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by act of grace

Summary:

He opens it and thinks maybe he never woke up at all. Maybe he's lost his mind.

“B- Bobby?” He chokes out, his heart dropping six feet under, while reckless, treacherous hope rises up his throat, sparks and flares in his insides.

Bobby doesn't seem even the slightest bit affected, though. He looks a little older, with a few more gray hairs and wrinkles around the eyes than Buck remembered… but he looks healthy, happy. Alive.

“Hey, kid.”

 

or;
Buck wakes up years into the future— one where he gets everything he ever wanted. And he's not about to complain.

Notes:

idk what this is. this is just... fluff. happiness. everyone getting the ending they deserve. don't try to make sense of it, okay??

Work Text:

Buck feels himself slowly wake up, starts becoming aware of his face pressed against the pillow, the brush of the sheets over his skin, the morning light gently streaming through the window— and yet, he only feels dread. 

Lately, it's been getting harder and harder to wake up and get out of bed. Bobby's death is still too fresh, like a raw bruise right in the center of his chest, tender and painful, that makes his ribs hurt and his heart tighten uncomfortably.  Just the thought of it brings tears to his eyes, so he presses them shut harder and groans as he tries to melt into the mattress. 

He has to get up, though, has to call Maddie, check on Chimney, take some baked goods to Athena (even if it won't help, he just has to do something. Anything. )

“Morning,” A mumbled sigh and a hand coming to wrap around his waist startle Buck, making him jump in place and almost have an actual heart attack. His eyes open and he blinks the blurriness away, the image slowly coming into focus. 

“E– Eds?” Buck rubs a hand down his face and shakes his head. Did something happen? 

He tries to rewind in his mind, but the last memory he has is… of Bobby's funeral, and even that is sort of hazy, like a distant nightmare that's slowly fading away into darkness. Did Chimney give him the rest of the vodka to drink? Did he get so wasted out of his mind that he can't even remember drinking anything in the first place? The idea makes him nauseous… although that might also be the hangover, he isn't sure. 

“It's still early,” Eddie gumbles, tightening his grip on Buck and pulling him closer, his lips brushing against Buck's neck and shoulder, his warm breath fanning against his skin and making goosebumps rise. “Let's enjoy it while Liv still lets us.” 

“Liv?” Who the hell is Liv? Buck thinks, trying not to panic more than he already is, as his heart jackhammers in his chest and he feels like an ax is splitting his jugular in half, making it hard to swallow the lump forming in his throat. 

He looks at Eddie, soft and warm and cuddling Buck like it's the most natural thing in the universe, the small quirk of his lips and his messy hair… it's a fantasy Buck's had a lot, an image that's slowly starting to creep up on him since Tommy and Maddie’s comments, but he never wanted it like this. Never like this. Not now. Not when everyone's practically drowning in anger and grief and regret. 

Buck grunts as he sits up in bed, gently pushing Eddie off him. “Eds, lo—” Whatever sorry excuse he was about to make dies out on his tongue, the doorbell cutting him off. “I'll get it,” he breathes out in relief as he rushes out of bed, nearly falling face straight to the floor when his feet tangle in the sheets. 

Thankfully, he has some sleep shorts on and he grabs a tank top from the floor, running out the room like it's a burning house. He just needs a minute to… process. 

Buck’s breath is shallow as he bolts down the hallway, hand gripping the edge of the wall to steady himself, his thoughts still a chaotic tangle. 

His bare feet slap softly against the hardwood floor, and when he reaches the front door, he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his hands from trembling as he reaches for the knob.

He opens it and thinks maybe he never woke up at all. Maybe he's lost his mind. 

“B- Bobby?” He chokes out, his heart dropping six feet under, while reckless, treacherous hope rises up his throat, sparks and flares in his insides. 

Bobby doesn't seem even the slightest bit affected, though. He looks a little older, with a few more gray hairs and wrinkles around the eyes than Buck remembered… but he looks healthy, happy. Alive. 

“Hey, kid.” He greets him casually as he steps around Buck and walks inside the house, Buck closing the door behind him slowly, as if any sudden movement could make the moment crumble and disappear. “Is Liv up yet?”

“Uh…” 

“That's okay. Gives me plenty of time to make breakfast. No offense, but Grandpa Bobby's pancakes are so much better than yours.” He moves towards the kitchen and that's when Buck realizes he's not even home. The place is different, spacious and homey but not somewhere he's been before. 

Still, he trails after Bobby like a lost, confused puppy. 

“You can help me, though.” 

“You're supposed to be dead.” Buck whispers, voice hoarse and cracking, low enough even he has trouble hearing himself. 

He stares in a state of shock and uncertainty as Bobby moves around the kitchen effortlessly, getting bowls and ingredients like he's been doing it for years. Buck doesn't even know where they are or what's going on. 

He starts to feel lightheaded and has to lean against the counter to steady himself, his legs threatening to give up on him.

He can't take this. He wants to stay here forever, but waking up to a world where Bobby actually isn't there will be just that much harder. This feels so… real, though, Buck wants to fall to his knees and cry from gratitude and relief, even if all of it is a lie. 

The sudden topsy turvy twist of his grasp of reality steals his breath away and he wheezes out a gasp that sounds thin and brittle to his own ears.

“You're supposed to be dead.” He repeats, louder and clearer. Bobby freezes mid way through cracking an egg and his eyebros raise sky high. 

“Buck?” 

“You— How?” 

In a second, understanding dawns on Bobby and his entire being softens as he leaves the egg shells on the counter and walks around until his hand is on Buck’s shoulder, heavy and warm and grounding him into this fever dream. 

“You had a nightmare?” 

“It felt like it.” He frowns and blinks rapidly, trying to chase the sting of tears away. “But you— I saw you— The funeral—” 

“Hey, it's okay, kid. It's okay.” Bobby practically coos at him, his voice so steady and comforting that Buck is powerless to do anything but melt into the hug he's pulled into. He breathes in and can smell Bobby's cologne— an earthy, woodsy scent that he knows Athena gave him for his last birthday. With a hint of vanilla and so uniquely Bobby from spending most of his free time cooking, that Buck can almost believe the tragedy from a few weeks ago never happened. 

“You're here,” he murmurs, voice breaking as he buries his head on Bobby's shoulder. “You're here.” Buck clings to Bobby's clothes like his life depends on it. He feels so tangible, so warm. more than his imagination ever conjured before. 

Bobby chuckles, bemused as he pats Buck's back. “Where else would I be? That must have been a pretty bad nightmare, huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

It wasn't. Not really. Buck knows with every cell in his body that it was real, and he knows the trip back to reality will hit him like a fucking wall of bricks— but he lets himself bask in this moment of insanity, or this dream, for now. He intends to enjoy every second he gets of this weird, strange hallucination he's having or whatever the hell else is going on. 

He doesn't even know how long they stand there for. Bobby is the first to pull away, giving Buck one of his smiles— the one that's very Captain Dad , and one he's familiar with. And he feels happy, but also he aches with the knowledge that someday he'll have trouble remembering it, that with time he'll start to forget all the little details he loves about Bobby until he's nothing but a distant memory. 

“Your husband still in bed?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie?” 

“Eddie's my husband?” Buck has to restrain himself from yelling. 

“I sure hope I am. Spent a kidney and a half on that wedding,” Eddie speaks from behind, kissing Buck's cheek and playfully slapping him on the ass as he walks past him. His tone is sleepy, but teasing and so damn happy Buck hopes he'll remember this dream for months to come. 

“Oh,” he says oh so intelligently. 

“Are you okay? You've been a little off this morning,” Eddie turns to him and presses the back of his hand to Buck’s forehead, like he's seen him do with Chris before. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“Uh, I have a, um, headache.” 

Eddie frowns and him and Bobby immediately turn to him in concern. 

“It's fine. It'll pass.” 

“You think you'll be up for tonight?”

A loud thud from the hallway interrupts them and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Someone’s awake.” He chuckles and squeezes Buck's hand as he leaves the room. A few minutes later he reappears with a little girl on his hip. 

She can't be older than six or seven, and her hair looks like a bird's nest, but she's hugging Eddie and giggling like there's no tomorrow. Buck immediately feels her tugging at his heartstrings and fondness spread through him like liquid gold. 

“Daddy!” 

And yeah, Buck definitely doesn't want to ever wake up from this dream. 

The little girl— Liv?— makes grabby hands towards Buck, but then sees Bobby in the kitchen and her excitement  grows ten times bigger as she squeals. “Grandpa Bobby!” 

Buck watches, dumbfounded, as the little girl wiggles out of Eddie’s hold and runs across the room, her tiny feet slapping against the floor as she throws herself at Bobby like a cannonball. Bobby catches her with a practiced ease, spinning her around once before setting her down and dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

“Hey there, princess,” he laughs, and Buck can’t remember the last time he heard Bobby laugh like that—full-bodied and easy, like he doesn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You sleep okay?”

“I had a dream about a dragon! And you were there, and Daddy, and Pops too,” she babbles, glancing toward Buck with a bright smile that could power the entire city. “But the dragon wasn’t mean.” 

“Well,” Bobby chuckles, ruffling her hair, “I'm glad it was a good dragon. Wanna help make pancakes?” 

Liv nods enthusiastically, dragging a chair over to the counter like she’s done it a hundred times before. Bobby helps her climb up, and together they start cracking eggs—she smashes one a little too hard, making the shell bits go into the batter, and Bobby doesn’t even flinch. He just grins and patiently picks them out, murmuring, “That’s okay, try again.”

Buck sways where he stands, one hand gripping the edge of the table as the domestic scene unfolds like a painting—vivid, warm, and impossible.

“Daddy?” Liv calls out without looking, “You’re not helping!”

Buck swallows hard, the word hitting him like a punch to the chest. Daddy. She means him.

Eddie, who’s just stepped beside him again, squeezes Buck’s shoulder. “Hey, are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“We need you in top shape for tonight.” 

“W-What's tonight again?” 

“Daddy,” Liv giggles. “Don't be silly.”

“It's Olivia's dance recital.” Eddie frowns and cups Buck's cheek, this time looking more serious. “Are you sure you're fine?” 

“I, uh, I think I just need to lay down for a bit.” Buck says weakly. 

Eddie’s frown deepens, and his thumb brushes gently over Buck’s cheekbone in a way that makes Buck’s heart ache and swell all at once. “Okay. Yeah. Go rest. I’ll finish up here with Liv and Bobby.”

Buck nods mutely and steps back, stumbling slightly as if the ground isn’t quite stable beneath his feet. He throws one last glance at the kitchen—at the impossible image of Bobby and Liv laughing over pancake batter, at Eddie giving him that look, the one filled with love and concern and absolute certainty—and then turns and walks down the hall.

The bedroom is just as unfamiliar as the rest of the house, but there are little touches everywhere—family photos that paint a pretty vivid picture of a life Buck would die for. Pictures of a grown up Christopher in a graduation gown, posing for the photo in between Buck and Eddie, family dinners, Buck looking down at a tiny baby in his arms, a wedding picture where Buck and Eddie are showing off their rings for the camera… it's all a little dizzying in the best way possible. 

There’s a framed photo on the dresser, and Buck pauses to pick it up with trembling fingers.

It’s him and Eddie, both wearing tuxes, looking flushed and giddy, cake smeared across Buck’s cheek. Eddie’s arms are around him, tight and possessive, and Buck’s smile is wide, radiant, unguarded in a way he hasn’t seen in photos of himself for a long time. Behind them stands Bobby, laughing, Athena tucked against his side. Chim and Hen are blurry in the background, raising glasses. Maddie’s teary-eyed, clutching Jee-Yun to her chest. It looks like the happiest day of his life.

He puts it back on its place and then lays back on the bed, but doesn't really relax or even close his eyes. Truth be told, he's terrified that if he drifts off even the slightest, he'll open his eyes back and wake up back in reality, where his life is looking dreary and painful. 

He lays there for God knows how long, until Eddie softly knocks on the door and tells him quietly that breakfast is ready. He kisses Buck and brushes gentle fingers through his hair— he sees a few gray hairs on Eddie here and there, but he still looks pretty damn good. 

Buck lurches forward and kisses him like he's been craving for… years, if he's honest with himself. sliding his hands around to lock behind Eddie’s back. Eddie turns them around and backs Buck to the bed, sitting down in his lap and licking into his mouth.

They don’t do more than kiss, of course, but by the time they finally break apart, Buck is pleasantly breathless and much more than a little in love with Eddie.

“Feeling better?” 

“Mhmm, yeah.” He grins and nods. 

“Let's go then. Liv is going to finish all the pancakes by herself if we don't hurry.” 

 

—



Buck keeps waiting to wake up, but it never happens. They have breakfast and he just stares at how Bobby is with Olivia, how good of a grandpa he would've been, how loving and caring he would've been. 

Athena joins them halfway through and is a stark contrast from the last time he saw her. There's no bags under her eyes, no sunken cheeks or anger and grief on every inch of her face. She looks relaxed, well rested, a smile lights up her entire face— one that was rare even before the virus shit happened. 

Liv calls her Grandma ‘Thena, and she laughs and jokes around in a way Buck's never seen before. 

She leans against Bobby, kisses his cheek, praises his pancakes— It's all so domestic and blissful . 

They talk about Christopher and his new job (Buck doesn't add much to the conversation, just smiles and nods and feels content that his dream also includes Chris.) They talk about May and her engagement, about Hen's newest hobby, about Liv's school and her friends. 

Buck doesn’t say much throughout breakfast—he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack or give away how fragile he feels. He just soaks it all in like a sponge, trying to memorize every smile, every laugh, every ridiculous inside joke. The way Bobby rolls his eyes fondly when Liv makes a mess. The way Eddie reaches over to clean syrup off her cheek without missing a beat. The way Athena squeezes Bobby’s hand when he gets a little too animated telling a story.

It’s everything Buck ever wanted and never dared believe he could have. It’s everything he lost—no, was stolen from him. And it’s right here, around him, like it’s always been this way.

It feels like home.

At one point, Liv climbs into his lap without asking and leans her tiny, syrup-sticky hands on his chest, squishing his cheeks between her palms.

“Daddy,” she says solemnly, “you have to braid my hair before the recital or it won’t be lucky.”

Buck blinks at her. “Lucky?”

She nods, her curls bouncing. “You did it before the school play and I didn’t forget any steps. So now it’s the rule.”

“Well, if it's a rule.” He chuckles. Athena and Bobby say they'll tidy up while Eddie says he needs to go run some errands, leaving Buck to fend for himself with Olivia. 

He takes her to the bathroom where he washes her hands carefully and methodically and then props her on top of a stool, frowning down at her hair. He learnt how to braid hair once upon a time, when Maddie was a teenager— but he's forgotten most of it. Jee never really liked braids, so… yeah. 

Surprisingly, though, muscle memory must be a hell of a force, because his fingers move almost on their own, and before he knows it, he’s done and Liv is jumping in place, clapping and saying “thank you” repeatedly. 

Buck barely has time to clean up the hair ties and brush before Olivia is sprinting toward the living room, yelling, “Grandma ‘Thena! Look!”

He follows at a slower pace, just in time to see Athena crouch down and admire the braid like it’s a masterpiece, smoothing her hand over Olivia’s hair with a proud little nod.

“You look perfect, baby,” she says, then turns her gaze to Buck. “Nice work, Dad.” 

Buck puffs out his chest, proud of his work. 

Athena says she'll take Olivia out for a girls day with Jee, Maddie and Hen, so then Buck is alone with Bobby. 

The entire day, Buck spends it asking Bobby a million questions, all the things he never did when he was alive and that he regretted not asking when he was alive. Bobby definitely gives him a few weird looks but indulges him, and for that Buck is grateful. 

“I still can't believe you're retired,” he says as they sit in the backyard and drink lemonade. 

“It's been years, Buck.” 

“Yeah, but—” He swallows hard and looks down, twirling the glass between his hands just for something to do. “You'll always be my Captain, Bobby. I mean, you're the best. Work will never be the same without you,” he says genuinely, feeling himself getting choked up for the millionth time in the day. 

“C'mon, kid. It's not like I died. ” Bobby chuckles and shakes his head. 

“No, yeah. Right.” Buck shakes it off. Sadness isn't allowed in dreams. “I just— I love you. You're the dad I never had,” he says and smiles wearily. His father is not even half the man Bobby is— was— Buck knows that for sure. 

“C'mon, don't get all emotional on me now.” Bobby says, even if his voice is the slightest be strained a d thick with emotion itself. “We still have to prepare for lunch.” 

They get to cook together, just the two of them, just like they always do used to do at the station. It's a simple recipe, something quick and easy, but Buck forces himself to be in the moment, to soak in every single detail and commit it to memory. 

At some point, Eddie comes back with coffee and sits on the counter, watching them both move around and help in just the basics, smirking teasingly everytime Buck passes him, and pulling him in for stolen kisses here and there, much to Bobby's dismay. 

Chim and Ravi drop by and Buck can notice subtle differences in them as well— small but there all the same. 

Time passes in a blur, and Buck isn't sure what to expevt or if he's in another coma dream that will have him feeling off kelter for days to come after, but this is much nicer than his last one anyways, so he can't complain. 

When it's time for the dance recital, Buck admits he spends most of the time watching Bobby film the whole thing like a proud grandpa while Athena leans on his side and bosses him around, giving him directions and guiding his hands with the camera to move him where she wants him to point. 

Christopher is there too, as tall as Buck is now and looking like the best big brother in the whole universe. 

He does catch fragments of the show here and there. Jee is part of the recital, too, dancing with the older kids and then being joined by Olivia's class. They both look radiant and like they're having a blast up on stage. twirling around on their tiptoes, jumping and being way more talented and graceful than Buck could ever hope to be. 

At the end of the night, after a big, chaotic and loud dinner and after tucking Liv in, he slides into bed with Eddie and dreads closing his eyes. He kisses his husband until he's breathless and until Eddie is whining that he's too tired for anything else. 

Buck clings to him and eventually, inevitably, exhaustion pulls him under. 

This was a good dream, is his last conscious though. 

 

(Except, he wakes up the next day and everything is the same. Eddie kisses him in the morning and they even share a quickie, before Olivia yell's from out in the hallway that she's hungry and wants pancakes again. Chris calls at lunch just to chat and Buck spends almost an hour on the phone with him, listening to every detail about this girl he's met at work. 

Bobby drops by to take Liv to the park. claiming he's too old for a piggyback when Olivia asks for one, but complying a few seconds later and jogging back to the car while Buck’s daughter shrieks and giggles on top of him. 

Buck thinks maybe that'll be it. But the day ends and he goes to sleep. And wakes up the next morning to pretty much the same. Over and over again until he has to start believing maybe this is not a dream after all. Maybe they all got granted a second chance, and if a few years of memories are the price to pay… Buck will gladly do it. Miracles are funny like that, he guesses.)