Right Now

The Hospital

After the ladder truck incident, Buck thought he could say with a great amount of certainty that he knew pain. His leg had been crushed-- it was touch and go for a while whether he would even keep it-- and the pain of not just that moment, lying helpless under the truck, but the many moments that followed were more than just physically painful. They were terrifying. More terror than he had ever known.

And then he'd lost Christopher in the tsunami and Buck understood a different kind of pain, watching his best friend think, however briefly, that his son had been swept away with the waves. Gone forever.

Still, nothing in his life ever prepared him for the sight of Eddie lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He was breathing with the help of a cold machine, a tube disappearing down his throat. It was only until he could breathe by himself, Hen had carefully reminded Buck.

If he ever woke up, that is.

Buck decidedly did not cry. His eyes brimmed red and watery, but he couldn't allow the tears to start, in fear that they might never stop. He stands against the wall, arms hugged tightly to his chest, and watches as Athena swoops in, stoic as ever, to get a succinct report from the doctors; they'd been adamant up until that point that nothing could be disclosed unless they were family. Though he had faced Athena's wrath many times and knew the effect it had, the fact that she was still in her police uniform probably added to the doctor's hesitation to follow standard protocol.

"You see these people?" Athena asks, waving a finger in the direction of Buck and Bobby. "They are his family. You want blood relation? His next of kin is a nine-year-old boy. Should I bring him in, let you explain to him that his dad is in a coma?"

Buck closes his eyes. He cant cry. He can't cry. He can't--

"Buck?"

He opens his eyes to find Bobby in front of him. His face is blurry behind a cloud of tears.

Dammit. So much for not crying.

"Come on," Bobby says. It's his Captain Nash voice; the one he usually reserves for field missions and when someone is in trouble. The one that left no room for argument. And Buck is certainly in no position to argue.

Bobby leads him out of the room-- for a moment he fears he's being taken back to the waiting room, but he's not sure he could stand the idea of having this breakdown in a room full of strangers. Thankfully, Bobby finds a line of chairs near the vacant nurse's station and sits Buck down. He keeps a hand tight on Buck's wrist, like if he let's go Buck will run.

Run back into Eddie's room.

Run through the front doors and far, far away from all of this.

"Buck, you gotta calm down."

Nothing about this was calm. If there was one perfect time in his life to have a full blown meltdown, he's pretty certain this is it.

"Eddie's going to be okay, Buck."

A sob catches in his throat and he bitterly chokes it down. "You don't know that."

"He's a fighter," Bobby says and the grip on his arm tightens just a bit. "Look, he's been in trouble before--"

"Not like this," Buck interjects.

"--and he always makes it through."

"Bobby." Buck sits up, turning to face the older man. The man he'd always looked up to, trusted, believed. Now, he sees the uncertainty in Bobby's eyes. The fact that he's not even sure he believes what he's saying.

Still, there's a sense of resolve when he says, "Athena will get all of the information from the doctors." This, at least, they both know is true.

"And then?" Buck asks. The tears he had sworn to withhold are running free down his cheeks. He doesn't even attempt to stop them, just wipes at them with the sleeve of his shirt. It still smells like fire and a fresh wave of grief and guilt floods him. "Bobby, what if--"