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This was not him. Eddie Diaz did not panic. Eddie Diaz held it together. He was not the kind to be crying on the floor of his kitchen when he was supposed to be at work. He was not the kind to hit himself in the head just so he could be in control of some of the pain he felt. Sitting on the floor, wiping at the tears that wouldn't stop falling, he could only think about how he had failed Christopher again. He should've been able to love her but deep down he knew why he couldn't. Eddie didn't register the key turning in his door or the sound of footsteps, but he felt a hand grip his wrist as he was punching himself yet another time.
Looking up, Eddie saw Buck. And Buck was not letting go. He knew Buck was speaking. It looked like he was screaming, but Eddie couldn't hear him through the pounding in his ears. Eddie couldn't hold on too much anything, but he could hold on to Buck. He knew Buck was always there. When his friend forced his arms away from him, Eddie broke. He let himself be wrapped in a hug. He let tears fall on the younger man's shoulders. He didn't protest when Buck effortlessly scooped him up into his arms and moved him to the couch.
Buck had knelt down beside the couch and began softly running his hands through Eddie’s hair. He started to speak again, and Eddie felt like shit that he still couldn’t make out what was he saying. He could feel his breathing returning to normal and the pounding in his ears slowing. Somewhere in it all, Buck had pulled out his phone and put music on. Eddie began to hear the soft melody playing.
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And that is how he ended up slow dancing with his best friend in his living room at 9:30 on a Wednesday morning. For a few minutes, as Eddie laid his head against Buck’s shoulder, everything thing felt right.