Work Text:
Lyle Kasey wasn’t born with narcolepsy.
He’d lived a perfectly boring life for the first twenty-two years of his existence until the first time he lost control of his body and unwillingly fell asleep while on the train.
Luckily, he woke up just in time to get off at his stop, and he didn’t think much of it until it happened again.
And again.
And again.
It wasn’t so bad, once he got the narcolepsy diagnosis. Was it inconvenient? Sure. But he had people around him who supported him, and he put safety measures in place to ensure nothing bad happened if he were to pass out in an unfortunate location.
So yeah, it wasn’t so bad.
Until the cataplexy made its first appearance a few months later.
The first time Lyle fell into a paralytic state even he thought he was dead for a moment.
It took him a good minute or so to realise he just couldn’t move.
Or speak.
Or do anything else at all to indicate he was still in his body.
So needless to say, when his sister Lindsay found his non-responsive body and he had no way to communicate with her to tell her he was still alive, it wasn’t the most fun he’d ever had.
Shouting for Lindsay to stop as she called his parents and then 9-1-1 was awful, especially considering he’d had no idea what was happening to him at the time.
Lyle would never forget the sound of his mother sobbing into his father’s chest as the paramedics declared him dead.
He’d also never forget the screams they all let out when he shot upright on the gurney as they attempted to load him into the ambulance.
The cataplexy happened semi-frequently after that, and Lyle got lucky in that most of the time it would happen in the privacy of his own home where nobody would be able to find his non-responsive body.
Unfortunately for Lyle, that wasn’t always to be the case.
*
The First Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
Contrary to the beliefs of the paramedics who advised him to get a medical alert bracelet that one time he ended up in the morgue, Lyle isn’t an idiot.
He actually does end up taking their advice.
There’s now a nice, shiny, sterling silver medical alert bracelet on his wrist to indicate his condition to anybody who may come across his body while he’s unconscious.
It’s supposed to be a warning that lets them know he has narcolepsy. He even thinks ahead and adds Cataplexy in brackets underneath the bold, front and centre NARCOLEPSY warning.
The only problem is, while most people have heard of narcolepsy at some point in their lives, they’ve rarely heard of cataplexy, let alone know how it presents.
And that’s how he ends up here.
Today’s not the first time Lyle’s encountered the LAFD from Station 118.
It’s not even the second, or third or fourth time.
But it is his first time encountering these particular members of the department.
Firefighters Buckley and Diaz arrive on the scene soon after his neighbour calls emergency services, the blond man displaying a lot more enthusiasm than Lyle is expecting for someone being called out to assist with what they would have been led to believe is a dead body and a distraught woman.
His neighbour Theresa won’t shut the fuck up actually, screaming and crying about how devastating it is for her to have discovered his “dead” body in the front garden.
Yeah, right.
Theresa’s in for the shock of her life when Lyle finally gets up and tells her he saw her pause her theatrics long enough to steal his Amazon package before calling 9-1-1.
He can’t wait for it, actually. He’s already planning his speech for when he finally gains control of his body again. It’s gonna be—
“Eddie, I was right!” Firefighter Buckley’s excited face appears in Lyle’s field of vision, grinning down at Lyle as he checks the medical alert bracelet. “It’s Hen and Chim’s not-dead-guy!”
Diaz—not Eddie, Lyle refuses to use their first names, they’re not his friends—appears next, a confused look on his face. “What do you mean, not dead?”
Diaz kneels down to check Lyle’s pulse, finding nothing of course. Diaz gives Buckley an unimpressed look.
“He’s alive!” Buckley insists. “I’m serious! Look at the bracelet,”—Buckley picks up Lyle’s arm and shoves it in Diaz’s face—“I’m not making it up. He has narcolepsy with cataplexy.”
Diaz glances at the bracelet, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards for a split second as he reads the words on the bracelet. Diaz stands up and starts to back away. “You realise how insane you sound, right?”
“You gotta believe me!” Buckley insists, calling out after his partner. “He’s gonna wake up, you’ll see.”
“Sure Buck,” Diaz calls out over his shoulder, and Lyle can only assume he’s walking off to attend to the thief, Theresa. “Let me know when the zombie rises from the dead.”
And that’s when Lyle realises Diaz believes Buckley, he’s just taking advantage of the situation to mess with partner.
Lyle can respect that.
Because honestly, it’s kind of funny how worked up Buckley’s getting.
“Sorry about that, man,” Buckley says to Lyle once Diaz has disappeared. “I researched cataplexy when Hen and Chim told me about you last year, so I’m pretty you can hear me. I don’t want you to worry. I won’t let those guys at the morgue get their hands or their saws on you again.”
Lyle finds that a little comforting actually, and decides maybe Buckley’s not so bad.
“Eddie’s kinda new still, he only started with us a few months ago. He’s a really good guy, I promise… even though he seems pretty willing to hand you over to the coroner to be cut up into pieces.” Lyle grimaces internally at Buckley’s way with words. “Eddie and I didn’t really start off on the right foot either, you know? We were competing for this hot fireman calendar and things got a little heated. Ha! Get it? Things got heated over a fireman calendar.”
Buckley laughs to himself and then looks to Lyle for a reaction, and Lyle wishes more than anything he could roll his eyes.
“Oh, yeah. You can’t really—nevermind. I still can’t believe Eddie didn’t win the spot in the calendar,” Buckley says to himself. Well, Lyle can only assume he’s musing to himself, because Lyle really doesn’t give a single fuck.
He tunes back into the rambling again just in time to hear Buckley start talking about Diaz’s legs, apparently.
“He’s really strong, you know? I mean, look at his arms. And I’m pretty sure he could crush my head with his thighs if he tried. I don’t know if mine could do that.”
When Buckley stands up straight and starts tensing his thighs, Lyle’s tempted to offer his own head as a test subject if it’ll put him out of his misery.
Lyle takes back his initial assessment of Buckley being not so bad.
The man is annoying as all hell.
Lyle genuinely wonders if he’ll ever shut the fuck up.
“We sorted things out though, me and Eddie I mean, so I’m sure once Eddie sees you moving around again he’ll—”
“Are you seriously talking to a dead body, Buck?” Diaz’s voice comes from somewhere beyond Lyle’s field of vision.
Oh, Lyle likes Diaz.
Clearly not in the same way Buckley apparently likes Diaz and his strong arms and thighs.
But Diaz is actually kind of entertaining.
Buckley stands up and groans loud enough for multiple people to look in his direction—a complete overreaction in Lyle’s opinion—and protests, “He’s not dead! I can’t believe you don’t believe me.”
“Well, even if he is alive, we won’t be here to see it. We gotta get over to Highland Park. Get a move on.”
And with that Buckley throws his hands up in the air, collecting his belongings and trailing off after his partner.
Not even a goodbye.
Definitely rude.
*
The Second Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
Lyle doesn’t have any incidents in public for another good couple of years.
So it surprises him a little when he finds himself paralysed in the middle of the city-wide blackouts.
He’s even more surprised when a neighbour comes to check on the loud crashing noise that would have occurred when he fell down in his living room, and calls 9-1-1.
Buckley and Diaz show up looking exhausted and slightly frustrated with one another.
“—trust me. We’ll just make sure he’s safe and then we can go,” Buckley insists as they make their way in through the front door.
Diaz sounds frustrated, “I can’t believe you convinced Cap to send us here alone, even though you know it’s your little unconscious friend and he’s probably completely fine.”
Wow Diaz, way to give no fucks.
Once again, Lyle finds he can respect that.
“I didn’t do it just to—”
“Oh, sure you didn’t. You just used the entire trip to hassle me about the incident at the hospital because you can’t—”
“If you’d just tell me why you’re seeing a cardiologist maybe I’d let it go!” Buckley shouts, as he and Diaz set their gear down on the armchair nearby.
“I’m not seeing a cardiologist. I saw a cardiologist one time, and now I don’t need to see the cardiologist again. I’m fine.”
“Oh yeah, you’re so fine you think you’re having a heart attack and have to go to the hospital. Sure, Eddie. That’s not nothing and you’re not fine.”
Lyle’s gotta side with Buckley on this one, doesn’t sound like nothing.
“Whatever, Buck,” Diaz retorts, checking Lyle for a pulse. “No pulse, not surprising. Potentially not dead, since I do remember him from last time.”
“What do you mean, potentially not dead?” Buckley says, sounding slightly offended. “You still don’t believe me that he’s alive?”
“He was alive last time,” Diaz admits. “No guarantee he’s alive this time.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“So are you!” Diaz stands up and heads over to the hallway, calling out as he goes, “I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick. Hope that’s okay, dead guy!”
As if Lyle can do anything to stop him.
Lyle can see Buckley pacing, and he focuses on that instead.
“Can’t believe he’s being so damn secretive. He’s been acting even weirder since his girlfriend stopped by the station,” Buckley says, sitting down on the couch.
And oh great, Lyle’s being included in the drama again! Just what he wanted!
“Do you think it has to do with Ana?” Buckley asks, looking at Lyle now for the answer to a question he knows Lyle can’t respond to.
And even if he could talk right now, how the fuck is he supposed to know?
Who’s Ana?
How is Ana causing heart attacks?
So much mystery, and yet Lyle still doesn’t give a single fuck.
“She’s nice and all, I suppose. But I don’t know, I just don’t think she’s right for him?”
Lyle.
Doesn’t.
Care.
“Do you think I should say something to him?” Buckley asks, and that’s when Diaz appears of course.
“Say something to who?”
“Oh, uh, nevermind.” Buckley says, standing and running a hand through his hair. “You ready to go?”
Diaz looks down at Lyle, and frowns.
“Do we just leave him here?”
“I’m not sure,” Buckley says, joining Diaz in his frowning.
“Maybe we just organise a welfare check for the morning?” Diaz suggests. “That okay with you, sir?”
Diaz chuckles to himself as Buckley gapes at him.
“I am so sorry, man,” Buckley says to Lyle, and Lyle wishes he could snort. “But, uh, that’s probably all we can do, we can’t sit here all night.”
Lyle would actually just be grateful if they’d get the fuck out of his house.
Welfare check or not, if they go away he’ll at least have some peace and quiet.
“Come on, Buck,” Diaz says, collecting his gear again. “We’ll lock the door behind us on the way out too, so nobody else can get in.”
Gee, thanks guys.
*
The Third Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
It’s another few years before he sees Buckley and Diaz again, and the circumstances of the incident are inconsequential.
He’s paralysed.
Again.
Buckley’s here.
Again.
Which means Diaz won’t be far behind, no doubt.
And seriously, it seems crazy to Lyle that over the years Station 118 are the only ones who ever get called to the scene when this shit happens.
Only he’s confused when Buckley isn’t in fact accompanied by Diaz, it’s some guy he’s never seen before.
Lyle could have sworn Buckley and Diaz were attached at the hip.
“Ravi,” Buckley says, gesturing at Lyle. “I’d like to introduce you to Narcolepsy Guy. Narcolepsy Guy, this is Ravi.”
Lyle would love it if the universe would let him have control of just his eyes, solely so he can roll them in Buckley’s presence.
“Ravi’s here because Eddie abandoned me,” Buckley says, sounds utterly miserable. “Look at his stupid new uniform, he sent me a picture this morning.”
Buckley shows Ravi his phone, and then for some reason tilts it over for Lyle to see too.
Lyle wants to know why Buckley thinks he’d want to look at pictures of Diaz.
God, he’s the worst.
Buckley, not Diaz.
Diaz seems relatively normal so far, and Lyle can’t help but notice the new uniform is certainly flattering.
He’d be willing to bet Buckley thinks so too.
It crosses his mind then, that if Diaz has abandoned Buckley, maybe Lyle won’t have to hear Buckley talk about him the entire time.
“Buck, he’s gone to work at dispatch, he hasn’t abandoned you—”
“That’s enough out of you, probie,” Buckley complains. “And he did abandon me. I’m here without him, aren't I? Why don’t you go find Hen while I fill our friend here in on the betrayal I’ve experienced.”
Please, no.
Seriously, Lyle does not want to listen to Buckley cry about Diaz right now.
Lyle tries desperately to force himself into waking up and running away, but it’s no use, he’s still completely paralysed.
“So. It’s a bit of a long story, but it’s not like you’ve got anywhere else to be, huh?”
Does this count as a hostage situation?
Lyle considers taking up praying if it’ll get him out of here.
“I suppose it all starts back when—”
“Buck, Cap needs to talk to you. He said I could stay with the patient for now and check him over.”
Buckley looks like he’s going to argue, and Lyle crosses his metaphorical fingers that he won’t.
Lyle doesn’t know how many times he has to say it, but he just doesn’t care about Buckley and Diaz’s drama.
Diaz has gone to work somewhere else.
Buckley is feeling sad and betrayed about it.
Boo hoo.
That’s more than Lyle wanted to know in the first place.
Lyle hears Buckley sigh and then mutter god knows what to himself as he wordlessly leaves the room.
The new guy makes his way over and checks Lyle over briefly before sitting with him silently.
And huh, isn’t that nice?
He likes this one.
Ravi, was it?
*
The Fourth Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
It really is Buckley and Diaz this time, so Lyle thinks it’s safe to assume Diaz ceased the abandoning at some point between now and then.
Buckley and Diaz go about their usual routine in complete and utter silence, which is odd in and of itself.
But it’s even more odd when this time it’s Buckley who ends up wandering off, leaving Diaz behind to keep Lyle company.
Diaz huffs.
“I bet he’s telling her all about Tommy,” Diaz mumbles. “Probably another helicopter date.”
Lyle can see Diaz’s face as he leans over, and it seems just the mention of this Tommy guy has him looking like he’s just sucked a lemon.
So Buckley is dating men now, but not Diaz?
Something doesn’t compute.
Buckley’s super into Diaz, right?
There’s no way Lyle’s been getting that wrong this whole time.
“Helicopters aren’t even that cool.”
If Lyle could raise an eyebrow right now, he would.
“Sorry, Eddie, can’t make it to movie night, forgot I’ve got plans with Tommy,” Eddie says in a ridiculous mocking tone, and Lyle can only assume he’s repeating something Buckley has said to him recently. “Yeah well, me and Chris miss you. But whatever, I guess.”
Buckley’s kind of an idiot—Lyle already knew that—but maybe Diaz isn’t quite as aware and that’s why he sounds so surprised by all of this.
Maybe if they’d spent less time bitching about each other’s girlfriends over the years, and instead told each other how they really felt, they’d have figured their shit out by now.
Case in point: the first time Lyle met Buckley and Diaz, he remembers Buckley going on about a hot fireman calendar and Diaz’s arms and thighs.
His arms and thighs!
“Maybe I should get Chris to call Buck next time he’s on a date and trick him into coming over?”
Lyle’s not gonna lie, he has no idea who Chris is.
But he can pretty confidently state that Diaz’s plan would be insane no matter what.
But sure Diaz, give it a go.
“That’s probably a little insane, right?”
Oh look, Diaz is self-aware after all.
“I just miss him. I want him to spend time with us again.”
Diaz goes quiet after that.
And as much as Lyle enjoys the silence, he kind of hopes Buckley and Diaz do get their shit together soon.
If only so he won’t have to listen to them complain about each other all the time.
Lyle hates that he cares even the slightest amount.
Damn it.
*
The Fifth Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
Lyle hates his life.
The incident occurs in his regular grocery store this time, and instead of leaving him where he is, they’ve dragged him into the back room so other customers won’t be alarmed by the ‘dead body’ they found in the middle of the produce section.
Apparently nobody told the manager moving a ‘dead body’ is considered tampering with a potential crime scene, but he can hear raised voices explaining as such outside the door and it makes him laugh to himself on the inside.
When the door opens though, Lyle screams internally.
Because of fucking course it’s them.
“Hey, Cap, it’s Narcolepsy Guy again!” Buckley calls out, making his way over to Lyle. Buckley directs his next statement to Diaz, “Can you explain to the manager that they’re gonna have to wait for him to wake up?”
“Sure,” Diaz mutters, quickly leaving the room.
Oh goody, they’re clearly fighting.
“Eddie’s mad at me,” Buckley mumbles, once he leans down to check on Lyle. “He told me he’s gonna do something stupid and I’m trying to be supportive but now he’s mad? I thought I was doing the right thing, letting him make his own decisions. Even if they are stupid.”
What the hell is Buckley even going on about?
As much as Lyle hates the drama, it would be nice if Buckley—and/or Diaz, Lyle’s not fussed—could paint a picture in full once in a while.
“Like, the only thing I can compare it to is when I accidentally cheated on my ex-girlfriend while I was drunk,” Buckley says, frowning. “And then I asked her to move in with me—my ex-girlfriend, not the woman I kissed—and that was a nightmare.”
Jesus Christ.
“It probably wasn’t the best thing I could have done.”
No shit, Buckley.
“But Eddie gave me so much shit for it!” Buckley insists. “And now he’s being a hypocrite, having an emotional affair with some woman who looks exactly like his dead wife and talking about proposing to his girlfriend, the ex-nun that he can’t get it up for? It makes zero sense!”
If Lyle could blink right now, it would be a very slow blink.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Ex-nun girlfriend?
Dead wife doppelganger?
Not to mention, Lyle really doesn’t care about whether Diaz can maintain an erection.
He can vaguely hear Buckley going on about how he can’t tell Diaz what to do, but seriously?
Surely he can just tell Diaz he’s being an idiot and get him to stop acting like a crazy person?
“It’s just so hard, you know? I’m in love with him, and he’s gonna end up married to Marisol and I’m probably gonna be his second-best man—Christopher will be his actual best man of course—and I’ll have to watch him be married to someone else for the rest of our lives.”
No, Lyle does not in fact know why the name Christopher is relevant to Buckley being Diaz’s best man.
He also doesn’t care if Buckley has to watch Diaz be married to another woman for the rest of their lives.
He swears he fucking doesn’t.
But Lyle can’t help but notice that’s the first time Buckley’s admitted he’s in love with Diaz—at least, the first time Buckley’s said it in his presence—and isn’t that growth.
“I can’t tell him that though, right? It’d be so weird. I know he was fine with me dating Tommy for a while—”
Who the fuck is Tommy?
Wait, isn’t that the guy Diaz mentioned a few months ago?
“—but it’s probably a bit different if your formerly straight best friend tells you suddenly that he wants to snuggle you on pizza night, and kiss you on the couch, and bend you over the—”
“Hey, Buck,” Diaz’s voice comes from somewhere down the hall, thank fucking god. “Hen needs you in the ambulance, I’ll sit with him.”
Diaz rounds the corner and sits himself down on the ground next to Lyle.
And seriously, thank god for Diaz, just this once.
Lyle’s not entirely sure where Buckley’s sentence was going, but he can make an educated guess.
Buckley mutters a quick goodbye and then hurries off out of sight, and Lyle thinks he might finally be able to enjoy the quiet, until Diaz opens his mouth.
“He’s been acting so weird.”
And okay, that’s fine.
Maybe that’s all Diaz has to say on the matter.
“I know Buck likes to talk to you, man. I’ve never really understood why. It’s not like you ever say anything back.”
Lyle doesn’t fucking understand either, and he’s actually fine leaving it a mystery.
Diaz apparently feels different.
“I suppose you’re a good listener,” Diaz says contemplatively, looking down at Lyle. “I mean, we don’t even know for sure if you can hear us.”
Lyle wishes he could externally sigh.
He can’t do anything but listen to them go on and on about their stupid fucking lives.
“I wonder what Buck talks to you about. Does he tell you all his random facts?”
Diaz looks down and seems to wait for an answer before chuckling to himself.
“Right, you can’t talk back.”
No shit, Sherlock.
“You’re really lucky, Buck’s such a great guy, and he knows so much stuff. I could listen to him talk all day.”
Great, maybe Diaz can develop narcolepsy with a side serving of cataplexy and Buckley can spend all his time talking to him instead.
Diaz is quiet for a moment.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Lyle doesn’t particularly want to be beholden to any of Diaz’s secrets, actually. But it’s clear neither Diaz nor Buckley actually give a shit about whether Lyle wants to hear their drama.
“I’m kind of in love with Buck.”
And, that’s… not what Lyle was expecting to hear.
For once, he’s mildly interested.
“I know he doesn’t feel the same way about me—”
Lyle begs to differ.
“—and that sucks, but it is what it is.”
Oh really, is it?
“I’ve done some stupid stuff lately. I won’t get into it.”
Oh don’t worry Diaz, Buckley’s already spilled the beans.
“But if I can’t have Buck, I don’t know.”
Literally nothing Diaz says is going to make any sense, Lyle just knows it.
“I have this girlfriend, so I told Buck I’m gonna propose. I don’t even know why.”
Yeah, he called it.
Because that sounds like something a sane and rational human being would do.
“And he didn’t tell me not to. If I had a chance with him, he’d have told me not to, right?”
Diaz is a certifiable idiot, apparently.
“I don’t really know if proposing is a good idea?”
It’s really fucking not, Diaz.
“But I don’t wanna wait around hoping one day Buck will see me differently. I can’t, right? Wait around forever? That would just be—”
Buckley comes rushing into the room.
“Dude, we’re getting called to a two-alarm on the other side of town. We gotta go,”
Saved by the goddamn bell.
Diaz immediately shakes himself off and starts collecting their gear.
“Sorry man, we gotta go. Hope you wake up soon!”
And what?
That’s it?
Buckley’s not gonna say a word and Diaz is gonna propose to some random woman?
That’s just fucking stupid.
He can’t let this happen, he can’t just—
And fuck those fuckers.
They made him fucking care.
He’s gonna have to do something, isn’t he?
Ugh.
Lyle fucking hates Buckley and Diaz.
He really does.
*
+1 Extra Time Lyle Meets Buckley and Diaz
One whole day later, Lyle takes things into his own damn hands.
“Buckley! Diaz!” Lyle calls out as he enters Station 118. “I’m looking for Buckley and Diaz. Where the hell are you?”
It doesn’t take long at all for the men in question to make an appearance, leaning over the balcony and looking out to see who’s making a racket in the middle of their station.
“Hey, it’s you!” Buckley calls out, elbowing Diaz beside him. “It’s Narcolepsy Guy!”
“And he’s awake for once,” Diaz says just loud enough for Lyle to overhear, sounding slightly confused. Lyle can’t help but roll his eyes, because duh, clearly he’s not unconscious this time. A little louder, Diaz adds, “How can we help you, man? You’re not here to thank us or anything are you? Because—”
“Oh, fuck off. No, I’m not here to fucking thank you fuckers,” Lyle says, unable to hold back his frustration any longer. “I need a word in private, Diaz.”
He’s hoping Diaz will just cooperate and not ask—
“Why?” Buckley asks, because of course he does. “What do you need to talk to Eddie about that you can’t say in front of all of us?”
Buckley looks a little defensive, and Lyle realises he did just come storming into their fire station shouting and dropping three f-bombs in the space of five seconds.
“Diaz,” Lyle sighs. “It’s about what you said yesterday. I’m sure you don’t want me saying what I need to say in public.”
Lyle doesn’t mean for it to sound so threatening, but he can’t deny it’s amusing watching Diaz freeze and just about shit his pants at the thought of Lyle repeating anything he said in front of all his coworkers.
Diaz’s eyes dart over to Buckley in particular before he clears his throat. “Right, yep. We can, uh, go outside.”
“Eddie, what—” Buck tries to ask, and Lyle notices half the fire station is looking in curiously now.
“It’s fine, Buck,” Eddie says, holding out an arm to keep Buck in place. “I’ll be right back.”
Diaz makes his way down the stairs, and Lyle takes that as his cue to head out into the parking lot.
He vaguely hears Buckley complaining to his coworkers in a worried tone, but he can’t be bothered listening in properly.
Instead, he stands in the middle of the parking lot and waits for Diaz to come to a stop in front of him.
“Diaz—”
“Eddie,” Diaz interrupts. “You can call me Eddie.”
Lyle’s pretty sure his face blatantly shows how much he doesn’t want to do that.
But just in case it doesn’t, he shuts that shit down straight away.
“Yeah, I’m gonna stick with Diaz—”
“Right, okay, that’s—”
“Because you and Buckley have driven me insane for years,” is apparently where Lyle chooses to start. “I’ve never met anybody who’s as annoying and obsessed with each other as the two of you are. I mean, Buckley talks constantly but that’s not the worst part, it’s when he gets started talking about you. All the whining; he goes on and on and on. And then you started up too!”
Diaz looks like he’s going to try and get a word in, but Lyle doesn’t give him a chance.
“You’re codependent, and you have no boundaries. And you’re both completely and utterly in love with each other by the way.”
Diaz looks shocked, but Lyle still doesn’t let him speak.
“Yeah, he’s also in love with you, you idiot. So how about you don’t propose to that fucking ex-nun? And just to be safe, don’t propose to the fucking woman who looks like your dead wife either. Don’t propose to anybody except your equally dense partner back in there, because if I have to listen to the two of you pining and whining one more time I’m going to start wishing I was actually dead and not just in a paralysed state. So talk to each other instead of me. Is that clear?”
Diaz seems afraid to speak, and Lyle looks heavenward for strength.
“This is the part where you respond,” Lyle prompts. “Which, by the way, it’s crazy that I have to say that considering how much the two of you never shut up in my presence.”
Diaz looks stunned, but he does respond. “You’ve actually been able to hear us the whole time?”
Lyle takes a deep breath.
“Of course I’ve been able to hear everything,” Lyle says, trying very hard not to locate the nearest object and throw it in his frustration. “Or did you miss the fact that I was unconscious and not actually dead?”
“No, I mean, I—”
“Diaz, I’m begging you, tell me you understand,” Lyle says, entirely not above begging at this point.
Diaz doesn’t say a word, and Lyle groans.
He’s actually kind of desperate, because he absolutely cannot risk having to listen to Buckley and Diaz go on about how much they love each other ever again.
“You already know you’re in love with Buckley. I’m telling you Buckley is in love with you. You’re going to…” Lyle trails off, gesturing for Diaz to finish the sentence.
“I’m going to propose to Buck,” Diaz says without hesitation this time.
And that’s not—
That’s not exactly what Lyle was going for?
“Don’t you think that’s a bit soon, or—” Lyle cuts himself off. “Actually, you know what? Never mind. Yes, great idea. Go and propose to Buckley. That’ll make things pretty fucking clear.”
“So you think it’s a good idea?” Diaz asks, and oh boy does Lyle not want to discuss this further.
“Perfect idea,” Lyle says, trying to sound sincere. “Good luck, Diaz.”
And you know what?
A small part of Lyle does actually really hope they sort their shit out.
The larger part still does not give a fuck.
“Well, thanks, uh…” Diaz looks confused. “Hey, what’s your name, man?”
“Lyle,” Lyle admits, figuring it can’t hurt. “Lyle Kasey.”
“Thanks, Lyle,” Diaz says.
“You can thank me by never rambling in my unconscious presence ever again,” Lyle insists, turning to leave the station. “And I don’t want an invite to your wedding.”
*
Despite his protests, Buckley and Diaz show up at Lyle’s house a year later to thank him in person and hand him an invite to their wedding.
Lyle tells them he’s not fucking going.
He’s not going.
He’s really not.
*
Lyle goes to the wedding.
*
It’s quite a nice wedding actually, Diaz and Buckley look happier than he’s ever seen them before.
They’ve got a kid, too, apparently—Chris, if Lyle remembers correctly—and they’re all extremely happy standing up in front of their friends and family and Lyle .
A really nice wedding.
Until Lyle proceeds to collapse in the middle of the ceremony thanks to the narcolepsy.
And Lyle thinks about apologising, once he gains control of his body again of course, but then he decides fuck it.
It’s their own fucking fault for inviting him.
