As it turns out whatever was happening with Buck would remain on hold as once they had returned from the call, each member had needed to strip out of their turn out gear and soiled uniforms to shower away the grime and ash. By the time the team had resurfaced from the locker rooms, B shift had already arrived and it was time for them to head home.
Eddie packs his belongings into a duffle bag at his side, exhausted with the effort of that last call and missing his partner more than ever while on duty. It seems everyone was coming to that realization as their absent team member began to twinge almost like a phantom limb while trying to recover from the latest call. Eddie bids his team mates goodbye with muttered parting words. No one takes offense as they are equally as tired.
Outside in the parking lot Eddie tosses his bag in the back of his truck when he notices the familiar presence of Buck's jeep pulling away from his standard spot. He cocks his head slightly at witnessing Buck's turn signal indicating a left turn as opposed to the right turn he always takes in order to get back to his apartment building. Eddie makes the quick decision to hop in his truck and follow Buck's jeep, allowing his curiosity to outweigh how tired he was feeling.
Eddie is following Buck for several minutes as he takes each turn heading toward the less favorable part of L.A. The streets become cluttered with trash and broken down vehicles as they pass house's and apartment buildings in varying states of disrepair. The further they get from the station and Buck's building the greater Eddie's confusion mounts. He mutters to himself as he follows the grey jeep, 'What the hell…'
Eventually he observes as Buck pulls into a side street parking area. He watches from afar as Buck climbs from his vehicle, collecting all of his belongings and walks towards a dilapidated building with what looks like 4 floors of apartments. He notes while watching Buck that he seems to be favoring his bad leg as if he had strained a muscle.
Once upon a time he wouldn't have to be wondering these things. He used to know Buck in and out and was especially aware of when he was hurting. Eddie's thoughts spiral as he goes over in his mind the events since the truck bombing. He hadn't been there enough for Buck when he was recovering and he felt bad about that. It was starting to become clear why Buck's course of action landed him in front of that sketchy lawyer. They had all but abandoned him to his recovery. Sure they each paid him occasional visits while he was off work, but to Buck those occasional visits must have just reinforced the growing distance between him and the team. The further Eddie gets on this train of thought the more he realizes that Buck's actions had not been out of malice but instead out of near desperation to get back to his family.
In return he had gotten all but excommunicated from said family.
Eddie puts his head in his hand scratching through his hair in a stressed movement at the budding realization. When he looks back at the clock he notes that he had spent about 10 minutes sitting dumbly in his truck outside of this building peering at it as if he would be able to see through the concrete.
After agonizing over it for a whole extra minute, Eddie finally pulls out his cell phone and types out a quick message to Buck's contact number before he can rethink the choice. He notes that the last text he had sent to Buck had been before the lawsuit and wonders how he had let the silence between them go on for this long.
Hey, you good?
He waits anxiously chewing his lip for Buck's reply. His anxiety mounts as he goes over the day's events and realizing that they hadn't really determined what happened earlier in the day when Buck was found almost non-responsive. They had let him just walk it off! Buck's response comes in quickly in hindsight.
Yeah, I just got home. Is Chris ok?
Eddie sits back stunned at both Buck's secret revelation and the fact that Buck thought the only reason Eddie would be reaching out to him was to use him to soothe Christopher.
Eddie taps in a quick response, unable to broach the topic of Buck's apparent move nor the heavy silence that has been hanging between them for the last two months. That's too heavy a conversation for them to have on the backside of a 24 hour shift.
Yeah, he's fine. I'll see you tomorrow?
Again Buck's response comes back quickly.
Yeah, wouldn't miss it. Night, Eddie.
Eddie reads the message several times over. Not because he didn't understand it but because Buck had again called him Eddie instead of his shorthand of Ed or Eds that only Buck had been able to get away with using. He sits in his car for what feels like hours before returning to the main road to get back to his house. He hears as he pulls away a soft tune playing from a violin on the breeze. He knows it's coming from Buck's new building and he can't help but feel it's coming from the man himself though he'd never known Buck to be a musician.
Who else around here could play something so sad but so beautiful at this time of night ?
Sitting in his new apartment, listening to the sounds of the neighbors shouting at each other for the fifth night in a row and the steady dripping coming from God knows where as he has torn that sink apart six ways from Sunday, Buck heaves a loaded sigh trying to decompress from the day's events.
It hadn't actually been that bad, he just ended up falling a bit behind due to his snooze fest.
You're such a fucking idiot! They saw you sleeping on the job! No wonder they can't stand having you around anymore.
Buck physically shakes off the thoughts and decides that some peanut butter toast would make an excellent dinner this evening before he tucks into bed. Just as he's pulling the peanut butter from his cupboard, he hears the signal from his phone indicating he had received a message.
It startled Buck into nearly dropping the peanut butter container on his toes as no one has messaged him in days, not since Maddie last checked in with him. He bends stiffly to pick up the jar of peanut butter, barely able to make it out in the bleary light from the candles on his counter illuminating the small kitchen. Once righted, he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his duffle bag. He's floored to see that the incoming message was from Eddie. .
For the briefest moment in the back of his mind he was worried that it was Eddie texting him to tell him that this was it, he was finally done with dealing with him. Buck wouldn't be able to bring himself to argue if that was the case. It wouldn't be all that surprising if one day any of his team or Maddie finally came to that decision. He was exhausting.
Buck again physically shakes himself out of his head and opens the message before his courage gives out.
Hey, you good?
Buck spends entirely too long staring at this little message trying to decipher what spurred Eddie into sending it. Flashing back to the confrontation in the grocery store a few weeks back, he comes to the conclusion that Chris might be having nightmares tonight and asking for him. His heart clenches, guilty at the reminder that he had failed the kid so much. He doesn't understand what Christopher likes about him so much when all he does is fall short when it comes to him. And everything really. His mind unhelpfully supplies this little addition to his trail of thoughts as he taps out a quick response to Eddie's query.
Yeah, I just got home. Is Chris ok?
Buck's anxiety climbs at the thought that Eddie or Christopher may be in trouble. He's nearly tearing back out of his place by the time Eddie's response comes through. Buck deflates as he reads it feeling stupid for thinking that Eddie would want anything from him after everything. He would only mess everything up like usual.
Yeah, he's fine. I'll see you tomorrow?
He nibbles on his toast as he sends out a last reply to Eddie thinking that he would like to take out his violin tonight. If anything just to drown out the neighbors but also to help get him out of his head this evening, It was becoming a rather dark place the longer he sat in the still and silence of his unfamiliar lodgings.
Yeah, wouldn't miss it. Night, Eddie.
With that Buck plugs his phone into the power bank he'd taken to using lately in light of his recent bout with the electricity company, hoping that it would allow for a full charge by the time he left for his shift the following day. He returns to his small pile of belongings stacked neatly in the corner near his makeshift bed and pulls out a sleek looking black case. Unclasping the hinges reveals a beautiful cream colored violin with bauernmalerei designs in gold and blue paint. His parents would slap his hands and remind him that this was a 100 year old instrument that he should not be playing with. His grubby hands weren't meant for the beauty that the instrument holds.
Buck probably wouldn't have dared to touch the instrument as a child but for the gentle influence of the elderly neighbor who used to invite him over for lessons. Rosa would make sure he had a decent lunch during his visits and taught him all she knew about the instrument among other things. She taught him Spanish and French, helped him with his math homework when his own parents were tired of him, and even went as far as to show up at some of his school events in the same way a grandmother would. In his youth that living room was a safe haven on the days when the Buckley household was less than welcoming to him.
When the woman died a year after Maddie moved away with Doug, her remaining family had knocked on their door and thrust the case into his hands with the words, 'Here, my mother always insisted that this go to the neighbor boy who visited her. The other two houses don't have any kids so I'm assuming that boy is you.' The woman seemed almost irritated that she had to deal with this.
He came to realize as he grew up that Rosa was probably as alone as he was even when surrounded by her family.
Buck stops suddenly, his lip trembling as the note cuts off with a harsh screech. He crumples at the realization that playing wasn't going to get him out of his mind tonight. Even as his resolve crumbles beneath him, he thinks to himself again - I can handle this. - so sure that his positive disposition would carry him through whatever came next. Just until he was back on his feet.