#whump!buck

Basically I wrote a fic where the loft catches fire. All Buck wants is his dad (Bobby). Also Buddie feels at the end!!! This can be read as a standalone, although eventually I plan on writing a second part!! (there is no cliffhanger)

To anyone else who sent me an ask, I am going through all of them, thank you so much for your patience! If you wanna check whether I've replied to yours yet, you can have a look at my ask tag. xoxox

He felt safe here, on the complete opposite side of the US. Buck has been spiraling so badly since that dream he worries seeing them will only make things so much worse. He knows it’ll set him back that much further. “I would have taken vacation time to skip town if I’d known sooner.” That does earn him a reaction from both Bobby and Eddie, who simultaneously raise their eyebrows. It would be comical if Buck wasn’t filled with such existential dread. In therapy, Buck avoided talking about his parents like the plague. Dr. Copeland had noticed him dodging the questions each and every session—she never let up in her pursuit of asking after them, but she was also content to wait until he was ready, simply prodding him in the meantime. They had plenty of other work to do first anyway. It could wait in the wings until the moment he had enough strength to address the elephant in the room. He thinks he knows what she’ll say, and Buck knows he’s not ready to hear it.

Eddie and Buck talk about the Will.

Buck is the first one out of the truck when they park. His body seems to be moving on pure muscle memory alone. He anxiously awaits his orders while Chimney and Hen race over to assess the situation. Bobby calls for tools after a quick survey of the incident, and Buck quickly responds. He shoulders the necessary items and bags before racing to join the paramedics and his captain. He nearly stumbles on his own feet when a strong sense of déjà vu blindsides him. Reality sinks in the closer they get to the site of the incident. The 118 was selected to respond to a call at a skatepark, and although he’s never attended one before, he’d had his fair share of firefighters and paramedics come to his aid at the local skatepark back home. Flashbacks from the night before momentarily flood him, and he’s about to properly start spiraling, but before he can, a rough hand on his shoulder snaps him out of it. Buck realizes that Eddie had nearly completely run him over in their rush to the patient due to his abrupt halt. Bobby’s voice travels over the comms again, spurring Buck into motion, but he feels a bit like his limbs are part of a marionette. He carefully scales down into the partial bowl of a section of ramps while other young adults and teenagers watch on anxiously from above. Nearest to the scene of the accident is an angry mom screaming at her kid, who has gotten his ankle trapped in some railing on a downward slope, feeding into the bowl. The skate board is lying upside down a few feet away, and Buck’s stomach swoops. “Where do you need me?” Buck asks Bobby, but his voice sounds so far away that he’s half surprised that Bobby answers or even hears him. His captain doesn’t even seem to notice anything is off, which is preferable to having to explain his sudden panic.

“No, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a parent.” Buck answers instead, truthfully. Hen sends him a strange look. There is an odd, almost hesitant lilt to her tone that Buck can't dissect. “And why not?” Buck shakes his head. “I doubt it's in the cards.” He tries to be flippant so he can play it off as one of his usual perpetually single self-deprecating jokes. Chim frowns, all trace of teasing gone, when he sees how uncharacteristically serious Buck’s own expression is despite the attempt at humor. “And just why do you think you’d be a bad father? You’re great with Chris and Jee.” What Buck doesn’t say is that he could never commit himself to the possibility of becoming either of his parents. Sometimes he still tastes the blood in his mouth from a split lip or a bloody nose. It would never be worth the risk. “Yeah, it sort of surprises me,” Hen admits. “I always figured you would settle down and have a herd of little Buckley’s, even if you just adopted. You always get so wistful when you’re babysitting.” Buck simply shrugs because he fears his voice might crack. This conversation felt a little too vulnerable, especially for a lighthearted trip to the park after a late lunch on their day off. It wasn’t a discussion he was prepared to have right now—especially without delving into the dirty details of his childhood. Eddie, who was apparently listening in from his post by the slide, is staring at him as though he’s trying to put together a complicated puzzle, and the answer is written somewhere in Buck's eyes. He looks shell-shocked and a bit like Buck had open hand slapped him across the face by informing them he never intended to become a father.

“It's just that you were quiet on shift the rest of the day after Maddie stopped by, and you haven’t shown your face in the work group chat since. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re spinning out a bit.” Buck laughs a little numbly. He occasionally forgot how perceptive Chimney could be. He was good at burying it under his goofball exterior. “What I’m trying to say is that if you need me to cover for you tonight, I can.” “I’ll be fine, Chim. It's just been… a really long time since I’ve seen my parents.” “You’ve never talked about them much,” Chimney considers. “When was the last time you saw them?” “When I dropped out of college, so maybe… when I was 19? We’ve had no contact since.” “Does Maddie know?” Chimney asks in concern. “Of course not. You know how she is… I just don’t want to worry her. She’s got enough to worry about. I don't want to be a burden. I’ll be fine tonight, Chim. Cross my heart.” Buck lies. “I can admit I’m being a little stubborn. I just need to get through dinner. It’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be better for you if there’s a buffer.” Chimney procures a small bottle of rum from his jacket, offering it to Buck. “I figured this might work as a little liquid courage.” He grins when he spots the look of disbelief. “Listen, if I understand anything, it's complicated family dynamics.”

Buck wants to blame the urge to kiss Eddie on the significant amount of booze in his system. But if he thought booze was the only reason, he was lying to himself. Kissing Eddie is an ever-present urge that's lived with him since the first day they’d met. From the very moment he’d spotted Eddie, shirtless and well-muscled, it had done something to his insides. Buck’s pretty sure that night his body chemistry was entirely rearranged. His attempts at flirting were bumbling and embarrassing. The 118 likened Buck to a dog pissing all over the fire station to mark his territory. Buck was never quite sure after that day how to classify his friendship with Eddie. There were times it felt so much closer and more intimate than friendship, but although they bantered, Buck had never been sure it could be considered outright flirting. At least not reciprocal. Through the years, they’ve always had a tactile friendship, always bumping shoulders, pressing their legs together, and even occasionally sharing a bed. He’s also mostly kept his crush under lock and key, outside of the one time Maddie very jokingly accused Buck of having a boy crush on Eddie. He’d almost blurted to her right there that it was more than a childish crush—so much more to him at least. Instead, he’s only confided in a single person at the 118. Hen always humored him, never pushed him, and had gone all soft around the edges when he’d confessed his feelings to her. They’d spent one night at a gay bar after his confession, getting deliriously drunk and discussing all their gay escapades through the years.