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Buck wakes slowly, brain still foggy from sleep. He’s warm, buried beneath the quilt, but he’s not comfortable. There’s a dull cramping, just annoying enough to keep him from falling back to sleep, but he ignores it, rolling over to burrow into Eddie’s side.
Barring the aforementioned stomach ache, this was his favourite way to wake up, pressed up close to Eddie, breathing in his warm, sleepy scent.
“Morning,” Eddie mumbles, still drowsy and sleep rumpled. He turns, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple. “What time is it?”
“Early,” Buck replies, reaching for his phone. “But I think I heard the TV turn on.”
That means they’ve got maybe twenty minutes, at most, before Chris comes searching for them asking about breakfast. Most mornings after he’s slept over, Buck would be looking to make the most of it, either by attempting to catch a few more minutes of sleep, or encouraging Eddie into a quick romp beneath the sheets. This morning though, he’s just not feeling any of it.
Buck sits up, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’m going to grab a shower,” he says, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Hopefully the hot water will help wake him up. “I’ll see you out there.”
By the time he’s showered and changed, Buck is feeling at least seventy percent more human. He heads out to the living room to find Eddie sitting with Chris on the couch.
“Hey Chris, you excited about today?” Buck asks as he enters the room.
“Yeah,” Chris nods, climbing off the couch to follow Buck into the kitchen. “We’re going to see the spaceship, right?”
Buck laughs, ruffling Chris’s hair. “Of course we’re going to see the spaceship. You really think we’d take you to the science museum and not go see the spaceship?”
Eddie starts the coffee maker while Buck and Chris raid the fridge for eggs and milk to make pancakes. As much as the shower had helped, Buck’s stomach is still cramping painfully and the idea of breakfast isn’t all that appealing. Buck can never say no to Chris though, so he lifts the kid up onto his usual ‘supervisor’ spot on the counter and starts mixing the batter together.
He nurses his coffee over breakfast, his stomach churning at the thought of eating, and ignores the concerned looks Eddie keeps shooting at him from the other side of the table.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Eddie asks, cornering Buck while Chris is brushing his teeth. “You look a bit pale.” He reaches up to press his palm against Buck’s forehead. “We can hold off on the trip, go next weekend instead.”
“You’re such a dad,” Buck laughs, ducking away from Eddie’s hand. “I’m okay, just didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not entirely a lie. He’d woken in the early hours of the morning feeling unwell and had slept restlessly afterwards. “It wouldn’t be fair to Chris, cancelling now. He’s been talking about this all week, and I’m working next weekend.”
“We’ll go the weekend after then,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Chris will understand.”
"Eds, I’m fine, really.” Buck reassures him, his voice turning teasing. “It’s my fault anyway for letting you cook last night.”
Eddie smacks playfully at his shoulder. "You weren’t complaining last night when you went back for seconds!”
“Hey, I was just surprised you managed to cook something edible.” Buck ducks away from another smack. “And now I'm paying the price.”
“See if I ever do anything nice for you again,” Eddie tells him with a roll of his eyes. “Why don’t you finish getting ready and leave my cooking alone.”
The centre is busy, full of young families and kids running around. When they get inside, Chris herds them head straight towards the shuttle, chattering excitedly about what it must have been like to go to space. Buck follows along, nodding eagerly at all the right points while swallowing back against the nausea that’s begun to churn in his stomach.
By the time they finally stop for lunch, he’s feeling miserable. They line up at the cafe while Chris excitedly tells them more facts about the Endeavour spaceship but Buck is struggling to find the energy to stay enthusiastic. He stares off into space, letting Chris’s chatter wash over him, focusing on the cadence more than the actual words—
“Earth to Buck.”
Buck tunes back in to Christopher’s soft giggles. “Huh?”
“What do you want?” Eddie gestures to the menu.
“Oh, uh—” Buck’s stomach rolls at the thought of food. He was hoping his stomach ache would ease but it’s been getting worse all morning. “I’m, uh— not hungry, but you guys go ahead. I’ll find us somewhere to sit.”
He wanders off before giving Eddie a chance to respond, finding a spot to sit outside in the sun. Leaning back in his chair, Buck closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath.
“We got you a sandwich.”
Buck jerks in surprise and opens his eyes.
“Thanks buddy.” Buck takes the sandwich Chris is holding out to him and unwraps it before taking a cautious bite. Saliva pools in his mouth. “I’ll uh— I’ll be right back.”
He makes it to the bathroom, falling to his knees just in time to throw up the small amount of breakfast he’d eaten that morning. He continues heaving, bringing up nothing but bile while his stomach clenches painfully. When he’s done he closes the lid and sits on it, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach.
“Buck?” There’s a knock on the stall and Eddie pushes the door open. “Hey.” He rests his hands on Buck’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go home.”
“But Chris—”
“—isn’t going to have fun if you’re not having fun.” Eddie helps Buck to his feet. “We can come back another day.”
The nausea hasn’t let up by the time they get home. If anything, it’s worse. Buck’s no longer confident it’s food poisoning, the stabbing pain in his stomach having settled lower on the right hand side of his abdomen.
When they get back to the house, he locks himself in the bathroom, leaning heavily against the sink.
Buck’s not an idiot and he has his suspicions as to what’s making him sick, it’s just— maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just a really bad strain of stomach flu and he just strained something puking up his guts in the museum bathroom. It wasn’t completely beyond the realm of possibilities.
The nausea swells again, cresting like a wave and he lunges for the toilet. There’s nothing left in his stomach to throw up, so instead Buck just heaves, eyes tearing from the pain. His whole side is on fire.
“Fuck.”
He sits back against the bathroom cabinet. Eddie’s going to want to take him to the hospital, but that’s the last thing Buck wants. He’s still holding out hope that he can sleep it off.
Standing gingerly, Buck shuffles out of the bathroom and into the living room before gently lowering himself onto the couch.
“Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Eddie perches on the arm of the chair and strokes a hand through Buck’s hair. “Feel’s like you might have a fever.”
“I’m okay,” Buck mumbles, wrapping his arms around his middle to protect his stomach. “It’s just a stomach ache. Just need to sleep it off.”
Eddie frowns, but leaves him be.
Buck dozes restlessly for the rest of the afternoon, too nauseated to fully drift off. He gives up sometime around dinner. The house is quiet, but Buck can hear Chris moving around in his bedroom and the soft clatter of Eddie in the kitchen.
With a groan, he sits up and eases his legs over the side of the couch.
Eddie pokes his head into the living room. “Hey, dinner’s ready if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Buck waits until Eddie’s gone before rising, bracing himself against the side of the couch as he slowly rocks up onto his feet. He hobbles over to the kitchen, hunched over like some elderly person and using the furniture for balance.
By the time Eddie returns to the kitchen with Chris in tow, Buck is already sitting at the table, eyeing the soup with thinly veiled skepticism.
“Did you cook this?”
Taking a seat, Eddie shakes his head. “You’re already sick, I’m not going to torture you with more of my cooking.” He sets three bowls down on the table and takes a seat. “Don’t worry, it’s abuela’s. All I did was pull it out of the freezer and reheat it.” He glances up at Buck, his expression soft. “There’s also ginger ale and crackers if you want something a bit easier to stomach.”
“No. This uh— this looks good,” Buck says, pulling the bowl closer. One small bite is all he can manage before his stomach riots and he sets down his spoon in defeat.
“Hey Buck,” Chris pipes up around a mouthful of soup. “You know what helps me feel better when I’m sick?”
“What’s that?”
“My blanket and movies on the couch... and dad,” Chris adds after a beat. “Dad helps me feel better all the time.”
“I bet he does,” Buck says with a small smile.
“Maybe we could watch a movie after dinner,” Chris suggests, his eyes wide and expression hopeful. “It’s not late and it’s still the weekend tomorrow.”
“We can watch a movie together,” Eddie offers. “I don’t think that Buck will make it through a whole movie.”
Buck’s not even sure he’s going to make it through dinner. He’s been up for less than twenty minutes and he’s already fading. Still, he needs to maintain some semblance that he’s got it all under control, so he stands and starts clearing the table. “I’m up for a movie,” he says, managing to muster up some enthusiasm.
He can feel the weight of Eddie’s stare on his back and ignores it, filling the empty pot with water to soak. Bending down to pack the dishwasher proves to be an issue though, and he lets out a soft sharp exhale.
“Buck, why don’t you go get comfortable on the couch.” Eddie’s chair scrapes against the tile as he stands. “I’ll clean this up later.”
“It’s fine. It won’t take me long,” Buck says, waving Eddie away.
He expects an argument but instead, Eddie backs off, turning to Chris to wave him towards the living room. “Alright Superman, let’s go, get set up. What movie do you want to watch?”
Chris immediately starts listing options as Eddie follows him from the room and Buck breathes a sigh of relief before slowly packing the rest of their bowls into the dishwasher.
Buck is scrubbing away at the pot when Eddie returns. His boyfriend comes up behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder, his arms winding around his torso, pulling him close.
Buck melts into the soft embrace, right up until Eddie decides to jam his hand in his right side. The jolt of pain is so sudden and sharp that his vision grays out for a moment.
“What the hell?” Buck gasps, once he can speak again.
“I’m sorry, but I knew it,” Eddie says, his tone gentle and genuinely apologetic. “Come on, I’ll drive us in.”
“In where?”
“Buck.” Eddie counts off on his fingers. “Nausea, loss of appetite, sudden onset pain in the lower right side of the abdomen, worsening with movement or when push-tested. You almost certainly have appendicitis.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Buck insists. He can’t meet Eddie’s gaze. He hates that he’s right, hates what that means, and cold dread settles over him. “I’m fine, it’s probably just a bug.”
Eddie looks unconvinced. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“If it’s not better in the morning, I’ll get it checked out. Promise.” Buck knows he’s grasping at straws. He knows he’s being stupid and just drawing out the inevitable at this point, but—
“Evan,” Eddie says, softly, and Buck crumbles.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” The words tumble from Buck’s mouth, because that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? The whole reason he’s been downplaying how bad he feels, because he can’t stand the thought of spending even just one minute in that place.
“I know, Cariño, but you need to go,” Eddie tells him gently. “I’ll be with you the whole time.” He guides Buck back towards the couch, pushing down beside Chris. “Okay. You sit down, I’ll pack what we need.”
“But Chris—”
“Tia Pepa is coming,” Chris tells him. “She’s going to take care of me so that dad can take care of you.”
Buck surfaces slowly, mind foggy with sleep. The room around him is bright, even from behind closed eyes and there’s a steady beeping sound that burrows into his brain, refusing to let him rest.
He shifts, uncomfortable, his face scrunching at the sensation of something dragging across his cheeks. He tugs at the offending object with an arm that feels like it’s weighted with lead.
“Leave it alone.”
Warm fingers wrap around his wrist and his hand is pulled away.
“Eds—”
“Hey.” Eddie’s face swims into focus beside him. “Are you awake this time?”
“Mm.” Buck rolls his head towards Eddie, his free hand coming up to tug at the nasal cannula again.
There’s a soft swish of footsteps against the linoleum and the curtain rattles around the bed before a new voice says, “Mr Buckley, if you keep doing that, I will tape it to your face.”
“Sorry,” Buck mumbles, his nose wrinkling in discomfort. He lets his hand drop back to the bed.
The nurse busies herself checking the monitors before turning to the bed.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. “Any pain? Nausea?”
Buck shakes his head, still drowsy from the anaesthetic. “Just tired.”
“That’s to be expected. You’ll probably feel a bit fuzzy until the anaesthesia completely wears off.” She finishes taking his vitals and tucks her pen away in her pocket. “The doctor will be in soon to go over the post op and recovery instructions with you.”
She leaves them alone, closing the curtain around the bed and Buck immediately goes for the cannula again.
“Hey, they weren’t kidding about the tape,” Eddie warns him with a soft chuckle. “Neither am I, and I will call her back.” He’s still holding on to Buck’s hand, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles into his wrist. “So, how are you really feeling?”
“Tired.” Buck lets his eyes fall shut. “Sore...” The drugs still have a good hold on him and he forgets what he was going to say. He lets the sounds of the hospital wash around him, dozing on and off until the sound of the curtain being opened jerks him back to the surface.
He’s not sure how much time has passed, or even what time it is. It had been fairly early evening when Eddie had finally managed to drag Buck into the emergency room, but he doesn’t remember anything after that first shot of morphine. Even waking up after surgery is a bit of a blur.
“Mr Buckley, I’m Doctor Renolds,” the woman beside the bed introduces herself, before getting straight to the point. “Your surgery went perfectly, there were no complications.”
“That’s great,” Buck says, his head definitely still fuzzy from the anaesthesia. “So when can I get out of here?”
He ignores Eddie’s soft snort from his chair beside the bed and looks up at the doctor expectantly.
The doctor considers it for a moment. “We’re going to keep you here overnight,” she explains. “Depending on how things look we might be able to release you by tomorrow afternoon.”
“That long?” Buck flops back against his pillows with a groan. “But I’m already feeling much better. Are you sure you can’t release me now? I promise I’ll take it easy.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” Eddie says, amused. He leans forward, his arms folded against the bed railing. “It’s one day, Buck. I think you can manage that much.”
“I want to keep you on the IV antibiotics a little longer,” Dr Renolds tells them. “And, given your medical history, I think it’s best we keep an eye on you. We don’t want any surprises.” She shifts the blanket to check the incisions. “Now, someone will go over this when you’re discharged, but you’ll need to take it easy. An appendectomy is pretty routine, but it’s still surgery, so, no strenuous activity for at least four weeks.”
“But all my favourite things are strenuous,” Buck complains. “What about firefighting?”
“I’m pretty sure that counts as strenuous, so no.”
“What about sex?”
Dr Renolds exchanges a glance with Eddie. “That is definitely strenuous, so definitely no.”
“Yeah, but what if we’re really careful—”
“ Buck .” Eddie cuts him off with a shake of his head. “He’s not uh—”
“It’s fine,” Doctor Renolds tells him, drawing back the curtain around the bed. “Look, your primary care doctor will go over everything in your follow up once you’ve been released. In the meantime, Mr Buckley, I suggest you get some rest.”
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Eddie says, once the doctor’s gone.
“It was a serious question,” Buck argues. “I needed to know.” He huffs out a laugh at the look on Eddie’s face, expression twisting into a grimace when the movement jostles his stomach. “Ow. You’re not allowed to make me laugh.” He slumps back on the bed and lies there, eyes closed for a minute. “You don’t have to stay here. It’s pretty late. You should go home. To Chris.”
“He’s probably sleeping by now,” Eddie says, his voice sounding distant as Buck is pulled back under. “But I’ll stay ‘till you fall asleep.”
Buck wakes, disoriented. At first he thinks he's at his apartment because Eddie isn't beside him, but then sounds filter in and he remembers where he is.
Over the course of the morning, the hospital staff make Buck get up and move around. He's in a room now. There's just one other unoccupied bed across from his and a small shared bathroom.
Buck takes the opportunity to change out of the gown. He finds a well worn pair of sweatpants in the bag Eddie packed. The waistband is stretched and loose enough that they don't cause too much discomfort if he wears them low on his hips.
By the time he's back in bed, he's exhausted. His stomach is aching, but it's different from the stabbing pain of his body trying to kill him. He suspects this is why the doctor warned against anything strenuous.
Buck sends off a message to Eddie, asking what time he's coming over, but falls asleep before the reply comes through.
"—might be sleeping."
"I know. I'll be quiet Dad."
"I'm awake," Buck mumbles, turning towards the door. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up a little.
“Buck.” Chris’s face lights up as he makes his way over to lean against the bed. “I made you a card.”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then.” Buck pats the bed and Eddie lifts Chris up to tuck into his left side. “Oh, this is great,” he says, opening up the card.
“He spent all morning on it.” Eddie presses a kiss to Buck’s hair before pulling up a seat. “You’re looking better, you were so pale yesterday."
"I feel better," Buck admits, wrapping an arm around Chris’s shoulders.
“Oh, actually,” Eddie says with a start. “If you’re feeling up to it, you have some more visitors. They’re downstairs. I said I’d let them know if you were awake.”
Buck makes a half-hearted gesture. “Who is it?”
“Most of the team. And Maddie. She said she sent you a message this morning but you didn’t respond.”
“Oh.” Buck searches the sheets for his phone, cracking open one eye to check the notifications. “Oops. Yeah, sure. They can come in.”
He zones out to the sound of Eddie tapping at his phone and the soft beeping of Chris’s Switch.
A few minutes later the door creaks open.
“Oh Evan,” Maddie says, quickly rushing to his side. She frets over him, straightening the sheets he’d kicked to the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine Maddie,” Buck reassures her, carefully levering himself up into a sitting position as the rest of the team enters.
“Are you sure?” Chim asks, adjusting Jee on his hip. “Because you look like sh—” he glances at Chris “—crap.”
“Yeah, good save,” Eddie teases with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky he’s obsessed with that thing.” He points to the game Chris is currently absorbed in.
“So what’s the verdict?” Bobby asks, standing at the end of the bed.
“They’ll probably release him this afternoon,” Eddie says, filling them in. “But he’ll be off work for a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t believe my appendix called it quits after thirty years,” Buck whines. He’d been doing so well too, managing to keep himself out of hospital for almost two years.
“I can’t believe you thought you could sleep it off.” Eddie shakes his head, incredulous.
“In my defense, your cooking really is that bad,” Buck tells him.
“You know,” Hen says, pulling up a chair. “Most cases of appendicitis are in people between twelve and twenty. Trust you to “buck” the trend.”
“That’s not funny,” Buck mutters.
“No, it’s pretty funny,” Chim teases, perching on the edge of the bed. “Here, I know something that will help you feel better,” he says holding up Jee.
“Yes, give me my niece.” Even as exhausted as he is, Buck would never turn down cuddles with Jee-Yun.
“Buck, you’re not allowed to lift anything,” Eddie reminds him, reaching over to take Jee. He settles her so that she’s standing in his lap, hanging on to the side of the bed.
“She’s not even heavy.”
“No lifting.”
Buck glares at his boyfriend, but he’s pretty sure the effect is lost when he can barely keep his eyes open.
As much as he’s enjoyed seeing his friends, he’s completely wiped, so it’s a relief when Bobby suggests it’s time to go. Buck shoots him a grateful look as the team says their goodbyes and file out into the hall.
He spends the rest of the afternoon drowsing until his doctor comes by and tells him he’s being released. Buck leaves the details up to Eddie, letting him sort out the paperwork and prescriptions while he waits with Chris.
His shoes lie abandoned beside him on the bed. Buck had made one aborted attempt to put them on before quickly realising that bending over was a bad idea. The nurse comes by before Eddie returns and Chris watches on in fascination as she removes the cannula from Buck’s arm.
“That was so gross,” he says, scrunching up his face.
Buck has to press his lips together to keep from laughing. “You didn’t have to watch,” he teases, easing himself up off the bed. He eyes his shoes, still lying on the bed, then decides he probably doesn’t need them anyway. Knowing Eddie, he’s probably going to insist on wheeling him right up to the car.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Eddie asks, entering the room. He tucks the bottle of antibiotics into Buck’s bag and hoists it onto his shoulder. “Someone’s bringing around a wheelchair and then we can get out of here.”
Buck smirks to himself. Called it.
He doesn’t think about it until he’s buckling his seatbelt.
“Ugh.”
“What?” Eddie glances across at him as they pull into the afternoon traffic.
“Nothing,” Buck reassures him. “I’m just thinking about how much the stairs at the apartment are going to suck.”
Eddie frowns, his brows drawing together. “We’re not going to your apartment,” he tells Buck. “We’re going home.”
“Home?”
“You know, the place you sleep six nights out of seven,” Eddie says with a fond roll of his eyes. “That home. With me and Chris.” He says it with such certainty, leaving no room for argument.
“Is this your way of asking me to move in?” Buck asks, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Because this is not how I imagined this conversation going down.”
“You already live with us, Buck,” Chris declares from the back seat.
“Oh.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Chris before turning back to Eddie. “In that case, let’s go home.”