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Buck has lost track of time, lazily scrolling on his phone as though he shouldn’t have been asleep two hours ago. Forcing himself to have some self control, he locks his phone and reaches over to place it on the bedside table.
He jumps when he hears a loud sound. “What the…” Buck whispers. He listens again for any more commotion and when nothing comes, he lays down and wraps an arm around Eddie.
It’s only minutes later when the loud banging starts. “Shit,” Buck says. He shakes Eddie awake and starts to get out of bed.
Eddie’s eyes slowly open before going wide. “What the fuck?”
“That’s a fucking cop knock if I’ve ever heard one,” Buck says, scrambling to get his sweats on.
In the hallway, Buck is stopped by a sleepy Christopher, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”
Buck’s eyes dart to the end of the hallway and back at Chris a few times before letting out a breath. He squats down in front of his son and cards his fingers through the curls.
"I'm not sure yet. Go back into your room, okay?"
Christopher looks back at him with wide eyes.
“Please? I promise I’ll come update you.”
When Christopher finally nods, Buck gives him a big kiss on the forehead and urges the eleven year old back into his room.
Buck jogs to the front door and finds Eddie, clad in nothing but his boxers, closing the door.
“What’s going on?” Buck watches as Eddie retreats back to the hallway, mumbling something about the yard, which frankly is not something that makes sense.
Buck opens the door to see a cop standing a few feet away, talking to a man with a dark minivan.
He stops in his tracks when he sees her. Buck feels his heart drop into his gut like a lead balloon. Overtop pure devastation, Buck seethes with anger.
“What the fuck?” Buck starts, his voice slightly too loud.
A warm hand appears on Buck’s back, soothing him in a way that only his husband can.
Buck feels his heart shattering into pieces at the bottom of his stomach. He moves quickly to assess the situation and finds that his Jeep has been hit by the minivan and propelled into their front yard.
He gets up close with the car and rakes his eyes over every crumpled piece of metal.
The cop — a small guy, younger than Buck — approaches with a flashlight in his palm. Buck unclenches the fist at his side and holds back the emotion in his chest.
“Good morning,” the cop says, ruefully sarcastic.
Buck lets out a long breath as Eddie slides up beside him, handing over Buck’s ID and their registration. As the cop walks away with a nod and a smile, Eddie pulls Buck into a short embrace.
“This is my sweater,” Buck mumbles into Eddie’s shoulder, mock pouting.
Eddie chuckles and pulls back, leaning up to kiss Buck’s forehead, before turning towards the car.
“It’s totaled,” Buck whispers.
“How did this even happen?” Eddie says, eyes wide.
“Wranglers are actually really…” Buck starts, but he trails off, too tired and emotionally distraught to even consider finishing his sentence.
The rest is a blur. He tries to pay attention, but he can’t. Not when he knows that Eddie will remember it all.
Inside, Christopher has gone back to bed, having already been updated by Eddie earlier. Buck sits on the bed and stares into nothing, because, honestly? What the fuck just happened.
A car, a taxi, had hit Buck’s Jeep hard enough that it jumped the curb and flew entirely into their front yard.
A professional driver hit Buck’s parked car at three in the fucking morning.
Vaguely, he remembers the old meme about bad things happening to good people, and he lets out a small chuckle at his own misfortune.
Eddie waits until Buck is out of his sweats before pulling him down onto the bed and close into his arms.
“Are you okay?”
Buck curls into Eddie’s chest.
He knows it’s ridiculous, but he bought that car. He inherited Maddie’s old Jeep, and he loved it, but after years of rough travel and duct tape fixes, Buck finally settled down. He got a job and he got his life together and he bought a fucking car and that car meant everything to him.
It’s just a car, he knows, and a common one at that. It wouldn’t be hard to buy a new one, but… This was the car that he paid off when he was 26, when he turned his life around, and nothing will ever beat the pride he felt every time he washed her and got to see his reflection grow more and more mature.
“Yeah,” Buck sighs into Eddie’s chest.
“I know you love that car.”
Buck shrugs and mindlessly taps his fingers along Eddie’s chest. “Yeah, but I’ll get over it.”
“You’re allowed to feel your feelings, Buck.”
Buck smirks. “Okay, Mr. Therapy.”
Eddie flicks Buck on the shoulder and flips them around so that he’s pinning Buck down.
Buck smiles, reaching for Eddie’s wrists and taking control back, getting his husband to fall back on the mattress with a shove and a laugh.
“There’s that smile,” Eddie says with warm eyes.
“You just don’t want to admit you lost,” Buck smirks, pulling Eddie close.
They lay together, absently tapping and tracing their hands together. Eddie’s voice is soft when he says, “I know it was more than a car, for you.”
Buck sighs and stills his fingers, letting them slip in between Eddie’s. He brings their joined hands down to his chest. “Of course it was. It was a reminder of my progress, of how much more I was able to become, after… everything.”
Buck looks at Eddie’s eyes and sees nothing but soft understanding lining them. “But I have so much more than the car, now. I’m surrounded by reminders of who I’ve become, and I’m surrounded by family. So it hurts, but… It’s a flesh wound.”
“Love you, Evan.”
“Love you, Eddie.”
Buck falls asleep, still mourning the loss of his best frien— uhm, car, but already planning to buy the next one in Christopher’s favorite color.