Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids
“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”
Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”
Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”
“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.
Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”
Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”
Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”
Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”
“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.
Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”
“Maybe he should stay away from those.”
“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.
Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”
“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.
“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”
“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”
Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”
Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”
“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.
“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”
They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”
Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”
Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”
Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”
“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”
Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”
“Yes. I would.”
Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”
“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”
“Uh huh.”
He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.
“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.
Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.
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(screenshotting the replies and posting because i feel weird replying from my main <\3 hope you don't mind the ping @startledpixel )
i never even thought about it happening that way... haha... excuse me while i go scream in a corner for a couple of minutes
it ties in really well to the sort of recurring motif i see through his life that the only time he's allowed to be truly happy with himself and his place in the world is after his "death" and recovery. kazama is a very complicated character to think about when it comes to his motivations and his relationships with the people he's close with - i don't think he's very good at prioritising his emotional investments (nishiki being the obvious example, but also the way he doesn't send any letters to kiryu in jail until the last day before his parole), so to add an extra layer of tragedy to the whole thing i like to think that he hadn't been making as much time for kashiwagi towards the end than he maybe could have been. not in a premeditated disloyalty sense, of course, but he's got his hands more than full with the whole embezzling 10 billion yen from the tojo coffers gambit... kashiwagi being the way he is though would be all the more desperate for reconciliation, and to then not get it before kazama kicks it would be the icing on the shit cake
but yeah KNOWING adachi was in the building with everyone else must have been like reliving his second-worst nightmare... meeting this man he thought he'd be able to settle down with for the first time in sixty odd years but still constantly having to worry after him. i still adore no idling as an exploration of those feelings after the fact & i find myself coming back to it an awful lot as someone who doesn't generally read fiction more than once or twice unless i'm trying to find something specific (if you may allow me my nerd moment)
it's something i would love to explore more myself, but i don't really feel i have the means to do it in a way in which i'd enjoy the end product... but i suppose that's what commissions are for!
ANYWAY, apparently, everyone kiryu meets in his side story gives him some kind of reward, and i'm having A Time thinking about what he might get from kashiwagi. i'm trying not to set myself up to be disappointed by what happens, but there's a big part of me that hopes kashiwagi pulls "suzuki" to the side and leaves whoever else on the bar for a while so they get a chance to actually catch up. i think at this point both of them really need something like that, because i doubt there's any way kashiwagi didn't get the news that kiryu "died" in 2016
the other big thing that's got me physically shaking is the idea they might finally namedrop him. and uuhhh if they still let us karaoke at survive then i hope judgement gets its own cinematic. : )
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