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Today is a rough one.
Buck always knew about it. When you lose someone so close, so loved, time passes and life —to the ones that stayed here- has to go on. Wake up another day and then another and then another until the scar he feels in his chest is still there, because it always will be, but instead of a fresh, pulsing wound, this time it feels like something close to healing. Like his heart is not broken anymore, only a bit crooked. Although he knows it is a lasting injury, cutting so much deeper than anyone that happened to his much hurt body. It'll never be closed, until he's nothing more than stardust.
There's less crying, less time looking over at the table to see if he can find him sitting there, less nights counting the minutes to fall asleep wishing to dear God to find him in some dream. To listen to him even once more, whatever it could be the words.
So, time passes. Days are, somehow, better. Buck finds happiness in little things, some bandages to his hurting (or close). Like the new sound baby Nash blurts out when he laughs and the look on his face when he realizes that laugh belongs to him, only to make him laugh so much more. Like Jee walking into Buck's new house, running straight into the kitchen, asking him if he made cookies already. (No, princess, I was saving it so I could do it with you for the first time).
Like dinners with Chim and Maddie, the loud laughs that keep becoming truther and truther after each joke. Like helping Hen and Karen pulling out the Halloween decorations, and sharing the most delicious tea ever at the end of the day. Like every scheduled evening with May and Harry, betting to their favorite couples on The Bachelor or theorizing about the last show they could watch.
Little things and not so little, as well.
Like Eddie watching him with the fondest eyes, the first night he invites him to his new home. The sad pout Eddie does when Buck asks him why he is like that these days, why does it feel weird between them. It's too hard for him to talk openly, to not be sarcastic or selfish, urging to utter elusive words.
But he's tired. The white hairs on his forehead are growing too fast. It's been a long time already for him not to speak his mind, instead of letting it leak between his cracks. If Eddie has a problem with him, he needs to know.
He tells him so. He pleads. He feels pathetic with the words, like a stray dog searching for treats of unknown hands.
"I need to know, Eddie. I'll understand".
"You'll understand… what exactly?" Eddie looks at him still, glued to the fridge, fists clenching like he's about to burst out with something —not anger, he's almost never angry with him. Something Buck can't grasp altogether.
"If you- if I’m being too much. If you got tired of me already".
"Buck". Eddie says his name with a silky sympathy, like the mere thought of Buck thinking that is insulting. But he can't stop.
"I know! I know I've been a lot since we're not partners anymore. I know you see it. Look, it's okay. We don't need to talk about it. I just want to be sure".
Eddie shakes his head and takes a few steps towards him. Buck can see his chest heaving, anxiety creeping up his mind as his breath ends up fanning his face with how close he ended up.
"I see it, Eddie! You're avoiding me. I get it, I can be a handful. I'm being jealous again. It's stupid, really-"
"Shut up". Eddie cuts him down, his words strong but not a trace of admonishment on them.
In that moment, Buck notices he's so close he can see the little brown and black dots inside his pupils. His tiny beauty mark below his long, beautiful eyelashes. His lips pursing, some frustration behind, and Buck is in need of taking the lid off, of being sure about what he's frustrated about.
"You can tell me anything. I would do anything". Against advice, he keeps going.
"Buck". Eddie searches for his eyes, like he isn't allowed to lose the contact, not even for a second. He brushes his fingers in Buck's, making him shiver. "I need you to calm down and shut up".
"I-" Buck gulps, too aware of how his heartstrings dance every time Eddie's fingers move, such a light brush that it could be like a breeze. "If it's not that, what is it?"
"I'm scared it would ruin us".
"What will?"
Eddie's fingers shift. There's not a delicate brush anymore. He threads his fingers around Buck's wrist, like he needs him for stability. Buck is sure as hell he does on his own part. His heartbeat goes crazy under his touch and Eddie must be feeling it too, with the soft grip around Buck's pulse.
Eddie looks down for less than a second. At Buck's mouth. And Buck doesn't know if he's getting it right, but he hopes so badly.
Hope has been dangerous so many times for him. Has been running lost from him so many, many times. He wishes he could possess the feeling, making the wish come true each time hope lights up inside his chest.
Buck melts into Eddie's soft gaze. How could he think he had a problem with this look over him? Those eyes that make him feel safe, grounded and stumbling at the same time.
Eddie strengthens his grip into Buck's wrist. Fingers intertwined, his other hand goes to grab Buck's side of the neck.
And he kisses him.
The hope was finally true. Eddie's fingers trace his pulse below, slightly. It's crazy how someone can hold you with so much love, so much tenderness. It's insane noticing that Eddie has Buck's pulse in his touch and his heart in his hands. It senseless how free he is, the way he can place his palms into Eddie's shoulders and press him into a hug, his forearms clashing with Eddie's shorts hairs, Eddie's eyelashes brushing his own blushed cheeks.
Buck understands now. It makes him really happy. Those are the big things.
When Eddie sits beside him and moves closer only to rest his hand on his thigh, doesn't matter who's watching. When he whispers some secret joke to his ear and Buck gets flushed red with Chimney's commentary after. When Eddie directs him a smile that's reserved for him and Buck knows he's gonna search for a kiss before he leans in. When they are having a movie night with Christopher and he feels at so much ease, like nothing bad could happen to any of them. When he tries to fall asleep hugging him and Eddie buries his nose into the crook of his neck and sighs so loud, he laughs because it tickles. When he fails to close his eyes because he doesn't want to stop watching Eddie, sleeping peacefully, breathing slowly, his eyelashes reaching all the way to his cheeks, his forehead so relaxed he wishes he could keep him at that level of calmness forever. His mind on a battle of dying of exhaustion and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
He wakes up that day feeling fine. Eddie leans into him, eyes still closed as he settles his head in Buck's chest, and he starts caressing his back slowly, following a soft path, feeling the heat covering his hand.
Sharing a bed with Eddie is such a common routine that he almost feels dumb about moving out. Buck thinks, then, with relief: it's good I got a bigger house. When we live together we already have space for more children.
It's merely a second when the thought crosses his mind but it takes the breath out of his lungs entirely. He never thought about it before, they never talked about that kind of definitive future between them. He doesn't know if Eddie would want that.
Although, when Eddie slowly blinks his eyes open and tugs a tiny, fuzzy smile —being the first person he sees in the morning— his heart grows inside his chest and he's entirely sure of his own choice. He doesn't know what's the rest of his life, the rest of their lives, but it has to be together; no matter how long it lasts.
He wasn't expecting a rough day. It seemed normal. Breakfast with Eddie and Chris, taking him to school, staring embarrassingly at Eddie driving, hypnotized by his responsible hands and his arms flexing at every turn, tapping his fingers into Eddie's thigh, stepping into the station with him.
The only thing out of the ordinary was this sudden urge of having things cleared with him, this necessity of watching him cradling a baby, their baby, of having few children with his brown eyes, his dark hair, his skin tone, his smile, his force, his loyalty, his heart of gold.
It doesn't help when they arrive at a house near the station with bright lights and totally wet turnouts as a big, relentless storm breaks into the night sky of LA.
The clearly pregnant girl screams so loud, it almost shuts up the lightning blaring outside. She's laying on the ground as they prepare everything around her. She's not gonna reach anywhere else with the time of her contractions, she has to deliver here, now.
"I thought-". She cries as they all gather around her and manages to take Buck's hand strongly, while he's unoccupied, leaving the paramedics to do their job. "I thought I had more time".
"What's your name, honey?" Hen talks with her motherly soft tone to ease her nerves and it works for everyone in the room.
"I'm Millie". Her pained frown is noticeable and Hen moves her head, pursing her lips.
"I'm Hen. This is Eddie, we're gonna take care of you, okay?"
Millie nods, understanding. She squeezes Buck's hand, noticing him. "What about you?"
"I'm Buck. I can be your moral support", he smiles slightly and makes her laugh. A nice ministry after the first moments of tension.
"Do you?" She breathes hard, catching her breath. "Do you have children?"
"No, but not my first rodeo either. This time, they are gonna help you, though".
Eddie is the one to help through the labour, the most.
When everything is done, he's holding the newborn baby in his arms —healthy, crying, full of life. Only for a minute, before he needs to give him to his mother. But in that minute, he looks up to catch Buck's gaze and the sight of the happy smirk he does at him, like he's sharing a secret telepathic language with him, blinds him.
Buck is never gonna stop searching for that look, for that smile in Eddie's face, for that kind of fondness he shows with a child in his arms. His heartstrings dance, jittery, imagining it could be their own child someday.
Millie holds the baby now, even breaths between them both, a steady relief and her face showing the most satisfying kind of exhaustion.
"Millie". Eddie speaks almost whispering, afraid of breaking the peace. "Do we need to call someone?"
She seems like she thinks about it, and everyone shares confused glares until she talks again. "My dad. I removed him from my emergency contact but- I need him now".
When Chimney is about to call him, someone knocks on the door from beneath the sounding storm. They hear him calling for Millie, they all look at her before she nods in agreement.
"That's my dad".
Buck looks at the old man with a stressed face, with some tears in his eyes, with grey hairs and crinkles below his dark eyes. He searches for Millie until he finds her and the relief falls onto him as his shoulders sag. Hen explains they are gonna take her to the hospital and he keeps mumbling to her daughter: "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm here now".
It's a beautiful sight. He would love to know more about them, but they have no time. Although, with his new discovering, his mind can only go to one place. To one person, actually.
When they arrive at the station again, his shoulders are carrying so much more weight than when they left. He looks at the empty kitchen, not a sound of anyone clanking pans or some stirring sauce, nor congratulations for the good job, no one asking for help there. Just a clean and dark kitchen.
Buck ends up the next few hours cooking breakfast and meal prepping for everyone, the alarm quiet like it doesn't want to help him to ease his stress (even when it's good because it means there's no other emergency, nothing bad happening. Only the storm that keeps blaring outside and the messy one that scrambles Buck's mind).
When he sits down on the table with everyone getting ready to start their own meal, he tries as hard as he can to not show what's unraveling inside of him.
He feels Eddie's palm on his shoulders, from behind the chair. He looks up at him, showing his neck, and his boyfriend smiles but the glint doesn't reach his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Buck wants to cry. He wants to tell him everything that's been going on since the first second he woke up, and then some.
"'m fine, just tired". He lies.
Eddie forms a line with his lips, looking around to see if anyone is giving them mind, only to leave a tender kiss into Buck's forehead. As short as it is, it’s everything to him and his eyes get rimmed red, blinking rapidly as he turns his gaze back to the front where Eddie goes to sit. He senses Eddie's ankle tangling into his, another way of showing him he's right there.
"We'll talk about it later, okay?" Of course he doesn't believe him. Of course Buck has no chance of not telling him everything minutes later they go together, hand in hand, fingers threaded.
They'll spend the night in Buck's house and there's a new, nice routine they managed without even noticing.
The house has a pretty backyard. Not the biggest but big enough so Buck can embellish it with his new hobby of growing plants and flowers. With the storm long gone, there's a light breeze that follows them there as they sit down in the grass, watching the outburst of yellow, pink and white flowers near the tomatoes and the basil plants. They barely can see them, now that the skyline spreads dark on top of them and the lights of the backyard are tiny and dim. Buck can always feel cozy there. Safe.
Eddie knows it, which is why he waits patiently for him to talk, his fingers drawing shapeless twirls in his arm, for the sake of easing his feelings and for the need of touching him, too.
Buck looks at his face as the moon creates shadows outlining his pretty features, his bones softening by the lights hugging them, his eyes glistening with a know feeling, one that Buck is so used to at this moment it keeps surprising him how it clenches his heart, how loved it makes him feel.
"Buck?" Eddie encourages him with a somehow worried frown and his long eyelashes moving slowly.
Buck squints one eye, thinking the right way to start this kind of conversation. He doesn't know if there is one, really. "Have you ever thought about having more kids?"
Eddie tugs a smile as he couldn't help it, answering a lot faster than he would've thought. "Not for a long time. I have been thinking about it lately, though".
Buck still feels sad but that comment makes him follow Eddie with a smile. He puts his palm in Eddie's knee to squeeze it, jokingly. "And…? What's the verdict?"
"I would like to try, like having one more and see where it takes us". Eddie tilts his head in his direction, his smile growing bigger. "I would love to see you being a dad to someone other than Chris".
Buck gulps, his eyes mist with the urge to cry coming back.
"What makes you sad about that?" Eddie rests his hand on top of Buck's in his own leg, pressing it. "I always thought you wanted kids, not like Chris isn't your own at this point. But more".
"Yes, I do. I… I kinda lost it yesterday seeing you with that baby. I'm about to start a name list to see which name fits better with our last names".
"Already beat you at that". Buck laughs, a bit lighter now. "So… we're on the same page. What are you worried about?"
Buck takes a deep breath, feeling the weight on his chest growing wider. "Bobby is never going to meet our kids".
Eddie's expression falls, moving Buck's hand to thread their fingers together. "Yeah, I… I thought about it too".
"It sucks!" Buck tries to say it lightly, but his voice cracks with the tears that pool in his eyes. "It fucking hurts. He didn't even get to see us get together".
"I'm sure he knew how we loved each other".
"I didn't even know, how could he?"
Eddie laughs, sadly. "He knew". He reassures and Buck would like to believe it. "It's really unfair. He should be here. He'd be happy for us".
"Yeah, it's unfair. And it's weird because, just when I think I'm not thinking about it anymore… it slaps me again. Like when I'm cooking something at the station and I'm close to asking him for help, only to look up and remember or when I meet May and Harry and I keep waiting for them to talk about him. It isn't always sad, though. But it hurts like a bitch now".
“I keep thinking about him too. And when I don't, and it slaps me again like you said, I feel guilty”. Eddie shakes his head. “Like I'm not allowed to not think about him. Like I'm guilty for forgetting him when I know it's impossible. I hear his voice in my head when I need advice”. He says with a sad smile.
Buck has learned, with every day, that grief is strange. That's how it works. He looks at the sky scattered with stars and wishes Bobby is smiling at them, somewhere.
Eddie moves, only to hug him, to tug him closer. Buck rests his head on his shoulder, caging himself into his arm, inhaling the soft mix of humid grass and Eddie's perfume, a musky and masculine smell that helps him with the reassurance.
"I miss him so much", he listens to Eddie saying on top of his head and his voice cracks now too, probably releasing a few tears. Buck wraps him around with his arms, fulfilling the hug.
"Me too". Eddie kisses the crown of his head and they both stare at the sky, still, without the ability to talk more until it's a bit too late.
Buck gets up first, making Eddie groan for the lack of contact that lasts only a second, because he takes his hand immediately.
After all the nightly routine, they fall asleep tired, already with wiped tears and washed faces, unrelenting to keep away from each other.
The last thing Buck thinks before falling asleep is, again, maybe he can dream about Bobby tonight. He doesn't.
It's morning already when they are some minutes away from go looking for Chris to one of his friends' house when Athena stops by, after a message when he tells Buck she needs to show them something.
She arrives in uniform, about to start her day of work and with a medium size bag in her hands.
"Want some coffee?" Eddie asks when they gather in the kitchen.
"No, it's okay. I'm just passing by. I know you have to go take Christopher".
"What's going on?" Buck asks, intrigued.
"Yesterday, I was cleaning some boxes I kept avoiding after moving. And I found something".
Buck and Eddie exchange confused glances before looking at her again. "Is something wrong?" Buck is the one who asks again, looking for some clues.
"No, no. The opposite, actually. I think". Athena smiles softly, a sense of longing in her eyes. "I found something that belongs to you. To both of you".
She opens the bag and tugs something from inside. It looks like a toy. She shows it to them before Eddie manages to move and grabs it, delicately. Buck leans into him, watching the teddy bear —now that he can identify it. A fluffy, light brown bear with black eyes and red cheeks, wearing small black and yellow turnouts just like the ones they own, the firefighter looks complete with a black helmet around its little ears. It's clearly a gift to a child, given the friendly face the bear was created with, the purpose of someone little playing with it.
"I don't get it". Buck looks at Athena again and her smile is followed by something like melancholy.
"Look at the back". She answers.
Eddie turns the bear around and lets out a tiny gasp. Buck reads the name tag in bright yellow letters and his eyes start to itch. He hugs Eddie's waist, tugging into him, watching the bear closely.
"Is this?…" Eddie starts talking but can't finish the sentence. Athena helps, nodding.
"I don't know when Bobby got it. Hell, I didn't even know it existed until yesterday. I guess he wanted to give it to you whenever the time was right".
Eddie looks at Buck with wet eyes, just like his own. Buck grabs the bear from his hands and reads the name tag again and again.
Buckley-Diaz.
"You were right", Buck says, following Eddie's gaze on top of him.
"Yeah. I told you. He knew". Eddie tugs a smile that barely matches with the tear that rolls down his cheek.
"Ahem, we talked yesterday". Buck clarifies to Athena, talking to her again. "About having a child".
"Bobby was ahead of you, I guess". Athena says softly, putting her hands on her hips. "I have to go now. I just needed for you to have it. Now your future kid has their first toy".
Buck laughs, squeezing into Eddie's waist. "Thank you, Athena".
"Really. From both of us".
It rains again that night, after they tell Christopher they want to try to adopt and his grin is so bright, Buck knows he's not the only one who's about to cry.
He watches the storm through the window, tiny drops playing races against the glass, when he feels Eddie hugging him from behind. He closes his eyes, relishing into the tender kiss Eddie leaves on the side of his neck.
"Hey", Buck whispers. "Can you show me that baby name list you talked about?"
He feels Eddie smiling on his neck, breathing deeply.
"Yeah, sure". Eddie doesn't move yet, another kiss into Buck's neck that makes him shiver. "I love you". It's unprompted, maybe out of context. They both take every opportunity to say it, now that they can.
"I love you too".
The firefighter teddy bear rests on their bed. Today feels better.