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He found Buck in the backyard—his large body folded into an Adirondack chair, lifting a craft soda to his lips.
His gaze was fixed on a patch of grass in front of him, knee bouncing furiously against the wooden slats beneath him.
Eddie approached, lowering himself into the chair beside Buck's. An involuntary groan slipped past his lips as he settled back, his torso still tender from the stab wound.
Buck startled at the sound, Eddie clearly derailing whatever train of thought he'd been trapped in.
Eddie caught Buck's eye. His brows were creased tightly in the middle, hands wrapped around the bottle hard enough that his knuckles paled against the glass.
"What's wrong?" Eddie asked.
"Huh?" Buck replied, blinking at him. "Nothing's wrong. Just thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
The noise of the party faded into the background as Eddie turned his full attention to Buck. Somewhere behind them, someone laughed loudly, music drifting through the open back door.
"It's a great party, isn't it? Can't believe Nash is one," Buck said, placing his soda on the wide arm of the chair.
He shot Eddie a closed-mouth smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then his hands folded in his lap, fingers wringing together absently.
All telltale signs.
"Buck…" Eddie started. "Don't lie to me."
Buck bristled immediately. "I'm not."
"You don't get to lie to me about what's going on in your head anymore. Not after last time," Eddie said, pointing his beer bottle at him.
Buck rolled his eyes.
"What is this, North Korea?" Buck asked with playful indignation. "I'm not even entitled to the privacy of my own thoughts?"
Eddie just shook his head, amused despite himself.
"Okay, Kim Jong Eddie. If you must know, I was thinking about Theo."
Eddie paused, waiting for Buck to elaborate.
"And…" Eddie prompted when Buck didn't continue.
Buck sighed loudly, fingers tightening around his soda bottle.
"Harry said something that got me thinking, is all."
"What'd he say?"
"That everyone at this party either has kids or is a kid, except for him and me," Buck said, picking at the edge of the label affixed to the glass bottle.
"But May and Ravi—"
"—weren't in his direct line of sight. I think we may need to work on his understanding of object permanence," Buck finished for him.
Eddie huffed out a laugh.
"So he's sent you into some kind of existential spiral about not having kids yet?" Eddie asked.
Buck nodded. "A little. But that's not what's bothering me."
"Firstly, Harry was a child like thirty-five seconds ago. I wouldn't take anything he says to heart," Eddie said. "Secondly, I'm glad you're finally able to admit something's bothering you. Spill, Buckley."
Buck exhaled through his nose, gaze dropping to his hands.
"I hadn't checked in on Theo in a while, so I emailed Deidre about half an hour ago. She just responded."
The last Eddie had heard, Theo was supposed to be living with Kameron's mom in San Diego. He knew Buck had been disappointed about the move, even if he'd never said it outright. Eddie could hear it in the careful neutrality Buck used whenever Theo came up, like if he handled the subject gently enough, it wouldn't hurt as much.
"What did she say?" Eddie asked softly.
Buck swallowed before answering.
"It didn't work out with Kameron's mom. He's back in foster care."
Eddie's heart clenched painfully.
Theo was… a lot. Loud, hyperactive, complicated in the way traumatized kids often were. But he deserved a home. Deserved people who loved him fiercely and without hesitation, just like any other kid.
"Have they identified any other relatives? Connor's family?"
Buck let out a humorless laugh.
"They don't want anything to do with him, on account of, well… you know."
Biology.
That was the word left unsaid.
Heartless was the word that hovered between them next.
Their son. Their brother. Connor had loved that little boy with everything he had, and somehow that still wasn't enough for them. They couldn't honor that love because Theo didn't share their DNA? It was bullshit. It was reprehensible.
Eddie didn't realize how visibly angry he'd gotten until Buck spoke again.
"I know," Buck said quietly, eyes fixed on the clench of Eddie's jaw.
"Now, she's looking for a long-term placement that could potentially lead to adoption. It's essentially what she did for Mara," Buck added.
The solution seemed obvious. Glaringly so.
Eddie could tell Buck knew it too—in the way he wouldn't quite look at him directly for more than a few seconds at a time.
The enormity of it was already sitting heavily on Buck's shoulders.
Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, watching him carefully.
It would've been easy to ask the obvious question. Have you considered taking him in?
But that wasn't really the question here. Eddie didn't think Buck was struggling with whether he wanted Theo.
"What part of this is scaring you?" Eddie asked softly.
Buck's head snapped toward him slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to cut straight to the center of it.
For a second, he didn't answer.
Instead, he lifted the soda to his lips and took a long swallow like it was one of the IPAs he used to nurse after shifts. The motion pulled at something deep in Eddie's chest—a reminder of Buck's sobriety, of the wreckage New Mexico had left behind, of all the ways Buck was still quietly stitching himself back together.
Buck lowered the bottle slowly.
"I don't know if I'm allowed to want this," he admitted finally.
Eddie's brows pulled together.
"Buck—"
"Donor, not dad," Buck recited.
Eddie shook his head immediately. "Buck, come on. You know this isn't that simple."
"I just—" He exhaled sharply. "I've always wanted kids. A family. What if I'm making this about me? What if I'm putting what I want ahead of what's actually best for Theo?"
Eddie's expression softened.
"Wanting him doesn't make you selfish," he said quietly. "Theo needs someone who's gonna love him no matter what. Someone patient enough to understand him, fight for him, show up for him every single day."
Buck looked unconvinced, shoulders still tense.
"And truly…" Eddie continued. "I can't think of anyone better for that than you."
Buck's eyes flicked toward him.
"I'm not sure I'm cut out for this."
Eddie snorted softly, shaking his head. "Then let me be sure for you," he said, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You are."
Buck opened his mouth immediately. "I don't—"
"Nope. Absolutely not." Eddie pointed a finger at him before he could spiral any further. "No arguments. As someone who's been doing this for the last fifteen years, trust me when I say you'd be an incredible dad, Buck."
Buck looked at him then, really looked at him, and Eddie could practically see the words starting to sink in.
"Really?" he asked quietly.
"There isn't a single doubt in my mind," Eddie said.
The next words slipped out before he could stop them.
"You helped me raise my son."
Silence settled between them for a moment.
Both of them turned toward the yard where Christopher sat cross-legged in the grass beside Jee-Yun, patiently helping her stack brightly colored plastic rings in the correct order after she'd knocked them over for the third time. When she got frustrated and threw one across the lawn, Christopher only laughed, reaching over to hand it back to her while she dissolved into delighted giggles.
Christopher was kind and gentle. More so than Eddie could have ever taught him alone.
Buck had been part of that. So much more than part of it, if Eddie was being honest with himself.
A soft smile tugged at Eddie's mouth.
"I think we did a pretty good job," he said quietly.
When he looked back at Buck, his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
"Wanna do it again?" Buck asked.