Chapter Text
When Adriana Diaz was six years old her big brother was her favorite person in the world. Thirteen year old Edmundo Diaz was essentially a superhero in her eyes. Even though he said bad words sometimes and forced her to brush her teeth before bed, he was still her favorite person in the world for good reason.
He could ride really fast on his bike, but would slow down if they were riding somewhere together so she could keep up, and he always held her hand when he walked her to school even though the other big brothers were too embarrassed to. And when their neighbor, Nick Albertson, made fun of Adriana’s speech impediment, Eddie punched him in the stomach twice even though Nick was a whole year older (and a foot taller) than Eddie. He could do no wrong in his youngest sister’s eyes, even if he started acting weird as he grew older. He didn’t want to go to church anymore, and stopped being excited when their dad got home from business trips. It didn’t make sense to Adriana then, but she loved him anyway. Because no matter how much he changed, he always took care of her and Sophia. And their mom too, even if she refused to see it.
Helena always said that Eddie was just going through a phase. “Teenagers drift, but they always come back. He’ll come back.”
She never sounded sure though. It always sounded a bit more like a prayer than anything else. Like Eddie wasn’t allowed to become a person that Helena didn’t approve of. It confused Adriana, because no matter who her big brother became, she knew he’d always be her hero. Even when he went off to fight in a war that she knew he didn’t believe in. Even when he left her again to move to California, taking her nephew with him. Even then, Eddie is still her hero.
But Adriana Diaz isn’t six anymore. And Eddie isn’t thirteen. But he’s still Eddie. He’s still the person who helped her with her homework before even touching his own, and learned how to French braid her hair for Picture Day, and forged their parent’s signature on her detention slips so she wouldn’t get grounded. No matter what happens, she knows who her brother is. And she knows that no matter how far away he moves, or how little he calls, he’d never go somewhere that she couldn’t reach him. Right?
It’s the last week of May when Adriana finds her thirteen year old nephew at the kitchen table of her parents house on a random Thursday morning. She knows something is up right away. He won’t tell her why he’s in El Paso without Eddie, and neither will her parents. When she calls Eddie, he doesn’t answer. She leaves him a message and he texts her twenty minutes later.
[edmundo 😤]: I'm okay, Chris just misses Texas. I'm at work but we can talk soon
This was the first red flag.
Over the first week of Chris’s stay in El Paso, other red flags arise. Any mention of Eddie or Los Angeles results in Chris shutting down and Helena and Ramon getting all stiff and weird. At one point, firefighters show up in the movie that Chris has on in the living room and he just shuts the tv off and disappears into his room.
Which is another red flag. He isn’t staying in Eddie’s old room like he has during past visits. Instead he’s staying in Adriana and Sophia’s old room. The walls are still a messy purple from the summer that Eddie, Sophia, and Adriana re-painted the room while their dad was away and mom was at lunch with her church friends. And one night when Adriana is over for dinner, she goes to let Chris know the food’s ready and she notices the picture of Eddie, Sophia, and Adriana that usually sits on the bedside table is missing. She finds it in the hall closet with the vacuum and abandoned board games later that night.
Adriana Diaz isn’t six anymore, and Eddie isn’t thirteen. He isn’t here to hold her hand when she crosses the street, or make sure her helmet is buckled before she gets on her bike. He isn’t here to tell her what to do. But Christopher Diaz is thirteen years old, and he’s here and he’s clearly going through something. So Adriana does what she always does when she has hard work ahead of her: Whatever the fuck Eddie would do.
Adriana and Chris are in the car on the way to the movies when the truth finally comes out. There’s some action, sci-fi movie coming out that Chris had been excited to see with Eddie and Buck, and Adriana could tell he wasn’t exactly hoping to watch it with one of his grandparents. So she offers to take him. She’s the closest in age to him, so maybe she can be a good enough stand-in for her brother.
“So has your dad seen the movie yet?” Adriana asks casually, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of them.
“Dunno,” Chris mumbles. He’s glued to his phone like he always is and Adriana has never felt more like a miserable old hag. Sure, she spends way too much time on her phone too, but god, she just wants her nephew to talk to her.
Because something is up.
And sure, Adriana and Chris aren’t nearly as close as they used to be when he was a little kid and lived here, but she can tell something is bothering him. He’s still Christopher. And she’s still Tía Addie (even if he stopped calling her that years ago).
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he waited for you to come home to see it. He’s so chronically offline he’d definitely avoid spoilers.”
“Uh huh.”
“Is Buck as weird about social media as your dad?”
Adriana’s heard a lot about Buck over the years. First, from seven year old Christopher who couldn’t wait to tell her about his new friend Buck. His first friend in Los Angeles. And from the sound of it, Eddie’s too. Then, she got to know Buck through Eddie’s eyes. How he introduced them to Carla and came over for breakfast after work sometimes. She was glad her brother had a friend, he never seemed to have many of those in El Paso. Then, of course, Adriana started hearing about Buck from her parents. How Chris talks about him too much, and Eddie doesn't talk about him enough. How he stuck his nose where it didn’t belong during their most recent visit, “in family business,” her dad had said. And Adriana feels like a kid again because how could her parents not see that Buck is family to Eddie and Chris?
“No.”
She already knew Buck didn’t have the same hesitance about social media as Eddie. She’s stalked Buck’s very public Instagram account countless times in the past few weeks to try and get answers about what’s going on with Eddie. No posts about anything other than his adorable niece, some pretty hiking spots, and a dog whose name is also Buck that he met while on a call. Eddie’s account is radio silent, which isn’t out of the ordinary. But apparently he’s been too busy to talk much in the past week. Not being able to catch Eddie on the phone is never a good sign. She knows this from years of Eddie being far away and her feeling like the only person in her family who truly misses him.
Adriana nods aimlessly, glancing at the grumpy thirteen year old in her passenger seat. God, is this what Eddie was really like at thirteen? Is this why she was the only Diaz who seemed to think Eddie was still perfect when he was a moody teen?
Then again, Christopher could tell Adriana to fuck off and she’d still call him perfect. Because he just is.
“Ah, so he’ll probably wanna see the movie before any spoilers catch up with him,” Adriana drones on, feeling so insanely uncool. She pulls into the parking lot of the tiny movie theater and parks in one of the open spots. “Hopefully they see it together. I’m sure he’s keeping your dad company while you’re here.”
“I don’t care.” The bite in his tone is all too familiar. Yeah, he definitely has a lot in common with thirteen year old Eddie.
“What the hell happened, Chris? I know something’s up. I know you. And I know your dad and he-”
“Do you?” Chris interrupts her. “Because I thought I knew him, but I don’t.”
“Of course you-” Adriana takes a breath, trying not to overdo it. “Chris, Abuelo and Grandma won’t tell Tía Sophia and I anything. And your dad won’t answer my calls. I don’t know what happened in LA with him but I’m starting to really worry about both of you guys. Do I have to resort to calling that Buck guy to get answers?”
Christopher heaves out a sigh, finally looking up from his phone to look his aunt in the eye. His brow is furrowed deeply and suddenly her big brother is thirteen again, sitting across from her and making her promise that she won’t tell Sophia or their parents that she saw him sneaking out one night way after their bedtime.
“He cheated on his girlfriend with…” Christopher trails off, turning away from her to stare out his window.
And a small voice in the back of Adriana’s head whispers a name. Buck. Because she wasn’t lying to Chris, she knows her brother. Before Shannon was his best friend, girlfriend, or wife. Before Chris was born and became Eddie’s entire world. Before Eddie had ever met Buck, or any of his meaningless girlfriends in LA. Adriana knew Eddie best.
But the voice is wrong. Very, very wrong.
“He cheated on his girlfriend with some lady who looks like my mom.”
“What?” Adriana spits out before she can stop herself. Her brain tries to process what it’s being told, but nothing is clicking.
“Is that the guy you know?” Christopher asks sharply and Adriana can’t lie to him.
“No. It’s not.”
[Adriana]: chris told me what happened.
[Adriana]: does this mean you can answer my calls now? please.
Later that night, Adriana’s phone rings and all of her questions are answered as her hero cries on the other end of the line.
Take a walk, think it over
While strolling 'neath the moon
Don't say things in December
You'll regret in June
JUNE
Buck’s phone rings and he can’t help but think it’s the universe’s way of reaching out to him for the first time in a while. He doesn’t exactly miss the universe sending him signs because they tend to come in horrible, life-altering catastrophes. But this time, it feels more like a strong hand pulling him out of the rubble after a close call. Or maybe a strong hand holding his through a close call.
Buck is on a miserable date with Tommy when he gets his first phone call from Christopher since he's left. Christopher’s name and contact photo is all he needs to see to decide that the date is over.
“Hey, I actually really have to get this,” Buck starts pushing his chair out.
Tommy sits across the table with his typical bored expression that Buck swears is reserved just for him. “What?”
“I’m sorry, it’s- it’s Christopher. I haven’t heard from him since he went to Texas and-”
“Eddie’s kid?”
Buck tries not to let his annoyance show, but his eyebrows pull together as he gives Tommy a hard look. Eddie’s kid. Obviously, yeah, Chris is Eddie’s kid. But Tommy has met Christopher. Sat with him and talked about Star Wars and helicopters and video games. He knows Chris and anyone who knows Chris knows that he’s a lot more than just someone’s kid.
“Yeah,” Buck scowls as he escapes the table, and then the restaurant. He stands out front and answers the call quickly before it can go to voicemail.
“Chris, hey!” He doesn’t bother hiding his excitement. Christopher deserves to know how much he’s missed. And since he isn’t exactly answering calls or texts from Eddie and Buck, Buck has to take advantage of any time with Chris he has.
“Hey Buck.”
He sounds good. Older. But that’s probably just because this is the longest Buck’s ever gone without talking to Chris since they’ve met (three weeks and two days. Because yes he is keeping count, even if he’s been telling Eddie he isn’t) and he misses him so much that all he can think about is that sweet little kid who saved him from himself after the truck bombing, and every single day since then.
“What’s up? How are you? How’s Texas?”
“It’s cool,” Chris mumbles. “I mean, it’s hot, but it’s cool here.” Something sounds off in his voice, it pulls on an already tight string in Buck’s chest. It’s wrapped around his heart, a tangled mess that Buck can’t seem to unravel. Squeezing harder and harder as time goes on.
He keeps his voice as steady as he can. “Yeah, I wasn’t kidding about those Texas summers.” He laughs hollowly.
“Yeah.” There’s some shuffling in the background. And then Buck swears he can hear voices yelling somewhere in the distance.
Buck lowers his voice protectively, “Hey, is everything okay?”
“You don’t talk to your parents anymore, right?” Chris rushes the question out, like he’s been holding it in this whole time. Maybe even this whole summer.
Buck is stunned. His mouth falls open and hangs there for a long time. The string in his chest tightens.
“Like, they visit and stuff, but you always say it’s only ‘cause of Jee. And you only see them to keep Maddie company, right? They don’t really call you or anything…” Chris rambles. It’s not like him. Sure, he loves to talk, but about things he actually likes, like video games, or movies with too many explosions in them. When it comes to serious things like this, he tends to be thoughtful. Pondering over every word before he says it, because he knows it’s serious. Right now he sounds so much like Eddie, it would usually do something funny to Buck’s heart (maybe loosen the iron grip of that damned string). But the version of Eddie that Christopher sounds like right now is the Eddie that’s been hiding in the shadows all month since Chris left. And maybe even before then, when Buck was too busy to notice.
“Um, yeah. I guess. We don’t really talk much.” Buck doesn’t sound like himself either, he just prays that Chris can’t hear it through the phone. He forces himself to ask, “Why?” even though he’s terrified of the answer.
“Is it easier to love each other because you don’t talk?”
The imaginary string tightens so much, Buck thinks it’s going to split his heart in two. He does not like where this is going. He knows he should be grateful that Christopher called him at all, but he was not ready for this conversation. Talking about his parents with anyone is hard enough. And sure, he’s made jokes to Eddie about them in front of Christopher, he just didn’t think he was paying attention. And he didn’t think it would ever matter. Why would Christopher Diaz ever need advice about how to successfully cut off your parents?
Buck looks around the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, desperate for somewhere to sit. But it’s Los Angeles, so of course, he’s stuck standing and hoping that his legs don’t give out.
“I– I don’t know, Chris. It’s still…” Not easy. No amount of icing his parents out makes it hurt any less that they seem more than happy not hearing from him. It’s just another thing they get to lecture him about when he does see them. “Parents are… They’re not all the same.”
“Well, duh.” Christopher snarks.
Buck barks out a laugh, the string around his heart loosening just a little bit. “God, I miss you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I miss you too. But what did you mean? About parents not all being the same?”
Buck cracks his neck nervously, trying to navigate this minefield safely. Both for Christopher and Eddie. He had failed back in May when Eddie asked for his help to get through to Christopher. Eddie had faith in him… Do what you always do. Talk to him… And Buck had failed. Christopher left anyway. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try again.
But I love him enough to never stop trying. And I know you do too.
“Well, some parents… If you go to them and tell them that they did something that upset you, they get defensive.” He lets out a deep sigh. “And angry. They list all the reasons that you’re wrong and shouldn’t feel that way. And then… the other kind of parent… Who when you go to them, and tell them that they upset you, they apologize. And they work really hard to meet you halfway. They put in the work and do everything in their power to never hurt you again.” Buck is gripping his phone so hard, he’s scared he might smash it to pieces. “They care more about your happiness than their own pride.”
“Hm,” Christopher hums on the other side of the phone. Buck’s heart is beating so fast against the mess of string tightening around it, he pulls at the collar of his dress shirt. His hands are shaking. When Christopher speaks again, his voice is so quiet, Buck almost misses what he asks. “And you have the first kind of parents?”
He sounds so small that Buck can practically see that toothy grin he hadn’t quite grown into yet when they first met. He can feel the way Christopher’s tiny arms used to wrap around his neck when they hugged. He can smell the Green Apple shampoo Chris used to use.
“Yeah, I do.” Buck whispers, the unwelcome shame that still comes with admitting this washing over him. He may be strong enough to admit it, but he isn’t strong enough to feel good about it just yet.
“And so does my dad.” Christopher says with certainty, sounding much more like himself. Older and more mature. With his tight lipped smiles, and long gangly arms that simply pat Buck’s shoulder now when they half-hug, and his too-strongly scented body spray that overpowers whatever shampoo he uses now.
“I… I can’t say for sure. Your dad doesn’t really talk about them too much. And of course it’s not all black and white. Plenty of parents fall in the middle,” Buck admits. Another wave of shame crashes over him. All of the ranting and raving he’s done to Eddie over the years about his parents that Eddie always listened to and assured Buck that he wasn’t a horrible person for feeling a certain way about the way he was raised. Throughout the years, he’s only ever gotten clues about Eddie’s parents. Little comments here and there, small peaks past the curtain when Eddie’s face would betray him and fall ever so slightly. He would joke about his parents the same way other people do, but Buck notices the way his eyes drift off after. Like his own words are sinking in and twisting a knife in Eddie’s gut that he won’t let Buck know is there.
“Right,” Chris mumbles. He sighs loudly. “But he knows that you don’t talk to your parents anymore, right?”
“Uh… Yeah.” Buck admits hesitantly, unsure of where the hell this is going. “He knows.”
Maybe you could’ve come at it a little differently… But if that’s how you feel, how they made you feel, you have every right to say so.
Yeah, I don’t need anymore therapy.
Buck snaps out of his own head when Christopher practically shouts through the phone, “Then why the FUCK does he still talk to my grandparents?!”
Whoa. “Whoa. Chris, uh…” Buck can’t seem to pick his jaw up off the floor. He does his best to sound stern, “Language. You can’t… Language, dude.”
He hears Chris scowl. “Yeah, yeah, Whatever. This is such bullshit! He talks to my Grandma on the phone all the time, and half the time it puts him in such a shitty mood! And they never visit us or anything, we’re always coming here! The last time anyone even came to LA was for my mom’s… for the funeral. And now, it’s like…” He sighs, voice evening out a bit. “It’s like my grandparents expect me to read their minds and act exactly how they want me to. And if I don’t they turn it into a lecture about how my dad’s a shitty parent.”
Buck bites the inside of his cheek hard. He knows that Eddie’s parents have a tendency to baby Christopher, which they should know is the quickest way to get under his skin. But this? Holding him to some impossible, made-up standard and making him feel bad about it? Trying to make him blame Eddie for it? The string around Buck’s heart starts to burn with something unspeakable, something primal deep within him that he can’t name.
In the days after Christopher left, as the dust started to settle and Eddie allowed himself to think past the fact that his son wasn’t coming home any time soon, this is exactly what he said would happen. He’d admitted it to Buck after a few too many beers at Buck’s loft during his ‘overcompensating-and-pretending-that-everything-is-fine’ phase that only lasted about a week. Eddie talked about how naturally his parents made him doubt himself without even trying to. That they weren’t trying to make him feel like shit, it was just a bad combination of people, that’s all. For the first time, Eddie admitted to Buck that he’s always watched the way his parents interacted with his son, listened to the way they spoke to him or about him, waiting for any sign that he should cut them off from Chris. But they’d never spoken down to Christopher the way they had to Eddie, so he chalked it up to immature paranoia. But that didn’t stop him from worrying if things would be different when Christopher was living under their roof, especially without him there. Worrying that his parents would start making Chris think less of himself. Less of Shannon. Less of Eddie. That they’d break down the strong foundations Eddie had worked so hard to help Chris build for himself.
“Chris, that’s really unfair. They shouldn’t be doing that to you.”
“I know,” Chris agrees confidently, and it puts Buck at ease just a little bit. Because of course he knows. Eddie raised Christopher to trust himself and ignore anyone who ever tried to make him think twice about it. “It’s just fucking annoying.”
Buck nods dumbly, as if Christopher could see him.
“Tía Adriana helps,” Christopher adds. “She’s uh… She’s inside arguing with my grandparents right now.”
Buck’s heart sinks. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever. I spend most of my time with her, which is nice. She’s cooler than I remembered.”
“That’s awesome, Chris. I’m so happy you guys have each other. Even if I am a little jealous.” He jokes.
Buck remembers the way the corners of Eddie’s mouth twitched upward ever so slightly when he told Buck that Adriana and Christopher have been spending a lot of time together. To Buck, it felt like the first step in Christopher being ready to come home. He knows how much Eddie loves his sisters, but the way he talks about Adriana seems different. Special. It reminds Buck of the way he gushes over Maddie, honestly. It must be such a relief to Eddie knowing that Adriana is there for Chris when he can't be.
“Yeah, she…” Chris clears his throat. “She has a lot of really cool stories about my mom. I guess they used to spend a lot of time together when I was a baby and my dad was in Afghanistan. I didn’t remember that.” His voice shakes slightly and Buck wants to start running now to see how quickly he could get to El Paso on foot. Before he can muster up something to say without sounding as sad as he is, Chris sniffles loudly and adds, “Buck?”
Buck clears his throat quietly. “Yeah, bud?”
“Um,” He hesitates. “The argument started ‘cause Dad called Grandma before. I think they got into an argument. So...” Christopher is whispering and the string around Buck’s heart loosens its hold ever so slightly. He can feel the difference as he realizes what Christopher is asking him to do.
“Hey, I’ll go check on him, okay? Don’t worry.” Buck assures him, wiping the snot from his nose with his sleeve and fishing for his car keys in his pocket. Ready to finally do something about the unbridled ball of energy sitting in his chest, crushing him slowly.
Christopher stays silent on the other end of the line for a long moment. Until, “Don’t go telling him I sent you though. I’m still pissed at him, obviously.”
“I won’t,” Buck spits out quickly.
“Good.”
Buck sighs. “Can I tell him we talked? Just so he knows I heard from you?”
Keeping Christopher’s trust is Buck’s priority, second only to keeping him safe. But lying to Eddie about this completely would be hard. Impossible even. He could never look his best friend in the eye and not tell him that Chris called. Buck prays Christopher won’t ask him to lie about this, because he would have no choice but to break his promise. He’d have to tell Eddie.
“Sure. But nothing about my grandparents! Or my mom! Or me!”
“I won’t tell him anything you don’t want me to.” Buck promises, hoping he can keep it.
“Good.” Christopher mumbles, sniffling again. “I should probably go inside, my tía’s supposed to bring me to some lookout. Apparently the stars are really pretty out there and my mom used to take her there all the time.”
It’s clear what Christopher is doing, rambling to keep himself from breaking. Buck does it all the time and it kills him that he can’t fix this for Chris. He’s too old for a trip to the zoo, or extra screen time to take his bad day away.
“Chris… Before we… You’re a really good kid, okay? A really good person. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel any different. Your mom and dad instilled so many amazing things in you, and you took all of it and made it even better. It’s important to me that you know that.”
“Thanks, Buck.” Another quiet sniffle as the arguing inside continues. And then, “You too, though.”
“What?”
“You gave me a lot of really good things too.”
God, this kid. This damn kid, who isn’t even going to be a kid for much longer. Buck wonders, not for the first time, what he did to ever deserve Christopher and Eddie. The love and understanding that they’re always so willing to give him, even in the worst of times. Even when he fails them, or they’re not speaking to each other. He just doesn’t know how to accept it all. But he’s trying to learn for them.
“Really?”
“Duh.” There’s a fondness hidden in Christopher’s snark that loosens the string around Buck’s heart, letting him breathe easy for the first time in weeks. Buck lets out a wet laugh and stops bothering trying to fight the tears. God, I miss you so fucking much.
Just as Buck opens his mouth to say goodbye, Christopher speaks up. More confident again. “You can tell my dad I told you that, if you want… He says it all the time anyways.”
Buck swears that the world around him stops. And once again, he’s standing there like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. Only now he’s crying, too. He probably looks insane, but he doesn’t care. Because Christopher is amazing and he thinks Buck had something to do with it. And so does Eddie, apparently.
The world tilts back into its correct axis for just a moment. Until he realizes Christopher is in Texas, Eddie is alone in his empty house, and Buck is here. With Tommy.
“Thank you so much for calling me, I miss you so much, Chris.”
“Yeah. Thanks, uh, for the advice, I guess. And…” He trails off. “Bye Buck.”
“Bye Chris, I love you.”
There’s a slight pause, until. “You too, Buck. Bye.”
And then the call is over and Buck is left alone outside of a fancy restaurant he doesn’t care about, with a boyfriend he still isn’t sure about. Tears still on his face and a tightness in his chest that seems to be reserved for Eddie and Christopher nowadays. His phone in one hand and his car keys in another, Buck makes a very bad decision.
He could go inside and explain to Tommy why he has to leave. But God, he doesn’t want to. He can picture Tommy’s annoyed face and judgy tone. Eddie’s kid? It bothered Buck before, but now? After hearing Christopher’s voice break over the phone? No way. He can’t go back in there and be met with anything less than genuine concern. So he doesn’t.
Buck runs toward the parking lot instead.
My name is Edmundo Diaz. I ruin everything I touch. My son is in Texas because he hates me. My parents want him to stay there because they hate me. My wife is dead and she hated me. Everyone in my life who doesn’t hate me yet, will soon.
Eddie butchers the anchoring statement that he and Frank had worked on together in his first session back, last week. Who knew that two sessions back in therapy wouldn’t magically fix him? (Answer: Anybody who’s paying attention).
The sound of the front door opening at the other end of the house breaks the deafening silence of Eddie’s empty house. “Eddie?”
Eddie groans loudly into his pillow. Why now? Why him? He pulls the covers up to his chin and turns his back to the door of his bedroom. Maybe if it looks like he’s asleep…
“Eddie!?” The familiar voice sounds worried already, because Eddie’s complete and utter mental breakdown isn’t exactly a secret. Especially not to Buck. So of course, he’s assuming the worst. Eddie tries not to hold it against him.
He pulls the other end of his pillow over his head and revels in the silence for a few moments before a huge hand yanks the pillow from his grip. Eddie flinches pathetically and doesn’t bother turning to look at the culprit. There’s only one person who has a key to his house, one person who says his name with so much worry. “Eddie.”
“What do you want, Buck?” Eddie mutters.
There’s a loud exhale behind Eddie and he urges his heart to react, it used to sink whenever his best friend was in distress. It used to burn when Buck was in pain. Instead, Eddie feels nothing. Completely hollow. Like all of the things he actually liked about himself had been carved out and tossed aside, along with all the things he hated too. He’s just an empty shell of a person, playing pretend for the sake of the people around him. Only he doesn’t really have much energy to keep up the charade anymore, something he wishes he cared about too.
“Are you okay?”
Stupid question. Colossally stupid question. “Dandy.”
Eddie’s eyes are open now and staring at the wall beside his bed, his back still to Buck. The light that had been sneaking in through the blinds when he first laid down is completely gone and Eddie wonders, not for the first time in recent weeks, how long he’s been laying here. He tends to spend most of his time at home in bed, simply because it's the only place in this house he's used to being alone. He can't sit on the couch without wishing Chris was there to watch telenovelas with. He can't linger in the kitchen without instinctively waiting for Chris to peek his head in and ask for a snack before dinner. And the dining room table feels oversized without Chris sitting across from him, doing homework. So, he stays in bed. It's not healthy, Eddie's known this since before Frank told him so. He just doesn't care about being healthy anymore. What's the point if Chris is better off eight hundred miles away anyway?
The bed creaks as Eddie feels it shift under Buck’s weight as he sits by Eddie’s feet. He lifts his legs to curl further into a ball under the covers. Anything to put space between them. That’s all Eddie can do for himself when he gets like this. Put space between himself and anyone who’s stupid enough to care about him. He ignores his sisters’ calls and texts. Rejects invitations to join Bobby and Athena for dinner. Or Hen and Karen for drinks. Or Chimney to shoot some hoops. Or Buck and Tommy for a movie. Or watching the game. Or a hike.
Usually it’s not this bad, but sometimes it unmistakably is. After a hard session with Frank. Or a tough shift. Or another call to Chris getting ignored. Or, in this case, an awful conversation with his mother.
Therapy is fine, Eddie, but you’ve gone down this road before and it still led us here. It’s great that you’re working on yourself, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready for Christopher to come home.
I know that. I have a lot of work to do but-
And if that work is ever done, then what?
What do you mean?
Eddie, the more work you do, the more you’ll build a routine for yourself that doesn’t have room for Christopher. You need to focus on taking care of yourself. Christopher is happy here. He’s taken care of. You don’t have to worry about him, just take care of yourself. That should be your priority.
The realization that his parents never intended for Christopher to return to LA hit Eddie the moment the phone call ended. After a hollow ‘Bye, love you,’ Eddie promptly fell apart. He tried to breathe deeply. He tried to hold an ice cube and ponder how it felt against his skin. He tried naming things he could see and touch. But none of it stopped the booming voice in his head telling him that his mother is right. How could he ever take care of Christopher when it takes so much work just to get himself through the day?
“Eddie,” Buck whispers. His voice is soft in that way that used to make Eddie’s heart settle into his rib cage comfortably. No matter how low he felt, the way Buck said his name always made him feel safe. But not now. “What happened?”
“You're supposed to be on a date with Tommy right now.”
"He cancelled. What happened?"
"Nothing."
Buck sighs again. “Please, just talk to me.”
Why? What could talking possibly do to change anything? It won’t magically fix Eddie’s brain. It won’t undo all of the damage he’s done to the one person left that Eddie was supposed to protect. It won’t make the weight of Eddie’s body any less impossible to lift from this bed.
“I don’t need another therapist,” Eddie croaks out. Which is definitely not true, but he leaves it at that anyway. Because he doesn’t want another therapist and just because Buck doesn’t know when to walk away, that doesn’t make him a qualified one.
“I’m not trying to be your therapist, I’m trying to be your friend. “ Buck leans over to try and catch his eye. Eddie closes his eyes stubbornly. "I'm-"
“You’re worried about me, I know. Everybody’s worried about Eddie.” Well, everybody except his own parents apparently. They got exactly what they wanted. Full access to Christopher without Eddie or Shannon in the way. Maybe this is what Christopher wants too. He wishes the very real possibility didn’t hurt. He wishes he didn’t deserve this.
He wishes Christopher was here.
“Yeah, we are.” Buck counters seriously. His voice is stern now, it sounds like he’s doing his best Bobby impression. “So you can keep telling me to fuck off, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why not!?” Eddie bursts. His eyes snap open and he finally turns his head to look at Buck. His face is distraught, maybe even a little hurt. But his eyes are zeroed in on Eddie and Eddie can’t take it. He can’t accept Buck’s unwavering love and support right now because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to feel anything other than completely empty. Because he did this. This is his fault. He deserves to feel nothing.
At first the distractions were nice. The first couple weeks without Chris here, Eddie and Buck (and sometimes Tommy) would spend their time keeping busy. Whether it was finding new spots to eat, or babysitting Jee-Yun and Mara together. Eddie even brought Buck to the driving range and taught him how to hold the club correctly. But Eddie could only run from reality for so long.
For a while, it only hurt when he was alone. Eddie was his normal self during shifts and shrugged off the way everyone seemed to be watching him, waiting for him to break. He put so much effort into seeming okay that he'd get home and just collapse into bed and sleep for hours. The reality that Chris isn’t just visiting Texas, but living there to escape from the home that Eddie had destroyed would hit him like a brick wall the second he was alone. Then, it started hanging over him all the time. Even on shifts, Eddie started keeping to himself. Gerrard’s reign of terror made it easy. There’s so much busy work to do around the firehouse that Eddie can just keep his head down and do meaningless cleaning until the bell rings. He didn’t bother pretending to be okay because everyone saw through it anyway. Most people don't harp on it because they know there isn't anything they can do to make him feel better. Most people.
“Eddie? Can you hear me?” Buck’s hand is on Eddie’s shin, shaking him gently. His iron grip tightens and Eddie can feel Buck’s warmth through his comforter. He tries to pull his leg out of Buck's grip, but it's no use.
Buck must’ve been saying something while Eddie drifted off again. That's been happening a lot lately too. Eddie would find himself completely lost in thought while someone was trying to talk to him. He should feel guilty for zoning out. Eddie wasn't raised to be so rude. He was raised to do as he was told with a smile on his face. But he doesn't feel guilty, he just feels angry that Buck's even wasting his time here.
“Go away, Buck.” Eddie continues to stare at the wall beside his bed. Waiting for Buck to let go of him. In more ways than one.
“No.”
Eddie’s too exhausted to argue or lash out or even get up and leave. The hollowness in him somehow weighs him down into the bed, and it’s just not worth the effort to fight it right now. So they stay like this. Eddie curled into himself, staring at nothing while Buck sits at his feet with a secure hand on his leg. Like he’s scared Eddie would fully disappear if he let go. And god, Eddie wishes he could.
[buck🦦]: dad’s ok. I hope u and your tía had a good time stargazing 💙
[Chris 🤩 liked your message]
Eddie doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up his legs are killing him. They’re still tucked up toward his chest uncomfortably. He tries to stretch them out but ends up kicking something. Someone. He opens an eye, only to see Buck fast asleep sprawled across the foot of Eddie’s bed.
“Buck,” Eddie groans, pushing his face back into his pillow groggily. He takes a slow breath before sitting up against the headboard, stretching his legs as much as he can without kicking Buck again.
Buck, who’s fast asleep in a position that Eddie can’t imagine, is very comfortable. His long legs are draped over the side of the bed, his feet still resting on the floor. He’s drooling all over the comforter, but Eddie doesn’t care because it’s Buck. Laying there in the patch of sunlight peeking in through the curtains, Buck looks beautiful.
Buck always looks beautiful, Eddie thinks, not for the first time or the last. It’s a truth Eddie accepted a long time ago, never wanting to think about it too much.
But he can’t look away because for the first time in two months, Buck actually looks peaceful. Between Gerrard’s awful leadership tactics at work, missing Bobby, and Christopher’s absence hovering over Eddie and Buck’s friendship, Buck has been on edge all summer. He knows that Buck worries about him a lot and he tries not to resent him for it, but all of that redirected resentment just turns into guilt. Because Eddie sees what missing Christopher has done to Buck. And he sees what worrying about Eddie has done to Buck too. Buck's smile isn't as natural anymore, it feels forced for show. And his eyes are almost always on Eddie when they're even remotely in eyesight of each other. Int he firehouse, in the engine, on call, at home, or out with Tommy. Buck's watching Eddie, waiting for a reason to check on him. It’s not in Buck’s nature to give up on anyone or anything, no matter how broken it is. It’s Eddie’s favorite thing about Buck, except when Eddie is the broken thing that Buck can’t walk away from.
Because if there's one thing that Eddie knows for certain is completely beyond repair, it's Eddie.
And watching Buck bend over backwards trying to find new ways to fix Eddie is embarrassing. Not because Buck coddles him regardless of who's around to watch (Buck's boyfriend included), but because Eddie is ashamed of how broken he is. No matter how long Eddie lives with the undeniable truth that he's permanently broken, it doesn't get any easier to admit out loud. Especially not to Buck.
If there's one thing Eddie knows, it's shame. He's practically been born and raised to know shame like the back of his hand. But with Buck, shame usually felt so far away. Eddie didn’t have time to feel wrong about himself because he had to focus on making sure Buck didn’t feel wrong. Because he’d been born and raised to know shame too. Maybe that’s why they worked so well.
Maybe that’s why, after a long night of spiraling during the longest month of Eddie’s life, he feels warmth spread through his chest at the sight of Buck smiling in his sleep.
Eddie’s breath is slow and even, subconsciously matching Buck’s as he snores quietly. A sound that Eddie misses some nights, when they’re not taking naps in the bunkroom at the firehouse. Eddie sits up slowly, reaching behind himself to grab his pillow. He carefully leans over Buck and lifts his head gently, sliding the warm pillow underneath it. Most people like their pillows cold, but not Buck. He loves warm pillows.
Buck immediately nuzzles into the pillow, taking a long, deep breath in. Eddie’s eyes are still heavy, but they stay locked on Buck helplessly.
So you can keep telling me to fuck off, but I’m not going anywhere!
Why not?!
Eddie tries to remember what Buck had said next. Whatever lame excuse he had for sticking around last night would probably end up upsetting Eddie more. Maybe that’s why he’d blocked it out in the moment. Succumbing to the depths of his broken brain to protect Buck from any more verbal abuse.
Now, he succumbs to a different part of his brain. A part that’s always been there, but has never really had the nerve to make any noise. Not until Eddie met Buck.
Buck, who offered to drive Eddie to Christopher’s school after the earthquake because he noticed Eddie’s hands shaking in the locker room. Buck, who subscribes to a telenovela streaming service to watch with Eddie ever since Chris decided he didn't want to watch them anymore. Buck, who can look so strong and unshakeable during a risky call, but then looks like the gentlest giant in the world when he’s holding Jee-Yun’s tiny hands in his. Buck, who still exchanges recipes with his Abuela and checks in on her since she moved back to Texas. Buck, who falls asleep in the most uncomfortable position imaginable after Eddie snapped at him just to make sure Eddie knows he isn’t alone.
Buck, who Eddie used to feel ashamed of loving as much as he does. For trusting Buck more than any woman he’s ever been with. Even Shannon. The guilt used to poke at him relentlessly, buried under decades of pushed down feelings. But now Eddie's completely empty. He feels like someone took an ice cream scooper and dug into his chest until there was nothing left to carve out. No more shame to push down, no more guilt to lash out against. Just Eddie. And all of his insatiable feelings for Buck. Feelings that are seeing sunlight for the first time, at this very moment.
Eddie lays another pillow on the middle of the bed, in front of Buck and turns his body around to lay his head on it. His legs hang off the side of the bed uncomfortably and his tired eyes fight to stay open so he can memorize every detail of Evan Buckley looking peaceful in front of him. A sight that is too rare for Eddie’s liking.
Slowly, Eddie reaches out and gently wipes at the trail of drool leaking out of the side of Buck’s mouth. The pad of his thumb lingers, making enough contact with Buck’s bottom lip to make Eddie’s brain stutter. Buck’s warm breath hits Eddie’s hand once, twice, three times, until he finally removes his hand. As he wipes the saliva on the comforter between them, Eddie swears he can feel the warmth from Buck’s breath spread all the way up his arm, to his shoulder. Across his chest to his other arm, down into each of his fingers. Down his chest, pooling in his stomach before stretching down his legs until it reaches his toes.
Eddie finally closes his eyes, basking in the warmth after a lifetime of being left out in the cold. He feels tears spill out onto his pillow but they aren’t shameful the way Eddie’s tears last night were. If Buck woke up right now, Eddie wouldn’t turn away and hide. He doesn’t even think he would lie this time if Buck asked what happened.
“You stayed,” Eddie whispers to himself before letting himself drift back off to sleep.
My name is Edmundo Diaz. I’m allowed to make mistakes. I’m allowed to have bad days, but they don’t define me. I’m allowed to ask for help. I'm allowed to panic. I’m allowed to have feelings. I’m allowed to love Buck. I’m allowed to be in love with Buck, even if I could never deserve him.