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Chris was so happy to be back home. He liked El Paso, sure. But not enough to live there full time. The friends he made felt temporary. Like they were friends of convenience. It didn’t help that he spent most of his nights on a discord call with his friends back in L.A.
Maybe he just didn’t let himself get too comfortable.
It doesn’t matter now anyway. Him and Dad had been home for months now. Chris barely had to unpack and rearrange his room because Buck kept it all the same.
“I never doubted for a second that you wouldn’t come home,” Buck had said to him quietly one night during that first week home. And Buck had looked at Chris with… Well, Chris couldn’t place the emotion, but he’d seen that look on his own dad before.
There had been moments over the years where Chris couldn’t explain Buck’s place in his life. When he was little he thought of Buck as his best friend. He loved Buck. A lot. And Chris knew his dad did too. Chris knew that there was no one Eddie trusted more in this world than Buck. Which in turn made Chris trust him pretty implicitly.
Chris didn’t think much about it until one of his friends in El Paso had asked about Buck. Because of course all of Chris’s cool stories involved either his dad or Buck.
“Who’s Buck? One of your uncles?” the girl, Clara, had asked. She was Chris’s favorite of his new friends. She never questioned him when he said he could do something. And she laughed at all his shitty jokes.
“No, he’s my…” Chris trailed off, realizing he didn’t know how to quantify his relationship with Buck.
“He’s my dad’s best friend. We just –” Chris had shrugged, finally finding the words. “We just spend a lot of time together.”
So now Chris realized that maybe Buck wasn’t exactly his best friend. He was definitely his dad’s best friend, but what did that make Chris? They definitely had a closer relationship than “my best friend’s kid.” Chris also didn’t understand why he disliked the idea of calling Buck his uncle. At first he thought it was maybe he didn’t want to call the rest of the 118 his extended aunts and uncles. But when he thought about calling Hen and Karen his aunts, he didn’t feel like it was wrong. It didn’t feel wrong to call his dad’s friends his aunts or uncles. Or even just explain that they were his dad’s coworkers. So why did it feel like a disservice to call Buck one of his dad’s coworkers? Or even to call him Uncle Buck? Because for all intents and purposes, that should be who Buck is to Christopher.
But he’s always been so much more.
Chris put off examining that feeling too closely until one day his dad knocked on his door. Chris was busy finishing up his chemistry homework when he looked up and saw his dad nervously standing in his doorframe. He watched as his dad took a small but steadying breath — trying to make himself appear a lot more solid than he felt.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” Chris asked.
“It’s Buck,” Eddie had said quickly. That made Chris sit up a bit more.
“Did he get hurt again?”
“No, uh. He…” his dad trailed off, looking somewhere off in the distance. Chris could tell his dad was trying to gather his thoughts so he could speak deliberately. It’s something that Chris had been trying to implement in his own life. Thinking before he speaks.
“He’s been struggling,” Eddie said slowly. “When he was in the hospital after what happened in New Mexico, they prescribed him some really strong painkillers. And it’s been hard for him to… wean himself off them.”
Oh. That… made sense. He didn't want it to make sense, but it did. Everyone had been affected by Bobby’s death. Chris had even had a hard time adjusting to his absence. He couldn't imagine what the rest of the firehouse had been like. He couldn't imagine what Buck had been going through. Chris realized in that moment it would be like if he lost his dad; lost his dad for real and not just ran away from him because he was mad at him. Suddenly, he felt stupid for ever doing that. But Chris tossed the thought away for now. This wasn't about him. This was about Buck.
“Then we should be with him,” Chris said as he shut his chemistry textbook and moved to get up.
“Chris,” Eddie said in that tone of voice that Chris hated. The one where he knew his dad was about to say something he didn't like.
“He…” His dad hesitated again. “He’s really struggling. He might not be the best host.”
“I’m not asking him to play host,” Chris retorted quickly. “If he’s going through withdrawals then he needs us there.” So much for thinking before he speaks.
His dad looked stunned for a moment before he huffed out a small laugh.
“Yeah, you’re right. He does need us there,” Eddie said. Chris nodded and went back to packing up his backpack with anything he might need for the next few days. “I arranged a schedule for everyone to take turns taking care of him.” Of course his dad would do that for Buck.
“And you’re not going there without me,” Chris said. “I want to be there for him like he’s been there for me. He’s my…” Chris trailed off, remembering that he didn't know what to call Buck.
Chris looked back up to his dad and saw the emotion plain on his face. The worry. The compassion. The love. All for Buck.
“He’s my Buck,” Chris settled on.
Eddie let out a wet laugh.
“There isn’t an easy way to describe Buck to us, is there?” his dad whispered. Eddie sat down on the edge of Chris’ bed and patted it, signaling to Chris to sit down with him. Chris set down his things and sat on the bed next to his dad. He sat closely and pressed himself into Eddie. He knew his dad would never ask for physical comfort but he’d seen Buck do it plenty of times. Not just with his dad but with himself as well. The older Chris gets the harder it becomes for him to ask for things that feel childish. But he never has to ask Buck. He just does it.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Chris admitted. Eddie brought one of his hands up to rub Christopher’s back, right between his shoulder blades. It’s where his dad’s hands always settled when he’s trying to comfort Chris. Maybe he did it to comfort himself too.
“Yeah?” his dad asked with a neutral tone. Chris couldn't detect any judgement. Just curiosity.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “One of my friends back in Texas asked me one time if he was my uncle. And I told her that he wasn’t but then I didn’t know what to say he was.”
“You used to call him your best friend,” Eddie pointed out.
“But that doesn’t feel right either,” Chris said. “It would be like if I called you my best friend.”
Chris heard his dad take a short inhale and his hand stopped the soothing circles. And then Chris heard what he said out loud.
It would be like if I called you my best friend.
On some level Chris knew that Buck always felt like a parental figure. He was someone Chris trusted. Someone Chris knew he could rely on.
“Oh,” Eddie breathed out. But he quickly tried to cover up the emotion that Chris definitely saw. “Is your old man not cool enough to be your best friend?”
If it was a couple of months ago, Chris might not have let the joke slide. He probably would have rolled his eyes and gotten a little irritated with his dad. But Chris was so tired of holding onto anger like that. Especially when he didn't want to be angry at his dad.
“You’re my dad,” Chris said, “you’re not supposed to be my best friend.”
“Buck could still be your best friend,” Eddie said after a beat.
“He’s your best friend.”
“You can have more than one best friend.”
“Dad.” Chris knew his tone had shifted to exasperation because his dad finally resumed the small circular rubbing motions on his back.
“Is it weird that he kind of feels like another dad?” Chris said, finally saying the quiet part out loud.
Eddie turned his body so he was facing Chris and brought him into a hug. Chris felt his dad tuck his chin over his shoulder and felt his dad’s chest expand like he couldn't get enough air.
“No, mijo, I don’t think that’s weird,” Eddie said into the shell of Chris’s ear. Chris sat there for a second, letting his dad hug him. He brought his arms up and wrapped them around his shoulders and pressed his face into his dad.
Chris suddenly felt a lot more scared for Buck than he did before. He didn't want Buck to be alone, spiraling with his own thoughts. Chris knew what it felt like to spiral and think no one was there to help. To think that the people you love the most won’t be there for you.
“Come on,” Chris said as he detached himself from his dad. “Let’s go see Buck.”
***
On the way over, Chris googled about what to do to help someone through withdrawal. There’s a lot that he himself couldn't do — like a lot of the medical stuff. But he knew that his dad would have a good handle on that stuff. And so would Hen and Chimney and Maddie. Chris couldn't help but think how lucky they all were to have each other for something like this. That Buck could do this in the privacy of his own home surrounded by people who cared about him rather than going to a clinic. Not that there would have been anything wrong with that, but selfishly, Chris wanted to see Buck more than some outpatient clinic would probably allow. A clinic like that definitely wouldn’t allow his dad to take charge the way he had.
Chris watched as his dad and Hen went through all the cabinets looking for anything. He watched as his dad showed Chimney and Maddie where to put the fresh groceries they’d just bought. He watched it all as he sat at Buck’s patio table with him. Sitting with him. That was one of the things he knew he could do. He could hang out with Buck and try to occupy his time so that way maybe he didn’t think about his cravings. Chris had dug through Buck’s closet where he kept his board and card games and brought a bunch of them out.
Right now, they were just playing cards, but Buck’s mind seemed to wander. Chris followed Buck’s eyeline and found he was watching Hen, Chimney, and his dad going through Buck’s things. His cabinets, his bags, hell, even his fucking pillowcases. Looking for all the places that Buck may have hidden anything. Even though he knew that this was necessary – all of the sites he looked at had talked about removing future temptations – he still felt sympathy. Even if it was necessary, it was still an invasion of privacy.
Buck set the cards down with a trembling hand. Chris raised his eyebrows.
“You’re letting me win?” Chris asked, intentionally drawing his attention away from the movement in the house.
Buck looked back at him with surprise on his face, like he wasn’t expecting Chris to say anything.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry,” Buck mumbled. “I got a little distracted.” Buck looked back to the others inside the house.
“It sucks to have people touching your stuff,” Chris said. Since they came back to L.A., Chris noticed that his dad was more hesitant to enter his room. He always asked Chris for permission to go in his room ever since he was little. His dad always stressed to him that Chris was entitled to his own boundaries. But the vibe between him and his dad felt a little off still when it came to stuff like that. But he was grateful that his dad was always so ready to help him be more independent. That was another huge reason Chris didn’t want to stay with his grandparents. They babied him and he fucking hated being babied.
So Chris didn't want Buck to feel babied either.
“Yeah,” Buck sighed. “It also just sucks ‘cause they’re doing it ‘cause they don’t trust me.”
Before Chris could think of what to say, he ended up saying the first thing that came to his mind.
“Would you trust you?”
Buck’s attention slid back to Chris and before he could think twice about what he said, Buck laughed a little to himself.
“Probably not,” Buck said with that look on his face like he was proud Chris said something truthful. Like he was proud that Chris didn’t pull his punches. “I’m sorry your dad dragged you here.”
“He didn’t drag me here.” Chris shook his head. “I told him I wanted to be here.”
“I just –” Buck struggled. “I didn’t want them to see me like this.” Buck shifted his head, pointing it in the direction of the others.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Buck added so quietly that Chris wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it.
“I’m not a baby,” Chris said, lifting his chin.
“No, I know you’re not, Chris,” Buck replied. “It’s just…,” he trailed off.
“If it was Dad,” Chris said slowly, “I would be here just like I am for you.”
“Chris.” Buck choked on his name and Chris watched as his eyes grew a little wet.
“Dad always says that family is there for each other, no matter what,” Chris said as he put his own cards down. “And you're my…”
Best friend was no longer enough to describe what Buck meant to Chris. Uncle was never on the table. Family was close. Chris did consider Buck family. He’d been there for so many of Chris’s life events. Hell, he’d gone to parent-teacher conferences with his dad. And he’d heard people say things to his dad and Buck.
“Your son is cute.”
“You two have a good kid.”
As he’d gotten older, Chris understood what the three of them looked like to people who didn't know them. He didn't particularly care one way or the other what people thought when they saw the three of them out. If people saw them as a family, then to Chris, that wasn't entirely incorrect.
“You’re as important to me as Dad is,” Chris settled on. Because it was true. They were equal in Chris’s mind.
“Come here,” Buck said, moving from his chair and kneeling down next to Chris. Chris didn't hesitate to throw his arms around Buck. When Chris was smaller, at this angle their heads would have touched. But now that Chris was taller and his chest had gotten a little longer, Buck’s head rested on his chest.
Chris could feel Buck shaking slightly. Chris had looked up the symptoms of drug withdrawal so he could be prepared for what he saw. So he knew that the trembling coming from Buck was just his body’s reaction to not being high. But that didn't stop Chris from trying to hang on a little tighter, like it might help.
“I love you so much, Chris.” Buck’s words were muffled a little bit since they were said directly into Chris’s chest. Like Buck was trying to get them closer to Chris’s heart.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Chris’s attention. He watched as his dad came up to the frame of the sliding glass doors. Chris could see the others still milling about, but his dad was staring at them.
Eddie leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He had that same look on his face that he did when Chris called Buck his Buck. Chris felt himself swallow the emotions rising up in his throat.
“I love you too, Buck,” Chris said as he looked at his dad. Chris watched as his words hit Eddie’s ears. They seemed to knock the breath out of him. Eddie looked like he was about to step outside when Maddie called for him. Eddie glanced at her for a second before looking back at Chris and Buck.
I got him. Chris mouthed to his dad. Chris watched as his dad teared up a little bit but nodded and walked back into the house toward Maddie.
Chris had never felt more at home than when he was with his dad and Buck. And he knew they felt the same. They would get through this together… as a family.