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Burnt Steaks and Chopped Carrots

Summary:

Buck's sobs calm down, and his tears stop falling. Eddie pats his back, "Better?"

Buck hums in the crook of Eddie's neck, sending shivers down his back, "Yeah uh, thanks."

"Always."

Buck pulls away, but Eddie keeps him at arms length as his hands fall to his waist. He draws circles on them with his thumbs and keeps his eyes at level with Buck's blue ones. "You hungry?"

Right on queue, Christopher's voice resonates through the house, "Dad? What's that smell?"

OR: Post s9e14, Eddie and Christopher are at Buck's for dinner. What little composer Buck was holding onto finally breaks. Eddie is here to comfort him, and Christopher – to his demise – is a witness.

Notes:

This is my first fic in forever and all my writing in recent years has been film/tv/theatre scripts so do bare with me as my prose is a bit rough for lack of practice.

This fic idea came to me after watching 9x14 and it's been playing in my head ever since so I couldn't take it anymore and thought I'd finally write it.

It's as canon compliant as I could think to make it.

Work Text:

Buck's kitchen is dimly light, soft music coming from the speakers – and Christopher's video game in the living room – as Buck and Eddie work on dinner. Buck is at the kitchen island, chopping up some carrots at the speed that could rival a professional chef and placing them in a bowl. His chopping board is surrounded by olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, and various other spices. 

Eddie's at the stove, warming up a pan as he seasons some steaks. He turns his head every few seconds, his eyes lingering onto Buck's eyes – stealing glances as worry drowns his pupils. "You need help with that?" He asks, because he needs to say something to cut through the silence, but he's no sure what. 

Buck shakes his head, keeping his back to Eddie, "All good here, you worry about those steaks."

There's a glint of humour – of lightness – in his voice that Eddie does not buy. He continues to stare at the back of Buck's head, eyes focusing on his blond curls that look so similar to his own son. His mouth hovers open as if he wants to say something – and he does. There is so much more he wants to say. 

"Shit!" Christopher's muffled shout echoes in the kitchen from the living room. 

Buck chuckles at the sound whilst Eddie's eyebrows furrow, "Christopher! Language!"

"Sorry dad, Denny's cheating!"

"I don't care that he's cheating," Eddie responds as he hovers his hand above the pan to see if it's hot enough. "And five more minutes of playing and then you're coming here to set the table."

"Dinner's not ready," Buck says in a low voice to not interfere with the father-son conversation. 

Eddie nods, "I know but I need him off that screen. He's been playing all weekend."

Buck raises his hand in the defeat, "You're the dad. You know what's best."

Eddie places some olive oil in the pan and then follows with the steaks who sizzle at the contact with the bottom of the pan. Buck's chopping continues to fill up the room. Eddie gnaws at his inner cheeks and jaw, replaying words in his head, unsure of what to say. 

"Hey uh, you sure you're okay," he lands on and instantly regrets. He knows all too well where this is going to go. 

And he's right. Buck lets out a huff, "I told you I'm fine." His tone could rival Christopher's on a bad day. 

"Look I know you said you were fine bu-"

"So why won't you just let it go? You've asked me that question ten times. I was fine ten minutes ago, why would I be any different now?"

"I don't know I guess I'm just waiting for an answer I actually believe." 

Buck sighs, he fishes the last carrot from the counter and furiously starts to peel it. "I'm fine Eddie, okay? I promise."

"If you aren't you know you can talk to me."

"Fuck Eddie, please just let it go. You asking me about it all the time is not fucking helping. I want to forget about it not relive it. Okay?" 

Eddie nods and blinks away the tears he feels are threatening to break. He needs to put on a brave face. He can't show Buck that his tone, and refusal to let Eddie help him – to lean on him – is tearing him apart. He can't because how do you explain to your best friend that the prospect of him leaning on anyone else but him for support is gnawing at him.

Buck angrily chops the last of his carrot, but he does it so quickly and with so much aggression that his fingers slip at the last minute. He chops at the tip of his index finger – right through the nail and part of the skin. "Fuck," he winces dropping the knife and carrot instantly and wrapping his other hand around the finger to contain the pain. 

"What's wrong?" Eddie turns his face around to look at Buck, his eyes widen at the sight of the blood on the chopping board, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, God," Buck says through clenched teeth. He shuts his eyes in pain, trying to blink away the the tears he feels. Buck shakes his head, and removes his hand from his finger to have a look. It's bleeding though not that badly. But the stinging of the sharp knife have poked at the last bit of a thread he was holding onto. He feels his shoulders let go as a sob escapes his lips.

"Buck?!" Eddie asks alarmed, the stove and pan long forgotten as he rushes over to Buck. "How bad is it?" he asks as he stops only an inch behind Buck to try to give him some space. 

"It's nothing," Buck says as he bites at his lips trying to hold back the tears as best as he can. 

Eddie places a soft, comforting, hand on Buck's shoulder and leans over to have a look. It's really not that bad at all. There's barely any blood. "Hey," he says softly, so soft anyone who wasn't where Buck is would miss it, "it's okay." With his hand still on his shoulder, he directs Buck around so he can face Eddie.

Buck's eyes stare at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with Eddie. Eddie brings his other hand to Buck's chin and tilts it up, forcing him to look at him. Buck looks at Eddie. There's a glimmer in his blue eyes – like he's not really all there – and tears at the corners. "It's gonna be okay," Eddie assures him. 

"I can't do this Eddie," Buck says, his voice broken. "I can't do this anymore."

"Then let it out."

It's as if on queue, Buck's tears finally spill out of his eyes. Eddie's hands move to his cheeks, cupping them. His thumbs catching and stroking away his tears.

"I'm sorry."

Eddie feels his lips quiver but he breathes it in, he cannot breakdown too. That's not what Buck needs right now. "You have nothing to apologise for." 

"I've been such an asshole."

"It's okay, I've been worse," Eddie chuckles wiping away another tear. "It's gonna be okay," he repeats, "We'll get through this. I promise you."

Buck's breath hiccups at we. Another sob escapes his lips. It's louder this time. So loud and broken it sends shivers down Eddie's spine. In one swift movement, Eddie pulls Buck into a hug. Buck slumps into the hug, his face finds the crook of Eddie's neck as his tears continue to fall and sobs continue to escape his lips. He wraps his arms around Eddie's back and clings onto the back of his shirt until his knuckles go white. 

Eddie's hands stroke Buck's back up and down in a soothing pattern, "Just let it all out, baby."

They stay like this for a few moments. Buck emptying his body of all the tears and pain he'd been bottling up inside for weeks and Eddie holding onto him – keeping him from completely falling to his feet. 

Christopher walks into the kitchen. He takes one good look at the scene unfolding, "Uh I can come back if this is a bad ti-"

Eddie looks at Christopher and gives him a look that says "do what I told you." Christopher groans and rolls not only his eyes but his neck, "Fine" he huffs and, despite the protests, walks over to the one of the cupboards and pulls out three plates before walking into the living room. 

"Thanks bud," Eddie whispers. 

"Whatever," he retorts. 

Eddie can't help but laugh slightly. He can't even be mad about it. That temper comes from somewhere and it sure as hell isn't from Shannon. 

Buck's sobs calm down, and his tears stop falling. Eddie pats his back, "Better?"

Buck hums in the crook of Eddie's neck, sending shivers down his back, "Yeah uh, thanks."

"Always."

Buck pulls away, but Eddie keeps him at arms length as his hands fall to his waist. He draws circles on them with his thumbs and keeps his eyes at level with Buck's blue ones. "You hungry?"

Right on queue, Christopher's voice resonates through the house, "Dad? What's that smell?"

Eddie's eyes widen, he whips around only to see smoke coming from the stove. "Shit," he groans as he rushes over. He grabs a towel, places it under tap water for a few seconds and then places it on the pan to stop the smoking. "Shit shit shit," he says as he swats away the smoke. 

"Language," Christopher retorts as he walks back into the kitchen. He playful smirk curves his lips. 

"Yeah okay thank you smarty pants. Grab the cutlery."

Christopher laughs, "Hey I'm only reminding you of the importance of language."

Eddie snaps his fingers and points at a drawer, "Cutlery. Now."

Christopher does as he's told, but not without a snickering laugh. He grabs the cutlery and on his way out of the kitchen walks by Buck. He leans over onto Buck's side and gives him a quick, side hug, "You're gonna be okay," he says before walking out – as if this isn't a big deal. 

Buck and Eddie exchange a look, fondness reflecting in both their pair of eyes. 

Eddie shakes his head and a chuckles escapes his lips, "Absolutely not. No more crying."

Buck laughs, "Yeah let's eat."

"Yeah um, about that..." 

Buck walks over. He stands close to Eddie as he inspects the stove, "Well at least we have some carrots."

Eddie can't help but burst out laughing at that. Buck follows. Eddie's eyes crinkle as he glances over at Buck. He brings his hand to Buck's cheek and stroke it gently – faintly – with his thumb, "I've missed that sound."

Buck looks over at Eddie, his lips quivering slightly, "Stop it. You're gonna make me cry again."

Eddie chuckles, he stand on his tip toes and places a chased kiss on Buck's forehead – right next to his birthmark. "Sorry, I'll try not to."

"Gross."

Eddie and Buck turn around to Christopher, stood in the kitchen with three glasses in hand. The most disgusted look anyone has ever had is plastered on his face as his eyes shift between Eddie and Buck. 

"Chris," Eddie warns. 

"It is."

Before Eddie can answer, he makes his way back to the living room, "Why am I even setting the table? You burnt the steak! You had one job dad!"

Buck giggles at that whilst Eddie rolls his eyes, "I swear this kid."

Buck shrugs. He bravely snakes his hand around Eddie's waist and pulls him in until their hips touch, "Like father like son," he whispers into Eddie's ear.