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When Eddie gets home, he’s exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted. Carla is folding the couch back up and just takes one look at him, her face softening as she tells him, “You’re early, he’s still in bed. How about I make breakfast and you go and see him?”
“Thanks, Carla,” Eddie mumbles, toeing off his shoes and making his way down the hall to Christopher’s room.
All of the stress and tension seems to dissipate the second he lays eyes on his son, and Eddie slumps against the doorframe, his whole body feeling heavy. Chris is clearly already waking up, but Eddie walks over and climbs into bed with him anyway, trying to get as close as possible.
He wraps an arm around Christopher, presses his forehead against his temple and closes his eyes, breathing his son in, revelling in his sleep warm presence. This is his kid, who’s safe and healthy and happy, who loves him and who he loves with everything in him. He’s so lucky to have him.
“Dad?” Christopher asks, and Eddie blinks his tired eyes open.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
It’s an easy enough question, and right now, in his son’s bed, he is.
“Yeah. Just...I’m really glad you’re my kid.”
“You’re weird, Dad,” Christopher says lightly, grin wide, and Eddie laughs, cupping the side of his face.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles once they’ve stopped laughing, and Chris pats his arm.
He gives himself 10 minutes of this, 10 minutes of ignoring the rest of the world, before Christopher really needs to get up if he wants to make it to school on time.
After Carla and Chris have left and he’s closed the front door behind them, Eddie leans his forehead against the smooth wood for a minute, feeling too tired to move.
It’s weird how some of the things that happened over the past 15 or so hours are only starting to sink in now. He kept a terrible man’s heart beating to keep the promise he made to him, a man, a father, who killed himself to save his son’s life. A man who threatened Christopher, threatened Buck...and Eddie was so mad at him, but the more he learned about the motivation behind the breakout, the more he could empathize too. The degree to which he can empathize has gotten Eddie in trouble a few times before, but it’s not something he can turn off, or wants to turn off. Not when he likes that part of himself so much more than the part that takes over when he or someone he loves is in danger, the cold and calculated and controlled soldier.
There’s still a faint ringing in his ears from when the gun went off right behind him, and Eddie remembers the feeling of Mitchell’s hand on his shoulder, the look on Savanna Richards’ face when he talked to her at the hospital, the feeling of the pavement when he dropped to his knees next to Mitchell, his hands the only thing keeping his heart beating, the way Buck had looked in the back of the ambulance when he was ordered to leave Eddie behind. He’s exhausted, but his mind won’t stop playing these memories on repeat.
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment before dropping them again, blinking away the spots in his vision. Everything feels disconnected, jumbled and messy in his head, and Eddie feels unsettled. He’s longing for something but he can’t put his finger on what it is, so he just stumbles down the hall to his bedroom, struggles out of his jeans and shirt, and falls into bed.
Exhaustion drags him under quickly, but he gasps awake with Buck’s name on his lips too soon after. His heart is racing and Eddie stares up at the ceiling without blinking, not sure if he wants to remember what he dreamed or not.
He remembers the way Buck had screamed his name outside of the hospital, and how he’d been staring at him across the waiting room later, as if he was afraid what might happen the minute he took his eyes off Eddie. They haven’t talked about what happened, not the hostage situation in general, not the way Buck got hurt trying to defend Christopher, not the way they got separated and Eddie was left in the ambulance alone with a murderer, with no way to get back to Buck. With no way for Buck to get to him.
It’s just another thing on the long list of Things They Don’t Talk About.
With a groan, Eddie turns around and buries his face in his pillow. He can’t talk to Buck about any of this. He tries to avoid thinking about it all, even, because everything that happened and how he feels about it is so entangled with how he feels about Buck that he can’t even begin to separate the two. And that’s not a conversation he’s ready to have. Not while Buck is dating Taylor, and possibly not ever. It’s just too risky, there’s too much at stake. So what if he aches every time Buck leaves his house? It’s better just being his friend than not having him at all.
He manages to get a couple more hours of fitful sleep, used to pushing stuff to the back of his mind. That dark drawer in there is starting to get crowded, but Eddie refuses to think of what will happen when it spills over.
He makes himself a sandwich for lunch, turning on the radio to drown out his thoughts, and then the TV while he eats in front of it. He still feels off, and taking a shower doesn’t help. Restlessly, he walks from the bathroom all the way to the living room, then circles through the dining room and kitchen, counting his steps in his head so there’s no room for other thoughts. He knows what he’s doing isn’t healthy, knows pushing everything down, down, away, doesn’t make it disappear. He’s been down this road before, but there’s a panic attack waiting down the other road, he can feel it nearby whenever a few traitorous thoughts escape from his hidden drawer, and that doesn’t seem like a better alternative.
He’s aware of what he’s doing, aware it’s dangerous (“That could be called repression,” Dr Salazar’s voice echoes in his head and god, he didn’t even know he was doing it back then), but he doesn’t have a choice.
But no amount of pacing or counting can keep the thought of Buck from creeping back in. He can’t help but picture Buck’s fury when the hostage takers threatened Christopher, the protective way he’d taken a step forward, almost as if he was planning on taking the photo from Mitchell’s hand.
He doesn’t make a conscious decision, but suddenly he’s calling Buck, phone pressed to his ear.
“Eddie?” Buck answers after two rings. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, surprised by how worried Buck sounds. “Do you want to come with me to pick Christopher up from school?”
“Yes,” Buck says immediately, so quickly that Eddie almost regrets not asking earlier. “I’ll pick you up at your place, okay?”
There’s a noise on the other end of the line, a woman’s voice saying something. Taylor. Maybe Eddie should feel bad about stealing her boyfriend in the middle of the day, but he can’t find it in himself, not when just hearing Buck’s voice has made him feel more calm than he has since Christopher and Carla left this morning, not when Buck agreed so easily. So he just says, “Okay, see you in a bit,” and lets Buck deal with it.
Eddie spends the time waiting for Buck tidying the kitchen and pacing some more, and he still feels wired when Buck lets himself inside with his own key.
“Hey,” he says, turning around to smile at Buck from where he’s been rearranging pictures on the mantle. He doesn’t move any closer, even though it feels like his entire body is being pulled towards Buck. He resists. “That was quick.”
Buck shrugs with a sheepish smile. “Got excited, I guess.”
Eddie hums. “I should’ve just asked you to come with me this morning. Christopher would’ve loved to see you.”
“I…,” Buck starts, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
With a frown, Eddie says, “You’re never intruding, Buck, you know that.”
Buck shrugs a little, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “I’m sure you needed some family time.”
Eddie thinks that a few months ago, Buck would’ve asked to come, or he would’ve just showed up. Instead, they were silent on the ride back to the station and while they changed back into their civvies, and then went their separate ways. He’s not entirely sure what’s changed, if Buck has picked up on something since Eddie broke up with Ana, if he’s uncomfortable around Eddie now. Maybe he’s confused by the way Eddie’s keeping his distance – but then again, he never tries to close it either.
“How’s your head?” he asks instead of continuing the conversation, touching his own temple in the place where Buck got pistol whipped. He wants to stride over, take Buck’s face in his hands and get a close look at the wound, but Buck got patched up at the hospital and it would be nothing but an indulgence.
“It’s fine. They checked me over at the hospital and I don’t have a concussion or anything, it probably won’t even scar. Guess I got lucky.”
Eddie grunts. “I wouldn’t call getting held hostage at gunpoint and being assaulted with that gun lucky.”
Buck shifts, wincing a little. “Yeah, good point. But I’m all good, Eds.”
The familiar nickname makes Eddie smile, and Buck smiles back, just a small one, but it looks genuine.
“You’re driving, right?” Eddie changes the topic again and Buck’s smile widens into a grin, throwing his car keys in the air and catching them again easily.
“Of course, I’d never make you drive.” While Buck loves driving, to Eddie it’s only ever been a means to an end. So when it’s the two – or three – of them, Buck usually drives and everyone is happy.
By the time they’re pulling onto the street in Buck’s jeep, Buck still seems even more fidgety than usual, and Eddie sighs.
“Buck,” he says, “you do know you’re always welcome to come see Chris, right? Or did you forget?”
“No, I just…” Buck shoots him a nervous look before focusing on the road again. “You said you didn’t want a ready-made family. I didn’t wanna overstep.”
For a few seconds, Eddie just stares at him before he blurts out, “I didn’t mean you.”
Then he snaps his mouth shut, worried he’s giving away too much. But Buck still looks uncertain, and the only thing worse than Eddie giving himself away is Buck thinking this, so he presses on. “Buck, we didn’t…we’re not some ready-made family.”
“I know, I didn’t mean to imply–“
“No, no, I just mean…there was no ready-made anything. Everything we are, we built. You and Christopher, how much you love each other, that was built on everything that we, that you went through together, it was years in the making. I didn’t mean you, Buck.”
Buck’s fingers are white where he’s gripping the steering wheel tightly, his eyes wide and wet when they flick over at Eddie. This probably isn’t a conversation for the car, actually.
“Okay,” Buck whispers, and Eddie tries reading his expression, but Buck’s face is turned just far enough away from him to be able to get a good look.
“Okay,” Eddie repeats. “So come over whenever you want. Christopher always wants to see you.” I always want to see you.
Buck nods and even shoots Eddie a small smile before he pulls into the parking lot of Christopher’s school. “Thank you, Eddie.”
“Of course,” Eddie says quietly.
They both get out of the jeep and Buck smiles at him again, something loosening in Eddie’s chest. They’re not back to normal yet, and Eddie’s not sure how to get them there unless he learns how to get over Buck very quickly. But it still feels like he caught something fragile just before it shattered on the floor.
He keeps looking over at Buck while they cross the parking lot, and Buck seems lighter, like Eddie telling him he’s family actually helped.
Christopher exits the school doors just as they reach the pick up area, his face lighting up when he spots Buck.
“Buck!” he shouts, speeding up.
Buck’s face matches his expression, lit up like a Christmas tree, and he rushes forward to grab Chris in a hug that he gladly returns. Eddie’s eyes burn as he watches the way Buck presses his nose into Christopher’s curls and holds him for longer than necessary.
Of course Buck wanted to see Christopher just as much as Eddie did, of course he felt the same need to reassure himself that Christopher is fine.
“You’re being weird too,” Christopher mumbles against Buck’s shoulder, and Buck glances up at Eddie quickly before setting Chris back down.
“I am?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. Dad was weird this morning too.”
Buck laughs, and Eddie can’t help but join in.
“I’m just really happy to see you, buddy,” Buck says, ruffling Christopher’s hair gently. “And I’m sure your dad was, too.”
“Yeah, I was,” Eddie confirms, placing a hand on Christopher’s back and bending down to kiss the top of his head. When he straightens up again, he’s so close to Buck their elbows knock.
“Okay,” Chris says. “I’m happy to see you too, Buck.”
Buck’s face goes so soft it makes Eddie want to do something very stupid, like grab him and kiss him right here in front of Christopher’s school, so he clears his throat pointedly, lifting an eyebrow at his son.
“Glad to know who’s the favorite here.”
Christopher laughs. “You should bribe me with ice cream.”
Buck bursts out laughing and Eddie feels his own mouth twitch even as he tries to contain his grin. “That’s not how this works, buddy.”
Christopher pouts and turns to Buck. “Buck, can we get ice cream?”
“And risk your dad’s wrath? No way, we’re not doing anything he said no to.”
“Ugh, I hate when you team up,” Christopher complains, but he doesn’t actually sound upset. “But you’re staying until bedtime, right?”
“If that’s okay with you guys?” Buck meets Eddie’s eye, looking hopeful. “I don’t have any other plans.”
“Please, Dad?” Christopher looks up at him too, and Eddie looks between them both with a laugh.
“Yeah, of course Buck can stay. As long as you want.”
Christopher cheers and Buck’s smile is so relieved Eddie vows to spend more time reaffirming Buck’s place in their life. He thought Buck had finally understood when he told him about his will, but maybe Buck just views it as some sort of contingency plan? Maybe Eddie’s tactic of never mentioning things again isn’t working out so well.
As he trails behind Buck and Christopher back to the car, Eddie thinks about all the things he and Buck don’t talk about. There’s no avoiding them forever, he’s starting to realize that, but he’s just not ready yet.
He needs more time.