Word Count: 7,867
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with 911, Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

Warnings: This chapter deals with domestic violence and issues of consent. Please be gentle to yourself if these may be triggering.

He still feels like he's skimming clouds after spending so much time with Sophia and Marcus, the unexpected reunion providing warmth and smiles that he'd savoured. It had been difficult letting Sophia go at the end of the party, her flight early the next morning to return to Chicago precluding any further catching up, but he promised he'd call and she'd promised she'd FaceTime and there was, at least, a bridge between his sisters and him again.

Chris is almost asleep on his crutches as Eddie guides him through the house, wishing he could just carry him to bed but knowing that's a terrible idea that his physio would kill him for next week. He smooths the blankets over Chris once he's tucked in, watching the sweet smile on his cheeks fade as he drifts off to sleep.

"I love you more than the whole world," he whispers, nudging a kiss to his forehead before he limps out of the room to start his own preparations for bed.

It's not until he withdraws his phone from his pocket that he realises he has a text from Maddie. It's from hours ago and maybe it's too late to respond when it's after eleven.

Did you hear from Buck today? He didn't show up to TG dinner.

He's not sure why she expects Buck would have gotten in touch with him – maybe she thought they were on a better footing after his words at Halloween – but he hadn't heard from Buck since the kiss and he's not convinced that'll change any time soon.

no
was i meant 2 hear from him?

Her text comes through as he's brushing his teeth and he thumbs at the screen with his left hand.

I don't know.
I just thought I'd ask.
How was Abuela's?

i'll tell u tomorrow if you aren't working
we need sleep

I can read texts during my breaks.
Sleep sounds good.
Goodnight Eddie x

night xo

He's still floating, able to feel the embrace of his sister's arms around him when he folds into bed, and he can still feel the grip of Marcus holding him upright, the booming laugh as they swapped stories Eddie wasn't sure he'd ever be able to laugh at, but Maddie's text keeps him awake at least an hour longer than he'd expected.

If Buck hadn't shown up to Thanksgiving dinner, where was he?

There's a subtle change in his days now that he can message his sisters when he wants to complain about his leg hurting, or when he wants to ask them something he's partially remembered, or when they want to make him laugh so they send stupid pictures and memes. Contact with his sisters provides an outlet for his thoughts which is different to messaging Bobby or Maddie, because he doesn't fear them getting fed up with his shitty moods but he also knows they'll tell him to scrape his ass off the floor and curl his knee five more times like the physio said, and they also provide some much-needed levity when he's sour and furious that he can't remember something.

The 'something' that nags at him the most, and which neither Sophia or Ana are willing to provide answers to, is why Marcus thought he and Buck were ever together. He keeps circling back to Buck's words about loving him, about walking away, about the desperation in the kiss more than a month ago when he'd finally broken Buck's resolve, and he can't understand how or why he would have walked away. If Buck had meant that much to him, and if he'd meant that much to Buck, why had he left? It wasn't like he was afraid of being with a man. It might've been a lot of sneaking around in the military, a lot of meaningless hook-ups cloaked in shadows in Afghanistan, but he'd never put any sort of definitive label on his feelings and inclinations. It was more difficult after he was with Shannon, and especially after Chris had been born, but… Why had he walked away from Buck? A blind man would've been able to see he was sinfully attractive.

And then, tangentially related to his musings about his relationship with Buck, are Chris' words at Thanksgiving about Buck saving him and Cameron's to do with digging him out. Remembering he was a first responder is a start, and he resists the temptation to start Googling what might have happened that led to his injuries. Maybe it was like Buck making the news. Maybe it was like the tsunami. Maybe everyone is right – he's better off not remembering everything.

thank u for saving my life
i hope u r ok

The texts go unanswered but he feels better for sending them, and he's tempted to text Maddie to learn if she's heard from Buck in the ensuing week since Thanksgiving. Maybe he was just searching for some space, or maybe he'd gone on a trip with Cameron. If he's still working – Bobby had said something about moving to a new house – then maybe he has lots of shifts, or they've been slammed and Buck's exhausted. It's not Eddie's place to know, it's not his right to interfere. He suspects he's wrecked Buck's life enough.

It's Sunday afternoon when his phone rings and he frowns at ATHENA emblazoned across the screen.

"I'll be right back, bud," he promises, pausing the movie and hauling himself off the couch to provide some distance between small ears and important conversations. He taps at the phone as he hobbles towards the kitchen, figuring he may as well get some juice while he's up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Eddie." Athena sounds like she's in business mode and he pauses, brow scrunching as he glances towards the device on the side of his face. "Have you heard from Buck lately?"

His brow deepens and he forces his feet forward some more steps. "Why would you think I might've heard from him?"

"Something Maddie said, that you'd been in touch since you woke up."

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, searching for what to say that won't rat him out for monumentally screwing up. More than anything, he thinks he's selfishly protecting himself from the ire of the small group of friends he has. If something goes wrong, if that friendship disintegrates because they discover he'd broken Buck's heart, Eddie's not sure he'd feel enough ties to Los Angeles to stay. Would he go to Chicago to be closer to Sophia and Marcus? Or would that be painful too? Maybe he'd just pin a map to the wall and throw a series of darts at it.

"Eddie?"

"Sorry." He shakes away the distraction and tries to focus. "I… Um… No, I- I haven't heard from him since- Well, it was before Halloween," he admits, biting his lip to search through the many possible explanations. "We didn't talk at your party but, um… It was before that."

She hums and he leans against one of the kitchen counters, shifting his weight to reduce some of the pressure on his leg. "Alright. Thanks."

He hesitates, something itching beneath his skin that Athena is calling after Maddie had already expressed some concern, but he's too much of a coward to ask. He's too afraid to expose that he cares, that he's invested in Buck being okay, in case that leads to a whole lot of questions he can't answer. He doesn't know what they were like before when they were around their colleagues and friends. Had Maddie made the same assumptions as Marcus?

It dawns on him that maybe that's why she knew where Abuela lived – that Buck had shared the information with her. More than anything, it adds to his bewildered feeling of just how merged his life was with Buck. Maddie knew his Abuela's address, and his sister and brother-in-law thought they were dating and in love. Had Sophia met Buck? So far, he hadn't been able to get a read from any of her cagey text messages.

"Let me know if he gets in touch, alright?" Athena adds and he nods instinctively, because he's more afraid of Athena being pissed off at him than almost anyone else except maybe Buck's sister. He's not sure what Maddie would be like if she got mad but he can imagine what his sisters had been like when Shannon had left him with Christopher.

"Sure."

The call disconnects and Eddie looks at his phone, switching to his message chain with Buck and skimming through some of the words like he's meant to find a clue in them, like maybe they're an acrostic poem spelling out a very long hint of where he is or what's going on.

"Dad?"

Right. Juice. Movie. Chris.

"Yeah, bud. Just getting some juice!"

He shoves his phone in his pocket and gathers two plastic cups, carefully manoeuvring them with the crutches but knowing that at least if he dropped anything, he'd just need a mop. Chris is right where he left him, fingers bunching into his shirt.

"Dad?"

He lowers the two glasses to the coffee table before sitting, opening his arm to Chris who immediately snuggles back into his side. "Yes?"

"Do you ever think you'll stop being sad?"

He blinks at his son in stunned surprise. "What- I- What makes you- I'm not sad," he says but Chris looks up at him, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"It's okay. I know you don't remember lots." Chris pats his chest, his cheeks dimpled with a smile. "But you don't have to be sad about it."

"I…" He gazes at his son in consternation and he's vaguely terrified at just how easy it is for his son to see through him. He brushes a kiss to Chris' forehead, cups the back of his head in gentle fingers and rubs his thumb over the swell of his cheek. He debates keeping these parts of him hidden, shielding Chris from his thoughts, but maybe his son needs to know. Maybe he's been trying to pretend they're a family when the reality is they're like two strangers cohabitating. "Sometimes I feel I should remember more, though. You deserve a father that remembers."

Chris' brows dip into a frown, his lips pursing together around a pout. "You're my Dad."

"I know, buddy, but-"

"I love you," Chris continues and Eddie decides to shut up, smoothing his thumb some more over the soft skin of his cheek. "It doesn't matter what you remember, Dad. It matters that you're here."

Eddie feels the burn of tears as he tucks his arm tighter around Chris' shoulders, nuzzles kisses all over the top of his head. "I'm so lucky I have you."

Chris giggles, fingers wiggling against Eddie's chest. "Can we go back to watching the movie now?"

He asks it like he hasn't just left Eddie on the precipice of emotionally unravelling over how gorgeous and sweet his son is. Regardless of if he stays in LA or not, he's taking Chris with him. The thought of leaving Chris with his parents in El Paso… It doesn't even bear thinking about.

"Of course, kiddo." He squeezes Chris and then gathers the remote to press 'play' again. He strokes his fingers through Chris' hair while they watch, marvelling at his son for so many reasons he couldn't begin to name them. His heart simply wants to burst with love and affection.

His phone buzzes across the bedside table and he stifles a groan. For once, he feels like he'd been sleeping fairly dreamlessly and the disturbance is very unappreciated. His hand darts out from under the pillow, groping and fumbling for the irritating device and swiping blindly at the screen when it's too bright for his bleary eyes to look at.

"H'lo?"

There's a series of stuttered breaths in his ear and even though his focus is still tipping between the balance of sleep and wakefulness, he feels concern fizz down his spine that helps scatter a few of the cobwebs from the recesses of his mind.

"Ed…" The small whimper of his name is almost lost among the panting breaths, and Eddie's heart clenches as he grips the phone against his ear tighter. "I w-woke you up- I- I'm- I'm s-sorry- I d-didn't mean to, I j-just-"

Any remaining blurry veil between the dream and reality lifts rather rapidly when he hears the significant distress crackling over the line. He slowly sits up in bed, trying to get his brain to work faster so he doesn't make a mistake in handling this conversation. "Buck? Hey, slow down for a-"

"I should g-go. I- I d-didn't- I'm s-sor-"

"Evan," he pleads, rubbing a hand over his face to increase his alert level and terrified by Buck getting in touch when it's- He squints at the clock on his table. 1:12. Jesus. Alright. Focus. "Stay with me, okay? What's wrong? Where are you?"

The silence that greets him is deafening. He'd start panicking that Buck had hung up if he couldn't still hear the erratic breathing. It's not comforting to hear how badly Buck is struggling for breath, but he hasn't hung up. That seems important right now.

"I'm here, Ev, but where are you? I'll meet you anywhere," he insists and the hitched half-breaths add the tiniest element of a sob to it. He's fairly certain that his heart rips free of his chest and pools at his feet because this is a side he's not seen or heard from Buck since he woke up. Too often, it's been Eddie falling apart in Buck's arms and he feels woefully out of his depth. Most of his military training wasn't even useful for navigating these sorts of conversations. "C'mon, Buck. Please tell me where you are?"

"I-" Buck sniffles, coughs around another series of breaths. "You- Y-Your- Your d-driveway…"

Eddie's already on his feet before he's made the conscious decision to move, throwing on his bedroom light and the hallway light even though it dazzles his eyes to have so many lights on. He needs the lights on, though, so that he doesn't stub a toe or walk into something Christopher has left in the corridor. More than anything, he needs it to be a beacon to entice Buck inside. He flicks the lock on his front door and opens it, spying the crumpled shape folded into the driver's seat of the Jeep parked behind his truck. His heart lurches in his chest and he ends the call, discarding his phone to the table by the door.

There's a cool breeze and the thin cotton of his t-shirt provides useless protection but he can't be bothered putting on shoes or obtaining a jacket or changing. It meant wasting time, taking his eyes off Buck, and Buck might be gone by the time he was better dressed. He descends the porch steps carefully, moving slowly towards the car because he didn't grab one of the crutches, or the walking stick the physiotherapist had insisted he use, and his leg was out of the brace so he could sleep without as much discomfort. Once he's hobbled close enough to the Jeep, he can see pale fingers clutching a dark rectangle and he wonders if Buck's even realised he'd ended the call.

"Buck?" he calls, moving towards the passenger side and rapping lightly against the glass. Frightened eyes peer from behind trembling hands, the streetlight washing all the colour from Buck's face. "Hey, man. Do… D'you wanna come inside?"

Buck's eyes swivel from Eddie to the house and back again. He looks like a deer in the headlights, which seems an unfortunate comparison considering his nickname is Buck. He makes no discernible attempt to move though and Eddie bites his lower lip, weighing up his limited repertoire of options.

"Or I can join you in your car, if you want?" Eddie suggests, watching Buck through the window and calculating what he could do if Buck wouldn't open the doors. Maybe he shouldn't have discarded the call so easily, but he can't think about that now because he's more fixated on what's brought Buck to his house in the early hours of the morning in such a state.

Buck's eyes shift towards the house again and Eddie takes that as a sign of what he wants but isn't yet allowing himself to have. Chewing at his lip, wondering if it's entirely the wrong decision to make, Eddie retreats to the porch steps and settles himself on one that's high enough that he can stretch his leg in front of him and waits. He's not dressed to wait in these conditions, and he might have to wait until the sun comes up, and by then he might be a block of ice, but he'll wait. He'll wait as long as it takes.

He waits probably close to twenty minutes before he hears the click of Buck's doors unlocking, the clumsy fumble of unsteady fingers on the handle as he gets the door open. It takes every ounce of Eddie's willpower to stay where he is instead of standing, instead of moving towards Buck and folding him into a hug. He can't afford to spook him and scare him back into the car now. Not when he's climbing out and shutting the door behind him as quietly as he can on the empty street, shoving hands inside the pockets of the overly large, dark hoodie that he's wearing with the fabric up and shielding his head. He looks strange in the outfit, smaller inside the ocean of fabric, more like a scared little boy than the capable and tall man Eddie knows he is.

"Hey," he tries again, gentle but encouraging when Buck's swollen eyes meet his. "Can… Can we go inside before I freeze?"

Buck visibly hesitates but his eyes also skip over Eddie's frame, presumably noting the t-shirt and sweatpants and realising that being cold is a given when it's the end of the first week of December. He manages a small incline of his head and Eddie stands slowly, gripping the bannister of his stairs to steady himself, resisting the urge to approach Buck in favour of retreating into his house. He keeps looking back at Buck, checking that the other man is following him. Even though Buck's obviously distressed, Eddie still hears Buck slide the lock of the door into place while Eddie uses the wall to balance his movements through the house.

He extinguishes the hallway light in favour of one of the floor lamps in his family room, softening the harsh glare slightly as he sits on the armchair and waits for Buck's shuffling footsteps to join him. The other man surveys the room like he's never seen it before and then sinks onto the empty couch, folding his right leg into his chest and wrapping his shaking arms around it.

"I can make tea? Or hot chocolate? There'll be coffee too if…" Eddie's words trail away when Buck shakes his head, eyes staring at the television but seeing something else entirely. It's a look he recognises, one he's seen in Chris and Maddie's faces, one he saw in Marcus' only recently when they'd talked about some of the horrible parts of life. He wonders if maybe Buck had a nightmare about the tsunami or the truck and had unravelled so thoroughly that he'd turned up here, of all places, for help.

It's at least another ten minutes before Buck's tremulous, "Will you hold me for a bit?" fills the void between them. Eddie looks up from where he's been examining the scratches and grooves in the coffee table, trying to grant Buck the silence and the space to process whatever was flashing through his head and simply just…being there. Buck still looks raw and rattled when he glances, more afraid than Eddie's ever seen, and his blue eyes are red and his face is flushed and he looks nowhere near Eddie.

"Yeah?" He's terrified that getting too close to Buck will drive him away again, send him scuttling back to his Jeep and down the road, but Buck gives a jerky sort of nod which makes fresh tears dribble down his cheeks. Eddie carefully shifts from the armchair to the couch, resituating himself beside Buck. His fingers barely graze Buck's shoulder when he flinches and Eddie freezes, hand hovering just above Buck's arm. "Are you sure you-"

"P-Please, Eddie? I n-need you t-to- to-"

"Okay, okay. I've got you," he soothes, because even though there's an obvious line of pain along Buck's brow which makes Eddie doubt this is actually what Buck wants, Eddie's not going to deny Buck anything right now. He circles one arm around Buck's back, the other folding around his coiled leg. He has to shift a little to get comfortable when his own leg is hardly cooperative with the idea of bending but eventually he has Buck leaning into him, one hand tangled into Buck's hair to cradle his head against Eddie's shoulder. "This- Is- Is this okay?"

Buck nods, a fresh sob spilling past his lips. Eddie instinctively tightens his grip, determined to shield Buck from everything and everyone if he must, and Buck whimpers, a hand tangling into Eddie's t-shirt to cling to him.

"I've got you, alright?" He brushes his lips against the top of Buck's head because he's never seen this side of Buck before and it scares him. Yet it feels instinctively okay to make promises, to assure Buck that he'll be safe here. Maybe that's what Sophia and Marcus had been alluding to at Thanksgiving. Maybe holding each other through all the shitty times had been how he'd survived in LA for so long, because right now he's willing to make the solemnest vows to never let Buck go if that's what it takes before the other man feels like he can stand on his own again. "I'm not going anywhere, querido. Take as long as you need."

The words seem to crack something inside Buck until there are more pitiful sobs, interspersed with heaved, desperately broken breaths, and several miserable whimpers, and a lot of sniffling. Eddie ensures his hold is firm although he has to loosen it a few times when Buck makes noises like he's in pain, and he skims his fingers through Buck's hair from time to time, whispering reassurances that Buck's safe here, and he's okay, and he's not alone, and every so often reminding him to try to inhale and exhale with some sort of regularity.

He wouldn't bother guessing how much time has passed before he starts to feel like Buck's cried himself out, the sag of body weight into him which is more than just for comfort. Eddie's hand in Buck's hair shifts to his jaw, tilting his head slightly to look at his tear-stained face and the hollow red eyes. It's the eyes that scare him more than anything. He's seen Buck anxious, and he's seen Buck afraid, but he's never seen him looking so utterly hopeless and defeated before.

"How're you doing?" He's still no closer to understanding any of the breakdown but he wonders if he can press gently enough and get some answers.

Buck swallows, his lips hesitating around words, and Eddie wonders why. Fear? Nerves? Pain? Fatigue? He knows he absolutely messed up with kissing Buck but had he messed up at other times which made Buck feel like he couldn't talk about what was wrecking his mind?

"I- I'm s-sorry I w-woke y-you," Buck mumbles, his voice hoarse and his eyes dropping.

Eddie gives the slightest shake of his head. "Don't be silly." He kisses Buck's forehead like he would for Chris after a nightmare, fingertips tracing over the birthmark at the corner of his eye and above his brow. "My door will always be open to you, Buck. No matter what, you should know that." The slightest of smiles tugs at his lips before he can stop it. "Even if it's not open, you have a key."

His awful attempt at humour falls flat because Buck's lips don't even twitch. He seems to use it as an excuse to burrow further into his arms though, which is at least better than tearing himself away. "I- I'm s-sorry…"

"I don't mind being woken up, Buck. I never will, okay?" He strokes his fingers back through Buck's hair, knowing that the compact way he's folded his long limbs must cause him some sort of pain.

Buck's breath continues to escape him in broken shudders but Eddie puts up with the silence and the uncomfortable twist in his back because Buck's shown up, actually reached out when he wasn't okay, and after Eddie's epic fuck-up of almost six weeks ago, he knows that's…not only a huge change, but also speaks to how monumentally bad whatever Buck has been through that he turned up here of all places. Eddie's certain he doesn't deserve to be the one comforting Buck, but he'd never turn him away either. The fragile friendship he thought he'd severed was still far too delicate to do anything but follow Buck's lead.

"Hey." He loosens one arm so he can place his hand over Buck's shaking fingers, thumb brushing against the skin. He has so many questions but if Eddie knows anything about Buck, he knows he'll quickly crawl into himself and refuse to provide any answers if he's not careful. "Do- D'you want to try to get some sleep, maybe? I'm sure I have some clothes you could change into."

He notes the tension that returns to Buck's muscles but he refrains from commenting on it, instead waiting for Buck to process the suggestion and make a decision.

"I- I d-don't want to…to i-impose like that…"

Eddie lightly squeezes his hand and the lack of reference to 'going home', the lack of need to leave, isn't lost on him when he's trying to grapple with everything. "You are never an imposition to me, Buck. I'll sit here until the sun comes up if that's what you need right now, but I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to let go."

It takes at least a minute before Buck nods, separating his fingers just enough that Eddie can slide his into the gaps and hold on. He takes that as a good sign. He takes that as Buck accepting the offer.

He nuzzles against Buck's head as he holds him and waits, using his palm against Buck's back to note the way his heartbeat and breathing gradually slow into a rhythm that almost matches Eddie's. And it might be early in the morning – easily after two by now – but he's in no rush to return to bed or sleep. He knows that whatever has shaken Buck so badly that he's turned up like this, will take time to pull out of him. It will certainly take Buck time to determine what he wants and even longer to actually ask for it.

So he waits, and he concentrates on his breathing, and he listens to Buck's raspy breaths in case it sounds like he's on the verge of spiralling again, and he stays still and as calm as he can given the circumstances that he doesn't understand.

"C-Can… Can I…use y-your shower?" Buck asks eventually, sounding so small and vulnerable and breakable. Eddie almost considers saying no just because he doesn't want to let Buck out of his sight but that's an entirely different issue. Buck might sound almost like a distraught child, but he's not. And Eddie has to be able to trust Buck.

"Of course you can." He squeezes his fingers against Buck's. "I'll get you a change of clothes?"

Buck nods and Eddie doesn't miss that he shivers when their hands slide apart. Eddie pads to his bedroom, not fretting over his decisions for too long as he rummages for some clothes he thinks will fit Buck. There's a navy t-shirt that he thinks is probably wide enough to fit across the broader shoulders and a pair of sweatpants that have enough elastic to stretch around Buck's waist.

The bathroom door is already closed, a thin strip of light beneath it, by the time he exits his room. He leaves the clothes on the floor in front of the door and knocks lightly.

"Clothes are right outside," he says, keeping his voice low because he doesn't want to disturb Chris. He can only imagine the million questions his son would have. "Extra towels are under the sink. I- I'll be in my room, okay? Take as long as you need."

He doesn't expect a response, nor does he receive one, so he starts to return to his room before remembering he left his phone by the door. He shuffles through the corridor to collect it and then finally sits on his bed, running a hand over his leg to eke out some of the coils of pain and discarding his phone to the bedside table. He can hear the rattle of his pipes so he knows when the water is running, which is how he also knows when the shower turns off. He calculates the time it would take Buck to obtain a towel and dry off, and he's reasonably accurate when he hears the bathroom door open and just as quickly close again as Buck collects the clothes.

He's completely inaccurate in his guess about how long it takes for the door to open again, and he knows far too much time has passed. He almost decides to stand, to move back to the bathroom and check if everything's okay, but he reminds himself about space and boundaries and forces himself to stay still.

When he finally hears the click of the door and the burst of light in the corridor vanishes, he sits up straighter and holds a pillow to his chest. Buck's feet are slow, the whisper of skin on the floorboards betraying his uncertainty as he approaches Eddie's room.

Eddie's not exactly sure what he'd expected from Buck's uncertainty but his breath still stops, his muscles locking him into place, and his eyes widen when Buck inches into the room. Blue eyes are fixed on the floor, the t-shirt a little too tight around the biceps and the sweatpants several inches short at the ankle, but that's only a blip on the radar of what he's really focusing on.

"Buck…" He discards the pillow, urging his legs to stay still even when all he wants to do is rush over to Buck and wrap him in an armour of blankets. But he's afraid he'll scare Buck into a full-blown retreat. "Cariño, what happened?"

The dark fabric of the shirt across Buck's shoulders against the pale walls betrays that he's shaking again as he hovers just inside the door, his arms folded around his waist like he's attempting to make himself smaller and smaller. "It- It looks w-worse than it i-is."

And Eddie doubts that because the bruises on Buck's upper arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of the shirt Eddie's loaned him, look absolutely awful. It's the spots around his neck that Eddie knows are definitely not hickeys which are even more terrifying. He gives up his attempt at staying still to rise slowly, creeping towards Buck with his hands raised to limit how threatening he might appear to someone that's clearly had a traumatising night.

"Will you let me check you over?" he pleads, because his brain is screaming and flashing warning lights behind his eyes and he needs to silence it if he has any hope of settling his panic.

"I- I'm o-okay," Buck mumbles but he doesn't seem as certain as Eddie would like, and it's not even remotely convincing when he's standing there looking like that. "I- I just…b-bruise easier, Eddie. It- It's not-"

"Evan." He pauses in front of Buck with at least three feet separating them, eyes tracing over the smears of colour on his neck that are fingerprint-shaped. The urge to protect like he would with Christopher takes his breath away, and he'll absolutely destroy whoever has hurt Buck like this. "Will you let me check you over, please?"

Buck makes a small shrugging motion that seems to be an uncomfortable acceptance, so Eddie closes the distance between them with a final couple of slow steps. He starts with examining Buck's arms because that seems to be the least scary option of where to touch. Buck tenses anyway when he lifts the sleeves, and it's easy to establish that they're hand-sized marks when Eddie's fingertips skate over them.

"Are there others?" he whispers and he sees the way Buck's eyes shutter closed, the way his chest rises with a hesitating breath. Eddie can tell he doesn't want to say yes but he also doesn't want to lie. He barely restrains his sigh of pain and fury at whoever has broken such a beautiful man like this and he's determined to put him back together again, whatever it takes. "Can I see, querido?"

Buck picks at the hem of the shirt, pulling it aside to reveal the angry splotches of colour that stain his waist. Eddie's afraid to touch them when Buck's trembling so badly, so he simply lets his hands hover over the radiating flares around Buck's side and decides that the knowledge that there are more bruises has to be enough for now. The bruises don't look bad enough for any ribs to be broken so he nods.

"Okay. Thank you for letting me see," he murmurs, and Buck's quivering fingers drop the fabric to cover the bruises. Eddie turns his attention to Buck's neck and he understands now why Buck had been wearing the hoodie with the fabric over his head. It had concealed all this far too well. "I'm going to check your neck now, okay?"

Buck's throat bobs and he gives a tiny dip of his head. Even so, he flinches when Eddie cradles his jaw and grazes one of the spots on his throat. Eddie thinks it's more from fear than actual pain but it still tears him apart. He lets his instincts take over as he checks for possible spinal injuries and damage to Buck's throat, years of training in the military and whatever he'd done as a first responder making it feel almost natural. He follows the paths of colour around Buck's neck, tracing an index finger down the column of his throat to where the blotches of colour disappear beneath the collar of the shirt. Buck whimpers, tension invading his whole body when Eddie peels the collar aside and spies more splashes of colour spread across his shoulder.

"Evan-"

"Don't," Buck pleads, his blue eyes opening and revealing his terror.

The look breaks the remaining pieces of Eddie's heart that he'd been holding together with tape and string, because his horror at what has already bloomed on Buck's skin pales in comparison to the look that now fills Buck's eyes. It's worse than the emptiness of earlier, it's worse than the crying. The unadulterated fear makes Eddie's fragile self-control feel like it's splintered.

Buck visibly works to keep himself under control, his lower lip wobbling as he gazes at Eddie with unrestrained anxiety. "I- I'm okay. Nothing- Nothing happened, it- it's- They're just…bruises."

And Eddie doubts that it's nothing too because these bruises are clearly hands, and they've grabbed at Buck's waist and his upper arms and his fucking throat and that's not nothing. They aren't just bruises. He wants to growl about it, wants to ball up his fists and argue, because these speak of something that make him want to pick up the phone to call Athena immediately. But if he gets angry, he knows Buck will flee and he can't freak him out like that. Not when he chose to come here. Not when he's let Eddie place hands on vulnerable places.

He forces the fury away and keeps his fingers light, like handling a baby bird, against Buck's jaw. He stares into the pinked eyes of someone that's obviously frightened, of someone who has gone through a whole lot and resolves that if Buck is here, allowing himself to be seen like this, and held, and cared for, and after everything – after all the pain Eddie has inflicted on him during the past year or more – he can't add more to whatever Buck's been through tonight. He'll burn that bridge in the morning.

"Okay," he relents, brushing his thumb over Buck's cheek when a fresh tear spills free. "I'm here though, okay? I'll listen if you want to tell me."

Buck nods and Eddie guides him to the bed, not entirely sure what they're planning on doing, but Buck seems to have that figured out when he crawls under the blankets and tugs Eddie against him to make Buck the little spoon. Buck's quivering fingers curl around Eddie's arms and Eddie can't help but press a soft kiss to the back of Buck's shoulder, grateful he's able to provide comfort like this when Buck must be internally disintegrating.

"You're safe here, cariño," he promises, leeching a little more tension from Buck's shoulders when he maintains the embrace. "I'm not going anywhere."

He's almost certain Buck's deliberately trying to match his breathing so, for a while, Eddie focuses on keeping his inhales and exhales even. He tries to ensure his arms remain gentle around Buck's frame, not wanting to cinch too tight that it hurts or makes Buck panic that he's being restricted. It doesn't matter that it's the middle of the night, or early in the morning, because when Buck is very evidently not okay, Eddie is wide awake. He's cataloguing every action, every word, every detail that might be required to recall later. He's reconciling everything he's learned and knows about Buck with the version of him that is shuddering in his embrace. He wonders if he shouldn't have agreed to the shower so readily, if there's important evidence swirled down the drain.

Buck releases a breath past his lips, fingers tightening against Eddie's skin for a moment before they relax again. "Cam… Cam f-found out I'd kissed you," he whispers after at least half an hour of laying in silence. Eddie tries to not instinctively curl his arms tighter, tries to keep the burst of fury that erupts within him contained because he would wreck that little fuck. "He- He's always been…jealous, I guess? Or insecure? But it- This was- It was different…"

Eddie presses his palm gently against Buck's chest, feeling the erratic thump of the heartbeat beneath his palm. "Different how?"

Buck lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "He just- He got…handsy, I guess. Kept- Kept saying that I- I was tainted and needed to- t-to remember I was w-with him, no matter h-how much I m-might've wanted to be w-with you and I…" There's a small shake of Buck's head, a shiver rippling down his spine that makes Eddie tuck closer to him. "I froze? I- I don't know. I just- I d-didn't want to and when I shut down, he- he got more…pushy."

Eddie's lips find the back of Buck's shoulder again, decorating a small circle of kisses around the joint and across the wing of his shoulder blade. It helps him keep his breathing somewhat steady because he knows Buck has to be using his touch or his breathing as some sort of anchor amid his turmoil but fuck if he's not feeling like there's steam coming out of his ears as Buck talks. The anger that ignites within him is enough to make him grit his teeth together. He'd track Cameron down and rip his arms from his sockets so he could never hurt anyone again.

"I- I promise you though that- that nothing… Nothing like that actually happened, Eddie," Buck sniffles, fingers rubbing at Eddie's arms like he's trying to offer reassurance or maybe he senses the way Eddie's arms are infused with the urge to destroy. "But he- When he r-realised I wasn't…um…responding, he- he started asking all these…these q-questions about…about m-me, and you, and it- It turned into d-demands and he was- He g-grabbed at my arms to shake me, wanting answers, and I- I just blurted out that I- I didn't l-love him…"

Eddie closes his eyes as the swell of feelings bubble inside him. Even if Buck hates him for it later, even if it's the worst sort of betrayal of his trust, he has to get in touch with Athena about this. He can't let this go. He can't just ignore this. He can't let Buck go back there and be hurt again. Not when he knows Maddie's gone through something similar. Not when Maddie and Athena had expressed concern that they hadn't heard from Buck in a while. If he knew about this and kept it quiet, there'd be no forgiveness. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't keep Buck safe.

"He- He was…w-was so m-mad and I…" One of Buck's hands releases its grip on Eddie's arm, lifting to his neck and it's enough of an explanation about what happened next. "I- My time in basic helped and I- got h-him off and I- I just took off. I d-didn't know where I could go because it was such a- an awful hour to…to flee."

Eddie ponders Buck's reference to 'basic', filing that away against all the other parts about Buck he doesn't remember or know, and lightly smooths his palm against Buck's chest. "I'm so grateful you felt you could come here."

Buck sniffles. "I didn't- I didn't know where else to…to g-go… M-Maddie would probably end up h-having flashbacks and Bobby would storm around and Hen… H-Hen would probably watch me drink t-tea and cry and I… I didn't want to…to be a-alone. I needed… I n-needed this, to…to just be held and…" Buck's fingers curl back around Eddie's arms and Eddie's pretty sure he'll never let go, not for anyone, not for anything. Not if that's what Buck needs of him right now. "I'm not- I won't go back, okay? I promise. I- He- He's never been like that before but I'm not s-stupid. I know it's an escalation and- and I can't. I was- I was just so s-scared..."

Eddie cinches his arms a little tighter, pressing more kisses across his shoulders even when he feels Buck twitch against the bruises that have to sting. "You always have a place here, querido," he murmurs, shifting his hand against Buck's chest to find his hand and twist their fingers together. "If you get scared or I make you feel unsafe tonight, tomorrow, whenever, just say so, okay? I don't want you feeling afraid because I'm holding you too tight or doing something that frightens you."

Buck's lips ghost over the knuckles of his hand before it tucks against his chest. "I- I've never felt unsafe with you, Eddie," he admits, so quiet it's like he's afraid to say it out loud.

"My offer is always there, okay? I want you to feel protected here." He noses at the nape of Buck's neck and kisses that too, not exactly sure if it's okay to be this affectionate or if Buck will panic at that too, but it helps reassure the angry monster inside him. Buck hasn't given any sort of indication it's not okay. If anything, he seems to lean into it a little more every time. Even so… "Is this… Is it okay? To hold you like this? Because I- I never want you to feel like you can't come here or that I- that it's too much."

Buck hiccups, his grip tightening around Eddie's hand like he senses Eddie's moments away from tearing them apart with his own insecurities. "I- I thought you- A-After last time, maybe you w-wouldn't-"

"Hey, no." He shakes his head, tucks as close as he possibly can until the only thing truly separating them are some thin layers of fabric. He can feel every curve of muscle and ridge of bone against him and he will protect every inch of Buck if he must. He's killed before, he can do it again. "Kissing you was completely on me, but this is different. This has to be different. You'll always have a place here, Buck. You'll always be welcome and this is always a safe place. But I- I don't want you to be uncomfortable, alright?"

Buck starts shaking again with barely-repressed sobs. "That's not- I- That's not the- the time that I m-meant…"

"Oh sweetheart…" It's only obvious when Buck spells it out for him – he'd walked away last time Buck had wanted something from him. He could've walked away this time. He could've shut the door in Buck's face and told him to leave. He could've sent him away. There's no way in hell he would have done that but Buck was obviously so frightened by the possibility that it fractures something else inside Eddie's chest. "Never. Never again am I walking away from you, okay? You've got me, whatever you need. I fucked up, I know that, and I will apologise to you ten times a day until you know it." He squeezes Buck's hand tightly, wishes he could crush him in the tightest possible cuddle but he knows that will hurt too much. "Right now, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You came here to be held and I won't let you go."

Buck's trembling turns into proper sobs and Eddie lets him cry, occasionally offering hushed reassurances of safety and care and warmth and protection and love and anything else he can think of until Buck's thoroughly depleted and sagging into Eddie's grip.

"Rest, cariño," he encourages, rubbing his thumb over Buck's knuckles. "Rest, and in the morning, you can cuddle Chris until his light helps banish some of your clouds."

Buck's tension gradually lessens and Eddie knows when he's finally asleep. He waits a while longer, doesn't want to move and disturb Buck in such a way that he wakes again, but he eventually successfully manages to release his grip just enough to send a quick text to Athena and flick off the light. Buck's breathing is slow and regular, though a little crackly through his raw throat and blocked nose, but Eddie's thankful he's finally getting some sleep and can only hope it's not riddled with terrifying sights.

Eddie's not sure he wants to sleep, not sure he trusts himself to close his eyes and find out Buck's left while he dozes, but he's so tired that his eyes lapse closed anyway. His thoughts meander towards a silent thank you to whoever continues watching over Buck, whoever continues to keep him alive, and feels a tear pool against the bridge of his nose when he thinks about how Buck trusted him after the night he's had.

He'll never doubt the bond he must have had with Buck ever again.

~TBC~