Chapter Text
”Nine-One-One, what’s your emergency?”
“He fell!”
“Ma’am, who fell?”
“Well I don’t know him, but I was jogging behind him and watched him climb over the railing and fall over the side of the cliff!”
“Okay, can you look over and tell me if he’s moving?”
“I would, but he took the fence with him when he fell!”
Eddie steadied himself against the machine helping lower Buck down the cliffside. He had scoffed slightly when Buck volunteered, as he had only been cleared for ‘light duty’ a week ago. Not full-on cliff scaling. This was his first major emergency back on shift and Bobby let him do it. Buck was already halfway to the truck to retrieve a harness before Eddie could even start a protest of “Are you kidding me?” Bobby assumed no harm could come, he explained in response to Eddie's furrowed brow. The rescue didn’t involve any running or kicking, so the risk to Buck’s body was minimal. That wasn’t what worried Eddie though. His mind had focused on the rocks beginning to crumble over the side, threatening to fall on the man down below. He failed to mention this though, as it would only fuel Buck‘s impulsive urge to do it. It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t believe Buck was capable. He had seen him do things that were much more dangerous. It was Buck’s disregard for his safety that scared him. This was a characteristic that had only briefly shown upon initial meeting but had begun to rear its ugly face increasingly more often. Buck had already been lowered about ten feet down the cliff; any opinion he had about the situation would have to wait. He continued to lower Buck, ever paranoid, until he reached the small outstretch of rock on the cliff where the man had landed about 50 feet down.
Buck made quick work of assessing the man, clipped on a cautionary neck brace, and strapped him into the backboard previously secured with a clip at his waist. Eddie stared at him with the admiration that so commonly took over his thoughts. Images of that night flickered briefly past his eyes. He remembers the blood dripping down Buck’s bicep, his eyes bloodshot, though Eddie couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion, the condition of the water he had been trapped in, or crying. He supposed it could’ve been all three. He remembers Christopher holding onto him, small fingers gripping his shoulder. He remembers taking him into the makeshift hospital to ensure no serious injuries lay there, hidden underneath a seemingly healthy body.
Eddie had snuck his arms under Christopher’s armpits and maneuvered from the crouched hug to pick him up and begin carrying him. Because of the awkwardness of the position, Eddie had to waddle to get to the opening of the medical center. He hardly noticed the scene playing out around him. Buck saw the lady carrying Chris a fraction of a second after Eddie did. He took a deep breath in, struggling to completely fill his lungs. It was him. It was Christopher. And he was safe. Eddie took off towards him. Buck stayed, rooted to the spot. His surroundings unfocused like someone had meddled with the settings on a camera, the sounds around him shifted much farther away. He recognized what was happening somewhere in the back of his mind, but couldn’t accurately process it, all thanks due to the cotton being shoved into it. He would remember later what he realized at this moment; he had been running on pure adrenaline. And his body had begun to feel the brunt of the day. The remaining members of his team arrived at this moment, concerned voices and words that he couldn’t make out. Bodies crowded around him, vying desperately for his attention as well as much needed answers. He paid them no attention, favoring staring at Eddie and Christopher instead. The two were engulfed in a hug. Eddie’s eyes met his and his face turned up into a small smile before he returned his attention to his son. As if responding to some unspoken signal, his legs gave out under the weight of his body. Hands grabbed his arms, gently helping him sit down on the cot laying behind them.
Though Eddie could not see it, Buck returned the gesture with his own cheeky grin. The hands still supported him, wrapped around his arms, as Eddie carried Christopher into the building behind them. He finally felt himself tip into unconsciousness as his body tilted backward.
The 118, though startled, began to treat Buck as they would any other victim. As it stood, Buck already lay on the cot, unconscious and pale. Hen was quick to search for a pulse, one she easily found, in great relief. Because of his unruly height, Bobby suggested they carry him into the medical center on the cot, rather than uncomfortably try to hoist him up on their shoulders. A quick murmur of agreement passed around. Bobby and Chimney each grabbed an end of the cot and hefted it up, trudging the distance to the entrance. Hen trailed along at his side, inspecting the deep wound on his arm. Her time was cut short as the cot was set down inside, another paramedic rushing over to help. She stepped back to make space, eyes locked on Buck’s chest as it rose and fell.
Eddie hadn’t let go of his son’s hand since they had first reunited. He supposed he felt that Christopher might disappear again without the physical touch. Though the panic only lasted around a minute, the fear remained instilled in his brain, an emotion -adding to the constant anxiety of being a parent in general- he assumed wouldn’t die down anytime soon. The metal chair he was sitting on was obviously made for short time use, because his back was probably prematurely comparable to a senior citizen’s. But he couldn’t stop grinning. To his immediate right sat Chris, fidgeting with the hem of his pants and fit as a fiddle, minus the mental scarring, with a clean bill of health save a scratch or two here and there. His focus clicked as he heard Bobby yell for help, his head twisting around to see what the commotion was. His smile dropped as Buck, sprawled across the cot, was set down diagonally across the room. The paramedic inserted an IV for morphine, turned to grab gauze, cleaned the wound, then carefully wrapped it around the deep laceration on Buck’s arm. Though he moved around quickly, the paramedic was methodical. Eddie appreciated the care he seemed to take of his patients, especially because right now his patient was Buck. Eddie glanced at Christopher, while the latter continued to look anywhere but his father’s eyes, and wondered the extent of what had happened to them over the course of the day. His attention was drawn back to Buck almost immediately. While the paramedic was checking him for other injuries, Buck had woken up, panicked, trying to prop himself up, insistent on getting off the cot. Disoriented, Buck looked around, eyes wide and hell-bent on finding something. “I have to find him- I have to- he’s gone- I have to-” he stumbled on his words in a rush to get them all out, reaching to pull the IV, “He’s missing!I have to find him- he can’t be gone- Christopher- Christopher where- I have to make sure he’s okay- I have to- I have…” “He seems to be in a fugue state.” the paramedic said after a moment of silence. “I‘ve just given him a mild dose of diazepam to ensure he doesn’t hurt himself any further.” He paused again, unsure of how to continue in the uncomfortable atmosphere that had been created. “It seems as though he was reliving something that happened to him. He was most likely experiencing whatever sent him down in the first place.The sedation will take a while to wear off, so he’ll need to remain in the presence of one of you until he wakes up to avoid any complications. If you guys need anything, tell that lady,” he pointed to a plump woman around her mid thirties, dark brown hair twisted up in some type of knot, “over there and she’ll be able to find me. Otherwise you’re fine to take him. I trust your skills are satisfactory to take care of him. Your friend is fine, guys. Just a little shaken up.” and with that he hurried away to another cot, though his speed did not seem to have been traded for efficiency. From his chair, Eddie watched as Buck’s chest rose and fell, knowing only a fraction of what had happened that day.
Eddie lifted the man first, who was rushed away to Hen and Chimney with the only apparent injuries being a broken arm, bent at an angle that made Eddie gag, a possible concussion, and scattered lacerations and bruises. Buck crawled up next, a grinning mess of sweat and dirt. Pulling himself up off the ground to a standing position, he swayed slightly from the swift change in position. Slightly enough that to his luck no one noticed. Eddie was too busy staring at the ledge Buck was still perched on. Eddie’s fear that it might crumble and send Buck to inevitable doom overpowered his desire to stay calm and collected as he grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him from the edge, stopping his imagination from running rampant with worst-case scenarios. Eddie let go of Buck’s wrist, disappointed to break contact, and with a small pat on Buck’s shoulder, he made his way back to the truck. After everything, life was starting to get back to normal. Buck was back at work where he belonged, Chris’s nightmares had become less constant, nothing too significantly bad had happened in a while. He grinned at the realization that Buck, after everything, seemed to be doing fine.
Buck was not doing fine. His body ached. Of course, he didn’t realize this, as he was much more preoccupied with the fact that he had lost Christopher. He enjoyed the occasional drink, but this emotion cocktail of anxiety and self-loathing did the complete opposite of calming him down. The foul taste coated his throat and made it hard to breathe. It intoxicated his head with intrusive thoughts that just wouldn’t stop. God, of course, Buck, Eddie drops his kid off with you and you manage to drag him into your magnetic attraction to disaster. It’s your fault he was even there in the first place. If you weren’t being so dramatic, Eddie wouldn’t have felt obligated to bring Chris over. He had been wandering street ruins for too long to measure now, stopping to help anyone he found. Asking them if they had seen the sweet little 10-year-old with Cerebral Palsy, and continuing his search when they said no. The sweet little kid you lost Buck. God if self pity were a drug you’d be overdosing yourself. Find the kid. That’s all that matters. Think about the rest of it later. It was practically, no, it was torture being awake. Knowing that he was fine but that Christopher could be anywhere, in any condition. Christopher could be- He closed his eyes, flinging his hands to his ears as if it would quiet the voice. He supposed the Universe had a rather shitty sense of humor because everything was worse with his eyes closed. His head pounded worse, the ringing in his ears overbore everything. The dark was too much like the water. The water that was all around him. The salt in his mouth. He couldn’t breathe without gasping for air, choking when he got took in much, then gasping again.
When it was over the whole experience came with a bout of dizziness comparable to being back on the pier, thrown around like he was a small child’s ragdoll. Then followed a round of lightheadedness that left him stumbling over his feet. Buck had never been a religious man, yet he prayed after the first time he experienced it, that he never would again. That it was only happening now because it was so recent. He would get over it. He always did. So for the moment, he had decided to keep his eyes open. But the Universe and its sadistic love of destroying Buck’s hope at survival, of course, had other plans. He trudged forward, Chris’s glasses hanging from his neck, an anchor to stay concentrated, determined to find what he so desperately sought after. He had no clue what time it was, nor did he care. It didn’t matter until he found him. Nothing mattered, he just had to-
“Find him,” Buck muttered under his breath. The couch in the loft wasn’t very big, but with the other team members laughing and smiling, sharing stories about their respective kids, talking loudly, and playfully yelling over each other, it didn’t really matter. Buck would nod and smile in false participation, but his mind would slip. A particularly ugly spiral tended to await him when he wasn't distracting himself with any other matter he could come up with.
You haven’t talked to him since this morning. What if something happened to him? You need to check. You need to make sure. He could be dead right now. He could be dead. Do you even care? If you cared you would be out looking for him right now. You lost him. You lost him again. He’s not safe. He’s not safe until you see him. He’s not safe, you need to find him.
The looming potential that the voice was right terrified him. But it worried him more to bother Eddie constantly about the kid he couldn't save from another life altering trauma. After Shannon, the last thing the Diaz's needed to deal with was Buck freaking out because of a situation that he put them into. He needed to deal with the problem on his own without whining about it for once. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again. He'd only just got back to the 118, he couldn't risk anything.
Couldn’t be exhausting.
Plus, this was nothing compared to the things he knew the others had gone through. Honestly, he was okay. He was fine. It was simply a means of making everyone else believe that too.