Chapter Text
Eddie’s POV
Eddie had always prided himself on being steady. Solid. Dependable. The one people leaned on, not the one who struggled. It was what made him good at his job, what made him a good father, and he hoped a good partner. If anyone asked him who he was at his core, he’d probably say: a protector.
So when the first twinge of joint pain settled into his legs on a quiet Tuesday morning, he barely gave it a thought. Just age, he told himself. Too many years of pounding pavement, running toward fire, hauling hose. He wasn’t twenty anymore. He was a man who carried weight literal and figurative.
It was fine. It had to be fine.
The ache became harder to ignore as the weeks wore on. Soon, the stiffness in his fingers made it awkward to lace up his boots. He shook his hands out, flexing and muttering under his breath like he could will the soreness away. A couple of ibuprofen later, he was out the door, uniform straight, ready to face another shift at the 118.
At the station, he kept his head down. No one needed to know that climbing into the engine felt like he had run a marathon, or that his shoulder burned when he hauled the hose. Nobody needed to notice how many times he ducked into the locker room to splash cold water on his face when waves of fatigue made him feel like he’d been awake for three days straight.
He was Eddie Diaz. He did not show weakness.
At home, it was harder to hide.
“Dad, you’re tired again,” Christopher observed one evening when Eddie sank onto the couch with a sigh heavier than he meant it to be.
“I’m fine, mijo.” He forced a smile, tucking the blanket over Christopher’s lap and reaching for the remote. “Just a long day. Nothing I can’t handle.”
And Chris, sharp eyed like always, gave him a look that said he wasn’t convinced. But he didn’t press. Instead, he leaned against Eddie’s side, and Eddie wrapped an arm around him, pretending the warmth in his chest wasn’t laced with guilt.
Because Eddie was supposed to be the strong one. He wasn’t supposed to be the father who fell asleep in the middle of movie night or who forgot to check the science project instructions until the last minute because his brain felt like it was full of fog.
He wasn’t supposed to be the partner who dragged himself to bed with a fever he didn’t mention because he didn’t want Buck to worry.
And Buck did worry. That was just who he was, heart wide open, love written all over him like a language Eddie hadn’t known how to read at first.
They’d been together for six months now, and every day Eddie still caught himself looking at Buck and wondering how he’d gotten this lucky. How Buck would look at him like he hung the moon. It was perfect.
Which was why Eddie swallowed every groan, every wince, every little flicker of pain that might tip Buck off. Because Buck had a way of noticing. He noticed when Eddie’s smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes, when Eddie stood just a little slower than he used to.
But Eddie brushed it off. Everytime.
‘Just a long shift’
‘Didn’t sleep well’
‘Must be getting old’
He laughed when he said the last one, like it was a joke, and Buck usually let it slide. But sometimes Eddie caught him staring, blue eyes narrowed, worry between his brows.
Eddie hated that look. He hated the idea that Buck might start seeing him as fragile. That anyone might.
Saturday morning should have been easy. A rare day off. Chris was at a sleepover, and Eddie woke to Buck spread across his bed like he owned it which, in a way, he did now.
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, casting golden lines across bare skin, and Eddie thought for a moment that maybe this was what peace looked like.
Until he tried to get out of bed.
His body screamed when his feet hit the floor, and his hands were stiff enough that he almost dropped his phone. A wave of exhaustion rolled through him so strong he had to sit back down.
Buck stirred, blinking awake, messy haired and beautiful. “You okay?”
Eddie forced himself upright again, stretching out a yawn to cover the grimace. “Yeah. Just stiff. Guess we overdid it yesterday at the gym.”
Buck’s mouth curved into a lazy grin. “Pretty sure I’m the one who overdid it. You kicked my ass on the treadmill.”
Eddie smiled, but it felt like a lie. He hadn’t been faster yesterday. He’d been slower. He’d noticed. He was pretty sure Buck had noticed too, but maybe he’d been kind enough not to say it.
He went into the bathroom before Buck could ask more questions, gripping the sink until the dizziness passed. He stared at himself in the mirror pale, with shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there six months ago.
He splashed water on his face and whispered, “Get it together.”
At the firehouse, it was more of the same. The 118 was family, and family noticed things.
“Everything good, Diaz?” Chim asked during a lull between calls, raising a brow at the way Eddie massaged his shoulder.
“Yeah. Just sore.” Eddie kept his tone casual. “Guess Buck’s right, I’m not twenty anymore.”
Hen shot him a look that said she didn’t buy it, but she didn’t push. Bobby, though Bobby watched him longer than anyone else, like he was filing Eddie’s behavior away for later.
Eddie hated it. Hated feeling like he was under a microscope. Hated that he couldn’t just will himself back to normal.
So he pushed harder. Took extra calls. Carried more than his share. Tried to remind himself and everyone else that he was still Eddie Diaz, dependable as always.
But sometimes, when he was alone, he wondered if he was lying to himself.
That night, Buck suggested camping the next weekend. “Chris has been wanting to go. We could make it a thing?”
The idea should have made Eddie smile. Family. Nature. The kind of simple, wholesome happiness he wanted for all of them.
Instead, his chest tightened. All he could picture was his legs giving out halfway up the trail. Chris looking at him with confusion. Buck reaching for him with worry. Chris’s legs needed a break and asking for a back ride, which he would never deny, but…
He forced a nod. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Buck kissed him, soft and sweet, and Eddie let himself sink into it, let himself believe for a moment that everything was fine.
But when he pulled away, Buck studied him with that same furrowed brow. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed… off lately.”
“I’m fine, Buck.” Eddie’s voice was steady, practiced. “Just tired. You know how it is.”
Buck hesitated, then nodded, but Eddie could tell he wasn’t convinced.
Later that night, when the house was quiet and Buck was asleep beside him, Eddie lay awake staring at the ceiling. His body ached, his joints throbbed, and he could feel the low-grade fever simmering under his skin.
He thought about how happy Buck looked when they talked about the future marriage, maybe another kid, the life they’d build together. Eddie wanted all of that too. God, he wanted it more than he could say.
But what if he couldn’t give it? What if his body betrayed him?
The thought sat with him in the dark. He clenched his fists, ignoring the stiffness, and told himself it was nothing. Just fatigue. Just stress. He’d be fine.
He had to be fine.
Because if he wasn’t, if something was really wrong he wasn’t sure he knew how to face it.
And worse: he wasn’t sure he knew how to let Buck face it with him.
Buck’s POV
For the first time in his life, Buck felt steady.
It was a strange feeling, one he didn’t always know what to do with. He’d spent years chasing new jobs, new cities, new people, anything that gave him the illusion of belonging. But nothing had ever lasted. Not until the 118. Not until Eddie.
Six months into their relationship and he still sometimes caught himself waiting for the floor to fall out from under him. But it didn’t. Instead, every day seemed to layer something new onto the foundation they were building. Movie nights with Christopher. Mornings spent tangled up in Eddie’s sheets, the sunlight creeping in slow. Jokes passed back and forth at the station like they’d been doing it their whole lives.
It was good. It was safe. It was love steady and real and his.
Which was why he noticed when Eddie started slipping.
At first it was little things: Eddie passing up gym time, waving Buck on to the treadmill with a shake of his head. Eddie claiming long shifts had worn him out, running into the locker room more often than usual, standing a little stiff when he thought no one was looking.
Buck told himself not to read into it. Everyone had off days. Hell, Eddie was a single dad, a firefighter, and the man never let himself off the hook. Of course he’d be tired sometimes.
But the worry settled in anyway.
One Saturday morning, Buck woke to Eddie sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders tight, rubbing his legs like he was trying to force them into cooperating.
“You okay?” Buck asked, voice rough with sleep.
Eddie startled a little, like he hadn’t realized Buck was awake. Then he forced a smile. “Yeah. Just stiff. Guess we overdid it yesterday at the gym.”
Buck pushed up on one elbow, studying him. Eddie’s smile was too careful, too practiced. But Buck let himself grin back anyway. “Pretty sure I’m the one who overdid it. You kicked my ass on the treadmill.”
The thing was, Buck remembered the treadmill. Eddie hadn’t been faster if anything, he’d been slower than usual. But Buck didn’t say that. He didn’t want to add to whatever weight Eddie was already carrying.
Instead, he reached out and tugged Eddie back toward him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Stay in bed. We don’t have Chris this morning. We can be lazy for once.”
Eddie chuckled, low and soft, but shook his head. “Shower first.” And just like that, he was gone, leaving Buck with a lingering sense of unease.
At the firehouse, Buck noticed even more. The way Eddie grimaced when he thought no one was watching. How he lingered too long. How he massaged his shoulder after hauling hose.
“Everything good, Diaz?” Chim asked once, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah,” Eddie said easily. “Just sore.”
The rest of the team let it go, but Buck felt the words lodge like a splinter under his skin. Just sore. Just tired. Just stiff. Eddie had a whole vocabulary of excuses now, and Buck hated how natural they sounded on his tongue.
He wanted to push. God, he wanted to sit Eddie down and say I know you, I know something’s wrong, just let me in. But every time he tried, Eddie brushed it off with that same smile, that same steady tone, and Buck felt like he was overreacting.
One night after shift, Buck stopped by Eddie’s place. Christopher was at a friend’s, so it was just the two of them. They ordered takeout and rested on the couch, Buck’s head resting in Eddie’s lap. Eddie absently combed his fingers through Buck’s hair, eyes fixed on the TV.
“You’ve seemed… off lately,” Buck said quietly, watching the flicker of light play across Eddie’s face.
Eddie’s hand stilled for a second before resuming its rhythm. “I’m fine. Just tired. You know how it is.”
Buck tilted his head back, searching Eddie’s expression. “Yeah, but,”
“Buck.” Eddie’s tone was gentle but firm, the kind that usually ended a conversation. “I’m fine.”
Buck swallowed back the dozen questions that wanted to spill out. He nodded, even though his chest ached with the knowledge that Eddie was shutting him out.
He told himself it was nothing. He told himself Eddie would tell him if it was serious.
But still, when Eddie looked back at the TV, Buck kept watching him, his stomach knotted tight.
When Christopher came home the next day, Buck decided to push the worry aside. The three of them had plans pizza night and board games, laughter filling the house like it always did.
Chris was telling them a story about his science project, waving his hands for emphasis, when Buck caught Eddie zoning out. His eyes were on Chris, but unfocused, his smile stretched thin.
Buck nudged him gently. “Hey. You with us?”
Eddie blinked, shook his head a little, and forced a laugh. “Yeah. Sorry. Long day.”
Chris didn’t notice, too busy explaining the difference between volcano models and chemical reactions. Buck smiled along, joining in the conversation, but the worry sat with him.
Later that night, after Chris was asleep and Eddie had gone to bed early, Buck lingered in the kitchen, staring at the ring catalog on his phone.
He’d been saving. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Maddie. Six months might seem fast to some people, but for Buck, it felt right. Eddie was it. Eddie and Chris were home. He could see it so clearly proposing, blending their lives even more fully, building the family he’d always dreamed of.
But as he stared at the sleek bands on the screen, he hesitated. What if Eddie wasn’t ready? What if something bigger was going on?
Buck tried to shake it off the next morning. They had the weekend free, and he pitched the idea of camping.
“Chris has been wanting to go,” Buck said, leaning against the counter while Eddie poured coffee. “We could make it a thing?”
For a second, something flickered across Eddie’s face something Buck couldn’t read. Then Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Buck grinned, crossing the kitchen to kiss him. Eddie kissed back, steady and warm, and Buck let himself believe that maybe he was just overthinking.
But when he pulled away, he caught it again that shadow in Eddie’s eyes, the hesitation that didn’t match his words.
“You sure you’re okay?” Buck asked softly. “You’ve seemed… I don’t know. Different.”
“I’m fine, Buck.” Eddie’s voice was steady, practiced. “Just tired. You know how it is.”
Buck wanted to argue. He wanted to push until Eddie told him the truth. But he didn’t. Instead, he forced a smile and nodded.
And when Eddie turned away, Buck’s heart twisted with the quiet certainty that whatever was going on, Eddie wasn’t telling him.
That night, Buck laid awake long after Eddie had drifted off. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of Eddie’s breathing.
Buck reached out, tracing the curve of Eddie’s shoulder with his fingertips. He thought about all the things Eddie had given him love, family, a place to belong. He thought about how hard Eddie worked to carry everyone else, how rarely he let himself be carried in return.
“I’ve got you,” Buck whispered into the dark, even though Eddie couldn’t hear him. “Whatever it is, I’ve got you.”
And he meant it. Whatever was happening, whatever Eddie wasn’t saying Buck would be there.
Even if Eddie didn’t believe it yet.