A Light in the Darkness
Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Bobby Nash
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family, Future Fic, Alternate Universe Post-Apocalypse , Established Relationship
Notes:
I've been battling writer's block. This is all about vibes so, please just go with it. :)
Not beta-read.
...
His coordination is off; fat-feeling fingers fumbling with his turn-out coat, the snaps refusing to work. Exhausted, Eddie gives up wrestling with the damn things, yanking at the bottom until all the snaps come undone like the rest of him.
The coat slips off his shoulders, his body trembling harder after losing a layer of protection.
Eddie squeezes his eyes closed; blossoms of red and orange flash beneath his lids, his breath hitching in his throat. There's no feeling left in his hands; they tremble, reminding him of geriatric patients locked inside veteran's hospitals. The hem of his T-shirt is untucked; his bunker pants sag around his hips, his ripcord suspenders the only thing holding them up.
He yanks them off his shoulders, almost tripping over his own two feet as he staggers out of them, leaving his pants on the floor.
A voice tells him to pick them up, but he can't be bothered to care.
His jaw chattering loudly; he's so damn cold. Eddie hugs himself, longing for warmth, rubbing his hands up and down over the clammy flesh of his forearms. The wires inside his brain must mixed-up given how damn hot it is outside.
The smell of smoke still reeks in the air, filling his nostrils with ash, tickling his lungs. Black smudges stain the left side of his face; two days of rough stubble irritates his cheeks. He stumbles around his make-shift quarters, but it's difficult to see.
There's no way he can handle lighting candles, but it's okay--- he wants the darkness to consume him.
The screams, so many screams, still echo inside his ears, driving him towards the bathroom.
The cold robs his muscles of strength; they're too stiff and cramped to work right.
Somehow he figures out the shower, twisting the knobs all the way in one direction until steam billows from the spray. His belt buckle becomes a puzzle he can't solve, the laces of his boots an unfathomable obstacle.
Biting his bottom lip, not feeling the pain of splitting it open, Eddie walks under the harsh jet of water, clothes and all. He craves burning, scalding heat---like all those roaring flames.
Water soaks his t-shirt, pools in the creases of his uniform pants, his underwear, swirling down the drain.
His body won’t stop shivering.
He stuffs his hands between his armpits, sinks to his knees and rocks back and forth under the faucet.
Time stops-----loses meaning.
The building explodes, the flying debris and fireball a perfect snapshot, forever scorching his retinas. The screams of all those he couldn't reach—couldn’t find—on repeat inside his head.
Tears leave warm trains over his clammy cheeks.
“Eddie? Holy shit. Hey, I found him! I found, Eddie!"
“Eds, talk to me. Shit. I need help!"
"Buck, what’s going on?"
"I don’t know, I just found him this way."
A hand, Buck's hard, cards through his hair. 'We've been looking for you for days."
Has it been that long?
"Hen, Chim. We need you over here!"
Voices all around, a jumble of tones and emotion. Then hands, prying, pulling, lifting.
"Eddie, can you tell me what’s going on?”
He looks up, squinting at his Captain’s worried expression, but his lips are too heavy to move. Someone holds him up by the shoulders while his legs buckle under his weight.
“He's freezing." That sounds like Buck, Eddie thinks despite his muddled brain.
“And you found him like this?" Bobby asks. "Inside the shower with all his clothes still on?"
"Yeah, just like this."
Buck sounds scared. Eddie hates that he’s the reason he’s upset.
“Eddie, listen to me. You’re in shock. We’ve going to remove these wet clothes and get you warm again,” Hen tells him.
A part of him wants to smile, let her know that's fine, but how can it be? When all the voices he couldn't reach say otherwise.
The building incinerates, the cries for help swallowed up by more explosions.
Blackness closes in, sucking all the heat from his body. Anxiety grows around him, the voices of his team becoming urgent.
A part of him feels like a puppet with its strings cut, his arms and legs manipulated without his permission. His clothes are peeled away, limbs flopping back in place, dead and useless.
His skin begins to tingle all over, sharp pin pricks, angry bites of a million insects. He panics at the sensation, writhes and fights----running towards the flames.
"Eddie, it’s okay."
The hands are back, soothing, rubbing, holding him. Warm breath at the nape of his neck...coarse hair that tickles his bare shoulders. Heat soaks into his weary bones and he leans against strong muscle, rests the back of his head along a collarbone.
"Cold,” he whispers.
"I’ve got you, Eddie. I always have," Buck tells him, holding him closer.
Of course he does, Buck has always been there with him through thick and thin. Always light in the darkness.
Fingers curl around his left hand, and he’d recognize Hen's firm but gentle grasp anywhere. Goose flesh spreads across his arms, but her fingers try to soothe it away, rubbing up and down his arms.
A calloused hand pushes down on his other shoulder, and he opens his eyes, not realizing they've been closed all this time. Chim sits at his right side. “Stay under the blanket and be still."
His team surrounds him, sharing heat he so desperately needs. Chim huddles closer and Eddie feels his cheeks grow pink.
“Don’t get modest on us," Chim admonishes. "You’re slipping into shock."
Eddie understands these types of survival techniques. Body heat mixes with fresh adrenalin, causing all the hair all over his body to stand on end, hyper-aware of the close proximity of everyone.
The energy of waking saps the rest of him and despite the inner-self that yells about breaching all of his private barriers, Eddie relaxes within the warm glow.
Weapon's fire becomes a muted, fuzzy memory....one to be locked away with all the other bad stuff that if he allowed himself to dwell on, would drown him in the blackness of it all.
“You know there was nothing you could have done, right?” Buck whispers in his ear, soft and gentle. He thought he’d been sending everyone toward shelter. That was his job. To search for survivors in an all-consuming wasteland.
Eddie had guided them all toward shelter, telling them it was safe. Except it wasn’t. An explosion occurred----then nothing. It’s his fault, it’s his---
A hand squeezes his shoulder. “Don't,” Chim breathes.
Hen buries her head in his side. He can feel her eyelashes open and close against his skin. “It was an accident, Edmundo."
Eddie can still hear the screams. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles.
"You would have died if you had gone in,” Bobby’s voice rumbles off to the side where he stands guard over them.
It was his Captain who had kept Eddie from running toward the shrieks of death---yanking on his coat, the others wrestling him to the ground without a word.
"They’ll be others who need to be saved," Chim says, taking Eddie's other hand, squeezing. "And we need to be ready."
Buck holds Eddie tighter, chin resting in the crook on his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his ear. "I'll be by your side. Like always."
Maybe they’re right.
But that hadn't kept Eddie from going back out there, searching, hoping that maybe, there’d been one person left, one person out there wandering...
Eddie closes his eyes fighting against what-if’s, allowing his body to melt against Buck, basking in the protection of his team. Of his family.
"Okay,” he whispers. Knowing tomorrow, they'll all go out there again.
..
Maybe this will kick-start the Muse.
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