Chapter Text
When Eddie starts therapy all he has is rage. There are no words just a firestorm of anger. He is mad at Shannon for dying, mad at the universe for making it so he could never have a moment of peace. Most of his waking hours are spent with worry, worry about Chris’ future, worry that he is fucking him up beyond repair, worry that he is failing him by not having a steady partner to nurture him while he pulls 24-hour shifts. Mostly he is mad at himself. Mad that he is stuck in a vicious cycle of PTSD nightmares, self-deprecation and sabotage.
But when the anger subsides, something else takes hold, a deep yearning, to do better, to be better. He desires, yearns even, to connect with the part of him he was sure died in the deserts of Afghanistan and again in the sterile hospital room where Shannon left him. It is the part of him that hopes, the part of him that believes there is a future waiting for him in a distant somewhere. A future where he is happy, where Chris is happy. He used to think it was back in El Paso with Shannon, but she left, taking along with her the version of himself that he molded to fit next to her, leaving a wide blank space in it’s place.
Eddie is itching all week to get to his session. He never imagined himself being the type to not only willingly see a therapist, but look forward to it. This week is even more urgent, he found himself restless, a constant familiar ache making its home in his chest. It is a monster that is never satisfied, one that tells him he is never content, never enough. He is trapped inside the walls he’s carefully constructed brick by brick. That wall stands tall, protecting him, protecting Christopher and their little world. That is until a certain someone starts to chisel his way in, sometimes delicately taking a brick at a time, and others smashing a large section open with a sledge hammer. By the time Tuesday rolls around Eddie is hurtling toward a panic attack sending him rushing into Frank’s office
“I think there’s something broken inside me. I don’t- I don’t know how to put it into words. It’s like there’s this big hole where I should be.” Eddie ventures to explain, clasping his hands over the center of his chest. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be or who I could be. I know it should feel like this opportunity to create something new, but instead, I just feel directionless.” He laments, picking at the balls of pilled lint on the arm of the couch.
Frank is silent for only a moment, but it seems to stretch on for an eternity. Eddie knows it’s a therapy technique meant to give him time to process, but it still irritates the shit out of him every time. He tries to ignore the clock’s incessant ticking in the background, the sound providing a constant reminder that their time is running out. He lets out a sarcastic huff of a laugh at that idea. Time is always slipping away from him, he’s always showing up late to the realizations everyone else is glaringly aware of, feeling like he’s desperately grasping at threads to keep up.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Frank prompts, sitting back in his chair and setting his notepad aside and balancing it on the arm of his chair. Eddie knows he’s on the verge of a break through whenever Frank does that. It’s like he is bracing himself to receive and hold whatever big emotions Eddie is on the brink of releasing.
“I guess, I’m just always the last one to know what’s going on with me. My head is such a fucking mess that I can’t get a grasp on what I’m thinking or feeling until I’ve already dug myself in too deep. And lately, I keep thinking that because I’m so lost, I’m going to die alone.” Eddie tries to explain, sighing when Frank gives him a look that means, you’re going to have to elaborate.
“Like, with Shannon, she came tearing into my life and we were so young. I never questioned our relationship, just went in headfirst because it felt like it was what I should be doing. It wasn’t until a year into our marriage when I realized, I didn’t even know if I wanted what we had, the marriage, the house, a baby. So, I hid from her, I stayed in fucking Afghanistan to avoid my wife and my son. That’s how unprepared I was. I would rather have stayed in an active war zone and died alone in the desert, then go home to them because I didn’t know how to be a husband, or a dad.” He breathed out with a shake of his head.
“Well I’d say you found your footing pretty quickly with Christopher.” Frank supplies, trying to help.
“Not really, it was bumpy, my parents nearly took custody of him. Then when, she, when Shannon, came back in my life, I thought maybe now, maybe this time it’ll work. But it was more of the same. It never felt right, it always felt as if I was forcing an idea rather than what I actually wanted.”
“Okay, let’s explore that further. Do you feel that’s something that happens to you frequently?” Frank poses, sitting back in his chair and motioning with his hand for Eddie to continue.
“I don’t know about frequently, but yeah it’s happened more than once.” Eddie starts, his chest starting to constrict, his heart beating rapidly as he keeps digging deep into his memory, the disappointments he caused a nearly unbearable and crushing weight.
“Breathe. You are safe here. You don’t have to hold back. But if you need a break, you just let me know.” Frank says calmly, walking to the corner of his office to retrieve a cold bottle of water. “Here, this will help.” He adds, passing it off to Eddie.
“Thank you.” Eddie nods, sipping the water slowly and then pressing the cool plastic against his chest, the sensation slowly brining his pulse back to a normal rate. “Sorry this is, embarrassing.” He adds, closing his eyes and taking two deep breaths.
“It’s all part of the process, it’s not easy unpacking these kinds of emotions. Take your time.” Frank nods understandingly, picking up his notepad and writing down a few notes while Eddie works to steady his breathing.
“It happened again with Ana. From the very start. When I met her, I didn’t really feel anything, there was no spark or big moment of realization. She was nice enough and she spoke kindly about Christopher, which was nice. But outside that, she was just another teacher. It wasn’t until Carla said something that I even registered that I should find her pretty. Then it just happened, she sort of fit herself into my life.” Eddie pauses, remembering his first panic attack, the sharp pain in his chest, the way his stomach dropped when the tailor mistook Ana for Christopher’s mom.
“I feel like a terrible person because, I don’t think I was ever attracted to either of them, at least not in the way I was supposed to be. I don’t think I felt any sort of romantic bond either. Definitely not with Ana. Shannon, I don’t know, I think I did love her. But maybe in a more platonic way. To be honest, I’ve spent years being attracted to no one. Am I broken?” He chokes back the tears that always come when he thinks of the loneliness and confusion that gnaws at his emotions until they’re so raw they ache and tear him apart bit by bit.
“Well there’s nothing wrong with not feeling sexual attraction, there’s nothing wrong with being asexual. If that’s how you identify. There’s also nothing wrong with being alone if that’s what you want.” Frank supplies with patient smile.
“No, I-I don’t think so. Well I used to think maybe until recently. There is someone. He’s the only person I feel myself with, I make sense with him and I think I might be feeling some sexual attraction to him.” Eddie tries to ignore the fact that he’s blushing furiously and keeps going.
“I’ve been dating recently, going out with women I’ve met on dating apps, ones my Tía Pepa sets me up with, and honestly, it’s not fun. It’s exhausting. The best part of the dates I’m going on is coming home to him. He’s always there waiting for me with a beer and ready to listen. And he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I think, I think I’m in love with him and that maybe I’m gay. Is it possible to become gay at this point in my life?” He says aloud, suddenly feeling lighter just knowing it’s not a secret anymore.
“Yes, and maybe you’ve always been who you are and you just didn’t know it, didn’t let yourself know it. There’s this concept, compulsory heterosexuality. The idea is that all of us are expected by heterosexual by default, we are raised with traditional gender roles and ideas of who we should and shouldn’t be attracted to. Then we sort of fall in line and try be good, try to fit these standards. Sometimes that means pushing down truths about ourselves that we don’t feel we’re ready or allowed to face.” Frank pushes the tissue box forward as Eddie discretely dabs at his eyes with his shirt sleeve.
“Yeah, I think, I think maybe I always knew. I just-it wasn’t safe. My mom and dad, they raised me Catholic. We went to mass and I learned that I was expected to be a good Catholic boy and grow up and marry a good catholic girl and have babies, the white picket fence, all that. Then there was the military, and you know that definitely wasn’t a safe place to be anything other than straight. I had a guy in my unit, he was bisexual, it somehow got out and they just rode him about it constantly, it was horrible. So yeah. I guess I haven’t felt safe. Not until now.” The words come easy to Eddie, they flow as if he’s always known, because maybe he has.
“What changed?” Frank asks curiously, setting his notepad aside.
“The 118, they’re not just my team. They’re my family in a way my family never was. I don’t have to be perfect with them, they all stay even when I’m a total mess.” Eddie smiles thoughtfully remembering the time Buck helped him patch up his wall, the time Bobby told him he was allowed to have a life outside work, Hen inviting Christopher over to play with Denny when he was knee deep in grief over Shannon, Chim making him laugh on the especially hard shifts with his increasingly terrible pop culture references. He lets his mind drift before realizing, he has to tell them, all of them.
“Shit, my family! What do I tell them? How do I- Christopher, what do I say to him?” Suddenly he’s very much back in his body, his heart racing and his mouth dry.
“You tell him the truth, your truth.”