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Everyone has gone home. Well, everyone but Eddie and Chris. It's not that they're not still showing up. They are. But they have lives that need attending. It's just that…Eddie and Chris are here. They're living here. Chris has taken up residence in the guest room, Eddie the couch. They have suitcases for Christ's sake; they're doing laundry!
It's been…Buck isn't sure entirely, but he's pretty sure it's been almost two weeks. And he's just leaking. Everywhere. He's throwing up and sitting on the toilet for hours a day. The sweating has mostly subsided, but Eddie's only managed to get him to agree to wash his rank ass hoodie a few times in this whole time. He's gross and he's tired of it.
Someone else should be here soon to swap out with Eddie, he's pretty sure. Maddie, if he's right. Eddie's got a shift soon, but he's still insisted on making breakfast for Buck and Chris before he leaves. He's been doing that a lot. Buck misses cooking. Soon, he thinks. He'll be back to it soon.
Right now, he and Chris are out on the back patio playing rummy again, enjoying the weak rays of early Saturday morning sun just barely peaking through the wood slats of Buck's fence.
"Chris," Buck says, cards in his hand clutched much tighter than the last time they were out here together, glancing in at Eddie bopping around the kitchen, humming along to some music in Spanish that Buck doesn't know but recognizes from Eddie playing it enough.
"Don't let me win this time," Chris smirks at him.
"No," Buck smirks back, "if you beat me, it'll be hard-won this time."
"Good," Chris snickers.
"Chris," Buck says again, and this time Chris's eyes snap up to him.
"Yeah?"
"A couple of weeks ago…" He's not sure how to say this. He feels dumb, withdraw-addled, making a mountain of a mole hill. "Something you said, it keeps rattling around in my brain."
"What did I say?" Chris reaches for a card a few back from the top of the discard pile, adding them all to his current hand.
"'Sucks to have people touching your stuff,'" Buck parrots back, the words crystal clear in his mind as he takes a sip from the orange Gatorlyte that Eddie made sure to hand him as soon as he woke up—gotta keep up your fluids, Buckley.
He's not sure of a lot of things. But those words he's sure of. And he doesn't know why they've stuck around so long, a fog that won't lift.
"Well, it does," Chris shrugs, setting down a straight of hearts—6, 7, 8, and 9—on the table in front of him.
Chris actually is winning this game, even with Buck's competitiveness rearing its head. He already has all four kings laid out and three more runs too. Buck's got to get locked in if he wants to show Chris he's really not letting the kid win just because he loves him.
Buck winds up pulling an ace of spades from the deck, knowing his goofy face is giving away something as he slots it next to the ace of diamonds and ace of hearts in his hand. Then, he places the set of 3 on the table in front of him.
Chris snorts and shakes his head. "Okay, now I know you're taking this seriously," he jokes.
"Told ya I was in it to win it," Buck snorts, discarding a three of clubs.
They lapse into a silence for a few seconds, playing their turns and just watching each other, enjoying the loud tweeting of birds in the trees above.
"Why did you say that?" Buck says, bringing it back to the thing he really wanted to talk about.
"What?" Chris says, rightfully confused as he discards a 2 of hearts.
"The people touching your stuff thing. Did…did something happen?"
Chris's face morphs into something serious, his features settling as he fiddles with the three cards remaining in his hand.
"Not with Dad, don't worry," Chris says, vague, eyes flicking to the kitchen.
"I wasn't worried about him. Was it at school?" Buck pushes, knowing he's on borrowed time with this line of questioning.
Chris shakes his head.
Then it hits him. Texas. Helena.
Chris and Buck haven't talked about that time much. He's thankful that Eddie and Chris seem to have. And that makes sense. That's father and son. Buck isn't afforded that same right.
"Was it…um," Buck stops himself, glancing back toward Eddie, blissfully ignorant of what's happening just out of his ear shot. "Never mind. I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."
Chris huffs, frustrated. "It was my grandma," he says, almost offhand, like it's nothing.
Buck blinks, not sure how to take it. He nods. "Okay," he says, feeling words get stuck in his throat. He sips his Gatorlyte to try to ease that tension. "I'm sorry."
Chris nods. "Me too. I'm…I'm still not entirely sure what she was looking for. I think she thought…I don't know. You know a lot of kids vape at school and stuff."
Buck did know that. They've been dispatched to nearby schools a couple of times for OD's and seizures and similar calls.
"Right," Buck agrees.
"Even at the private schools," Chris continues.
"Especially at the private schools," Buck snorts.
Chris chuckles at that. "Yeah, but not me. I know better."
"I'm glad," Buck smiles at him, as sincere as he can considering the whole reason Chris is here in the first place. "Your dad taught you well."
"My dad and my Buck," Chris says, the words lancing through Buck's chest.
If asked, he'll blame the watery eyes on his detoxing, but really he's just kind of crying.
"You know if you had been, your dad would still love you."
Chris nods.
"I know. You would too," he agrees.
Buck gives Chris that watery smile, the one he's been giving everyone for weeks. Maybe he was going to say some other stuff, maybe not, but at that second, Eddie emerges with a serving tray with bacon and eggs and a couple of coffees and three orange juices balanced on it.
"Breakfast, gentlemen," he says, big smile over his face.
He only falters for a second when Buck turns to him. Buck knows Eddie can read his face, knows almost everything Buck's thinking just by reading the curves and lines of Buck's features. He's pretty sure Eddie can tell he's just stumbled into something emotional.
Still, Eddie sets the tray down and takes a seat next to Buck.
"We're talking about how Grandma went through my stuff in El Paso," Chris announces, shocking Buck at his candor.
Eddie nods, starting to divvy out plates and food. "What brought that up?" He says, focusing more on not spilling coffee as he sets the mug in front of Buck, careful not to place it over any of the sets Buck's placed on the glass top for the game of rummy.
"I think he was still thinking about when you guys went through his stuff a couple of weeks ago," Chris supplies, already biting into a piece of bacon before he can even be served.
Eddie gives him a slightly peeved look for the bacon but doesn't push.
"I'm sorry, Buck," Eddie says, setting the tray on the empty chair next to Chris. "I didn't want to."
Buck waves him off. "You guys were just doing what you had to. I'm not upset about it. Chris just…made an offhand comment about it that I couldn't get out of my head."
Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. "The vapes," he says by way of explanation. "She was so concerned that Chris was doing it."
"I'm sorry, Chris," Buck says, still not sure what to do here. He probably shouldn't have opened that can of worms.
Chris shrugs, now digging into the scrambled eggs. "She was just doing what she thought was best for me."
It lingers. It's uncomfortable. The whole thing is uncomfortable. It feels more like this is a family matter and Buck shouldn't be involved, but Chris and Eddie have let him in, explaining it simply and easily like Buck is part of the conversation.
"Sometimes it's hard to know what's right," Buck says, sipping at the black coffee Eddie'd poured for him.
It sucks and it's bitter. It perks him up a little anyway.
"Oh!" Eddie says suddenly, jumping from his seat.
Both Buck and Chris watch him dart back into the house in bafflement. But then, he jobs back out with sweating bottle of Buck's favorite oatmilk creamer.
"Almost forgot this," Eddie says, sitting back in his chair and putting the creamer in front of Buck.
Buck knows Eddie loves him. He knows it. He's seen it over and over and over and over and over. Somehow, this is what tips Buck over the edge. Eddie loves him. Like…really loves him. And they're going to have to talk about it. Not right now, not while Buck is still down in the muck and mire. But soon. Because holy shit. Buck loves him too. Overwhelmingly. But it's numbed by how shitty he physically feels right now.
The point would have been moot anyway, because that's when Maddie comes crashing through the door with Jee-Yun leading the charge and Nash held on her hip.
"Hello Diazes!" Maddie calls and Buck knows she doesn't mean him too, but it still strikes like lightening. "Hi Buck!"
"Hi Mads!" Buck calls back.
Then, the Hans are out on the patio and they're all greeting one another. Buck rarely gets to see Eddie and Maddie interact, but they're soft with each other right now because it's about Buck. Family. That's the only word floating in his head.
"I gotta head out soon," Eddie admits, shoving more bacon in his mouth. "You got this, Maddie?"
She laughs. "You know I do, Eddie." And she pulls him into a hug. A real one.
Buck's heart squeezes.
"Be good," Eddie calls over his shoulder as he rushes back into the house, ostensibly to change into his uniform.
"I will!" Chris hollers back.
"I was talking to Buck," Eddie smirks over his shoulder, standing in Buck's living room like he belongs there.
Eddie loves him. He loves Eddie.
Buck catches the softness on Maddie's face when he looks back to her. Oh. She knows. She's probably always known—it wouldn't be so crazy. Buck feels a little silly, but he hugs her on the side not occupied by Nash even as Jee-Yun tries to climb onto Buck's lap and holler for his attention.
"Thanks for coming, Maddie," Buck says over his niece.
"Always," she tells him, taking Eddie's seat. "Always."