‘bad credit score shopaholic’ buck and ‘just let me buy this shed real quick’ eddie are made for each other, i don’t know what to tell you. i hope they make horrendous financial decisions together for the rest of their lives
Eddie isn't sure what he's expecting when Buck meets him at the airport. Red-rimmed eyes, splotchy face, hunched shoulders probably. Not this. Distant eyes, blank face, straight-backed. He'd been braced to catch Buck as soon as he landed, had spent his whole flight locking every bit of his own grief away to be thought about at a later date, let the guilt pool in his chest instead.
I should've been there, I could've -
He'd been ready to catch Buck, but it's Eddie who falls into Buck's waiting arms. Eddie who tears up. Eddie who clutches at the back of Buck's shirt like a scared child. And it's Buck sweeping his hands up and down Eddie's back, holding him together, murmuring:
"It's okay. I've got you. It's not your fault."
Eddie doesn't cry in LAX. His grief is a private thing. Always has been. He locks it into his bedroom and lets it out behind closed doors. But Buck is the safest space he's ever had, so he lets himself break a little. Lets himself shake apart under Buck's hands until he can ground himself with a deep breath at the junction of Buck's neck and shoulder. Until he can stand on his own.
Buck looks at him, eyes searching, deepest of furrows between his brows, so devastatingly gentle. And Eddie kind of wants to fucking scream at him for being okay. He'd needed to take care of Buck. He'd needed to have something to do. But now Buck is looking at him like he can fix him, and Eddie wants him to. So badly. But Buck knows Eddie's grief is for South Bedford Street, not LAX, so all he does is lead Eddie out to the parking lot.
It's a silent drive. Buck tells him the details of the funeral. Clinical. Sparing. And Eddie watches Buck's knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Listens to the creak of leather under an unyielding grip. And he sees it then. The countdown over Buck's head, ticking away steadily. He's grateful in a way.
They pull up to the house silently. The engine falls quiet. And they stare at the door. The door Bobby had appeared on the other side of just a few months ago for a goodbye dinner. At the house. The house Bobby made coffee in when Eddie couldn't stomach being alone. At the home. The home Bobby helped him build in every way.
Buck gets out of the car. Eddie follows. Buck unlocks the door. Eddie locks it behind them. Buck disappears into the kitchen. Eddie pauses.
Can't quite separate Bobby from kitchens in his mind. And it's not like Bobby ever cooked anything in Eddie's kitchen, but there's some stupid grief-crazed part of his brain that thinks he'll find Bobby at the stove for a last supper. A parting gift to Eddie. Because Bobby was always too good. Too generous. Too understanding. When it came to Eddie.
When he finally makes it in there, Buck is stood staring into the fridge. Vacant. Eddie joins him, presses their shoulders together as hard as he can without knocking Buck away, and looks at Buck's fingers curled loosely around two beer bottles. Eddie knows it's not the early hour staying his hand.
It feels wrong. To find comfort in alcohol at Bobby's expense.
Carefully, Eddie unpicks Buck's fingers from the bottles and watches as Buck's arm falls limp to his side with such weight it bounces off his hip. Swings once, twice, stops suddenly. Eddie grabs the water filter. Closes the fridge.
"Sit down," he whispers. Sure, steady.
Buck sits down.
Eddie grabs two glasses. Fills them with water. Leaves the filter on the side. Who cares? Who fucking cares? Takes the glasses over to the table in shaking hands. Spills only a little. Sits opposite Buck. Stares into his cup.
"I didn't say it back," Buck rasps eventually.
Eddie picks his head up with great effort. Ony manages it because he wants to see what hurt he's caused. Their missing medic. Absent in their hour of need.
"What?"
"B-he-he told me he loved me." Buck's eyes go wide. Horrified. Haunted. Hollow. "He t-told me he l-loved me, and I could-couldn't say it back be-because that would mean..." Buck chokes a sob into his hand. "I thought we'd fix it. I-I-I thought we'd find a way. We-we always do. I couldn't say it-it. I didn't want t-to let him go. And now, he's..." Buck's face crumples first. Then, the rest of his body follows, folding in on itself in the chair until he looks almost as small as Christopher had the first time he'd ever sat at this table. "He's d-gone, and he doesn't know I love him."
"He knows, Buck." Eddie's hand curls into a fist on the tabletop. Doesn't know what to do. For all he'd been ready to hold Buck together, he's not sure how. "He knows you love him, Buck. You told him every single day."
"But I never said the words!" he snaps. Pure rage. Pure guilt. He looks up at Eddie. Blue eyes wet and red and wild. The rage and the guilt seeps away, leaves only pure grief. "I never said the words."
He sobs then. Doesn't choke it down. Lets it out. Eddie reacts like it's instinct even though he's never done this before. Just somehow knows in his bones what to do when it comes to Buck.
He stands, rounds the table, slides a hand into Buck's hair, one on his shoulder, pulls Buck's face into his stomach and holds him there, holds him together. Buck's fingers tangle themselves in Eddie's belt loops. A lifeline. And Eddie holds him tight as he can.
"All the times you cooked for him. All the times he cooked for you. The two of you cooking together. You had your own language, Buck. He knows you love him."
And all Eddie hears is: you're gonna stand there with a hundred-something bodies on you and tell me I'm not fit for duty. Did Bobby know Eddie loved him too?
Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Eddie drops his cheek to the top of Buck's head. Stops holding Buck together and starts holding on. Buck's hands grasp at his hips, twist into the back of his shirt just like Eddie's had at the airport.
And all Eddie hears is: I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything before you can allow yourself to feel anything.
listen I don't even need buck to hook up with a ton of people, I just need one person to come back to his place with him, hot and ready to go, and they're flirting, making out a little, and just moving through the house, and buck goes to make them a drink or smth while his date stays in the living room for a moment, and they look around themselves, take in the decor, and the pictures on the wall, and when buck comes back they've got their jacket back on and are on their way to the door going "oh my god, I can't do this" and buck's like "wait what?? what do you mean???" but his date just keeps walking, and only right after they've set foot outside, they turn to look him dead in the eye, a shaken yet pissed expression on their face, and go "I don't sleep with married men, okay?"
and then they slam the door in his face and buck's just standing there, staring into nothingness as his mind spins out of control like it never has before.
(x) bro kenny literally kept telling him it's a shit idea. if bobby really is dead then this is just... man...
Hey yo guys- so what the actual everloving FUCK did we just watch-
Nonono because- alright let’s- take a moment shall we LETS FUCKING BREATHE for a moment and think about how the only time someone has addressed the fucking Godzilla in the room was Maddie fucking Buckley IN SEASON 2 and it was a haha joke
It’s not a haha joke anymore I fear ITS NOT A HAHA JOKE GUYS BECAUSE to have two separate characters in one episode be like “you’re in love with Eddie Diaz” and one of them is your ex boyfriend. who was FRIENDS with him. Who Eddie apparently dropped like chopped liver -HIS ONLY OTHER FRIEND BESIDES BUCK- the moment you two weren’t a thing anymore and the other is your long suffering sister who has watched this is unravel since the moment she stepped foot in godamn LA, TO HAVE BOTH OF THESE PEOPLE BE LIKE ????you have feelings for Eddie Diaz ??????? And Buck being completely unhinged “I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for” my brother in Christ that sure was a sentence you just said what are we even talking about at this point we’re just saying words “he’s straight” WERE JUST SAYING WORDS I need to be shot in broad daylight through the eyeball goodbye-
eddie saying he's sorry that buck couldn't keep the dog, that he had to give him up and it's said so sincerely and deeply and yeah it's about the dog but it's also about him, it's him saying im sorry i can't stay im sorry i can't let you keep me here im sorry that we have to let each other go, im not sorry for going to be with my son who i belong with, but im sorry you won't be there with us too
911 (2018 - ) 2.01 // 8.12
maybe it seems silly to people who consume media in a ‘normal’ way, but for some people this show has been a huge part of their lives since it first started. we love these characters. we’ve put so many hours and so much work into fanfics and art and edits because these characters matter to us. we see ourselves in them.
and it would have been one thing if we went into this show knowing characters would be killed off, but we’ve been told that wouldn’t happen. it’s next level cruel to take a show that we feel so safe with, and suddenly turn it into this. and in his interview it genuinely feels like tim is mocking the fans for believing what he told us about not killing mains.
idk. i’m angry and i’m sad.
Let me hold your hand while I say this - I absolutely do want to read your PHD thesis on Buddie
Every person out here spending hours writing an essay about framing, costume, wording, scene parallels, colour palettes, etc, etc is a true hero to me
Currently hyperfocusing on 9-1-1 and Buddie instead of studying like I should lol. 24 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️ (they/them)
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