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It's not wholly fixed, but at least it's not quite so broken.
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And he’s suddenly just . . . exhausted. Exhausted by the song and dance. Exhausted by trying to pretend he doesn’t hurt like a bullet wound, doesn’t ache like his back after too many nights on the couch. (He and Buck never shared a bed when Buck lived with them. The bed feels too empty anyway.)
So when Buck says, “You don’t miss me,” Eddie says, “Yes, I do,” and watches surprise bloom on Buck’s face. And the fact Buck thought Eddie wouldn’t miss him, wouldn’t feel his absence like a phantom limb, like a promise broken, is frankly more upsetting than the absence of every touch. Eddie had thought Buck knew him like the back of his hand. Knew how important he is in not only Eddie’s life, but Chris’s. How important he is to Eddie.
Because maybe he’s got this paramedic thing down, and maybe he enjoys working with Hen. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss how things used to be. Eddie came back to an LA that doesn’t have Bobby, and apparently also to an LA that doesn’t have Buck.
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Bookmark Notes:
Lovely!
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And he can smell him, that warm, citrusy scent that always calls to mind nights on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table close enough that every so often their ankles brush. It smells like nostalgia, like a thing he’ll never get back. It doesn’t feel like he appreciated it enough until it was suddenly gone, because he didn’t even realize it could be taken away from him at all.