Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I Should Be Much Too Smart For This

i.

Eddie watches as the scenery flies by outside his window. He really, really should be trying to get some sleep - he knows that he needs to take over soon; however, between the rumble of the truck’s engine, the sound of the tires against the asphalt, and the gentle drone of the podcast coming through the truck’s speakers, Eddie almost feels, for the first time in two weeks, peaceful.

“You should be napping,” Buck’s gentle voice fills the space between them, and Eddie stretches as much as he can in the space that he’s got.

“Anxious,” he says softly as he shakes his head. “Scared that we’re gonna get to the other end of this, and he’ll have figured out he’s better off and this will be a wasted trip.”

“Eddie,” Buck’s tone carries a note of warning and a tinge of exasperation. It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation… It's not even the first time in the last 4 hours. “You know that’s not gonna happen, man. Besides, Maddie’s put together a ‘Keep an eye on Chris and Adrianna’ schedule that’s going to keep them under surveillance almost twenty-four-seven until we’re back in…” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his watch. “Exactly 3 and a half days.”

Eddie huffs a short laugh. “I’m not entirely sure leaving Adrianna was the best idea either.”

Buck hums and navigates the jeep around an RV. “I-I don’t think she’s all that much in a rush to get back to El Paso, Eddie, so… so for now, just, relax, because in about an hour and a half we’re stopping in Tempe and you’re buying snacks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but nods. “Got it… this is me… relaxing. Let me know when it’s time to switch.”

“Uh-huh,” Buck mumbles. 

Eddie closes his eyes and lets the mid-morning sun fill him with warmth and as the white noise of the drive settles over him like a blanket, he lets his mind drift back over the events of the last two weeks.

The first two days had been spent on the phone in some kind of weird back and forth with his parents—more specifically, his mother—who had wanted to fly out and bring Christopher back to El Paso, convinced as she was that Eddie and his ‘partner’ had somehow tricked Christopher and Adrianna into flying out to LA without having a conversation with any of the adults involved… that had lasted until Christopher had gotten on the phone and spoken to both of his grandparents, much to Eddie’s shock and Adrianna’s delight.

It felt like the phone had rung non-stop once they’d left Buck’s place. The first time it had rung, it had been abuela, wanting to speak with Adrianna and ensure that she and Christopher had made their flight and arrived safely. She was still in Chaparral, but had seen the volume of missed calls from Ramon and Helena. Eddie, when he’d finally gotten the phone from Adrianna, had tried to scold his grandmother for her role in all the chaos, but instead, had had to slip out to the backyard, whispering his thanks and love for the older woman with promises to pay her back for Christopher’s airfare at least. 

“Oh, my Eddito,” she’d said softly into the phone. “You will do no such thing. It was beyond time for Christopher to come home, and I for one am happy to ensure that he made it back in one piece, accompanied by an adult.”

Eddie’s laughter had sounded damp around the edges and he quickly pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off any tears. “But you didn’t come with him, unless Adrianna and Chris abandoned you at the airport?”

Isabel’s laughter, and promise that she would be back in LA for a visit soon enough, had gone a long way to soothe some of the ache in Eddie’s chest that seemed to bloom whenever he spoke with the Díaz matriarch.

It hadn’t been long after Eddie had hung up from his abuela that the phone had rung again, his father’s name and picture flashing up on the call screen. When he’d answered, his father had sounded tired.

“Eddie, is your sister there?”

Eddie had looked between Adrianna and Christopher before jerking his head in the direction of Christopher’s room. Whatever was about to be said, his son didn’t need to hear it.

“Yeah, dad, she’s here.”

“Can we—I. Can I please speak to her?” Eddie had looked at the phone in his hand, he’d expected a shouting match, not this quiet resignation. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite picture the Ramon that he was speaking to, sitting in their family home in El Paso.

“Uh, sure, dad. Adri?” Eddie held out the phone towards his baby sister with every intention of leaving the room until she’d clutched at his wrist, tugging him to sit down beside her on the couch. That had been the point where Chris had slipped away into his bedroom, dragging his suitcase behind him, and Adrianna had clung onto Eddie like he was a piece of flotsam on the ocean.

Eddie remembers the way Adrianna had apologised profusely to her father for not telling him, tears streaming down her face for scaring him (and by extension, their mother), for freaking Eddie out, and arriving unannounced. He remembers the way she apologised for roping abuela into their scheme, but she hadn’t wanted to order an uber to the airport and hadn’t wanted to leave her car in the extended stay lot, or call on Sophia who she knew would talk her out of it, or tell their mom.

He thinks about the way he’d slipped the phone out of her hand as she buried her face in his neck and cried, even as his father had murmured reassurances to them both before bidding them goodnight and that he’d inevitably talk to them tomorrow. In the time between then and now, he’d gotten more out of both Adrianna and Christopher about Chris’ time in El Paso, but there were holes in their story that were big enough to drive the 118’s ladder truck through, and he was hoping that his trip to pick up the rest of Chris’ belongings would help fill them in.

He opens one eye when he hears Buck swear softly. “Everything alright?”

Buck smiles and nods, and Eddie can see the muscles in his legs shift as he gently taps the break. “Yep. Speed trap ahead.”

“Ah,” Eddie grins and shakes his head. “Maybe ease up on the gas there, Speed. Wouldn’t want you to get another ticket.”

He doesn’t need to be watching Buck’s face to know that the other man is rolling his eyes, but he tilts his head until he’s watching Buck’s profile, grinning at the way his cheeks and ears turn pink.

“Eddie, that’s…” Buck huffs, and Eddie can’t help it, the laugh is out of his chest and filling the cabin of the truck before he can stop it and Buck’s lower lip is extended in a pout. “I’ll have you know that I haven’t had a ticket in like… like… six months!”

“So, that wasn’t a ticket I saw shoved under the take-out menus on the fridge the other night?” Eddie smirks as Buck’s flush deepens and his pout turns into a scowl. “Thought as much. You know, we should really get you a red bandanna, you could definitely lean into the whole Speed Racer, Mach 5 thing.”

“Shut up,” Buck laughs and reaches over the centre console to shove at Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such an asshole. Besides, if I’m Speed, what does that make you, Spritle? Chim-Chim?”

“Definitely not,” Eddie laughs. “I’m way more—.”

“I suppose you could be Trixie,” Buck teases, tapping a finger against his chin, watching Eddie from the corner of his eye.

Eddie flips Buck off. “I was going to say, I’m way more like Racer X thank you very m—.”

“Eddie, Eds,” Buck manages between guffaws. “I want to get us to your abuela’s house in one piece, man, please don’t make me laugh.”

Eddie shakes his head and turns in his seat. “I don’t remember enough about the damn cartoon to know if Speed had a best friend, Buck, but I’m sure as hell not the monkey or the annoying little brother.”

Buck chuckles softly. “Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure his best friend was the girl in the helicopter - Trixie.”

Eddie folds his arms over his chest. “Uh, no, I’m pretty sure she was the love interest? At least, in the film she was the love interest… and she flew a helicopter, so, maybe you’re just getting me confused…” Eddie trails off as he realises what he’s saying. Fuck. He mentally scolds himself, talk about open mouth and insert foot; right about now, he’s pretty sure he’s swallowed up to his kneecap.

Buck hadn’t really spoken about Tommy since the afternoon Eddie had told him about potentially moving to El Paso. Once again, his own issues had bullied their way to the center of their worlds and Buck’s distress over his break-up had been shunted to the side. Way, way, way to the side.

Eddie mentally kicked himself and ran everything that had happened in the last few weeks through his head. “Shit, Buck. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Buck shrugged. “Nothing to apologise for.”

“Buck, c’mon, you—.” Eddie started but was cut off.

“No, really. I-I’m okay, Eddie.” He cast a quick look in Eddie’s direction before focusing back on the road. “I’ve had a lot of time to think it over and I’ve come to the conclusion… I am better off.”

Eddie’s gaze narrows as he watches his best friend, he takes note of the tension he can see settling around his shoulders and in his hands. “Damn straight,” Eddie says. If Buck wants to not talk about it, then Eddie will gladly follow his lead and not talk about it (and not examine the reasons why Tommy’s sudden absence fills him with a sense of relief). “But, uh, if you did want to talk about it,” he says softly. “I’m here for you Buck.”

Eddie watches Buck’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows, sees the way his fingers flex and thinks maybe—just maybe—he’s pushed a little too hard where Buck’s break-up with Tommy is concerned. There’s no sound in the truck except for the soft drone of the podcast Buck was listening to, and the wheels against the road.

Just when he thinks Buck’s not going to answer, that the silence is going to suffocate them both, there’s a slight nod, and a softly indrawn breath.

“I know, Eds.”

☆

Eddie’s chest loosens as he turns onto the paved driveway, the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding leaking out of him so slowly, like a long-forgotten helium balloon. He feels a weight slide off his shoulders and he sinks back against the driver’s seat.

“Buck,” he says softly—too softly if the other man’s continued snuffles and snores are anything to go by. He tries again. “Buck, hey, c’mon man,” he reaches across the center console and gently shakes Buck by the shoulder. “We’re here.”

“Whu?” Buck mumbles as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the drool from his chin.

As Eddie brings the car to a stop, the front light flickers on and the door opens before his abuela steps out into the night, pulling a coat around her shoulders and lifting her hand in a wave.

Eddie laughs and kills the engine. “We’re here. Abuela’s waiting.” He double checks the hand brake is on before undoing his seatbelt and springing out of the car. He’s up the short flight of stairs—taking them two at a time—and pulling his grandmother into a hug.

“Oooh! My Edmundo!” She cries and presses her face into his chest before pulling back and reaching for him.

“I told you not to wait up for us,” Eddie says, even as he bends down so she can press kisses to his cheeks and make the sign of the cross.

Isabel rolls her eyes. “It’s only seven o’clock, how old do you think I am, Edmundo?” She swats at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Besides, my gentleman caller will be here at eight.”

“Well,” Buck says as he settles his and Eddie’s duffles by their feet before wrapping Isabel in a hug of his own. “That’s gonna get real awkward, real fast because I was planning on whisking you away to somewhere romantic.”

Isabel and Buck’s laughter is enough to drown out Eddie’s groan.

Eddie stands back to watch as the pair embrace and exchange pleasantries, shaking his head as they flirt back and forth. While they do, he lets his gaze wander around the front porch. He’s only been here one other time—he’d dropped her off, following his father’s retirement party—but even then, in the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine, there had been something missing from her house. It lacks whatever abuela-magic her home in LA had; Eddie had originally attributed it to the fact that his grandmother’s home in LA had been painted a bright, sunny yellow which never failed to make him grin, but now, he wonders if it’s not just El Paso that makes him feel like he’s missing something.

“C’mon, let’s get you both inside.” Isabel says softly, reaching up to cup Eddie’s cheek once more as she turns away. “I know you’ve not been back to El Paso in a while, Eddito, but surely you’d remember that it can get cold in December?” She raises her eyebrow and ushers both men through the front door.

☆

Eddie watches the morning light shift across the ceiling. He’s been slowly building up the mental strength to go and face his parents today, to collect the rest of Christopher’s things, but the sick-anxious-scared feeling in his gut has him frozen to the bed. He can hear quiet murmurs coming from outside his bedroom door and the shuffle of slippered feet, and he wonders what his grandmother and Buck think of his reluctance; wonders if Buck’s hit that point where he’s had enough of Eddie’s inability to stand up to his parents (his mother), afterall, Shannon had hit that point too, shortly before Christopher had turned five, leaving nothing but a note on Eddie’s bedside table.

He wonders if Buck’s note would be as simple.

There’s a soft knock at the door and Eddie can’t help the sick swoop of guilt that makes his stomach turn. Buck and he aren’t even… That’s not even something he has to worry about, he’s not… His face flushes when there’s another knock at the bedroom door.

“Eddito?” His abuela’s voice is soft and gentle and it gives him a moment to settle the racing in his chest.

“I’m awake, abuela.” He calls, sitting up and dragging his hands through his hair.

“Oh, good.” The door opens and Eddie’s treated to his grandmother’s warm smile and even warmer gaze as she enters, clutching a steaming mug to her chest.

Eddie grins, “Is that…” he trails off, reaching for the mug.

“Mine,” Isabel smirks and turns so the mug is protected. “Yours is out in the kitchen, along with the huevos rancheros Buck made for breakfast.” She settles on the edge of the bed by Eddie’s legs, her smirk turning into quiet laughter when he pouts.

Eddie sticks his lower lip out further, purposefully widening his eyes. He had perfected this hang-dog look on his tías and abuela by the time he was six, it had never failed him before.

“Oh fine,” abuela says, rolling her eyes and holding out the mug. “But only a sip.”

Eddie grins and wraps his fingers around the offered mug, letting the warmth radiate up his arms as he inhales deeply. The sweet smell of the chocolate and the cinnamon fills him with a sense of safety and love. He blows across the top of the drink to cool it slightly before having a sip, and can feel his abuela’s eyes on him.

“Thank you for letting us stay,” he says, looking down into the mug of hot chocolate. “I know you don’t– don’t really have the room and I don’t want you to be caught in the middle of all of this…”

“Bah,” Isabel slashes a hand through the air. “You talk as if you had a choice, Edmundo. No grandson of mine is going to stay in some… motel… while I have a perfectly good guest room. Besides, it’s good to see Evan again.”

Eddie laughs into the mug, taking another slow sip; the tiny kick from the cayenne warming the back of his throat, spreading down into his belly. “Don’t tell anyone, but, I’m pretty sure Buck’s only here because he didn’t want to miss out on seeing you.”

Eddie grins when his grandmother flushes and rolls her eyes. He knows that she has a soft spot for his best friend (for both Maddie and Buck, if he’s being completely honest), and knows that Buck has been smitten with Isabel Díaz since the first time she’d ever taken him into her house, into her kitchen, and shown him how to make chilaquiles.

“Of course he’s here to see me,” Isabel says, tilting her chin up haughtily. “Who else would he be here to see? And also, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, mí tesoro, I said a single sip.”

The laughter that bubbles up from Eddie’s stomach and fills his chest with a lightness he hasn’t felt in a very long time, is what he assumes childish joy to feel like. It isn’t really something he has ever had first hand experience with, not after Sophia and Adrianna had been born, and it isn’t something he normally associates with El Paso. His abuela and abuelo? Definitely. It had filled their small home in Mesquite whenever he’d visit, but then his abuelo had passed away, and abuela had moved to LA to be near Pepa and Paco and then… 

“Now, tell me, why is your amante sleeping on the floor, hmm? And why did I have to hear about this from your mother of all people?”

Eddie, mouth full of hot chocolate and in the process of handing the mug back to his grandmother begins to choke and wheeze. The comforting liquid - that wasn’t currently choking him - dribbles down his chin and onto the quilt he’s tucked around himself to keep the winter chill at bay.

“Abuela!” He manages between heaving breaths, pulling at the hem of his shirt and wiping his face. “Jesus Christ!”

He rolls his eyes as she hisses at him, slapping his arms. “Edmundo! Such language!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes to placate his grandmother before thumping on his chest to clear it. “But it’s not… Buck isn’t… Why would she say that?” Eddie feels his cheeks heat up with more than just the aftermath of choking on his grandmother’s drink. 

Eddie wants to squirm; he can feel his grandmother’s shrewd gaze on him as he flushes and fumbles in his head for an answer that’s not going to have her peering through to the heart of him that’s been kept hidden for the last twenty-odd years. His gaze falls on the neatly folded and stacked bedding on the air mattress in the corner of the room.

“Edmundo,” his grandmother’s voice is warm and gentle, and he feels ten years old again.

“We aren’t… like… that, abuela.” He says softly. “Why would she even say that?”

In the two weeks that Chris has been home, Eddie has learned—mostly from Adrianna—that his mother had been talking about ways to ensure Eddie’s return to El Paso, that Christopher’s first few weeks of living out of his suitcase in Eddie’s childhood bedroom, saw her planning and reassuring Christopher that Eddie would soon be there, and that when that hadn’t happened...

“Oh, Eddito,” his grandmother reaches out and cups his cheek, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone in a soothing gesture. “Your mother has said a lot these last few months, but this one, I believe, came from something the police told her when she went to file that ridiculous missing persons report.”

Eddie runs the conversation he’d had with the El Paso PD back in his head, it had been a nothing conversation in the grand scheme of things. He remembers wanting to toss his phone over the side of Buck’s balcony, he remembers the fear that had curled its way around his heart at the idea that LAPD were going to come knocking on his door to take Chris away, that his parents were going to come knocking on his door to take Chris away, and then… Eddie’s eyes widen and his mouth makes a small little moue of realisation. 

He had told the officer that Chris and Adrianna had shown up at his partner’s place.

Fuck.

“Abuela,” Eddie says slowly, shaking his head. “I… when I spoke with the officer on the phone, I told him that Chris and Adri had shown up at my partner’s apartment. At-at Buck’s place.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and… “It’s not like I was being dishonest, he is my partner. He-he’s my work partner, I didn’t—didn’t think that… Surely they would know I…” Eddie trails off when he hears his grandmother sigh.

“Edmundo,” she waits patiently until he meets her gaze. “Buck is more than that to you, and you and I both know it.”

Eddie feels his stomach do a slow roll and the pleasant warmth from the hot chocolate leaves a metallic taste in the back of his mouth. His heart thunders in his chest and he feels like he’s going to slip away any moment now; just simply float up and away from his grandmother.

“Of course he’s more than just my partner, abuela. He–he’s my best friend.” He swallows, can feel the dry click in the back of his throat as he does so. He runs his hand over his face, in the hopes that it will buy him… he’s not entirely sure what, whether it’s time, or courage, or understanding, he can’t quite put his finger on it. He just knows that if she keeps looking at him like that, then everything he’s worked very long and hard to keep tucked away is going to come rushing out with the force of a tsunami-mudslide-gunshot-lightning bolt, and make a mess of the life he’s carefully curated for him and his son. There’s another sigh, and the tone of it is one Eddie hasn’t heard since he’d told his abuela he was enlisting all those years ago, when Chris was still just a tiny little pink plus sign on a stick. 

“I just want you to be happy, mi cielo.”

Eddie feels the corners of his lips pull up in a small smile. “How can I not be happy, abuela?” He reaches out to hug her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “My son is home and the best woman I know let me drink half of her hot chocolate.”

~

Buck is out on the front porch, the sky, from where he’s standing, looks grey, but his weather app (and Isabel) tells him that it will clear up before midday and it’s not like it doesn’t get cool in LA—it does, the sherpa jacket he keeps in the back of his closet is proof enough. Still… It's cool enough here that he’s grateful for the hoodie he’d thrown in his duffle bag last minute when he packed.

But it’s more than just the weather that has him looking for warmth. 

When he’d woken up and made his way to the kitchen, Isabel had been sitting quietly in the kitchen, not waiting, not technically, but, that’s what it felt like all the same. He’d begged to cook her breakfast, pleased to finally show her just how far he’d come since the few times he’d been able to cook for her before she’d moved back here. They talked quietly while he puttered around the kitchen under her gentle direction; she had filled him in on her life here in El Paso, and he’d told her about Tommy and the baking bonanza that had followed the break up. She’d held his hand after he’d set a plate in front of her, and squeezed it tightly.

“Someone who isn’t willing to be both your first and your last, Evancito, is not someone who is worthy of your love.” She’d whispered fiercely before nudging him to eat his own breakfast while it was still warm.

Buck had laughed, made a joke that Isabel had waved away with a light flush to her cheeks and a roll of her eyes, and before long, she was finishing her breakfast, pressing her lips to his cheek and sending him off to shower and get ready to face the day.

He’d followed her instructions, unable to shake the lingering warmth in his chest that he was certain had something to do with him being in the presence of an honest-to-god grandparent, and he was now waiting outside on the patio, willing time to speed up so he and Eddie can get the difficult bits over with.

His phone pings and he fumbles in his pocket for it.

Maddie 💕

Just checked in on Chris and Adrianna.

House is still standing. Adrianna said to tell

Eddie that she’s taking Chris to get his first tattoo.

I told her a face piercing would be more believable.

Buck laughs and double-taps the message, sending Maddie through a little heart. God he hopes Eddie doesn’t get that message until Buck can see his face.

“You know, you could have woken me up this morning.” Eddie’s voice filters through Buck’s thoughts and he slips his phone back into his pocket, before turning to watch Eddie step out onto the porch.

“And miss out on making your abuela breakfast?” Buck smirks. “Not on your life.”

He watches Eddie roll his eyes. “I'm pretty sure you could have cooked breakfast if I was awake.”

Buck shrugs and turns to face the El Paso sky once more. “Yeah, but… you needed the sleep and Isabel and I needed time to catch up without commentary from the peanut gallery.”

“You can call her ‘abuela’, she won’t mind.” Eddie comes to stand beside him.

Buck knows he can call her abuela, has had a million conversations over the last seven years that do nothing but go around and around in circles with the woman in question about what he can call her, and he flushes and tells her thank you, but Isabel is fine on account of the one time he’d called her Mrs Díaz and had been treated to a lecture on how Mrs Díaz was her daughter in-law, and she was so much more than just a Mrs any body. So, yeah. Buck knows he can call her abuela, and he does. Sometimes. In his head, because it’s so much easier to just call her Isabel than it is to admit that he doesn’t feel worthy of the unit he has found himself in, let alone a grandmother like the five-foot-two firecracker who would stare down the mountains for her family.

“We should probably think about heading to your parents place soon,” Buck says in lieu of a response. “Sooner we get there and pack up the rest of Chris’ things, the sooner you can find out what happened.”

He can feel Eddie’s gaze boring into the side of his head.

Buck sighs and rubs his jaw. “What?” Eddie’s gaze feels like feathers across hyper-sensitive skin and he wonders for a minute if he’s done that thing that Maddie says he does sometimes—wear his every thought and feeling on his face.

“Nothing, just, uh…” Eddie turns and looks out at the yard. “You alright? You seem kinda… far away?”

Buck smiles and nods. “Yeah, just thinking—.”

“Wondered what that burning smell was.” Eddie grins and checks him with his shoulder.

“And this is exactly why I didn’t wake you up,” Buck says, shoving Eddie in return. “You know what, I wonder if Isabel wants to move back to LA with me. She and I can leave your ass here to rot with the rest of the desert.”

Eddie’s laughter wraps around Buck and the warmth he’d felt earlier with Isabel in the kitchen is back ten-fold, and he thinks—not for the first time since Eddie had talked about moving back to El Paso—that he doesn’t really need much more than this, no matter what his heart might want.

~

His parents’ house looms ahead at the other end of the street and Eddie feels like he is about to vomit. Without thinking, he pulls over to the side of the road and rests his head against the steering wheel, taking slow, deep breaths to ease the racing of his pulse. Buck’s running commentary, that hadn’t let up since they’d climbed into the car back at his abuela’s, comes to a slow, stuttering halt.

“Uh, Eddie?” Buck asks softly, and Eddie can feel the hesitation as he reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder. “You okay? I mean, we… we can come back later if you aren’t ready, or-or I can drop you off and abuela and I can come back and collect everything?”

Eddie smiles at the steering column before turning to watch Buck from his right eye. “I’m… I’m gonna be alright, just, she was upset, you know, the last time we spoke. We-we both were.”

Eddie watches as Buck nods, but he can’t school his features fast enough to hide the grimace at Helena being upset. They both know that it’s far too tame a word for the anger and venom that had been poured through the phone—by both parties, Eddie’s not above admitting that he gave just as good as he got—during their second-last shift prior to coming to El Paso.

“Ri-right,” Buck says, looking between Eddie and the world outside the truck. “Which is why Isabel and I offered to… maybe you guys still need some space?”

Eddie smiles at that, knows how awkward Buck feels about this whole situation, because he’d been sitting right there on the edge of Eddie’s bunk at the station when she said:

“And I suppose this partner of yours will be joining you, like it’s not embarrassing enough that you’ve dragged your colleagues into your mess as well.”

Eddie remembers how Buck had blanched at the tone in Helena’s voice (he had only ever seen and heard her be cordial towards him), before his face had gone white, and then red with anger on Eddie’s behalf, brow furrowed and jaw twitching as he drew breath to defend Eddie.

“Actually, my partner will be there.” He’d replied. “After all, I need to know that someone will have my back, and not just so they can stick a knife in it. We’ll be there on Saturday.”  

He’d ended the call and thrown his phone down on the bunk, ignoring Buck’s wide-eyed stare, much in the same way that he was trying to ignore it now.

“Thanks, Buck, but if I don’t do it now…” Eddie says softly, taking a deep breath and sitting up. “Like a band-aid right? Just… rip the sucker off?”

Buck chuckles softly and nods. “Right. And remember, I’ve got your back.” He gives Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze before he sits back in the seat and stares ahead.

Eddie nods and puts the truck back into drive before pulling back out into the street. “Right, and I’ve got yours. Just uh,” Eddie says as they are about to pull into the driveway, he can see his dad sitting on the porch-swing and lifts his hand in a little wave. “Uh, when we go in there, my mom might… she might be under the impression that we’re partners.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see Buck’s face twist in confusion and he has to hold back the laugh he can feel circulating in his chest.

“Well, we…we are partners.” Buck says softly, lifting his own hand in a wave to Ramon as the car comes to a rolling stop.

“No, Buck, like, she thinks we’re…” Eddie can feel his face heat up and he’s almost certain it could be colour matched to the bright pink rain lilies his mother grows by the front walk.

“Oh,” Buck says and Eddie watches his brow crinkle even more as he tries to work out just what Eddie means, and then…

“OH!”

“Yeah.” Eddie feels something lurch in his stomach at the flush that spreads across Buck’s nose and cheeks, watching it as it trails down his throat to disappear behind the collar of his hoodie. “I’ll… I’ll set everyone straight, but uh… if she says anything before I… I just wanted you to have a head’s up.”

Buck nods his head slowly and Eddie kills the engine and waits. “And so she just thinks…”

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck and motions for his dad to just wait a moment. “I guess when I spoke with the police the night Chris and Adrianna arrived, I said that… Well no, it’s not a guess, I know that I told the police Chris and Adri had shown up at your loft… at my partner’s loft. Guess they relayed that to my mom, and she kinda ran with it and started telling people we were… seeing each other. Which is ridiculous, because we aren’t like that.”

Eddie watches Buck’s face closely. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his hand comes up to scratch at the side of his neck underneath his ear. Eddie can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, and he wonders for a moment if the idea of them being something more than just best friends and work partners is too much of a bitter pill to swallow. Eddie’s watching so closely that he sees the moment Buck resigns himself to it, and his heart does something unpleasant.

“Right, right,” Buck nods, not able to meet Eddie’s gaze as he opens the door. “And you’ll… no worries.”

“Buck—.” Eddie begins, reaching out to stop him, hand hanging uselessly over the centre console as Buck calls out a greeting to Ramon.

“C’mon Eddie,” he says, rapping on the roof of the truck. “Chris’ things aren’t going to load themselves.”

And Eddie can’t pull Buck back into the truck, can’t demand anything of the other man really, not when Buck’s already given so much of his time to support Eddie (and Chris) through this whole damn bullshit thing. Sighing, he climbs out of the car and greets his father with a strained smile.

~

“D-do you have any boxes?” Buck asks Ramon once they’re inside the house, standing in a room that has traces of Christopher all over it, but Eddie is tucked into every corner and hidden space. Buck smiles a little at a book about marine biology (Christopher’s, if their conversations over the past two weeks are anything to go by) wedged between a book called ‘Baseball: An Illustrated History’, and a tenth-grade biology textbook that looks about twenty years out of date.

Ramon nods and motions over his shoulder. “Uh, in the storage space under the stairs. There – there should be tape and paper for wrapping if we need it.”

Buck nods even as Eddie moves towards the door. An uncomfortable air had settled between them the moment they’d gotten out of the truck, and it had stretched to cover Ramon the moment they’d stepped over the threshold of the house.

“I’ll get them.” Buck says to no-one in particular. “You could probably start with the clothes…” Buck ducks out the door and into the hallway, he’s unable to hold back a sigh of relief as he takes a deep breath of air that doesn’t feel heavy with the weight of awkwardness.

As he walks away he can hear Eddie ask, “So, uh, where’s mom? I-I thought she’d be here…”

“She just… she needs some time, Eddie.” Ramon replies, and Buck’s not sure—after all, he doesn’t know Ramon that well, he’s met the man a grand total of four times, and one of those times had been Shannon’s funeral, and one had been when they’d come to take Chris—but he thinks he can hear a mixture of resignation and sadness in the older Díaz’s tone.

“She needs time?” And there is no mistaking the incredulity in Eddie’s tone, and for a moment, Buck thinks he should go back in there and do something to ease what he’s sure is a rising tension which will inevitably blow up in Eddie’s (and his by sheer proximity) face. “Oh, oh that’s rich…”

The conversation fades out as Buck opens the cupboard door under the stairs; he’s not sure he wants to hear the arguments, and is damn sure it’s not his place to interfere. Instead, he sets about locating the bound flat-packs of cardboard and rolls of packing tape and butcher’s paper they will need to pack Chris’ things.

As he makes his way back to the room, boxes, tape, and paper in hand, the murmur of Eddie’s and Ramon’s voices becomes clear once more.

“And so what if I am? God, I’ve spent so long trying to make everyone else happy, trying to please everyone around me: you, mom, the girls, Shannon, Christopher… isn’t it my turn?” Eddie sounds so forlorn, and Buck wants to go in there and tell him what Dr Copeland had told him - other people’s happiness should not come at the expense of his own, but instead, he bites his lip and waits.

“Eddie, it’s… if you are, then, we love you, that doesn’t change.” Ramon says. “It’s the–it’s the hiding, and the… the chaos that comes with it. You think it’s healthy to keep repeating the same thing over and over and hoping for a different result? You told me going to therapy was about you getting better, being better, for yourself. Being better should mean that you’re being honest.”

Buck can’t see either man, but he can picture Eddie so clearly in his mind’s eye, arms folded over his chest like a shield, a scowl on his face like he’s waiting for the worst kind of news.

“Honest? You want to talk about being honest?” And Buck knows that tone, knows that Eddie’s working himself into a full-blown tirade, so, Buck takes another deep breath, like he’s about to dive head-first into an oncoming wave, and let’s the packing materials slide from his arms, causing him to trip and stumble into the wall.

“Shit, sorry!” He says, patting and checking to make sure he hasn’t inadvertently dented the drywall as Ramon and Eddie both come out into the hallway, eyes wide.

“Buck!” 

“Sorry, tripped. But, uh, these should be good, right?” Buck gives both men a sheepish smile, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes narrow as he gestures to the packing materials. Buck meets Eddie’s calculating stare with wide, blue eyes and gives him his most guileless smile, his heart racing in his chest when Eddie’s only response is to roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Klutz,” Eddie’s tone has softened to something warm and familiar, and Buck can feel some of the tension melt out of his shoulders as it washes over him. “How you ever passed the academy, I’ll never know.” He shakes his head and crouches to pick up the soon-to-be boxes. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

“Edmundo,” Ramon says softly as Eddie carries the bulk of the packing stuff into the room. “We should finish—.”

“And we will finish this conversation, but right now, papí, I just want to get Christopher’s things packed and into the truck. Besides, I think mom needs to be a part of this conversation, don’t you?”

Buck waits patiently, breath caught behind his teeth as he waits. He knows that if he offers to go outside and let the two men finish whatever they were talking about, Eddie will be on him in an instant, and he thinks it is more likely to make the situation even more awkward than it was. When Ramon concedes, Buck slips into the room and begins the process of taping up the boxes so that they’ll be ready to fill with Christopher’s things.

☆

Buck turns his face into the late afternoon winter sun as he waits by the car, eyes closed as he soaks up its warmth. There’s a gentle cough behind him and Buck startles for a second before looking up as Ramon, eyebrow raised slightly and a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, holds out the last box of Christopher’s books to settle in the back of Eddie’s truck. It’s been a tense couple of hours as the three of them worked to pack up Christopher’s belongings before loading them into the truck, but now that the last of the boxes are situated, it feels like the tension is starting to lift.

“It’s, uh, amazing how much stuff a person can accumulate in such a short time.” Buck says softly, looking over at the two suitcases worth of clothes and five boxes of books and games and things Chris had accumulated during his time in El Paso.

Ramon huffs but nods nonetheless and gives Buck a quick smile. “It only gets worse as they get older,” he looks back to the house and points to a section of the roof. “The attic is full of boxes from when Adrianna, Sophia and Eddie were growing up. We tell ourselves we’re going to go up there every year or two, sort through them, keep what’s important but…” he trails off with a shrug, and Buck thinks he understands.

How do you decide which moments, which memories, need tangible proof that they happened, when all of them could benefit from a reminder that yes it happened, yes they exist, yes they were here?

He thinks about Maddie and her baby box, and the ziploc bag of postcards she’d presented him after his parents had left that one time and can’t stop the grin that spreads slowly across his face. He resolutely does not think about his parents, or Daniel, and how they’d kept his own brother’s memory buried underneath grief and anger, guilt and shame; hoarded it like that dragon from the films Chris had made him watch about elves and dwarves, so much that Maddie had held their secret until it had almost choked her.

“Yeah, I think Eddie has boxes of his own at the back of his garage,” Buck gives a soft laugh as he flicks a tie from one side of the truck bed to the other, watching as Ramon moves to tie it all down. “Labelled and kept in chronological order, like, Chris - January 1st, 2018.”

Ramon laughs at that, big bellied and loud, and Buck is struck by just how much Eddie sounds like his father. “Maybe we need you to stick around for a few more days then, you could do that in the attic.”

Buck grins as they settle into a silence that’s far less awkward now than it had been at the start of their day, and finishes strapping down the truck.

“I could hear you two laughing from the dining room, what’s so funny?” Eddie asks as he joins them, coming down from the house and carrying Christopher’s laptop and gaming console.

Buck shares a smile with Ramon, and they shake their heads. “Nothing,” Buck says, rounding the car, hand held out. “It… it was good to see you again, Mr Díaz.”

“Ramon, please. And it was good to see you too, Buck.”

Chapter Text

ii.

Eddie is pulling out of the driveway and back into the street, only after extracting a promise from his father that he and his mom come to lunch at abuela’s tomorrow. The awkwardness that had lifted somewhat while they had been packing up Christopher’s things, seems to be back with a vengeance; more oppressive now that it’s just the two of them in the car. Eddie shifts in his seat as the car rolls to a stop at the end of the street, waiting for a break in the traffic so he can turn left. The ticking of the indicator sounds too loud for the space, and (to Eddie’s ears) almost like the ticking of a bomb. He shifts again, reaching up to tug at the collar of his shirt.

“Do you want me to drive?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie out of his head.

“No, no, I’m good.” Eddie replies, finally making the turn. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He can feel the tension radiating out from the middle of his forehead where his brow is furrowed in concentration.

“Eddie—.” “Look, I’m—.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip and feels his cheeks flush slightly, which is just pathetic, he tells himself. It has never, never been this awkward between them before, not during the lawsuit, not during his time in dispatch, not even when he’d sprained his ankle that one time during the game of pick-up. Christ, it hadn’t even been awkward when, enroute to the emergency clinic, Tommy had made some half-hearted crack about being a homewrecker and Eddie had ignored the flutter in his gut, laughed it off and told Tommy that Buck was just naturally competitive; he wonders what it was about today that finally tipped the scales. “Uh, sorry, go-go on.” He lifts a hand from the steering wheel and runs it through his hair before he motions for Buck to continue.

“I was going to say,” Buck says slowly, and Eddie can see him fiddling with his phone, can see the way he wakes up the screen like he’s checking for something… the way he had when Tommy had first left and something in Eddie’s gut curdles. “I’m gonna go to the cinema tomorrow, when your parents come around.”

Eddie knows a lie when he hears one, knows when Buck is being less than honest because there’s something in the way he draws out his words; measured, calculating… like he’s rolling them around on his tongue to test their weight and flavor. So the fact that Buck’s actively lying to him right now? He turns into the market near his parents’ and pulls into the first available parking space. 

“Eddie?”

Eddie listens to the ticking of the engine as it starts to cool. He nods, more to himself then to let Buck know he heard. “You—.” Eddie sees Buck’s phone light up with an incoming call, can see the contact photo and he unbuckles his belt and opens the door. “Abuela needs a few things. You should uh, you should probably answer that.” He slides out and shuts the door behind him and heads into the store.

He feels like a real fucking idiot.

He grabs a cart and he’s not even sure what he’s doing, just knows that he needed to get out of the car before he said something he couldn’t take back. Eddie pushes his way through the produce aisle, stopping every few feet to both check the glass sliding doors to see if Buck followed, and to add things to the cart. He startles a little when his phone buzzes in his back pocket, almost sending a display crashing down. 

Buck 💪👨‍🚒

I know Hen and Chim joke about it…

But I’m not actually a Golden Retriever.

Buck 💪👨‍🚒

And if I was, I’d be calling the Humane Society.

Not even a window cracked.

Buck 💪👨‍🚒

We need oatmilk.

Buck 💪👨‍🚒

And Isabel says she wants at least three limes

A couple avocados, and a bunch of radishes.

The messages come in quick succession, and Eddie wonders momentarily, as he doubles back to grab the items his abuela wants, if half of them are just Buck’s attempt at shoe-horning some kind of normalcy back into the day, or if his abuela really did give him a grocery list. As he goes to shove his phone back in his pocket, it rings—just once. A quick flash of Buck’s wide smile, bright blue eyes, and Christopher’s unruly curls from three Christmases ago, and then it’s gone. Eddie sighs, and opens his message thread with Buck and sends back a one-word-one-letter response.

Eddie

K.

He’s feeling petulant and he’s not entirely sure why. Which isn’t exactly true, he knows that he’s annoyed at Buck, it’s the ‘why’ that he’s having trouble with. Eddie isn’t certain if it’s because Buck had gotten annoyed at the idea of them being partners beyond a work setting, or if it’s because all of a sudden Buck’s talking about leaving him alone with his parents and abuela tomorrow, or if it’s the fact that he’s probably out there on the phone to Tommy right now while Eddie’s in this stupid fucking market in the middle of El Paso, searching for the right brand of oatmilk so Buck can have coffee in the morning.

Something in his head whispers that it’s a little bit of a mix of all three.

He wanders through the market, making his way up and down the aisles slowly. He knows that he’s in the way of the mid-afternoon shoppers, but he can’t quite bring himself to care, too busy trying to figure out what the fuck is going on in his head to really pay them any mind. As he wanders, he thinks over the various conversations he’s had throughout the day.

His own grandmother had seemed excited at the prospect of him and Buck being romantically linked, and he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about it at some point; but that… that had been in the abstract… right? 

When Pepa had been setting him up on blind dates following the lightning strike, he’d sat on Buck’s uncomfortable sofa, wedged in between Buck and Christopher, who were both using him as a pillow, he’d had the fleeting thought of how perfect it would be to have that every day: Buck, him, Chris, a decent sofa and left-overs waiting to be put away in the kitchen; there was no need for a performance, no forcing his round-peg self into a triangular-shaped hole. At the time, he’d pressed his lips to Christopher’s head and thought, if he could, he’d take a picture and text it to his aunt, tell her to stop playing matchmaker because he’d figured it out.

But then came Natalia, and Marisol, and Eddie had brushed those thoughts aside because settling down with your best friend was ridiculous, no matter how much the idea settled something in his heart.

Eddie sighs and looks down at his cart, he has a few more things he wants to get. He wants to cook for his family tomorrow—Buck included. He wants to show his parents that whatever picture his mother has built up and held onto of him in her head, is not a true representation of the man he is. He looks up at the aisle he’s about to enter before turning back around and heading to the fresh produce aisle once more, he knows exactly what he wants to cook for lunch tomorrow.

~

Buck sits in the car and watches the doors to the market. He’d been fully prepared to ignore the awkwardness that seemed to be festering between them and go into the market with Eddie,  afterall, Isabel had given him the grocery list over breakfast, but then Tommy had called and Eddie had seen and now… Buck feels like whatever awkwardness had settled between them, that had led to him telling Eddie he was going to make himself scarce during lunch with his parents, is now a chasm he’s probably not going to be able to cross.

He fidgets in his seat and plays with the settings even though he knows Eddie will kill him for doing it. He looks at his phone, reads Eddie’s response to his last series of texts and something cold and worrisome settles behind his ribcage. He debates sending Eddie another joke, but ultimately decides against it. If Eddie’s sending him one-word replies, then perhaps it’s better to just let the awkwardness settle.

Buck drums his fingers on the dash, his stomach flip-flopping as he thinks about the last several weeks. From the moment Eddie told him that he was thinking about moving to Texas, Buck has had to live with the feeling that he’s lost a race he didn’t even know he was participating in. He looks down at his phone again, staring at Eddie’s last message and he can feel the panic rise in his gut like a tide. He wants to go into the store, make Eddie speak to him, but the thought of being too much, too demanding, too needy… too Buck … keeps him rooted to his seat.

He replays the day in his head. Things were fine before they’d gotten to Eddie’s parents house. He would even go so far as to say they were normal . But then Eddie had said… had told him about the confusion Helena seemed to have over the type of partners they were and Buck’s brain had blanked momentarily at the pictures that had conjured up and his face had flushed and…

Buck picks up his cell and presses the call button for the name at the top of the list. It rings once… twice… and half-way through the third ring, his sister’s voice comes down the line.

“Hey, Buck. How’s the packing going?” Maddie’s voice fills Buck with a sense of calm; the antsy feeling that had seen him drumming on the dash and fiddling with the passenger seat settings finally dissipates and he takes a slow, deep breath.

“When you told me that if I had something I needed to tell Eddie, I would. What did you mean?” Buck asks in lieu of a greeting.

There’s a huff of air, and Buck thinks he hears Maddie utter a soft ‘Oh boy’ before he’s barrelling on.

“Because, I-I told Eddie about the… about the whole bisexual thing and sure I was scared, who wouldn’t be, but I think.. I think maybe that…” Buck trails off when he can hear Maddie’s disgruntled hum coming down the line.

He can hear Maddie take a deep breath, hear her murmur something to someone in the background.

“Hi, Maddie, how are you? Thanks for looking in on Christopher and Adrianna - who is a grown woman in her own right - for Eddie and me, we really appreciate it.”

Buck feels the whine in his chest and can’t do anything to stop it. “Maddieeee, c’mon.” He huffs and rolls his eyes when she makes a clicking sound with her tongue and Buck can picture her so clearly in his head. Leaning against the counter, or the wall in her kitchen, arms folded over her chest and one eyebrow raised as she waits on him. 

“ Fine ,” he says, trying to fight the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth. 

“Hi Maddie, how are you? How’s Jee and the Sprout? I’m not asking about Chim, because during our last shift together, he hid my clipboard so I couldn’t do inventory, sooo… I hope he steps on a lego.”

Maddie’s laughter is, as always, rich and warm and he can feel it wrap around him even from hundreds of miles away. “With the amount of duplo that you’ve bought Jee, it’s bound to happen, I’m sure.”

Buck sighs and presses his head back into the headrest of his seat. “Good,” he says through his smile. “But, seriously though, Mads… what did you mean, exactly, when you said that if I had something that I needed to tell Eddie, I would?”

“Oh, Evan.” Maddie’s voice is soft—probably the softest he’s heard it directed towards him in a very, very long time—and he feels like he’s eight years-old, the doctor is wrapping his wrist up and slipping a sling over his neck, and Buck’s talking about the type of pizza he’s going to get with dad this time, because they’ve been working through the menu at Fenicci’s after every dare-devil stunt that lands him in need of first aid. “I think if you’re asking me that question, you already know the answer, baby brother.”

Buck closes his eyes and nods, even though Maddie can’t see him. “And you didn’t think a head’s up might have helped me get there a little faster?”

Maddie hums a non-committal sound, and Buck can hear her fussing about on the other end of the line, can hear Jee playing and chattering away in the background. He’s happy to sit in silence for a little bit, when…

“Wait, did something happen between you and Eddie?” There’s a sound like glass shattering and then a mumbled curse and Maddie’s raising her voice for Jee to stop, step back and wait by the doorway. “Howie!” The name is said with such love and exasperation, that Buck cannot help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest.

There’s silence on the other end of the line and then the sound of shuffling and broken glass being dumped into a trash bag; Buck can hear Maddie and Chim both reassuring Jee and his heart gives a sharp little twist behind his ribs (it’s not that he’s jealous of what Maddie and Chim have, he’s genuinely so glad that they’ve found each other every time they’ve been pulled apart, he just wonders when he’ll have the same thing; when he’ll have a family that wants him in the same way that he wants them).

“Sorry, Buck.” Maddie’s voice is breathless and he can hear a door closing. “Did something happen with you and Eddie?” She asks again and Buck has to swallow against a lump that’s forming in his throat.

“No. God no, Maddie,” Buck finally spits out. He rubs at his eyes when they start stinging. “I, uh, I think… I’m.” Buck sighs, frustrated with himself as he tries to find the right words that don’t give away everything but are enough to get Maddie to help him find a way out of the hole he feels like he’s fallen into.

“You’re in love with Eddie.” Maddie says softly, and her tone is so kind and gentle and hopeful that Buck can’t help it when his breath catches on a silent sob.

“Yeah,” he breathes around the lump in his throat. “But it’s not… He doesn’t, and that’s okay! I just… I think we’re in a fight about it, and I don’t know how to-to rewind time and not stick my foot in it, ya know?”

Maddie’s tone changes dramatically. “You told Edmundo Díaz that you love him, and he got mad at you?” Buck can hear the disbelief in her voice and he chews on his bottom lip before answering her.

“Well, no. Not, not exactly.” Buck stammers. “I guess, his mom apparently was under the impression we were, well, you know, a couple , and Eddie kinda freaked out and okay, so I freaked out too, because, hello. It’s Eddie.” Buck’s heart is hammering inside his chest and he takes a couple of deep breaths to stave off the panic he can feel threatening to flood his body. “But, I guess, the fact that I didn’t…” And the panic takes hold and before he realizes, Buck’s spilling everything that’s happened in the course of six or seven hours to his sister who is twelve hours away.

“And then Tommy rang—.”

“ Tommy rang?” Maddie cuts him off and oh shit does he know that particular tone well enough to be grateful that he’s in El Paso, and not currently being treated to one of her glares face-to-face.

“Yeah, and, I guess… Eddie told me to answer it, and then he stormed off into the market, and now he’s barely responding to my texts and I know that I can be too much, Maddie. But, he seemed so angry, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maddie’s sigh is so heavy over the line that Buck half expects the wind here in El Paso to shift. “Evan,” she says softly. “I love you, but you need to talk to him, and not just assume that he’s mad at you.”

“But—.”

“NO.” Maddie says and Buck can so clearly picture her, lips pursed, shaking her head. “I know that we all joke about the pair of you having some kind of weird… mind meld thing going on, and about you being attached at the hip, but that’s what they are. Jokes.”

“And if sitting down and telling him ruins one of the best friendships I’ve ever had?” Buck asks, his stomach twisting and turning at the anxiety of even thinking about talking to Eddie about his feelings.

“Buck, this is the man who laughed and hugged you after you sprained his ankle during a game of basketball, this is the man who,” Maddie trails off, causing Buck’s brow to furrow. “Put you in his will for Christ’s sake.” Her voice drops to a whisper at that and Buck smiles. “Talk to him, okay? Give him a chance to… I don’t know… actually make an informed decision?”

Buck scrubs at his face and before he can respond, his attention is drawn to the sliding doors of the market and Eddie pushing a cart laden with brown paper bags towards the car.

“And if it doesn’t have a positive ending? What then?” Buck asks.

“ Buck .” The way Maddie draws out his name, tells him exactly what she’s thinking without her having to spell it out.

“Ri-right.” He says, nodding once sharply. At himself, or Maddie, he’s not entirely sure. “I-I gotta go. Give Jee a hug and kiss for me?”

“Always.” Maddie says, and the soft tone that floods him with warmth is back. “I love you, Evan.”

“I love you too,” he replies as the back door opens and Eddie starts loading bags into the car.

~

Eddie takes his time gathering the groceries. He uses the time away from Buck (and Tommy), to not just select the best, freshest ingredients he can find for his abuela and for lunch tomorrow, but to process the reasons behind why he is annoyed with the situation he is currently in, why he is feeling annoyed with Buck .

As he pays for the groceries, he reconciles several things with himself. The first is that, what’s driving a lot of the negative feelings that seem to be simmering just beneath his skin right now, is frustration. Frustration in particular at his mom for running around telling people that Eddie’s in a relationship with a man; which leads, ultimately, into the second thing.

Eddie’s not mad that people—people he loves—think he’s in a relationship with a man (with Buck, his brain supplies, unhelpfully for the nth time). In fact, based on the reactions of his abuela and his father, it’s refreshing to know that it wouldn’t be something that gets him uninvited to thanksgiving. No. What makes him mad is his lack of agency in it all. He’s thirty-three fucking years old, and his mom is still working diligently to get Eddie to fit into some kind of ‘Perfect Son’ mould. She’s done the same thing when he’d told her Shannon was pregnant; the engagement had been handled by Helena, and the wedding, and then the house that he and Shannon had moved into… and he realises that even his choice to join the army had his mother’s fingerprints all over it. She’d left the fliers in his room.

The last time, Eddie thinks as he watches the young kid at the check-out bag up the last of his groceries and set them in the cart, he had made a decision for himself, had had agency over his life, was when he’d packed up his truck and Chris and moved to LA.

He smiles at the cashier and bag-kid before heading back to the car. As he steps out through the sliding glass doors, he can see Buck through the windscreen sitting in the truck, staring at the roof and there’s a slow swooping feeling in his gut. Eddie thinks about the messages that Buck sent through, thinks about his response, and he knows that Buck’s probably been sitting in the car spiraling. He checks his phone as he waits for a car to move past him and sees that Buck hasn’t responded, not even a thumbs-up. Eddie resolves to pull Buck from whatever spiral he’s worked himself into and tucks his phone away.

As he gets closer to the truck, he can see that Buck is still on the phone and whatever swooping, excitable feeling he was experiencing shifts into something less nice, more anxiety driven. Eddie looks down at the cart as he comes to a stop beside the rear-driver’s side door. He can feel Buck’s gaze, which in itself isn’t unusual—they’re always watching each other, one tracking the other’s movements, their steps, it helps them to anticipate their needs while on the job—but this time, there’s something… off… about it that Eddie can’t quite pinpoint.

“I love you too.”

Eddie hears Buck as he opens the door to put the groceries in the car and it takes everything in him to not slam the door closed again and walk away. Instead, he loads the car and walks the cart back to the return in silence; using the seconds in between to calm the violent twisting in his belly. As he gets back in the car, he feels the awkwardness curl back around him and he has to tighten his fist around his keys, the feeling of the metal biting into his palm helps to keep from yelling his frustrations into the space between him and Buck.

“They didn’t have the Califia Farms oat milk,” Eddie says softly as he starts the car. “I grabbed the Silk brand instead.”

“Eddie—.”

“How’s Tommy?” Eddie cuts him off as he does his best to navigate the carpark to get back on the road.

He can’t see Buck’s face (too busy trying to dodge wayward carts and cars that aren’t paying attention), but he can see the way the other man’s body seems to tense from the corner of his eye. He wonders for a moment if he inadvertently put his foot in it. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he waits to pull out into the street.

He can hear Buck scoff and turns his head slightly to see him bite his lip and shake his head. Eddie wants to reach out and place his hand on Buck’s neck, let his thumb fall into the divot of his clavicle and press until he can feel the thrum of his pulse.

“He, uh,” Buck mumbles and fiddles with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I guess I can understand why Karen and Hen aren’t his biggest fans.” He says finally, and Eddie’s brow furrows.

There’s a beep from a car behind him, Eddie lifts his hand in apology and pulls out into the street. He definitely understands why Karen and Hen aren’t waving any Team Tommy pennants any time soon, but he wasn’t aware that Buck also knew why their reaction to Tommy had been mercurial at the best of times. It was only because they’d pulled Eddie aside not long after the medal ceremony to ask if Tommy had said anything to him about Buck prior to their seemingly random coming together that they’d even told him about what Tommy had been like prior to their rescue of Bobby and Athena. 

“He was asking about the tickets to the Lakers and Kings game he gave me before we broke up.” Buck says after a beat or two and the tension Eddie has been feeling ratchets up another notch.

“Oh! He, are you two…” Eddie trails off and waves a hand as he moves into the lane that will take them back to abuela’s.

“Uh, he-he was hoping to use them.” There’s a far-away tone in Buck’s voice, like he’s turning things over in his brain and Eddie wants to kick himself for even asking in the first place.

“I mean, that’s… that’s great, Buck.” Eddie attempts to infuse his tone with excitement for his friend, he’s not entirely sure he’s successful.

Buck hums in response and a silence settles over them and the stop-start of the afternoon traffic in El Paso fills Eddie with the itch to hurry back to his grandmother’s so he can get out of the damn truck and create real space between him and Buck.

“Wait,” Buck says, finally breaking the silence when they’re five minutes out from abuela’s. “What? It’s-it’s great?” Eddie turns his head and can see Buck’s face screwed up like he’s just tasted something bitter. 

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says, turning his eyes back to the road, making the last turn onto the end of his grandmother’s street. “Isn’t it?”

Buck just stares at Eddie as they come to a rolling stop in the driveway. “Eddie,” he says slowly and even as he kills the engine, Eddie prepares himself to be called out for not being genuinely enthusiastic about his best-friend’s love life.

“Eddie, he wanted to use them. With you. He wanted to take you to the game.” When Eddie finally looks at him, Buck is shaking his head, a scowl already in place. “Besides, I told him that I sold them to Rosen from B-shift.”

Eddie feels like someone’s taken to his head with a halligan. He blinks at Buck, and he has a split second thought that Buck’s fucking with him in some kind of way to get back at him for dropping the ‘My Mom Thinks We’re A Couple’ bomb on him earlier. He wants to ask for clarification, because Buck had been very much standing right beside him when Chim, Hen and Bobby and himself had all jokingly declared that Buck had gotten them in the divorce, and Eddie knew that the four of them had all taken turns in approaching Buck later and letting him know that, jokes aside and whatever amicable decisions Buck and Tommy had come to, they were Buck’s family first and foremost and Tommy was just someone they had worked with once upon a time.

In fact, Eddie opens his mouth to do just that and remind Buck that he wouldn’t even answer if Tommy called, but what comes out instead is:

“You sold the tickets to Rosen?”

And really? Someone should just have him committed already. Eddie wants to hit his head against the steering wheel.

~

Buck can’t process… anything at this point. Well, he can’t process this . His gaze is locked on Eddie, specifically Eddie’s face, when he tells him what Tommy wanted.

“That-that’s what you took away from this?” Buck asks, incredulous at the idea of Eddie being upset at Rosen getting the tickets. When all Eddie does is look at him expectantly, Buck laughs, but even he can hear that it’s hollow.

“What?” Eddie asks, defensively. “I just…” He trails off and Buck follows his gaze toward the house, waves at Isabel when she appears at the door before turning and disappearing back into the house.

“You wanted to go to the basketball?” Buck’s heart and gut are twisting and lurching something fierce, and he’s unsure if he wants to vomit, or get out of the car and run. 

“Well… yeah.” Eddie says slowly and Buck can see him turning everything over in his head. “Not—not with Tommy,” he finally says, and the relief slams into Buck with the force of a speeding truck. “God, no! Jesus, Buck. I–I’m yours, you know that. I just thought we could go.”

Buck’s breath freezes in his lungs when Eddie says ‘I’m yours’. His entire existence narrows to a point so fine, he’s sure it could squeeze onto the head of a pin. “I’m.. You’re…”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie barrels on. “We told you after the break up, that you got the 118 A-Shift in the divorce. I just thought, you know… and I know you don’t like basketball, but I thought it-it could be fun.”

“Oh,” Buck says softly, and he falls back against his seat. He remembers that shift, two days after showing up at Eddie’s front door, six-pack in hand, when he’d come clean and told the others about the break-up and they’d all made it very clear that they were taking Buck’s side. Disappointment settles low in his belly and whatever he’d been thinking— hoping —is buried beneath it.

Buck looks over at Eddie. “Well, n-now that Chris is home, you guys can go.” When Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion, Buck laughs, and it feels a little more genuine this time. “I didn’t actually give the tickets to Rosen, well… not those tickets anyway. I uh, I gave her some tickets to the aquarium, her nieces are coming in from Wyoming, I think… anyway. Yeah. I uh, I still have the game tickets.”

Buck casts a quick look toward the house, he can feel Eddie’s gaze boring into the side of his head and he does his best to ignore it, because if he doesn’t…

If he doesn’t, he’s not entirely certain what will come out of his mouth, and he refuses to ruin the most stable relationship he has outside of Bobby, Hen, and Maddie. Buck rubs at his face and takes a deep breath. 

“Look, Eddie,” he says softly, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on his jeans. “I-I’m sorry if I upset you about not being around tomorrow during lunch. I just…” he sighs and tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to keep from fidgeting. He wants and needs to do something about the awkwardness that has wormed its way around them and he knows if he doesn’t do something about it now, it’ll just fester.

Eddie groans and Buck can see as he turns away, banging his head against the headrest. “I get it, Buck. You don’t have to,” he waves his hand around between them and Buck wants to grab it, curl his own around it and keep it safe. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You’re my best friend,” he says slowly, like if he enunciates every word carefully, it’ll sink into Eddie’s skull that there isn’t anything Buck wouldn’t do for the man and his son. “I just, I didn’t think it would make the situation better if you had to sit there and pretend, or-or if your mom had to sit there and think we were…you know…” Buck shrugs. “But, I’ll stay. Maybe I can cook something?” In his head, Buck is already planning a menu that he hopes will win over Helena Díaz and make her realize that Christopher (and by extension, Eddie) has everything he could possibly ever need back in LA.

Eddie’s hand reaches out then and lands on Buck’s knee and squeezes, causing all thought to come to a crashing, grinding halt. Buck looks between the hand that’s engulfed his kneecap, and the kind, brown eyes that seem to shine with, he thinks maybe, relief.

“Thank you,” Eddie says so softly, that if Buck wasn’t looking at him, he would have missed it completely. 

Buck shakes his head and waves away Eddie’s gratitude. “Eds, you don’t have to thank me. I just, I have your back, always, and I only thought, maybe the, uh, best way to have your back this time, was to take a step back. This is a—a family thing. A Díaz-family thing. I don’t want to make it worse, but if you think that me being there is okay, is-is what you need to come out the other side, then I’ll be there.”

When Eddie’s face scrunches up in what Buck likes to call his ‘Deep Thought Face’, he wonders what’s going on inside Eddie’s head as his gaze drifts back down to the hand that’s still splayed across his knee. It’s not that Eddie’s never touched him before, they’re both big on physical touch to ground them in whatever moment might need it, but it is the first time that Eddie’s touched him after Buck’s acknowledge out loud (even if only to himself and Maddie) that his feelings for Eddie are far, far from the platonic mess they initially started out as.

“Buck,” Eddie’s sigh fills the cabin of the truck. “When are you going to realize that you are family? Chris, abuela, Pepa, me… you’re family and you belong at that table tomorrow just as much—if not more than—my parents.”

Buck is blown away at the level of conviction in Eddie’s voice, so taken aback by it, that he barely has a moment to mourn the loss of the hand on his knee. He opens his mouth to correct Eddie on belonging in a discussion about Christopher, Eddie, and whatever transpired over the last few months.

“Don’t argue, Buck, just… just accept it for what it is and as for lunch, don’t worry. I have that already planned out.”

“Well then, I guess I definitely have to stick around now if you’re cooking lunch. Can’t have your parents claiming you tried to poison them on top of thinking you tried to kidnap Chris.” Buck teases, a grin forming wide across his face when Eddie throws his head back and laughs.

Eddie hitches his thumb toward the back seat. “You’re such an asshole. Now, c’mon and help me get that inside, or there’ll be no pozole for you tonight.”

Buck feigns shock at the idea of no pozole. “Isabel would never ,” he says, only half jokingly, already reaching for the door handle.

~

Eddie is going to pass out.

Eddie is going to pass out and his parents—his mom—are going to see this as one more reason for Christopher and Eddie to both be back in El Paso.

He can’t do more time in El Paso, he thinks to himself as he presses his face against the cool stainless steel of his abuela’s refrigerator, he’d rather spend a lifetime in dispatch getting scolded by Josh.

“Eddie,” Buck’s voice filters through the panic and Eddie can feel the steady weight of Buck’s hand on his shoulder. “Breathe, man. It’s, you’ve–you’ve got this.”

Eddie takes a deep breath, holds it in his lungs as he thinks about jello, until the racing behind his ribcage and the fizzing of his blood settles. He hates this. He hates that he can’t do something as simple as cook for his family, for his parents, without being reduced to a frayed edge. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s said that last part out loud until…

“You’re allowed to be nervous, or-or anxious, Eds.” Buck says softly, the hand on Eddie’s shoulder squeezes. “But you also need to tell yourself that Chris belongs with you, where-wherever that is, and uh, that you both deserve to be happy.”

Eddie stands up straight and turns until he can wrap his arms around Buck’s chest. He’s not completely in his own head that he didn’t hear the uncertainty in the other man’s tone and he hates that he’s responsible for adding to Buck’s fear of being alone.

“Oh, we’re definitely staying in LA,” Eddie says, ignoring Buck’s squawk of surprise at the hug. “Just now, in my head, I compared being in El Paso to being in prison.” He can feel Buck’s breath of laughter against the side of his neck and it sends a frisson of electricity down his spine which awakens a fluttering in his gut.

The sound of the front door swinging open and his grandmother’s voice calling out a greeting turns the gentle fluttering into something akin to a swarm and he quickly pulls away from Buck, wiping his sweaty palms across the denim of his jeans. Eddie pretends he doesn’t see the confused frown on Buck’s face before he turns back to the fridge to grab the last few ingredients for lunch.

“It uh,” Buck begins, and Eddie doesn’t have to have eyes on him, to know that he’s looking between the kitchen door and him and rubbing at the back of his neck. “It smells good, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles as he shuts the door. “Well, smell is one thing,” he says as he holds up a jar of capers. “Maybe reserve your judgement until you’ve tasted it?” He raises an eyebrow and shoos Buck toward the kitchen door. “It’s almost ready, ten-fifteen minutes tops. Maybe you could go out and help abuela set the table? Maybe help keep my parents occupied until it’s ready?”

Buck nods in the affirmative and disappears through the door with a tight smile. As it swings shut behind him, Eddie can hear Buck greet his parents, all smiles and good cheer and none of the uncertainty that had been in his voice only moments ago.

☆

Eddie sets the last plate down on the table, a platter of roasted green beans with garlic and butter. He looks over the lunch he’s so meticulously curated for his family — for Buck , a little voice in his head whispers — and feels something kick behind his ribs.

“Lunch is up!” He calls out to the living room where he can hear Buck telling Ramon about the Bee Incident and Athena’s landing of the plane.

Abuela is the first one into the dining room and Eddie can feel the flush on his cheeks as she beams at him and curls an arm around his waist as she moves to take her seat at the head of the table.

“Isabel, you’ve outdone yourself.” Helena says as she sits down at the far end of the table.

Eddie can see the way Buck’s brow furrows, the way his jaw twitches as he goes to say something but then swallows it back when Eddie catches his eye and shakes his head imperceptibly. 

“Don’t be silly, Helena,” Isabel says softly before reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek. He leans into the touch, warmth flooding his belly at the way she stands up for him. “I’ve been with you this entire time. Edmundo is today’s chef.”

The satisfaction that settles in Eddie’s chest, sours slightly when he turns to look at his mom and sees her grimace as she reaches for the pitcher of iced tea. He thinks he’s done his best to school the disappointment at her reaction, but, clearly it isn’t enough because Buck is jostling the table as he takes a seat across from Eddie and gasps.

“You made chicken piccata and roasted green beans?” He does a little wriggle in his seat, apologizing when he knocks abuela’s glass. “Oh man, Chris is gonna be so jealous!” 

The feeling of satisfaction returns and this time, brings with it butterflies once again. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You make it sound like I don’t cook for Christopher at all.”

Eddie’s gaze has been following the platters as they make their way around, so he sees when Buck looks over at him, that stupid eyebrow quirked up in disbelief and Eddie is struck by how beloved Buck is to him. He smirks as Buck shakes his head and continues to pile green beans onto his plate before passing them to Ramon. 

“I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve made Linda’s chicken piccata, and still have fingers left over.”

“Linda’s?” His mother asks from the end of the dining table and of course that’s what she picks up on. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes, thinks if he does, he’d be able to shake hands with the chaos gremlin that feeds on this kind of family drama.

Buck nods, and Eddie isn’t quite sure if he’s genuinely oblivious to the tone in his mom’s voice, or is committing to the bit. “Yeah, Eddie worked with her at dispatch a couple of years ago after the…” he makes a gesture towards his wn left shoulder, and Eddie can see him visibly swallow.

After that, lunch becomes a somewhat quiet affair, with conversation never really drifting from work (Eddie and Buck) and the life of a retiree (Ramon). Eddie can feel his mother’s shrewd gaze on him and Buck, wonders momentarily what it is that she sees when she watches them like that, which leads to him wondering what others see when they watch them. He knows that his abuela sees two people who love each other—and she isn’t wrong. He loves Buck, and he knows that Buck loves him, it’s just… Eddie knows that if he were to map it out using a venn diagram, there’d be no overlap.

“Buck was telling us about the bee swarm from a few months ago.” Ramon says softly, pulling Eddie’s gaze from Buck as he’s trading cookie recipes with his grandmother.

Eddie shudders but nods his head. “Yeah, it was… an experience I’m not sure I’ll ever forget any time soon.”

Ramon chuckles. “He said they sprayed you down with perfume and made you run around to distract the bees? Did it make the news? Is there a film where we can see these Hollywood heroics?” 

Eddie huffs a quick breath–not quite a laugh–before shaking his head. “Not unless someone was filming from inside the safety of the event venue… We were all too busy, Chim and Hen in the pool getting to the patient, and me distracting the bees, so, no, no video. Thank God.” 

The way his father’s eyes are sparkling, however, creates a sinking feeling in the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

“Wait…” Eddie looks between his father and Buck, the latter is ignoring him way too much for it to be anything other than an attempt at playing innocent and the former is already patting his breast pocket where his phone sits comfortably.

“I’m sure your sister, Sophia, will appreciate seeing this for her next birthday.” Ramon’s grin is wide and bright and Eddie is…

Eddie is floored. He wants to say he isn’t surprised that one of the 118 has video footage of that day, but, in all honesty, when Gerrard had been in charge, the teasing and friendly prank warfare had all but stopped when on shift.

“You jerk!” Eddie laughs and scrunches up his napkin and goes to toss it at Buck who can no longer contain his grin or his laughter. 

“Hey, I haven’t sent it to Chris… Yet.” Buck says, even as he pulls his phone from his pocket to show Isabel.

Eddie shakes his head and turns to face his parents. “You think that’s bad, wait until I tell you about what happened on Halloween.” Eddie ignores Buck’s sputtering and laughs when his napkin is thrown back at him, landing on his shoulder, the mood around the table the lightest it has been since everyone sat down.

Naturally, that’s when the shit hits the fan.

“So you’re a homosexual now?” Helena’s voice is odd, almost cold from where she sits at the end of the table.

The jovial atmosphere comes to a grinding halt and Eddie looks down at his plate, swallowing down the sharp anger that seems to have carved out a place in the back of his throat, if the painful ache is anything to go by. He can hear his father whispering for his mother to stop, that this isn’t the time or the place. He can feel his grandmother’s warm hand work its way under his, squeezing reassurance into his body with her firm grip. It’s Buck’s voice, however, that manages to soothe the ache the anger leaves behind.

“Uh, n-no. I’m bi-sexual,” he says, stumbling over his words, and Eddie doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s turning a shade of pink that makes his birthmark turn a deeper shade of raspberry pink. “Eddie’s, he-he’s not—.”

“Not now, mom,” Eddie says softly, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders before meeting her gaze. “Always. I’ve always been, I just… didn’t realise that it was okay to be that, to be honest to myself, until I sat down with a therapist and talked about Shannon, and Kim, and everything in between.”

There is a chorus of indrawn breaths and his abuela’s hand tightens in his and Eddie blinks to clear the sting of tears from his eyes.

“So you are in a relationship with Buck, then?” 

Eddie tilts his head and watches his mom. He wonders when she became so… he doesn’t want to use the word mean, but it’s close. He wonders when she became so…

Hurtful?

Cynical?

Detached?

“I, uh, I’m not in a relationship with Buck. Not, not like the one you’re implying.” Eddie says simply, already resigning himself to the growing chasm between him and his mom. He thinks it’s funny in a way, that, if he’d been brave enough three years ago to be as open and honest with himself—with others—as he is now, he’d have put money on it being his dad who was resistant. Now? Now he just thinks it’s cruel that he heals the rift with his father, only to open another one with his mother.

“So, what, you’ve just been lying to us about who you are, what you are, this whole time?” His mother shakes her head, and Eddie feels exhausted.

“To myself, mom, don’t forget that.” Eddie says as he slumps back in his chair. He doesn’t want to fight, not with her, and definitely not with himself.

“And what about you?” Her tone is sharp as she directs her next lot of questions towards Buck. “He says you’re his partner, but how can you trust someone who’s been lying to you for the last eight years?”

For the first time since his mom started talking, Eddie realises that he hasn’t seen or heard Buck. He hasn’t been focused on the other man, couldn’t be focused on the other man. Eddie hasn’t wanted to see the upset or disappointment in Buck’s face. Coming out like this was not something that was intentional, he’d wanted to wait. He wanted to talk to Chris about it and visit this new information together in a family therapy session. 

He wanted an opportunity to talk with Chris about where Shannon sat in all of this.

He hopes that maybe he still can.

Eddie turns his gaze to Buck, can see his overly bright blue eyes, and worry gnaws at Eddie’s stomach.

“H-he is my work partner,” Buck says softly, casting a quick look at Helena before dipping his head to make steady eye-contact with Eddie, and Eddie wonders if this is what a coyote feels like when it’s caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

Eddie can see Buck smile the moment their eyes meet and lock.

“And this? This doesn’t change anything.”