buck was angry - deservedly so, it needed to be at him. Someone he probably already hated. He needed someone in his corner. He needed his sister.

The norse nodded, making to turn back, before she said, "I'll be out again as soon as we have an update."

Maddie's lip quivered as the nurse left. "He's never going to be the same."

Eddie shook his head, opening his arms up for Maddie, embracing her. 

He had no words, and neither did she, so she let him hold her.

Eddie wasn't sure how much time has passed by the time the surgeon came out of the doors, walking towards him, Maddie and Chimney. Athena was still nowhere to be seen, and he hadn't heard from her in just over an hour. 

"He's out of surgery," was all the surgeon said. 

"How did it go? Is he -"

"He's alive," the surgeon spoke gently. "We won't know anything more for a few days. We've placed him into an induced coma, to allow his body to heal from the injuries he sustained. As I'm sure you're aware, we had to amputate his leg, just above the knee. He also sustained a gunshot wound to the abdomen, along with broken ribs, internal bleeding and a severe concussion, accompanied by deep lacerations to his face and chest," the surgeon explained. 

It was the first time anyone had verbalised the injuries Buck had been subjected to. Eddie felt nauseous. 

"He was down for a while before he was brought in -"

"Nine minutes," Eddie murmured. 

"- so we don't know the full extent of the damage. Usually, brain damage occurs after five minutes, but he didn't quite hit the ten minute threshold, so we'll have to wait and see."

Maddie swept. 

Chimney swore. 

Eddie stared at the surgeon. "Where is he." he demanded. 

Perhaps the surgeon was aware of the situation, because instead of telling him he couldn't see him, he told him the room number. 

Eddie left without another word. 

He wasn't going to allow Buck to be alone for another moment. Not if he could help it. 

He vaguely heard the surgeon following him, but he stalked through the hospital before arriving at the room number. 

2104. 

The pushed open the door, immediately finding Buck on the bed, buried underneath dozens of tubes and wires. 

Despite everything, he looked peaceful. 

It wasn't the same expression he'd had on his face when Eddie had found him. 

No - he just looked like he was asleep.

Just with various cuts and bruises on his face and neck. 

"Oh, Buck," he whispered, heading towards the bed, sitting on the visitor's chair next to it. 

He could hear the steady hum of the machine next to him, but instead focused on Buck, himself. 

he knew that he was in a coma. But still, even seeing his chest rise and fall swept him off his feet with relief. 

After finding him still and lifeless - 

"You scared the absolute crap out of me," he sobbed, allowing the tears to fall freely. "This week has been hell on earth. I know it's been worse for you. I can't even imagine, but I - I'm just so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry."

No reply, obviously. 

And yet, Eddie stayed. 

He didn't think he'd ever leave his side again. 

Harvey had slipped through Colorado PD's fingers. 

Athena was losing the will to live. 

She'd taken a brief respite in the hospital's chapel. 

She wasn't religious - not by any means. But it made her feel closer to Bobby, and he was exactly what she needed right now. 

"I wish you were here, Bobby. I need you. Eddie needs you. Buck needs you," she said out loud, closing her eyes. "There was a moment where I thought we'd lost him, Bobby. I won't survive it if he goes. I know you miss him, but please let him stay for a while longer. He's not ready to go just yet."

One of the candles at the front flickered, then went out. Athena huffed out a whimper. 

"Thank you."

Buck had been here before. 

Well - not here, exactly. This place was new...unfamiliar. But it was still a hospital. 

It was similar to when he'd died after being struck by lightning, fighting his way back to real life, to reality. 

Except, back then, Bobby had been alive. 

This time, when he turned the corner and saw Bobby, the breath died in his throat. 

"Bobby?" he asked, taking a step closer. 

Bobby smiled, looking at Buck sadly. 

"You're not supposed to be here yet, kid."

Buck paused. 

"Am I dead?" 

Bobby shrugged gently. "You're in between. Your fate is in your own hands, kiddo."

"I've always hated making decisions," Buck said grimly, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"You didn't deserve what happened to you, Buck. You know that, don't you?" 

Tears pricked at Buck's eyes, then he shuffled his feet. "Sure."

Bobby stepped towards him, and Buck instinctively reached out. 

But then - as if someone was talking to him, Bobby stepped away, shaking his head. 

"Not yet, Buck. Not yet."

And then Bobby disappeared, and everything went black. 

Four days had passed. 

Eddie had slept in the chair, not bothering to change, shower, anything. 

Flat out refused, actually. 

Had nearly thrown a tantrum when Chimney had offered to sit next to Buck so he could have a shower. 

No - Eddie was not leaving. Ever. 

The chair beside Buck’s hospital bed had become his entire world.

It was uncomfortable, the thin padding long since flattened from the constant pressure of his weight, and his back ached from the awkward angle he slept in whenever exhaustion finally dragged him under for a few restless hours. His ribs still throbbed from the crash, the torn stitches beneath his shirt pulling unpleasantly whenever he shifted, and his beard had grown uneven and dark along his jaw from days without shaving.

None of it mattered.

Because Buck was here.

Alive.

Barely — but alive.

The steady beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor beside the bed had become the most important sound Eddie had ever heard in his life. Each quiet pulse felt like a promise that Buck was still fighting, still somewhere beneath the layers of sedation and machines and tubes that kept him tethered to this world.

Eddie leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on Buck’s face.

The bruising had faded slightly over the past few days, turning yellow and purple along the edges of his cheekbone and temple, but the deep cuts across his jaw and neck were still angry and red, the stitches stark against his skin. The ventilator tube rested between his lips, fogging slightly with each breath the machine helped him take.

He looked younger like this.

Peaceful.

Painfully peaceful.

Like someone had pressed pause on him.

Eddie reached out slowly and wrapped his fingers around Buck’s hand.

The skin felt warmer now than it had four days ago, when Buck had been wheeled into this room looking pale and still and frighteningly fragile.

That first night had nearly broken him.

Because Buck hadn’t moved.

Hadn’t twitched.

Hadn’t reacted.

Eddie had spent hours staring at the rise and fall of Buck’s chest just to reassure himself that he was still there.

Still breathing.

Still fighting.

Still Buck.

“You’re really pushing it, you know that?” Eddie murmured quietly, his thumb brushing over Buck’s knuckles absentmindedly.

His voice sounded rough from disuse.

“You always did like making things dramatic.”

The words hung in the quiet room.

No response.

Of course.

But Eddie kept talking anyway.

Because the silence was worse.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he continued, his voice dropping softer now, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. “I thought… when they pulled you out of that grave…”

His throat tightened suddenly.

The memory was still too fresh.

The sight of Buck buried beneath the dirt, his skin grey and cold and still as they dragged him out of the shallow pit Harvey had left him in like discarded trash.

Nine minutes.

Nine minutes Buck had been gone.

Eddie swallowed hard and shook the thought away.

“You’re not allowed to do that again,” he said quietly. “Ever.”

The heart monitor beeped steadily.

Buck didn’t move.

Eddie leaned back in the chair slowly, exhaustion creeping through his bones like a slow tide.

Four days.

Four days of watching.

Waiting.

Listening.

Every small twitch of Buck’s fingers. Every change in the rhythm of the machines. Every quiet update from the doctors. Brain swelling had stabilised. No signs of infection.

But still no sign that Buck was waking up. They said it could take time. Days. Weeks. No one knew.

Eddie rubbed a tired hand over his face.

He was halfway through the motion when the door creaked open behind him.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

Athena’s voice filled the room quietly.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder.

She stood in the doorway, looking just as exhausted as he felt. Her blazer was gone, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back messily like she’d been running her hands through it for hours.

“You look like hell,” she added.

Eddie snorted softly.

“Right back at you.”

Athena stepped into the room, her gaze drifting toward Buck automatically.

For a moment her expression softened.

Then she looked back at Eddie.

“You haven’t left this room.”

Not a question.

Eddie shrugged slightly.

“No reason to.”

Athena sighed.

“Eddie…”

“He wakes up,” Eddie interrupted quietly, his gaze returning to Buck’s face, “I wanna be here.”

Athena studied him for a long moment.

Then she nodded once.

“I get that.”

She stepped closer to the bed, glancing down at Buck’s motionless form.

Her jaw tightened.

“He looks better than he did,” she admitted.

“Yeah.”

A quiet moment passed.

"I thought you'd want to know - Colorado PD have got movement on Harvey. Crossing state lines into Utah. I'm going to assist them in the search," she said, touching his hand for comfort. 

Eddie's eyes hardened, briefly looking away from Buck. 

"When you find him - give me a call."

She gave him a wry look. "Planning on doing something illegal, Diaz?"

He didn't answer. 

He didn't need to. 

Athena kissed his cheek, before walking over to Buck and whispering something into his ear. 

"Stay in touch, Eddie. Let me know the moment he wakes up," she says softly, and then she left, leaving Eddie alone with Buck once again. 

"They'll catch him," Eddie found himself saying. "They'll find him, and they'll make him pay, Buck. I promise."

A pause. 

"I was going to wait until you woke up to say this, but - I think I love you, Buck. In a way I've never loved anyone else. I think - I think I love you so deeply that -"

Eddie's mini monologue was cut short by the sudden change in beeps coming from the machine. 

And then - Buck's fingers twitched. 

Curling outwards, as if he was reaching for something. 

Or - 

Someone. 

Chapter Text

Buck felt like he was choking. 

Like, actually choking. 

His eyes surged open in a panic, and he couldn't - 

He couldn't -

"Mr Buckley, relax, we just need to take out the tube -" an unfamiliar voice spoke. 

Someone was hovering over him, and his eyes widened before closing. 

Then - a deep breath of fresh air filled his lungs. 

He could breathe. 

He was alive. 

He'd survived. 

Buck squeezed his eyes tightly, before opening them apprehensively, looking around at his surroundings. 

A hospital room. That was where he was - a hospital. 

To his right - a nurse in scrubs, scribbling away on a chart. 

To his left -

Eddie. 

Looking at him like he was the only person in the world. 

Buck didn't have the words. 

Instead, he looked down. 

Down at his legs, under the duvet. 

Except - 

It didn't quite look right. 

So he tried to wiggle them, except -

Buck choked out a sob. "Where's my leg?" 

He heard a harsh whimper come from the corner, directing his attention to Eddie, who looked as if he was on the verge of crying. 

The nurse left the room, leaving them alone. 

"Buck - they - your leg, it was -"

"They took my leg?" he asked, hating how childlike he sounded. 

Eddie's grim expression confirmed it all. 

Buck stared at him.

For a long moment neither of them spoke.

The silence in the room thickened, heavy with things neither of them wanted to say out loud.

Buck’s gaze dropped again to the uneven shape beneath the hospital blanket, his brain desperately trying to process what his eyes were telling him. The duvet sloped normally over his right leg, the familiar shape of knee, shin, foot pressing against the fabric.

But on the left side—

It stopped.

Abruptly.

Too high.

Too wrong.

Buck’s chest hitched.

“No,” he whispered.

His hands moved automatically, trembling as he pushed the blanket down slightly, as if the visual confirmation might somehow prove his brain wrong.

It didn’t.

The thick white bandaging wrapped around his thigh where his leg should have continued made his stomach twist violently.

Buck sucked in a shaky breath that turned into something dangerously close to a sob.

“No,” he said again, louder this time, like saying it enough times might undo reality.

Eddie moved immediately.

“Buck—”

“No,” Buck repeated, shaking his head weakly, his hands gripping the sheets as panic clawed its way up his throat. “No, no, no—”

His breathing sped up, the monitor beside the bed beeping faster in response.

Eddie reached for him instinctively.

“Hey, hey— Buck, look at me.”

Buck couldn’t.

His entire body felt like it was falling apart all over again.

A broken sound escaped his throat.

“I’m a firefighter,” Buck whispered hoarsely.

Eddie didn’t respond right away.

Because there was no response that didn’t sound like a lie.

Buck laughed weakly.

Except it didn’t sound like laughter.

It sounded hollow.

“Was,” he corrected himself.

The word hung in the air like a death sentence.

Eddie’s jaw tightened.

“Buck—”

“No,” Buck said again, shaking his head as tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t.”

Eddie froze.

“Don’t say it’ll be okay,” Buck continued weakly. “Don’t say I’ll figure it out. Don’t say there are other things I can do.”

His voice cracked.

“Because that was my thing.”

The tears were coming freely now.

“That was the one thing I was actually good at.”

Eddie’s chest tightened painfully.

Because Buck wasn’t wrong.

Being a firefighter had never just been a job for him.

It had been identity.

Purpose.

The place where Buck had finally figured out who he was supposed to be.

Eddie swallowed hard.

“You’re still Buck,” he said quietly.

Buck laughed again, shaking his head.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No,” Eddie replied immediately.

Buck turned his head slowly, his red, exhausted eyes meeting Eddie’s.

The intensity in Eddie’s gaze made Buck pause.

"You're still Buck, favourite uncle to Jee-Yun and Nash," Eddie repeated firmly. "You're still Buck, a second Dad for Christopher. You're still Buck, the guy who talked a woman off a bridge when everyone else had already given up. You're still - you're still Buck, someone I'm not entirely sure I can live without. That doesn't disappear because you lost a leg. I won't let it."

Buck didn't answer. Because part of him wanted to believe that. And another part of him was absolutely certain that his entire life had just ended. 

The silence stretched between them again. 

Then Buck spoke again, quieter this time. 

“…he said you’d come.”

Eddie blinked.

“What?”

Buck turned his head slowly on the pillow, the movement clearly costing him more energy than he wanted to admit.

“Harvey,” he said quietly.

Eddie’s expression hardened immediately at the name.

“He kept saying it,” Buck continued, his voice rough but steady now. “That you’d come for me. That you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.”

Eddie didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth of that statement sat squarely in the middle of his chest.

Of course he had come.

There had never been a version of this where he didn’t.

Buck watched him carefully.

“I told him he didn’t know you,” Buck said.

A faint, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I said that was his first mistake.”

Eddie huffed out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh.

“Yeah?”

Buck nodded slightly.

Then his gaze softened.

“You did come.”

The words were simple.

But they carried something heavier beneath them.

Eddie shifted in the chair, leaning forward slightly.

“Buck,” he said quietly, “I was always going to come.”

Buck held his gaze.

“I know.”

The room went quiet again.

Buck studied Eddie’s face for a moment longer, noticing things he probably wouldn’t have registered before.

The exhaustion in his eyes.

The stubble along his jaw.

The way his shoulders were hunched like he’d been carrying something heavy for far too long.

“You haven’t left,” Buck murmured.

Eddie shook his head immediately.

“No.”

“How long?”

“Four days.”

Buck blinked slowly.

“You stayed here for four days?”

Eddie shrugged slightly.

“Didn’t seem like a good time to go anywhere.”

Buck let out a weak breath that was half disbelief, half something warmer.

“You’re insane.”

“Probably.”

Buck studied him for a moment.

Then his expression shifted slightly.

“You know…” he said slowly, “I heard some things before I woke up.”

Eddie frowned. “What things?”

Buck hesitated. Then he said quietly, “Several things. You, especially.”

Eddie felt his stomach tighten.

Because he knew exactly what that meant.

"Ah," Eddie spoke slowly. This wasn't exactly how he'd envisioned they'd be having this conversation. "Look -"

"No, Eddie. Let me speak, first," Buck interrupted. "I think I've been in denial for a long time. I mean, I was about my sexuality for a long time before I even came out. And then I was dating Tommy, which - opened my eyes to a lot of things."

Eddie tried not to laugh, recalling the conversation with Maddie and Chim a few days prior. 

"Anyway - I think I refused to acknowledge any...potential feelings I may or may not have felt towards..."

"Me?" Eddie asked wryly, raising an eyebrow. 

Buck coughed, then nodded. 

"Oh, Buck. It seems I have been oblivious for some time, now. Because how the hell did Tommy Kinard figure it out before me?"

A belly laugh came from Buck, and it was the most joyous sound Eddie had heard in days. Weeks. Quite possibly even months. 

"Careful," Buck smiled. "I might pull a stitch."

Eddie smiled, then squeezed Buck's hand. 

"Buck - in all seriousness, though. I'm going to be here for you. Through recovery. Through everything that life will throw at us. I know the next couple of months are going to be difficult - but - I want to be there. If you'll let me."

A tear slid down Buck's face. 

"I think I'd like nothing more."