Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eddie remembers going down the side of the cliff to the hiker below. 

He remembers putting the harness around the hiker. He saw them being lifted to safety. He felt the ground shake and the earth beneath his feet give way. He hears the screams from above. 

He remembers falling. 

Eddie looks up at the sky and counts the clouds. 

One. 

He thinks he hears voices, but he’s not sure. He knows he’s in pain, which he knows is good. Feeling pain is what Eddie’s used to and lets him know he’s alive. It’s a constant to him. That’s how he knew in Afghanistan. That’s how he knew in the streets of LA. 

There’s another type of pain Eddie thinks about. The hole left in his chest after his son went to Texas. He’s only felt that type of pain a handful of times in his life. He briefly thinks of Shannon’s lifeless body on the sidewalk and Buck, dangling in the air. Eddie doesn’t want to think too hard about why those two are equivalent. He doesn’t want his dying thoughts to be a lifeless love confession. 

Two . 

He exhales and his chest rattles. He coughs a little to get more air, finds he can’t. He knows what broken ribs feel like. He’s had them before. He gave them to Buck. Eddie still remembers the cracking under his hands. He pushed too hard, felt like it wasn’t enough. 

Like he wasn’t enough. 

He had proven it too many times to count. 

Don’t drag him down with you. 

Eddie wasn’t enough to keep his son in California. He let his grief get in the way of his son’s needs. In retrospect, he thinks this isn’t the first time letting Christopher down. Maybe it was the first time he went to Afghanistan. Maybe it was moving to LA. 

But that couldn’t be. Christopher met Buck in the city of stars. And Buck is enough for his son and him. 

Three . 

The wind blows and feels his wet hair try to move. He feels cold. It could be from the blood leaking from his head wound. He feels the chill down to his bones like he did exiting the well. 

Oh god, the well. 

Buck drove him from the hospital and to his house. He didn’t leave Eddie’s side all night, said he couldn’t. Eddie did not mind. Buck was warm and a solid figure reminding him he made it out alive. Eddie wouldn’t let Buck leave.  

He asked Buck to stay and he did. He asked Buck to bed and he went. He told himself it was to keep him warm. 

It was the biggest lie ever told. 

Four . 

The voices are coming closer. They’re yelling at him, telling him to hold on and it’ll be okay . He knows the voices. He would know them in his sleep. 

He would always know Buck’s voice, even if he was dead. 

Five . 

Eddie wants to sleep. He wants to close his eyes and just let go. 

Let go of the madness around him. 

He’s tired of pretending. He’s exhausted of pretending to be someone he’s not. Maybe Father Brian was right. He wanted juice. He wants joy back in his life. He can’t keep denying it. 

Maybe the joy was blue eyes, red birthmarks, and tan arms. 

Six

Eddie takes a short breath. It’s harder to count the clouds now. His eyes droop, and he knows he doesn’t have much time. 

He should have told Buck after the shooting. 

Seven? 

He should have fought harder for Christopher. Should have stood up to his parents so long ago. 

He shouldn’t move to El Paso. He wouldn’t be able to breathe without Buck.

Nine. No wait, eight? 

He’s losing track of time, of himself. He feels footsteps running towards him. He can hear his voice calling his name. 

Calling him home. 

Ten . 

The last thing Eddie feels is strong hands on him. 

He at least thinks this is the way to go, being held by his best friend. 

Eddie closes his eyes. He doesn’t want the clouds to be the last thing he sees. He wants it to be blue eyes staring at him, holding him, telling him he’ll be alright.

Chapter Text

Miraculously, Eddie wakes up. 

The first thing Eddie sees is the bright, overhead lights. He blinks a few times and sees the ceiling tiles above him, realizing the room isn’t as bright as he thought. The lights are dimmed slightly. He’s concerned that he might have been out for a few days. 

Eddie can feel the IV in his arm. Every twinge of muscle and the needle poking at his veins. He wonders what type of drugs he’s on because he doesn’t feel any pain. He knows he should. Hitting the ground is what broke his fall. And falls are what usually kill you. 

He tries to flex his hand to get some feeling back in his broken body. Eddie finds a familiar weight in his hand. His hand gives an experimental squeeze, and the hand in his squeezes back. He slowly turns his head to see the person he’s been dreaming of. Buck is sitting there, hand intertwined with Eddies. The curly-haired man has his eyes closed. A simple thought passes through Eddie’s bandaged head. 

Beautiful, sleeping Buck. 

The chair was next to the bed, and Buck used the railing as a headrest. He looked uncomfortable, but he looked peaceful. Eddie wanted so badly to wake him up and let Buck crawl into bed with him, crawl into his soul. He wants to keep back there and never let go. 

But hope only works in movies and Eddie isn’t lucky enough to be in one. 

Beep . 

He finally hears the machine next to him, letting him know he’s alive. Eddie is unsure if he’s happy about the sound. It probably doesn’t bode well that he is content with not waking up and has made peace with the universe around him. Frank is going to have a field day with him. 

There’s another sound in the room. One Eddie knows intimately. Buck’s snoring next to him, head resting on the railing. Somehow Buck’s soft snores make him feel at ease being in the hospital again. He gives Buck another soft squeeze. It lets him know he’s alive, even though he still doesn’t know how.  

There’s a shift next to him, and oceanic blue eyes stare at Eddie. A small smile appears on Eddie’s face. The silence in the air isn’t deafening. It’s not even choking with awkwardness. They were always able to communicate without words. 

Please, don’t leave me again, Buck seems to say. 

I’ll always come back to you , Eddie replies. 

“You’re awake. I’ll go get the nurse,” Buck finally says while squeezing his hand. Eddie secretly hopes Buck’s large hand never leaves. 

“J-just wait a minute. Wanna be with you for a little while longer,” Eddie croaks out. He didn’t realize he hadn’t spoken in a while. 

“I’ll be here, Eddie. But you need to get checked on,” Buck whispers back. 

It takes a minute for Eddie to realize the depth of the words being said. Perhaps he does. He blames it on the morphine. Thinks the drugs are messing with his emotions. Eddie knows the truth. He’s just afraid of the implications of it all - the Buck of it all. 

But he also knows Buck is right. He needs to get checked on. He still doesn’t know the extent of his injuries and how he made it out alive. Another close call and Christopher wasn’t even in the same state, didn’t have to hear about his only parent possibly dying. 

Oh God, Christopher. 

“Ch-Christopher, Buck. What -” Eddies tries to say, can’t quite get it all out. 

“Hey, hey, Eddie, Chris is fine. I called him and told him you were going to be fine. I figured I should tell him before Taylor has the chance,” Buck tells him, voice soft and comforting. 

“What does Taylor fucking Kelly have to do with this?” 

“She was there covering the story when yo- when your rope snapped. I guess it was some famous hiker that needed saving,” Buck explains. “Even if Chris didn’t see the news coverage, he has alerts to LAFD and LA dispatch.” 

“Is he- is he okay?” Eddie asks, and of course, he’s going to worry about his son, even though he is in the hospital. 

“Eds, Chris is fine. We should probably call him soon,” Buck tells him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.  

Eddie sinks more into the pillows. He doesn’t hear Buck move, just feels the cold air on his hand. He doesn’t hear the nurses or the doctors come in. He doesn’t feel anything at all. He’s numb to the pain and the explanation of how he’s alive. 

From what he remembers from the doctor’s rambling, Eddie is very lucky. The drop wasn’t that far, just 20 fucking feet . He has a broken leg and broken ribs. A dislocated shoulder. He was carried in with internal bleeding caused by a pneumothorax. His skull was cracked open. 

But he’s alive. 

And he doesn’t feel like it. 

Bobby walks in the door and sits where Buck had been. It feels wrong. This is not the man Eddie wants by his side. And that scares him. 

His captain doesn’t say anything. At least, not right away. Bobby looks at the machines and locks his gaze on Eddie, assessing his injuries. Eddie probably knows his captain is thinking about how he almost lost someone on his team…again. Eddie can kind of relate. 

“I called the Chief and told him I wanted new equipment. Those ropes should not have snapped like that. I’m sorry, Eddie,” Bobby finally says, forcing Eddie to look at him. 

“You couldn’t have known, Cap. I’ll be fine in a couple of months,” Eddie tells him. He feels his words are slurring. The pain medication was working. “Where’s Buck?” 

“I sent him home. He needed to shower and change. Buck will be back later today,” Bobby answers him. “He’s also the one who got to you first.” 

The words hit him like a train. He doesn’t remember the exact moment, too busy counting clouds. Eddie couldn’t tell Bobby that. He couldn’t tell Bobby about blue eyes and blonde curls being his last thoughts. 

“Eddie, if you have something you need to tell Buck, you should. You don’t need me to tell you how lucky you are to be able to walk away from this. You need to talk to him before it gets too much and you lose yourself,” Bobby tells him. “You don’t need to fall to be caught.” 

Eddie takes a shaky breath. He knows Bobby is right.  

He must have fallen asleep due to all the pain medications flowing in his veins. When he wakes again, Buck is back in his rightful place, sitting next to Eddie. 

“Hey,” is all Eddie can say. 

“Hi,” is all Buck can say. 

Eddie knows this is the moment. He should tell Buck how he feels, probably how he’s always felt. He thinks back to the grenade. The first time they actually connected. Remembers how Buck looked in the glow of the flames. How Buck trusted him to take out a live grenade. Remembers thinking this is how it’s supposed to feel . 

You could have my back any day. 

“Buck, I need to tell you something, and you can’t interrupt,” Eddie takes the biggest breath and lets it out. There’s no turning back now. Not that he wants to. 

“Okay, Eddie. Whatever you need,” Buck says easily, like breathing. 

Eddie looks into his striking, blue eyes. He looks at the birthmark and knows this is home. He knows, deep down, this is right and nobody can tell him differently. 

“When I was lying on the ground, I looked up at the clouds. I tried to stay awake as long as possible, just to see Chris again, to see the team, to see you . You were on my mind. You are always on my mind. I knew if I lost you, I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Another reason I can’t go to El Paso. The thought of you not being ten minutes from me kills me. I need you around, and I’m pretty sure you need me too,” Eddie finally says. 

“What are you saying, Eddie?” Buck whispers, hand intertwined with Eddies. He knows it belongs there forever. 

“That I love you, Evan. That’s what I am saying. And I’m sorry it took so long to tell you. That it almost took me dying again. But I love you, unconditionally,” Eddie says with love laced in his voice. 

He doesn’t get a reply right away. He thinks he screwed this up, ruined this relationship, losing another thing he loves. Instead, he sees Buck stand up and lean over. Eddie closes his eyes and feels hot breath against his lips. Next, he feels electricity race through his veins as Buck finally closes the gap. 

Eddie’s not a stranger to kissing. He’s kissed plenty of people in his time. But none of them compared to this . Buck is soft and careful–doesn’t want to hurt Eddie more. Frankly, Eddie could care less. He feels the butterflies in his stomach dance. He feels high on Buck’s lips. 

Buck pulls back to catch his breath. He really looks at Eddie, and Eddie can see in his eyes all the love this blonde-haired man has for him. It’s enough to make Eddie cry. 

“In case, it’s unclear, Eddie, I love you too,” Buck breathes into Eddie. 

Eddie knows this is it for him. He knows he’ll never find another. Perhaps, that’s all he’s ever wanted. All he’s ever needed. 

The window is clear as Eddie turns towards it. He needs to look away from Buck for a second–just a second–before he bursts. 

He sees clouds in the sky. He begins to count. 

One .