Chapter Text
It’s been two or three hours. Buck has been cleared by Hen, by Eddie, by Chim and is finally given permission to go home. He is bone tired, his mouth tastes like dust and he is looking forward to dropping on his couch, putting on a nature documentary and passing out.
Life, it turns out, has other plans.
Eddie is waiting by his Jeep. His white shirt is dirtied to the point of non-recovery and his hair filled with nearly as much dust as Buck’s lungs. But he’s smiling, like not a day has passed since he left for El Paso, and Buck feels his chest flutter with longing for a past simpler time.
“Care to give me a ride?” Eddie quips, straightening up.
“Thought you were getting an Uber,” Buck deadpans, though he can’t quite hide his smirk.
Eddie laughs, openly, and punches his shoulder. Buck’s stomach flutters.
Without waiting for more invitation, Eddie walks around for the copilot seat and jumps in once Buck unlocks the doors. They settle on their respective seats and take a breath. Time moves backwards.
“We could pick up some Thai on the way home,” Eddie says.
Home. Buck squashes down the feeling growing in his stomach like sourdough.
“Sure. Let’s go,” he drives off.
Aranya, the girl behind the counter of their favorite Thai spot, grins wide when they walk in together. She says nothing about it, and Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, but Buck has been here on his own enough times to recognize the difference in her demeanor. he seems… relieved. Which is odd, but Buck is too tired to read into it.
Twenty minutes later, they are on the way to the house. Buck’s house. Eddie’s house. Home. Whatever. The feeling in Buck’s chest is turning more bitter every time he reminds himself that it isn’t really his. Never was. Not like this.
Only as they stop in the driveway does he dare.
“So… what Chim said… are you really staying?”
Eddie doesn’t look at him. His eyes are fixated on the front door.
“I don’t know.”
Buck breathes deeply.
“I’d have to talk to Chris. We’d have to make the choice together. But… I do miss L.A. I guess I didn’t want to admit it before, but… well, there’s a reason I haven’t left yet.”
It’s what Buck wanted to hear.
It isn’t what Buck wanted to hear.
For some reason, the happiness is tainted by a painful pang in his chest.
“I hope you stay,” he says, a little breathless. “I can move out.”
“Buck…” Eddie finally looks at him, brow furrowed.
He’s probably worried about this decision. It’s gotta be hard. It’s not about L.A. It’s about Chris. Buck shouldn’t push it. Shouldn’t make it about himself. Shouldn’t risk ruining it.
“Let’s go. Food’s getting cold,” he forced a smile as he pushes the Jeep door open.
Eddie follows.
The walk between the Jeep and the front door is enough for Buck’s feelings to settle, for his priorities to take place. Eddie is here now. Who knows how long for. He should take what he can for now.
“Can’t wait to tell Chris all about your daring rescue,” he says, offering Eddie a true smile, wide and open and as unguarded as his heart can muster.
And Eddie laughs, loud and clear and properly happy. And maybe that’s enough. For now.
“Hey, bud!” Eddie calls as they walk in.
“Hey!” Chris calls from the couch. “We saw you on the news!”
Tia Pepa appears, rushing from the kitchen with her hands outstretched towards them.
“My boys! That was too close,” she says, taking Eddie’s face between her hands and planting a kiss on his cheek.
Before Buck can react, or process, he gets the same treatment. He’s suddenly aware of the state he’s in. The dirt and sweat and soot covering his face. His mother would be appalled but Pepa doesn’t seem to mind. He tries to swallow a lump in his throat.
“Buck, I saw you going down the line! That was awesome!” Chris calls from the couch, basically bouncing with excitement.
“That was awesome?! How about your old man throwing the line at him?” Eddie complains
”Meh!” Chris waves dismissively, though Buck can tell by his tone and his grin that he’s very purposefully messing with his father.
Eddie lets out a dramatic wounded gasp and Buck chuckles loudly, feeling his chest expand three sizes.
My boys. The thought betrays him.
He thinks again about Eddie’s plane tickets, about the El Paso job. About Eddie’s dark gaze in the kitchen two days ago. If you make me choose between you and my son, you will lose every time. But Buck would never do that. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He won’t.
So he bites down on his tongue and squashes any remaining hope that Chim’s speech might have worked the miracle he’s been silently praying for for months, and he pulls out the take out food on the diner table that, at least for one more night, is at full capacity. And he tries his damn best not to think of what it’ll be like tomorrow, when he’s setting a single place on it for himself.