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Eddie had expected to find an exhausted Buck behind his apartment door, but the darkening shiner is a surprise. He doesn’t remember Buck getting injured during their call and he knew Buck didn’t have any plans tonight hence Eddie showing up, but there it is. A bright, black and blue bruise blending with the birthmark on his eye.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Eddie asks as he pushes past Buck to put his beer in the fridge.
Buck scoffs. “Nice to see you so worried, Eddie. Please, come in, make yourself comfortable while I try to figure out what to use for ice.”
Eddie is already reaching for a plastic bag from the drawer beside the silverware while opening the freezer with his other hand. He pushes the drawer shut with his hip and fills the bag, tying it off with the zip ties Buck keeps stocked in a mug Christopher made for him during art class. It’s shaped like an otter because Buck had surprised Christopher with a trip to the aquarium the week before and was instantly obsessed.
“Go sit outside. Get some fresh air to knock away the bad attitude someone punched into you, will you?” Eddie suggests, gesturing to the balcony door. Buck sighs but relents, leaving the glass door open as he plops down on the patio chairs he had finally invested in a few weeks prior.
“How did you know I got punched?” Buck asks, leaning forward so he can see what Eddie is doing. Eddie is in the process of placing the cold casserole that Abuela had given him when he dropped Christopher off for the night in the oven, setting it to warm so he has time to figure out exactly what had happened to Buck.
“I’ve seen what a punch in the face does to a man. Left some myself a time or two,” Eddie notes. He ignores the way Buck raises his eyebrows in intrigue, opting to sass him instead. “Plus, it’s about time someone hit you. You just have such a punchable face.” Eddie grins at Buck who makes an unimpressed face and leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
“It’s not funny, Eddie,” Buck mutters.
This time, Eddie can hear the worry in his voice and it causes his own to rise up in his chest. He doesn’t panic, though—he doesn’t do that anymore—but he offers Buck a small smile as he waits for the oven to preheat. He leans against the doorway so he can hear the beep and tosses the ice pack into Buck’s lap.
“It’s not, but you looked like you could use some cheering up so I’m trying.” Buck smirks at that but it’s gone almost in an instant. “Who do I have to fight?” Eddie asks if only to see Buck smile again.
“Careful, Eds, we don’t want Edmundo 2.0 coming back.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at the nickname.
“What number am I at now? I would’ve thought after almost dying three times, I would have been way past 3.0,” Eddie teases but it falls flat. Buck stares up at him with even more sorrow in his eyes than before. “You gonna tell me what happened?” Eddie asks, softer this time.
“Maddie called me. After… Well, before she left. She, uh, told me that she needed time away—from Jee, from Chim, from… me.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Eddie asks. It’s not an accusation but the way Buck flinches as if he’s been hit again causes Eddie to sigh. “Oh, Buck.”
“I didn’t know what to do, Eddie. The last time I tried to get her to stay, it only pushed her to leave again. I know Maddie and when she has her mind set on something, no one can stop her,” Buck explains. He’s so sure of himself, as Buck always is, and Eddie can’t help but be a little proud of that.
“You told Chimney that?” Eddie prods.
“He figured it out. One runaway girlfriend and he’s suddenly Shawn freaking Spencer,” Buck responds bitterly.
“I can’t believe you started Psych without me!” Eddie chastises before realization sets in. “Wait, Chimney did that to your face?” The oven beeps so Eddie heads back in, gesturing for Buck to continue on with his story as he sets the oven timer. He makes his way over to the fridge to grab two of the cold beers leftover from the last time he was there.
“I didn’t even know he could pack a punch like this!” Buck exclaims, clearly annoyed. “He’s like half a foot shorter than me, man.” He pouts and Eddie hands him his beer while leaning in closer to inspect that damage again.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with his aim,” Eddie notes, ignoring the way Buck glares at him. “He got you good.” Eddie doesn’t think Buck hears anything but blame in the words.
“Look, I get why he’s mad. What am I supposed to do? She begged me not to tell him we talked.”
“She’s your sister,” Eddie says. It’s a fact that both of them are aware of, but Eddie thinks it bears repeating to try and ease Buck’s guilt.
“I thought I could help them both. Could, uh, convince her to come home and stop him from spiraling out of control…” Eddie hums, considering. “Kind of feels like I failed on both fronts.” Buck always makes himself the middle man and it never turns out in his favor. He says as much, regretting his words as soon as he says them.
“You were always gonna fail.”
Buck glances up at him in surprise and notes, “Well, that’s dark.”
As far as reactions go, Buck’s could have been worse. Eddie takes a sip of his beer and purses his lips as he thinks of what to say next. Buck needs reason. He needs to see the other side of things. He’s so blinded by keeping the family he finally has happy, he hasn’t stopped to realize that it isn’t his job to make everyone happy.
It was a lesson Eddie had learned recently and he felt the need to let Buck in on it, too.
“Look, you love Maddie, and you love Chimney, and you’re the guy who likes to fix things,” Eddie paused but Buck couldn’t argue with that, “but maybe this isn’t something you can fix. Maybe it’s not your job to fix this.”
“He kept on saying that, you know? ‘She could be in trouble, she needs our help,’” Buck repeated his conversation with Chim, “but I know she’s gonna be okay.” He is so sure of that and Eddie knows he’s right. Before he can say as much, Buck shakes his head. “He just doesn’t know her the way I do.”
“Or you don’t know her the way he does,” Eddie offers. Eddie raises an eyebrow at Buck like a challenge he knows Buck won’t argue against. “When you think of your sister, you see this person you’ve always looked up to, the woman who’s taken care of you, but maybe that’s not who she is right now.” Eddie takes a breath. “This time, maybe she’s the one who needs taking care of.”
Eddie has learned that over the last few months, too. He had always been the one to provide care; to his fellow soldiers, to the victims he treats, to his son, his wife, his parents, his extended family, the people he loves. When he was shot, he didn’t want help, didn’t think he deserved it, and at first, he tried to push everyone away. He went as far as kicking Buck out of his house after the first few nights of being waited on and sending Christopher to stay with Tía Pepa for longer than he probably needed to.
It wasn’t until Buck showed up after Eddie got stuck trying to change his shirt that they talked about it. The scene was eerily similar to the one they are in now. Each of them had beers in their hands and they were sitting on their respective sides of Eddie’s couch, Buck with the same pleading gaze in his eyes. That time Buck was begging Eddie to let him in, to take care of him in the way he wasn’t allowing anyone else. He would allow Buck, though, because he knew he wouldn’t have a choice.
He knew Buck. He knew that the second Maddie asked him not to say anything, he wouldn’t. He knew that the moment Chimney realized what would happen, the guilt would weigh heavy on his mind. He knew that the pain in his eye didn’t come close to the hurt in his heart that he had kept something so huge from Chimney.
“You think he’s gonna forgive me?” Buck asks.
Eddie also knew that Buck was going to listen to him and take his words into careful consideration.
“No,” he says, taking a sip of his beer and ignoring the panic that flashes across Buck’s eyes before he can’t take it any longer. “Kidding! I’m kidding,” he pauses for longer than he needs to in order to coax a smile from Buck, then adds, “maybe.”
Buck drops the ice pack on the table beside him and stands up like he’s going to punch Eddie to make up for the black eye he’s sporting, but instead, he walks over until they’re toe to toe. Buck searches Eddie’s face for a moment and then, as if his decision was easily made, he pulls Eddie into a tight hug.
Eddie doesn’t specifically know how to react. He wasn’t going to put his hands up in protection even when he thought Buck was going to punch him so now, he just isn’t sure what to do with his hands. His beer is still pinched between his fingertips and he doesn’t want to drop it but he wants to hold Buck because obviously, his friend needs it.
Eddie starts to lean over to put the beer on the table beside them when he feels Buck start to pull away. He moves a little quicker, tossing the beer onto the countertop before wrapping Buck up in his arms. Buck nuzzles into his neck, the warmth of his bruised eye radiating against Eddie’s skin and the breeze of his even breaths cooling it instantly.
It feels right to have Buck in his arms and he tries and fails to remember that the last time they hugged that wasn’t because one of them was coated in blood. He’s never been incredibly affectionate—to anyone besides his son and his Abuela—but Buck is different. He’s always been different and deep down, Eddie knows there’s more to it than just a friendship built in shared trauma and necessity.
“Ice goes on the eye, Bud,” Eddie mutters. He tosses in the name to somehow balance out the gentle way he holds Buck’s chin between his fingers to inspect the bruise again.
If it’s just an excuse to get as close to Buck as he can, to feel his warmth, the smell of the beer on his breath and the cologne he’s never without, to see those bright blue eyes just a little closer so he can get lost in them like waves out at sea… He’ll take any excuse he can get.
“Yeah, I got it,” Buck murmurs.
The timer on the oven goes off and Buck pushes back almost hesitantly like he isn’t quite sure it’s the best decision. It isn’t, if Eddie has a say in it, but Buck needs to make it on his own. Eddie’s already put himself out there, letting Buck in on the parts of his mind that he’s scared to share with anyone else. It’s his turn to take the next step and Eddie’s going to let him take the time he needs.
“I’m gonna go take the casserole out. You wanna eat out here or…?” Buck shrugs as he sits, tapping his fingers on the neck of the bottle slowly. “I’ll just—”
Eddie moves quickly into the kitchen, grabbing an oven mitt from the drawer he knows they’re stored before taking the dish out of the oven. He places it on the heat protector pad Buck had bought two of; one for Eddie’s home and one for his own. He was apparently sick of Eddie misusing his kitchen and couldn’t sit back and continue to let it happen.
When he turns to head back out to the balcony, Buck is making his way inside, two empty bottles held between nimble fingers. Eddie pretends he doesn’t notice.
“In here then?” Eddie asks and he sorts through the container with Buck’s scoops. When he can’t find the one he’s looking for, he opens the dishwasher and finds it dirty, quickly washing it in the sink.
“You’re comfortable here,” Buck points out. It’s not as much of a threat as Eddie makes it out to be in his head, but he feels the need to defend himself.
“I helped you move in. I know—”
“So did Bobby and Athena, Chim and Maddie but none of them know this place like you do,” Buck says. This time, his words sound like a challenge. Eddie’s silent for a few moments too long and Buck sighs. “I like when you’re here. I— I was ready to just lock it in for the night, stew in my self-pity and depression, but then you showed up, and…” he gestures around his loft, “acted like you live here.”
“Does that bother you?” Eddie asks because, at this point, he can’t really tell.
Buck shakes his head, “No. It— I just— can’t remember the last time Taylor was here, the last time I wanted her to be the one here.”
“I thought things were great with Taylor,” Eddie notes, busying himself with cutting the casserole so his emotions don’t show. It’s not that he doesn’t like Taylor, he just doesn’t like her for Buck. He doesn’t think he’d like anyone for Buck, if he’s honest with himself. “Did something happen…?”
“Maddie left,” Buck says and before Eddie can respond, he shakes his head. “Maddie left and Chimney punched me in the face. Harry was kidnapped and we had some of the worst days we’ve ever had in this city and—”
“And what, Buck?” Eddie urges.
“She didn’t stop by. She sent me some texts saying she hoped I was okay and to call her if I needed her. She said she would drop everything for me if I asked her to, but…”
“You aren’t the type of person to ask,” Eddie finishes for him. Buck nods and makes his way over so he’s pressed against Eddie’s side. He helps him scoop two plates before nudging their hips together and moving back toward the island counter.
“Why did you come here tonight?” Buck asks after they’ve both sat in a comfortable silence.
“Chris wanted a night with Abuela,” Eddie responds but Buck raised an eyebrow at him.
“You could’ve stayed home, had a night to yourself that you haven’t had for weeks, watching some UFC in your boxers with that six-pack all to yourself, but you came here. Why?” Buck asks again.
Eddie sighs. He could lie; tell Buck that he didn’t have anything better to do, didn’t want to sit around in his lonesome even though that sounded like exactly what he needed after days at the station. But he couldn’t lie to Buck, not about this.
“You needed someone. I know that Maddie leaving is hard on Chimney and he has every right to be mad about it even if she has good reason, but you have every right to be mad, too. And I thought that maybe you needed someone in your corner,” Eddie admitted before adding, “and Hell, I was right.”
He brushes his thumb against the shiner on Buck’s eye and tries to ignore the way Buck leans into it, smiling softly.
“You, uh, didn’t have to do all of this,” Buck says after a few more moments of silence. Eddie pulls his hand away and shrugs, taking a large bite off of his plate.
“I know I didn’t,” he responds simply. Buck seems to bite back a smile before glancing down at his own dinner to start to eat. “Abuela wants to have you over next weekend. She told me to tell you that you have no choice,” Eddie adds.
“I guess I’m hanging with the Diazes next weekend, then,” Buck agrees with a nod. “Hey, you think she’d teach me how to make this casserole?”
“Not on your life,” Eddie says and then thinks about it for a minute. “If you tell her how you got that black eye,” Eddie scrunches his face up, “maybe.”
Buck punches him in the arm but Eddie feels the love in it.