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Buck wakes with a gasp tearing at his throat, heart racing in his chest. Early morning sunlight pours into the loft, along with the steady roar of Friday morning traffic in LA. The room spins around him as he tries to get his bearings, to slow his breathing.
He fumbles for his phone where it sits on his nightstand. 6:13AM. He navigates to his chat with Bobby, typing out a quick message.
Hey Bobby
He takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales for a count of three through pursed lips, like his therapist taught him. He does it again while he waits, heart in his throat. The relief that washes over him when Bobby’s reply comes through has him slumping back against the pillows.
Good morning, Buck.
Buck lets himself stare at the message for a few moments before replying.
Shift almost over?
We just wrapped up a call. We’re on our way back to the station now.
Was it busy?
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Athena and I are having some of the squad over for a barbeque tonight. You should come.
I’ll be there
Eight o’ clock sharp. See you then, Buck.
Want me to bring anything?
Just yourself.
Buck can’t help but smile as he puts his phone down and gets out of bed. He could probably get a few more hours of sleep if he tried, but he doesn’t want to have to text Bobby again while he’s trying to get some rest after a 24 hour shift.
He moves through his morning routine, brushing his teeth and flossing, splashing his face with cold water. His back is a little tight, so he grabs his foam roller and works out his back and hips, goes through his physio exercises until his muscles are loose and relaxed. He heads downstairs to start a pot of coffee and then sits at the table, waiting for it to finish brewing before pouring himself a cup.
The day stretches out before him, no appointments, no obligations, just time. It’s funny, he thinks, how different things are this time around. After his crush injury, he had only just stopped short of gnawing on his own furniture, a total menace to be around. He hadn’t known who he was outside of firefighting. Being laid off work this time around hasn’t exactly been a walk through the park, but he feels more grounded than he ever has, which has to count for something.
The day stretches out before him and he isn’t sure what to do with all this time so he starts by reorganizing his pantry, which takes all of five minutes once he realizes Maddie had already been through it when she was over the other day. He grabs his laptop to halfheartedly look up flights to Italy. He ends up on the Wikipedia page for Italian Wine and falls down a rabbit hole for a little while before sighing and shutting his laptop.
He texts Eddie, asking him if he wants a ride later.
Want a ride to Bobby and Athena’s tonight?
Is Chris still going to be sleeping over at his friend’s place?
That would be great.
Yep Chris is going straight there after school.
I’ll pick you up at 7:30
See you then. Thanks Buck.
It’s 7:27AM and Buck is at a loss for how to fill up the hours until he can leave to pick up Eddie. “Haven’t cleaned my bathroom in a while,” he says to his loft.
Just after 8 AM, while he’s in the middle of scrubbing the grout between the tiles in his shower with an old toothbrush, there’s a gentle knock on his front door. Bobby is there, holding a tupperware in one hand.
“Thought I’d bring you some leftovers from last night.”
“Thanks, Bobby. I made coffee, want to come in?”
“I’d like that.”
Buck grabs an extra mug out of the cupboard and fills it with coffee, sliding it across the counter to Bobby. Bobby just watches him as he tops up his own mug.
“So. I heard you got a clean bill of health the other day.” Bobby smiles at him. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Cap. I guess Eddie told you?”
Bobby nods. “Should I get the paperwork ready to reinstate you?”
Buck hesitates. A part of him longs to be back with his team, misses the rush of the job, the long hours, the hard work. But there’s another part of him, that’s been a little louder lately.
“A few weeks ago, I thought I’d be practically breaking down the station door as soon as I was cleared to go back to work,” Buck says slowly. “But I – Bobby, I don’t know what to do.”
Bobby sits patiently, letting Buck gather his thoughts. Buck loves him so much for that. Over the years, Buck has tested Bobby’s patience over and over again – Buck knows sometimes he’d push just to see how much Bobby would bend before giving up on Buck for good. But Bobby has always forgiven him. Buck would drive him up the walls, but his love never wavered.
“I think I’m scared. Every time I think about getting back out there, I just…” he trails off, one hand absentmindedly rubbing at his chest.
“Buck, you experienced something incredibly traumatic while on the job. I’d be surprised if you weren’t nervous about coming back to work.” Bobby says, kindness and understanding in his eyes.
“Being a firefighter is everything to me, though,” Buck says, but his heart isn’t in it. “Or, well…”
“Listen, Buck. I’m not going to rush you into a decision. Take as much time as you need. If you decide you want to come back to the 118 in a week or a month or, hell, even a year – there will always be a place for you there. And if you decide that you want to step back and pursue something else, everyone will still love and support you just the same. Because at the end of the day, firefighter or not, you’re always going to be Buck.”
Buck feels tears welling up in his eyes. “Thanks, Bobby.” His voice cracks around the words but he doesn’t care.
“Anytime you need to hear that, you just let me know.” Bobby says as he gets to his feet.
“I will.” Buck walks him to the door and hugs him, the love he has for his captain practically pouring out of him as Bobby squeezes him back.
“I’ll see you tonight, Buck.”
“See you later, Bobby.”
The loft, quiet again without Bobby, feels cold. Buck looks around, itching for something to do and settles on cleaning… well, everything.
The hours crawl by but eventually Buck reasons it’s a reasonable time to get ready to go. He showers and changes into jeans and a button up shirt.
Buck pulls up to the Diaz house and takes the porch steps two at a time. He knocks softly and Eddie answers; his eyes are a little puffy, the way they get when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep after a long shift, but he still smiles when he sees Buck.
“Hey,” Eddie says, “Let me just put my shoes on.”
Buck hovers in the doorway as Eddie slips into his shoes and then they walk to the Jeep side by side.
“Hey, this isn’t a surprise ‘congrats on being cleared for duty again’ party, is it? Because the last time everyone threw me one of those…” Buck keeps his tone light, but there’s a thrum of nerves in his chest. Buck doesn’t actually remember the night he had a pulmonary embolism in Bobby and Athena’s backyard, but from what he pieced together afterwards, it had been a terrifying night for everyone involved.
“Don’t even joke about that, Buck.” Eddie says, maybe a little more sharply than he intends to.
They pull up to the Grant-Nash house to the sound of music and lively conversation coming from the backyard, so they walk around the house to the back gate and let themselves in. They make their rounds, hugging everyone, with more than one person congratulating him on his clean bill of health and asking about his recovery.
“Did you tell everyone ?” Buck mutters to Eddie.
“Not everyone,” Eddie beams at him, “Maddie told a bunch of people, too.”
Buck sighs dramatically just as Athena walks up to him.
“Buckaroo, it’s good to see you out of that hospital bed,” she holds her arms open for a hug and he steps into them. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling good, Athena,” Buck looks around the backyard at his friends, his family. “Thanks for doing all this.”
She waves one hand, “Oh, we thought it would be nice to get everyone together. It’s been a while.”
“I’m gonna grab a beer, want one?” Eddie asks Buck.
He thinks about it for a moment before saying, “Actually, can you grab me a bottle of sparkling water?”
“Sure thing.”
Eddie returns with drinks just as Maddie, Chim, and Jee show up. Buck skips over to say hi, scooping his niece up into his arms. “How’s my favorite girl?” he coos, tickling her a little until she giggles. She gives Eddie a shy little wave that has Buck beaming.
Buck is positively buzzing with happiness, surrounded by all these people he loves and who love him. They fuss over him a little, and he lets them. That feeling of claustrophobia he felt after days of people dropping by the loft nags at him a little, but he pushes it aside. It’s nice to be cared for, fills his heart right up.
Eventually, though, he does get tired and suddenly Eddie’s at his side, asking if it would be alright if they head home. So they say their goodbyes and climb into the Jeep.
Buck parks on the street outside of the house, and they sit in silence for a moment.
“Want to come in for a bit? The house always feels too quiet without Chris.” Eddie asks. And how could Buck say no? He knows well enough how suffocating an empty apartment can feel after a day of being surrounded by loved ones.
“Maybe I’ll have that beer, now.” Buck jokes. Eddie shakes his head fondly, smiling.
They let themselves into the house, and Eddie grabs two beers out of the fridge, popping the lids off of them before handing one to Buck. He motions to the front door. “Let’s sit outside for a bit. It’s a nice night.”
So they sit out on the porch, warm dark night blanketing them. It feels safe. Comfortable. Every cell in Buck’s body is heavy and tired in the nicest way.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do now that you’re cleared to work again?” Eddie asks.
“I think I’ve been thinking about it a little too much, Eddie.” Buck says.
Eddie chuckles a little. “That sure sounds like you.”
“I used to think that… being a firefighter was the only thing that mattered . That made me matter. Like, who am I if I’m not out there helping people, you know?” Buck says this quietly, not quite looking at Eddie. The darkness makes it easier to say things out loud, he thinks, but Eddie can read him like an open book and he isn’t sure he’s ready to face that perceptive gaze of his yet.
“You’re one hell of a firefighter, Buck. But you’re so much more than that.”
“It doesn’t always feel that way.”
He turns his head a little to meet Eddie’s eye. When Eddie looks at him, he really truly looks . Like he can see past every mask Buck has ever worn.
“That doesn’t make it any less true. You’re an amazing brother and uncle and friend. You mean the world to Chris. You make a mean lasagna.”
Buck laughs at that. “Thanks to Bobby.”
“You’re Buck. And even if that doesn’t feel like enough to you some days, I promise it is.”
Buck wants to cry. He wants to run around the block. He wants to burst from all of the feelings building up in his chest. He wants to crawl into Eddie’s arms, he wants to laugh, he wants…
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Buck.” Eddie whispers into the night, something haunted behind the words.
Buck doesn’t know how to say what he’s feeling. Doesn’t know how to admit that Eddie’s house feels more like home to him than anywhere else he’s ever been. Isn’t sure he could find the words to say that he only ever wants to come home to Eddie and Chris, to cook them breakfast and dinner everyday, to drive them anywhere they want to go. Wishes he could talk about how being around Chris and Eddie makes him feel whole in a way he’s never really experienced before.
“Can I crash on your couch tonight?” he asks.
“‘Course.”
Buck opens his eyes the next morning and feels like he can breathe easy for the first time in a while. He inhales the smell of the laundry detergent Eddie uses, listens to the sound of Eddie puttering around in the kitchen, smells freshly brewed coffee. Eddie’s couch isn’t great for his back, but he feels so relaxed that he doesn’t really care.
He stops in the bathroom on his way to the kitchen. His toothbrush is in its usual spot, next to a tube of his favorite toothpaste. He can’t remember how or when it came about, him having a toothbrush at the house; it had happened so naturally he hadn’t even thought about it. There’s a face wash he likes under the sink. He knows where the extra towels and washcloths are.
He texts Bobby, thanking him for dinner, but doesn’t feel the usual rush of anxiety while he waits for an answer. Bobby answers quickly enough, though, this little texting habit comforting for the both of them, Buck thinks.
Eddie’s standing at the sink washing dishes in sweats and a t-shirt, hair sticking up in a few different places, soft and messy. Buck just watches him for a few moments.
“There’s coffee. Or are you planning on standing there all morning?” Eddie looks over his shoulder to smirk at Buck.
Buck feels his cheeks warm a little and shuffles into the kitchen. “Thanks.”
“I’m picking Chris up in an hour. Not sure if you had plans, but I know he’d love to see you.”
Buck almost makes a joke about how his schedule has been jam packed lately, but the way Eddie looks at him, earnest and hopeful, has him biting his own tongue. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
“It would work out for me, too. Because I really don’t feel like cooking dinner later.”
Buck puts one hand over his heart, makes a big show of being insulted, “Edmundo Diaz. Are you using me for my cooking?”
Eddie just shrugs. “So what if I am?”
“I’m devastated,” he says, “Should I make Bobby’s chili? I have a cornbread recipe from Carla that’s really good, too.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Good.” Buck smiles at him. “I’ll swing by the loft to grab a change of clothes in a bit. And I can pick up some ingredients on my way back over here?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They finish their coffees and Buck heads out. He rushes himself a little once he’s at his apartment, eager to get back and see Chris, ask him about his science project, rope him into helping with dinner. Wants to make silly faces and bad jokes to make the laugh.
He rushes himself because he wants to get home.