Summary: Buddie fic. Established relationship. Tragedy strikes the 118, and they are forced to bury one of their own. Eddie struggles to deal with the grief but fate brings him across the path of someone, suffering memory loss, who looks a little too much like Buck. Can his heart take the possibility of losing Buck twice?
Disclaimer: I do not own 9-1-1 or anything associated with the show.
Author Notes: I was asked to write a fic where I killed Eddie or Buck. This is as close as I could come.
If you are not in a good headspace right now, you may want to bookmark this fic and return to it later. There is a lot of angst and heavy material and your mental health is important to me, so please remember to look after yourself.
Set after season 6.
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Chapter 1
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It was a Tuesday. Just a regular day. Nothing about it could have ever prepared Eddie for what was waiting for him on the last call of the day. Nothing. And yet, despite it all, he felt like he should have known. He should have been able to do something to prevent it.
"You okay, Diaz?" Bobby asked, brow furrowing at Eddie as he passed him by.
Eddie pulled his gaze up from his phone and cleared his throat. He had been sat at the table in the loft for the past half hour or so, passing the time until their next call. "Yeah, it's just…"
Bobby paused before he could reach the kitchen area, turning to look at Eddie fully, head tilting to the side slightly in a prompt for Eddie to continue.
"I got a message from the school," Eddie continued, holding his phone up and leaning back in his chair. "They said Buck never showed to pick Christopher up."
"I'm sure he's just running late," Bobby answered, and despite his logic and small comforting smile, Eddie was sure he could hear a hint of concern. "Have you tried calling him?"
"Straight to voicemail."
That was when the smile on Bobby's face flickered, frown taking hold. After all, they both knew that wasn't like Buck. Buck, who had taken the day off so he could take Chris to the zoo after school because he had had to work late the previous week and wanted to make it up to him. Buck, who had sent photos earlier that morning of the pancakes he had made for him and Chris after Eddie had already left for work.
Bobby didn't get the chance to say anything else on the matter, and Eddie didn't have the chance to dwell on it. The alarm rang loudly, announcing another emergency that needed their attention, and they were both moving. Eddie tucked his feelings away for now, sending Carla a quick message to ask if she could pick Chris up, just in case Buck's jeep had broken down somewhere he didn't have any signal… because that was the only explanation Eddie could come up with. It was the only explanation he allowed himself to think about.
"Okay, we've got a pretty bad pile up waiting for us," Bobby began, as the engine hurtled through the streets toward their destination. "According to dispatch, we've got at least one car on fire, so we've got to be quick but cautious."
"What the plan, Cap?" Eddie asked, pushing everything else aside to focus solely on what was ahead of them.
"We won't be the only ones on scene, but we'll be the first, so I want you to focus on getting that fire out and getting the area cleared. We can't do anything to help anyone if we have a ticking timebomb ready to blow up in our faces at any moment."
Except, it wasn't that simple. It never was. The pile up was on a narrow stretch of freeway, making accessibility an immediate problem, and amongst the centre of it all was the tell-tale smoke and flames of the car that was on fire. It wouldn't matter whether they came at it from the front or the back, getting to those flames was going to be an issue, and with the sun beating down on them, the scorching heat was only going to make things worse and fast.
They were moving before the engine had even come to a complete stop. Once their feet hit the ground, they began grabbing the gear they needed, Bobby calling out commands as they went. Eddie was sent scrambling ahead, finding a safe passage through the wreckages of the cars, finding the best way to lay the hoses whilst also attempting a quick assessment of any other casualties that would need immediate help. But his priority was the car on fire, and making sure no one was trapped inside, or nearby.
He could see the flames clearly as he climbed over the hood of red Corvette, placing his hand against the window of a station wagon to steady himself. He was aware of the others behind him, calling out to each other.
"Almost there, Cap," he shouted, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder to Bobby, before rounding another car and locking sight with the car on fire.
No, not just any a car.
A Jeep.
Buck's Jeep.
For a moment, his world froze. His breath left him, his chest tight.
"Buck!"
The name tore from his throat without him even realising, his movements becoming desperate and clumsy. Between the smoke and flames and direction the Jeep was facing, he couldn't see inside. He couldn't see Buck. He couldn't…
But he caught sight of movement through it all, as the flames rose dangerously. The flames that were taking over the Jeep. The smell of gasoline was thick in the air, but Eddie didn't care. He couldn't. Buck was right there… he was right there.
Another step, and Bobby grabbed his arm. He tore free, even though he already knew why Bobby had tried to stop him. But Eddie could make it… he could…
The explosion threw him backwards, his helmet taking the brunt of it as he was slammed back into a car door that crumpled beneath him. It winded him, but even as he struggled to regain himself, he was forcing his body up, forcing his legs to stand, feet moving as he couldn't look away from the roaring flames that completely took over the blackened carcass of the Jeep.
He was aware of his name being called, aware of voices and movements. But none of it mattered. Bobby managed to get in front of him, wrapping his arm around Eddie's chest and attempting to push him back.
"No, no," Eddie tried to say, fighting against Bobby's hold on him. "I have to-"
"Eddie!" Bobby shouted, voice commanding, and Eddie's eyes snapped to meet his. "It's too late."
But Eddie shook his head, numb, his movements becoming sluggish. He opened his mouth to speak, to argue, but nothing came out, his eyes stinging. Why were his cheeks wet? It wasn't raining… It wasn't raining, and this couldn't be real. That wasn't Buck's Jeep. That wasn't Buck. It wasn't…. because it couldn't be.
It couldn't be Buck.
"Cap?" Chimney questioned, his quiet voice sounding distant.
"Take him to the engine and do not leave his side," Bobby ordered.
There was a moment's pause before Chimney spoke again. "Is that…"
But he didn't finish, and Bobby pushed Eddie closer to Chimney.
"Take him, now."
Eddie was vaguely aware of hands guiding him back through the chaos of the wreck. He was vaguely aware of the voices around him, of brief directions and hushed whispers. But it was all drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the thumping of his heart, a cold numbness holding him still until he was forced to sit on the step of the engine.
No, he was meant to be doing something. He was meant to… there was something he should have been doing! But he couldn't think of it. As he tried to stand up and was forced back down, all he could do was stare blankly at Chimney, who kept his hands firm on Eddie's shoulders, something in his eyes that Eddie couldn't quite figure out at that moment in time, too far gone.
"Chim?" Hen questioned, approaching them with caution, but Chimney gave a subtle shake of his head.
Eddie swallowed hard, looking between the two of them. He blinked, and his gaze moved beyond them and towards the twisted metal of cars, the thumping of boots on the ground as firefighters from other crews rushed by.
"We should be working," Eddie murmured, barely even aware that the words had left his lips.
"No, Eddie," Chimney answered, trying to catch Eddie's gaze. "They've got this."
He wasn't entirely sure how they ended up at the hospital or how he ended up staring into the end of a small torch directed at his eyes, the light moving from one side to the other.
"Definite signs of a concussion," one voice said from behind the light, and he blinked, trying to focus on the shadows behind.
"Woah, take it easy there, Eddie," came Bobby's voice when Eddie attempted to push up. "You took a pretty bad knock to the head."
Once the torch was out of his face, the room and the people came into focus. Bobby and Chimney stood nearby, both staring at him as if he was about to pass out, and he could see Hen through the window talking to someone.
"Do you know where you are, Mr Diaz?" the doctor in front of him questioned.
Eddie took a shaky breath, attempting to put the pieces of his memory back into place. The call, the pile-up, the fire and smoke… the Jeep.
"Buck…" he breathed out, and his head spun once more, his eyes searching Bobby's for answers, or lies.
"Eddie," Bobby started, taking a step forward, but Eddie shook his head.
"No."
"They're still waiting for confirmation but…"
Eddie closed his eyes tight, fighting against the tears as his lips thinned. "No. It wasn't him."
"It was his Jeep, Eddie."
He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "Bobby, no."
Bobby didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. The man looked as broken as Eddie felt, and yet, despite it all, he wrapped his arms around Eddie and didn't falter once as Eddie completely fell apart there and then.
Confirmation came later in the form of Buck's watch.
Eddie tried to deny it. If it hadn't been for Christopher, he would have happily convinced himself that everyone was wrong. They were wrong and it wasn't Buck's Jeep and Buck wasn't dead. Buck wasn't being buried in a week's time. Except, he was, and Eddie spent his nights on the couch, unable to sleep in their bed without Buck.
Bobby checked in on them most days, making sure they were eating, making sure they were surviving. Eddie wasn't so sure he was. He woke from nightmares drenched in sweat, Buck's name on his lips. Christopher would spare him furtive glances in the mornings, but he never questioned Eddie on his disturbed sleep and Eddie never brought it up with him.
Afterall, how was he supposed to tell his son that every night, he lost Buck all over again? How was he supposed to tell Christopher that the man he saw as a second father to him, died over and over and over again whenever Eddie closed his eyes?
He had spared Christopher the details of what happened. He simply told him it was quick. He said nothing of the suffering Buck might have endured beforehand, nothing of the heat of the flames, of the sickening smell of burnt flesh. When Christopher asked to see him, Eddie had told him it wasn't appropriate and nothing about the fact that there wasn't even enough left of him to see.
Christopher had locked himself in his bedroom that night.
Eddie couldn't blame him.
When Shannon had died, he had been able to be there. He had been able to see her. There was anger and grief, but there was closure. With Buck… Eddie struggled to comprehend it all. No body, no closure. Just an empty space where Buck once was, a shadow lingering at the edge of Eddie's vision. Every morning, he expected to hear his voice from the kitchen, singing whatever song was currently stuck in his head, and every night, he expected a hand on his shoulder, telling him to go to bed.
But the hand never came.
The day of the funeral, he busied himself in the kitchen, meal prepping for the week ahead. He caught sight of Christopher watching him from the doorway, but said nothing, and Chris dashed away. Within half an hour, there was a knock at his door, and he pulled himself away from the kitchen to answer it. Christopher was there again, watching silently from his open bedroom door before ducking back inside when Eddie looked his way, but not before Eddie could see the phone in his grasp.
The knock came again, and Eddie groaned.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he called, before wrenching open the front door to see the faces of Bobby and Maddie looking back at him.
Shoulders slumping, he let go of a heavy breath and turned away from the pair to head back toward the kitchen, leaving the door open as permission for them to enter.
"Eddie, you should be getting ready," Maddie said, looking at him from over the kitchen island, her eyes wide and pleading, rimmed red and puffy from the tears that Eddie knew all too well.
"I'm not going," Eddie answered, picking up cutting board with the remnants of vegetable scraps on and heading toward the trash can.
"It's his funeral." She sounded so broken, and Eddie couldn't look her way. "You should be there. If not for you, then for Chris."
Eddie stalled at that, dropping his head forward a moment before tossing the cutting board into the sink and turning on Maddie, his eyes hard. "No. You don't get to bring my son into this."
She didn't flinch at his anger, instead reaching her hand across the island a little. "He wants to be there."
"No."
"Eddie…"
But Eddie shook his head and turned away, gripping at the sink with both hands for support. "I can't."
"Why?"
Eddie couldn't answer, his throat closing up on him, but he didn't need to. Bobby spoke for him, Bobby who knew better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.
"Because being there makes it real."
Eyes closing, Eddie tried to fight back against the tears, hating the truth in Bobby's words. If he didn't go to the funeral, he could pretend that one day, Buck would come home. If he kept Buck's toothbrush by the bathroom sink, then he could pretend they were just on different shifts. He could pretend Buck was out there in the world somewhere, saving someone, making them smile, throwing out random facts, doing everything in his power to make it back home. Home to Eddie.
Maddie wrapped her arms around Eddie and placed her head against his shoulder, and he could feel the dampness on her cheek already through his shirt. "Don't do this to yourself. He never would have wanted that."
"I can't…" Eddie tried to force out, but it came out choked, a sob quickly following it as his chest shuddered and the tears could no longer be held back.
"We're right here with you," Bobby said, and he placed a firm and comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder.
That was all Eddie could take. The touch completely broke him, and Bobby pulled him into an embrace.
"He's not coming back…" Eddie choked out. "I lost him, Bobby. I couldn't save him."
"No one could," Bobby answered, gently patting his shoulder. "It's not your fault."
"I was right there… I should have been able to save him. And now he's dead, because I couldn't… because I wasn't…"
But Bobby shook his head. "No one blames you and you shouldn't either. There wasn't anything anyone could do. Buck knows that."
He and Maddie stayed with Eddie like that for what felt like the longest time, until Bobby finally straightened himself up, his tone soft but commanding as he spoke, telling Eddie to go shower and get dressed. Telling him they would see to Chris, and when he was ready, they would go together. Because Eddie wasn't alone. Eddie had them.
He put on his dress uniform and stared at the broken man in the mirror before him, barely able to recognise him through the dark circles. Bobby helped him with his tie, and Eddie let him, knowing it was as much for Bobby as it was for him. He thought of all the times Bobby had fixed Buck's ties in the past, often with a roll of the eyes, slapping Buck's hands away, but every time, beneath the false frustration, Eddie could see the small endearing smile, and the shine in Bobby's eyes – eyes that were red now, holding back tears so he could be strong for everyone else. Because that was what a captain did. That was what a father did.
So, Eddie would be strong too, for Christopher.
He walked ahead of the ladder truck through the cemetery, Buck's helmet heavy in his hands. But he pushed on. He held his head high and shoulders straight, and when he rang the bell for Buck, he fought against the crushing weight in his chest and stared straight ahead, thinking of the beaming smile Buck saved only for him.
Christopher held onto his father and Eddie held onto him as the casket was lowered into the ground. The casket that was a symbol more than anything, a place to hold what was left of Buck. But as Bobby said later, standing tall in front of everyone… Buck would never truly be gone.
He would be there in the way they found pleasure in the little things, in the way he had touched their lives in different ways, in the way they fought through each day, and in the way they would push through no matter how hard it got, because that was what Buck did. That was who Buck was. He was their heart, and that was one thing would never die.
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A/N: More to come...