Chapter Text
He thought they would understand. I mean they were his family. "It might be hard now. Then I'll be back with my family, and everything will be okay again." He finds himself replaying those words in his head. Every. Single. Night. He wants to laugh at how wrong he was. They weren't a family. Maybe they never were. Maybe he was just blind by the want of it all. The want to be loved. For the first time in his life. But maybe it was never real. Maybe he never mattered to them, the way they mattered to him. And deep inside, it killed him.
It's been 3 weeks exactly since he's been back with the 118. Almost a month. And things were somehow worse than they were when he first got back. Everyone looked through him. The thing he hated most in this world. They didn't yell or scream at him. They did the tell him how bad he messed up. They just treated him like a ghost. Like he was just another person on shift that they never talked to. They never waited for him to eat anymore. Nor was he invited. But as time went on, he stopped being hungry. He felt more weak. Not wanting Bobby to pick up on it, and make him do probie work for even longer, he worked himself even harder. Pushing down the weakness. "Now is not the time to go weak Buckley." He would tell himself. He would promise himself. He wouldn't go weak. So he pushes himself harder than before. Not that anyone noticed. They never noticed him anymore.
After a long 24 hour shift, he walked through the door to his loft, and he finally allowed himself to give into the tiredness. He allowed his eyes to droop, the drowsiness to come back to his mind. He made it half way up the stairs before he realized it was more than just being tired and weak. His fingers went numb, his mind went blank. He tried to reach for his phone to call somebody. Before he realized, he didn't have anyone to call. No one who would care enough to come check on him, after the long shift they just had. So he let his arms drop by his side, and let fate take it's course. His vision deteriorating, from the outskirts of his eyes. Finally giving into the darkness.
He can feel before he could see or hear. He could feel the hard ground his back laid on. He could feel the pain in the back of his head. The pain in his left arm, aching and probably bruised. Slowly peeling his eyes open, his vision coming soon after. Blinking away the dark edges, he lays silently for a few moments. Letting the ringing in his ears, ease up before moving his head to look around. He was at the bottom of his stairs. Taking a few seconds to figure out be must have fallen down them. Which would explain the aching in his head and arm. Sighing, he slowly sits up, bringing a hand to the back of his head, he feels the liquid. He's felt it before, numours times. Still he can't help but feel annoyed. He makes note to see his doctor the next day to make sure it's nothing too serious. But for now, he makes his way to the couch. Not wanting to risk falling down the stairs again.
The next day he wakes up at 8:00am, wanting to get it done and over with. He calls her right away to make the appointment, then starts to get ready. He takes a shower, wincing at the stinging. He sees the dry blood, wash down the drain sighing in relief. Not having an appetite yet again, he skips breakfast, grabbing his keys and heading out the door before he can convince himself it's a good idea. He knows he probably shouldn't drive, but he can't bring himself to care.
Now he sits in the room, waiting for Dr. Lyra to come back. They did a CT scan for some reason. But Buck didn't think too much of it, thinking they just wanted to be cautious. But when she came back into the room, he could tell something was wrong.
"Hello again, Buck." Buck didn't let her finish, knowing she was just gonna best around the bush about it.
"What is it?"
"What do you mean?" Buck scoffs.
"I know that look. That's the look people get when they have to tell me yet another thing is wrong with me, so what is it?" Dr. Lyra sighs. She always hated giving news like this to patients.
"We did a CT scan as you know. And we found something that we originally thought was a blood clot in your brain." Buck nodded waiting for her to continue. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.
"I'm sorry Buck. We found cancerous tumors in the temporal and occipital lobe in your brain." Buck closes his eyes and turns away. In a way he feels like he's known for a while. But he never thought it was serious. It's like, you know when your brain tries to trick you into thinking you have cancer, or internal bleeding or something, but you never actually believe it. You just convince yourself you're being paranoid.
Taking a deep breath, Buck focuses back on Dr. Lyra.
"Okay. So wha-what does that mean? Where do we go from here? I mean there are treatments for it right? Like chemotherapy?"
"Well, we'll need to do more tests, to determine how bad it is. There might be more that didn't show up on the CT scan. Once we do that, we can decide which chemotherapy to distribute, or if that's even an option." This was all very overwhelming for Buck. He wants to call Maddie. She'll probably retain more of this information than he can.
"Chemotherapy might not be an option?"
"We'll have to see how far it's progressed before we can make any decisions. Our best hope is that we caught it in time." Buck let's them take his blood, as they order other tests. He never realized just how many tests they had to do for cancer. When their done he takes his phone and calls Maddie. He doesn't want to tell anyone else yet. But he needs someone who's not mad at him to support him. On the 4th ring she answers.
"Hey! What's up?" Maddie's voice on the other line is quiet, leaving Buck confused.
"Maddie? Are you okay, you're really quiet?"
"Um, Yea no I'm good, I'm just with Chim right now. Why, was there something you needed?" Buck realizes why she was acting strange. She didn't want Chim to know he was on the other line.
"Uh.... No. No I'm good. Have fun." He hangs up before she can respond. He sighs and leans his head back against his pillow they had gotten for him. He guesses it's a good thing he just had a 24 hour shift, cause that means he has the next 48 hours off. He feels himself start to drift, figuring it would be a while till he got the results, he decides to get some rest. He had a feeling it was gonna be a long day.
A few hours pass when the doctor comes back to the room. He had just woken up a few minutes prior, but was feeling a bit better than when he came in to the hospital.
"Have a nice nap?" Buck can only offer a half ass smile before responding.
"Yea. Sorry I was tired. Hope that was okay." Dr. Lyra smiles back softly.
"Of course it is." She hesitates before speaking again, which makes Buck nervous.
"Is there anyone we can call? This can be a difficult time for anyone. It might be nice to have some support." Buck is already shaking his head. He's already decided he doesn't want anyone else to know. He didn't want the reason they forgave him to be because he was dying. He wanted them to get past it on their own terms.
"No I... I already decided I didn't want to tell anyone. I wouldnt want to put them out. I know I can be kind of exhausting." Buck chuckles a little, although Dr. Lyra didn't find it amusing.
"I'm sure they wouldn't think that. Their your friends. They'd just want you to be okay." Buck agrees, only so she would stop talking about it. He's already made up his mind. She should know how stubborn Buck was, from all the physical therapy he endured for 6 months.
"I'll think about it. What did the tests say? How bad is it? Are you here to tell me I only have a few months to live?" Buck's pathetic attemt as a smile didn't go over her head. She smiles and shakes her head.
"We didn't find any other cancerous cells. From what we can tell, your only stage two. There's a good chance, with some chemotherapy, and rest, you can make a full recovery. If the chemo works, you could be up and firefighting within a year." Bucks smile drops.
"There's a chance it won't work?"
" Well there's always a chance it doesn't work. Let's just take it one step at a time. We can start treatment in about a week. That'll give us time to plan everything out. Do you have any questions?" Buck thinks for a moment. He knows a little bit about the brain, but he doesn't know how it'll affect him.
"Will there be things I won't be able to do? How much will this really affect me? I mean the brain, tha-that's a pretty essential part of the body."
"Well, the cancer in your temporal lobe will affect your speech, memory, maybe even your hearing and behavioral habits. And the occipital lobe will affect your vision. The Chemo and medication we'll have you on, can also make you very weak and tired. You'll be nauseous, loss of appetite, weight loss as well." She pauses, noticing how overwhelmed Buck was getting. Fidgeting with the ring on his pinky.
"What about my hair? Will I lose that too?"
"Some people do. Others don't. We'll start off with 3 months of chemotherapy treatment. And we'll take it from there. I can also print out some papers for you, that'll have a bit more detail."
Over the next 2 days, Buck has been planning. Making sure everything is ready for when he gets really sick. He disassembled his bed and brought it downstairs. He had a feeling he'd be too weak to crawl his way upstairs every night when he was done work. He brought his dresser full of clothes downstairs as well, then moved his couch upstairs. Rearranging around his whole loft, even making a bunch of different soups and freezing them for when he was nauseous. He didn't mind doing all those things, it kept his mind busy. Plus he'd rather do it now before he was too weak and couldn't. He doesn't look forward to telling Bobby he wouldn't be able to work anymore. He knows he still has a few months before then. He just hopes the chemo does its job and he won't have to have that conversation.
The next day at work was the same as the last. A bit weak, but nothing he couldn't handle. He didn't feel too sick yet, which was weird. Knowing he had cancer but not feeling any different from before. He looks to Eddie. Feeling a sense of nostalgia. He shouldn't look at Eddie and feel that. Not yet anyway. It was way too soon to be feeling nostalgic. He shouldn't miss him. He was right in front him, yet it's the furthest he's ever felt. Everything is just out of place. Eddie used to be Bucks best friend. Now he's barley a co-worker. They don't even do chores together anymore. Realistically, Buck knows it doesn't take two people to clean a window. But he liked having Eddie so close. Even the air around him used to bring so much comfort. But now all he feels is this cold wind. The ghost of who Eddie used to be when he was with Buck. He hates himself even more now. All he wanted was his family. But his stupid abandonment issues got in the way again, and convinced him that if he didn't have firefighting, he didn't have anyone. It made so much sense at the time. He only got this family because he was a firefighter. Before he was alone. Living out of his car, with no one to have his back. It was supposed to be different now. Buck really shouldn't be surprised he screwed it up again. He always fucks everything up. He just didn't think I'd be this soon.
At the end of the day he tries to talk to Eddie. Lately everyone looked through him. Like he was a ghost. He felt invisible. He just wanted someone to notice him even if it was just to yell at him. They were in the locker room, everyone else had left, and it was just them. Buck sensed Eddie was about to leave so he spoke up.
"Eddie wait." The other didn't flinch, almost expecting Buck to say something. Instead he closes his locker and makes his way to the door. Not a single word leaving his lips.
"Eddie please. Just talk to me." Sighing Eddie put his bag down, and turned back to Buck.
"What would you like me to say Buck?"
"Anything. Punch, kick, yell at me for all I care. Just say something." Eddie rolls his eyes, going to pick up his bag from the ground.
"I did yell at you. It did nothing." Before Eddie could leave, Buck grabbed the bag from his shoulder and stepped back.
"I'm not letting you leave until you talk to me." Eddie steps forward, annoyed at Bucks antics. But Buck takes a step back, not allowing Eddie to reach him.
"Give me my bag Buck."
"Not until you talk to me." Getting more frustrated, Eddie tries to take a step forward, cornering Buck against the lockers.
"Just give it back."
"Talk to me. Just tell me what I need to do to fix this." Finally Eddie has enough, pushing Buck up against the lockers by his shoulders. Buck holds his breath. Waiting for Eddie to speak.
"You can't fix this Buck. You screwed up. You chose to sue the department, to sue us. Now you get to live with that decision for the rest of your life. So stop complaining, and suck it up." Eddie roughly grabs his bag back and walks out. Bobby catches his eye, assuming he probably overheard the whole thing, Buck sighs and slams his head and against the metal. He doesn't know why he thought that would make him feel better. But he knows Eddie wasn't wrong. He wants to explain why he did it, but he doesn't know how. Grabbing his own bag he walks out, avoiding everyone's gaze as he leaves the station he once thought of as a home.