Archive of Our Own

Despite the panic; despite the doubt; despite the crushing and, at times, immobilizing fear; and despite himself, Eddie returns to the firehouse.

Watching dispatch burn, experiencing the first ounce of actual feeling in months, Eddie leapt into action as soon as Bobby had given him the all clear. Already having been inside the flames, Eddie’s adrenaline set his body in motion and he followed Buck into the call center. The pounding numbness that had been suffocating him, the unease and uncertainty, dissipated as he worked. Smoke against his skin, sweat on his cheeks, his partner by his side—his purpose had returned.

Still afraid of what it meant to return to fire fighting for not only Christopher but himself, Eddie tried to talk it through with Frank who had guided Eddie to the words on the tip of his tongue: he hadn’t just left firefighting for his son, he had left for himself. The wording reminded Eddie of why he’d reenlisted all those years ago and when he’d admitted to Buck that he had run for himself. Lately, Eddie had been trying to give himself the benefit of the doubt and to put himself first.

Which was, of course, much easier said than done.

Looking out for himself was a foreign entity to Eddie. In his younger years Eddie had learned time and time again to look out for others first, always. His father would praise him for looking out for his sisters. Abuela would call him a ‘little hero’ when he’d pick up the spiders in her house and carefully bring them outside. His mother had cried in admiration when he told her that he’d enlisted in the army. To be a medic. To provide for his wife and give her a stable, good life. His life, he had come to realize, was built entirely on what he could do for others.

That was a good thing, Eddie would remind himself. He was doing good. Putting others first was good.

Frank assured him that it was good and that he hadn’t made a mistake in taking care of other people, in dedicating his life to it. But, as honest and on the nose as Frank often was, he’d said something to Eddie that had never once crossed his mind.

You have to take care of yourself too, Eddie.

Not just physically. Eating enough, getting sleep, and having a place to live were things Eddie did for himself. But Frank was talking about his wants and not his needs. After an eight am Tuesday morning session in late spring, Eddie had gone home and ordered an inflatable pool for the backyard.

I want you to do something this week that makes you happy, something you think is too frivolous to treat yourself to. Whether it be an expensive steak or a new outfit, I want you to do something for yourself.

So, Eddie ordered the plastic pool. And although he was dying to tell Christopher, when the pool arrived and Chris was at school, Eddie filled it with water from the hose, put on his sunglasses, and floated in the California sun in his new pool by himself.

Back in El Paso, Eddie had been the town’s champion swimmer. At five in the morning, Eddie would swim laps in the community pool before school and write down all his times in a spiral bound notebook. Tía Pepa would drive him to the pool before he could drive and then, once he had a license, Eddie had spent every morning and afternoon in the water. It was an outlet, an escape, a passion whose dwindling Eddie couldn’t pinpoint. He hadn’t swum in years. Hadn’t even thought about it.

Floating in the refreshingly cold water in the backyard of the little Los Angeles house, Eddie felt a million miles away from the boy he once was. The boy who had actively wanted things and dreamed, hoped for things Eddie could no longer recall. Now his life was his son, his job, helping people, and trying to stay alive. When was the last time he dreamed of something more? Some kind of little moment of peace like being in a pool just for the sake of it.

Christopher and Buck had insisted on throwing a backyard pool party in celebration of Eddie’s return to work. A ridiculous event, in the end, because the pool barely accommodated the three of them and nobody else showed—truthfully, Eddie isn’t sure he even asked them to come. Essentially, it had just been an ordinarily day. And yet it was one of the best afternoons Eddie had had in over a year.

Buck had woken up the following morning to a full body sunburn and bought out Target’s supply of Aloe Vera after-sun cream.

Eddie had brought up returning to the firehouse a couple of days after the dispatch fire and Buck—as Buck often did—suggested he talk to Frank about it.

“I’ve been thinking about going back to work,” Eddie had said as he sat crammed in the same corner of the couch where he sat each session.
“What have you been thinking about it?” Franks asked, glancing down briefly at his notes.

“That I might go back.”

“To the call center or the 118?”

The call center had been temporarily offering PTO until they could settle on a new location so Eddie had had far too much free time on his hands to think.

“Yeah,” Eddie responded, knowing the trepidation in his face would indicate to Frank exactly which option he wanted to choose. “Back to the firehouse.”

“How does Christopher feel about this? I know your concerns about him played a big role in your leaving.”

Christopher, the strongest person Eddie had ever known, had actually told Eddie weeks ago that he was ready to be brave for Eddie.

“He said that he’d support it.”

“Do you not think he was being truthful?” Frank prods when Eddie lets the silence linger between them, hesitation evident in his voice and mannerisms as he picks at a pull in the twill sofa cover.

“He was—being truthful. He said he could be brave.”

“Alright, well. What do you think is causing you to doubt your decision to return then? If it’s not Christopher’s opinion.”

Frank’s questions were especially frustrating because Eddie knew that Frank could already understand what he was feeling and why, just poked and prodded until Eddie said things aloud that could easily have gone unsaid. Regardless of whether or not that was the point of talking to a therapist, it was still infuriating.

Admitting he was scared seemed like such an understatement. Confessing that the day after the dispatch fire Eddie had driven to the parking lot of the 118 to give Bobby his paperwork and he’d had one of his worst panic attacks in a while.

His physically recovery period from the shooting had long since ended. His heart was ready, longed to be back with the 118. But something was wedged between his readiness to come back and the fear that had built a home in the pit of his stomach. He’d been letting the fear control and consume him—or letting himself feel afraid, according to Frank and Buck. A healthy dose of worry was fine, but Eddie was scared all the damn time.

What if I never feel normal again?

Christopher was ready to be brave, but Eddie wasn’t sure if he himself was there yet.

“It’s been a while since I left,” Eddie muses, twisting his thumb between his fingers to keep it away from the sofa. “What if I can’t do the job anymore?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to do the job?”

“Because I might panic,” Eddie said in a rush, trying to push the words out before he swallowed them down and let them hide away forever.

The fear and anticipation of having a panic attack front of the 118 or during a call—during a life and death situation that he’d sign up to handle—was overwhelming. He had always been the guy that didn’t panic, cool under pressure and always level. He was trained to stay calm, people relied on him. Now though, Eddie was someone who panicked. Regularly. And trying to convince himself that didn’t make him a liability in the field felt impossible.
“You might,” Frank confirmed and Eddie just scoffed.

“Thanks, man. Really reassuring.”

“It’s true. You have experienced traumas on the job and you might encounter some triggers while on duty. So, as I see it you have two options here. Option one, you don’t go back to firefighting. Option two, we try and come up with some strategies you can use if you start to feel panicked.”

“I think, maybe, option two.”

Eddie returns to the 118 on a Wednesday and it feels like coming home—kind of.

Bobby’s got lunch cooking on the stovetop and Ravi’s sitting on a barstool across from Bobby telling him a dramatic story that Eddie doesn’t know the context for. Chimney and Hen are locked into a flash card study session at the dining table. Buck’s sprawled across the couch, Lucy on the one beside him and they’re laughing about something. With everyone so contently paired up, Eddie is reminded just how much distance he put between himself and this team.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaims when he sees Eddie approaching, sitting up straighter against the back of the sofa and patting the seat to his right side. “You know it’s not too late, I can get my cake-guy on the phone and have a life size cake model of you made by the end of shift.”

Lucy rolls her eyes and Eddie slides easily into the space beside his best friend.

“Not only is that not possible,” Buck playfully and dramatic recoils at that, “but I really don’t need a cake.”

“Nobody needs a cake,” Buck says, the implications of how deeply Buck knows him tug like gravity against Eddie’s shoulders and he relaxes down into the cushions. Buck’s giddy look softens and, if wasn’t already feeling entirely too seen, Eddie would run and hide. Instead, he puts a hand on his gut.

“I already feel out of shape enough. If I started off this shift with a piece of cake you’re going to be seeing it again in a few hours.”

Buck laughs and drapes his arm across the back of the sofa. “Come on, we’ve got to get you bulked back up.”

“And cake is going to do that?”

“There’s protein in eggs and there are eggs in cakes,” Buck explains ridiculously and Lucy shoots an endearing grin in his direction. It makes Eddie’s own smile taste a little sour. Before Eddie can respond, the sirens ring through the firehouse.

Surprisingly, Bobby doesn’t keep Eddie as man behind.

The first call back is anything but routine while simultaneously anything but stressful. A cat is stuck in a tree and Buck perches at the top of the ladder truck, gently scooping the animal into his hands and then depositing it into the arms of a six-year-old girl who instantly begins to cry as she squishes her face into the cat’s belly.

By the time they’ve returned from the call, Carla and Christopher are waiting for them downstairs and Chris unzips his backpack to show Eddie and Buck the drawings he had made at art camp that day. The day camp had been a lifesaver, a way for Carla have some free time and to give Christopher an opportunity to see his friends. His latest drawing was highly detailed and specifically labeled pterodactyl. Christopher’s skills had improved so greatly over the past few years and the image looked like something they’d see in a book about dinosaurs.

Buck goes on and on about the drawing while Eddie and Carla go over the schedule for the next couple of days because Carla has to leave early the next day for her daughter’s dentist appointment. Maddie had offered to drive Chris to camp in the morning to cover. When they all wave goodbye, Eddie’s heart flutters in his stomach at the reminder he has to reacclimate to regularly spending 24 hours away from his son.

“Wanna spar?” Buck asks when Carla and Christopher disappear from sight.

Despite the fact that the shift is more or less uneventful and they old have two more calls, by the following afternoon, after the 24-hour shift has ended, Eddie feels like he’s been hit by a ladder truck. Buck offers to give him a lift home in the Jeep and insists on picking Chris up from art camp when Eddie lets out his fifth yawn and his eyes flutter heavily.

By the time Eddie wakes the air creeping through the blinds is dark and the light laughter of Buck and Christopher lulls him in to his son’s bedroom. How he made it inside and onto the couch at all, Eddie can only suspect has something to do with the man currently making little voices for the dinosaur figurine he has in each hand. Chris, unimpressed but extremely amused, swivels around in his desk chair as he sketches. Buck, sprawled across Chris’ bed as the evening breeze waves in through the open window, stops the voices as soon as he sees Eddie in the doorway.

“Good morning,” Buck teases lightly, sitting up so his feet hang off the mattress, leaving room for Eddie but he stays put in the door frame.

“Don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight now, thanks for that.”

“Hey,” Buck defends, putting a hand across his chest, “You try arguing with a sleepy Diaz.”

Chris smirks at the comment and Eddie runs a hand through his hair before Chris swats it away—I’m too old for that, he’s always saying and Eddie’s heart clenches each time.

“What have you two been up to?” he asks, realizing suddenly that he’s been asleep for the entire afternoon and Christopher is already in his pajamas.

“We went to the park,” Chris tells him, still focused on the drawing and Eddie studies it for a moment. It’s of the ocean, surprisingly. Christopher had never cared much for the beach and, after the tsunami, never wanted to see the water. He’d been a few times with Shannon because she adored the water. His last drawing fixation had been his dying mother and Eddie sincerely hopes this isn’t a resurgence of all that pain.

“We”—because Buck always refers to things he does for Chris and Eddie as ‘we’—"made fettuccini alfredo and garlic bread.”

“The garlic bread was so good,” Chris chimes in, setting a colored pencil down and pondering over the image for a minute.

“There’s leftovers of both in the fridge and there will probably be some for tomorrow night too,” Buck explains, finally sets down the dinosaur figurines on Christopher’s nightstand and then stands up, smoothing out of his jeans and then shoving his hands into his pockets. “I should probably head out.”

It’s the last thing Eddie wants and surely the last thing Christopher wants, but Buck has been watching Christopher the entire day. Eddie feels guiltier than he had before about the nap and about Buck having to cook dinner, regardless of if he enjoys cooking or not, and having to basically put his son to bed while Eddie just lied around and contributed nothing.

“Already?” Christopher asks and Buck smiles as he lets out a soft laugh.

“Buck’s been here all day,” Eddie starts but Christopher shakes his head.

“You said we could watch a movie before you left.”

Buck’s stance softens and he glances up at Eddie with a look as if he needs permission to watch a movie with Christopher—as if he hadn’t just taken care of the kid all day without a second thought. Eddie raises a brow because Buck should know his role in Christopher’s life by now.

“Why don’t you go pick one out and I’ll talk to your dad,” Buck offers and Christopher nods, sticking his pencils into the cup and walking down the hall to the TV console.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie asks as soon as Chris is out of earshot. Buck’s face scrunches up at the question. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well,” Buck begins, “I was going to ask if you were okay.”

“Oh.”

“You slept for like seven hours, man.”

Eddie shifts on his feet. As easy as it is to admit things to Buck—his feelings, his fears, his worries—it’s still hard to actually find those thoughts in his head to share. Naming and understanding how he’s feeling is something Frank wants him to work on. Apparently, he disassociates more frequently than is healthy and, according to Frank, he tends to mistake feeling in control of his emotions for being in denial.

“I didn’t sleep this week,” Eddie admits because it’s easier than trying to figure out how he’s feeling, if he’s okay.

“Like at all? I thought that was getting better,” Buck says in the gentle voice he’s started using a little too often around Eddie.

Buck moves across the room so he’s standing beside Eddie in the door way. Eddie could easily slip down the hall and use Christopher as a barrier between Buck and his emotions but those seven hours of sleep and the six he got in the firehouse the night before are more than he’s had combined in the last few weeks.

He had told Buck that night after Buck broke down in door and Eddie basically fell apart how he wasn’t sleeping. Buck had made up a bed for him on the sofa filled with fuzzy blankets and quiet, easy, peace and Eddie had admitted he probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway. Buck had asked him to just try, please and then took a seat in the arm chair and promised to sit with him if that would help. So, Eddie had tried to sleep but only dozed off and on here and there and by the time the sun rose Buck was snoring and Eddie had made an enormous pot of coffee.

“I mean, not really.”

 Buck, in response, asks the same question he always does these days, “Have you talked to Frank about it?”

“Yeah.”

“He give you any good advice?”

Eddie leans the back of his head against the wood work and tempts the idea of following Christopher into the living room in avoidance.

“He thinks I’m not letting myself sleep.”

“But you just slept?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answers and decides he isn’t capable of admitting anything more and starts making his way down the hall as Buck trails behind him.

“You slept at work too, just fine,” Buck adds in a hushed whisper and Eddie waves his hand in motion for Buck to keep his voice down.

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie says under his breath and then, when they’ve made it to the living room, “What movie are we watching?”

“Jurassic Park,” Chris announces enthusiastically as holds out his hand to show a big bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table and the movie queued up on the TV screen already.

“Of course,” Eddie teases quietly enough that only Buck hears and the three fumble onto the couch as Christopher starts the film.

Chris lets Eddie slip his arm across the back of the couch and fall into the gravity of his son, but Eddie holds back the urge to bring Chris against his chest and cuddle his son. To his delight, as the movie rolls on Christopher slinks further and further against Eddie until his head is resting on Eddie’s chest and Eddie’s absentmindedly running a hand through his hair as they watch. Eddie looks across the sofa to see Buck’s chin cradled in his hands as he watches them instead of the screen, and Eddie hides his face in Chris’ hair because Buck can see the heat on his skin.

As easy as it is becoming to let Buck in, it astonishes Eddie when Buck is so open and vulnerable with them too. He’s just spent the day taking care of Chris and now he’s smiling so softly and sincerely just watching Eddie and Chris relaxing together. Eddie’s heart beats quickly in his chest and Christopher squirms a bit when he hears it.

“Are you okay, Dad?” Chris whispers. Eddie nods against the mop of curly hair that he should probably schedule a haircut for soon.

“I’m really good, Chris.”

Chris sinks back into his chest and Buck sets a big, steady hand on top of where Eddie’s is holding Christopher’s shoulder. It’s grounding and warm and simple and a bit shattering in the way Eddie could almost cry. He hasn’t felt this good, this safe, in such a long time.

Eddie lingers in the little moments of bliss more and more until the first on duty panic attack hits and his bubble is painfully burst, reality tugging him back into himself and his latest well.

They’re cleaning up the scene and getting ready to head back to the firehouse when it starts. Eddie is helping Hen in the ambulance while Buck finishes reeling in the hose and Bobby is talking to the homeowners about filing insurance claims when a car with an old engine drives past and the engine pops, the noise echoing like a gunshot and Eddie drops the bag he’s holding and his entire hunched-over body jumps and then curls back down and he’s frozen.

“Eddie?” Hen asks tentatively, eyes wide and voice crushingly gentle.

He feels the panic, somehow, knows that it’s about to take over before it actually does.

First, he’s brought back to Afghanistan. He reaches down for his thigh and he can feel the hot moisture and the windblown sand sweeping across the horizon. He needs to find Mills. He needs to find Greggs. They need to get down. Low to the ground and beneath the dunes he can hear Mills’ unsteady breathing beside him. The pain flares through his leg and he’s so scared that even the adrenaline doesn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Eddie. Eddie you’re here with me.”

When Eddie presses on his heels and goes to stand, to pull Greggs’ lifeless body from the aflame helicopter, he’s weighed down by water. It surges around him. Cold and choppy and heavy. Looking around for something to keep him afloat, all he finds is mud and rock. He’s in the well. He’s going to drown. Clinging to thoughts of Christopher and to the confusion of how he’s managed to get back in the well, how to breathe this time without his oxygen, Eddie indulges in the panic. Lets it consume him.

“Eddie! Hey, Eddie. It’s me. It’s Buck.”

Buck?

Buck. Oh no. No. Blood splattered on a striped white shirt and they’re in Los Angeles where he was supposed to be safe. Buck is with him. Buck’s covered in blood and Eddie can’t stand up. His head falls against a hot, wet puddle and he knows it has to be blood. He’s been here before. Why can’t he stand up. Helpless and more afraid than he’s ever been—if he dies now, Christopher loses both of his parents in less than a year—Eddie sees Buck pinned below the firetruck. Buck—Evan. In one last attempt, Eddie reaches out his hand.

“Eddie, just breath. Hey, just breath with me okay?”

Eddie can’t breathe because there’s a bullet in his shoulder and he’s drowning and he’s going to die alone in the dessert.  

“You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Buck’s voice is taunting him and Eddie’s not ready, Christopher isn’t ready for Eddie to be gone. There’s still so much he wanted to—

“Eddie. Hey, it’s me, Buck. You’re right here, with me, in the ambulance. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.”

The scenes around him blur and he can almost make out Buck in his turnout pants but the air is hazy and he definitely can’t breathe. Maybe this time it’s a heart attack. Maybe this is the end. Maybe—

“Breathe with me. Deep breaths. In and out; I’ll do them too.”

Buck’s voice is clear as day and the longer he speaks the clearer his silhouette becomes. The first thing Eddie can make out is Buck’s face, his eyebrows and his birthmark as they rise and fall while he breathes. Eddie tries to match Buck’s breathing like they’ve done before. He only then realizes that he’s in the middle of a panic attack.

The knowledge that it’s happening and that they were on a call and that everybody probably heard and saw—

“Hey, Eddie. It’s okay. You’re safe; I’ve got you. Deep breath in.”

Eddie follows Buck’s breath and Buck scoots closer to him across the bench that Eddie can now see too. Buck reaches out for his hands and when Eddie glances down his own are trembling but Buck just holds onto them gently and pulls them up to rest against Eddie’s heart.

“Feel that? Still beating. You’re okay.”

Buck’s eyes are keeping Eddie from falling apart and he might turn to dust if Buck even considers letting go of his hands. He sort of wants to lean forward and hide away in the safety of Buck, shield himself from everything else in the world and just stay in this little safe space they have together. He desperately tries to recall some of the coping strategies Frank had walked him through. Buck had already started the deep breathing but Eddie can try and engage his senses, try to ground himself in the moment.

The air smells like smoke from the remnants of the house fire. Buck’s eyes are blue and obsessively glued to Eddie as he continues to tremble. Buck is holding his hands.

“Eddie?”

Eddie nods, he’s out of it now. Consumed not by panic but instead by the exhaustion and embarrassment of the aftermath. He bites down on his tongue because the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of Buck again, in front of everyone.

But nobody else is in the ambulance and Buck’s inching a little closer and he drops one of Eddie’s hands suddenly and his hand hovers at Eddie’s shoulder. Hold me, please. I need you to hold me or I might fall apart.

“What can I do for you?”

It’s a question Buck’s been asking all the time lately. Like Frank, he can anticipate what Eddie wants but feels the need to push him, make him ask. Which is entirely too overwhelming, so Eddie leans forward until his forehead collides with Buck’s chest.

They’ve never sat like this before.

Buck’s hugged him, yeah. A couple of times actually. The last time Buck had hugged him had been when Eddie’s right side was covered in street fighting bruises and despite himself he’d grimaced and Buck hadn’t hugged him since. Then he got shot and Buck had carried him into the firetruck and cradled his face and—even in the pain and fuzz of the ride—Eddie remembers how that felt. How safe he felt even with the bullet in his chest.

Buck was tactile with everyone all the time. Except not with Eddie, not since the shooting.

They used to stand pressed beside each other, protected in their own little bubble while the world burned around them. In the chaos of calls and emergencies and just life, standing next to each other with their shoulders brushing together always made things a little bit quieter. But not even that was a rarity.

Eddie misses the little touches more than he could ever admit. He hadn’t been with anyone since Ana and, in a new job where he really didn’t have any friends, he spent all of his non-Christopher time isolated. So he clung to his eleven-year-old and tried to think of a good excuse to cuddle him at any given moment. Maybe he was lonely and a little scared.

A little voice in the back of his head tells him to act his age, to pull himself together, to man up.

But Buck is wrapping his arms around Eddie’s back and Eddie latches onto his shirt, using his grip in the cotton to pull himself flush against Buck’s chest. Strong arms hold him upright and in a rare moment of vulnerability, Eddie let himself be held. Let’s himself feel protected. No one in the world had ever made him feel like this. Safe.

He weeps.

There’s so much Eddie wants to say. To apologize, to deny, to regain control. Or to admit, to confess to Buck every scary and overwhelming thought riddling through his head. But as he cries he can’t manage pulling his head away from Buck’s chest because this very well might be the last time he gets to feel totally safe. So he cries and Buck holds him and rubs his back and whispers niceties in his ear every so often until Eddie stops sobbing and just silently trembles against his best friend.

Buck doesn’t pull away, but once enough time has passed Eddie’s still ripped away from the momentary bliss and back into the real world.

“We’ve got to head back. You two need to ride back here?”

Freezing against Buck and all too aware of their lack of privacy, Eddie listens as Buck tells Bobby that they’ll ride in the back of the ambulance if that’s okay. Eddie had no idea how long they’ve been back here, how long he was panicking, where Hen had disappeared off to.

The ambulance shakes a bit beneath them and heavy boot steps grow closer and closer. Eddie knows Bobby’s beside them, can feel the man’s presence, but Buck’s still holding him, so he hides. If he looks up at Bobby he might just start crying again and he’s so fucking tired of crying.

“Hey, Eddie.”

Bobby’s tone is one Eddie has used with Christopher before and he feels far too much like a child after a meltdown. The embarrassment and the guilt drag him from the safety bubble and Eddie sits up a bit. Buck’s arms soften and he follows Eddie’s lead hesitantly dropping his arms. Without the barrier, Eddie has to look at both of their faces and let them see how broken he feels.

“If you need to head home early today you can go at any point. Just let me know if you do.”

Buck nods as if the decision had been mutually discussed between them and Eddie shakes his head. He needs to be here. He needs his job. He needs—

“Buck can go with you too, that’s okay.”

Bobby glances toward Buck who looks a bit taken a back but offers Bobby a sad smile and then shifts his gaze in Eddie’s direction.

Buck’s warmth should make him feel better, Buck always makes him feel better, but instead all he can think about is that thing his parents told all those years ago.

Don’t drag him down with you.

He’s dragging Buck down with him.

“Thanks, I’m okay. Thanks,” Eddie forces out, his voice steadier than he was expecting it to be.

“Alright. Don’t be a hero,” Bobby concludes and makes his way out of the ambulance, shutting the doors behind him before someone starts the engine and the cars drive away from the charred house on the quiet little street.

Buck stares at Eddie as he sits up and leans against the wall of the ambulance.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eddie states, voice firm. Buck shakes his head.

“We can talk about it when we go home, as soon as we get back to the station.”

Home. Not your place or my place or your home. Home.

“Buck, I’m—”

“Eddie. It’s just me. You can be honest.”

The urge to put the rest of his mask on—keep rebuilding his walls until he’s the Eddie that he needs to be is back and all the broken parts of him are gone—almost outweighs the way Buck’s inviting and warm expression makes him feel.

Because, really, it is just Buck. Buck’s seen him at his lowest of lows. Buck’s singlehandedly brought him back from the dead and saved his son’s life. Buck was there when Shannon was bleeding out in the street and when Eddie was taking a baseball bat to his house. Buck just fucking held him through a panic attack.

Frank’s voice repeats in the back of his head to talk about his traumas with someone who shares them. Christopher’s voice follows, reminding him that talking makes it less scary.

And only because it’s Buck—and only Buck—Eddie lets himself be honest.

“I didn’t think I was ready to come back.”

Buck sways a bit closer but there’s inches of empty space between them and Eddie feels the distance like a bullet in his chest. Buck says nothing, waits for him to elaborate.

“I didn’t want to panic. I don’t want to panic. Not on the job; people could die because I can’t—I can’t stay in control and this time it was fine, but what if next time I freak out people die?”

“I’m not going to make you any promises I can’t keep, but remember we work as a team. And I’ve always got your back.”

On paper, the thought should be comforting because he’s right. Somebody else would step in and everything would probably, likely, be fine. And Buck’s there—that helps.

“What if you’re not there?” Eddie asks so quietly for a moment he thinks Buck hasn’t heard him.

Buck’s shoulders lower and he leans his head down over his right shoulder so he’s looking directly at Eddie.

“Then I’ll come.”

“Buck,” Eddie protests because he doesn’t want empty promises, doesn’t want to be soothed.

He wants a real, solid backup plan. He needs some sort of plan that’s more substantial than slowly calming himself down from a panic attack and hoping someone is nearby in time to help. If he’s alone, if the fire’s burning, if someone is dying in his arms. Eddie needs to be ready. If Chris needs him, if Buck needs him. He can’t live his entire life feeling helpless.

“I’ll always come when you need me, Eddie.”

Wanting only to reach back out for Buck but not ready to ask, Eddie tries instead to take deep breaths.

“I think I want to—I think I want to go home,” he admits.

“Okay,” Buck says reassuringly, puts a hand on Eddie’s knee and it’s enough to ease some of the storm inside his head. “We’ll go together.”

‘How do I get back to that person I wanted to be?’ May had asked him before he left dispatch, after the social media girl almost died on a livestream.

The words linger in the back of Eddie’s mind as he and Buck lay in the inflatable pool in the backyard. Sunbathing while their coworkers are out saving lives adds to the guilt crushing Eddie’s shoulders but Buck bumps his foot against Eddie’s hips and motions for him to look up. Christopher’s walking through the back door.

“Dad! Buck!”

“What are you two doing home?” Carla asks from behind Chris and the two make their way down the stairs of the deck and Christopher draws a hand over the edge of the pool to test the temperature. It’s a bit too cold to count as warm but in the heat of a summer, California afternoon it’s refreshingly. Calming. 

“After you do your homework you can join us,” Buck tells him and then looks to Eddie softly, foot still pressed against Eddie’s hip.

“Short day,” Eddie explains in brief to Carla. “Want to have a pool day, or the afternoon off?”

Carla laughs at the suggestion and it’s light, easy. A selfish part of Eddie enjoys just being in the company of someone who hadn’t just watched him cry.

“It’s like you don’t want to have a job these days.”

“I never said you wouldn’t get paid.”

“In that case,” Carla smiles, dramatically turning and setting a foot forward like she’s going to march away. Christopher laughs as she freezes in that position and then turns more subtly back around to face them. “What do you think, Chris?”

“Can you help me with my math homework before you go? They’re helpless,” Christopher motions his arms to Eddie and Buck. Buck feigns feeling offended and Carla chuckles, promising Chris to help him and then going over the plan for the following afternoon with Eddie before the two make their way inside and Buck and Eddie are alone in the backyard again.

“What are you thinking about?” Buck asks as the water laps between them and a drop of sweat drips down the back of Eddie’s neck.

The air isn’t as dry as El Paso, but it still gets hot. A dog barks down the street and a bumblebee zips through the space between them before deciding to settle on a flower nearby. The backyard makes it easier to admit to Buck what’s been on his mind.

“Frank thinks I should do things that make me happy.”

Buck cocks his head to the side in the endearing, puppy-like way he often does and something about it always makes Eddie’s stomach flutter. “Hence the pool.”

“Hence the pool,” Eddie repeats, ducks his chin down against his chest.

“I happen to agree with him.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie starts, tickling his fingers around in the water and then setting them on his neck to cool off his skin. “The problem is: I don’t know what I want.”

“Come on, there’s got to be things that you want. Like, if you won the lottery tomorrow, there’s no way you’d just save it all.”

Eddie shrugs.

“Depends.”

“Eddie, really. There has to be something you know you want.”

“Material things, sure, but…” the thought trails off because Eddie isn’t quite sure how to properly word what he’s about to confess. Buck awaits, gives him time to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know who I want to be. Who I am.”

Even as a kid, Eddie wasn’t allowed to want the things he wanted, to be the person he was. The last time Eddie really felt assured in who he was, was as a little kid. Ramon would be at work and Helena would be with Pepa or Abuela and it was just Eddie and Adrianna and Sophia. They would build forts in the backyard trees or paint the driveway in sidewalk chalk. They’d get on their bikes and Adriana would put Sophia on her back and they’d just peddle down to the pool or the park or the movie theater. Eddie wanted to be an Olympic swimmer and bake cookies with Abuela for dinner instead of whatever it was Helena would cook. He wanted to go to dance classes with Sophia. He wanted to spend his days with his sisters and his abuela and his family.

But Ramon would get home from work and he would tell Eddie he was too old for hugs and he’d get upset with Helena for letting Adrianna paint his nails and he’d yell at Sophia for throwing a tantrum at dinner. Eddie would sit at the dinner table and try his hardest not to cry and they’d fall further apart from each other with each day.

Shannon came along and tried to bring Eddie back to himself but it was never enough and he enlisted and then reenlisted after she got pregnant, their lives quickly becoming instantly about Chris and his needs. Add in getting shot down, Shannon’s mom getting sick, Shannon not coming back, and then Eddie’s move to Los Angeles. He’d come so far from himself that any pieces left were unrecognizable.

“I think I’ve been living my life for…for everybody but myself. For so long that I don’t even know what pieces are actually me, and what pieces I’ve just convinced myself are me. I don’t know if that even makes any sense,” Eddie instantly attempts to brush off the seriousness in his voice but Buck’s gaze is steady and unwavering, he listens to Eddie earnestly, hangs on every word.

“Hey,” Buck assures him, digging his big toe into the skin just above Eddie’s hip to get his attention. “That makes sense. I’ve felt that same way.”

“You have?”

Buck nods and hopefulness swirls in Eddie’s heart in the way Buck manages to make him feel heard and not alone.

“I’m a people pleaser, remember?”

“So how do you,” Eddie starts to ask, running his fingernails against the blue plastic pool cover, “figure out what’s real? What’s you?”

“I try to think about what I do when I’m alone. It’s the only time there’s no expectation and, if I want something when it’s just me, then I must actually want it.”

Buck’s logic seems sound but the problem is that Eddie is rarely alone; he’s a father and firefighter. Sitting here with Buck, is probably the closest thing to being by himself. Buck doesn’t have any expectations for Eddie, any preconceived notions of who he should be. Buck tells him that he’s an amazing father—a compliment Eddie is working hard to actually believe—but other than that he lets Eddie just be Eddie.

Who is he when he’s just around Buck?

What does he want when it’s just Buck and Eddie?

Eddie tries to collect his thoughts the entire afternoon, even when Carla says goodnight, Christopher squishes into the pool between Buck and Eddie, Buck makes them homemade pineapple popsicles, and then Buck and Eddie drink beer on Eddie’s couch once Christopher is asleep.

What does he want?

Whatever it is, it must be something close to what he already has because there’s nothing Eddie wants that day that he doesn’t already have.

The first authentic want that Eddie can name is sleep.

After three weeks back at the firehouse, Eddie still can’t manage to get a good night’s sleep, or any sleep really, when he’s at home. At the station and in those uncomfortable, tiny little cots, Eddie will get somewhere between two and five hours of rest. Not quite enough to be healthy, but enough to keep Eddie from extreme exhaustion and emotional spiraling. At home though, Eddie stares at the ceiling for hours and hopes to at least doze off. He can’t.

Frank has convinced himself that Eddie is refusing to let himself sleep. He prompts Eddie to consider why he can sleep at the firehouse—why he could sleep when Buck was over at the house.

At this point, Eddie doesn’t even care to know the reason why he can’t sleep when he’s at home, why he can only sleep around Buck or the 118. All he wants is some damn sleep.

Buck and Christopher are out at the zoo for the evening and Eddie is laying on the couch with his feet hanging over one arm and his head nestled against the other. A throw blanket is draped across his torso and a telenovela plays on the TV. Eddie has already seen the episode—has seen the entire series twice and is now re-watching it for a third time because there’s nothing better to watch—so he tries to get some sleep. The lights in the living room are shut off, curtains drawn, and Eddie begs his eyelids to droop.

Dr. Romero and the florist from across the street, Valeria, are about to share an epic first kiss when Buck and Christopher walk through the front door and Eddie groans. Not a minute of sleep, not even a sleepy buzz or anything. He’s exhausted, he should at least be sleepy.

Buck and Chris chat as they make their way through the house and Chris slips down the hall to brush his teeth before the two men will read him a chapter of his latest novel. It’s late enough that Eddie wonders if they stopped for ice cream or some other sweet after the zoo closed. He doesn’t ask and has trouble making his limbs sit up when Buck plops down into the armchair beside the sofa.

“Well, I’m beat,” Buck jokes tiredly and he throws his arms out across the chair’s armrests and leans his head back against the wall, tilting it slightly to the left and warmly smiling at Eddie.

Eddie yearns to feel that same sleepiness. He curls further into the couch and tugs on the blanket so it rests at his shoulders.

“Hey, you okay?” Buck asks, voice gentler, softer. Eddie’s eyes lock on the TV where Dr. Romero is preforming brain surgery now on the florist’s twin sister.

“I’m just tired,” Eddie answers and it’s so close to being honest. He’s not tired, really; he’s exhausted. Having reached the point where he doesn’t even remember what it feels like to sleep regularly or have enough energy for his days. Not sure if he’ll ever be able to sit up or stand again, Eddie sinks further into the comfort of his couch.

“I can head home if you want?” Buck offers but Eddie just shakes his head.

He’s too exhausted to think properly—that’s the excuse he’s going with when he says to Buck, “I don’t want you to go.”

The thought of being alone, of having to muster up the energy to put Chris to sleep and then lay in his bed for hours furiously watching his ceiling fan spin and the sun rise through the cracks in the blinds. Once he’s given himself the permission to ask Buck to stay, Eddie already feels lighter.

“Oh,” is what Buck says in reply and he sits up so his back is straight, his brows tipping just above him nose in concern. “Okay.”

Buck’s constant fretting over Christopher is what initially drew Eddie to him. Buck’s protectiveness over the boy, over the firehouse team, over his sister. Buck loves so openly and selflessly, and he’s everything Eddie has always wanted to be. The way Buck is with Chris—Dios—that’s the kind of father Eddie wants to be for his son, the kind of father he desperately wished Ramon had been.

As their friendship grew stronger, Eddie found himself on the receiving end of Buck’s fretting, his overprotectiveness, his devotion. At first the attention felt strange, made Eddie want to add layers of bricks to his defensive barrier wall. Eddie was supposed to take care of everyone else, was supposed to be able to fully provide for his son. It wasn’t until the tsunami that Eddie realized having Buck as his partner wasn’t a threat to his own parenting capability. That having Buck around to help didn’t make him a bad father. After the well, Eddie realized having Buck around made him a better father. He put Buck in his will without so much as a doubt.

After he was…shot, Eddie let himself be looked after by Buck in a manner he’d trusted no one but maybe his mother and abuela with as a child. Buck’s loving, constant presence in Eddie’s life had become his safety net and Eddie let himself have it. Want it. Rely on it.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight if you go,” Eddie explains with his voice muffled against the blanket. Buck has to know how hard it was for Eddie to admit he needs help, isn’t doing as ‘fine’ as he tells everyone else. Buck leans forward and Eddie contemplates pulling the blanket over his face.

“You’re still not sleeping?”

Eddie nods into the armrest.

“I mean, of course I’ll stay. But, Eddie, you can’t live without sleep.”

“I know,” he whispers, voice embarrassingly quiet. It’s just Buck, he reminds himself. “I’m trying.”

Buck puts his hands on his knees and uses the pressure to haul himself up to his feet before walking over to the coffee table and he sits down on its edge, feet in the space between the table and the sofa. Lifting his hand out, Buck sets the back of it on Eddie’s forehead for a moment before putting it back down in his lap and shaking his head. Eddie’s not sick, he’s just exhausted.

“Then what? Is it nightmares?”

“No.”

It’s not nightmares because Eddie can barely close his eyes let alone reach the REM where dreams start occurring. His next confession slips off his tongue more easily with Buck standing so close, and having already said the words to Buck before.

“I’m afraid.”

Like a broken record, Buck repeats his own words right back to Eddie.

“What are you afraid of?”

“That if I close my eyes I’m going to get stuck back … there. And I,” Eddie rushes to continue when Buck opens his mouth as if to say something reassuring, “I think I’m more scared to have a panic attack or a nightmare or flashback—whatever—than I even am during it. I don’t know. Like, when I came back to work all I could think about were the ‘what ifs’. What if I have a panic attack? What if people realize how scared I am? What if they don’t think I can handle it? What if I can’t?”

“Eddie, nobody thinks that of you.”

“I know,” Eddie retorts, he does know. Bobby, Hen, and Chimney had all pulled him aside separately to make sure he was alright, to offer a hand to hold or shoulder to cry on, and to reassure him how glad they were to have him back. Their words, their actions; Eddie let’s himself hear them and believe them. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“What are you trying to say, then, Eddie?” Buck asks earnestly.

“I’m so afraid of being scared that I don’t sleep. It’s so bad that I don’t even yawn or feel sleepy or normal.”

Buck cringes because he’s told Eddie so many times not to compare himself to normality, to realize that everything he feels is his own normal and there’s no expectation to meet. When Eddie had told this to Frank, the man had asked if Buck’s ever considered becoming a therapist himself. Eddie had laughed it off but Buck’s words echoed in the back of his mind time and time again.

“You sleep at work? What’s different there?”

“You’re there—I think.”

Buck’s lips turn up ever so slightly and he puts a hand out gently and rests it on the top of Eddie’s head. He really needs a haircut because he can’t quite feel Buck’s fingers, just the weight of the hand there. Instantly, the touch makes him feel a little safer, a little bit less scared.

“I can’t sleep when you’re not with me, but I … I can’t ask that of you,” Eddie explains sadly.

“Why not?” Buck asks, cocking his head to the right and running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. They tingle against his scalp and Buck’s hand lowers until he reaches the hair on Eddie’s neck. Moving further south, Buck brings his palm over to Eddie’s jaw and then he has the audacity to cradle Eddie’s face, thumb kneading against Eddie’s sideburns.

Of course, it’s in that exact moment that the realization hits Eddie like a ladder truck to the leg: he’s in love with Buck.

Buck’s holding him so gently, so lovingly and Eddie has never felt so comfortable, so free, so himself. Buck has always taken care of him without expecting a thing in return. Physically, emotionally—all of it all of the time. Buck takes care of his son, adores him and is devoted to him. Buck with his cheeky smiles and loud, goofy laughter. Buck’s idyllic view of others and his ability to make everyone around him feel special, seen, wanted. Buck’s everything Eddie wants to be, but he’s also everything Eddie wants.

Maybe this type of wanting is what Frank is talking about. Maybe this type of wanting is what Carla had told him about. Maybe this type of wanting is what he tried to build with Ana, to maintain with Shannon. Maybe it’s part of who he is.

Maybe he can let himself want this.

“Because you can’t sleep over every night just because I’m a little scared. You have a life outside of me and Chris.”

Buck chuckles as if Eddie’s just made a joke.

Truthfully, there’s not an ounce of anything but seriousness in Eddie’s words. Buck deserves to want things for himself too, to not spend all of his time trying to take care of others. Eddie shouldn’t drag Buck down into his mess.

And Buck isn’t his.

Best friends don’t rely on each other’s presence to fall asleep, to function. Eddie may be unwaveringly in love with Buck, but Eddie is just Buck’s best friend and work partner. He can’t ask it of Buck because Buck will spend every night at Eddie’s bedside without hesitation. Buck will devote his entire being to Eddie is he so much as hints the idea. Buck doesn’t deserve that.

“You and Chris will always be my number one priority, Eddie.”

Buck’s hand hasn’t moved from Eddie’s face and, selfishly, Eddie reaches up his own hand to hold onto Buck’s wrist to keep the position. The feeling he’d had in the back of the ambulance—the worry that he would never experience Buck holding him again—is only amplified now. It’s the best feeling he’s ever felt and now that he knows why, that he loves Buck, he wants to permanently freeze this moment of time so it’s always him and Buck and this warm little living room covered in moonlight and safety.

Eddie doesn’t trust his own voice to speak so he just stares into Buck’s eyes, so open and confused as Buck’s wet eyes stare right back. Holding the eye contact is awkward yet somehow steady, grounding, and ridiculous because Buck is holding him and they’re just friends. It shouldn’t feel like this, but it does. Maybe it always has and Eddie is just now realizing.

“Eddie, hey,” Buck says abruptly, his thumb freezing on Eddie’s cheekbone. Worried that Buck is going to let go, Eddie clings to his grip on Buck’s wrist. “I mean it. There is nothing in this world that is more important to me than you two. Nothing.”

Oh. Okay. That’s a lot to hear. To process.

Eddie wants to protest. What about Maddie? What about the firehouse? What about Bobby? What about Lucy—shit, what about Lucy? What happens when Buck inevitably falls in love with some woman who’s far more suited to be with Buck than Eddie and suddenly Buck’s leaving just like Shannon? What happens when Chris graduates high school and goes off to college and Eddie’s alone and Buck isn’t around anymore without the excuse of Christopher?

He’s going to leave one day, everybody leaves. Eddie alone isn’t reason enough to make anyone stay.

Buck said it himself ‘you and Christopher’, ‘you two’. They’re a package deal but Christopher is becoming his own person and one day, when he doesn’t need Eddie, Eddie will be left by everyone and—

“Eddie. I love you, okay? Let me help you.”

And Buck’s never … Buck’s never said that to him before. Not those three words. Yeah, he’s shown Eddie, but it was always just beneath the surface, just implied. Now Buck has said it and he looks so sure of himself and he’s still holding Eddie.

It’s enough to make Eddie want to cry.

Buck loves him. But Eddie loves Buck.

“I don’t have a life ‘outside’ of you and Chris,” Buck continues, his thumb kneading against Eddie’s skin and his other hand comes down to hold onto Eddie’s shoulder. He squeezes Eddie’s collarbone and Eddie wills his tears not to swell. “I want you to understand that. You two are my life. I don’t walk out of here and leave my love for you and Chris at the door.”

“This,” Buck says, lifting the hand from Eddie’s shoulder to motion to the space between them with a giddy grin, “This is family. And I need you to tell me that you know that.”

Eddie nods because he’s feeling too emotional to speak. A tear betrayingly slips out of his eye and Eddie lets it fall and leans into Buck’s hand.

“Eddie?”

“I know,” he can only whisper, voice cracking.

“So ask me, please.”

Stay? Love me?

Buck’s free hand settles down on the other side of Eddie’s jaw and, okay, this might even beat the feeling from earlier, and from the ambulance too. Another tear falls and Eddie’s other hand finds Buck’s wrist. Stay, stay, stay.

“Will you stay?” Eddie manages, voice shaky and low like he’s just woken up—a part of him feels like he has. “Please?”

“Of course. Anything,” Buck answers quickly, easily, honestly.

He leans down as he holds Eddie’s face in his hands and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. Even with Ana or Shannon or, hell, anybody, Eddie has never been in such an intimate position. Clinging to Buck’s wrists, cradled between his hands, so close to Buck’s lips that little puffs of breath tickle against Eddie’s nose. If he leaned ever so slightly closer they could almost be kissing.

Buck turns his face ever so slightly to the side and upward so his cheek is resting against Eddie’s forehead now. Something soft and chilled touches the skin on Eddie’s forehead and—wow, okay—those are Buck’s lips. It’s just a peck of a kiss but Buck’s done it and now it’s all Eddie can feel. The skin where Buck’s lips had been tingles and his hand spasms a bit.

Eddie is so fucking in love with him.

“This okay?” Buck questions suddenly, as if they haven’t been holding each for the last fifteen minutes. Maybe he’s asking about the kiss, maybe something else. Eddie doesn’t care, it’s all okay. He nods into Buck’s hands and lets only one more tear fall.

Suddenly, he yawns. Buck’s hands soften as Eddie’s jaw expands but Eddie grips tightly to his wrists while Buck lifts his head up.

“Want to try and sleep?”

“Yeah.”

Begrudgingly, Eddie lets go of Buck’s hands and there’s miles of distance between them as Eddie shuffles to his feet and Buck follows him like a shadow down the hall. The shower runs behind the bathroom door and Eddie remembers Chris is home. He should really stay awake until Chris is asleep.

“Hey,” Buck interrupts his train of thought, and then, like a mind reader, “I’ll take care of him. You just sleep.”

The exhaustion has slowly transformed into true tiredness and Eddie is desperate for sleep so he agrees but knocks on the bathroom door and wishes Christopher goodnight before he lets Buck lead him down the hall.

When they make it to Eddie’s patched-up bedroom, Buck draws back the bed sheets and Eddie peels off his hoodie so he’s just in his t-shirt and sweatpants. Crawling into the bed, Buck hands him over the hem of the covers and Eddie draws it up to his chest and crosses his arms on top of the fabric. Buck picks up the alarm clock on his nightstand and proceeds to turn off the alarm. They aren’t working tomorrow so Eddie supposes it’s okay—especially considering the fact that it is highly unlikely he’ll even sleep through the night. After he sets the clock back down, Buck puts his hands on his hips.

“I’m gonna be right out on the couch, okay? If you need anything just let me know and I’ll take care of it.” The ‘I’ll take care of you’ goes unsaid but Eddie knows it’s there.

“Thank you, Evan,” he responds and Buck’s eyes grow wider as they usually do when Eddie says his name like that. “I don’t—I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“You don’t have to,” Buck tries but Eddie shakes his head and reaches out his hand. Buck intertwines their fingers and Eddie gives Buck’s hand a squeeze.

“Thank you. I love you too.”

Buck doesn’t need to know just how true his words are, just how much Eddie does love him. Maybe someday, maybe, but not right now. Eddie is too tired for that conversation, too comfortable in what they have right now. In the lingering trance the tickled skin where Buck’s been holding him, where he kissed him.

“If you need me,” Buck offers one last time, his voice a little shaky now. Somewhere down the hall the shower turns off, and Buck and Eddie both glance back toward Eddie’s hallway.

“You’ll be here.”

Satisfied with Eddie’s response and ready to go put Christopher to sleep, Buck squeezes their hands and leans down. He stares into Eddie’s eyes for a moment and just blinks. Eddie thinks he knows what’s about to happen—again, for the second time that night—and nods in permission. Buck smiles and presses another kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

With Buck’s warmth surrounding him and the duvet nestled around him, Eddie shuts his eyes and lets himself sleep.

Being in love with Buck changes everything.

Every fist bump and brush of their shoulders, every lingering smile and fit of laughter, Eddie swoons. Now that he’s realized it, Eddie can’t hold it in. Buck will put a hand on his lower back as he slips behind him on a call and the touch will tingle through his turnouts.

Eddie’s in the deep end of the pool and he never wants to get out.

He tells Frank first because maybe he’ll be able to talk Eddie out of it, convince Eddie that his feelings are just a projection of his new willingness to be open with his emotions. Maybe what he feels for Buck is just the ‘normal’ way people feel about their best friends.

Apparently, it is not.

The moment Eddie brings up his romantic feelings for Buck during their Tuesday morning session, Frank assures him that his feelings are healthy and wonderful and okay. That admitting he’s in love with Buck is something he should be proud of himself for. That he’s not doing anything wrong.

The reassurances resonate and help Eddie, perhaps more than they should, but Eddie listens and then tells Frank about how he never felt any of this with Ana. Confesses that, while he loved Shannon, theirs was a more fiery and fast love. They had been so young and it was just supposed to be something fun and easy. Then Shannon got pregnant and they married because that’s what people are meant to do, because Eddie’s parents didn’t want them to burn in Hell for having a baby out of the covenant of marriage. And Eddie had loved Shannon, still loves Shannon. Their love was not an undying, forever love though and their marriage had been anything but easy. Anything but a safe space for either of them.

His relationship Buck, however—regardless of if Buck reciprocated his romantic feelings or not—had always been easy and safe. They had their ups and downs, yeah, but it didn’t feel like work to love Buck. It just felt like breathing.

Frank had given Eddie a few pamphlets on the sexuality spectrum and assured him that he was not obligated in any way to find a label, but that if he was curious the internet was a great resource and there were plenty of queer support groups for adults around the Los Angeles area.

Frank also reminded Eddie that he had some queer friends with whom he could talk about this, people who were likely to understand how he was feeling. People who might be able to help him figure it all out.

So, once Eddie gets out of therapy and responds to Buck’s text saying he’s going to stop by the grocery store and then he’ll be home, Eddie dials Hen’s number.

“Eddie?” Hen asks through the phone after only a couple of rings.

“Hey, Hen.”

“Is everything alright?”

Eddie steers the truck onto the freeway and fiddles with the air conditioning. He can’t remember the last time he just called Hen out of the blue and the worry is evident in the tone of her voice.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” It’s one of the rare times when he uses that phrase not as a cover. “I was actually wondering if you had some time to get together this week?”

A little sigh chimes through the phone.

“Of course! I mean, I don’t really have a ton of extra time right now. But I have time for you. Does, uh … hold on let me check something. Does tonight work? Maybe you could stop by after dinner?”

Tonight is good. Tonight is soon.

Eddie isn’t Chimney; he can keep a secret. But the water in his pot is ready to boil over and if he doesn’t tell someone soon, he’s going to tell Buck and he has no idea how to navigate the ramifications of that.

“After dinner is perfect. I’ll see you then. Thanks, Hen.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Eddie.”

When Eddie gets home he unloads the groceries and meets Buck and Chris out in the backyard where they’re having a water gun fight over the plastic pool. He contemplates what he’s going to say to Hen and what he wants to ask even when he joins in, and still he contemplates later as he’s dicing an onion while Buck stirs the pasta sauce on the stovetop. Chris works through his math homework and Eddie and Buck pathetically struggle to assist him while Buck strains the penne and Eddie loads the prep supplies into the dishwasher.

As they eat, Eddie quietly thinks and afterward he says goodbye to Buck and Christopher, who are now curled up around each other on Eddie’s couch ready to start binge watching a new TV show that Eddie’s never heard of. Eddie tries to thank Buck but he’s shushed and Buck tells him to say hello to Hen and Karen for him. Christopher asks Eddie to inquire about Denny’s schedule and when they can get together soon. Eddie promises to do as such, heads out to the truck, and makes the drive across town and over to the Wilson’s house.

Karen answers the door when Eddie’s clammy hands finally muster up the courage to knock. Telling Hen is going to make it real.

“Eddie! It’s so good to see you, come on in,” Karen greets as he pulls the door open and motions for him to step inside.

Eddie slips off his shoes respectfully—because the Wilsons are a strictly ‘shoes off’ household—and sets them on the mat beside the door.

“It’s good to see you too,” Eddie responds as Hen’s footsteps tread down the steps and the woman smiles warmly to where Eddie’s standing in the entryway. Karen shuts the door behind him and Hen’s walking right up to him and pulling him in for a hug.

It’s not entirely unexpected but Eddie and Hen don’t often hug, so it takes him a moment to realize he needs to hug her back. He missed her so much when he was working at dispatch. He saw Buck all the time and sometimes saw Chimney or heard about him through Maddie, and Maddie through Buck, but he didn’t often hear from Hen. He should’ve reached out more to all of them, but his brain had been too clouded in trauma and learning how to heal and he hadn’t been the best friend this past year.

So he holds Hen tightly against him until she pulls out of the embrace.

“I’m really glad you called. I’ve missed you, Diaz.”

“I missed you too, Henrietta.”

Hen grins and lets out a comfortable laugh.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll grab us something to drink. Want a beer? We also have I think a red,” Hen asks, looking over to Karen for confirmation, “wine from one of Karen’s coworkers? I swear, every person who came to the vow renewal brought us wine. We’re going to be stocked for years.”

Eddie laughs along with her because he also gifted them a bottle of wine, but he doesn’t remind Hen of that fact.

“Red wine sounds great,” he answers and Hen looks relieved, darting back into the kitchen. Eddie takes a seat on one of the armchairs in the living room and Karen lingers in the entryway as Hen pours two glasses of wine. Eddie asks her about work and she tells him about their newest projects and some of the office gossip that Eddie loves. They’re talking about scheduling a playdate for Denny and Christopher when Hen brings in two glasses of wine and sets them down on the coffee table.

“We’ll figure it out, you have my number,” Karen tells him as Hen nestles down on the sofa.

“I do.”

Karen kisses Hen’s forehead before she makes her way to the back of the house and Eddie is brought back to the reason why he’s here. Buck. He’s about to tell Hen, to come out to Hen, to admit how completely in love with Evan Buckley he is. His hands are sweaty and Hen’s got that warm and inviting look on her face and their living room is a little too cozy to be real.

“What’s going on?” Hen asks. “Not that I don’t love to see you, but you look like you’re about to tell me that you’re dying or something.”

Eddie freezes and Hen’s jaw tenses.

“You’re not dying, right?”

“Not dying,” Eddie reassures, reaching down for one of the wine glasses because, yeah, wine is going to help him right now. Hen relaxes again so Eddie continues.

“I’ve been seeing Frank,” he says, in part to provide some context but mainly to delay the inevitable.

“I thought you two didn’t click?”

“Oh, we click,” Eddie chides. “That’s why I didn’t really like him the first time I saw him. He sorts of sees right through me.”

“I know how you feel. He’s a big reason why I was able to go back to work after the accident.”

Hen’s ambulance accident replays in Eddie’s head and the guilt of how he hadn’t really been there for her when it happened falls into the pit of his stomach. Eddie’s failed a lot of the people in his life. He can be better—he will be better.

“I should’ve been there for you, Hen. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t,” he apologizes.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. You had just lost your wife.”

Eddie shakes his head because he can’t just spill his heart out to Hen and walk away without her knowing that he wants to be there for her too.

“I should’ve been there. And I’m sorry,” he repeats, nerves escaping his body at the sincerity and steadiness of his voice. Hen smiles at him sadly.

“Thank you, Eddie. I appreciate that, but I have already forgiven you.”

Okay, Eddie can accept that.

“So you’ve been seeing Frank?” Hen redirects the conversation and if Eddie wasn’t so eager to spill the beans he might call her out on it. He and Hen are a lot alike, most of the 118 really. They spend their lives taking care of everyone but themselves.

“I have this secret,” Eddie begins and curiosity blooms across Hen’s face at his words, “and I’ve only told Frank. He thought it would be helpful to talk about it with somebody else who understands.”

Hen bites down on her lip and there’s a little sparkle in her eyes and—damnit—she totally already knows what Eddie is about to admit.

“And I would understand?” Hen asks gently.

Eddie nods, nervous again but he trusts Hen and she looks like she’s going to erupt into a smile and Eddie needs to let himself be happy, so he speaks.

“I sort of don’t really think … well, I know, I don’t think it. I know I’m not, uh, straight.”

Hen’s teeth let go of her lip and she’s contorted somewhere begin a smile and a chuckle and Eddie is overcome with a warm, fluttering feeling in his chest.

“And,” he continues but freezes. The coming out felt a lot easier than this next part. This is the part that’s scary because he cannot lose Buck, ever.

“And?” Hen prods sweetly, hopefully.

“And I might have feelings for someone who is not a woman.”

“You might?”

Hen’s amused and Eddie feels entirely too seen but in a way that feels easy and good. How she anticipates what he’s about to say Eddie will never understand, because even he didn’t know how he felt until very recently.

“I definitely do,” he confirms, taking an embarrassingly big gulp of his wine for a bit of liquid courage. “And it’s someone you know.”

“It’s Buck, huh?” she guesses and, even though he saw it coming, Eddie chokes slightly on his own breath.

For the briefest of moments, a sense of panic stirs around in his belly and anxiety pulses through his veins. Just as quickly, calm spreads across his skin and a weight lifts off his shoulders. Eddie just nods and Hen just smiles as him knowingly, fondly even.

He’s admitted to someone other than Frank that he’s in love with Buck and the world has not ended.

“I’m in love with him,” Eddie says as the steadiness returns to his voice, confidence slowly seeping back into his body.

“Oh, Eddie,” she practically sings and puts an open hand out in the center of the coffee table. Eddie puts his hand in hers. “Who isn’t, really? I would probably be in love with him too if I were ten years younger and not a lesbian.”

Eddie laughs and Hen squeezes his hand and he blames the blush rising up his face on the wine but it is, in reality, entirely Buck’s fault. His stupid, beautiful face and the way it makes Eddie feel.

“I don’t know what to do!” he exclaims and Hen giggles, actually giggles.

Her laughter has always been infectious and Eddie’s giggling too. Hen takes a sip of her wine and the worlds spins around them as Eddie continues to ramble, freely and easily.

“I can barely even be in the same room with him anymore, Hen. Like every time I see him I just want to die because he’s so … you know, you’ve met Buck. And he’s so pretty.”

A cackle explodes out of Hen’s mouth and Eddie would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so in love.

“He kissed me, Hen. On my forehead!”

“He kissed you?” Hen repeats the words as if they taste like honey.

“I thought I was going to die on the spot. He did it twice!”

“Have you told him how you’re feeling?”

Has he told him?

Contrary to popular belief, Eddie doesn’t actually have a death wish. So, no. Eddie has not told him and absolutely will not tell him. He cannot lose Buck and what they have. Eddie frantically shakes his head.

“He can never know. You cannot tell him.”

Hen’s head tilts to the side and her comforting gaze reminds Eddie of Buck—unsurprisingly because everything, lately, reminds Eddie of Buck.

“I’m so serious right now. Buck can’t know.”

“Why?”

Why?

Because Buck is straight and Buck has a crush on Lucy and he’s already enough of a burden on Buck as a friend. Knowing him, he’d probably go along with it even if he didn’t reciprocate Eddie’s feelings. Hell, he’d probably marry Eddie tomorrow if he got down on one knee and wouldn’t even think twice. Buck deserves to be as in love with someone as Eddie is with him.

Another smaller part of Eddie still can’t help but worry that if he tells Buck how he feels things will be awkward or Buck will completely reject him, laugh at him leave him. Eddie can’t function without Evan Buckley in his life. He’d rather spend his lifetime helplessly and hopelessly in love with Buck than lose him for even a minute.

“Because he doesn’t feel the same,” Eddie says after the silence grows too heavy. “So it’s easier to just say nothing.”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?”

“Ask? Hen, he likes Lucy; literally everybody knows that.”

“He kissed Lucy, what, a month ago? And nothing has happened since. They haven’t gone on a date or kissed again.”

“Buck doesn’t want to jump into anything too quickly like he used to do. Like he did with Taylor.”

“Did he tell you that?” Hen questions.

Eddie shakes his head. He just knows Buck and the way his friend’s mind works.

“Then you don’t actually know, Eddie. He can kiss someone and care for them and not want to be with them.”

“Like with me,” Eddie explains and Hen lets out a sigh of exasperation.

“Did you or did you not come here for my advice?”

Eddie shifts his weight around and takes another sip of his wine. He did in fact come here to confide in Hen and to hear her advice. He just doesn’t want to act on it.

There’s a microscopic part of Eddie that wonders if Buck could ever feel the same way, if he might actually love Eddie right back. Insecurity and uncertainly hide that little part of him down deep and Eddie refuses to let himself believe it. He can’t be hopeful because then he can be crushed by it. If he doesn’t tell Buck, Buck can never reject him.

By keeping his feelings a secret, Eddie can never be let down, can never have his heart shattered by Buck’s indifference or deterrence to his love.

“You know Buck would never judge you for this, right? He’s kind of the most loyal person on the face of the planet, and trust me I know some loyal people. And,” Hen says in a bit of a softer tone, “I know that boy adores you.”

The lightness and easiness of the conversation draws to a sudden halt and tears well up in Eddie’s eyes. As sick of crying as he is, Eddie can’t help the tears that begin to fall.

“Nobody has ever meant this much to me besides Christopher. I’m scared, Hen.”

Instead of responding, Hen stands and walks across the room to sit down beside Eddie. She holds onto his hand again and he falls against her side, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Loving someone is always going to be scary. And I think you already know that.”

Eddie knows all too well how terrifying it is to love. His love for Christopher makes him scared every single day of his life. What if something happens to him? What he fails him? Loving his parents. What if he disappoints them? What if they don’t love Eddie or who he is, who he’s allowing himself to be? Loving his team. What if he loses them? What if something happens and he can’t save them?

Loving in inherently terrifying. So, why would this be any different?

“I can’t lose him. Even if he…” Eddie’s question temporarily trails off as he sits back up and wipes the tears out of his eyes. “Even if did feel the same way. I love him so much that it would just be it for me. Like, I could never love anyone else as long as I live. He’s basically Christopher’s father and Chris really can’t lose another parent. I couldn’t handle it if we ever broke up. What if I’m not enough for him?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Eddie’s decided—he is going to tell Buck.

No matter how terrifying and overwhelming it feels, Eddie physically cannot hold it in anymore. He’s almost kissed Buck so many times, almost admitted to him in the quiet nights of Buck sleeping on his couch or even laying on the mattress beside him. Buck almost fell out of his rope harness on a call the other day and Eddie just about confessed his love over the radio for everyone to hear. If doesn’t say something soon he’s going to lose his mind.

So, Eddie is going to tell him.

Trailing behind Buck and Christopher as they walk through the predatory bird enclosures at the LA Zoo ends up being the moment that Eddie chooses. Christopher has an informational zoo directory in his hands and presses one of the buttons on the wall of the fencing to play an audio recording of the extensive detailing about whatever bird it is behind the metal fencing. Eddie isn’t paying any attention to the animals and is instead repeating his speech over and over in his head as Buck glances back to make sure Eddie is still nearby.

Buck pauses a few feet from where Chris is listening to the record and Eddie catches up to him, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He feels like he could throw up or maybe have a heart attack.

“Everything okay?”

Too perceptive for his own good, Buck just crinkles his face up in concern and Eddie tries to nonverbally reassure him but it doesn’t work and Buck glances back to check on Chris before tugging Eddie to the other side of the walk way.  

“What’s wrong? Do you feel panicked?”

Eddie shakes his head. Despite the panic and nerves rising up his chest, Eddie is not in a pre-panic attack type of panic. He’s in an about-to-confess-his-undying-love type of jitters.

“I have to tell you something really important.”

Eddie looks over to Chris so he doesn’t have to look at Buck’s beautiful and worried baby blue eyes. If things go south, Chris is going to be crushed.

“Before I say this,” Eddie begins, “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to be there for Christopher. I need you to promise me you won’t leave him behind.”

“Shit, Eddie. Are you okay?” Buck asks frantically reaching over for Eddie’s hands but Eddie takes a hesitant step back and collides against another metal enclosure gate. Buck looks horrified. “I promise. I will never, ever leave Christopher if I can help it. Now, tell me what’s going on. Are you okay?”

The thing is, Eddie has a whole speech planned out. He’s been editing it for the past week, perfecting his words and body language and everything. He had a plan. As he looks at Buck now his mind is empty of any coherent thought other than I love you, I love you; I’m in love with you.

“Eddie. Come on, man, you’re scaring me.”

“Please don’t hate me,” Eddie pleads.

Buck looks like he might actually explode and Eddie just needs to rip off the Band Aid and say it already.

“Eddie—”

“I love you.”

It’s not relief that washes across Buck’s face but confusion.

“What?”

Of course, he’s got to say it again. As if it wasn’t hard enough to admit it once.

“I love you, Evan.”

“I love you too; you know that, right? Just tell me what’s going on.”

Buck really doesn’t get it. Buck thinks that was just a preface for some huge, lingering threat but that was the confession. Eddie’s really going to have to spill his guts if it’s ever going to click in Buck’s brain. He’s going to have to say it.

“No, listen to me, Buck,” Eddie says as he shakes his head. “I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

For as deeply as he loves Buck, his friend is nothing but infuriating at this moment.

“Evan, listen to me! I am in love with you and I’m trying to tell you and you’re not listening!”

Eddie hadn’t even known his voice was raising and the couple of people around them glance over in their direction and Eddie’s face warms and Buck entire expression sort of … drops. Christopher doesn’t notice, still preoccupied with the birds.

“Please don’t hate me. I just had to tell you. You don’t even have to say anything and we can forget it forever; I just had to say it. I’m sorry—”

“Eddie, hey. I’m not upset,” Buck assures him, awkward still and expressionless as they stand with a foot of empty space between them. A scarlet blush overtakes Eddie’s entire body and the nausea sets back in because Buck isn’t upset but he also isn’t saying anything. Isn’t showing anything. Isn’t doing anything.

“Can you please say something?” Eddie begs.

“Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. I just…” Buck stutters, stepping forward and hesitantly hovering his hand out by Eddie’s. “Can I?” Eddie nods and Buck holds his left hand. “I thought something was wrong and I just need to process. Uh…”

As much as he wants to in that moment, Eddie can’t find it within himself to regret anything. He’s horrified, but he doesn’t regret saying how felt. The anticipation is killing him.

“I didn’t think you were—I didn’t know you felt that way,” Buck stammers out, his expression still unbelievably unreadable.

Eddie could run. Just grab Christopher and bolt out of the zoo and hide in Abuela’s house in El Paso forever. But this conversation is actually not as painful and scary as Eddie had expected it to be, and apparently Buck isn’t upset. He hasn’t flat out rejected Eddie yet or run away himself. So, Eddie puts on a brave face and waits for Buck to keep talking.  

“Just to be clear,” Buck says, standing completely still his step, “You don’t just love me like a friend.”

“I love you as so much more than a friend, Evan Buckley.”

All of the tension and stiffness in Buck pours out like a flood and Buck’s body relaxes, his lips purse, and then he breaks out in one of his signature all-encompassing smiles. His eyes sparkle and he takes a step forward. Eddie heart aches at the sight of him.

“I never, in my wildest dreams, thought you would say that. I mean, if I had known that was even an option,” Buck rambles as he steps impossibly closer until he’s filling all the empty space around Eddie and his hands settle on Eddie’s hips.

Is this really happening right now?

What is happening? What is Buck even feeling? Is he reading too much into this? How could he not, Buck’s got a grip on his hips and his face is so close to Eddie’s and Buck’s even blushing a little bit. Mr. Confident, cocky, firehose Evan Buckley is blushing and Eddie might melt into a puddle.

“Buck?” Eddie asks as Buck’s fingers dance across the fabric of his shirt and there’s virtually no space between them at all.

Buck's shy little smile slips and a smug, cool grin plasters across his face. Buck has never looked at Eddie like that before. It’s the look and the body language Eddie has only seen when Buck was talking some girl up in a bar or with Taylor and now Buck’s looking at him like that. Like he’s hungry.

“Do you…” Eddie starts to ask but uncertainly pulls the rest of his question back down his throat and he feels—shy, maybe? Buck’s hold on his hip tightens and Eddie pulled closer somehow.

“Of course I love you too, Eddie. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Oh.

Eddie doesn’t—well—yeah, he doesn’t know how to even begin to process that. To accept it. That Buck feels the same way. That Buck has known for all this time. That this is even happening at all.

“You hated me?”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

Dios, this man is going to be the death of him.

Buck leans in, his lips just about to meet Eddie’s when suddenly Eddie remembers the weight of this, the importance of what they’re about to do. About to become.

He puts a finger to Buck’s lips and gently pushes him back so Eddie can speak. Buck’s face scrunches up and Eddie starts to talk before Buck can doubt himself, can doubt how Eddie feels.

“If we do this,” Eddie says, as if they’re not already leaning in to kiss each other, “then I need it to be serious.”

Buck’s brows furrow as his confusion deepens, so Eddie clarifies.

“I’m all in, okay? This—you and me—this is it for me. I can’t lose you and Christopher can’t lose you either. If that’s not what you want, then I need you to tell me and we’ll stop before we even start. We can just be friends and forget about—”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah.”

“This is it for me too.”

Before he can second guess himself or freak out or spiral, Eddie surges in to kiss the love of his life. He draws his hands to the back of Buck’s head and Buck kisses back as if Eddie’s lips are the oxygen he needs to breath. It’s wet and sloppy but probably the best kiss Eddie has ever felt. Buck can kiss, okay? Eddie hasn’t kissed that many people, so he doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, but Buck might be the best kisser in the universe. He doesn’t quite whine when they break, but his heart stings a bit at the distance until he sees the look on Buck’s face.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Buck confesses with a loving laugh.

Eddie doesn’t try to hold back his grin or contain the heat that flares across his cheeks. Buck just kissed him. On the mouth.

Buck loves him.

Buck is all in.

“Chris is going to flip when he finds out,” Eddie whispers into the quiet little space between his lips and Buck’s.

“Can I be the one to tell him?” Buck pleads, resting his forehead down against Eddie’s and tugging at Eddie’s hips until he’s nestled in Buck’s arms.

Eddie presses his face into Buck’s shoulder and dusts a kiss against Buck’s neck, hiding in in collar bone and closing his eyes. Buck’s arm wraps securely around his shoulders and they sway enough that Eddie kind of feels like he’s floating.

“Come on, you’re already his favorite,” Eddie teases. Buck squeezes his shoulder and kisses the crown of Eddie’s head.

“Alright, alright. We’ll tell him together.”

Eddie nods into Buck’s warm skin and breathes the moment in, the smell of Buck’s cologne, the little California breeze, the pounding of his heart in his chest.

He wants this, wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything for himself in his life. Buck and Chris and their little family. He wants this forever and, apparently, Buck wants that too.

“Together,” Eddie agrees.

Christopher is, deservedly, the first person they tell. He panics at first, shuts himself in his room and paces for almost an hour while Buck and Eddie sit cross-legged in the hallway. Eventually, Christopher unlocks his bedroom door and sits down beside them.

“Are you going to leave like everyone else Dad loves?” Chris had asked and Eddie had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from gasping. Buck sighs knowingly and Eddie remembers the conversation Buck had told him about when Christopher had run away to his house when Eddie and Ana got together.

Eddie blames himself for Chris’ fear of being abandoned. How could he not? Chris gets it from him, has been abandoned by him. And maybe Eddie’s still scared too. Scared of not being enough for Buck. Scared he’ll leave like everyone else. It’s something he and Buck have whispered about in the quiet of the night, with only bedsheets and starlight between them.

“I’m not going anywhere, Chris. I promise I’ll always want to be right here.”

Once they reassured him that Buck would never intentionally leave—which helped settled Eddie’s mind just as much as Chris’—the boy came around instantly and told Buck that he could clear out some of his dresser drawers if Buck wants to move in.

Buck does move in, but it’s a few months later once Eddie and Buck fine tune the rhythm of their new relationship dynamic, make sure it’s working out and they’re not rushing or diving into shallow waters.

Buck and Eddie go on a few dates before they tell anyone at the 118, to make sure again that they’re doing this right, that they’re being responsible. Neither of them is willing to mess this up before it begins.

They tell Bobby first because they sort of have to. He congratulates them and then they spend about an hour going over paperwork and Bobby and the department’s expectations for how they are to behave if they want to continue to work under the same roof. When Buck tries to form a contingency plan about transferring to the 136, Eddie counters. Eddie loves the 118 but Buck lives for the 118, it’s his world. If anything happens, if someone needs to leave one day, Eddie knows it will be him and not Buck.

Hen squeals and Chimney is dumbstruck. Ravi doesn’t seem phased in the least and Lucy is a bit standoffish in a way Eddie can only pinpoint as jealous. It ignites something in Eddie’s heart and he holds tightly onto Buck’s hand as Hen claps him on the back and Buck hides his blush in Eddie’s hair, kissing him softly. The world spins on around them and Eddie soaks up the love and safety of Buck’s embrace and the support of their team.

Maddie is waiting on Eddie’s front step when they get home from that shift and launches herself at Buck.

“It’s about time!” she exclaims and she drags all six foot two of Buck down into her arms. Eddie could swear she even lifts him up into the air ever so slightly. When she finally pulls away she pulls Eddie in just as tightly. Eddie can tell instantly where Buck learned how to hug because Maddie’s hug is warm and steady, nurturing and comforting.

“Take good care of my little brother, okay?” she whispers against his hear.

“Always,” he promises and she pats his back gratefully, beaming at them both and inviting herself in for dinner because Buck’s making gnocchi and it’s her favorite. She helps Christopher with his homework and they collectively drink four bottles of Pinot Grigio by the time Chimney’s car is pulling into Eddie’s driveway to pick her up.

“We could have a joint wedding!” a drunk Buck sings when Chimney puts Maddie’s arm over his shoulders and hauls her up onto her feet.

“A double wedding!” Maddie exclaims gleefully and Eddie flushes when Chimney shoots him an exasperated look.

“You’re drunk,” he concludes.

“And you’re cute,” Maddie responds, burying her face in his shoulder. “Let’s have another baby.”

“Goodnight, Maddie,” Evan says with wide little-brother scandalized eyes and Eddie can’t help but laugh. Chimney wishes them a good night and makes Buck promise that he isn’t planning to drive home.

“Let’s have another baby,” Eddie teases when they’re out of the room but Buck’s bedroom eyes take over his expression and, well, Eddie follows him down the hall.

Miraculously, they manage to find a decent parking spot at LAX and Buck and Eddie follow Christopher’s lead through the crowded parking lot until they make their way to the Arrivals terminal.

Even Buck leans up on the tips of his toes to look across the sea of people waiting around baggage claim. His gaze settles on two familiar faces and Buck settles back down on his heels and reaches out to hold Eddie’s hand.

“If it all goes to shit, I have family in Mexico we can stay with,” Eddie reminds Buck for the tenth time, despite the fact that they could easily hide out in Los Angeles with their friends.

“Hey,” Buck says, bumping their hands against Eddie’s hip, “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Eddie nods, gulps down a pocket of air, and smiles as he makes eye contact with his parents across the room.

Chris shuffles forward and Ramon leaps across the room and pulls him grandson in for a hug. With her husband occupied, Helena meets Eddie first. Eddie drops his hand from Buck’s and falls against his mother. Her hug is as comforting as ever and he lingers in the embrace for as long as he can.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he admits and she squeezes his shoulders.

“Nowhere we’d rather be, mijo.”

When she pulls away, Eddie watches her reach out for Christopher as Ramon swaps places and tugs Eddie into a firm hug.

It’s been so long since he’s hugged his dad, really hugged him. Ramon holds him tight against his chest and it’s enough to make Eddie feel like a little kid again.

“I missed you, Dad.”

“I missed you too, son. Now are you going to properly introduce me to your boyfriend?”

The word doesn’t exactly sound comfortable, but it does sound practiced and lacks the disdain that Eddie was expecting. He pulls out of Ramon’s hug and steps back to stand directly beside Buck.

“You’ve met Evan,” he says to both parents and Ramon puts out his right hand for Buck to shake. Buck does so, smiling warmly but not as openly as he usually does. He’s nervous and it’s probably because Eddie has done nothing but fret over this visit since Helena had booked the tickets months ago.

“So good to see you again, Buck,” Helena chimes in once the awkward handshake is over and she wraps him up in a hug. Buck’s smile is softer and he squeezes a hand between her shoulder blades before offering to carry her roller board suitcase.

Helena and Buck chat about the flight went and the week ahead as they walk on either side of Christopher. Eddie walks beside his father, who refuses to let Eddie help him with his suitcase, and it’s the most at ease Eddie has felt with his parents in thirty years.

The following summer, on Christopher’s first day out of school and Buck and Eddie’s day off, construction starts on the inground pool in the little fenced in backyard of the bungalow they bought just down the street from the Wilson’s house. Christopher is facetiming with Abuela in the living room and Buck and Eddie sit on their Adirondack chairs on the patio, staring at the thirty-thousand-dollar ditch that will one day become a heated pool.

Moving boxes litter every corner of the house but they’ve done enough for the day.

Buck sits sideways on his chair so his feet rest in Eddie’s lap instead of against the stone ground and Eddie massages his feet while the sun sets against the horizon. The air is crisp, early enough in the summer that the heat is not yet sweltering, and birds sing above them in the trees. Buck still needs to hangs the strings of lights he’d ordered for the patio, but the starlight does the trick for now.

The ring on Eddie’s finger glistens under the light of the moon and sky, and he reaches out a hand for Buck to take.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

Dios, life is good.

“I love you more.”