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Eddie hates it when he and Buck are separated on a call.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust anyone else on the team; he would trust them with his life, and with Buck’s. And he doesn’t believe in curses, he’s not superstitious - he’s not even a little-stitious. It’s just a fact that when they’re apart, bad things happen. Bad things like tsunamis, and wells collapsing, and fires they almost don’t make it out of.
So, when Bobby pairs Eddie with Ravi and Buck with Thompson, Eddie doesn’t say anything - of course he doesn’t, he’s a soldier; he’s good at taking orders - but he does think it. It being: here we go again. Because he can’t quite put his finger on why, but something about this call has him on edge. He’s got a bad feeling deep in his gut, and when you’re out in the Afghan desert and your gut is the only thing you have to rely on, you tend to learn how to listen to it. But this isn’t a warzone. This is a storage warehouse for a clothing store, and it’s currently going up in flames.
“Ravi, on me.”
“Roger that,” Ravi says.
Eddie catches Buck’s eyes for the briefest of moments - just a single glance saying a thousand things that all begin and end with I love you. Buck gives him a confident, steady smile, and then he nods his head. Eddie nods back, a declaration and a vow: I’m coming back, I promise.
And then he turns his back on Buck, and heads towards the inferno that’s razing the factory to the ground.
Eddie and Buck had burned low and slow for so long that, for a while, Eddie genuinely thought nothing was ever going to come of it. He thought he would spend the rest of his life loving a man that he could touch, but never have. Still living in the closet, even after he’d made his fingernails bleed trying to claw it open. Then there was an angry, desperate, pleading confession - words spilled from Buck’s lips that Eddie will remember always - and the embers were fanned into a flame. It felt like handing his heart over for someone else to take care of.
Buck is something Eddie is keeping close to his chest. Their relationship is new in the sense that they’ve only been together for a few weeks, but it is old in the way that they have loved each other for years. For lifetimes, maybe. Since the beginning of time, right up until the very end of everything. So long that Eddie no longer remembers what it feels like to not love Buck. And that’s why they’re keeping the truth of them quiet. Why nobody but Christopher even knows. Because Eddie feels greedy for Buck - he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, and is somehow never quenched. He wants to be selfish with his boyfriend, for just a little while. Wants to keep this thing to themselves so they get to enjoy it first, before facing all of their friends.
It’s why he feels a little unsettled, turning his back on Buck and walking away. But Thompson is a good, careful guy, and Buck is a better firefighter than anyone Eddie has ever known. He’ll be fine, Eddie knows. He just loves him so much that it kind of makes him crazy.
“We’ll head up to the second floor,” Eddie tells Ravi through their radios. “The stairs are just here.”
“Copy that,” Ravi says. “You think anyone is still in here?”
Eddie sighs. No one had been able to give them a clear answer about how many employees had been inside, and how many made it out safely. They’re searching blind here, which is never ideal. But the 122 is on scene as well, and they’ve split the building into six sections so teams of two can work through clearing it. If there’s anyone left inside, they’ll find them.
“Only one way to find out,” Eddie says, as he reaches for the bannister and begins to climb the stairs.
The fire started on the top floor and is rapidly burning its way down, so they have to move quickly. It’s a familiar thing by now, navigating a building thick with smoke, never quite knowing what’s about to come next. Beams can collapse, and floors can cave in, and your entire life can come to a grinding, screeching halt in a matter of seconds. But there’s a certain thrill to it, too. A certain adrenaline rush that all firefighters know. If there wasn’t, no one would do it. No one would run into dangerous situations while everyone else was running away from them. But, down to the core of them, they all simply want to help.
The building is jam-packed with storage boxes, and shelving units, and racks of clothes. It’s a fire hazard if Eddie has ever seen one; he’s surprised it hasn’t gone up in flames long before this. But Eddie and Ravi make their way through it with practised ease, calling out along the way to see if anyone is still left inside. There isn’t. It makes their job a little easier.
They’ve been in the building maybe ten minutes, when Cap’s voice crackles through the headsets in their helmets.
“Check in,” he calls for.
Eddie is the first to reach for his radio. “All good here, Cap. No signs of any stragglers left behind.”
“We’re making our way to the edge of our zone. Shouldn’t be too long now,” Ravi says.
“Got it. Thanks Diaz, Panikkar.”
It’s Chim and Hen next who respond next, giving Bobby the same exact spiel as Eddie and Ravi did: no one has been spotted in the building, they’re almost done. Everything is all exceptionally routine.
And then Eddie waits for the sound of Buck’s voice. He waits, and he waits, and he waits. And it never comes.
“Buckley? Thompson?” Cap radios again. “Check in.”
Silence.
But it’s fine. It is. Eddie knows how temperamental the radios can be. Sometimes the batteries die too soon, or they glitch for no reason. They’ve been trying to get new ones for a while, but the city isn’t too keen on forking out on more equipment for the 118 when - and he’s quoting here - ‘you’ll just destroy it within a week.’ So Eddie’s not worried. He isn’t.
“Buckley, Thompson. What’s your status?” Bobby asks again.
Silence. Lingering, agonising, infinite silence.
“Buck?” Eddie says.
He can’t hold himself back. Can’t stop the fear from seeping into his voice, either. Because he knows that - if it’s at all possible - Buck will respond to him, even if he won’t to anyone else. But he doesn’t. And the fear creeps up his oesophagus and gets lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, a weight that he can’t seem to breathe around.
But then there’s the familiar crackle of the radio - of staticky comms, and a poor connection. And Eddie waits with bated breath for the sound of Buck’s voice to trickle over him and soothe his rapidly beating heart. It’s coming. He knows it is. Any second now.
But the voice that comes through isn’t Buck’s, and then Thompson is saying -
“Firefighter Buckley is down. I repeat: firefighter Buckley is down.”
-and Eddie feels like his whole world is caving in around him. He can’t move, can’t even breathe. If he could, he would fall to his knees in anguish. He would rage, and scream, and beg. Because Eddie has been here before - he’s been at the bottom of the ladder, watching Buck’s life quite literally hanging in the balance. He’s felt Buck’s throat for his pulse, and instead found it still. He’s felt the crack of Buck’s ribs beneath his hands as he fought to bring him back. He can’t…he can’t do it again.
It takes Ravi’s hand on his shoulder to snap him out of his spiral. A familiar weight, but not the hand he wants touching him. Not the face he longs to see as he turns around.
“Come on,” Ravi says. “We need to finish up and get out.”
“We - we need to help him.”
“We’re too far away,” Ravi explains, firm but still gentle. And there’s a knowing, sympathetic glimmer in his eyes as he says,“Hen and Chim are already on their way to him. We have to move, Eddie.”
He must have missed that part - must have missed the sound of their voices over the radio because the sound of his heart breaking was too loud.
He nods jerkily, sucks in a steadying breath, and readies himself. He has a job to do and he can’t abandon it, and he knows that Hen and Chim will get him. He knows it will be okay. So he blocks out his feelings - turns his emotions off - and continues to move.
He’s almost there - almost at the edge of his clearance zone, and then he can leave. He can stumble out of the building, and find Buck, and he’ll be fine. He will be. There’s no other option that Eddie is willing to entertain. Buck is fine because he has to be. Because Eddie would know if he wasn’t, right? He would feel it. Buck’s heart is beating inside of Eddie’s chest, just like Eddie’s is beating inside of Buck’s. If it stopped - if it stopped, then Eddie would know. And he’s already had Buck’s lifeless heart beneath his hands once before; he’ll never forget the way that felt.
So he tells himself that Buck is okay, and he makes himself do his job. Clinical, and thorough, and well. He can fall apart once he’s made it outside.
The moment they reach the edge of their clearance zone, a frenetic buzzing begins just beneath the surface of his skin. He’s itching to get out - to get back to Buck, to hold him in his arms, to feel the steady flicker of his pulse beneath Eddie’s fingers. He’s barely holding himself together.
“We’re clear,” Eddie tells Ravi through the radio. “Let’s head out.”
“Copy,” Ravi says, and then, to Bobby, “We’re on our way out, Cap.”
“Cap, any update on Buckley?” Eddie asks, his voice wavering as he rushes for the stairs. Then, when he’s only met with silence: “Bobby, please?”
There’s silence that feels like it stretches on for an eternity, and then, “We’re working on him, Eddie.”
It feels like his lungs are being wrapped in barbed wire. Feels like there are icy tendrils of terror slithering down his spine and pooling in his gut. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, can’t feel. All Eddie can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other, until he sets his sights on the hazy glow of daylight pouring through the open door.
Eddie runs out of the building with Ravi hot on his heels. He’s breathless as he pulls his helmet and mask off, and carelessly tosses them to the floor. He squints as he peers through the smoke-blackened air in search of-
Buck.
It’s like being stuck inside a dream, where you’re running and running but you’re still not going anywhere. It feels like he’s moving in slow motion. He can’t make his legs go fast enough - can’t cross the endless distance between them as quickly as he needs to. As quickly as Buck needs him to. Because Buck is down. He’s on the floor, and Hen and Chim are on their knees beside him, and -
Eddie screams.
He doesn’t realise it until his voice breaks, and then the screaming turns to frantic, desperate pleas. The only thing his mouth remembers how to say is Buck’s name; a litany, a prayer. An angry, furious threat. Because Eddie is tired - so, so tired - of almost losing Buck. Of almost having him snatched out from between his fingertips, time and time again. He’s tired of the powers that be trying to take Buck away from him.
They can’t have him; no man, or god, or divine plan is allowed to steal his person away. Eddie won’t let them.
He sees red. He sees blood matted into curly blonde hair, and closed eyes instead of Buck’s bright blue, and Eddie has to swallow down the sob that’s trying to burst out of his chest. He collapses to his knees by Buck’s head, his trembling hands hovering over his boyfriend's body because he doesn’t know where to put them - he doesn’t know where he can touch him without causing him pain.
“What’s happening?” He asks frantically. “Hen! What’s happening?”
“Blow to the head knocked him unconscious. Head laceration is superficial,” she explains, her voice panicked but steady as she helps Chim start to peel away Buck’s turnout coat. “Checking for internal bleeding.”
Eddie wants to throw up.
He wants to scream at them not to touch him. Wants to shove everyone’s hands away so the only thing that Buck can feel is Eddie. So Buck will know he’s there, know he’s scared, and come back to him. But Eddie knows better. Knows his hands are shaking too violently to help Buck, knows his mind is racing too fast to keep a clear head. So he lets Hen and Chim do their job, while he cradles Buck’s head in his blood-stained hands and presses kisses to his forehead that is now damp with Eddie’s tears.
“Come back to me,” Eddie begs. “Please. Please, baby. Open your eyes.”
“No signs of internal bleeding,” Chimney says as he pokes at Buck’s stomach. “Maybe some broken ribs.”
There’s a quiet thrum of relief, just beneath the surface of Eddie’s skin. Broken ribs is nothing, Buck has had them almost too many times to count. It was the other possible injuries that were worrisome - damaged organs, Buck bleeding out into his own stomach, drowning on his own blood, brain injuries. If it’s just broken ribs, they can handle that; Eddie will take such good care of him Buck won’t ever want to let him go.
He just has to open his eyes first - has to show Eddie those pretty baby blues that he loves so desperately, and make some ridiculous comment to prove that he’s okay. Only then will Eddie be able to breathe.
Eddie slides one hand down to the side of Buck’s neck, feeling his steady pulse beneath the pad of his thumb.
“Why isn’t he opening his eyes?” Eddie asks. “Why-“
”Eddie.”
It’s just a hoarse whisper, barely even audible, but Buck’s voice slides over Eddie like honey, filling in the cracks of his fracturing heart. Bringing him back from the edge of breaking. Eddie sucks in a breath, his lungs already screaming in desperation, and a wet, gleeful laugh slips past his lips.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby,” Eddie promises. “Just show me those eyes.”
Buck’s eyelids twitch and flutter for just a second, and then his eyes slowly blink open. It’s like the first glimpse of the sky after being trapped underground - like a calm ocean after a raging storm. Buck squints, the light clearly too bright for his likely-concussed brain, and Eddie raises a hand to try and shield his eyes from the sun. Then Buck turns his gaze to Eddie, and suddenly everything is right again. Suddenly everything is okay.
“There you are,” Eddie whispers.
“M’sorry,” Buck mumbles.
“It’s okay - it’s fine. You’re fine,” Eddie rambles, frenetic because of the adrenaline coursing through his blood.
“Eddie,” Buck whimpers again.
And he can’t help himself. He can’t hold back any longer. Eddie leans down and presses his tear-damp lips to Buck’s - just a short, chaste thing, but enough to settle the fizzing in his bones. Enough to alleviate the pressure still lingering in his chest.
He doesn’t realise what he’s done until everyone falls silent around him, and he feels several pairs of eyes lock onto him. He knows he’s just revealed their relationship to their friends - coworkers, boss - but he finds it pretty hard to care about that when Buck’s lips curl up into a smile and he hums softly. He reaches up a hand and places it gently on the curve of Eddie’s cheek, then his thumb begins to wipe away the tears that still haven’t stopped falling.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “I’m okay. Promise.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Yeah, you are.”
They’re all action after that, loading Buck into the back of the ambulance while Ravi and Thompson join with the 122 to continue fighting the warehouse fire. Cap resumes his role as incident command, and Hen and Eddie clamber into the back of the ambulance with Buck, while Chimney takes the wheel. There was no way in hell Eddie wasn’t going with him - no force on earth that could keep them apart. He would have gone no matter what, but Bobby’s gentle smile and nod made the decision that bit easier.
Hen pulls her light out the second the ambulance starts to move.
“I need to check your eyes, Buck,” she tells him. “Is that okay with you?”
He grumbles, but reluctantly agrees when Eddie takes hold of Buck’s hand between both of his own. It’s clear he’s got a concussion - the light sensitivity hasn’t gone away, and he winces as he follows Hen’s light and all of her instructions.
“Hurts,” Buck whines, squinting against the light she’s shining into his eyes.
“I know,” Eddie says. “I know, but you’re doing so good, baby. She’s almost done.”
Hen glances at him for a fraction of a second - a bewildered, but not unhappy, expression on her face - before she returns her attention back to Buck. She finishes up the exam with a couple of questions, just to test Buck’s lucidity and memory, and when he gets every one of them right the atmosphere around them immediately shifts. There’s an instant release in pressure, and Hen closes her eyes for a second to take a deep, shaky breath.
Eddie offers her the hand that isn’t already tangled with Buck’s, and for a moment she just holds it and squeezes tight.
The ride to the hospital isn’t that long, and it’s considerably less frantic now that Buck is awake and alert, even if he’s a little sluggish. His mouth is slow to form words, he keeps his eyes squeezed shut against the too-bright lights, and he groans about the ache in his ribs and his head, but he doesn’t once let go of Eddie. Not even when Eddie tries to help Hen clean up the laceration on his head.
“No,” he whispers. “Don’t let go.”
So Eddie doesn’t.
They pull up outside Cedars-Sinai ten minutes later. Chimney hops out of the front and throws the ambulance doors wide open, stepping to the side to let Hen and Eddie manoeuvre the stretcher out of the back. He reaches out and squeezes Buck’s shoulder briefly, and Buck’s nose scrunches when he smiles. Eddie wants to kiss him again.
They’re met at the door by two nurses, and Hen immediately begins the transfer.
“Falling debris from a fire knocked him unconscious, but patient is now awake and alert. Superficial laceration to his head and potential broken ribs. Suspected concussion,” she tells them. “Heart rate is 65, BP is 118 over 70.”
“Thanks. We’ve got it from here,” one of the nurses says as they begin to wheel Buck away.
But when Eddie tries to go with them - when he tries to keep hold of Buck’s hand and follow along - one of the nurses stops him.
“We’ve got it,” he insists. “You can wait out here.”
And Eddie doesn’t mean to snap - he really, honestly doesn’t. He has all the respect in the world for medical professionals, especially nurses who are overworked, understaffed, and under-appreciated. But this is Buck. This is his boyfriend, who he’s almost lost too many times before. And the thought of them wheeling Buck away from him…it takes him back to a lightning storm, and three minutes and seventeen seconds, and a pleaded, ”Do more.”
“He’s my partner,” Eddie barks. The words are brittle on his tongue, and he sounds like he’s ready to snap.
“And you can see him after we’ve taken him for a head CT.”
“S’okay sweetheart,” Buck murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”
So Eddie clenches his hands into fists and he lets them go - lets them take away the love of his life, even though Eddie never wants to leave his side again. Even though he wants to crawl inside Buck’s skin - wants to burrow beneath his bones, and curl up next to his beating heart, and never, ever leave.
Chimney’s hand on Eddie’s shoulder pulls him out of his trance, and Eddie lets himself be steered towards the private family room that’s - thankfully - empty.
He collapses into a green plastic chair, rests his elbows on his knees, and buries his face into his hands. He needs a moment to just breathe - a moment for his heart rate to come back down, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins to level out. He needs to get his head back on straight. Because Eddie has never quite lost it like that before. He’s never been unable to properly perform his duties because of his own emotions. And maybe it would have been different if he was alone - if he was the only person who could have helped - but he’s relieved he didn’t have to find that out. He’s grateful that Hen and Chim were as remarkable as they always are.
And it’s silly, probably, because it’s not that serious of an injury. It could have been; it could have been catastrophic. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. It’s just a couple of broken ribs and a nasty concussion - all things Buck will heal from quickly enough. Yet it still felt like the end of the world to Eddie. Still felt like dying even as his heart continued to beat.
He finally takes his head out of his hands. He’s just about to face the music with Hen and Chim when the door swings open, and Bobby and Ravi walk into the room.
“I thought you were staying behind?” Hen asks.
“They called in another station, and Thompson and the 122 are holding down the fort,” he explains. “They let us go.”
Eddie hadn’t even thought to ask if Thompson got hurt when Buck did, and he feels a little guilty about that. The guy is a good person, and a solid firefighter. But he’s clearly alright if he’s stayed behind to help.
“Has anyone called Maddie?” Bobby asks.
Eddie had been so wrapped up in his own fear - and then his own relief - that he’d forgotten to text her. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to send her a message, but Chimney’s voice stops him.
“I texted Maddie but she’s at work. I promised I’d keep her updated.”
“Is there any news?” Ravi asks, glancing between the three of them.
“They just took him for a head CT about five minutes ago,” Chimney replies.
And then suddenly all four pairs of eyes are trained on Eddie. He feels like he’s under a microscope, and like every movement, every facial expression, every twitch is being analysed. He knows they’re all looking for an explanation, and he knows that he owes it to them all, but. But it feels wrong, somehow, doing this without Buck by his side. He knows Buck won’t mind, of course. He’ll understand and respect Eddie’s choice. But he still wishes his boyfriend was here for this - wishes he could hold his hand as they tell their family they’re in love.
He drops his head between his shoulder and sighs, taking a second to just gather his nerve. Then -
“We - we wanted it to be something that was just ours, for a while,” Eddie explains to them. “It has taken us so long to get here, and we wasted so much time being scared. We just…we didn’t want to have to share it with anyone yet.”
“Oh, Eddie,” Hen sighs, with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.
“We’re really happy for you both, kid,” Bobby tells him, and Eddie lets out a breath of relief. Buck had been the most worried about his reaction.
“Hey, congrats man. You both deserve this,” Chimney says.
Eddie clears his throat. He feels overwhelmed with emotion - with support, and acceptance, and love. He’s only come out to a few people. Buck first, and then Christopher. His sisters, too. But that doesn’t make it any easier; it doesn’t make it any less difficult to reveal your beating heart to people, and simply hope that they don’t want to hurt it.
And to know that they don’t just support Eddie and Buck individually, but that they support them as a couple as well? It makes a smile stretch across Eddie’s face.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice crackling with emotion. “Thank you all.”
Ravi holds his hand up with a finger pointing up to the ceiling. “I would just like to point out that I called this on my first day as a probie, and you all shut me down.”
Everyone groans. Chimney swats Ravi with the magazine that he’s holding, and Hen picks up a cardboard drinks coaster from the table and tosses it at him. Ravi holds his hands up in surrender, and they’re all laughing and joking when the door opens again and a doctor walks into the room.
“Edmundo Diaz?”
Eddie stands. “That’s me.”
“You’re Evan Buckley’s next of kin?”
He nods his head. “Yeah, I’m, uh. I’m his boyfriend.”
The doctor smiles and nods back, and then checks his charts for a moment before glancing between all of the anxious faces watching him.
“His CT scan came back clear of any major head trauma, he’s just got a pretty nasty concussion and a couple of broken ribs on the left side. Other than that, he’s perfectly fine.”
Eddie already knew Buck was going to be alright, but it’s nice to have a doctor confirm it for him. Any of the anxiety that had been clinging to his skin simply falls away, and he lets out a ragged breath.
“Can I see him?”
“He’s been asking for you.”
Eddie knows this hospital like the back of his hand. He’s been a patient here more times than he’d like to admit, and he’s visited the people that he loves here almost more times than he can bear. It takes him no time at all to weave his way through the hallways, and arrive outside room 118. He snorts at the irony of that.
When he pushes the door open and steps inside, it’s a relief to see Buck already sitting up. The lights are dimmed, and his eyes are closed, but he’s upright. There’s no oxygen mask or breathing tube, no IV or heart monitor or blood pressure cuff. He’s okay. Really, actually okay. And Eddie’s not sure why, but the backs of his eyes start to prickle like he might cry at the mere sight of his boyfriend all in one piece. Safe.
Buck cracks a single eyelid open, and he smiles so sweetly when he sees Eddie standing here. He quickly reaches a hand out to him, like it’s automatic - like his heart craves the nearness as much as Eddie’s does. So Eddie goes to him, because of course he does. Because there’s no world in which he would ever leave Buck wanting.
“Hi, love,” Buck murmurs.
“Hi, baby.”
Eddie rests his thumb in the cleft of Buck’s chin as he leans down to press a brief, chaste kiss to his lips. Buck hums in contentment, and Eddie can’t help but steal a second and third kiss before he finally pulls back and takes a seat next to the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I got cracked in the head by a wooden beam and broke a couple ribs,” Buck deadpans.
Eddie rolls his eyes fondly, as he takes hold of Buck’s hand between both of his, just like he had done in the ambulance. Like he had done beneath the ambulance that one time, and after he woke from being shot, and after Buck got struck by lightning. Except there’s a hundred other memories of holding Buck’s hand now - a hundred, sweet, soft moments that they’ve shared together.
Eddie no longer needs permission from a tragedy to hold the hand of the man that he loves.
“I think someone up there is jealous I get to do this,” Eddie says, as he brings their joined hands up to his mouth and kisses Buck’s ring finger.
Buck smiles, gently brushing the curve of Eddie’s jaw with his thumb. “I don’t know,” he wonders. “I haven’t died yet.”
Eddie fixes him with a blank stare. “Baby, your heart literally stopped beating.”
Buck rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “That was one time.”
“Three minutes and seventeen seconds,” Eddie says.
A reminder, even though neither of them will ever forget. And this time it’s Buck’s turn to bring their hands to his mouth and kiss the ridges of Eddie’s knuckles, because he knows what the memory of that day does to Eddie. He knows how it lingers in the marrow of his bones, and still wakes him in the middle of the night sometimes - still rips him from sleep, and he can’t settle again until he feels the flutter of Buck’s pulse beneath his lips, and his heart beating against Eddie’s back as he holds him.
“Well whoever it is,” Buck says gently, “they sent me back.”
“Must have gotten tired of all your yapping,” Eddie teases, to try and lighten the moment. To clear away some of the heaviness filling the room.
“Hey!” Buck whines, trying to snatch his hand back. “You love my yapping.”
“I love you,” Eddie promises.
Then he kisses the ring finger on Buck’s left hand. Another promise.
He hasn’t asked him yet. He won’t for a while, probably. But he will. One day he’ll pick out a ring with Maddie and Christopher’s help, and he’ll get down on one knee, and he’ll ask Buck - his best friend, the love of his life - to marry him. And he doesn’t have to worry that Buck might say no, because he knows that isn’t possible. He knows he gets to have this for the rest of his life.
Buck clears his throat, and breaks the silence by asking, “Everyone knows now, don’t they?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I kind of - kind of lost it, when you were hurt.”
Buck isn’t angry or upset, just like Eddie knew he wouldn’t be. He smiles, and his eyelids are barely even open because of the light but Eddie can still see how gently Buck is looking at him. He feels it right down to his soul.
“I don’t mind,” Buck assures him. “I’m glad, I think. Now everyone knows you belong to me.”
Eddie laughs. He thinks about Ravi’s comment in the waiting room. He thinks about an earthquake, a bomb, and 40ft of soaked earth. He thinks about snipers and lightning strikes. He thinks about Christmas markets, and skateboards, and every (in)significant other they’ve ever had.
“I’ve always belonged to you.”