Chapter Text
Losing someone is... hard.
It's a bunch of messed up emotions trying to eat you alive. It's getting that doomed call. The person on the other side, silent for a moment, before their quivering voice deals the fatal blow. It's hitting the ground so hard that your vision swims and your lungs spasm in the search of air. It's waiting, at the top of the stairs, right there in the first step, so you can look down through the balustrade, waiting for the familiar sound of keys turning in the front door.
It's laying in bed, only to jump right back up because you swore you heard them, coming up the stairs just like they always do, that familiar rhythm they do, because no one just walks upstairs.
It's—
"Hey sweetheart"
May snaps her book closed with such speed that she swore she heard a page tear. She'd been expecting this. Of course, she had because it'd been happening ever since Bobby—
"Mom!" In a light panic, she swishes the book under her woolly blanket. Straightening her back out as if everything was just... peachy.
"Ca-can I help—... you?" Yeah, great try, May. Athena just looks at her, eyes flashing between the pretty obvious hiding space and her very own daughter. "I just came to check on you " she finally says.
Apparently she's decided to not let May know, that she knows where the book is, let alone that there is one. Not that she was doing a great job. The nervous glancing and flexing of her jaw had always been her telltales.
"You did that ten minutes ago, mom." As if she'd forgotten Athena's head bobs a few times, "Y-Yeah... yeah I guess." And there it was.
The slow tiptoeing towards the issue at hand. The even more nervous glances and worry and... God why must she worry so much.
"I just—"
"Want to make sure I don't try to kill myself again?"
Sorry, forgot to mention that part.
May's smile is, more, a crooked grin than anything else. Her lips laced with poison and eyes daring her mother to step forward into this, very, obvious trap- if she does say so herself.
Because yeah, she knows that's the exact reason why she's here. Looming over her, eyes following her closely. It's even worse than... the first time. Because now that Bobby is— isn't here, she can't take time off.
So, she has decided to become even more insufferable than usual, only now in the very limited time they're together in a day. The time she actually doesn't want to think about the fact that she tried to kill herself a week ago. Or the fact that three months ago she got to put her second father into a cold casket right into the ground.
Athena makes an attempt at swallowing the knot in her troath. Instead of trying to, find the words, she just inhales... sharply. It looks almost painful, eyes glazing over as she tries to decide if she should stay there. Perched against her daughter's bedroom door orrrrrr—
"There's dinner in the fridge... I'll see you after my shift." She gives her child a little honest smile before adding "Love you sweetheart."
Yeah, that she does...
The moment the door falls shut she scrambles for her book. She did indeed tear the page. Shit. It's not that it's ruined, just... it is, it really is ruined, for some reason the universe just can't...
The blanket gets swung into the air. There is no time for all of this nonsense. With one sweep she tears the rest of the page out, it probably tears some more as she stuffs it into her jeans and she runs.
To where?? God fucking knows.
Away?
Somewhere she might find her dad again, somewhere he might be. She was almost there, almost...
It's not her fault that...
—Athena had found her.
It's the second time now, for some reason she hadn't even thought about how her mom had felt, seeing her baby lying there on the cold bathroom floor. Again.
And again she'd managed to save her, and each night May prays she hadn't. The freezing air bites at her cheeks. By now they must look inflamed due to all the tears, she probably looked like she hadn't slept in days, that plus her outfit that she'd been wearing for a week, her greasy hair she hadn't managed to wash.
Every step she takes is with purpose, stupid because she doesn't know where she's going. She turns a corner past miss Sulivans house, nice lady. She'd always waved at them when Bobby—
"FUCK!" Her wail echoes between the houses, it tears through the air sending some birds flying. Fleeing away from the horrible, horrible noise. It's the moment when her nails find her scalp she truely realises she should shower. With a huff she sags down onto the ground.
Squatted down in the middle of the street, knees pulled up to her chest as she tries to stop the cries. Those godawful wails. She might send more birds fleeing if she keeps this up. Mr Newdo won't like that. He's quite fond of his birds.
It only takes about a minutes for the cold to wrap around her like a icy blanket, setting every hair on her arms upright. She shakes and heaves, not only because of the cold but also because of the violent sobs. Pathetic ghasps and hums leave her lips as she tries to clench her teeth, purse her lips– everything to keep the sounds at bay.
"May?"
She jumps up, tumbeling over her own two feet and crashing into the hard ground. "Can t-th-is day-y get a-any bett- bette-r?!" She sniffs, angrily snapping her head up towards the idiot that—
Buck...
The blonde is standing on the sidewalk, feet right in a puddle, right next to his car. He seems to be having a just as eventful day. Well maybe not as eventful as May's but opening your jeep door and immediately getting your socks soaked is pretty high up on the shitty day list.
Blinking wildly, trying to expell the tears from her eyes she whipes her palm across her nose, getting rid of the bit of spit and snot she'd gathere—
Wait... what is Buck doing here??
"Buck? W-what, why are you—"
"I..." something is supposed to follow. Hell he almost cut her off with that very enthusiastic "I" but Buck looks as sure of why he's there as she does.
Eventually he just laughs. A very high uncomfortable laugh that is as far away from a Buck laugh as— well as far off of that as you can get "It— doesn't matter, I just—" He drifts off.
He'd been doing that lately, zoning, May knows that for Buck, it feels the same. Bobby wa— is just as much Buck's father as he is May's.
"How about I give you a ride home?" He finally manages to say, already opening the door for her. She knows she isn't going to refuse, Buck knows that too, but still she stands there for a moment. Staring...
Eh what the fuck.
The drive... isn't exactly, quick. Buck just drives around the block. He does circles and circles and circles and circles and— "Buck what are you doing." She finally says, long forgotten about the previous shake in her voice.
Without much of a care in the world he takes another turn. Easily letting the steeringwheel glide between his palms as they pass her house for the sixth time. "I'm giving you a ride." He states.
Yeah okay, she's not an idiot—
"I find it relaxing in some way, gives me time to think."
It isn't unpleasant, even the silence doesn't bother her for once. And here she doesn't suddenly expect to hear Bobby, or think of him or... with one long huff of breath she leans back. It is nice... driving around.
Her eyes trail the houses as they pass. It all seems to familiar and so strange at the same time...
"May I—"
She glances at him through the glass window, and he sees it. He knows she expects him to continue but the words...
For a moment, Buck goes silent, he seems to be debating? Whether or not to ask maybe?
"Come on out with it."
He nods and... keeps quiet again, for a moment. "There is this... group, that might help."
Oh fucking hell this again!! Help group this, psychologist that!! "Why don't you and mom just get off my back!!!" She blows up. Hard and explosieve and- and... Buck doesn't react, not really. He just nods understanding, not at all like how her mom and her argued the other day.
He just accepts it?? What is this, some kind of reverse psychology? Because it is working!
"I don't need to go! Or want to for that matter! It is a bunch of people just bitching—"
"Talking" Buck corrects while rounding the corner again.
"A-and it won't do any good and—"
"I've been going myself." He says it so matter-of-factly that she stops dead in her tracks. Eyes buldging out of their sockets as she tries to imagine Buck sitting in a little circle with a bunch of random people, talking, about very depressing things.
Buck? In a group, where he talks. The talking wasn't the weird part it's just that ever since dr. Wells? Was her name? God knows! He had almost been allergic to, therapy and all that bullshit.
And now?? What? He's suddenly the fucking Messias of the self help groups?
"You?" Okay, she shouldn't have made it sounds so... bitchy. Not the point.
"Yeah, and I want you to try. Just one time. See if it helps." He looks over, piercing blue eyes waiting for her answer.
If he'd like to know, the answer is bubbling upward from her right this moment. Luckily for Buck, she swallows it down. He doesn't deserve to be showered in her shitty word vomit in which she'll probably say some things she'll regret.
"Look, I appreciate the, effort. But there is no fucking way that I—aaah!" The car swings onto their driveway. Buck is still too fucking calm for her liking.
Again, breathe, she tells herself, because Buck. Does. Not. Deserve. The. Word. Vomit.
"Look May—"
Okay he might just deserve it a little bit.
Her presses something into her hands. It's cold to the touch, round. As she looks down she can see the familiar glint of metal beneath her fingers.
The streetlight makes the silver hue dance across her face, it shines quite beautifully. It's a coin, with what looks like a flower engraved on it.
She can't but stare at the pretty little thing in her palm. Her mouth forms all sort of forms to start a word which, evidently, doesn't leave her lips.
"It's a little charm, I got it when I was pretty young. It helped me through very difficult times. I think it might just help you too." Just like the coin, Buck shines for a moment. His smile is almost just as bright as it was before—
"Buck I can't take this." She finally says, shoulders slumping. It is too much. It means too much to Buck, what if she loses it, what if it breaks what if—
He must've seen the worry in her big brown eyes because he smiles just a bit wider. "You'll do great with it, it'll ground you, promise. And if you, I don't know, change your mind, let me know."