Archive of Our Own

El Paso, Texas was just about the last place Eddie wanted to be.

When he moved to LA he thought he was done, that he was finally free of the city that felt like being trapped, like being sent to his room for not being ‘man enough’ as a kid, like standing at the altar looking at a woman he loved so much but not like that–

But Christopher was in El Paso. Wherever Chris went, he would follow. Even if it meant leaving behind the only real family he had ever known to return to the mockery of a family he had grown up in.

Pulling into his parents’ driveway was bittersweet, the excitement to see Christopher in person again warring with the dread of dealing with his parents.

Anything was worth it to see Christopher.

With that in mind, Eddie hopped out of his truck, glancing at the two cookies left in the bag on his passenger seat before deciding to leave those for later. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to see Christopher today. There was a good chance he wasn’t home, and even if he was, Eddie was aware that his parents may try to keep him from seeing his son.

Determined to at least try, Eddie jogged up the front path, pressing the doorbell. His eyes closed as he took in the familiar sound, memories washing over him. Before he could get swept away, the door swung open, his father’s confused face on the other side.

“Eddie? What are you doing here, son?” he asked, his mouth pinching into a line.

“I’m here to make things right,” Eddie said firmly, craning his neck to look over Ramon’s shoulder. “Where’s my son?”

His mother appeared in the hall instead, her arms crossed. “Eddie!” she exclaimed as she caught sight of him, a plastic smile spreading across her face. “What a surprise!”

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Eddie said, smiling tensely, “didn’t want to risk you going on a sudden trip.”

He stepped past his father, eyes taking in the hallway. It was different than he remembered– the dent from where he ran into the wall as a kid patched, the crayon scribbles from Adrianna painted over, the plants that grew by the window gone, replaced by fake ones. It felt lifeless, like something in a magazine.

“I don’t like your implication,” Ramon said, sighing as he closed the door behind Eddie.

“I don’t like your actions,” Eddie countered.

“Christopher isn’t here tonight,” Helena cut in, “we allow him a sleepover at a friend’s house every other Saturday.”

Eddie shook his head, frustrated. “That’s fine. I’ll come back tomorrow. For now, it would be good to talk to the two of you.”

“Is there something we need to catch up on?” Ramon asked, false pleasantry laced throughout his voice, “Are you seeing someone new so soon after that whole fiasco?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie leaned back against one of the walls, his arms crossing on his chest. “No, I am not. I’ve been a bit more focused on trying to rebuild a relationship with my son– not that the two of you seem keen to help.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Helena asked, wrinkling her nose at him.

“It means that we have scheduled calls– I get to talk to Chris once a week, and yet somehow he gets interrupted five minutes in every time. You know when the calls are, he knows when the calls are, but we have yet to finish a single one because something always comes up.” Eddie shook his head, trying to stave off the irritation building within him. “Am I meant to believe that’s an accident?”

Helena and Ramon made eye contact, clearly having some sort of silent conversation as if Eddie wasn’t standing right in front of them. His mother finally patted her husband’s arm, stepping forward. “We just want to make sure he grows up with good, stable influences,” she said soothingly, as if she wasn’t taking a knife and cutting deep into Eddie with every word.

He had spent years overcoming his problems, accepting that while he wasn’t perfect, he was good enough and, what– they disagreed? Just like that, they were giving up on their son, shifting their attention to the next in the line of Diazes.

“You don’t like the way I turned out, and I– I get that, okay?” Eddie said eventually, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t really either, but my son is not your do-over! He’s a kid, my kid, not your chance for redemption.”

Good, stable influences. Yeah, right. His parents hadn’t exactly influenced his childhood very well, why the hell would he leave his son with them?

He stepped back from them, turning to pace the length of the living room. “ I don’t understand you two. I always thought ‘oh, when I get older I’ll get it,’ but I don’t. I’ve fucked up, I know that. I do. But if– if Christopher made a mistake, no matter what it was, I would help him. I wouldn’t take the– the most important thing in his entire life states away from him and leave him all alone to try to pick up the pieces!” 

Shaking his head, Eddie finally skidded to a stop, turning to point at his parents, “I just– I’m no saint, but I don’t understand how you two can stand to look at yourselves knowing what you’ve done.”

“It’s for Christopher’s good.” Helena declared, her chin raised, somehow managing to look down at Eddie despite their height difference.

“No, it’s for your good. For your– your friends that want to hear about your perfect little family, for your reputation– so much easier to talk about your lovely grandson who is in chess club and swim team than your fuck up of a son who can’t keep a girlfriend and moved states away the first chance he got.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that.” Ramon said lowly, stepping towards him.

“I’ll speak to her how I damn well please, Ramon. I’m not going to go as far as y’all have, at least. You’ve been waiting for your chance to take Christopher away from me from the moment Shannon left.”

“It’s better for–”

“Better for who? We were doing fine–”

“You traumatized the poor boy!”

“I didn’t ask Kim to show up like that! In fact, I asked her to leave and she refused!”

“Not just that! You got shot, you left him with a man who nearly lost him in a tsunami, you–”

“Don’t talk about Buck,” Eddie growled, a flash of anger finally breaking through.

“We have to at some point! Christopher talks about him so much it almost had us worried– we were starting to wonder if you were cheating on Marisol with more than just that woman.”

Eddie was silent for a few moments, staring blankly at his parents. “You know,” he said eventually, voice carefully even, “Christopher had a bit of a problem last year. He was talking to five different girls at the same time. He didn’t really think about what he was doing, so I sat him down. I actually had Buck sit him down, too. We managed to work out the actual issue, and it wasn’t that he was a bad person– obviously– it was that he thought they would all leave anyway.”

He paused, making eye contact with both of his parents, taking in their confused faces. “He was doing something bad, but it wasn’t because he was bad– and I never thought it was. You always– anytime I do something you don’t like, you assume it’s because I’m horrible, a failure, a disappointment. And I’m tired of trying to convince you that I’m not. I’ve been trying my whole life, and I– I can’t do it anymore, not when it’s obviously not going to work.”

“Dad?”

Of course they had lied about that, too.

Christopher’s voice was small, smaller than he had heard it in years. Eddie shoved past his parents to get to him, ignoring the way they seemed frozen in place.

“Hey, bud,” he said softly, collapsing to his knees in front of Chris, making himself shorter than him. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment Eddie was concerned that the surprise would wear off, that Christopher would go back to giving him the cold shoulder, but then–

“Were you– are you okay?” Chris’ eyes flickered away from Eddie and over to his parents as he spoke, and Eddie allowed himself to close his eyes, block out the feelings for a moment.

“Yeah, Chris,” he murmured, holding out his arms and breathing a silent sigh of relief as Christopher fell into them, “I am now.”

There was a discontented huff from behind him, and Eddie craned his head back to see his mother– to see Helena staring at them with her arms crossed, one foot tapping on the ground. “He’s not going back with you,” she insisted, a steely look in her eyes.

Eddie winced, pulling back from the hug with Christopher to smile at his son shakily. “That’s okay,” he said, looking Chris in the eyes, “I’m staying. For as long as he needs.”

“What do you mean, staying?” Christopher asked, his eyes narrowed.

Standing back up, Eddie looked back towards his parents, hopeful despite himself that they may leave to let him have a private conversation with his son. Obviously, they did no such thing.

“I put a downpayment on a house,” he said slowly, carefully, “I’m tired of being away from you. If you want to live here, with your grandparents– that’s okay. But I’m going to be in El Paso too, and you’re going to see me at least twice a week.”

“You have no right–” Helena started behind him, her voice furious.

“What about the house in LA,” Christopher cut in, his eyebrows scrunching together, “I want to go home eventually, I don’t– can we not go back?” His voice was shaking by the end, and Eddie was quick to reach out and grab his shoulder reassuringly. “We can,” he promised, “Buck took over my lease, so– whenever you’re ready, we can go home.”

“He is not ready!” Helena insisted, stomping forward to shove herself between them.

Eddie took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm himself. “That’s his choice, Helena.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned back to Christopher. “It’s your choice. Listen, I just wanted to come say hi, I still need to get settled into my house– maybe I can come pick you up tomorrow if you don’t have plans? Buck found your favorite shirt, it’s in a box in your room.”

“Yeah!” Christopher responded, seeming genuinely excited about the prospect of spending time with Eddie. Or maybe he just wanted his favorite shirt back.

“Again with Buck…” came Ramon’s muttered voice behind him, and Eddie turned slightly to shoot a glare at the man.

With one final smile at Christopher, he left the house he grew up in, his parents watching him silently, judgingly, just like they had seven years ago when he moved to LA.

His new place was… fine. Really it could be worse, but he had become so accustomed to the house on South Bedford Street that anything else felt abnormal. An empty home, covered in boxes, no sounds of laughter in the halls– it wasn’t right.

He needed something to fill the silence, something to make the house feel more like home.

After an encounter with his parents, there was really only one person he wanted to talk to. Eddie pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing absently as he searched for a box cutter, wanting to get some unpacking done. Most of the furniture was put in place by the movers, but he needed to get Christopher’s room semi in order if he was going to have the boy over the next day.

“Eddie?”

Bobby’s voice was concerned, which was understandable. They texted semi-regularly, but Eddie wasn’t really one to make calls out of the blue.

“Hey, Cap,” he said softly, finally finding his box cutter and getting to work on opening some of the boxes in the room he had set aside for Christopher, with the deep blue walls and cloud mural already painted on the wall from the previous owners. “I need some advice.”

“Alright,” Bobby said easily, “I can do that. What’s up?”

“Bobby, I don’t really know what I’m doing here,” Eddie confessed, dropping down to sit on the edge of Christopher’s bed.

“Getting your son back,” Bobby said, his tone neutral.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie flopped onto his back, one arm settling above his head while the other held the phone to his ear. “Yes, Bobby, I know that– I meant I don’t know how to go about getting him back.”

“It’s the first day, Eddie,” Bobby reminded him, “were you expecting him to hop in your truck and demand you drive right back to LA?”

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Well…”

Bobby huffed out a quiet laugh, static coming through the phone as he adjusted the way he was holding it. “Have you hit an obstacle with Christopher already?”

“Not with Christopher,” Eddie said slowly, his eyes unfocusing as he stared up at the ceiling, replaying the conversation from earlier in his head, “with my parents. They’re– well, ever since Shannon they’ve treated me– I don’t know. They were never really proud of me, when I was a kid. And when Shannon got pregnant– it’s like they stopped pretending to be? And now– now it feels like I’m just an obstacle to them, keeping them from taking my son away.”

There was a beat before Bobby spoke again, where Eddie could picture his captain’s thoughtful face. “You know they have no legal rights here, right?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, sitting back up. “Well, yeah, but– Christopher should be able to choose.”

“I agree, don’t get me wrong,” Bobby said quickly, “but at some point you should look at why Christopher is making this decision. Is he really still mad at you, or are your parents convincing him to stay with them?”

Huh.

Christopher hadn’t actually… seemed very mad at him, now that Eddie thought about it. Not earlier that day, anyway. The past few months, absolutely, he had been pissed, but now that Eddie thought about it–

Their last few conversations had been less frosty, and more unsure. Like Christopher was being careful what he said. Originally Eddie had assumed it was just awkwardness as they started to rebuild their bond, but what if it wasn’t?

“You think they’re– what, trying to turn my kid against me?”

“Would you put it past them?”

No. No he would not.

Seeing Christopher the next day was somehow better than Eddie had allowed himself to hope for.

His son was waiting on the front stoop of his grandparents’ house when Eddie came to pick him up, and Eddie could not have been more grateful to avoid seeing his parents. Christopher opened the passenger door, a cautious smile already on his face.

“Hey, bud,” Eddie said softly, watching as Christopher got himself situated, hardly able to believe how much taller Chris was than the last time he had been in Eddie’s truck.

“Hey,” Christopher replied, tone snarky but not harsh.

Eddie put the truck into reverse, backing out of his parent’s driveway for the second time in as many days, the relief of it buoyed by his son’s presence. “You ready to see your room?”

“You didn’t have to make me a room,” Christopher said, sounding unsure.

“Of course I did,” Eddie said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road, “you’re my– you’re the most important person in my life, Chris. I want you to feel comfortable at my house, so you’re going to have your own room. If you’re over and you want some distance but you don’t want to go back to your grandparents’ house, you can go there. I’ll never come in without permission.”

Chris hummed softly, clearly thinking it over. “So I can– if I come over for the day, I could spend the entire time in there and you wouldn’t mind?”

Slowing to a stop at a red light, Eddie turned to look at him. “I would mind,” he said truthfully, “but I wouldn’t stop you. It would hurt, but– if you’re happy, if you’re comfortable, it’s worth it.”

Christopher nodded slowly, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “That… that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked hopefully, flexing his hands on the steering wheel, turning his gaze forward again at a honking from behind him, pressing on the gas.

“Yeah.”

They arrived at Eddie’s new house pretty quickly. After all, he had chosen it more based on proximity to his parents’ house and Christopher’s school than anything else. 

With the truck finally in park, he turned to take in Chris’ reaction. And it was– something.

“You live… here?” he asked, his nose scrunched.

“I do.”

“It’s so… sad,” Chris said, gaze flicking around the outside of the house.

Eddie turned back to the house, trying to see it through the eyes of someone who wasn’t desperate for anywhere to live regardless of its appearance. And… yeah. It was dingy: a yard full of dirt, the walls covered in layers of grime, the bushes all overgrown, patches of roof that could probably use replacing, but–

“I just needed to be nearby.”

Wordlessly, Christopher got out of the truck, grabbing his crutches from the backseat and heading down the front path. Eddie followed behind him, taking in just how much his son had grown in their time apart. He was confident on the dirt path, noticeable growth in his shoulders from his swim team, a confidence in the way he carried himself that hadn’t been there before.

As awful as Texas was for Eddie, maybe it was good for Chris.

Or maybe– maybe being away from Eddie was what was good for him.

Shaking his head, Eddie tried to banish the thought. He had managed to arrange virtual visits with Frank for his time in Texas, and he made a note to bring that up at their next appointment.

“The inside is better, I promise,” he said eventually, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door. He swung it open with a flourish, gesturing for Christopher to enter ahead of him and watching as he took in all the furniture, their furniture, strewn throughout the house.

“Dad?” Chris asked, his voice small, “if Buck is living in the house, does he not have a couch again?”

Eddie snorted, dropping onto the couch in question and patting the cushion beside him. “He has his own couch, Chris. He didn’t need this one.”

“But he likes this one,” Christopher said, pouting dramatically.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie stood back up, gesturing for Christopher to follow him. “Come on. Let me show you your room. Your favorite shirt and some protein cookies are waiting in there courtesy of Buck.”

“Protein cookies?” Chris asked, his nose crinkled in disgust.

“They’re better than they sound, I promise.”

Without another word, Eddie pulled open the first door on the right, stepping back to let Chris see into his room. He had finished unpacking after his call with Bobby, carefully placing every item of Christopher’s into their rightful places, trying to make it look as much like his room at home as possible. The only change was a string of lights shaped like stars that Buck had bought, draped along the top of the wall covered in the cloud mural.

“Wow,” Christopher murmured, stepping further into the room and looking around, “you weren’t kidding. It does look better on the inside.”

Eddie grinned, standing in the doorway and watching his son explore the room. “I left your shirt and Buck’s cookies on the bed, but everything else should be put away. Feel free to rearrange as much as you want, I just didn’t want you to come home to a room full of boxes.”

Wincing a bit at the usage of the word home, Eddie patiently awaited a response.

“It looks like my room at home,” Chris said eventually, running a careful hand over his nightstand, pausing to flick through the book there. It was one Buck had gotten him in LA, something about different types of stars. Buck had been spending a lot of time researching books that were more grown up, more appropriate for Christopher’s rapidly increasing reading level, but still related to subjects he liked. 

Smiling softly, Eddie nodded. “I thought you might like something familiar. I know it’s a bit of a shock, me moving here. I hope I didn’t… make you uncomfortable.”

Christopher turned, looking him up and down, evaluating the way he was still in the doorframe. “I missed you,” he said, smiling back, “I don’t think I really noticed how much until you were here, but I did miss you, Dad.”

And that… Eddie would stay in Texas forever if it meant hearing that from his son every day. Anything was worth this.

“So? How did it go?” Buck’s eager voice filtered through Eddie’s tinny phone speaker, the phone lying on his countertop as he unpacked in the kitchen.

“Good, I think?” Eddie responded as confidently as he could, shuffling around the plates in one of his cabinets. If he could just fit the bowls in there too–

“Did he like the cookies?”

Eddie winced, closing the cabinet door and turning to the one beside it. Maybe the bowls would fit with the cups? “Uhh… yeah! He loved them!”

Laughter rang over the speakers, the sound of Buck slapping a hand over his face to muffle it quickly following. “You don’t have to lie to me, man. I promise I’ll only be a little offended if he hated them.”

“He refused to touch them on the basis that they are protein cookies, which means they must taste bad.”

“They do not!” Buck replied immediately, scandalized. “You must have eaten some of them, why didn’t you tell him they were good!”

“Uhhh…”

“Dad, there’s no way they’re good!”

“They are! I ate like a dozen of them on the drive here!”

“You eat everything Buck makes ‘cause you don’t like the sad face he makes when you don’t like his food. Your opinion doesn’t count!”

“Not sure he believed me.”

“Damn,” Buck huffed, “I knew I should have made a separate batch for him.”

Warmth grew in Eddie’s chest at the reminder of just how much his best friend loved his son, the feeling causing his hands to shake so much he had to put down the cups he was rearranging.

“How are you settling in?” he asked, needing the conversation to shift away so he could get his heartbeat back under control.

“Alright. I, uh, have been spending most of my nights at Maddie’s. That’s where I am now, actually.”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together, his hands stilling where they had been emptying utensils into a drawer. “Why’s that? Is she doing alright?”

“Yeah!” Buck said quickly, “I think I just… need to see it with my own eyes, you know? Besides, it’s weird being in your house alone.”

“It’s your house now, Buck,” Eddie reminded him gently, smiling down at the forks in his drawer.

“I know! I just– it’s so quiet. Obviously I’ve been here alone before, but I usually know that you or Christopher will be walking in soon, and– I don’t know, Eddie.”

The smile faded from Eddie’s face, his hands raising to run through his hair. “I miss you too, Buck. We’ll be home as soon as we can be.”

“I know,” Buck murmured, sighing into the phone, “I know you don’t want to be there, either. I just miss you. Both of you.”

Desperate to dissipate the strange melancholy that had fallen over them, Eddie grabbed his phone. “Hey, how about I text Chris? Maybe he can come over later this week and we can get on facetime.”

Not waiting for a response, Eddie tabbed over to his messages, tapping out a quick one to send to Chris.

Hey, Christopher. Want to come by on Friday after school?

“Yeah! That would be great, I can show him this new–” Buck cut himself off as Eddie’s phone vibrated, probably able to hear it in the call.

Eddie swiped back to his messages, and–

no.

Oh.

“He, uh– he said no?” Eddie said slowly, squinting down at his phone as if it would make the word change.

“I thought you said it went well?” Buck responded, sounding just as mystified as Eddie felt.

“It did go well.”

That’s alright. Is there another day you would prefer?

1. stop asking.

And that– okay.

“Buck, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Wait, Eddie–!”

Not waiting to hear the rest of that, Eddie hung up quickly, tabbing back into his contacts and pressing the little green button next to Bobby’s name aggressively.

“Bobby Nash speaking.”

“Bobby,” Eddie gasped out, sinking to the floor.

“Woah, Eddie, what’s going on?” Bobby sounded alert, concerned– ready.

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as they caught on his fingers. “I– Christopher doesn’t want to see me again, I don’t think.”

“What?” Bobby asked, confused, “I thought– you said it went well!”

“I thought it did!” Eddie exclaimed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stave off the tears he could feel building. “I asked him if he would want to come by on Friday, and he said no. I figured maybe, you know, he was just busy Friday so I asked if he would prefer another day, and he said– he said “no. Stop asking.’ I mean– how else am I supposed to take that, Bobby?”

For a moment, Eddie wasn’t sure if Bobby was going to respond at all, the only sound his own harsh breaths echoing in the kitchen, the small space feeling infinitely smaller.

“That doesn’t sound like Christopher,” Bobby said slowly, thoughtfully.

“He’s been different since Kim,” Eddie admitted, his head thudding against the cabinet door behind him, “I don’t know why I thought it would be this easy, but– it seemed like it was going fine when he came over.”

Bobby hummed consideringly. “Maybe you should go back to your parents’ house? See if you can talk to him?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Eddie did not go back to his parent’s house.

As much as he trusted Bobby, trusted that the man had both good intentions and advice, he couldn’t make himself go against Christopher’s wishes like that. He wanted his kid to come to him, he didn’t want to risk chasing him away. Not again.

Instead, he threw himself into unpacking the rest of the kitchen, the living room, his room–

Soon enough, there was only one small pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, full of books and trinkets that he had largely acquired from or with Buck over the years.

Sitting back on his couch in the room now full of life but still so dead, he was shocked to find it dark outside the windows. He hadn’t really noticed time passing, but with the amount he had gotten done he supposed it made sense.

Sighing, Eddie finally pulled his phone back out of his pocket, checking it for the first time since he had hung out with Bobby earlier. He sat bolt upright at the number of notifications waiting for him, several from Buck, from Bobby, from– Christopher.

could i come over tomorrow after school?

its ok if youre busy!

dad? 

whatever.

Eddie scrambled to answer, a tight feeling in his chest.

Of course you can! Sorry, I’ve been unpacking all day.

Want me to pick you up?

What made you change your mind?

He swapped over to his conversation with Buck while he waited, not bothering to read all the concerned messages Buck had sent in favor of typing out a quick ‘He wants to come over tomorrow?!?!’

pls pick me up, abuelo keeps asking me about my grades

what do you mean change my mind??

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, scrolling up in the conversation. Maybe he had read it wrong? Not that it was really easy to misread the word ‘no.’

Why is he asking about grades? You’ve always been a good student

Earlier you said to stop asking you to come over

earlier??

i didnt have my phone earlier, they dont usually let me take it to school unless i have something happening after

Huh.

Looked like Eddie was going to be going to his parents’ house after all.

…I see. My mistake

I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it!

Eddie looked around the room, the blue couch sitting on his familiar rug, the coffee table at perfect footrest distance from the couch, the insane amount of lamps he had– and couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t home. He was finally closer to his son, but they were still 10 minutes away. The rest of his family– he didn’t really want to think about how far they were.

Sighing, he levered himself off the couch slowly, shuffling down the hallway to his room. Stripping out of his sweaty shirt, Eddie collapsed face first onto the mattress. He could try to fix things tomorrow. Tonight he deserved some rest.

The next day, Eddie stormed up to his parents house shortly after noon, banging on the solid door with the side of his fist.

He tapped his foot impatiently as the confused muttering from inside grew closer to the door before it opened a sliver, his father’s face peeking out.

“Ramon,” Eddie greeted tersely, pushing the door open with one hand to allow himself to step inside.

Helena was standing at the other end of the hallway, looking at Eddie like she didn’t even recognize him. “Eddie? What are you doing here? Christopher is at school–”

“I know he is,” Eddie cut her off, smiling tensely, “I came here to talk to you two. Should I not visit my parents?”

“Of course you can visit us,” Ramon said, his gaze flicking between Eddie and Helena, “would you like something to drink?”

Eddie paused, leaning against a wall and levelling Helena and Ramon with a look as they drifted together. “No, I’m alright. I would, however, love to know why you used my son’s phone to try to convince me he didn’t want to see me.”

Ramon’s eyebrows bunched together, his head turning to look at Helena. His mother was staring at him, lips pressed together but looking unashamed regardless. Her chin was tilted up, her gaze steely as she refused to meet her husband’s eyes.

“I– I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Eddie,” Ramon started, “we wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course not,” Helena agreed, “if Christopher isn’t wanting to see you, that is not our fault. You may want to look inwards.”

Ramon nodded, “Yes. If Christopher said–”

“Christopher didn’t say anything,” Eddie growled, “Christopher was at school. His phone, on the other hand, was here. So, which one of you did that? Or was it a joint effort?”

He wasn’t even sure what answer he expected here– honestly, there was a chance they had worked together– schemed to find the best way to keep his son away from him, make him give up and return to LA, leaving them to keep Christopher and raise him. His mother was more upfront about her intentions, but his father was just as bad– he just wasn’t as open about it. Passive aggressive, Frank had said.

“Do you not trust us?” Ramon asked, a frown heavy on his face. 

“No, I don’t.”

“We just want what’s best for Christopher,” Helena insisted, clasping her hands together and shaking them in front of her, as if pleading with him to understand.

As if he could ever understand his own parents doing this to him.

“You need to trust that we are what’s good for him!”

Eddie stared at his mother, hardly even recognizing her. “How can I trust you to be good for him? You weren’t good for me!”

Rolling her eyes, Helena gestured in the direction of Eddie’s old room– presumably Christopher’s room, now. “Just look at him. He’s doing so well here, better than he ever did with you in LA!” She sounded so sure of herself– so confident that Christopher wasn’t thriving with him in LA, wasn’t happy surrounded by family that loved him and places he loved to go.

“He was doing good in LA, too,” Eddie argued, “not that you would know. You never bothered to see if he was doing alright, you just assumed I was doing a bad job.”

Ramon stepped forward, his hands raised placatingly. “We didn’t assume anything bad about you or your parenting– but it’s hard not to notice how much happier he has been since arriving here.”

And that– yeah. Christopher did seem happier than he was when he left. But he wasn’t happier than he had been before that. He wasn’t happier than he was during movie nights with Buck, balancing popcorn on Buck’s nose when he inevitably fell asleep halfway through the second movie. He wasn’t happier than he was at team barbecues, playing games with Denny, making silly faces at Jee-Yun, asking Bobby questions about the firehouse.

“What about me?” Eddie asked eventually, aware of how much his voice was shaking.

“If you’re so capable of being a good parent what the hell happened when I was a kid?!” Gesturing wildly, Eddie took a step closer to his parents. “Why– why couldn’t you be like this when I was younger? When I needed you? I still need you, I’m still your kid, and–”

“That’s not fair,” Helena insisted, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“This isn’t fair!” Eddie snapped, refusing to feel guilty, “My whole life I thought that the way I was raised was normal, that it was just how it was for us, but– clearly not.” Shaking his head, he backed away towards the front door. “Clearly you are capable of being decent parents, just not to me.”

“Get out,” Ramon said sternly, stepping in front of Helena. “Come back when you can be civil.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, spinning away from his parents. “Just so you know, I’m picking Christopher up from school. I’ll let you know if he wants to come back here tonight or stay with me.”

He slammed the front door behind him, ignoring Helena’s protests. 

They were not going to keep Christopher from him. Not if he could help it.

Even if it meant he didn’t get to try to rebuild his relationship with his parents.

Even if it meant he had to burn it down.

Christopher was going to the same middle school Eddie went to. 

Somewhere in him he had known that, but seeing it– it felt wrong. When Eddie went there it was smaller, missing the new gym that was now sitting where the parking lot once was, the trees that were saplings when Eddie got there now taller, full of new life. 

Maybe it was a good school. Maybe Christopher loved it. 

Eddie didn’t have any good memories of the place nor the time in his life when he had been there.

But if Christopher liked it, he would come to the place every day to pick him up. He might even go inside, attend one of Christopher’s chess tournaments. Was that a thing? Probably.

Before he could get lost in his thoughts too much, Eddie’s eyes caught on his son, standing outside the building with a couple other boys that must be some of his friends. They were laughing loudly, occasionally shoving each other good-naturedly, never hard enough to actually move each other.

Chris looked… happy. Settled.

For a moment Eddie wondered what he was even doing here, why he was trying to convince his son to come back to LA at all when he was so clearly happy here, why he wasn’t just content to stay in Texas with his son and rebuild their relationship here. But then… he turned. The second Christopher spotted the truck his face split in two with a grin, and he broke away from his friends with a quick wave.

Eddie watched, tightness growing in his chest, as Chris sped up, his legs blurring as he scrambled over to the truck.

“Hey, Dad!” he called, opening the passenger door and climbing up into the seat, setting his crutches in the floorboard as Eddie watched on fondly.

“Hey, Christopher,” Eddie said softly, slowly pressing on the gas once he was fully settled. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Chris said happily, staring out the window, “I got an A on my algebra test. Did you finish unpacking?”

Smiling, Eddie squeezed the steering wheel. “Great job, bud. I– almost. Few more boxes to go.”

Christopher hummed absently, eyes glued on the new scenery outside the window. They passed a park, grass largely dead but with a large accessible playground and a pond where they could feed ducks. With any luck, he would be able to take Christopher there soon. Maybe they could even go to the lake where he took Shannon, maybe talk about her a bit.

Before long they were pulling into the driveway of the new house, Eddie throwing the truck into park and hopping out, eager to show Christopher the house now that it was set up. 

Christopher was right behind him as he unlocked the front door, pushing past him into the hallways and staring straight into the living room. “It looks the same,” he murmured, stepping further into the room and sitting on the couch, slowly raising his feet to rest them on the coffee table.

“I thought it might be better if I didn’t change anything,” Eddie explained softly, “for both of us.”

Nodding, Christopher took his feet back off the coffee table, getting up to sort through the shelves in the room instead. Eddie watched on as he dug through them with increasing speed, almost as if he was looking for something.

“Is something wrong?” Eddie asked, looking frantically around the room for what he could have gotten wrong.

“Where’s all of Buck’s stuff?” Chris asked, looking over his shoulder with his eyebrows furrowed.

And– yeah. So maybe he never got around to putting out the box of trinkets Buck bought. Or the photos of the two of them with Chris, or the lumpy chicken he made when he took up crocheting for a week.

He also hadn’t unpacked the small bible Bobby had given him, the welcome back letter from the firehouse after he returned from dispatch, the little prank kit Chimney got him for Christmas one year that he had hidden from Chris and Buck immediately, or the little pride flag Hen had given him out of the blue one day, a secretive smile on her face. 

Some things hurt to look at.

“I said I’ve got a couple more boxes,” Eddie reminded him, turning Christopher with his hands on his shoulders to face the corner of the room with a tower of cardboard in it, “I just ran out of time. I’ll get to it, don’t worry.”

Christopher nodded, eyes glued to the boxes. “Could I have one of the pictures of me and Buck?” he asked, taking a hesitant step forward.

“Can you– of course, Chris. I thought you brought a couple with you?” 

“Abuelo took them away,” Chris muttered, digging into the box at the top of the stack, grunting triumphantly as he pulled out a stack of picture frames wrapped in paper.

He took them away? Eddie closed his eyes tightly, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself. His parents had always been a little weird about the extent to which Buck was in his and Christopher’s lives, but– they took away his pictures? That was too far.

Huffing, Eddie sat on the couch, watching as Chris dug through the pictures for the one he wanted. Maybe his parents really were as bad as they were when he was a kid– or at least nearly as bad– but just in a different way. They were more subtle about it, but– constantly questioning Christopher about his grades despite the kid having straight A’s, going on his phone and answering his texts, taking away beloved photos–

“Would you want to stay the night here? Buck taught me his fancy grilled cheese recipe,” Eddie blurted out, hopping up from the couch and clapping his hands together.

Chris jumped, startled but looking pleased regardless. “Yeah,” he said, grinning up at his father, “that sounds good!”

The grilled cheese went surprisingly well.

Honestly, he hadn’t actually practiced it before, so the fact that he managed to pull it off on the first try was a miracle.

Eddie was at the sink, washing the dishes as Christopher sat at the counter behind him, in theory doing homework but really just taking in more of the new room.

“Dad?” Chris said suddenly, his voice full of poorly-hidden curiosity, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Eddie said immediately. He was not going to risk shutting the kid down, not now that he was finally back to voluntarily talking to him.

“Do you not have a job anymore?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh, turning to look at Christopher. “Seriously?” he asked, grinning at his son. The answer, of course, was not at the moment, but– the question was a bit blunt.

“What?” Chris giggled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “you don’t seem like you’re doing much besides just… unpacking, right now.”

Which, yeah. That was fair. He wasn’t doing anything besides unpacking and trying to mend his relationship with his son (and destroy the one with his parents, apparently), but in his defense that wasn’t for lack of trying.

“Well… the only skilled jobs I’ve ever had were being a medic and a firefighter, and none of the stations here are hiring right now,” Eddie said slowly, “I’ll find something eventually. I might see if I can work at that grocery store by your grandparents’ house– I worked there when I was in high school.”

Christopher nodded seriously, looking up at him. “That’s good. I don’t… I don’t really want you to be a firefighter here.”

Confused, Eddie stopped scrubbing at the pan, drying his hands to turn his full attention to his son. “Okay. Can I ask why not?”

There was a moment where Christopher looked like he didn’t want to answer, but eventually he nodded. “I always worried about you back– home. In LA. But not that much, ‘cause I knew Buck would keep you safe. And I knew Bobby wouldn’t let you do anything– anything dumb. But Buck isn’t here to help you, now, and I don’t know any of the firefighters here.”

He looked nervous, sitting on the barstool and staring at Eddie. His fingers were tapping on the countertop, occasionally twisting together.

“Alright,” Eddie said eventually, smiling softly at him, “no firefighting in El Paso, then. I can be a cashier– or maybe I’ll get back into delivery driving.”

“What did you do before you were a firefighter?” Chris asked, his eyes narrowed, “after the army?”

Eddie turned back to the sink, sticking his hands into the sudsy water and fishing around for another dish to wash as a distraction. “I, uh– a few things. I don’t know if you remember, you were so small, but I wasn’t home much–”

“I remember,” Chris said flatly.

“Right,” Eddie said, clenching his eyes shut, “I was working a few jobs. Shannon had just left, and I– I understand, now. She had to leave. Maybe she should have come back after, but– she had to leave. It was hard, though. I had to make ends meet somehow, and I couldn’t go back to the army, so I just– worked anywhere that would take me. I had a few jobs, that’s why I wasn’t around much. I was always at work.”

His hands had stilled in the sink as he spoke, and he finally removed them from the water, bracing himself on the edge of the counter. “I need you to know I never– never wanted to be away from you. Every job I had, I spent the entire time wishing I was home with you, connecting with you, but– I had to do it. I had to support you, even if it meant you knew my parents more than you knew me.”

That had always been the justification. There was no other option– he couldn’t just let his kid starve. But no matter how often he tried to tell himself he had done the right thing, Eddie knew he would always regret not being home more.

“Thank you,” Chris said softly, and Eddie turned to find him staring down at the countertop. “I missed you, but I think I might have missed food more,” he teased, finally looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes.

Breathing out a laugh, Eddie turned back to the sink, finally getting back to actually washing the dishes. There was a shuffling behind him, and then Christopher was at his side, grabbing the dish towel and drying the dishes already in the rack.

“We can work together now,” Christopher said, voice wise beyond his years as he so often was, “you– you don’t have to do it alone, anymore.”

“Oh, Chris,” Eddie breathed, his throat feeling tight, “I haven’t been alone in a long time. Thank you.”

With Christopher sound asleep in his room, Eddie allowed himself to hide under the blankets on his bed. It felt childish, secreting himself away like this, but the small space also felt… safe. Protective.

He had to face the world eventually, though, and Eddie found himself pulling out his phone instinctively, fingers pulling up Bobby’s contact almost without his input.

The ringing on the other side of the line cut through the quiet room, and Eddie rushed to turn on the fan, needing to try to muffle whatever conversation he was about to have. The walls of the house were shockingly thick, but he didn’t want to risk Christopher overhearing anything if he got up to go to the bathroom.

Bobby picked up on the fifth ring, his voice groggy. “Eddie? Is everything alright?”

Wincing, Eddie shot a glance towards the clock on his nightstand. Maybe he should have waited to call until Christopher was at school the next day.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said sheepishly, settling back into the mattress, “sorry to be calling so late– I can call back tomorrow.”

“No, no, you’re alright,” Bobby insisted, clearing his throat a few times, “what’s going on?”

Eddie breathed shakily, staring up at his dark ceiling. “Bobby, I don’t– I don’t think my parents were ever planning to let Christopher come home to me. I think they knew when they took him that I would never get to see him again.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Bobby said softly, “you know they were wrong for that, right? You made a mistake, but they had no right to do what they did.”

“I know,” Eddie murmured, finally believing it, “I just– I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bobby hummed on the other side of the line, a door closing faintly. “Well. Chris came over today, right? How was that?”

“It was great,” Eddie replied, a faint smile on his face just at the thought, “you’ve no idea, Bobby, it was– it wasn’t back to normal, he was definitely unsure about it, but– we talked. A lot, about a few things, and– I don’t know. I think we’re on the right track.”

Really, it was going better than he had ever dared to hope while packing up all his things in LA. With any luck, he would be able to turn his back on El Paso in a few months– hopefully for the last time, this go around.

“I’m glad to hear it, Eddie,” Bobby said kindly. “You know your spot is waiting for you here, right? Ravi might have some words for you, though– I keep calling him Eddie.”

Laughing softly, Eddie closed his eyes. This was what he had always imagined having a supportive parent to be like– calling in the middle of the night for advice, a good mixture of quiet laughter and probing questions.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap. How’s Buck?”

“Why don’t you ask him that?”

He could, but– “He would just lie to me, Bobby. You know that.”

For a moment, the only sounds breaking through the quiet of the night were their breaths and the fan running in the corner, the steady sound broken up by a plastic bag too close to it, shaking in the wind. 

“He’s– well. He’s doing fine at work, but at home… I don’t think he’s actually slept in your house yet, Eddie. Not alone, anyway.”

A cold feeling washed over Eddie, his skin crawling strangely at the implications of that. “Not… alone?” he asked slowly, chewing on his lip.

“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t– but he won’t tell you, will he?” Bobby almost sounded like he was talking to himself, voice at a murmur as he debated back and forth. “He slept with Tommy. Apparently he went to Maddie all upset about it this morning before shift; he was pissed with Chimney for telling us.”

“He was upset about it?” Eddie clarified, a dark feeling growing in his gut. He couldn’t exactly leave El Paso, but once he was back…

“Not like that, Eddie,” Bobby cut in, dissipating his thoughts with a few stern words, “I think they had some sort of fight? I don’t know, Chimney didn’t manage to spill all the details before Buck was telling him to stop. I think maybe they had different ideas about what it meant.”

Eddie frowned, not liking the idea of Buck having his heart broken again when Eddie was too far away to be of any help. Last time Tommy decided to be an idiot and dump the best thing that would ever happen to him Eddie managed to cheer Buck up, even if it took him committing a minor crime before a Lakers game. This time, though–

“Think there’s any chance he’s awake?”

“I think he hasn’t actually managed to sleep in your house without some sort of– aid,” Bobby snorted, “I’m sure he’s up.”

“Right. Good night, Bobby. Thanks.”

With that, he pulled his phone away from his ear, Bobby’s response muffled. He hung up, dialing Buck’s number by heart, raising the phone back to his ear with his lips pressed together.

He needed to go about this carefully. Buck was open about his feelings to a point, but anything beyond the line of what he wanted to talk about was almost impossible to get him to talk about– it was like breaking into a vault.

Good thing Eddie had experience.

“Eddie?”

“You slept with Tommy in my house?”

Oops.

There was a sharp intake of air on the other side of the line, followed by the sound of Buck sitting up. “I’m gonna kill Chim,” he grumbled.

“Buck, seriously. I’ve been gone for less than a week, how did you end up going back to Tommy?” Eddie teased, wincing as he realized the implication of that– he was not trying to say he and Buck were together. Buck was his best friend. He just happened to be most of Buck’s impulse control.

And maybe there was a weird pattern of Buck falling into bed with people whenever Eddie was gone for too long.

“Blame Ravi,” Buck groaned, “he brought the asshole over, I was just trying to make more friends and hang out with the probie.”

“Ravi isn’t a probie anymore,” Eddie reminded him gently, rolling his eyes, “what happened with Tommy? You weren’t calling him an asshole last time he came up.”

Buck sighed dramatically, and Eddie could picture the dramatic fall he did onto the mattress, grinning stupidly to himself at his friend’s antics. “He just– he said some things I didn’t agree with, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, “Like what?”

“Uhhh… like, you know– and, uh– hey, how was your day with Christopher?”

Eddie huffed at that, rolling his eyes fondly. “Alright, Buckley. Keep your secrets for now. Today was good; I can tell you all about it– unless you need to get some sleep?”

“No, no,” Buck rushed out, a smile clear in his voice, “I, uh– wasn’t really gonna be sleeping anytime soon. Tell me everything.”

The late night phone calls caught up with Eddie the next morning as he moved sluggishly around the kitchen, scrambling some eggs for Christopher through a yawn. Chris was slow as well, his head resting in his arms on the countertop as Eddie cooked.

He couldn’t be too upset about the lack of sleep, though. Talking to Buck for any amount of time was a surefire way to improve his day, and falling asleep on the phone with him after three hours of talking was about as good as it could get.

Once the eggs were looking about done, Eddie pulled the pan off the stove, plating them up and dropping them onto the counter in front of Chris. “Eat up,” he chirped, “don’t want you to be late for school.”

Chris groaned into his arms, lifting his head to look pathetically up at Eddie over the frames of his smudged glasses. “I don’t feel well. Can I– can I stay home?”

Warmth settled in Eddie’s ribs at Christopher calling his house home, and he hardly even registered his own response of, “Absolutely, Christopher. Do I need to call the school?”

“No,” he muttered, dropping his head back into his arms, “I get one day off every semester.”

Raising his eyebrows, Eddie whistled lowly. “Wow! You haven’t taken a day off yet?”

As careful as they were to treat Chris like any other kid, making sure he could do whatever he wanted, he did have to occasionally take days off to rest if he was having a bad day. They weren’t common, but usually at this point in the year he would have missed around three days. For once, Eddie quietly commended his parents. Clearly the swim team was having a positive effect on Christopher– it was something that Eddie had encouraged him to try out a few times, but they must have had a better approach.

Eddie was dragged from his thoughts by Christopher mumbling something unintelligible into his arms. “What was that?” he asked, smiling down at his son fondly.

“I said,” Chris repeated, raising his head with a frown, “Abuela and Abuelo don’t let me stay home.”

Right. Of course.

“They… don’t let you stay home?” he asked quietly, internally seething. “You need to stay home sometimes. You have a doctor’s note prewritten!”

“I know,” Chris agreed immediately, sitting upright as he caught onto his dad’s anger. “I told them that! Abuelo said I needed to– to man up.”

Of course he did. God forbid a Diaz man be anything other than a rock– strong, permanent, untouchable. Unfeeling.

It had been something that chased Eddie throughout his life, this idea drilled into him by his father that if he was anything less than perfect, if he ever dared to feel anything less than perfect, he was a failure. Naturally, the fact that he worried about it made him a failure by default.

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie snapped, finally allowing himself to feel the righteous anger he had been pushing down all week. “That’s– no, okay, you’re staying home. You’ve always been responsible enough to only ask to stay when you really need to, I can’t believe–”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, flinching backwards when he hit himself in the face with the spatula that was still in his hand.

That seemed to break the tense moment, drawing a subdued but still joyful giggle from Christopher. The sound brought a smile to Eddie’s face, turning to grin at where his son was looking tiredly up at him.

“Eat your eggs,” he said eventually, nudging the plate closer to him with the spatula, “then you can go back to bed. Let me know how you’re feeling later– maybe we can go to the pool, float around for a bit. See if it helps.”

“Yeah!” Christopher cheered, some light returning to his eyes, “there’s a hot tub! I’ll show you.”

Eddie settled back, leaning his weight against the counter as he watched his son happily scarf down the eggs. He was not going back to Helena and Ramon– not if Eddie could help it. With any luck, Chris would agree.

For the next few hours, Eddie puttered around the kitchen. He had realized in his half-asleep stupor that morning that the cabinets didn’t look like they had been cleaned since the house was built, so he was working to remove the built up grease from them. Turns out they weren’t beige– they were a pretty olive color. Who knew.

Halfway through the final cabinet, there was a banging on the front door. Eddie rushed out of the kitchen, desperate to open the door before Christopher could wake up– the kid had been thrashing around in bed trying to get comfortable for most of the morning and the sounds had finally stopped.

Whipping open the door with a few harsh words already on his tongue, Eddie froze at the sight of his parents.

“Uh–” he started, only to be cut off by them shoving their way inside the house. Which– fair, he had done much the same thing to them twice already.

“Eddie. Lovely morning. Christopher at school?”

“Well–”

“Great,” Helena continued, as if he hadn’t said anything. “We need to talk.”

“Hold on,” Eddie protested, still wary about waking up Christopher– especially with something like this.

“No, Eddie,” Ramon said sternly, closing the front door behind them with finality, “this cannot wait.”

Shaking his head, Eddie tried to usher his parents backwards. “Can we talk outside at least?” he begged, looking behind himself frantically.

“What? So the whole neighborhood can hear the rest of your tantrum?” Helena snarked, planting her feet. Ramon stood steady beside her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie could certainly force them out of his house, but… that wasn’t something he was willing to do. As much as he had put in effort to recognize their wrongdoings, he wasn’t quite ready to literally force them out of his life.

“Eddie, it’s time for you to give up,” Ramon said, a horrible pitying look on his face. That was the worst part, really. It didn’t always feel like his parents were trying to be bad people– it was like they truly believed that he was a bad father, that he wasn’t good for Christopher. That they needed to protect Chris from him, somehow.

“On my son? Never,” Eddie said lowly, levelling his parents with a steely glare.

“He deserves a better life,” Helena insisted, a frown on her face, “what is supposed to happen to him in LA if you were to– to get hurt at work? He would just end up with us anyway!”

Putting aside the fact that his parents didn’t seem to have any concern about him in the event of a life-altering injury or, God forbid, his death, the worst part was their incorrect assumption that he would leave his son to them. As if he would ever willingly subject his son to the type of childhood he’d had– the type of childhood they seemed determined to provide Christopher with, even if it was more subtle.

“He wouldn’t end up with you,” Eddie deadpanned, crossing his own arms in a mockery of his father. He had never been happier about his decision– while he never wanted to leave his son behind, he could at least rest easy with the knowledge that Buck would never treat his son like this.

Helena and Ramon were looking at him with matching confused expressions, and Eddie found himself smiling slightly at the realization that he had finally stunned them silent.

“Eddie,” Ramon said slowly, his eyes narrowing, “where does he go?”

“To Buck,” Eddie replied simply. Because of course. Where else would the most important person in the world go? To the other most important person in the world. It seemed obvious to Eddie, and he was sure the rest of the 118 assumed the same thing. 

“To Buck.” Helena’s voice was low, almost like a warning. Thankfully, Eddie was long past the point of worrying about his parents being able to ground him. There was nothing she could do to him, not now.

Eddie leaned a shoulder against the wall, dropping his arms from their crossed position to stuff his hands into his pockets casually. “To Buck,” he confirmed, “now if that’s all–”

Expression stormy, Ramon stepped forward. “Are you out of your mind?” he snarled, voice rising steadily, “you want him to be taken away from his family? To go live with some– some stranger?”

“Buck is not a stranger,” Eddie said, narrowing his eyes, “Buck is family. My family and Christopher’s. And seriously– like you two have any room to talk about taking him away from his family!”

“We didn’t take him,” Helena said in a condescending tone, “he asked to come with us. There’s a difference. I can’t believe you would leave him to this man, Eddie! He deserves a stable life, not to be shunted around from firefighter to firefighter!”

“Why are you talking like my job is some terminal disease?!” Eddie exclaimed, rapidly growing frustrated, “I’m not going to die! There are risks, yes, but we’re a team– we protect each other.”

Groaning in frustration, Helena threw her hands in the hair. “Why can’t you just accept that you aren’t good for Christopher?”

“I am good for him,” Eddie insisted, ignoring the tears he could feel welling in his eyes. “I can’t keep having this conversation, just– get out of my house.”

“No, Eddie,” Ramon cut in, “we will not be leaving until we come to an agreement.”

A throat clearing softly broke through the electricity in the air, and all three of them swiveled their heads to find Christopher in the hallway outside his room, a deep frown on his face.

“I have an agreement,” he said, looking to Eddie briefly for reassurance. “I’m going back to LA. With Dad.”

“Mijo–” Ramon started, his voice dying in his throat, clearly at a loss for words.

Grinning wider than he had in a long time, Eddie turned back to his parents. “Well,” he said smugly, “looks like that’s settled. I’ll come by later for his things. Have a nice day.”

With that, he ushered them out of the house as quickly as possible, locking it firmly behind them. As soon as they were out of sight of the window beside the door, he leaned all his weight against it, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply in relief.

“I’m sorry we woke you, bud–”

“I’m so sorry,” Christopher interrupted, his voice thick. Eddie wrenched open his eyes, rushing forward to find his son on the verge of tears. “Hey, hey,” he soothed, crouching down to pull him into a hug, “what’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe they said that stuff to you,” Christopher admitted, leaning his weight against Eddie, the lack of his crutches leaving him unstable.

Eddie smiled shakily, running a careful hand through his son’s hair. “That’s alright. They– they don’t know what they’re talking about, so I try not to listen.”

“I didn’t realize,” Chris said, his voice muffled into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt, “I– some of the things they did bothered me, but I figured they were just more strict than you. But they’re evil.”

Snorting out a laugh, Eddie used his grip on Christopher’s shoulders to draw him back, meeting his eyes. “They’re not evil,” he said, his eyes alight with humor, “they just– they don’t see things the way we do.”

“They see things wrong,” Christopher deadpanned, smirking toothily at his father. 

A rush of fondness nearly knocked Eddie the rest of the way to the ground, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to steady himself. He couldn’t believe that had just happened– Chris was coming back to LA. If he had known all he had to do was come to El Paso and subject himself to his parents for a few days he would have been on the next flight after Christopher left.

“So, you… you want to come home?” Eddie asked eventually, his voice tentative. He wouldn’t push too hard if Christopher said no– there was always a chance he had only said that in the heat of the moment.

Chris pulled all the way back, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of him on the floor. “I do. I don’t want to stay here with them, and I know you don’t like it here that much, and I– I want you to be happy too. We belong in LA.”

Breathing deeply, Eddie looked around the house, finding it more welcoming now that he knew it was a stepping stone and not a place he would need to see at home. Home was states away, in a little house on South Bedford Street, sitting on his old blue couch with his son and his– his Buck.

“Could I… finish the school year, though?” Christopher asked nervously.

Two months seemed doable. Two months seemed like nothing compared to the rest of his life.

“Of course, mijo,” Eddie murmured, dragging his son back into a hug while the kid was still allowing it, “anything for you.”

Having Christopher around all the time made the last two months in El Paso fly by. Eddie ended up only working part time at a diner that had the same hours as Christopher’s school– not great, but worth it to spend all his free time catching up with his son.

Finally, though, Christopher had finished his school year. They had waited a week after the middle school graduation, allowing Christopher to hang out with his friends in El Paso as Eddie packed up the remainder of the house, the boxes of Buck’s trinkets still remaining untouched in the corner.

It hadn’t felt right, once they knew it wasn’t going to end up being their home, to put Buck’s things out. Better to bring them back to LA, to a place where the love seeped through the floorboards into every room.

Eddie placed the last box in the moving truck, clapping his hands together once in celebration. He hadn’t sold the house yet– probably wouldn’t for a little while, honestly. It wasn’t exactly desirable, but his realtor assured him the right buyer would come around eventually. He was cautiously hopeful that he could manage to pay for the mortgage in El Paso as well as taking the lease back over in LA, but that was a problem for future Eddie.

Present Eddie was just happy to be getting the hell out of El Paso and away from his parents for good. Getting Christopher’s things from their house had been an exercise in self control, but he had managed it without having the police called on him, which felt like an achievement.

Christopher was already in the passenger seat of the truck, occasionally calling through the open window for Eddie to hurry up. Eddie grinned fondly as the latest shout of “Dad! Come on!” broke the still morning air, rolling down the back of the trailer and jogging up to the driver’s side of the truck.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he called, hopping in and buckling himself in. “We ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” Chris teased, “you’re just slow!”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Eddie shoved the car into drive, pulling out of the driveway of the dingy house in El Paso for the last time. He watched out of the corner of his eye as it got smaller and smaller, finally disappearing from view as he went around a bend, the red letters of the For Sale sign the last thing he could see.

Good riddance.

“Alright!” Eddie said loudly, tapping his hands on the wheel, “it’s gonna be a long drive– what do we want to do to entertain ourselves?”

Chris hummed thoughtfully beside him, tapping his chin with a finger theatrically. “I think we should call Buck!”

“Maybe something else, bud,” Eddie said slowly, biting his lip nervously. He hadn’t exactly– told Buck they were coming back. At first he just wanted to surprise the man, but the longer it went on– well. He had been looking forward to returning to LA to find Buck in his house, all warm smiles and laughter, and if Buck knew he would have time to move.

Besides, things had been weird with Buck recently. He never did get around to explaining what happened with Tommy and every time Eddie asked the question was evaded, which did not help to ease his concern.

So– no calling Buck.

“How about we play the alphabet game?” Eddie offered, glancing away from the road for just long enough to take in Christopher’s deadpan stare. 

“...Fine,” Chris grumbled eventually, turning to stare out the window and look for his first letter. 

Nearly 13 hours and 10 whole alphabets later, they were pulling onto South Bedford Street. Christopher was half asleep, his cheek squished against the window, smearing the glass as he called out letters. At this point Eddie was 90% sure the kid was just saying random letters and not looking, which was confirmed when Chris murmured a quiet “J” as Eddie pulled into the driveway.

“Chris, bud,” Eddie said softly, laughing through the words, “we’re here.”

That had him sitting upright, a red mark pressed into his cheek and his hair sticking up one side. Eddie snorted quietly, reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair, ignoring the immediate protest.

“C’mon, let’s go surprise Buck.”

Chris snapped his head to the side at that, squinting his eyes. “Surprise?”

“Yup,” Eddie said casually, popping the ‘p’, “I didn’t tell him we were coming. Want to go see his face?”

“Yes!” Christopher cheered, scrambling to get his seatbelt off.

Eddie hopped out of the truck first, taking a moment to just stare at the house, a peacefulness settling over him that he hadn’t felt in months. There was a light still on, shards of lights stabbing into the still, dark night. Inside, Buck’s shadow was moving around the dining room– probably cleaning up from a meal.

They were home.

“Let me go first,” Eddie said as Christopher got out of the truck and immediately started towards the path, “you can come in right behind me.”

Christopher nodded conspiratorially, falling into step slightly behind Eddie like a shadow.

Stepping carefully, Eddie crept up the front path to the door, turning his key in the lock as quietly as he could manage. He pulled the door open slowly, grinning at the lack of a creak. Buck must have oiled the hinges at some point.

They snuck into the house, creeping down the hallway until Buck was in sight.

For a moment Eddie just watched Buck in silence, fondness growing in his chest, taking root amongst his ribs, as Buck danced around the dining room. There was music playing distantly from the kitchen, something he had heard Buck humming before. The man was spinning around the room, grabbing the remains of his dinner as he went.

Eddie waited politely until Buck had put everything down, not wanting the man to drop anything, then–

“Buck!” he called, laughing gleefully as the man jumped into the air, spinning towards them with his mouth agape.

“Holy sh–shoot!” Buck exclaimed, his eyes huge as they flicked between Eddie and Christopher. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“Dream of me often?” Eddie teased, crossing the distance to drag Buck into a quick hug before shoving him towards Christopher. He stepped back, leaning on the wall as he watched his son and his– his– as he watched his son and Buck embrace. 

Buck pulled back eventually, pressing a loud, smacking kiss to the top of Christopher’s head. His head tilted upwards, looking up at Eddie through tear-filled eyes. “What are you guys doing here?” he breathed.

“We’re home,” Eddie murmured, pushing himself off the wall and tugging Buck back in, one arm settling around his shoulders and the other wrapping around Christopher.

“What– seriously?” Buck asked thickly, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Christopher nodded, grinning up at Buck widely. “Surprise!”

There was a look on Buck’s face that Eddie had never seen before– something caught between overwhelming joy and– fear?

Concerned, Eddie wracked his brain for what the hell could have Buck afraid, only to come up empty. Unless– maybe he was nervous about the housing situation? Eddie probably should have given him some amount of warning, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it when faced with Buck’s thrilled face, the man chasing after Christopher towards the boy’s room, eager to show him– something. Maybe Eddie should have been listening.

He followed behind them, taking in the sight of his son back home, walking along the familiar halls with the confidence he had gained in Texas and the security he had at home. Buck jumped in front of Chris, swinging the door open to reveal– oh.

At some point over the last two months, Christopher had mentioned on facetime with Buck that the only thing he was really going to miss about El Paso besides his friends was the cloud mural in his room. Clearly Buck had taken that to heart.

On one wall was a gorgeous recreation of the cloud mural in Christopher’s room at the house in El Paso, and on the opposite wall– a similar scene, but at night with the Milky Way peaking through the clouds. Eddie followed his family into the center of the room, spinning around in awe in an attempt to take in both murals at the same time.

“You– since when can you paint?” Eddie managed eventually, Christopher still stunned into silence beside him.

“I had a lot of free time,” Buck explained sheepishly, one hand planted firmly on the back of his neck. “Chimney told me if I brought over another loaf of bread he was going to start breaking in and putting them in the walls, so– I found a different hobby. I practiced a ton before I touched the walls, I promise! I just– I wanted to do something for Chris. I’m just glad I finished in time.”

Buck had learned how to paint. He had dedicated time to it over the last couple months, probably spent hours practicing just to do this for his son, make Christopher that little bit happier about the return to LA.

Eddie took a steadying breath, dragging his eyes away from the walls to look back at Buck.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his hand drifting to rest in its spot on Buck’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I– thank you, Buck,” Chris said finally, his voice thick through tears. He wiped at his cheeks roughly, clearly trying to hide the emotion in true teenager fashion. 

Laughing nervously, Buck started back out of the room. “It was no trouble, really!” he insisted, turning to them with a quick grin. “Hey, are you two hungry? I bet you are– travelling always takes it out of me. How about pizza?”

Buck was being… weird. 

Everything had been good during dinner– exchanging random work and school stories as they ate, laughter ringing throughout the house. Eddie was finally starting to feel at home again for the first time in nearly a year, but– 

Christopher had gone to bed an hour ago, thoroughly exhausted from a day of travelling and the excitement of seeing Buck again. Eddie had convinced Buck to stay up a bit longer, but Buck didn’t seem too thrilled about it.

“Listen,” Eddie said, unable to take the awkward silence they had been sitting in for the last ten minutes. It was unnatural, they never had awkward silences. “Are you being weird ‘cause you’re worried about getting kicked out? I wouldn’t do that to you– I’ll take the couch. You technically have the lease for the rest of the year, so if we need to find another place–”

“No!” Buck cut him off, voice loud in the still room.

Eyebrows raised, Eddie settled back into the couch cushion behind him, his hands settling on his stomach. “Alright. Is there… something you would prefer?”

Buck’s face scrunched up, his eyes squinting in the way they did when he was trying to think of a solution. “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch…” he said slowly, “but I don’t really want to do that either– especially not this couch. It’s not nearly comfortable enough.”

“I brought my couch back. Maybe tomorrow we can bring it in– you’re definitely not sleeping out here though; your name is on the lease.”

“Eddie, it’s your house,” Buck said, a put out look on his face.

Frowning, Eddie settled back into the couch, trying to assess Buck. He really didn’t want the man to sleep on the couch, but he knew how stubborn and self-sacrificing Buck could be, even about the little things.

“How about it’s our house,” he said eventually, nudging Buck’s shoulder gently with his own. “And how about we just share the bed for tonight? It’ll be like in quarantine.”

It seemed obvious enough to Eddie. They had shared a bed before, there was no reason for them not to share a bed now. After all, Buck wasn’t kidding– his couch wasn’t nearly comfortable enough to really sleep on.

Buck didn’t look like he agreed. He was staring straight forward, eyes locked on the coffee table with his lips pursed. “I– would you not be uncomfortable?”

As if being around Buck could ever make him uncomfortable. Even when they were being weird around each other– like now– Eddie was never uncomfortable.

“Buck,” he said, grabbing the man’s shoulder and forcing him to turn towards him, “why the hell would I be uncomfortable? It’s just you.”

“Well… last time we shared a bed, it was before– you know!” Buck’s hands were waving wildly, his eyes darting around the room.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Eddie tilted his head to the side as he considered the nervous form of his best friend. “Before… what?” he asked slowly, not sure what could have possibly made Buck think he was capable of making Eddie uncomfortable.

Before Eddie moved to Texas? Before Buck started living in Eddie’s house? Before– before what?

“Before I came out,” Buck rushed out, breathing heavily, as if saying the words was equivalent to running a marathon.

“Buck,” Eddie started carefully, shifting his hold on Buck’s shoulder to run his thumb along the man’s collarbone, “why would that make me uncomfortable? It’s not like you’re in love with me, you just like some men.”

“...Right,” Buck said, his eyes fluttering shut as his breathing finally steadied. “Of course, I don’t– yeah. That was–silly.”

Eddie snorted, standing up from the couch and gesturing for Buck to follow him. “C’mon then, you look exhausted, man.”

“Careful, Eddie,” Buck teased, following after him obediently, “keep saying those sweet words and I might just fall for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie swung open the door to his bedroom, only to freeze at the sight that greeted him. Somewhere inside of him, he knew that Buck moving in meant Buck’s things in his old room, but seeing it–

Objectively, he should have told Buck before moving back to LA. Most people would find it rude, in fact, that he hadn’t– after all, them being back meant Buck had two unexpected people living in his house for the foreseeable future. Eddie knew Buck wouldn’t think about it that way, but– still.

Despite that, Eddie could not be more glad that he hadn’t told Buck. If he had, the other man would have packed up and moved as soon as possible, not wanting to get in the way of Eddie and Christopher’s return to LA. Which means Eddie never would have gotten to see Buck’s things littered throughout his home, Buck’s bed in Eddie’s room, Buck’s shitty couch in the same spot Eddie’s had been, no matter how impractical that layout was.

“Well,” he said eventually, moving out of the doorway when he realized Buck was shifting his feet awkwardly behind him, “goodnight, then?”

“Sure,” Buck snorted, his eyes shining fondly as he flopped down onto the bed, looking up at Eddie teasingly. “Goodnight, then, Eddie.”

And if the sight of Buck laying in bed, looking up at him with his stupid soft smile and his stupid crinkly eyes had Eddie’s chest feeling all tight– well. That was probably just the long day of travelling finally catching up with him.

Eddie woke slowly, blinking the ceiling into focus, something deep in his gut settling as he recognized the familiar ceiling of his bedroom in the house on South Bedford Street. It took him a moment too long to realize something was wrong– the other side of the bed was empty. In his defense, he was pretty used to waking up with an empty bed, but he knew for a fact Buck had been beside him when he fell asleep.

Reaching over to the other side of the mattress, Eddie breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was still warm. At least Buck hadn’t snuck away to sleep on the couch, although waking up without the other man was still more disappointing than he had expected.

He flung his legs over the edge of the bed with a wide yawn, wiping the sleep out of his eyes clumsily. The room looked strange with all of Buck’s things in it, but it was a good kind of strange– being surrounded by Buck’s things almost felt like having Buck with him, even when the man was elsewhere in the house.

Determined to figure out where the hell his best friend had actually gone, Eddie finally levered himself out of bed and headed down the hallway.

The sound of quiet laughter filtered down the hall, and Eddie smiled to himself at the familiar chorus of Buck and Christopher’s joy. He paused at the entrance of the kitchen, listening as Buck rambled about something, his voice covered by the clinking of dishes as he stirred something in a bowl.

When the desire to see the moment overwhelmed the need not to interrupt it, Eddie stepped into the doorframe.

Christopher was sat up on the counter, a bowl of pancake batter beside him that he was stirring enthusiastically. At the stove, Buck was flipping bacon with one hand and stirring a bowl of eggs with the other, his apron tied around his waist tightly. Eddie’s eyes caught on him for a moment, drifting across his shoulders, the way the light caught in his hair, the tie of the apron just above–

Clearing his throat, Eddie came further into the room, tousling Christopher’s hair as he stepped past him to the coffee maker. Maybe some coffee would clear his head.

“Morning Eddie!” Buck called over his shoulder, his lips spread wide in a grin. “Hungry?”

“You know I am,” Eddie said, nudging Buck’s shoulder with his own gently, settling beside the other man to watch as he cooked.

Chris giggled from his spot on the counter, swinging his legs out to kick gently at the backs of Eddie’s thighs. “You’re always hungry!” Eddie couldn’t hold in his grin, reaching behind himself to grab at Christopher’s ankle playfully. “I’m a growing boy!”

“I hope not,” Buck teased, leaning further into Eddie’s space, his head tipping to the side to rest on Eddie’s shoulder briefly, “you’ll be insufferable if you get taller than me.”

Eddie tilted his head up slightly, really noticing the height difference this close. And yeah– he didn’t really want to get taller than Buck, honestly. It was nice having to look up at someone for once, feeling– smaller, somehow.

Shaking himself off, Eddie backed away, clapping loudly. “Well! We’ve got a lot to do today– we ready?”

“What are we doing?” Christopher asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

“We,” Eddie said dramatically, doing jazz hands for emphasis, “are going to surprise everyone else!”

With Christopher’s loud cheers and Buck’s fond smile, Eddie could feel it– it was going to be a good day.

For once, he wasn’t wrong.

They had made the rounds, visiting Bobby and Athena first so Eddie could thank the captain in person for all of his advice, and then making their way around to the rest of their family. Everyone had been thrilled, alternating between hugging Christopher and hugging Eddie, wide smiles never leaving their faces.

The entire time, Eddie could feel Buck stood just behind him, watching the proceedings happily.

There had been a bit of an awkward moment near the end of the day, when they finally reached Maddie and Chimney’s house. It almost seemed like Maddie was– trying to signal something to Buck? 

There was definitely something going on there, but Eddie was just so happy to be home, to finally be around his family again, that he didn’t feel like digging into it.

Finally back at home, Eddie dropped down onto Buck’s couch, grinning wearily at his boys as they chatted excitedly about the pigeons they had seen while out and about, somehow still full of energy while Eddie felt like he was one strong breeze from falling over and taking a nap on the ground.

As he settled into the cushions, shifting in an attempt to get properly comfortable, Eddie came to a realization– they hadn’t brought in his couch. 

It had been kind of nice sharing a bed with Buck. The weight and warmth of another person was something Eddie had been missing, and while they hadn’t exactly cuddled, their arms and legs did occasionally brush. It wasn’t much, but it was a bit of the touch that Eddie hadn’t even realized he was craving for months now.

Buck, on the other hand, did not seem to have enjoyed it. Or at least was unwilling to talk about it. Both Hen and Maddie had teased them about sleeping on the couch and Buck had expertly dodged both of their curious gazes, spinning the topic around to setting up a playdate– sorry, a hangout– with Christopher.

Eddie sat on the couch, unsure of his next steps, until Christopher finally called out a goodnight and headed off down the hall.

The second Buck turned back to him the smile faded from his face, his eyes taking in the decidedly uncomfortable couch Eddie was sat on.

“We forgot the couch,” Buck said softly, thankfully sounding more amused than disappointed.

“We sure did,” Eddie confirmed, forcing himself up off the couch, the exhaustion dragging at his bones. “Bed?”

Buck hovered uncertainly, his eyes flickering between the couch and the hallway to Eddie’s room. Sighing, Eddie reached out and grabbed his elbow, dragging the other man behind him. 

If this was going to be his last chance to share a bed with Buck, he was not going to waste it.

…He was also not going to question why the idea of it being the last time was so painful.

Regardless, he had no chance of forgetting the couch again– although it had been an accident! Really! He wasn’t exactly upset that the accident led to Buck flopping into his bed again, rolling under the comforter, his hair splaying out on the pillow.

He certainly wasn’t upset that it led to waking up in the middle of the night with his legs tangled in with Buck’s. 

Buck hadn’t woken up, his breaths coming out in snuffling snores, puffs of air tickling Eddie’s cheek with each exhale. 

Maybe Eddie shouldn’t be this entranced by the feeling of his best friend beside him, the trust inherent in Buck sleeping so soundly, not waking even as Eddie rolled to face him. His best friend’s face was lax, his mouth hanging open in a way that probably should be unattractive but was just– adorable.

Fuck.

The next morning, Eddie was the one out of bed as the sun rose, needing some time alone with his thoughts and away from Buck.

He arranged breakfast for them on the table– nothing as nice as Buck’s, but some respectable eggs and mostly unburnt toast. It looked better once he had the table fully set, the stupidly extravagant pitcher he hadn’t bothered to bring to Texas full of orange juice, Buck’s cloth napkins on the table beside each plate.

The distant rustling of Buck and Christopher waking had him rushing to open a window, hoping the vague burning smell from the toast would clear out before his boys came out for breakfast. 

Buck was out first, his cheek creased from the pillow and his eyes squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window. A rush of warmth flowed through Eddie’s chest at the sight, settling around his heart like a hug– or a vice-like grip. 

It was nothing new, really. Every room was brighter– better– with Buck in it, nothing had really changed.

But maybe Eddie hadn’t ever really looked at the feeling too closely before the previous night.

Not that it mattered– Buck was Buck. Of course he made everything feel warmer, he was Buck.  

Buck settled at the table wordlessly, flashing a grateful smile at Eddie before digging into the food, toast crumbs flying everywhere as he ate. Christopher emerged from his room just as Buck was moving onto his eggs, a cry of delight at the sight of the food erupting from him as he came barreling into the dining room.

For a moment Eddie debated just standing and watching them eat, but he knew he would need his energy for the day ahead– he had to return the U-Haul today, there would be no more running around with his boys and having fun. It was crunch time.

As he dug into the eggs, Buck finally spoke. “So– I never really got around to asking– how was Texas?”

Snorting, Eddie shook his head. He quickly finished off the egg in his mouth, pointing his fork at Buck. “Awful. My parents– well.”

“They were mean!” Christopher cut in, a frown creasing his face.

“Mean?” Buck asked, his eyebrows coming together, the corners of his mouth tugging down in concern. Buck had a unique ability Eddie had never seen in anyone else– with the exception of Christopher, who had learned it from his Buck– to morph his face into a perfect replica of a sad puppy. It was unfortunate for Eddie, who caved to the look every time.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, a careful smile on his lips, “they certainly could have been kinder with their words. And their actions.”

“And they did not like it when Dad told them about you being in his will–”

“Wait, I’m still– it’s still me?” Buck cut in shakily, his lips quivering.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie said, narrowing his eyes, “obviously it’s– Buck, who else would it be? It’s always been you.” And maybe that was a bit too telling, but Eddie couldn’t help it. It was hard to keep how he was feeling inside when faced with Buck’s insecurities. He wanted to smother them in his love, convince Buck he was worth more than he thought. He was worth everything.

Which– was maybe a weird thing for him to be thinking about his best friend, but Eddie had decided the previous night that he didn’t really care. It was Buck, Buck was different.

Buck was staring at him, mouth slightly agape. “I– really?”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly, knowing Buck needed the reassurance more than anything. He kicked Buck’s foot gently with his own under the table, leaving them pressed together.

Buck continued to watch him in awe, his eyes glistening with oncoming tears. Desperate to get that look off his face, Eddie knocked their feet together a bit harder, his tone teasing as he said, “Who else would help me bring in all my things?”

Buck let out a quiet laugh at that, shaking his head. “I see how it is. You just want me around for my huge muscles and willingness to help,” he teased, tangling his ankles with Eddie’s as he flexed dramatically.

And– well. Maybe Eddie’s eyes caught on Buck’s arms for a second, but really he couldn’t be blamed for that– Buck had somehow gotten even larger while Eddie was in Texas, it wasn’t weird to look at the change in his friend!

Forcing his eyes downward, Eddie scarfed down the rest of his breakfast. He couldn’t afford to be… distracted, right now. The U-Haul had to be returned by five– they needed to get a move on.

Buck and Christopher stayed home when Eddie went to return the U-Haul, Buck fawning over Christopher’s new PS5 and insisting they play some games together.

That meant Eddie had time to think during the drive to the lot, and he finally came to a decision– 

He needed Bobby’s help.

With a quick text to Buck saying there was a line at the return station, Eddie was on his way to Bobby’s house with his stomach roiling nervously. 

It wasn’t like anything bad was actually going to happen– Eddie just needed some reassurance that he wasn’t going crazy. His hands flexing on the wheel, Eddie anxiously checked the time. He couldn’t be gone too long without Buck and Christopher getting suspicious, so he just needed to hope Bobby was home and the talk would go quickly.

Pulling up to Bobby’s house still felt odd; the only time he had seen the new house had been the previous day when they were carting Christopher around to say hello to everyone, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to really take it in.

Honestly, he still didn’t take it in, walking quickly up the front path and knocking on the front door. One of these days he was going to have Bobby give him a tour of the place– maybe during the next family barbecue. For now, he was a man on a mission.

The door opened to Bobby’s concerned face, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in the lack of Buck and Chris behind Eddie.

“Eddie? What’s–”

“I need your help,” Eddie rushed out, stepping into the house eagerly when Bobby opened the door wider.

Bobby closed up behind them, leading Eddie into the living room and sitting him down on the couch. “Okay. What’s going on? Is it your parents?”

Which– it probably should be his parents, right? He had just gone through hell with them in Texas, but really he hadn’t had to deal with them much in the last few months. Besides, the whole blow up with them was probably a long time coming.

Buck, on the other hand– well, Eddie’s sudden fixation on how he was feeling about Buck was new. New, and scary.

“No, no, it’s– I think I just need to talk through some things? About– about Buck.”

At that, Bobby sat up straighter, his eyes flashing with alarm. “Is Buck alright? Are you two having a hard time living together already?” He sounded shocked, as if the thought of Buck and Eddie struggling to coexist wasn’t something he had ever considered. Which was understandable, really, as Eddie hadn’t ever thought of it either.

“We’re living together fine!” Eddie insisted, running a hand through his hair and staring at a point on the wall behind Bobby’s left ear, “It’s kind of perfect, honestly– it feels like a dream, like it’s everything I’ve ever wanted– I think maybe that’s the problem?”

Bobby leaned back, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knee. “Explain,” he said slowly, amusement spreading across his face.

“He’s just– everywhere, you know? It’s technically his house right now, so that makes sense, but I swear just being in any room right now feels like I’m constantly getting a hug. Which should be good, right? But– Bobby, I don’t know what that means. It must just be ‘cause we’re best friends, right?” Eddie rushed out, desperation coloring his voice.

“Could be,” Bobby said agreeably, the corners of his lips twitching, “is that all?”

“We’ve kind of been sharing a bed?” Eddie said, the last few words pitching up like a question. “And I like it, I think. But that must just be ‘cause I’ve been sleeping alone for so long– anyone would probably make me feel better.”

“Eddie,” Bobby said slowly, a gentle smile on his face, “do you think you would feel the same way if you were sharing a bed with, say… Chimney?”

“I don’t even want to think about sharing a bed with Chimney,” Eddie said immediately, his nose scrunching. “But that’s different! Buck is my best friend.”

Bobby sighed, a hand raising briefly to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Eddie,” he said again, his tone turning long-suffering, “before you and Shannon got together, how would you have described your relationship?”

“Shannon was my best friend.” The reply was easy, instantaneous– anytime he spoke of Shannon, he said the same thing– they were perfect as friends, they just couldn’t seem to make a relationship work.

Oh no.

Oh no.

“Bobby, am I in love with Buck?”

The idea was harder to shoot down than it should be. He couldn’t be in love with Buck, right? That would ruin everything. He had only just gotten Christopher back– what would the kid do if Eddie chased Buck off too?

For some reason the rebuttal of I’m not gay didn’t even cross his mind, but he wasn’t going to look too far into that one.

“I can’t answer that question for you,” Bobby said kindly, a hand raising to grab Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. Eddie sank into the feeling without a thought, the comforting warmth of Bobby’s arms doing something to soothe him. It was like– like getting a hug from a dad. “Just think– how do you feel when he isn’t there? How do you feel when he is there, and he’s happy, and his laughter fills the room?”

Eddie’s chest grew warm just at the thought, his mind conjuring up the sound of Buck’s laughter from earlier that day, the sound ringing throughout the halls as Eddie struggled to put his furniture back together.

“I don’t think I’m looking forward to sleeping alone tonight,” Eddie said eventually, knowing the words were as close to an admission as he was likely to get.

“Maybe you should tell him that,” Bobby replied, finally pulling back. “Go on, Eddie. You’ve got this.”

Bobby was a damn liar. Eddie did not ‘got this.’

The end of the day came faster than he was ready for, Christopher heading off to play games with his friends in his room with a soft goodnight. 

Buck was hovering awkwardly by the couch, a small frown on his face as he avoided Eddie’s eyes. Sighing, Eddie leaned against the wall beside the hallway, taking in Buck’s nervous shuffling.

He opened his mouth, closing it again when he realized he still hadn’t thought of a way to ask Buck to keep sleeping in the bedroom again. Out of time and out of options, Eddie did the only thing he could think of.

Grabbing Buck by the elbow and dragging him into the bedroom maybe wasn’t the most dignified thing to do, but it got the job done. Buck followed behind him easily, a soft sigh of relief leaving him as they made it into the room.

Eddie changed into a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top quickly, turning to find Buck comfortably wrapped up in a hoodie, a fond smile rising to his face at the sight. Buck’s tendency to get cold at night was just another thing on the endless list of his endearing qualities. Really, Eddie couldn’t be blamed for having a crisis about the man.

He got into bed wordlessly, Buck following soon after. He scooted a bit closer, unable to help himself. If he could just–

“What’s going on, Eddie?” Buck asked suddenly, turning on his side to face him. Eddie remained on his back, not quite ready to look Buck in the eyes.

“What’s going on with you, Buck,” he shot back, careful to keep his voice gentle, “you’ve been acting kind of– weird. And you still haven’t told me what the hell happened with you and Tommy.”

Buck groaned, burying his face into his pillow briefly. “Are you really still on that?” he grumbled.

“Yes, Buck,” Eddie teased, watching the other man out of the corner of his eye, “you’ve been acting different ever since then. I want to know why.” And maybe he wanted to know for sure that Tommy was never coming back into their lives– he really thought that when they broke up he would never have to deal with the man again, especially after he caught the hint when Eddie ignored his third text in a row.

“He said some stuff,” Buck said vaguely, the same bullshit answer he had been giving for months.

Exasperated, Eddie finally turned his head to meet Buck’s eyes. “I figured, yeah. He’s not the kind of guy to go an entire night without talking. What did he say that got you so squirrelly, though?”

Eddie could see the moment Buck finally gave in, his lips pursing. “He made some assumptions about– about us.”

“About… us?” Eddie said slowly, confusion growing within him.

What the hell could Tommy have to say about him and Buck, anyway? The man hardly even knew Buck six months into their relationship, surely he didn’t have some big realization–

“He called you the competition,” Buck blurted out, his face flushing a deep red.

Oh.

Okay, maybe Tommy had worked some things out.

“He… what?” Eddie asked blankly, his thoughts running through his head a mile a minute.

“I think he thought I was in love with you?”

All the activity in Eddie’s head came to a screeching halt, the words he thought I was in love with you playing on repeat. Tommy thought that Buck was in love with him. Holy shit. Maybe Tommy Kinard could actually be right about something.

Eddie scooted closer, the bed creaking faintly underneath him.

“And you–”

“Obviously I’m not!” Buck rushed to reassure him, as if the words weren’t sending a cold shock through Eddie’s ribs, “I mean, you’re straight! Of course I’m not– not in love with you.” His voice died out into uncertainty at the end, and the unsure look on his face was the only thing that gave Eddie the bravery he needed to speak up.

“What if… what if I wasn’t?” he asked softly, turning onto his side to see Buck better, their faces inches apart. 

Buck’s breathing stuttered in his chest, his eyes widening as they darted across Eddie’s face searchingly. “Eddie,” he warned, “don’t do this. Not if you’re– if you’re not sure.”

“The only thing I’ve ever been more sure of was Christopher,” Eddie promised, raising a hand to tentatively grasp at where Buck’s was resting in front of his chest. “Ok, well– I’m not actually sure what my sexuality is, but I’m sure about you, Buck.”

A laugh bubbled out of Buck’s chest, his forehead tipping forward to rest against Eddie’s.

The point of contact was enough to soothe Eddie’s racing heart, a slow breath leaving him. He couldn’t really believe this was happening, couldn’t believe Buck might actually–

“To be clear, you are actually in love with me, right?” Eddie asked bluntly, wincing at himself.

“Eddie,” Buck breathed, his eyes fluttering shut, “I think I’ve been in love with you since the day you showed up at the 118.”

Snorting out a laugh, Eddie leaned in closer, the tips of their noses brushing. “You hated me that first day,” he reminded Buck gently, his heart hammering away in his chest.

“Nah,” Buck whispered, “I thought you were stupidly hot and competent and it pissed me off.” His breaths ghosted over Eddie’s lips as he spoke, a trail of liquid heat dripping down Eddie’s spine.

Eddie closed his eyes, sinking into the moment. It was perfect– an owl hooting outside the window but the night otherwise still, just the two of them in a little bubble. This certainly hadn’t been what he had been picturing when he invited Buck to share the bed with him the first night– his dismissive words about Buck not being in love with him still haunting him.

“Well,” he said eventually, gasping sharply as his lips brushed against Buck’s, “that’s good to hear.”

Unable to take it anymore, Eddie tipped his chin up the last inch, their lips finally crashing together.

Somehow, it was both everything and nothing like what he had expected. 

Kissing Buck was incredible, don’t get him wrong– the warmth of the other man against him comforting, the slide of his lips exhilarating, the small noises he made– well. It just… wasn’t as different as Eddie had expected it to be, honestly. Part of him was sure that everything would just click, that he would kiss Buck and have a sudden realization about his entire life, but–

Nothing clicked, nothing changed, it all just settled.

Buck rolling on top of him, changing the angle of their kiss, pressing their chests together– it wasn’t groundbreaking, it was like coming home. The last shreds of the person he had been forced to become for his parents, the person he had almost returned to being in Texas, melted away with one kiss from Buck.

By the time they separated, Eddie was gasping for air and feeling more himself than he had in– ever, honestly. 

“That good?” Buck asked, his breathing just as heavy as Eddie’s despite the relatively tame kiss. 

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered, gaze caught on Buck’s eyes, the blue brought out by the redness in his cheeks and shining lips. “That was– that was perfect, Buck.”

Grinning, Buck collapsed on top of him, air rushing out of Eddie’s lungs at the weight of the other man pressing against him. “Jesus, Buck,” he wheezed, laughing despite himself, “you comfy there?”

“Very,” Buck said happily, his nose digging into the side of Eddie’s neck, “you’re warm.”

Eddie smiled dopily up at the ceiling, his arms coming up around Buck, clutching his best friend– boyfriend?-- partner– to his chest. “Well, as long as you’re–”

He was cut off with a soft groan as Buck suddenly dug his teeth into the soft skin just beneath his jaw, grinning into the skin there when he pulled back.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked cheekily, pressing kisses down Eddie’s neck.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but only air came out as his mind filled with static at the feeling of one of Buck’s canines digging into his skin. “Buck,” he managed warningly, carefully pushing the man back. “We should talk first.”

That had Buck off of him in an instant, Eddie immediately mourning his closeness. “Hold on!” he rushed out, grabbing at Buck, “Not like that! I just– what are we?”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Buck settled back onto the mattress beside him, his head falling onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Christ, Eddie– I don’t know. I would like to date, if you want that? You’ve gotta know that you’re it for me, man.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathed out, his lips pulling up into a smile, “I know you did not just call me man at the end of that.”

“Shut up!” Buck complained, pinching at Eddie’s waist in retaliation, “do you want to date me or not?”

“Obviously I want to date you,” Eddie murmured, dragging Buck’s hand up to his kiss to press a kiss to it.

Because seriously– how could he not want to date Buck?

“Uh, not obvious!” Buck said plaintively, raising himself to look down at Eddie incredulously, “I thought you were straight until literally like twenty minutes ago!”

Eddie laughed loudly, shoving a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. “Not my fault you’re blind!” he retaliated, choosing to ignore the fact that he also thought he was straight until Bobby practically whacked him upside the head with simple facts.

Clearly tiring of his antics, Buck rolled back on top of him, expertly shutting him up with another long kiss. 

If this was what he was going to get to do for the rest of his life– spending the day with his boys, ending it with teasing Buck until the other man got tired of it and just kissed him– the future was looking pretty good.

If someone had told him a few months ago that he would be here, with Buck in bed with him and Christopher down the hall, Eddie wouldn’t have believed them for a second. He had expected to stay in Texas fighting against his parents' passive-aggressive (or maybe just straight up aggressive) attempts to keep his son away from him for the better part of the year. 

Eddie was not going to complain about what had happened instead.