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It’s the fourth day in a row that Eddie has passed on a morning coffee from the coffee shop down the road. Usually, Buck wouldn’t think twice about it. But Eddie also skipped the take out order they placed last night, and shot down an offer from B shift to go out to the pub to celebrate a birthday. Every day this week, Eddie has brought an apple for lunch and that’s it.
Buck watches as Eddie shovels a large slice of Cap’s lasagna onto his plate. Eddie eats without hesitation and Buck is even more confused. He’d considered a bad stomach, straying away from dairy, a new diet, everything. He even considered an eating disorder, but Eddie doesn’t avoid family dinners, nor does he disappear to the bathroom after. He still worries.
It’s odd. But it’s not odd enough to mention to anyone else. So, he keeps quiet.
Eddie’s stomach growls as they pull up to a medical call at a restaurant. Hen makes a joke about stopping for lunch, and Eddie’s laugh is too perfectly timed.
When they get back to the firehouse, everyone makes their own lunches. Buck watches as Eddie sits on the couch away from them all, sipping water from his bottle and scrolling on his phone. Buck’s stomach turns as he looks down at his sandwich. What’s wrong with Eddie?
They go to the zoo on Saturday and Eddie is so lost in his own world that he walks right past the antelopes. Chris hits his dad’s shin with his crutch, and Eddie turns around.
“Dad! The mountain bongos!” Chris calls, as he points to the horned creature staring at them through the foliage. Eddie watches it for a moment, before giving Chris a small smile.
“Thanks, bud,” he says, ruffling Chris’ hair. “There’s a lot out today, huh?”
Eddie and Chris watch the antelopes graze for a moment, as Buck studies Eddie. Eddie never forgets to stop at the mountain bongos, not in the last six months that they’ve been going almost weekly.
Later, Eddie buys ice cream for Buck and Chris as an apology, and when Buck asks where the third one is, Eddie says he isn’t hungry.
Riding back from a call, Eddie breathes in the air from the cracked window like a dying man.
“Eddie? You alright?” Buck asks, as Eddie closes his eyes.
Hen hums. “Yeah, you look like you’re about to puke.” Eddie groans in response and shrugs slightly. They hit a pothole and Eddie’s hand hovers near his mouth. “Shit, ok, yeah, you are gonna puke.”
“Pull over!” Buck calls to the front, and quickly looks around them for a container.
Eddie shakes his head, “‘m fine.”
Hen snorts and procures an emesis bag. Eddie takes it begrudgingly but continues to breathe in deep.
They make it to the station, but Eddie doesn’t make it out of the truck before he’s coughing up nothing but water and bile. Hen coos and Chim takes vitals and Cap gives him the rest of the day off and Buck wonders why no one else can see that something is wrong.
Chim whistles when Eddie takes his shirt off in the changing rooms later. “You cutting, Eddie?”
Blood drains from Buck’s face to his feet as he pictures turning around to see Eddie’s body littered with bloody red lines. Yet, when he turns, he’s faced with Eddie’s lean torso. The dread does not leave his body when he realises they’re talking about diet.
Eddie shrugs and pulls on a clean shirt, blush high on his cheeks. “Nah, not really. Just watching what I eat and working out.”
Chim huffs, and pats him on his back. “I do that and yet…” he says, with mock disappointment.
Slamming his locker, Eddie throws his duffle over his shoulder and walks over to Buck. “You ready to go?”
Buck nods and smiles stupidly. Maybe he’s overthinking it. Maybe it’s fine.
It’s not fine.
Eddie walks behind the truck as a young boy is rolled into the ambulance. He’d fallen from a building onto a car roof. A spinal injury was suspected, and the mother had so far been unreachable. It wasn’t a nice call for anyone, but the boy was Chris’ age and Eddie had done a lot of the heavy lifting, both emotionally and physically.
After checking he isn’t needed, Buck steps back behind the truck in an attempt to find Eddie. Instead of the usual pacing or frantic texting, Buck is faced with Eddie leaning with his forehead pressed against the side of the truck, breathing slowly.
Buck steps forward, assuming a panic attack. “You ok, man?”
Eddie makes no move to reply. Buck steps forward again, until he’s close enough to see the tremors dancing up his hands and the sweat rolling down his head.
“Eddie?”
Eddie’s knees buckle and Buck rushes to grab him before he can fall to the tarmac. “Ok, ok, you’re ok,” he mutters. Eddie groans in response, and sends a hand out to the truck. Eddie tries to take his own weight, but doesn’t fight when Buck lowers them both to the ground.
Knees up and head tucked between, Buck coaches Eddie through breathing, despite Eddie’s half-assed complaints about not needing it. After a while, Eddie raises his head and looks at Buck with clearer eyes, embarrassment written across every feature. “Sorry about that. Just, uh… got a bit dizzy.”
“Yeah? You been drinking enough water?” Buck asks, because it’s easier than thinking about anything else. He’s not seen Eddie eat anything in two days.
Eddie nods, “Yeah. Yeah, now that you say it, that makes sense.” It doesn’t, because Buck knows Eddie’s refilled his large water bottle twice today and it’s only noon.
“I’ll get you some water then, ok?” Buck says, pushing himself up from the ground. Eddie nods, lowering his head back between his knees. It freaks Buck out more than he cares to admit.
He brings back a 500ml bottle and watches as Eddie takes slow sips. They both pretend it’s the heat and don’t mention it later on.
Pieces fall into place the next morning, after Buck stays the night to ensure Eddie was really ok. He’s slowly trudging around Eddie’s kitchen when he notices that the cupboards are emptier than usual. The cereal cupboard has Cosco brand Coco Pops for Chris and Fruit & Fiber for Buck; the snack cabinet has a few biscuits that Chris likes, and a sleeve of chocolate bars Buck and Chris fight over; the fridge has a small carton of milk, a few basic vegetables, and a few bottles of water; the freezer has a few plastic tubs filled with soup, stew and whatever else Eddie has managed to either cook or keep from Abuela’s and Cap’s cooking.
There’s food for him and Chris, but Eddie? He finds that the cupboard usually filled with Eddie’s favourite snacks has been emptied and replaced with cream crackers, instant ramen, and tins of soup. It’s like Eddie doesn’t live here anymore.
Buck’s clattering must’ve woken Eddie, because he hears footsteps from behind. He turns just as Eddie opens the door to the kitchen. “Mornin’,” Eddie says, voice raspy from sleep.
“Morning,” Buck says, as he pulls out his cereal slowly.
Eddie leans against the counter beside Buck and pulls out a glass, filling it with water from the tap. Buck cringes as Eddie takes a sip.
“You wanna go to the shops later?” Buck asks, hoping for the easy explanation.
Eddie furrows his brows before shaking his head. He sits at the table as he says, “I went yesterday. Do you need stuff?”
Buck shakes his head. “No, no, I’m–I’m good. It’s just… You have no corn flakes.” Buck stares into his cereal bowl as he pours the milk. He doesn’t want to see Eddie struggle for an answer; he can feel the tension growing as seconds pass without an answer.
“I thought you didn’t like corn flakes?” Eddie asks.
“I don’t, but you do.” He feels like his hand is encircling a china teapot, and every word he says puts more pressure on its delicate structure.
Eddie doesn’t say anything. Buck puts the milk back. He turns and sits at the table, before glancing up at Eddie. The man stares back, calculating.
“Why do you ask?”
Buck swallows hard. He pushes his cereal away and shuffles in his seat. “I’m worried about you, Eddie.”
Eddie cracks his knuckles under the table. “What? Why?” It’s too fast and too panicked and Buck knows this is not the time but when will the time be perfect?
“You’re not eating enough, man. You’ve–You’ve lost weight, you don’t have a lot of food here for yourself, and–and you almost passed out yesterday, for god’s sake! You drink water all the time and I was worried you had an eating disorder, but I don’t know! I’m just– I’m worried, man. Talk to me.”
Eddie sighs and presses his palms to his eyes. “God. You really want to talk about this? It’s fine, Buck.”
“I disagree. What’s going on?”
Eddie leans his elbows on the table and rests his forehead against his hands, staring down at the table. Buck picks his nails under the table as Eddie thinks.
“I, uh. You know Frank, yeah?”
Buck blinks at the non-sequitur. “Yeah?”
“He, uh… he got me on some… meds, right? Antidepressants, or whatever. And I started taking them three or four months ago? But they’re, uh. They’re really expensive? And my insurance doesn’t cover them, but I can’t change insurance because Chris is on it and it covers him really well. If he needed surgery or anything, it would– it would be good for that but– it doesn’t cover my bullshit fucking–” He takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back. He looks up at Buck and shakes his head. “It’s nothing. It’s fine, really. This is the last month it’ll be a problem. It’ll be ok after this.”
Dread fills Buck’s stomach. “You’re–you’re not thinking of…” He can’t even finish the sentence. He’s scared of the answer.
Luckily, Eddie’s eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically, palms up to calm him. “No, no, God, no. Nothing like that. I just mean I’m gonna stop taking them. I just can’t afford it.”
“I can lend you some money if you want? And what about extra shifts? I’m sure Bobby would put you on more if you asked?” Buck doesn’t like the idea of Eddie stopping his meds, even if Buck didn’t know he was on any until now.
Eddie shakes his head. “I already asked Bobby for extra shifts. I’ve been working overtime since June, but it’s not done much. And I’m not gonna take your money, Buck, don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous! You house me and feed me. You buy my food and nothing for yourself!”
Eddie shrugs and looks off, almost embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m not gonna let you starve.”
“But you’ll let yourself starve?”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that.”
“It kind of is, Eds.”
Eddie puts his head in his hands again. “Look, Buck. It’s fine. It’ll be fine next month. I’ll be ok. Can we stop talking about this now?”
Buck shuffles uncomfortably. “Ok… I guess…”
It’s awkward for a moment.
“Can you at least let me buy you some groceries? I want to make omlettes.”
Eddie smiles a little. “We can go fifty fifty.”
Buck smiles back. “Fuck yeah. Ok, let’s make a list.”
It’s the first of October and Eddie walks into his kitchen after his third overtime shift. He dumps his bag at the counter, grabs a glass and fills it with water. Turning to lean on the counter, he notices an orange pill bottle on his table.
EDDIE DIAZ - SERTRALINE - 100MG ONCE A DAY ORALLY
Tears well in his eyes. He’s going to pay Buck back. As soon as he gets the money from work, he’s going to pay Buck back every cent. But for now, Eddie lets a few tears fall at the thoughtfulness. He finishes his glass of water, pulls out a bowl, and pours himself a bowl of corn flakes.
Maybe. Maybe he can be ok.