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“Tommy, please don’t do this.” Evan Buckley whispered. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he made no attempt to wipe it away, he just stared at their intertwined hands Tommy’s rubbing small circles around Evan’s. The two of them sat there in silence, the only sound seeming to be the beeping of the heart monitor from the cold, white, clinical room in front of them, the only sign that Eddie Diaz was still alive. Buck didn’t need to look through the window to see that Eddie still had his eyes closed, a tube down his throat, IVs attached to both arms, delivering medication and fluids into his veins. He would still look pale, a combination of the harsh hospital light and the blood he’d lost, a stark contrast to his naturally tanned skin. But at least he was still breathing, his heart still beating. The thought that he still had some fight in him was a strangely reassuring one. He had to come back.
“Evan, I have to.” Tommy broke the silence with a firm voice. “I don’t want to, but-”
“Then don’t!” Buck yelled, attracting the attention of the nurses down the corridor, who were looking as if they didn’t want to watch, yet desperate to figure out the connection between their patient and the two men on the bench. When Eddie had been brought in, the younger man, Evan, or Buck as most people (except for the older man that was holding his hand) called him, had been so distraught that he was taken to a private room to calm down. And then he left and came back with a teenager, who everyone assumed was the son of either Buck or Eddie, or even both, and ushered him to the chair by the bed. No one batted an eye, and no one had even uttered the rule that the ICU was adults only, because this kid looked like Hell. The echoes of the doctor that Eddie might not even wake up played on their minds, and no one, not even the formidable senior nurse on the floor was heartless enough to keep this kid from seeing someone that was so important to him.
“Evan, please.” Tommy soothed quietly, glancing up at the nurses’ station and mouthing “sorry” at them. “You have enough to worry about right now. Your family needs you.”
“And I need you. I can’t...I’m not strong enough to go through this without you, Tommy. Please, just...whatever I did, I can fix it.” Buck slipped his hand from under Tommy’s and wiped his wet cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. No, Eddie’s hoodie. And Tommy didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before now. Those two men, their lives were so intertwined that no one could untangle them. There were clothes in Buck's apartment that didn’t belong to him. Eddie’s t-shirts, sweatpants, hoodies, even underwear. Books, notepads, shoes and even a spare pair of crutches that belonged to Christopher. The kid even had a drawer of spare clothes there. They both had their own names on the Netflix account on Buck’s TV. The console beneath it had games installed that were just for Christopher, and Buck didn’t dare delete any of them without checking if it was OK first. One family in two different homes. Like separated parents who had joint custody of their kid.
“Evan, baby, you did nothing wrong. You have been great, I promise. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t come between the two of you. I thought I was OK with this, I tried to come to terms with the fact that I was third in the pecking order, but I can’t.” Tommy sighed. “You two-”
“Buck!” A voice from across the corridor cut him off, and he watched as Buck looked up to see an older man and woman stride towards them. “We got here as fast as we could, how is he?” The man asked. Buck stood up and met them halfway, his long legs only needing to take a couple of strides to get to them.
“He’s...he’s still here.” Buck’s voice sounded weary, older than his 33 years, and he pulled the woman in for a comforting hug, then glanced back at the room. “They won’t know the full extent of his injuries until he wakes up. He’s in an induced coma, he’s broken his leg in three places, the bone cut through the femoral vein, and he almost bled out. He would have, if...”
“If you hadn’t been there.” The man finished. “We’re glad you were right beside him.” Buck nodded slightly.
“So am I. They found a bleed on his brain, hence the induced coma. They’re going to keep him in it for a couple of days, then reduce the medication to try and wake him up. I just hope...”
“We all do.” The man tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it fell flat. He looked exhausted, and Tommy guessed that they’d been travelling for a while to get there. “Where’s Christopher?”
“Hen took him to her place, he’s staying there tonight, and I’ll pick him up in the morning and take him back home.” Buck replied. “I promised I’d stay with him until Eddie recovered. I can sleep on the couch, and I’ll be there to take him to school and pick him up when I’m not working, and Carla is there for the rest of the time.” He assured them. “And when he’s discharged, I can stay for however long it takes for Eddie to get back to normal. Or Chris can stay with me, whatever is best for both of them.”
“You don’t have to do that, Buck. We can stay with him, and once Eddie gets home, he can come back to Texas with us.” The woman suggested. Tommy could swear he saw Buck’s eyes narrow as he shook his head emphatically.
“He needs to be in Los Angeles. He needs to be in school, go to his PT appointments, have some stability. I’m his legal guardian, and I do not want him leaving the city.” Tommy’s eyes widened, as did the ones of the two people in front of him.
“His legal...what are you talking about? He’s our grandson, and I think we know what’s best for him.” The man, who Tommy now knew was probably Eddie’s father, hissed, but Buck ignored him and pulled out his phone. Tapping at it a few times, he pulled up something on the screen and thrust it into Eddie’s father’s hands.
“I, Edmundo Diaz, appoint Evan Buckley as my son, Christopher Diaz’s legal guardian in case of death or incapacity. Mr. Buckley will have full parental rights over Christopher Diaz, and can make decisions regarding his care, housing and any other aspects of his life. In addition to this, Mr. Buckley has permission to make any medical decisions regarding my care if I am unable to do so.” He read out loud, passing the phone to his wife. “When...when was this drawn up?”
“After the well collapse a few years ago, Eddie made me Christopher’s guardian in case of death. And around a year ago, we spoke about what would happen if there was a situation like this. Chris needs stability in his life, and he said he didn’t want to go back to El Paso if anything were to happen, so Eddie went to his lawyer, and they drafted this arrangement.” Buck explained, sliding the phone back from Eddie’s mom’s hand. “And while I appreciate that you want to help, I have the final say.”
“This...this can’t be real.” His father started before his wife talked over him.
“Eddie is our son; Christopher is our grandson. We know what’s best for both of them. Why would he do something like this? This doesn’t make sense.” She exclaimed.
“No offense, Helena, but I have been there for them for seven years now. I also know what’s best for them, and taking Christopher to El Paso is not it. Not for Christopher and not for Eddie. You have every right to fight this, but it’ll probably take months, and by the time you do, Eddie will hopefully be awake and be able to tell you that this is what he wants. Now can I suggest that you go and see your son, and the four of us, including Christopher, can talk about it tomorrow?” Buck said pointedly, and dejectedly, the two figures crept over to the room and stared through the window before opening the door and walking in, closing it behind them, a clear message that they didn’t want Buck in there.
“You handled that well.” Tommy’s voice seemed to come from somewhere far away in Buck’s mind, and he almost didn’t notice that the man was standing beside him until he felt a hand on his arm. “I can see why Eddie made that decision. Stay strong, don’t let them grind you down, and let me know if anything changes.” He said. Buck swallowed noisily and nodded slightly, his eyes staring straight ahead into that room. “And please, as soon he wakes up, tell him how you feel.” It took a minute for his brain to catch up, and by the time it did, Tommy was already through the double doors, heading towards the elevator. Buck’s legs didn’t seem to want to move, so he took out his phone again and sent him a message.
Buck: Tell him what?
Tommy: You already know.
---
Four days later
Eddie felt like he’d been hit by a bus. His head hurt, his eyes wouldn’t open, and his right leg felt stiff. Letting out a light groan, he winced, his throat felt like he’d been eating sand for days. Something tightened around his arm, and then something else around his hand. Something warm, soft and comforting. Mustering up all the strength he had, he managed to open one eye, and it met a bright blue one staring right back at him.
“Hey, welcome back.” Buck smiled slightly, and Eddie moved his arm until their palms were resting against each other, then interlaced their fingers and squeezed back, a gentle reassurance.
“You look like Hell.” Eddie murmured, his voice coming out raw and gravelly. And even in his still-sleepy brain, he knew that wasn’t the best thing he could have said. But Buck just let out a light laugh.
“Could say the same thing about you, Diaz.” But in all honesty, Buck did look terrible, and he knew he did. His hair was sticking up at angles, curls roaming free, not tamed like they usually were. There were bags under his eyes, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week, and the stubble on his face looked as if it had been there for at least three days, if not more.
“What...?” Eddie forced out, and Buck’s free hand crept up to move an errant hair from Eddie’s forehead, but he didn’t say anything.
“A beam fell, knocked you out.” Another voice, Bobby’s this time, came from the other side of the bed. “You had a compound fracture to your leg that tore through the femoral artery, and two closed fractures further down. Buck carried you right out over his shoulder, and managed to stop the bleeding. You had a small bleed to your brain.” The Captain explained, and Eddie listened, but didn’t take his eyes away from Buck for a second.
“Thanks.” Eddie whispered.
“I’ve got your back, remember?” Buck reminded him, and Eddie nodded, not hearing Bobby say that he’d give them a moment, or even noticing him leave until the door closed with a soft click. “Think I’d leave you there? I love you too much for that.” There was an edge to his voice, it quivered slightly, and Eddie squeezed his hand again.
“I know.” The monitor beeped noisily, and Buck’s head whipped around to look at it. Eddie knew what it was saying, though. Those words made his heart feel like a herd of zebras was running through it, and that was probably reflected in that display. “I love you too.”
And of all the ways and all the places that he thought he’d say those words, this hadn’t even made his list. There had been, he was ashamed to admit, probably about a hundred different scenarios where he finally said those words out loud. At the firehouse when there was a quiet moment between them. At home watching a movie. Making dinner together. Not in the hospital, having just woken up from a coma.
“Uh, that’s, that’s good.” Buck stammered. “But I’m...I’m in love with you, Eddie. And if that’s not something you want-”
“It’s all I want.” Eddie interrupted before Buck tried to take his words back. “But Tommy?” He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. Because the last thing he remembered in the rig before that fire was Buck talking about the date they were going on the next night. Some fancy dinner party held by some movie director that Tommy had rescued. Chris Pratt was going to be there, so was Paul Rudd and a whole list of people that had Buck really excited.
“Tommy dumped me. Again.” Buck replied simply. “Said he didn’t want to be third best. And then your parents came in and tried to tell me that they were taking Chris back with them when you got out of here, but I set them straight.” Eddie could only imagine what his parents would have to say about his wishes regarding Chris, but they could talk about that later, because right now he was awake, and OK, in a little pain, and probably not going to be able to walk for months, and would need Buck’s help with pretty much everything. But that didn’t matter, because that accident had brought him something he didn’t think he could ever have.
“So, who’s first best and who’s second best?” A teasing smile crossed his lips, and Buck broke into a grin for what was probably the first time in days.
“Well, Edmundo...” Buck started, leaning down to brush his lips against Eddie’s dry ones. “That would be telling.”