Chapter Text
Morning comes quietly
Buck stands in the kitchen with a mug of coffee he hasn’t really touched.
Christopher is in the living room. Buck can hear the low murmur of the TV.
He exhales slowly and picks up his phone.
The call connects after the second ring.
“Buck?”
Bobby’s voice is rough with sleep but instantly alert.
“Hey, Cap.”
There’s a brief pause.
“You alright?”
Buck lets out a small breath.
“Yeah. I mean… mostly.”
That’s enough for Bobby.
“What happened?”
Buck leans his hip against the counter.
“Eddie’s parents showed up yesterday.”
Another pause.
“At the house?”
“Yeah,” Buck says. “Right when I got back from the hospital.”
He glances toward the living room.
He can hear Christopher laughing softly at something on the TV.
Buck lowers his voice.
“They were pounding on the door. Thought Chris was inside.”
Bobby exhales quietly.
“How’d that go?”
Buck huffs a humorless laugh.
“About as well as you’d expect.”
He runs Bobby through it quickly. Helena questioning him. Ramón getting heated. The whole thing spiraling in the driveway.
“They wanted to stay at the house,” Buck finishes. “Take Chris.”
Another short pause.
“And?” Bobby asks.
Buck rubs the back of his neck.
“And I told them no.”
His eyes drop to the coffee in his mug.
“It kinda… set Chris on edge.”
Silence hums across the line for a moment.
Buck shifts slightly, jaw tightening as the memory pushes back in.
“They—” he starts, then exhales. “They were talking about calling the police at one point.”
Another pause.
“Like they could just… force it,” he adds, quieter now. “Take him. Like Eddie doesn’t get a say in it.”
He swallows, fingers tightening slightly around the mug.
“I told them to go ahead,” he admits, voice low. “Call the police...”
The words hang there for a second.
“And then I—” Buck exhales, shaking his head faintly. “I brought up the will.”
—
“Used it against them.”
There’s something heavier in his voice now. Guilt, creeping in at the edges.
“I don’t know… it just—” he trails off, searching. “It didn’t feel right. Throwing that in their face like that.”
The silence stretches just long enough to feel it.
Then Bobby says, calm and steady,
“You protected him.”
“And Eddie knew exactly what he was doing when he put that in place,” Bobby adds, quieter but just as certain.
Buck exhales slowly, some of the tension easing, but not gone.
“Did I overstep?”
The question slips out before he can stop it.
Bobby doesn’t answer immediately.
When he does, his voice is steady.
“Buck… Eddie is lying in a hospital bed. And you are the one making sure his kid gets home, eats dinner, and knows what was going on.”
Buck swallows.
“You're not *over*stepping Buck. You're stepping up.”
“If anything,” Bobby adds, voice slightly humorous, “Athena would’ve been more than happy to escort them off the premises herself.”
Something in Buck’s chest loosens a Little.
“I uhh...don’t actually know where they went after that,” he admits.
Bobby hums.
Buck rubs his temple.
“I just texted them the number and address of the hospital.”
“So they’ll probably show up today I'm guessing?"
“Yeah,” Buck says quietly. “That’s what I’m expecting.”
Another pause.
Buck clears his throat.
“Hey, Cap?”
“Yeah?”
Buck stares down at the counter.
“I never really said thanks.”
“For what?”
“For the other day,” Buck says quietly.
“The umm…, the panic attack… You driving me to Chris. The PTO.” He lets out a small breath.
“You... didn’t even ask questions.”
Bobby chuckles softly.
“Didn’t seem like you were in the mood for paperwork.”
Buck smiles faintly.
Still, his voice turns more serious.
“I mean it though. That… helped. A lot. All of this... it's getting complicated...”
The line goes quiet for a second.
Then Bobby says simply,
“That’s what family does.”
The words settle, warmth spreading deep in Buck’s chest.
Buck huffs softly, something lighter slipping into his voice.
“Yeah… I guess you’re right,” he pauses, then, quieter, “pops.”
Bobby lets out a soft, warm laugh on the other end of the line.
Not surprised.
Not questioning it.
Just… fond.
And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“How’s Eddie?”
Buck glances toward the living room again.
"He’s doing better. They moved him out of the ICU this morning.”
“That’s good.”
Buck nods slowly.
“Yeah. Chris and I are going to visit him again today.”
Bobby hums approvingly.
Then Bobby says gently, “You’re doing the right thing, Buck.”
Buck closes his eyes for a second.
He almost believes it.
“Thanks, Cap.”
“Anytime, kid.”
Buck ends the call a minute later and slips the phone back into his pocket.
—
Then he picks up the coffee he forgot about and walks toward the living room.
Christopher looks up when he enters.
“Was that Bobby?”
Buck nods.
“Yeah.”
Chris tilts his head slightly.
“What’d he say?”
Buck smiles a little.
“I was just thanking Bobby for everything he’s done the past few days. He helped us out a lot.”
—————————————————
Buck pushes open the hospital doors with Christopher beside him.
“You okay?” Buck asks quietly.
Chris nods once.
“Yeah.”
They make their way down the hall toward the nurses’ station. Buck recognizes one of the nurses immediately, Kaity.
She looks up as they step into the room, and her expression softens immediately in recognition.
“Well, look who’s back,” Kaity says, a small, warm smile pulling at her lips.
Buck lets out a quiet breath, something easing in his shoulders at the familiarity.
“Hey.”
Her gaze shifts to Christopher, and something in her expression turns even gentler.
“Christopher,” she says softly, like it comes naturally. “I remember you.”
Christopher straightens a little at that, sliding closer to Buck’s side without thinking.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kaity’s smile warms.
“You were really brave the other day,” she adds gently. “That wasn’t easy.”
Christopher’s shoulders lift just slightly, and he smiles back at her.
Buck shifts slightly, settling more comfortably beside Christopher.
“How is he?” he asks.
She glances down at the chart in front of her before answering.
“He’s doing well,” she says. “His vitals have been stable all morning.”
Buck nods, something quiet and steady settling in his chest.
“The inflammation in his lungs is responding to the medication,” she continues. “And his oxygen levels are holding steady on the nasal cannula.”
Christopher listens closely.
“And his head?” Buck asks.
“Also improving,” Kaity says. “The swelling has gone down quite a bit since yesterday.”
She glances back at the chart.
“He does have a cracked and a broken rib from the CPR, which is fairly common after resuscitation. It’ll be painful while it heals, but it shouldn’t impact his recovery.”
Buck nods slowly.
“Okay.”
his gaze drops for just a second.
He knows why it happened.
Knows it meant the compressions were working.
But he can’t quite stop the small pang of guilt that runs through his chest at the mention of it
“You can go in,” She says gently.
Buck nods, murmuring a quiet thanks before his hand settles lightly at Christopher’s shoulder, guiding him forward.
—
They move down the hallway together.
Christopher’s crutches tap softly against the floor, uneven but steady, the sound echoing faintly in the otherwise quiet space. Buck keeps his pace slow, matching him without thinking, his hand hovering just behind Christopher’s back.
Buck slows as they reach it, his hand coming up to rest briefly against the edge of the frame.
Then he pushes the door the rest of the way open.
It moves quietly on its hinges, the soft click loud in the stillness.
The room is dimmer than the hallway, soft morning light filtering in through the blinds, stretching across the floor and the foot of the bed.
The steady beep of the monitor fills the space, low and rhythmic.
Eddie is still asleep.
Christopher stops just inside the doorway.
His crutches still for a moment, his weight shifting carefully as he takes in the room, his gaze locking onto the bed almost immediately.
For a moment neither of them says anything.
Eddie looks… different.
The harsh gray pallor that had clung to his skin in the ICU is gone, replaced by a faint return of color in his cheeks. The deep shadows around his eyes have softened, the hollow look fading now that he’s breathing on his own.
The heavy bandage that had wrapped around his head before is gone too.
In its place sits a smaller patch above his temple, secured neatly against his skin.
The nasal cannula rests under his nose, the clear tubing trailing back toward the monitor behind the bed.
He doesn’t look like a man on the edge of dying anymore.
He just looks like Eddie.
Christopher moves to the bed quietly.
resting his crutches carefully against the wall before lowering himself into the visitor chair.
Buck pulls a chair closer to the bed, letting himself fall into it as well.
For a while they just sit there.
Christopher swings his feet slightly, staring at the blanket pulled neatly over Eddie’s chest.
Buck doesn’t rush him.
Hospitals have their own kind of quiet. The kind that presses down a little.
After a while Christopher carefully, he slips his hand into Eddie’s.
He holds it tightly.
“Dad,” he says quietly.
Buck watches from the other side of the bed.
Christopher swallows.
“You can wake up now.”
His voice is small but steady.
“They said you’re getting better.”
Christopher pauses, eyes flicking briefly toward Buck as if he’s checking that he’s doing this right.
Buck gives him a small nod.
You’re doing great.
Christopher looks back at Eddie.
“You should wake up,” he murmurs. “...Please.”
Buck feels something warm and heavy settle in his chest.
He’s proud of him.
So damn proud of this kid.
Christopher shifts in his chair.
Then he frowns slightly.
“Buck?”
Buck looks up.
Christopher is staring at Eddie’s face.
“I think… his eyes moved.”
Buck leans forward immediately.
At first he isn’t sure.
Then he sees it.
A faint flicker beneath Eddie’s eyelids.
Buck straightens.
“Hey,” he says quietly, leaning closer to the bed. “Eddie?”
Christopher also sits up straighter, still holding Eddie’s hand.
Eddie’s brow tightens slightly.
His breathing changes.
Then his eyelids flutter.
It’s subtle at first, uneven...
And then, slowly...they open.
The light makes him wince. His eyes narrow instinctively, lashes sticking slightly as they lift, his vision unfocused, drifting.
He doesn’t see anything at first. Not really. Just shapes. Movement.
Until his gaze finds Christopher.
Recognition settles in immediately, quiet but certain.
Eddie’s lips part.
The first attempt is silent, just a breath that doesn’t quite form into words.
He swallows, throat tight, working past the dryness, the strain.
The second time, it comes out—
fragile. Broken at the edges.
“What… Chris?”
Chris' eyes fill almost at once, tears gathering faster than he can blink them away.
“Dad,” he breathes.
Eddie blinks slowly, still trying to focus, his expression dazed and unfocused. The room clearly isn’t making much sense to him yet.
Christopher shifts forward in his chair.
“I—”
He hesitates, looking down at the bed, at the wires, the oxygen line, the blanket tucked tightly around Eddie’s ribs.
Buck sees the moment the thought crosses his mind.
Christopher looks up at Buck, unsure.
Buck is already moving.
“Easy,” he murmurs softly, stepping around the bed. “I got you.”
He helps Christopher stand carefully, and gently guides him closer to the mattress.
Eddie watches all of it with slow, confused blinks.
“Chris—?”
Buck carefully helps Christopher climb onto the edge of the bed beside Eddie, making sure not to jostle any of the tubes and wires.
Christopher doesn’t hesitate after that.
He leans forward and wraps his arms around his father.
For a second Eddie freezes.
His body still sluggish, mind clearly struggling to catch up with everything happening around him.
Then something in his expression softens.
And his arms slowly lift and wrap around Christopher.
Eddie exhales softly against the top of his son’s head, eyes closing as he pulls him closer.
The tension leaves his shoulders almost instantly.
Christopher presses his face into Eddie’s neck, holding on tightly.
“I thought you died,” he whispers, on a slight sob.
Eddie doesn’t answer. He just holds him tighter.
One hand resting gently against Christopher’s back.
After a moment Eddie winces, one hand going to his chest.
“Alright, bud,” Buck says softly, When he notices.
“We should probably let him breathe.”
Christopher pulls back reluctantly.
A tear rolling down his cheek.
Buck helps him slide back into the chair beside the bed.
Eddie’s eyes follow him the whole way.
Then his gaze lands on Buck.
—
For the first time since waking up, he really looks at him.
Buck suddenly becomes very aware of the past few days written all over him.
Eddie’s brow furrows faintly, the movement slow.
His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at Buck, trying to focus past the lingering haze.
“You… okay?” he asks, voice rough. Each word dragged out and uneven.
Buck has to glance down for a second, blinking hard, his jaw tightening briefly before he reins it in.
“I’m fine,” he says quickly. Too quickly.
Eddie doesn’t look convinced.
He keeps watching him, eyes clearer now, more present, tracking the tension Buck is trying (and failing) to hide.
—
Eddie swallows, throat working painfully, his breath catching just slightly before he tries again.
“What… happened?”