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He wasn't going to go ahead with it at first.
Moving had seemed like a pipe dream, a fun idea but something he - reliable, steadfast, predictable Eddie - couldn't do. But one too many snide comments, a few awkward dinners and the horrifying realisation that Chris was finding excuses not to see his grandparents and Eddie had come to terms with the fact that he had to change something.
It wasn't going to be to uproot his life to halfway across the country though.
El Paso was all he knew, it felt like the place he had to be regardless of how he felt about it. Chris's childhood was here, their family was here, hell Eddie's entire career was here.
The memory of Shannon was here.
Her memory, but not her.
Because Shannon had never belonged in El Paso the same way he never had. Shannon always belonged wherever her family was, where her Mom was. Eddie had always known that. Had been forced to come to terms with it when deciding where to bury her and being unable to forget a day when they were still naive teens sitting by the lake and trading secrets under the moon.
"If you die before me, don't trap me here. Send me somewhere warm, somewhere by the sea, like California. Mom loves it there, whenever we go visit family there she seems lighter."
Eddie had laughed at the time, told her not be morbid and promised her they'd both get out of El Paso.
When they asked him, he hadn't hesitated. Had immediately told them the same cemetery as where her Mom was and then had locked himself in the bathroom allowing himself a minute alone, muffling his sobs in his arms.
Now, after untangling the web of his grief, Eddie can accept that they'd never loved eachother the way they should've, not at nineteen, not when they hardly knew what it meant to be in love. But she was always his best friend, always. Even in the stifled moments at the end of their marriage and all the awkward moments in between, he'd known it. Her death hadn't changed that, it had only made the reminder of it leave an ache in his chest.
So maybe Eddie was always going to end up in LA, he'd always been the one to follow her anyway.
Hed been terrified to ask Chris. His son is the strongest person he knows, but asking him to leave everything he'd ever known had felt wrong, had felt selfish.
In the end, he'd stammered his way through asking, his heart pounding, his hands sweating.
Chris had looked at him in that unimpressed way only a fourteen year old can and had said, "If you're asking me if I want to leave the mess of this place behind and think I'm gonna say no you're crazy. I'm not a kid anymore, I hear the way they speak to you and I hate it, I hate how they speak to me. I don't need anything in El Paso Dad, I need you, it's only home because you're here."
Eddie had cried, wrapped his son in his arms and had started packing.
Considering his history, Eddie thinks he's adjusting to this whole life in LA thing pretty well.
Chris's school is sorted, his house is starting to become a home and he's finally grabbing shifts, floating across the stations of Los Angeles answering the most insane calls (genuinely, what's wrong with people here) with the hopes that something more permanent will come up.
He practically skips into the gorcery store giving himself a mental pat on the back for doing something right, he turns the corner and then-
There is a man.
Which is normal, he's not the only man in the world. Men exist. Men aren't just in fiction. Men also go into stores and buy things.
Eddie's just not sure men are supposed to look like this.
He's tall. Ridiculously tall actually, his legs stretch on for what seems like miles. Eddie's not short himself but if he stood next to him, he's sure he'd look almost small. His shoulders are broad, spanning a breadth so wide Eddie's not sure how he even finds shirts that fit, the one he's wearing now even seems to be struggling to contain the sheer mass of him. His hair's ruffled in swirling pattern of curls that look soft, messy in a way that looks artful. And his face is-
Unfair. This is all very unfair. Disrespectful really. His eyes are so blue, light in a way that seems like the sky dropped a part of itself there.
Is Eddie blushing?
He feels alarmingly warm, his hands are sweaty and his heart is screaming at him, trying to crawl it's way out of Eddie's chest and sit in the palm of the mans giant hands and-
He's leaving.
He's a fully grown man, a veteran and a father and he is turning around to walk into an aisle filled with pet food looking at the shelves with a serious attentiveness as though he even has a pet to buy for.
This is very normal.
He can find men attractive. That was an objectively attractive man. Eddie is not picturing him in his head. That would be not so normal. But it's fine, because he isn't doing that.
Normal.
So maybe Eddie isn't as well adjusted as he thought because he can't stop thinking about this random guy.
His eyes are burned into Eddie's brain. They chase him at work, at home, when he's at the gym.
And then Eddie sees him again and things get worse.
He was already in the juice aisle going through the usual battle of whether or not he was going to get any of the ridiculously fruity flavours he was craving and then ultimately deciding that he had water at home so why bother.
He'd been spiralling about it perhaps a bit too much and then suddenly he was there and smiling.
Not even a half hearted upturn of the mouth, that might have been better for Eddie's health, but a wide grin showing all his teeth and stretching the lines of his face, making his eyes shine.
Against his will, Eddie had felt something settle inside of him. Had felt some of that restless buzz whirring under his skin go quiet. He'd done his best to smile back before the man turned at the end of the aisle disappearing.
After that, Eddie sees him every week without fail. Every week, Eddie would be greeted with a blinding smile. Every week, Eddie would stand considering in front of the juice, willing himself to do something, to speak to the outrageously gorgeous man or at least just buy himself some juice without having a complex about it.
He never quite talks a himself into doing either things, but he does keep thinking of sunshine smiles and sky blue eyes.
Even when he's waiting for Christopher and should definitely be thinking of more important things like his very empty fridge and the fact that his son has a better social life than him.
Eddie doesn't want to say he's been avoiding the other parents but from an objective stand point it does seem an awful lot like it. They're all very intimidating mothers with perfectly put together outfits and rigid schedules and the first time he'd come to get Chris he'd felt like he was being sized up. From then on, he'd resolved to keep all school interactions quick and efficient.
Until his child betrays him having to run back to class to the headphones he insists he needs and he's left dawdling quite literally watching the seconds go by in his watch and trying to avoid making eye contact.
Oh god, someone is walking with purpose towards him. Sarah maybe? Sophia? She's definitely the brains behind the PTA and also definitely on her way to interview Eddie in questions he doesn't know how to answer.
"Are you Christopher's Dad?" There's something off about her tone, something self-righteous that rubs him the wrong way and has him straightening his back and tensing his shoulders.
"Um, yeah, yeah. Sarah right?"
"Sandra, actually."
Yikes. This might be a record for him putting his foot in his mouth.
He clears his throat loudly. "Right, sorry. Uh- I'm Eddie."
"Eddie." She repeats it back slowly, like she's mocking him. What is her problem? "Well, nice to finally meet you. Me and some of the other mom's were talking and we were wondering if Christopher's mom would be interested in-"
Whatever she's saying drifts away. It's been a while since he's had to do this. The whole tragic backstory and explanation of some of the hardest moments of his and his son's life. The thing about El Paso was that everyone knew, everyone knew what happened and everyone knew when to just stop asking.
He hadn't prepared himself for reliving it again, adjusting the story to be socially acceptable and not the sharp, broken pieces of what it really is. It's taken him so off guard he can't grasp his bearings, his hold on his surroundings is slipping from his grip and if he has a panic attack in the school parking lot he might never be able to show his face again.
Then, an angel in the form of one of Denny's mom's graces the situation. He's still not entirely sure what's happening but he feels the directing hand of someone else pulling him away, guiding him to somewhere quieter.
"Eddie?"
Hen.
They'd spoken once or twice since their son's blossoming friendship, had traded a few stories of their most insane calls but not much else. Now though, the warmth of her eyes and her easy smile are the exact kind of familiarity he needs.
"Sorry. I'm fine, just- wasn't expecting that. Clearly." He lets out a dry huff of laughter.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. Sandra's a nosy bitch. But you didn't hear that from me." She says with a conspiring wink.
Eddie let's out a real laugh at that. "Tell me about it."
"Now feel free to say no, but are you free tonight? I get the feeling you could use a drink."
From there on, Eddie adds something new to his routine. He grabs shifts, takes Chris to school when he can, makes heart eyes at a beautiful man from across a juice aisle and then spends an evening at the Wilson's pining pathetically over a man he's never even spoken to.
Hen's definitely getting sick of it. She's been harassing him to just ask the guy for his number with a certain edge of impatience lately. Eddie doesn't blame her, he's getting sick of himself. Every waking thought is consumed by a stranger and Chris is starting to ask him what takes him so long when he goes grocery shopping.
What's Eddie supposed to say? Dearest child, I'm in my thirties and crushing on a man I see for five minutes every week. No I haven't spoken to him, but he's very pretty and he seems nice. Chris might hit him.
In the end though, Chris is unknowningly the one to convince him to do something with the feelings in his chest.
They're sitting on the beach, watching the sunset, something Chris had been begging to do since he'd realised his new room didn't give him the same perfect view his old one had. It's getting dark, the wind blowing gently with only the slightest bite of cold when Chris looks at him with something knowing in his eyes.
"Hey Dad?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"I'm really glad we moved here. You seem lighter."
Eddie yearns for Shannon in that moment, wishes she could see how perfect Chris is, how he is all the best parts of her.
"Yeah, bud. I'm really glad we moved too."
Eddie rides the high of that night until the next morning, he wakes up practically beaming, feels so happy he takes himself to the store just because he can. He strides to the juice aisle with purpose, he's determined to actually just grab the mango and passion fruit he'd been eyeing up for months and then-
The man turns up, on a Wednesday which is highly unusual. He's slightly dimmer than usual, practically dragging his feet and then Eddie just does it. Stops thinking about the what ifs and starts talking, to the man.
Eddie thinks it's going pretty well, the guy has the cutest laugh and is funny in such an endearing way and then Eddie watches in alarm as he starts to sway, his face loosing colour, his eyes rolling back and then the man is passing out hitting his head with a smack that makes Eddie wince.
Eddie relies on in muscle memory to get him through it, starts barking orders in a haze. He still feels like he's in a haze when Hen shows up because of course she knows Buck - Buck, his name is Buck and it rolls off his tongue like it belongs there - and then he's being called the juice man by the other paramedic, being violently humiliated by someone he thought was his friend and Eddie feels like a different person than he was yesterday.
Buck turns out to be fine, just has a bad case of being an idiot who pushed too hard and needs to sleep. Eddie thinks that might be the end of it and then Buck's word vomitting all the things Eddie's wanted to hear, confessing that the obsession Eddie had wasn't entirely one sided and asking for his number.
Eddie goes home with three cartons of juice, a phone number and a weightlessness he never thought he'd feel.
He's so glad he went ahead with moving to LA.