Drowning on Dry Land

Desperate and Alone

Eddie counted every slow agonizing minute until Maddie arrived. He needed to be out there, looking for Buck, but he also needed to be patient. He wouldn't leave his sleeping son alone again— he couldn't.

Eventually, kneeling on the floor became too much, and he hefted Chris into his arms, sitting with him on the cot. His quiet breathing ghosting against Eddie's neck was a constant reminder that his child was alive.

Hearing Maddie calling his name loudly through the tent was such a relief. He stood quickly when she reached them, falling into her space dropping his head to her shoulder, still clutching Chris in his arms. "Maddie— I'm so sorry. I— I swear I will find him—"

He wanted to cry when she wrapped her arms around them. "Shhh," she murmured softly, careful not to wake Chris. "I trust you, Eddie. There is no one in this world I trust more with my brother. Now, go. Bring him back to us."

She delicately slipped her hands around Chris, extracting him from Eddie's arms, before sinking into the cot with him to wait. Eddie dropped a kiss to Christopher's forehead, and after a moment of hesitation did the same to Maddie. She may not be his sister, but she was family, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't love her brother.

Without a backwards glance he took off toward the records tent, nearly barrelling down the woman with the clipboard that had "helped" him earlier.

"Firefighter Diaz, I remember you," she grimaced apologetically. "I'm sorry, at last check in your son still wasn't on my list."

"Thank you, Ma'am. I actually found my son. He's in the next tent over with my sister-in-law sleeping," Eddie said softly, shaking his head. "But he was separated from my— my partner, who left Med One to go back out to search for him alone. Can you check for him, please? Evan Buckley. He goes by Buck, but he might be using Diaz. He— he's six foot-two, with blond hair an— and blue eyes. There's a birthmark over his left eye." Eddie stammered out Buck's description in a rush, desperate for good news.

She studied her clipboard, and it took everything in him not to rip it from her hands to check for himself. "I'm sorry sir, I don't have anyone with that name other than his check in at Med One." She glanced at the black tent that he knew was over his shoulder. "And I don't have any John Doe's at the moment who fit his description."

He nodded, doing his best to give her a small smile, before walking away. He knew that if Buck was out there searching then he probably wouldn't have stopped to check in at a tent, other than to look for Chris, so just because his name wasn't on that list, didn't mean he wasn't fine. Buck was fine. He had to be. He was so strong— a storm wouldn't get him, not after everything.

Eddie wandered slowly to the black tent. He hadn't had to look in when he was searching for Chris, and he truly didn't want to now, but he needed to know. He needed to be sure that Buck wasn't there... waiting to be identified.

Just as he crouched down to unzip the first body bag, an ambulance screeched to a stop at the hospital entrance. He watched as they unloaded a stretcher, pushing a man toward the front doors. It shouldn't have caught his attention, not really, but something made him look harder, and that's when he noticed who it was. The blond hair could have been anyone, but the bands of his arm tattoo were stark against his grimy, blood soaked skin.

"BUCK!"

He staggered to his feet, sprinting across the lot. As he got closer, he could tell that Buck looked so much worse than he ever feared.

"Buck. Evan... Baby," he murmured, grasping Buck's clammy hand as they walked through the hospital doors. Buck couldn't hear him, though. He was pale and sweaty, mumbling almost incomprehensibly about Christopher, while staring at the sky with unseeing eyes.