Chapter Text
For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck wakes to a still-snoring Eddie and sunlight streaming in through a crack in the blinds that never seems to fully close. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck begins his morning ritual of disentangling his limbs from Eddie’s as stealthily as possible to avoid waking his friend. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck vows that tonight is going to be different because he’ll build a pillow wall, or fall asleep first, or just magically develop enough resolve not to cling to Eddie. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck tries not to admit that he’s lying to himself about tonight; he knows he’ll hear those soft sobs coming from the right side of the bed and he’ll be powerless to do anything but pull Eddie in, stroking his hair until he manages to sleep. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck meanders across the hallway to the bathroom, brushing his teeth with the toothbrush he’d stashed at Eddie’s months ago. For the fifteenth consecutive day, he tries not to wonder if Marisol ever questioned the toothbrush or all the other little pieces of Buck that are scattered throughout. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck creeps down into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and start on breakfast for him and Eddie, moving around the space with an ease he doesn’t feel anywhere but Eddie’s house. Then, for the fifteenth consecutive day, Buck texts his boyfriend to say good morning.
Eddie comes rumbling down the stairs twenty minutes later, the smell of garlic and thyme scenting the air as Buck pulls his latest creation from the oven.
“It’s a quiche!” Buck beams, and Eddie wonders how anyone can be so goddamn chipper at this hour.
“It’s 7am. On a Saturday. That we don’t work.” Eddie tries very hard to recall his therapist’s advice around misplaced anger and how he shouldn’t direct it at his loved ones when they’ve done nothing wrong. Then, he thinks that Buck waking him at the crack of dawn when neither of them have anywhere to be was wrong, and decides he’s allowed to be grumpy.
“Routines are very important when you’re struggling, days off don’t get to be days spent wallowing in bed,” Buck chides, and Eddie really regrets telling him everything his therapist said in their first session.
“If I recall correctly, when you were struggling with the blood clots, we let you wallow,” As soon as Eddie says it, he knows it’s a mistake.
“Well, you let me wallow for a day,” Buck trails off and Eddie understands. When he needed to pull Buck back from the grief of potentially losing his career, his identity, Eddie had tossed his kid at Buck and given him a purpose. But Eddie’s grief is because he’s lost his identity as a father, and there’s no Chris around to patch the hole in his heart.
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs under his breath before clearing his throat. “The quiche does smell good, thank you for cooking.”
“It’s a new recipe,” Buck says with a grin, “At least, it’s the first time I’ve tried it. Remember when those ladies at the farmer’s market talked our ears off about all the different ways they’ve fucked up pastry? Well, one of them swore that she had a foolproof method, slipped me the recipe card before we left!”
Eddie can feel the stupid grin on his face as his best friend continues to babble on about a day they’d shared months prior, in the brief interlude between Buck dying and before either of them embarked on yet another failed relationship.
“We should do that again,” Eddie says as Buck takes a breather from his storytelling. “The farmer’s market, I mean.”
“Totally, all the summer berries are going to be in season soon and I want to give pie a shot, now that I’ve got pastry mastered,” There is a stupidly proud smile on Buck’s face.
“Okay, you made pastry once and it didn’t suck, I don’t know that you’re considered a master based on that alone,” His eyes are rolling but there’s the silly little fondness in his voice that he just can’t seem to rid himself of.
“Going to make you eat your words and my pie, pastry is way easier that everyone says it is.”
With a shake of his head, Eddie opts not to continue arguing about pastry and Buck’s level of expertise with it. If he’s being honest with himself, the pastry on the quiche is pretty good, and Buck has always had a talent in the kitchen. He’s sure that there will be plenty of ribbing for Buck’s first few attempts, but damn if he isn’t also sure that Buck will make a pretty damn good pie eventually.
“So, farmer’s market today?” Eddie asks with a grin, though Buck’s expression immediately shutters.
“We can’t today. Athena needs us to pick up the couch she ordered and drop it at the loft. I think she was also hoping you’d keep Bobby company this evening, she’s got her first shift back but it’s hard for her to leave him alone,” Buck announces.
“And where will you be?”
“Hmm?”
“You said that Athena wants me to keep Bobby company, presumably on this new couch she’s buying for your loft. What plans do you have?”
Buck kisses his teeth, eyes shifting away from Eddie’s before he speaks. “On a date. Tommy wants to do something because I haven’t seen much of him lately.”
“Oh.”
Eddie tries to keep his expression neutral, but there’s a crush of emotions that he’s experiencing all at once. There’s the onslaught of guilt that he’s keeping his best friend apart from his relationship, ruining something yet again for someone he cares about. The sense of loss that Eddie has been toting around lately feels heavier too; when he lost Chris, that loss felt like a building sat on his chest, but Buck wormed under that building with him and lightened the load, now he fears he’ll have to face it all again. Interestingly, there is the spark of something angry and ugly and bitter that flashes through Eddie, the one that wants to tell Buck not to go on this date, that Tommy isn’t the right boyfriend for Buck, that if he has to hear that man call Buck Evan one more time, Eddie might throw a fist. He restrains himself from saying any of that.
“Where’s he taking you?” Eddie finally asks.
“We’re not going out, I’m, uh, I’m going to his place to make dinner.”
More of that ugly emotion that Eddie refuses to name rushes through him. This morning, he gets Buck and his homemade breakfast, but tonight Buck will be in another man’s kitchen, making that other man dinner. God, what if Buck spends the night at Tommy’s, Eddie panics. In his spiral, the righteous anger soon follows; because how dare Tommy invite Buck over just to have him cook? They haven’t been on a date in more than a week and he can’t be bothered to plan something more elaborate? Something that would make Buck feel special?
“You shouldn’t have to cook for him,” Eddie’s voice is stern, and while he recognizes the irony of this conversation occurring over the meal Buck cooked for him, Eddie can’t bring himself to care.
“I offered,” Buck is quick to confirm. “He said we could do takeout, but I figured I’d make that risotto you like - it’s always a hit at the station too.”
Eddie’s not exactly sure what is wrong with him, but he knows he should not feel possessive over risotto.
“Plus, I’m not exactly winning boyfriend of the year right now, so I'm hoping that this makes up for it a bit,” Buck finishes. And there’s the guilt again.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that man, if I’d just,” Eddie starts, but he’s not really sure how that sentence ends. If he’d just ignored Kim and muddled his way through a relationship with Marisol until she tried to get too close again? If he’d never run into her at the hardware store and waited until the next attractive woman came along, looking to play house with him and his son? If he’d never let Shannon back into his life, only to lose her all over again? Only for his son to lose his mother all over again?
“If I’d handled things differently, I wouldn’t have driven Chris away and you wouldn’t be dealing with my mess,” Eddie decides.
“Eddie, come on. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing more than dealing with your mess. That was the agreement, right? I have your back, you have mine?” Buck reaches across the table to grasp Eddie’s shoulder, thumb stroking along his collarbone while Eddie nods, fighting tears. “I’m going to be better about managing my time so that I see Tommy more, but that’s my responsibility, not yours. You can trust that when I’m with you, there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
A couple tears do fall then, Eddie wipes them away and shakes his head like that’ll shake those emotions out of his system. It doesn’t work, but Eddie puts his brave face on and leans into Buck’s touch a little further, just for a second, before he stands to clear the dishes.
“I’ll clean up down here,” Eddie calls, halfway to the kitchen already. “You shower, get ready for the day - god knows you take longer in there than I do.”
“Takes time to look this good!” Buck taunts with a scoff, already heading down the hall.
Eddie tries not to think about just how good Buck looks for the rest of the morning.
After a morning of maneuvering a too-long L-shaped sectional into Eddie’s truck and then into Buc’s loft, Buck finally bids his captain and best friend goodbye. Athena had left several hours prior for her shift, but Buck had spent the entire day never further than arm’s length from Eddie. Though it felt strange to say goodbye, Eddie watched as his best friend drove off in his own car, heading across town for a date (Eddie continued to try desperately to rid the bitterness from that phrase). When he was gone, Eddie flopped down on the new couch, next to Bobby, resuming a conversation from earlier that day.
“God, he sucks so bad,” Eddie vents at his captain.
“He really does, right? I’m trying to be positive about the whole thing, but he’s a total dick,” Bobby agrees.
In all his years working for the older man, Eddie’s not sure that he’s ever heard him say anything with such an utter lack of diplomacy.
“Holy shit, you hate the guy!”
“Eddie, he stole my firehouse from me a week after I nearly died. Yeah, I hate the man,” Bobby admits.
The two of them are half way through a pint of ice cream, and they have a second chilling in the freezer. It’s strange, Eddie thinks, to be sitting in Buck’s loft with his now former, soon to be current boss (at his therapist’s instruction, Eddie is letting himself hope for good things), bitching about his active captain. But it’s also kind of nice? Eddie knows that he’ll never have the relationship with Bobby that he best friend does, but Bobby was the man who welcomed him into the fold of the 118. Welcomed him in and basically parked him next to Buck, despite his best friend’s resistance, telling the two of them to figure it out. Welcomed him and Chris into the station, into their homes, into the very fabric of their lives and Eddie can’t help but admit that without that support system, Kim would be the very least of his troubles.
“Bobby, I know I’ve fucked up before, said cruel things to you that you didn’t deserve,” Eddie starts.
“You’ve already apologized for that, Eddie. We’re well past it,” Bobby assures him.
“I know, but in an effort to really heal this time, I want to say it again. I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you, it’s something I’m working on, but I want you to know that you’ve saved more lives than any of us could count, even if we’re not on calls,” Eddie can feel himself choking up, but he raises a hand to stop Bobby when it looks like he’s about to interrupt.
“If I hadn’t found the 118, if you hadn’t introduced me to this team, I don’t think I’d be alive. When Chris and I first got here, I was running from my parents, running from the shame of Shannon leaving, running from the guilt of running from my son. If I’d been dropped into some station being led by a Gerrard-type, I know I’d have spiraled within the year, probably lost Chris, who knows what would have happened with Shannon. And I know, I know I fucked up, but because of you, because of all the people I have in my life because of you , I’m still trying to pick up the pieces. So, thank you,” Eddie finishes and he can feel the tears leaking out. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever cried so often in his life.
“Eddie, I know this kind of thing isn’t easy for you, but I want you to know how much I appreciate it. You’re a good man, a good father, and you’re healing,” Bobby comforts.
“Sometimes it feels like I’m not even a father anymore, like that title got stripped when Chris chose my parents over me,” Eddie admits.
“My kids died in a fire that I was responsible for, Eddie,” Bobby sighs. “The pain that you’re feeling, I understand it more than most, but one thing that you’ll come to realize is that you’re always going to be Chris’s dad. Even when he hates you, even when he’s not around, you’re his father because that love will never go away.”
The sobs come then, because Bobby’s right, whether or not Chris is speaking to him, Eddie loves that kid more than he thought himself capable. And yeah, him being gone feels akin to a lost limb, but Eddie knows exactly how that limb would fit back onto his body. Bobby wraps him in a tight hug, perhaps their first since the afternoon he left Shannon’s corpse in a hospital room, and Eddie thinks that they ought to do it more often. Hugging his friends seems like a simple way to feel more connected, more grounded in those relationships, so Eddie decides he’ll do it more often.
A ping from a phone startles the pair of them for an unexpectedly emotional conversation.
“How’s Bobby?” the text reads, though Eddie’s surprised to find that the ping came from his phone and the sender was Athena Grant.
“I think they’re checking in on us, cap,” Eddie grins.
“I love my wife, but if she doesn’t stop fussing over me soon, I’m going to see if Michael and David need some fire safety tips in Haiti,” Bobby jokes.
“We are fine, Athena. Ice cream and a Marvel marathon. Apparently Buck thinks that we both need to up our cultural consciousness.” Eddie sends back.
“You’re taking advice from Buck?” She sends, quickly followed by, “Kidding. That boy loves you both too much to steer you wrong. Have fun.”
“Should I be offended that she didn’t text me?” Bobby asks with a laugh.
“She probably knows that you’d be booking the next flight to Haiti,” Eddie grins.
The two share a laugh before refocusing their attention to the movie that plays on Buck’s flat screen. Eddie tries not to think too hard about Buck, sitting alone in his apartment in his single chair, watching the same screen. Instead, he thinks of all the times that he, Chris, and Buck dragged dining room chairs into the den and played video games until their thumbs were sore and it brings a smile back to Eddie’s face. There’s a small part of him that wonders if it will ever be that way again; even if Chris comes back, Athena and Bobby are living in the loft and furnished it with a couch, and Buck has Tommy, and maybe there will never be another Diaz-Buckley virtual marathon like they’d held earlier that year. That thought sends Eddie down a tailspin of what ifs that he can’t fully backtrack. Like what if Chris doesn’t come back? What if Buck never moves back into the loft? What if Buck stays with him? What if Buck moves in with Tommy?
That last thought may have made him physically retch.
“All good?” Bobby asks, pausing the film.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie states unconvincingly. “You like Tommy, right? For Buck?”
“I like that flew you guys into a storm and helped save my wife and I’s lives, and I guess I like that Buck got to find out this new thing about himself. But in terms of how I see Tommy as a person? It’s complicated,” Bobby sighs. “When I got to the 118, right after Gerrard left, the culture was …different. Tommy was a part of that culture for a long time, and at some point, it was easier to start fresh than to try and force him into my mold.”
“What does that mean?”
“Have you talked to Chim or Hen about him?” Bobby inquires.
“Not yet, I thought that they were friendly,” Eddie hedges.
“I think it’s more a time-heals-all-wounds thing for both of them, from what I know, Tommy was pretty awful to the both of them when they started, but you should ask them about that.”
Eddie ponders that thought while the movie continues to play. All this time he thought Tommy was a nice enough guy, though a terrible boyfriend. If he really was as awful to Chim and Hen as Bobby is insinuating, would Buck even want to date him? How ethical would it be for Eddie to tell Buck about Bobby’s speculations behind Hen and Chim’s backs? He’d tell them later, of course, but if Tommy is awful as he’s picturing, would Eddie be sort of heroic for chasing him out sooner rather than later?
On that particular thought, a phone buzzes again. It’s not Eddie’s this time, but Bobby immediately flashes the message at him.
“hey cap! how are things going with you guys? hope you’re not thinking of replacing me with eddie, my lasagna is waaaaaaay better xoxo <3”
Buck arrives at Tommy’s house ten minutes earlier than he’d planned, so he’s not entirely shocked to find the driveway empty and door locked. There’s every possibility in the world that Tommy just ran out to get a few last minute items for their date, so Buck makes himself comfortable on the front porch. He sets the bags of groceries he’d purchased on his way over at his feet and tries not to think about what LA heat will do to the chicken he’s brought over an extended period.
While he waits, he shoots a text over to Bobby, a thinly veiled ask for a status update on his best friend.
“We’re fine. Enjoy your date.” is the message he receives back.
Buck honestly can’t tell which one of them drafted that message, but he is positive that Bobby immediately shared Buck’s text with Eddie when his phone pings a second time.
“No need to check in with my babysitter all night. I’ll behave.”
Buck laughs at that before composing a text of his own, “has athena texted you yet?? i get the sense that you’re on babysitting duty just as much as bobby is”
“HA! So you admit it, you are having me babysat.”
“no, dumbass, I’m making sure that my best friend leans on his support network as he gets through a difficult time.”
“Ugh. I hate when you’re the rational one in this friendship.”
Buck taps at his phone a little while longer, contemplating what exactly to say to that when a second message from Eddie comes through.
“Are you holding back a dead wife doppelganger joke right now?”
“no!!!!! i figured we have a moratorium on those until chris gets back.”
“Maybe at least until he calls.”
“it’ll happen soon, i can feel it, Eds.”
A pause in Eddie’s responses draws Buck’s focus back to the empty driveway, with the clock ticking past the hour, Tommy is officially 10 minutes late to a date at his own house. Buck shoots a quick text over to his boyfriend to confirm their plans, but a response is not quick to come. The sun continues to beat down on the uncovered porch, so Buck makes a judgment call and stashes the groceries behind a shrub in a shaded area to mitigate the heat. Once he’s repositioned, he hears his phone ding again.
“I want to believe you.” Eddie sends. In a second message, “How’s the date going? Thought you’d be busy cooking by now.”
Buck hesitates before replying. He’s not exactly sure why, but he doesn't particularly want to tell Eddie that Tommy is now pushing 20 minutes late without any sort of communication to indicate why or when to expect him. Maybe it’s because Eddie and Tommy were friends first and Buck doesn't want either to think that he’s trying to interfere with that friendship. Maybe it’s because Buck wants, for the first time ever, Eddie to like one of his partners. Maybe it’s because Buck knows that while he’ll forgive this, move on in an effort to keep Tommy, Eddie won’t and it’ll be all the more humiliating when Buck manages to screw it all up. Regardless of why or why not, Buck does not keep secrets from Eddie; that was a rule that was formally instituted after the Kim run-in, though Buck has been bad at keeping secrets from Eddie since the day that they met.
“tommy’s running late i guess, he’s not home so i’m just waiting on the front porch.”
“Well where is he?”
“idk, we were supposed to meet here at 6. i texted like 10 minutes ago but haven’t heard back.” Buck sends it, and immediately follows with something more lighthearted. “hey, how long do u think it would take for raw chicken to go bad in 94 degree weather?”
“Longer than 20 minutes.” Eddie replies instantly. “Let me come get you? I don’t like the thought of you sitting outside all night.”
“Eddie, it’ll be daylight for hours and he’s only a little late. AND i have my car? i’ll see you at home, ok?”
‘Okay. Be safe. Text me if you need anything.”
Buck wants to cry a little when he reads that text because he knows what Eddie is going through, how difficult this stretch of life has been, and yet? And yet, Eddie is promising to be there for Buck if he needs anything, promising to make the 40 minutes-on-a-good-day, 2 hours-on-a-bad-day trek across LA, promising to take care of Buck. Yeah, Buck is feeling entirely too emotional to deal with that messy thread, so he flips over to Candy Crush and spends the next hour killing time.
By the time 7pm rolls around, Buck’s entertaining the idea of leaving. Maybe he got the day wrong? No, it can’t be that, they’d confirmed today’s date in their messages from the day prior. Maybe Tommy picked up a shift and got hurt? God, Buck would feel like an ass if he sat on the front stoop complaining about tardiness if his boyfriend was laid up in a hospital bed. Before he could spiral any further into his what-ifs and maybes, a white SUV pulls into the driveway. Buck can see the little uber sticker in the dash, which would be confusing, but then he watches as Abby stumbles out of the back seat.
“Buck! Oh my god, what are you doing here?” She giggles before sticking her head back into the backseat of the car, “Tommy, you’ll never believe it, my ex-boyfriend is here!”
It’s only a little hurtful when Buck hears a loud guffaw come from the car.
“ You dated Evan ?” The same voice asks, incredulous. And yeah, that one was a little more hurtful.
“For like 6 months, he was the first guy I dated after you,” Buck can hear Abby say.
Buck finally clears his throat to speak, “Funny seeing you here, let’s, uh, let’s get us all inside, I guess.”
Meeting them at the car, Buck allows both of them to lean against his shoulders as they all hobble towards the front door. Tommy unceremoniously passes Buck the key ring, while Abby points out the proper key. Buck resists the urge to stab her with it. Once he gets them inside and situated, Buck returns to the front porch for his groceries, dragging them inside. He settles both Tommy and Abby on the couch, shoves glasses of water at them both and debates with himself as to how exactly he’ll ask for an explanation.
“Evan, quit it with the puppy dog eyes. Abby texted this morning that she was back in LA so we caught up over drinks. The time got away from us,” Tommy huffs out, clearly exasperated.
“Right, of course. It’s fine, I’ll start on dinner,” Buck excuses himself to the kitchen.
The first twenty minutes, Buck mostly spends familiarizing himself with the space. He can’t recall the last time he cooked in a kitchen that he felt so lost in; nowadays, he’ll cook at the loft, at the station, occasionally at Maddie & Chim’s, and, most frequently, at Eddie’s. He feels a little like a kid, fumbling around the kitchen to slap together a meal while the grownups have their own conversation in the room over. Buck queues up a podcast on his phone and does his best to stop thinking altogether.
It’s nearly 8 o’clock by the time the meal is ready to be served, both Tommy and Abby have sobered considerably, but it’s become increasingly clear to Buck that any dreams of a date with his boyfriend ought to be put to bed. Abby wanders into the kitchen first, seating herself at the square table, Tommy follows, sitting at her left. Buck plates up and serves the food, all while trying to figure out where exactly he is supposed to sit. Would it be weirder to sit next to Tommy but directly across from Abby or to sit next to Abby but directly across from Tommy? Ultimately he decides to sit next to Tommy and vows he’ll make as little eye contact with Abby as possible.
That particular vow proves to be difficult when the woman dominates most of the conversation, filling Buck in on her recent divorce and her new lease on life. She shares that she’ll be traveling again but plans to be based out of LA going forward and intimates that she’s looking forward to more nights like this one. Buck has to bite his tongue to keep himself from voicing his disapproval. It’s hurtful, sure, to hear her talk about all of this. Even more hurtful that Buck wasn’t even the ex-boyfriend she wanted to talk to, but it seems to dawn on Buck, finally, why they’d never have worked. Abby chased impermanence, she wanted to be able to up and go whenever she pleased, wanted to free herself from connections and ties so that no one could ever hold her back again. Buck wanted someone to intertwine every aspect of their life with his, wanted to create a web so complicated that even the thought of undoing it was enough to force them to stay instead, wanted to burrow so deeply into his soul that permanence was a foregone conclusion. Of course, he and Tommy had only been seeing each other for a couple months, but he could be that, couldn’t he?
“You weren’t this good of a cook when we were together,” Abby announces with a groan.
And sure, that’s true, but ouch? It’s one thing for his boyfriend to show up an hour late, drunk, with his ex-girlfriend to their date, but it’s another thing entirely to be reminded by said ex-girlfriend about all his faults and failings.
Buck’s mood isn’t helped by the fact that his boyfriend seems to disagree with their shared ex-girlfriend. Tommy looks to have made some headway into the chicken, but has largely pushed the risotto around his plate rather than actually eating it.
“All good, babe?” Buck asks.
“I’m not really into all the fancy shit,” Tommy announces. To his credit, he does try to walk it back when he sees Buck flinch. “I just mean, I’m more of a burger kind of guy. You know, fries, a milkshake, maybe some pizza?”
“Right, sure. I should have known that,” Buck scolds himself quietly.
“All good, Evan. It just means you don’t have to try so hard, god, I can’t believe you actually went to all this trouble,” Tommy says with a laugh.
Buck nods along until he can excuse himself from the table to clean up. He knows that Tommy wasn’t trying to be mean, but a small part of him felt like a child begging the cool kids likemelikemelikeme only to have them laugh in his face.
And yeah, that sucks. But Buck knows he should have taken Tommy's preferences into account, he should have asked him what he’d like to eat. It’s just that Buck has spent so long cooking for Eddie and Chris, both of whom make the perfect guinea pigs for whatever creation Buck dreams up. But it’s fine; not everyone is an adventurous eater, and maybe Tommy's palate will expand as they spend more time together! Even if it doesn’t, it’ll be a good challenge for him to see what he can make while still appealing to Tommy.
With the kitchen cleared, Buck heads back out to the dining area where Tommy and Abby are splitting a bottle of wine. They’re courteous enough to ask Buck to join them, but Buck excuses himself anyways, not wanting to have to uber home and leave his car. With a promise to see them both soon, Buck walks out the front door. It only stings a little when he passes a delivery driver with a burger bag in hand.
“Buck! I know you’re home, I saw your car,” Eddie shouts as soon as he pushes the front door open.
“Yeah, and you looked real hard for me,” Buck laughs from his perch on the couch.
“How’d your date go?” Eddie is trying to sound casual, and not at all like even the mention of Tommy is going to make him sick.
When his question is met by nothing but a prolonged groan, Eddie thinks (hopes) that maybe the tardiness finally brought an end to this relationship.
“Do you remember Abby?” Buck asks, much to Eddie’s shock.
“Uh, yeah. You dated her before I moved to LA, she ghosted you, and then had you risk your life to save the fiance she neglected to mention. Sort of a bitch,” Eddie summarizes which earns him a light laugh from Buck, that, in turn, makes his stomach feel all fluttery.
“Well apparently before she dated me, she dated Tommy. They were ‘reconnecting’ over drinks this afternoon because Abby’s moving back to LA, and is no longer with said fiance,” The admission leaves Buck in a rush.
“Holy shit,” Eddie can’t help it. “I mean, wow, that’s a lot to handle. Did Tommy say why she and the fiance split?”
“No, but Abby did. Apparently, he was too stable, she wants to continue living a life of adventure,” Buck can’t help it if a dash of sarcasm slides into his tone.
“Holy shit,” Again, he really can’t help it. “Was Abby there ?”
“Oh yeah, the two of them pulled up, an hour late and absolutely loaded. So that was a fun evening,” Buck rolls his eyes.
“Well, I’m sure you risotto stole the show and saved the night,” Eddie prods. Buck groans.
“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, tonight I am going to shower off my humiliation and look up burger recipes.”
“Huh?”
“Tomorrow!”
Eddie lets Buck leave it at that; his normally soft footsteps are louder as they pad towards the bathroom in an angry gait. Still, Eddie listens as Buck opens and closes the door softly, his gentleness present even when it’s difficult. Once he’s alone on the couch, Eddie picks up the notebook that rests on his coffee table and wanders into the kitchen. For the fifteenth consecutive day, Eddie goes about his nightly routine.
At his dining room table, he drinks a mug of peppermint tea while bitterly completing the journaling exercises that his therapist assigned him. It’s difficult, especially when he’s had a good day, to recenter himself in that headspace, where he’s thinking of Chris and all the ways he feels like a failure as a father. Today’s prompt asks Eddie to think about what he wants, and that feels like the most impossible question of them all because Eddie has no idea what he wants. And even if he did, there’s a voice in the back of his head that says that putting it out into the universe only exposes him to more hurt. So, in his chicken scratch, Eddie answers as conservatively as he can while still being honest.
I want my family back. I want to be a better father and I want to be able to fill the space that his mother’s death left. I want a partner that loves my son but also loves me.
With that, Eddie sets the notebook down and, as he does every night, texts Chris with a quick summary of his day and an assurance of his love. As he does every night, Eddie waits 10 minutes for a reaction, before locking his phone and heading to the bathroom to wash up.
When his teeth are brushed, face washed, and skin moisturized (May Grant insisted that no one can fully have their life together until they start regularly moisturizing), Eddie walks into his bedroom. Buck sits in bed, the reading glasses that no one is supposed to know about are hanging off of his nose, and his phone is open to a random wikipedia page.
“Dork,” Eddie teases fondly.
“Please, you love my random facts,” Buck scoffs.
“Unfortunately, I do,” Eddie reluctantly admits.
Eddie climbs into bed before shutting his lamp off, it’s ritualistic at this point. While the lights are on, they’re still BuckandEddie , best friends who laugh and joke and Eddie feels like everything is just fine. It’s when the darkness rushes over him, and all Eddie can feel is the pieces of himself that he’s lost. The soldiers he’d saved, a family in El Paso who he was never quite good enough for, his wife - twice over, and his son. When the tears come, and they always do, he can feel Buck wrap an arm around his neck and press Eddie’s face into his chest. Eddie knows that his tears are wetting the front of Buck’s t-shirt, but this is what they do. Every night, Buck pulls Eddie close and lets him cry, stroking gentle fingers through his hair until the tears taper off and all Eddie can think about is how good Buck smells, how solid his chest feels under Eddie’s weight, how softly his fingers card through Eddie’s hair like he’s something precious. That’s how Eddie falls asleep, this night and the fourteen that preceded it, and he’s not sure that he’ll ever be able to fall asleep without Buck by his side.