Chapter Text
HOSPITAL
"You're hovering."
"I'm not hovering."
"Buck." Eddie's voice is rough from the oxygen mask they'd had on him twenty minutes ago. "You're literally hovering."
Buck looks down. He's standing over Eddie's hospital bed, one hand gripping the rail hard enough that his knuckles have gone white. "I'm just—"
"Hovering," Hen supplies from the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "He's been doing it since the RA unit. Chim had to physically pull him back so the paramedics could work."
"I was giving them space."
"You were in the rig with us, Buck."
"That's—" Buck releases the rail, takes one step back. Then another. His hands don't know what to do so they end up shoved in his pockets. "How's your head?"
Eddie touches the bandage wrapped around his skull, winces. "Like I got hit by scaffolding."
"That's because you did get hit by scaffolding."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
Hen snorts. "He's fine. Concussion, some bruising, ego slightly dented. Doctor Salazar's doing the official assessment now but—" She checks her watch. "Bobby wants us back at the station. You coming?"
"I'll stay," Buck says. Too fast. Too automatic.
Hen's mouth curves. "Yeah. I figured."
"Someone should stay. Until we know—"
"Uh-huh."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Buck." She pushes off the doorframe. "Absolutely nothing. Text us when you know more."
She leaves. Buck turns back to Eddie, who's watching him with an expression Buck can't quite read.
"You don't have to stay," Eddie says.
"I know."
"Hen can—"
"I'm staying."
Eddie studies him for a long moment. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay." Eddie's mouth curves slightly. "But you gotta stop hovering. You're making me nervous."
"I'm making you nervous?"
"Yeah. It's weird. You're never nervous."
"I'm—" Buck stops. Breathes. Sits down in the plastic chair next to the bed because if he doesn't sit he's going to start pacing. "How's your vision? Any nausea? Dizziness?"
"Buck."
"What?"
"I'm okay." Eddie reaches out—slow, deliberate—and wraps his fingers around Buck's wrist. His thumb finds Buck's pulse point. "See? You're the one whose heart is racing."
Buck stares at Eddie's hand on his wrist. At Eddie's thumb pressed against his pulse. "That's—"
The door swings open. Doctor Salazar walks in with a tablet and a professional smile. Eddie pulls his hand back.
"Mr. Diaz. Let's talk about your CT results."
---
[118 FAMILY - 2:47 PM]
HEN: Update: CT is clear. Moderate concussion. They're releasing him.
CHIMNEY: Who's taking him home?
HEN: Three guesses.
CHIMNEY: Buck's still there?
HEN: Buck hasn't left the room since we got here.
BOBBY: He was scheduled off today anyway.
CHIMNEY: Cap, he wasn't scheduled off. He CALLED off. Four hours ago. Right after the injury.
BOBBY: ...
HEN: You didn't know?
BOBBY: I assumed he was already off.
CHIMNEY: NOPE. He literally told dispatch "family emergency" and bolted.
HEN: 👀
CHIMNEY: 👀👀
BOBBY: We're not doing this.
HEN: Doing what?
BOBBY: Whatever this is. They're partners. Partners look out for each other.
CHIMNEY: Partners don't usually call in family emergencies for each other.
BOBBY: ...
CHIMNEY: Just saying.
HEN: How much you wanna bet Buck stays the full 48 hours?
CHIMNEY: That's not even a bet. That's a guarantee.
BOBBY: We are NOT betting on our people.
CHIMNEY: You're right. That would be inappropriate.
CHIMNEY: $20 says they don't make it past Sunday before someone says something.
HEN: Before BUCK says something? $50.
BOBBY: I'm leaving this conversation.
CHIMNEY: That's not a no, Cap.
BOBBY: ...
BOBBY: $30 on Monday morning.
HEN: BOBBY NASH.
BOBBY: What? I'm being realistic.
---
EDDIE'S HOUSE - AFTERNOON
Christopher's homework is spread across the kitchen table when they get home. He looks up when the door opens, face lighting up.
"Dad!"
Eddie's smiling as he crouches down—Buck's hand shoots out to steady him, automatic—and Christopher crashes into him for a hug.
"Hey, mijo."
"What happened to your head?"
"Just a little accident at work. I'm fine."
Christopher pulls back, suspicious. "Buck? Is he really fine?"
"Yeah, buddy. He just needs to rest for a couple days."
"Are you staying?"
Buck glances at Eddie. Eddie's still crouched, one hand on Christopher's shoulder for balance, watching Buck with those dark eyes.
"Doctor's orders," Buck says. "Someone's gotta make sure your dad doesn't do anything stupid."
"I never do anything stupid," Eddie protests.
Christopher and Buck look at each other.
"Remember the roof?" Christopher says.
"That was one time—"
"And the ladder?"
"Okay—"
"And the time you tried to fix the garbage disposal yourself?"
"Alright, I get it." Eddie stands up—Buck's hand is still on his elbow—and ruffles Christopher's hair. "You two are ganging up on me already?"
"Yep," Christopher says cheerfully. Then, to Buck: "Can you help me with my homework? It's for social studies."
"Sure. What's the assignment?"
Christopher holds up a worksheet. "We have to interview someone about what family means."
Buck's chest does something complicated. "Yeah. Yeah, I can help with that."
Eddie's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, frowns. "It's Abuela. I should—"
"Go," Buck says. "I got this."
Eddie hesitates. His gaze holds Buck's for a beat too long. "Thanks."
"Where else would I be?"
Something flickers across Eddie's face. But Christopher's already tugging Buck toward the table, so Buck doesn't get to figure out what it was.
---
COOKING TOGETHER
"Absolutely not."
"Buck—"
"No. Sit down. You have a concussion."
"It's pasta. I think I can handle boiling water."
"You burned cereal last week."
Eddie's jaw drops. "That was—how did you—"
"Christopher told me." Buck points the wooden spoon at him. "Sit. Down."
"I'm not an invalid."
"Eddie, you got hit in the head by scaffolding six hours ago. Sit down before I make you sit down."
Eddie's eyebrow goes up. "Make me?"
The kitchen goes very quiet.
Buck's brain short-circuits for a second because Eddie's looking at him with this expression and they're standing very close and—
"BUCK!" Christopher yells from the living room. "How do you spell 'trust'?"
Buck blinks. Steps back. "T-R-U-S-T!"
"Thanks!"
Eddie's mouth is curved in a small smile. "You were saying?"
"I was—you should—" Buck gestures vaguely at the kitchen table. "Just let me cook, okay?"
"Okay." Eddie sits. Watches Buck pull out the pasta, the sauce, the vegetables. "You know where everything is."
It's not a question.
"Yeah," Buck says quietly. "I know."
They're quiet for a minute. Buck chops an onion. Eddie's fingers tap against the table.
"Christopher seems good," Buck says. "With the homework."
"Yeah. He's been working on it all week." Eddie pauses. "He asked me first. To interview."
Buck's hands still on the knife. "Yeah?"
"I told him to ask you instead."
"Why?"
Eddie's quiet for so long that Buck turns around. Eddie's looking at him with that expression again—the one Buck can never quite read.
"Because," Eddie says finally, "you'd give him a better answer than me."
"That's not—"
The front door swings open. Chimney's voice carries through the house: "Special delivery from Athena!"
Buck and Eddie stare at each other for one more second. Then Chimney's in the kitchen, carrying enough casserole dishes to feed an army.
"She heard about the injury," Chimney says, setting everything on the counter. "And you know Athena. Cooking is love." He looks between them. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," Buck and Eddie say simultaneously.
Chimney's grin is absolutely evil. "Right. Sure. Well, I'll just—" He spots Christopher in the living room. "Hey, Superman! You helping Buck take care of your dad?"
"Yep! Buck's staying over!"
"Is he now." Chimney's grin gets wider. "For how long?"
"Forty-eight hours," Eddie says. His ears are pink. "Medical observation."
"Medical observation. Right." Chimney's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, types something, then looks up at them with barely contained glee. "Well, I'll leave you two to your... observation."
He's out the door before either of them can respond.
Buck turns back to the stove. His face is burning.
Behind him, Eddie sighs. "He's texting the group chat, isn't he."
"Oh, definitely."
---
CHIMNEY: REPORT FROM THE FIELD
CHIMNEY: Buck is cooking dinner
CHIMNEY: Eddie is watching him cook
CHIMNEY: The TENSION you guys
HEN: Elaborate.
CHIMNEY: They did that thing where they both say the same thing at the same time
CHIMNEY: And then they STARED at each other
CHIMNEY: For like ten whole seconds
HEN: Oh my god.
CHIMNEY: Christopher said Buck is staying over
CHIMNEY: Both of them turned RED
BOBBY: Chimney, are you running surveillance on our people?
CHIMNEY: I'm not running surveillance. I'm making a casserole delivery.
CHIMNEY: The surveillance is just a bonus.
HEN: What's Buck making?
CHIMNEY: Pasta. From scratch.
CHIMNEY: He knows where Eddie keeps everything.
HEN: ...
CHIMNEY: EVERYTHING. Spices, pans, the fancy olive oil Eddie doesn't let anyone touch.
HEN: Oh they're so gone.
BOBBY: I'm going to pretend I'm not reading this.
CHIMNEY: Sure you are, Cap.
CHIMNEY: Sure you are.
---
Buck wakes up to a sound.
Not loud. Not a shout. Just—a noise. Sharp and wrong and it punches through his sleep like an alarm.
He's off the couch and down the hall before his brain fully catches up.
Eddie's door is cracked open. Buck pushes through.
Eddie's tangled in the sheets, breathing hard. His hands are fisted and his face is—
"Eddie." Buck crosses to the bed. "Hey. Wake up."
Eddie doesn't wake. His breath comes faster.
"Eddie." Buck sits on the edge of the bed, hand on Eddie's shoulder. Firm. "Come on. You're safe. Wake up."
Eddie's eyes snap open. Wild. Unfocused. His hand shoots out and grabs Buck's wrist hard enough to bruise.
"Hey, hey—" Buck doesn't pull away. "It's me. It's Buck. You're home."
Eddie blinks. Once. Twice. Focus returns slowly.
"Buck?"
"Yeah. You were having a nightmare."
Eddie's still gripping Buck's wrist. His pulse is hammering—Buck can feel it where their skin touches.
"Sorry," Eddie says roughly. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't." Buck shifts closer. His free hand finds Eddie's wrist, thumb pressing against his pulse point. Counting. "Just breathe."
Eddie breathes. Buck counts.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.
Eddie's pulse slows. Gradually. His grip loosens but he doesn't let go.
"What was it?" Buck asks quietly. "The nightmare?"
Eddie's quiet for a long moment. "You weren't there."
Buck's chest tightens. "Where?"
"At the site. When the scaffolding came down." Eddie's voice is rough. Raw. "I called for you and you weren't—no one came."
"But I was there."
"I know." Eddie's thumb moves against Buck's wrist. Deliberate. "I know you were."
They sit there. The house is quiet except for Eddie's breathing evening out. Buck's thumb is still on Eddie's pulse.
"Do you—" Eddie stops. Starts again. "Will you stay?"
"Yeah." Buck doesn't hesitate. "Yeah, of course."
He means to sit in the chair by the window. He really does.
But Eddie doesn't let go of his wrist.
So Buck lies down on top of the covers. Careful. Leaving space between them.
Eddie turns on his side, facing him.
"Thanks," Eddie murmurs.
"Stop thanking me."
Eddie's mouth curves slightly. "Can't help it."
His eyes drift closed. His breathing evens out.
Buck stays awake. Watching. Making sure.
His thumb still resting on Eddie's pulse.
---
Buck wakes up to sunlight and the smell of burning.
He's off the bed and in the kitchen in under ten seconds.
Eddie's at the stove, spatula in hand, staring at a pan of what might have once been eggs. Christopher's at the table, looking resigned.
"Eddie."
Eddie turns. His hair is sticking up on one side. His bandage is slightly askew. He's holding the spatula like a weapon. "I can make breakfast."
"The eggs are black."
"They're not black. They're—well done."
"Eddie."
"Fine." Eddie sets down the spatula. "They're black."
Christopher sighs dramatically. "I told him Buck would make better pancakes."
"Traitor," Eddie says, but he's smiling.
Buck moves to the stove, surveys the damage. "How did you even—never mind. I don't want to know." He scrapes the eggs into the trash. "Pancakes?"
"Please," Christopher says.
Eddie's still standing there, looking slightly sheepish. "I wanted to—you've been doing everything. I thought—"
"Eddie." Buck turns to face him. "You have a concussion. You're not supposed to be doing anything."
"It's been almost forty-eight hours."
"Forty-two," Buck corrects. "And you heard what the doctor said. Rest."
"I am resting."
"Burning eggs isn't resting."
Christopher giggles. Eddie's ears go pink.
"Go sit down," Buck says. Softer. "Let me make breakfast. Please."
Eddie holds his gaze for a moment. Then nods. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah." Eddie's mouth curves. "Okay."
He sits at the table next to Christopher. Buck pulls out the pancake mix. Christopher starts telling a story about something that happened at school. Eddie listens, asks questions, smiles.
Buck watches them while he cooks. Father and son. Easy and comfortable and right.
His chest feels tight.
"Buck?" Christopher's looking at him. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, buddy."
"For my homework. The family project." Christopher's got his pencil ready. "What does family mean to you?"
Buck's hands still on the mixing bowl.
Eddie's looking at him. Buck can feel it.
"Family," Buck says slowly, "is the people who show up. Even when they don't have to. Even when it's hard." He glances at Eddie. Eddie's watching him with dark, unreadable eyes. "It's the people who know where you keep the coffee filters. Who know how you take your eggs. Who—" His voice catches slightly. "Who stay."
Christopher writes this down carefully.
Eddie hasn't looked away.
"Thanks, Buck," Christopher says. "That's good."
"Yeah," Eddie says quietly. "It is."
Buck turns back to the pancakes before Eddie can see his face.
His phone buzzes on the counter.
---
[118 FAMILY - 8:15 AM]
HEN: Status report?
CHIMNEY: It's Sunday morning and you want a status report?
HEN: I want to know if I won the bet.
CHIMNEY: Excuse me, but we agreed Monday. I have faith in Buck's obliviousness.
HEN: Fifty bucks says something happens today.
BOBBY: I already put money on Monday. Don't make me regret this.
CHIMNEY: Cap, you're supposed to be the responsible one.
BOBBY: I'm being realistic. They're both stubborn.
HEN: @Buck you alive over there?
BUCK: Making pancakes.
HEN: At Eddie's house.
BUCK: Where else would I be?
HEN: ...
CHIMNEY: ...
BOBBY: ...
HEN: Buck.
BUCK: What?
HEN: Do you hear yourself?
BUCK: I'm making pancakes? I don't understand the question.
CHIMNEY: Of course you don't.
BUCK: What's that supposed to mean?
BOBBY: Nothing, Buck. Enjoy your pancakes.
CHIMNEY: "Where else would I be" he says
CHIMNEY: As if that's a normal thing to say
CHIMNEY: About someone else's house
HEN: I'm gonna need more coffee for this.
---
Buck stares at his phone. Then at Eddie, who's helping Christopher with his homework.
Eddie glances up, catches him looking. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Buck says. "Everything's fine."
Eddie's mouth curves. "You sure?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one you get when you're overthinking something." Eddie stands up, moves to the coffee pot. Pours two cups without asking. Hands one to Buck. Black, no sugar. Exactly how Buck takes it.
Their fingers brush.
Buck's heart does something complicated.
"Thanks," he manages.
"Where else would I be?" Eddie says softly. Deliberately.
Buck stares at him.
Eddie stares back.
Christopher, oblivious, keeps working on his homework.
"Eddie—"
Eddie's phone rings. He glances at it, sighs. "It's Bobby. I should—"
"Yeah. Yeah, of course."
Eddie steps into the other room. Buck stands there in the kitchen, holding his coffee, trying to figure out what just happened.
His phone buzzes again.
---
[118 FAMILY - 8:47 AM]
HEN: Well?
BUCK: Well what?
HEN: Did something happen?
BUCK: No? We're having breakfast?
CHIMNEY: Buck I swear to god
BUCK: WHAT
BOBBY: Leave him alone. Let the man eat his pancakes in peace.
HEN: Bobby you have money on this too
BOBBY: I'm being supportive.
CHIMNEY: You're being strategic.
CHIMNEY: Also Buck
BUCK: What now
CHIMNEY: Eddie knows how you take your coffee
BUCK: So?
CHIMNEY: So he made it without asking
BUCK: He's seen me drink coffee before?
HEN: BUCK.
BUCK: I don't understand why everyone's being weird!
CHIMNEY: We're not being weird. You're being oblivious.
BUCK: About what?!
BOBBY: Okay that's enough. Everyone back to your Sunday.
HEN: Aye aye Cap.
CHIMNEY: My Sunday includes winning fifty bucks tomorrow.
BUCK: I hate all of you.
HEN: No you don't ❤️
BUCK: ...no I don't.
---
Eddie comes back into the kitchen. "Bobby says hi. Wants to know if we need anything."
"We're good."
"Yeah." Eddie leans against the counter. Studies Buck. "We are."
There's something in the way he says it. Something weighted.
Buck opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Eddie—"
"Dad!" Christopher calls from the table. "Can you check my spelling?"
The moment breaks.
Eddie pushes off the counter. "Yeah, mijo. Let me see."
Buck watches them. Watches Eddie lean over Christopher's shoulder, pointing at words, smiling when Christopher gets them right.
His phone buzzes one more time.
---
[PRIVATE: HEN]
HEN: You okay over there?
BUCK: I don't know.
HEN: What's going on?
BUCK: Nothing. Everything. I don't know.
HEN: Buck.
BUCK: He made me coffee. Without asking. And he said "where else would I be" like it was—like it meant something.
HEN: And?
BUCK: And I don't know what to do with that.
HEN: Maybe you don't have to do anything with it. Maybe you just... feel it.
BUCK: That's terrifying.
HEN: Yeah. It usually is.
BUCK: What if I'm wrong? What if I'm reading this all wrong?
HEN: Are you?
BUCK: ...I don't think so.
HEN: Then maybe stop thinking and just see what happens.
BUCK: When did you get so wise?
HEN: I've always been wise. You just never listen.
BUCK: Fair.
HEN: Buck. Stop overthinking.
BUCK: Easier said than done.
HEN: I know. But try anyway.
---
Buck sets down his phone. Looks at Eddie and Christopher at the table. At the pancakes on the stove. At the coffee cup in his hand that Eddie made exactly right without asking.
At this house that feels more like home than his apartment ever has.
"Buck?" Christopher's looking at him. "Are you gonna eat with us?"
"Yeah, buddy." Buck brings the pancakes to the table. Sits down next to Eddie. "Yeah, I am."
Eddie's knee bumps his under the table.
Buck bumps back.
Christopher starts talking about his project. Eddie listens. Buck pretends to listen while his brain spins through everything that's happened in the last forty-eight hours.
The nightmare. The coffee. The way Eddie looks at him when he thinks Buck isn't paying attention.
Where else would I be?
His phone buzzes. He ignores it.
For now, he's here. At Eddie's table. With Eddie's son. Drinking Eddie's coffee.
---
[118 FAMILY - 9:15 AM]
CHIMNEY: Update: No confession yet.
HEN: It's not even 10am, Chim.
CHIMNEY: I'm just saying. My money's still safe.
BOBBY: This is inappropriate and we should all be ashamed.
BOBBY: That said, I'm still on Monday.
HEN: BOBBY.
BOBBY: What? I know my people.
CHIMNEY: This is why you're the captain, Cap.
HEN: This is why we're all going to HR.
BOBBY: Athena can't know about this.
CHIMNEY: Too late. She started the pool.
BOBBY: ...what?
HEN: Oh yeah. She's got Thursday.
BOBBY: My wife is betting on our coworkers' love lives.
CHIMNEY: Your wife is WINNING.
BOBBY: I need to rethink my life choices.
---
Buck's helping Christopher clean up the breakfast dishes when the doorbell rings.
"I'll get it," Eddie says, already moving toward the door.
Buck hears a familiar voice—older, warm, speaking rapid Spanish. He glances at Christopher.
"That's Abuelo," Christopher says. "Dad's dad."
Buck's stomach does something weird. He wipes his hands on the towel, suddenly very aware that he's been at Eddie's house.
Ramon appears in the kitchen doorway, Eddie behind him. He's carrying a paper bag that smells like his wife's cooking.
"Buck!" Ramon's face lights up. "Good to see you. Eddie told me you've been taking care of him."
"Just—you know. Making sure he follows doctor's orders."
"Which he never does." Ramon sets the bag on the counter, starts unpacking containers. "I told Isabel I would stay today. Give you a break."
Buck's mouth opens. Closes. "I—yeah, but—"
"You must have things to do. Your own place." Ramon's smile is kind but firm. "I can take the afternoon shift."
Eddie's standing in the doorway, expression carefully neutral. "Dad, Buck doesn't have to—"
"I know he doesn't have to. But he should rest too." Ramon looks at Buck. "Unless you don't trust me with my own son?"
"No, of course not. I just—" Buck glances at Eddie. Eddie's jaw is tight. "I mean, if you're sure—"
"I'm sure. You've done more than enough, mijo."
The word—mijo—lands strange. Warm but wrong. Buck nods slowly. "Okay. Yeah. I should probably..." He gestures vaguely toward the door.
"Buck—" Eddie starts.
"It's fine." Buck's already moving, already grabbing his keys from the counter. "Your dad's right. You're in good hands." He looks at Christopher. "See you later, buddy."
"Bye, Buck!" Christopher waves, already showing Abuelo his homework.
Eddie follows Buck to the door. They stand there in the entryway, too close and too far away at the same time.
"You don't have to go," Eddie says quietly.
"Your dad's here. You don't need—" Buck stops. "I should go home. Check on my place."
"Right. Yeah." Eddie's hands are in his pockets. "Thanks. For staying."
"Where else would I—" Buck cuts himself off. "Yeah. No problem."
Eddie's eyes darken. "Buck."
"I'll see you Monday. At the station."
"Buck—"
But Buck's already out the door. Already in his Jeep. Already driving away.
He makes it three blocks before his chest starts feeling tight.
---
Buck's apartment is exactly how he left it.
Which is to say: barely lived in.
There's dust on the coffee table. The fridge has milk that expired four days ago. His bed is made because he hasn't slept in it in a week.
He stands in the middle of his living room and tries to remember the last time this place felt like home.
Can't.
His phone buzzes.
EDDIE: You make it home okay?
Buck stares at the text. Types and deletes three responses before settling on:
BUCK: Yeah. All good.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
EDDIE: Christopher keeps asking when you're coming back.
BUCK: Tell him soon.
EDDIE: What about you?
Buck's thumb hovers over the keyboard.
BUCK: What about me?
EDDIE: When are YOU coming back?
BUCK: Eddie...
EDDIE: Never mind. Forget I asked.
BUCK: I'll see you tomorrow.
EDDIE: Yeah. Tomorrow.
Buck sets his phone down. Stares at his apartment. At the space that should feel like his but doesn't.
His phone buzzes again.
EDDIE: For what it's worth
EDDIE: It's too quiet here without you.
Buck's chest aches. He picks up his phone.
BUCK: Yeah. Same here.
---
[118 FAMILY - 5:32 PM]
HEN: Status check. Where's Buck?
CHIMNEY: My sources say he went home.
HEN: Your sources?
CHIMNEY: Ramon showed up. Took over Buck's shift.
BOBBY: Ramon's his father. Of course he'd take over.
CHIMNEY: Yeah but did you SEE Buck's face when he left?
HEN: You were there?
CHIMNEY: No but Eddie texted me.
HEN: Eddie TEXTED you? About Buck's face?
CHIMNEY: He said, and I quote, "Buck left. House feels weird."
BOBBY: That's not exactly—
CHIMNEY: HOUSE FEELS WEIRD, Cap.
HEN: Oh my god they're both miserable.
CHIMNEY: It's been four hours.
BOBBY: Maybe we should stay out of this.
HEN: You literally have money on this.
BOBBY: That's different.
CHIMNEY: How is that different?
BOBBY: It's... I don't know. It just is.
HEN: Very convincing, Cap.