Archive of Our Own

It’s their first call of the shift.

Eddie’s about halfway through his first cup of coffee when the tones sound. Next to him, Chimney heaves a dejected sigh as he lowers a steaming forkful of Bobby’s breakfast casserole down onto his plate. Eddie gulps down the rest of his coffee as he and Chimney get to their feet. Hen jumps up from where she’s been watching the morning news and Bobby stops loading the dishwasher. As they all head down the stairs to grab their turnouts, Eddie instinctively looks around for Buck before he remembers that Buck’s not on shift today.

Just like that, Eddie’s mood dips down a notch.

Shifts without Buck always feel just a little off. Not that Eddie doesn’t enjoy working with Chim, Hen and Bobby – of course he does – but he can’t help missing Buck when he’s not around. Especially since… well.

Still, he’ll see Buck this evening when the three of them are hanging out at Tommy’s, so at least he won’t have to miss Buck for long.

As the engine rolls out onto the street, Hen gets her headset situated first. “What are we dealing with, Cap?” she asks.

“Hit-and-run,” Bobby answers from the captain’s seat. “According to dispatch, there’s one victim: male, early thirties, unresponsive. A witness called 9-1-1 after a truck ran a red light and t-boned another vehicle.”

Any call involving car accidents always presses on the bruise on Eddie’s heart that will never fully heal. He can feel the tension in the engine suddenly, both Hen and Chimney doing their best to pretend they’re not scrutinizing him. Selfishly, he wishes Buck hadn’t switched his usual shift for a doctor’s appointment. Buck would knock their knees together, then bring up some random fact to deflect attention and keep the conversation flowing, and no one would even notice.

A few minutes later, they reach the scene of the accident. The engine rolls to a stop, the ambulance not far behind, and they all pile out onto the street. Hen and Chimney grab their paramedic gear as Eddie and Bobby head towards the vehicle to get a better look at the situation.

Bobby stops abruptly and Eddie nearly collides with his back. When he turns around, his face is white. “Guys, hold up a second –”

Over Bobby’s shoulder, Eddie gets a look at the accident scene for the first time. A familiar dark silver Jeep has his heart stumbling in his chest. For a split second, he thinks Bobby merely means to warn them that the vehicle looks like Buck’s – and then he sees the licence plate.

The world narrows down to a single, horrible point.

Male, early thirties, unresponsive.

Eddie shoves past Bobby. Fingers grapple with his turnout coat and he shrugs them off. He feels like he’s moving through molasses as he approaches the Jeep. The others are shouting behind him but it’s just a buzz of incoherent sounds. The driver is slumped over the steering wheel, his head turned away, but Eddie doesn’t need to see his face to know.

It’s Buck.

There are smears of blood all over the white fabric of the airbag. Eddie rips off one of his gloves and reaches through the broken window, pressing his trembling fingers to the underside of Buck’s jaw. It’s as though Eddie’s own heart stops beating until he feels the gentle thump of Buck’s pulse beneath his fingertips.

“I’ve got a pulse!” he yells.

Hen and Chim are suddenly at his side. Chim yanks on the crumpled driver’s side door a couple times, swearing violently as it refuses to budge. “We need the jaws!” he barks.

Eddie should sprint to get the tool from the engine, do something to help, but he’s frozen to the spot. He can’t make himself take a single step away from Buck. This can’t be happening. Two minutes ago everything was fine, and now the world is ending.

“Eddie! You need to move!”

Move? No, there’s no way in hell he’s going anywhere –

“Eddie!” Someone grabs his shoulder and spins him away from Buck. He meets Bobby’s steady gaze. “Chim needs room to use the jaws. Just one step.”

One step. Eddie nods robotically. He can do that. Bobby carefully guides him into position, and Chim wastes no time in jamming the tool into the mangled mess of the Jeep’s door. Eddie blinks and notices bits of glass in Buck’s hair, sparkling as the noonday sun shines down on the scene. He finally removes his hand from Buck’s pulsepoint to carefully brush the glass away. Hen gets the cervical collar around Buck’s neck, and Bobby hands Eddie a blanket so he can carefully drape it over Buck to protect him from debris as Chim uses the jaws to pry the diver’s side door open.

The metal screams as it’s pulled apart. It seems to take forever, but eventually the door gives way with a pop. Eddie finally steps back to allow Hen and Bobby to rip the door open. Then they’re all in each other’s space as they reach for Buck, all four of them helping to transfer Buck’s terrifyingly limp body to a stretcher.

Once Buck is strapped onto the gurney, Hen and Chim barrel towards the ambulance. Eddie manages one step after them before he’s doubling over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the pavement. Bobby sticks by his side, placing a hand on Eddie’s back to steady him.

“Fuck,” Eddie swears, wiping a hand across his mouth. He looks up just in time to see Buck getting loaded into the back of the ambulance.

“Can you drive?” Bobby asks.

Eddie nods, and starts towards the ambulance. Bobby catches his elbow. “Eddie, can you drive?” he asks again.

“Yeah, Cap,” Eddie croaks.

Please, let me do something to help him.

Bobby searches his face, then nods. The two of them hurry to the ambulance, Bobby closing the rear doors as Hen and Chim work on Buck in the back. They scramble into the front seat. Bobby barely has a chance to close his door before Eddie guns it.

The drive to the hospital is a blur. It’s bright, mid-afternoon, but Eddie can’t help flashing back to a different drive to the hospital where Buck was in the back of an ambulance with Eddie at the wheel. He knows it’s not as dire this time; Buck’s heart is still beating. It doesn’t stop him from playing out all the other horrible things that could have happened to Buck when the other vehicle slammed into him. Being unconscious for a prolonged period means a TBI. Buck could have brain damage or a brain bleed or –

Eddie slams the brakes on that train of thought. Panicking does him no good; he needs to focus. Buck needs him, and he’s not going to let him down.

When they pull up in front of the hospital, Eddie can see a team of medical staff waiting for them. He gets the ambulance as close as he can to the curb before slamming on the parking brake and throwing his door open. Hopping onto the asphalt, he hurries to the back of the ambulance in time to see Hen and Chim handing Buck off to the ER staff.

There’s a laryngeal mask airway down Buck’s throat, and Eddie’s knees nearly give out as he races to catch up to the stretcher.

Hen’s rattling off Buck’s information to the doctors and nurses. “Evan Buckley, thirty-three year-old male car crash victim with suspected TBI. Agonal respiration developed during transportation. We couldn’t tube him so LMA is in place.”

“BP is 70/50,” Chim adds.

“Got it, we’ll take it from here,” one of the doctors says.

Eddie helps Hen and Chim to transfer Buck from one gurney to another. Buck disappears behind a swarm of hospital staff and then he’s whisked into one of the trauma bays. All of a sudden, everything comes screeching to a halt. There’s nothing else for Eddie to do or focus on except for the horrible reality of the situation.

His stomach roils violently, but he forces the bile back down. Scratch that, there’s one more very important thing Eddie has to do.

He digs his phone out of his turnout coat pocket. Chim notices, eyes widening as he reaches out, laying a hand on Eddie’s forearm. “You don’t have to do that. One of us can –”

Eddie shrugs him off, shaking his head. “No,” he croaks. “No, I need to tell him.”

Before anyone else can try to talk him out of it, Eddie walks off to find somewhere quiet to stand. He tucks himself away in a corner, then stares down at his phone. The urge to vomit intensifies. But he has to do this; if their positions were reversed, he’d want to hear it from Tommy.

Steeling himself, he brings up Tommy’s number and dials. With each ring, the tension in Eddie’s body winds tighter and tighter.

“Hey!” Tommy answers, bright and chipper. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. How’s the shift going?”

“Tommy…” Eddie gasps. Even though it’s only one word, he can hear how wretched his voice sounds.

There’s a sharp inhale on the other end of the line. All the cheer is gone from Tommy’s voice when he asks, “What happened?”

Eddie takes a breath, forcing himself to choke down the lump in his throat and speak clearly. “You need to come to First Presbyterian. Buck’s been in an accident.”

There’s a steady stream of people filing in and out of the waiting room at First Presbyterian. Chimney watches them all with a detached sort of interest, imagining the reasons people could be arriving or leaving. As his eyes track a couple who have clearly just been discharged, a strong pang of jealousy hits him. The 118 have been sitting in their little corner of gloom for almost an hour now with no news about Buck.

He was taken into surgery, they know that much at least. But the extent of Buck’s injuries – and the seriousness of the surgery – are still mysteries, at least until Maddie gets here.

The others aren’t handling this information limbo any better. Once they had arrived at the hospital and handed Buck off, Bobby had immediately taken them offline. There was no way any of them would be any use to the public after that shock to their systems. Beside Chimney, Hen is bent over her phone, presumably texting Karen and sorting out what to do after they pick up Denny and Mara from school. Bobby is off in a corner, his phone pressed to his ear. Eddie’s sitting directly across from Chimney, still and pale as a statue. The only sign of life is the tense rise and fall of Eddie’s shoulders with every deliberate breath he takes.

None of them have said a word to each other since Buck was taken back for surgery.

Chimney’s phone buzzes in his pocket, drawing his attention. It’s a text from Maddie, letting him know that she’s stuck in traffic but on her way to the hospital.

That had been one of the worst phone calls of his life, giving Maddie the news. Last time, Buck had been hurt on the job so there were official channels to go through to notify next of kin. The hospital staff technically should have been the ones to call Maddie and Tommy to give them the news, but no way was Chimney going to let a stranger tell Maddie again that her brother has been hospitalized.

There’s a flurry of activity over at reception. Chimney turns his head, heart leaping into his throat when he sees a harried-looking Tommy speaking with the man behind the desk. Steeling himself, Chimney prepares to get to his feet, but Eddie beats him to it. Suddenly snapping out of his daze, Eddie launches upright and practically sprints towards the check-in counter. Tommy notices the movement, turning just in time for Eddie to pull him into a crushing hug.

Chimney settles back in his chair. He watches as Eddie pulls out of the embrace slightly, keeping his hands on Tommy’s back as he no doubt gives Tommy what little information he can about the situation. Tommy’s already-grim expression grows even more distraught. When Eddie finishes speaking, Tommy reels him back in for another hug.

They cling to each other like the other a port in a raging storm. Despite everything, Chimney feels a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s glad that Eddie and Tommy have found each other, the same way that Buck and Tommy found each other. Chimney has known the guy for almost two decades and, besides Sal, he’s never known Tommy to have close friends. He always seemed to keep a careful distance from anyone who might have wanted to befriend him – unless, of course, they saved his life. But with Buck and Eddie, the three of them have settled into a solid trio. Chimney’s never had the sense that Eddie feels like a third wheel to Buck and Tommy’s relationship, and he’s never heard Buck complain to Maddie about wishing he had more alone time with his own boyfriend.

It’s good, Chimney thinks, that Tommy and Eddie both have each other to lean on while they wait on news about Buck. The last time, after the lightning strike, Eddie had been the odd one out. Chimney and Maddie had each other, Hen had Karen, Bobby had Athena – but the person that Eddie normally turned to in tough situations was the one clinging to life in the hospital bed. They’d all done their best to try and support him, but Buck’s always been the one with the knack for drawing Eddie out of his self-isolating shell.

Looks like Tommy has also learned the same special talent. He rubs his hands up and down Eddie’s back, and Eddie seems to finally allow himself to let go – at least a little bit. Chimney can only see the side of his face from this angle, but Eddie’s no longer wearing the blank mask he put on when he came back from his call with Tommy. Now, Eddie looks just as wrecked as the rest of them.

Eventually, Eddie and Tommy make their way over to the rest of their group. They slide into two chairs and practically collapse into each other. Abruptly, Chimney feels the need to avert his gaze, like he’s intruding on a private moment. The way Tommy has one arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders reminds Chimney of something he and Maddie have done for each other dozens of times. But that’s different, Eddie and Tommy aren’t …

Chimney’s eyes widen involuntarily as the thought strikes him. His head jerks up and he looks for Hen, but she’s turned away, speaking quietly on her phone. Bobby is similarly occupied, not that Chimney would be able to telepathically beam his theory to his captain anyway. He’s probably jumping to conclusions anyway. Tommy and Eddie both care deeply about Buck; he shouldn’t go making assumptions.

Shaking his head, Chimney redirects his attention to his phone. He taps out another text to Maddie, letting her know they still don’t have any updates. There’s no answer; he hopes that means Maddie’s driving again instead of stuck in a traffic jam. He wishes she wasn’t alone right now, that he could be there to comfort her. The stress can’t be good for the baby. At least here, they’re all in this together.

Come on, Buck, he thinks fiercely. You have to be fine. Neither of us can lose another brother.

By the time Maddie finally makes it to First Presbyterian, it’s been almost two hours since Howie called to tell her about the accident. She had to go from dispatch to daycare to pick up Jee-Yun, then to Anne and John’s to drop her daughter off, and then back into LA traffic to the hospital. She’s finally able to find a parking spot, feeling like she’s about two minutes away from a complete nervous breakdown as she hurries towards reception. Howie has been texting her frequently, but there’s basically been no news since Buck went into surgery.

Inside the waiting room, it’s depressingly easy to spot the others tucked away in a corner of worry and misery. Howie’s on his feet the second he sees her. Maddie’s eyes well with tears so quickly that she loses her footing as she stumbles in his direction, but Howie’s right there to catch her in his arms.

“What happened?” she gasps into his collar.

Howie holds her tighter. “It was a hit-and-run. The Jeep got t-boned in the middle of an intersection.”

She knew it was a car accident but hearing the details makes her blood boil. Someone did this to her baby brother and just took off? It wouldn’t have changed Buck’s injuries, but the thought of him trapped in the Jeep all alone…

“According to the 9-1-1 caller, he was unconscious the entire time,” Howie says, as if reading her mind. But she’s not sure if that makes it better or worse. While he might not have been consciously aware of the pain he must have been in, a prolonged period of unconsciousness is never a good thing. “You might be able to get more information than we could.”

“Right, right.” Maddie pulls out of the hug, wipes her nose with her sleeve. “Okay. Come with me?”

Howie slides his hand down her arm, then tangles their fingers together. “Right with you.”

They get in line to speak with the ward clerk behind at reception. Maddie’s antsy, glancing around the room at the television, the other people waiting to be seen, barely resisting the urge to bounce on her heels. Howie squeezes her hand, tapping out a staccato rhythm with his fingers. She focuses on the feeling, the intermittent pressure, the slight roughness of his fingertips.

Eventually it’s their turn. Maddie steps up to the desk, her pulse pounding in her ears. “My brother, Evan Buckley, he – he was in a car accident. I was just wondering if there were any updates?”

The ward clerk smiles kindly at her. “He’s still in surgery. He’s got the best people working on him.”

Maddie nods, moving off to the side to let the next person in line up to the front. It’s not like she expected anything else, really, but the attempted assurance does nothing to soothe her frayed nerves.

With a comforting hand on her back, Howie guides her over to where the 118 have set up shop in the corner of the waiting room. Both Tommy and Eddie look up at her with brittle hope, their faces falling when she shakes her head. She sits down next to Hen and Howie grabs the spot next to her. Wordlessly, Hen reaches out and takes Maddie’s hand, and Maddie gives her a grateful squeeze back.

When Buck’s doctor finally arrives to give them an update, Maddie doesn’t notice her at first. She wonders if she’s in enough of a daze that she missed the doctor asking for family, or if the doctor saw their group – most of them in first responder uniforms – and made an educated guess. Either way, it’s Howie’s gentle nudge that draws Maddie out of her cocoon of worry.

Only when Howie nods in the doctor’s direction does Maddie notice her presence. Immediately her pulse skyrockets as she gets to her feet.

“Maddie Han?” the doctor – Dr. Garmus, according to her name tag – asks.

“Yes, that’s me,” Maddie croaks. She tries to calm her racing heart by noticing that she hasn’t been pulled somewhere private. She remembers that from the last time she saw Daniel in the hospital all those years ago. They’d been in his room when machines had started to shriek. The care team arrived, moving them all to the waiting room. Maddie had spent the next few hours entertaining Buck – just over a year old, just learning to toddle around on his own – while their parents paced anxiously back and forth. When Daniel’s doctor had finally appeared, he’d ushered them into a private room to break the news.

Maddie will never forget the sound of her mother’s scream.

She shakes the memory off, focusing instead on Dr. Garmus’s face. “How’s my brother?”

“He’s out of surgery,” Dr. Garmus says. There are more than a few sighs of relief behind Maddie. “He was bleeding internally, has a broken wrist, a dislocated hip, some cracked ribs and a depressed skull fracture. We’ve placed him in an induced coma to protect his brain while he heals.”

The words induced coma bring all the tension right back into the group. Maddie’s palms start to sweat as she’s thrust back to those horrible few days in the hospital after Buck was struck by lightning. Back then, there hadn’t been any promises about his recovery chances. Maddie clings to the doctor’s phrasing – while he heals. Surely that means they’re optimistic at least?

“He’s also on a ventilator,” Dr. Garmus continues, and Maddie reaches out to clutch Howie’s hand. “We were concerned about his breathing when he was admitted and we don’t want him aspirating while he’s sedated.”

“Can we see him?” Maddie asks.

“Of course. He’s been moved to a room in the ICU, so only a few at a time, please.”

Maddie nods. She’s depressingly familiar with ICU visitor rules at this point. Turning around, her heart aches as she surveys everyone’s anxious faces. They’re all desperate to see Buck but she can only bring one of them with her.

She knows who she would want to see if she were in Buck’s position. “Tommy,” she says.

Tommy’s head snaps towards her, as if he’s somehow surprised that Maddie’s called on him. He hesitates, eyes flicking to Eddie – but Maddie doesn’t have the time or energy to try and parse what that look means. She needs to see her brother. The doctor starts walking and Maddie follows. Behind her, she hears the stumbling footsteps of Tommy presumably catching up to them.

Even though she knows what to expect, Maddie’s heart still stutters in her chest when she follows Dr. Garmus into Buck’s room. The ventilator’s mechanical breathing brings back a host of traumatic memories from the lightning strike, and Maddie can feel the despair rising inside her like a tidal wave. She focuses on what’s different this time: no bandages on Buck’s hands from where his skin was burned, no angry red tree-like lines peeking out from underneath his hospital gown. His face is littered with cuts and bruises from the crash, and his left wrist is covered in a cast.

He looks both worse and better than the last induced coma. Worse, because the damage from the collision is so evident, where the lightning strike had mostly been internal. Better, because he’s not barely clinging to life this time.

“Do you have any questions?” Dr. Garmus asks.

Maddie startles, having forgotten she isn’t alone. “How long do you think he’ll need to be sedated?”

“It’s hard to say. We have him scheduled for a CT scan tomorrow to monitor the swelling in his brain. Once we get those results, we can hopefully provide a more accurate timeline for recovery.”

“What about brain damage?”

The doctor keeps her expression carefully neutral. “It’s hard to say until we get more results. The fact that he was unconscious for so long after the accident is a cause for concern. Unfortunately, with head injuries, it’s often just a wait-and-see approach.”

Maddie knows this, but the words still feel like cuts to her heart. Her baby brother is hurt again and there’s nothing on earth she wouldn’t do to make it all better, but all she can do at the moment is wait.

Dr. Garmus leaves, and Maddie drops into one of the chairs at Buck’s bedside. Leaning forward, she brushes a few errant curls off his forehead. Tommy sits down on the other side of the bed and immediately grabs Buck’s hand, weaving their fingers together. His eyes are wide as he scans up and down Buck’s comatose body. When his gaze lands on the ventilator, Maddie can see his shoulders tense. It strikes Maddie that this is Tommy’s first time seeing Buck with a serious injury. She knows he came to the hospital when Buck dislocated his shoulder, but this is something else entirely.

“The first time he was ever in a hospital, he was just a baby,” Maddie says quietly. “You’d think I’d be used to seeing him like this, but…”

“I think that would only make it harder,” Tommy murmurs. “Going through this so many times with someone you love.”

Maddie’s throat constricts. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear her vision, but a few tears slip down her cheeks. Turning towards her purse to grab some tissues, Maddie catches a glimpse out the window into the hallway. A sad smile spreads across her face. She should have known the rest of their family wouldn’t hang back forever.

Her eyes find Howie first. He offers her a little smile that she returns shakily. Hen is right next to him, a hand on his shoulder as she intently scrutinizes the various readings on Buck’s vital signs monitor, no doubt trying to come to her own conclusion on the severity of his injuries. Bobby’s arms are crossed over his chest, and Athena must have arrived just after Maddie and Tommy left for Buck’s room, as she’s standing at her husband’s side.

And then there’s Eddie, hanging back from the others, looking like he might vomit at any second.

Maddie is cast back to the last time Buck was in a coma. Eddie haunted the hall outside Buck’s room like a ghost, always offering to go on coffee or food runs to the cafeteria, but hardly ever actually venturing inside himself other than when Christopher demanded a visit. Maddie hadn’t begrudged Eddie’s hesitance; it had been hard for her to see Buck like that as well. With their parents actually around that time, it had brought back too many memories of Daniel’s last days.

Tommy tears his eyes away from Buck, following Maddie’s gaze. When he sees Eddie, he straightens up a little. Maddie’s not sure what silently passes between them, but a few moments later Eddie's moving, walking slowly until he’s standing next to Howie and Hen.

Maddie finally fishes the tissue pack out of her purse. Extracting one, she dabs at her eyes, and then notices the dark smudges. She forgot she was wearing mascara. No doubt she looks like a racoon now.

“I’ll be right back,” she announces.

Tommy nods, and returns his attention to Buck.

Outside the room, Howie intercepts her. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“I just –” She gestures to her face. “Just need a second to clean up.”

Howie pulls her in for a hug, pressing a kiss to her tear-stained cheek, and Maddie allows herself to sink into the embrace for just a moment. Then she straightens back up and goes off to find the nearest bathroom.

She doesn’t actually look as bad as she thought, once she sees herself in the mirror. Her mascara hasn’t run all that much; instead, she mostly looks as though she’d slept in makeup from the night before. A quick splash of water on her face and some rubbing with more tissues and she at least doesn’t look like a hungover party girl anymore.

When Maddie makes her way back to Buck’s room, there’s one person missing from the group gathered in the hallway. Eddie. She wonders if he’s once again volunteered to go on a coffee run, and then she peers through the window to Buck’s room and sees that Eddie’s actually inside. Instead of occupying Maddie’s seat, Eddie’s apparently dragged another chair over and is sitting beside Tommy.

Howie shrugs apologetically at her as Maddie stands next to him. “I’m sure you can go back in. You are next of kin.”

“It’s okay,” she says, winding her arm through his. “Everyone else deserves a turn.”

She notices the way Eddie and Tommy lean into each other, the agony on their faces as they both watch Buck’s chest rise and fall mechanically – and she wonders.

There’s been a spring in Buck’s step recently. It’s reminded Maddie of those first weeks into his relationship with Tommy, when everything was giddy and exciting and new. When she’s asked him about it, he’s been evasive and giddily flustered. Now, as she looks on at Tommy and Eddie holding a vigil by her brother’s bedside, she wonders if she’s found the answer.

A small twinge of sadness prickles behind Maddie’s breastbone. Buck told her almost immediately about Tommy – both times – so why hasn’t he come to her about this yet? Was he worried that she wouldn’t understand, that she’d judge him? The rational part of her brain tries to tell her that’s not the case; of course he’ll tell her when he’s ready. But now she can’t help but worry that he might not ever get the chance.

That Buck might never get to meet his nephew.

She curls her arm protectively around the swell of her belly. No, she can’t think like that. Buck’s a fighter. He knows how many people who love him and are waiting for him. He’ll come back to them – to her. She’s sure of it.

And she can’t wait to see the brilliant smile on his face when he tells her about Tommy and Eddie.

Hen is in the hallway outside of Buck’s room finishing up a phone call with Karen when she spots Athena in her uniform making her way down the hall.

“I love you,” Hen says into the phone. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Love you too,” Karen answers. “Text me when you’re on your way.”

“I will.”

She ends the call and pockets her phone, turning towards Athena as she approaches.

“Just you today?” Athena asks.

Hen shakes her head, then nods towards the window to Buck’s room, which is currently empty. “Buck’s getting another CT scan, so I kicked Eddie and Tommy out to get some food.”

“Good call. I think Bobby’s gone through all of our Tupperware trying to make sure everyone’s getting fed.”

“And we thank him for it,” Hen says seriously. Not having to rely solely on cafeteria food or takeout for the last two days has been a godsend. “How is Bobby doing?”

“He’s keeping busy. If he’s not on shift, he’s either here or in the kitchen, cooking.”

They share a wry smile. Bobby’s been doing an admirable job of getting people from other shifts to cover for them so someone is always at the hospital with Buck, but unfortunately that means Bobby’s got the short end of the stick when it comes to taking time off to visit.

Hen pointedly looks at Athena’s uniform. “So, I assume this isn’t just a social visit?”

“It is not.” Athena sighs, crossing her arms. “I wanted to tell you all before it hits the news. We arrested someone in connection with Buck’s accident.”

Hen blinks. After the last few days, she’s almost forgotten that the driver who hit Buck was still out there somewhere. “Are you sure it’s the right person?”

“Yeah. A body shop called the tip line, had a truck come in with some suspicious damage.”

Makes sense, Hen thinks. A firefighter seriously injured off-duty after a hit-and-run – especially a handsome one like Evan Buckley – has generated a lot of news coverage. “And?”

“Just a damn kid.” Athena’s mouth twists into a grimace. “He broke down crying when Rick and I walked into the shop. Confessed everything before we even got him in the squad car.”

Hen can’t bring herself to muster up any sort of pity at the moment. Sure, the culprit might be just a kid who panicked, but he still left Buck hurt and bleeding in the street and didn’t even have the decency to call 9-1-1 himself. “Well,” she says, “at least that’s one less thing for Maddie to worry about. You have told her, right?”

“First call I made,” Athena says. “She told me who was here today, and I thought I’d deliver the news in person since I was nearby.”

“Thank you. Seeing it on the news would have been quite the shock.” Hen makes a mental note to keep Denny and Mara away from the news before she and Karen have a chance to talk to them. “Do you want me to call Eddie or Tommy? Tell them to come back so you can talk to them?”

Athena shakes her head. “There’s no rush. Let them have a bit of a break. Lord knows they need it.”

They’ve all certainly been stretching themselves thin since Buck’s accident, but Tommy and Eddie seem to be barely keeping it together. Tommy’s taken a very understandable leave of absence from work, and when Eddie isn’t at home with Christopher, he’s at Tommy’s side next to Buck. The both of them could use a few more minutes of peace before Athena’s news dredges up more chaotic emotions.

“I was going to get a coffee from the cafeteria,” Hen says. “You want one?”

“I’ve already had two today,” Athena says. “Any more and I’ll be up all night. You go; I’ll stay here in case they bring Buck down before Eddie and Tommy get back.”

Hen nods. As silly as it might seem, none of them have been keen to leave Buck alone for even a moment. They all rest a little easier knowing that at least one person is watching over him.

Leaving Athena to take up her post outside Buck’s room, Hen makes her way to the cafeteria. The coffee’s nothing to write home about, but it’s become something of a perverse comfort after all the times she’s been here keeping watch over her family and friends. Hen’s not superstitious – not really – but every time she’s had the hospital cafeteria coffee while worrying over someone, that person has pulled through and recovered. Indulging in a little positive thinking for Buck now can’t hurt.

When she reaches the cafeteria, Hen heads straight for the coffee station. She’s just about to grab a paper cup when she notices two familiar figures standing in line to pay for food.

Hen really shouldn’t be surprised that they didn’t leave the hospital.

Eddie and Tommy both have trays laden with various odds and ends from the different food stations. Hopefully the trays mean they’re at least going to sit down and eat at one of the tables instead of bringing the food back to Buck’s room. Hen hangs back at the coffee station, watching them pay. She’s not above escorting them to a table if she has to.

But thankfully there’s no need for an intervention. They pay and then head over to a nearby empty table. Tommy takes Eddie’s tray so that Eddie can pull the chairs out. Eddie sits down first, and then Tommy sets the trays down on the table. Before he takes a seat, he ducks down and presses a quick kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head.

Hen’s eyebrows fly up.

As Tommy sinks down into the chair, Eddie turns to him with a tired smile, his mouth forming a thank you. Instead of reaching for the food, Tommy leans into Eddie’s side, resting his forehead against Eddie’s jaw. Eddie’s face crumples slightly now that Tommy can’t see him. He brings a hand up to cradle the back of Tommy’s neck, his fingers digging into the tension that Hen can see from here.

Hen doesn’t want to go making assumptions. She knows that men who are physically affectionate with each other are easily stereotyped.

It’s just… that’s something that she would do with Karen.

She remembers that first night in Denny’s hospital room on Halloween, after the car accident, leaning into Karen as she finally let herself collapse. It had been instinct to seek comfort in her wife and to give comfort back in return. God knows they’d both been traumatized that night, and could intimately understand the other’s fear and how they needed to be soothed.

It looks like that’s exactly what Eddie and Tommy are doing.

Coffee forgotten, Hen slowly retreats from the cafeteria before she’s noticed. They aren’t hiding – not exactly – but they clearly don’t know they’re being observed by someone they know.

For one heart-stopping moment, she wonders if she’s witnessing an act of infidelity. But then she takes a breath and thinks back on their behaviour over the last few days. The thought of anyone seeing Hen with Eva had Hen tense and nauseated, but she hasn’t caught a whiff of remorse from either of them. While Eddie and Tommy haven’t been so blatant in their physical affection at Buck’s bedside, it’s not like they’ve been deliberately avoiding each other either. There’s no air of guilt or shame between the two of them – just the quiet agony of two people going through something terrible together.

So, if it’s not cheating, then Hen’s stumbled upon a different secret. One that they obviously aren’t ready for people to know about yet – and Hen doesn’t want to burden them with any additional stress.

When she returns to Buck’s room, Athena is still posted up in the hallway. The room is still empty, Buck not having returned from his CT scan yet. When Athena notices her, she gives Hen a bemused look.

“Changed your mind about coffee?” Athena asks.

“Something like that,” Hen says.

Athena drops Bobby off at the hospital on the way to her shift. She squeezes his hand and promises she’ll be back to pick him up on her way home. He thanks her with a lingering kiss to her cheek, and then climbs out of the car.

Bobby waits until Athena’s car disappears into traffic before heading into the hospital. It’s a familiar walk up to the ICU. On the way, he passes nurses and doctors that he recognizes from the various visits over the years, and nods politely at them. Everyone knows about the firefighter in the ICU that he’s here to see.

When he arrives at Buck’s room, he peers through the window to make sure that Buck is there and hasn’t been taken away for various testing. The anxious roiling in his gut settles at the sight of Buck safely tucked into the bed, a nurse at his side doing the daily blood draw. Bobby waits outside patiently until the nurse is done, and then steps into the room once she’s left.

He’s not surprised at all to find he’s not the first visitor.

Eddie and Tommy are both asleep on the couch inside Buck’s room. They’re leaning against each other, Eddie’s head on Tommy’s shoulder, Tommy’s cheek resting on Eddie’s hair. A deep ache settles behind Bobby’s ribs as he takes them in. From the state of their clothes, they’ve been here overnight. Bobby knows they were here all day yesterday as well, Eddie only briefly leaving to pick Christopher up from school and bring him for a visit before taking him home again. Evidently, Eddie had come back to stay the night.

They both look exhausted. Even in sleep, Bobby can see the weariness and worry on their faces. Dark circles are smudged under their eyes, and their hair is greasy and unkempt, like it hasn’t been washed in days. It probably hasn’t; Bobby doesn’t think either of them have been home for more than half an hour since the accident.

It tugs at Bobby’s heartstrings. He remembers the first time he ever held a bedside vigil for Buck, back after his first date with Abby ended with an emergency tracheotomy. Bobby was Buck’s emergency contact, and it had just been him and Abby in the hospital room. Now, there’s been a steady stream of visitors to keep Buck and each other company as he sleeps and heals.

From Maddie’s updates in the group chat, Bobby knows that the doctors are happy with Buck’s progress. Despite their optimism, though, neither Tommy or Eddie seem willing to leave Buck’s side for more than a few minutes at a time, even if someone else is there to watch over Buck. It’s incredibly endearing, but Bobby knows that if Buck had any say in the matter, he’d send them both home to get a proper night’s rest.

And a shower.

Bobby clears his throat loudly. Tommy and Eddie startle awake instantly in a flail of limbs. Their eyes immediately dart to Buck, checking for any change, before they notice Bobby standing in the doorway.

“Cap?” Eddie croaks, rubbing at his face. “What time is it?”

“Just after 9 a.m.,” Bobby says. “You’ve been here all night?”

Tommy nods tiredly. Almost absentmindedly, Eddie lays a hand on Tommy’s knee and squeezes. Bobby tracks the gesture, and the way Tommy relaxes at the touch. Bobby’s not blind; he knows that Eddie and Tommy hit it off after they met, bonding over their mutual interests in mixed martial arts and classic cars, but recently their dynamic has shifted.

Or it might be more accurate to say that it’s evolved.

Bobby might not fully understand it, but he doesn’t need to. What he does understand is that the three of them are happy. That’s all Bobby’s ever wanted for them: Buck, desperate to be seen and loved by someone who will stay; Eddie, struggling like Atlas under the weight of responsibility from all that’s been thrust on him; and Tommy, who thinks of himself as a collection of broken and jagged pieces, only good for hurting. They deserve this precious thing they’ve built together – which is why Bobby’s certain that Buck is going to be okay.

“You should go home for a bit,” Bobby says. “Get some sleep in an actual bed.”

Tommy and Eddie both recoil at the suggestion, like the thought of leaving Buck’s side is physically painful. It could very well be. Bobby knows with aching clarity how impossible it is to leave the bedside of someone you love, the same way he knows the bone-deep exhaustion that’s slowly dragging Eddie and Tommy down into the depths. Having been the one in the hospital bed more times than he’d like, he also knows how hard it can be for the caretakers to take care of themselves.

“Cap –” Eddie starts to protest.

“I’m not saying you can’t come back later,” Bobby says, holding up his hands in appeasement. “I’ll be here all day while Athena’s at work, so you guys can go home. Take a nap. Take a shower.”

Eddie glances at Tommy, who obviously hasn’t warmed to the suggestion either. Bobby decides to pull out the big guns.

“You know Buck would want you to take care of yourselves,” he says.

Guilt flickers over both their faces. Bobby almost feels bad, but he can see Eddie and Tommy heading for a hard crash. And they’ll both need to be well rested for when Buck gets to go home.

“Go,” Bobby orders gently. “I’ll watch over him, and I’ll call you if anything happens.”

With one last lingering look at Buck, Eddie and Tommy reluctantly slink out of the room.

Bobby settles into one of the chairs at Buck’s bedside. “Hey, kid. I hope you don’t mind, but I sent your partners home for a bit, so it’s just me. Between the two of us, they were starting to smell a little rank.”

Laughing quietly to himself, Bobby watches Buck’s face for any reaction. There isn’t one, predictably; he’s still being kept under sedation, but Maddie said his doctor thinks the swelling in his brain has gone down enough to wake him up from the coma soon.

Bobby can’t help but flash back to the moment he realized it was Buck involved in the accident – the way it felt like his blood froze in his veins, like he’d taken a step into a waking nightmare. Part of him wishes he could have spared his team the trauma, but another part of him is infinitely grateful that it was the 118 that ended up responding. There’s no one else he would have wanted to get Buck to the hospital. Bobby doesn’t have to wonder if Buck got the best care at the scene because he knows. However it turns out, no one could have taken better care of Buck than them.

Leaning forward, Bobby fusses with Buck’s blankets a bit, tugging them into a more acceptable position. It’s been a few days since he’s been able to sit with Buck properly, instead of grabbing measly half-hour windows during visiting hours. He assesses the changes to Buck’s appearance: the bruises and cuts are starting to slowly fade, and his scruff is threatening to turn into a beard; his hair is a bit greasy but not tangled or unkempt, like someone has taken the time to carefully comb through his curls.

It hurts seeing Buck like this again, but some of the sting is dulled by the knowledge that he’s being well taken care of.

He’ll be absolutely miserable when he wakes up and finds out how long he’ll be off work to recover. The old protective instinct in Bobby wants to play it even more safe, keep Buck out of harm’s way for as long as possible, but he knows that’s not fair of him. Buck will be chomping at the bit to come back to at least light duty as soon as he can. Hopefully Bobby will be able to enlist the help of Tommy and Eddie to convince Buck to at least try to take it easy.

Bobby reaches into his bag and pulls out a book. A few days ago, when Bobby’s short visit had overlapped with Maddie’s, he’d heard her talking to Buck’s sleeping form about the new release. Apparently it’s from the same author of young adult novels Maddie read when she was younger, and that Buck would borrow despite his protests that he didn’t actually like them all that much.

Opening the book, Bobby flips past the first few pages until he gets to the introduction. “If you don’t remember any of this,” he says to Buck, “you can have this when you wake up. I bought it for you anyway.”

Buck doesn’t stir, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with the machine.

Bobby clears his throat and starts reading. “‘‘Around the turn of the nineteenth century, the Scottish tinkerer and chemist James Watt began working on a new project…’”

Six days after the accident, the doctors decide that Evan’s intracranial pressure has gone down enough to bring him out of the coma. Tommy and Maddie are both at the hospital when Dr. Garmus gives them the news, and Tommy swears Maddie nearly crushes his ribcage when she hugs him. He hugs her right back, mindful of the baby bump.

Evan is slowly weaned off the sedatives and the ventilator is removed, and then it’s another waiting game to see when he’ll regain consciousness.

Waiting is almost more tortuous than when Evan was in the coma. When he was sedated, obviously no one was expecting Evan to so much as stir, but now Tommy’s heart flips in anticipation every time he looks at him, wondering if this will be the moment when his eyes finally open.

It doesn’t happen the first day, which Dr. Garmus said was to be expected. Still, it’s a bitter disappointment when he and Maddie leave at the end of the day. Eddie coming in to take the night shift soothes the sting slightly. Howie and Jee-Yun spend a few minutes visiting before they take Maddie home, and Tommy hangs back so he can have a few moments alone with Eddie and Evan. A part of him still rebels at the idea of leaving Evan alone for even a moment, but Tommy knows that Bobby was right when he warned them they were running themselves ragged. Now Tommy and Eddie take it in turns staying with Evan, so one of them at least can attempt to recharge to take the next shift.

After “just ten more minutes” turns into forty-five, Eddie shoos Tommy out of Evan’s room with a gentle kiss that softens the blow.

Maddie has a prenatal appointment that she can’t keep rescheduling, so Tommy returns to the hospital in the morning by himself. It’s not lost on him the trust that Maddie is placing in him and Eddie, letting them watch over Evan in her stead. He stops by Eddie’s favourite coffee shop on his way to First Presbyterian, figuring Eddie will need a pick-me-up after spending a restless night in the hospital. Sure enough, when he steps through the door to Evan’s room, he finds Eddie sleeping in a chair at Evan’s bedside, his neck bent at an awkward angle.

Tommy takes a moment to just look at the two of them. The ever-present anxiousness in his chest dissipates slightly at having both Evan and Eddie close again, some old hypervigilant tendencies triggered by recent events. Even after Evan recovers – because he will recover; Tommy refuses to imagine any other outcome – it will be a long time before Tommy won’t panic over letting Evan out of his line of sight.

Quietly, Tommy makes his way over to Eddie. He places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and shakes gently. Eddie’s brow furrows and he grunts out an absolutely adorable, annoyed noise that has Tommy’s mouth curving up in a smile. When Eddie blinks his eyes open, his gaze finds Evan first before shifting to Tommy.

“Morning,” Tommy says.

“Mmm,” Eddie mumbles, stretching.

Chuckling quietly, Tommy hands the coffee over, then drags another chair over to sit next to Eddie.

“You’re the best,” Eddie says, taking a sip with a grateful smile.

Tommy leans over and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Anything happen overnight?”

“No. I tried to stay awake for as long as I could, just in case, but he didn’t so much as twitch.”

Tommy’s eyes flicker back to Evan. Despite the doctors’ optimism, there’s one thing that has Tommy’s chest tightening with worry. With a head injury like Evan’s, and the fact that he was unconscious for so long after the accident, Dr. Garmus has been frustratingly vague on what that might mean for any cognitive impairment.

“What if he has memory damage?” Tommy whispers, finally giving voice to the fear that’s plagued him for days. “What if he doesn’t remember me?”

“Hey.” Eddie reaches out with his free hand, circling his fingers around Tommy’s wrist. “Even if that happens, you really think he wouldn’t fall in love with you all over again?”

That’s what Tommy loves about Eddie: he doesn’t dismiss his fears or tell him not to worry. They’ve both been through enough tragedy that it’s hard not to jump to worst-case scenarios. But Eddie meets him in that fear and still manages to offer him a light in the darkness.

“Besides,” Eddie continues, “if he’s going to forget anything recent, it’ll be me.”

And Tommy understands. It’s only been three weeks since the three of them sat down and had a long, honest conversation about what they wanted – and Evan’s spent one of those weeks now in a coma. Tommy nudges his knee up against Eddie’s and keeps it there. “He’s loved you for a long time. His heart won’t forget that, even if his brain might for a minute.”

Eddie shoots him an appreciative, if slightly dubious, smile. “Whatever the case, we’re in this together. God knows it’ll take the two of us to keep Buck …”

He trails off suddenly, his face going slack with surprise. The coffee cup slips from his fingers and hits the floor, splattering everywhere.

“Whoa!” Tommy jerks his feet away from the mess. “What –?”

But Eddie’s not looking at him. His wide eyes are fixed on something behind Tommy.

Tommy whips his head around.

Evan’s eyes are open. Barely – just tiny slivers of blue peeking out from under heavy eyelids – but it’s all Tommy’s been desperate to see for days. He surges forward, grabbing Evan’s hand between his own and trying not to squeeze too tightly, at the same time that Eddie scrambles for the nurse call button.

“Evan?” Tommy gasps, still hardly daring to believe it. “Can you hear me?”

Between one long blink and the next, Evan’s gaze slides over to Tommy. His brows furrow slightly in confusion. Tommy doesn’t know how lucid Evan is at the moment, but it’s obviously enough to tell that something is wrong. His mouth opens and all that comes out is a choked, raspy noise.

“You were intubated,” Tommy explains, and Eddie practically lunges for a half-full water bottle left on the overbed table. “That’s why your throat hurts.”

There’s not much of a reaction on Evan’s face, but his hand cradled between Tommy’s gives a weak squeeze, hopefully in acknowledgement. Before Tommy can work out how to best explain what happened, Eddie helps Evan to carefully sit up a bit so he can drink from the water bottle Eddie holds up to his lips.

Unable to help himself any longer, Tommy asks hoarsely, “Baby, do you know who we are?”

Evan blinks slowly a couple times, his throat working as he swallows. “Tom,” he croaks. “Ed.”

Tears spring to Tommy’s eyes. He lifts Evan’s hand to his mouth and presses fervent kisses to his knuckles. At Evan’s side, Eddie makes a quiet, wounded noise and buries his nose in Evan’s hair.

It’s then, of course, that Evan’s care team arrives.

Dr. Garmus and several nurses bustle through the doorway. “Gentlemen, could you give us some room?” she asks.

Tommy’s whole body revolts at the idea of stepping even a foot away. His instinct is to curl protectively around Evan, to keep him as close as possible, but he knows that he needs to let the medical professionals do their job.

He looks back at Evan. “We’re not going far, okay? We’ll be right here.”

Evan doesn’t acknowledge him one way or the other, but Tommy can feel the nurses hovering at his back. He gently places Evan’s hand down on the bed at his side, then gets to his feet. On the other side of the bed, Eddie looks like he’s about to face a firing squad as he stands and backs up a few paces.

Dr. Garmus takes Eddie’s place beside the bed. One of the nurses turns to Eddie. “Sir, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside?”

Now Eddie looks like he’s been punched. He manages one step towards the door before Tommy intercepts him, tugging him into his side.

“He stays,” Tommy says firmly.

The nurse looks at them but doesn’t argue. Once she turns away to join her team around Evan’s bedside, Eddie sags against Tommy.

“Thank you,” Eddie murmurs.

Tommy holds him a little closer. “You have just as much right to be here as I do,” he says, and then turns back to Evan.

He knows he needs to call Maddie, send the long-awaited news to the group chat, but he also knows the moment a message goes out his phone is going to explode with incoming calls and texts, and he’s helpless to do anything but focus all his attention on Evan – at least until he gets the rundown from the doctor and has something more specific to relay than just he’s awake!!!

He and Eddie hardly dare to breathe as they watch Dr. Garmus examine Evan. Penlights are flashed, reflexes and range of motion are checked, questions are asked, and someone finally notices the spilled coffee on the ground and mops it up with some paper towel; Tommy has a hard time keeping track of anything over the all-consuming relief welling up inside him. Evan is awake. He remembers Tommy, remembers Eddie, and the world has its colour back again.

Dr. Garmus steps away from Evan’s bedside and walks over to them. Tommy snaps back to attention and straightens his spine. “How is he?” he asks.

“He’s pretty confused and disoriented, which is to be expected after a head injury and the coma,” Dr. Garmus says. “We’ve got him in line for another CT scan, but right now I’m not concerned about any permanent damage to his brain.”

Tommy’s knees honest-to-god buckle, and it’s only Eddie’s solid presence at his side that keeps him upright.

“We’ll run more tests as he recovers, but right now the best thing for him is to have someone familiar sit with him until the confusion passes,” the doctor continues.

“We can do that,” Eddie vows solemnly.

After the care team leaves, Tommy and Eddie quickly take their seats next to the bed. Evan’s drifted off, evidently exhausted from whatever brief tests he’d been run through, but it’s obvious he’s sleeping instead of sedated; his quiet little almost-snores are music to Tommy’s ears after days of the mechanical sounds of the ventilator breathing for him.

“We need to tell people,” Eddie murmurs, like he’s afraid to wake Evan up.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and then has to pause to laugh a little hysterically. “I’m so fucking glad this is the news we get to give them.”

“You and me both,” Eddie says. “You call Maddie, I’ll call Bobby?”

“Sounds great.”

Maddie answers the phone on the first ring, her voice trembling with anticipation. Tommy barely gets the words out before he and Maddie both get choked up. At his side, Eddie’s in a similar position as he talks to Bobby. Tommy blinding reaches for Eddie’s free hand and weaves their fingers together as they each sniffle through their phone calls.

“Maddie’s going to head over as soon as she can,” Tommy says after he hangs up.

“Same with Bobby,” Eddie says. He squeezes Tommy’s hand, still clutched in his own. “He said he’d tell Hen and Karen. Sounds like we’re going to have a full house.”

Tommy grins at him, then gazes softly at Evan. “Then we better enjoy the quiet while we can.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as they wait for the others to descend on the hospital. Evan wakes up every few minutes, confused and disoriented like Dr. Garmus warned, but always happy to see Tommy and Eddie at his side. Sometimes he manages to mumble out some mostly-comprehensible questions and other times he just smiles lazily at them before immediately dozing off again.

The next time Evan comes to, the fog in his eyes has cleared a bit more. He blinks confusedly at Tommy and Eddie, his face twisting into a slight grimace as he haltingly surveys his surroundings. “Wh’happ’ned?” he slurs.

Eddie fields the question this time. “You were in a car accident.”

Evan’s eyes widen slightly. “Okay?” he asks, a touch of panic creeping into his voice. While it cuts at Tommy to hear his distress, it’s the first time Evan seems to be able to grasp the severity of the situation, which is oddly encouraging.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Nuh.” Evan shakes his head slowly. “You okay?”

A startled chuckle slips out of Tommy. He looks at Eddie, who has a matching expression of disbelief on his face. Of course Evan’s first concern would be his partners, not himself. God, Tommy loves this man’s incredible heart.

Eddie recovers first. “You’re okay, so we’re okay.”

Tommy reaches out and carefully takes Evan’s hand. He leans forward slightly so he can lift Evan’s hand to his lips and press a dry kiss to his knuckles, taking a moment to inhale the scent of Evan’s skin. Eddie shifts closer, wrapping his fingers around Tommy’s wrist so he can deliver his own kiss to Evan’s hand as well. With Eddie’s face so close to his, Tommy’s unable to resist temptation, and he leans in. Eddie meets him halfway and they share a quick, close-mouthed peck.

When they turn their attention back to Evan, they find him relaxed against the pillows, a dopey smile on his face as he watches them.

“Love you both,” he sighs, his eyes slipping closed. Between one breath and the next, he’s asleep again.

The shock of those words reverberates through Tommy’s body. He’s known it on some level, but to hear Evan actually say it so easily… Overcome, he drops his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder, reaching for some of Eddie’s strength to keep it together. He doesn’t want to look like he’s been bawling his eyes out when the first visitors show up and freak them out.

“Do you think he knows that’s the first time he’s said that?” Eddie murmurs. He brings his hand up to stroke gently through Tommy’s hair.

Tommy grins, nuzzling more into Eddie’s shoulder. “Do you think he’ll even remember? He’s pretty out of it.”

Eddie shakes with quiet laughter. Then Tommy feels a kiss pressed to the top of his head. “Well,” Eddie says, “I’m sure he’ll tell us again when he’s ready.”

Humming, Tommy closes his eyes. For the first time in a week, he can finally, finally relax.

When Tommy’s truck finally pulls up in front of his house, Buck feels as though he could weep with relief.

Ever since his lucidity improved enough that he wasn’t confused every time he woke up, he’s been itching to get out of the hospital and recover at home. Buck knows there was some sort of debate that took place out of his earshot as to where he would convalesce – the loft apparently being out of the question – and between Maddie, Tommy and Eddie, they decided that Tommy’s place would be best. Even though Tommy’s house has two floors, unlike Maddie’s or Eddie’s, it would be calmer and quieter.

Buck honestly didn’t care as long as he got to sleep in a real bed and finally have a real shower.

The drive was agonizing. The painkillers made him feel slightly nauseous, and every bump on the road aggravated his poor bruised body. Tommy tried to keep the drive slow and smooth, to the point that Buck joked through gritted teeth that he was driving like a grandma. Eddie snorted in the back seat and Tommy flashed him a tight-eyed smile.

Between the three of them, Buck’s not sure who’s more relieved when Tommy parks in the driveway and kills the engine.

“Home sweet home,” Tommy announces, getting out of the truck.

Buck goes to open his own door but Eddie beats him to it – practically throwing himself out of the back so he can lunge forward and open the door. Buck barely refrains from rolling his eyes. For him, he can’t even remember the day of the accident, and there was no weird coma dream this time around. It had been like he went to bed one night and then was blinking awake in the hospital to Tommy and Eddie’s worried faces. He knows the ordeal scared the shit out of them, and if fussing makes them feel more in control, then he’ll do his best to tolerate it.

Eddie helps Buck ease himself out of the truck while Tommy goes to unlock the front door. It’s a strange dance with Buck’s left arm in a cast from his knuckles to his elbow and trying to get the crutch out at the same time, but Eddie manages it eventually. If Buck has to lean on him a little bit for support while he fiddles with the placement of the crutch under his right arm, Eddie doesn’t say anything.

He hobbles around the truck and up the front steps, trying his best not to wince with every step he takes. While he was unconscious for his pelvis dislocating and being reset, it still aches every time he moves. Tommy’s waiting for them just inside the house. As soon as Buck crosses the threshold, he faceplants into Tommy’s solid chest. Tommy’s arms come around him instantly, holding him close, and then there’s a warm weight at his back as Eddie gets in on the hugging action. They stay like that for a few moments, just holding each other. Despite all of Buck’s aches and pains, he feels something settle inside of him at being sandwiched between the two men he loves.

“Where do you want to go?” Tommy murmurs. “Couch? Bed?”

“Shower,” Buck counters, even as the thought of bathing himself exhausts him. “I stink.”

“The bathing wipes can only do so much,” Eddie agrees.

“Rude,” Buck mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Unfortunately, the bathroom is on the second floor.

The stairs fucking suck. It’s awkward going with just one crutch, and he can feel Tommy and Eddie right at his back, anxiously watching for the slightest misstep. Buck has no doubt that they would have preferred to carry him up the stairs in their arms, but at least they’ve reined that instinct in and are letting him do this under his own strength.

By the time he gets to the top of the stairs, he’s sweating and feels even grosser. Everything aches – his hip, his wrist, his ribs, under his arm where the crutch is jammed – but he’s not due for another dose of painkillers for another few hours. Eddie and Tommy instantly flank him on either side, probably worried he’s about to faint and topple right back down the stairs.

Gritting his teeth, Buck forces himself the last few steps into the bathroom. He’s panting like he’s run a marathon instead of just walking up ten steps. Yeah, there’s no way he’s going to be able to stand long enough for a shower. Maybe they could drag in one of the deck chairs, or …

“How about a bath instead?” Tommy suggests, reading his mind.

Buck practically sags against the doorframe. A bath to relax his aching body sounds amazing. “God, yes.”

Tommy eases past him into the bathroom, a gentle hand on his lower back to make sure he doesn’t accidentally jostle Buck. Before Buck can get too weak-kneed about it, Eddie guides him over to the toilet and helps him to sit down on the closed lid. Buck watches with tired eyes as Tommy and Eddie get to drawing a bath. They’re a well-oiled machine, barely needing to speak as they both go about their tasks. Tommy gets the water running and tests the temperature while Eddie digs around under the sink to find epsom salts.

“We need to cover his cast,” Eddie says.

“It’s fine,” Buck says. “It’s not like I’m gonna dunk my arm in the water.”

“I’ve got some plastic bags under the sink in the kitchen,” Tommy says, ignoring him.

Buck huffs, slouching slightly as he pouts. Eddie gets to his feet, a wry smirk on his face, and drops a consoling kiss to Buck’s forehead before he hurries out of the bathroom.

“Okay,” Tommy says. “Let’s get you undressed.”

Buck would protest that he can do it himself but the stairs really did a number on him, so he just nods. Tommy turns the tap off and gives the water a few swirls with his hand to dissolve the epsom salts, then gets to his feet and dries his hand on one of the hand towels. Buck starts working on the buttons of his shirt – well, it’s actually Tommy’s button up that he and Eddie brought Buck when he was mobile enough to finally change out of the hospital gown. It’s pleasantly loose on him, and the lingering smell of Tommy’s cologne had brought almost as much comfort as the morphine drip. Once he gets the shirt unbuttoned, Tommy helps him ease it off his shoulders and over the cast on his arm. Then he carefully gets to his feet so Tommy can tug down his sweatpants and underwear.

Eddie returns just as Tommy is shuffling Buck over to the bathtub. He enters the bathroom holding a plastic bag and a roll of –

“Is that the bondage tape?” Buck asks incredulously.

“It won’t stick to your skin,” Eddie retorts.

As Eddie winds the tape around Buck’s arm, securing the bag, Buck can’t help but feel a little mournful. It’ll be ages before he’s able to contort his body into any fun position for tape or ropes.

Once the bag is taped down to Eddie’s liking, both he and Tommy help Buck carefully into the bathtub. The first touch of the warm water has Buck nearly moaning. It feels even better as he sinks further into the water, like the aches are literally melting off his muscles. He knows it’s only a temporary relief, but he’ll take it. Finally washing the smell of old sweat and the hospital off of him will do wonders for his mental outlook either way. He makes sure to delicately rest his left arm on the side of the tub and then fully settles into the most comfortable position he can find.

Tommy grabs a washcloth and wets it in the water, then adds a generous dollop of body wash to it. With one of the plastic cups kept under the bathroom sink, Eddie dips it into the tub to fill it with water. Buck obediently closes his eyes as Eddie tips the water out over his hair. He repeats the process a few more times until Buck’s hair is nice and wet, and then drizzles some shampoo onto his head. Eddie’s fingers sink into his hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp, and Buck is in heaven.

Tommy runs the washcloth over Buck’s chest and shoulders, then cleans under his armpits. He slips his hand into the water, gently scrubbing at Buck’s soft cock. Normally the slightest attention has his dick perking up like a dog, but now it doesn’t so much as twitch between his legs. Buck’s no stranger to this aspect of recovery; he’s sure he’ll be raring to go once he no longer feels like his insides have been scooped out, swirled around, and forced back into his body.

Buck feels himself sinking deeper into the tub under Eddie and Tommy’s ministrations. The first responder in him has seen too many accidental drownings in baths for a lifetime, but he trusts these two with his life. They won’t let his nose get anywhere near the water.

Eddie rinses the shampoo out of Buck’s hair, then applies conditioner. Tommy has probably cleaned every inch of Buck’s body by now but he keeps going, passing over the same areas again and again, like he’s reassuring himself that Buck is whole.

“I think the others know,” Tommy murmurs, breaking the comfortable silence. “Or suspect, anyway.”

Eddie’s fingers, still massaging Buck’s scalp, pause for a moment. A low noise of displeasure slips out of Buck’s throat. Eddie chuckles quietly and resumes his massage.

After a few moments, Tommy asks, so gently, “Are you okay with that?”

Buck forces himself to wake up a little bit. It’s a reasonable question to ask. Out of the three of them, Eddie’s been the most nervous about revealing the new nature of their relationship to their friends and family, for obvious reasons. Tommy already doesn’t speak to his family, and while Buck is a little apprehensive about how his parents might react, he knows that the people whose opinions he truly cares about will support them unconditionally.

Irrationally, Buck feels a little guilty for not noticing they haven’t been behaving in a way that gives them plausible deniability. But he’s also only been able to hold a coherent thought in his head for a little over 48 hours at this point so he should probably cut himself some slack. And he doesn’t imagine that Tommy and Eddie were overly concerned with policing their behaviour around others while he was in the coma.

“I’ve been so scared of people finding out before I was ready,” Eddie says eventually. “But after this last week, now I know how losing one of you feels. Other people knowing about us doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Buck mumbles, forcing his eyes open. “I don’t want you to feel like – like you have to do this because you were scared.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. This just… made me realize what my priorities are.” He smiles at both of them. “I want people to know what you both mean to me.”

“Yeah?” Buck says, a little breathless.

“You’re sure?” Tommy asks.

“I want to tell Chris first,” Eddie says, “but yeah, I’m sure.”

Buck’s heart flutters behind his ribs. He’s been bursting at the seams for weeks trying to keep all this happiness contained, and now he’s finally going to be able to share it with the people who matter to him most.

“Oh man,” Buck laughs, “I feel kinda weird being the only one naked for this conversation.”

Tommy presses his lips together, clearly trying to stop himself from laughing, but then Eddie snorts and sets him off. They both dissolve into fits of giggles. Buck doesn’t think he’s heard either of them laugh since he woke up.

Eventually the laughter peters out and they finish up the bath. Eddie rinses the conditioner out of Buck’s hair, and then he and Tommy help him out of the tub and bundle him into a fuzzy bathrobe. The bag over his cast is removed, and Buck does have to begrudgingly admit that the bondage tape did indeed make the removal process easier.

Exhausted again, Buck lets them help him to Tommy’s bedroom. He changes into a hoodie and sweatpants and slowly eases himself down onto the bed.

“You need anything else?” Eddie asks, as he and Tommy hover anxiously beside the bed.

Buck glances to where his painkillers and a glass of water are already laid out on the bedside table. He still can’t take them yet, but at least they’re close for when he inevitably wakes up with a pounding headache on top of everything else that already hurts. Instead, he turns his pleading gaze on his boyfriends. “Stay with me?” he asks.

“Of course,” Tommy says.

“You don’t even need to ask,” Eddie says.

Buck shuffles more into the middle of the bed to make room for them. Tommy and Eddie climb on either side of him. Usually they try to rotate positions in the bed so everyone gets a turn at being spooned, but somehow Buck imagines he won’t have much opposition for prime cuddling position for the next couple weeks.

Three years ago, Buck would have been miserable. He’s staring down the barrel of a long recovery and extended time off work, he’s only got one functioning hand, and he’s going to need so much physio again. Now, as he settles back onto the pillows while Eddie and Tommy fuss with the duvet, he finds himself feeling strangely content. Sure, he’ll probably be climbing the walls with boredom once he’s no longer in a constant state of pain, but for right now, the prospect of being tucked away with the two men he loves isn’t a hardship. He knows his job is secure even though Bobby will need to pull in someone to cover for him, and while Tommy and Eddie will have to go back to work eventually, he’s sure they’ll do their damndest to arrange their shifts so Buck is hardly ever alone.

At ease, Buck closes his eyes and drifts asleep to the sounds of Eddie and Tommy’s quiet conversation.