Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Buck’s always lived with shadows.

Since his birth, he’s been in the shadows, although he didn’t fully understand it until much later. Maddie understands more; she was eight when he was born, aware of circumstances around his birth in the first place, her grief was less suffocating than their parents’. He finds out the full story when he’s five, he’d already known about Daniel, about the big brother who’d died when he was just a baby. But, at five, he learns the fact that he was meant to save Daniel, he was supposed to stop his brother from dying.

It’s years later before he understands the guilt that instills in him.

Maddie helps make things matter; his first day of school, birthdays, Easter, Christmas, all those holidays. His parents, on the other hand, remind him at every step how important it is to be thankful he gets to do all these things, he has to remember his older brother who never got to do them himself.

Every Christmas, without fail, his mother dresses him in some variation of the same outfit; pressed slacks, a green sweater, hair combed over. When his curls start growing in, his mother goes so far as to straighten his hair so that they sit slick. He’s eight when he figures out why, hours after he was meant to go to bed, while his parents are sitting with their friends in the house, the Christmas party having slowly calmed.

“You know, if Evan didn’t have that smudge on his face, he’d be the spitting image of Daniel.” It’s a casual comment, their mother’s friend clearly not considering much beyond the similarities, but Evan’s curious.

He digs out the Christmas albums the following day, most of their photo albums are empty, ignored now, but the ones from before are kept pristine, easily accessible so that they can pull them out at a moment's notice. The house is quiet in the morning; Maddie still sleeping, their parents were never early rises, and Evan’s on the floor in the family room with the albums open, flipping through the memories from before he was born.

It’s there on the page, Christmas Day 1991, scrawled in his mother’s elegant handwriting, and a picture of a beaming five-year-old boy, short blond hair, green sweater, black pants, holding a small helicopter toy. Evan sits and stares at it for what might be hours, gazing at the face of a brother he’d never know but somehow couldn’t forget.

His mother finds him there when she comes downstairs, giving him a soft, almost affectionate look. He spends that morning at his mother’s knee, flipping through albums, her hand carding through his hair. It’s possibly the first time she’s spent a stretch of time with him, Evan sitting and listening to her talk about Daniel, stories about his life before illness, all the things Daniel loved doing. It doesn’t strike him then, and it won’t until he’s leaving the house for the last time, but all the things his mother memorializes about Daniel are all the things she doesn’t care to learn about him.

-x-

Graduation for his friends is a big event; most of them are having meals out, they’re having family parties, gifts have been given, their parents are pleased and proud and congratulatory. Evan knows that it’s not going to be like that for him. His parents are there, of course they are, sitting together, holding to one another and his mother is openly weeping. One of his friends nudges him from behind, smirking, “What, did your mom not think you’d make it to graduation?” There are a few snickers, and Evan rolls his eyes, glancing over at where his mother is dabbing her eyes delicately while clinging to a chain around her neck, one he knows she never takes off.

It’s not a big deal because they didn’t think he’d graduate, despite his carelessness, despite the juvenile pranks and reckless antics he’s pulled, he was always going to graduate. Evan is smart, he knows he is, he plays up the dumb jock thing for his friends, Maddie tells him he shouldn’t play into it -or she did, at least, before she left- but his grades have always been fairly better than average. His mother is disappointed he wasn’t Valedictorian, Daniel would’ve been Valedictorian and honestly, that’s kind of why Evan didn’t try harder in mathematics.

As expected, after he’s walked, gotten his diploma, graduated from high school, his parents are there, mom still weeping and dad all misty eyed, “Oh, Evan,” and for half a second he thinks it might actually– “If only Daniel had been able to make it to graduation.” His smile is stiff, terse, he knows better than to say anything about it, though. There’s an unspoken rule, one that he and Maddie have grown very aware of, and Evan knows he’s not about to break it in public, not without Maddie nearby for him to go to.

So he sucks it up, lets them make his graduation about Daniel, just like everything else. Naturally, there’s no party, no event, no dinner. Evan isn’t celebrated or congratulated. They have a normal family meal, mom talking about how interested in history Daniel had been, and was Evan thinking about maybe studying that in college maybe, while dad got wistful for the sports that Evan didn’t play and didn’t Evan know how good at sport Daniel had been?

There he is, newly graduated, lying in bed at ten o’clock, with the ghost of the brother he never met still more important than him.

He has no idea what he wants to do at college, he’s not overly surprised that he’s never given thought to his career path. Everything had always been about what they’d wanted for Daniel, how smart Daniel had been, what they’d expected of him and how he’d grow up. Mom was still flattening his curls, trying to hide his birthmark, it’d gotten darker as he’d gotten older and once in a while he’d hated it but more and more lately he was glad for it.

Daniel didn’t have the birthmark, Daniel’s face was unblemished, perfect, like every other part of him. It was the only thing that Evan actually had of his own. An imperfect face.

He hates that his parents have driven him to resenting his brother, how close he is to hating a kid that didn’t make it past seven, just because his parents can’t let go of a ghost.

They don’t take his decision not to go to college well, there’s an argument and he leaves in a mood. It’s not his fault they can’t let go, but it feels like they blame him somehow. Like they’d rather have Daniel than have him, all the times he’d gotten gifts over the years that he’d never asked for, Christmas presents he hadn’t put on his list. It took him too long to figure out that they were pushing Daniel’s interests onto him. Of course, by that time he’d already gotten a little interested in oceanography and marine biology, he’d liked the challenge of building things with Lego or putting together jigsaws.

They’d pushed him into a role as the son they lost, and he’d never even known until it was too late, adopting the interest himself without realizing. To please them, to get the attention, the approval. Because it always seemed that he never got the approval unless he was trying to be Daniel, unless they could link whatever he was doing back to their other son.

He crashes his bike the night after he graduates, ends up in Maddie’s ER, the other nurses dragging out his admission so that they can wait until Maddie comes down before they call his parents.

“Evan,” Maddie arrives after his x-rays, after the sling is fitted, his face is mostly cleaned, and he’s been given some painkillers. “What happened?”

“Mom and Dad want me to go to college,” it’s obviously not what she meant, looking at him with an expression that told him that, “To study history.”

“You hate history, it’s your least favorite subject, you literally said if you could burn all the library textbooks you would.” It’s not so much that he hates it, it’s just that he hates the institutionalized version of history that is taught in American schools. But Maddie has hit the nail on the head with her observation.

“But it was Daniel’s favorite.” Evan says it with enough ire that Maddie flinches, and he feels a little bad. It’s not her fault either; she at least has memories of Daniel, remembers her little brother, has something good among all the crap. “They’re just– They don’t see me. All they see is the kid they’d rather have, and are forever disappointed with what they’ve got in his place.” He’s never felt like he was doing enough, like he was enough. Everything he did was about Daniel; how Daniel would’ve done it, how Daniel would’ve loved it, how the opportunity wasn’t given to him. And every day he’s reminded that they would’ve rather Daniel never died than see him.

“Oh, Evan,” he hears the pity, the sorrow, he didn’t come here for her to feel bad about it too. Not that he’d really had an option, all things being what they were.

“I can’t stay there, Maddie, they’re going to snuff out anything of me that’s here until I’m just a clone of a brother I don’t know.” He’s not going to sit around and wait until he’s nothing but a shadow of himself. “I’m gonna leave, I’m gonna go travelling or something.” He hasn’t figured it all out, or even any of it out, just that he cannot stay at home with parents who see through him every day. “You should come too.”

“What? How– Evan, I can’t just up and leave,” There isn’t a lot of conviction in Maddie’s voice though, so he isn’t sure he believes her, “I have a job, and a husband.”

“So take a vacation, you never take time off. And– You’re always with Doug, you never come home for Christmas or New Year or birthdays,” he sees a tiny crack in Maddie’s resolve. “Can’t you just tell him you’re going away for a couple of weeks with your little brother?” The injuries to his face possibly work in his favor, making his pout a little more effective when he aims it at her. “Two weeks, we can go to New York and if you hate it, you can come back.”

“What about you?” Evan shrugs one shoulder.

“I hate here more than I could ever hate anywhere else.” If he stays in Hershey, he’s going to die.

-x-

Evan was right. He loved New York.

Even with the bittersweet loneliness as he ventured, his sister’s jeep his only possession beyond the clothes he’d shoved into a duffle bag, leaving everything else behind in his parent's house. It wasn’t a home, after all, it was a mausoleum. Daniel’s eternal tomb. He leaves Hershey with bitter words between his parents and his sister, rejection and anger bubbling in his chest until the hurt takes root and stays there a week later.

It doesn’t matter. He’s fine on his own, he’ll make do.

There isn’t a lot an eighteen-year-old with no references and a hostel for an address can do in New York, but he gets some work at a few construction sites that need extra hands; he’s a quick study, strong and charming. It’s easy to get along with people, to try on different personalities, try and figure out who Evan Buckley is without Daniel Buckley pressing down on his shoulder.

Evan Buckley is a smooth talker, he’s passionate and friendly. Evan Buckley can make friends in an empty room, charm the pants off anyone he sets his sights on. He’s smart and funny, easy to talk to, a little impulsive, but it works for him. Evan Buckley is loud and brash and a little rude but not in a mean way, he’s lovable, like a puppy, but protective, like a bear.

Evan Buckley lives his life like tomorrow will be his last day, he chooses not to have regrets, he takes risks and chases the unknown. He’s a construction worker, a ranch hand, a bartender, a bricklayer, a retail worker, a child minder, a swim instructor.

He picks up men and women, lets himself be picked up by men and women, he tries anything once and shakes off anything resembling shame about it.

Evan drives from one coast to the other, follows a girl to Peru and then stays there for six months, living on a beach with three strangers and tending bar at a little surf shack through the summer. He tries out for the SEALs and learns that he’s too emotionally driven, far too reliant on his empathy and can’t leave anyone behind, no matter the personal cost. It doesn’t feel like a bad thing, even at week nine when his instructors had such high hopes for him, making it through Hell Week just to say no, he’s not going to let them shut down all of his emotions.

Emotions drive him, they make him better, he reacts and responds because he feels things so strong. He’s twenty-five, alone in Los Angeles, an old jeep for company, three companions from Craigslist as room mates, working in a vintage cocktail bar when one of his former instructors emails him information about the Los Angeles Fire Department.

It’s helping people, it’s interacting with scared, desperate people who need someone to understand, it’s no man left behind and it’s a brotherhood that watch each other’s back.

It feels like what Evan’s been searching for since he left Hershey.

-x-

The Academy isn’t hard. It’s exhausting work, it’s demanding, it’s invigorating, but Evan doesn’t find it hard.

His instructor is less rigid than his Navy ones, shouts more but isn’t as mean, he decides he’s not calling the three Evan’s by numbers, so he becomes Buck, off the cuff and thankful for it, since one of the other Evans becomes Numbskull and Buck doesn’t want to think what Instructor Hill would’ve thought up for him if given the opportunity.

The physical stuff comes easily to him; he’s fit from his SEAL try-outs, he’s active and strong, he’s always been built broad and it works in his favor now. He takes all the extra classes he’s allowed to, doing the Search and Rescue requirements while going through the Academy isn’t normal, but it’s also not impossible.

Buck loves the ache in his muscles from a long day of working, he enjoys the burn after rope rescues or dives or climbing buildings with a full set of gear. He still works at the bar, making money to keep afloat, lets people take him home twice a week at the least. Completing his physical course early means the instructor urges him to pad things out, show that he’s not just all brawn, so Buck looks up the other optional classes, takes a course in Fire Science, gets the basics of engine mechanics, he learns the emergency protocols for almost every disaster and then memorizes the handbook afterwards.

He graduates top of the class with several extra certifications and a glowing recommendation from his instructor.

Foolishly, when he’s placed at the 118, he sends his first letter home to his parents, feeling like maybe they’d actually be proud that he’s figured himself out.

They’re not.

-x-

Settling into the 118 isn’t smooth sailing.

Buck quickly learns to keep his dick in his pants, Bobby’s fuse is short and always listen to Hen. The first loss is hard, cracks something in him just a little, even as Bobby tries to help him patch it back up. It’s Hen he turns to when he feels that first ever fizzle of shame.

“Hey, um, I have a hypothetical question for you.” He knows that he’s something of an annoyance to most of the other firefighters– he’s young, impulsive, naive. They’ve all been in the profession for five or more years at this point, not jaded or hardened, but realists. Hen, at least, is a good sounding board, doesn’t just wave him off and call him a kid.

“Shoot.” She’s peeling a tangerine at the kitchen island, pointing to the free space beside her for him to slide in and help her pick off the skin.

“Say someone went to see something, like… a counselor, right. So, they’re seeing someone in a professional manner, and at some point during that professional meeting, they sleep together, is that like… bad?” Buck makes a point of not looking up from the fruit he’s peeling, keeping his attention away from Hen’s face, even as she stops what she’s doing.

“If a counselor or therapist or psychiatrist sleeps with their patient, yes, Buck, that is very bad.” Her hand drops onto Buck’s, halting him from peeling. “Evan,” she never says his name, no one at the station uses it, he’s just Buck to them. “Did the– How hypothetical is this question?”

And the thing is, Buck feels like he should shake it off, tell Hen it was a question about a potential future hook up, that the therapist had come onto him but nothing happened and he wanted to check for later, that he was just picking her brain. But the way she’s looking at him; concern. That’s open, true, honest concern. For him. He doesn’t think anyone’s actually seen him since Maddie. Doctor Welles certainly hadn’t before she crawled into his lap and told him that she’d seen him on television.

“Not very hypothetical.” He doesn’t feel like the twenty-six-year-old he is right then, if anything he feels like he’s eighteen, sitting in a hospital, waiting for his sister to come and being crushed when her colleague shows up with a message instead.

Hen marches him to Bobby’s office, sits with him while he goes over the whole appointment, holds his hand when Bobby goes silent before calling Athena and the Fire Chief. It’s an odd sensation, this comfort, not because it’s attached to something that reminded them of someone else, but because it’s him.

Hen is comforting him because she’s sorry for him, Bobby is protective because someone did something to him, Athena is mad because someone took advantage of him.

It’s not about Daniel. For the first time ever, it’s about Evan.

-x-

He’s surprised when he hits it off with Abby the way he does, really.

Things feel complicated; after the therapist, after Devon, he has to admit that it felt nice for someone to reach out, without an agenda, just to check in on him. It felt like compassion and that was missing from his life in a huge way. When Chimney has his accident, then Bobby falls off the deep end in a major way, the tension between Bobby and Hen is almost suffocating for a while, until Bobby starts to peel off some layers, let them gradually meet him and learn more, and Buck feels like they’re being gifted something special.

He decides to lean into it, completely and fully, going to Bobby for help when he’s meant to take Abby on a date. “Your dad never taught you this?” And a lot of things spiral through his head there, as Bobby shows him in the mirror how to tie a tie.

There were a great many things that Philip Buckley taught his son; regret is potent, sacrifice is consuming, grief is suffocating. At no point in the eighteen years that Buck was living in their home had Philip taught him anything remotely useful about being a man. Because the son that Philip wanted to teach died a boy, and they never moved past that.

“He was always busy.” It’s far easier to go with absent parents than explain how Buck’s shadow had a name growing up.

When he wakes up in the hospital, after his first real date ended with his throat being cut open, he can only think about how glad he is that Bobby is his primary emergency contact.

He’d been questioned at first, why his contacts were blank, before Buck explained that his family were still in Pennsylvania, and putting them down would be pointless because of the time difference and that they were on the other coast. He’d been convinced that he had to put his next of kin down somewhere, since they technically had Power of Attorney, but he could put Bobby down as his primary. 

It made the most sense, really. If Buck was badly hurt, the likelihood of it being on the job was high, so Bobby would either be there or need to know, keeping him updated and informed was just sensible. The fact that Buck had thought about moving his POA to Bobby shortly afterwards wasn’t a panic induced spiral, it was common sense, his Captain would be able to make those decisions faster, more informed, less emotional.

In the end, learning about Bobby’s family, he couldn’t do it, put that weight on Bobby’s shoulders.

He’s regretting that just a little, since although the hospital called Bobby first and got a hold of him, they still had to inform his next of kin that he’d been in the hospital at all.

The call comes in when he’s on shift, the shift after the full moon, his second one back after his emergency tracheostomy, a week previous. Dinner has just ended in the station and Buck’s phone lights up. He’s assuming it’s Abby, her shift was due to end soon and maybe she finished up early. But when he looks down at the contact information, the soft smile slips off his face, clearly not missed by his coworkers.

“Buck?” Hen is far more openly concerned with him, always asking, always checking in. Especially after the therapist. “You okay?” He just nods, takes a steadying breath and answers the call, pushing his chair back as he does.

“Hi Mom.” Surprise and realization dawn on most faces as Buck shuffles to the other side of the loft, the semblance of privacy little more than an illusion at this stage. “This is a surprise.” He heard from them once when he started at the 118, after he sent them a letter to tell them what he was doing, where he was, that he was still alive in case they were wondering. They’d been furious that he was being so cavalier with his life, after all Daniel didn’t have the luxury of what he had, why was he being so selfish?

“Well, Evan,” the tone is already scolding, it’s the only way his mother says his name anymore; disappointed, frustrated, exasperated. It’s never pleased or affectionate, never in a positive light. “It was a surprised to be informed that our son had almost died,” it took them a week to call him though, “Your father and I were thinking of flying out, but air fare is ridiculous to Los Angeles,” He’s struck then with confusion. Why? Why would they suddenly want to be there? They’d stopped caring about his hospital visits long before he left Hershey. “And Daniel’s birthday is just so hard for us.”

At least now he remembers why it took them a week to call him. His parent's constant performance, consumed with grief until late February, unable to cope with anything happening around them or pay attention to their other two children, was pretty much why Buck hated Valentine’s anyway.

“I shudder to think how hard it would’ve been, to see you there, in that bed,” Buck can’t even form a sentence because– “After going through it all with Daniel.” There it is. Buck rolls his eyes, he thinks he rolls his whole face, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop himself hanging up on her.

“It’s fine, mom. I was only in the hospital for two days, once they were sure my airway was clear I was discharged. I’m already back at work.” He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the moment it leaves his mouth.

“When are you going to stop this silly crusade, Evan. It’s far too dangerous,” his shoulders slump, he’s so close to committing the cardinal sin again, just to get himself out of the fire station, just to get off the phone. He’ll take the punishment, he’ll let them all hate him for it, he will say the q-word to get the hell out of this conversation. “It’s so reckless and irresponsible, you owe it to Daniel not to put yourself in harms way.” Maybe he could impale himself on the end of the Halligan, maybe just jump over the loft, the likelihood of him being off work is literally all that’s stopping him. “Daniel would’ve never put us through this stress, Evan.”

“Okay, mom, I have to go,” or he’ll lob his phone past the trucks, “it’s been so nice talking to you, bye.” He doesn’t wait for the guilt trip, ending the call and certain that his rudeness will at least stop her from calling back to tell him he’s ungrateful for the life he got to live that his dead brother didn’t.

He has to take a moment, pressing his forehead to the cool metal of the banister and taking deep breaths. 

“You know,” Bobby’s the only one still upstairs, every one else being suspiciously absent, “in the past six and a half months you haven’t mentioned anything about your family, and now that’s twice within a week that something has come up.” He thinks back to telling Bobby about his dad not being around, the implication now that he’s not close with his mom.

Bobby won’t pry, it’d be highly hypocritical of him to do that, but Buck knows he’s not asking to be nosy.

“I wasn’t the son they wanted.” And it’s very close to the full truth right there, but for the first time in his life, Buck isn’t in Daniel’s shadow, so he can’t bring himself to fully explain it all. “Nothing was ever good enough, nothing will ever be good enough,” because he can’t compete with the memory of the perfect son who never got old enough to do anything wrong, “and they’re very good at reminding me of that.”

Bobby’s hand is strong and warm on his shoulder, gripping tightly and firm. It’s grounding, enough to push those doubts down again. He has something here, something that he built himself; Hen and Chim treat him like the idiotic little brother they love to tease, Sanchez treats him like a little apprentice, letting him ask endless questions about mechanics and engine maintenance, Bailey mothers him constantly, bringing up his housing situation anytime she sees a listing for an apartment online. Bobby is still thawing, Buck knows that, but he can see the starts of it, the concern that isn’t just professional, the advice, the care. Bobby’s starting to let them in and Buck isn’t sure what that might look like in the coming days, but it’s already more promising than his complicated family history.

-x-

Things settle, somewhat. He wouldn’t call them easy, but time passes in a manner that isn’t jarring or traumatic for the most part.

It’s only after he’s spent a week in Abby’s apartment without her, catching the occasional texts as she tours Ireland, that Buck realizes his probationary period is ending soon. He’s not sure about parties and the like, he’s pretty sure that it’s a lot like a high school graduation too, but it’s not like Buck has all that many people to invite.

Less, with Abby out of the country. It’s not like he can ask her to come back for his graduation, it’s a long flight, it’s expensive, it’s expecting too much right now.

Bobby calls him upstairs mid-chores a few shifts later, Chim and Hen already up there. “Your probationary period is up next week.” It’s the only opening he’s offered, standing between Hen and Chim at the kitchen island, Bobby cooking something for lunch. They’re waiting for him to say something, but he’s not exactly sure what they’re expecting.

“Almost thought we wouldn’t make it here,” it’s punctuated with a pop of Chim’s gum, a gentle tease, Buck understands, but it’s not exactly untrue. He’d had a rocky start, the first few months weren’t ideal and although he’s settled into his growing maturity and his dedication to the job, it was a hard fought battle for most of them.

“Usually,” Bobby interjects with a scolding look at Chimney, “when a firefighter is given their shield, we’ll have a celebration, clear out some space in the bay, set up some tables and food. Invite family and friends.” There’s something in the way that Bobby says that part that has Buck fiddling with his fingers on the counter.

Technically, he has a week's notice, he could call his parents, invite them out. He could try to reach Maddie again, tell her that she can bring Doug if she really wants to, even if he’d rather the man never attended anything that put him within Buck’s line of sight. Even if his small, broken, distant family wouldn’t fill out the bay, it’d maybe show them that look, he’s not a tragic failure, a hollow shell, a broken shadow.

“Um,” except he doesn’t want to invite them. He’d love nothing more than to show Maddie that he’d done it, he’d put his mind to something, he’s finally found where he belongs. But there’s so much pain wrapped up in that, in her and Doug and explanations, he’s not sure if he could stomach having to deal with his brother-in-law at his graduation, deal with the snide remarks about being a public servant and Buck using his brawn because he has no brains. “I don’t really think that’s necessary.”

He doesn’t want another one of his accomplishments to turn into Daniel’s loss, for his mother to sit in front of him and weep openly and loudly because her preferred son wasn’t there while he felt his own achievement diminish right in his grasp.

“Oh, come on, Buck. This is a big deal, even if you weren’t almost fired twice.” Buck ignores the mild sting, Hen charging on, “You deserve a party to celebrate this.” And it’s true, he does. He knows he does. He should celebrate this occasion.

In an ideal world his sister would be there, cheering him on, his parents would sit there, proud and beaming. He’d have his girlfriend to kiss his cheek and tell him well done, and his friends to pat him on the back because Buck finally didn’t fuck something up.

But this isn’t an ideal world. He hasn’t heard from Maddie in three years, postcards and letters all unanswered, phone calls never returned. His parents still mention Daniel more times than Buck can count whenever he does talk to them. His girlfriend is in Ireland, or maybe she’s in Wales now, he’s not entirely sure right then.

“Well, you guys will all presumably be on shift anyway, so… Guest list is gonna be kind of short.” Maybe they can pick up on it, maybe Bobby’s mentioned his tension with his parents, maybe Chim and Hen actually can read between the lines. They drop it, for now at least, even if Buck feels the weight of their gaze most of the day. He’s sure that Hen wants to pull him away and ask questions, that Chim wants to poke at him about friends outside the station, that Bobby probably wants to broach that discussion about his parents again.

They don’t, though, leaving it to lie and no one corners him with an intervention on the sad state of his life when he’s barely twenty-six and supposed to be in his prime.

He’s just praying they don’t go over his head and throw a surprise party. It’s probably rude to walk out of your own surprise party.

-x-

Chapter Text

“Hey, Bobby, can I um,” it’s a month since his graduation, Bobby, Hen and Chim just had a small meal with him, he got his shield and Bobby confirmed he was welcome to stay at the 118 as a full firefighter. He’s largely grateful for how things worked out; Bobby giving him that second chance, Hen taking him under her wing, even Chim’s gentle teasing is kind of nice in a way. He’s a little worried about using the ‘F’ word with them, but it feels like what other people had, all his friends from school and the cousins he stopped seeing because his Aunt couldn’t deal with her sister’s constant grief.

“C’mon in, kid, what’s up?” Bobby is rarely in his office, unless he’s sorting out the rotations and any overtime or vacation time that’s being used. Which is why Buck chose that moment to talk to him.

“Do you remember that blood drive that Chim set up after he came back?” He’s pretty sure that Bobby does, given the whole mess that happened after that, but he wants to check rather than just launch in. At the subtle nod from Bobby, Buck continues, “I, um, I signed up for bone marrow donation after that,” he’s not mentioning that they noticed he was registered in Pennsylvania, that they asked if he’d share his information with the California registry, he doesn’t want to explain that right now, “and I got a call the other day there.” It was this morning, but he’s pretending that he’s put some thought into this and isn’t just reacting to things.

“Buck, that’s–” Bobby is clearly surprised, but not in a bad way from what Buck can gather. He’s started to learn the difference between Bobby’s expressions, and this one is somewhere between impressed and proud. “That’s very noble of you.” Buck just shrugs, unsure if that’s what he’d call it with all the facts.

“I guess,” it’ll come up some day, he’s sure, but for now, “Anyway, there’s a kid I match in San Diego, they asked if I was willing, and I said yes.” He knows how much of this is tied up with his lingering guilt over Daniel and the feelings associated. But if he can do something to stop another family going through what his did, if he can save someone else’s brother or sister, stop a mom from losing their child, he’s not going to say no.

“Okay,” Bobby laces his fingers together, expression pensive, “what do you need?” There’s no ‘are you sure’ or ‘is this best’, just acceptance, and Buck feels his shoulders sag in relief.

“I need a week. The operation isn’t that invasive, but the recovery is a bit painful, they say. So it’s better not to over exert anything.” They’re going back in through his hip, and while Buck doesn’t remember his first donation, if a doctor was prepared to do it on an infant, he’s sure it’ll be fine for him to handle as an adult. He had his throat cut open, he can handle a bone marrow donation.

Bobby shuffles things so that they can do it at the earliest appointment. Buck has one night in the hospital following the extraction so that they can monitor him and as he’s lying there with the ache in his side and the pain medication just taking away the edge he flicks through his contacts until he finds his sister and texts her.

He doesn’t expect anything, there’s a string of unanswered messages above the one he writes, but it feels like she’s the only person who might understand what this is.

I donated bone marrow today to a kid in SD that’s got juvenile leukemia. He’s five. I didn’t even think twice about it. All I could think was ‘it’s like Daniel’ and I wanted to help. He’s got a family and parents who love him and probably a sibling that needs him. And now I’m just wondering what if I’d worked for Daniel. Things would’ve been different, right? Is it bad that I still kind of hate him a little? I mean, I think I hate myself a little more, but it’s messed up to hate a dead kid. I miss you. Hospitals suck. You think they’ll tell me if he makes it?

He’s back at work the following week, only Bobby knowing why he was off, letting him take a day on light duty to make sure he’s not pulling anything while it heals. Then he’s back to scaling buildings and climbing through wrecked busses, and nothing is different.

The day that Bobby introduces them to Eddie Diaz is the same day that Buck gets an email from San Diego, the oncologists that were working on the kid (Ray) he donated to sending him the notification that all was looking well. They’d done the procedure the same week he donated, almost a month and a half ago, initial tests were looking promising and the family were asking if they can send him something.

It’s largely autopilot that he runs on for the day, but something feels heavy in his chest.

He managed to help one kid, help to save them from the same thing that killed Daniel, but the kid that he was born to save still died. How was that fair? Buck gets stuck in his head going over it; Ray’s parents didn’t have another kid to try and save him, they just hoped and prayed a stranger could help, Ray’s siblings won’t grow up with a hole in the family that won’t heal and will just consume every one, like a collapsing star sucking everything around it into oblivion.

Daniel never got that chance, he was never afforded the opportunity to live his life, a life his parents had planned for him before he ever got sick. Daniel got a defective little brother who couldn’t do the one thing he needed to do and then everyone suffered. Buck was meant to save Daniel, that was Evan’s purpose. He was made especially for that, just for Daniel, just to save him.

He supposes it’s fair that his parents never really saw him, never took the time to figure out who Evan was. They probably already knew; a failure. That’s what Evan was to them. Parts that didn’t work and that they had to keep around, dealing with the constant reminder that their son died because Evan couldn’t do one thing.

So, he’s a dick to the new guy, wrapped up in his own head and unable to properly concentrate on anything. Bobby’s giving him a few looks, but Buck’s too consumed to really pay it that much mind. He’ll deal with it next shift, after he’s gotten through the bullshit of his own inadequacies.

What he doesn’t expect is to come home to his sister in Abby’s shower.

It takes a little while to get past the surprise, catch up a bit, go over the why and how and where. They’re settling into the couch in the living room, Buck still a little apprehensive about his sister’s presence, even as she sits and sips some wine, picking at the food he made, before she brings it up.

“So, you donated marrow?” There are a lot of things he wants to follow that up with; like how she clearly got all his text messages, never responded, left him feeling like he was just screaming into the void. He kind of understands the lack of response to his postcards, it’s a little more to reply to one of those, until he hit LA he didn’t exactly have an address to send things to anyway. But she could’ve replied to his texts, instead of just leaving them unanswered, leaving him unmoored for three years with nothing to hold to.

“Yeah,” but he doesn’t want to start an argument, doesn’t want her to decide to leave, “a month or so ago,” there’s a small mark where the incision was, similar to the very faded one from when he was a baby, enough that they’ll both fade even more as time passes and he’ll likely forget about them. “It sounds like the kid is doing pretty well.” He’d sent back a reply earlier, letting them know that he’d be glad to receive anything the family wanted to send, just grateful that it looked like Ray was going to recover well and that he could’ve helped.

“I didn’t realize that you– I mean, donating to strangers is very selfless of you.” He’s not sure what she was going to say, what she cut off, but he just nods.

Buck knows better than to mention how he feels about Daniel, beyond the text message when he was feeling down, beyond what he’d said before he left Hershey, he knows it’s hard for Maddie. She still holds part of Daniel in her heart, isn’t tainted by their parents, none of Buck’s memories are his own though.

He gets them onto a different topic though; they avoid mom and dad, don’t mention Doug again, steer clear of Daniel as always, before Buck needs to bow out. He has a shift tomorrow, needs to sleep, be better prepared to deal with Eddie Diaz without snapping at the man.

It’s easier the second shift with Diaz, Bobby is cautious but Buck can tell he’s letting them sort it themselves, Buck doing what he can to not be an asshole. After the ambulance, after pulling a live grenade out of a man's leg, they settle in the locker room, decompressing from the adrenaline rush before changing to go home.

“I’m sorry,” Buck’s watching his feet, not looking over at Eddie when he says it, “about yesterday, I mean.” It’s probably stressful enough for the Texan to move states and start a new career after being in the military, he doesn’t need Buck’s attitude too.

“Hey, no worries. I’d get it if some upstart swooped in and–” Buck shakes his head, scuffing his feet a little, “Oh, so it wasn’t a dick measuring contest? You weren’t feeling threatened by my presence?” There was maybe a degree of that, Buck thinks, but he knows if it had just been that he would’ve been more teasingly competitive than an all out dick.

“Somewhat, maybe but… Mostly just me in my head. Shit came up yesterday that–” he never talked about Daniel, or his family, he hadn’t even told the team about his sister. They knew he was estranged from his parents, to an extent, but they didn’t know anything else beyond that. “It’s just family shit.”

“Now that I understand.” Eddie knocks his shoulder into Buck’s, shooting him a small smirk, “Bygones, man. Let’s just move forward, yeah?” It’s the best that Buck can really hope for, and he’s thankful that Eddie doesn’t seem to want to hold it all against him or make him work for forgiveness.

He still figures he’ll find a way or two for him to make it up to the guy.

-x-

They make it through an earthquake, possibly Eddie’s first, scaling down a skyscraper hotel as it crumbles beneath them. Buck’s oddly grateful that he doesn’t know Hen is in trouble until both he and Eddie are out and they can help, aware that he’d panic about her being under all this carnage if he’d been aware. But they get to the garage level in time to help Chim and Bobby, bringing back up because screw the evacuation order, they had people in there.

Driving Eddie to pick up his kid afterwards, listening to the little guy ask a bunch of questions, Eddie trying to answer what he could, Buck is struck by how open and free Eddie is around his kid.

It reminds him then of how little he had this; his father rarely paid attention to him, he walked home from soccer practice, he never got to go on school trips. There was no parental involvement in his school projects beyond being told how much they wished they had more of Daniel’s kindergarten artwork to display.

Nothing of Buck’s even made it on the fridge.

The easy swell of affection for Eddie’s bright, chatty kid makes Buck question just how much of his parents’ abandonment was grief and how much was just their inability to love him. Maddie liked to say they weren’t bad people, they just checked out after Daniel, but Buck could tell she felt just the same abandonment as he did, maybe not to her very core like him, but she wasn’t made to save Daniel, so maybe that’s just his own flawed existence.

Christopher asks if he’ll see Buck again, seemingly genuinely wanting to, and Buck finds it so easy to promise to show up at the house early tomorrow, since Eddie’s truck is still pinned at work and Buck drove him home.

“Buck, you don’t have to–” He’s quick to wave Eddie off, can see the guy already planning to mention a family member or friend he can ask for help. Like Buck isn’t readily offering it.

“I got it man,” Buck grins at Chris, a megawatt smile shot back from an eager seven-year-old. “Got your back, remember?” He sees Eddie’s shoulders sag, relief written clear on his face and yeah, Buck figures this is the easiest way to make sure Eddie knows he’s serious about that.

It’s not even remotely a hardship.

-x-

Shannon is a surprise.

Sitting with Eddie at the Grove, watching Chris make his way towards Santa, Buck is a little stunned by Eddie’s revelations about Shannon and their situation. He’s trying to be understanding, for both sides; he gets that Eddie feels guilty about running when Chris was born, he understands why Eddie struggles to hold it against Shannon when she did it. The pair of them were young and scared and uncertain when they were presented with a life changing responsibility, and Buck’s gradually learned that while Eddie’s parents are definitely not the best, they do still care.

Maybe a bit too much.

“I’m fighting with myself to let her into his life,” because Eddie’s already accepted Shannon back into his bed, but Buck knows that Eddie trusting Shannon with his body isn’t the same as trusting her with their son’s heart. “And she’s right, she is. I left, and she accepted me back when I was discharged. I missed so much of his life,” formative years, hard years, ones where Shannon didn’t have a partner, where Chris didn’t have his dad. Buck understands that Eddie was doing it to provide for his family, but he was also a scared kid running from responsibilities. Even then, he ran to the Army, where he helped people, protected innocent lives, at the risk of his own. Buck doesn’t know if he could claim he’d have done the same in Eddie’s position. “And she’s trying, she’s here, that counts, right?”

He’s still not sure how he ended up in this position, as Eddie’s sounding board, offering his best friend advice on parenting, when Buck hasn’t the first clue about good parenting. At least not unless you counted watching Hen from a distance or listening in when Bobby and Athena talked about stuff.

“I mean, he’s your kid.” Buck doesn’t want to tell Eddie to do something and then it gets fucked up. “You know him better than anyone, you know what’s best for him,” Eddie’s the best dad that Buck’s ever seen; he never raises his voice, never makes Chris feel stupid or like he’s a burden, never makes Chris feel like he can’t do anything, he celebrates every single one of Chris’ accomplishments for exactly what they are. “Trust yourself, Eds. You know how to do this.”

The picture message comes through on Christmas morning, Chris hugging his mom with a bright, happy grin, almost splitting his face with glee. Eddie bows out of joining them at Athena’s for Christmas dinner, having the afternoon as a family then spending the evening with Abuela and Tia Pepa. Buck tries to not let it make him antsy, tries not to worry that this is the first of many get together’s that the Diaz boys will be absent from.

It’s just because Shannon’s back, that Chris and her need time to bond again, soon she’ll be part of the group too and it’ll be the Diaz boys and lady. That’ll be enough.

Buck’s used to just taking what’s left over.

-x-

For all the injuries that Buck’s sustained in life, he’s never really put much thought into being blown up.

It takes him a shockingly long time to realize what’s happened; one moment he’s in the truck with Michaels, Trevino and Sanchez, the next he’s on the street, his entire body almost screaming at him. His skull feels like it’s trying to come away from his body, lancing pain slicing from his head down his spine and something tells Buck not to move, that’s not a good sign. He wants to twist around, look down at his leg, but his back is aching, maybe from the impact, although there’s the chance it could be something more. His left leg won’t move, his right responds, albeit he’s stiff, slow and sluggish, his left leg though, that is pure, fiery agony pulsing up from his ankle.

There’s blood on his face, tacky and wet, blurring his vision. There are footsteps, a scuff on the road, Buck can’t really follow anything, his awareness bleeding around the edges as he tries to rationalize what’s happening, something blew up the truck, and he’s battling to figure out how, why and what to do.

Where are the others? Why isn’t anyone helping? Did they get hit too? 

Feet come into view, battered tennis shoes, dark pants and– Buck doesn’t recognize the kid standing over him, but he is aware that it’s a kid, a teenager at best. There’s a numbness seeping through Buck’s extremities, he knows it’s not good, losing feeling in his limbs signals shock, if he goes into shock his blood pressure is going to plummet, he’s already sure his body temperature is dangerously cool.

“You’re new.” He’s not sure what that means, can’t track the kids movements, isn’t conscious enough to figure out what this is. Bobby’s there, how is Bobby there? And still, there’s no one coming to help. Buck whines against the gravel, lowering his head to let the cool of the ground soak into his body, eyes drooping, he’s just so tired.

“Hey Buck,” hands, hands are on him, Hen at his side, Eddie to his other, Chimney’s there too. “How’re we doing?”

“Kind’a numb.” It’s hard enough to get the words out, his mouth feels like his gums are swollen, his tongue is too heavy, his lips are stuck together. He hears the murmurs of everyone around him, feels Eddie’s hand squeeze his, whispers of encouragement to hold on a little longer.

Then there’s pain. Constant, throbbing, shooting through his body and Buck can’t stop himself from screaming; tears stream down his face, his ankle is burning, it’s the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life. He’s still stuck, the pain is all he can concentrate on, even as Eddie’s fingers thread through his hair, petting lightly, as Hen coos softly at him, all Buck can focus on is the horrific pain that’s digging its way into his bones.

Something scrapes on the ground, then there’s the stampede of feet, bystanders rushing forward, swarming around the truck, and Buck could cry from gratitude if he wasn’t already crying from pain. It’s a drag over the ground, Buck pulled from under the truck and moved to the backboard, his leg throbbing and useless, dragging behind him. The whimpers are breaking out without control, Buck’s body shaking from the stress. He’s in so much pain he really wants to pass out, but he knows how dangerous that is, Hen talking to him softly, trying to encourage him to stay with them.

He doesn’t make it to the ambulance though, the gentle rocking of the gurney, Hen by his head, Eddie gripping his hand, Buck lets the darkness take him, comforted by the notion that his team have him.

It’s going to be okay.

-x-

It’s a slow, gentle journey into consciousness, the haze of drugs something Buck isn’t unfamiliar with. His limbs feel heavy, his head a dull throb, and gradually, he remembers what happened and startles. The truck, the bomb, the kid, his leg.

His leg, which is wrapped in plaster cast from the thigh down to his toes, propped up and thankfully still fully attached. It loosened a degree of the fear in his chest, but it certainly didn’t quell it all. Crush injuries were complicated at best, there’s never a certainty, Buck knows that from when he’d almost done it to his arm, although that had thankfully just been a break.

“Hey,” the door to his room slides open, Maddie slipping inside and closing it behind her, “you’re awake,” although he didn’t know how alert he was, how with it he felt. “How are you feeling?” Maddie’s fingers stroked through his hair, tugging his curls lightly, as Buck leaned into the soothing touch.

“Sore, tired, a little foggy.” Mostly the drugs, he’s sure, maybe also the concussion he knows he most definitely happened. “What’s the damage?” He needs to know if they salvaged his leg fully, if he’s going to walk, be able to train again, resume firefighting. 

“You have a serious concussion, they’re putting you between grade two and three, but now that you’re awake they’ll be able to reassess that. You have a laceration to the head, that’s been stitched up, you’ve bruised your ribs and chest from impact, and–” She glances at his leg, Buck feeling the trepidation growing, “You were in surgery for seven hours,” that’s a long time, “the doctor is exceptionally hopeful, but he can’t promise anything. You will walk again, but–” But he might not be able to be a firefighter? “It’s early days, Buck, you just got out of surgery a few hours ago, give yourself some time to heal and rest, and we’ll deal with the future later.”

He knows she just wants him to be okay, it’s a miracle his leg is still attached as it is; the blood flow was probably cut off for longer than was safe, his bones were probably smashed like corn flakes, it should be enough that a doctor even tried to put him back together.

“You should also know,” God, what? Who got hurt, what happened? “Mom and Dad are here.”

“What?” Buck is sure he’s misheard her, his parents, their parents, flew to Los Angeles, overnight because he was crushed by a fire truck? What does that even mean? “Are you– I mean, are you sure they are? They didn’t just say they were, and then they’ll call and say ‘well, actually we thought about it and no, thanks’?” Because that’s happened more than once. “How do they even know I’m here?”

Maddie wouldn’t have called them unless he was dying, and even then, Buck doubts they’d come.

It would remind them too much of losing Daniel, never mind their other son dying, they’d just be too caught up in the memory of Daniel. That’s all they were ever bothered with.

“The hospital made an error, saw them listed as your parents, and called. Last night was hectic, I think– I think they just thought they were doing what any normal parent would want them to do.” He guesses that’s fair; parents like Bobby and Athena, they’d want to be there if their kid was in the hospital. Nothing would hold Karen or Hen back from being with Denny, Eddie would move mountains to be by Christopher’s side.

“Can’t you just call them? Tell them I’m fine, they shouldn’t come.” Maddie gives him a look at the statement, he’s not fine, he knows that, but he’s fine enough that his parents don’t need to be there. He almost wishes it was February again, that they were so traumatized over Daniel’s birthday that they couldn’t even pick up the phone.

“I only found out they were coming because they called from the airplane. Like, they were on the plane before it left Philly.” His parents drove to Philadelphia to get a plane to Los Angeles because a hospital called them? Buck can’t shift the frown on his face, the ache in his leg is somewhat distracting him, he’s still feeling the effects of whatever drugs were used during his operation, and he’s confused. They don’t care, why are they pretending they care?

He knows it’s probably over blown, but he’s drugged and hurting and fucking fragile, as he leans back into the pillows, staring at the bright hospital ceiling and trying not to cry. He’s almost tempted to ask the nurses not to let them in, to tell the hospital staff that he doesn’t want to see them, to only let Maddie in. But he knows they’d cause a scene, and he doesn’t want that.

“Hey,” Maddie’s phone vibrates, “Bobby and Athena are in the waiting room, you okay to see them?” He nods his assent, figuring at least this way he’ll have spoken to someone who actually gives a damn about him before his mother and father show up, pretending they’re suddenly concerned about him, when the last twenty-six years have demonstrated that no, actually, they don’t.

Athena comes in with flowers, vibrant and happy, placing them on the window ledge before she’s crossing to his side, pressing a kiss to his forehead, above the white gauze that’s covering his cut. “I am so glad you are doing okay, baby.” Her hand threads into his hair, much like Maddie’s had, and Buck melts into it. “Scared the living crap out of all of us. But oh, I’m just so happy you’re okay.” Buck’s not sure how okay he is yet, there’s still not been any word on his leg, if it’s going to be possible for him to return to work, how long he’s going to be laid up. Athena’s not worried about that though, to Athena, the fact that he’s alive and still whole is enough.

So Buck soaks that up, the concern and care, gratified that this isn’t for show.

“Freddie is in custody,” the kid with the bomb, “and the others are going to make full recoveries too.” Bobby squeezes his shoulder, settling in the seat beside his bed, “Trevino broke his elbow when you were all thrown from the truck, and Sanchez has a pretty bad concussion, but it’s a lot of minor breaks and bumps.” They’ll all likely be back at work long before Buck is.

“Good, that’s good. I’m glad.” But if Buck’s taken the brunt of it, that’s okay.

There’s a knock at the door, Maddie stepping in with the rest of the team; Karen coming in with Hen, looking so soft and concerned, Chim holding tightly to Maddie’s hand, presumably because he’s been supporting her through the night, Carla beside Eddie and Buck feels the rush of emotions again, still floaty and vulnerable.

“You didn’t all have to come down.” He appreciates it, he really does, but as they all squish into his hospital room, smiling at him and looking grateful he’s not just a smear on the street, Buck feels the flood of too much emotion.

He’s told off, of course, Karen more than anyone else telling him how they wouldn’t be anywhere else, even though there’s no space and there aren’t seats for everyone. Maddie perches on the bed by his good foot, Athena moving around to lean on Bobby’s side, taking Buck’s hand instead of stroking his hair, letting Carla in at his other side and Eddie right beside her.

For a while, it doesn’t feel like he’s laid up in a hospital bed; conversation is easy, no one lingers on the cast around his leg, Bobby lightly teases Chimney about everyone going to him for advice on how to deal with Captain Han. It’s easy, Buck doesn’t feel like a burden or nuisance because he’s injured.

Of course, it’s shattered in an instant.

“What do you mean I can’t go in? That’s my son.” The shrill noise carries down the hall, Buck tensing instantly, eyes darting to Maddie. When had they arrived? If Maddie got the call last night, they probably should’ve arrived very early this morning. A glance at the clock in the room tells Buck it’s already creeping into the afternoon, so…

His parents have been in Los Angeles for several hours and are just now arriving at the hospital?

“Excuse me,” a nurse pokes her head into the room, giving Maddie an apologetic look, “we need to lower the capacity now, and… your parents are here?” It makes sense that Maddie managed to sweet talk a fellow nurse into letting him have eight people in his room, six more than he should’ve had. He wants to tell them no, wants to say to the nurse that he doesn’t want to see them.

But there would be so many questions.

He barely hears as Hen and Karen say goodbye, Carla slipping out with them, Eddie lingering slowly before leaving. There’s the chance that he might hyperventilate, he’s glad he’s not hooked up to a heart monitor right now, that would’ve given the game away instantly. He just needs to get control, calm down. They won’t stay long, long enough to fuss about how inconvenient this is, how hard for them it’s been, long enough for Buck to wade through the oppressive understanding that his parents are still resentful that he couldn’t do his job as a baby, and they wish his brother was alive instead of him.

“Buck, sweetie,” Athena grips his hand tightly between hers, thumb stroking over his knuckles in a gentle, soothing gesture, and Buck feels his breathing regulate, his heart calm down. Maddie’s lingering in the doorway, Bobby and Athena haven’t moved. “Do you want Bobby and me to stay?” There’s a fierceness to her tone, a determination in her gaze, and a chance look at Bobby shows the same thing.

“Please?” It might be stupid, it probably is. He’s a grown man, twenty-seven-years old, and these are his parents. But the mere notion of being left in a room with them right now is enough to almost trigger a panic attack.

Athena’s grip tightens, Bobby’s expression hardening, but Buck already knows that’s not directed at him. Bobby has a degree of understanding, an awareness at least, that things aren’t easy between him and his parents. Maddie gives one nod as she slips from the room, Athena never once letting go of Buck’s hand, not even as his parents step into the doorway, looking as effortlessly put together as they always do and just staring through him.

“Hey Mom, Dad.” He’s almost wishing he hadn’t woken up.

-x-

Chapter Text

There’s an awkward tension in the room; his parents lingering in the doorway, Dad behind Mom, like he’s bracing her from running, Athena standing by his side, still holding his hand in both of hers, Bobby right next to her, his arm around her waist, more like a show of solidarity than what his parents look like right then.

“Evan,” it’s a close thing, but Buck manages not to cringe at the way she says his name, shuffling himself up the bed as much as his wrapped leg will let him, “and you are?” She hasn’t even asked him if he’s okay, Buck sighing as his parents stepped into the room, already more focused on Athena and Bobby than on him.

“Captain Robert Nash,” Bobby extended his hand towards them, stretching over Buck’s bed, Dad gripping it with a firm shake as Mom just nodded, “and this is my fiancé, Sergeant Athena Grant.” Buck’s never actually heard Bobby being so formal, the way he’s introducing himself and Athena a little more serious than usual.

Honestly, Buck can’t remember Bobby ever going by Robert.

“Captain and… Isn’t it very clear what happened? Does Evan really need to give a statement just now?” Buck’s frowning a little before–

“Oh, no. Dad, he’s my fire Captain, Athena’s a cop, but Bob– Captain Nash is my boss.” Although it was meant to clear things up, it seemed to just confuse his parents more, not that they said anything, simply glancing at one another. “You guys didn’t need to fly out here.” He wants to be sure they know that, figure out why they did, and he knows they won’t be honest in front of Athena and Bobby, but at least Buck can broach it openly.

“Of course we did,” Mom starts fussing with his blanket, straightening it out, brushing nothing off his pillow, smoothing down the blanket before stopping as she approached his propped up and casted leg. “It looked awful, Evan, all the news stations were showing the footage.” Buck can feel himself deflate.

If it had made national news, and how fucked up was that, then his parents were only there to save face with any of their friends who might’ve recognized him.

“You about gave your mother a heart attack,” Dad’s hand rested on Mom’s shoulder, squeezing lightly, “seeing you pinned under that truck, bloody face,” he’s already bracing, preparing for the blow, and maybe he shouldn’t have asked Bobby and Athena to stay because– “Looked so much like Daniel your mother almost fainted.”

He can see the confusion on Bobby and Athena’s faces, feel the ache building in his chest, the sting behind his eyes. They still haven’t asked how he is, haven’t bothered to check what the status of his leg is, how he’s doing, what the doctors said. But of course Daniel has already come up, he’s been scolded for worrying them, putting them in a position and Daniel has once again been the focus.

Never mind the fact that Daniel hadn’t ever had a bloody face, from what Buck knows. Sure, he would’ve been wane and pale and bruised, but bleeding from the head? Unlikely, given how damn precious he was. And Buck knows he has a certain boyish charm at times, but he most certainly no longer looks like a seven-year-old, even in pain and from a distance.

“Sorry,” what else is there to say? It’s not like he can call them out, that’d be his fault too. “Did you see Maddie? I think she’s in the lobby.” He hopes they take the out, that they’ve appeased whatever need they had to fly across the country for all of three seconds pretending they cared about him, secured their image as devoted parents, they can leave whenever they want now.

“Oh, that’s right,” Mom is already more interested in whatever she’s just thought of, “Sandra Teller had mentioned how that waste of space husband of your sisters was in the news,” Buck doesn’t bother reminding them that Doug was dead, that Maddie had fought him off, they’d just talk over him, “we should speak to her about that.” She’s patting Dad on the chest, both of them already turning away.

“You rest up, son.” Dad pats his arm, trailing after mom with a nod at Bobby and Athena, who look utterly gobsmacked if Buck’s being honest, before they’re out the room and down the hall and Buck’s breathing a sigh of relief that the longest five minutes of his life is over.

He hates how they can still do this to him, make him feel like this, so small and unseen. Like he’s just glass, and not particularly interesting glass at that either.

“Well,” Athena’s tone could cut through steel though, the way she’s almost glaring at the empty doorway would scare anyone walking in, “they’re a real piece of work.” Buck hums in agreement, trying not to let the disappointment show, steeling himself for the coming question. Although neither of them look particularly keen on asking it, Bobby eventually bites the bullet.

“Who is Daniel?” It’s not that Buck doesn’t want to tell them; they might as well know, given his parents are there, for who knew how long, Daniel would likely come up again if they were in anyone else’s presence. He’s not sure how to explain it, when Daniel’s always been there, hovering by Buck’s side, because his parents can’t let go.

“He’s my older brother,” Buck consciously doesn’t say was, despite the fact that Daniel is dead, gone, has been for years, it’s never felt like he was too far away. Bobby and Athena frown at him, Buck more than understanding the sentiment. “He had juvenile leukemia when he was five,” he can kind of see a flash of understanding on Bobby’s face, possibly remembering last year, when Buck donated bone marrow. “My parents couldn’t donate, Maddie wasn’t a match, and they didn’t want to wait to see if they could find one on the donor's list so…”

“They… They had you?” Athena guesses, although it’s not hard to put the pieces together. Everyone had to know why Evan was born, why else would people have a child in the middle of their son battling cancer?

“They made me.” It wasn’t going to be left to chance. If it was, they could have a kid, and they might be like Maddie, genetic siblings but not donor matches. “I was made to be a perfect match for Daniel, so they could use the stem cells from my birth and then bone marrow when I was old enough and…” And whatever other part of him Daniel might need as he grew up; need a kidney, have Evan’s, liver problems crop up, cut off some of Evan’s, blood, marrow, plasma, whatever else they could harvest, Buck’s under no illusions now that he’d ever have gotten a say in it.

Daniel was the one they wanted. Daniel was the son they loved.

The room is tense, Buck picking at the stitching on his hospital blanket, as Athena stares at his fingers and Bobby is just gazing at the wall.

“It didn’t work, did it?” Bobby knows the answer, probably from the look on Buck’s face, maybe just from all the little pieces of information he’s gotten from Buck throughout the two years he’s been working for him.

“Nope,” Buck pops his ‘p’, not meeting their eyes. “Daniel died about three weeks after the bone marrow transplant,” the year that Daniel would’ve been sixteen, he’d overheard his parents sobbing on the anniversary of his death, Buck waiting on the stairs to avoid interrupting them. He’d heard his mom lamenting how unfair it was.

“If only we’d pushed them to do the operation sooner,” her voice had been muffled in the fabric of Dad’s sweater vest, “he’d still be here.” Around that time of year, even Evan imagined what it would’ve been like if Daniel had lived; if they’d be close, if they’d play games together, if Daniel would teach him stuff like riding a bike or skateboarding, if they’d sneak out of the house together to climb trees and get into trouble.

“Evan was too young, you know we did it as soon as we could, Evan might not have–”

“But we’d have Daniel.” He’d never been sure about what else his dad had said after that, if he’d agreed with the comment. It’d been the first time he’d really understood exactly how little his parents had actually wanted him. That was something no ten-year-old should’ve had to work out how to deal with.

“Not that you’d be able to tell, since Daniel is the only child my parents even pay attention to.” Buck might sound a little bitter, biting back a laugh, “They set up a chair at Maddie’s wedding for Daniel. I hate Doug so much, but I was so fucking grateful when he asked me to be a groomsman, so I didn’t have to sit next to a fucking empty chair at my sister’s wedding.” Maddie had hated it, seeing that, on the front row of her wedding, hearing people whisper. It had been the one time Buck had been grateful that Doug had no interest in Daniel at all.

Looking back, he can kind of see why Maddie married him, how she got trapped in that situation. Doug had lavished attention on her; told her how smart she was, how beautiful she was, made plans with her for their future, never once mentioned how he wished her brother was there. Buck’s pretty sure he would’ve done the same thing she had in that situation. He’d been too young to understand the underlying control issues Doug had, too naive to figure out that manipulation. He’d been mad that he was losing his sister, but Doug had been cool at first, he’d even been there on Buck’s birthday the first two years he’d been dating Maddie, brought Buck a present both times. 

And sure, Maddie had probably told Doug what to buy, asked him to just put up with her little brother for the day, but at fourteen, getting a present just for him, not because Daniel liked that stuff, Doug asking him what he’d wanted to do, it’d made him lower his guard so much about the guy his sister was dating. At least for a while.

It’s ridiculous that his sister’s abusive fucker of a husband did more for him at his birthday than his own parents.

“Baby,” Athena’s fingers run through his hair, Buck leaning into it with a sigh. Even when they’re right here, in the city, they can’t be bothered to even try and comfort him, “those pair do not deserve you,” there’s a fierceness in Athena’s tone, a fire in her eyes as she looks at him, her hand stroking to cup his cheek. “And you don’t need them,” Buck knows that, has known it for a long time, he hasn’t needed them for so long it’s laughable, “because you have people right here who see you and care about you.”

He manages a soft, shaky smile, even as he feels his energy being sapped away. 

“Get some sleep, kid.” Bobby’s hand squeezes at his good knee, strong and steady, grounding. “Athena and I will be right here when you wake up.” Because they might have better things they could be doing, other kids to look after, jobs to go to, responsibilities to tend to, but to them, Buck matters. Athena and Bobby have been more like parents in the last year than his Mom and Dad have been his whole life.

Buck knows he can count on that, knows it’s not some illusion, that he hasn’t made it up. Not with how Athena’s petting at his hair and Bobby’s gripping at his knee. It’s not in his head, he’s not just wishful thinking. His mom and dad might not see him, might not care, but he has parents who do.

-x-

He’s kept in hospital for a week. It’s mostly so that they can run scans and make sure the bone is knitting, that the rod they put in won’t cause too much discomfort or issues while it heals. Buck has to struggle around with crutches, they have to redo his cast twice because of rubbing issues with his thigh and foot. And through all of that, every step by shaky step, Bobby or Athena are right there by his side.

Even as Bobby is reinstated at the station, he carves time so that he’s by Buck’s side, or Athena is there, encouraging and supporting. May and Harry spend an afternoon with him when Athena needs to quickly dart off to help with a scene somewhere, Maddie showing up with lunch for all four of them later before Bobby arrives in time to have dinner and listen to Harry and May argue through a story they want to tell.

As he’s closer to discharge, he finds out his parents are still in the area, for what, Buck doesn’t know.

“From what I can tell,” May is sitting on the end of his bed, fiddling with Harry’s Switch to try and get something from the game all the kids are playing, “Mom’s not pleased about their attitude.” It doesn’t surprise Buck in the least, that Athena’s not fond of his parents and their issues.

He’s loath to call it abuse, even though he knows it probably fits the bill, but it’s definitely neglect. He’s fairly sure there are people who would go as far as calling them abusive, and Athena’s protective enough as it is before she met his parents.

“Color me not surprised.” Buck manages a light joke, shaking his head a little. It’s not like they’ve come back to see him at all, or even called him, just left him for a week in the hospital to recover, they probably haven’t even asked when he’s getting out. “Do you know who’s picking me up tomorrow?”

“That would be me.” Bobby strolls into the room with a drinks take-away carrier, plucks out one for May and one for Buck, “You’re going to come stay with us for a few nights,” Buck’s frowning, even as he’s taking a few sips of his mango boba tea while May devours her strawberry one. It doesn’t surprise either of them that Bobby knows their preferences. “The Diaz’s are in town for Eddie’s graduation.” Eddie probably loves that, “And you are not hobbling up four flights of stairs and ambling around your loft by yourself. I’m not getting a call from another house about how you’ve tripped over your crutches and broke something else.” Buck… Can’t really argue with that, since he’s been likened to a newborn giraffe by no less than three nurses each time he’s been trying to hobble down the halls of the hospital to prove his mobility.

“You know my building has an elevator, right?” It’s not exactly the point, and Buck knows it’s not going to sway Bobby, but something tells him that even if Buck had an at home nurse willing to answer his every beck and call, Bobby would still insist that he come home with them for a few nights.

“Harry and I can show you that movie we’ve been talking about.” May nudges him, so Buck concedes that the whole Grant-Nash family is pretty set on him spending a few nights at their place so that they can suitably fuss about him.

Since meeting his parents, Athena and Bobby have been pretty damn heavy-handed in showing him that blood doesn’t make family. Not that he minds, not that he didn’t already know it. Maddie is his blood-family, she matters, and she’s important, but he knows that if she left him again, he’d manage to get through it. He’s not entirely sure if he can say the same about the 118.

Athena arrives to pick up May, they’re stopping by his place to get some stuff, he’s told May not to go rummaging through his drawers and the pointed look at Athena means she won’t. Aside from that, he trusts that they’ll figure out what he needs.

“What movie are they showing you?” Bobby eventually questions as he settles down on the seat in Buck’s room, scooting it closer to the bed, even with Bobby’s legs bumping against the rail.

“The Princess Bride?” Buck knows he’s saying it like a question, “Apparently it’s an atrocity that I haven’t seen it, Harry’s words, and May believes I’m missing out on the most epic of romance stories. Which I had thought was supposed to Titanic, or Romeo and Juliet, but I have been informed that they are in fact exceptionally problematic tales and I should not base my expectations on romcoms on them.” Bobby’s chuckling by the end of it, Buck smirking softly. It’s nice having this back and forth with May and Harry, how they vie for his attention and try to include him in things, want him to take their side in their little battles.

He assumes this is what having an actual sibling bond is like, without the complexities of the guilt and shame and neglect wrapped up in it. He adores Maddie with his whole heart, but she sometimes feels more like a parent than a sibling. Even the age difference isn’t that big an issue; he’s nine years older than May, thirteen older than Harry, but it feels like little brother and sister, not ‘my bosses kids’.

“Oh, it is absolutely terrible you haven’t seen that. I’m shocked it’s never come up with Chim.” Bobby seems to agree, although a lot of the time, when movies come up, it’s stuff Buck wouldn’t seek out. Like, honestly, Chimney, why would he want to watch a movie where robots take over the planet and try to wipe out the human race? Isn’t that a little Y2K?

“Chim throws action movies at me, I don’t really care too much about them.” And maybe it’s his ‘sensitive’ side, the fact that Buck likes romance movies and comedies and semi-accurate historical movies. He sees action every day at work, he sees people on the brink of death more often than he’s entirely comfortable with at times, he feels the pain of them not making it. Why wouldn’t he want some kind of happy ending to his entertainment, when sometimes it’s distinctly lacking in life?

“So, I was talking to your parents.” Buck feels the weight instantly slam on his shoulders, “They came to the station with Maddie, apparently to meet Chimney. Howard.” Bobby corrects himself, shaking his head.

“Yeah, they don’t like nicknames too much.” Buck sighs out a breath, “It’s this whole we christened you with a name, you should use it thing. Which is confusing since Maddie is a nickname.” He just shrugs, “Apparently they almost blew a fuse when Daniel came home from kindergarten and asked them why they never called him Danny.” It was always the story they told, whenever they heard him call Maddie ‘Mads’. He still did it, still put affection into a name, but she’d instantly stopped calling him ‘Ev’ when Mom shot her just one look.

“Well, thanks to Chim,” and Bobby puts so much emphasis on it, Buck knows it’s on purpose, “we’re all having dinner, at Athena and I’s place.” That…

“Wait, what?” There’s a lot he can take away from ‘we’re all’, because that could mean the fire fam, which would be nice, even opening it up to the extended part with partners/wives/whatever’s included. But there’s an implication in there that it’s not a good thing, and Bobby rarely sees their gatherings as anything but good.

For all the man had claimed they weren’t a family when Buck joined the station, Bobby had made them one; cooking them meals, providing support, encouraging them to better themselves, doling out advice, showing up when they needed. He’d pulled them all into a group where they relied on each other to stay above water, to keep pushing through. Bobby made them the thing he claimed they weren’t, and it was effortless looking from the outside. Even if Buck knows it wasn’t always easy for Bobby.

“Yeah, your parents, me, Athena, the kids, you, Maddie and Howard.” That… God, that was going to suck.

“Can I leave the country, please?” He doesn’t want to sit with his parents through a meal, listen to small talk circling around to Daniel this and Daniel that, doesn’t want to have to bite his tongue anytime something is mentioned that they don’t approve of, doesn’t want Harry and May exposed to that. “At the least, the kids should go to their dads place.” Maybe he could just stay at Michael’s too.

“Sorry, kiddo, you’re not getting out of this one.” Buck is suddenly fine staying in the hospital a few more days, maybe he could suddenly lose all coordination. “Don’t even think about it.” Bobby has a smirk on his face, clearly reading Buck’s thoughts, and it startles a soft laugh out of him. He’s not sure when that happened, when Bobby started being able to read Buck’s expressions, but there’s something soft and warm at the notion.

“Okay, okay. You just want someone else who can’t drink there with you.” Since there’s likely going to be so much wine to make sure Athena doesn’t pull her gun.

“Yup,” Bobby doesn’t even pretend that’s not a bonus. “But seriously,” the warm comfort of Bobby’s palm on the back of his hand stops Buck fiddling with his bedsheet again, “Athena and I have got you, okay? I know you and Eddie have each other’s backs on the job, but here, with this,” with Buck’s staggering lack of worth, with his oppressive guilt and shame, with the ache of never being enough, “Athena and I will be right there behind you, beside you, with you. Okay?” Bobby’s other hand curls around the back of Buck’s neck, squeezing gently, the solid fatherly affection that Buck never once got from his own dad.

“Thanks,” it’s easy to believe, seeing the weight of honesty in Bobby’s face. “For everything, really. You and Athena have– I wouldn’t be able to do this without you both.” And he doesn’t just mean dinner, he means everything; coping with his leg, fighting through recovery, believing he actually might be able to get his life back.

“You’ll never need to worry about that, kid. We’re right there with you, until the end of the line.” Buck’s already nodding, when he notices the weird look.

“That’s a movie quote that I don’t get, isn’t it?” Bobby laughs at him, and he knows it at him, but not in a malicious way.

“Don’t worry, once we tell Harry you don’t know Marvel movies, you’ll be in for quite the education.” It sounds like something they share, something Harry had to teach Bobby, and if he’s pulled into that part of their family too, he’ll go willingly.

-x-

The build up to dinner is tense.

May and Harry want to join them, want to be there for Buck, and Maddie in a sense, but mostly for the older sibling they adopted without anyone coaching them on it. Eventually, they relent when they’re told there’s to be no dramatics, largely because Buck cannot control his emotions on his painkillers and sobs almost all the time when things get heated or emotional.

Harry freaked out when he thought he’d hurt Buck but gradually calmed down once Buck explained that getting through Inside Out without crying was hard enough for him when he was stable. Since May and Harry might find a lot about his parents difficult to process, they’re spending the night with Michael but have wrangled promises of going to the movies when Buck feels up to being outside and shuffling his leg about.

Buck wouldn’t call it ‘stress cooking’, although there were more sides and options than even the fire house needed when they were doing a big cook out, but that was when Buck noticed the extra three places set at the table.

“Bobby,” he’s not allowed in the kitchen, although he’s allowed to lean against the island and peer into the kitchen. Athena was dropping the kids off at Michael’s, then swinging by ‘the store’ and Buck knows that means she’s going to get extra bottles of wine, since there’s a high probability that Athena will end tonight on the patio with wine and Hen on the phone. But that doesn’t explain… “Why are there ten settings?” Since the kids weren’t staying, there should’ve really only been seven. So the three extra are sort of… throwing him.

“Oh, right, I forgot…” Who else could possibly be coming? “Eddie and his parents are joining us.”

Buck is sure he heard Bobby right, sure that the words that came out of Bobby’s mouth were… Well, they made sense, at least. But he can’t quite put them into context in his head.

“Um. Why?” The Diaz’s arrived the day before, Eddie’s graduation celebration is in another two days. Buck knows all this because Eddie paced his hospital room muttering away in mixed Spanish and English about his parents and expectation and Shannon and El Paso and a lot of other things that Buck only caught little bits of before he begged the nurse for lots of pudding and coaxed Eddie into a sugar coma.

But Eddie’s anxiety about his parents visiting doesn’t explain why they’d be joining the Buckley parents and Maddie and Chim with him and the Grant-Nash’s for dinner.

Weirdly, Buck had assumed that the dinner was meant to be a kind of ‘I’m about to start dating this guy’ kind of thing. Maddie sort of introducing her next potential partner to their parents -not that they cared that much about her last partner, beyond the fact that he cut them off any time they tried to talk about their dead son like he was the only child they had. They agreed that Doug was trash, but they thought it was trash because he was rude about their Daniel.

So, throwing in Eddie (his partner, his work partner, not the other partner) and his parents feels like it’s throwing Buck’s carefully crafted balancing act into disarray. More plates are being added and he cannot spin them all.

“Because Eddie may have overheard some discussion with Chim about your parents, and refused to not be here to back you up. And that became a debate with Chim and Eddie about weirdness, which Eddie didn’t see and Chim wouldn’t elaborate on,” it’s like hearing about a soap opera he doesn’t watch, but he can picture it all very clearly in his head, “which extended into Hen just suggesting we invite Eddie’s parents and… Make it a big family gathering.”

And that, the way Bobby says that, implies that there’s a lot of mixing of parents and partners going on here.

“We might need a signal.” Buck ponders it, catching as Bobby frowns at him, expecting a clarification, “For when you or I desperately want a drink we’re not supposed to have.” Because Bobby cannot drink and Buck should not drink, but at this rate they’ll both be driven to it before the end of the night.

Bobby’s amusement means that Buck gets to help make the salad, that he’s allowed to hobble into the kitchen and cut up some vegetables, make a vinaigrette and listen to Bobby explain different cuts of meat and what the purpose of them is. Buck doesn’t eat the meat, but he’s never been opposed to cooking it for Eddie or Chris, since they have a different dietary preference.

There’s a cauliflower steak for him, Bobby showing him how to cut it and prepare it, talking through other vegetables he could use to do it with if he’s feeling adventurous.

Athena arrives home with time to change, pour herself a glass of wine and raise her eyebrow at Buck’s presence in the kitchen, “I’m watching, just watching.” They don’t mention the salad he made, as Athena takes over with the side dishes and Buck hops out to the island again, since there’s not enough room for him, his cast and Bobby and Athena.

Then Maddie and Howard arrive with Mom and Dad, directed inside and offered drinks, coats taken and the usual cold greeting that Buck always gets; still no ‘how are you’, no ‘what’s the prognosis’, nothing about his leg or his wellbeing at all. The not so casual reminder that he doesn’t really mean much to them beyond what he couldn’t do.

When the Diaz’s arrive, not long after that, Buck feels both relieved and anxious about it all. Athena handles the introductions, Eddie to his parents, Eddie’s parents to everyone else, and as the Diaz’s and the Buckley’s and getting the handshakes out of the way, Eddie pulls Buck into a hug, Buck letting himself lean more on his best friend than the crutches keeping him up. It’s not just a quick hug or pat on the back, either. Part of Buck is aware this is because it’s the first time they’ve met up outside the hospital; it’s the first real assurance that he’s on the mend, he’s got a decent shot of getting better, his leg isn’t a lost cause. Another part is sure it’s because they both know there’s a tension with their parents that’s hard to reconcile with, a worthiness neither of them feel when they’re around the people who raised them. So Buck holds on, clings back a little, showing Eddie he’s just as there for him as Eddie is for Buck.

It doesn’t stop Buck noticing the odd look from Ramon.

“Everyone is just in time, we’re ready to serve dinner.” So they’re all awkwardly shuffled to the dinner table, a place that usual feels homey and boisterous, with May and Harry slinging insults at each other, or talking about school, lively debates with Athena and Bobby about work or Michael prodding them into a frankly annoyingly cute couple's spat.

Instead, it’s a little strained. Bobby and Athena divide to conquer, taking a head of the table each. Ramon and Helena are sat close to Athena’s side, with Eddie beside them, Buck beside him and close to Bobby’s side, while his parents are across from him, and Maddie and Chim face Eddie’s parents.

The couple comparison has not yet left Buck’s mind, and this just further solidifies it, if he’s honest.

Thankfully, dinner keeps most of them preoccupied, with some light conversation at first; mostly about where Chim grew up, if he enjoyed being a paramedic, never thought about being a doctor. Helena and Ramon interject with a few comments, Dad asks Eddie and the Diaz’s a few questions about El Paso, the Army, their family.

“So, Eddie,” Mom glances up from her plate to look over, “Are you married?” There’s a subtle shift in Athena’s expression, but Buck’s resolutely pairing his cauliflower steak with some cranberry purée that he’s avidly trying to ignore the three glances in his direction when Eddie was asked that.

“Um, separated, actually. We’re… We’re working out divorce proceedings now.” Eddie says it with a degree of finality that has Buck frowning at his plate. He’d known that things with Shannon hadn’t been going the way Eddie expected, least of all when they both discovered she wasn’t pregnant, and she turned down Eddie’s proposal. Buck tries not to call people crazy for not doing what others want of them, but honestly he thinks Shannon might be a little crazy for turning down Eddie. But that’s not his business.

No one misses Ramon’s snort or the insult under his breath.

“Papa,” Eddie’s voice takes that hint of warning to it, something he’s not always great at with Chris, since it usually wavers, but it’s firm and direct with his dad. “Not now.” So, clearly, the Diaz’s are aware of the divorce issue. Buck wonders if it’s because they’re Catholic, that they can not like Shannon and think she’s a bad mom, but not approve of a divorce because all that religious indoctrination tells them that people should remain unhappy because they made a decision years ago.

“She’s not here, I don’t need to bite my tongue. That pequeña puta should never have–” Buck doesn’t know a lot of Spanish, but he knows that. And by the expressions on his parents faces, they’re aware enough too.

“Dad, enough.” Eddie cuts Ramon off again, glancing along the table before muttering in quick Spanish at his dad, halting any further discussion about it.

“Well,” Mom starts up, glancing at Ramon, “I know that if anyone had done something to my boy, I’d feel the same.” Buck doesn’t look up, pokes about at his plate, “Daniel was so bright and happy, he’d have made any woman happy.” Bobby’s leg carefully nudges under Buck’s cast, knocking his good ankle gently, while Eddie frowns a little.

“I thought your name was Evan?” Helena cuts through the silence, looking past her husband and son, confusion evident.

“It is.” There’s little else to say to that, even as he glances up at both of his parents, who look oddly confused for some reason. “Daniel was my brother.” He says it with no inflection, no other explanation, just… the truth. If he’s broaching this now with his team, since Bobby and Athena know, since Eddie’s vaguely aware through conversations, since Chim will eventually have to find out, if Maddie hadn’t already told him. Why not do it when the carnage can be shared?

He doesn’t miss the look that Maddie shoots him, not exactly scolding, but she can tell he’s considering breaking their unspoken rule.

“Oh, so you’re not seeing anyone?” Helena either doesn’t notice the tension, or she just chooses to ignore it.

“No, Mrs Diaz, I had a bit of a rocky break-up a couple of months ago,” his split with Abby wasn’t just as bitter a pill now, but it wasn’t something he’d entirely moved past yet either. “I’m not really looking for a relationship.” At least not one that anyone at this table needs to know about, even if Athena’s look is one that tells him she knows he’s full of shit, and Eddie’s brows furrow in a little frown, almost like he’s disappointed.

For a second it’s like the topic will just be bypassed, that they’ll move to something else. Like perhaps Helena’s curiosity managed to diffuse things, let everything simmer enough that they’d find the next point of small talk.

“Daniel would’ve been married by now,” there’s a wistfulness to Mom’s voice that, had Buck not been enjoying his food, he could’ve face-planted himself into the table, “Probably had some kids, oh, we’d love some grandchildren.”

“Or, y’know, he might’ve been gay, or not want kids.” Buck keeps his face blank, making eye contact with his mother, watching as she stares back, like he just slapped her. “I mean, he was seven when he died, girls had cooties back then, he probably had no idea if he’d ever have had kids.” Helena gasps a little, glancing between them.

“Oh, I had thought–” She’d probably thought it was a recent thing, given how much Daniel’s already come up, even in light mentions that the Diaz’s wouldn’t have caught, since until they had a name, ‘my son’ would’ve made them think it was Buck his parents were talking about.

“No, no, Mrs Diaz, my brother died almost twenty-eight years ago, when he was seven. It wasn’t a recent loss.” It was just the only thing that his parents processed; their dead son, the one that they could build up however they wanted in their minds, who couldn’t choose for himself, couldn’t disappoint them by being his own person.

The ice in his mother’s gaze should freeze him, but Eddie’s hand is on his thigh, grounding and supportive, Bobby’s foot still pressed to his ankle and Athena sipping her wine, hiding the smirk that Buck knows is on her face.

“Evan, I don’t think you should speak so casually about such a tragedy.” The ire is there, it’s warning and telling. But Buck’s so aware right then of how toxic every moment of his upbringing was, how nothing he did mattered because it was compared to a vision they had in their head about a dead kid who never got to grow up, become his own person. He wonders absently if they’d have such a boner for Daniel if he’d lived, if Buck could’ve saved him, if Daniel grew up and decided he wanted to be a rapper or a liberal politician, or he got a girl pregnant in high school and never went to college.

“What was the bigger tragedy, his death or my birth?” The inhale isn’t just from his parents, Maddie dropping her fork, and Eddie’s pushing his chair back.

“Okay, c’mon you.” He’s wrangled out of his chair and out into the yard, Eddie throwing a look at Athena and Bobby to convey that he’s got this, that he’ll handle Buck right now.

And he kind of gets it; Buck doesn’t usually explode like that, he tends to just bottle it up, he accepts that maybe it wasn’t the place to air his annoyances, and fuck, he’s going to need to suck up to the Diaz’s now too.

“So… Did you take too many painkillers this afternoon?” Eddie makes him sit down on the patio furniture, making sure they’re mostly out of view of the others inside. “I’ve never seen you that antagonistic, not even with me on our first shift.” Despite Buck and Eddie bumping heads that first shift, it was never actually about Eddie. Buck had been struggling with shit from his family matters.

“You remember after that shift, when I said how… How it was family shit that came up?” Eddie nodded at him, clearly remembering how Buck had tried to reassure Eddie that it wasn’t him that Buck had a problem with. “I wasn’t… They didn’t…” It’s hard to figure out how to say it, without putting all of his personal issues into it. “They made me. They didn’t have me, or try to get pregnant, they made me, down to the last detail, so that I’d be a perfect match for Daniel.” He wasn’t the first designer baby, he wasn’t even the first one born to save a sibling. His parents had spared no expense to try and save Daniel, and some people saw that as how badly they wanted Evan, but Buck knew better.

Evan was the unfortunate by-product of the procedure. If they could’ve merely produced stem cells and bone marrow without making a kid, they would’ve.

Eddie’s silent, though, as Buck tries to put his shitty upbringing into words.

“They used the stem cells when I was born, and he got a little better, but by the time I was old enough for them to extract bone marrow, Daniel was too weak to really fight it off.” Stuck in hospital, a shadow of himself, there aren’t any pictures of that, there are no pictures of Daniel and Evan together, Maddie has some of her and Daniel, before he got sick, when he was a baby, but even Evan as a baby… There’s one photo of Maddie holding him and that’s it. That’s the extent of his family memories.

“What um… What did–”

“Juvenile leukemia. They caught it when he was five, looked for matches, none in the family. So, they started making me, took a couple of months to find a lab and doctor and all the ins and outs there. Daniel was a little older than six when I was born,” he supposes, at least his mother carried him, rather than having someone else incubate and birth him, like he was just something she ordered from a grocery store and had to wait nine months to get delivered. “I… I spent my whole childhood being compared to a kid I never knew, how Daniel never ran in the house, Daniel liked books about the ocean, Daniel would do jigsaws, Daniel liked trains.” Buck hated doing jigsaws now, even when Chris asked to make them up and Buck would sit with him, find all the edges, all the colored pieces, look for the corners.

All Buck could think about was Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, aching through Christopher’s happy babbling about how cool space was and did Buck know that Earth was the only planet that fire was possible on because none of the others had the right chemical balance, and isn’t that cool , although Buck couldn’t be a firefighter if they went to another planet, but being an astronaut would be cool enough to make up for it.

“They made me resent a dead kid because everything I did, no matter what it was, somehow became about Daniel. The only memory I have of my mom even paying attention to me was when she was sitting with a photo album talking about Daniel.” It wasn’t even like they talked about Daniel and who he was, it wasn’t like they missed the kid he’d been. They had all these visions of who and what Daniel would become, and that was what they focused on.

What they had wanted for their son; perfection, someone they could boast about, an ideal family with what they wanted.

“I take it this has been brewing for a while, then?” Eddie sits himself by Buck’s side, nudging Buck to lean a little, arm around Buck’s shoulders in a half hug, half steady, letting him just soak in the comfort.

“They’re only here because someone back home recognized me.” Home doesn’t feel like the right term for what Pennsylvania is to him, though, the cage it represented. “They didn’t ask how I was in the hospital, they visited once, Bobby and Athena were there every single day, and I’m not even their kid.”

“Yeah you are,” Eddie’s arm tightens around him, “Athena might not have birthed you, but you’re her kid, and Bobby doesn’t need to have contributed to your DNA to be your dad. They’re more your parents than those two in there, and it doesn’t matter how long they’ve been in your life, or what they donated to your genetics, they’re your parents.” And it’s one thing to think it, consider them family and look to Bobby and Athena as parents, he’s aware they’re leaning more and more into embracing him as their own, especially after meeting his parents.

Eddie agreeing simply makes it all the more real.

“How’s it going with your parents?” Buck would like to stop talking about his issues right then, though. He’ll probably cover it again with Maddie, with Bobby and Athena, maybe with whatever therapist he’s going to be urged to talk to after all this.

“Ups and downs.” Eddie admits, keeping his arm about Buck. “They’re annoyed Shannon’s around again, but also annoyed we’re divorcing, they’re not so subtly mentioning moving back to El Paso again, but conceding that Chris is clearly doing well, they don’t like that Carla is around so much, but are happy I’m not working three jobs.” There’s a lot of contradiction going on, is what Buck is hearing.

“Tell Isabel they keep mentioning El Paso,” Buck suggests, nuzzling a little into Eddie’s shoulder where he’s leaning, hoping he can brush it off on pain meds and being a little raw from his parents. “She’ll verbally destroy them and brush them into an envelope and mail them home so they can be dust in the Texan wind.” Eddie’s chuckle is warm, like hot chocolate, soothing something the Buck didn’t realize was starting to fray.

“You are high, aren’t you?” And he isn’t, not really. He’s been a little fuzzy around the edges for maybe an hour, his meds hitting him a little before everyone showed up, while Athena and Bobby were being really cute in their kitchen, dancing around one another and teasing.

“Only a tiny little bit.” Hiding the snort in Eddie’s shirt, Buck sighs softly, “Sorry about you and Shannon.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie hums lightly, his hand trailing down Buck’s shoulder, stroking when he reaches the hem of his shirt sleeve, lightly drawing patterns on Buck’s skin, “We should’ve done it a while ago, we both knew it wasn’t working. Trying to be a couple for Chris, it’s stupid, we get that now. We can be his parents without being husband and wife, and… I dunno, maybe we’ll actually be able to be friends again if we’re not married.” Sometimes, it seems like, some people just don’t work out. It doesn’t mean they don’t still care.

“Like Michael and Athena.” Buck is sure that those two still love each other deeply, but they’ve also managed to love other people, and sure, Michael and Glenn didn’t work out, but Michael’s only just started dating guys, he’s got time to find the right one. Athena found Bobby, and the three of them are parenting May and Harry so well, because there’s love and respect and friendship there. “I think you and Shannon will be good like that, together like a team, but not a couple, y’know. Chris is so cool, he’s the best, and you two are… I mean, you guys made that little dude, how can anything be bad with him, right?”

Buck’s probably really feeling his drugs, or having Eddie this close, this open, touching him so softly and gently, it’s just messing with his defenses.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Honestly, truly, Buck just wants Eddie and Chris to be happy. If they’re happy with Shannon in their lives, but not as a family unit in the traditional sense, that’s okay. It just means that down the line, when Shannon and Eddie start dating again, Chris is gonna have more people to love him.

And that couldn’t be bad. Chris deserves the whole world.

-x-

Margaret and Philip Buckley return to Pennsylvania two days after dinner at the Grant-Nash house.

Buck finds out about it through Maddie. They’d already left by the time Eddie and Buck came back inside from the yard, and they only did that because Buck was falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder.

They’ve just arrived for Eddie’s graduation at the fire station, Athena having altered his pants for him, so they could tuck the leg into the top of his cast, velcro fixed to the side to make it fit over his cast. He’d half expected her to tell him to wear sweats, rather than ruining his pants, but Athena had been with him when he’d been talking to the doctors about the possibility of another surgery, how they might need to fix another screw in, how the rod might not be stable enough. Athena’d been the one holding his hand while the options were laid out, possibly waiting and seeing if the issue corrected itself, or more surgery to fix it right now.

It’s not a choice he needs to make right this second, but he already knows he’s going to have the surgery, he’s pretty sure that Athena and Bobby know he’s going to have it too.

“Well,” Maddie’s glancing at her watch, looking around for Chim before turning back to Buck, “mom and dad should be half-way to Pennsylvania by now.” It honestly doesn’t surprise him that they didn’t say goodbye, or see him again, or even text. He’s pretty sure the cardinal sin he committed at dinner means he might never have to talk to them again, and he’s oddly okay with it.

“I didn’t even know they’d left.” Shrugging, when he’s only staying upright because of crutches, is a bad idea, Buck wobbling a little before a hand steadies him at his shoulder, Eddie appearing out of thin air. “Hey,” any dark mood talking about his parents might’ve brought up is almost instantly dissipated with Eddie’s presence, the easy smirk on his face as he makes sure Buck doesn’t topple himself ass over elbow just standing upright. “Is Chris here?”

Usually, when Chris arrived, Buck was the first one to hear about it, of course his grandparents, tia’s and extended family are there just now, but Buck would’ve still thought he’d had little arms around his leg eventually.

“He’s on his way, Shannon had him last night, so they’re coming, with cake. Chris wanted to pick up something special.” It’s adorable, really, how thoughtful Chris is. “How’re you two doing?” Eddie directs it at Maddie first, and Buck kind of gets it. Maddie’s been a tiny bit frosty with him since dinner, but it’s not like he’s overly concerned. Her need to put up with their parents isn’t the same as his.

She remembers good parents. He doesn’t.

“We’re good, Eddie,” the squeeze to his elbow at least tells him that they will be. Maddie likely needs to pack away all the emotions from their parents being around again, and Buck doesn’t blame her, not at all. He’s still pushing through his own, but he’s long since stopped apologizing for how he damn well feels. “How about you, how’re you parents doing?” And that’s a land mine that has Buck watching Eddie carefully; he can read Eddie’s tells pretty well, knows that even if he just tells Maddie that they’re fine, he’ll be able to see if that’s true or if Eddie’s just putting up the wall to pretend his parents aren’t driving him mad.

Tia Pepa is around if Buck needs back-up.

“Thing are… Surprisingly good?” Okay, the confusion is genuine, so that might be more worrying. Eddie clearly read the question on Buck’s face, “They’ve been weirdly polite to Shannon, and overly nice. I think they’re gearing up to try something, you know? Like they’ll be painfully well-behaved, and then it’ll all blow up afterwards?” That makes sense, although hopefully they do at least know better than to do anything like that at the station or in front of Chris.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Eddie.” Maddie’s drawn away by Hen and Chim, wanting her to settle a debate, leaving Eddie with a shrugging Buck, this time he doesn’t wobble at least.

“Maddie is an eternal optimist.” Even if she really, really shouldn’t be, “She still thinks our parents don’t suck a bag of dicks.”

“ Evanito,” there’s a soft scold from behind him, Eddie’s Abuela and Tia Pepa shaking their heads, even as they smirk at him.

“Hola Abuela!” He pours the cheer into his voice, grinning innocently at her with his best ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ look, getting a soft chuckle from Pepa.

“I wondered where our Christopher got that look from,” there are chuckles all around, but Buck refuses to let the grin slip, “Your parents are not here then?” Buck shakes his head, not at all disappointed that his parents weren’t going to cause some kind of scene at Eddie’s party. “That’s a shame, I would’ve liked to talk to them.”

“You say that, but I’m getting the impression from your tone and look that you would likely be burying them before the end of the day.” It makes something fizzle warmly in his chest, Pepa’s fierceness is reserved for family, he’s seen the way she’s slowly, gradually, marginally warmed back up to Shannon, how there’s still some mild distrust, Pepa still holding a grudge. But she’s so warmingly, completely, stunningly protective of Eddie and Chris, and somehow Buck’s been included in that.

Pepa just shrugs, walking away while muttering in Spanish and Isabel gives him a fond look.

“It is only a crime if they can prove she did it, nieto.” His cheek gets a pat, Abuela whispering soft words to Eddie as she follows her daughter, the Diaz family crowding around a table, arguing lightheartedly about who is sitting where.

“I’m glad your grandmother likes me,” Buck watches as Abuela instantly takes charge, stopping all the fussing and getting her family in line, having them all sat in places she chooses, “I’d be terrified of her otherwise.” Eddie snorts a laugh, but doesn’t comment, “How’re things really going with your parents?” Nothing had really been said after dinner, about how Eddie simply steered Buck out and then stayed with him most of the night; he’d noticed Ramon and Helena noticing them, but they hadn’t commented on why Buck was sprawled over their son.

“It is going pretty well. I don’t know if Abuela or Pepa lay into them or maybe seeing the absolute dysfunction of your parents was enough for them to get their heads out of their asses,” if there’s one thing to be thankful for, maybe it’s that? “They asked again, about Shannon, but they seemed to finally understand why this is what’s best, Christopher having both his parents without us constantly arguing about things.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair, but it’s a nervous gesture, not a frustrated one. “Hey, we’ve got a little while before this thing starts, can you– I mean, can we–” Eddie jerks his head towards the back of the station, when the bunk rooms are, where there’s a degree of privacy.

“Sure, yeah, of course.” If Eddie wants to talk to him about something, Buck isn’t going to try and make him do it surrounded by people, by his family, by their family. Eddie leads the way, poking his head into the bunk room and finding it suitably deserted, holding the door for Buck to hobble in.

Sitting down is awkward, it’d be a complex battle of his limbs to stand back up, so Buck leans against the wall, taking the weight off his bad leg and bracing himself in the process. Eddie isn’t pacing, but there’s a nervous energy about him right then. It’s not weird, but it’s unusual.

“So, I know that things are a little complicated right now, with um, with recovery and everything,” Eddie jerks his hand at Buck’s leg, like there’s any possible misunderstanding about what recovery they’re talking about right now, “But I was– I mean, I wanted to ask if you, maybe after things aren’t as crazy or difficult or anything, maybe–”

“Eddie,” Buck’s not sure if he’s ever seen Eddie ramble like this, if he’s ever been this unsure, “man, what’s– What’s up?”

“Go on a date with me?” Oh, oh. Okay, oh. That… Was not what Buck was expecting.

“You want to– I didn’t think–” Buck hadn’t realized that it was an option, honestly. Of course, it wasn’t like he’d made a big deal about things, by the time he’d been thinking about possibly testing the waters, Shannon was back and Buck wanted Eddie and Chris to be happy, more than he wanted to see if he had a shot. “I mean, yes, of course.”

“Of course?” Eddie’s shoulders sag, though, relief etched on his face, a thin smile tugging his lips. “I have been stressing all morning that you were going to tell me you weren’t into guys and you just say of course.”

“I thought I’d made it kind of obvious I was into you.” Because it’s not all guys. Buck knows he’s bisexual, he’s somewhere on the scale, he does lean more towards women in terms of attraction, but he connects far more emotionally with males. Eddie was a sucker punch of pure attraction that threw Buck off center, and the more he got to know him, the more he’d realized that Eddie was the full package.

Add in the absolutely adorable kid and Buck melted.

“No,” Eddie takes a few steps forward, the small smile spreading to a grin, Buck feeling the fluttery swoop of butterflies in his stomach, “At least not to me,” but then, Buck was trying to make sure he could at least maintain a friendship with Eddie, rather than lose it because of his dumb feelings. “Shannon had an inkling.” Of course she did.

Not that Eddie seems terribly off put by his soon-to-be ex-wife having an awareness that Buck’s interests in Eddie weren’t purely platonic. He’s still grinning, but there’s a smugness to it, Buck wishes he could hate how attractive he finds that, but it’s like a lot of Eddie’s good and bad qualities; they’re still somehow attractive.

Like his smug face right now, almost toe to toe with Buck, their height difference not really noticeable since he’s slouching against the wall to rest his leg. Eddie carefully slots one leg between Buck’s, cautious about nudging the cast with his knee, basically straddling Buck’s good leg. Buck’s more than fine with the way Eddie gradually presses in close, their bodies lining up easily, slotting together like puzzle pieces, as Eddie shifts to grip to Buck’s hips while Buck leans forward, tilting his head to silently ask if it’s okay.

Eddie tilts up, lips pressing gently to Buck’s, a soft gasp passing between them from the contact. It’s tentative to start with, Eddie leaning into Buck, lips gentle before a light moan bubbles from Eddie as he presses in closer; there’s no space between their chests, Eddie pinning Buck to the wall, hips keeping Buck in place as a hand slides into his hair, tugging him closer. A crutch clatters to the ground as Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist, trying desperately to get them closer, even if there isn’t any space left for them to shift into.

Nipping at Buck’s top lip, Eddie slowly drew back, both of them breathing heavily, foreheads resting against one another and soaking up each other.

“So, we're really going to go on a date? You want to date me?” Eddie murmurs it, lips brushing against Buck’s cheek as he nuzzles in closer, humming softly. Buck feels the contentment build in his chest.

“Yes,” like he’d even pretend to think about it, “definitely do. Whenever you want.” He doesn’t even care about the stupid cast right then.

“Friday? Chris is staying with Shannon, we can stay in, I’ll order food, we can talk, watch some movies, make out like teenagers on my couch.” The laugh bubbles up easily, Buck grinning into their next kiss, elated that he can just do that.

“Sounds great.” There’s no wiping the smile off his face, as Hen comes looking for them, rolling her eyes when they don’t even bother trying to jump apart. Eddie helps Buck get himself righted, both of them straightening out their uniforms and returning to the bay, Shannon and Chris having arrived at some point. Buck is pleasantly surprised that he’s directed to a table with Shannon and Chris, having expected to be joining the other firefighters at their table. Shannon just smiles at him, throwing him a wink as Chris regales him with their plans for the day.

The party is fun, Shannon sticks close to him while Eddie does the rounds, and Buck realizes what Eddie meant about her having a suspicion that Buck had feelings for Eddie, and he figures that she really is okay with it, especially when she starts asking if they have plans.

“Oh, wow, you’re adorable when you blush,” Shannon teases him with a laugh, “Yeah, I can see why Eddie’s gone on you.” And it’s still a little jarring, as Buck glances at Shannon, feeling a little shy about the situation.

“And you’re… I mean, that’s okay with you?” The smirk on her face softens, a lot like when Maddie stops teasing him to be real, to reassure him properly.

“Buck, I’d be an idiot to not see what there is between you two, and Chris. All they do is talk about you, they adore you.” Buck had sort of known that, he never stops being awed by Chris and how loving he is, “All I want is for my family to be happy, and this is the dynamic that makes us all happy.”

“I’m really glad, I really hope we can be friends.” He was absolutely prepared to be friends when he thought she was getting back together with her husband, but if this is how it works out, he’s even more hopeful.

“Oh, we’ll be best friends,” Shannon laughs, as Adriana weaves around people, catching Shannon’s attention to wave her over, “I’m going to get all the embarrassing stories out of your sister and hold them over your head.” Buck has no chance to argue with her, Chris hopping over to ask for some cake and Shannon hugging Adriana, Buck stuck in his seat right then.

He’s almost sure this isn’t good for him.

-x-

Buck and May are playing a game of Go Fish! when Bobby rushes into the house, dropping his bag by the stairs and kneeling by Athena in the sitting room. They have a rushed conversation, neither May or him trying to listen in before kisses are exchanged and they both make exaggerated disgust faces at one another.

“Kids,” Bobby calls for Harry to come running through from his room, the boy dropping into a seat beside Buck, “we’re going to go down to the courthouse and get married.” Bobby and Athena share a soft, loving glance with each other, Bobby raising Athena’s hand up to kiss the back of her hand.

“Oh, really?” May drops all her cards, jumping up to hug her mom, “But wait, we don’t have anything to–”

“I have a dress, you and your brother just get yourselves into something smart,” Harry groans loudly, but follows May down the hall to go get changed.

“Congratulations then, should I call Hen and see if we can pull together a little party while you guys are out?” He’s met with two blank stares.

“Baby, what on Earth are you talking about?” Athena rolls her eyes, like he’s been sipping wine with his meds, “You are going down that hall to get those pants I mauled for you on, Bobby’s got a smart shirt you can borrow, might be a little tight on those shoulders of yours, and a little long on the torso, but it’ll look fine,” Athena pets his cheek, giving him a soft pat before she’s slipping off to her bedroom, then quietly knocking on May’s door.

“You want me to–” He’s not sure what expression is on his face, or what Bobby reads from it, but it makes him sigh and settle into May’s chair.

“Be at our wedding? Yes, of course. Athena told me that all she needs is us and the kids, that’s what’ll make her happy. We’ve both had big weddings, fancy affairs, and in the end, the only thing that matters is the family you have there.” Buck can understand that. Weddings are exhausting; the guests and the planning and the food and the cost, the time it takes, he gets why people like them, why people put so much into it. But sometimes he wonders if they ever look back at the months of stressing and wonder if it was worth it.

He knows Maddie doesn’t think it was.

“So why–”

“Because, Evan. Us, the kids. Our kids. May and Harry,” Bobby grips Buck’s shoulder, making sure all his attention is firmly on him, “and you.” He can feel the building sting behind his eyes, the way his heart hurts a little from the clench. It’s a good ache, an affirmation that he’s sort of been falling more and more comfortable in, Bobby verbalizing what their actions have been implying for a while. “Even before this,” his leg is addressed but not just that; his leg, the truck, his parents, that’s what this means, “I’ve thought of you as mine for a while, and I know Athena has too.” 

It’s warming, a little awing, the fact that for once he’s not desperately clinging on by himself, hoping people care enough to at least give him a little attention. No, this time they’re clinging right back, welcoming him in, embracing him with their whole heart.

“So, we’re going to the courthouse, as a family, we’re going to have a wedding, and then we’re getting dinner, the five of us.” It’s all he really wants.

Even as he’s standing to Bobby’s side, May and Harry walking down the chamber room with Athena, propped up on his crutches, his heart is so full it might burst. They get a photo after the ‘I Do’s and Bobby let’s Buck message it to the others in the group chat, muting things while they got for dinner.

It’s not until later, when they’re home and Buck’s lying in his borrowed bed, which was only meant to be his for a few nights, but is now where he’ll stay until his cast is removed, scrolling through the messages from the team and the extended family when he notices the exchange.

HEN: What do you think; Buckley-Han or Buckley-Diaz?

MADDIE: For what?

HEN: The next wedding, obviously.

CHIMNEY: WHAT? Wait a second here. We just

CHIMNEY: Eddie, man, help me out.

And Buck’s staring at the screen, feeling the wild beat of his heart and the blooming grin on his face. Because right there, in front of all their friends and the family that matters…

EDDIE: Race you.

-x-