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Buck knows how to tie a tie. He never used to.
On his first date with Abby, he got ready at the station because he didn't want to go home and have all his friends making fun of him for ‘finally settling down’, or how the date would fail.
He even rented a suit for the occasion (he regretted that later, they were not happy that he'd got it covered in blood), which included a tie. That he didn't know how to tie.
And Buck, full of pride- and mostly embarrassment- didn't ask for help. He stood there for about 20 minutes, long after A shift- excluding Bobby, who was doing paperwork- had left, trying to tie his tie. He was about to give up and call Abby to cancel when Bobby walked in and, without a word, started tying his tie for him. A couple of minutes after, Bobby said “you look real handsome, kid,” Buck had to hold back tears then, and whenever he looked back on the moment. The first time, besides his sister, that someone he looked up to truly, genuinely, had faith in him.
The next time he had to wear a tie was for his ceremony for becoming a fully fledged firefighter. Once again, he'd got ready at the station.
He should have been happy that day, he was finally belonging somewhere officially. But it was hard not to notice the lack of family and friends there to support him. He’d invited Connor, who he'd been the closest to out of any of their friends, but he had to work and couldn't come. He’d sent an invitation to Maddie, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer, let alone for her to actually come.
So he sits in the locker room in his official LAFD suit with his tie in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the fabric, trying not to cry. It was then that Bobby had come looking for him, and placed a hand on his shoulder before sitting next to him on the bench. Bobby, as always, knew what was going on in Buck’s head. “We’re your family, Buck, we’re here for you,” he'd said, “Need help with that?” Buck had only nodded, afraid if he spoke he'd cry.
So Bobby, once again, tied his tie for him, then gave him a soft smile, and said “you look real handsome kid.” and Buck cried when Bobby had left the room.
The time after that was Eddie’s firefighter ceremony. Maddie helped him get ready at his loft so Bobby didn't get to help him that time. She'd laughed- in the way sisters do when they're making fun of you, in a way that doesn't hurt- when he said he didn't know how to tie his tie.
“Bobby always does it,” he said quietly, ducking his head. She'd stopped laughing and gave him a small hug after that, and taught him how to tie it.
Bobby clapped a hand on his shoulder when he got to the station, “you got it yourself this time,” he said, smiling wide. “I’m proud of you, kid. You look real handsome.”
Six and a half years down the track, and Buck can tie a tie without even thinking now.
Buck knows how to tie his tie. He does.
It’s one of the worst days of his life so far, if not the worst.
He’d never thought the day would come where he had to put a tie on himself without a smile and a 'you look real handsome, kid’ from Bobby when he sees.
His hands are shaking as he drapes the fabric around his neck, choking back a sob. He hasn't cried since the day in the lab. He’s been working on autopilot ever since, as if he died along with Bobby in that lab. He’s barely spoken, barely eaten, mostly slept or baked food for Eddie. He hasn't even been back at work yet.
It’s hitting him now though, as he gets dressed for the worst day of his life. It’s hitting him worse than the truck that crushed his leg. It’s hitting him worse than the lightning that killed him.
He got back up from those. He got his leg back, he got his life back. He will never get his Bobby back.
Suddenly the idea of tying his own tie for Bobby’s funeral felt like tying a noose around his neck.
Buck can't breathe. He inhales, but he doesn't get any air. He chokes back another sob, a tear dripping down his cheek, and that one tear breaks the dam.
His hands are shaking, he can't breathe, he's sobbing, and he can't tie his fucking tie. His throat hurts, he's ruining his good shirt, and he can't tie his fucking tie.
There's a soft knock on the bedroom door, and Buck can't answer, all he can do is cry. “Buck?” Eddie calls softly, pushing open the door, not even waiting for an answer. He’s got whatever the latest thing Buck had made in his hand, a bite taken out of it already.
Buck covers a sob by wiping his face with his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. He doesn't even know what he's sorry for. Crying? His existence? Who knows.
Eddie smiles softly, taking the two strides over to him, putting a hand on his face.
Buck can't help but sob again, melting into Eddie as he wraps his arms around him. Great. He can't tie his own tie, and now he's ruining Eddie’s good shirt as well.
But he can breathe now. Eddie breathes, and Buck breathes with him. Eddie pulls back, and holds the food in his mouth, holding Buck’s face for a second before moving his hands down to Buck’s tie.
Buck watches Eddie and takes deep breaths. He watches Eddie tie Buck’s tie for him, without a word, without asking, as if he knew what Buck was having trouble with before he'd even knocked on the door.
Eddie's eyes are red and tired. He was crying last night in the bathroom, Buck had heard him. Buck always hears him crying.
Eddie finishes, holds the food in one hand, and gives the tie a tug to get it in the right spot. He puts a quick kiss on Buck’s birthmark with a quiet ‘mwah’ and leaves the room.
And Buck cries again.