Archive of Our Own

It’s hard to keep everything in the right order. Eddie is trying, desperately trying, it’s three AM and he’s still at the hospital despite being cleared to leave hours ago and he’s trying to wrap his head around the sequence of events that got him here. Chimney is still in surgery, he’s here with Maddie, but that’s a reason more than an event. He’s here because Buck collapsed on the linoleum hospital tile, but that came later, after- 

The overpass collapsed, that could be first, though they were working a call before that. Eddie was in the camper van checking for a propane leak after it had crashed, and then he was trapped in it, while somewhere underneath him- 

Buck is trembling next to him, whole body shaking, at least a 7 on the Richter scale, but that’s happening right now, here in the three AM hospital. Earlier-

Buck had pulled them out. Hen first, Eddie is pretty sure, or maybe the girl from the van. Blinding agony as his best friend had held his hand and dragged him to safety. And then Chimney. And then-

Eddie has never heard Buck make a sound like the one he made, down on his knees. A soul cracking open. Eddie has felt that sound, years ago in the back of an ambulance deciding to delay intubation, last year making phone calls to the unexpectedly dead, months ago looking up the ladder in a rain storm and seeing-

Hours ago. Eddie thinks this is what they’ve all sounded like, all night, ever since-

“Eddie.” 

Buck’s voice is raspy, almost unintelligibly quiet, but Eddie immediately turns to him as well as he can with several broken ribs in a cramped waiting room chair. “I’m right here.” 

“You should go home,” he near whispers in flat monotone. “Chris is probably worried.”

Eddie gestures at the clock. 3:26, now. “Christopher’s asleep. And I called him. I’m not leaving.” He’s not sure he could even drive, at this halfway state between a dose of strong painkillers and unadulterated agony, but he wouldn’t go even if he could.

“Where’s Athena?”

Eddie has to swallow several times before he can answer, his eyes hot and wet. “Hen. She’s with Hen.” 

Buck nods, two slow movements like any action at all pains him. Eddie isn’t sure how literal or metaphorical that statement is, and wants to tell him again to let a doctor look at him, but they’ve had that argument several times already tonight and Buck had a look in his eyes like- like Eddie doesn’t even know what, but whatever would have happened if he’d kept pushing would not have been good, so he’d let it drop and stuck close to his side. "She shouldn't be alone."

Bobby Nash died alone under a pile of rubble today. 

That's what happened. That's the thing that happened. After they'd all been pulled out and before Buck went down like a puppet with cut strings. Eddie doesn't know how he stayed upright so long, really. When Athena had screamed (another impossible, unimaginable sound) Buck had stayed upright, had spoken to her so gently, had got her to come away from the body so they could get Bobby out, bring him home. Eddie could only stand there choking on his own spit, every breath fiery agony, uselessly pressing the button to inflate the bags as Buck, with devastating care, removed the rubble around the man who had become his father. Buck's spine was straight and his eyes were clear as he carried Bobby to the gurney, and Eddie was nearly sick at the image his mind overlayed on the scene; Bobby Nash cradling his son's corpse in a rainstorm. But Buck came back, and Bobby is somewhere a few floors down, a room next to a hallway Eddie barely remembers because the only detail that stuck was the weight of the bag of Shannon's things someone had handed to him. He tears up again, in the plastic chair, wondering if Athena had been handed a bag, wondering if it will be infinitely worse because all Eddie had was that bag and Athena will have to go home to an entire life they had shared, his clothes in the closet, his things all over their house, food he cooked in the fridge. 

Eddie didn’t realize he was staring at the floor until Maddie’s shoes appear in his line of vision. He looks up, and beside him Buck’s head moves in tandem. Maddie looks exhausted, wrecked as the rest of them, but there’s relief in there too.

“He’s out of surgery,” she whispers. “It went well.” 

Buck is up again, somehow, wrapping his sister in his arms. For a multitude of reasons Eddie can't stand up to join them. Buck's hip is near enough to reach, and Eddie feels an impulse to hook fingers into his pocket, seek childlike comfort. He doesn't do that either. He just waits, trying to find a new way to breathe in a world so different from the one he woke up in.

Eventually Maddie pulls back. "You two should go home."

"Maddie-"

"Buck," she cuts him off firmly, wiping her eyes dry. “There’s going to be- there will be a lot to do. I’m okay here. Go home and at least shower, try to rest. Please.”

For a second Eddie thinks Buck is going to fight, but then his shoulders seem to slump without his body moving. His sister said please. “I’ll be back. I’ll come back.” 

“Okay. There’s no hurry.” He’s so much taller than her, but he bends automatically so she can kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

For a second Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll be able to say it back, but he does.

They wait for a ride together. They don’t have their cars, they came here in ambulances, engines. Bobby Nash died a few hours ago and Eddie’s standing here waiting for a fucking Uber. He can see stars in the sky. It doesn’t seem like he should be able to, and he starts choking again the longer he looks, so he turns his eyes instead to Buck. His jaw is clenched, his limbs stiff. Eddie wants to beg him, one more time, to submit to a doctor’s attention, but he’s afraid of the snap that comes after being stretched this taught, and he’s more afraid that the pain Buck is in is not something that can be fixed by a medical doctor. His phone apathetically informs him that his driver is two minutes away. 

“I think I have clothes for you,” Eddie says. He knows he does, he’s not sure why he obscures the fact that Buck has at least two full outfits that live at the Diaz house, for late nights or unexpected sleepovers. “You can-“

“I’m going to the loft.” He sounds so hollow that it hollows Eddie out in turn. Eddie must make a face of absolute non-understanding, because Buck waves his phone a little, his own ride share drawing near. He looks like he’s going to say more but nothing further comes, and Eddie stands there dumbfounded. 

“Buck-“

Buck takes a step back, nodding behind Eddie where his car is pulling up. You shouldn’t be alone. He moves forward, grabs his arm. “Come home with me. Please.”

The wild thing is gone from Buck’s eyes, blue gone dead and flat. “I have to go to the loft. Kameron’s still there. I need clothes.” He frees his wrist from Eddie’s grasp and scrubs that hand over his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow- or… I’ll see you. Go to Christopher. I’ll be there when I can.”

You shouldn’t be alone. I said please, but I’m not your sister, and I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you you’re loved. “Text me, just- let me know you got home safe.” 

Buck nods, and they hug but it’s only a brief collision of limbs, and Eddie climbs in the car.

Collision. Collapse (freeway). Rescue. Recovery (Bobby, his skin already cooling). Collapse (Buck, on the hospital floor). Recovery, as Chimney pulled through surgery. And now: Eddie drives home in a car alone. Events, in order. A solid timeline, in the end, does not offer any comfort.

-

Eddie doesn’t find out Buck delivered Kameron’s baby for almost a full day after it happened. When the Uber dropped him off he’d stumbled to his bed and passed out for five blissfully unaware hours. The agony of his ribs upon waking robbed him of any moments of plausible deniability about anything that happened the day before. He checks his phone with one hand cradled to his chest. There’s confirmation that Peppa got Chris off to school okay, and that Carla will be picking him up. There are two messages from Buck.

(4:15 AM) got home

(8:36 AM) can you check on maddie 

Eddie checks the current time. Almost an hour has passed since the last message. He moves as carefully as he can to the bathroom to find ibuprofen before he replies, leaning heavily on the sink and tossing the pills back. 

(9:28 AM) yeah gonna shower then I’ll go

(9:29 AM) are you ok

He sets his phone next to the toothpaste and tries not to listen for the responding text chime as he showers. Hopefully Buck is sleeping, but Eddie thinks it’s more likely he’s gone to Hen or Athena. It’s his way: help others to the point of personal collapse. He’s drying his hair when he hears the response come in.

(9:38 AM) no

(9:38 AM) im fine

(9:38 AM) please check on maddie 

Eddie drips onto the tile, trying to inhale and exhale right. What do you mean? Are you alone? Are you okay? But Buck said please, so.

(9:40 AM) yeah. Let me know if you need anything

Eddie is not, technically, cleared to drive, but climbing behind the wheel of his truck instead of waiting for another ride feels like some tiny semblance of control over the world around him and he gladly ignores doctors orders for it. He stops for coffee and a couple of breakfast burritos, hoping he remembers Maddie’s order right. The look on her face when he hands them over makes him think she’d have been happy with burnt sludge and rocks as long as it came from someplace other than the hospital cafeteria. 

“How’s he doing?” Eddie nods towards Chimney as he settles gingerly back into a too familiar chair. 

“Doctors say everything looks fine, no sign of infection. They said it was a pretty routine stab wound,” she laughs, a frightened sound. “He woke up a little earlier but was pretty out of it.”

Eddie nods, drinking his own coffee, trying to work up an appetite for the food. “Buck check in?”

He tries not to read anything into the pinched look on her face. He’s sure he looks plenty pinched himself. “He told me you were going to come check in. Is he with Athena?”

Eddie nods. “Or at the loft. He said… he was okay.” He tries not to say it like a question, like if they both believe it it will be true. For a split second he thinks he’ll get up, go break down a door if he has to, but then Chimney begins to stir. 

“Hey,” Maddie says, soft, leaning in. Eddie isn’t sure if he should give them privacy or if fleeing would be rude. Chimney waves a little when he sees him, so he stays seated.

“Hey,” Chim’s voice is a little raspy, but strong. “Why'd you look so worried? I’m indestructible.” He grins, gesturing towards bandages and sutures. “Tell cap to give me a few days, I’ll be right back out there.”

Fuck . Eddie can’t help the way his body slams back into the chair like the words are a physical blow. Fuck. Chimney had been hurt bad, they’d got him on a stretcher and sent away from the scene as soon as they possibly could, he hadn’t been there. He went right into surgery. He doesn’t know. Chimney is grabbing Maddie’s hand, eyes growing wide at whatever he’s sees on Eddie’s face, and Eddie tries to take a deep breath and put on his professional voice, the calm and soothing one they use to tell someone the worst possible news.

“Chimney-“

“Fuck!” Chimney tries to sit up, and Maddie pushes him back down. “How? Who?”

Eddie puts his hand on Chimney’s knee, for whatever useless comfort it will provide. “Bobby. He was- got buried under it all. You were gone by the time we found him and it- he was already- it was too late.”

“Fuck,” Chimney says again, voice high and tight. Eddie hangs onto his knee, Maddie hangs onto his hand, and Eddie can’t remember if he cried yesterday but he’s doing it now. “What do we do?”

Eddie’s voice shakes as he says “I don’t know.”

-

What Eddie does is bring food to Athena. 

Well, first what he does is text Buck. Tells him Maddie is okay, types and deletes a message about telling Chimney a dozen times before he gives up and just says he’s okay too. He’s about to ask how Buck is when a message comes through from Hen.

(11:48 AM) Eddie I’m so sorry to ask you this but would you be able to bring food over to Athena’s? Not from one of the regular places, if you can. Sorry again, I can order delivery if it’s too much to do.

(11:49 AM) don’t apologize, of course I will

He winds up at the second closest taqueria to his house. He usually goes to the closer one for convenience, but the tamales here are almost (but of course not quite) as good as his abuela’s, and he winds up here when he’s seeking comfort. More importantly, he’s pretty sure that while he’s been here with Buck and Chris, Bobby’s never eaten at the place. He gets a half dozen of every kind they have, not sure if Athena prefers chicken, pork, poblano. They’ll be easy to reheat, they keep well, minimal set up to eat. Buck had brought him a lot of them, last year when he was living with holes in his wall and his head and food had been difficult. 

The ride to Athena’s house is uncomfortable, and Eddie wishes he’d brought the ibuprofen with him. It’s probably too soon to take more, but keeping his hand up on the steering wheel has started to become a little excruciating by the time he pulls into the driveway. He turns off the truck but then just sits there. Bobby’s car isn’t in the driveway. It’s probably back at the station, waiting for him to pick it up and come home. He takes shaky breaths and clenches his fist into the fabric of his sweatpants until he’s not crying and can go to the door. 

He has to bite his tongue hard to not start right back up again when May is the one who opens it. God. She should be at school. This shouldn’t have happened. She shouldn’t have to be putting on the brave face she’s wearing. Eddie swallows. “If you- if anyone wants something else, I can get it. I just thought this would be easy.”

She takes the bag, not even looking to see what’s in it. “This is fine. Thank you, Eddie.” She’s got her professional voice on too, the one she used to talk to people having the worst day of their lives as they waited for help. Eddie tries to think if he ever told her how good she was at the job. 

“It’s no problem.” She’s 20 years old. Her father is dead. “May, if you need anything, please call me. I know people say that, and it doesn’t feel like you can take them up on it, but I swear it’s okay. Anything. It’s okay.”

The shield cracks a little, and Eddie puts a hand on her arm until she can nod and step back. “Thank you.”

He nods, and there’s nothing else to say that won’t take too long to get out, so she closes the door and he goes back to the truck. 

The Jeep isn’t here. Buck hasn’t responded to his texts. 

His ribs are on fire.

-

Next Eddie goes home, because he’s pretty sure he might pass out if he doesn’t get more painkillers immediately and if anyone sees him like this they won’t let him back out again, and he needs to be able to help or he’ll lose his fucking mind. He settles onto the couch with a pathetic little moan while he waits for them to kick in, ice pack held loosely to his side. His phone is low on battery, but he doesn’t think he can get back up to find his charger. It feels absolutely bizarre to be sitting in his living room in bright daylight. The weather is nice outside. It should be nighttime. It should be raining. He texts Buck.

(1:14 PM) brought food to Athena. May’s there

(1:16 PM) hen too i think

(1:17 PM) im home but i can bring you food if you need

He doesn’t mean to nod off but he guesses his body didn’t give him much of a choice, and he startles awake when he hears the front door open. It’s after two, and Bobby Nash has been dead for 24 hours, and Eddie’s son is home from school. 

“Dad!” Chris shouts when he sees him, rushing to the couch. Carla calls a reminder to be careful of his injuries but both of them ignore the warning, Eddie pulling him up onto the couch, holding him close. 

“Hey,” he whispers into his hair. “Hey, kid.”

“I love you,” Christopher says, quick like the words have been waiting to get out all day. His arms are tight around Eddie’s neck. “You got hurt. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be okay. I broke some bones,” he puts his hand on his side. “So I’m not going back to work for a bit. But I’ll be okay. I love you too, so much.”

“Where’s Buck?”

Eddie feels like he’s choking again, making eye contact with a worried Carla over Christopher’s head. Where is Buck. He’s always here when things are bad. “He’s…”

“Did he get hurt too?” Chris pulls back in a panic, and Eddie winces at the stab of pain the movement causes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He’s not hurt, mijo, he’s not, he’s okay. He’s-“ Eddie isn’t sure what to say, but Chris isn’t a stranger to death, and he doesn’t want to hide this from him. “Something really bad happened at work yesterday.”

“The road fell.”

“I’m sorry,” Carla says, eyebrows furrowed. “We tried to- but it was all over the news.”

“It’s okay.” Eddie runs his hand through Chris’s hair once, and then over and over. “It fell. A few of us got hurt. And, uh-“ and fuck his voice is immediately warbling all over the place. “Bobby. He got hurt really bad, before we could find him. He’s-“ suck in as much oxygen as you can, Diaz, “He died, Chris. Bobby- Bobby died.” 

He does get out the words, but helpless, wracking sobs follow them. He tries not to clutch Chris too tight, tries not to hurt either of them as he falls apart. There’s a hand on his shoulder, Carla, and Chris’s arms are around his neck again. He’s sobbing like a kid, blubbering, taking big stupid gulps of air and there’s not a damn thing he can do to make it stop. He thinks he might be apologizing out loud, because Carla keeps saying “it’s alright, it’s okay,” like it's a response more than a comfort. It just keeps going until it doesn’t, and he can scrub at his face and breathe a little more evenly. 

“Sorry,” he tells Chris, kissing the side of his head. “Sorry. I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared,” Chris shakes his head where it’s tucked into Eddie’s shoulder. “You said we tell each other if we feel sad. I’m glad you told me.” 

Eddie can only nod or the tears will start again. He rubs a hand up and down Chris’s spine, trying to soothe them both. 

“Is Buck sad too? Where- why isn’t he here?”

Why isn’t he here. Eddie’s phone lights up when the minute changes and he can see there are no new messages. “Buck is…” Buck isn’t responding to his texts. “Carla, can you stay a little longer? I want to- I’m going to check on- I’m gonna bring Buck here, okay? He’s sad, too.”

He shouldn’t be alone. Eddie shouldn’t have left him alone.

-

He sent a warning that he was coming over before he flung himself back into the truck and nearly ran several red lights on his way across town, and it, too, is unanswered by the time Eddie pulls up to Buck’s apartment building. The elevator takes so fucking long and all Eddie can see is the wild look in Buck’s eyes, and the feeling that’s been building in his chest all day that he suddenly realizes is terror claws it’s way up his throat. He barely feels his ribs as he runs down the hall, and his hands are shaking almost too bad to unlock the door because he has no idea what he’s going to find inside. He’s frightened of the thing he thinks he might find inside. 

And god he almost collapses when he sees the couch. His stomach falls through the soles of his feet and he lets out an animal sound because there’s blood on the cushions. But- it’s not a lot of blood, and he doesn’t think it would look like this if-

There’s a noise from the bathroom and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s ever moved so fast. 

Buck is here, his eyes are open, breathing. Eddie is on his knees in front of him before he knows how he got there, running his hands over his bloody chest, his arms. 

“Are you hurt? Buck. Are you hurt?”

It takes several terrifying seconds for Buck to focus on him. “Eddie. No.”

“What happened?” His voice is sort of squeaking as he forces it out. “Did you- did you-“

Buck’s fingers curl into Eddie’s shirt near the hem. He looks lost. “Kameron. Had the-“ he nods his head back towards the rest of the loft, the couch. “In labor when I got home. Happened fast.”

Eddie can hardly comprehend this. It’s an impossible fact. Buck cannot have gone home from leaving someone dead in the hospital to deliver a baby. “Is she- is the baby-“

“Perfect,” Buck says, and then jackknifes forward with that horrible noise from yesterday, screaming it into his own knees. Eddie follows, gathering him up like he did Christopher, and just hangs on. Eddie shouldn’t have left him, he should have been there, Buck shouldn’t have had to deliver a child he had a part in creating on the day his father died, a child that’s not even his to have. Eddie doesn’t believe in the universe because if there is some force making these choices it is unimaginably cruel. 

Eddie keeps holding Buck as he convulses. His skin is clammy. Eddie wonders if he’s slept at all. He wonders if he’d been sitting here in the bathroom all day. He thinks likely no for the first, yes for the second. He whispers nothing in particular as Buck grips bruises into his arms. Like Eddie with Carla and Christoper, it eventually stops, leaving Buck panting into Eddie’s chest. Eddie is cradling the back of his head with one hand. 

“I’ll get you some clothes. Think you can stand?”

Buck nods, and they peel themselves off the floor. He starts running a shower as Eddie goes up the stairs. He finds Buck’s blue flannel pajama pants, the ones he knows are his favorite, and spends a sort of sheepish amount of time feeling his shirts to find the softest one. He’s in the shower when Eddie gets back downstairs, and the normal thing would be to leave the clothes on the counter and wait outside, but Eddie’s blood is still a frightened sludge in his veins and he is not physically capable of leaving distance between them. He sits on the toilet and stares down at his shoes. Buck doesn’t spend a lot of time getting clean, and dries off quickly, Eddie trying not to pay attention to the horrifying bruise spread all over his chest. Buck frowns down at the pajamas once he gets them on.

“I need different pants.”

“Sorry, I can grab some sweats-“

“Eddie.” Buck sighs, and it's a frustrated sound. “I have to go back to the hospital. Or Athena’s, or Hen’s, or- people need help.”

“Everyone’s okay right now. And they’ll keep needing help. Maddie was right, you need to rest so you can keep being there for them-“

“I wasted the whole fucking day,” Buck snaps. “I wasn’t there for- anyone.” He presses his palms to his eyes, turning away from Eddie. 

Eddie wants to tell him that Buck got them all out, but knows it won’t help because he didn’t get them all out. He wants to tell them it's not his fault, but knows he won’t believe it. “May and Hen are with Athena. Jee-Yun is with the Lees for the night, Maddie is either with Chimney, who’s doing well, or with her. They’ll all need your help tomorrow. You’re coming home with me. Chris wants to know you’re okay.”

It’s the nuclear option, it’s fighting dirty, and the snort Buck lets out is angry as it is resigned. “Fine.”

That anger has mostly drained out of him by the time they get into the truck, though, Buck slumping against the window as soon as he’s buckled. The ride is quiet for awhile, before Buck suddenly groans as they pull up to a red light.

“Are you alright?” Eddie glances over at him, instinct assessing for injury. 

“Yeah. I should apologize to Natalia.”

It feels like a hell of a non-sequitur. “To- why?”

“She was fucking there. She walked in right in the middle of- she helped. ” Buck sighs, pressing his forehead into the window, and the light turns green so Eddie has to look away from him. “She helped. And then I yelled at her in the hallway and left her there.” He sighs, again. “Not my most… gracious moment.”

“There were some pretty fucking extenuating circumstances, Buck.”

He’s quiet for a few blocks. There’s construction, he has to take a detour through some tiny neighborhood that looks half familiar in a way most of the city does at this point. Eddie wonders if they’ve ever come to a call here.

“I was afraid she… I almost told her. The circumstances. But I didn’t want- her job- I couldn’t fucking stand it if she started to- to offer advice. This is never going to be easier, how the fuck am I supposed to- to accept or move on, it's Bobby- " the name is strangled in his throat, and Eddie throws an arm over to press his hand into Buck’s shoulder. They stay that way, Buck shaking under his palm, ribs screaming at the angle, until they get to the house. 

Buck gets out of the truck and to the house under his own power, which Eddie is grateful for because he doesn't think he could physically force him to at the moment. The doctor's going to be fucking pissed at him at the follow up appointment. Chris is waiting right behind the door, and while Buck can't summon a smile even for him he at least still leans down into the kid's hug. 

"We made spaghetti," Chris whispers to him. Eddie nods a thank you at Carla. He's not sure he can stand long enough to cook and he wasn't going to make Buck do it. "It's not as good as yours." 

"Hey now," Buck says as he pulls away. He's still not smiling but he ruffles Chris's hair. "I've taught you all my tricks. I'm sure it's great." 

Buck and Chris head to the kitchen as Eddie turns to Carla. He opens his mouth but when nothing comes out for a second she pulls him into a careful hug.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." 

Oh, that gives him vertigo. No one's said it yet. He remembers it with Shannon, how he'd started to have to prepare himself against hearing the words. "Thank you. Are you going to stay for food?"

"I'm not going to make you do any entertaining right now, Eddie." She pulls away and pats his arm. "Eat your dinner and get some rest, and call whenever you need." 

"Oh, Carla, you're not-" 

"Even a guest as lovely as me is still something extra to think about. I know how hard it is. Eat. Rest. Call me.”

“Thank you,” he says again as she heads out the door, trying to make it mean as much as it should. 

“It’s no problem,” she says, with one final pat on the arm as she departs.

Chris has pulled his chair right up close next to Buck’s. Buck has his arm around the back of it to avoid knocking elbows as they eat. There’s a plate already full and waiting for him across the table, and he can't quite swallow the groan as he sits down. Buck’s eyes flick over to him.

“When’s the last time you took anything?”

“Awhile ago, but I’m going to wait and take more before bed so I can hopefully sleep.” 

Buck stares for a moment, then gets up to grab an ice pack for him before sitting back down to the food. Eddie clumsily traps it against his side as he eats. Buck finishes most of his plate, and Eddie tries to match his pace to make it less obvious he’s paying more attention to him than his own food. It’s barely six o’clock, too early to go to bed except for the bone deep exhaustion sunk into his body. Cleaning up eats a little time, Buck washing, Eddie drying, Chris putting things away. He leaves the two of them wrapped together on the couch with a video game to go take his second shower of the day. He takes his time, trying to clean every inch of his body best he can without leaning or stretching too much, and then just standing under the almost-too-hot spray and letting his muscles relax. He grabs his most comfortable sweats, and a shirt so old and worn thin it feels like warm air on his skin. 

Seven o’clock. Still a little too early even for a 12 year old, but Chris can see how tired they are and of his own accord asks to play games in his room. Eddie hugs him tight before he goes, and Chris passes that tight hug to Buck. 

“You’ll be here for breakfast? Please?” Chris asks, also knowing how to fight dirty.

Buck looks at the ceiling for a second but says “Yeah,” because he can’t deny Chris anything.

And then it’s the two of them. Buck goes to Eddie’s bathroom to grab the ibuprofen and then to the kitchen to grab water, handing both to Eddie before going to the hall closet. 

"You can just share the bed, Buck, don't take the couch."

Buck doesn’t respond, grabbing sheets and blankets and the spare pillow. Eddie follows him to the couch, grabbing his arm. 

"Buck. Come on, man-"

"You're hurt, Eddie," Buck sighs. "Another person rolling around next to you isn't going to help." 

"It's fine." Eddie doesn’t want to say please because he doesn’t want Buck to still say no when he does.

Buck stares past him, out into the room. "I said I’d be here for breakfast. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie drops his arm. Buck sets up the couch. They don’t say good night. Eddie lays down in his bed alone with the intention of staying awake and listening for- anything. For Buck. For Chris. For the front door opening. His body once more takes the choice away, forcing shut down, and he wakes up groggy in the morning light. The couch is set back to normal, but Buck is in the kitchen with coffee waiting. They drink quietly, waiting for Chris to traipse out. Buck’s eyes are quiet again, he’s upright again. He only stays long enough for cereal. 

-

There’s going to be a funeral. 

Eddie does not see a lot of Buck in the days between him sleeping on the Diaz couch and the event because in the absence of anyone else capable he’s taken on a lot of the organizing. When he does, in brief run ins as Eddie picks something up or drops something off or sits holding someone’s hand or watches the children, he sees that Buck’s spine is made of steel and whatever hysteria lived in his eyes in the bathroom or on the hospital floor is locked down deep. It is only days, Bobby died on Monday and the funeral is Friday, enough time for Chimney to be released from the hospital and for absent family members to fly in. 

Eddie drops Buck off at the Grant-Nash house the day of, because Buck wanted to make sure there was enough parking and he needs to get there early because he and May are the only ones physically capable of lifting anything right now, and isn’t that a fucking metaphor. 

Eddie’s main task for the day is picking up Michael, David, and Harry from the airport. Eddie doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that Harry was out of the country when one of his fathers died. When he meets the three of them at arrivals Harry looks older than when he’d seen him last even if it hasn’t actually been very long, and Eddie digs his nails into his thigh in the pocket of his jeans to hold himself together. The ride is mostly quiet after he offers whatever assurances he can about Athena and May’s wellbeing.

Eddie hasn’t seen Athena much. She’s always seemed like the strongest woman in the world, but Eddie knows that strength can only hold up so long under an abundance of tragedies. When they get to the house she’s in the kitchen, with Buck.

“Please,” she says. “He wouldn’t want it going to waste.”

The fridge is open. It’s the food, whatever last grocery run Bobby went on. She’s asking Buck to cook with Bobby’s food, in Bobby’s kitchen. For a split second, and only because he knows him and is watching carefully for it, Eddie sees the wild thing flash in Buck’s eyes again. He doesn’t hesitate though.

“Yeah. Of course, ‘Thena.” 

Michael and Harry embrace Athena then, drawing her further into the house, and Eddie only has a second to stare at Buck staring into the fridge before someone asks something of him and he has to move away. It’s still early, and the funeral isn’t until the afternoon but the house slowly fills up. Eddie, between helping where he can, keeps an eye on Buck, so he sees when Buck decides the house is reasonably busy and flees to the bathroom. It takes a minute to extricate himself from conversation with Hen without raising suspicion, so by the time he gets to the bathroom door there’s already retching from inside. Eddie lets himself in without knocking, closes the door quickly behind him, and sits on the edge of the tub to rub his hand over Buck’s shoulders as he vomits into the toilet. It doesn’t last very long, and Buck allows himself three ragged gasps before he’s throwing himself upright and washing his face and rinsing his mouth in the sink. 

“Buck-“

“Don’t say anything,” Buck snarls, not bothering to close the door behind him when he leaves. 

Eddie follows him. He rolls up his sleeves and washes his hands in the kitchen sink, and then stands by a cutting board and looks at Buck, a silent challenge to tell him to leave. Buck doesn’t. After a few helplessly angry seconds, he pushes vegetables at Eddie and they get to work. 

Eventually everyone who’s coming has arrived, and all the food is prepped or slow cooking, and everyone who has one has changed into their formal uniforms, and it’s time for the funeral. There’s a lot of ceremony. Eddie never actually attended a military funeral, everyone he knew dying without thinking to inform him, and he wonders if they feel like this, strange and mostly impersonal until you remember why specifically you’re there. Practically every firefighter Eddie’s ever seen is in attendance, and he feels sort of annoyed, wondering how many of them even knew Bobby, and then ashamed, because it’s Bobby, and the number is probably higher than he could guess. Chief Williams delivers a eulogy that Eddie only catches every third word of despite standing only a few feet away, part of the honor guard for the man laying there dead. There’s bagpipes, and amazing grace, and Give Me Concern / A willingness to seek out those in need / Give Me Courage / The boldness of spirit to face and conquer fear, and share and endure the ordeal of others in need / Give Me Strength / Strength of heart, to bear whatever burden might be placed on me and strength of body to deliver safely all those placed in my care / Give Me Wisdom to Lead / The Compassion to comfort, and the love to serve unselfishly wherever you take me / And please Lord, through it all, be at my side. 

Eddie is mostly numb through everything, standing there straight backed with the other members of the 118, until the final call. It’s Linda, he thinks, crackling over the radio and calling for Captain Robert Nash, once, twice, and Eddie’s knees shake as his body expects a familiar voice to respond in turn before she announces that Bobby has answered the call of duty for the last time. He doesn’t stop shaking, and Buck has to put a hand on his arm as they move into place standing watch over the coffin for the wake. It’s a short one, and there are shifts for the guard so Eddie’s only standing there for 15 horrible minutes, ribs starting to scream again, unable to keep himself from finally looking down and seeing Bobby laying there like he’s sleeping, like he’s napping in the bunks and Eddie just needs to shake his shoulder and tell him Buck and Chimney have done something stupid and he’ll get right back up again. He doesn’t have anything to say, when it’s his turn on the other side, and he ends up just gasping out a “Thank you,” before moving on and letting someone more eloquent take his place. 

It’s a few hours start to finish, and then Bobby is in the ground. They return to the house.

None of them had given speeches at the formal event, so they talk about him now. Athena’s voice is almost steady as she speaks about her husband’s life, the infinitely precious few years they shared together. The rest of them stumble through whatever they can make themselves share with half as much grace. Its just fucking miserable. Eddie remembers his grandfather’s funeral, where everyone had been desperately sad but had shared joyful stories of his life, and there was laughter and celebration. Everyone here just looks like they’re going to shatter, are shattering, have shattered. He’s not sure if anyone even eats the food, Bobby’s final meal delivered through Buck’s hands. Eddie remembers Chimney in the hospital asking what they were going to do. He still has no answer.

Everyone who’s going to leave eventually does so. Eddie is one of the last people there, his truck trapped in by other cars, and he tries his best to help move furniture and pick up trash until he’s wincing enough that May demands he sit down, or at least stop moving around. He goes to find Buck.

“Do you want to come over?” 

Buck’s in the kitchen again, putting plastic wrap over anything that will keep. “I have to deal with all this.”

“I can wait.”

Buck sighs, hands resting on the counter. “It’s alright. Go home, Eddie.”

“Buck-“ 

“Please.” All that’s in his eyes is the color blue, any further meaning unreadable.

Eddie is tired, and in pain, and wants to throw a little tantrum here. Share and endure the ordeal of others in need, Buck. Come home. He inhales, and exhales, and gives in. “Alright. Door’s always open.”

"I know."

Eddie, somehow, leaves him there in a dark house, washing dishes alone under a single overhead light. 

-

Buck goes back to work the following Tuesday. He'd only been superficially wounded, the scrapes on his face already fading, and he'd used his three (3) working days with pay, up to a maximum of five (5) days subject to the approval of the Department Head of bereavement leave. He comes over for dinner Sunday night and when Eddie asks if he's sure Buck gives him a look like he's had to answer that question from every single person they know, but then he softens out a little, gets a little honest.

"If I don't go back now I don't think I'll ever be able to," he says quietly into his beer. 

So Buck goes back, and Eddie is told by the doctor that his ribs aren't healing as well as they should - there are some pointed comments about the importance of rest - and when he leaves the office he's staring at 6 full weeks of mandatory time off, and Buck is at work, and Eddie is at home, and Bobby is dead. 

Mehta has been shuffled over from the 133 while they're in between captains. Eddie's glad it's someone they know, a good man who's easy to work with, who always has good control of a scene. Eddie sits at home and tries to tell himself it's fine. He's not there with Buck and he can't do anything if something goes wrong, he's not there and he can't have his back, but Mehta is a good captain, Ravi is still there, the rest of the station is still there. It's not like him being there made a difference last time, anyway. Eddie sits at home and is helpless, and Buck goes back to work. 

It's fine. Buck says it's fine as he makes dinner in Eddie's house again after the first of two shifts he'll work alone before Hen returns. Chris is doing homework at the table, so Eddie doesn't really expect him to go into any gritty uncomfortable detail, but he seems like he’s telling the truth as he says it's weird, but fine. There was a small house fire, a few minor car accidents, a gas leak. All routine. 

“I feel like Maddie or whoever might've been rerouting harder calls,” he says, stirring chili. “Heard there was a thing with hikers that got messy. Out of our range I guess, but we’ve been up in the hills before.” 

“I’m sure somebody else was just closer.” Eddie is sitting at the table

“I guess.” His hand looks tense as he adds whatever spice is next in the recipe floating around his head. 

Later, after dinner and after Chris has gone to bed when Buck is even softer and even more honest and a Dodgers game is quiet on the tv, he whispers like he’s at confession. 

“I think it's better that no one is there. It doesn’t feel like real life.” He’s looking at the screen so Eddie is watching him in side profile, and he can’t tell if the shine in his eyes is just the reflected light. “Maybe I’m just still dreaming.”

The dream, where Bobby was dead and Eddie was gone and Buck was loved by his family but he was not here, not loved by the people here who are his family. “You’re n-“

“I know I’m not.” He looks at Eddie, away from the light and his eyes are still shining. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Buck shrugs and settles into the couch, eyes on the score, locking that softness back away again. He doesn’t stay the night.

-

Eddie brings cupcakes over to Hen’s house when she gets off her first shift.

“I don’t know your guy,” he says as he kisses her cheek. “And I don’t know if novelty cake is really the mood.” 

She laughs, just a little, and Eddie’s not sure anyone has for almost two weeks and the sound feels like a bird fluttering around inside him. “I don’t... really know what the mood is,” she says, peeling off a wrapper and biting into a Double Cocoa Sprinkle. “Mostly? It’s fine. I’ve been doing this job for years, and I’ve had longer leaves. It’s not… difficult, to get back in the swing of things. Just do the job in front of me.” She tilts her head, purses her lips. “Then I walk past Bobby’s- past the captain’s office, or I go check what’s in the kitchen, or we’re at a scene and I keep looking for him there.” She sets down the cupcake and crosses her arms. “It’s strange, Eddie. It’s sad. I’m perfectly okay and then I’m crying into my locker because a piece of equipment or a reflection in the truck mirror or the damn staircase will remind me of a joke he told or some advice he gave.” She shrugs as she sighs, then wipes her eyes and finishes her cupcake. “I think it might feel better when you and Chimney are back. I feel like I need my team.”

Eddie nods, toying with his Cinnamon-Vanilla Bean Dream. He’s cut back on the driving since the doctor’s admonishments (the bakery he chose was directly on the way here, it’s fine) so he’s been spending a lot of time in his house, mostly alone. The prospect of going back to work without Bobby there feels a little sickening, but he misses being shoulder to shoulder with people he trusts, all working together towards something. “Yeah. I miss you people, too.”

She makes an aw shucks face and he blows her a kiss. They finish their cupcakes in companionable silence, and as Hen washes her hands she glances over at him in the way she has when she’s trying to be casual.

“How’s Buck doing?”

Wouldn’t Eddie like to know. Buck comes over for dinner as often as he ever did, helps Chris with homework, stays the night sometimes. Says he apologized to Natalia and hasn’t talked to her since. Walks around looking absolutely calm. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t weep. Has a look about him like he’s assessing a scene no matter where he is, running through a mental list of triage criteria. “As okay as he can be, I guess.” Eddie throws his cupcake wrapper in the trash, pretending to be just as casual. “Why? How is he at work?”

“Fine,” she says, with just the barest hint of a question tucked away in the word. “He’s… just a little distant.”

He’s fucking miles away, and Eddie doesn’t have a map. GPS on the fritz. “Yeah.”

“He’s-“ her eyes well up and she gestures at them like see, this is what I was talking about. “He’s good out there. I was afraid he might-“ that wild thing, that terrible wild thing that they all must have seen at one point or other, Eddie no particularly special observer after all. “But he’s been level headed, thinking things through. He’s good at this. Bobby would be so proud of him.”

Eddie nods, swallowing, his own eyes wet. He takes the hand she offers. “He already was.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was.”

They hold hands until she yawns, and Eddie excuses himself to let her rest. They hug as tight as his broken ribs will allow before he goes.

-

Eddie somehow ends up going on regular coffee outings with May. She’d called two days after the funeral, feeling a little trapped, and feeling a little guilty for feeling a little trapped. They hadn’t talked much that first time, Eddie just sitting next to her at a table in whatever cafe they’d found so she could have a moment alone without having to be alone. Next time it’s all about school, a paper coming up, some jackass in section, no talk of family at all. The third time it’s all about Bobby and they both end up crying into their fancy latte art. Today, she’s trying to convince him to get a pedicure.

“C’mon,” she grins. “It’s nice! Get pampered a little, Diaz!”

“What about me makes you think I’d ever want a stranger touching my feet.”

She laughs, flicking the straw wrapper from her espresso horchata at him. “I swear it’s not that weird once it’s happening. You wouldn’t even have to get them painted, they can just buff and trim. You should, though, it’s fun! You can get anything, come on, pick a color.”

Eddie shrugs, making a face. “I dunno. Red?”

“Like… a fire truck? You’re incredibly uncreative.”

Eddie makes the face harder. “And you’re incredibly mean. I don’t want to get a pedicure.”

“Fine. Just know I’ll convince you eventually.” Her teasing look shifts to something sadder. “It’s something me and mom do. Get our nails done, have a day out together. It hasn’t been long enough since we last went out that it’s weird we haven’t done it yet, but I don’t really know when the appropriate time to suggest a fun girls day is after everything.”

Eddie nods. “How is she?”

May shrugs, shaking her head a little. “I’m glad dad- Michael stayed in town. She’s not… it’s not terrible. She’s okay. But I’m glad she has so many people to lean on even if she won’t admit she needs it.” She traces condensation running down her cup. “Buck’s been over a lot, I think it helps. Both of them knew Bobby really well, and saw different sides of him, so they can just… talk about him. It… yeah. I think it helps.”

Buck’s been over a lot. Buck has been over at Eddie’s house a lot, and from what he’s heard from Maddie he’s been at hers a lot too. Eddie wonders how often he goes home. Eddie wonders why he didn’t tell him about this and then actually winces a little because what the fuck, this isn’t something he gets to be weirdly jealous over. If this is helping, he’s glad, and it’s none of his business, and it’s fine that it isn’t something Buck could get from Eddie. 

“You okay?”

“What?” Eddie blinks at May, a little startled to remember where he is. “Uh- sorry, yeah. I’m glad they have that.”

She contemplates him for a moment. “Are you and Buck okay?”

“What?” Eddie tries to take a sip of his not very good americano very normally. “Me and- there isn’t a me and Buck.”

She makes a face. “Isn’t there, though? I mean- okay, you’re not dating or whatever but you’re… Buck and Eddie.”

Buck-and-Eddie. The hyphenate. “We’re fine. He was over yesterday.” And his eyes were flat and we talked but we didn’t say anything. “It’s fine. It’s hard, you know, with all- but we’ll be okay.”

“Alright…” She rattles her drink at him. “You know you can call me if you need to talk, too. I’ve been told I’m good in a crisis.” She says it like a joke, eyebrows raised, and it makes Eddie feel very sad.

“May… you don’t-“

“We all carry each other, right? It’s heavy, so we share the weight.”

Oh, Bobby, I hope you can see her. “Yeah.” He smiles a little with a corner of his mouth. “Actually I do have something to talk about, deeply upsetting. This girl I’m friends with was very rude about my nail polish choice-“

She throws her head back laughing and pelts him with her napkin hard enough a barista raises an eyebrow. 

-

Chimney is the next to go back to work, which Eddie thinks is really unfair. 

“Your guts were all on the outside, I just cracked a few things!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Chimney says, finger pointed primly in the air. “I was not eviscerated, I was impaled. Guts stayed on the inside.”

“And why is this appropriate dinner conversation?” Maddie says, nose wrinkled over her glass of wine. 

“I’m just saying it seems like I should be back to work faster.”

Chimney grins. “You wanna trade next time?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure. Haven’t had an abdominal wound yet, why not check it off the list.”

Maddie makes a face and shakes her head, but can’t quite not join them in laughing. Eddie had been watching Jee-Yun for them today, as they started slowly stumbling their way into wedding prep, and they’d gotten home late enough that she was asleep and they cajoled him into staying for dinner and drinks. It’s already week four of Eddie’s exile from the fire house, time both flying and crawling by. He’s cleaned the house top to bottom twice. He’s the on call babysitter for everyone he knows. He and Chris and Buck went to the zoo and it almost felt normal except Buck was quiet and still. He’s trapped a little, between grief and anticipation. He wants to go back to work, and wants Bobby to be there when he does.

“How’d everything go today?”

Maddie and Chimney make twinned grimaces and Eddie lets out a startled laugh.

“That bad?”

Maddie sighs but Chim is the one who responds. “It just feels weird. Planning something happy right now.” He rubs a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair. “He offered to officiate, and he’s not going to be there? Feels bad.”

“I don’t want to make anyone try to feel something they’re not,” Maddie says sadly. “Like… hey, I know we just lost someone really important, but have you thought about me?”

“Us,” Chim corrects, a little miserably.

Eddie chews on his tongue. “You shouldn’t feel bad for having love right now. I think that’s always a good thing, right? And… you said it. Bobby was already so happy for you. He’d hate it if you were trying to hold that back on his account.” 

“Eddie Diaz, secret romantic.” It’s a tease, but Chimney’s voice is soft. 

He shrugs. “I just think we could all use something to celebrate.”

The evening moves on, and in the coming days Eddie finds himself CC’d on a lot of wedding planning emails. He tries to give his best opinions on cake flavors and types of flowers and the benefits of a DJ versus a playlist - If you’re desperate for the cha cha slide I’m sure we can just find it somewhere. He looks at Buck’s email address in the chain for too long and tries not to feel stupid about it. Chimney goes back to work.

His report is the same as everyone else’s: it’s strange, it’s fine, it’s strange, it’s fine. The station isn’t as boisterous as it was, but maybe that will come with time, and everyone is managing to work well together despite the noticeable absence (“And the slightly less noticeable one,” Chimney says, gently elbowing Eddie’s side). After an informal dinner at Hen’s house - they haven’t had a full gathering since Bobby died, so it is very carefully not a group barbecue - where she and Karen announced their impending foster baby, it’s looking like Chimney is going to take the captaincy. 

“It’s fucking weird, man,” Chimney sighs over beers in the Wilsons back yard. “Mehta’s going back to the 133 on Friday, and then I’ll be in charge. I feel like a little kid playing pretend, putting-“ his voice cracks a little, he shakes his head and stares out into the evening air for a moment. “Putting dad’s suit on. Fuck.”

Eddie’s a little winded by it too, but he puts a hand on his shoulder. “We all trust you. You’re going to do a good job, because you trust us too.”

“I’m not gonna be Bobby.” He looks haunted. Eddie doesn’t believe in specters but he’s learning to believe in ghosts. 

“No one is.” He can almost see stars out tonight. “But we need Chimney, too.”

“Ugh,” Chimney says, a little wet, and shoves Eddie’s head a little. Eddie smacks his hand away and they both grin before settling back down. Eddie’s about to go in for another beer when Chim grabs his arm. “Hey…”

“Yeah?” Eddie raises an eyebrow at the hesitant look on his face.

“Is Buck okay?”

The sky seems to spin a little faster. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Chimney looks almost confused, like he doesn’t know why he brought it up. “I dunno, I guess… I mean, it’s a good thing that he’s not pulling his usual stunts, right?” He laughs a little, aiming for normalcy. Eddie’s stomach keeps falling. “He’s being safe, that’s a good thing. But he, uh… I don’t know. He’s not doing rope rescues. He specifically asked Mehta to keep him in support roles. I just wondered if he talked to you about it.”

Eddie shakes his head past the panic bubbling up in his chest. He had no idea this was happening. Buck won’t talk to him, not really. He’s there but he’s not there. He’s in Hen’s kitchen right now, 20 feet away, unreachable. There isn’t anything wild in his eyes but maybe the nothing that’s replaced it is worse. “I’ll talk to him.” He’ll try. The world feels like it’s slipping between his fingers. He has to try.

-

Buck leaves the not-party before Eddie gets the chance to stop him, so he has to wait until he comes over the next evening, sickness rolling around inside him in their hours apart. He seems fine when he comes through the door, dropping a kiss on Chris’s head, and bumping his wrist into Eddie’s, and Eddie tries to breathe and smile and behave as though his heart isn’t trying to turn itself inside out. Eddie helps chop vegetables for a casserole, and tries not to jump at loud noises. He hasn’t felt this outside of his own skin in a long time, but Buck needs him to inhabit his body, so he hangs on as best he can. 

“What’s the verdict, kid?” Buck smiles just a little at Chris after they’ve cleaned their plates. “Okay even with the broccoli?”

Chris sticks his tongue out at him. “Yeah, Buck. You make everything good.” Eddie digs his nails into his palm. “Are you gonna stay over?”

Buck shrugs, leaning back a little. “I dunno, bud, I’m going to help Maddie with wedding stuff tomor-“

“Stay.” Eddie says it loudly and suddenly enough that they both look at him in surprise. “Please.”

Buck’s surprise furrows into concern as he scans Eddie’s face, and he wonders if the wild thing lives in his own eyes now. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

They dig out some slightly icy rocky road from the freezer for desert, and Buck’s eyes stay on him most of the time, which Eddie knows because his eyes are stuck on Buck. Buck takes over most of the talking for the evening, and Eddie feels a little dizzy at their partnership in action when he feels like he can’t get a good hold on it. Dinner and desert is cleaned up, they watch a movie Eddie couldn’t tell you a damn thing about, he kneels next to Chris’s bed to hug him goodnight.

Buck is waiting for him in the kitchen, the light over the sink on, the rest of the house dark except for the television that got left on mute. He’s leaning on the counter, something careful in his stance.

“Hey.” 

“What’s going on with you?”

Buck nods forward. “I feel like I should be asking you th-“

“Buck.” It comes out harsher than he means, but Eddie thinks he might be very frightened. “Why aren’t you on the ropes?”

Buck’s eyes slide away from him, and he stares out into the distance for a long while before sighing into the quiet. His voice is perfectly calm. “My second shift back, before Hen was there, I got harnessed up. There was a moment in the rescue where I had to, and I wasn’t being stupid, Eddie, I had to do it or we both would have fallen, anyone up there would have done the same- I had to unclip. I was holding myself up.” He looks directly into Eddie’s eyes and Eddie shakes with it. “I don’t want to die. But I almost let go. It was- it was close. It scared me. So I asked Mehta if I could step back for a while, till I’m sure it won’t happen again.” 

Eddie wonders, vaguely, if his grip is going to chip the counter tile. He thinks that's healthy, right? Buck realized something was wrong and took steps to mitigate harm, right? He’s standing right here next to Eddie’s kitchen sink where there's a pair of flower print dish gloves just for him and he looks calm and put together and he said he doesn't want to die, right? He’s been right next to him and still always gone for weeks but Eddie should be relieved and proud of him right? Right? 

Why are you trying to leave me? “I got shot and you climbed a crane.”

Buck tilts his head. “I got struck and you climbed a ladder.”

And- Eddie-

Where the fuck is Bobby? Where’s Bobby, he needs Bobby, he needs someone who knows what to do, he needs help and Buck needs help-  

It takes awhile for him to be aware of his surroundings again. He’s choking sobs into Buck’s shirt, and Buck is holding him and stepping back and forth, rocking him in something like a slow dance. One of Buck’s hands is rubbing up and down his spine, and he’s whispering comfort into his hair, and Eddie isn’t - Eddie isn’t the one who should be being comforted in this situation. Eddie fists his fingers into his shirt a little more intentionally, feeling coming back into his hands.

“Hey,” Buck says, because Buck knows him, and knows he’s back. 

“Stay,” Eddie says, because he’s absolutely going to fly the fuck apart if Buck does not come to bed, “Stay with me, please stay with me.”

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”

They go to Eddie’s room, mostly still holding each other. Eddie sends Maddie a text that’s probably mostly nonsensical and a little alarming but he still can’t quite see straight, and then climbs into a bed that Buck is already occupying. It can’t quite be called spooning, what he does. Buck ends up crowded to the edge of the mattress as Eddie clings onto him, still kind of crying into his neck, hand pressed flat to Buck’s chest where he broke his fucking sternum restarting his heart just months ago, desperately trying to feel his pulse and the breath in his lungs. Buck makes it easy for him, inhaling and exhaling on a steady counted rhythm, pressing his hand into Eddie’s hard enough to feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. Eddie wants to stay awake and anchor him here, forever, but the safety of finally being at Buck’s side pulls him quickly under.

-

Eddie is woken very briefly sometime when murky light has started to fill the bedroom. He’s still pressed entirely along Buck’s spine, and Buck is gently stroking his arm. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “Maddie’s here. I’m gonna go talk to her. I didn’t want you to worry if you woke up and I was gone.”

Eddie grunts something like assent, and disentangles himself from Buck’s warmth, feeling one last press of it against his forehead before he goes. He panics only very briefly when he wakes up again sometime later, sitting bolt upright before he hears Maddie and Buck in the kitchen. He can’t make out any specific words, but they don’t sound tense, and then-

Buck laughs.

Eddie very nearly runs out to him, slipping just a little in his socks. They’re sitting at the table with coffee and muffins, and both look up at his clumsy arrival. Buck is smiling a little, and he kicks out the chair beside him. Eddie joins them, scrubbing a hand over his face before he turns to Maddie. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t even remember what I sent you.”

“That’s alright,” she laughs a little, in a kind way. “Buck texted me pretty soon after to clear some things up.”

“Right.” He looks between the siblings. “Did you… talk about…”

“When she got here in the morning,” Buck nods. His ankle is pressed into Eddie’s under the table, and he looks less ephemeral in the morning light. “Told her everything.”

Maddie’s smile is a little sad, but she doesn’t look overly worried. “I think it’s… it might be something that runs in the family.” Buck laughs again, smothered like he’s trying not to. “Stop it.”

“No, no, sorry, I swear to god it’s not funny picturing our parents with depression.” He wrinkles his face up in an attempt to banish the giggles. “Just, like- can you imagine- darling, pass me the rope-“

“Buck!” Maddie smacks his arm, but she’s snorting too. “God. It’s not funny.”

“It isn’t! It isn’t.” He sighs as he looks at Eddie, who’s still feeling sort of winded. “Sorry. I really worried you. I was trying not to.”

“I’ll always worry about you, Buck.” Any reason to not be fully honest wept itself onto the floor last night, a few feet away from where they sit.

“Yeah…” Buck breathes the word, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand and looking over at him. “You’ve got my back.” The words are a little wet, and Eddie’s eyes prick in return. “You’ve been so good to me since… since Bobby died. You- you found me when I was absolutely not okay that first night, and you’ve been this safe place to come back to ever since. You’ve- you’ve always been that, I think. I would...” He looks away briefly, and then back again. “Be doing a hell of a lot worse if I didn’t have you. So, thank you. And I’m so sorry, again, for scaring you.”

Eddie scoffs, shakes his head, because that’s- it’s not what happened. “I didn’t- I’ve felt- useless, Buck, I couldn’t do anything-“

“Eddie,” it’s Maddie who objects, head tilted in the same way her brother has. “You’ve done so much. You’ve been here for everyone.”

“No, it’s you all…” in his head, May tells him they share the weight. 

“You’ve got my back,” Buck says again. “You both do, and Hen and Chim and everybody, and we can all… keep an eye on it.” He leans back again, and holds out a hand for each of them to take. “And I promise you, if it gets bad I will be honest with you. If I need help, I’ll ask for it.” He smiles a little shaky, upright again but not so terribly, desperately so. “That’s what Bobby taught me. Ask for help, even if it’s hard.” 

Eddie breathes out, his lungs at full capacity for the first time in… days, weeks. Buck’s thumb strokes over the back of his hand. “Okay. Alright.” He rubs his free hand over his eyes, and grabs a muffin, making a noise he hopes conveys please ignore me now. Buck and Maddie both chuckle, and then Buck starts talking about cake tasting, and he doesn't let go of either of them. Eddie finishes his muffin and drinks coffee that's gone cold, and Buck smiles. Buck smiles.

Buck smiles, and Eddie loves him.

-

Eddie goes back to work the next week. Like everyone said, it's weird. He hasn't been back since it happened, and it's weird to walk into a building Bobby should be in. He suits up and Bobby doesn’t greet him at the top of the stairs. He climbs into the engine on his first call and he looks to Bobby’s seat and Chimney is there. Bobby’s mac and cheese is still in the kitchen, but Buck is the one making it. It’s weird.

It’s good, too, though. Eddie hadn’t realized quite how stir crazy he was going at home. It’s a relief, to be back here doing hard work with his hands, to go out and help people. And it’s good, working side by side with his team again, helping Hen with more medical calls as Chimney settles into his leadership role, working the ropes with Ravi. Working side by side with Buck. His partner. They still move in tandem, Eddie as aware of Buck’s movements as he is of his own, joyfully in tune.

Things are weird. Things are good.

-

Life goes on. 

Wedding prep is underway, Maddie and Chimney looking at venues all over the city before deciding to have it in their own home, a place they’d gone through so much to get to have. Work is good and bad and chaotic and calm as it ever was. Chimney is a good leader, and they all have his back when he stumbles, as he does with them. And it is hard, Eddie does stumble. The first time one of them gets hurt (Hen, pushed over by a panicked victim, it’s not bad, she just needs a few stitches, but it’s one of them bleeding) Eddie barely holds himself together through it, and has to vomit before he climbs into the ambulance, and he doesn’t think anyone else is handling it much better. But they get through, holding onto each other tight. Give me courage, to share and endure the ordeal of others in need.

Buck comes over, and he actually feels like he’s there, and Eddie is a little proud and a little heartbroken at how much healing he did all on his own without Eddie’s help, or at least without help Eddie knew he was giving. Some days are still quiet, and his smile doesn’t always reach his eyes, but he always stays the night and most mornings there are pancakes. 

Two months after Bobby died, Buck and Eddie go suit shopping. Buck checks out a foggy blue herringbone, while Eddie does a sheepish spin in a textured tan. 

Buck grins, eyes trailing up and down the length of him. This - long looks, lingering touches - is something that’s been happening, too, with a giddily increasing frequency. “Lookin’ good, Eds.”

A store attendant with kind eyes pauses as she walks by, and passes a hand over a table of handkerchiefs before offering one to Eddie. “Might I suggest?”

It’s a foggy blue. Eddie nods, words trapped a little, and she tucks it neatly into his breast pocket and continues on her way. Buck smiles with his nose a little scrunched up as he steps closer. He runs a hand over the blue silk, looking at Eddie with eyes that are not wild and not empty and that are almost the same shade. “I hear this is where you start panicking.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. He’d step back but there’s nowhere really to go with a mirror at his back, and anyway he doesn’t really want to leave. Buck’s hand is still warm against his chest. He - cautiously, leaving plenty of time to escape - rests his hand on Buck’s hip. “I’m not panicking about you.”

Buck gasps out a tiny little exhale, and his eyes widen slightly, but he grins again and tilts his head. “I dunno, you did panic about me just a bit ago-“

“Buck.” Eddie shakes his head, because the joke is a little too soon but of course he would make it. He lets go of his waist and brings his hand up to rest over Buck’s. “Not panicking about you.” They just stand there for a moment, mirrored shy smiles. “You find what you were looking for?” Eddie glances at the suit on the hangar beside him. Buck looks straight at Eddie, and then leans over the table the attendant had perused. He finds one in a warm brown, and then holds it up next to Eddie’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “Perfect.”

They go home.

Making dinner together feels like a little dance. Buck’s hand lingers on the small of Eddie's back as he scoots past him to grab something from the fridge, they stand elbow to elbow as Eddie preps ingredients for Buck to use, Buck touches Eddie's wrist, Eddie touches Buck's shoulder. They share enough giddy little smiles that Chris picks up on the mood, adding boisterous noise to the room as he brings out a deck of cards to solidly destroy Buck in poker now that his math prowess is a thing of the past. 

“Augh!” Buck flops dramatically in his chair after his fifth lost round. “You’re bleeding me dry, Diazes.”

“That’s five pancake breakfasts you owe me,” Chris says, serious as any outlaw in the west. 

“Oh, how will I ever pay my gambling debts,” Buck says, warbling, a hand tossed limply over his eyes. He winks at Eddie from beneath it. “Better start tomorrow.”

Eddie hides his surely too sappy smile behind his cards.

Chris takes a long look at him as he says goodnight. "You seem happy. Buck too." He's nestled in among dinosaur sheets he's not yet too cool for, if only because Buck liked them so much he'd tried to find a king sized version for himself. 

"I think we are," Eddie says. Stegosaurus, brontosaurus, T-Rex. He's spent so many precious hours hearing all about them from Chris and Buck, his two favorite people, smiling so big their faces lit up. "Still sad, sometimes, but happy too." 

"That's good."

"How 'bout you," Eddie says, leaning forward to ruffle his hair, and then deciding to climb all the way onto the bed to lay at his son's side. Chris is a little bigger than the last time he did this, and someday soon he'll be too big to share at all. It hasn't happened quite yet, though, and Chris scoffs a laugh but still wiggles in close. "Are you happy, Chris?" 

"Yeah, Dad," he grins, toothy. "I get pancake breakfast with Buck!" 

Eddie laughs, because that's one of the happiest things he can think of, too.

Buck is waiting for him in the kitchen, once more standing in the half dark. A soft smile blooms across his face as soon as Eddie enters the room, and Eddie's heart beats a little faster. 

"Want a beer?" 

"Sure."

They drink them at the table, ankles hooked together, playing go fish. Buck does better at this game, though Eddie thinks it's because he's paying more attention to Buck than the cards. When they're done Eddie gathers the deck as Buck rinses the bottles at the sink and adds them to the recycling. Eddie waits by the entrance to the living room, and when Buck is finished they watch each other for a moment, and then Buck steps close, takes Eddie's face gently in his hands, and kisses him. 

Eddie hasn’t kissed many people in his life. There was Veronica Shipman, in 3rd grade, as a dare. Lettie Rodriguez, nervous and giggling after sophomore prom. Shannon. Ana. Buck’s lips are warm and his stubble scrapes against Eddie’s skin, and he thinks that until the day he dies he will be able to say he can count his kissing partners on one hand, because Buck is the fifth and final one. They kiss until they’re smiling too wide to continue. 

“Come to bed?”

Buck shakes his head, face still so close their noses brush. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Why?” Eddie's arms had circled around Buck’s waist at some point, and he rubs a thumb somewhere near his spine.

“I wanna… take things slow.” Buck whispers it into the tiny space between them, smiling so wide his eyes are nearly shut with it. “I want to- I want to woo you, Eddie!” They both laugh, a little breathless. “Please, Eds. We have our whole lives to get to. We can take our time.”

They kiss again, and Buck makes up the couch, and they kiss again, and Eddie says goodnight, and they kiss again, and Eddie goes to bed. He stares up at the ceiling, stardust swirling around inside him, so happy he wonders if he might actually be glowing. 20 minutes after he lays down he gets a phone call.

“Hi,” Buck says cheerfully. 

“Hello? Do you need something?”

“Just checkin’ in.”

Eddie laughs, and can hear Buck’s returning peal both through the phone and drifting in from the living room. “Doing pretty good. Had a nice night. Kissed a guy I like a lot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. It was pretty great.”

Buck takes a moment to answer, and Eddie wonders if he’s grinning like he is, so wide his cheeks hurt. “Well, I have it on good authority the guy thought it was pretty great, too.” 

“That’s good.” They just breathe together for a moment. “You got enough blankets?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Buck says, amusement lacing his voice, a silent tease of his dad-like tendencies. “I’m good. Miss you, though.”

“Buck,” Eddie laughs, flopping out an arm like Buck can see the gesture. “I’m right here. You don’t have to miss me.”

“Wooing, Eddie, remember?”

“Buck? I’m pretty damn woo’d.”

Soft laughter. “Just you wait! You have no idea about my wooing potential!”

Eddie hums through a chuckle. “Alright, alright. Looking forward to it. I’m going to sleep now, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Goodnight, Eddie. See you in the morning.”

It takes Eddie a long time to fall asleep. He feels sort of carbonated, fizzy and excited and wondering what Buck is up to a room away. He’s not sure when he drifts off, but he wakes to the sound of the metal bowl Buck likes to use for pancake mix clanging against the counter. Eddie brushes his teeth at record speed before coming out to greet him.

“Hey-“ Buck laughs as he’s cut off with a kiss, blindly setting down the batter so he can join in with enthusiasm. “Good morning,” he mumbles into Eddie’s mouth. 

"Morning," Eddie sighs back. He explores because he can, hands trailing over Buck's arms and torso, up through his hair. Buck's hands rest on his waist, and he backs Eddie into the counter, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling back to look at him with a big soft sunshiny smile. He traces his fingertips over Eddie's cheekbone, and then something suddenly stutters in his expression.

"Oh," he says, rough, face pulling into a frown. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" Eddie rests a hand on his ribs. 

"I don't-" Buck shakes his head slowly, looking like he's underwater. "I don't get to tell Bobby." He lets out a dry, surprised little sob at his own words, and collapses down in on himself for a moment before Eddie can wrap his arms around him and prop him up. "I don't get to- he'll never know." Buck chokes the words into Eddie's shoulder. "I don't get to share this. He doesn't get to see me with-" Buck's throat swallows his attempts at sound, and Eddie holds him tight as he cries. Eddie’s pulse thuds in his chest, but he thinks this isn’t quite the terrifying, all consuming grief that had threatened to drown them both in the bathroom. It’s just Buck being sad.

Fuck. It’s sad. For years Bobby had been quietly, gently invested in Eddie’s happiness. Eddie is standing here holding probably the love of his life, and he wouldn’t have got here without him, and he’ll never get to thank him for it. Bobby will never know, but Eddie kisses Buck’s cheek and the side of his head, running a hand through his hair again and again, and thinks about not looking for things because they’re right in front of you, and someone who sits with you through a hard time.

“I think… I think he might have known. Might’ve had an idea, about us. Some of the advice he gave me…” Eddie sighs, rests his head against Buck. “I dunno. I don’t know, we’ll never know. We don’t get to share this with him.” He tilts back just a bit, sliding his hand from Buck’s curls to his face until he makes eye contact. “What I do know is that he would be so proud, and so happy for you. For both of us.”

Buck’s breathing is shaky and his eyes are still wet, but he nods. “I know.” He unwraps himself from Eddie so he can scrub his hands over his face before resting them at the back of Eddie’s head. “God. So much for taking it slow - I love you so much, Eddie Diaz.”

Eddie laughs, watery, and kisses him. “I love you so much, too.”

They never quite fully disentangle that morning, and Buck rises to the challenge of making pancakes with one arm so he can keep holding Eddie’s hand.

-

Buck stands at the head of the living room. Eddie, standing next to Hen who is standing at Chimney's side, can admit he already started to tear up as he'd watched him walk a resplendent Maddie up an aisle created by a long throw rug. He'd teased Buck about his dual role all week - wow, Buckley, didn't know you could double task - until this morning when Buck had given him a pinched, nervous look ahead of the upcoming ceremony, and Eddie had done his best to kiss the worry away. Buck doesn't look nervous now, looking at his sister and friend with nothing but adoration in his eyes. 

"Hi everybody," he says with a grin, and Eddie chuckles with the rest of the room. "Before I start I want you all to know Athena helped me write this, so if I sound elegant at all that's entirely her.

We're gathered here today to celebrate love. Maddie is the person who taught me what that word means. Love is taking care of someone. Love is giving them time, and giving them your time. Love is returning. Love is something you have to hold onto, because it’s precious, because it’s worth carrying. And love is doing all of this even when it's hard, yeah, but love is what makes joy that much more joyous, it's what makes the easy times feel so easy. 

Maddie, Chimney, you found love together. You made it, raised it up on solid foundations of trust and care, worked hard through stormy weather and on beautiful sunny days, and the home you’ve built is incredible. We’re honored today to stand in the presence of your love and share this moment with you, and to get to stay by your sides and watch it continue to grow and spread that joy and ease.

So…." Buck says, clearing his throat a little, his hand almost fluttering out to rest on his sister’s elbow as she wipes away tears. “You two wanna get married?”

Eddie laughs, and then has to catch his breath a little while Buck performs the ceremony, because he’s calm and steady and his smile even looks like Bobby’s for a moment. Eddie remembers, suddenly, sometime around in sickness and in health, a photo at his parents house in El Paso. Eddie is maybe three years old, in Winnie the Pooh pajamas, alone in the living room and standing with his tiny feet in his father’s boots. And maybe he grew up and maybe living up to his ideas of his father hadn’t been all it was cracked up to be, but he’s struck in the moment by the act of loving someone so much you want to stand in their footprint. Bobby, if you can hear me, I want you to know how good he’s doing. He’d make you so damn proud. 

There’s not a dry eye in the place as they cheer on Maddie and Chimney’s first married kiss. 

People spill out of the rag tag assembly of chairs and stools to get food from the buffet set up in the kitchen and eat wherever they find a spot to settle. Out on the back porch Hen shares tales of Chimney before anyone else there had joined the 118, and Eddie laughs so hard he starts crying again. Buck tells stories about his sister, grinning ear to ear with weepy eyes. Maddie and Chimney speak about each other, almost privately, soft and staring into each other’s eyes. Chimney turns to Eddie and thanks him.

“What? Why?”

“A long time ago you told me tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. I love her, and I told her.”

Eddie huffs an overwhelmed sort of laugh. “Imagine if you’d listened to all your damn signs.” 

“Hey, Jee found the ring and gave it to Maddie, I still feel like the universe was working its magic here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and Maddie laughs, and then squints at her husband. “Wait, is that- in the captain’s office that morning when you were being weird, is that what Bobby was running interference on? Had you lost the ring?”

Chimney grins and shakes his head. “No- or well, I didn’t know it yet at least, I was just trying to hide the box from you. You didn’t fall for his midwestern charm?”

“Oh I’d take a Bobby hug any day, but I’d literally just seen him the day before and he said ‘it’s been so long.’” 

Eddie laughs. “This is why we didn’t bring him on pranks, the man had no poker face.” 

Buck’s smile is a little wistful where he’s leaning against the railing. “He should have been the control case for my super powers. If he started beating me then that's it, gone for sure.” 

“Oh no,” Hen cuts in. “I saw him take that transfer from the 127 for all he was worth. That patient smile could hide a lot.”

Athena doesn’t look up from her glass of champagne, but she smiles very softly. “You won when Bobby wanted you to win. And he always wanted all of you to win.”

The patio is quiet for a moment, an ache in the air, but Eddie thinks it’s an ache that comes from love and not the absence of it. 

They dance.

Maddie and Chimney first, under the twinkly lights strung across the backyard, dazzling in each other’s arms. They take Jee-Yun from Josh, who had held her up in the maid of honor position during the ceremony, and their little family twirls together, faces lit up bright. Buck dances with his sister, and the groom, and spins Hen around and around, and waltzes with a laughing Athena, and pulls off clumsy, flashy moves with a giggling Christopher. He dances with Eddie.

It’s late, and the music is a little quieter now, and they’re swaying towards the edge of the dance floor where it’s a little darker. The air is cool and Buck is warm against him. He wonders what it will be like when it’s their turn. He wonders if it’s too soon to ask. He can just make out stars, far above them. Buck kisses his cheek, a slow and lingering thing, and Eddie rests a hand on his face as he looks down from the sky to his partner. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” Buck whispers. The thing in his eyes is entirely soft, and only for Eddie.

“You coming home?”

Buck nods, and smiles. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m coming home.”