Drowning on Dry Land

Cradled In Your Arms

Somehow, he managed to drift off despite the agonizing thoughts and suffocating loneliness he was experiencing. But too soon, pounding on his door jolted him awake, ripping a pained moan from his throat as he fell off the couch and tugged at his injuries. Late afternoon light blinded him as he tried to sit up while disoriented. He managed to pull himself to his feet, massaging his leg before slowly walking to the door, but he was only halfway across the room when a key turned in the lock and it banged open— nearly sending his bike off the wall.

Eddie stood silhouetted in the doorway, breathing heavily, eyes raking over Buck.

"Hey, Eddie," Buck said weakly.

Eddie sighed with relief, leaning heavily against the frame. "You scared the hell out of me."

He watched with furrowed brows as Eddie dropped a bag on the counter and closed the gap between them in three strides.

Buck flinched slightly when Eddie's arms suddenly wrapped around his injured body. He could tell Eddie was being careful, but he was so damn confused about what Eddie was doing there. It didn't help that he wanted to bury his face in Eddie's throat and just collapse.

Eddie pulled away quickly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

He shook his head, staring at the ground, still trying to figure out why the hell Eddie was even there.

"Why didn't you call me? I would have come to get you..." He ran a hand over Buck's battered face. "Taken you home with me to get better."

Buck shrugged, finally looking up into Eddie's concerned eyes. "Why would you want to? I lost your son."

Eddie's face fell, but Buck couldn't stand to look at him. He shoved away from Eddie's warmth, curling back up on the couch as carefully as he could. He didn't need to see it on Eddie's face that he had failed them. He knew it already.

He could hear Eddie pacing the room, but he refused to turn over and watch him— not until a hand laid gently on Buck's lower back.

"Evan," Eddie murmured. "Can you look at me?"

Buck sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, before turning over to face Eddie.

Eddie ran his thumb over Buck's cheekbone soothingly until he finally opened his eyes.

"There you are," Eddie murmured, not taking his hand off Buck's cheek. "Can we talk about this now?"

Buck sighed, refusing to meet Eddie's eyes. But he shoved himself into a sitting position with a wince.

Buck waited, wringing his hands together anxiously. But Eddie just placed his hand over Buck's clasped hands and said, "You saved Christopher."

Buck opened his mouth to protest, but Eddie squeezed his hands and continued. "No. You saved him. He would not be alive today without you."

"I lost him." Buck hissed. "He's your whole world and I lost him. He could have died."

Angry tears poured down Buck's face. Just thinking about Chris being lost, afraid, hurt, or dying made him so unbelievably angry.

He flinched when Eddie wiped his tears away so gently. The kindness was unexpected. He was just waiting for Eddie to get angry— this was his son, his only son, and Buck could have killed him.

"Why are you being nice to me?" Buck mumbled. "You should hate me."

Eddie scoffed. "Buck, we almost lost you. Chris was missing, but so were you. I had just found Chris and tried to call for you, but you were missing and he was asking for his Buck. He wasn't the only one missing that day. I had to search for you, too. And then you almost died. I watched you seize and they wheeled you away from me and there was nothing I could do. "