Chapter Text
Buck should've known this was coming. Call after call, he figured there'd be one at some point that causes everything to boil over.
And of course, Buck would be in the middle of it all.
Buck had finished doing his list of chores, he's kept his head down like usual. He stares at the lights of the fire engine as it rolls back into the station.
A wave of relief washes over him, glad that everyone made it back and no one's in a hospital bed. It was a long call, a brutal one, from what he had heard. A car pile up.
Instantly, he can see the flickers of pain and grief etched onto everyone's faces. Whatever happened out there, it definitely was a lot.
Buck will keep his head down.
Because he always keeps his head down.
He knows what to do, he knows how to adapt. He'll be as quiet as a mouse, he will mold himself into the perfect firefighter who knows his place.
And he especially won't talk to anyone now, when tensions are high.
Despite his heart wanting to run up to them and check on all of them.
Hen has a habit of forgetting to take space for herself after tough calls. Bobby has a bad habit of staring into the void of nothingness and getting lost inside his head. Chimney has an issue with internalizing guilt and blaming himself. And Eddie… Eddie bottles it up until he finds– something to release. Usually the punching bag.
Buck knows all of this, which makes it all the more painful that they don't want his help right now.
He'll make it up to them, just not now.
Though, seeing Eddie's face… Buck can't help but want to ask if he wants to talk about it.
Throwing out all of what he had previously thought, Buck goes up to Eddie and decides to talk. Listening to his heart rather than his head.
He's a fucking idiot for this one.
“Hey… do you uh…” Buck clears his throat. “If you want to talk about it, I'm here.”
Eddie stares blankly into Buck, as if he's reading his very soul.
Is darkness all he sees? Does he know how broken Buck is? Is it rubbing off on him too?
“You can't fix everything, Buckley. You couldn't fix the lawsuit, and you can't fix this. So stop trying.”
Buck has to admit, Eddie's words got to him more than he's wanting to acknowledge.
Drop it.
Buck should drop it.
He knows he should.
But he can't.
His heart betrays him, going against his training and better judgements.
“I'm trying.” Is what he croaks out. What exactly does he mean by that? He's not sure.
Does Eddie know that he's trying?
Can Eddie see through the act he's been putting up?
Does anyone know that he's trying?
Is he simply screaming into the void?
“Yeah, well, this doesn't seem a lot like trying. How about asking about Christopher? Or checking in with literally anyone else. You came back and you've been ghosting us ever since. That's on you.”
Eddie is spitting venom and Buck can't help but find a fiery desire to be combative.
Fuck Eddie for using Christopher against him.
“Really? You think I haven't tried that? You think I haven't tried sending texts to all of you or calling you. There's only so many voicemails and unread texts I can take before it just gets sad. I've been quiet because it's what you wanted. I didn't choose to exist like a ghost.”
Suddenly, they have an audience. An audience of already emotionally drained people. Fantastic.
This is going great.
Buck's doing a great job at keeping his family together.
“You can't just spam 50 texts to everyone and expect to make it back in like that. You hurt us, Buck. That doesn't get fixed overnight. You're hurt that things aren't magically okay again? They aren't going to be for a while! But you keep trying. Until you stopped. You gave up on us.”
Buck is staring into the eyes of his closest friend who he's shared so many experiences with. It's now when he notices the broken look behind his facade of anger. It's the kind of broken look he's seen far too many times in his life.
And it kills him to know that he's caused this.
This– this show that they're doing. It's all going to ruins and Buck is the one engulfing everything in flames.
That's when Buck realizes that he's the problem. This is when he gets the answer to his question he had earlier.
His tainted soul is rubbing off on everyone around him.
Buck breaks everything he touches, everything– everyone that he loves.
“Right. I'm the problem.” Buck states coldly.
“Yes!” Eddie practically shouts it, looking as though he's unaware of the damage he just dealt.
Buck's life has been a cascading amount of loss and pain, of him fighting– both literally and figuratively to hold onto what he loves most.
And those words make him question why he's even doing it anymore. Clearly it's not working. Clearly it's not the world that's the issue, it's Buck.
If he's not wanted, he should stop trying.
It's that simple.
“Enough.” Bobby says sternly. Buck doesn't have the capacity to care about everyone's glances right now.
Maybe it's pity, or even worse, maybe it's agreement. Maybe they know Buck's a problem and they just didn't know how to tell him.
Well…
Congrats, now he knows.
“I just got clearance that we can go home early. Given the call we had, the chief approved extra time for everyone to go home to their families.”
Families…
Families….
Right. Yeah. No thanks, he can't handle looking at one more person he loves and seeing the haunted look behind their eyes.
He'll just go home and…
Do something.
He'll figure it out, he always does.
Because he's Buck.
And that's good enough for someone.
Even if that someone isn't himself anymore.
Perhaps it never was.
•••
Buck doesn't remember most of the drive home. His body was on autopilot and he didn't fight it. He feels drained and done.
He's immediately met with the photos he has in his loft of him and the 118, of Christopher, May, Harry, Maddie…
He can't take it— he can't– it's too much. It reminds him of what he had, and how much of an idiot he was for thinking he deserved a family like this.
The idea of them inheriting Buck's darkness is too haunting of a thought for him to push away.
Buck becomes even more of a coward than he already is and flips down the photos.
He can't look at them.
He can't—
He can't be here.
Buck…
Buck can't be here anymore. He has to run. It's the one thing he's good at, the one thing he's good for.
Because the idea of staying any longer being tormented with a family he can't have? He's too cowardly to stay.
Buck has to go. He can't stay, not here.
Suddenly his body moves as if it's prepared for this. Like it's second nature for him to pack up all his essentials and leave as if he were never there.
Because it is.
Hastily, Buck writes a note— he writes it to both Maddie and May. He figures his sisters are the best people to write to, they're the ones he goes to when he's distressed, they'll know what to do.
With the sloppily written note, and one look back on his… old apartment, Buck leaves.
He knows exactly where he's going.
He's going to the one person who's the exception to Buck's darkness, because he'd been there for some of his worst moments.
Part of him feels guilty, for doing this with no notice and closer to night time, but he needs the break. It'll be good for him.
Buck makes it to his destination and parks his car. He grabs his duffel bag and walks up to the door. For a fleeting second, he thinks about running away and just living in his car like he had years ago.
Instead, he knocks and waits.
“Hel— kid, is that really you?” Buck's old CO, Hondo, is staring at him in disbelief.
Buck tries to fake a smile. He knows Hondo sees through it. Hondo goes to pull Buck in for a hug. He almost forgot how tightly he squeezes for hugs, especially with people he's close to.
“You uh… you said that your place was always open in case I– in case I needed somewhere to go.”
Buck says it shakily, almost as if he's questioning that to make sure Hondo is actually okay with this.
Hondo's face goes into serious mode pretty quick, even after all this time, it's jarring how fast the man can change face.
“Of course, Code, and I meant it. Come in, we have a lot of catching up to do.”
Hondo smiles lightly and Buck steps into his home.
It's a welcome break from everything.
“Yeah, we do.”
Maybe it'll be okay.