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Buck hummed under his breath as he cleaned the engine in the bay of the firehouse. He was alone on his side of the truck, Ravi working on the other side. It was a bit of a Sisyphean task, considering they were cleaning off the mud and it was still pouring outside, but he didn't mind. He liked having something to do rather than just sitting around. He'd get restless when there was too much time between calls and nothing to do around the station.
His phone rang and he paused to pull it from his pocket. Buck was glad no one was within eyesight, considering the probably goofy grin that spread across his face. He dropped the sponge back into the bucket of water and answered the phone as he walked to the locker room for some privacy.
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Buck asked by way of greeting, and he knew Eddie could hear the smile in his voice.
"The LAFD Twitter will survive without me while I make my coffee," Eddie said, his tone a bit of a deadpan. But Buck could hear the slight smile there too.
It was new, this thing between them. Eddie getting shot a while ago (7 months and 4 days, not that Buck was counting) had really put things into perspective for Buck, and he'd been forced to grapple with the fact that he had feelings for his best friend. He had been trying to resign himself to the idea of a lifetime of pining when Eddie had broken things off with Ana. One night a few weeks later, after a few too many beers, they had ended up making out on Eddie's couch.
That had only been about a month ago, so they hadn't told anyone. They were both still adjusting themselves, considering neither of them had been aware they were into men until now. But things were so ridiculously easy between them. Their lives had already been so intertwined that it didn't feel like much had changed. Except they kissed now. A lot. And they couldn't really seem to keep their hands to themselves the second they were left alone.
If Eddie wasn't working at dispatch, Buck was sure they would've defiled one or two of the closets at the fire station already.
"And just how many coffees have you had today?" Buck asked knowingly, leaning back against the wall of the locker room.
"This might be my third-"
"Third?" Buck echoed, incredulous and half-scolding. "It's barely 3:30."
"Yeah. Breakfast, lunch, and then an afternoon cup so I don't fall asleep at that Godforsaken desk," Eddie said, his tone leaning towards something bitter by the end.
Eddie was trying to appreciate his job at dispatch as the LAFD liaison, he really was. But Buck knew how much he missed working at the 118. But he also knew that Christopher was the number one priority, and after the shooting, Eddie didn't want his kid to be worrying about him all the time. It was too much for a ten year old to be worrying about. Buck understood, even if he hated not having his partner with him on calls.
"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack," Buck teased, trying to keep the tone of the conversation light. "Is that why you called? To save yourself from boredom?"
"I can't just want to talk to you, cariño?" Eddie's voice had dropped slightly, both in octave and volume, making Buck's heart skip a beat in his chest and his cheeks heat slightly.
"Shut up," he muttered oh-so-intelligently. He couldn't help it, pet names did something to him—especially when they were being said by Eddie. He shook his head as if to shake away his thoughts and tried to will away the blush. "Are we still doing a movie night tomorrow with Chris?"
"Of course," Eddie hummed, and Buck could hear his spoon clinking lightly against his mug as he stirred his coffee. "I was thinking…" He trailed off, something unsure in his voice. He cleared his throat and powered through before Buck could prompt him to continue. "I was thinking we could tell him. If you wanted."
Buck felt his stupid smile grow, his heart doing something funny in his chest. "Yeah? You don't think he'll be… I dunno, upset or anything?"
Buck remembered Christopher getting upset about his father seeing Ana, remembered talking the kid through his fear of people leaving. It was a memory that made Buck's chest ache. He adored Christopher, he never wanted to see him hurting or upset.
"I think he'll take it fine," Eddie said, though he sounded a little uncertain. "We just have to assure him that it won't change anything. You're already around all the time, you practically help me raise the kid."
Before Buck could say anything, the bell suddenly sounded, letting the 118 know they had a call. He groaned. "I gotta go, Eds. Talk later?"
"Yeah, yeah, go. Good luck."
-
The call was a pileup just off the highway, involving a semi and half a dozen cars. Due to the size of it and the rain still pounding down on them, it was sure to be a tiring and time-consuming call. Unfortunately, accidents were common enough that the whole thing felt routine by now, and Buck didn't even really have to think so much as follow muscle memory with each of Bobby's orders.
It was when he went to check his third car that everything came crashing down around him.
Buck didn't recognize the car, so at first he just carried on like normal. The car was pretty badly damaged, but Buck was able to reach through the broken window to check the driver's pulse. It was weak, but steady. He leaned his head in slightly to check the backseat, and it was suddenly like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He hardly noticed the second kid, the one behind the driver's seat.
He was too busy staring with mounting horror at the familiar kid on the passenger side. Not just any kid—his kid.
"Chris!" Buck's voice didn't even sound like his own, almost shrill in his terror. Christopher didn't even stir, but Buck's keen eyes registered that his chest was rising and falling—he was breathing. Still breathing, even if Buck felt like he couldn't.
Christopher's curls were half-soaked with blood, the end of a gash peeking out from his hairline. Most of his body was pinned by the way the passenger seat had been shoved back as the car crumpled in after hitting something in the front and also being hit in the back.
Buck was suddenly pulled back, a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes were wild when he looked over his shoulder to meet Bobby's gaze. He was mostly maintaining his calm captain mask, but Buck could see the worry in his eyes. "Did you say—"
"Christopher is in there," Buck said frantically, tugging away from Bobby and letting his eyes run over the scene in front of him, trying to find the best entry point to get into the car. He knew there were other people in the car, other people all around them that needed help. But he didn't care. Another firehouse had already been called due to the number of people injured, and should be there any minute. Let them handle everyone else, all Buck cared about was his kid.
Buck rounded the car to the passenger side, and he tugged at the handle of the backdoor with all his strength, despite rationally knowing he wouldn't be able to pull it open. He didn't hear any of the commotion or his team's voices around him, knocking on the window and calling Christopher's name again. When Ravi appeared at Buck's side with the saws, Buck all but yanked the tool from Ravi and set to work.
By the time the door was gone and Buck was leaning into the car over Chris, the ten year old was starting to come to. His eyes were wide and panicked behind his glasses, and the pain that Buck saw there made his chest feel so tight he was sure he would stop breathing. But he didn't, somehow.
"Hey, Chris, I'm right here," Buck said, trying to keep his voice soothing and even as the boy started to cry.
"B-Buck? It hurts," he practically whimpered as his little shoulders shook with a sob, and Buck felt his own eyes sting with tears. Of course it hurt, the kid probably had a concussion in addition to that gash on his head, not to mention the fact that he was still pinned by the passenger seat.
"I know, bud, I know," Buck soothed, his voice cracking at the end. "But you're gonna be okay, I promise. We're gonna get you out of here."
"Buck, we need to get in there," Ravi reminded him, voice low and barely heard over the pouring rain. Buck knew he needed to move, let Ravi in with the spreader to get the seat pushed back off of Christopher.
But when Buck went to step back, Christopher's hand shot out and he made a terrified noise, sounding smaller than Buck had ever known him. "Buck—"
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere, Superman," Buck assured, voice thick with unshed tears as he grabbed the kid's hand.
"I'm scared, and everything hurts so bad." Chris was crying so hard he couldn't seem to catch his breath. A rational part of Buck knew that the fear, worsened by the pain and disorientation, was a big part of this and Buck should try to calm him down. But mostly, Buck felt like he was going to burst out of his skin at the idea of his kid in this much pain.
Buck clutched Christopher's hand firmly in his, his free hand reaching out to cup the kid's cheek in a featherlight touch. "I know, Chris, but you just gotta give us a second, okay? I can make it all better, just let us get you out."
Chris looked at Buck with those teary eyes, so full of trust even through his fear and pain. He nodded, squeezing Buck's hand weakly before letting go to let him get to work.
-
Eddie made it to the hospital in record time after Buck called him.
Christopher was in a room, and asleep in the bed, Buck anxiously pacing the length of the room. He didn't really need to be anxious anymore, the doctors were confident that Chris would be okay—somehow, being pinned by the passenger seat had only resulted in some bruised bones rather than broken ones. So, the poor kid would be pretty achy for a while, and he still had that concussion to recover from. But otherwise, the doctors had stitched up the gash on his head and declared him lucky.
But Buck couldn't settle. It felt like every single cell in his body was still on edge, adrenaline making him tremble in a way he hasn't since he was a probie.
He looked up and stopped short as Eddie came in, expression frantic in a way that looked out of place on someone who used to try so hard to keep it all in. Christopher had always been Eddie's weak spot, though.
Buck could only watch as Eddie reached the bed, hands cradling Christopher's sleeping face oh-so-gently, like he had to double check that he was here and real and okay. "Doctors said he'll be alright, just some cuts and bruises, and a concussion. He—" His voice broke and he cleared his throat. "He was pretty lucky, all things considered."
It didn't feel lucky, even though Buck knew it should. Buck had been a first responder long enough to know this was basically the best case scenario. But Christopher had already been through so much in his short life, the idea of another painful and scary memory added to all that made Buck want to throw up.
After looking Christopher over like he had to make sure himself, Eddie finally turned to Buck. His brown eyes make quick work of looking Buck over too, that subconscious scan for injuries Eddie always did when he saw Buck after a shift.
"You're shaking," Eddie noted, something in him seeming calmer now that he'd checked on Chris. He still had one hand cupping the boy's face, stroking his thumb over his cheek in a soothing motion. Buck knew it was more to soothe himself than anything, since Chris was asleep.
"I—" Buck choked on the words, not that he had any idea what the hell he had been going to say. He just kept seeing Christopher in that crushed car, bloody and crying and scared.
Eddie closed the distance between them and pulled Buck into a hug, and it all finally released like a dam breaking. He leaned into Eddie hard, tears running down his face as he muffled his cries in Eddie's shoulder. He felt terrible—he should be comforting Eddie, not the other way around. Christopher was his son, after all.
"He's okay, Buck," Eddie hushed, running a hand up and down Buck's back comfortingly. "You said it yourself, he's gonna be just fine."
"I-I know, I just—" Buck cut himself off and shook his head where it was still pressed into Eddie's shoulder. He tried to force the tears to stop. "I'm sorry, Eds, I should be comforting you—"
Eddie shushed him immediately, still rubbing his back in a soothing manner. "He's your kid too. And you were actually there. You're allowed to be freaked out, cariño."
Buck's heart suddenly felt too big for his chest. The adrenaline and worry still hadn't worn off fully, but now Buck felt like crying for an entirely different reason. Eddie had said Christopher was his kid too. Sure, Buck felt that way and had for a while, but it was different to hear Eddie say it.
He pulled back from the hug just enough to press his lips to Eddie's, one hand coming up to rest against Eddie's neck, his thumb stroking over his pulse. Buck could taste his own tears in the kiss so he knew Eddie could too, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was feeling entirely too much, and he wanted the peace that only Eddie ever seemed to bring him.
When they pulled apart, Buck rested his forehead against Eddie's, keeping his eyes closed for a moment. His face was still wet, but the tears had stopped running. His chest heaved slightly as he caught his breath from both the kiss and the crying that had come before it.
Before either of them could say anything, they heard a voice from the bed, sounding tired and very confused. "Dad?"