Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the middle of Buck and Christopher’s third round of ‘I Spy’, one of the women he saved points over at someone holding onto a nearby tree. He hates himself for it, but Buck gets this big pool of dread in his stomach, not wanting to leave Christopher anymore to save other people. It’s the right thing to do though, so he braces himself by the edge of the truck, getting ready to jump in.

That’s when he notices a baby in the woman’s arms. Shit. This won’t be so easy. “Hey, uh—” Buck cuts himself off as he points at another man, unsure of his name. None of them really had any time to discuss names.

“Steve,” the man supplies, giving a half smile.

“Steve, would you mind giving me a hand helping her?” Buck asks, wincing as he knows it’s a lot to ask. “The water has receded quite a bit, I think the worst is out of the way.”

Steve brushes his cornrows out of his face, giving Buck a firm nod. “Man, I’d do just about anything for you after you saved my life,” he says. “I owe a life saved.”

The two men carefully get into the water, Steve swimming ahead of Buck. Though the man is younger than Buck, probably no more than twenty, he must sense he needs a break, especially after all the people he saved. Bucks is grateful considering how badly his leg has started to ache as the adrenaline has slowly been leaving his body.

Grabbing onto a nearby branch, Buck holds an arm out. “Here, pass me the baby,” he says, “I’ll bring it to the ladder truck and then help you bring her back.”

Steve does as he’s told, scooping the baby up, and promising the mother that they’ll be back together soon. He turns to Buck, carefully placing the baby against his chest, and only letting go once he’s sure the blonde man has a secure arm around it. “You go, man, I got her,” Steve assures Buck, “if I need help, I’ll holler.”

Though Buck feels guilty again, he agrees. If he can carry an unconscious two hundred and fifty pound man to the truck, then he’s sure Steve can manage bringing this probably one hundred and ten pound woman over by himself. With one arm, Buck keeps the baby securely held to his chest and uses his other to tread through the water.

When he makes it to the side of the truck, the woman who had watched Christopher earlier, meets him right away, and grabs the baby so he can more easily climb up. Buck makes it to the other side with a huff of air from the effort, mumbling a thanks to the woman. “I’m, uh, I’m Buck,” he lets out breathlessly. “Thank you for your help.”

“Maria,” the woman supplies, giving Buck a soft smile. “It was my pleasure.”

Nodding with a smile of his own, Buck takes the baby so he can check it over. It’s a baby girl and her clothes are soaking, shivering with each light breeze that passes them.

“Buck!”

Looking up, Buck follows the direction of Steve’s voice and sees he’s halfway to the engine, holding onto the firehose Buck had tied to a tree. “She won’t get on the truck, said she wants her baby back, and to leave. I said she’s nuts, but she won’t listen.” Sitting up further, Buck squints a little at the woman trying to hide behind Steve’s head before his world comes crashing to a halt.

It’s Dr. Wells.

The Dr. Wells Bobby had sent Buck to, over a year and a half ago.

The same one he couldn’t quite admit had taken advantage of him, had made him feel numb whenever he tried sharing his feelings, who made it impossible to open up to any other therapist—

She was there and she had a baby. A baby who couldn’t be more than ten months old. A baby with his blonde hair and bright blue eyes, not her dark hair and dark eyes.

Buck felt like throwing up. He didn’t even know Dr. Wells’ first name. It had said it on her business card, but since then he tried to block out anything involving her. After their appointment, he threw the card out, as well as the clothes he had been wearing that day. The thought of putting them back on made his stomach churn, so he decided to be rid of them.

With shaky hands, Buck brings the baby closer to his chest, unable to completely wrap his head around what’s happening. Somehow, he has enough fight inside himself to reply. “It’s too late, Doctor,” Buck calls out, voice trembling a bit as all eyes turn on him. Everyone in the group had been chatting here and there, but it got quiet again when Buck and Steve were in the water. “Can’t hide this any longer.”

Dr. Wells lets herself be seen fully now, eyebrows pinched together, and her mouth pulled like she ate something sour. Titling his head, Steve looks down at Dr. Wells, clearly confused. “You know each other?” he asks, then looks back at Buck. “She your ex or something?”

“Or something,” Buck replies, blinking at the tears that burn in his eyes. “I know th-the baby is mine, just… just let Steve help you. I have to look you over and… and your baby.” The words taste badly in his mouth and when they make their way past his lips, Buck doesn’t feel like he’s the one who said them. He’s on autopilot, saying any and everything to get Dr. Wells to safety. Because no matter what someone has done to him, Buck will always save their life. It’s not in him not to. That would make him like Dr. Wells and he’s nothing like Dr. Wells.

“Shit, this is messy,” Steve mutters, finally able to swim over to the truck now that Dr. Wells isn’t fighting against him.

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck pulls the baby away from his chest so he can get a better look at her. She’s clearing cold, letting out soft breaths of distress. A tear makes its way down his cheek before Buck is able to swipe it away and then he starts his exam. First, he gets her out of her cold clothes, taking off his shirt that’s now dry, and wrapping it around her. Then, he listens closely to her breathing and checks her pupils.

“Buck, you have a daughter?” Christopher asks in a low voice, almost startling Buck. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t either, bud,” Buck replies, sighing as he finishes up his quick exam, and wrapping the baby more securely in his shirt now.

Maria takes a seat next to Buck, a frown on her face. “This child is yours?” she asks, looking down at the baby.

“Y-Yeah,” Buck confirms, giving a small nod. He looks up and finds another man he saved helping Steve and Dr. Wells out of the water. “I’m— I’m going to need you to hold her again while I…” He cuts himself off, trying to stifle a sob that makes its way up his tight throat. Maria frowns further, resting a hand on his back in an attempt to steady him. “I have to check her mother over.”

“Is everything…?” Maria trails off, eyes darting across Buck’s face as if she’s trying to figure out some puzzle. “Are you okay?”

Swallowing thickly, Buck turns, and gently presses the baby girl into Maria’s arms, choosing not to answer her question. As he heads to the other side of the truck, he finds Steve and the other man are both trying to restrain Dr. Wells without harming her, as she keeps trying to fight to get away. If she causes too much of a ruckus, the truck will shift too much, and it could put all of them in danger.

“Doctor, you need to… you need to calm down, okay?” Buck says, voice much quieter than he wanted. “I know you’re…” Calling her upset feels wrong, she has no reason to be upset, she’s the one who r— No, Buck, focus, now is not the time to think about that. Repressing trauma is what you do best, do it for a little while longer. “Look, I just need to check you over. I think… I think, uh, that your shoulder is out of its socket, and the other one looks like it could be broken.”

Dr. Wells stares up at Buck, a darkness in her eyes that Buck doesn’t remember from their session. Though, he has been known for misremembering a lot about that day. She stills her fighting, giving a curt nod, unable to look Buck directly in the eye. As if she has any room to be angry at him.

“Alright.” The assessment is quick and clinical, but Buck can confirm that her left shoulder is out of its socket, and the right arm is broken in at least two places. There’s also a probable concussion, considering how shaky she seems to be, although he supposes that could have something to do with their given situation. “I need to put your arm back in its socket. It should only hurt for a few seconds, but once it’s back in place, you’ll feel instant relief.” He clenches his jaw, feeling like he’s watching himself outside of his body. The others around him keep watching the both of them, as if they all can’t quite figure out the dynamic. Steve stays close by, eyes narrowed in on Dr. Wells, like he’s Buck’s guard dog. “Your other arm… um, th-though is broken. We’ll have to put it in a makeshift sling for now to try and keep it in one place.”

“I want my daughter,” Dr. Wells says, finally looking Buck in the eyes. “You have no rights over her and I want her back.”

“I’m not trying to…” Buck trails off, letting out a stuttering breath. “Look, I have a feeling neither of us are happy to see one another, but you don’t really have much room to talk after what you did. So, let me help you. You can’t hold your daughter when both your arms are hurt.”

That shuts Dr. Wells up, eyeing the witnesses to their discussion warily, clearly afraid of what Buck might reveal about their history. He wonders if she ever feels bad for what she did… but he sincerely doubts it. Afterwards, she apologized, but it didn't feel real. He thinks she was trying to make herself feel better… or maybe to convince him never to tell anyone. Buck never planned to tell anyone, but now he thinks he might have to.

He glances at the baby girl. His baby girl. And, though she could be viewed as a reminder of the horrific thing he had to endure, every time those thoughts arise in his mind, they’re completely blocked by the fact that; she’s his baby. Athena would probably blame it on what she calls “the Buckley heart of gold thing.” And, Maddie would probably add that since he was so unwanted as a kid, he would never want to make a child feel that way. No matter how it may affect him mentally, no matter what he might have to do to heal himself to be the best person he can be for her.

Whatever the reason, he can’t help the racing, anxious thoughts, the blaring alarm reminding him; Shesmybabyshesmybabyshesmybaby—

“You going to fix it or what?” Dr. Wells snaps, taking Buck out of his thoughts. He looks back at her and finds her eyes are closed, and Buck realizes he has her arm ready to put back in its socket, but has frozen half way.

Without replying, Buck finally rights her shoulder, causing Dr. Wells to yell in pain for a moment before she lets out a relieved sigh. Buck shivers, wanting to get as far away from her as possible, but he’s not finished yet. Steve hands Buck the sweater they found floating the water to use at the sling, looking in his eyes as he does so, as if trying to communicate with him. Though Buck barely knows this man, he has a feeling he’s trying to ask Buck what the hell happened.

Clearing his throat, Buck works as quickly and efficiently as possible so he doesn’t have to be near Dr. Wells anymore. Once it’s in a secure knot, she tries to stand back up, but he raises his hands to motion her to stop, and Steve reaches out to grab her shoulder.

“You need to just sit still,” Buck says, taking a step away from her. “You can’t hold her, you’re too hurt, you’re not strong enough. If the water recedes again and there’s a big wave, you could risk her getting hurt or falling out of the truck. Do you want that?”

“I don’t want you holding her,” Dr. Wells snaps, glaring up at him with such hatred, Buck feels surprise flare in his chest. What reason does she have to be mad? “You know, if you had kept in touch, maybe you would have known about her.”

Buck lowers his voice, hoping Christopher doesn’t hear what he says next. “Why the fuck… would I keep in touch with my therapist who decided it would be perfectly fine to sleep with me?” He shakes his head, eyes welling up. “You realize that legally that’s rape, right?”

“As if you’d ever report me,” Dr. Wells retorts, “no one will ever believe a strong firefighter was assaulted.”

Without a clue what to reply, Buck just stares at her, feeling broken. The man who had helped Steve out of the water steps back up, gesturing for Buck to go back to sit with Christopher. “I think it’s best if you two stay apart.”

Nodding numbly, Buck heads the other way, trying to get the tingling sensation to leave his skin. “Sorry,” he whispers to the man. “She just—”

“We heard,” the man interrupts with a frown. “I’m very sorry, we’ll keep her away from you.”

Sucking in a breath, Buck nods again, tears falling this time. If he had it in him to hug this man, he would, but right now that sounds like hell, so instead Buck offers him a smile. “Thank you…”

“Joey,” the man says. “But I should be thanking you, Buck. You save all of us, even with a son to think of.”

Not correcting the man, Buck manages to reach out and squeeze Joey’s shoulder without puking. “It was no problem. It’s my job.”

“You don’t seem to be wearing your turnouts now,” Joey comments, turning around, “nah, that was all you.”

Swallowing over the lump in his throat, Buck takes a seat between Christopher and Maria. From the look on Maria’s face, she managed to hear what was said between Buck and Dr. Wells. He raises an eyebrow, gesturing ever so slightly at Christopher with his head in question. When Maria shakes her head, he lets out a sigh. Eddie may kill him for bringing Christopher to the tsunami, but at least the kid hadn’t also heard about the trauma Buck endured. He’s too young for that, especially since he already has so much for a nine year old child.

Maria gently passes Buck’s baby back to him. He pulls his legs up so he can rest the girl on them and look her in the face. She looks just like him, her hair had even started to curl on the ends. Despite everything going on; the tsunami, having to face Dr. Wells again, and all the feelings that come with it, Buck can’t help but smile. She’s gorgeous. His mind feels torn, how can something so gorgeous come from such a horrible thing? But, Buck supposes that’s the whole point; they aren’t the same thing. What happened to him and the existence of this baby are separate things, they have to be, especially in Buck’s mind, or else he’s not sure he even deserves to have this baby.

“What’s her name?” Christopher asks, reaching out and smiling when the baby wraps her finger around his.

“I’m not sure,” Buck says.

“Hm,” Christopher hums. “Can we call her Baby Buck?”

Letting out a small laugh, Buck shrugs. “I guess we can for now.” No way in hell is he going to ask Dr. Wells what her name is.

Christopher looks over at where Dr. Wells sits with a frown on his face. “Is she your girlfriend?” he asks.

“No, Chris, she’s not.” Buck lightly brushes back his baby’s hair, smiling when her eyes flutter closed, seeming at peace in his arms.

“Then how did you have a baby with her?” Christopher asks next, turning his head in confusion. “Dad said that to make a baby you need to have a girlfriend. Unless you adopt… but she’s your kid… um, bio—beo—”

“Biologically, yes.”

Christopher shakes his head. “How does that work?”

God, Buck really doesn’t want to have to talk about this with his best friend’s nine year old. He has no idea how a person goes about explaining this. “How about we wait for your dad to help me explain?” Buck suggests. “Let’s just… get to know her right now, okay? We might not have too much time with her.”

Frowning, Christopher tucks himself in closer to Buck, clearly not liking that idea. “But we just met her!” he says. “Baby Buck is my sister.”

Buck could just melt. Or sob. Maybe both.

This can be something good, he knows it can. It might just… take some time to get to the point where everything is… one hundred percent good. Buck thinks he can do it, that he can put in the work. He… he really hopes he can.

Wiping at a tear that falls, Buck puts an arm around Christopher, and places a kiss on his head. “We’ll get her back, I promise, okay?”

“Daddy will help,” Christopher decides, “because he loves you and so do I. And, he says you’re supposed to help people you love.”

Buck nods against the top of Chris’ head. “Your dad’s right.”

Chapter Text

For hours, the water is peaceful as they all watch the sun set, but then another wave hits. Buck wraps his arms tightly around Christopher and his baby, getting the urge to never let go. It’s not as bad as the first few waves and the good news is that it’s going back out instead of pushing further into the city. The truck is sort of anchored against a fallen power line, so it only shakes underneath them.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something Buck would hate to admit out loud, he hopes Dr. Wells falls in. But the thought is gone as quickly as the wave and no one has fallen overboard. One thing though—

“Yo, she’s unconscious,” Joey says, gesturing to Dr. Wells who’s laying down now, eyes shut.

“Check, uh, check her pupils for me?” Buck says, unable to make himself leave either of his children. And, the more he can avoid touching or being near Dr. Wells, the better. If Buck never sees her again after this, it’ll be too soon. “Use the flashlight we found. Tell me if they're big, small or normal.”

Joey leans down and takes a peak at both of Dr. Wells’ eyes, quickly shining a light in both of them. “They look normal,” he says, “so why would she faint?”

“It’s been a long day,” Buck replies, feeling a bit numb as he stares at Dr. Wells. “And… she— she was in a lot of pain so… it makes sense. She might be in shock. We, uh… we probably all are. Help should be coming soon—” He cuts himself off when something glares in his eyes. Buck squints for a moment, but soon two small boats come into view with emergency responders inside. Letting out a laugh that feels more hysterical than anything else, Buck squeezes Christopher. “Looks like we’re getting out of here, buddy.”

“Thank goodness!” Christopher says, letting out a laugh of his own. His, by some miracle, actually does sound joyous. Buck isn’t sure how Christopher stays so happy, but he thinks he could learn a lesson or two from him. God, there isn’t much he loves more in this world than this little boy, if anything. He’s known him for only a little over a year and there’s very little Buck wouldn’t do for him. If Christopher had fallen back in the water, there’s no doubt he would have dived in after him.

As the boats get closer, Buck starts to recognize the faces of the first responders inside. It takes him no time at all to realize it’s not just any firefighters, it’s the 118, his family. He could burst out crying just at that. Though he loves Christopher and couldn’t have gotten through this mess without him, now he really needs other adults to help him figure this out.

Biting his lip, Buck tries to shove down the worry he feels bubbling in his chest. Before, all his thoughts were about Christopher and how mad Eddie would be, now though at the forefront of his mind is Dr. Wells. The only person Buck ever told about her to was Bobby and when he did tell him, he’s quite certain the captain assumed it happened consensually after the session. During that time, Buck could barely accept what happened to him — he can’t even now — so he never told Bobby anything else. Besides, she was fired, so at least he didn’t have to face her again. Or, he thought he wouldn’t have to.

“Buck?” Bobby sees him first, eyebrows pursing in worry as he takes in the sight of the young man and the boy to his right.

At the mention of his name, Eddie jumps from where he’d been sitting at the back of the raft, and heads to the opposite end. Eyes wide with horror, Eddie grabs onto the side of the truck, quickly anchoring it to the boat before he gets off. “Buck? Christopher?” he asks breathlessly, kneeling down in front of the two of them. Behind him, the rest of the 118 falter at the sight of Buck and Chris, but they have jobs to do, so they start loading the others onto the rafts. “What— what happened?”

“I…” Buck sobs, bowing his head down so his chin is resting against his chest. “I took him to the pier.” He shakes his head back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I didn’t— I just wanted—”

“None of that,” Eddie interrupts him, cupping Buck’s cheek with his hand as his other hand goes to Christopher’s face. “It was— Buck, a natural disaster happened. I’m just glad you guys are okay.” He thumbs at Buck’s tears, the two of them finally making eye contact, and like usual Eddie reads his best friend's mind. “You… you’re both alright, right?”

Buck glances at Christopher, then back at Eddie. “Um…”

Swallowing thickly, Eddie pulls Christopher in for a bone crushing hug, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. It’s clear it pains Eddie to let his son go, but he starts to lift him up, reaching him over to Bobby. “Alright, Chris, you gotta get on the boat,” he says, only turning away once Christopher is safe with their captain. He turns back to Buck, seeming to finally notice the little bundle in his lap. Eddie only looks at her briefly, though, before his gaze is back on Buck. “...did something happen? You look… like…” He seems at a loss for words.

“I’ll leave you now that your husband is here,” Maria says quietly, though it’s clear Eddie hears from the way a slow blush creeps up his neck, before she heads over to the other side of the truck to give them some space as she waits for it to be her turn to get on the raft.

“What happened, Buck?” Eddie asks softly. “Whatever it is, tell me. I will never, ever, leave you. I promise. We can get through it together. I got your back, remember?”

Sniffling, Buck takes in a hiccuping breath, trying to regain his bearings. It’s as though the moment Eddie arrived, his body felt safe to finally let out how he’s been feeling. However, if he doesn’t stop crying, there’s no way he’ll be able to tell Eddie. “That woman,” Buck whispers even though Dr. Wells is still knocked out. He nods his head at her, Eddie glances briefly to see who he’s referring to. There’s already a fire behind his eyes, before Buck has even said anything. “She… Her last name is Wells, I-I don’t know her first name.” Eddie nods, wiping another tear off of Buck’s cheek. Behind them, they send off the first life raft once they realize they’ll have to do more than one trip. Bobby, Christopher, Hen, and Chimney are still in their raft, but don’t try and butt into the conversation. “Before you joined the 118, during my probationary year, I lost this kid named Devon…” Buck swallows over the lump in his throat. “I wasn’t… handling it.”

“The first loss is hard,” Eddie agrees, now becoming more aware of the baby in Buck’s arms, eyebrows pulling in a bit of confusion. “Hey, Buck… do you want me to pass her to—?”

“No!” Buck exclaims, jumping back in surprise at his own tone of voice.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Eddie nods easily. “Okay, that’s alright… just, uh, finish what you were saying.”

Sheepishly, Buck ducks his head down. “Um… so Bobby thought it would be a good idea if I went to therapy. I hadn’t ever gone before, but I wasn’t opposed, so I took the business card of a LAFD therapist.” He sucks in a sudden breath, the memory of Dr. Wells’ hands all over him hitting him like a train. “Fuck, I— God, I’m sorry. I… I haven’t ever told anyone this.”

“It’s okay, cariño.” Something warms in Buck’s chest and he knows he wants to hear Eddie call him that for the rest of his life. The brunet man brushes back Buck’s curls. “Take your time.”

After tucking his shirt closer to the baby, Buck takes a steadier breath. “The therapist was Dr. Wells, that woman that left on the first raft,” he explains. “She… when I saw her… some lines were crossed.” Eddie tilts his head, not understanding. “This, uh… this would have been about a year and a half ago.”

Eddie’s eyes travel to the bundle in Buck’s arms and his face goes white. “Buck— Evan, are you… are you saying that…?” he trails off, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “What do you mean?”

“She slept with me,” Buck finally gets out in a rush of air, more tears welling in his eyes now. “In-In the session and… I-I’m sorry.” He’s not sure why he apologizes, it just feels like he should, especially with the way Eddie’s eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t… I didn’t have any, uh, protection with me because…”

“Because you were going to therapy,” Eddie finishes for him, a mixture of anger and despair lacing every word he says. “That— I am so, so sorry that happened to you, cariño. Please, don’t— don’t you ever apologize to me for that.”

Feeling defeated, Buck gives a shrug. “It’s not something I ever wanted to have to talk about, but now…” He looks at his baby girl. “She— I don’t want her anywhere near my baby.”

“We won’t let her,” Eddie says, so certain Buck almost believes it. He looks down at the baby, eyes crinkling fondly as he brings a finger up to swipe at the girl’s cheek. Blue eyes flutter open to see Eddie and she smiles. “Gosh… She looks just like you, Buck. Even her smile.”

Buck laughs wetly. “Good, it wasn’t just in my head. I thought it might just be the day getting to me.”

The raft pulls back in behind them and Eddie looks nervously at Buck. “I know… I know you don’t want to let her go, but… Could I hold her the ride over?” he asks carefully. “They need to look you over in the boat and… you’re shaking.”

Hesitating only for a moment, Buck nods, and holds the baby out for Eddie. This is his best friend and he’s not going to let anything happen to his baby. “Lets get out of here.”

Carefully, Buck maneuvers himself to the side of the truck, taking Bobby’s hand when the man reaches out to help. He doesn’t do a lot, it’s mostly Bobby lifting him into the raft, but Buck can’t find it in himself to complain. Especially not when Bobby pulls Buck against his warm chest. Buck didn’t even realize how cold he was until now.

“Who’s this?” Bobby asks, smiling as he gestures to the baby. “Do we know where the parents are?”

Eddie looks at Buck, allowing him to decide if he wants to say it. After mulling it over with many hesitations, Buck decides he should probably just tell everyone. He won’t be going into detail, however he really doesn’t want to have to deal with it all later. Buck gives Eddie a nod.

“Um, she’s mine,” Buck states, shrinking further into Bobby’s hold when Chimney and Hen’s heads snap over to look at him in complete shock. His captain only furrows his brows, holding up a hand to make sure the others don’t say anything before Buck is done. “Um… well, you remember me going to therapy after my first loss? About a year and a half ago, and… uh, I think she’s about ten months or so.”

Chimney glances over at Christopher to see the child still asleep, then turns to the group. “Wait, wait, you slept with your therapist?” he asks, shaking his head in confusion. “Why did we not hear about this? You used to tell us all the gory details of your sex life.”

Bobby and Chimney don’t get it. But, the glossed over look to Hen’s eyes tells the blond man that she does, completely. It makes him feel the smallest bit better. Emphasis on small.

“She was let go from both the LAFD and LAPD after that,” Bobby replies. When Hen gives him a bewildered look mixed with something protective and angry, he leans back a bit, keeping Buck close. “What? Having sex with patients is illegal for a full two years after treating them.”

Scoffing, Hen kneels down so she can take a look at Buck’s leg. “Yeah, and did you even bother to ask if it was after the appointment or during?” she snaps. Though his leg is very sore, Buck is pretty sure he didn’t injure it badly, and she seems to realize the same as she lets it go. Hen looks up at Buck, wincing as she considers her previous words. “Sorry, Buckaroo.”

“It’s okay,” he says back quietly. “I was… trying to figure a way to get… there.”

Bobby’s whole body is tense as he turns Buck so the younger man has to look at him. “Buck, I— I just assumed— I shouldn't have assumed—” Tears well up in his eyes and Bobby quickly tries to blink them away. “I’m sorry, Buck. That shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Buck says, looking over at where Eddie holds the baby. They look beautiful together. The brunet man is smiling down at her like she’s his own and it makes something hopeful swell in Buck’s heart. Then, however, it’s quickly stomped out by one simple reality; he and Eddie are best friends, nothing more. Also, if he can’t work through the trauma of what happened, who knows if Buck will even be able to keep her? “I didn’t even… realize it at the time… you know, what had really happened.”

Chimney, with a deep frown, gestures at the baby. “So first she…” he trails off, looking away, clearly unable to make himself say what happened. Though Buck and Chimney may poke fun at one another a lot, it’s times like these where he really feels like a protective older brother. “And, then she didn’t even tell you she had your kid?”

“It’s just evidence of what happened… to me, I guess.” Buck rubs his forehead, shutting his eyes. “God, I’m so fucking exhausted. I haven’t even thought about that day in so long, I didn’t want to have to. But, now?”

“You’re under no,” — Hen places a hand on his knee — “absolutely no obligation to raise that baby, Buck. Especially if it’ll only serve as a reminder of what happened.”

Opening his eyes again, Buck pulls a face. “So, what? I just send her back to that— that monster?”

“Of course not,” Hen says, shaking her head with a frown. “There are other ways to deal with what happened. Ways that don’t involve you having to raise the result of… something so traumatic and horrific.”

Sniffling, Buck wipes his nose against his sleeve. “Yeah, I… I know that, guys. And, it won’t, in any way, be easy, I get that.” He looks back at the baby. Eddie is now focused on the conversation, but the baby has her little fist wrapped around his index finger. Buck smiles, blinded by his tears for a moment before they fall down. God, he’s so sick of crying. “But… but look at her. She’s… she’s my baby. And I-I’m not saying it’ll be a simple adjustment. It’ll be… shit, it’ll probably feel like I went through hell and back afterwards. But, when I look at her… I don’t see what happened to me… not fully, I can block it out, you know? And, when I do, I just see… her. A baby. My baby, who needs someone to love her. That’s all I ever wanted from my parents growing up… and the only person who ever gave that to me was Maddie. I don’t want her ever having to grow up knowing pain or loneliness. I want… I want a great life for her, full of laughter… and me. If— you know, if I can get there. I think I’ll be good.”

Hen is smiling up at him now, tears training down her cheeks, and Bobby pulls him impossibly closer, resting his chin on Buck’s head. “Then, we’ll support you through this whole process.” He brushes Buck’s hair back in such a parental way it makes Buck want to cry more, but he forces himself to keep it in. “And, of course you’ll be good, Buck. We’ll help you work through it all, I promise.”

“Actually, there is one thing I think I’ll need right when we get to shore,” Buck says, frowning as the thought of Dr. Wells dares to enter his mind.

“Anything,” Bobby states easily, like it’s the most true thing in this world.

Buck smiles. “I need you to call Athena, if you can get ahold of her. I need her help on this because I honestly don’t even know where to start with trying to file for parental rights, but I think getting Wells arrested will help.”

Chapter Text

Turns out it’s not that simple.

In order to get Clara Wells — Buck finally learned her first name — arrested, they would need to take DNA swabs from Buck, Clara, and the baby girl — who, naturally, was also named Clara. Once they confirm Buck is the father, then Wells will be arrested right away, and they’ll have to bring her to court. However, DNA results can take up to a month to come back, so in the meantime, his baby girl will have to go into foster care while they wait.

Athena reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder, and looks down at the baby in his arms. She can’t help but smile, it seems, despite the fact that a couple of minutes ago, while Buck was telling her what happened, she looked close to committing murder. “She’s a mini Buck,” Athena says, “she looks just like you.”

“That’s what people keep saying, huh, Clara?” Buck grimaces at the way the name leaves his lips. He sighs. “She doesn’t react when I say her name, it’s like she’s never been called it before.”

“Well, when you first got here, I sent her name to one of my detectives,” Athena says, back to frowning as she pulls out her phone. “Aparatenly your baby girl spends more time in day care than with— that woman.” Buck noticed right away that Athena refused to call Wells her mother and he’s glad for it. She looks at Buck softly. “Maybe you can give her a new name, baby. After all, she’s yours, not that monster’s.” Buck also appreciated the fact that Athena didn’t doubt him like the others. He knows it won’t be easy to learn how to separate what happened to him with the baby in front of him, to learn how to heal from what happened, but he wants to try. He really does.

Buck frowns, glancing over at Eddie who hasn’t left his side since they got off the raft. (Christopher is fast asleep in his arms.) “I don’t want to confuse her.”

“You won’t,” Eddie says quickly, giving a firm shake of his head. “She doesn’t even know her own name yet.”

“Yeah, but—” Buck is cut off by a sob. “She-She has to go to foster care, so… we-we won’t be able to see her for a while…”

Athena has her murder expression back on as she reaches out to smooth her hand against the side of Buck’s face. She briefly glances at Bobby who looks completely distraught after having to hear the full story, then looks back at the man in front of her. “Baby.” Buck doesn’t look up, so Athena uses her other hand to tap him under the chin. “I’m talking to you, Firefighter Buckley.” The look in her eyes is so determined, that no matter what she says next, Buck knows he’s going to believe her. “I have this all handled.”

And, yeah, Buck never really doubted that. Athena always knows what to do. Of course he wanted her here because she’s an amazing cop, but Buck also needed the reassurance she provides.

The VA hospital is starting to slow down and Buck knows that soon he’ll have to let CPS take the baby away. He hates everything. He hates that they’re taking her. He hates that he’s a little glad he’ll have time away so that he can adjust to everything. He hates it all. One thing he can’t hate though, is his family. They always help him, no matter what.

“You promise?” Buck asks, trying not to feel pathetic when it comes out in a stammer.

“I promise,” Athena says. She looks down at the baby again, placing one hand over top of Buck’s where it holds his baby close. “Now, what is your beautiful girl’s name?”

For a moment, Buck pauses, staring down at her. “I think… I think she looks like…” He smiles a little. “Uh, when Mads and I were little, we used to sneak out, and go to this pond not too far from our house. There were these beautiful white flowers all around.” He looks back up at the others. “When I got older, I learned they were Jasmine flowers. And I… I always liked that name.”

Athena smiles softly, still looking at the baby. “Jasmine. It’s beautiful.”

“But, what’s her nickname?” Eddie pipes up, flashing Buck a smile when the blond man rolls his eyes. “Come on, she’s not officially a part of the family until she has one.”

Buck shrugs one shoulder. “I think; Jaz.” He takes a deep breath in, feeling a little more settled. “Jasmine Roberta Maddie Buckley.”

They all pretend not to notice the way Bobby tears up.

“P-Perfect,” Bobby comments, stepping closer so he can look over Buck’s shoulder.

Athena reaches out to take her husband’s hand. “We’re grandparents now.”

Now they can’t pretend not to notice the tears falling from Bobby’s eyes. He nods when Buck looks up at him a bit self consciously, but with eyes full of hope. “We sure are,” Bobby agrees, trying his best to blink back his tears as he reaches his free hand up to gently brush Jasmine on the cheek. “We’re going to spoil you so bad.”

Buck smiles, but it feels a little bittersweet. “I don’t want to let her go stay with strangers.”

“Well… don’t you worry about that,” Athena says, glancing behind her and smiling at something. Buck pulls his eyebrows together and turns to see what she’s looking at. Hen is heading towards them, out of her work clothes now, and Karen is joining her, obviously just having arrived from home. “I got that all sorted out. I may… have a friend or two in high places.”

Hen and Karen, hand in hand, join them all. “Hey, Buck,” Karen greets, “just came to say hello to our foster daughter.”

Smiling, Eddie stands up from where he was sitting, adjusting his hold on Christopher. “You guys are going to foster Jasmine for Buck?” he asks.

“Oh, did you name her?” Hen exclaims happily, smiling gently when Buck gives a small nod. “Good choice and of course we are. There’s nothing we’d rather do.”

Karen steps forward, looking from Jasmine to Buck. “Hen told me… I hope that was okay with you.”

“Yeah, it, um, is actually easier than having to say it over and over.” A few stray tears escape his eyes and he lets out a huff. “Sorry, I can’t stop crying. I just— thank you so much.”

“Oh, baby, can I give you a hug?” When Buck nods, Karen pulls him into her arms, mindful of the baby between them. She’s always been the best at hugs. They’re warm, tight but gentle, and they make you feel like no matter what everything will be okay. “You’re going to get through this. You’re going to heal, and grow, and learn how to turn this horrible thing that happened to you into something positive. You are so strong. We’re all here for you and you can come visit your baby girl whenever you’d like, okay? You can even sleep over every once and a while, but we just have to be careful because we don’t want anyone to find out we know each other.”

When they pull apart, Buck stares down at Jasmine. They lock eyes and Buck hopes that somehow her little baby brain will see a promise in his eyes. “I love you so much already, Jaz,” Buck whispers to her, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. “I won’t let us lose any more time. I won’t let anything from the past ruin this. I won’t let you carry any of that weight, I’m going to deal with that, okay? You leave it all to me.” With one last sniffle, Buck holds out Jasmine for Karen to take.

Karen frowns as she takes the baby. “You’ll be together soon, I promise. You just go home and take care of yourself. After the day you’ve had… you need it, Buck.”

“I know,” Buck says, and before he can stop himself he lets out another sob. Pressing his hand into his mouth, Buck quickly shakes his head when everyone around him reaches out, unsure how to soothe him. This day has been so incredibly hard, it’s brought up so much trauma, it’s created new trauma, and also gifted him something that at first will be painful, but will become nothing but beautiful. “I-I’m fine. I’m so… sorry you guys. It’s just… a-a lot.” His breaths are too quick and even to his own ears he sounds absolutely horrible, but they do start to back off a bit.

“We have to get stuff set up for her,” Hen says, frowning at the idea of finally pulling them apart. “And, a social worker is coming by to talk to us, but we’re going to call you, okay? We’ll facetime.”

Chimney catches the tail end of the conversation and puts an arm around Buck’s shoulders. (Or, at least, as high as he can reach.) “Hey, Buck, why don’t you stay at Maddie’s tonight?” Chimney suggests, eyeing the way Buck wobbles unsteadily. Buck hates that they’re all seeing him so weak and, worse, that he can’t do anything to stop it all. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

“Maddie’s working until late,” Buck says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck. I still ha-have to tell her about… all this.”

“He won’t be alone,” Eddie assures, stepping forward and pressing his shoulder into Buck’s. With Christopher in his arms, he can’t hold Buck steady properly, but being able to lean against him, even a little, helps. “Buck’s coming home with me and Christopher.” Buck is about to protest, weakly, but nonetheless, a protest, when Eddie stops him. “Ah, ah, ah, I don’t wanna hear it. Christopher is going to want his Buck and I think you need him too. Then, tomorrow, Chim, why don’t you bring Maddie over for breakfast? Buck can talk to her about everything.”

Chimney pales a little. “I, uh, I have to keep a secret?”

“Oh my God,” Hen scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Chimney, grow a backbone, it’s just one night. Go to sleep before she gets home, then in the morning ask her if she wants to see Buck. She’s going to say yes because of the tsunami, she’ll want to check on him.”

“Yeah, um, I can do this,” Chimney confirms, giving Buck a weary smile when the blond man glares at him. “You can count on me, Buckaroo.”

“Well, now that that’s settled, we should get going,” Eddie says, quickly trying to change the subject before Buck tries to do something stupid like strangle Chimney. With how horrible he’s feeling, he would probably collapse within seconds of trying, but still. “You and Christopher need to shower the day off and get some sleep.” Adjusting Christopher so he’s balanced on his one hip, Eddie uses his now free arm to forcibly direct Buck away from Jasmine. It’s probably a good idea considering Buck really wasn’t planning on leaving. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Athena leans up, pressing a kiss to Buck’s cheek. “You call us, alright, baby?” When Buck nods she smiles. “Good. Remember; we love you and we will always protect you.”

More tears slip down Buck’s cheeks. “I love you too.”

“We’ll message the group chat and update everyone tomorrow,” Eddie says. “Call us if you have any new information or if anything changes. And, uh, Bobby I’m going to have to take the day off tomorrow.”

Bobby hums in confirmation and Buck should really argue against it, but he has no fight left in him.

With that, Buck, Eddie, and Christopher are finally leaving the VA hospital, putting the day quite literally behind them. They have to get on a truck with a bunch of other random people to get dropped off at the firehouse. All around them are people crying and whispering with one another, but the two firefighters stay quiet.

When they’re dropped at the firehouse, they both silently make their ways to Eddie’s truck. Though his work bag is probably inside, it’s clear Eddie has no energy left to grab it, and Buck doesn’t make a comment. This second ride is just as quiet as the first up until the moment when Christopher starts to stir awake after Eddie hits a particularly harsh bump in the road.

“Buck?” he mumbles sleepily. It absolutely makes Buck’s heart melt. Instead of asking for Eddie, he’s asking for Buck.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m right here,” Buck replies, reaching back to give his knee a squeeze. “I’m going to have a sleepover at your house tonight.”

Christopher smiles, adjusting his glasses. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Buck lets go of Christopher’s knee so he can properly turn to look back at the child. “And, tomorrow morning, Maddie and Chimney are going to come over for breakfast.”

“Yay!” Christopher exclaims, pumping a fist up. “It’ll be like a picnic!”

Eddie pulls a confused yet amused expression. “Probably not exactly like a picnic.” He takes a turn onto their street, shrugging a shoulder. “But I’m sure you can convince us to all eat outside. If it’s a nice day.”

Buck likes how Eddie pretends to be strict, but can’t help but give in to Christopher’s wishes. Everyone already knows it’ll be a nice day. It’s late August in California, sun is a guarantee.

“Okay, Dad,” Christopher agrees, still smiling brightly. “You know, Buck saved me.”

Buck startles a little at the sudden mention of the tsunami, unable to look over at Eddie. “I know, sweetheart,” the brunet man says and Buck can feel his gaze.

“We were at the very front,” Christopher continues as they pull into the driveway. “And, Buck carried me and ran. Then we swam like Dory to find each other, then he brought me to a firetruck. And we played lots of games. We played I Spy the most and I won, right, Buck?”

Blinking at the tears of relief that fill his eyes, Buck nods sharply. “Y-Yeah, buddy, you did.”

Christopher survived a tsunami and he’s talking about the games they played. This kid is incredible.

Finally, Buck looks over at Eddie and he finds that his best friend is wearing the same expression as him. It may be a good thing that Christopher is so young, he can still find the beauty in everything. Even a tsunami.

“Alright, my boys,” Eddie says, unbuckling his seatbelt, “we’re home. Let's get you both inside.”

As Buck’s heart flutters at the way Buck refers to him as his and the house as theirs, Eddie rounds his vehicle to let Christopher out first. The boy seems to feel slightly less tired and he walks himself to the door. Eddie then opens up Buck’s door, waiting until he’s out before he starts to head for the house himself.

Eddie tells Buck to wait in the living room as he quickly gets Christopher ready for bed and Buck doesn’t even question why. It doesn’t take Eddie very long anyhow, probably half an hour at the most before he’s joining Buck again in the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

“Is Christopher okay?” Buck asks shakily, eyebrows pulling together as he looks at Eddie.

Humming, Eddie carefully picks up Buck’s bad leg and starts to massage it carefully with his thumbs. “Yup, out like a light,” he confirms, obviously unaware of the way Buck’s heart slams into his ribcage at the contact. “How is your leg feeling? I saw you limping.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh,” Buck begins, completely distracted by Eddie’s fingers to form a coherent thought, “sore.”

Eddie lets out a light laugh, continuing to work his fingers over Buck’s leg. “Yeah, I figured as much, due to the limping I mentioned,” he says. “I bet a warm shower will make you feel better. You can get changed into my clothes, they probably will be a touch too small, but I do have some oversized hoodies so…” Eddie winces. “Though, I don’t know how you feel about wearing my underwear.”

Letting out a laugh that’s mostly a huff of air, Buck shrugs. “As long as it’s clean, it doesn't bother me, Eddie. I’m so tired right now I would wear just about anything.”

“Noted,” Eddie says, letting go of Buck’s leg and starting to stand back up. “Okay, let's get going then, you need sleep.”

Wordlessly, the two firefighters head into Eddie’s room. Buck stands awkwardly in the bathroom doorway as Eddie rummages around for clothes. In five minutes, Eddie is handing him an oversized grey hoodie, a pair of worn out basketball shorts, and a pair of boxers. His best friend tells him to use any of his products he likes and with that, Buck is closing the bathroom door.

He’s too tired to really care about getting clean, Buck’s main goal is to wash off the sand. Using Eddie’s shampoo, Buck shuts his eyes as the smell of eucalyptus fills his nostrils. He focuses on that scent, trying not to think of anything else. Scrubbing his hair fast, he’s done cleaning it in about five minutes before he moves on to quickly wash his body with a bar of soap.

Getting the last of the sand out from behind his ear, Buck shuts the water off, and steps out. His leg protests briefly but he ignores it and quickly starts drying himself with the extra red towel he finds under the sink. He rubs his hair into the towel, then hangs it over the empty hook on the back of the bathroom door, and moves onto getting dressed.

Eddie’s right, the clothes are slightly too small. The shorts only make it halfway down his thigh, however they’re still relatively loose so Buck doesn’t mind. Eddie’s hoodie fits him a little better, but the sleeves don’t quite make it to the bottom of his wrists.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Buck is surprised to see Eddie sitting on his bed, talking on the phone. He has it in front of him, so it’s obvious he’s on facetime, and that’s when it comes back to Buck that Hen said she would give him a call.

Making his way across the room, Buck joins Eddie on his bed, sitting back against the pillows to his friend’s left. Eddie smiles at Buck, turning the phone. “Guess who’s out of the shower,” he says.

“Oh, hey, Buckaroo,” Hen says, “perfect timing.” She flips the camera around, showing a baby monitor in her hands. On the monitor, Jasmine is asleep in a crib, looking peaceful. It settles something anxious in Buck’s gut that he hadn’t realized was gnawing at him. “You see?”

“Yeah,” Buck replies, letting out a slow breath. “Thank you so much, Hen. Really, I’m so grateful that you and Karen are doing this for me.”

Turning the camera back, Hen is giving him a look that is half-amused, half-annoyed. “Buck, of course we are, we’re a family.” Her expression flips into a smile. “Jaz is our niece and Denny had a nice time getting to know his cousin before she fell asleep.” As if reading Buck’s mind, Hen continues on. “Believe me, though, she would much prefer to be with you. The second you guys walked away, she started to cry. I think she already feels bonded to you.”

Buck presses his lips together, not trusting himself to speak. Eddie seems to understand as he turns the phone back to facing him. “Well, we’ll let you go now, thank you for calling to update us.”

“Have a good night,” she says before hanging up the call.

Running a hand through his hair, Buck lets out a breath, willing the lump in his throat to go away. “Alright, I guess I should go get set up on the couch.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Shut up, you’re sleeping in here.”

Giving him a look, Buck says, “Eddie.”

“Buck,” Eddie mocks him, copying his expression until Buck lets out a sigh and it makes him laugh. “Come on, man, we’ve had to share before, we can again. You had a long day, you shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.” It seems he can see Buck is close to caving because when he can’t come up with a response right away, Eddie continues. “Unless of course, you want me to go wake up Chris, so you can sleep in his bed, and he can stay with me. You know, if you’re afraid of getting cooties.”

Buck gives Eddie a shove before starting to pull back the covers. “I hate you.” He snuggles right into the bed, letting out a sigh as he lays his head onto the pillow.

“Sure you do,” Eddie agrees sarcastically, getting under the covers as well, a smile teasing his lips. “And, Christopher hates your pancakes.”

“Don’t even joke,” Buck says, “Chris hears all and he likes me better than you.”

Eddie smirks. “True… Goodnight, Buck.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Buck feels himself relax against the mattress and he knows that has a lot to do with the fact that he’s not sleeping alone tonight. Maybe that’s the real reason why Eddie told him to sleep with him, he’s gotten pretty good at reading Buck’s mind. Either way, he’s always felt safer when there’s someone else in his bed, especially after going through something difficult. Maddie used to squeeze into Buck’s twin sized bed whenever their parents would yell at him or if he had a bad dream. He hopes he’s half the parent Maddie was to Buck for Jasmine. “And… thank you.”

“Always, Buck. Always for you.”

Which… probably means nothing.

“So, how was Christopher?” Buck asks, voice quiet. “I, uh, didn’t traumatize him too much, did I?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, however it comes out strained. Though the man had tried to shield Christopher from all the death and carnage, he’s not sure how well he succeeded.

Reaching out, Eddie finds Buck’s hand under the covers, and laces their fingers together. “Hey, Evan Buckley, look at me.” As always, Eddie sees right through him. For a moment, Buck can’t make himself face his best friend, but after a shaky breath, he forces himself to turn his head. The brunet has a fierceness in his eyes that warms something in Buck’s chest. “You— I can’t express enough how grateful I am to you. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.” Tearfully, Buck rolls his eyes, advertising his gaze to the wall. “Hey.” Eddie reaches his free hand up to cup Buck’s face, turning it back. “I’m serious, Evan. He—” Cutting off and making a sound that’s half laugh, half scoff, Buck can only blink in amazement at the pure amount of wonderment on Eddie’s face. “Buck, Christopher was in the bath telling me that tsunamis aren’t that big of a deal.”

Letting out a surprised laugh as a few tears escape his eyes, Buck is so happy that Christopher is such an amazing kid.

Eddie catches the tears with his thumb, frowning. “That is because of you, by the way,” he says. “The reason he thinks they aren’t a big deal is all you, querido. I’m sure there will be trauma he needs to work through, he told me how scary it was when you two were separated, but the reason this won’t be the worst day of his life is because of you. You found him, you protected him.”

“He almost fell back in,” Buck admits in a whisper.

“But he didn’t,” Eddie says firmly. “And, even if he had, the other waves after the first one were small, he probably would have been okay. You were there, I have no doubt you would have jumped in after him, and searched for hours if you had to in order to find him again.” Eddie lets his hand drop from Buck’s face, then squeezes the other hand he’s still holding. “Please, stop blaming yourself and let yourself get some rest.”

When Buck finally gives in and shuts his eyes, he expects Eddie to let go of his hand. Only, he doesn’t, so Buck isn’t about to be the one to let go first. He tries to keep the bad memories out of his mind, but the dead bodies floating in the water flash behind his eyes, and he draws in a long wobbly breath. This may not be one of the worst days of Christopher’s life, but it sure has been for Buck.

So quick he has no time to process what’s happening, Eddie maneuvers the hand he’s holding of Buck's, wrapping it around the blond’s stomach, then pulls him against his chest. Eddie tucks his face against Buck’s back, tangling their feet together. Tears well back up in Buck’s eyes, but he closes them before they can fall, focusing on the steady thump of Eddie’s heart he can feel on his back. His breath comes easier now, their hands rising and falling as his stomach expands and contracts.

“I— I turned him away from the dead bodies,” Buck says, eyes still shut as his voice fills up the previously quiet room. His voice is thick with emotion and he’s sure Eddie can hear it. “We were playing I Spy so I could face him away from all-all the dead bodies. But I— God, Eds, I saw them all. Some were just— and I know I’m a firefighter, or I was, but I’ve never seen this many dead bodies in one day before. There were— fucking body parts everywhere, blood, and-and just—” He cuts himself off, nauseous at the thought of all the carnage he saw.

Eddie hums softly and the sound vibrates against Buck’s spine. “I know, it’s okay, cariño,” he murmurs, “you’re going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel that way now, but I promise you. I swear to God, I’ll never let you and Christopher go through something like this ever again. I can’t even imagine how scary it was without your gear or any of the team.” He tightens his arm around Buck. “But, I have you now and I’m not going to let you go. Ever. Okay?”

“...okay.”

Chapter Text

Roasting coffee is the smell that wakes Buck up in the morning. Throughout the night, somehow, he only had one bad dream, and it was about the tsunami, not Wells. While it wasn’t good, after Eddie brought him to Christopher’s room to show him he was okay, Buck fell right back to sleep.

Turning his head to the side, Buck finds Eddie isn’t in bed anymore. The covers are pulled back where he got up and the door is opened just a crack. Yawning, Buck rolls over to Eddie’s side of the bed, since it’s closest to the door, fully intending to get up, but then he pauses. His face is pressed into Eddie’s pillow and it smells so much like him, that Buck gets a surge of warmth filling his chest, a feeling both familiar but new. He knows this is weird, smelling your best friend’s pillow is definitely a weird thing to do, but even Eddie’s smell brings him such comfort that he can’t help but wrap his arms around it, and pull it close.

Buck is absolutely pathetic.

And, he doesn’t give a shit.

Fine, he’s in love with Eddie or something. It’s something he can admit to himself in the quiet back corners of his mind, like the places in a home that no one ever visits, because it’s safe for them there. Buck would never dare to bring those wants to the forefront of his mind. If he did, he might do something stupid like confess his everlasting love for Edmundo Diaz. It exists, but only in that space where no one will find it. That way, it can’t hurt anyone. It can’t ruin his and Eddie’s friendship, it can’t ruin his relationship with Christopher. Sure, its presence may cause Buck to feel melancholy and unwanted, but there is very little he wouldn’t do to remain in Eddie’s life.

That’s… probably unhealthy. Maddie would say so, but it’s how Buck feels.

Letting go of Eddie’s pillow, Buck forces himself to sit up. He scrubs a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts as he stares at the ground. This process is going to be… difficult to say the least. It’ll be full of reliving trauma; having to repeat the story, having to see Clara Wells, having to wait and wait and wait for a justice he might not get.

Sighing, Buck finally stands, stretching out his bad leg briefly before he heads out of the room. He’s still limping, but hopefully after a day of resting, it’ll feel better by tomorrow.

Eddie is in the kitchen, standing by the coffee maker, and when Buck walks in, he smiles. “Hey, how are you feeling, querido?” His expression fades a little when he sees Buck limp. “Your leg still bothering you?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” Buck says as he takes a seat at the table, “it gets like this sometimes, even when I haven’t just been in a tsunami.”

Sitting down diagonal from Buck, Eddie holds out his hand, a silent offer to rub Buck’s leg again. After hesitating for a moment, he lifts his leg up. For Christopher’s physical therapy, Eddie has told Buck that he learned a few different techniques that make the kid’s legs feel better, so it’s not as if he’s in bad hands. Buck lets out a breath he didn’t realize was stuck in his throat as Eddie starts needing the skin of his bare calf. In this light, his scar from the ladder truck accident is clear, and Buck’s pretty sure this is the first time Eddie is seeing it up close. He doesn’t flinch.

“Chim and Maddie should be here soon,” Eddie says quietly, as if not to spook Buck, but the blond man tenses anyhow. “You’re nervous to tell her?”

Buck works his jaw, then shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah,” he admits, “I know she won’t judge me or blame me. It’s just… I’m really tired of crying and feeling so… shitty all the time.”

“That won’t go away,” Eddie says, looking away from Buck’s leg briefly so he can look him in the eyes, “not until you talk to someone.”

Scoffing, Buck can’t help as a disgusted and rage filled expression covers his face. “Are you seriously suggesting I go to therapy to talk to a therapist about the therapist who sexually assaulted me?” he snaps.

Eddie pauses his movement momentarily. “Buck, it won’t happen again, I won’t let it,” he insists, grabbing Buck gently under the chin when he looks away so he can turn his head back. “Hey, I know you want to be fine and perfect for Jasmine, but you’re not there, Buck. It’s not that simple. You need to talk to someone. I promise, we’re going to figure it out. I’m sure there are places that offer online sessions and I’m also positive you can bring someone with you for the first couple sessions.”

For a moment, the only sound is Buck breathing as he tries to calm himself. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Eddie’s patience. “What if…” he trails off, trying to choose his words carefully, “what if they wait until I’m alone and say something or do something that…” His breath hitches, a flash of Clara Wells entering his mind, and he pulls his leg away from Eddie so suddenly that he knocks it against the fridge. “Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, eyes wide as he raises his hands up where Buck can see them.

Buck starts shaking his head, flexing the muscles in his leg for a moment, and wincing. After taking a deep breath and steadying himself, Buck lifts his leg back up to Eddie’s lap. The brunet man is still looking unsure and Buck feels himself flush. “I-I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” he tells him. “Just… uh, a lot of memories are… coming up to the surface.” Slowly, Eddie lowers his hands back down to continue massaging Buck’s leg. “I kind of… blocked a lot out and now… it’s sorta just coming back in flashes.”

Nodding in sympathy and understanding, Eddie eyes Buck warily, clearly worried about him. “Look, I know you don’t like the idea. And, obviously it’s completely understandable. Buck, I— I have no idea how that would feel, if I would ever be able to go back to therapy after that. But, I do think it’s a good idea, especially if you’re going to be going through with getting full custody of Jasmine. And, if you do want to do therapy online, I’m sure we could figure out a way to make you feel more comfortable. You could text me if something happens — or, uh, someone else — and whoever it is could come in to help you. We could see if it would be okay to record the sessions. Or, someone could sit in the same room with you until you feel comfortable to be alone and we just wouldn't tell them so you could see you’re safe, even by yourself.”

“And, if I never feel safe?” Buck asks, not snapping or angry this time, just quiet and scared.

“Then,” — Eddie pauses, pursing his lips to the side, before his face lights up — “then, someone could sit in for every session wearing noise cancelling headphones and if you need help, you just have to wave to get their attention.”

Buck lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh, yeah? Who would do that?”

“I would,” Eddie answers, not hesitating for even one second. His brown eyes bore into Buck’s blue ones. He searches and searches for any hint of a lie, but comes up with nothing. Being cared for this strongly is… weird. Yeah, that’s what Buck feels; weird. Extremely weird.

A knock at the door — thank fucking God — interrupts them. Eddie gently lets go of Buck’s leg, heading into the hallway to knock on Christopher’s door. “Chris, our guests are here!” he calls out, then heads through the dining room and living room to the front door.

Buck can’t see or hear them very much, but soon his sister and Chimney are entering the room. Maddie rushes up to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “God, Evan, I was worried sick about you.” She pulls away, grabbing the bottom of his face, trying to look at him angrily, but her tears give her away. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me?”

“I promise,” Buck says, smiling as he brings up his pinky.

Linking her own pinky with Buck’s, Maddie’s face breaks into a tearful smile. “Good.” She wraps her arms around him again. “I love you so much, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Buck’s own expression cracks a little, but he manages to control himself. It’s too early to cry, he hasn’t even told her anything. “I love you too, Mads.”

When the Buckley siblings pull away, Eddie claps his hands together. “Well, Christopher wanted to have a picnic outside for breakfast, so I have a blanket set up out there, and all the food is prepared for transport.” His son appears in the kitchen now and Eddie smiles. “Perfect timing, mi amor, we were just about to head out for our picnic.”

“Yay!” Christopher shouts happily, heading straight for the back door. “Hi, Maddie. Hi, Chimney.”

“Kid’s more excited for the picnic than to see us,” Chimney comments, smiling fondly as he rushes over to hold the door open for Christopher. “I don’t blame you, pal, I love picnics too.”

“Chim, you mind helping me bring the stuff out?” Eddie asks, nodding at the food in containers, and widening his eyes so the other man gets the hint. Let's leave them alone, shall we?

Chim looks at the pair of siblings, giving Buck a brief smile of encouragement before he turns back to Eddie. “Of course,” he says, already starting to pile some of the food into his arms.

“We can help,” Madddie offers, placing a hand on Buck’s arm to indicate that he’s part of the we.

“Actually,” Buck interjects before the other two men can, “I wanted to talk about something with you.” It would be comical the way Eddie and Chimney shuffle out of the room, arms filled, if it weren’t for the circumstance. When Buck feels better, he’ll have to remember to laugh at that. “Um, so, something happened yesterday during the tsunami… Well, actually something happened, like, a year and a half ago. Um, it’s a little… complicated.”

With a frown, Maddie takes Buck’s hand in her own, taking a seat in the chair Eddie had been occupying. “Okay,” she says carefully, “well, start wherever you feel comfortable. I’m listening.”

Swallowing over the lump that’s starting to find its home back in Buck’s throat, the man squeezes his sister’s hand. “Alright, well, before you got to LA, around my fourth or fifth month on the job,” Buck begins, “I had my first loss. It was a young guy, Devon. He… he had a sister who reminded a lot of you.” Maddie makes a sympathetic noise, but doesn’t speak. She can tell this isn’t the story Buck wanted to tell, only some necessary contextual information. “So, um, Bobby… Well, I wasn’t handling it well and Bobby thought it would be a good idea to go to therapy. And, um, obviously I’ve never been good at feelings but… I don’t know, I thought it would be good for me.”

“Right,” Maddie agrees, “we could all use a healthy dose of therapy.”

“Mhm,” Buck hums numbly. “Yeah, well… um, during the appointment… I was talking about what happened, I told her how I found it difficult to express how I was feeling and stuff. I don’t know. I was crying at one point.” Maddie’s eyebrows raise, just a touch. When Buck was little, he learned that crying wasn’t what got him attention, it was getting hurt. In fact, crying was something that made his parents annoyed, so he tried not to do it too often. If he could help it. Back in his probie year, he was still like that, trying not to be too emotional. Now, Buck can say he’s a pretty big crier. “And, um… so she got up from where she was sitting to, you know, comfort me or something. She sat on the table in front of me and put her hand on my leg…” Maddie’s eyes narrow at that, growing suspicious of this woman’s intentions already, without knowing the whole story. And, that’s why he loves Maddie, she’s always on his side, no matter what. “That’s when I… I recognized her. She had followed me on Facebook.”

“What?” Maddie questions, nose wrinkling. “That’s— why?”

“After Devon, I got a lot of media attention because I saved some people.” Buck shakes his head. He hated that time in his life. It felt wrong, how people were celebrating him while two families were struggling with so much grief. “Anyways, I asked her if that was her account and she said it was. Then, she told me that I should delete it because she did that before I had an appointment scheduled.” Maddie pulls a face that seems to say, ‘yeah right,’ but motions for Buck to continue. “I… I was still crying, I remember that… because, uh, when she kissed me I could taste my tears.”

A look of horror crosses Maddie’s face and it seems Buck took her by surprise. He had hoped she might get where he was going with the story. “She— I’m sorry, she what?” Her tone is deadly, something Buck has never heard before.

“Um, there’s a little more,” Buck continues, “she— well, she— we— she assaulted me. I-I guess I shouldn't say we slept together ‘cause— I, uh, I know I was, like, I horndog back then and stuff. But— But, Maddie, I swear that I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” Maddie says, voice cracking as tears well up in her eyes. “Buck, please, you don’t have to… I know, okay? I believe you. You were… that was supposed to be a safe place for you. You went there for help, not for sex. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Buck nods. “No, it, uh… no.” He reaches his free hand up to catch a tear that attempts to fall. “I… I’m sorry. I feel kinda weird right now. I spent a long time, like, trying to forget it, and it sort of worked so… a lot of the details are fuzzy. It feels like… sometimes it almost feels like it didn’t happen to me. I’ll think of it and it’s like I’m remembering something from a movie.”

“It did happen, though,” Maddie says gently. “You… anything you feel is valid. It’s okay to feel confused about it. You just have to remember that it was real, no one can say it wasn’t, and it was in absolutely no way your fault.” She runs her thumb over the back of Buck’s hand, frown deepening even more somehow. “You said that this connects to yesterday?”

“Yeah, uh, I saw her again.” Maddie’s eyes widen and she’s about to stand up. He’s not sure what her plan is, but he raises his free hand to bring her movements to a halt. “She didn’t hurt me, okay? Not, uh, physically or anything. She was in the water—”

“And you left her there,” Maddie grits out, like she’s trying to will it to be true, even though deep down she knows it isn’t.

“—and I helped her,” Buck continues, biting the inside of his cheek to focus his feelings there instead of letting it all build up behind his eyes. “She had a ten month old baby with her.” Maddie’s rage fades and something else replaces it, Buck can’t quite pinpoint what the emotion is, and he thinks there might be too many to decipher happening all at once. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, charming smile, I don’t know yet, but probably reckless behaviour, you know, somewhere down the line…”

Maddie places her other hand over Buck’s so his one is trapped between both of hers. “You… She got pregnant? And she kept it?” The question doesn’t need to be answered, so it sort of just hangs in the air between them for a minute. “How does that make you feel?”

“Uh… I-I feel—” Buck cuts himself off, blinking back tears. He takes a steadying breath, trying to collect himself. “It’s kind of hard to describe. I just… I know I shouldn’t, okay? But, I keep feeling like it was my fault. I-I trusted her, you know? I put my trust in her and—”

“Which you should have been able to do,” Maddie says firmly. “Buck, you are supposed to trust therapists, you’re supposed to feel safe. That’s the whole point. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself because you thought you could trust her, you should blame her for making you trust her, and then pulling the rug out from under you.”

“Yeah… I know you’re right… sometimes, I really do know that it wasn’t my fault,” Buck says. “But, every once and a while I just… I don’t know. I’m just angry it happened to me.” He lets out a shaky breath. “And… maybe it isn’t a good idea to try and get custody over the baby. I know that this kind of trauma can… impact things, but I want to do it. I want to get better, I want to separate those two things from each other. Because the baby isn’t her and I have a chance here to make that baby feel safe and loved and help her grow into a good person. Someone who helps other people, not someone who hurts them.” He swallows. “In my head, I know they’re separate, I know that, and that’s why I want to raise her.”

Maddie lets go over his hand so she can move her chair closer. “Okay and I believe you,” she begins, “but, Buck, you have to know it won’t be that simple. This type of… reminder of the trauma might trigger you. To separate what happened with the baby isn’t going to be easy. And, you’ll have to go back to therapy in order to do it. Are you prepared to do that?”

Bowing his head, Buck presses his lips together for a moment. “Eddie… he suggested the same thing; therapy. I… at first I… I know it would be a good idea. And, um, he had some ideas I guess I could try so I don’t feel… uncomfortable.”

“Yeah?” Maddie tilts her head. “Well, if you do the work to make sure it won’t be something painful instead of something wonderful — because, Buck, children should be a wonderful thing — then, of course I’m on your side. I just want you to be realistic about this, Buck.” She holds her hand out and he easily slides his hand into hers. “We had parents who… weren’t that interested in being parents. It’s a different situation, but you know how it feels to be unwanted and— unliked by your own parents.”

“I won’t let her feel that way,” Buck says, and he wants to believe it so hard. He wishes desperately that he could just skip to a moment in time when he has his child, when he’s healed from this trauma, but it doesn’t work that way. Which is really fucking annoying. “When I look at her, Maddie… I— When I first had her in my lap, I-I got a flash of… what happened. Something I hadn’t thought about in a while. But-But then she opened her eyes and… it faded away. The memory was still there, in the back of my mind, but it was, like, paused, and all I could focus on was the fact that she is mine.” Maddie’s smile is bittersweet as she listens to her brother talk. “I don’t see what happened to me when I look at her… at least, I-I don’t focus on it. And, you know, maybe eventually, I can make it so I don’t think of it at all. Maybe I can just pack it away. I know it’s a different thing and I know that I want to never let her know any of the pain or darkness. I just want her to know laughter and light. I want to be able to separate it all completely, to not even have the memories playing in the back and… I think I’m strong enough.”

“Buck, just to be clear, if you didn’t choose to raise her, that wouldn’t make you weak,” Maddie says in a rush. She lets out a sigh. “But, I— I can tell that… Well, I can tell you want this to work. I can tell you already care about the baby a lot, which I’m sure is confusing and overwhelming as well.”

Buck leans back into his chair. “Yeah, that pretty much sums up this whole experience; confusing and overwhelming. Um… so Athena took a DNA sample of mine, one of the baby’s, and one of… hers. They’re running it now, but Athena says it could take a month to come back.”

“She’s not with her mother still,” Maddie says, a questioning and worried note to her words.

“No, no,” Buck answers, shaking his head rapidly. “No, of course not. While they wait for the tests, the baby has to be in foster care so… Well, Hen and Karen are fostering her right now.” Maddie rolls her eyes fondly and Buck can read her mind; of course they are. “Once it comes back and shows that the baby is mine, she’ll be arrested.”

For a moment, Maddie studies her brother, looking like she’s debating between wrapping him up in a hug or yelling at him. She raises a stern finger to his face once she’s chosen. “Alright, Evan, if you’re serious about this, you need to listen to me.” Buck nods right away, feeling a bit like a kid again. “First, you need to go to therapy, whatever it is that you and Eddie discussed that you thought would be helpful. Second, you need to find a good lawyer, maybe Bobby or Athena know one. Third, you need to spend some time with the baby, but not too much time.” Buck opens his mouth to protest and Maddie puts her hands on her hips. “I am not even close to finished with you.” His mouth snaps shut. “You need to spread out the visits a bit, keep them short because you are healing, Evan. Right now, you have no idea what could trigger you, so you need to make sure all the memories you’re forming with her are healthy, happy ones.” Buck supposes that makes sense. “And, fourth, you need to lean on your family for help. If you don’t, you won’t make it through any of this.”

“I promise,” Buck says, raising his pinky again.

Maddie links her pinky with his. “Good,” she says. She looks at him for a while, seeming to wrestle with her emotions. “I— I just love you, okay? I want this to be a good thing for you, but it’ll only be a good thing if you work to heal yourself.”

“I know,” Buck replies, smiling sheepishly. “I… I know I brush things off and act like… but, I know, okay, Mads? I get how important this is, how hard it’s going to be, and I am taking it seriously.” He gestures around at the house they’re in. “See, already leaning on friends.”

“Yeah, ‘friends,’ sure,” Maddie mocks, continuing before Buck has time to question it, “what, you agreed to stay here after Eddie begged and begged?”

Buck lets out a quiet laugh. “Well, sort of. He guilted me with Christopher.”

Smirking, Maddie nods in approval. “Smart man.” She stands up, patting Buck on the shoulder. “Keep leaning on him, he’s one of the good ones.” Out the kitchen window, she spots Eddie and Chimney sitting on either side of Christopher. “Both our guys both are.”

Ignoring the implication of that, Buck stands up from his chair. “Let's go, I’m hungry.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Maddie holds up a hand. “First, you need to tell me my niece's name.”

Buck smiles. “I named her Jasmine, Jaz for short.”

Eyes watering, Maddie reaches out to squeeze Buck’s arm. “Like from the pond?” When Buck nods, she smiles wide. “It’s beautiful.”

Chapter Text

Sitting on the couch together in silence, Buck has his eyes shut as Eddie types away on his ipad. He was going to make some joke about what Eddie might be searching for, but then the brunet man started to massage his leg again, and the comment died in his throat. After Maddie and Chimney left the other day, Buck was able to actually have a bit of fun. He and Christopher binged movies, all having to do with water per the kid’s request, and Eddie kept making them boatloads of popcorn. Then, today, Christopher had the day off of school, so he spent most of it at a friend's house. Now, he’s fast asleep and has been for about an hour since Buck read him a bed time story. Tomorrow, Eddie goes back to work, which makes Buck a little worried, unsure of what to do with himself during that time.

“Okay, I think I found a good option,” Eddie says, handing the tablet over so Buck can take a look. “Her name is Marissa Copeland, she’s quite a bit older than you, married with kids, and she’s been doing this for years. She offers online appointments and it says that it’s okay to have someone come with you.”

Gnawing at the skin on the inside of his cheek, Buck scrolls down, looking at the picture of Dr. Copeland. She looks kind, but so did Dr. Wells. “Hm,” he hums to confirm he’s read it all. Eddie pulls the device back, tilting his head to the side in a silent question. “Yeah, um, I guess I could try… um, but, Eds, you really don’t have to do… all this.” He gestures around a bit, referencing their current situation as well as all the stuff he’s been doing for Buck the past couple of days. “I can go back to my loft and find my own therapist. It’s okay, really.”

Eddie holds up one finger. “I’m doing this because I want to.” He holds up another finger. “I was going to offer to be with you for the first appointment.” Buck’s eyes widen slightly, not in anger, just in surprise, but Eddie seems to misinterpret it. “Or… if that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”

“No, Eddie, it’s the opposite.” Buck smiles gently. “I, uh, that would make me feel better.”

“Okay, good.” Eddie smiles to himself as he goes back on his ipad, but after a few moments of typing, he looks back up at Buck. It’s clear there’s something he wants to say that he’s been mulling over all day. During different moments of silence, Buck kept catching him opening and shutting his mouth before smiling tightly and moving on. It seems with the confirmation that Buck trusts and feels safe around him, Eddie now has the courage to speak up. “Feel free to call me a dumbass, but I was, uh, thinking you should move in here. You know, finally empty out that guest room full of junk, turn it into an actual bedroom so you would have a place to go. And, Jasmine too, eventually.”

Buck blinks at Eddie, thinking he might have imagined the whole thing, but when his best friend keeps looking at him expectantly, he knows he hasn’t. “Oh… I-I wouldn’t want to— this is you and Chrisotpher’s house. I can’t just… move in.”

“Why not?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know,” Buck answers lamely, shrugging. “How would it benefit you?”

“You’re my best friend, for one,” Eddie says. “Free babysitter for Chris, wouldn’t have to bug Carla as much, she might actually be able to take a vacation. Plus, I could use the extra money. And, as for it benefiting you, I could help you with… everything going on right now. Also, you would be able to save some money for a house of your own or something because the rent I would charge would be very, very cheap.” He gestures around a little. “Among other things.”

Buck’s eyes narrow. “What other things?”

“Buck, just a yes or a no will be fine.”

“Yes.”

It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that because Eddie’s eyes widen a comical amount. “...Okay. Cool.” He holds out his fist. “Roommates.”

Rolling his eyes, Buck returns the fist bump. “Roommates.”

~

Sitting at the kitchen table next to Eddie, Buck clenches his hands together as they wait for Dr. Copeland to join the call. They joined the link she sent a couple minutes early because it was stressing Buck out at the thought of being late, but now being early feels stressful as well. Pressing his lips together, Buck lets a sharp breath out through his nose.

“God, I hate this,” Buck whispers, as if Dr. Copeland can hear him. But, she can’t, she still hasn’t joined the call.

Reaching out, Eddie takes one of the hands Buck has pressed into his knee into his own hand, giving it a light squeeze. When Buck looks up, his best friend smiles. “You’re going to be okay,” he promises, “I’ll be right here for as long as you want.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Buck admits.

“Then, I won’t.” Eddie says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

There’s a little chime and both men look over to see that Dr. Copeland has joined the call. She’s an older woman, with a short blonde bob, and smile wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Hello, I’m Dr. Copeland, it’s nice to meet you two,” she begins, “if you could introduce yourselves so I know who’s who that would be great. We only have a fifteen minute appointment today, so we need to get all the basics out of the way; introductions, why you’re starting therapy, different methods we can try, etc.”

When Buck doesn’t move to speak first, Eddie leans forward, smiling. “Hi, I’m Edmundo Diaz, but you can call me Eddie.” He nods over at Buck. “This is Evan Buckley, he goes by—”

“Just Evan is fine,” Buck finds himself interrupting Eddie. The sound of Dr. Wells calling him Buck is currently echoing in his mind and the idea of this new therapist doing the same is too hard for right now.

“Alright, nice to meet you Eddie and Evan,” Dr. Copeland says, seeming undeterred by Buck’s tense expression and tone. “I’m going to first tell you a bit about myself. I’m Dr. Marissa Copeland. I’ve been a therapist for about forty years. I specialize in different types of trauma, ADHD, depression, grief, anxiety, and several other things.” She picks up a pair of glasses and puts them on, looking down at a notepad in her hands. “Now, I’d like to quickly inform you about the policies I and all other therapists and counselors in California follow. First, everything you say in these sessions stays between us, unless you are very seriously considering harming yourself or others, in which case I would have to report that. I must also report if I suspect any sort of abuse. Second, informed consent, meaning I will continuously explain treatments in detail with you, and will explain them to you as many times as you need. Third, if you cancel an appointment, you will unfortunately still be charged unless you provide more than forty-eight hours notice. Does all this make sense?”

Buck swallows thickly, tightening his hold on Eddie’s hand. “Yes.”

Nodding, Dr. Copeland takes off her glasses with a small smile. “Good. Now, if either or both of you could tell me about what brings you here? I understand that, Evan, you are my patient, and you didn’t want to do this session alone? Would you be able to tell me more about that? Have you ever been to therapy before?”

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck looks over at Eddie. He feels pathetic, like a child, but he can’t bring himself to care when all Eddie does is smile warmly and nod. “Right, so, uh, yes Evan has been to therapy once before,” he explains. “Um, I’m Bu— Evan’s friend and now roommate, he’s going to be moving into my place soon. He, uh…” He looks back at Buck, nudging their shoulders together. When he speaks next, his voice is a whisper. “Do you want to explain?”

“Um, so,” Buck stammers, biting at the inside of his cheek. “I’m a firefighter— we both are. And, during my probationary year, after I experienced my first loss of the job, I went for one session with a department therapist.”

Dr. Copeland nods. “Alright and I’m assuming it didn’t go well considering you went only once?”

Taking a breath in and pushing it out, Buck looks down at his lap. “She… I was telling her about… what happened… I-I was crying… I—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Please, take your time.”

Briefly, Eddie lets go of Buck’s hand and he mourns the loss, but it’s soon replaced with his other hand as he uses his now free arm to wrap it around Buck’s shoulders. Buck lets out an extra breath he didn’t realize was trapped in his throat as he blinks to get the tears to stay inside. “She sle— she assaulted me.”

There’s a brief pause and Buck finally looks back up at the screen, leaning into Eddie’s hold to chase the sense of comfort and safety it gives him, he sees Dr. Copeland is frowning. “And… when you say assault,” she begins, “do you mean physical or sexual? You do not have to clarify if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Um, well, if I don’t clarify it’d be a little bit confusing for, uh… everything else,” Buck says in a rush. “Um, it— it was sexual assault.”

“Alright, I’m very sorry to hear about that,” Dr. Copeland says, “and that explains a lot why you wouldn’t want to continue therapy, why you want to do our sessions online, and why you might want someone to accompany you.” When Buck only offers a small nod, Dr. Copeland continues. “Would you mind explaining what you mean by everything else?”

Buck focuses on the feeling of Eddie rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. “So, I was in the tsunami, I was on the pier when it happened, with—” His voice cuts off as he thinks of that day. God, it feels like so long ago yet it feels like it happened seconds before this appointment.

Clearing his throat, Eddie steps in when he sees tears filling Buck’s eyes once more. “Uh, Evan was on the pier with my son, Christopher, when it happened,” he explains, “they were hanging out that day while I was at work. Buck, um… well, recently he hasn’t been at work because a ladder truck crushed his leg.” Eddie winces. And, yeah, yikes, all this sounds so much worse out loud. “And now he has this blood clotting problem. So, Evan was going to watch my son in the meantime since my usual caretaker is out of town. And, they got caught in the wave. Evan saved Christopher, though, and they were waiting on top of a ladder truck. Evan actually saved a lot of people that day…” Eddie glances at Buck and when the blond nods, he continues. “Including his former therapist and… well, she had a baby with her. It, uh, turns out that she got pregnant.”

“Okay…” Dr. Copeland trails off, “okay, that’s a lot to unpack. I’m sure that we will get to each of those moments at some point, but for now I’d like to ask about this therapist situation if that’s alright?” She purses her lips. “Actually, first, could I get her name? She is not a therapist and I will not disgrace other therapists by lumping her in with them.”

Buck lets out a startled laugh. “Uh, yeah, her name is Clara Wells.”

“So, Wells didn’t tell you about this baby?”

“No,” Buck replies, “now that I know though, I want to do everything I can to get full custody.”

Pausing, Dr. Copeland raises an eyebrow. “What about seeking justice for what happened to you?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Buck mumbles, “uh, yeah.”

“It’s interesting that you don’t mention that first, as if the crime and violation that you experienced is not a priority,” Dr. Copeland observes. “Do you think you tend to prioritize the needs of others over your own?”

Buck answers, “No,” at the same time Eddie says, “Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, Buck takes his hand out of Eddie’s. “What’s so wrong with wanting to make sure that my baby isn’t going to have to see that monster anymore?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, in fact, it’s a very generous thing you’re doing,” Dr. Copeland clarifies. “I don’t know you yet, I am only making some quick observations based on what I have seen so far. Which, again, is not a lot.” She writes something down on her notepad before looking back up. “Alright, I do have a question for you. Are you finding the idea of adopting the child that was created from your assault difficult? Are there some mixed emotions there?”

“Um, I guess, yeah,” Buck says, “that’s, uh, that’s why I wanted to come to therapy. Well, also everyone sort of told me it would be a good idea… but I agree. I don’t want to get in the way of the relationship me and my daughter could have because of this… this… um, thing that happened to me.”

“Trauma,” Dr. Copeland supplies, “this trauma.”

Buck nods. “R-Right, um, trauma.”

“Okay, well, there are a few different things we can try to work through,” Dr. Copeland says, “though I would like to get to know more about you and about the situation. That can be for a later appointment though, not the introduction. Alright?”

“Alright.“

“Good, now,” she begins, “there’s this type of therapy which is called EMDR, which stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It involves some sort of bilateral stimulation, which is usually eye movement, but can be different things such as tapping. And, while this stimulation is occurring, we walk through a traumatic memory. When traumatic things happen, the thought of them, or anything that reminds us of them, can cause us to feel the way we did when this trauma first occurred. So, when we do this, we aren’t trying to forget the memory, but to fully process what happened in order to desensitize ourselves to the anxiety we feel at the thought of the trauma. Following me so far?”

“Uh, I think so?” Buck winces when it comes out like a question.

“For instance, therapy, your baby — these should be positives in your life, but because of what happened, they can’t really be. But, if you work through it using EMDR, you’ll be able to turn off that panic you feel when you’re reminded of it. Reprocessing a trauma in a healthy way will make it easier for you to separate what happened to you from therapy itself and your baby.” Dr. Copeland pauses to let that sink in for a moment. “Now, I know that’s a lot to process, so I think I’ll leave you with that for now. EMDR is not the only therapy tool we can use, but I do find it to be effective with most patients. So, think more about it, check out the resources on our website that explain what it is and how it works, and let me know what you think.”

Eddie presses his lips together in a semblance of a smile. “Yes, thank you.”

“Of course, and, Evan, if you don’t feel I’m the right fit for you, there are plenty of other therapists in my office who also use EMDR, if it interests you,” she says. “If you want to schedule another appointment with me, make sure to do it as soon as possible, so we can get started. This will be a long process, but it’ll be worth it in the long run.”

“Okay, thank you, Dr. Copeland,” Buck replies, smiling and giving a small wave before reaching out to hang up. When the call is disconnected, he sags against Eddie. “Jesus.”

“You okay?” Eddie whispers, rubbing a hand up and down Buck’s shoulder.

Buck exhales shakily. “I… I think I will be.” He half smiles at Eddie. “I’m going to book another appointment with her and… I think I’ll try to do it alone. Just, um, maybe stay in the house?”

“Of course, Buck,” Eddie promises. “Anything.”

~

When Eddie is on shift next and Christopher is at school, Athena comes over in the afternoon to have tea with Buck. She claims that she already had the day off, but Buck has this sneaking suspicion that she took it off in order to spend time with him. Not that he’s complaining, he loves Athena. At times, though, it’s hard for him to believe he actually deserves how well she treats him.

“How have you been holding up?” Athena asks as she stands by Eddie’s stove, waiting for the water to boil, and running her eyes over Buck who sits at the table. “You been sleeping?”

“Yeah, yeah I have,” Buck says, running a hand over his hair. “I’ve been okay. It’s driving me insane not being able to see Jaz everyday, but I’m supposed to go see her in a couple hours after Eddie’s shift.”

Nodding, Athena turns when the kettle starts to whistle, then proceeds to pour the boiling water into two mugs she pulled from Eddie’s cupboard. One is this light blue colour that says ‘Best Dad Ever’ that Buck had brought Christopher to a pottery place to make for Eddie before his birthday. The other is one Eddie had made Buck as a thank you, it turned out horribly, the writing is eligible, but Buck is pretty sure it says ‘Best Buck Ever’ on it, and it’s his absolute favourite present he’s ever gotten. (Well, any of Christopher’s drawings probably go first, but still.)

When Athena places his mug in front of him, Buck smiles. “Thank you, Athena, you really didn’t have to come see me.”

“You didn’t text like you promised,” she says, sitting next to him and holding up her hand before he gets the chance to apologize. “You are going through a tough time right now, I know it can be hard to keep up with everything. I just wanted to come see you in person.” She nudges the sugar towards Buck as she adds cream to her tea. “Come on, Buckaroo, nobody here now to stop you from dumping four scoops in your cup.”

With a small laugh, Buck starts to add sugar into his tea (four small scoops, okay?). For a moment, Athena just stares at him with this fond look on her face, and after a while it starts to make Buck feel a little weird. His parents never looked at him the way Bobby and Athena do. And, he can never quite pinpoint what emotion he’s seeing in their eyes. Sometimes, he thinks they look proud or enamored by him, but Buck doesn’t know what he has ever done to deserve either of those feelings directed at him, so he always pushes it away.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Athena asks gently, her smile faltering a little as she takes in the wary look in his blue eyes. “I can see you overthinking.”

“I just…” Buck trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “You don’t have to— um, like… Bobby is—” He takes in a breath, trying to collect his thoughts, grateful that Athena doesn’t try to interrupt him. “I love Bobby. He means a lot to me. Ever since I met him I… well I think it’s pretty clear I view him as, like, um, the father I never had. Well— I-I did have a father just—”

Athena places a hand on his shoulder briefly to stop his ramble. “I know what you mean,” she says, then pulls her hand away. “Continue.”

“Right, well,” he stammers, reaching out to grip his hot mug between both hands. “I just— I don’t want you to feel like you also need to get to know me or, um, like— you don’t have to be, a, uh, you know, mom to me just because Bobby is—” He cuts himself off, out of breath and out of words. God, he’s so bad at this. “Sorry, I’m bad at explaining. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to— because you don’t need to— and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. My parents weren’t— and, it’s, uh, not your fault they—” Buck groans, letting go of one side of his mug to rub his forehead. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

A few different emotions pass over Athena’s face. When he first started to rant, it was a mix of confusion but still with patience. Then, it started to morph into something angry. The anger was brief and she seemed to shove it down quickly, as if it wasn’t aimed at Buck, but someone else she was thinking about. Now, her expression is unreadable to Buck. There’s a wrinkle in her forehead, but she doesn’t seem confused anymore, her eyes are full of understanding, and there’s this softness in them that Buck only ever sees when Athena’s talking to or about May and Harry. Her lips are in a thin line, but it’s clear she’s trying to make them turn into a smile — it ends up looking more like a grimace. He has no idea what she’s feeling and if he’s honest, he’s a little scared to find out.

“Alright, listen here, my boy,” Athena begins, voice tender and unyielding all at once. She reaches up to cup Buck’s cheek with one hand, all too knowing that as soon as she gets talking he might try to look away. And, her other hand wraps around his wrist, thumb stroking back and forth. “I don’t know much about your parents, but from what I’ve heard, there’s one thing I know to be true; they did not deserve you. By that, I mean, you were far too kind and good for them. They were not worthy of your giant heart and endless selflessness.” Buck scoffs at that and Athena’s gaze only becomes more certain. “I know you don’t believe it, probably because they made you feel that way. But, you are a noble man, Evan Buckley. You don’t hesitate to take risks some people would never even consider and you never give up. Sure, at first, you weren’t my favourite person to be around, but I didn’t know you then, Buck. Now that I know you, I never want there to be a time that I don’t see you, you hearing me?”

Swallowing over the lump in his throat, Buck finds he can’t speak, so he just nods.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done yet.” Athena smiles when that makes Buck laugh a little. “You are not making me feel some type of way by being in my life or by being Bobby’s son. You don’t just see Bobby as your father, he is your father, and he loves you like a son. And, I have grown to feel the same way.” When Buck’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, Athena frowns, reaching up to smooth her thumb over his birthmark, as if trying to get rid of his doubts. “I will do absolutely anything to protect you and keep you safe. I’m not here for Bobby or Eddie or whoever else you think put me up to this visit, I’m here for you. I love you and I’m worried about you, baby.” She finally pulls her hand away from his face, but keeps her other wrapped around his wrist. “I can tell you ain’t ever done this before, so let me explain how this works. I’m a mother and us mothers visit and hover over our children when they’re going through a tough time. It doesn't matter how old you are, it’s going to happen whether you like it or not.”

Nodding a bit self consciously as his cheeks redden, Buck picks up his mug to take a sip of his tea. The heat helps shrink the lump still stuck right behind his tongue enough that he trusts his voice again to speak. “Well, I think… I think I don’t mind it then,” he admits. “I’ve never… really had anyone to hover. Maddie did… but then she moved out. So, this, uh, yeah, I like it… And I-I love you too.”

Athena smiles, a real one this time. “Good, ‘cause you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

Something dawns on Buck and he can’t help but laugh a little giddily, shaking his head when Athena raises an eyebrow at him. “No, I just— so you really meant it when you said you and Bobby would be Jaz’ grandparents?” Athena levels him with a look that seems to say ‘you’re fucking kidding me right?’ and Buck laughs again. “Okay ‘cause she needs some good grandparents.”

Slowly, Athena sees as a frown makes its way over Buck’s face and knows exactly what he’s thinking as it does. “You gonna tell your p— the Buckleys?”

“I guess I have to,” Buck says, "just, uh, not right now.”

Athena links their fingers together and they spend a large chunk of time just sitting in silence and sipping their tea.

Chapter Text

Buck is going to have a panic attack.

Okay, no he’s not, that’s dramatic.

But, he’s really nervous about going to see Jasmine again. It’ll be the first time since the tsunami, almost three full days without her, and though Buck hated the space, he’s now nervous about the lack of it.

When Eddie got back from his shift, he had already showered at the station, so all they had to do was pick Christopher up from school before heading over to Hen and Karen’s. Obviously, they have to be careful as social workers tend to make surprise visits, but they just had one yesterday afternoon, so they women say they don’t expect another until next week.

“It’s going to be great,” Eddie promises, reaching out to take Buck’s hand where he had been digging his nails into his thigh. “I know you’re nervous, but we’ll be right there with you. There’s no pressure at all, just a little visit, and then we’ll see her again when we go to Bobby and Athena’s tomorrow for dinner.”

Buck nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” It doesn’t make him any less nervous though.

When Eddie parks in Hen and Karen’s driveway, Buck stays seated in the passenger seat as the brunet man rounds the car to help his son out. Once Christopher is in the driver, however, Buck finally gets up. The kid makes a beeline for the door, crutches clattering quickly along the pavement and Buck can’t help but laugh as Eddie shouts at him to slow down. All Christopher has been talking about for the last few days is seeing ‘Baby Buck’ again — every single time, Eddie would sigh fondly, say, it’s Jasmine or Jaz not Baby Buck, but the kid didn’t seem to care — and it makes Buck so happy to know he already loves her so much.

Eddie hovers a supportive hand over the small of Buck’s back as Christopher rings the doorbell. In a second, Karen is answering the door, smiling brightly at the trio. “Good afternoon, it’s good to see you,” she greets, stepping to the side so they can enter. She turns her head back to call out into the house. “Family! The Buckley-Diaz boys have arrived!”

Hearing their last names pressed together like that makes something warm settle in Buck’s gut and a flush climb up his neck. Quickly, he walks past Eddie, following Christopher towards the kitchen so the other man won’t see how Karen’s words have affected him.

Denny is sitting at the dining room table, colouring, and Christopher makes his way over to sit next to him. The two immediately start chatting amongst themselves and Buck is so busy smiling at them that he doesn’t notice Hen entering the room.

Gently, Eddie nudges Buck with his elbow. The blond man is about to feign annoyance, but then his own eyes snap to a pair with a familiar light blue colour, and all the words he intended to say leave his brain. Jasmine is balanced on Hen’s hip, staring at Buck, a small smile spreading across her face when Buck can’t help but beam over at her.

With a soft smile of her own, Hen walks over to Buck, starting to lift Jasmine towards him. “Alright, Jasmine, ready to see your Dada?” she whispers.

Making grabby hands at Buck, he feels himself let a breath out in relief. He was so afraid she would already be so attached to Hen and Karen that she wouldn’t want to leave their arms. Quickly, Buck accepts the child into his arms, wrapping her up tight, and burying his face into her wispy hair. “Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, “I missed you, you know that?”

“We’ve been showing her photos and videos of you,” Karen tells Buck, leaning against the kitchen counter as Hen heads to the fridge to grab a pitcher of lemonade. “The day after the tsunami, she saw the family photo I have of the 118 on my phone and pointed you out right away. She just wanted to keep looking at more of you.”

Laughing wetly, Buck pulls away from the hug with Jasmine so he can instead place her on his hip. “That’s my girl,” Buck says, “I guess you missed me too, huh?”

“Not as much as me,” Eddie asserts, reaching out his index finger and smiling widely when she wraps her fist around it like she had the first time he held her. “Yeah, I’m going to be her Eddie, just like you’re Christopher’s Buck, and she’s going to like me best.” He leans closer, voice taking on a baby tone as he switches languages. “¿No es así, mi princesa? No sé si sabes esto, pero tu papá ya está obsesionado contigo, y no hay forma de que ninguno de los dos te deje ir. Es cierto, eres nuestro— suyo. Ojalá pudieras ser mía también. desearía que tu papá pudiera ser mío, pero no le digas eso, ¿vale, cariño?”

“When you talk that fast in Spanish, I can’t tell what you’re saying,” Buck complains, raising an eyebrow at Eddie as he pulls his hand away from Jasmine. “I only spent three months in Peru.”

“Your Spanish has gotten better, you’ll know one day,” Eddie says, grinning when Buck rolls his eyes. “It’s between me and Jaz for now.”

From the table, Christopher grins up at them. “Y conmigo, papá, he estado practicando con bisabuela y tía Pepa.”

Face blanking, Eddie gives Buck a strained smile before turning to Christopher and quickly muttering under his breath, “Vamos a jugar un juego llamado nunca decirle a Buck lo que dije, ¿sí?”

“Sí, papá,” Christopher replies, still grinning. He pushes up from his seat. “Can I hold my sister now?”

Freezing, Buck rubs a hand up and down Jasmine’s back when she seems to immediately notice his tension. He hadn’t told Eddie about Christopher calling Jasmine his little sister. They were both so tired sitting on the ladder truck and it seemed to make Christopher happy, so Buck didn’t even think twice before saying that Jasmine was his sister. Now, though, he really doesn’t want Eddie to get uncomfortable with that title, especially when it implies that he’s Jasmine’s other father, and that the two of them are a couple. Buck isn’t quite sure what the right term would be for Christopher and Jasmine, though. Cousin just sounds weird, but they aren’t going to be just friends.

Eddie steps towards Christopher to pick him up and briefly Buck gets this irrational thought that he’s going to run away, and he’ll never see them again. But, instead of the disgusted and angry expression Buck had been expecting Eddie to have on, he looks… surprisingly neutral, just a fond sigh leaving him as he heaves his son up, and drops him onto the couch.

“Fine, you can hold your Baby Buck, but you have to sit while you hold her,” Eddie says. “And, don’t be offended if she cries. Jasmine hasn’t seen Buck for a little bit, so I think she missed him.” When Eddie turns to face Buck, his smile starts to fade when he sees the blond man frozen. It’s clear he misinterprets Buck’s surprise for distress. He takes a couple long strides towards him, lowering his voice. “Hey, do you not want Chris to hold her right now? It’s okay if you need some time with her.”

Glancing over at Hen and Karen whose smiles have also dropped as they watch Buck stand, tense, the younger man lets out a breath. “No, it’s not— of course he can hold her. I just—” He leans forward so the women won’t hear and the two of them busy themselves with pouring glasses of lemonade and getting out snacks. “I’m sorry. When we were on the ladder truck, he— he said she was his sister. I was so tired and-and upset I didn’t correct him—”

“Buck,” Eddie says, a little exhausted, mostly fond as his smile returns. “She is his sister. As long as— if you want that, so do I.” He reaches out and squeezes Buck’s shoulder. “I think it’ll be good for both of them to have a sibling.”

A slow smile makes his way across Buck’s face and he finds he’s feeling too emotional to speak, so he just nods. He carries the baby into the living room, sitting next to Christopher who's practically buzzing with excitement. Denny makes his way over as well, clearly also already captivated by the new addition to their family.

“Alright, here you go,” Buck says, turning her so she’s sitting in Christopher’s lap, back against his right shoulder so they can both look at each other. Jasmine looks at Buck quizzically and he can’t help but laugh. “Jasmine, this is Christopher. He’s your older brother and he’s going to teach you all about life.” He looks over at Chris who has a proud grin on his face. “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah!” Christopher exclaims, wincing when the volume makes Jasmine flinch a little. When he speaks next it's in a quiet whisper that Buck can't help but smile fondly at. “Sorry. Sorry, Jasmine.”

Hen and Karen bring a tray of lemonade filled glasses to the coffee table along with some crackers as they take their own seats in the room. Behind Buck, Eddie leans onto the back of the couch, fondly watching his son get to know Jasmine.

“So, has there been any progress with the case?” Hen asks once she’s sure the kids are too distracted to really be paying attention.

Buck sighs, absentmindedly reaching out to brush his fingers through Christopher’s hair. “Not really, it’s going to be a long process, I think,” he says. “Athena sent me the name of a good lawyer, I have an appointment booked next week. And, uh, I also have an appointment with my new therapist.”

As she picks up a glass, Karen smiles gently. “I’m glad you decided to start therapy, at first it’ll be painful, I know, but it’ll be worth it in the end.” She takes a sip of lemonade, then continues. “If you ever need someone to join you or anything Hen and I don’t mind. I know you have Eddie, but I want you to know you also have the rest of us, if you want.”

“Thank you, but honestly after the first appointment I feel much better,” Buck says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still nervous. But, I think I sort of built it up in my head a little. It’s on Zoom, so that already makes me feel better, and Eddie will be in the next room so… but thank you. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want some company.” He smiles at the women, then looks back at Christopher and Jasmine. It seems the two boys are telling the little girl a story.

“I know ‘Thena isn’t a lawyer, but does she seem to think it should be pretty cut and dry? Considering you will have DNA proof?” Hen asks.

Picking up his own glass of lemonade, Buck shrugs a shoulder. “She says the only problem is I don’t really have proof it happened in the appointment. It’s still illegal, obviously, but I guess they could try and argue it happened before. She says that argument would be pretty weak, but it depends on the jury, and since I don’t have any other evidence it’ll be hard to prove when exactly it occurred. The day before the appointment I had off work and I was still struggling with my first loss, so I didn’t see anyone. So unless she admits to it—” He cuts himself off, blinking rapidly as memories front the tsunami jump to the forefront of his mind.

Turning her head, Hen frowns. “Buckaroo, you okay?”

“She— while we were on the ladder truck,” Buck explains, shaking his head. “She admitted to it… kinda. I think it would count as an admission of guilt. She was getting mad at me ‘cause I wouldn’t let her hold Jasimine, then I said— Well, she tried blaming me for not keeping in touch as the reason why she never told me about Jaz.”

“Maldita perra,” Eddie mutters.

And, yeah, Buck knows what that means. He lets out a strangled gasp. “Eddie!” he reprimands at the same time Christopher giggles and exclaims, “Dad!”

Shrugging a little sheepishly, Eddie motions for Buck to continue.

“Anyway,” Buck says after shaking his head with a laugh, “after she said that, I told her I obviously wouldn’t want to keep in touch with her. Then, I, uh, said that what she did was illegal that it was techincally—” He glances at the children, then mouths the words ‘sexual assault’ to the grownups. “And she said something along the lines of, ‘you won’t report me anyway and no one would even believe you if you did.’ Or, like, ‘no one would believe that could happen to a strong firefighter.’ I don’t know, something like that. And, the other people on the truck heard her say it.”

“I wonder if there’s a way to find them,” Hen says, scratching her arm. “The only records of people are from the VA hospital.”

Karen’s eyebrows raise, clearly getting an idea. “But, if you find Buck and Christopher’s names from when they got there, the names before should be the ones of the other survivors from the ladder truck that Buck saved.”

Leaning down to smack a kiss against Karen’s cheek, Hen smiles. “My wife is a genius.”

“She sure is,” Eddie agrees, reaching out to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. “We’ll have to get Athena to look into that.”

Buck looks over at Jasmine, smiling with tears in his eyes. “I might just be able to win this case. We— I could take her home forever and she would never be able to touch Jaz again.”

“We will win this case and we will be taking her home,” Eddie agrees, leaning down to kiss Christopher’s forehead, then Jasmine’s. The little girl squeals happily, clapping her hands at the man, and Buck sees the moment Eddie melts into a puddle. He kneels further down so he’s eye level with Jasmine, brushing her hair back. “Tú tienes todo mi corazón, yo soy tuya, mi princesa.”

Recognizing the words, especially considering Eddie is speaking slower now, Buck smiles.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, titling his head as he leans closer looking at something on Jasmine’s face. “Would you look at that? Like father, like daughter.” He pulls back and sees Buck giving him a quizzical look. “I thought I saw it the first time I was holding her, but thought it might be from the day. But, it looks like she has the same birthmark as you. It’s pretty light, but it’s there.”

“Oh, definitely," Karen confirms, “I noticed it too. I think it’s getting a little darker, which can happen as you get older. Some birthmarks fade, some don’t, as we know.” She smiles warmly at Buck. “It’s like she was waiting for you for the mark to really fill itself in.”

“Ah, fate,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes.

Buck ignores him, leaning over to take a look at the birthmark for himself. When he spots it, practically a carbon copy of his own, he can’t help but smile. Buck thinks his next words over for a second, not wanting to mess up. “No lo escuches… El destino es real. Lo sé porque… te encontré,” he tells Jasmine.

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you found her, and I think a little mini Buck may be the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life,” Hen says. “She’s a smart young lady, she knew to inherit her dad’s looks.”

Eddie nods, eyeing Buck mischievously. “Tu papá es la persona más hermosa que he visto, tienes suerte de que te parezcas a él,” he says it fast, clearly trying to mess with Buck.

And though Buck begs him to say it in English, Eddie refuses, keeping the secret between him, Jasmine, and a giggling Christopher. He swears these three will be a dangerous trio. But, he swears he’ll learn more Spanish before Jasmine gets older, so they can’t keep getting away with trash talking him.

~

Buck has been trying to say goodbye to Jasmine for the last hour. It’s clear they all feel too bad for him to make him leave his daughter, but it’s also clear Christopher is getting impatient and tired. It’s past his bedtime, which means Buck is also throwing his schedule off, which means the kid will be tired tomorrow, which means that—

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie whispers, eyeing Hen and Karen who are patiently waiting a few feet away, trying to give Buck the space to say goodbye without any outside pressure. “I see you spiralling, so stop, okay?”

“I— I’m sorry,” Buck whispers back, voice cracking as his eyes fill with tears. He tries to blink them away, but they end up falling, and embarrassment starts to flood his chest, tightening it. “I’m sorry. I won’t be like this every time, I promise. I know you need to get Christopher to bed—”

“I said stop spiralling, not keep spiralling,” Eddie says, a teasing tone to his voice, but he ends up frowning as tears continue to fall down his best friend’s face. He glances briefly at Hen and Karen who quickly act like they haven’t been staring at the two men before he turns back to Buck. Reaching up, Eddie wipes away a tear that gets stuck on Buck’s cheekbone. “Do you want me to call Carla to meet me at home? That way she can put Christopher down and stay with him until you’re ready to come home?”

Though having more options should make Buck feel better, it ends up making him even more anxious. He doesn’t want to decide what to do. “I’m such a mess, I’m sorry, I can’t stop crying,” is all Buck replies.

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Eddie says, “this is hard. You’re trying to wrap your head around having a daughter and you can’t even have her staying with you. No one is expecting you to be the same old Buck, to immediately be fine, and have it all sorted out, man. Just… take your time, think about what you want.”

Buck looks down at Jasmine who fell asleep in his arms a while ago, her head buried into his shoulder as one of her fists grips his shirt. He leans down and kisses her head, thoughts racing in his mind so fast that he can’t hang onto any for very long. There’s no good answer here.

“I know I’m going to see her tomorrow,” Buck says, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“But that doesn’t make it easier,” Eddie finishes for him, raising a steadying hand to rest on Buck’s shoulder. He nods to himself a bit, like he’s made a decision before he turns to face Hen and Karen. “Okay, so, I’m going to call Carla, I’ll meet her at the house, and she can watch Christopher for me for a bit. I know she was visiting a friend near my place tonight and I think she said she would be leaving around now. Buck can put Jasmine down, tuck her in, and everything. I’ll come back as soon as Carla is over.” He glances at Buck. “Sound good?”

Blinking rapidly, Buck slowly starts to nod, quickly turning to look at the women across the room to make sure it’s alright with them. “Of course,” Karen says, reaching a hand out and motioning for Buck to follow her. “It’s only right you get to properly say goodnight to her. That way you don’t have to feel so bad about leaving. She’ll wake up, have breakfast, play a little, go for a nap, then by the time she wakes up again it’ll be time to go over to Bobby and Athena’s.”

With a wary smile, Buck nods in agreement, halted halfway to the hallway when Christopher stands from his spot on the couch, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Can I say goodbye?”

“Yes, I think she’d like that,” Buck says, kneeling down so Christopher can see Jasmine properly.

Leaning forward, Christopher presses a kiss to Jasmine’s forehead. “I love you, Baby Buck.”

“And she loves you,” Buck whispers back, ruffling Christopher’s hair when the boy grins.

Chapter Text

When Buck wakes up the next morning, Eddie is wrapped around his back. It’s funny, of all the times they have shared a bed, it’s usually the other way around. Buck has been referred to — extremely affectionately — as an octopus. Not that Buck is complaining that he has converted Eddie to an octopus.

He’s never woken up feeling so safe and… warm before.

Carefully, Buck maneuvers around, curious to see what Eddie looks like. Though he has seen the brunet man asleep many times, Buck never gets sick of how adorable he appears while in dreamland. Once he’s facing Eddie, Buck can’t help but grin. The older man’s arm is still hanging over his shoulder, other hand smushed between his cheek and the pillow. Eddie’s mouth hangs open, light snores whistling, and filling up the quiet room.

Buck wishes he could watch him like this forever.

But, life hates him.

Eddie’s eyes twitch a little, his mouth closing as he wrinkles his nose, seemingly trying to stifle a yawn. He doesn’t win the war though and his mouth opens wide as he yawns, eyes blinking open afterwards. Buck freezes, unsure of how his friend will react considering their heads are on the same pillow, Eddie’s arm is around his waist, and their legs are tangled together. Thousands of possibilities rush through his mind, most ending with Eddie telling him he actually can’t move in next week like they planned.

What Eddie does instead is completely unexpected.

He smiles. A wide, beautiful smile that takes over his whole face. It’s the kind of smile Eddie saves for when he’s with his family.

“Morning,” Eddie says, voice gravely and low. He raises an eyebrow when Buck only stares at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Buck replies, clearing his throat quickly after it comes out too quiet. “Sorry, yeah. Morning.”

Eddie hums and then does the most insane thing in the world. He pulls Buck close so that the blond’s head is resting on his chest. “No need to apologize, you got a lot on your mind, huh?” Buck is only tense for a moment before he gives in and melts against Eddie. This definitely is not helping the whole desperatelyinlovewithEdmundoDiaz thing, but he really doesn’t care right now. “Are you planning on bringing anyone to the meeting with your custody lawyer?”

“I was thinking maybe Bobby,” Buck mumbles into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. The smell of his best friend’s laundry detergent is familiar and manages to slow his heartbeat. He thinks when he moves in full time, he’ll start only using the kind Eddie buys. “I’m not sure. I just feel like having someone older, you know, with more life experience might be good? Obviously, he hasn’t ever had to deal with custody or anything before but—”

“Well, he wouldn’t be there to give you legal advice,” Eddie says, reaching his hand up from his waist to Buck’s shoulder to give it a squeeze. “He’d be there as your dad.” There’s a brief silence that passes between them, but then Eddie speaks up again. “And, your therapy appointment? Are you nervous?”

Buck shrugs. “Not as much as before.” He pulls back, angling his head so he can see Eddie. Now, their faces are inches apart. That fact alone could give Buck a heart attack, but he has something he wants to say, so he shoves his feelings down quickly. “You know, you should try out therapy.”

Glancing over at the wall, Eddie presses his lips together. “Hm?”

“I can tell…” Buck trails off, considering his words carefully. Eddie hasn’t been dealing with his grief properly and though he knows that the brunet man had been mad at Shannon when she died, it’s not healthy. He needs to learn how to talk through the anger and to forgive her. “Eddie, you’ve been holding in all this… anger. It’s not good for you.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says, unwrapping himself from Buck so he can sit up in bed. He rubs his eyes a little, then stretches before he shuffles to the edge of the mattress, and stands up. “Christopher will be up soon.”

Sitting up in bed, Buck wraps his arms around his stomach, an ache in his chest at the absence of Eddie’s warmth. “Are you…?” He bites the inside of his cheek as he watches Eddie pulling some clothes out of his dresser. The older man tugs off the shirt he slept in, throwing it towards the laundry basket pressed into the corner of his room. He pulls the clean one over his head, working his jaw before turning to face Buck. Eddie gestures for him to continue speaking. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why all of a sudden have you decided I have anger issues?” Eddie asks, scoffing as he quickly steps out of his sweatpants and into the pair of basketball shorts he grabbed.

“It’s… it’s not all of a sudden, Eddie,” Buck says. “You’ve just been trying to keep it in more because of the tsunami and… everything with me. But, you don’t have to be strong just because I’m… weak. You’re allowed to struggle, Eddie, and it’s okay if you need help.”

Briefly, Eddie stares at Buck with a pinched expression before he heads back over so he’s standing right beside the bed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not mad at you, I’m not mad at anyone,” he begins. “Is you pushing me on this pissing me off? Yeah, it really is, Buck, so drop it before I actually get mad.” Buck wrinkles his nose, about to say something in response to that when the tone of voice Eddie chooses to use sends a pang straight through his heart. Unfortunately, Eddie continues his rant before he can get a word in. “Second of all, you’re not weak, so stop saying that shit about yourself. It’s not true. I don’t… I just don’t get why you have to talk about yourself that way. How do you not see how amazing you are, Buck?”

The way Eddie says it is still in that mean and harsh tone, so the mix of compliments in it shocks Buck into silence. He watches Eddie all the time. It’s one of his favourite activities. And, since the tsunami, Buck would argue that his anger has gotten worse.

“Christopher has school, I’m going to get him up and ready,” Eddie says as he averts his eyes. “I gotta go shopping after that.” It’s clear he doesn’t want Buck coming with him, so the blond man has no intention of offering. “You gonna be okay alone for a few hours?”

“I’m not a child,” Buck snaps, getting out of bed and heading towards the door. He’s just going to say good morning to Chrisopther, then hide in the bathroom until Eddie’s gone. All he wanted was to express concern to his best friend. When Eddie does it, it’s fine, but if Buck dares care about him too, he gets yelled at. Though Eddie has never been good at feelings, losing Shanon made it worse. Well, losing her and then losing her. It was back to back trauma and Buck has tried to be understanding because he knows Eddie needs that. But, when he gets angry at Buck for caring, it’s hard to keep being empathetic.

Reaching out a hand to grab Buck’s bicep, Eddie stops him before he can exit the room. “Buck, I don’t— I know you can take care of yourself,” he says. “You just don’t have to right now with everything—”

“Everything I’m going through?” Buck questions, ripping his arm away from Eddie. “Look, you wanna take care of me? Then, you gotta let me take care of you too. This is a two way street and I’m getting really tired of having my head bit off any time I try and make sure you’re okay. I love you, Eddie.” Vaguely, Buck realizes that sounds like a confession, so he blinks rapidly as he thinks of a way to follow it up. “...You’re my best friend and I just want you to— I don’t know, man. It just feels like I’m always opening up and telling you things, but you avoid telling me anything at all costs.” He lets out a slow breath, shaking his head. “I’m just tired of it, Eds. I’m sorry, but I am.”

With that, Buck leaves the room, heading down the hall towards Christopher’s room so he can wake the boy up. If there’s one thing he can count on is that at least one Diaz will always love him and actually talk to him about his feelings.

~

“Buckaroo, you gonna tell me what’s going on or just keep sitting in silence?” Athena asks. “Not that I don’t like getting calls from you because you’re about one of the only people I can stand to have a phone call with. But, it did seem like you called me for a reason.”

Letting out a sigh, Buck leans his head against the back of the couch as he massages his bad leg. He’s not sure exactly what is causing the flare up, but he thinks it might be a mix of stress and the fact that he hasn’t moved basically all day. After Eddie left, he started cleaning the house, but by noon he was done, and he started watching baking shows. Now it’s three and he still hasn’t stopped. Eddie also hasn’t been home all day. And, even though he knows he will be soon, Buck kind of hates that the only reason will be to drive with him to Athena and Bobby’s house. The jeep is still parked outside Buck’s apartment and there just hasn’t been much time to go get it.

“Eddie and I fought,” he confesses.

“Oh, hon, about what?”

“He won’t— he won’t talk to me,” Buck says, “and he hasn’t ever been good at it. But… since Shanon, I’m not sure if he’s talked to anyone about it. Besides Christopher when he’s missing her.”

Athena pauses for a moment, then sighs. “It’s hard loving someone who doesn’t like themselves,” she begins, “because we want them to see that they matter, but they don’t believe it.”

I just don’t get why you have to talk about yourself that way. How do you not see how amazing you are, Buck?

“Yeah, I, uh, I think Eddie might be frustrated with me too,” Buck replies, realizing it himself as he says it out loud. “I am talking about it… but I don’t…”

“You don’t?”

Rubbing his forehead, Buck purses his lips to the side as he thinks of the right way to phrase his next words. “This is… gonna sound bad, I know it is. But, I just struggle sometimes to understand why people like me and my personality and… everything.”

“I know you do, baby, and I think Eddie does too. The only thing we can really do for someone who feels that way is keep loving them anyway. And, encourage them to get help. You are a step ahead of Eddie on that front. He might be a tough nut to crack.”

Buck lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so.” His phone buzzes against his cheek, so he pulls it back. An unknown number is trying to call him. Usually he wouldn’t pick up, but since the custody lawyer was supposed to call him today so they could confirm meeting details, he needs to make sure it’s not the firm. Quickly, Buck brings the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, ‘Thena, I’m getting a call.”

“No problem, baby,” Athena says, “I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

He almost hangs up, then processes what she said, and his eyes water. It’s what he imagined phone calls would be like with a parent who actually cared about him. Understand, calm, kind, and always ending with an ‘I love you.’ “I-I love you too.”

Hanging up, Buck accepts the next call before it goes to voicemail. “Hello, Evan Buckley speaking.”

The phone line crackles, like someone is letting out a shaky breath. Furrowing his eyebrows, Buck turns up the volume on his phone, worried he’s going to miss something. “...Hi.”

Sitting up, Buck grips the cushion beside him to try and prevent himself from going into complete freak out mode. “Eddie, hey… what’s going on? This isn’t your number.”

“I’m sorry.”

Buck swears he hears Eddie’s voice crack.

“Eddie, what is going on?” he repeats, firmer this time, but still trying to remain calm.

“I… I need you to pick me up,” Eddie says, “I was arrested.”

Standing up from the couch, Buck grabs his house key from off the coffee table. “Where’s your truck?”

“It’s at Christopher’s school,” he answers, pushing out a sharp breath. “I think the keys landed on the ground.”

Buck leaves the house, shoving his wallet into his jean pocket as he goes. “Eds, is Chris still at school?” He locks the door behind him, pausing outside. He’ll need to call a cab to drive him to the school.

“No, uh, a friend’s mom is bringing him to Bobby and Athena’s,” he explains, “she saw— but he didn’t see, Buck. I swear, he didn’t. I wouldn’t want him to— God, I’m just a-a monster.”

“Hey, Eddie, please take a breath.” Buck frowns. “What did you do?”

“...I punched a guy.”

~

When Buck gets to Christopher’s school, he finds Eddie’s keys next to a stain of blood on the pavement. He tries not to focus on it too much and gets going. The idea of Eddie in a prison cell is painful to think about for too long.

Buck is there for two hours, first filling out some paperwork for Eddie, then just waiting for them to finish talking to him. So far no charges have been pressed and the cop who brought Eddie in seems to think since it was a misdemeanor and his first offence, likely he won’t have to pay any money. That makes him feel a little bit better.

Athena

Hey, baby, Eddie isn’t answering his phone,

and Christopher seems a little confused

because he said he was going to pick him

up.

And, of course we don’t mind you running

late, but I’m starting to get a bit worried

since our call ended so abruptly.

Buck

Omg, I’m so sorry, Athena.

Eddie had a problem getting home,

so I came to get him. He didn’t get

the chance to let Christopher know.

Athena

Ah, I see, car trouble?

Buck

Yeah, a bit.

We should be there soon.

I’m sorry.

Athena

My boy, I’m going to ban that word

from your vocabulary.

Take your time. We’ll be waiting,

so will your little girl.

“Evan Buckley?”

Eyes jumping up from his phone, Buck immediately stands when he sees an officer next to Eddie across the room. She’s unlocking the brunet man from handcuffs and Buck absolutely hates the visual. “Hi, yeah, I’m here,” Buck says, giving the woman an awkward smile.

“Your boyfriend got lucky this time,” the officer states, tone so cold that Buck doesn’t bother correcting her. “First time offence and the other guy isn’t planning on pressing charges. Won’t get so lucky next time, so you better keep your eye on him.”

Buck purses his lips. “I’m planning on it.”

It’s silent until they’re outside of Eddie’s truck. The brunet man heads towards the passenger’s side, reaching for the handle, but before he can open it, Buck stands in the way. “I’m really not interested in a lecture right now,” he says, “I’m tired. My hand hurts and I just want to go see the 118.”

“Your hand hurts? As much as that guy’s face, you think?” Eddie scoffs and Buck grabs his shoulder, so his best friend will actually look him in the eye. “You’ve made me late to see Jaz, so you don’t get to keep doing the tough guy act. Explain yourself.”

Working his jaw, Eddie’s shoulders sag a little. “Buck, he got all in my face for—”

“—parking in an accessible parking spot, I heard,” Buck says, letting his hand fall away from Eddie’s shoulder. “But, Eddie, why did you punch him? You have the placard that says you can park in those spots, so screw him. For all he knows you have an invisible disability, he doesn’t get to judge you or assume anything about you. So, why did you let him get to you?”

Running his fingers through his short hair, Eddie quickly blinks when his eyes glaze over. He shrugs his shoulders, like even he doesn’t know. “I just… got so… angry.” He stands beside Buck so he can lean against the side of his truck. “Ever since Shannon died, I—” Shaking his head, Eddie looks down at the ground. “Then, the ladder truck and I didn’t have my partner at work anymore. It made me even angrier. Then I found you and Christopher in the tsunami. Then I found out what that— that woman did to you. It just… everything keeps making me angry. I want to kill her for what she did. I’m not supposed to say it, but it’s true. The fact that she hurt you the way she did and then didn’t even have the courage to tell you about Jasmine.” He hits the back of his head against the truck, not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough it makes Buck wince. “Shannon. I’m angry at Shannon too. Which is…” He half scoffs, half laughs. “...ridiculous.”

“It’s normal, Eddie,” Buck says, “I may not know much, but I know that much. When someone dies and you had a complicated relationship with them… it’s not easy. Especially since things with you guys were, you know, unfinished. With the proposal and all.”

“Honestly I didn’t want to marry her,” Eddie admits, voice quiet when he does. “I mean, I thought I did. But, it was just like the first time. I tricked myself into thinking that was best. And, I did love Shannon, of course I did. She was the mother of my child. But… we were best friends in high school, neither of us were very popular. She got pregnant, our families are both religious so… it was just the responsible thing to do. That’s what we thought, what we were told…. When she came back I just fell back into old habits. Sleeping with her, sneaking around, it just— it brought me back to before everything fell apart. And, I just thought; why not? Maybe I’m not in love with her, but I loved her. Dating is messy and I decided to settle. And that makes me feel like a complete asshole. Which makes me hate her for coming back just to leave again. Which makes me hate myself for hating a dead person. And it just goes… in a circle.”

Buck looks over at Eddie, taking in his expression. A tear escapes from his eye, but he wipes it away fast. Other than that, his face is relatively blank. As the months have passed, it’s gotten easier for Eddie and Christopher to talk about Shanon, but they always have an identical haunting look in their eyes. Christopher’s is always because he was so young, almost too young to understand it. But, Eddie… he just seems to be angry and sad and confused all at once. Mostly angry, though. Always at least angry.

“Everyone does it, clinging to the past,” Buck says, “it’s easier than facing the future. But, Eddie, if you don’t, you’ll never survive this feeling. Christopher needs you to. And… so do I.” Eddie looks up at Buck. “If he had seen you—”

“I know,” Eddie whispers. He nudges Buck’s shoulder. “...Wanna go see the kids? ‘Cause I would really like to see their smiles just about now.”

Buck nods. He figured Eddie was getting close to his fill of emotions for the day. “Yeah, so could I.” He twists the keys in his fingers as he starts heading around the truck. He pauses, then turns back to Eddie who’s opening his door, about to get inside. “Oh, Eddie?” The older man tilts his head. “Please, don’t commit murder.”

Scoffing, Eddie steps up into his truck, mumbling to himself, “No promises.”

Though Buck knows Eddie is over exaggerating, it still feels nice having someone act so protective over him. Him calling Christopher and Jasmine ‘the kids’ also makes someone warm settle in his chest.

He really hopes this means Eddie will consider therapy. If he doesn’t… Buck isn’t sure if he can keep this arrest to himself. Christopher is his top priority, ever since he met the kid, it’s been that way. And, Buck knows he can’t handle losing another parent.

Buck sighs as he gets into the driver’s side, about to turn the ignition on when Eddie reaches over and covers his hand. His blue eyes linger there for a moment, taking in the bruises on Eddie’s knuckles before he looks up at his best friend.

“I’m sorry, for getting mad at you today,” Eddie says, “you didn’t deserve it. It’s just… easier sometimes getting mad at people you love. Which isn’t an excuse.” He pulls Buck’s hand away from his keys so he can interlock their fingers. “I love you too, by the way. Before you, I don’t think I ever had a real best friend.”

Smiling as his heart skips a beat, Buck nods. “Now you do.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Buck enters Bobby and Athena’s living room, he has an armful of Christopher Diaz.

“My favourite person ever!” Buck exclaims, pulling Christopher off the ground as he hugs them since it never fails to make him laugh. “I missed you all day.”

Christopher levels Buck with a look. “Buck, I was at school.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Buck says, placing him back down on the ground and only letting go when he’s sure the boy is balanced. “Still missed you.”

The nine year old grins at him. “I missed you too.”

“Hey, boys,” Athena calls out, a platter with cheese and crackers in her hands. “Just in time, we were moving the party outside.” Something fond sparkles in her eyes when she sees Buck glancing around. “Your girl is being held by her Uncle Chimney right now.”

“Oh God, he’s going to tell her so many terrible things,” Buck jokes, following Athena outside, Eddie a step behind them as he pulls away from his own hug with Christopher.

Standing between Karen and Maddie, Chimney has Jasmine bundled in his arms. It looks like he’s talking to her too, with a wide grin on his face. Though the 118 had briefly seen the baby before, now they’re getting to meet her under better circumstances. He’s so glad that Hen and Karen are fostering her.

“...and I’m going to buy you a million toys,” Chimney is saying, voice high pitched and slow, “and I’m going to make sure you watch all the iconic movies that your Dada and Auntie are too uncultured to know—”

“Trash talking me to my own baby?” Buck asks, voice light as all their heads turn to look at him. It still feels a little weird to call Jasmine his kid, but not a bad weird. Just new.

Her birthmark is so much darker now and Buck is stricken suddenly by how much it resembles his. It’s shaped a little differently, but the placement is the same.

Chimney shrugs with a smile. “Haven’t told any lies.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t lie,” Karen says with a laugh, patting Chimney on the shoulder.

Letting out a sigh, Chimney lifts Jasmine from off his hip. “Alright, time to see your Dada,” he says, holding her towards Buck. “That’s one great kid you have there.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck begins, starting to frown as he pulls Jasmine close. She immediately reaches one of her hands up to rest it on his cheek, which makes his lips twitch briefly. “Not like I have anything to do with that.”

Pursing her lips, Karen reaches out to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Wells doesn’t either,” she whispers, eyeing Jasmine like she doesn’t even want to speak about her biological mother in front of her. “‘Thena will tell you, but she’s collected evidence that suggests Wells rarely ever spent time with Jaz. You have a strong case and soon you won’t be able to say things like that.”

“She’s right.” To Buck’s left, Eddie walks up, smiling at Jasmine who reaches out a hand when she sees the other man. Like he has both other times seeing the baby, Eddie offers her his under finger and she wraps her fist around it. “You, Evan Buckley, are going to be an amazing father. You already are one.”

Letting in a shaky breath, Buck shrugs one shoulder. “I hope so.”

Eyebrows pulling in the middle, Maddie reaches out a foot to hit it against Buck’s shin. “Evan, you’re so good with kids. Look at how much Christopher worships you. You know how to talk to kids, how to make them laugh, and feel heard because you know how you wish our parents had been.”

The others standing with the Buckley siblings, fidget a little awkwardly the way most people do when they mention their parents. None of them have met Margaret or Phillip Buckley. They’ve asked about them here and there, especially whenever Buck has been in the hospital, but after a few bad stories they heard, they stopped.

Christopher, however, has yet to get the hint— “What were your parents like, Buck?” he asks.

Beside him, Denny stands with his hands on his hips. “I thought Bobby and Athena were your parents.”

“Oh, um, well…” Buck trails off, unsure of how to explain.

“You know how Mama and I adopted you?” Karen asks. Denny nods with a smile. “It’s a little like that. Buck grew up with his parents, but when he moved to LA he met Bobby and Athena, and they have become parents to him as well.”

Buck thinks he’s off the hook but then— “Oh, so what were they like?” Denny asks, remembering Chrisotpher’s original inquiry.

“They just… weren’t super warm or…” Buck smiles awkwardly, holding Jasmine tighter when she wraps her arms around his neck. It’s like she knows he needs someone to comfort him. “They weren’t like your Mamas and we didn’t get along very well.”

Clapping her hands together with a smile, Karen gestures over at the table a little ways away that Bobby and Athena had been putting food on. “Kids, why don’t I help you get some snacks while we wait for the burgers to be ready?” She gives Buck a kind look before walking away with Denny and Christopher.

“Thank goodness,” Buck says, smiling at Jasmine as she starts to babble at him, trying to form words. “I missed you too, Jaz.”

Eddie leans over Buck’s shoulder. “Not as much as me,” he tells the little girl who just looks back and forth between both men, smiling. “Has she spoken yet?”

Hen who was walking up to them shakes her head, holding a glass of wine in one hand. “We point to pictures of Buck and say ‘Dada’, she’s been trying to sound it out, but hasn’t yet.”

“Buck said his first word on his first birthday,” Maddie says, smiling at her brother. “He said Maddie. I was so proud. I was playing with him and he just said it. For weeks I had been trying to get him to, but he didn’t, so I gave up for a little bit. Then, out of nowhere, he smiled at me, reaching his arms up and said my name. Wish I had it on video, he was adorable.”

Rolling his eyes as a blush creeps up his neck, Buck gives Maddie a look. “I was not.”

“You were,” Maddie says, holding up a hand before Buck can disagree again. “Don’t you dare argue with me because Jasmine looks like your twin.”

“Maddie is right, you don’t want to do that.” Eddie laughs. “So, let’s just all agree that Jasmine is gorgeous.”

Swallowing thickly, Buck pointedly doesn’t make eye contact with Eddie. Because what the heck that kind of sounded like he was saying Buck is gorgeous too.

Which probably means nothing.

~

Bobby will not let go of Jasmine.

He and Athena have been talking to her for an hour straight now, admiring the way she smiles and giggles. It makes something in his stomach settle, seeing in person what kind of grandparents they’re going to be to his kid.

“I know I already said this but Jasmine is so beautiful,” Maddie tells him, hooking her arm around his, and leaning her head on his shoulder. “She looks so much like you as a baby.”

“Every day I see her, her birthmark gets darker,” Buck says, unable to keep the smile off his face. “You think she wants to be just like me?”

Letting out a loud laugh at that, Maddie rolls her eyes. “Oh, of course. Just call her Jasmine Mini Buck Buckley.”

“Well, Christopher is determined to keep calling her Baby Buck,” he comments as he watches the child make his way over to Bobby and Athena, May close behind. Before Jasmine’s grandparents decided to keep her all to themselves, May had been obsessing over the baby. She even called herself ‘Aunt May’ which definitely did not make Buck tear up. “But having her middle name be Buck and her last name Buckley would probably be too confusing.”

Chimney catches the tail end of their conversation as he carries over two glasses of wine, handing Maddie one before he settles himself into a chair beside the siblings. “Do you have a middle name picked out for her yet?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink.

“Actually, I have two,” Buck says, “her full name is; Jasmine Roberta Maddie Buckley.”

Maddie’s head whips around so fast that Buck is sure it had to hurt. Her eyes fill up with tears so fast that he’s about to ask her if she’s okay, but then she punches him in the side, and he gasps in surprise instead. Like a child, Chimney is in a fit of giggles at Buck’s confused face.

“Ow?” Buck laughs, barely having a break before Maddie is pulling him into her arms. He hugs her back just as tight, pressing a kiss to her head. “Yeah, I love you too, Mads.”

When Athena stands up, heading into the house as she picks up a call, Buck makes his way over to Bobby on the patio so he can take her spot. Bobby glances at Buck, a shine to his eyes and a wide smile on his face as he looks back at Jasmine. “She’s my new favourite Buckley, sorry, kid.”

Buck just smiles. “Don’t apologize, she’s mine too.”

“What about me!” Christopher exclaims with a giggle as he launches himself onto Buck’s laugh.

“What about you?” Buck teases, picking up the nine year old boy and holding him in his lap. “Well, you’re my favourite Diaz.”

Christopher does the overdramatic puppy pout that Eddie swears he learned from Buck. (He will neither confirm nor deny these accusations.) “Hold me like that.” Chris points at Jasmine in Bobby’s arms.

From where he’d been hanging back, Eddie leans his hip against the side of Buck’s chair. “Chris, you aren’t a baby.”

“Oh, but we can pretend,” Buck says when Eddie’s comment makes Christopher’s frown deepen into a real one. He adjusts the boy in his arms, placing his crutches to the side so he can properly hold him. As he makes sure to over exaggerate his movements, rocking the boy back and forth, Buck can’t help but wish he could have met Chris as a baby. Recently he’s always reminding them that he’s not a baby, but Buck assumes he might be feeling a little jealous now that another child is in his life. “There we go. Now you’re just like Baby Buck.”

“I wish you could be my dad too,” Christopher whispers, reaching up to grip Buck’s collar. “Sometimes… sometimes I pretend you are ‘cause…” He trails off when his eyes get stuck on something behind Buck and it’s probably for the best because the man feels close to sobbing right about now.

Glancing back, Buck sees Christopher is staring at Eddie, obviously having forgotten his father was right there. Honestly, Buck did for a moment too. He worries briefly that Eddie will be mad or offended, but he has a small smile on his face as he stares down at them both. “‘Cause?” Eddie prompts.

“‘Cause I,” Christopher continues slowly, shyly flickering his eyes at Buck before looking down. He starts to trace the lines of Buck’s neck and along his collarbone to distract himself. “I love you like a dad… is that okay?”

Opening his mouth, Buck is going to say ‘yes’ right away, but the words die in his throat when he remembers his best friend right there. Obviously he encouraged Christopher to continue and he has allowed Buck to take on a sort of parental role in the kid’s life, but they never really talked about it in detail. Buck didn’t realize that Christopher saw him that way and it makes something flutter in his chest because he sees the boy as his son.

“Of course, mi amor,” Eddie answers, leaning down to brush back Christopher’s hair. “Family isn’t just blood, remember? Bobby and Athena are like Buck’s parents. Hen and Karen are like your aunts, Denny is your cousin. Sometimes families are biologically related, but not always. You get to choose your family. Just like how you said Jaz is your baby sister.”

Buck lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding throughout Eddie’s reply. There’s a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, so all Buck does is pull Christopher in closer.

Unfortunately the moment doesn’t last long.

“Buck?”

At the sound of his name, he raises his head. Athena is standing in the doorway, phone in one hand, and the corner of her lips turned down. “Hey, hon, can I talk to you for a second?”

Swallowing thickly, Buck nods, forcing a smile on his face as he looks back down at Christopher. “Sorry, bud, you’re going to have to grow back into a big kid again!” he exclaims, whooping loudly as he sets Christopher back on his feet. It makes the kid fall into a fit of giggles and the sound alone almost quiets Buck’s fear. He presses a kiss to the kid’s curls before he stands up.

Eddie is right behind him and Buck is glad that he doesn’t even have to ask for him to come.

Once they’re inside, Athena closes the door behind the men, briefly giving Bobby a nod when he looks over in concern. She turns to Buck as she slides her phone into her pocket. “Alright, that was the judge who’s been assigned to your case,” Athena explains. “She says since there isn’t really any evidence yet of the assault and because she doesn’t consider you to be in immediate danger, they won’t be granting you a temporary restraining order.” She reaches out to rub a hand up and down Buck’s arm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know it would have given you at least some peace of mind.”

Clenching his jaw, Buck shrugs one shoulder up, movements tense and jittery. “It is what it is,” he says, “at least I tried.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “Um, is there anything else? Has the DNA come back yet?”

“Unfortunately not,” Athena replies, “but, yes, there’s a bit more. Wells has already lawyered up. I chatted with her a bit in the hospital, but she was still very out of it then. I was supposed to meet with her tomorrow, but now it won’t be until a little later.”

“So, she—” Eddie cuts himself off, scoffing in disbelief. “She’s really going to try and defend herself?”

“It seems like it.” Athena keeps her eyes trained on Buck. “I’m sorry, baby, I’d hope she’d just plead guilty, maybe take a deal so you wouldn’t have to go through a long procedure.” She raises up her other hand, index finger pointed. “But, do not let that discourage you. They have no case, Buck. You have DNA evidence, records of the appointment, and we finally got ahold of those witnesses you texted me about. It should be cut and dry and I’m sure the prosecutor assigned to your case will tell you as much too.”

Buck wraps his arms around his stomach, glancing back out through the glass doors over at Bobby who is now standing with Jasmine in his arms. “I just wish I could take her home with me.”

“I know,” Athena says, “as soon as they confirm paternity, we are going to fight to get you temporary custody. The days are going to feel like forever, but when you finally get there, you’ll realize how fast time went by. It’s already been a week since they were sent in.”

“You just gotta focus on therapy and moving in,” Eddie adds quietly. “Therapy will help you adjust to it all and when you move in we can set up the guest room.”

Athena raises an eyebrow at Eddie. “You have a guest room?”

Scratching the back of his neck with a laugh, Eddie admits, “Well, it’s sort of a storage room right now.”

~

“Te amo infinitamente, princesa. Papá y yo vamos a traerte pronto a casa,” Eddie whispers to Jasmine as he leans over Buck's shoulder to look at her. “Dulces sueños.”

“He’s right, we will,” Buck agrees softly, brushing her hair back before pressing a kiss against Jasmine’s forehead. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”

Maddie walks up from where she’d been putting on her shoes. “Your Aunt Maddie loves you too, perfect girl.”

The moment Jasmine is out of Buck’s arms, she starts to cry, and the man’s heart breaks in two as he watches Hen and Karen leave with her. He digs the palm of his hand into his left pec, as if it could fix the ache he feels. Though he hasn’t spent much time with Jasmine, Buck can’t picture never seeing her again.

Eddie walks off to help Christopher get ready to go and Maddie leans towards Buck with a knowing smile. “He’s really good with her, huh?” she whispers.

Rolling his eyes, Buck crosses his arms over his chest. “What does that mean?”

“Just saying, he keeps referring to her as his,” she begins, “keeps saying that you guys are going to figure it out together. You’re moving in with him and — the cherry on top — while you’re waiting for his guest room to clear up, you’re sharing a bed. You guys are basically a married couple, just without the kissing and stuff.” When Buck only gives her a look, she shrugs. “You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it?”

He turns his head towards Eddie, watching him zip up Christopher’s coat, and saying something that makes the kid giggle. “Of course I have, they’re what I want,” he admits quietly. “But, he’s straight.”

“Oh really?” Maddie asks, raising an eyebrow. “And, when did he tell you this?”

Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times, but before he can answer — actually, he’s never said it — Chimney is walking up, and saying he’s ready to go. Logically Buck knows, even if Eddie ever did say he was straight, sexuality is fluid and confusing, things can change. However, life has never been that kind to Buck. Sometimes, there’s moments when Buck thinks they might be something more. When they’re parenting Christopher, spending every night together, exchanging house keys. Hell, Buck recently found out he’s Eddie’s emergency contact, and after that he added Eddie to his list. Before Eddie, Buck never had a best friend really, and earlier today, Eddie said the same. So… maybe they just don’t get the rules of friendship.

“Hey—” Eddie grins at Buck, nodding towards the door. “—ready to go home, cowboy?”

Like a flower being bathed in sunlight, Buck’s face opens up completely, eyes twinkling at Eddie. “Yeah. Let's go home.”

Chapter Text

“What’s this?”

Buck is finally at his apartment for the first time in a while to start packing up his things. Currently, Eddie is putting a couple boxes downstairs in his truck, and Buck was going to follow after him after finishing putting away his books when Bobby entered. He did mention a couple days ago when at his and Athena’s that they would be doing this on Eddie’s two days off, but he wasn’t expecting anyone to show up.

And, he certainly wasn’t expecting Bobby to show up with a packet of paper, dropping it on the kitchen table next to Buck’s box.

His captain reaches out, pointing at the heading on the first page. “Paternity leave forms,” he begins, “for when you get Jasmine. It’s been almost two weeks now since the DNA was sent in and Athena was told by the lab that it should be ready in about a week and a half. So, you can take time off when she gets here.”

“What about the two weeks notice I handed in before the tsunami?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. “I can’t just come back. Besides, like you said, it’ll only be light duty.”

For a moment, Bobby tenses up, forehead wrinkling. “It— It was my fault that you got put on light duty,” he says, “and I’m really sorry. You know, you’re like a son to me and the last time I had a son and daughter…” Buck looks down at the ground, keeping the automatic words of anger that threatened to spill out to himself. He knows it’s hard for Bobby to talk about Robert Jr. and Sarah. “Which isn't an excuse, you deserve better. I was just scared and I love you so much, kid… I’ve already handled talking to the Fire Chief and explained everything, so when your paternity leave is up, you can come back to the 118. That is… if you’re not angry with me.”

“I…” Buck presses his lips together. “I get it. I’m… I’m a little mad, but I do get it, Bobby. ‘Cause I love you too.” He nods. “Of course I’ll come back to the 118.” Shifting his feet awkwardly, Buck tries to give Bobby a half smile. He really doesn’t want to waste time arguing with Bobby. Later, he’ll think about it more, maybe talk to Eddie about it, but right now there are more important things going on. “So, uh, how does this paternity leave work?”

“Right, well, you need to fill this out,” Bobby says, picking up the package and shuffling a few papers back. “I also have a form so you can try applying for pre-placement leave. If you got approved, you could take time off during the rest of the time you’re waiting for the DNA results to come back. Then, your paternity leave would come into play and hopefully the trial will be over by the time the leave is up. It covers twelve weeks paid and if you need longer, you can take an additional eight weeks, which would be unpaid.”

Buck nods slowly. That’s a lot to process.

“Um, so you think I should take this next two weeks or so off?”

Bobby places the papers down. “I promise you, this isn’t me trying to protect you again… Well, not in the same way. I just think an extra week or two could be good so you can get everything ready, buy what you need, and lots of time for therapy. Just think about it. If you do decide to do the pre-placement leave, let me know as soon as you can. Your case is a bit… different, so Athena and I would provide reference letters on your behalf to explain the situation.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it, thank you,” Buck says, smiling at Eddie as he walks through the front door. “Hey, that stuff all fit?”

“Yup, got room for two more, I think,” Eddie replies, nodding at Bobby. “Hey, Cap, everything okay?”

Bobby nods back at the man. “Yes, I just came to drop off some paperwork for Buck. I’ll leave you boys to it. When you’re ready to pack up all the big stuff, just let us all know.”

“Okay, and, Bobby?” The man turns back around from where he had been halfway out the door. “Can I, uh, could I let you know when my appointment is with the custody lawyer so you can come with me?”

A relieved sounding breath leaves Bobby before he gives Buck a gentle smile. “Of course, Buck. I would be happy to come with you, any time.” With that, he heads out the front door, leaving it open like it was when he entered.

Tilting his head down to look at the papers, Eddie murmurs quietly to himself as he looks over the contents. Buck stays quiet as the older man starts flipping through the pages. “Hm,” he hums, looking up at the other firefighter once he’s finished. “How come he didn’t just send it to you?”

Buck grabs his arm awkwardly, not allowing his eyebrows to furrow the way they want to. He wants to remain neutral, see how Eddie reacts. “Um, well, he also had something to tell me. I guess… I never was— well, the Fire Chief did put me on light duty, but it was because Bobby told him he didn’t think I could handle coming back.”

Jaw clenching, Eddie clearly makes an attempt to contain his frustration, but Buck knows him too well now. See how his eyes become hooded, how his lips press together, and his shoulders square up like he’s preparing for a boxing match. “Why the f— Why would he do that?” he manages to get out, the second time he says it is in a less rage filled tone. Obviously everything Buck said the other day before they went to Bobby and Athena’s has been sticking with him.

It’s not that Eddie is always snapping at Buck, but the only person he never shows his anger to is Chrisotpher. Sometimes even then he struggles. Buck never meant for him to not express his rage when he feels it, but he wishes he would do it in a healthy way. It’s clear he hasn’t figured that out yet and seems to be fighting internally with himself. His dark brown eyes jump over to the door, like he wants to go chase after Bobby, and give him a piece of his mind.

“He was worried about me,” Buck says, voice even, biting the inside of his cheek a little as he speaks to try and keep his emotions in check. Bobby apologized right away after telling Buck the truth and it’s hard to be mad at someone who does it, especially when it’s clear he means it. (Especially if the person doing the forgiving is Buck. The one thing he might hate more than people being mad at him, is being mad at other people.) “Said he was trying to protect me.”

Scoffing, Eddie hits his fist against the table to his left. It’s not hard enough that Buck flinches, but he has to assume it hurts. Eddie isn’t even looking down at it though, his eyes wander from a random point on the wall, then back at the door again. “We were all worried about you when the ladder truck happened and with the blood too. None of the rest of us tried to ruin your career.”

“He wasn't trying to ruin my career, Eds,” Buck says, “he was trying to protect me.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” Eddie replies, his eyes finally jumping back to Buck’s face. “You don’t see me telling you to quit your job or telling the most important man in our line of work you don’t have what it takes. It’s selfish.”

Buck frowns. “Eddie, this is Cap we’re talking about. Okay? I… I get it, I’m mad too, but—”

“But,” Eddie repeats, forcing a laugh. It’s sarcastic and angry and it might be the only thing about Eddie that Buck doesn’t love. (A lie. He can’t help but love even the things that hurt him.) “Really, Buck? So, what, you forgave him already? You really trust him to go to the Chief and tell him the truth now?”

“Yeah, I do,” Buck says, “it’s not like he’ll get in trouble. Probably a slap on the wrist at most. Why would he give me papers to fill out if he didn’t have the intention of clearing the air with the Chief?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie starts closing the box that Buck had been adding books to. “This one done?”

Buck can only blink at him for a moment, then rubs at his forehead. “Yeah.” Eddie picks it up and goes to turn, but Buck grabs his arm before he can get further. “So, I was under the impression that we were still having a conversation.”

Shrugging his hand off, Eddie narrows his eyes. “Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“Um, we didn’t reach a resolution,” Buck begins, “you didn’t answer my question, you’re clearly still pissed at me—”

“I’m pissed at Bobby,” Eddie corrects.

“Oh, much better then,” Buck says sarcastically, giving Eddie a deadpan look. “Eddie, you still have to work with Bobby and I can’t be there to keep you from saying something. So, please don’t. I don’t want Bobby to think I hate him now.”

Placing the box back down, Eddie grabs Buck’s hand in his, shaking them a little like he feels he’s struggling to get through to him. “Evan,” — oh great, he’s serious — “you can’t just forgive him. He needs to show you he’s going to keep his promise.”

“I never said I forgave him,” Buck says, “you assumed that.”

“You’re telling me you weren’t just going to act like everything is normal?”

Buck groans, rubbing his head again. “I’m getting a headache,” he mutters. “Look, it happened a while ago. It was before the tsunami, before Jasmine, I just don’t have the energy to… fight anything else. Maybe if all this wasn’t going on, maybe if he wasn’t going to fix it, I would feel differently. But, he is going to. There’s nothing I can do about it. He’s coming clean. You want me to tell on him again?”

“I want you to not just let him off the hook,” Eddie says.

“Wasn’t planning on it, I told him I’m mad,” Buck replies, “I just don’t see things as black and white like you, Eddie. Also, I’m my own person, I make my own life decisions, and I get to decide who I forgive and who I don’t forgive. I really appreciate your support, how you’ve been helping me. Taking care of me after the tsunami, letting me move in, finding me a therapist, but you don’t control my life.”

Through gritted teeth, Eddie says, “it wasn’t my intention to.”

“You say that, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way to me,” Buck says, picking up the box. “There’s another one of these in the living room. I’m going to drive my jeep back home, so I have it next time I need to pick you up from jail.”

It’s mean and a low blow, but Buck doesn’t care. He’s sick of Eddie acting like he’s some project or child he has to manage. Buck does need support, but what he doesn’t want or need is Eddie telling him how he should feel. Especially when Eddie rarely knows his own emotions.

~

When Eddie is at work the next day, Christopher and Buck are home with each other since the kid has a Pro-D Day. Honestly, Buck was nervous about it at first. Though he has watched the kid many times, the night before he had burst into Eddie’s room to wake the men up because he had a bad dream.

It ends up going really well, even if for most of the day he doesn’t figure out a way to bring up the nightmare.

They spend the day colouring, watching TV, and chatting. Buck thinks he could listen to Christopher rant for days on end and never get bored. In fact, he can’t imagine a better way to spend the rest of his life.

There’s a baking show on and that’s when Christopher decides they should bake something. Now, Buck has learned bits here and there from what Bobby knows about baking, but he’s still not confident in that area. Still, there is very little he wouldn’t do — if anything — for Christopher. So, they decide to make brownies, something Buck knows is simple. (Or, something only Eddie could end up burning or giving them food poisoning with. Both statements based on true examples.)

“So,” Buck says, mixing the dry ingredients together as Christopher whisk the wet ingredients, “your dad says you’ve been having nightmares recently.” He swallows thickly, hating the fact he was unable to help shield the kid from all of the trauma of the tsunami. Christopher pauses his movements, sideeyeing Buck briefly before continuing. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, but I’m here if you need me. I’m always here, buddy.”

“I tried to be brave,” Christopher says, “I didn’t want to wake you and Daddy up. But, I was scared.”

“You can always, always wake me and your dad up,” Buck tells him, reaching out to squeeze Christopher’s wrist. “Everyone gets nightmares. Especially after going through difficult things.”

“Does Daddy have bad dreams about Mom?” Christopher asks, voice quiet as he stops whisking and fixes his eyes pointedly on where Buck holds his hand.

Frowning, Buck adjusts so he can hold Christopher’s hand with both his hands, but the kid still won’t look at him. “I’m sure he does,” he answers, “I haven’t ever asked him. He’s never told me, but… Daddy was there, you know? When it happened.” Christopher nods slowly. “It’s scary and sad watching someone you love die. Why don’t you ask your dad about his dreams?”

“I don’t want to make him sad,” Christopher answers, sucking in a warbly breath as his eyes shine. “Daddy gets sad when I talk about Mom.”

“It’s just ‘cause he misses her,” Buck says, “but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to talk about her. Your dad and I were just talking about your mom the other day. It can be hard, but it’s important, you know why?” Christopher shrugs a shoulder as a tear escapes his eye. Reaching up to cup the kids face, Buck gently wipes at the droplets that continue to fall, giving a sad hum. Finally, though, his kid— the kid looks at him. “Because we never want to forget the people we love. So, if we talk about them, we can’t forget them. When someone dies, our relationship with them continues. When my grandma died, I still used to talk to her.”

Christopher’s eyebrows furrow. “How?”

“I would go to the park she liked,” Buck says, “and I would talk to the tree she used to sit with me under. She couldn’t answer me, but I always knew she was listening. And, I know for a fact that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, your mom is watching you. She loves you so much.”

Leaning towards Buck, Christopher untangles their hands so he can wrap his arms around the man. With a smile, Buck returns the hug, pressing a kiss to the boy’s curls. “Does she think I don’t love her anymore because I said you were my dad too?”

“No, Chris, because you can have more than two parents,” Buck whispers back, “I promise you she knows how much you love her. And, if you want to, you can remind her.”

“Like talk to Mom how you talk to your grandma?” When Buck nods, Christopher leans back just enough to look up at him. “I’ll feel silly.”

“What if we go somewhere your mom loves?” Buck asks. “Would that make it easier?”

Christopher purses his lips to the side, hesitant. “...She loves the ocean.”

Taking in a breath so he doesn’t react badly, Buck starts to nod slowly. “...okay. Um, alright, well, we can go sometime soon.”

“What if there’s another tsunami?” Christopher asks tearfully.

“There won’t be, sweetheart.” Buck kisses his forehead. “But, if there was, I would protect you from it.”

“Like last time?” Christopher manages a small smile. “And we just keep swimming.”

Buck laughs. “Exactly.” He nods over at the two bowls. “Now, what do you say we finish this batter so we can get the brownies in the oven?”

They get the brownies into the oven in record time and Buck only has to clean up one spill which was his own fault. Christopher launches into a story about his teacher who got his friend in trouble for no reason — Buck eventually deduces the reason was his friend threw an eraser at her — and all Buck can do is sit with a smile as he listens. It’s amazing to him how kids can move on from topic to topic without needing much time to recover.

While Christopher is reaching the end of his story — his friend having to apologize to the teacher for ‘doing nothing’ — the front door creaks open. Since Buck was not expecting Eddie back until tomorrow morning, which is hopefully enough time away from one another to cool off after their argument, he jumps up in fear.

“It was open!” A familiar voice shouts, making Buck relax immediately, heading towards the living room with Christopher in tow.

Athena smiles at the duo. “Hey, boys, I thought I’d pay you a visit,” she says, pulling Buck into a hug once he’s within arms reach. Buck is really not used to this whole supportive and caring mom thing, but he manages to catch up fast enough, wrapping his arms around her too. They pull apart and Athena cups his face, squeezing his cheeks affectionately before letting her hands drop down. “And, Eddie told me you have a therapy appointment.”

“I had one last week without him,” Buck says, rolling his eyes, “and I didn’t need him.”

Pushing past the man and heading towards the kitchen, Athena shrugs. “Yeah, but he didn’t want you to get distracted by Christopher. Besides, this way I can cook for you both, give you a break for once, Buck.”

Christopher nods solemnly. “Daddy never cooks because he’s really bad at it.”

Barking out a laugh, Athena starts opening all the cupboards to see what food they have in the house, and Buck can’t help but smile a little too. “Well, don’t you worry, Chris, I know a thing or two about cooking.”

Buck pauses, thinking for a moment before he pulls out his phone.

Buck

Athena’s here.

Eddie

That’s nice of her.

Buck

Thank you.

Eddie

For what?

Buck

Shut up.

I’m sorry.

Eddie

Please don’t say you’re sorry,

not when I’m the one who was

being an asshole.

Buck

I don’t like fighting with you.

Eddie

I don’t like fighting with you either.

And I know I don't control you, so

I’m sorry for ever making you think

I would try to do that.

Buck

I forgive you.

Eddie

Of course you do.

Buck

Eddieeeee

Eddie

Just kidding.

Thanks for forgiving me.

How was Christopher?

Buck

He told me about the dream.

Kinda.

We can talk about it later, but

I think we should bring him to

the beach.

Eddie

Are you sure?

Buck

It’ll be good for him.

For both of us.

The fear will just get worse if we

put it off too long.

And he has something important

he needs to do.

Eddie

Business meeting?

Buck

Precisely.

Eddie

Not even a hint?

Buck

It’s an in-person talk kinda thing.

Eddie

Ok.

Text me during therapy if you

need.

Buck

Thought that’s why Athena’s

here.

Eddie

Still.

Buck

I will. Thank you.

And be safe.

Eddie

I will.

Love you.

For a moment, Buck just hovers his fingers over the keypad, scared to type again, but he can’t hold back for very long. It’s not like Eddie will be able to tell he’s saying it in a romantic way through the screen.

Buck

Love you too.

But we won’t be saving you

any brownies.

Eddie

Nevermind I hate you.

Buck

[Winkey-Face-Blowing-Kiss Emoji]

Chapter Text

Dr. Copeland stares at Buck for a moment when he won’t answer how he’s feeling, before speaking again. “How did you find EMDR last appointment?” she asks.

“Um, I think I liked it,” he answers. “I might need to try it more to know.”

“Oh, definitely, I just want to check in to make sure you want to continue with it.”

Buck nods. “I do.”

“Good, now,” she begins, hands holding in front of her, “how are you feeling this week?”

“Fine.” Buck shrugs.

“You said you felt fine last week, then proceeded to tell me you and Eddie got in a fight, the first one after he was arrested, and before that, you also had an argument.” She pauses as Buck shifts uncomfortably. “How have you two resolved these fights?”

“Well, he apologized to me,” Buck says.

Dr. Copeland writes something down quickly. “Right and what about therapy? Is Eddie planning on taking your advice?”

“I’m not sure,” Buck answers honestly, “he might need to think about it more. He can barely talk about his feelings with me.”

“Is it okay if we come back to Eddie?”

Like he always does, Buck blinks rapidly when she asks him permission for something so simple as if she can change the subject. “Yeah.”

“Have you talked to anyone about Wells since they first found out?”

“Not really,” Buck says, rubbing his bad leg which is starting to twinge. “...should I?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, I can only advise,” Dr. Copeland says, as she always does, “but I do know a lot of people find it helpful to talk about traumatic experiences. Again, I say a lot, but not all people do. And, when I say talk about it, I don’t mean you have to describe the moment in detail, but maybe how it made you feel in the moment, or how it’s continuing to make you feel. Perhaps even something I have said because last week you told me you were surprised to hear I thought you were using sex as a way to self harm.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You said I don’t have any respect for myself.”

“I said you don’t respect your own boundaries and that you don’t value your body.”

“Same thing.”

Dr. Copeland sighs with a smile. “Evan, when I say you don’t respect your own boundaries, I’m referring to the way you — in the past — have put yourself in dangerous situations. Such as travelling the world with people you don’t know, going home with someone you never met without telling anyone—”

“—sleeping with my therapist?” Buck crosses his arms over his chest.

“Evan, you did not sleep with your therapist,” Dr. Copeland says, a reminder because she’s said it in each session (which is only four so far, but still), “Clara Wells assaulted you. When I say ‘dangerous situations’ I am not referring to your assault. I understand the word dangerous may make you think of that event as it was traumatic, but that is not what I’m talking about. Though that was a dangerous situation for you, it should not have been, and it is not your fault.”

A tear rolls down Buck’s cheek and he wipes it away quickly. “Even though I put myself in dangerous situations a lot back then? Even though I didn’t push her away? Even though I told her that—” He covers his mouth, feeling a need to gag at the sudden flash of memory. “She said it was wrong, that I was her patient, and I said I feel better.” He finally looks back at Dr. Copeland and sees she’s frowning in that vaguely supportive way she does whenever Buck tells her something new about himself and his life. “Even then?”

“Yes, Evan, even with all that, it was not your fault,” Dr. Copeland says, “you were not able to consent, so it doesn’t matter what you said or didn’t say, what you did or didn’t do. It was not your fault.” She pauses. “Would you like a moment before I continue?”

“No,” Buck says, wiping his eyes with his shirt. “No, it’s okay.”

“Alright,” she begins, “as I was saying, you put yourself in dangerous situations, and don’t set boundaries. You told me you would agree to everything your sexual partners asked of you in bed even if you didn’t really want to do it, which is not healthy. Evan, I know you say you don’t do that anymore, but you also don’t have casual sex anymore. What if you started dating someone new? If they asked you to do something you were uncomfortable with, would you say yes?”

Buck mulls over that. “I… I don’t think so.”

“The fact that you don’t set boundaries tells me you don’t respect your body, because you allow it to get hurt, and you put it in situations where it could get hurt,” she continues. “Your body is an important part of you. When you put yourself in those dangerous situations we discussed, you harm your body. When you don’t value your body, you start to convince yourself it’s what you deserve. So, you keep doing it and it just keeps going around and around.” Dr. Copeland leans forward. “I’m wondering; where do you think this lack of self worth comes from? You’ve told me about your firefighting team, your relationship with Eddie and his kid Christoper, and about your older sister. All of these relationships — though not perfect — are stable, healthy, and clearly bring joy to your life. So, I don’t think it’s an environmental factor. Is there anything that you think could be the reason?”

“Um,” Buck says, staring at the screen, “I, uh, I don’t know.”

“We haven’t discussed your parents.”

Buck shrugs one shoulder and swallows thickly. “Yeah.”

“What is your relationship with them like?”

“Well, um,” Buck starts, “they never really liked me. I was a difficult kid, always getting into trouble, always getting hurt. They thought I was reckless and stupid.”

Tilting her head, Dr. Copeland hovers her pen over her notepad. “And, how do you know that’s how they felt about you?”

“They said it.”

Eyebrows pinching, she nods, writing that down. “Why were you always getting hurt?”

“Because I was reckless, I did dangerous and stupid things.” Dr. Copeland raises an eyebrow as if to say, what do you think about that? “Which, I guess, could possibly be looked at like I didn’t respect my boundaries or respect my body outside of sex too. Maybe.”

Dr. Copeland hums in agreement. “That is true and from what you’ve told me, it seems this reckless behaviour hasn’t exactly ended. But, I meant more specifically, what was the reason for acting reckless to begin with? Was there not something that made you want to continue doing these dangerous things which resulted in you getting hurt?”

“Oh.” Buck shifts uncomfortably as the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Well… my parents didn’t really… give me attention. They were kinda… absent, I guess. It was the only thing that made them care about me and talk to me and stuff.”

“So, if I said that I think your self-worth issues began in your childhood with your parents not valuing you or making time for you,” she begins, "would that be an accurate assessment?” Buck nods. “And, the fact that you continued doing this when you started at the 118 is because you also liked the attention it got you back then?” Buck nods. “Alright, final question, which is somewhat unrelated; do you think the reason you stopped having as many hook ups wasn’t because your self-worth improved, but because you were fired for being caught with someone on the job?”

“Well, but— how do you know that?” Buck asks.

“I don't know it, but I suspect it's because, one.” Dr. Copeland begins listing reasons while holding up her fingers. “You still put yourself in dangerous situations every day and not just the normal amount of risk that comes with your job. Two, you constantly speak down about yourself and blame yourself for things that are not your fault or that you have no control over. And, three, you don’t ever put yourself first. Now, being selfless is a good quality, but not when it comes at a great personal cost. Swimming after Christopher in the tsunami? An amazing thing to do. Forgiving your captain and father figure for purposefully interfering with your career? It may work in the moment, but if you let him off the hook too fast, he won’t think he needs to work for your forgiveness. And, if he doesn’t work for your forgiveness, the trust he broke cannot be mended.”

“I trust Bobby.”

“With your career?”

Buck falls silent and that’s an answer in itself.

“Again, I am not telling you that you have to be angry with him,” Dr. Copeland says, “but I do think you should consider talking to him about your difficulty trusting him.”

Pushing out a breath, Eddie leans back in his seat. “Great, Eddie’s going to love you said that.”

With a smile, Dr. Copeland shrugs. “He may have been wrong about how to go about it, but I do agree that you shouldn't be so quick to forget. As you’ve told me, Eddie has noticed you don’t value yourself, and that it upsets him. Which is a little ironic as you have said the same thing about him. Though I only spoke to him once and this is just based on what you have told me; it seems you both really value one another, but not yourselves. Do you know the problem with that?” Buck shakes his head. “If you don’t value and love yourself, it makes it difficult to value and love someone else in a proper and healthy way. It’s why therapy is important, it helps us understand ourselves, and learn how to communicate with others with the understanding we’re both coming from different points of view in life.”

“So, you think we’ll fight less if we both do therapy?” Buck asks with a laugh.

“It won’t fix everything,” Dr. Copeland says, “but it couldn’t hurt.”

~

The appointment ends and Buck feels absolutely exhausted.

Unlike last week, Athena and Christopher aren’t outside waiting for him, Eddie’s the only one home right now. Christopher is currently at a sleepover since his nightmares have lessened after a few therapy appointments of his own. Buck didn’t go into too much detail about Christopher’s dream, but told him a lot of it was to do with Shannon.

Smoke is the first thing he smells when he steps out of the hallway. Rolling his eyes with fond expiration, Buck heads into the kitchen, placing his hands on his hips when he sees Eddie fanning at the smoke detector. “This is why I said; order pizza.”

Turning around, Eddie gives Buck a sheepish look, tossing the towel he was using to the side. “I, uh, oops?” He scratches the back of his neck. “I just wanted to do something nice, but, uh… well, I failed. The salad is fine though.”

“Let's have salad then,” Buck says with a laugh, opening the fridge. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie replies, grabbing the bowl of salad along with a couple plates and forks.

The two men settle down at the dining room table, sitting next to one another. If Christopher is there, Buck will sit across from the boys, but when he’s gone the man takes his place. It always feels weird not sitting close to Eddie when they’re at the same table, too far away like they’re strangers or something.

They both help themselves to some salad, settling into a comfortable silence as they eat the first few bites.

“Wow, Emundo Diaz, I’m impressed,” Buck comments after swallowing a mouthful. “Don’t tell me this was from the bag.”

“Nope, that was all me.” Eddie grins at Buck in such an endearing way that the blond man almost dies right there. “I’m a very talented man.”

“Don’t get too cocky, I saw your previous work.” Buck nods back towards the kitchen, smiling when that comment makes Eddie blush. “It’s alright, I don’t need a big home cooked meal. You don’t need to woo me or anything.”

Eddie looks up from behind his eyelashes. “What if I want to woo you?”

Averting eye contact, Buck shovels more salad into his mouth. Eddie should know it’s dangerous to say things like that to him in that tone while practically batting his lashes. If he were any less in control, he might just kiss him.

Reaching out, Eddie places a hand over Buck’s. “How was therapy?”

“Kinda sick of her calling me out, but you know,” Buck says, earning a laugh from Eddie. The younger man laces their fingers together, squeezing. “Glad to be out here with you instead.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?” he teases, leaning his head down so it’s closer to Buck’s.

“Shut up, Christopher is still my favourite Diaz,” Buck shoots back, but doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hand, so it’s clear there’s no heat behind his words.

There are moments like this, where Buck can at least pretend for a little while that they’re more than just friends. Maybe it’s not right, but it’s what keeps him from ripping his hair out with how in love with Eddie he is.

Licking his bottom lip — completely oblivious to the effect it has on Buck — Eddie’s eyes flicker up and down Buck’s face. “It’s quiet without him here, huh?” He leans in so close that their shoulders touch and he smiles. “I love him so much, but it’s kind of nice, just being you and me.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Buck agrees, unsure of where on Eddie’s face to look when they’re only a few inches apart. He jumps from his nose to his lips then quickly up to his eyes. “I like being alone with you.”

Eddie’s breath fans on Buck’s face as he gives a small laugh. “Good, ‘cause with you all moved in now, you’re going to have to get used to it.”

“Apparently I will, considering you still have yet to clear out the guest room.” Buck wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “What? You like having me in your bed that much?” The moment he says it, he regrets it. What the hell is in the beer tonight?

“Maybe I do,” Eddie replies, dead serious.

Yup, whatever’s in the beer has infected Eddie too.

Then, Eddie’s hand slips out of Buck’s, which makes the younger man start to frown. Only, Eddie brings that same hand up to cup Buck’s face and he’s shocked into silence. He strokes a thumb under the crevice of Buck’s eye. “You have an eyelash,” he whispers, but doesn’t move his hand from its place on the other man’s cheek. It feels like the two are molded together, as if they were meant to be that way forever, two puzzle pieces.

“I don’t get to make a wish?” Buck asks, voice quiet, scared to speak any louder as though he could scare Eddie away. Maybe he could, the man has never been overly affectionate.

Eddie’s eyes flicker around Buck’s face. “What’s your wish?”

RING! RING! RING!

The men jump apart at the sound of Buck’s phone ringing. For a moment they’re frozen, staring at one another with flushed cheeks before Buck promptly jumps up to go grab his cellphone.

It’s on the kitchen counter and Buck has never been more grateful for an interruption. If it hadn’t come, he might have done something stupid like kiss Eddie, which would have gotten him kicked out of the house after only living there one day.

“Hello? Evan Buckley speaking,” he says as he answers the call, scrubbing a hand up and down his face as he tries to hold back a groan of complete horror. That would definitely freak out the stranger on the other side of this call.

“Hello, Mr. Buckley, I am Vivian Ivy, the prosecutor assigned to your case. I was calling to see when the best time to meet with you would be.”

Flattening a hand on his stomach, Buck slowly walks back into the dining room, feeling like he wants Eddie near him while he takes this call. “Oh, uh, hi, how— how are you?” he asks.

Glancing up from his plate, Eddie furrows his eyebrows, taking in Buck’s tense body language. Vivian Ivy has started speaking again though, so he doesn’t want to interrupt. “I’m alright, thank you,” she says, “I’m sorry for the hour, but I wanted to get started on this case as soon as I finished reading your files.” Eddie gets up from his spot, warily looking at Buck before he seems to make a decision. He holds out his hand and without hesitation Buck hands him the phone. The call is put on speaker phone, the woman’s voice now filling the previously quiet room. “It seems to me you have a very strong case, so it should be pretty cut and dry. I’ve spoken to Sergeant Grant of the LAPD who gave me a call earlier today and explained the entire situation. The criminal case against Clara Wells is separate from your custody case, so you won’t be in the courtroom for the entirety of it, just for your testimony. If you want to stay for the rest after that, you can as you’re the victim. Does that make sense?”

Shutting his eyes, Buck hates the way the word ‘victim’ seems to float in the air above his head after she says it. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he confirms, voice gravelly, but still clear.

“Will you be free to meet this Friday at noon?”

“Yes, yeah I am,” Buck says, “could I, um, could someone come with me?”

“Yes, of course. Just be mindful we will have to discuss some pretty uncomfortable and serious things. Whoever you bring, make sure it’s someone you feel safe sharing these things with. I’ll see you Friday.”

With that, she hangs up, and Buck is vaguely aware of Eddie taking his phone out of his hand. There’s a clatter somewhere, maybe his phone being put down on the table, before Eddie takes Buck’s hands in his own, and leads him into the living room. Buck is about to protest, insisting they get back to their night, but his throat feels dry, and he can’t find the will to open his mouth right away.

Eddie settles Buck on the couch before he takes a seat next to him, frowning as he watches the younger man start to silently rub at his left knee. Wordlessly, Eddie holds out a hand, an offer to rub Buck’s leg if it’s really bothering him.

Buck isn’t used to someone taking care of him like this all the time. Over the years people have taken care of him for brief periods of time, but never around the clock like Eddie. The 118 is a family, they all care for each other, but then they go home to their close families, and Buck goes to his empty loft. Except now he also has a family to go home to, people he can cook and clean for, people who will watch TV and listen to him talk for hours about random topics. It’s new and comforting, but also familiar and safe. They always felt like a family — Eddie, Buck, and Christopher — or, at least, Buck let himself believe they did. Now, though, it feels so much more real. Which is definitely going to make it hurt more when he eventually has to move out.

Lifting his leg, Buck gently places it on Eddie’s lap, and the brunet man immediately starts to massage his calf. Buck sits back into the cushions properly, finally feeling a little bit of relief in his leg after it’s been bugging him all day.

“Can you tell me what’s upsetting you right now?” Eddie asks gently, continuing to massage along Buck’s sore muscles when he tenses. “You don’t have to.”

“Um,” Buck mutters, pressing his lips together as he runs his hands through his curly hair. It’s in knots right now because after he showered he didn’t put anything in it. He’s been better recently at making sure to add product to his hair, but after everything that’s been happening, Buck has been neglecting self care. “A-A lot of things. Having to tell her what happened, then having to tell a bunch of other people, and— and the victim thing.”

Eddie hums in understanding, a frown on his face. “You’re not a victim,” he says, “what happened to you isn’t what makes you… you. You’re still Buck, you’ve always been Buck. You aren’t who you are because of what happened to you, you’re who you are in spite of everything that’s happened to you.” It seems he can’t help the bittersweet smile that comes over his face. “You— I have no idea how you’re standing right now, with everything you’ve been through— well, that’s not true, it’s because you’re Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley, and you’re the strongest person I know. You’re resilient and you’re kind. You inspire me.” When that makes Buck roll his eyes, Eddie pinches his leg lightly to catch his attention. “Eres un completo idiota. I’m not lying right now, mi cielo. I mean it. I’m proud of you and I think I could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Maybe, like, therapy?” Buck suggests, smirking over at Eddie. The brunet man only shrugs and Buck counts it as a win that he doesn't immediately fight against it this time. “¿Cómo me llamaste? Sky?”

Glancing down, Eddie lets out a scoff. “Pepa needs to stop teaching you Spanish,” he comments. “Cielo can mean sky or heaven.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. Eddie is calling him… his heaven? That’s—

“I plan on teaching Jaz, by the way,” Eddie says, “if she’s gonna be my Jasmine — like you’re Christopher’s Buck — she’s going to need to learn. Maybe when she’s older we won’t be able to gossip about you like we can now, but still.”

With a laugh, Buck kicks at Eddie with his bad leg, unable to do it very hard considering how much it hurts. “Cállate, imbécil.”

Eddie can only laugh.

“Oh, um,” Buck stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “Bobby is coming with me for the custody lawyer meeting, but I was hoping you would come with me for this one. With the prosecutor.” He bites at the inside of his cheek, focusing his anxiety there. “I understand if, like, it might be weird or maybe too hard to, uh, listen to that, but I don’t really want Bobby to—”

“Of course I’ll be there,” Eddie says easily. “No hay nada que no haría por ti.” Buck knows exactly what that means and from the way Eddie stares at him, that was the point.

Overwhelmed at the pure amount of honesty flooding Eddie’s eyes and tone, Buck looks over at the wall.

Chapter Text

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Buckley.” Vivian Ivy shakes Buck’s hand firmly, then moves to do the same to Eddie. “You too…?”

“Eddie Diaz.” The older man gives the woman a small smile sitting in a chair next to Buck across from the woman’s desk. “Good to meet you.”

“Sorry if this seems abrupt, but I’d like to get right into the case,” Vivian says, giving Buck a small smile when the man nods. “I know this is really difficult to process and some of the things I say may be hard to hear, but I want to prepare you as much as I can for what to expect when you’re on the stand. I won’t lie to you, it will not be easy. You’ll be asked some uncomfortable questions and the defence will try to paint you as the bad guy, as the one at fault. But, you’re not. You are the victim and I promise you, Mr. Buckley, I will be fighting to make sure she pays for her crimes.”

Swallowing thickly, Buck takes a moment, trying to settle his anxiety a little so his voice won’t crack when he speaks. He opens his mouth, then closes it when nothing comes out. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Buck’s eyebrows pinch together. The one thing that grounds him is Eddie reaching over to take his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Buck sucks in a breath, having forgotten he needs to do that. “Sorry, um, so you and her lawyer will ask me questions?”

“No need to apologize and yes we will,” Vivian answers, folding her hands together and resting them against her desk. “First I ask you questions, then the defence, then I go again, and after that you’re done.”

“How can they even pin this on Bu— Evan?” Eddie asks, forehead wrinkling as the skin around his mouth goes tight. “What she did was illegal and there’s DNA proof.”

With a sympathetic frown, Vivian nods. “I know, I’m sorry. In some of these cases, the defendant will just take a plea deal, but Clara Wells doesn’t want to lose her license, and if she’s found guilty Mr. Buckley will most definitely get custody over their child. So, she is trying to prove that…” She eyes Buck, clearly trying to be careful about what she says. He wishes she wouldn’t do that. “One of their arguments is going to be that Mr. Buckley consented.”

Eddie’s hand tightens in Buck’s, and the latter of the two men feels so nauseous he can’t speak. Thank goodness Eddie continues to speak for him. “He couldn’t consent,” he grits out, clearly trying not to project his anger onto the woman in front of them. “She was his therapist.”

“I know, but they’re challenging the DNA results,” Vivian says. “They were just sent to me last night and it came back that you are the biological parent of—” She looks at her notes, trying to find Jasmine’s name. “Hm, Cl—”

“Buck is going to be changing her name to Jasmine,” Eddie interrupts. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but—”

“Please, don’t apologize,” Vivian says, waving Eddie off. “This is an extremely difficult situation. I can’t imagine.” Her eyes flicker to Buck again who hasn’t stopped staring straight forward. He’s mostly relying on Eddie to remember everything important. “Jasmine is the biological child of Clara Wells and Evan Buckley. This proves that there was some sort of… sexual act. I don’t get to know exactly what their plan is, but I would guess one of two things — perhaps both. One, they’re going to claim Mr. Buckley and Ms. Wells met before or after the meeting and had relations. Now, this is still illegal, but if it didn’t happen in her office, they can try to argue that there was no power imbalance, therefore it wasn’t assault—”

“It did happen,” Buck says suddenly, shocking himself along with Eddie and Vivian whose eyes jump over to him. His voice is crackly, so he clears his throat. “It did happen in her office, during the appointment.”

Vivian frowns. “I know, Mr. Buckley, I believe you,” she says, pointing down at her desk firmly to try and drive that home. “I’m only saying what they might try and convince the jury. Again, this is to prepare you so you won’t be caught off guard in court.” She glances at Eddie. “We could take a break if—?”

“No, sorry, you can continue,” Buck replies, shaking his head as he gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze.

“Again, no apologies necessary.” Vivian pauses, looking at Buck for a long moment before she finally continues. “The second thing they may try to claim is that there couldn’t be a power imbalance because—” She cuts herself off, taking a breath as she tries to think of the right words. “This is completely ridiculous, but they could possibly try to claim that because Mr. Buckley is a man and a firefighter that he was the one with the power.” Quickly, Vivian starts to shake her head when that makes Buck inhale sharply. “That is least likely of the two, but I just want to mention it in case. They would not have a strong case with that and would most definitely not win.”

Eddie places his other hand over Buck’s so it's trapped between both of his hands now. “What about the first argument? Is that one strong?”

“Not really,” Vivian says, “because if it happened before, she should have immediately stopped the appointment and recommended he see someone else. And, if it were after, it is still considered assault. When you take someone on as a therapist, you are their therapist no matter the context. Their case is very weak. The thing they’re trying to prove is that there was consent or, at least, that we can’t prove there wasn’t. The reason why this claim is so weak is because we have records of the appointment, we have DNA evidence, we have records of Ms. Wells being fired after this appointment, and we have witnesses who heard her admit to the act. They have no records or anything to prove there was interaction before or afterhand.”

Wetting his lips, Buck takes in a shaky breath. “Uh, so, but— with the— are you sure her saying— what if she tries to say that I’m stronger than her, so I should have been able to—” He cuts himself off, head bowing as tears fill his eyes.

“Again, it’s a very weak argument because it’s still illegal.”

“But, what if I did consent?” Buck asks. “Like, what if I said okay and—? Will she get a smaller punishment if they say I consented? Because then it’s not, like, as bad? So-So— I… I can’t really… explain what I mean.”

“Are you trying to ask what would happen if she admits to committing a crime, knowing sleeping with clients is wrong, but claims you both consented to the sexual act?” Vivian asks, forehead wrinkling.

“What if they try to argue I c-consented during the session and that she shouldn’t lose her license or-or rights to Jasmine because I was never really considered a serious patient of hers?” Buck sucks in an unsteady breath. “Because I never went back to her, so-so she could— can she say she wasn’t in the wrong because I wasn't a client after that happened?”

Vivian watches as Buck hastily wipes his tears away, still not breathing very slow, and gives him a moment. “They can try to argue that, yes, but you didn’t consent to—”

“What if I did?” Buck repeats, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s as he shivers, feeling like termites are crawling over his skin, vomit hiding behind his tongue. He really would rather not throw up in this nice woman’s office.

“Mr. Buckley,” Vivian begins, leaning forward and keeping her eyes right on his. “You could not consent.” She clicks her pen open and closed a few times. “Here, maybe we should start to discuss a little of that day and what happened so I can better reassure you, is that alright?” Buck half shrugs, half nods, so she continues when he doesn’t say anything after. “If they tried to claim you consented, I would ask you; did Ms. Wells ask for your consent?”

Buck stares at the woman across from him. He knows where this is going, he knows she’s going to prove to him that it was assault and that it wasn’t his fault. But, he feels so much more comfortable blaming it on something he did. “No.”

“Did you at any point verbally consent?”

“No.” Eddie tenses next to Buck. It’s obvious it’s not just hard for Buck to be in this appointment right now and somehow that makes him feel a little better. (Little being the operative word.)

“Alright,” Vivian says slowly, eyes narrowing briefly like she’s trying to figure out what Buck is getting anxious about. “Alright, so, since there was no consent asked for or given, and therapists are not legally allowed to sleep with their clients; it was definitely sexual assault. So, she should be charged with sexual battery — and because it is such a general charge — it will be specified as sexual exploitation by a psychotherapist.”

Vivian and Eddie are looking at Buck again suddenly and he realizes it’s because he stood up. His chest is rising and falling quickly, not dangerously fast, but still not what you want. Tears are trailing down his cheeks and all he can do is shake his head. “No, I just—” He clenches his fists at his sides. “But— I—”

“How about we take a break?” Vivian suggests, eyebrows pinching. “Across the hall, there’s a quiet room you can sit in until you’re ready to come back. I don’t have another appointment until later tonight, so take as long as you need. And, if you want, you can always come back another day.”

Nodding, Eddie stands up with Buck. He reaches out to touch the man’s elbow, but pulls his hand back, and instead gestures at the door. He tucks his head down to make eye contact with Buck, whispering,  “Vamos, mi vida. Sentémonos un segundo.”

Buck hates how Eddie avoiding physical contact makes something in his chest unclench. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Buck lets Eddie hold both doors open for him, keeping his eyes on the floor the whole time.

The room is relatively small, there’s two couches facing one another with a coffee table in the middle, and a TV hanging on the wall. There’s also some bins in the corner filled with toys, so Buck assumes it’s a place for children to sit in.

Sitting on the couch, Buck keeps his eyes down even when Eddie sits across from him. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to gather himself. There’s something echoing in his mind, something he can’t get out, and he hates that it’s his own voice. A voice he recognizes but doesn’t feel familiar because it was fake and he was floating above himself when he said it.

I can't believe I just did that. I am so sorry.

Sorry? Why? You were fantastic.

That was beyond unprofessional. I'm your therapist.

Yeah, and I feel better.

Buck shivers, shutting his eyes, and covering his mouth. He really might throw up.

Sorry? Why? You were fantastic.

Sorry? Why? You were fantastic.

Sorry? Why? 

You were fantastic. You were fantastic. You were fantastic. You were fantastic. You were fantastic.

Yeah, and I feel better.

Yeah, and I feel better.

Yeah, and I feel better.

Yeah, and I feel better.

I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel better. I feel—

“Buck? Hey, Buck, shhh—” Eddie is in front of him now. When did he move? Why is he pushing back his hair? Why is he wiping his face? “I’m sorry, you threw up, I’m just trying to clean you up.” Oh, he said that out loud? “I— yes, Buck, you’re talking really fast right now, it’s not making any sense, and it’s making it hard for you to breathe, so I need you to just focus on that right now.”

Buck throws up again, much more aware of it this time as he leans forward to duck his head into the trash can Eddie has placed on the floor in front of him. Eddie reaches up to brush Buck’s hair back again and he whines, feeling completely out of control. He hates it. And, he hates when Eddie retracts his hand, clearly worrying that Buck is uncomfortable with him.

“Please,” Buck manages to get out between short gasps for air. He tries to reach out for Eddie’s hand, to bring the comfort back, but he can’t see through whatever it is making his vision blurry right now. (Oh, oh, he’s crying?) “Please, please, I—”

“Shhh, mi alma, solo respira,” Eddie hushes him, “can I touch you?” When Buck nods rapidly before having to pause when that makes his head swim. Eddie reaches out, one hand going back to his hair as the other cups Buck’s face. “Okay, alright, you need to try and breathe, mi amor. Inhala, exhala. Inhala… exhala. Sí. Good job. Keep doing that. Inhala… exhala.” His hand slips down from Buck’s face to his chest. “Keep your breathing slow. Don’t think about anything else but that, okay?”

Nodding absently, Buck continues to take in deep breaths. Honestly, he hardly processes what Eddie is telling him to do, but he trusts the man with his life, so he would agree no matter what. He shuts his eyes, fisting his hand in Eddie’s shirt to feel the other man’s breathing too. There’s a scratching sound on the floor and Buck thinks it might be Eddie moving the trash can away, but he can’t be sure.

The world sways, but Buck isn’t worried he’s going to fall. Eddie is there.

Eddie’s own forehead pressing against his is what stops him from face planting. “Okay, alright, Buck, you’re alright,” he whispers, the hand that was in Buck’s hair going to his back to trace circles. “Sigue respirando y vuelve cuando estés listo, mi cielo. I’m right here.”

Buck didn’t even realize he had gone a bit numb until he becomes all too aware of everything going on around him. First, comes the taste of vomit still on his tongue, then the sweat trailing down his temple that Eddie must be feeling, but doesn’t seem to care about. His left leg is getting a bit sore and his knuckles are aching where they’re hanging onto Eddie’s shirt like a lifeline.

Fluttering his eyes back open, Buck finds Eddie is still looking at him. Swallowing with a wince, Buck leans back, letting go of Eddie’s shirt. The older man uses this chance to take a seat next to him, arm wrapping around Buck’s shoulders.

Letting out a breath, Buck lets his head fall between Eddie’s shoulder and neck. Eddie smells like home and it makes his heart slow a touch. “I-I’m—” He squeezes his eyes shut, voice rough. “My mouth tastes gross.”

“There’s water bottles under the table,” Eddie says gently. From the way he shifts next to Buck, he’s already reaching for one. “I think I have some gum.”

Buck nods slowly, swallowing hard to try and get his voice to cooperate. He opens his eyes back up and sits straighter, still leaning against Eddie, but not burrowed in his neck anymore. Eddie unscrews the cap from off of the water bottle, handing it to Buck so he can drink some. As Buck gulps down a few mouthfuls over water, Eddie reaches into his pocket, rummaging around a bit before he pulls out some mint gum. He takes the water back from Buck, handing him the gum before screwing the lid back on.

Grabbing two pieces, Buck shoves them into his mouth, and quickly chews it, sighing as the taste fills his mouth now instead. Eddie’s hand comes back to rest on his back and he starts rubbing it up and down again. “Better?” Buck nods and Eddie pulls him closer. “Okay. Good. How are you feeling?”

“Gross, but not nauseous anymore,” Buck says, “I kind of feel better, actually. I felt like I had to throw up for a while so…”

Eddie hums. “Okay… do you want to… tell me what’s going on? It sort of seemed like… like there might be something you wanted to say but were nervous to say in front of Vivian? And just now… that looked like a flashback, Buck.”

“I…” Buck's voice crack’s, cutting him off. He hides his face in his hands, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Eddie doesn’t move his hand, doesn't try to interrupt, just sits next to him, being a constant presence of comfort. “That day after… after it— I don’t know what happened to me. It was like I wasn’t myself anymore. I was just… watching myself. When she first— first kissed me—” Eddie tenses, hand pausing only for a second before he keeps up his gentle caresses. “I was crying and I had just told her what happened with Devon, so I was still upset and-and— I don’t know. It shocked me. I wasn’t expecting it, it felt like whiplash. One second I’m telling her all about this, like, trauma that happened, and then she’s kissing me. So, sometime dur—” Buck sucks in a breath, flinching. He shuts his eyes again. “Sometime after that I just sort of started to float away in my mind. I didn’t agree or anything, but I didn’t fight against it, I just accepted it as something that was happening— which, I-I know what you’re going to say; it wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Eddie whispers, “what were you supposed to do? You were in shock, you were going through this major thing, and your brain was having a hard time keeping up with… everything. It wasn’t your responsibility to fight against it.”

Rubbing a hand down his face, Buck nods. “I know, but that’s not what—” He looks at Eddie now and it’s clear the man can see the anguish in his eyes. “I just needed to— I wanted to clarify that first… because I wasn’t— once it— I stopped crying eventually. But, um, anyways… after-after it was over, I said—” He covers his mouth again and Eddie seems to fight not to immediately jump into action.

“Are you gonna—?”

“No, I’m-I’m good,” Buck says, shaking his head. “I said something that… I keep worrying that it’ll be brought up and used against me. What if it helps her?”

Eddie places his hand on Buck’s shoulder, carefully pushing him back so he’s sitting up straight, and they can make eye contact. “Buck, I— can I ask what you said? I don’t know how to help if I don’t know.”

“I said that—” Buck forces himself to keep looking at Eddie because somehow looking away from him feels worse. Not knowing how he’ll react feels so much worse. “She, like, apologized. And, I— I said she didn’t have to-to ‘cause she was… because she was great.” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in the middle slightly, but it’s not a disgusted or judgemental grimace. It’s a frown full of empathy, eyes flashing with understanding and love. “And, then, she said that it was wrong because she’s my therapist and I—” Buck scoffs, almost like he’s trying to laugh, but there are tears in his eyes, so it doesn’t quite make it past a puff of air. There is no humour to be found in this situation. The only thing light to come out of it is Jasmine. “I said that I felt better.”

“Mi amor, that— that won’t change anything,” Eddie says, “that doesn’t make her any less guilty. You were trying to protect yourself, your emotions. When people are in a— people do and say anything to protect themselves. You were deflecting. It won’t help her. They might… you’re going to have to ask Vivian about it, but they might try and use it against you. It won’t work though. Just like Vivian said, even if you did consent verbally, it doesn’t matter because you can’t consent to it legally. There’s a power imbalance. What she did wasn’t your fault and how you reacted wasn’t your fault. This is all on her.” He holds his hand out. “We should go tell her about that so she knows though, okay?”

Buck places his hand in Eddie’s. “Okay.” He trusts Eddie more than anyone. So, he’ll trust him on this.

Chapter Text

Right after the appointment with Buck’s lawyer, Athena calls him to let him know that the judge would review his case. Eddie wasn’t there when Buck and Bobby met with the custody lawyer, but from what he knows, it went well. He really wishes Buck would have let him come, but he understands why he wanted Bobby.

An hour passes by and then Buck is being called to court so he can get temporary custody of Jasmine until the criminal case is finished and he can petition for full custody. It’s made Eddie’s heart hurt, having to watch Buck struggle like this, but he’s glad Jasmine will finally be coming home. Buck and Eddie’s home. (Buck has only been living there a month and somehow Eddie can’t picture a time without him there anymore.)

They cleared out the guest room and Buck has been sleeping in there for the last couple days and now Eddie hates himself because he resents Jasmine a little bit for making Buck change rooms. He slept so much better when Buck was by his side. With Buck to his right, he could feel his pulse, watch his breathing, remind himself he’s still here. Eddie could help soothe him after a nightmare. (And, Buck could do the same with him.) Now, he’s worried Buck will stop reaching out, but Eddie would rather be woken up every day for the rest of his life if it meant he could take care of the other man.

Mostly, though, he loves Jasmine more than life itself and is unbelievably happy they get to keep her. (Or, Buck gets to. Eddie keeps forgetting that part, Jasmine isn’t his. Oh, but how he wants and dreams.)

The hearing is over within fifteen minutes — Eddie has to wait in the hall — and when Buck comes out, there are tears in his eyes, and a grin across his face.

Eddie holds him for at least five minutes. Somewhere in between cries, Buck is able to tell him he won.

By the time they get back home, Hen and Karen are already there with Jasmine packed, and ready to move in. “Look who it is,” Hen says quietly to Jasmine who’s already reaching out towards Buck and Eddie. (Maybe it’s just Buck. He isn’t sure.) “It’s your Dada, Jaz.”

“Hi, baby,” Buck whispers, tears running down his face as he pulls Jasmine into his arms. The little girl babbles, sinking right against Buck like they’re two puzzle pieces. “I love you so, so, so much, you know that? I’m never going to let you go.” He looks up at Hen and Karen. “I-I— I can’t thank you guys enough, I—”

“It was the least we could do, hon,” Karen says, smiling softly. “I’m just glad she’s with who she belongs now.” She links her arm through Hen’s. “We’ll let you guys settle in, call if you need anything at all.”

After they say their goodbyes, Hen and Karen leave the boys to bond with Jasmine. Eddie can tell Buck is having a hard time believing this is really happening and honestly he feels the same way. It feels like just yesterday he found Buck, wide eyed with a scratched up face, soaking wet with a little baby in his arms, wrapped in his shirt. Eddie felt like clawing his own eyes out when he had to drag the two of them apart, but that guilt is starting to fade as he watches Buck sit down with a sleepy Jasmine in his arms.

“It’s probably time for her nap,” Buck says, leaning forward and kissing her forehead, his hand rubbing up and down Jasmine’s back. Eddie can’t help but think Buck’s a professional as he watches the younger man start to rock his child, almost subconsciously, and her eyes start to droop even further. It shouldn’t be surprising, he’s been a father to Christopher since he first met him. “I just don’t want to let her go.”

Eddie smiles softly, walking over to stand above Buck. “I know, mi amor.” He’s not sure when he started calling Buck that, but the other man hasn’t commented so unless he asks him to stop, he’s going to keep doing it. “But, you have a lifetime to do that… we also have a baby monitor, so you could watch her if you wanted.” Before he has the chance to second guess himself, he reaches out to brush a hand through Buck’s hair. (Eddie can’t help himself. He loves Buck, even if he’ll never deserve him enough to call him his.) “Karen told me she was having a hard time getting to sleep for her nap when we called. I guess she was waiting until she was back with you.”

“That’s mean, you’re just trying to make me cry now,” Buck says with a laugh, a twinkle to his bright blue eyes when he looks up at Eddie. (He’s joking, of course. They both know Eddie would rather die before he’s the cause of Buck’s tears. Eddie hopes Buck knows that too.) “I guess you’re right though.”

“Usually am,” Eddie replies, smiling at Jasmine when Buck stands up. “Lo aprenderás muy pronto, mi princesa.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Buck nods for Eddie to follow him. “I get it, it’s going to be you two against me. At least I have Christopher to back me up.”

Eddie holds the door open for Buck, then quietly pads inside behind him, watching fondly as the man brings Jasmine over to the changing table. Just like with his clipboards and checklists, Buck is overly thorough while checking over Jasmine to make sure she’ll be comfortable for her nap. All Eddie can do is watch him with what he’s sure is a dopey look on his face as Buck mumbles to himself. “She ate two hours ago, so when she wakes up I’ll have to feed her again… diaper's clean… comfy onesie… room is a good temperature…” He picks Jasmine back up, tutting when she whines a little. “I know, you’re ready for bed.” Buck kisses her cheek before placing her on her back in the crib he and Eddie put together a couple days ago. “On her back… no blankets or toys… baby monitor is on… okay, goodnight, Jasmine. I love you.”

Slowly, Buck inches back until he walks past Eddie in the doorframe. The older man reaches for the handle and shuts the door quietly behind them both. Eddie has a big smile on his face, but when he turns and sees tears rolling down Buck’s face, it quickly morphs into a frown. “Hey, hey, hey, Buck, what’s going on?” he asks, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him towards the dining room. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just so happy she’s here,” Buck says, wiping at his face as the two of them take a seat in the kitchen. “I knew I would be able to get temporary custody, but I just… at the same time it felt impossible.”

Nodding, Eddie envelopes one of Buck’s hands in both of his own. “That makes sense,” he assures him before he gets the chance to doubt himself. “This is such a complicated and hard situation.” He runs both thumbs over Buck’s knuckles, coming apart, and then meeting back in the middle. “Do you have a therapy appointment soon?”

“Yeah, uh, on the weekend,” Buck says, “I also have a doctor’s appointment for my leg that day.”

“You going to ask about the pain?” Eddie asks, eyebrows meeting in the middle. He really doesn’t mind massaging Buck’s leg for him, but at times nothing they do helps. With Christopher, he’s almost always been able to get rid of the pain, especially after they started his physical therapy. But even with Buck doing his own PT, the pain is constant.

“I will, but,” — Buck shrugs — “it might just be something I have to learn to live with. I’m lucky I even still have my leg.”

Swallowing thickly, Eddie has to hold back the anger he feels at that. He knows Buck is right, but it doesn’t make it easier. He hates that stupid kid that decided to take his anger on Bobby out on innocent people. “Yeah,” Eddie agrees finally, considering his words carefully. “But, there are medications they could prescribe, things the doctor could recommend.”

Buck nods, biting the inside of his cheek the way he does when he has something to say, but he’s worried about the other person’s reaction. Eddie hates that he’s ever given Buck a reason to fear what his reaction could be, but he knows he’s forced a lot of the people in his life to walk on eggshells around him. Especially recently.

“Um, I’m going to see a department therapist,” Eddie says, trying to hide how anxious he is about it. From Buck’s reaction, it’s clear that’s what he wanted to ask about. They had talked about it again after he was arrested, but it was a tense conversation considering everything that happened. “Bobby helped me find a good one, so I have an appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow, that’s fast,” Buck comments, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Are you nervous? Do you need… someone to come with you?”

“Nah, I think I’m okay,” Eddie replies, smiling kindly at Buck’s offer. “Thank you, though.” He lets go of Buck’s hand before he does something insane like kiss it. “If you need anything, though, please text me. I know there’s lots of people you can reach out to, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t when it’s your first day with Jasmine.”

Smiling softly, Buck leans back in his chair. “Thanks, Eds.”

And, like he always does when Buck thanks him, Eddie replies, “Anything for you, Buck.” He looks away, scared he’s revealed too much of himself. “You’re my best friend.”

~

It’s hard for Eddie to sleep that night. Not because he gets nightmares or is particularly stressed out, but he can’t get the fact that Buck and Jasmine are just down the hall out of his mind. He knows Buck will be okay, he’s already such an amazing dad, but he also knows how stressful it is to be on your own with a child for the first time. Obviously Buck has babysat lots of kids before, but it’s different like this.

For a long time, Eddie stares at his ceiling, debating whether or not he should give in and go check on them. He has no idea how much time he spends like that, but it’s at least an hour of sitting up, then laying back down, then sitting back up. Eventually, he groans in frustration and forces himself out of bed.

It’s not like it’ll hurt to just listen at the door to see if Buck needs any help or something.

Creeping up to Buck and Jasmine’s room, Eddie tilts his head to one side, trying to listen for any sounds or signs of distress. His eyebrows furrow as he picks up on mumbling, but can’t quite make out who it’s coming from or what it means.

The moment he thinks he’s close to figuring it out, the door flies open.

If it were a respectable time, Eddie would have an excuse halfway out his mouth right now. However, considering the sun will be rising in about three hours, all he does is stare at Buck who has Jasmine tucked in his arms. Using his brown eyes to trail over the duo, a slow frown takes over his face. Jasmine has tear streaks staining her cheeks, quiet sniffles coming from her nose, and a big red spot on her forehead. Buck’s eyes are red rimmed, his skin is far too pale, and his hair is sticking up every which way. Clearly, they’re both having a difficult first night.

“What’s going on, Buck?” Eddie whispers, nudging Buck back into his room, and shutting the door behind them to prevent Christopher from waking up. “Is Jaz okay?”

“I don’t know,” Buck says brokenly, the pure amount of anguish in those blue eyes Eddie loves makes him want to pull the younger man into his arms, and never let go. “I-I— she keeps crying and she keeps—” He closes his eyes, shaking his head like it hurts to think about. “I think she’s frustrated she can’t calm down, so she keeps hitting her head against the side of her crib.” Eddie doesn’t interrupt Buck, just hums what he hopes is a soothing sound as he leads him to sit down on his bed. As if unaware of anything else going around him, Buck settles onto the edge of his mattress without a complaint, reaching down and gently tracing his thumb over the red mark on her face. “I— I don’t think she broke skin, but— why is she hurting herself?”

Frowning, Eddie sits right beside Buck so their arms are pressing together as he takes a look at Jasmine for himself. Buck is right, there’s no broken skin. “Well, they did say it seemed like Jaz spent a lot of time in day care instead of with her m— with Wells,” Eddie says gently. “She might not know how to self-soothe. People always say you leave them alone and they figure out. It’s kind of true, but babies also need you to show them how to calm themselves down.” He puts an arm around Buck’s shoulders, the corners of his mouth moving further down when Buck leans into the touch like a man starved. “It might just take some extra comfort from you for her to calm down for a while.”

“It’s like when—” Buck cuts himself off, rocking Jasmine in his arms. “I-I don’t want her to hurt herself.”

“Of course not,” Eddie says, rubbing a back along Buck’s spine. “That’s why you’re holding her and if she tries to do it again, you’ll just pick her back up.”

Sniffling, Buck shakes his head a little. “No, I know. It’s just—” He leans down, pressing a kiss to Jasmine’s head right over the red spot. “I don’t want her to be like me.”

“Buck, I—” Honestly, Eddie feels a little lost. “Amor, what do you mean?”

“The only way I knew how to get my parents attention was by hurting myself.” Eddie freezes up. “Not, uh, not like— I mean, I would purposefully do risky things that would land me in the hospital.”

Swallowing thickly, Eddie pushes down the urge to go track down the Buckley parents, tell them how amazing their son is, and that he was too good for them. (And, maybe do some illegal things that the police, Buck, and his new therapist — probably — wouldn’t agree with.)

“She’s not even one yet,” Eddie whispers, “by the time she gets older, she won’t remember this feeling. You will, unfortunately, always remember this moment, but all Jaz will know is love.”

Brushing his fingers through Buck’s unruly curls, Eddie tries to smooth out all the knots and mess. Usually, he would try to hold back the compulsion to touch the soft dirty blond tufts, but with Buck so close, he finds he can’t. Especially not when he’s hurting like this, not when Buck leans into the touch with a relieved breath. Eddie wonders when the last time someone treated and touched Buck like something precious that deserves to be treasured and adored was before he moved into the house. And, he worries Buck never really has been treated like that in his whole life. It makes more futile and illogical anger become armed in his gut. Too many times he’s allowed these feelings to detonate, careless of who might be clipped by the fragments of heated words and distorted opinions. This time, he’s mindful of the innocent bystanders. It isn’t Buck’s fault he was treated poorly and doesn’t know how to accept love and it isn’t Jasmine’s fault she doesn’t know how to handle her intense feelings.

(Eddie wonders if in his first therapy appointment he should mention this moment to impress Frank, but it might sound weird if he says, “hey so, I know I said I wanted to work on my anger, but I promise I don’t really have rage problems, I managed to hold back from yelling at people for things that aren’t their fault.” Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over well.)

“And, I hope…” Eddie lets out a shaky breath, squeezing Buck tighter, like he might be able to guard him from all self-depricating thoughts that threaten to hurt his best friend. “I hope you feel loved now too, because you are. The 118, Maddie, Christopher, me, we all love you so much. Your parents may not have given you the attention or love you needed, but you have all of us now. You have Bobby and Athena who love you like you’re their own.” He smiles a little when he sees Jasmine’s eyes flutter shut. “We’re all here to help and support you any way you need.”

Buck sucks in a breath, still wobbly, but a little slower than the last. “Thank you,” he whispers. Gently, he presses his elbow into Eddie’s ribs. “I’m going to put her in her crib.”

Without a word, Eddie lets Buck slip out of his arms, watching as the man brings the eleven month old baby to her bed. He really wishes Buck could see himself the way Eddie does, how incredible he already is with Jasmine. Almost in slow motion, he leans Jasmine down onto her mattress, carefully extracting his arms away.

After staring down at her for a moment, Buck takes a step back, confident she isn’t about to wake up again.

Buck creeps back over to his bed, sitting so he’s facing Eddie. “Um, are you okay?” He quickly wipes at his tears and Eddie feels a little like laughing at how ironic his question is. Only Buck would ask if someone else was okay while actively crying. “I sort of forgot I didn’t go wake you up.”

“I wanted to check on you,” Eddie admits, shrugging a shoulder. “I knew you could handle it, I just… I don’t know. I had this feeling.”

“Guess you have a Buck Sense.” Eddie wrinkles his nose, absolutely confused. The bright side of his confusion, however, is the way Buck lets out a quiet chuckle. “You know, like a Spidey Sense? But, instead of sensing danger, you sense when I need your help.”

“Ah, okay, so far superior to a Spidey Sense,” Eddie states, grinning when that makes Buck roll his eyes as a blush crawls up his neck. “That will actually be really helpful on calls. Before you do something, the hair on the back of my neck will stand up, and I’ll be like—” He raises a hand to his neck, exaggerating an intense frown. “—Buck is about to do something stupid.” He grins. “We should probably figure out a system for this, maybe I can radio when I sense it, and whoever is closest to you can, like, tackle you to the ground or—”

“I’ve never heard you talk this much,” Buck interrupts, narrowing his eyes. “And, I have to admit, it’s not as great as I thought it might be. Turns out you’re nicer when you speak in short, cryptic sentences.”

Covering his mouth so he won’t laugh too hard, Eddie shakes his head. “Alright, I’ll try to go back to that. I just got excited at the prospect of a Buck Sense.” He reaches out to tap his knuckles against Buck’s ribs. The younger man catches his hand and instinctively Eddie laces their fingers together. It doesn’t feel weird or awkward, it feels like safety and home. Familiar despite it being uncharted territory. Eddie has never understood his feelings for Buck. They’re best friends and he knows that, but at the same time he never felt this way about his best friend from middle school. Even with Shannon, it never felt this way. It sounds horrible because he loved Shannon, he truly did, but sometimes he thinks it was just friendship. “That way I wouldn’t have to be constantly worrying about you while we’re working.”

Tilting his head, Buck leans forward with a smirk, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, sure, that would make you stop worrying.” He squeezes Eddie’s hand. “You’re just a worrywart about anything and everything.”

“Not about anything,” Eddie says — and he’s just dropping his voice low because there’s a sleeping baby in the room, not because he’s scared of his own confession — “but, yes, about my everything.”

“Your everything?” Buck whispers, eyebrows pulling up in the middle in a desperate sort of way that makes him look like a puppy begging for food. His eyes ask, Is it me? Am I part of your everything?

The beat of Eddie’s heart answers firmly— yes, yes, yes, yes.

His voice, however—

“Yeah, you know,” Eddie begins, averting his eyes briefly, trying to come off casual, “Christopher, you… Jasmine now too. You guys are… everything. You’re everything that I could never live without.” He shrugs. (Shrugging makes it casual, right?) “Without you guys, I don’t know how I could live.” To distract himself, he starts tracing his thumb across each ridge in Buck’s palm, ignoring the weight of the other man’s gaze he can feel burning into his head. “Before I came here… my main focus was Christopher. He still is, but I realized that there’s room for more too. I told you before I never really had a best friend and honestly I never thought I would. I didn’t think I got to have my… my person. You know? We’re different people, obviously, but I’m glad you’re in my life because I don’t think I would still be alive right now. And, after the tsunami— you saved Christopher’s life. As long as I live, I’ll never be able to tell you enough just how much it means to me.” Chuckling softly, Eddie rolls his eyes. “Here I go, talking too much again.”

When he finally looks back up at Buck, his heart slams against his rib cage when he sees tears falling down his face again. Before he gets the chance to ask what’s wrong, Buck is speaking. “Well… um… it’s okay because this time you’re not bugging me.” Eddie snorts and that makes Buck smile, even through his heavy emotions. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever had someone— Thank you for making me your everything. Or, um, a part of it, at least. No one’s ever— yeah. Thank you.”

“You made yourself a part of my everything,” Eddie corrects, reaching out to brush away a tear from Buck’s cheek, keeping it there when it feels like that’s where it was always meant to be. As though the palm of his hand was made to be pressed against the curve of Buck’s jaw. His other hand is still linked with Buck’s and he thinks their fingers might be sewn together because he can’t pull away. (Can’t? Doesn’t want to? Whatever. Same difference.) “And you don’t have to thank me, it’s easy.”

Scoffing, Buck gives Eddie a look, aiming for something playful, but it ends up landing more crestfallen when more tears escape. “Easy? We’re, uh, we’re talking about me here, right?” Again, the teasing tone he attempts doesn’t quite hit right when his voice cracks at the end.

“Yes, Evan, loving you is easy,” Eddie says, “and anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know a single thing about you.” (It would just be— it would be so easy to lean in and just— but, no. No, Eddie. No. Not the right time.) He drops his hand down, clearing his throat. “Um, so, do you want me to stay in here tonight? In case she wakes up again?”

Sniffling, Buck reaches up his free hand to wipe at his nose. “Uh, it’s okay. I think I got it covered, I’ve watched babies before.”

“I meant more so for you.” Eddie half smiles. “I mean, I can help with Jaz too. But, I just thought you might want someone to stay with you the first night.” (And, every night after that, of course. Hey, bro, you wanna get married—? Eddie! Really?) “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Buck purses his lips to the side, like he’s thinking it over, but from the way his eyes flutter, Eddie can tell he’s convinced him. “Yeah, uh, okay. Thanks.”

“Anything, Buck,” Eddie says, a habit at this point. “Anything.”

If Eddie Diaz had to be pathetically in love with someone, he supposes being pathetically in love with Evan Buckley wasn’t such a bad deal. Even if that’s all it’ll be for the rest of his life. He’d choose a life with Buck but without his love, over a life without him at all any day. There isn’t anyone like Buck in the world, no one quite as pure or sweet. So, even if he has to watch someone else get to love Buck, to hold him, to cherish him, to have him as a friend and a lover — it’ll be worth it. It’ll tear him inside out, it’ll rip his heart to shreds, and every day will be torture. But, it’ll be worth it. At least, he’ll get to see Buck being loved the way he deserves. Buck’s happiness is worth it. Even if it comes at the cost of Eddie’s own.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Buck awakes to an empty bed. The night before, Eddie was really helpful. A few times Jasmine woke up and if Buck ever got overwhelmed, Eddie was there to assure him everything would be okay.

Buck got overwhelmed by all the nice things Eddie was saying, so much so he actually convinced himself they might kiss. However, when it felt like they were getting close, Eddie just pulled away with a smile. He doesn’t mind, he’d let Eddie talk to him like that forever, even if it built up his hopes only to have them torn down over and over again.

Sitting up in bed, Buck scrubs at his eyes before he stands up, and heads over to Jasmine’s crib. The sight of it empty briefly gives him a heart attack, but the clanging from the kitchen quickly reminds him he doesn’t live alone. He just expected Eddie to wake him up in the morning.

As he walks out into the hall, a strange smell fills his nostrils. Buck thinks it might be pancakes and then wonders briefly why that’s strange, his sleepy brain moving slow.

Oh, right. Eddie sucks at cooking.

When he walks into the kitchen, everything clicks into place. Bobby is standing by the stove, flipping a pancake as Athena sits at the table, bouncing Jasmine in her arms. The baby giggles softly, her wide blue eyes blinking at her grandmother happily as she reaches out to tug at Athena’s short hair.

“Oh, babygirl, you’re the sweetest,” Athena coos, “do you know that?”

“I think she knows.” Buck smiles at Bobby and Athena as they turn to look at him before he enters further into the room. Taking a seat beside Athena, he reaches out to take one of Jasmine’s small hands between his fingertips, eyebrows pulling together in awe at just how tiny she is. He wishes she could be this small forever. “I didn’t know you two would be here.”

Athena smiles. “Well, we couldn’t wait to see our granddaughter,” she says, “and Eddie said he would be out of the house. We thought company would be nice. Don’t get me wrong, I loved maternity leave, but it can get pretty boring. Or overwhelming. Or a strange mix of both.” She shrugs with a laugh. “Anyway, it can be nice not to be alone.”

“And, I know you love pancakes,” Bobby comments, “so I hope that’s okay for breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, pausing for a second so he can yawn. “Sorry. It was… a long first night. She woke up a few times.”

“Hm,” Athena hums. “Just an unfamiliar place. She’ll settle in soon enough.”

Reaching his arms out, Buck blinks rapidly as something dawns on him. “Uh, can I?” Without a word, Athena passes Jasmine to him. Gently, he settles her down so she’s leaning against his chest, tilting her head up so he can look. The red mark that was on Jasmine’s temple the night before is gone now and Buck lets out a relieved sigh. Before he looks back up, he feels Bobby and Athena’s questioning stares. “She, uh, kept hitting her head against the wall of her crib. When she got upset. It, um… Eddie said it looks like she can’t self regulate.”

Athena places a hand on the back of Buck’s neck, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “She’ll learn, baby. Jaz just needs some time to get used to all this.”

Nodding, Buck leans down to kiss Jasmine’s head, pausing like that for a moment to try, and calm himself down. Jasmine is safe now. “When did she wake up?” he asks.

“About two hours ago,” Athena replies, “we thought you could use some extra rest. Well, Eddie did, he said it was a long night for you.”

Buck stands up, placing Jasmine carefully into her high chair after dragging it over so it’s resting between him and Athena. He walks over to the fridge, pulling out an apple sauce pouch for Jasmine if she’s hungry, and then some cream for his coffee. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee?” he asks as he turns on the kettle. “We only have instant, none of that fancy stuff from your house.”

With a laugh, Bobby reaches out to pat Buck on the back. “I’m sure we’ll manage without fancy coffee,” he says, glancing back at Athena who nods before giving the man a pointed look.

Buck looks away, feeling as though he’s intruding on a silent conversation. He walks over to Jasmine, opening up the apple pouch and handing it to her with a smile. She giggles happily, immediately starting to eat it, and Buck brushes her hair back before placing the coffee cream on the kitchen table. When he’s back at the kettle, Bobby is facing him instead of the stove. “I got your message from a couple days ago,” he says and Buck freezes up. Right, the message he had sent after thinking over Dr. Copeland’s advice some more. It felt awkward, telling Bobby how he felt like he couldn’t trust him with his career, but it was also important. As much as he hates it when Dr. Copeland’s right, she was right about this. If he wants to be able to come back to the 118, he has to be able to fully trust Bobby. “Sorry I didn’t send a very long message back, but I thought it might be easier to talk in person. If that’s okay with you.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Buck looks away as he pulls three mugs from the cabinet. (A tiger mug Christopher had pointed out at the zoo, a #1 Dad mug Maddie had bought him a couple days ago, and a mug with the bisexual flag Bobby had gifted him during last pride month.) “Uh, yeah, sure.” He shrugs, grabbing the tin of instant coffee as well. “But, really, you don’t have to. I know you mean it when you say you’re going to work on it.”

“Yes, but I want to add,” Bobby begins, “that your trust means so much to me.” He reaches out, placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder to grasp his attention. “Even though you said you trust me in other aspects of life, I also know that it doesn’t exactly help feeling like you can’t trust me in others. There are two things I never want to make you feel; unloved or distrustful of me. You are one of the most important people in the world to me and not just because you’re my son.” Buck’s heart flutters the way it always does when Bobby or Athena say that. “You’ve saved my life on more than one occasion, if I had never met you, I wouldn’t be standing here today. So, yes, I will do everything I can to work at getting your trust back, even if I have to do it for the rest of my life.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck puts down the spoon he had taken to scoop out the coffee powder with, and wraps his arms around Bobby. The man is quick to return the hug, letting Buck burrow into him the way he always does, and for a moment they can pretend that it was Bobby who raised him, not anyone else. Bobby rubs a hand over Buck’s hair, squeezing the back of the man’s neck briefly before they pull away.

“Thank you, Bobby,” Buck whispers, turning away as he sniffles — it’s hard not to cry, but he works hard to force himself not to — and he picks the spoon back up. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“I appreciate you for having the courage to say something in the first place,” Bobby replies, shuffling back a little towards the stove. “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Picking up the jug of boiling water, Buck fills up each cup, and carries them over as Bobby places a plate with a stack of pancakes on it to the table. They all settle down, serving themselves pancakes, and adding what they like into their coffees. Between Buck and Athena in her high chair, Jasmine is smacking one hand against the tray as the other holds her pouch, clearly excited to be eating. It makes Buck laugh and he can’t help but lean over to press a kiss on her cheek. This makes Jasmine squeal in this soft, innocent giggle that lights up her face, looking over at Buck like he’s the sun, babbling nonsense. Buck briefly pretends to understand what she’s saying when it clearly makes her even happier before he lets her continue to entertain herself so he can eat.

Athena takes a bite of her pancakes, a soft look on her face as she watches Buck with his daughter. Honestly Buck wishes this is what all his mornings could look like. It would be even better with Eddie and Christopher. Which reminds him; where’s his favourite kid ever? (Okay, him and Jasmine are tied.)

“Where’s Chris?” Buck asks, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s almost ten, he’s usually up by now.”

“He actually woke up around eight and got sick,” Bobby says with a frown. “It was right before Eddie left. I went in earlier to offer him food, but he wasn’t feeling well. I figured after you ate you could try and coax him out of his bed. Or at least convince him to have some soup.”

Nodding, Buck feels his lips turn down as he briefly glances back over at Christopher’s closed door. If the smell of pancakes in the kitchen didn’t wake him, he must feel pretty sick. Buck worries that with all the excitement with Jasmine, they forgot about Chris a little. The nine year old kid didn’t even get to see his sister as she was already in bed by the time he was home from his playdate. Buck makes a mental note to plan their day at the beach for soon. They promised Christopher a couple weeks ago that they would go, but everything’s been so busy. While Christopher’s nightmares have lessened now that he feels he has Buck to talk to about them, he’s still not completely better. Buck just wishes Chris would talk to Eddie about it, but he insists that his father will get too sad.

“Stop thinking so much.” Athena smiles gently when Buck turns back to look at her. “Everything will be okay. Life is busy with kids, especially more than one, but you can do this.” She nudges his hand with her own, a knowing twinkle to her eyes. “You have Eddie and he has you, you’ll be okay.”

Ignoring the way that implication makes his stomach tingle warmly, Buck starts to dig into his pancakes.

Athena’s probably right. (She always is.)