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buddie-buddie · 1 year

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be the lightning in me (strike relentless)

co-writer: @princessfbi 6x12 coda - 1.3k - g - read on ao3

“You died, Buck. You’re gonna feel a lot of different ways about that. Sometimes all at the same time. I found the best way to process it is to… allow yourself to feel it.”

“How do you feel about that?” The question’s been burning at the tip of Buck’s tongue since he first woke up, since he came out of the coma. Since he first saw the darkness hiding beneath Eddie’s relieved smile– lingering in his features, clinging to the shadows beneath his eyes and the stubble across his jaw.

Ever since, the question’s been swimming in his mind, itching at his skin, begging to be asked. To be answered.

Eddie sighs, suddenly very much occupied with trimming the crusts off of Christopher’s sandwich. “Buck–”

“No, I– I’m serious,” Buck presses. He has to know. He can’t bear it any longer. “E-Everyone keeps asking me how I feel. But who’s asking you?”

Eddie sets the knife down on the counter with a small huff. He walks over to the fridge, completely dodging the question. “You think Chris would rather have blueberries or grapes?”

“Grapes,” Buck doesn’t miss a beat. “Eddie.” Buck pushes because Eddie is the one person who pushes back and Buck doesn’t know why Eddie won’t even look at him.

“Don’t ask me that, Buck.”

It isn’t a request.

Buck’s breath hitches, trapped somewhere in the back of his throat because it isn’t a request. It isn’t a command. It isn’t anything more than a raw, unfiltered plea from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest.

Buck doesn’t move. Moving feels dangerous. Like he’s waiting for lightning to strike again, but instead of him, it’s Eddie up on that ladder.

But he needs Eddie to push back. How else is Buck supposed to remember that any of this is real?

“Why not?” He asks, just as raw. Just as much of a plea. Maybe even a little more desperate.

There’s something unreadable in Eddie’s expression. His voice is quiet when he speaks, rough in a way it only ever gets when thick with emotion. “Because I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Then don’t.” He swallows around the dryness that’s suddenly appeared in his throat. “I died.” Saying it out loud, saying it seriously , for the first time makes his heart slam into his ribcage.

“Yeah.” Eddie draws in a long, shaky breath, He scrubs his hand over his face, his chest rising and falling slowly. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. A moment Buck clings to because he’s starting to understand just how much can be missed in a moment. Eddie braces himself against the countertop, fists clenching so tight his knuckles turn white. “It felt like a part of me died, too.”

The push. Buck feels it as the words nudge against his chest and find their way in between his ribs. The words are frank, strong. But they feel like they could shatter any second anyway.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Buck holds his breath. “Pretend I don’t.”

“Because when your heart stopped so did mine.” Eddie says, brave and heartbroken all at once. His gaze cuts to Buck and it’s like being struck by lightning all over again. “I love you.”

Eddie’s never said that before. Not without man or dude tacked onto the end of it. And never with such a softness to it. Never with the words dripping with reverence. Never like this. It sends Buck into a tailspin, his chest squeezing and his heart pounding as he replays the three words over in his mind. His pulse hammers in his ears.

“Eddie,” he breathes.

Eddie’s chin trembles before he bites his cheek and looks away. “You were just hanging there and I– I couldn’t pull you up.” His voice breaks.

“I’m sorry.” The shaky edge to Buck’s voice wasn’t there a minute ago.

The sound Eddie barks out is harsh and catches in his nose as he shakes his head. “You don’t—”

He stops himself with a hand to his mouth, pushing away the bite of his words. Eddie curls his arms around himself like he’s trying to hold himself from splitting in two and it makes something in Buck ache.

“You don’t have to apologize for being struck by lightning, Buck,” Eddie says, softer, gentler but just as certain. There’s forgiveness in his eyes all the same.

Buck rises from his barstool, walking around the island until he’s closed the distance between them. He reaches for Eddie’s hands, taking them in his own as he meets Eddie’s eyes. “And you don’t have to blame yourself for what happened to me.”

Eddie’s gaze drops and Buck knows what Eddie’s instincts were telling him. He knows because his own are screaming at him to do the same, begging himself to stop exposing the throbbing live wire of a nerve they’d bandaged and pretended wasn’t hurting.

Eddie barely gets the space to swerve before Buck is grabbing onto the first thing he can reach. Eddie’s hips are warm and soft beneath the harsh fabric of his jeans, giving to the slight pressure of Buck’s fingertips as he holds on.

Eddie swallows, trying to back away, but Buck follows because if he doesn’t, he doesn’t think he would be able to find this moment again. The counter keeps them pinned and Buck dips down to catch Eddie’s eyes again.

“Eddie,” he breathes. He’s too close. Close enough that he can count the number of endless lashes framing those hazel eyes. Close enough he can see the heartache swimming behind them. The hope, too. “I’m right here.”

Eddie’s mouth trembles. “But you weren’t.”

“I know,” Buck says. He has the sore chest and the bruises and the lightning branded into his skin to prove it.

“Three minutes, Buck,” Eddie says, his words wet and thick with emotion fighting to break free from his resolve. “For three minutes you weren’t here. And I-I-I can’t…”

“I love you,” Buck says. Pushes because maybe that’s what they both need. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as he exhales and Buck pushes again. “I love you, too.” The words roll off his tongue effortlessly, like they’ve been waiting a lifetime for the chance. Maybe they have been.

Eddie’s face twitches before he opens his eyes again. Strong, shaky fingers tangle in his t-shirt, holding him there like Eddie doesn’t want Buck to float away.

Not even a hurricane could’ve made Buck move then.

Eddie’s eyes shine as his fingers brush against Buck’s cheek. He touches him like he’s special, not like he’s fragile. Like he’s something precious.

Buck presses his forehead against Eddie’s and a small breath from Eddie ghosts across Buck’s lips. The moment stretches between them like infinity and Buck breathes through the tension of it.

“Please,” Buck manages, the word hanging between them in the space between their lips.

Eddie kisses him and everything settles. The uncertainty snapping like static at the base of his spine softens and the low hum that’s been buzzing beneath Buck’s skin goes quiet.

His blood sings as he melts into Eddie’s touch.

A low sigh escapes his lips as Eddie pulls away too soon and Buck can’t help but chase after him.

“I love you,” Buck murmurs. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of saying it, doesn’t think he’ll ever lose sight of the wonder that comes from being in love with Eddie and from being loved by Eddie in return.

Eddie kisses him again and Buck’s breath hitches, warmth exploding behind his chest. He makes a tiny, contented noise in the back of his throat. He’s never felt more alive.

Buck was dead, but Eddie brought him back. In more ways than one.

Eddie breathes life into him in a way he hadn’t realized he so desperately needed, clinging to the inside of his lungs and permeating his soul on the deepest level. They’re two halves of one whole.

Eddie brings their joined hands to his lips and lets his lips ghost across Buck’s knuckles. And with that, the last of the ache in Buck’s chest ebbs away like the tide beneath a full moon, his heart called home to Eddie’s like waves to the sea.

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 2 years

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The Unexpected Hero

The Unexpected Hero

Evan Buckley x reader

Imagine: saving Buck (911) from and explosion and he's determined to find out who you are (from @procrastinatorimagines).

Requested: Nope.

Author’s Note: I’ve been wanting to write this ever since I saw this prompt image. Also (writing this on 7/12/22), My legs are dead after drumline camp, so I continued writing this on my night shift. Please give me feedback as this is my first time writing for 911. Was considering asking someone if they want to proof read just to make sure the content is good. Message me if anyone want to. I also reworked my masterlist so it’s not as crowded.

Requests are still OPEN. Feedback is always appreciated. Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. Also, I’m tagging @911readercollection here.

Warning: I’m not sure fire works how I exactly described it. Arsonist, bomb exploder/explodes, chase scene, arrests, I very much thought of old action movies when writing this. I didn’t proofread this. Athena being a queen.

Word Count: 1,854

It was another mind numbing day of staring at your computer as statistics went by so you could crunch the numbers for your penny pincher stick up his ass boss. And just to describe how frugal he is, he chose the cheapest office for his workers while he never showed up himself. Cheap in LA usually means poor quality, or not in a safe neighborhood. In this case, it meant both. You had to bring your own stool because you could not stand one more second of your legs sticking to those cheap plastic chairs that are “usually” used at graduation parties. At least you were left alone until you had to present your findings to your boss. However, this meant that your mind got distracted easily and sometimes fell asleep until your eyes and mind processed nothing that was on your screen.

Your mind woke up out of its stagnant state to that sound. You know, that sound. The sound that’s been drilled into your mind ever since you were young. The sound of a fire alarm going off along with its blinking lights. You were surprised the building even had working fire systems. But, you did what you were taught and you stayed low to the ground and crawled on your hands and knees keeping your hand along the wall to guide your way. You found your way to the side of the building out a fire exit. One of those exits near the trucking docks of your building. You stopped a mere couple feet from the building to catch your breath, which more ended up like you crouched to cough your lungs out. This is what you imagined smoking for 50 years felt like.

You looked up just as a firefighter started coming towards you. Do all firefighters have to imitate magazines and be super hot in uniform and way out of your league? He still had his smoke mask over his face and his helmet on, as he should , so you couldn’t make out much of what he actually looked like. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

You would have responded if something else didn’t catch your attention. Behind the fireman’s legs, you could see someone else in a gray hoodie walking away from the scene. Walking. As in “cool guys don’t look at explosions” walking, and that kind of walking away from a fire can never be good. He started to raise his right hand above his head while keeping his back turned toward you and STILL WALKING. You couldn’t be sure what he was doing or what is intentions are, but you had to take a chance.

With your strength that you found somewhere, you body slammed the fireman in the hips as hard as you could and that managed to get him, and yourself, to the ground. His arms encircled around you, out of instinct you think, and you were buried into his firejacket while his back took most of the brute hit from the ground. The office building behind you exploded like an action movie and you felt the heat from the building behind you multiply by 1000 and a loud noise ring your ears to the point where you could only hear white noise for a second.

You hesitantly opened your eyes expecting ash to sting them or you see the light of heaven letting you know that you died. Thankfully, you were still mostly in one piece, but the sight of the person you suspected was responsible running from said exploding building was the first thing you saw while lying on the ground. This isn’t an action movie, but you couldn’t convince your brain that it wasn’t.

You got up from the ground and started sprinting after the man, your body and lungs screaming at you to stop and rest, but your adrenaline said ‘no’. You kept following the man around a few corners, not even stopping to think if he was armed or not when a cop car came from an alley and hit him T-bone style. It didn’t kill him, but it flung him a few feet in the opposite direction. He definitely wouldn’t be resisting arrest anytime soon.

“Hands on your head.” you heard shout in front of you. You kept yours on the back of your head just so the cop would know you weren’t putting up a fight.

You took this opportunity to cough your lungs out in the middle of an alley because they were exhausted from being filled with smoke and then asked to run a marathon.

The cop was quick to cuff the man and lock him in the back of her squad car. She then came around and stood next to your hunched over figure. “Just try to breath deeply mame.” After a few more minutes of coughing your lungs out you finally had the strength to look up at her. Your eyes were watered and probably red from the smoke, but you could still make out most of what she looked like. She was a middle aged black woman and had short black hair that swooped to one side. She still was in her full uniform and a bullet proof vest.

“Did you get him?” Why was that the first thing you asked? No thank you, just that?

“Yes mame, we did. Your speed and quick thinking guided him right to us. What were you doing chasing a man like him anyway?”

You struggled to stand up, but you were able to keep some of your decency before you spoke to her. “I saw him walking away from my office building that exploded, and no one runs unless they have something to hide, so I just mindlessly chased after him. I chased him and you T-boned him. Problem solved.” You clapped your hands brushing the dust off them like you did a job well done.

“You were in the building five blocks from here that exploded into flames?” Have I really been running for five blocks? Wow. Might as well act as if you run regularly.

“Yes, and if the fire inspection comes to it, can I testify against my boss? He’s a frugal piece of shit, so I doubt that the building was up to code.” She seemed to give me a satisfied smirk.

“Ok. I like a strong independent women who knows what she wants. Come with me and I’ll give you a ride to the station and get a statement from you.”

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Athena, and if you ever want to be a cop or detective, I’ll put in a referral for you to get started into the training. We’d love to have you.”

So that’s how your day ended. Athena drove you and her suspect to the police station, you gave a statement of what happened and how bad the building you worked in was. You left your contact information incase they needed anything else or they wanted you for the detective job. She even gave you a ride back to your, surprisingly, not destroyed car that was parked outside of your office building.

________________________________________________________________

**Buck’s POV, later that day at station 118**

I walked back up the stairs after a shower to find most of the team in the kitchen. Bobby was making something that smelled delicious for dinner. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what happened earlier.

“Hey Hen, did some lady come to the ambulance at the fire of that warehouse office building today?” I sat down at the kitchen table next to her.

“We had a couple people there today but no one needed to go to the hospital, just needed some extra oxygen. Why, you recognize someone?”

“No it’s just…” Do I say that the muscles of a fireman lost against someone’s adrenaline. I decide to leave that part out. “Just someone was running away from the fire and after someone and I just wanted to make sure they’re ok. I couldn’t find them afterwards.”

“Hey everyone.” Athena walked up the stairs to the kitchen area and greeted everyone.

“Hey Athena.” I didn’t put too much enthusiasm into my greeting. She went and kissed Bobby really quick and came back to me. “Why you so down Buck?”

“He’s trying to find someone who ran off from the fire today.” Hen answered for me.

“You mean the one that body slammed you before the building blew up.”

Well, thanks for saving me the embarrassment Bobby. I gave him that you seriously just said that look that he’s probably given me a million times.

“Yes, that one. She just ran off after body slamming me and it wasn’t a reactionary thing she did it BEFORE the building blew up, like right before.” Athena gave me a knowingly smile apparently knowing something that I didn’t.

“Oh yes, I know who she is. She’s real sweet. Caught our bomber, gave a statement about what she witness, and was willing to testify.” She was saying this like it was no deal as easy as asking what you had for breakfast that morning.

“You know her. I wanted to see if I could thank her because she helped me avoid getting a face full of flames.”

“Well, I still have her number. But Buck …”

“Yes.” Athena always has something up her sleeve.

“Treat her right. She talked about the building she worked in. She deserves something good.”

“Yes mame.” That wasn’t even my intention, but Buck 3.0 is the most respectful out of all the Bucks.

Athena gave me her number and I went to one of the fire department office rooms where it was more quiet and less people would come in to interrupt or tease me for wanting to talk to a girl I barely met. I type in her number and wait while the ringtones go by. Then there’s that unfortunate monotone voice of an answering machine. I decide to leave a message anyway.

“Hey Y/n, it’s Buck. Well you don’t know my name yet but I’m the firefighter you slammed earlier today. Athena, the cop, gave me your number. I just wanted to thank you for saving me. You were really brave I heard, chasing down an armed aronsist. **Hurry up Buck, you have limited voicemail space** I just wanted to thank you and see if you wanted to go out sometime … so I can properly thank you in person I mean. Well I-.” The call hung me up. Hope that got saved.

I decided to take a walk around the trucks and clear my head. Before I made even one lap around, I got a text.

Hey Buck. Nice to finally know your name. Hope I didn’t hurt you too bad from the body slam earlier. My phone’s out of whack and not accepting calls since it got cracked in my street chase today, but I’d love to go to cheesecake factory with you sometime, or even just walking on the boardwalk. You text me your availability, since I’m out of a job for now. Hehe. -Y/n

Ok Buck, don't mess this up.

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