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this love was once mine {please god, let it be us again}

Summary:

Buck's blue soulmark on his wrist is the thing that keeps him going after his breakup with Tommy. Somewhere out there, he may still have a soulmate who loves him. He holds onto that until the day his world is turned upside down and his mark turns black while he watches Tommy collapse to the ground.

Notes:

For Tabby. Thank you for listening to my spirals about this and being so patient with me flooding your DMs.

In this world, soulmarks are random markings on your skin that correspond with an important mark on your soulmate's body: like a birthmark or a scar. They can be varying shades of color and turn black when your soulmate dies.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Buck rubs his thumb against the mark on his opposing wrist, over and over again until his skin feels raw. From the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie tracking the movement and has to make a conscious effort to release himself. He splays his fingers over his thighs and drags them down, resisting the impulse to start tapping them against his knees. When he peeks a glance at his best friend, Eddie is no longer looking at him. His shoulders come down from his ears a little as he takes a deep breath. They're about five minutes out from the fire and he needs to focus. If he's being honest with himself though, the soulmark is the only thing that's distracted him from his recent breakup. The vibrant blue line on his skin has been the reminder that he does have a soulmate out there. Somewhere. And their name isn't Thomas Kinard.

"All right, the 217 was first on scene which means Captain Rodriquez is IC." Bobby says over the headset. Buck pretends not to notice three sets of eyes move in his direction. If there's any kind of god out there, he prays that Tommy is not on scene. He knows he can be professional on scene if he stumbles across the man he loves - loved , he corrects himself - but he's still not ready to see him. Doesn't know if he ever will be. Their truck pulls to a halt and he's the first one out, taking a deep breath and regretting it as smoke fills his lungs.

The factory before him is fully ablaze, flames licking at the sky and stretching wherever they can. It's a monster with claws and fangs and will consume everything if they can't contain it. Buck pulls his mask on when he's informed there are three workers still inside and he's sent along with Chimney to aid in the rescue operation. Edwards from the 217 passes them with the first worker, gesturing back and giving directions on where he'd left Tommy searching. Buck's throat clenches at the sound of his name and he has to take a deep breath. Chimney must be giving him a look under his mask, but Buck can't be bothered to care as he calls out for anyone who needs help. Further in, he can hear someone calling back in response.

It's a joint effort rescuing the man that's pinned beneath two barrels, but they get him out. He sends Chimney out with him and continues on, calling out for anyone else in the vicinity. Two seconds later, a voice comes across his radio letting him know it's time to evacuate. The last of the workers has been located and there's the threat of a structural collapse. As he rounds the corner, his eyes fall on a familiar frame and he nearly stumbles. "Tommy." There's no way his whisper was heard above the roar of the flames, but he swears Tommy's head snaps around nonetheless. The older man waves him on and as Buck starts to step past him everything turns to shit.

He doesn't have time to process the explosion that rocks the area. One moment he's on his feet and the next he's being thrown back, crashing through metal debris and thick black smoke. There's a ringing in his ears that makes him nauseous and he takes a ragged breath, blinking a few times as he tries to process what's happened. When he inhales, he chokes on smoke and a flicker of panic lights under his skin. Because if he's breathing in smoke -

"-kley. Buckley!" Tommy's sharp voice registers and Buck claws at his mask, feeling blood around his temple as he tries to rip it off. Tommy's hand replaces his own and it takes another moment to realize that he's *also* removing his own mask, blue eyes startlingly bright in spite of the fire around them.

"T-Tommy. W-what are you-" Buck can't even finish the question because Tommy's fitting *his* mask over Buck's face, securing it quickly. He hauls Buck onto his feet and Buck stumbles, sluggishly realizing that he's hurting a lot more than he should be. He's got enough presence of mind to know that he's concussed and bleeding, but he's more worried about Tommy breathing in all the smoke. The older man keeps him pulled close to his side, leading him toward the entry point and it takes all of Buck's concentration to keep one foot in front of the other.

Between one blink and the next, he's pulled away from Tommy by his team. He tugs off the mask that's still connected to Tommy's oxygen tank, watching him while Eddie drags him back toward their ambulance to get checked out. "What the hell happened in there?"

"I-I don't know." He lifts his hand up, trying to touch his face, and realizes his fingers are coated with blood.

"Shit." Eddie starts to pull at his turnouts and he lets him, a little dazed as he realizes he's got a long cut down his arm that must have happened when he was thrown. "We need to get this cleaned up, you might need stitches."

"Y-Yeah." Buck starts, turning to look back at Tommy as he's waving off members of his own team. And then his expression shifts. He takes a step, reaches up for his chest, and he's on the ground before Buck has fully comprehended something's wrong. 

“Buck-“ Eddie starts, but Buck is already trying to tug his arm free and go investigate. 

“Tommy?” His voice cracks, heart thudding unevenly in his chest as he waits for Tommy to get back up. Edwards is on the ground in front of him and he watches as Lily sprints toward them, barking orders as she hits her knees. Distantly, he hears someone saying his name again, but his focus is lasered in on his collapsed ex. Because Tommy still hasn’t gotten up. 

“Buck, wait-“ Eddie grabs at him as Buck lurches, trying to move to the scene. 

“No pulse, starting compressions!” Lily shouts, moving into position. Buck thinks he’s going to be sick as he watches her force Tommy’s chest down. Even from here, he swears he can hear the crack of ribs. 

“Tommy…please…” He croaks, tears filling his eyes. “Wake up. Get up,” he begs. He stumbles forward a step and realizes that Eddie is no longer trying to hold him back. His fingers have gone limp on Buck’s arm and he feels like a marionette with his strings abruptly snapped. Something compels him to look down and he turns his arm, staring uncomprehendingly at the red smeared over a solid black line. 

“Go with him.” Eddie plants a hand between Buck’s shoulder blades, fisting the back of his shirt as Buck’s legs threaten to give out. “I’ll tell Bobby and we’ll come to the hospital when we can.”

“He-he’s-“ Buck croaks out, the taste of ash heavy on his tongue. Nothing makes sense right now, but he must listen. Next thing he knows, he’s in the back of an ambulance while Lily continues to do compressions and Edwards gets his arm cleaned up. The ride to the hospital feels like the longest of his life. They bring Tommy back twice and each time, Buck’s pulse roars in his ears and his vision swims. 

Words are shouted when they reach the hospital, information passed off, but he barely hears it. He stumbles after them until Tommy passes through doors that he can’t follow him through and then he breaks. A sob tears from his throat, scraping him raw from the inside out, and he collapses just as Lily reaches for him. She guides him onto the floor, cradling him to her despite the fact she’s practically a foot shorter, and softly shushes him as he breaks the way he hasn’t in weeks. 

Time slips from him after that. He winds up in a waiting room chair surrounded by the 217 and eventually, the 118 trickles in and fills the remaining spaces. He can feel the weight of their stares on him, the sorrow of Bobby’s gaze, and bile climbs up the back of his throat. He doesn’t get sick, but it’s a damn near thing. His thoughts are buzzing restlessly in his head, a field of static that he’s not sure he can break through at the moment. Not sure he wants to. 

It’s another few hours before a doctor calls for the family of Thomas Kinard. Buck doesn’t hesitate to get to his feet, letting Eddie grab him by the elbow and guide him closer to hear what they’re telling Captain Rodriguez. “…lost him once on the table, but we managed to get him back. He’s a lucky man. We managed to remove all the shrapnel from his side and located the source of his internal bleeding. It’s going to be a long recovery, but he’s stable now.”

“Can he have any visitors?” Tommy’s captain asks. 

“One for now and only for a few minutes. It’ll be a few hours before he’s awake and longer for him to be coherent.”

“You’re up, Buckley.” She fixes him with a look and Buck swallows hard, immediately wanting to step back. “Bring us back some good news.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says quietly. 

“We’ll be right here waiting.” Eddie tells him, squeezing his arm before letting go. Buck nods and takes a deep breath, following after the doctor. It’s not a far walk, but Buck feels like the world around him is spinning by the end of it. 

“Five minutes.” The doctor tells him, pushing open the door. Buck nods and steps inside, slowly looking at the bed. 

Tommy Kinard is not a small man, even under the fluorescent lights and wearing a hospital gown. He still seems larger than life and Buck half expects him to open his eyes any second and deliver a one liner. But the steady hum of machinery and amount of wires attached to him are quick to sober his thoughts as he moves closer. Tommy’s pale, his skin looking paper thin, and his fingers don’t grip back when Buck finds his hand. He squeezes twice and takes a ragged breath, clearing his throat as he stares down at the man he loves. 

“I wish I hated you.” He whispers around the thick lump in his throat. “That would make this so much easier. And you…what the hell were you thinking?” He rasps, abruptly blinking back tears. “You…you shouldn’t have…” He opens his mouth and the next thing that comes out is a sob. His knees crack as he hits the floor, a broken wail escaping him that he hastily muffles against the side of the bed. 

He hates him. Hates the way that this is how he finds out that his soulmate - the person who is supposed to love him in spite of his flaws, the person who is supposed to be his missing piece - is the one who walked away from him. He thinks eventually he would have recovered if he’d never known the truth, but now he does and he can’t stop thinking about it. Everything had been manageable believing there was someone else out there. His heart had been broken, but he’d told himself they weren’t forever despite how badly he had wanted it. He’d learned that his desires rarely meant much in the grand scheme of his relationships. 

Tommy had been different, a fresh breath of air, a light in the dark - and he’d walked away. He’d shattered Buck’s heart and it spilled out across his loft, bloody footprints left in the imprint of Tommy’s shoes. And Buck had picked up the broken shards, cradled them close, and vowed that he would heal himself and find his soulmate. That he would move on, just like he always did when people left, and he’d learned the lessons this relationship was meant to teach him. Life sure had a way of fucking kicking him when he was down. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, sobbing against Tommy’s bed. No one comes to the room to remove him and no one tries to check on Tommy. Eventually, Buck cries himself out and feels empty inside. He swipes a wrist against his eyes and swallows, looking up at where his hand is tangled with Tommy’s. Like this, he can see that perfect black line on display. The thing that will forever stain his skin, a reminder of his darkest day. A brand that screams his soulmate died once and Buck was forced to watch it happen. He can tattoo over it a million times and he’ll never be able to forget. 

Tommy’s fingers twitch against his own, his face shifting minutely, but that’s all Buck needs. He rips his hand free and stumbles from the room, shaking all over as he heads for the closest bathroom. He barely slams the stall shut before he’s on his knees again, pouring the contents of his stomach as a sacrifice to the porcelain gods. He throws up until there’s nothing but acid burning his throat and his vision is swimming again. When he’s done, he collapses back against the stall door and tilts his head back while closing his eyes. 

Eddie finds him later. Buck doesn’t register it at first, but Eddie’s arms are under him and hauling him onto his feet. He’s guided to the sink, mouthwash pressed against his hand, and he swishes it around until his mouth doesn’t feel like something crawled inside and died. Wet paper towels are pressed into his hands and he cleans himself up as best as he can, refusing to look at his reflection for too long. Eddie remains silent, keeping a hand on one of his shoulder blades as he lets Buck take things at his own pace. 

“You saw it,” Buck finally says when the silence is too heavy. “You…you saw it-“ He breaks himself off and watches Eddie’s reflection nod. “I should have felt it.”

“You did, Buck. I’ve never heard you…that scream…” Eddie’s voice wavers and then his brows knit together. “What do you remember?”

“I-I don’t…” Buck swallows and tries to remember anything from the last few hours, but it’s all a blur. “I screamed?”

“You tried to break your arm to make me let go trying to get to him. I thought I was going to have to sedate you,” Eddie tells him. “The mark…the moment I saw the color start to fade, you lost it.”

“He-he gave me his oxygen mask. The shrapnel…” Buck starts and stops again, a growl of frustration bubbling from him. Why can’t he remember?

“There was an explosion at the fire. None of us were in there, but it looked like he put himself between you and the blast. His right side was pretty messed up according to Lily.” When Buck closes his eyes, he can see flashes from the back of the ambulance. Lily’s bloodstained hands, her begging Tommy not to die on them, but the pieces are still disjointed. 

“I…I think he shoved me out of the way. He-he gave me his mask…” Buck swallows hard and tries to focus. He remembers seeing his own cracked, the panic he’d felt, and Tommy sacrificing his own for Buck to use. 

“He saved you,” Eddie says, “because he still loves you.”

“Fuck him. He left me.” Buck snarls. He straightens up and attempts to shove past his best friend, but it takes more energy than he has and Eddie catches him when he stumbles. There are no tears, his body doesn’t have anything left to give, but his legs give out and Eddie’s arms come around him at once. “He left!” He shouts hoarsely, digging his fingers into Eddie’s shirt. 

“I know.” Eddie’s hand soothes up and down his back while Buck trembles against him, dry sobs breaking apart in his mouth. 

Eventually, Buck is shuffled back into the waiting room and dropped into a plastic chair. Maddie’s there with a thermos of tea and half a sandwich, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while he leans into her and eats. No one asks him how Tommy is doing or if Buck’s going to be okay. He’s sure they all know about his mark by now, but he’s so damn glad no one points it out. He’s still ready to claw his way out of his own skin. 

Hen is the first to leave, hugging him fiercely and telling him that Tommy’s going to pull through. He can only nod, tears threatening to spill over, and watches her go. Chimney and Maddie are next, apologizing that they need to go and pick up Jee after getting a call that she isn’t feeling well. He dismisses them with ease, offering a broken smile and a reassurance that he’ll go home and rest when he knows Tommy is awake. That leaves him with Bobby and Eddie, one on each side of him, and Lily’s awkwardly curled up in the chair across from him. He’s met the tiny aeromedic a few times, knows she considers Tommy to be a brother to her, so it’s no surprise she’s still here. 

A nurse comes for them in the early hours of the morning, letting them know that Tommy’s vitals are strong and he’s awake. Buck feels everyone look at him, waiting for him to be the first to go and see, but he can’t. His feet are rooted to the floor. Eddie takes a second look at him and then he’s gone, turning the corner before Buck can process that he’s made a decision. He sinks back into his chair, eyes burning as he stares up at the ceiling. Next to him, Bobby shifts. 

“He’s going to be okay, kid.” 

“Yeah. He’s a fighter.” Except when it comes to us, a vicious whisper tells him. “I should…he probably…”

“He misses you.” Lily speaks now and Buck tilts his head to acknowledge her. “He’s been miserable. I’ve never…I didn’t know what happened. I thought you broke up with him or something. He wouldn’t tell any of us and snapped every time we asked. Eventually we gave up.”

“He did, too.” Buck whispers. 

“So now you get to kick his ass.” Lily tells him. “It’s not like he can run away.” Bobby chuckles and she smiles. “Whatever happened, you two can work through it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because your kind of love is once in a lifetime. And I don’t think you want to lose him again.” She says, pushing up from her chair. “I’m going to check on him and then drag Eddie out to get breakfast. Give me five and then go see him.” She instructs, already walking before Buck can protest. 

“She’s something.” Bobby says with a quiet chuckle. 

“Tommy likes her a lot. Says she’s the little sister he never had.” Buck explains, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Thanks for staying with me all night.”

“You’re family, Buck. So is he.” Bobby squeezes his knee. “I’m going to stay here while you see him. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to talk about, but you need to go home and rest. You don’t want to overload him.” He advises gently. All Buck can do is nod. He’s too strung out to ask for advice, his entire body is one throbbing ache now, and he’s dying to shower off the remnants of blood and catch some sleep. But all of that has to wait. 

When Lily and Eddie pass through the waiting room on their way out, they each give him a hug and nudge him toward Tommy’s room. He lets muscle memory carry him until he’s standing in the doorway, looking at Tommy in the bed. His eyes are closed, chest slowly rising and falling, but the set of his shoulders reveals that he isn’t asleep. “Come on in,” he murmurs without looking. And Buck does just that, shuffling around the bed and sitting down in the plastic chair beside him. When he settles, Tommy slowly opens his eyes and pins him with tired baby blues. “Hey, Evan.”

“Tommy.” He doesn’t know how it’s possible for his body to still produce tears, but they well up in his eyes and he sucks in a shaky breath. Tommy’s fingers stretch for him and Buck grasps them without hesitation. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Tommy’s thumb rubs over the black mark and Buck makes a wounded noise before he can stop himself, gasping for air. Tommy’s eyes go wide and he tries to sit up, wincing and going pale. 

“Stay down,” Buck begs raggedly. He doesn’t even recognize his voice, hoarse and scratchy, and Tommy’s expression shifts. His eyes drop down to the spot where his thumb is resting, at the end of a solid black line, and slowly travel back up. 

“Evan…”

“Surprise.” He laughs bitterly and scrubs his free hand over his face. “You walked away from your soulmate.”

“That’s not…” Tommy’s brow furrows. “Mine died-“

“And we should have fucking talked about that. I-I died. From the lightning strike.” He says even though he knows Tommy will get it immediately. “I-I didn’t want to push when you said they died. I thought…and you kept it covered…”

“Because it hurt.” Tommy says, voice high and pained. “It fucking hurt to remember their death every. Single. Day.”

“Yeah. I can relate.” He tips his head toward the line on his wrist, permanently darkened, and swallows. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do.” Tommy agrees. He looks exhausted, blinking heavily as he continues to stare at Buck’s mark like it’s got some kind of answer for him. They’re both quiet for a moment, trying to find some way forward, and he doesn’t have to wait long. “You need sleep.” Tommy says. He loosens his hold and reaches up, brushing the pad of his index finger under Buck’s eye. “You stayed?”

“I couldn’t…I needed to know you were okay.” Buck tells him. “I’m really mad at you.” Tommy flinches, but he holds Buck’s gaze nonetheless and nods. 

“You should be.” He says, fingers shifting to cradle Buck’s cheek. 

“You died. You died and…” Buck shakily inhales and leans into the touch. “I’m scared if I go home, this will be a dream. I’ll wake up and you’ll be dead.”

“I’ll be here if you come back.” Tommy says carefully. And Buck knows he’s giving him a way out. A chance to walk away if he doesn’t want to get hurt again. He hates him a little more. 

“A shower and a nap.” Buck tells him, clearing his throat. “I should go. You need rest.” The chair scrapes across the floor as he gets up, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he closes the gap between them and leans down to press his lips to Tommy’s forehead. The man grabs his wrist and lifts it up, lips touching the black line that Buck desperately wants to claw from his skin. Tommy’s lips linger until he has to let go, yawning hard enough that his entire body shakes. “Rest.” Buck whispers against his forehead. 

“You too.” Tommy tells him. 

It’s hard to walk out of the hospital room, but Buck forces one foot in front of the other until he’s back in the lobby. Bobby smiles gently and claps him on the shoulder, guiding Buck to his truck. When he reaches the first light, Buck asks him to turn left instead of right and guides him to Tommy’s house. It’s mostly a quiet drive, but Buck’s breathing a little easier now and knows Bobby is giving him time to process everything. He assures his captain that he’s fine to be dropped off, retrieves the key from its hiding spot, and steps inside the second place that feels like home. 

Tommy’s artwork frames the small hall that leads him to the kitchen and living room. Buck brushes his fingers along each frame, taking it all in like this might be the last time. When he reaches the kitchen, he stares at the dishes in the sink and tells himself it’s the least he can do. So he grabs the gloves from under the sink and gets to work, grateful there’s something for him to do. Next he takes out the trash and the recycling, dragging both bins to the curb when he remembers what day it is. 

He’s on the second load of laundry when the front door opens and Eddie walks inside. “What are you doing here?” He asks, resting the laundry basket against his hip. 

“I should be asking you the same question.” Eddie says with a pointed look. “You owe me twenty bucks.” He brushes past Buck and heads into the kitchen, setting a bag on Tommy’s counter. “Put the laundry down and come eat.”

“I can’t-“

“I’ll do the damn laundry. Sit.” Eddie says firmly. Scowling, Buck drops the basket and goes to take a seat at Tommy’s kitchen table. It’s a small round table, somehow still a perfect fit for two bulky firefighters, and Buck loves the worn grooves in the wood. Eddie sets a container and bottle of juice in front of him and Buck’s grateful there’s a simple breakfast inside. He’s not sure he can stomach much else right now. While he pokes around at the eggs, Eddie goes off with the laundry basket and returns when Buck’s scarfing down the last bite of toast. 

“Thanks.” He says, downing the rest of the orange juice. Eddie sets a second bottle down in front of him and then grabs his shoulder. 

“Drink that and then shower. Then bed. I will strip you down myself if I have to.”

“Tommy says I’m not your type.” It earns him a playful tug on his earlobe and he actually laughs, ducking away. Eddie lets him drink the juice in silence and he’s grateful there’s no need for small talk. He doesn’t know what to say. When he’s done, his friend takes the empty bottle and nods. 

“Go shower.” Eddie tells him, stepping back from the table. “I’ll handle cleaning up.”

“Fine.” It’s hard to get back on his feet, but he doesn’t sway much and counts that as a small victory. He trudges to Tommy’s bathroom and strips himself out of the clothes Maddie had brought him at the hospital, bundling them in the corner. When he steps under the spray of hot water, exhaustion finally hits him like a tidal wave. He doesn’t dare sit down, afraid Eddie really will have to come in and help him, and it takes a Herculean amount of effort to clean himself up. But eventually the water runs clear and he gets out of the shower, grabbing a fresh towel to wrap around his waist. 

When he searches the drawer dedicated to him in Tommy’s dresser, he doesn’t know how he feels to find it untouched save for the blue hoodie he knows he last put in there. Frowning, he digs through the drawer and comes up empty. He’s pretty sure he put it away last time he did laundry with Tommy, but maybe he’s wrong. He finds a pair of his boxers and then opens the next drawer, grabbing the red tank top Tommy had worn when he’d slept on Buck’s couch after dislocating his shoulder. He brings it up to his nose, inhaling deeply, and wishes Tommy’s scent were stronger. But he’s not about to dig through the man’s laundry and find something he’s already worn. That will be what breaks him again. 

He crawls under the covers on Tommy’s side of the bed and shoves an arm under his pillow, starting to pull it close when his hand hits something. Lifting up, he moves the pillow to the side and finds his missing hoodie. Something tugs fiercely at his heart as he rolls onto his side, hugging his hoodie against his chest. Tommy’s been sleeping with it under his pillow. Tommy wants a piece of him near. Maybe he’s been using it to torment himself, but Buck hopes that it’s been a source of comfort instead. As hurt as he’s been, he thinks he’s finally ready to let go of all his anger. 

“Buck?” Eddie knocks against the frame of the door and he jumps, looking up with wide eyes. “I was going to head out. You need anything else?”

“Will you stay?” Buck asks him. Eddie nods without question, walking over and laying down on Buck’s side of the bed. He opens an arm and Buck crowds instantly against his chest, throwing an arm around his waist. It’s probably weird to cuddle his best friend in his ex-boyfriend’s bed, but he thinks he can overlook it. 

“Sleep.” Eddie tells him quietly. “I’ll take you back to him after you get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Buck murmurs, his eyes already closed. 

-

He sleeps in short bursts, waking when the blood of his nightmares feels like it’s choking him. The seventh time he jolts awake after seeing Tommy bleed out, hand turning to dust in Buck’s while blood still drips from his mouth, he decides to stay awake. He doesn’t feel particularly rested, but a glance at the clock on Tommy’s nightstand reveals that nearly four hours have passed. Eddie’s sitting up against the headboard, scrolling absently through his phone, and he sets it down on his thigh while Buck rubs his face. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“No.” Buck admits. His stomach twists as he lowers his hand and catches sight of the black line. “Is he…”

“Still alive. Chimney saw him about an hour ago and said he was doing good. They had him up to walk around the room.”

“Already?” Buck asks, feeling nauseous at the thought. 

“Hen says it’s a good sign. They’ll keep him for observation for a few days and then release him to come home. We’re already working with Bobby on scheduling our shifts so someone can be with him at all times. You’ve got the first week.” Eddie says, tapping on his phone and turning it to show Buck a color coded calendar. 

“You…you guys want to help?”

“He’s our friend, too. Even if he’s a dumbass.” Eddie tells him. “Get ready and I’ll take you to see him. We can stop for burgers on the way.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Buck rolls away from him and heads into the bathroom. He cleans himself up and changes shirts, throwing one of Tommy’s hoodies over it before he starts grabbing things for Tommy. A charger for his phone. The book on his nightstand that has a bookmark in it. A change of clothes for when they release him. Little by little, he fills a small duffel and hoists it over his shoulder. Eddie doesn’t say a word when he comes out, he only offers to lock up the house and gives Buck the keys to his truck. 

Tommy’s waking up again when he and Eddie arrive, tiredly telling them off when he realizes they have food that he can’t have yet. Eddie rolls his eyes and fishes a twenty from his wallet, slapping it down on Tommy’s table that’s holding his cup of water. “Buy yourself something nice.” He says. Something niggles at the back of Buck’s memory. 

“You made the bet?” He asks, raising his eyes to Tommy’s. 

“I asked Eddie to go and check on you. I didn’t think you’d go back to your loft,” Tommy admits quietly. “Evan-“

“I saw the hoodie.” He blurts out. Tommy nods, closing his eyes and tilting his head back toward the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Kind of figured you would.”

“He also cleaned your house and nearly passed out at your kitchen table.” Eddie says around a mouthful of fries. Buck glares daggers, wishing he could melt Eddie on the spot, but unfortunately his best friend doesn’t disintegrate. Instead, he licks sauce from his fingertips and smiles at Buck. 

“You didn’t need to clean anything.” Tommy finally says. Buck doesn’t think it’s what he really wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to begin crossing that bridge. 

“Sure I did. There were dishes. I didn’t want you to get bugs.” It’s a lame excuse, but no one calls him on his bullshit and he’s grateful for it. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiff,” Tommy sighs. “Exhausted. I could probably fall back asleep right now,” he admits. “Did you rest?” His eyes blink open slowly, head turning so he can take the chance to study Buck’s face. Buck has no fucking clue what he sees there, but it makes Tommy frown and his skin prickles. 

“Enough,” he says and shrugs. He doesn’t know how the fuck he’s meant to navigate this, telling the soulmate he’s no longer romantically involved with about his nightmares. He’s pretty sure he never received the script for this part and he’s blind. 

“Clearly you two need to talk.” Eddie sighs, getting up and grabbing his drink. “I’ll be in the lobby. Don’t do anything stupid.” He fixes both of them with a look. Buck rolls his eyes and Tommy snorts, grunting immediately after with his face twisting up. 

“Get out of here.” Tommy says, waving him away. When Eddie disappears down the hall, blue eyes drift back to him. “Evan-“

“I kept having nightmares about you dying. I couldn’t stay asleep.” Buck tells him, swallowing. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now.”

“Whatever you’d like,” Tommy holds his gaze. “Whatever you’re feeling is valid.”

“Will you…” Buck stops, weighing his words for a moment, and Tommy nods. 

“I was in the shower when I felt my soulmate die.” He begins, fingers picking at a loose thread in the hospital blanket draped over him. “I’d finished a workout and was getting myself cleaned up and ready for bed. One second I was fine, the next I was on the floor. It felt unimaginable, Evan. I watched this beautiful pink mark turn black and my entire future disappeared in front of me.” Tommy rubs at his chest, as though he still feels the phantom pain, and Buck reaches for his free hand. “It was…not a good night for me. I drank until I blacked out and I don’t remember anything. When I came to, my living room looked like an animal had torn it apart and my blood was staining a lot of the furniture. I should have died, Evan. I tried to.”

“You…” Buck chokes on the image of Tommy alone, bleeding out in a new way, and Tommy’s thumb strokes over his wrist. He flinches at each pass over his mark, but his fingers tighten around Tommy’s when he tries to let go. 

“I didn’t want to find happiness without my soulmate and I was angry. I’d finally gotten to a good place in my life and suddenly I was more alone than I’ve ever felt. I didn’t know how I was supposed to grieve the loss of something that had never been mine.” Tommy goes quiet for a long moment, sighing. “Three months later, I decided if I couldn’t have a future with the love of my life, at least I could try and have fun. I started jumping into things without thinking of the consequences. And then I met you.”

“Your mark…” Buck starts. He’s never seen it before, knows Tommy kept it smothered under makeup during their time together, but he thinks he knows what it is. 

“It’s your birthmark on my thigh.” Tommy says, strained. “When I first met you, I thought I was looking at a ghost. Then I convinced myself that they weren’t identical. Because I remembered how it felt when my soulmate died and there you were, smiling and laughing with that blue line on your wrist. I never thought you could be mine.”

“Tommy…”

“I was falling in love with you and I hated myself for it. Hated myself for moving on from my soulmate. It felt like betrayal. When you asked me to move in, I realized how deep I was in this and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Because how could I let myself be happy with anyone that wasn’t my other half? And you could still have someone out there. I hated myself, Evan. So I thought if I walked away, if I said I was trying to save my heart…”

“You thought that I’d give up because my soulmate was still out there.” Buck murmurs. “Did you ever…I mean, it’s my birthmark…” He gestures vaguely with his free hand and Tommy looks away. 

“Once,” he admits carefully, “right before our six month dinner. You fell asleep when we were watching that action movie and I really let myself look at you. I’d done it before, but this time was different. I realized there was a chance it could be you. There was still so much I didn’t know about you. I could have looked up the date of your lightning strike and I would have figured it out. But I couldn’t…”

“Were you scared to be happy?” Buck asks, struggling to find an answer in all of this. “You didn’t want to know? Or was…was I too much?” Maybe Tommy didn’t want to be saddled with the truth. He was a decent guy, maybe he would have felt obligated to stay together and-

“Stop.” Tommy pleads, squeezing his hand. “Evan, it’s not like that. I had already lost you once. I lost you and I barely survived it. That was before I knew you and loved you. If I had to go through that again…I would never recover.” His blue eyes are a storm, misty and endless, and Buck exhales shakily. 

“I never thought about what it would be like for my soulmate. That my mark would have turned black for them. But then yours did and I…I saw a future without you in it and I don’t want that, Tommy. I want you. I want us. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I want. Letting you walk out was a mistake and-“

“It wasn’t your job to chase after me-“

“I should have!” Buck exclaims, digging his fingers into Tommy’s hand. “You walked out because you were scared and I rushed this like I always do. I didn’t…I could have…” Frustration bubbles through him and his anger has nowhere else to go. “I’m so mad at you. You-you could have died trying to save me-“

“And I would do it again.” Tommy interrupts firmly. “I would choose your life over mine every time-“

“But I don’t want that!” Buck explodes, lurching to his feet. Their fingers are still snagged together, Tommy’s grip tightening like it’s a lifeline. “I want you to choose us .” His chest heaves, heart pounding near his throat, and he stares down at Tommy for what feels like hours. Finally, Tommy nods his head. 

“Okay.”

“I-wait, what? O-okay?” He stammers in reply. 

“I want this, Evan.” Tommy holds his gaze, looking so sure of himself for the first time since Buck’s entered his hospital room. “I want you. I want us. I want to come home to you every single day and remind you that we’re still alive when our marks say we’re dead.” Tears rush to Buck’s eyes and Tommy nods, his thumb moving over the mark for the umpteenth time. “You make me feel alive. For the first time since the day you died, I finally felt like there was a future ahead of me. It terrified me, Evan, but I wanted it so badly. I’m sorry I tried to run away and ruin what we have. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

“I-I don’t want that.” Buck says. Tommy’s face falls at once and he internally kicks himself. “N-no. That’s not…I want you. I do. I don’t want you groveling for forgiveness and feeling like you’re a mistake away from me walking away. We're in this together.” He sits on the edge of the bed, bringing Tommy’s hand up against his chest just over his heart. “You and me.”

“You and me.” Tommy parrots, the first of his tears sliding free. And Buck leans in, kissing his knuckles and finally feeling like he’s going to be okay. 

-

When Buck wakes again, Tommy’s fingers are softly stroking over his curls. He blinks a few times, trying to remember what’s happened. His gaze is immediately drawn to the solid line of black on his wrist and a whimper escapes him before he has time to stop it. “I’m here, Evan.” Tommy murmurs, steady and sure above him. “Not dead. I’m right here.” He repeats. Buck’s grateful for the reassurance, but a pang of sorrow strikes deep when he realizes Tommy had no one to reassure him when he’d gone through the same loss. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, pushing his own feelings aside as he looks up at him. Tommy’s less pale now, but there are still shadows under his eyes. 

“Ready to go home.” Tommy says. It’s not an answer, but Buck hadn’t expected a real one. They’re going to have to learn how to get past this and navigate each other all over again. “Doctor should be by in a couple of hours to discharge me.”

“I’ll take you home.” Buck tells him. “Is-is that okay?”

“I’ll go anywhere with you.” Tommy grins and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently I’m stuck with you for the next week.” He says lightly. When Buck frowns, Tommy unlocks his phone and opens it to a group chat that hasn’t been used in weeks. Eddie’s shared the color coded calendar and everyone has chimed in about their respective shifts when it comes to Tommy. “According to this, the 118 is sharing custody of me while I heal.”

“Yeah, you don’t really get a say in it.” Buck chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Maddie had someone coming like clockwork one time for me. I ran away to Eddie’s to escape the revolving door of visitors.”

“Noted.” Tommy chuckles, the warmth filling Buck at once. “Bobby’s dropping off some groceries before his shift and Eddie came by with your Jeep and the keys.”

“I slept through all of that?” Buck frowns a little and Tommy’s eyes crinkle. 

“I think you needed it, baby.” Buck’s insides melt immediately. “Eddie said he’ll drop by tonight with a bag of things from your loft once his shift is over.”

“Probably not a bad idea.” Buck says. He wants to say more, but they’re interrupted. 

The doctor knocks lightly on the door and smiles, walking in. “Hello, Mr. Kinard. It’s nice to see some color back in your face. How are you feeling?”

“As well as I can be.” Tommy says. “I’m stiff and my side hurts.”

“I’d expect that to last for about another week. You’re going to be stiff a little longer, but I’ve prescribed some mild painkillers to get through the worst of the pain. Mr. Diaz collected it this morning from the pharmacy. I’d like to see you again next week and run some more tests to be certain you’re in the clear. Now how about that discharge paperwork? I presume Mr. Buckley can help with that?” She raises an eyebrow and Buck nods, quickly getting to his feet. 

“Yes.” He says, squeezing Tommy’s hand. “I’ll be right back.” He follows the doctor from the room to get everything squared away. He writes down her instructions, schedules Tommy’s next appointment for him, and goes back to the room to help Tommy get ready. It should feel weird, helping him get dressed and brushing his fingers over skin he hadn’t touched in weeks, but it’s only familiar and comforting. He catches a glimpse of black on Tommy’s thigh and forces himself to look away while sliding sweatpants up over his hips. There would be time for that later. 

It’s easy to get Tommy squared away in the Jeep and Buck thanks the nurse that helped wheel him out, going around to the driver’s side. As soon as he has it started, Tommy reaches for his hand and rubs his fingers over the black line. Buck wants to crawl out of his skin from it, but he doesn’t say a word as he drives them back to Tommy’s house. If it wasn’t for the steady pressure on his wrist, he would have thought Tommy had fallen asleep. He pulls into the driveway next to Tommy’s truck and hops out, going around to help him out of the Jeep. 

By the time they’ve made it to the front door, Tommy’s sweating like he’s run a marathon and he looks ashen. Buck guides him straight to the kitchen table to sit as he picks up the painkillers that Eddie had dropped off on the counter and shakes one from the bottle, drinking it over to the table. “What are you hungry for?” He asks, going back into the kitchen to see what Bobby had stored away for them. “Sandwich? Oh wait, I see some lasagna. I can reheat that for you-“

“Evan.” The soft call of his name sends a jolt down his spine. He goes still and takes a breath, turning to look over his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Tommy asks, his gaze tired but searching. 

“Y-yeah.” He lies, swiping his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Do you need something? Fuck, I should have moved you to the living room-“

“Evan.” Tommy cuts him off again, gentle but firm. “This is fine. I want to eat, shower, and then I want to sleep in my bed. Preferably with you in it.”

“Yeah.” His throat bobs painfully as he swallows and nods. “We can do that.”

“Good. Do whatever you want for lunch, I don’t have any preferences right now. Anything is better than hospital food.” Buck doesn’t laugh and Tommy’s smile falters. “Evan…baby, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He admits, tears suddenly burning in his eyes. He blinks them away rapidly and turns away, quickly getting out everything he needs to make a couple of sandwiches. He ignores the scrape of the kitchen chair over the floor, focusing on getting mustard on the butter knife. He spreads it across the bread and reaches for a piece of ham before he feels Tommy standing next to him. 

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Tommy murmurs. 

“You died.” Buck says, resolutely keeping himself focused on the task set before him. “I think I’m just still trying to come to terms with that. My head is-it’s a mess right now.”

“That’s okay.” Tommy shifts closer and Buck closes his eyes as lips press to his birthmark. “Can you give me a couple more days and we can really talk through everything?”

“Of course.” Buck says weakly. Tommy’s arm snakes around his waist and chapped lips brush over his birthmark again and then press into his curls. “I-I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Tommy says firmly. “I want a clear head when we both have the space to sit down and talk.”

“I get it.” And he really does. It’s not enough to silence the demons in the back of his mind permanently, but it overpowers them for the moment and he’s grateful for it. He lets Tommy’s touch ground him for now and continues making sandwiches. When they’re done, he tears himself away from the man he loves to pour drinks for both of them and Tommy shuffles back to the table. They have lunch in silence, but Tommy’s leg is stretched out until it brushes against Buck’s and stays pressed there. 

He lets Tommy shower on his own, hovering outside the bathroom until Tommy is done. And then he’s dressing him again, carefully getting him into basketball shorts and a tank top. When Tommy sags down into the mattress, he turns his head and furrows his brow at once. “Why does it smell like Eddie’s cologne in here?”

“I-I asked him to stay. When I had Bobby bring me here.” Buck admits as he situates everything on Tommy’s nightstand. “I didn’t want to sleep alone.” Something softens in Tommy’s gaze and he lifts up a hand, beckoning Buck closer. He’s helpless but to give this man exactly what he wants, slowly moving into his space until his head is resting against Tommy’s arm. 

“I’m right here.” Tommy tells him, tangling their fingers together. “Close your eyes, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Better be.” Buck whispers, hiding his face down against Tommy’s arm. 

He doesn’t sleep, but he stays in bed once he realizes Tommy is out like a light. Like this, he can’t stop his thoughts from spinning like a broken record on loop. He loves Tommy. He’s known that since Josh asked him in the break room of dispatch and he hadn’t been able to say the words. But he knew deep down what he was feeling. The problem is that it’s not the first time Buck’s been in love, but it’s the most terrifying. Love usually comes at a cost in Buck’s life - the condition of his own heart. It’s been tattered and stitched and remade time and time again, the scars now permanent fixations, but the thing is…he’d thought Tommy was different. He’d well and truly believed that his heart was safe this time. 

But his soulmate had walked away from him. It’s the one thing he can’t wrap his head around. From all the stories, he knows that this is supposed to be his person. The one who will love him despite his many flaws and want to spend the rest of their lives together. And Tommy…he hadn’t wanted that. And sure, he’d explained himself to Buck in the hospital, but that does little to calm him right now. How is he supposed to move forward when his soulmate doesn’t love him enough to fight for him?

He eventually crawls out of bed, careful to leave Tommy slumbering, and heads into the kitchen. There’s not much to do, but he still wipes down the counters and makes sure the appliances are spotless. He checks his phone, assuring the 118 that Tommy is resting and doing well, and moves into the living room. Finding things to clean is hard now that he’s already deep-cleaned so much, but it keeps him busy for now. When Tommy stirs a few hours later, Buck gets some food in him and helps him move to his recliner in the living room. He gets another load of laundry going and doesn’t stop until Tommy reaches for him when he brings over a blanket. 

“You don’t look like you’ve slept. Still having nightmares?” Tommy asks. 

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” He says, avoiding Tommy’s worried gaze. “Why don’t you put on a movie? I’m thinking about the garage-“

“Cleaning can wait, Evan.” Tommy’s thumb brushes along the black line on his wrist and bile climbs up Buck’s throat. “You could sit down and watch the movie with me.”

“I…”

“Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Buck says before his throat can lock up on him. He’s survived getting his heart broken once and he’s not sure he’s ready for it to happen again. Maybe now he understands Tommy a little bit better. 

“Okay.” Tommy strokes over his wrist one more time before lifting it up, pressing his lips against it. “Can I convince you to sit down?”

So he does. Buck sits through a couple of movies and gives Tommy his next dose of painkillers when it’s time. The voices in the back of his head don’t stop, but they stay dormant for a little while longer. And when Eddie comes knocking on the door not too long after his shift has ended, Buck’s filled with a sense of relief. He doesn’t have to wear this mask anymore and try to pretend that he isn’t hurting. He can go back to the loft and lick his wounds in peace and try to find his own way forward. 

“Buck?” Eddie asks, frowning as he sits down on the couch and Buck stays standing. 

“I-I can’t do this.” He resolutely doesn’t look at Tommy and blinks back tears when he feels the other’s gaze snap to him. “I-we’ll figure something else out.” And it’s a shitty thing to do to leave them both sitting in the living room, especially when Tommy calls his name and sounds more than a little hurt, but Buck can’t handle his heart breaking again tonight. So he sprints to the Jeep, grateful that Eddie had parked behind Tommy’s truck, and he’s out of the driveway by the time his phone starts to ring. 

-

The loft is too quiet when he walks through its doors. He tosses his keys onto the island and then his phone, wincing as it begins to buzz. It’s been non stop since he left Tommy’s house. And maybe he’s a goddamn coward, but he tells himself it will get a little easier as the times goes by. His house doesn’t need the deep cleaning and attention that Tommy’s did, but he still tidies up and tries to keep busy. When he finally stops to shower, the first wave of exhaustion hits him and he collapses on the side of his bed. Tears burn in his eyes as he wraps around one of his pillows, burying his face into something that no longer smells like Tommy, and he lets it all out. 

When sleep finally claims him, it doesn’t last more than a couple of hours. Shooting upright, he sobs and covers his mouth before he can scream from the images that linger from his nightmare. Tears have been steadily running down his cheeks for a while and he scrubs at them, blinking through the haze until he can focus again. When he sees the black mark on his skin, bile rises and he barely makes it to the bathroom to empty his stomach. He spends the next few minutes hunched over the toilet, retching until there’s nothing left in his system. 

After he’s done, he rinses his mouth a few times and spits into the sink before he dares to look at his reflection. He looks like shit. There are dark circles under his eyes, dried tear tracks on his cheeks, and he’s lost most of his color. He bends down to splash water on his face and that’s when he sees the black mark on his skin and a wave of sorrow punches him in the gut. Tommy. For a terrifying moment, Buck wonders if he hallucinated everything. Maybe Tommy had dropped dead in the field and stayed down despite Lily’s best attempts. Maybe there hadn’t been any hospital visits or any conversations, just ghosts in Buck’s head that whispered all the things he wanted to hear. 

He rubs at the mark, tears building in his eyes once again. No matter what he does, it won’t go away. He can’t strike it from his skin no matter how hard he tries. God, he tries. He rubs and scratches until his skin is a mess of bright red lines and pain is the only thing he knows. And he can’t stop, doesn’t want it to stop, and he keeps clawing at his wrist like he can somehow shed this godforsaken skin. That he can lose the knowledge that he’s lost his soulmate twice now and this might be the thing he can’t ever come back from. He scratches and scratches and the pain refuses to dull. 

A heavy knock on the door jolts him back to reality and he blinks at his reflection, looking down at the red stained sink. His first thought is that it might be Eddie, fed up with babysitting duty and abandoning him the way that he did, but Eddie’s got a key. If he’d wanted to follow Buck, he would have been here already. It could be Maddie or maybe even Bobby, though he doubts it at this hour. Besides, he’s pretty sure his sister is still working her shift for the next few hours. The knocking comes again, louder now, and he swallows hard. Whoever it is isn’t going away and he really doesn’t want his neighbors filing a noise complaint. 

The last person he expects to see when he opens the door is Tommy. He’s got a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, a small plastic bag hanging from his wrist, and he looks exhausted. “There you are-“ He starts. His gaze shifts to Buck’s wrist and he quickly tries to hide it, but it’s too late. “Evan…”

“What are you doing here?” Buck asks. 

“I realized our talk couldn’t wait after all.” Tommy says, lips thinning into a frown. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“How did you even get here? Y-you’re not supposed to drive.” 

“Eddie brought me. He’s downstairs, I can call him up if you’d prefer to see him. But you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I-“ And no, Buck really doesn’t want to face his best friend right now, so he steps to the side and lets Tommy inside. The man flashes a quick smile and pulls out his phone, sending a quick text while Buck retreats to his kitchen to put some distance between them. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” Tommy says, slowly making his way to the island. “Get your first aid kit and come sit down.”

“I’m fine-“

“It’s this or I call Eddie up here.” Tommy says flatly, daring him to argue. Buck frowns at him and ducks into one of the lower cabinets to retrieve the kit. When he goes to sit down, Tommy drags the stool closer with one of his feet before Buck sits. He takes the kit and opens it, pulling out everything he needs to clean and wrap Buck’s wrist. 

“Tommy-“

“I thought I asked you how you were doing,” Tommy says calmly, “and I realize that maybe that wasn’t what you needed. I’ve been replaying the day in my head and I talked it over with Eddie. I still feel like I’m missing something, so forgive me if there are neon signs. We can blame the pain meds.” Buck hisses at the first touch of antiseptic to his skin but Tommy doesn’t let him pull away. “What happened here?” He taps on a strip of undamaged skin and Buck flinches. “This wasn’t just a panic attack, Evan. This was deliberate.”

“What do you care?” It’s not what Buck means to ask, but the words are out before he can think twice. Tommy stills at once, looking up with wide blue eyes. 

“I-what?” It’s rare to see Tommy thrown off like this and once it might have satisfied Buck, but now it fills him with shame. 

“Why are you here?” Buck asks plainly. “You-you had Eddie to take care of you.”

“Eddie’s not the one I’m in love with.” Buck stiffens immediately, can feel his defenses drawing up, and sees the lightbulb above Tommy’s head as his eyes soften. “Know what I think?”

“What?” He croaks out. 

“I think maybe you’re afraid of getting your heart broken again. And that you thought if you ran away, it would hurt less. That if you chose to leave, you could tell yourself that you’d never let anyone else make that choice for you.” Tommy’s fingers are careful as they apply a small bandage to the only cut that hasn’t quite stopped bleeding. “How am I doing so far?”

“You wouldn’t…” Buck has to stop and collect his breath, pain flaring in his chest. “We wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t died.”

“No, we wouldn’t be.” Tommy frowns a little as though he can’t make the pieces of this conversation fit and Buck itches with the need to run again. 

“If we weren’t soulmates…we wouldn’t be together.”

“Evan-“

“No. It-it’s true. Would we even be together now if I hadn’t found out you were my soulmate?” Buck pins him down under his stare and Tommy’s mouth pinches. 

“I don’t know. Maybe not.” He concedes. And then his head tilts, a thought striking him, and Buck watches in real time as the pieces start to fall into place. “Evan…walking away from you was my worst mistake and the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“But you still did it.”

“Yes and I can never take that back. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.” It’s the first time he’s heard it like this and he has to blink back sudden tears. 

“My own soulmate walked away from me.” Buck says, hastily wiping at his eyes. “I-I could handle it when it was anyone else in the world out there. But then it was you. It was you and you-you quit. You walked away when I was too much-“

“You are not too much, Evan Buckley.” Tommy laces their fingers together and pins him down with his earnest gaze. “Evan, I can never apologize enough for walking away the way that I did. I will always regret hurting you and breaking your trust in me. But I need you to know this. I love you. I love you more than anything and that’s fucking terrifying. When you walked out that door tonight, I saw our future go up in smoke and I told Eddie this couldn’t be the end. I said that maybe you were trying to protect your heart before it could get invested in me again. That maybe you thought it was safer to run because you didn’t want to hurt again after what I put you through. I can’t hold any of that against you. But I’d like a chance to redeem myself and show you just how committed I want to be. Maybe knowing you were my soulmate would have changed things back then, but that doesn’t matter right now. I’m here to fight for us because we belong together. Because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow regretting the rest of my life. I want to know that I let myself be happy and fall in love with the most incredible guy and remind myself that I’m alive and there’s a reason for that. I’m alive so that I can love you, all of you.”

“What if you get scared again?” Buck’s mouth trembles around the words. “I can’t-I-I can’t.” He sucks in a fast breath and Tommy’s free hand cups his cheek. 

“We’ll go to therapy together. I will move in with you right now if that’s what you want me to do. But I am not walking away from you again. You don’t have to believe that right now, just give me a chance to prove you wrong. To prove me right.”

“That’s stupid. You have a house.” Buck blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I do.” Tommy’s smile makes his eyes crinkle and Buck sobs, the cracks in his defenses widening. “Hey. Hey.” Tommy soothes, shifting both hands to cradle Buck’s face and wipe his tears away. “Talk to me, baby.”

“I can’t lose you again. I-this was too hard.” Buck says thickly. “You’ll change your mind, no one stays.”

“Let me decide that. You are worth fighting for, Evan.” The conviction in his voice breaks away the last ounce of resistance in Buck and he leans forward, gripping at both of Tommy’s wrists in a desperate attempt to be closer to him. Tommy keeps stroking his cheeks, murmuring softly to try and calm Buck. He cries himself out, wracked with tremors by the time he’s done, and makes a noise of protest when Tommy lets go of him. “Give me one second, baby.” Tommy squeezes his hand and gets up, slowly shuffling around the island to the fridge. He returns with two bottles of water and rubs Buck’s back. “Drink this and then we’ll go to bed, okay?” His lips press against Buck’s temple. 

“I have stairs. We should be at your place.” Buck says, stomach twisting as he looks over at them. Tommy’s fingers curl under his jaw and force him to look up at the man. 

“And we can go there tomorrow. Right now, I just want to curl up with my boyfriend and crash for the rest of the night.”

“I’m your boyfriend again?” Buck can’t help but ask. Tommy’s mouth tilts up at the corners and he nods, shifting his palm to cradle Buck’s jaw. 

“As long as you’ll have me again. Me and my miles worth of baggage.” 

“I’ve got plenty of it, too.” Buck laughs wetly and Tommy’s smile broadens. 

“So we’ll carry it together.” Tommy’s gaze searched his for a moment and then he leans in, giving Buck the option to close the distance. It’s chaste for a kiss between them, but it’s the first one since their breakup and Buck feels like everything slots right back into place. It ends too soon, Tommy pulling back with an apologetic smile, and Buck slides out of his stool. 

“Come on. I need to put you to bed.” He says, offering a hand. He helps Tommy slowly up the stairs, patiently waiting when they need to take a break after every few. When Tommy finally sits on the bed, Buck checks his side to be sure none of his stitches have been pulled and then goes into the bathroom to clean everything up. Tommy’s under the sheets by the time he returns and he crawls slowly into bed, careful not to disturb him too much. He doesn’t cuddle close like he wants to, afraid of jostling him hard if he moves wrong, and settles for curling his fingers in Tommy’s shirt to know he’s there. 

After a few minutes, Tommy lets out a sigh and the bed shifts. “Evan?”

“What’s wrong?” Buck asks at once, lifting up onto an elbow. 

“Nothing. I’m not going to break in half if you touch me. Come here.” Tommy says, reaching up and tugging on his arm. Buck moves immediately, not wanting Tommy to waste any exertion on him, and shifts closer. Tommy guides him to rest against his uninjured side, head coming down on his shoulder, and Tommy kisses the crown of his head. “There. Better.”

“Wake me up if you need me to move.” Buck says. Tommy hums against the top of his head and doesn’t respond. 

When Buck stirs an hour later, a sob on the tip of his tongue, the bed is empty next to him. Panic slams into his chest as he sees the black mark on his wrist and the surrounding cuts on his skin. He sits upright, reaching for his wrist, but a shadow moves in his peripheral and he whimpers instead. “Evan. Hey, let go.” Tommy’s voice instructs, cool fingers curling around his own. He lets go of his wrist, blinking tears from his eyes, and looks up. 

“You-you weren’t here.” He says slowly, looking down at the blank spot in the bed. 

“Had to pee.” The mattress sinks and Tommy lays down beside him, coaxing him back against his side. “I think we need to call your therapist in the morning and get you an emergency session.” He kisses Buck’s birthmark and gently curls his hand around the black mark. “It’s my appendectomy scar.” He says after a moment. 

“Standard surgical scar.” Buck says, thinking back to the dozens of times he’s studied the mark on his wrist and tried to understand what it could be. 

“I almost died after that surgery. Got an infection and I was in rough shape. Luckily my mom realized I was sick and took me straight to the hospital, but it was a little touch and go.” Tommy’s fingers slowly rub over the mark and he sighs. “This right here? I know it hurts. Mine’s been black for a lot longer. But I’m alive, Evan. And I’m going to be right here to remind you of that every time you wake up and the nightmares scare you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“It’s going to take me a while to believe that. To know that you’re still alive.” Buck admits. 

“And I’ll be here. No matter what, you’ve got me.” Tommy promises. Buck nods and closes his eyes, curling his fingers back into Tommy’s shirt. 

The next time he wakes up, his breathing is uneven and cold sweat prickles along his skin. But Tommy’s fingers are warm and solid against his wrist. He shifts in his sleep, lips brushing over Buck’s hair, and it’s enough to settle him once again. As he starts to fall back asleep, Tommy’s hold tightens on him and he releases the breath he hadn’t realized he was still holding. Things aren’t perfect now, not by a long shot, but he thinks maybe they’ll be okay as long as they keep communicating. 

Notes:

As always, kudos and comments keep me going!