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There is a cat in Eddie’s house.
There is a cat in Eddie’s house, but no Eddie.
Buck walks through the entire place, even checks Christopher’s room, and the cat follows him the entire time, meowing away.
Eddie never told him he was getting a cat. He could have done so much research and clearly Eddie didn’t do any, because there isn’t a single thing different about the house. No cat supplies whatsoever. He can be impulsive sometimes, but Buck has to believe that Eddie would have at least gotten a litter box.
“Who are you?” Buck asks the cat. He’s black and white and he has a splotch of black right above his lip like a little mustache. “Where did you come from, huh?”
He bends down to give the cat a scratch between the ears, but he gets a swipe of claws to the wrist before he can make contact.
“Woah, not a nice kitty, alright.”
The cat narrows his eyes at Buck, meowing again. He then jumps up onto an armchair and vaults himself onto the mantle.
“Oh, shit,” Buck rushes towards where the cat is centimeters away from knocking down all of Eddie’s family photos, but doesn’t make it in time. He watches uselessly as the cat headbutts a frame, seemingly intentionally, and it crashes onto the floor.
Luckily, the glass doesn’t break and before Buck can bend down to pick it up, the cat is whacking a paw onto it. Right on top of Eddie’s face. Buck kneels down to look at it.
“What?”
The cat taps his paw again. As if he’s trying to say something.
“That… is Eddie.”
Buck feels absolutely ridiculous talking to a cat, but he would swear on his life that this cat is trying to talk back. He nods his head. Truly, his little cat head nods up and down like he’s agreeing with Buck that that is in fact Eddie in the picture.
“Okay,” Buck draws the word out, trying to understand what his life has come to, “You know Eddie.”
The cat drops his head in disappointment, then smacks his paw on Eddie’s face in the photo again and meows.
“What about Eddie? Do you know where he is?”
Apparently, cats can sigh. Because this cat gives him the most human-like long suffering sigh he’s ever heard and sticks him with an expression that is so frustrated and grumpy it almost reminds him of–
Wait.
“Eddie?”
The cat nods his goddamn head again. This cannot be happening. Buck must be in another coma dream or something because there is no possible way that Eddie Diaz has been turned into a cat.
The cat stands up and paws at Buck’s knee, tapping him multiple times before circling back to the Eddie in the photo, tapping it, and looking back at Buck expectantly.
“Eddie, is that you?”
The cat – Eddie – practically jumps in excitement, meowing over and over again and placing both front paws on Buck’s knee, getting into his space. Only then does Buck realize the brown of his eyes looks way too familiar.
Buck has to laugh, he can’t help it. It’s absurd, of course of all people it would be Eddie, the man who doesn’t believe in curses, or magic, or anything supernatural, who barely believes in a higher power. Obviously it would be him that gets turned into a cat.
Eddie narrows his eyes at him again and makes a sound like a growl. That only makes Buck laugh harder.
“Oh my God,” Buck cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s just– Eddie, you’re a cat!”
He looks at Buck as if to say, no shit.
Buck wipes the laughter tears that sting at his eyes and calms himself down enough for Eddie to stop looking at him like he’s going to claw his face off.
“How are you a cat?”
Eddie stares at him.
“Right, you can’t really tell me that, huh?” Buck says, “Make any deals with witches lately?”
Eddie digs his claws into Buck’s knee.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He gently pushes Eddie’s paws off his knee so he doesn’t have the ability to stick them into Buck’s skin. “You do anything out of the ordinary?”
He shakes his head side to side for no, then lets out a sad, whiney meow. He sits down onto his butt and stares up at Buck with wide eyes.
Buck thinks back to the last time he spoke with Eddie and wonders how long he’s been stuck like this. They’ve had the last few days off work, so he hasn’t seen him since they left their last shift. They texted a bit after they both got home, planning for Buck to come over on the weekend, which is the only reason why he’s here now. Buck texted him confirming their plans before he left, but he never got a response.
Which means Eddie very likely has been a cat for at least one whole day. Now Buck can understand why he seems upset.
“You don’t have any suspicion as to how this happened?” Eddie lets out that same whiney meow that tugs at his heartstrings. “I know, buddy, I’m sorry. I want to help, I really do, but this isn’t really within my qualifications.”
Eddie looks down at the ground and paws at the floor. He makes a pretty cute cat.
“Maybe I could get one of those TikTok witches to give us some advice,” Buck offers. He’s already thinking of some of the ones he’s come across on his feed. Eddie looks back up at him, unimpressed. “Or a Reddit witch?”
If Buck had to translate the meow, he thinks it’s safe to guess Eddie says, “I’m doomed.”
There had to have been something that did this to him. Buck thinks back to everything that’s been going on lately. Christopher is still in Texas, but that’s not new. Eddie’s rocking a mustache, but that doesn’t seem like something that would get you turned into a cat. He’s definitely been acting differently lately, but that all makes sense given the circumstances of his life at the moment. He’s been sad.
Why does that equal being a cat?
Buck spaces out and Eddie is halfway to the kitchen, tail swishing behind him when he realizes. “The kitchen fire!”
Eddie looks over his shoulder, one paw raised in the middle of a step.
“The girl who set her oven on fire! She was totally witchy!” Buck tells him. She had crystals all over the place and a tarot card tapestry. Her entire apartment was decorated in jewel tones. If anyone is to blame, it must have been her. “I bet she knows something!”
Eddie doesn’t move for a moment, doesn’t give Buck any indication of what he’s thinking. Then, his eyes widen and he starts to shake his head.
“I thought you wanted my help?” Buck stands up and starts to put on his shoes. “Well, let’s go.”
He hears a groan-like meow and the quiet sound of cat feet coming towards him. Eddie jumps into Buck’s passenger seat by himself, Buck almost offering to pick him up, but hesitating as to not make him feel even worse.
It takes Buck a while to navigate to the building, not quite remembering where it was, but knowing the general neighborhood. Eddie walks right at Buck’s heel. She had a doormat with mushrooms on it, that much Buck remembers, so at least he knows they’re at the right door when he eventually finds it.
Is it creepy and very much frowned upon to visit a civilian’s place off the clock? Probably. But his best friend is a cat.
He knocks on the door three times before a neighbor pokes their head out their door.
“She’s not home,” the girl says.
“Do you know where she is?” Buck asks. The girl gives him a strange look, opens her mouth, but doesn’t say anything. Right, creepy. “I’m with the LAFD. Just doing a uh– check in.”
She gives him a once over, eyes catching on the fact that he is not in uniform, but apparently she deems him safe because she answers. “She works at the diner around the corner.”
The girl slams and audibly locks her door before Buck can ask any more questions.
Eddie meows from below him. When Buck looks down, he’s met with an eye roll.
He doesn’t really think about his current company when he walks into the diner. Only until an employee stops him at the door and says, “Sir, you can’t bring a cat in here.”
“Oh, he’s– that’s not a cat,” Buck answers without thinking, “He’s my friend.”
“Sir, you need to leave.”
“No, I’m sorry it’s complicated, I know he looks like a cat, but he’s not a cat,” Buck tries to reason until from behind the man he sees the girl from the call, “Hey! You! Can I talk to you?”
She startles, but squints at Buck as if she recognizes him.
The man in front of Buck pushes him out the door, shooing Eddie along with him. Eddie meows fiercely at that, but then they’re both on the sidewalk.
He watches through the glass doors as the girl talks to her coworker, seems to calm him down, and then starts coming towards them.
“You’re a firefighter, right? You were in my apartment the other day.”
“Yes! I am!” He says, “I’m Buck, and actually, he–” he points at Eddie who is sitting on the pavement next to his feet, “--is also a firefighter, this is Eddie Diaz.”
“Was that the one with the mustache?” She questions, furrowing her eyebrows and looking intently at Eddie. “Huh.”
“So this isn’t weird to you?” Buck prods, “Do you know how to fix him?”
“You’re sure that’s your friend?”
Eddie meows at her in annoyance and takes a step closer to her.
“Positive.”
She nods her head so many times Buck thinks she might not be as chill about this as it seemed. She looks between them both, assessing them.
“Look I don’t– I’m not– I’m not like a witch, but I just know a lot about it because I think it’s fascinating,” she tells them, “Um, and I have heard about this happening, but there isn’t really a way to– to fix it just like that.”
“So this has happened to other people?” Eddie meows in equal interest.
“Yeah, but they’re not really people anymore, from the stories I’ve heard.”
That makes Buck go pale immediately. Eddie’s tail that was once swishing behind him stills. The girl continues.
“The idea is that there’s something you’re missing, or denying yourself, right? And so this is like a last resort kind of thing, the last try,” she says, “and if this doesn’t get you on the path you’re supposed to be on, um– you don’t get to go back to it.”
Eddie starts meowing obnoxiously, not stopping to let anyone else speak. Except, his little cat voice is not loud enough to stop Buck from talking over him.
“You’re saying if we don’t figure out what Eddie is missing then he’ll stay a cat for the rest of his life?”
“Yeah pretty much.” She shrugs. “It seems like you don’t have much time, either.”
Eddie’s meowing gets even crazier at that.
“Not being able to talk is one of the indicators that it's getting worse.”
Eddie goes silent.
Buck doesn’t know what to say.
The girl – he really should have learned her name – looks apologetic enough about the bomb she’s just dropped, and she goes back inside but not before informing Buck, “By the way, a lot of people walk dogs on this street. You might wanna…”
Buck looks down at Eddie. Eddie is already looking up at him, shaking his head once again in protest.
“I’m sorry buddy,” Buck tells him, then bends down and picks him up. Eddie stays stiff as a board, legs dangling from Buck’s arm as they walk back to the car. He can hear cat grumblings the entire way.
They sit in silence in the car. Taking in the information.
“So,” Buck starts, “It’s Chris, right?”
Eddie meows sadly in agreement. He flops himself down on the seat dramatically, lying his head on his paws.
“Can’t we just ask him to come home?” If this is between human-life or cat-life for Eddie, he’s not afraid of overstepping a bit. “I know you want to give him space, but if you’re going to turn into a cat forever isn’t it worth it to try?”
Eddie plants his head face down on the passenger seat.
“Okay, you can’t tell me no, so here’s what we’re gonna do–”
When they arrive back at Eddie’s house, Buck finds his phone where it’s still plugged in on his bedside table. So he must have woken up like this, Buck thinks. He opens it with the password he’s memorized and pulls up Christopher’s text chain.
It’s definitely not a conversation Eddie would want to have over text, but it’s going to have to do. The last time he and Buck talked about Chris, he said they were doing better. They were actually having conversations. So this wouldn’t be completely out of nowhere.
Have you given any thought to when you might want to come home?
He shows it to Eddie for approval. This is his mess after all, and it does suck that he’s not able to figure this out with Chris himself. It’s to the point, simple, but not demanding. He still has a choice, but it will get them an answer. It doesn’t take long at all for Christopher to reply.
Can you come get me once the school year ends?
Fuck. Yes. Buck shows Eddie the phone again. He doesn’t make any noise, but when Buck studies his cat face closer, he thinks he might be crying.
“This was definitely it,” Buck says, “You’ll be back to normal by tomorrow, I bet.”
He makes dinner for them both and only hesitates for a second before deciding that offering him cat food will probably not make Eddie very happy. He does, however, try to place his plate on the ground to make it easier for him to eat, which makes Eddie meow at him rudely and jump onto one of the kitchen chairs. He eats the food off the table with his front paws holding him up.
When Buck starts to make up the couch to sleep on, Eddie grumbles and paws at him until Buck drops his blanket and follows Eddie into the bedroom. He jumps onto the bed and stomps a paw.
“You want me to sleep in your bed?”
Eddie nods.
Buck awkwardly slides into Eddie’s bed. They’ve shared a bed before, that’s not the weird part. The weird part is sleeping in Eddie’s bed without the physical, human version of Eddie. It feels like an intrusion.
It feels even more strange when Eddie jumps off the bed and goes to sleep in the living room.
When Buck wakes up, it takes him a few minutes to realize where he is and what happened the previous day. But when he does, he’s throwing the covers off of himself and practically sprinting into the living room. He expects to see Eddie cramped onto the couch, but all he’s met with is a curled up tuxedo cat.
“Shit,” Buck says. So the Christopher thing didn’t work. Or maybe there’s more to it than that. Buck knows in his heart that Chris coming back had to have been part of it, but maybe there’s more. More that was going on with Eddie that was making him so sad.
If only he could just talk to him.
Eddie stands up and stretches, arching his back. His movements look much more natural than they did yesterday. It visibly takes him a few moments, a few blinks, before it seems like Eddie enters the room.
They’re running out of time.
“Evidently,” Buck deadpans, “That didn’t work.”
Eddie’s meow makes tears threaten to leak from his eyes. He blinks them away before they fall.
He still demands breakfast on the kitchen table, and somehow convinces Buck with just a withering stare to make two cups of coffee, so he’s not completely lost just yet. Buck just hopes he’s not shortening Eddie’s lifespan by being a horrible cat owner.
Except, when they find themselves back on the couch, he can see how Eddie has to continuously stop himself from getting distracted by the loose strings on one of his blankets.
“There has to be something else,” Buck says, “She said something you’re missing, or denying yourself.”
Buck can almost see the gears turning in Eddie’s brain, looking past Buck at a spot on the wall, lost in thought on something. He turns back towards Buck after a while, eyes sad. Buck should have gotten to him when he could still talk. The girl said it, when he first changed, he should have been able to talk. And Buck wasn’t there.
Why wouldn’t Eddie try to call him?
“What is it?” Buck begs, “There’s been something off about you, Eddie. Even before Christopher left.”
He watches as the recognition leaves Eddie’s eyes. He shakes his head, as if to bring himself back, and it seems to work. Eddie meows at him, something that sounds defeated and tired, frustrated and confused, exactly how Eddie has sounded for the past few months.
“Give me a clue.” Buck knows his voice is beginning to give away how desperate he feels. “C’mon, you have to have an idea.”
Eddie places his paw on Buck’s forearm, not exerting any pressure, just resting it there.
“I can’t lose you,” Buck whispers.
Buck would take care of him, if this lasted forever, Buck would keep him. It would kill him.
And shit, what would he tell Christopher? He would be his guardian. The two of them in this house with a cat who used to be his father. All because he was struggling with something and Buck didn’t see it until it was too late.
If Eddie is trying to tell him anything, Buck can’t understand. He spends a good portion of the day calling and texting their friends and family, trying to find out if anyone knows anything as discreetly as possible. Unfortunately, have you noticed anything off about Eddie lately? doesn’t get him much of a response other than the obvious answers.
Buck is his best friend. He should have known.
At dinnertime, Eddie struggles to eat at the table like he has been. Buck ends up moving his plate down to the floor. He can see Eddie hesitate getting down from the chair, but he does without complaint.
“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” Buck says to him. He’s slowly losing him as the night goes on. It’s clear that by morning, Eddie won’t be there anymore.
There’s nothing he can do. He’s just watching his friend fade away in front of him. The feeling is numbing.
It’s only when he drags himself into bed, way past a reasonable time after spending hours trying to research how to fix this, that he breaks.
He doesn’t notice Eddie following him until he jumps on the bed. His paws dig heavily into Buck’s stomach as he climbs on top of him and curls up right on top of his chest. Finally, Buck begins to cry.
He’s shaking the poor cat with how hard his sobs rack through his body. He furiously wipes at his face, but the tears just keep coming. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and all it does is allow him to let the noises fall out of his mouth, loud and ugly.
“I’m so sorry,” he chokes, “I’m so sorry, Eddie, this isn’t fair.”
Eddie uncurls himself and sits up on Buck’s chest, leaning forward and licking the tears from his face. It’s uncomfortable and the sandpaper tongue scratches his skin, and it just makes Buck cry harder.
He strokes along Eddie’s back, feeling the soft fur. “You don’t deserve this,” he says, “You don’t. I know you think you failed, I know you were struggling, but you’re so good, Eddie.”
Eddie lies down again, his paws on either side of Buck’s neck. His face so close to Buck’s.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Buck whispers, “I can’t imagine my life without you. You were it. Every time I thought about my future, you were there. You have to be there.”
Eddie nuzzles into Buck’s chin. He rests a hand on the back of his small head, holding him close.
“I think you were it for me, you know?” Buck admits, “I know I was never going to have you in that way, but– I would have lived with it. It’s never worked with anyone else because I only ever wanted you.”
Eddie lets out a mournful meow. Buck wonders if there’s still a part of him that can understand what he’s saying, or if he’s completely gone now. He isn’t able to read any of his expressions anymore.
He cries, and cries, and he thinks about how his life is going to change. How it won’t be Eddie picking Christopher up from Texas after the school year ends, but Buck. If he even wants to come back without his dad. How would he even explain it to him, to anyone? Eddie’s gone, no he didn’t die, but he’s never coming back.
Buck exhausts himself, and falls asleep on his back with a cat perched on top of him and tear tracks drying on his face.
When he wakes up, it feels like the entire world is pressing down on him. Crushing him. It makes sense, that this is what it feels like to lose Eddie.
He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He just wants to sit in it before he has to face everything. The cat who won’t display any signs of recognition, who he’ll eventually need to go buy litter and kibble for. The friends who will inevitably ask questions.
He just wishes he was more aware that the last time he saw his best friend was going to be the last.
The cat must still be on Buck’s chest, because he hears a grumbling noise and feels fur tickling his cheek.
Then, Buck’s entire body jolts, his eyes snap wide open, and he sits up, forcing the weight on top of him to fall off his torso onto the bed next to him.
“Eddie?” Buck chokes, eyes welling up with tears again at the sight of Eddie squinting up at him, eyes bleary from sleep, and distinctly human.
It takes him a moment to realize himself, but then Eddie is holding his hands in the air, above his head, and staring at them in awe. A disbelieving chuckle leaves his lips.
“Oh my God,” Buck breathes, and then he bursts out in sobs again. They’re in relief instead of devastation, but Eddie still scrambles up to comfort him, placing both hands on either side of Buck’s face. “Oh my God, oh my God,” he repeats.
Eddie pulls him close, wrapping him in a bone crushing embrace. “I’m here, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
Buck runs his hands along his entire body, proving to himself that Eddie is really there. When he’s finally able to calm himself down, he leans back enough to look at him. Eddie gazes at him fondly, curiously, but Buck can tell he’s also reeling.
“How?” Buck asks, “I mean– what changed? Chris was coming back, but you were still getting worse, and I couldn’t stop it and–”
“It was you,” Eddie cuts him off, “I couldn’t figure it out at first either, but it all started to make sense last night. I was denying myself you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Buck doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to argue, he should just take this for what it is. “I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve always been here.”
“I know,” Eddie says, then wraps a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. He freezes at first, but at the touch of Eddie’s lips he melts into it. It feels like relief. Like coming home. If this is what the universe was demanding they get right, he understands.
Eddie pulls away before it can go any further, his cheeks tinted red. “It’s always been us.”
Buck has to laugh, and cry, and be held by Eddie some more before he’s able to even think about getting out of the bed, but when he does, he makes them both breakfast and cups of coffee that they eat sitting at the table and Eddie doesn’t have to stand on his chair to reach his plate.
And they can talk. So they talk, and talk, and Eddie finally tells Buck what’s been going on in his head. Which means Buck can finally breathe, because he’s okay and Buck didn’t lose him. And they’re back together, on the same page.
He has to kiss Buck senseless at least three more times before he accepts that Eddie’s really there. And then a few more times just for good measure.