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Nights are when he feels it the most.
Like the house reopens the poorly dressed wounds so they ache like they're brand new again.
He cooks dinner for two the way he always has, sits at the table, and eats quietly under the glow of one lonely light above the stove. There is no homework discussion, that always makes him thankful school is a distant memory, no middle school gossip that makes him laugh but ultimately again, makes him grateful to be so far removed. Instead, there’s the sound of one fork against one plate. In the next room, he keeps the TV on so there’s a constant hum to cut through the stillness. He can pretend it feels a little less empty that way…
When he’s finished he throws the leftovers—Christopher’s portion—in the fridge where he will pull them out the next night and warm them up for dinner. He washes and dries his one place setting methodically, eyes unfocused on the swirls of soap in the kitchen sink. When he’s done, he shuffles down the hall, further from the glowing television, and steps into the shower. He’s been a morning-shower person all his adult life, but now he fills his evenings with anything that will eat away the time before he falls into an inevitably uneasy sleep. These days he wakes a little later each morning and starts this cycle all over again. It’s a routine he’s created to give himself a reprieve from the never-ending emptiness.
Occasionally, he wakes up curled into himself on top of Christopher’s twin bed. On those mornings, as he straightens the comforter and smoothes out the pillows the silence is screaming loud.
It occurs to him, three weeks into Christopher’s absence, as he’s clearing his throat to answer his ringing phone, that he rarely speaks once he’s left work; that he moves in silence the minute he gets into his truck after every shift.
“What are you bringing to Bobby and Athena’s?”
“What?” He croaks.
“The housewarming.”
Buck’s voice is light and bright the way it almost always is. Eddie wonders if he’s putting it on for his sake. Because yeah Buck is walking sunshine most days but since Christopher left he’s been keeping a watchful eye on Eddie whenever he thinks he’s not paying attention. Unfortunately for Buck, there is not a subtle bone in his 6’2” body.
“Right, the housewarming…” Bobby and Athena had found a decent short-term rental to live in while they figured out their long-term plans and considering everything they owned had been lost in the fire, Hen had proposed throwing them a small housewarming party. “Uh, I don’t know,” Eddie finally shrugs.
“Hey,” Buck’s voice is much softer than before. “Are you doin’ okay?”
“I’m fine, Buck.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it.”
It should deter him, with anyone else it would, but Buck’s almost always been able to read Eddie like a book, even over the phone.
“Have you talked to Chris?”
“For like thirty seconds between calls this morning," he sighs. He can hear the quiet noise Buck makes in the back of his throat: the mix of sympathetic hum and frustrated groan.
“How’s he doin’?”
“Good, I guess. Sounds like he’s having fun with his cousins—”
“Eddie,” his voice is far too soft to not make Eddie’s eyes well up.
“Don’t, Buck, I’m fine,” he sighs and then adds, “What are you bringing?”
“What?”
“To the housewarming. What are you bringing?”
“I don’t know,” he says dismissively. “But Eddie, if you—”
“Want to go in for something together? Or actually, you’re probably bringing something with Tommy.” He barrels through the silence on Buck’s end of the phone adding, “When is it again? I didn’t write it down…”
“Saturday.”
He’ll get himself there, he knows how to pull himself together and show up. But it’s the first time he’s going to do it alone. No wife, no squadron, no girlfriend, no kid.
They’d been living in their parents’ homes when Shannon had gotten pregnant. After they were married, they moved into their first place, starting a life together.
Not long after that, he had shipped off to Afghanistan, where his every moment was shared.
And then came Christopher and nothing has ever been the same.
Until now.
Now, for the first time in his life, Eddie is totally and completely alone.
“Don't drag him down with you, Eddie,” has chimed every hour, on the hour like a cathedral bell for six years. Don’t drag him down. Don’t ruin his life. Give him a chance. And isn’t it exactly what he went and did?
So maybe this is what’s best. He can’t hurt anyone with his steady track record of catastrophically imploding lives if he’s alone. Maybe Eddie being alone is what is best for everyone right now.
He knows, realistically that he’s not truly alone. He knows he has the 118 and all that comes with it. And even though it feels like he’ll always have Buck, Buck has a partner, a boyfriend…someone to split housewarming gifts with…He can’t have Buck like this forever. And he doesn’t have any claim to him, not really. Selfish thoughts like that are what got him into this mess in the first place.
“I’m coming over.”
“No Buck, I’m fine. I promise.”
“I’m bringing my computer, we’ll figure out what to bring to this housewarming thing together.”
He takes a look around the emptiness of his home and sighs. There’s no stopping Buck when he’s like this and selfishly (because Eddie is selfish) he doesn’t want to.
It takes Buck twenty minutes to show up on Eddie’s front steps and in that time he’s been able to quickly tidy up and cover the smell of stale air that's settled from closed doors and windows.
As he’s lighting the citrus candle he keeps in the kitchen (for nights he cooks fish) he remembers Buck had a date with Tommy tonight. They had dinner plans, Eddie’s sure of it because Buck had been going through his grocery list in the locker room this morning...
“You had a date tonight,” he says as he opens the front door. He’s not sure the tone is even half as accusatory as he intends because Buck doesn’t even pretend to flinch. “This morning, you told me you had a date.”
“I rescheduled,” Buck smiles, bright and shiny, pushing past him and into the house.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I want to be here.” It’s so sincere that Eddie thinks maybe he’ll just start crying, standing there with his hand still on the front door like an idiot.
He composes himself enough to walk towards the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge as Buck sets himself up on the couch.
“What are you watching?” Buck calls towards the kitchen. And honestly, how is Eddie supposed to explain (in a way that doesn’t sound unhinged) that he doesn’t actually watch the TV, he just leaves it on because his house is too damn quiet these days?
“Oh, I have no idea,” he shrugs simply passing Buck a beer and dropping down beside him.
They both take a long, thirst-quenching sip before Eddie sighs again, “You can’t cancel dates for me. You can’t let me blow up your life the way I blew up mine.”
“You didn’t blow up your life,” Buck reasons, opening his computer and logging in.
“Tell that to my kid’s empty bedroom." He plays with the label on the beer bottle, attempting to ignore the weight of Buck’s gaze. “Have uh, have you talked to him?”
“No,” Buck’s voice is soft and gentle as he continues. “I didn’t want to overstep.”
“I’d think he’d want to hear from you,” Eddie shrugs, blinking away tears that seem to always be threatening to escape these days. He keeps his eyes glued to the peeling label between his fingers as he adds, “I mean, no pressure, I just, I know how much you care about him…”
Buck hums and lets him continue. “And you obviously don’t have to tell me, I respect that he wants space…”
“You’re a good dad, Eddie.”
He puffs a sad, deflating laugh as he shakes his head. “It doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He braves a glance up at Buck then, catching his gaze briefly before shrugging it off. “It’ll be okay. I know it will.”
“It won’t be okay when your boyfriend kicks my ass,” Eddie attempts a little bit of levity, desperately trying to pull a smile onto his face as he does.
“He wouldn’t,” Buck laughs lightly, easing the tension in Eddie’s shoulders the instant he knocks his own against them.
“If you keep canceling dates he will. He’s enormous, he could.”
Beside him Buck shrugs, clicking away at Crate & Barrel and William Somona’s websites.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” It doesn’t seem fair that Buck can say that so simply, like it’s not a life sentence. “He knows how important you are to me. And that there’s not a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you or Chris. If that’s an issue, I’ll deal with it.”
Eddie pulls him into a hug before he can think twice about it. Buck’s arms are around him in an instant, forgetting about the computer on the coffee table, and holding Eddie together tightly.
“I don’t think I deserve that,” he mumbles into Buck’s shoulder.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same for me.”
He pulls back then to look Buck in the eye, and sags when he sees that they’re glassy like his own. “I’d do anything for you,” he admits softly.
“I know.”
“Maybe this is an opportunity,” Buck says as he pulls their second round out of the fridge. He pops open both beers, passes one to Eddie, and leans against the counter. “I know it sucks and you’re angry—”
“I’m not angry at Chris.”
“I meant at yourself…and at your parents.”
“Oh you mean because they got to swoop in like they were saving the day when all they’ve ever done is tell me I can’t handle raising my kid? They baby him because they don’t think he’s capable—”
“I know.” Buck’s blue eyes are somber, his face soft with understanding because he does know. Buck knows exactly what it’s like to have a difficult relationship with your parents while they attempt to redeem themselves decades too late.
“He wanted this. I’m trying to give him what he wants, Buck.”
“You don’t have to torture yourself in the process though. You’re allowed to forgive yourself.”
“It feels too soon to forgive myself for this one.”
“Maybe you can take this moment to figure out what it is you really want. Live the life you want, not the life you think you have to provide for other people. I mean, have you ever just lived for yourself? Done something because it’s what you wanted?”
“Pretty sure that’s what got me into this mess.”
“Maybe you need it though. Maybe there are some things you need to figure out for yourself. No one else. This could be the time to do it.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, willing himself to believe it as he takes a long sip of his beer. There’s a part of him that knows Buck is right—that he should take this time and sort himself out. The other part of him just wants to wallow…
“I think three weeks is a long enough pity party,” Buck smirks like he’s read Eddie’s mind. “I distinctly remember you telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself after one week of sulking. I gave you two extra.”
Eddie’s not the same guy he was back when he was letting himself into Buck’s place, Christopher in tow, to snap his friend out of the funk he was in from quitting the department. Back then, his walls were up so high that he didn’t realize they had started to crumble. Back then, he lived by his dad’s ‘brush it off and keep moving forward’ motto.
He’s a different man than he was four years ago, hell he’s a different man than he was four weeks ago. He wonders if it’s obvious. He wonders if Buck can look at him and see it. (If anyone could, it would be Buck.)
How can he possibly be the same when Marisol and Christopher walking through the door had been like a bucket of ice water poured over his head; like someone had broken a spell or turned on all the lights. Suddenly, it was so glaringly obvious that everything he was telling himself about his life had just been romanticized revisionist history. Everything he had been telling himself to ‘keep moving forward’ had been a lie. He had been mad at Shannon for leaving behind the life they were supposed to have but it wasn’t even a life either one of them actually wanted. Not really. Shannon had been the one brave enough to call it what it was. She had wanted a divorce. She wasn’t happy… they weren’t happy.
He can admit that now. Which is a good thing, he supposes. Except it also means that he has no clue who he is. He has no clue what he wants.
“I’ve never lived alone before,” Eddie admits softly, watching as the realization blooms across Buck’s face.
“Whoa, I never thought about that,” he says, eyes wide. “Are you…are you okay here?”
He knows Buck’s mind is flashing down the hall where he broke down Eddie’s bedroom door and patched up busted drywall. He knows Buck’s thinking about the hollow shell of a person Eddie had been when his first sessions with Frank were kicking his ass.
“I’m not going to hurt myself.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t need to,” he smiles softly. Buck may be able to read Eddie like a book but no one ever said Eddie couldn’t read him just as well. “It’s just taking some getting used to.”
“Is that why the TV is on the home shopping network?”
“Maybe,” Eddie breathes a laugh, once again giving himself over to the way Buck eases the tension from his shoulders. “I know that face,” he warns, smirk lingering.
“What face?”
“I’m fine Buck, you don’t need to rearrange your life for me. I wouldn’t want you to.”
From where he’s standing, he already asks far too much of Buck. If the roles were reversed, of course, would he do whatever Buck asked. He’d go over a cliff, walk through fire, whatever, he’d do it all for Buck. Of course, he would.
But he is not Buck. Buck is vibrant and kind. Buck doesn’t keep dragging the people he cares about down…
“But you’ll call me if you need me? Like, you won’t pretend everything’s okay because you don’t want to bother me, right? You’d tell me.”
“I’ll tell you.”
“You have to.”
“I will.”
“I mean it Eddie, there’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you.” He says it like Eddie could have ever doubted it for a second. They've been here a million times before, the 'you can have my back any day' promise, the 'there's no one I trust more' reassurance. For some reason, none of it feels like enough tonight. So Eddie says the thing he usually leaves to implication...
“I love you.” They're three simple words he's always felt but never said to Buck. Not out loud. Not so explicitly. But it feels right, to say them now.
Across the kitchen, under the glow of the lonely stove light and a citrus candle, Buck inhales deeply and lets his whole body relax on the, “I love you too.”