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“We find ourselves in the midst of an ocean of emotions. It’s not easy to say goodbye, especially to a man like Robert Nash. He was so aptly described as a mentor, a father, a husband, and a best friend. His passing leaves a profound void, yet his spirit continues to surround and guide us.”
The celebrant’s words hit Buck like a spoonful of lemon sherbert - tasteless and empty. Logically, he knows it’s in his job description to embellish. While all true, Bobby isn’t a man to be defined by what he did for others. He is—was —a whole person. He was made up of those roles because of the person he was, not the other way around. Plus, who is he to say how everyone’s feeling? Of course they’re emotional. Athena lost the love of her life. Buck lost his best friend next to Eddie, who—
… is currently nudging him. How long has he been doing that?
“Evan Buckley? Does anyone know where Evan Buckley is?”
Right, he must’ve been in his head again. He’s been doing a lot of that since Bobby’s death. What was the days of Buck’s endless random facts and teasing is now the internalization of every emotion under the sun.
And he has to try and condense all of it and his love for Bobby into a single speech.
As he rises from his seat, so does Eddie’s hand. He places his hand on Buck’s shoulder in a way that doesn’t impede him from standing; moreso just a moment to pause and for Eddie to give him that look and small nod that says everything without saying a word. God, he loves him.
Once at the podium, Buck scans the crowd. It’s evident everyone’s looking through him rather than at him, especially Athena, once full of determination and fire now looking hopeless and so cold she may as well be with her husband in that coffin. Normally, he’d be triggered by being ignored, but today it feels almost comforting. Public speaking has never been his forte and that’s not about to change.
“Uh, good morning…” Buck flinches as the mic, the loudest thing in the small space of people, gives feedback. “Sorry, I, uh, haven’t lost many people—or anyone, really—close to me so I’m not sure how these things are supposed to go. When I was looking through and watching examples of other people’s speeches, I felt like I was being disingenuous. Not because I don’t feel everything those people felt for their loved ones—actually, I felt all of it—and I have plenty of stories that highlight Bobby’s character, but it’s not enough to perfectly encapsulate all of what we lost. No speech will change anything, either. We will all leave here feeling the same way as when we came, and that’s—”
Buck fights the tears pushing at the base of his already sore eyes. “That’s the price we pay, I guess, for loving someone so deeply.”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath, surprised as a shaky laugh escapes him as he adds, “I… I don’t know what else to say except thank you all for coming, I guess.”
His laugh isn’t the only shaky thing, though. His body starts to tingle and his knees start to give out.
Where Eddie takes an inch forward, Tommy takes a full leap. Then everything goes black.
⚰️🕊
Buck stirs to the familiar sound and feel of Tommy. He’s cradling his head and supporting his lower back with his other hand and alternating between “Easy, kid,” and “You’re okay, I’m here.” Around Tommy are Athena, Eddie, Hen, Maddie, and Chimney sharing looks of concern and unease. Right, because even at a funeral, Buck has to make it about himself.
He scrambles to stand up, much to the protest of everyone. Hen’s telling him she needs to check his vitals, Chimney and Maddie are pleading with him to take it easy, Athena has one hand on her cell with what Buck’s sure is 9-1-1 at the ready, and Eddie’s repeating his name over and over, like a mantra of sorts.
But he never lets Tommy let go of him. He can’t or he’ll start to slip again.
“I can’t—I—”
Tommy just nods. “Let’s get you out of here.”
⚰️🕊
It’s a blur how Buck gets back to Eddie’s house. All he knows is Tommy is close behind him, hand on the small of Buck’s lower back again, guiding him forward.
A knock that can only come from that of a seasoned officer makes itself known.
Tommy sits up and moves to the door and before he can even turn around, Buck says, “Athena, I’m sorry, I—”
As Athena rounds the corner, she also raises her hand and her eyes soften just a bit. It’s nice to see. “Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for. Hell, I wish I could’ve left.”
“You didn’t have to,” Buck insists.
“Before Bobby died,” another voice comes through: Chim, “I asked him to promise me to take care of my family. That promise doesn’t end with my family.”
“You are my family,” Maddie joins in. “I made you a promise I wouldn’t leave you behind again.”
“That’s right,” Hen says, joining Maddie, Chimney, and Athena. “You’ll always be a priority, Buck.”
Buck nods, but something’s—some one —is missing from the lineup. “Where’s Eddie?”
Athena and Maddie share a look.
“What?”
Athena motions for Maddie to speak with a small nod, so she does. “Eddie’s outside.”
“Outside?” Buck repeats. “Why is he outside?”
Maddie doesn’t answer him. Instead, she says, “I think you should talk to him.”
Buck shakes his head, then turns to Tommy, who has since moved to sit back down next to Buck on the couch. Tommy just shrugs, but Buck can tell it’s a bit forced. “He’s your best friend. Go talk to him.”
Buck doesn’t waste anymore time standing up and moving for the door. When he doesn’t see Eddie on the porch, he starts walking towards the sidewalk on the side of the home. Confused but determined, he retraces his steps, this time moving in the direction of the front lawn. There, past Christopher's room to his own, leaning against the outside wall closest to the edge of the home, is the man in question.
“Eddie?”
Eddie looks up, but it almost seems forced and it’s brief the closer Buck gets to him.
“Eddie, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Is—” Buck’s eyes widen. “Is Christopher okay?” He didn’t even notice Christopher in the crowd at the funeral. God, how could he be so absent-minded? He should be able to hold it together.
“You’re doing it again.” It’s Buck’s turn to look up at Eddie, who’s cracking a small smile. “You didn’t ignore him, Buck, and no, he’s okay.”
Buck shakes his head. “Then what’s…?”
Eddie lifts himself from the wall. “Buck, I missed it.”
“Oh, Eddie—”
Eddie holds up a hand. “I don’t just mean Bobby. I mean you.”
Buck cocks his head. “What do you—?”
“I mean I missed you,” Eddie repeats, moving closer. “I missed being there for you. I know I’ve been states away, but I haven’t been there for you emotionally like I should be, and that—” Eddie draws in a breath but like Buck’s earlier, it’s shaky. “That makes me angry . Irrationally angry.”
“Well hey, it shouldn’t, okay?” Buck says, taking a step closer. “You’ve been doing the best you can. Your main focus is Christopher, as it should always be.”
It’s like they’re doing a dance they’re making up as they go because Eddie takes a step back and turns his body away ever so slightly. “No. No, that’s not an excuse.”
“Eddie—”
“Buck, you’re my best friend . I’ve exhausted myself trying to drill into you how much you mean to me over the years just for me to disappear. It’s not fair to you.”
“Hey, we talked through this,” Buck says, attempting a small step forward. “I don’t blame you at all.”
“Is he still in there?”
Buck blinks a few times before it hits him. “Who, Tommy? Yes, he’s still there.”
“What, are you two back together?”
“No, we—”
Eddie folds his arms across his chest and swivels his body further from him. It takes Buck another moment before that too hits him—How couldn’t it? He acted this way once before—and Buck takes another cautious step forward. “You’re jealous.”
“Of course I’m jealous, Buck,” Eddie snaps. “He’s been there for you when I couldn’t be. He also…”
“What?” Buck probes.
“He also knows you in a way I’ve wanted to for years.”
Of course, Buck thinks, because when he was jealous of Eddie, it was because Eddie was getting all of Tommy’s attention, who he had a crush on. How could he be so thick?
It feels like it’s happening all over again, Buck’s world crashing around him. But this… this is a good kind of crashing. Like one of those corny home renovation shows, the foundation had to go to make room for a new beginning, one Buck is… well, enthused about.
Maybe he never had a crush on Tommy. At least not like he thought. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be.
“Eddie… me too.”
Eddie lifts his head but doesn’t turn around fully, just makes a slight adjustment with his head. “What?”
“I want to be with you in that way, too.”
Eddie finally turns around. He’s much closer than Buck thought he’d be, and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
Eddie raises a finger. “Don’t jinx me again.”
“Hey now, it was my heart attack.”
“Same difference,” Eddie says. “At least you’ve always had mine.”
Buck’s grin is wide as he nods. “Yeah… yeah.”
“Can I—?”
“Please.”
Buck doesn’t know how long they’re kissing before he starts laughing— genuinely laughing—for the first time in a good few weeks.
“What?”
Buck just shakes his head but his forehead doesn’t leave Eddie’s as he says, “Bobby would kill us if he knew we were making out the same day as his funeral service.”
Eddie laughs along with him. “Is it bad of me to say I’m glad he’s not here right now?”
Buck pinches his index finger to his thumb in jest. Eddie lightly pushes him away only to pull him right back in.
They say there’s birth after death, and maybe this is just that. That’s what Buck likes to think, anyway, as he sets a portrait of Bobby on Eddie’s— their— mantle.