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Christopher
Eddie wasn’t sure when it first came on, but Christopher had been fussy all evening. Eddie had collected him from Buck’s after dinner, where he had been informed that Christopher had slept all afternoon, which was unlike him. Sleeping all afternoon meant Christopher didn’t get to play, and he loved to be chatty and social more than anything else.
When Buck handed Christopher over, Christopher had made his displeasure known. His big eyes had filled with tears and his usually smiley mouth had turned into a pout so big that Buck joked his bottom lip would never go back to his normal size. Christopher tried to hold on to Buck with his tiny hands, but nestled into Eddie’s neck like he belonged there.
Christopher refused to be put down. He screamed all the way home in the car. Eddie’s water-baby cried all the way through his bath, despite the lavender scented bubble bath that usually sent him straight to sleep. Eddie tried to give him his favourite rubber duck in a fireman’s hat – the one that always made him laugh – but he splashed with his hands until he could reach it, then threw it across the bathroom.
Christopher refused to let Eddie swaddle him in his favourite fluffy towel. He kicked and waved his arms as Eddie tried to dress him in his feetie pyjamas. He pushed off his beloved Blankie. He cried when Eddie tried to put him down in his crib. He wouldn’t let Eddie give him his firefighter teddy from the 118. He spat out his dummy. He refused his bottle. Eddie found himself eating a sandwich in the kitchen with one hand, the other holding a sniffling baby to his shoulder.
Christopher had been a little warm when they arrived home. By midnight, as he still refused to be put down, he was like a furnace. At half 12, Adrianna tiptoed in through the front door, past her curfew and probably somewhat drunk. She glared at him as she saw him.
“Not my fault you chose to have a kid instead.” She hissed, uncharacteristically mean. She would apologise in the morning, Eddie knew, but it was a stark reminder that all his school friends were off in college, or at 9-5 jobs, rather than trying to soothe an unhappy baby by themselves in their parents’ living room.
At 3am, Christopher showed no sign of quieting. His temperature had risen enough for Eddie to strip him out of his pyjamas, but placing a cool, damp flannel on his forehead had cause him to shriek loud enough that Eddie’s mother appeared at the living room door, wrapped in her dressing gown and glaring blearily in the light.
“Give him to me,” She snapped, but not in the gentle way that suggested she was offering to help. In the frustrated tone she used when she didn’t think Eddie was doing a good enough job of raising his own child.
“I’ve got him, Mom,” Eddie bounced his child in his arms the way he had been doing for hours now, but Christopher just wailed and pushed at Eddie. He’d tried putting him down in his playpen earlier, but Christopher had just screamed until he had been picked up again. Helena frowned at him, clearly not believing him.
“Well, for god’s sake put some clothes on him,” she snapped. “He must be freezing. No wonder he’s upset.”
“He’s got a fever.” Eddie bit back. He was exhausted. He’d spent all day training at the academy, and Christopher had woken him early that morning to play. He’d been awake almost 23 hours and it showed no sign of changing. “He doesn’t need to be any warmer. I’ve. Got. This.”
~
In fact, he dressed Christopher an hour later, in a light onesie, tucked him into his car seat, and drove to the nearest gas station for some emergency Baby Tylenol. He scooped the child back into his arms in the parking lot and carried him inside, and was rewarded by Christopher sneezing directly into his face, his nose leaking enough green snot to fuel a Ghostbusters movie. Eddie – who hadn’t brought Christopher’s changing bag, which had enough babywipes in to clean down an army – sighed and grabbed a packet of tissues from the gas station’s minimal shelves. After some consideration, he added a can of Monster.
Eddie gave Christopher his first dose of Baby Tylenol in the gas station car park and finally, finally, Christopher’s sobs started to subside. Eddie sat in his driver’s seat, cradled his child on his back in his arms, rocked him, kissed his head over and over, and cried from relief and exhaustion into his hair when he finally dropped off.
Eddie sat for an hour, watching his child sleep in his arms, scared to move in case he woke again. In the end, he had to put him back in his car seat and go home – Eddie had work in the morning, and he’d come out without anything for Christopher to eat. The child had refused his bedtime bottle, and Eddie worried he wouldn’t want to wake for his morning one, either.
~
After a brief stop at home, Eddie walked into the 118 with Christopher’s car seat in one hand, his changing back over his shoulder, and everything the two of them would need for the day in a large tote bag in his other hand.
“Eddie?” It was Hen who greeted him – apparently A-Shift was on a 48 hour shift today. “Eddie, sweetie, what are you doing here? Is everything OK?”
“I’m here to work,” Eddie told her, a lot more confidently than he felt, especially as he felt Bobby frowning at him before he even said anything.
“Eddie, go home.”
“I had to get out the house,” Eddie’s voice cracked and he ealized just how pathetic he both felt and sounded. “Chris is sick, and my mom- my mom thinks I can’t look after him, and he’s just got to sleep, and-”
“Let me take him,” Hen told him gently, holding her hand out for the car seat’s handle, and Eddie handed it over without being able to look her in the eye. “I’ll check him over for you.”
“Eddie,” Bobby told him, a lot more gently this time, but Eddie still flinched. “It’s fine. We don’t need you today. Go home, get some sleep.”
“Cap, I have to be here,” Eddie begged. “Please. My mom- I have to get out- I need to work. Please.” Bobby’s eyes softened further, and he put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie felt himself leaning into the touch as always.
“You have a few more hours until your shift,” He told him, and there was a fatherly tone to his voice that Eddie had never heard from his own father. “Go get some rest. We’ve got your boy.”
~
Eddie was woken by the sound of chewing. He shifted blearily to find Buck sitting cross-legged on the next bunk over, watching him sleep and munching on a plate of toast.
“Creep,” Eddie mumbled at him fondly, letting his eyes flutter closed again and snuggling back under the covers before sitting up with a start. If Buck was there, it meant he was there to care for Christopher, which meant Eddie’s shift had started. He glanced around for his shoes, noticed the empty playpen – which doubled as Christopher’s crib in the firehouse – and his heart almost stopped. “Where’s Christopher?”
“Bobby’s got him,” Buck told him through a bulging mouthful of crust. He chewed, swallowed, and grinned. “Or Hen. Maybe one of the others. They’ve been playing Musical Baby since I got here.”
“What time is it?” Eddie groaned, swinging his legs out.
“Half 9,” Buck shrugged, casually going for his next slice like Eddie wasn’t an hour late for work. “Bobby said to let you sleep. He said Chris is sick?”
“He was awake with a fever all night,” Eddie sighed, dipping his head to rest in his hands, his fingers tugging at his own hair. It had been one of the worst nights of his life. “There was nothing I could do.” Buck made a soft, sympathetic noise in his throat, but let Eddie talk. “I’ve never felt like a worse dad. My mom told me I was doing everything wrong-” Buck made another noise, but Eddie held up a hand to stop him saying anything, knowing Buck’s views on his mother. “And Chris couldn’t tell me what he needed, and he just cried. It was heart-breaking, Buck. It was awful.”
“Eddie,” Buck shifted to sit on the bunk next to Eddie and bump their shoulders together. “That doesn’t make you a bad dad. Sometimes babies cry. There’s colic, and being fussy, or being sick, or teething. It’s not your fault he couldn’t tell you what he needed, and your mom-” He spat the word in disgust. “Had no right to tell you you were wrong.” He leaned in to rest his head against Eddie’s, and Eddie wished he was man enough to reach over and hold Buck’s hand, or ask him to kiss him. “It sounds like a shitty night, honestly, and you did the right thing bringing him here.”
“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes were not watering and his lip was not wobbling, and Buck smiled.
“Yeah,” Buck grinned. “Now come on, Bobby’s kept some breakfast over for you.”
~
Eddie allowed Buck to lead him from the bunk room and up to the common area by the hand, their fingers tangled together, but blushed and dropped it when they arrived in the kitchen to see Hen lounging on a sofa with an amused look on her face.
“Morning.” She said, with almost a smirk on her face. Eddie flushed deep red. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Christopher. His fever’s been going down all morning.” Eddie almost collapsed in relief, sinking onto the other sofa. Hen gave him a fond smile. “He’s sleeping now. It’s just a nasty cold, from what I can tell.”
“Where is he?” Eddie asked weakly, and Hen nodded over to the kitchen sink, where the straps of Christopher’s baby carrier were evident on Bobby’s shoulders, even from behind, as he washed up his precious pots and pans, which he insisted couldn’t be run through the dishwasher.
“You know what it gets like round here,” Hen dropped her voice slightly, but it was full of love and amusement. The official line when it came to Christopher being in the firehouse was that Eddie was doing tasks, Buck was watching the baby, and everyone else went about their duty as normal. In practice, it meant that everyone was begging to be the one carrying Christopher round in their arms while they went about their jobs, fussing him when he wanted attention, rocking him when he cried, or feeding him when he was hungry. If someone was having a bad day, they would get priority with baby cuddles. Christopher would get passed around throughout the day and loved every second of it, always a sociable baby. “Cap hasn’t let anyone at him all morning.”
“All morning?” Eddie asked, stunned.
“Got sneezed on twice and changed him once,” Hen grinned. “I tried to explain others of us have kids, that we’re all capable of looking after him, but he wouldn’t have it. Just said to tell you to get on with your jobs for the day and he’ll check in on you when he’s got a minute.” She nodded over to the whiteboard where everyone’s assigned tasks were written, clapped him on the shoulder, and headed back downstairs. Eddie moved closer to read it, his eyes automatically skipping to his own name, added to the bottom of the list.
Ambo restock: Chim
Meal prep: Bobby, Buck
Laundry: Hen
Baby duty: Buck
Get some rest: Eddie
Report practise: Eddie
Feeling better soon: Chris
Sleeping: Chris
Looking cute: Chris
Underneath, in Buck’s scrappy writing, had been added:
Pooping: Chris
Someone else had drawn a circle around this and an arrow pointing to it with the words You’re dealing with that, Buck.
~
The only time Bobby had given up Christopher from his arms was when they had a call-out mid-morning, and he had reluctantly handed the child to Buck. As Christopher was still sleeping off the worst of his cold, Buck just held him against his chest as he lounged in Bobby’s office whilst Eddie typed up the team’s paperwork to give himself an idea of which forms should be filled in and in which way.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need to be in his cot?” He asked, surprised rather than judgemental, and worried about hurting Buck’s feelings. Buck shrugged a shoulder, looking comfortable.
“No, he’s good.”
“My mom says babies shouldn’t be held while they sleep,” Eddie protested. “That they’ll get spoiled. That they need to sleep in their cots.” Christopher’s 5-month-old sleep regression the previous month had almost broken Eddie’s heart as he watched his baby lie in his cot, refusing to sleep, and screaming to be held. Eddie’s mother had been there using phrases like he’ll tire himself out and he needs to learn to self-soothe.
“Firstly,” Buck sounded amused, rubbing up and down Christopher’s back. “That’s a bullshit myth. Secondly, you’ve told me about your mom; the fuck does she know about parenting? And thirdly, he’s asleep. How does he know where he is?” He tucked Blankie further around the baby, who snuffled then sighed in his sleep.
~
The crew arrived back just as Buck was preparing lunch, Christopher still asleep in his baby carrier against Buck’s chest. Eddie was still at Bobby’s computer, adding data into a spreadsheet on Bobby’s behalf. Bobby stuck a weary head around the door and gave him a tired smile.
“How are you doing, kid?” He asked. “I’m going to put some coffee on if you want some.”
“Buck’s just made some,” Eddie held his mug up as demonstration. “I’m doing OK. Got everything done.”
“Has it helped, do you think?” Bobby asked, coming into the office and clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “You think you can do one of your own when you need to?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie smiled up at him, relishing the weight and heat of his senior’s hand. His own father rarely showed affection like this; slapping him on the back if he was in a particularly good mood, but withholding physical contact any other way. Ramon’s idea of affection was a teasing dig at his son, then not understanding why he hadn’t taken it well.
“How’s Chris doing?” Bobby smiled, and Eddie could hear the affection in his voice, and see the way the weight left his shoulders as he thought about the child.
“Better than last night,” Eddie smiled. “He woke up for a bit earlier. Coughed up a storm all over Buck. We put some vaporub on his chest and he’s breathing a bit better, but he’s still snotty. It’s kinda gross, honestly.” He winced. “Is it bad I just called my kid gross? For something that’s not his fault?”
“No,” Bobby laughed, sitting beside Eddie. “When my Brooke was five she got stomach flu. Marcy couldn’t handle sick, so Brooke spent three days in my lap.” Eddie didn’t know who these people were, but the weight of the world was back on Bobby’s shoulders, and his face had aged 10 years, so he just nodded. “Got puked one more than once, and I’m not talking milk hiccups like Chris. I’m talking pea-soup, exorcism, never-shedding-the-smell.” He laughed fondly, and Eddie couldn’t help a sad smile. “Robbie got too close once, and that set him off, too. Kids are gross. Doesn’t mean you don’t love them with your everything.”
“I just want to do right by him,” Eddie admitted in a smaller voice than he knew he had. “I’ve never done this before.”
“No-one has, until they do,” Bobby told him gently, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Eddie. I promise you that.”
“My mom doesn’t think I can do anything right,” Eddie never thought he’d admit that, but there was something reassuring about Bobby, that made him easy to disclose secrets to. Bobby squeezed the shoulder his hand lay on.
“That doesn’t make her right,” He told him gently. “You love your boy with everything you have. That alone makes you a good parent. He is happy. He feels safe around you. He’s fed and he’s clean and he’s cuddled when he needs it. What other measure is there of a good parent?”
“He’s not hitting his milestones,” Eddie’s voice cracked. “We had to go for tests last month, but they were inconclusive. We’re going for more next month. I- I don’t know what I’d do if something’s wrong.”
“Every baby develops at a different pace,” Bobby assured him. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You’re doing everything right.”
“Eddie.” Buck appeared at the door of Bobby’s office, and Eddie quickly wiped his eyes. Buck had the baby held out at arms length, and Christopher was fussing from the lack of contact. “He sneezed on me. Twice. Then coughed in my face. There is more snot on me than could possibly fit in something that small. It’s your turn to hold him.”
~
Eddie
Eddie wasn’t sure what counted as symptoms, and what was because he had spent all day at the academy carrying heavy equipment and wearing heavy PPE, but his muscles ached. He had spent all week tending to his poorly son; they had a meticulous bedtime routine where Eddie would syringe the mucus from his nose, bathe him in lavender bubble bath, massage Vick’s Vaporub into his chest, rock him to sleep, and tuck him into his cot with the humidifier running. He was rewarded with being coughed on, sneezed on, puked on, but also being snuffled into by a soft, warm, perfect baby. He would do anything for him.
Christopher was finally starting to feel better – after several days of sleeping on Buck, he was now content to sit in his lap, awake, for stories, or draw with his crayons. He had gone back to sleeping through the night, too, and Eddie couldn’t be more grateful as he fell into bed, almost straight after Christopher had dropped off.
Eddie woke up at 5am, shivering despite the humidifier, and despite the way his skin hurt to touch, and he was drenched in sweat. His forehead was hot and clammy, and he knew. Luckily he wasn’t due at the fire academy today, so he texted Bobby to inform him he couldn’t come to work, before lying back on his pillow to try and get some sleep before he had to be up to help his sisters get ready for school.
An argument with his mom about “earning your place in this home” and “supporting your family”, Christopher throwing up his bottle on Eddie’s clean shirt, and a text back from Bobby telling him to rest up later, Eddie drove his sisters to school, then lied to his mom about having the day off so he could collapse back in bed.
Eddie’s head was throbbing as he sat in bed, his child in his lap. He knew he had parental duties to perform, so he had lifted Christopher out of his crib and sat against his bedhead to find episodes of Little Einstein on his phone. Christopher sat enthralled, and Eddie risked shutting his aching eyes just for a minute, listening out for any sign of distress.
And then Eddie’s mother started up the vacuum.
Eddie tried everything. He turned up the volume on his phone. He wrapped Blankie tighter around Christopher and let him chew on the paw of his firefighter teddy. He pressed kiss after kiss into Christopher’s hair, but nothing helped. Christopher hated the sound of the vacuum, and Eddie felt like death.
The doorbell ringing drilled into Eddie’s head like a hot, sharp poker to his temple, but the vacuum stopped. The next thing Eddie knew, Buck appeared in his bedroom, and Eddie stared at him. Christopher squirmed in Eddie’s lap and held his arms out to his babysitter, who scooped him up and sat him on his hip, passing him his teddy with his other hand.
“What are you doing here?” Eddie croaked, resisting the urge to topple sideways now he wasn’t worried about killing his son in his sleep.
“Charming,” Buck grinned, placing an overnight bag on Eddie’s bed, before sitting on the edge, Christopher in his lap instead. “I’ve got a job to do and I’m missing my favourite boy.”
“You don’t need to babysit him today,” Eddie told him guiltily, before turning his head away to hack a cough into his elbow. “I’m not at work. I can watch him.”
“Eddie, you look like death,” Buck told him bluntly. “I don’t suppose you can look after yourself today, let alone anyone else. C’mon, come stay at mine. I’ll look after you both and it’ll get your mom off your back.”
“At yours?” Eddie looked confused. “How did you even know?”
“Bobby told me you’re sick,” Buck told him, like it was obvious. “And you’ve told me what your mom is like. How much have you parented your sisters this morning, hmm?” Eddie couldn’t look at him, his cheeks burning with the feeling of being known so well. “C’mon. My bed is better than yours.” He cast an eye over Eddie’s childhood bed, tucked into the corner of his childhood room, Christopher’s cot at the end of it.
In the end, it wasn’t a debate; not really. Eddie’s mom started up the vacuum again, Christopher started screaming again, and Buck had already started packing him an overnight bag.
~
Buck drove them all back to his apartment and hustled Eddie into bed. Eddie, who felt drained just from the walk from the lobby to Buck’s apartment, didn’t argue, collapsing onto the bed. He let Buck pull the covers over him and brush a hand through Eddie’s hair.
“Chris and I are going grocery shopping,” Buck told him soothingly. “Stay in bed while I’m gone.” Buck had laid Eddie’s pyjamas on the pillow next to Eddie’s head, but he only had enough energy to kick his jeans off before falling asleep.
~
Eddie was woken gently and immediately hit with the smell of chicken soup. Not tinned, but freshly made, with undertones of engine oil, wax polish, and fire-retardant foam. For a moment he thought he was napping in the firehouse bunk room, although the bed was comfier. And he wasn’t fully dressed. That would be embarrassing, if the alarms went off and he had to run to his ride-along without jeans on.
“Bobby?” he murmured into his pillow, debating just going back to sleep instead, but he heard a fond chuckle.
“Buck.” He was corrected, and he cracked his eyes open to see Buck standing over him, Christopher in one arm, a steaming mug in the other hand. “Morning sleepyhead. We brought you some lunch.”
“Lunch?” Eddie frowned, sitting up and wincing as his head throbbed and span at the same time. He bunched the blankets around his waist, lest Buck see him in his underwear, and took the mug being held out to him.
“Yeah, it’s 1,” Buck told him. “We’re about to have some tummy time, but we wanted to check on you first. We’re going to be in the living room so we don’t disturb you, but shout if you need us.”
“You can do it in here if you like,” Eddie couldn’t help a fond smile, sipping on his soup. It was the perfect temperature. Of course it was. He loved walking in on Buck and Christopher having tummy time when they hung out in the firehouse. Blankie spread over the floor, Christopher practising holding his head up, and the great hulking Buck lying on his stomach beside the baby, enthusiastically talked back to Christopher’s babbling as if it was a great conversation. He gave Christopher words of encouragement the longer he strengthened his neck muscles. He held every book he was reading where Christopher could also see the pages, despite being far too tiny to be able to read along. He would then help Christopher to roll over, lie on his back beside the child, and hold a second book out, and read whilst Christopher kicked his legs and reached for the toys hanging from his playmat mobile.
“Are you sure?” Buck asked. “I promised him The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and you know how giggly that makes him. And Oi Duckbilled Platypus!”
“I don’t mind,” Eddie smiled. “That way I can hang out with my boys.” He didn’t notice the slip, and didn’t notice the way Buck’s cheeks coloured and his words dried up.
~
Eddie listened to Buck and Christopher’s storytime, and listened to the way Christopher’s snuffly little breaths evened into tiny baby snores by the end of Guess How Much I Love You. He listened as Buck scooped the child into his arms and wandered around the bedroom with him, quietly singing a lullaby in Spanish(?!) as he held him against his shoulder and patted his back soothingly to make sure he was fully asleep. He listened as Buck slipped out the room before returning and climbing into the bed behind Eddie.
“Buck, no,” Eddie managed to mumble, halfway back asleep. “’m sick. You’ll catch it.”
“I don’t care,” Buck told him, slipping an arm around Eddie’s waist and, he had to admit, it felt nice to be held. “I’ve been taking care of two needy boys and everyone else has had a nap. You can’t kick me out of my own bed.” He squeezed his arm tighter as Eddie made to pull away and climb out of bed. “Eddie, you’re sick. You’re not going to sleep on the couch.”
“’m not wearing pyjamas,” Eddie mumbled into his pillow, and felt Buck bury his face in the back of Eddie’s hair. “Or jeans.”
“I don’t care,” Buck murmured in his scalp. “Go to sleep, Eddie.” As Eddie dropped off, he felt a gentle kiss being pressed to his head. He didn’t say anything.
~
Eddie slept through the night, waking long enough to manage a second mug of soup. Christopher let them sleep in – six am! Six! It was the latest he had slept for weeks! – and when he did wake, it was to chatter to himself rather than cry. Eddie groaned, pulled from sleep, and went to sit up, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.
“I’ve got him,” A gravelly voice told him, and the strong arm appeared back around his waist for a quick squeeze before Buck bumbled out of bed. Eddie rested back against his pillow and let his eyes droop back shut as he heard Buck scoop up the baby and chatter to him as he left the room.
~
Eddie woke to the smell of bacon being fried and paused just long enough to pull his pyjama trousers on before padding into the kitchen. He felt better than he had for days – rested, his headache having gone, his fever having burnt itself out, and his aches having faded.
“Morning,” He rasped, his voice still waking up, and froze as he saw Buck at the stove, still in pyjamas with untamed curls, and a baby on his hip as he poked at a frying pan. It had been a month and a half since he had met Buck – since his life had changed forever – and Eddie still didn’t have the courage to make his move. He felt feelings, he’d been caught staring, and the sight of his friend with a baby, with Eddie’s baby made him yearn, but he’d never dared say anything.
“Just in time!” Buck grinned, stirring some scrambled eggs, before moving on to butter some toast. Christopher’s fingers were poking at Buck’s cheeks, but he didn’t seem to notice. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks,” Eddie smiled, moving to pour himself some of the coffee he could see in the pot.
“Good,” Buck smiled. “But back to bed after this. Just to make sure.”
“Buck, I’m fine,” Eddie protested, but Buck shook his head.
“Just stay the weekend,” He insisted. “Let me help with Chris while you rest up. You’re at the academy on Monday, and you want to be at your best.”
“Soph needs me to take her to dance practise tomorrow,” Eddie protested weakly, and Buck huffed, handing him the child so he could spoon the eggs onto two plates.
“Your mom can do without you for one weekend,” He bit in a way Eddie didn’t expect. He opened his mouth to protest, but Buck immediately softened and changed the subject. “Chris thinks we should get takeout for lunch, by the way.”
“Oh, did he?” Eddie laughed, allowing the matter to drop. “He told you that, did he?”
“Yeah,” Buck nodded sincerely. “While you were sleeping. He said ‘Buck. I think Daddy would like if we ordered fancy sandwiches for lunch and eat them in bed while watching Cars’.”
“That sounds exactly like how babies talk,” Eddie laughed, taking the plate handed to him. “Especially at his age.”
“He went on to write an academic paper about the best materials to make blankies out of,” Buck nodded seriously, sitting at the table with him and Christopher. “I reckon it’ll get published by the end of the week, in Baby Academics Monthly.”
“Sounds plausible,” Eddie nodded with a chuckle, before pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head, ever proud, ever looking for an excuse to fuss over him. “So, you speak Spanish?”
“You didn’t know?” Buck blushed. “I spent the summer after high school living in Peru. I stayed with a family who had small kids and didn’t speak much English.”
“And you sang to the kids?” Eddie guessed, and Buck went a deeper shade of red, looking at Eddie like he’d performed magic. “I heard you singing to Chris last night.”
“It’s what made me realise I want to work with kids,” Buck admitted in a small voice. “I put in my application to community college in a tiny internet café in the town. Didn’t even tell Bobby until I got back a week before term started.”
“He’s so proud of you, y’know,” Eddie smiled, bouncing Christopher gently on his knee to stop him getting fussy. Buck blushed.
“Yeah, I know.” He gave a sad smile which Eddie didn’t push about, not wanting to spoil the light mood. “So, what fancy sandwich do you want for lunch?”
~
Buck
This time, Eddie knew exactly what caused it. Buck had held Christopher in his arms as much as possible whilst he was recovering from his cold, letting him cough and sneeze all over him. Buck had insisted on sharing Eddie’s bed for several nights in a row whilst he was recovering from the same cold. Eddie was just surprised how long it had taken for Buck to catch it.
Eddie walked into the firehouse with a spring in his step, Christopher’s changing bag over his shoulder, and his baby in his arms. He chatted to the child about all the fun he was going to have with Buck, and let Christopher babble back in response.
“Eddie,” Bobby was waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen, and his tone was more serious than he’d ever directed at his trainee before. Eddie froze.
“Bobby, what’s up?” He asked, and Bobby sighed, but relaxed.
“I’m sorry, kid, but I’ve got a different job for you today,” He ran his hands through his short hair, and Eddie struggled not to feel disappointed. Bobby had promised to talk him through the nozzles on the engine, including water pressures, hose sizes, and different types of fire suppressants. “Buck’s phoned in, and I haven’t got anyone to check on him.” There was concern etched into every line of Bobby’s face, and Eddie understood. Buck would never willingly miss out on time at the firehouse – seeing his friends, playing with Christopher, helping out – and Eddie knew exactly what it was like to worry about your kid. “You can leave Chris here with us, if you don’t want to expose him to whatever Buck’s got, or-”
“It’s fine,” Eddie nodded. “It’ll do Buck good to see him. Chris heals all.” He kissed his child on the side of the head and turned to head straight back to his car, but Bobby stopped him.
“Just a second,” He called, and Buck turned back. “I’ve got some bits for you to take for him, if that’s OK.”
~
‘some bits’ turned out to be an entire cool-bag of soups, snacks, and microwavable meals to get Buck (and Eddie) through at least the next week without having to cook. With the baby in one arm, it took Eddie two trips to get everything up 3 flights of stairs to Buck’s apartment, before he could let himself in with the spare key Bobby had lent him.
He found Buck in the kitchen, one blanket over his head like a hood, one around his shoulders like a cape. He was going through cupboards muttering to himself, and occasionally stopping to sip from a jumbo-can of Red Bull on the counter.
“Buck?” Eddie frowned, depositing the cool-bag on the floor. Buck jumped a foot in the air and span round to stare at his intruder, clutching his chest. “What are you doing up?”
“Breakfast,” Buck wheezed, his fingers in a death-grip on the edge of the counter with his other hand. “What are you doing here?” He sneezed loud enough to shake the walls of the apartment and it made Christopher giggle.
“I heard you’re sick,” Eddie watched fondly as Buck wrinkled his nose, trying to dislodge another sneeze, before turning back to the cupboard. “What are you looking for?”
“Mac’n’cheese,” Buck muttered to himself, and Eddie sighed.
“You are not having mac and cheese for breakfast,” He told him firmly. “Go to bed. I’ll bring something through.”
“’m fine,” Buck protested, before giving another almighty sneeze. Eddie sighed and held his baby out with both hands for Buck to take.
“Bed.”
~
When Eddie brought through Buck’s microwavable oatmeal pot and Christopher’s mid-morning bottle, he found his friend sitting up in bed, holding a giggling Christopher upside down by the hips. He gently lifted and dipped him, careful not to jostle him, and Christopher squealed delightedly. He then carefully laid him in his lap to be able to scoop him up normally, and gave Eddie a sheepish grin.
“Eat,” Eddie laughed, holding out the oatmeal pot and scooping Christopher out Buck’s arms. The baby drank greedily, whereas Buck just poked at his food.
“Sorry,” He pulled a face when Eddie questioned him gently about it. “I’m just not very hungry.”
“That’s OK,” Eddie gave him an encouraging smile. “Just try your best, then you can get some more sleep.”
“I do like sleep,” Buck nodded, his eyelids started to droop, and if Eddie hadn’t been sure of Buck’s illness already, that would have clinched it; he had never seen Buck do anything other than run around at full speed.
“The department’s going to pay you for today, right?” Eddie blurted out. “I know when I was off sick Bobby arranged sick pay for me, but I don’t know if the childcare department works the same way, or-”
“Eddie.” Buck stopped him with a flat look. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The department pays you to watch Chris,” Eddie frowned, confused. How did Buck not follow? “But you’re not needed today. I don’t want you to lose out on money.”
“Eddie,” Buck stopped him again, then held up a finger for him to hold that thought so Buck could sneeze. “The department doesn’t pay me. Bobby does.”
“Bobby pays you to watch Chris?” Eddie stared at him, bewildered. Buck snuffled as he nodded, before reaching for a tissue to blow his nose. “Why?”
“You deeded sob-one,” Buck told him from behind the handkerchief. “Or you couldn’t have joid the academy.”
“He told me the department paid for his care!” Eddie protested, finding it hard to breathe. “But he’s been paying you all this time?! Oh God, I have to pay him back.” He chewed his lip. “Chris has another appointment at the hospital next month, but if I ask my parents for help, and save up my pay, and-.”
“Eddie,” Buck gripped his hand and Eddie immediately felt grounded, his breathing returning to normal and his heartrate slowing. “You don’t have to pay him back. Bobby loves you; he just wants to help you out. You’re family now. That’s what it means to be part of the 118. Even I’m part of it, and I was just a patient.”
“How did you become part of it?” Eddie asked, burping Christopher against his shoulder. Buck just put his oatmeal pot on the side and snuggled under his covers.
“’nother time,” He mumbled into his pillow, and Eddie couldn’t help reaching out to run his fingers through Buck’s messy curls. Christopher liked it, he reasoned, and Eddie had no idea how else to lull anyone to sleep. Buck made a soft noise in his throat and pressed his head further to Eddie’s hand. Eddie had to fight the urge to press a kiss into his hair, but stayed there until he was sure Buck had dropped off, and Christopher wriggled for a change before his mid-morning nap.
With Christopher safely changed and tucked into his crib, fast asleep, Eddie climbed into Buck’s bed and fastened an arm around his waist, in a similar way to how he had been held when he had been unwell.
“Sweet dreams.” Eddie whispered to Buck and he smiled as Buck’s head moved instinctively towards Eddie’s in his sleep. He moved closer, gently pressing his forehead to Buck’s. Buck’s skin was sweaty and clammy, his breath hot against Eddie’s cheek, but Eddie dropped off against him easily, unable to stop smiling.