While You Were Saying Bobby Nash Is Dead I Was Studying The Blade The Backwards Blurry Script Page In

Eddie isn't sure what he's expecting when Buck meets him at the airport. Red-rimmed eyes, splotchy face, hunched shoulders probably. Not this. Distant eyes, blank face, straight-backed. He'd been braced to catch Buck as soon as he landed, had spent his whole flight locking every bit of his own grief away to be thought about at a later date, let the guilt pool in his chest instead.

I should've been there, I could've -

He'd been ready to catch Buck, but it's Eddie who falls into Buck's waiting arms. Eddie who tears up. Eddie who clutches at the back of Buck's shirt like a scared child. And it's Buck sweeping his hands up and down Eddie's back, holding him together, murmuring:

"It's okay. I've got you. It's not your fault."

Eddie doesn't cry in LAX. His grief is a private thing. Always has been. He locks it into his bedroom and lets it out behind closed doors. But Buck is the safest space he's ever had, so he lets himself break a little. Lets himself shake apart under Buck's hands until he can ground himself with a deep breath at the junction of Buck's neck and shoulder. Until he can stand on his own.

Buck looks at him, eyes searching, deepest of furrows between his brows, so devastatingly gentle. And Eddie kind of wants to fucking scream at him for being okay. He'd needed to take care of Buck. He'd needed to have something to do. But now Buck is looking at him like he can fix him, and Eddie wants him to. So badly. But Buck knows Eddie's grief is for South Bedford Street, not LAX, so all he does is lead Eddie out to the parking lot.

It's a silent drive. Buck tells him the details of the funeral. Clinical. Sparing. And Eddie watches Buck's knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Listens to the creak of leather under an unyielding grip. And he sees it then. The countdown over Buck's head, ticking away steadily. He's grateful in a way.

They pull up to the house silently. The engine falls quiet. And they stare at the door. The door Bobby had appeared on the other side of just a few months ago for a goodbye dinner. At the house. The house Bobby made coffee in when Eddie couldn't stomach being alone. At the home. The home Bobby helped him build in every way.

Buck gets out of the car. Eddie follows. Buck unlocks the door. Eddie locks it behind them. Buck disappears into the kitchen. Eddie pauses.

Can't quite separate Bobby from kitchens in his mind. And it's not like Bobby ever cooked anything in Eddie's kitchen, but there's some stupid grief-crazed part of his brain that thinks he'll find Bobby at the stove for a last supper. A parting gift to Eddie. Because Bobby was always too good. Too generous. Too understanding. When it came to Eddie.

When he finally makes it in there, Buck is stood staring into the fridge. Vacant. Eddie joins him, presses their shoulders together as hard as he can without knocking Buck away, and looks at Buck's fingers curled loosely around two beer bottles. Eddie knows it's not the early hour staying his hand.

It feels wrong. To find comfort in alcohol at Bobby's expense.

Carefully, Eddie unpicks Buck's fingers from the bottles and watches as Buck's arm falls limp to his side with such weight it bounces off his hip. Swings once, twice, stops suddenly. Eddie grabs the water filter. Closes the fridge.

"Sit down," he whispers. Sure, steady.

Buck sits down.

Eddie grabs two glasses. Fills them with water. Leaves the filter on the side. Who cares? Who fucking cares? Takes the glasses over to the table in shaking hands. Spills only a little. Sits opposite Buck. Stares into his cup.

"I didn't say it back," Buck rasps eventually.

Eddie picks his head up with great effort. Ony manages it because he wants to see what hurt he's caused. Their missing medic. Absent in their hour of need.

"What?"

"B-he-he told me he loved me." Buck's eyes go wide. Horrified. Haunted. Hollow. "He t-told me he l-loved me, and I could-couldn't say it back be-because that would mean..." Buck chokes a sob into his hand. "I thought we'd fix it. I-I-I thought we'd find a way. We-we always do. I couldn't say it-it. I didn't want t-to let him go. And now, he's..." Buck's face crumples first. Then, the rest of his body follows, folding in on itself in the chair until he looks almost as small as Christopher had the first time he'd ever sat at this table. "He's d-gone, and he doesn't know I love him."

"He knows, Buck." Eddie's hand curls into a fist on the tabletop. Doesn't know what to do. For all he'd been ready to hold Buck together, he's not sure how. "He knows you love him, Buck. You told him every single day."

"But I never said the words!" he snaps. Pure rage. Pure guilt. He looks up at Eddie. Blue eyes wet and red and wild. The rage and the guilt seeps away, leaves only pure grief. "I never said the words."

He sobs then. Doesn't choke it down. Lets it out. Eddie reacts like it's instinct even though he's never done this before. Just somehow knows in his bones what to do when it comes to Buck.

He stands, rounds the table, slides a hand into Buck's hair, one on his shoulder, pulls Buck's face into his stomach and holds him there, holds him together. Buck's fingers tangle themselves in Eddie's belt loops. A lifeline. And Eddie holds him tight as he can.

"All the times you cooked for him. All the times he cooked for you. The two of you cooking together. You had your own language, Buck. He knows you love him."

And all Eddie hears is: you're gonna stand there with a hundred-something bodies on you and tell me I'm not fit for duty. Did Bobby know Eddie loved him too?

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Eddie drops his cheek to the top of Buck's head. Stops holding Buck together and starts holding on. Buck's hands grasp at his hips, twist into the back of his shirt just like Eddie's had at the airport.

And all Eddie hears is: I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything before you can allow yourself to feel anything.

i have no idea if they plan to keep bobby dead or if they will bring him back but i know this. eddie will not be going back to el paso after the funeral. sure he’ll go back to sell the house of smth but he’s going to move back. not because of buddie (though that will be a huge win) but because eddie doesnt want to miss anything else. eddie created a life and a family for himself in la. his son spent half his life there and his second dad is there too. eddie will not move back to el paso because bobby dying will remind him of that life he built and him not being there for bobby’s death will remind him that he doesnt want to miss his family anymore

Hi hello yes i need to buy a gun. Uh-uh. Yes. Well yes I did just watch 2x13 “One Day” but I fail to see how that’s relevant.

Whoever decided to kill off Charles - WATCH YOUR FUCKING BACK. WATCH. YOUR FUCKING. BACK. YOU WATCH YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BACK.

Chim, struggling with a recipe: Eddie, can you Google how many ounces are in a cup? My hands are covered in flour.

Eddie: Sure, one sec. Buck!

Buck: Yeah?

Eddie: How many ounces are in a cup?

Buck: Eight.

Eddie: Thank you.

Chim: Now, what the hell was that?

Eddie: Six years, Chim. Haven't had to Google a thing.

Chim: Mmhm, why don't you ask Buck what the definition of codependency is next?

As a Destiel fan I can't believe I'm saying this...but I honestly believe those freaking firefighters are gonna make it

Some wolfstar fluff I did a while ago, but never posted. I'm actually still really proud of this one! I usually struggle a lot with anatomy, but ESPECIALLY colour theory lol. And I know this piece right here sure as hell isn't perfect, but DAMN if I am not proud of it anyway! I tried, and I can see the results. And ain't that great? :D

Anyways, this was based on a tumblr post I saw on Pinterest at some point, but I am so not looking it up anymore. Yeurr.

Happy Destiel day you guys!!!!! 16 years holy shit??

Also wtf is going on with trump AGAIN ISTG

BUCK: FUNERAL BELL

for kaitlin @iinryer. please look at the gorgeous thumbnail she made!

tags! <3 @goldenbcnes @chronicowboy @2x01diaz @poughkeepsies @ilostyou

@911onabc @faethfigueroth @try-set-me-on-fire @jeeyuns @youreonyourownkid

@userautumn @eddiebabygirldiaz @leothil @outdiaz @jjudaslips

@exhuastedpigeon @shitouttabuck @bvckandeddie @wearherlikeanecklace @oneawkwardcookie

@diazly @smallandalmosthonest @canonfageddie @freakazoidfag @lemmeaskthedevil

@sibylsleaves @chappellroanofarc @cranberrymoons @fruitydiaz @hunybody

@roy-kents @henswilsons @dadbodbuck @wellcollapse @spoilerspawn

@spacediscos @daughter-of-winterfell @gayedmundo @watchyourbuck @maddiebuckettebuckley

@buckgettingstruck @evcn @eddiegettingshot @standback @pikapitou

Bruce secretly went back to med school and just never told anyone. He didn’t see the point, it’s lot like he’s an active doctor. But he does have the qualifications

After Tim took over most of the CEO duties for Wayne Industries, Bruce had a lot of free time during the day. A few public appearances once or twice each week and doing his Batman duties just wasn’t enough to keep him entertained

His brain moves a million miles a minute. He could snoop around and see if his kids needed any help on some of their cases, but he really doesn’t need them pissed off at him

So, why not go back to school? Boom, easy as pie. Go to classes during the day, study in the afternoons. Before he knew it, his diploma had arrived in the mail

He contemplated taking a picture of it and posting it on a social media app, but eh. Would anyone even care?

Anytime his kids make a joke about him being a college drop out or Alfred makes a snide comment about not finishing school, Bruce fantasizes about showing them his degree and seeing the embarrassment on their faces

But he doesn’t, cause it honestly doesn’t matter that much to him. School has always and will always be easy for him. He just didn’t have the drive or will to complete it the first time around

It makes it easier to help out his boys when they get injured on patrol. If Alfred’s preoccupied without another person or maybe just not there at all, Bruce can handle it easily

It’s not like he couldn’t before, obviously, he’s Batman. He was perfectly medically trained before he got his degree, now it’s legal. That’s the only thing that’s changed

if I had a nickel for every time a ship I shipped had a person named Buck who the other person in the ship left I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice