Chapter Text
There’s a feeling of doubt that doesn’t dissipate no matter how much reassurance he gets.
It’s hard to believe.
He had become resigned to the life that had become that room. Resigned to never being found, no one wanting to find him.
But then he got Chris and he knew that he would never let Chris lose hope of escape.
Even if he wouldn’t make it out with him, he knew that he had to get Chris out of there.
But he didn’t get Chris out of there. It was Chris who got him out.
When he wakes up to the sterile scent of hospital, machines beeping by his bedside, and his body heavy from drugs, all on his mind is Chris.
He calls out for him, cries for him, but no one brings reunites them back together. Instead, there’s a needle pushing into his arm, and the world fades away as he’s dragged back into the dark depths of sleep.
The second time he wakes up, he’s more aware. There’s still the dichotomous smell of clean and chemical, still the machine droning beside him, but he’s no longer heavy, instead just floaty.
When he blinks awake, he’s calmer than he was before, as if his body knows that he’s safe and so is Chris.
Chris is lying limp in the arms of a man Buck doesn’t recognize. But Chris must be as in tune as Buck is with him, because his eyes flutter open and he immediately bolts from the lap he was on and barrels into Buck’s arms.
Buck bites back the cry of pain and just relishes in the feeling of Chris, safe, alive, out, in his arms.
Chris turns his head up to Buck, signing, Dad, to him and Buck feels the immediate pooling of dread.
“You’re Chris’s dad,” he says to the man he’s heard so much about and never thought he’d meet.
“I am,” Eddie says. “And you’re…”
“Buck,” he says. There’s so much he wants to say. He wants to get down on his knees and beg for the man’s forgiveness for failing his son, for not saving him faster, for not being enough to keep him from getting hurt. He wants to plead for just the chance to keep Chris in his life. He wants to say that he did everything he could to protect Chris, that he would give his life to protect him, that he loves him more than he can express, but he knows it would never be enough. But he needs to know he didn’t hurt Chris. That he would never hurt Chris. “I… I swear. I didn’t—”
“He told me,” Eddie says. “And I believe my kid.”
And Buck understands. He understands because he would believe anything Chris said and he knows that Chris wouldn’t lie to him. If she said or did something, anything, to him, Buck was the first person to know because Chris believed in him, he had faith that Buck would do whatever he could to keep him safe.
“He’s told me a lot about you,” Buck says with a smile. The understatement of the century. Eddie is what Chris talks about most. He adores his father even when he acknowledges the man’s faults because he knows his father loves him. “I believe him too. And from what I can tell, there was no exaggeration.” Buck looks down, his grip loosening on Chris, but Chris clutches at him. His heart aches. “I understand if you don’t want me to see Chris anymore.”
Chris jolts at the words. “No!” He hugs him tighter as he looks pleadingly at Eddie, his grip so tight that Buck almost thinks it would bruise.
“Of course you can see him,” Eddie says. “I think you two will,” he pauses and Buck worries that he’s about to take the statement away. “I know you two will need each other. And I would never keep you apart.”
Chris relaxes at the words, melting against Buck, and Buck meets Eddie’s gaze, mouthing “thank you.”
Buck quickly becomes consumed at finally holding Chris out of that damn room he almost misses Eddie saying he’s getting dinner before stepping out.
“We got out,” Buck whispers, laughing with disbelief. “We did it, Chris. You got us out!”
“I did,” Chris says. His voice grows with pride. “I did! I got us out!”
“I’m so proud of you,” Buck says. His hand presses ‘I love you’ unthinkingly into Chris’s shoulder blades. Chris’s hand mirrors the motion, tapping it over and over again over Buck’s heart.
Buck pulls away, holding Chris’s face in his hands, brushing back his bangs so he can see his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Chris says. “I’m better than okay.”
“Yeah,” Buck says with a cheek aching smile. “Me too.”
Buck wastes no more time to pull Chris back into his embrace, savoring the feeling of him safe and alive and out, unafraid of her coming back in.
There’s a soft knock on the door and Buck and Chris flinch away from each other, head’s snapping to the noise.
Eddie stands at the door, two trays balanced in either hand.
“You two hungry?” Eddie asks.
And Buck knows, okay? He knows that Eddie isn’t like Pumpkin. That he doesn’t have to worry about unidentified crushed up pills snuck into his food or needing to beg for permission to eat but he still is hesitant when Eddie places the tray on the leg not occupied by Chris.
Chris must share the same sentiment because he shares a wary look with Buck. He does his best to silently convey that it’s alright, that they’ll both be alright and forces himself to take a piece of fruit off the tray and pop it in his mouth. Shoulders slumping slightly, Chris follows suit, resting his head on Buck’s chest as he chews.
When Buck manages to pry his eyes away from Chris, he can see the fire in his father’s eyes, clearly not happy at the sight of his son with a man he doesn’t know.
“What do we do now?” Chris asks, pulling away to look Buck in the eye.
“Whatever we want,” Buck says with a smile.
“I just want to go home,” Chris admits, turning to face his father who Buck can tell aches at the words.
Buck smiles softly. “Then you’ll go home.”
Chris looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “And you’ll come with me?”
Buck looks at Eddie who stands at the doorway with two trays. He gives a small nod, the action saying more than his words can.
“Yeah, Chris,” Buck says. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. I’m not gonna leave you.”
And Chris wraps his arms around Buck again, sighing happily against his chest as his body grows heavy.
Buck can’t imagine how much that must have been tearing Chris up, the worry that they would have to be separated, that he would lose Buck when he needs him most.
And it’s selfish to think that, that Chris needs Buck, and Buck tries to convince himself that he doesn’t and that he should just leave him and let him heal without the constant reminder of the hell they endured, but he also knows that there is no one else who would understand what Chris had gone through, no one who knows how to soothe him when it all becomes too much, who knows how to read what Chris needs without words.
And he knows that Chris needs him just as much as Buck needs him.
When Chris’s breaths even out, Buck’s hand mindlessly rubs shapes in his shoulder blades, a habit he’d picked up in their time together.
It’s not until he tastes salt on his lips does he realize that he’s crying. It all catches up to him and he finds the tears quickly morph into shuddering sobs, silent of course, he’s learned how to be silent when he cries, his shoulders barely even shaking, the hiccups making no noise but the quiet intake of air.
He doesn’t know how much time passes, just knows that there are hands that try to pull Chris away from him that he bats away, maybe a little too hard, and that retract when they know he won’t let the boy go.
He finally comes to and sees Eddie staring at him with a pinched brow and uncomfortable frown.
“Sorry,” Buck whispers. Though his mind and body scream from him not to, he offers Chris to his father and Eddie immediately takes the offer, picking him up with a caution and familiarity that only a father could have and holds him in his lap as he takes a seat beside Buck.
“Don’t be,” Eddie says. “You have no reason to be sorry.”
Yes he does. He has an endless list of why he should be sorry. But he is in Eddie’s good graces and he can’t risk losing that.
There’s another knock at the door and Buck is met with someone he didn’t think he’d ever have to face again.
The last he had seen Athena Grant was not one of his brightest moments and he knew he didn’t live a good impression on the woman. But whatever bad impression that he had left has been put to the side. She doesn’t look at him with any detest that she had before, just a sad, pitiful look that Buck thinks is worse.
“Hey, Buck,” Athena says. “Do you—”
“Officer Grant,” Buck interrupts. “Yeah. Hi.”
“I’ve got a couple questions for you if you’re feeling up to it.”
Buck casts a longing look at Chris and knows that the more he says, the less Chris will have to.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “Eddie—”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I’ll take good care of him. Don’t worry.”
Buck will always worry. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t worry.
Eddie carries Chris out, the boy still conked out in his arms and Buck is just relieved that he’s getting some rest.
“You let me know if you need to stop at any time, alright? Doesn’t matter when. Doesn’t matter why. If you need to stop, we stop. And if you feel up for more questions, we’ll continue, but if you’ve had enough for now, then we stop all together.”
Buck just nods, not knowing how to respond.
“Do you consent to being recorded?”
“Yes,” Buck says.
Athena puts up the recorder between them.
“Please describe the capture in detail,” Athena says.
“Uhm,” Buck tries to swallows against his suddenly dry throat. “I was grabbing a drink after my shift. My, uh, my last shift. It wasn’t a good day. I had just been fired because I was— sorry. Irrelevant.”
“It’s okay,” she says softly.
It’s not. “I was grabbing a drink and the last thing on my mind was hooking up with someone. Hooking up with someone is what got me fired. But there was something in me that craved it. To forget, to just have something that didn’t hurt. I was too many drinks in when she came up to me.”
“Who?”
“Pumpkin,” Buck says automatically. “Uhm. I don’t know her name. That’s what we… what I called her.”
“We know her name,” Athena says. “Do you want to know?”
“No,” Buck says. “Not… no.”
“Okay,” Athena says. “So, Pumpkin approached you?”
“Yeah,” Buck says. “She was just… she was so normal. She knew exactly what to say and I fell for it hook, line, sinker. She kissed me at some point. And then it got blurry after that. And then I woke up in an apartment I had never seen before, tied to a chair, sitting across from her with a plate of spaghetti on a table mat.” He huffs. “The spaghetti isn’t important but I remember thinking ‘how did she know I love spaghetti?’”
“How did she?”
Buck gnaws at his lip for a moment. “She had been watching me. For how long, I don’t know. But she knew so much about me. Too much. And she was convinced that I was in love with her the way she was with me. So I just… I played along. I think that’s what kept me alive was playing in with her delusion.” His breaths quicken. “I didn’t actually feel that way about her. We weren’t— I didn’t really—”
“I know,” Athena says. “I believe you.”
The words are a relief he didn’t know he needed.
“Can you describe this apartment?”
He goes through a clinical description of the room that he was trapped in these last months, seared into his brain, every detail crystal clear in his mind like he’s still there.
“Please describe the escape in detail. What led to the release?”
Buck’s heart stutters.
“It wasn’t the first time I tried to escape. The first time was before Chris got there. I tried to yell for help, tried to batter through the door, thinking that my firefighting training could get me out, but all it did was make an ugly dent. After that she left me chained and gagged in the closet when she left.”
He can see the barely suppressed flinch that Athena lets out, clearly disturbed by the details he shares.
“I broke out of the cuffs one day, picked the lock with a bobby pin that fell out of her hair, but when I left, I was electrocuted when I crossed over the door. I don’t know what it was, how it worked, but I knew that I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”
“So how did you?”
“After Chris got there, I knew we had to get out. I just didn’t know how. I was chained up at all times now, just enough space to maneuver through the room, not long enough to get out. She added a coded padlock to the door and I got the code by looking through a mirror while our backs were turned. It took us days to loosen the chains enough to slip them out and set me free. I practiced lockpicking on a bike lock she forgot about that was under the couch. We planned for everything. Everything except being caught.”
Athena’s breath hitches.
“She found us and she wasn’t happy. She, uhm. She slammed my head into the ground until I passed out. I… all I know is that Chris must’ve convinced her to take me to a hospital and he crashed the car while we were in it, knocking her out long enough to get me out and get help. And, well, now I’m here.”
“Can you describe to me the day that she abducted Christopher Diaz?”
Buck gulps. “She came in, carrying him, and she just… she dropped him on the floor. Said he was a present for me. Because we… we weren’t making kids the traditional way.”
He can feel Athena’s stare but he can’t bring himself to look at her.
“I knew that I couldn’t let her hurt Chris the way she hurt me so I, I kept playing into her narrative. When she was around, he wasn’t Chris, he was our little Peanut. Just a little baby who only deserved to be spoiled, not punished, not hurt, not anything. And she loved it. She only let her temper out on him a couple times but it was never how she let it out on me and that… it was all I could do even though I couldn’t get us out.”
“You did everything you could,” Athena says.
No I didn’t. I could’ve done so much more but I didn’t.
Athena asks more questions, mostly about what happened in his time with her. What she did to him and Chris. Mostly about what she did to him. He goes through the months, giving as much as he can handle sharing until he feel his throat clam up, unable to share any more.
“Thank you, Buck. This is going to help us a lot. And we’re gonna do everything we can to make sure she gets the punishment she deserves.”
Buck flinches at the word “punishment” and he knows it doesn’t go unnoticed by Athena.
“You just focus on resting and healing, alright? Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try my best,” Buck says, the words too dry to be genuine.
Exhausted from what must’ve been hours of questioning, Buck feels himself drift away.
One moment he was blinking tiredly asleep and in the next he’s being shaken awake by familiar hands.
A smile immediately grows on his lips, eyes snapping open to face Chris.
“We’re going home,” Chris says.
“Oh,” Buck says, sadness tinging the words.
Chris grabs his hand, tugging at it. “Are you ready?”
Buck’s lips part. “I—”
“The doctors trust that I’ll keep you under close eye,” Eddie says. “I was an army medic and I’m a licensed paramedic. They think it’ll be better for you to be somewhere…”
“That’s not a hospital?”
Eddie’s lips tilt up. “Yeah.”
Buck doesn’t know what to expect of the home he’s heard so much about, of the life outside of that room, of a return to a world he had resigned to never getting back to that he didn’t anticipate, but he knows that it won’t be easy.
But it’ll be worth it. Because Chris is safe, alive, out and so is he.