Work Text:
Contrary to all evidence, Buck didn’t really enjoy writing - or rather he did enjoy writing, would even say he was good at it, but he never wrote for pleasure. For example, when he had written postcards for Maddie he had enjoyed keeping her updated on his life, but he hated that this was the only way he could do it; it had been nice to write Abby, to finally let out everything he wanted to say, but he hated that it had come to that.
Then he had written a letter of resignation - he hadn’t told anyone for obvious reasons - but it had been like a weight off of his shoulders, knowing that he could escape the consequences of his behaviour, no matter how much of a coward it made him feel. Now that he thought about it, it was probably still somewhere in the kitchen.
He looks over at the countertops, freshly cleaned; looks at the sink, empty of dishes and wonders if he should have cleaned the drawers as well but he shakes his head, wipes away the tears blurring his vision and looks back down at the page he was writing.
~~~
It had started small, so small he hoped he could be imagining it.
It had started with Chimney.
The 118 had just got back to the house after what was, in the grand scheme of things, a good call - a group of friends had been on a hike and one of them had, somehow, managed to get stuck up a tree. It also happened that Chim had been standing right under the tree when she got out and was covered in all the leaves that had been shaken loose.
“Chim, you look fine! You kind of look like a bush in a school play, but other than that you look fine.” Bobby chuckled as he jumped out the truck.
“I can't believe so many leaves came from one tiny tree!”
Hen stuck her head round the ambulance, “Hey, you remember that call, what was her name?”
“Oh! Alex with the-”
“Yeah, Alex with the cat-”
“Chim, you climbed so far up that tree that time and you and that cat you were both such a mess - leaves and- and twigs everywhere.” Hen wheezes, doubled over.
Buck smiled, confused, “When was this?”
Chimney paused for a second, “Oh, it was when you were off, right after the lawsuit. Wasn’t that the same week you got pushed into all that fruit, Bobby?”
“Yeah, and yes, it was rotten before you-”
Bobby didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Chimney was cackling again, “You smelled so bad for weeks and- Cap, I swear I can still smell it sometimes.”
Buck was still listening as they all walked towards their lockers, but a small part of his brain was already replaying the conversation, reminding him that there were so many moments, tiny moments, that he had missed because of his own pig-headedness. It made him briefly, fleetingly, wonder why he had fought so hard to come back.
~~~
Then it was Hen.
Everyone was sitting together over breakfast, except Bobby who was still standing at the stove, silently praying they wouldn’t get a call until after they had eaten, or at least until Hen had finished the story she was telling.
“So then I realised where I knew this guy from - he was the last client I spoke to when I was a sales rep,” she faltered, ever so slightly and her eyes flicked to Buck for a moment, almost warry, before she continued, “I mean, I threatened to stab this guy with his own steak knife!”
The table erupted into laughter and so did Buck, more a reflex than anything else because the last time Hen had looked at him like that had been over the cold conference table, her personal life spread out for scrutiny, dumped out and mixed in with everyone else's.
Buck felt numb all of a sudden, shocked-still with guilt rushing through him - he was struck by the realisation that even though everyone seemed to have forgiven him, they still didn’t trust him, not even with the smallest stories.
~~~
It was different with Bobby, it wasn't anything that he had said because he hadn’t said much of anything since Buck came back: it was how he looked at him.
He still remembers when he got fired, which is unsurprising - it’s not every day you get fired for stealing a ladder truck twice - but more than anything he remembers how angry Bobby had been, how he looked angry at himself as well for not seeing this coming. That's how Bobby looked after the lawsuit, disappointed in Buck and angry at himself for not knowing Buck would do this: he looked like he believed it was a given, a fact set in stone, that Buck would always make the wrong choice.
Buck isn’t sure Bobby was wrong. If he thought about it, he had made the wrong choice more times than he had made the right one, more times than he could ever hope to count, and he had disappointed more people than he could count.
He was almost glad he hadn't seen much of Athena recently because he's not sure he could stand to see the hurt and disappointment on her face. Since their first meeting, rocky as it had been, Athena had been like a mother to him and disappointing her like he always had his own mother… that would be too much for him to handle.
So now, every time the bell rang, every time Athena pulled up on a scene, they would look at him and it made his skin crawl.
~~~
Buck was startled awake by someone banging on his door.
“Hey! You’d better be decent, we’re coming in.” Eddie called as he opened the door, Chris following behind him.
He was not, in fact, decent, and he had all of five seconds to throw on some pants before Eddie came jogging up the stairs.
“You said you’d watch Chris today, why’re you still in bed?”
“Uh, maybe because it's seven in the morning and I wasn't expecting you till nine?”
“Oh, right,” Eddie slapped him on the shoulder and grinned, “I forgot to tell you there was a change of plan.”
He listened from the bathroom to Chris and Eddie chatting and cringed a bit when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, grinning like an idiot.
“So, what are we gonna do today?” Buck asked as he rummaged through his cupboards for the cereal.
“Can we go to the beach?” Chris says with all of the child-like innocence Buck thought he’d had taken from him.
He tries not to falter, he really does, but he’s so shocked he spills some milk on the counter, “You wanna go to the beach?”
“Yeah, I went with Dad when you weren’t here, and now I want to go with you.”
Buck put a bowl of cereal in front of Chris, stirring his own as he thought.
He knew, realistically, that he would miss out on seeing Chris grow, would miss seeing him in general, but realising that he had missed something so huge, such a massive step forwards in his healing… Buck wished he could have been there, could have been with Chris so they could have moved on together, even if it was just one step they took together.
“Buck?”
“Sorry, buddy, yeah, we can go to the beach.” He tried to smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Chris ate in silence for a moment, studying him. It made Buck squirm - Chris was barely ten years old and he had seen so much, he could read people so well.
“I wanted you to come with us when we went before, but Dad said you were busy.”
“Yeah, yeah, I uh- I was, but I'm not now, so what do you say we head out about ten?”
He texted Eddie before they left, letting him know exactly where they were going, what time he expected to be back and whilst he waited for a response he half expected Eddie would tell him no, don't take my son to the beach.
Instead Eddie gives him the all clear, tells them to have fun.
But all Buck can think about is how sad Chris had looked when he said he wanted Buck there and how it was his fault Chris looked like that, that Chris felt like that, and he wonders how many times that had happened.
“Your actions, your choices, they impact the rest of us.” - that’s what Eddie had half yelled at him in the middle of a grocery store. Buck can’t believe it took him that long to realise he was hurting Chris as well, after he had hurt him so much already.
~~~
A week after the beach, Buck couldn't stop thinking about everyone he had hurt, not that he ever had, but it felt like he was being crushed by the weight of what he had done anew every single day.
“Hey, Chim?”
He looked up from where he was doing dishes.
“So, you know how after the lawsuit, me and Eddie weren’t really talking? Well, obviously he forgave me-”
“Yeah and thank god for that, it was almost unbearable being in the same room as you two.”
Buck chuckled, “Yeah, I get that. But, um. Did everyone else? Forgive me, I mean?”
“Yeah, of course - why?” He said, half listening to Maddie with Jee in the next room.
“I just- I can't help but think that no one has. Like no one-”
“Chim, can you come here for a sec?” Maddie called.
“Just a second! Buck, listen, everyone's forgiven you, okay? We’re fine, you’re fine, but Jee does not sound fine, so I'll be back in two minutes!” Chim called over his shoulder.
Buck just picked up the dishes where Chimney had left off.
~~~
It carried on like this for weeks, every interaction, every second glance, everything adding up until, inevitably, Buck reached his breaking point.
It was a bad call. A collision, two vehicles - a car and a tow truck - a freak accident, the driver of the car was thrown through the windshield, the truck had rolled and the car driver's leg was trapped under the cab.
Buck was good at his job, but he was only human so, as he worked, doing exactly and only as he was told, his hands shook to the point that he thought he was actually making the situation worse.
It took a couple of hours for everyone to be off to the hospital, and another half hour for the 118 to be back at the house. Buck did not remember most of it. The driver that had been crushed was going to be fine, but there had been three casualties and he could feel himself spiralling, every choice he had made since he himself had been crushed playing on repeat until he came full circle and-
“Buck?'' There was a hand on his shoulder, Bobby was standing in front of him, Eddie off to one side, watching, “Buck, go home. Get some rest, talk to someone, I’ll call you in the morning.”
Buck only now realises that the alarms are going off, he can hear people running, the engine starting and Buck nods blankly as Bobby almost carries him outside to an uber.
~~~
By the time he can feel his hands again he’s sitting on his couch, rubbing them together, rubbing salty tears into the wound he hasn't stopped picking for weeks. He thinks about Chimney. He thinks about Chimney and Hen and Eddie and Chris and Bobby and Athena. He thinks about his parents and his sister and the brother he didn't, doesn't even remember he thinks about Abby and he thinks about every mistake he has ever made. He thinks about the driver pinned under the cab of the truck and wonders if he should have warned him about how quickly everything can go wrong.
He thinks about how everything can still be wrong, even when you think it’s not.
He thinks about how his family still doesn't trust him, how he missed out on huge chunks of their lives, missed out on time he'll never get back, and he cannot breathe, guilt and hatred and rage crushing his chest until he thinks he's going to black out.
He comes too on the floor, drags himself up onto the couch and thinks about his letter of resignation, the kitchen drawers, cleaning the apartment so nobody else has to.
He thinks about how to let go of what he lost and never got back.
~~~
The sun had long set, but with all the blinds open and the dirty glow of the streetlights, Buck could just about make out the letter he was trying to write.
His hands were shaking and he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Apart from lying to himself, because he knew exactly what he was doing. He was stalling. He wasn’t sure if he was going to do this.
He had already written one for Hen, one for Chimney, one for Bobby and Athena, and now he was fumbling uselessly through his fifth page to Eddie. It was a barely legible garbled mess, half-formed sentences about loss and fear of losing, fear of missing out and the guilt that followed, the guilt Buck already felt for how this would end, each scrawled paragraph ended with an apology that he knew would never be enough.
Somewhere along the way he writes a letter for Chris as well. He tucks it in with Eddie's.
It was almost one am by the time Buck had all the letters written and he was moving on autopilot now: standing mechanically from the couch, pulling on his jacket, checking the door was locked as he left, then double checking and finally- finally, walking away.
~~~
As he walked, he couldn’t help but think about who he used to be - Buck 1.0 was a mess and made more mistakes than he cared to count, he had ideas he knew were bad ideas and then ran head first into them with a cheeky smile and a joke to pull him out the other side. Buck 2.0 still had bad ideas, still made mistakes, ones that he committed to, but somehow that commitment just made it worse. He thought about it right up until he found one reason it was a good idea, and then ran into it with all the confidence he could muster.
Which, he supposes, is why he was wandering the streets of L.A. at one am, all burnout and nowhere to go. Before, he could have gone to Eddie, he could have gone to Bobby, to Maddie, but that was all before. Before the lawsuit, before his leg, before the tsunami, before before before.
And then there’s now.
Now, where he had finally become Buck 2.0 with a whole plan, a plan which ended on a bridge. A plan, a bad decision, a mistake, that ended with him alone, sitting balanced on a railing.
~~~
In the distance, on the other side of the water, he could see the lights of a fire engine flashing, he could feel the wind trying to blow him off the railing, hear the water rushing to catch him, and felt all of a sudden calm. The kind of calm he only felt at- that he used to feel at work, the kind of calm that held his hands steady and slowed his racing mind.
The sudden reprieve from his racing thoughts had him thinking with more clarity - he knew this was selfish and part of him was screaming at him, begging him not to do this, to talk to someone like Bobby had suggested, but the voice in the back of his mind was whispering, louder and louder to just let go.
The whispering sounded so much like the wind, wrapping gently around him and tugging him forwards.
He uncurled his hands from the railing, adjusted his footing and-
“Sir? My name’s Bobby, why don’t you come down so we can talk?”
Buck hadn’t cried, not since the crash scene earlier but, hearing Bobby's voice, it was like a switch had flipped. The rest of the 118 were still on shift, because he had been sent home early, because they cared about him, except they didn't, they didn't trust him they didn’t-
“Okay,” Bobby called again, closer than before, “Could you tell me your name?”
“Stop! Stop coming closer. I dont- I don’t want to get down.”
He could picture the looks on everyone's faces, he could see the tears they thought they had to cry and it just made him feel worse.
“Buckaroo, what’s going on?” Chimney called from where he was gripping Hen’s shaking shoulder.
“Nothing, you guys should go. Please-” his voice cracked a little at the end, the wind picking up, trying harder to push him forwards.
“We can talk about this - whatever it is that’s brought you up here, we can help you.” Chimney tried, his voice wavering with desperation.
“You can’t help me. I made sure of that, didn’t I? I screwed up, every step of the way, I lost your trust - I didn't deserve your trust and now I don't have it, and you- you don't have to be here you-!” Buck choked on a sob.
“Buck you’re not thinking straight, which is expected right now,” Bobby cut in, “We can talk about this. I think that there’s been some miscommunication, but right now all you need to know that we do trust you. We trust you every single day, with our safety, with our hearts, with everything. Buck you are a part of this family - we are family and we need you, we need you to come down from there, we need you to talk to us.” He pleaded, desperately trying not to run to him and drag him off the railing.
Everyone was silent for a moment, the only noise was that of the water below.
Buck sighed, “I tried to talk to you. I tried to apologise but I- everything I do is just exhausting, I didn’t think, I don't think, I don't think about anyone except myself and you all have to clear up my messes, all the time. And now here you are cleaning up another one of my messes.”
Eddie hadn’t even moved from where he was, half in half out the truck - he hadn't moved since he realised it was his best friend, his- since he realised it was Buck, sitting there, ready to die. Because he thought he was exhausting. The word rang in Eddie's mind like he had been hit over the head with it, his teeth rattled with it, hands shook like they used to before a fight and all he could do was stand there as Buck swayed on the edge.
And then Buck was literally swaying as he brought both hands up in a futile attempt to scrub the tears from his face.
"I shouldn’t have said that to you.” Eddie said, a little too loudly and Buck jerked forwards in shock, barely grabbing the rail in time, “Buck, I was tired, but not because you had exhausted me, because, shit, Buck I was exhausted, I am exhausted but that’s not an excuse for what I said. I want to help you. Please.”
Eddie’s almost standing within arms reach of Buck now, but he doesn't dare move closer because he’s shaking his head like he thinks Eddie's lying.
“Buck, Evan, do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what I said when I brought Christopher round for the first time after the tsunami? I said ‘thank you for not giving up.’"
He can hear Buck sobbing and his own voice cracking, hear people talking, a car pull up, but he tunes it out, focuses on Buck and his breathing.
“I didn't just mean not giving up on him, I meant not giving up on you. I could see you wasting away - I get it, you thought you had lost everything - but I will never stop being thankful that you never gave up on yourself. Buck - Buck, please you have to listen to me, you have to get down.”
Buck sighed, head rolling back, hands flexing where he held on, “You know, I was going to do this before. When I was a kid, I knew my parents… my mom always- they both looked at me in this way that made my skin crawl, made me feel like I had fucked up just by being born-” Buck laughed wetly, “guess I wasn’t too far off. I just couldn't…”
He had turned slightly, finally meeting Eddie's eye and giving Bobby the split second he needed to lunge forward and grab Buck tightly around the waist, the shock loosening his grip on the railing enough for Bobby to drag him backwards off the railing onto the floor. Eddie immediately drops to his knees next to them, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Buck.
Buck screams. It sounds distant, like a shot from a film. He screams and there are tears streaming down his face as he tries to fight free of the tight embrace he’s trapped in.
Then there’s two hands on his face as well, brushing tears away and it’s Athena, whispering to him telling him she can’t lose a child, not again, not like this.
His scream chokes off until he's only sobbing, loud, violent sobs that rack his body and each one tears its way up his throat, clawing its way up from somewhere so deep inside him he feels himself gag around it until he's dry heaving into the grass next to him and there's hands rubbing gently at his back, a bottle at his lips.
And, for the second time that night, he passes out.