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henren ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° 911 abc + s06e06

buddie ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° 911 abc + the shooting / threads of fate - moonsharky

buddie | teen | 3.2k words

a missing 4x14 scene: when buck finds himself covered in the blood of his best friend, who was shot in the line of duty, he retreats to the sanctuary of a hospital bathroom to grapple with the horror of the situation.

The sensation of tasting blood seems almost universal, doesn't it? It's a memory etched into childhood, like the moment you nervously wiggle a loose tooth, eagerly anticipating the reward of adulthood only to find yourself wincing as the metallic tang spreads across your tongue. Or perhaps it's the inadvertent bite of the cheek, a sudden jolt of pain followed by the slow realisation of that familiar coppery taste mingling with saliva, cascading down your throat. And then there's the accidental cut, a small but potent reminder of vulnerability, as you instinctively bring your finger to your lips, seeking solace in the comforting ritual, only to be met with the bitter embrace of iron. It's a visceral experience, one that transcends age and circumstance, leaving an indelible mark on the tapestry of memory.

Buck is no stranger to blood, especially considering his profession, where encountering it is practically a given. In fact, he's had his fair share of personal encounters with it too. From his reckless childhood antics, seeking the attention he oh-so-desperately craved from his parents like any child would, to the more recent mishaps like being crushed by a ladder truck, nicked by glass from a windshield, or grappling with a pulmonary embolism. It seems like every month of his life has a tale of bleeding to tell, whether it's from a daring stunt gone wrong or just life's unpredictable twists and turns. If you were to catalogue them all, there wouldn't be a month that passed without Buck finding himself bleeding for one reason or another.

Blood is something he's always been fine with. It doesn't unsettle him when he sees it, nor does its smell sting his nostrils, or its sight bring tears to his eyes. It's never had a lasting effect on his inner balance. Except it does. It does this time, because it's Eddie. It's Eddie's blood, and it's everywhere, it's staining everything, and it's impossible for him to remain unaffected.

There's something about Eddie that always gets to Buck. It's not just the way he smiles, whether it's directed at Buck, Christopher, or anything else; it stirs emotions in Buck that he struggles to put into words. It's not just the physical closeness either, like when Eddie walks beside him, their arms brushing, providing each other with unwavering support. And it's definitely not just the way Eddie genuinely listens to Buck's ramblings, his interest never forced or feigned. But perhaps most profoundly, it's the way Eddie looked at Buck when he lay in a pool of his own blood, each shuddering breath a silent plea for help, yet his eyes saying more than words ever could—Buck was the only one he wanted by his side.

Though, Buck probably imagined that last part.

buddie | 7.4k words | general audience

based off the stills for 7x05, eddie shows up at buck's apartment and they have a heart to heart.

He's half expecting the knock at the door when it pulls him from the intricacies of his sudoku book. Though, he will admit, wasn't expecting it to be as late as it it when he glances down at his watch. The face reads 11:19PM. The darkness enveloping the streets of Los Angeles serves as a stark reminder of the late hour, its nocturnal symphony confirming the time without the need for his watch. With a deliberate stroke, he fills in the elusive 8 in the empty square, a small triumph in the sea of numbers that dance before him. Setting the pencil down gently, he allows himself a moment of satisfaction before looking up from his seat and allowing his eyes to cross the room towards the beckoning call of the front door.

He'd taken a break from the hypnotic glow of his tablet screen, the information a little bit overwhelming. Hence the sudoku book. It had allowed his eyes to rest from the endless stream of alphabetised labels that stretched across its display. Page after page, the colorful array of hues, each corresponding to a specific category, enticed his gaze. Despite the allure, he welcomed the chance to pause, to detach himself momentarily from the digital world that surrounds him. The vibrant palette of colors, each representing a different facet of information, serves as a visual reminder of the vast expanse of content that lies just a tap away.

Among the sea of links sprawled before him, there was one that had captivated his attention early on—Wednesday night, in fact, when he had done this search for the first time—nestled within the endless list. Its allure was undeniable, drawing him in with its promise of something special, with its pink, purple, and blue stripes. As he clicked through tonight, he found himself immersed in a world of wonder, each page unfolding like a treasure trove of delights. Despite the allure of this favorite link, a nagging sense of curiosity prodded him to continue scrolling, to explore the possibilities that lay beyond. With each passing entry, he weighed the merits of each against the comfort of his current choice. Nothing rose to the occasion, nothing won the challenge like that one from almost a week ago.