#herogrant

He struggles against the arm thrown over his back, pinning him down. Tries to place those battered hands beneath him and push himself up, but the weight on top of him keeps him in place. The voice that it belongs to speaks to him, but he can’t strain to hear it underneath the chaos in his mind. 

“A firefighter is down!”

The phrase slowly starts to register as he mulls it over again and again. Somebody’s hurt -is it him? 

No. Other than a scrape on his forehead and an ache behind his eyelids, he feels fine. But when he shifts his head to the left, directs his gaze underneath the truck they’ve sheltered themselves behind, he sees a figure lying there, motionless. That form is so familiar; the hands that lay palm up, twitching, are ones he’s worked with before. Ones that he’s pressed a cool bottle of beer from his own fridge into. Ones that held his in one of the worst moments of his life, and pulled him to safety.

“A firefighter-”

-Eddie.

Oh god, it’s Eddie.

It all comes rushing back suddenly, all at once. The call, the kid. His conversation with Eddie being interrupted by the unmistakable sound of shots ringing out. The way the captain of the 133 had grabbed him and pulled him to safety, but not before he caught a glimpse of Eddie falling to the ground as the bullet pierced his chest. 

The panic that overtakes him as the memories flash through his mind is all encompassing. It lodges a lump so deep in his throat that he can barely choke out a breath around it, each inhale ragged and painful as it strains to reach his lungs beneath the weight of his body still pressed against the pavement. 

But he can’t stay put. He has to get to Eddie. 

He finally wrenches himself from the captain’s grasp, rushing towards Eddie on his hands and knees despite the shouts of protest. He all but collapses next to him, frantically reaching out to check his pulse, all the while taking in the sight of him, and Buck can’t help but feel as if he’s had this nightmare before.

Eddie’s skin is pale; eyes glassy as he blinks up at him. His skin is cold to the touch, the warmth seeping out of it with each moment Buck’s fingertips linger on his neck. He looks confused, and distraught, and so damn terrified that Buck would do anything to go back to the moments when an incident like this was nothing but a horrible, far-off possibility. 

“Buck?” Eddie chokes out, the sound quiet and wet.

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck says tearfully. “I’m right here. Just stay still.”

He reaches a hand out to Eddie’s chest, where he saw the bullet make its impact, horrified at the amount of bright red that shines on it when he pulls back. “Oh god,” he sobs. “I have to stop the bleeding, Eddie, I can’t-”

“Bleeding?” Eddie scowls, lifting his head slightly. “Buck, what- I don’t-” His eyes widen, filling with tears as he catches sight of the blood pooling on his chest. “Fuck,” is all he says, dropping his head back down, and Buck might almost find it comical how very Eddie the reaction was had they been in a different situation. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he says, and desperately hopes that it’s true. “I just- I have to-” God, he can’t think. Why can’t he think? Years of experience in the field and yet-

Eddie’s right hand twitches again, like he’s trying to reach out but can’t quite muster up the energy. Buck takes it in his free one, pressing the familiar skin to his own torn-up palm, finding that the sting doesn’t matter as long as he gets to keep Eddie in his grasp. 

“Listen to me,” Eddie rasps, voice thick. “Chris- I need you to look after him.”

“I will,” Buck promises. “Until you’re all better, Eds, I’ll be there.” And after that, too. 

A ghost of a smile crosses over Eddie’s face, and Buck hopes that the gods he’s always been doubtful of don’t hold it against him when he prays he’ll get to see it brighten again.

“What did we ever do to deserve you, huh?” Eddie asks, gazing up from under hooded eyes. “You always- you do...so much.”

Buck's eyes fill with tears as squeezes Eddie’s hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss against the back; the only part of his body that Buck can reach without fear of damaging. 

“Well,” he says. “You’ll have lots of time to make it up to me.”

Eddie simply smiles again. Doesn’t agree -doesn’t promise. Just stares at him with that familiar, kind gaze until his eyelids slip closed without warning, making Buck’s skin go cold.

“Hey, no. Eddie- Eddie!”

His eyes don’t snap back open like Buck so miserably pleads that they will. He stays still. Unmoving. A stark contrast to the way Buck’s body trembles from where he kneels beside him. 

He vaguely registers the shouts being tossed over his head, and the sirens approaching from the distance, but it all feels far, far away.