Chapter Text
The first time Buck “met” Eddie, he wasn’t even awake for it.
He vaguely remembered being in some kind of club, the colourful strobing lights and the writhing bodies sandwiching him like a too warm blanket. The blond had been drunk out of his mind, lost in the haze of pleasure as strangers roamed their hands down his body until a feminine hand dragged him out of the crowd.
Buck recalled being pushed against the wall by a bottle brunette, who shot him a mischievous smile as if he was the one who grabbed her out of the club into a secluded alley outside. Buck smiled at her, dopey and drunk and stupid before she caved in and kissed him. He grabbed her hips and licked into her mouth, swallowing her moan. She was a good kisser, better than a lot of men and women he recently hooked up with.
Then, pulled back and waved a bag of pills in front of him. Well, Buck wasn’t a stranger to a little recreational pill every once in a while, and it had been a while. It was his birthday, anyway— one pill wouldn’t hurt.
She grinned when he opened his mouth and pressed a little pill on his tongue, giving him a loud peck when he obediently closed his mouth.
He nosed at her perfumed neck, feeling a little dazed now that the pill was melting in his mouth. He tried to kiss her but his movements were clumsy and he ended up mushing his cheek against hers instead.
“Woah,” Buck laughed, shaking his head slightly, “this stuff is strong.” She giggled on his shoulder as the blond wobbled on his feet. One second, they were kissing and the next, he was slumped against the wall.
There was a car, he thought. A black SUV and onetwothree men climbing out of it like a clown car. There were hands on him and he reflexively pulled back before a heavy fist connected with his temple.
The persistent ringing in his ears was making his vision swim and he was a second too late to evade or shield himself against the punch aimed directly on his stomach. The impact made him fold easily, barely sinking on his knees before he was pulled forward. He knew he slurred out pleas for them to stop because they were just so rough and it hurt but none of them said anything.
He settled in the car with a pained grunt, sandwiched between large bodies. Long fingers carded through his hair and he made a wounded noise at the back of his throat when it snagged on some bloody strands.
“Little puppy,” she cooed, “you’re so stupid.”
---
His consciousness came gradually; first came his twitching eyelids, his stiff fingers, his numb arms, then lastly his heavy legs. Soon, he was blinking awake, vaguely aware of the fact that they were transporting him, groaning as he was bodily dragged down an empty hallway in what seemed to be an abandoned building, judging by how grimy everything was. There was a cacophony of voices, some angry and some scared.
When he lifted his head, his heart sunk to the ground. He noticed that all around him were little rooms filled with children and women. Beyond the metal doors with little barred windows, he could hear several children crying and sniffling for their parents with varying degrees of distress.
It took them several minutes before they arrived in front of Buck’s “room”, unlocking the door and throwing him into the room with no regard of his comfort. He climbed to his feet and immediately slammed his shoulder against the solid metal door, letting out a pained groan when the door didn’t budge.
Fucking hell.
“Did the bad men get to you too?”
“Shit!” Buck spun around in surprise when he heard the small voice. There, curled with his back against the corner of the room was a child. He looked to be around six to seven years old, with wild brown curls and big green eyes hidden behind thick framed glasses.
“Uh, yeah,” he said dumbly. What are you doing here, kid, he reflexively wanted to ask but before he could say anything else, the door opened again. Buck scrambled to wrangle his heavy limbs so he was half crouching in front of the kid, but the sight of a familiar face caught him off guard.
“Doug?”
Buck was confused at the sight of his brother-in-law but the older man only looked him with barely contained anger. “Evan, where is Maddie?”
“Maddie?”
Doug rolled his eyes like Buck was being deliberately slow.
“Don’t even try to lie at me, tell me where she is,” he hissed with open ire. Buck’s mind raced with a thousand possibilities. Did Maddie run? Did she managed to escape?
He couldn’t help but relaxed slightly; even in his position, a smidge of satisfaction curled in his belly. She finally did it— Maddie had managed to run away where her bastard husband couldn’t follow. Doug must’ve seen the brief twitch of his mouth because he snarled and slammed him against the wall, ignoring the child’s terrified cry.
“Where is she?!”
His forearm pressed hard on his throat, causing him to gasp and claw at the older man. Unfortunately, Doug had always been stronger than him; Buck couldn’t beat him when he was well rested, let alone drugged and concussed.
“I don’t know!” Buck managed to yell back, panic creeping in when his vision started getting spotty from the lack of air. He let out a choked noise and scrambled to hit him but Doug only stared at him for a few long seconds while he struggled.
Finally, the man let up on the pressure and Buck couldn’t do anything but cough his lungs out, inhaling the air greedily. “You don’t know,” his brother-in-law sucked in an angry breath, “of course Philip didn’t tell his whore son anything. Anyone could fuck the answer out of you, couldn’t they?”
What the fuck?
Buck snarled at the insult and spit into his eye, only regretting it a little bit when the man immediately backhanded him so hard he blacked out for a second. “Fucking whore,” he sneered, “it’s a miracle that Philip haven’t sold you to Vincent’s brothel to pay off his debt yet. The old fucker will probably regret it once I put a bullet in your brain!”
The blond felt a flash of fear at the threat but despite his words, the older man simply paced around in the room like a caged tiger before storming out of there without a second look. Buck slumped on the floor, ragged inhaling the stale air in the room.
Good fucking riddance.
“Are you okay?”
Buck winced at the hesitant voice, fully forgetting the boy was there in the first place. Facing Doug’s anger made him feel like he was a little boy facing his father’s wrath again; scared, helpless and so fucking small that it embarrassed him. Still, he would do it again if it meant he would hear that his sister had managed to get away from her asshole husband. Buck could only mourn the fact that he couldn’t do anything to help her escape.
The Kendalls were a bunch of sadistic, greedy bastards who enjoyed bathing in carnage— even his father hadn’t dared to reject the marriage proposal from them. Not that it was a hard choice; none of his children mattered aside from his eldest son and heir, Daniel.
But Buck couldn’t say all of that, so he simply grimaced and nodded. It wouldn’t do to traumatise the young boy just so he could vent.
“I’m Buck,” he offered after a few minutes of silence. The boy looked at him hesitantly. “My name’s Chris,” he said with a slight stutter, “daddy said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers— but you seem nice. Are you here to save me?”
His heart dropped again, wondering how long the kid had been stuck in this room, breathing in the stale, damp air. Buck didn’t know how to answer that without breaking his heart but the kid was smarter than he thought. Even with his silence, Chris seemed to know anyway, slumping in defeat. He scooted back to sit against his corner, the furthest spot from the door.
The blond stayed silent until he heard some sniffles. The kid had started crying, silent tears wetting his cheeks.
Buck lamented his fate only for a second more because look, he was nothing if not weak against children, let alone sad children. “Hey, Chris,” he said hurriedly, “I’m pretty sure someone will get us out soon. My dad is pretty powerful.” It was true— Philip was one of the feared mafia bosses around LA, something that was both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse.
The boy seemed unconvinced, still sniffling with his arms curled tight around his own body but in an admirable display of bravery, he nodded shakily. “It’s okay, daddy is really scary too. He will find us,” the kid said and the blond almost smiled at the confidence. It must be nice to have a dad you admire so much that he might as well be a superhero.
Wanting to take his mind off the whole being kidnapped thing, he looked around for something to talk about. Then, he spotted the penguins on the boy’s shirt. “Hey, Chris, do you like penguins?”
The boy blinked once, twice and Buck was already regretting his question before the boy perked up slightly. “Yeah, they’re cool. I get to pet one last week,” he bragged quietly.
Bingo.
“Did they tell you that giant penguins used to live on Earth about 37 million years ago? They were around 2 metres tall and weighted over 100kg! That’s even taller than me,” he began to recite excitedly, immensely thankful for the random Wikipedia dive he did about emperor penguins a few weeks ago. The boy gaped in awe but Buck didn’t stop there.
“Did you know that a group of penguins in the water is called a raft but on land they’re called a waddle? Oh, and they like to stay close to each other so they can stay warm and safe.”
That got him a smile. “Aunt Pepa told me that one,” he said proudly but then his smile dimmed, most likely remembering his family. The next penguin fact died on the tip of his tongue when the boy sniffled again. “Buck, I’m kinda cold,” he said quietly.
Buck’s heart clenched at his sad tone but he didn’t say anything. He just scooted closer to the boy until he was burrowed under his arm.
---
He didn’t know how long he spent trapped in the room with Chris, the kid’s body a warm weight against his side as he regaled the boy with a few age-appropriate version of his shenanigans before the door opened again. This time, there was no Doug, only two burly men crowding the door.
Buck automatically shielded Chris behind him when they got closer, bracing for a fight. He didn’t know what Doug’s men wanted but he wasn’t giving up so easily. Unfortunately, the bigger of the two men lifted him up and threw him aside like he weighted nothing. The fall jarred his already bruised shoulder but he didn’t even feel it— not when they started dragging Chris away.
“No!” He shouted desperately. He scrambled to his knees but the man who wasn’t grabbing the kid tackled him on his back, pinning him to the floor with his whole body. Adrenaline surged through his blood when the boy cried out his name, kicking the man on top of him in the crotch. Then, he hit his face with his elbow once he instinctively pulled away to grab his junk.
Seeing the struggle, the bigger man let go of Chris who immediately went to the farthest wall from them. He tried to block him from the boy, intent on subduing him but the blond was faster; he ducked low and kicked the back of his knees and lucked out when the man fell and hit the porcelain sink like a sack of rocks.
He was shaking slightly and his instincts were screaming at him to bolt but then Chris whimpered, causing him to pause. His mind flashed to the children he saw along the way and his heart broke because he knew he couldn’t save them all.
But he could save Chris.
Buck scooped the boy with one arm, shoving the latch on and locking the door behind him, effectively trapping the two groaning men inside the room. The blond carried him close to his chest, feeling little arms and legs hanging tightly around his neck and waist.
He noticed that the kid had some trouble with walking earlier in the room and God, he prayed that the kid wasn’t injured too badly. There was no blood and he didn’t seem to be in pain but Buck would hate for anything to happen to him. He didn’t care that he was sacrificing one of his hands to hold the kid to his chest, ensuring the kid wouldn’t fall of so easily.
After making sure Chris was secure, he started running like hell.
He dodged the patrolling men with the experience of someone who spent years escaping the scrutiny of his father’s men, his footsteps light and near silent. His heart jackrabbited when he narrowly avoided a heavily scarred man by ducking into an empty room.
He was never going without a guard ever again.
By some kind of miracle, the room he entered seemed to be somewhere that used to be a kitchen, which meant that a backdoor was like close by. Sticking close to the wall, he navigated the dark room wide steps. After a minute, Buck found an unlocked door, probably a spot for Doug’s men to sneak off from patrolling and take smoke breaks.
“Okay, okay,” he exhaled to himself, trying to not get too excited. He knew that excitement was more dangerous than fear— fear made you sharp, the same couldn’t be said about excitement.
Still, he didn’t waste any time, knowing that they had probably realised by then that something went wrong. After all, it had been a few minutes since they came to take Chris.
He knew he should more careful this close to the exit but he couldn’t help it, craning his neck around to look out for beams of flashlights around the parameter. Once he deemed it safe to move, he picked a direction and started sprinting into the dark forest around the building.
The cold October wind stung his face while twigs and branches whipped his body but Buck couldn’t be less bothered by it— not when he was this close to freedom that he could taste it.
But the victory was short lived as a bullet whizzed past his head, nicking his ear.
No, he wanted to scream. His heart sunk as he heard the terrifying cacophony of angry voices and loud barks of the hunting dogs.
No, no, no.
Suddenly, a blinding pain burst from his right shoulder, causing him to stumble against a tree but Buck didn’t stop running. Couldn’t.
He wanted to hit the ground and cry out like Bobby would be there to patch his wounds but Chris was a shaking, whimpering bundle in his arms. Fuck, he was never leaving without a guard ever again. He wouldn’t even sass Bobby about not needing babysitters every time his father’s righthand man tried to keep him safe.
Black spots dotted his vision. Dying here wouldn’t be so bad— Maddie and Daniel would be sad, would probably avenge his death but he knew that his father would sooner whip him for getting caught in the first place— he had nothing to live for.
Except.
Chris was gripping the back of his shirt like his life depended on it and Buck just couldn’t stomach the thought of the boy dying in his arms. So, he kept going, kept running until his legs felt like jelly and his arms felt like they were falling out of their sockets.
It felt like eternity until they broke through the forest, his numb legs hitting the paved road with a shaky sequence of twack twack twack.
Sweet, sweet freedom, he thought deliriously, almost laughing if he could spare the breath.
Of course, that was when he heard it— the distinct roar of a car engine. Several. All coming from the bend just a few metres in front of them. Beams of light who would reach them in seconds, who would alert the drivers that there was a suspicious figure that didn’t belong to the night landscape.
His heart stopped, panic surging inside him and causing him to stumble to a stop. He fell in slow motion, going down on his knees heavily like a sack of rocks that would probably bruise spectacularly if he ever lived to see another day.
He couldn’t outrun a car.
He barely escaped the dogs, there was no way he could continue on after running on pure adrenaline for the past— Minutes. Hours. He didn’t even know how long it had been since he was drugged unconscious outside of the stupid bar.
There was no way—
Chris made a questioning noise when he suddenly fell but Buck was barely conscious at that point. The sudden stop, however brief, had amplified the pain and exhaustion he had been ignoring in favour of escaping Doug’s men.
Black spots danced in his vision and he could only faintly hear Chris’s alarmed shout. It was as if he was underwater but before he could shout at the boy to run, to hide, he could feel himself fading. In a few seconds, Buck could do little else than fall sideways, jarring his bleeding shoulder in the process.