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The dining table had vanished beneath carefully separated piles of school supplies, each stack arranged with enough precision that Eddie was fairly certain Buck had started categorising things alphabetically at some point while he’d been upstairs helping Christopher sort through old folders. Kindergarten orientation papers sat beside sharpened pencils and packs of glue sticks while Christopher’s high school supplies occupied the opposite end of the table in far more subdued colours, loose paper and black binders replacing the bright primary shades scattered around Theo’s things. Every so often the soundtrack from Monsters, Inc. drifted in from the living room alongside Theo’s delighted laughter and Christopher’s occasional dry commentary, the two of them sprawled across the couch under a blanket while the adults took over the kitchen and dining area for the annual ritual of convincing themselves they were prepared for another school year.
Buck stood over the table with Theo’s supply list in one hand and a packet of crayons in the other, trying with visible effort not to spiral while Eddie calmly checked items off Christopher’s list beside him. “Okay, so the crayons go in the classroom supplies pile because those stay at school, but the coloured pencils need to go in the backpack pile because those are personal use,” he muttered mostly to himself before immediately shifting the glue sticks into a slightly different arrangement for reasons known only to him. Eddie slid Christopher’s physics notebook into the correct pile without even looking up. “You know his teacher probably isn’t grading your organisational system, right?” Buck ignored him completely. “And spare clothes obviously stay separate from the classroom supplies because they go in the backpack too.” That finally earned him a snort from Eddie, who took a slow sip of coffee before replying, “Theo’s five, not deploying overseas.” Buck looked genuinely affronted. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not emotionally attached to the integrity of tiny labelled folders.”
Across the room Theo’s laughter rang out loudly enough that both of them glanced instinctively towards the living room where he’d somehow ended up half upside down against Christopher’s side again, curls hanging towards the floor while Christopher absently held onto the back of his shirt to stop him launching himself off the couch entirely. “Mike Wazowski’s funny,” Theo announced at full volume just as one of the characters started screaming on screen. Christopher didn’t even take his eyes off the television as he replied, “Yeah, because Billy Crystal’s funny.” Theo considered that seriously for all of three seconds before asking, “Who’s Billy Crystal?” Christopher sighed with the exhausted patience of somebody who’d accepted his evening was now going to involve explaining celebrity filmography to a five year old. “The guy doing the voice.” Theo immediately gasped. “The green guy’s real?”
Buck smiled at the sound before turning back towards the table where he carefully rewrote THEO RILEY on a name label because the first version had apparently displeased him somehow. Eddie noticed the subtle shift in his expression while Buck pressed the label neatly onto the plastic folder, fingertips lingering for a second before moving onto the next item. The surname still mattered every single time Buck wrote it down. Eddie had noticed that months ago, the quiet care Buck took with preserving Connor and Kameron in every official document and school form, never replacing them, never trying to make Theo into somebody else’s child just because tragedy had shifted the shape of his life.
By the time they’d finished sorting everything, the piles had become almost intimidatingly organised. Classroom supplies sat stacked neatly beside the front door ready to carry in tomorrow morning while backpack items remained spread across the table in their own carefully separated categories. “Okay,” Buck announced softly, exhaling like he’d just completed surgery, “now we pack bags.” Eddie hid a smile behind his coffee mug while Buck immediately reached for Theo’s tiny backpack, treating the process with the kind of concentrated seriousness usually reserved for bomb disposal. “Folder first so it stays flat,” he explained while sliding it carefully into place before adding the pencil case beside it. “Extra clothes go in the front compartment because if something leaks they won’t get wet.” Eddie zipped Christopher’s calculus binder into his backpack with significantly less ceremony before replying, “You know most parents just throw things in and hope for the best, right?” Buck looked horrified by the suggestion. “That cannot possibly be true.” From the couch Christopher called back, “It’s absolutely true,” before immediately adding, “and honestly those kids probably sleep more than you.”
That earned a reluctant huff of laughter from Buck before he reached down to smooth one hand over the top of Theo’s backpack like he was reassuring himself it really was ready. Eddie caught the movement without commenting on it, though something in his chest tightened briefly anyway. Buck had approached the entire evening like preparation alone could somehow protect Theo from every difficult thing waiting beyond tomorrow morning.
Once both backpacks were lined up beside the front door with shoes neatly underneath, Buck moved onto the lunches with the same intense concentration he’d applied to everything else all evening. Theo’s dinosaur lunch bag sat open on the kitchen counter while Buck cut strawberries into smaller pieces with surgical precision, occasionally glancing towards the living room whenever Theo laughed loudly at the film. Beside him Eddie packed Christopher’s lunch automatically, movements practised after years of school mornings. Turkey sandwich, crisps, apple slices and a protein bar shoved into the side pocket because Christopher would forget to eat otherwise. “He doesn’t need a nutritionally perfect lunch for one day,” Eddie pointed out eventually after watching Buck rearrange strawberries by size inside the container. Buck glanced down like he hadn’t realised he’d been doing exactly that. “It helps them fit better.” Eddie snorted quietly while sliding Christopher’s lunch into the fridge. “Sure it does.”
Theo suddenly appeared beside the counter with Christopher trailing behind him, both of them still wrapped in the blanket they’d stolen from the couch. “I need dinosaur crackers,” Theo informed Buck with enormous seriousness. Buck nodded immediately. “Already packed.” “And gummies.” “Also packed.” “And the little chocolate things.” Eddie cut in before Buck could betray him. “Absolutely not packed.” Theo gasped softly. “Why?” “Because kindergarten teachers don’t need help hating us on day one.” Christopher snorted while leaning against the counter. “He’s gonna trade all the cool snacks away anyway.” Buck looked genuinely alarmed. “Children barter food?” Christopher stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Buck. Seriously?” Theo frowned thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t trade dinosaur crackers.” “You say that now,” Christopher told him gravely, “but wait until somebody shows up with Lunchables.”
Once the lunches were tucked safely into the fridge and the kitchen had finally stopped resembling the aftermath of a school supply explosion, Eddie disappeared briefly before returning with the back to school boards balanced against his chest alongside a pack of chalk markers. Christopher groaned immediately the second he saw them. “Do we have to?” Eddie handed him one of the markers without sympathy. “We do this every year.” “Yeah,” Christopher muttered while dragging himself into a chair beside Theo, “and every year it’s embarrassing.” Theo, meanwhile, looked delighted by the entire concept and immediately climbed properly into his seat while Buck settled the kindergartener’s board in front of him. The black chalkboard surface was still blank apart from the printed sections waiting to be filled in, and something gentled visibly in Buck’s face as he uncapped the marker. “Okay, buddy,” he said quietly, “what’s your favourite colour?” Theo answered instantly. “Green.” Buck paused. “Yesterday it was blue.” Theo shrugged like this was obvious. “That was before.”
Beside them Christopher filled his own board out with the resigned efficiency of somebody who’d done this enough times to know resistance was pointless while Eddie leaned against the counter watching all three of them with poorly hidden fondness. Buck moved onto the next section carefully, handwriting suddenly more deliberate than it had been while labelling glue sticks twenty minutes earlier. “Okay, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Theo answered so quickly it was obvious he’d never considered any other possibility. “A firefighter. Like you an’ Eddie.”
The room seemed to soften quietly around the words. Christopher glanced up from his own board while Eddie looked over just in time to catch Buck going completely still for half a second before ducking his head and writing the answer down with unsteady hands. Theo, oblivious to the emotional devastation he’d just caused, added proudly, “An’ maybe I’ll drive the truck.” Christopher grinned slightly. “Yeah, you definitely got that from Buck.”
They finished the boards slowly after that, Theo answering each question with the complete seriousness only five year olds seemed capable of while Christopher complained intermittently about the entire process despite still spelling everything neatly enough for Eddie to know he cared underneath the theatrics. By the time the markers were capped again, the film credits had started rolling quietly in the living room and Theo’s earlier energy had finally begun giving way to exhaustion, his curls flattened on one side from the blanket and his eyes drifting heavy every few minutes.
Buck looked down at the kindergarten board one last time before carefully setting it aside for the morning photos. Five years old, Durand, firefighter, favourite book somehow changed three separate times while they’d been filling it out, tiny ordinary details sitting there in Buck’s handwriting and suddenly feeling far larger than they should’ve. Eddie reached over eventually and squeezed the back of his neck gently. “C’mon,” he said softly while pushing himself upright. “Bedtime before you scare yourself into reorganising the backpacks again.”
Buck huffed out a quiet laugh while Theo immediately perked up enough to protest, “I’m not tired,” directly before yawning so hard he nearly tipped sideways in his chair. Christopher snorted under his breath and stood, grabbing both boards before Theo could accidentally smear chalk all over them. “Dad’s right,” he informed Theo solemnly while heading towards the stairs. “Tomorrow morning you’re gonna be half asleep and grumpy.” “Am not,” Theo argued sleepily while Buck scooped him up against his side anyway, curls immediately tickling his jaw as Theo tucked himself in on instinct. Eddie watched them disappear towards the stairs together with Christopher trailing behind carrying the boards carefully flat against his chest, the whole house settling gradually around them while tomorrow waited only a few hours away.
Morning arrived quietly, pale gold sunlight stretching across the kitchen floor while the house still sat suspended in that soft in between state before school mornings fully woke it up. Downstairs everything waited exactly where they’d left it the night before, Theo’s tiny backpack resting beside the front door with his dinosaur lunch bag tucked neatly beside it waiting for the actual lunch to be added from the fridge while Christopher’s larger backpack leaned against the wall nearby and both first day boards sat propped carefully against the kitchen counter waiting for photos later. Buck had checked all of it twice before bed and then once more after Eddie had finally convinced him close to midnight that reorganising already packed bags wasn’t going to somehow improve Theo’s first day of kindergarten.
The first sound of movement came with the quiet hum of the stair lift upstairs followed almost immediately by Theo’s rapid footsteps racing along the hallway. Christopher appeared first in the kitchen doorway looking thoroughly unconvinced by the concept of consciousness before seven in the morning, his curls flattened awkwardly on one side from sleep while Theo bounced into the room directly behind him in the outfit it had taken a good half hour to decide on the night before, shirt already crooked somehow and curls even wilder than they’d been before bed. The sight of him hit Buck unexpectedly hard, something catching painfully beneath his ribs because Theo suddenly looked so little and so grown up at the same time, not preschool little anymore, not toddler little either, but school little, backpack by the front door and first day board waiting on the counter little.
For one brief second Buck got pulled backwards unexpectedly, Christopher at nearly the same age sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor refusing to wear trainers because apparently Velcro straps were “for babies”, Eddie trying unsuccessfully not to laugh while Buck argued with a stubborn seven year old already convinced he knew better than every adult around him. The memory disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind the same ache milestone mornings always seemed to carry now, pride tangled up tightly with the awareness of how quickly everything kept changing underneath them.
Eddie moved easily around the kitchen while the boys settled at the table, coffee brewing for him and Buck while fresh orange juice filled two glasses without him even needing to ask who wanted what. Theo climbed onto his chair sideways because apparently sitting normally remained beyond him even on monumental occasions while Christopher dropped heavily into his own seat with the exhausted dignity unique to teenagers forced awake before they’d naturally evolved into functioning humans. Buck turned back towards the stove before he got trapped staring too long and focused instead on pancakes while Theo immediately launched into excited rambling about how Christopher had said kindergarteners got recess every single day and Christopher corrected him automatically around a yawn by explaining, “Technically everybody gets recess, they just stop calling’ it recess once you’re older because apparently adults hate joy.” Eddie snorted softly while pulling both lunch bags from the fridge and setting them beside the backpacks by the door, muttering, “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said before eight am,” which Christopher accepted with a solemn nod before immediately reaching across the table to steal strawberries from Theo’s plate.
Theo gasped in outrage so genuine it nearly made Buck laugh out loud, protesting, “Those were my favourite ones,” while Christopher shrugged without the slightest trace of remorse and informed him, “Then you should’ve defended them better.” Before the argument could escalate into actual betrayal Buck slid another pancake onto Theo’s plate while simultaneously reaching over to straighten the collar of his top, earning himself an immediate, deeply put upon, “Buckkk,” despite the fact Theo leaned unconsciously back into the touch a second later anyway. Christopher snorted quietly into his juice before pointing out, “You’ve fixed his shirt like six times already,” which unfortunately was probably true.
The whole kitchen settled into the comfortable noise of overlapping conversation and stolen fruit and Buck hovering every few minutes pretending he wasn’t constantly checking for signs that Theo might suddenly become nervous. Eddie recognised the shape of the anxiety under Buck’s skin instantly because he remembered exactly what milestone mornings had felt like after Shannon left and then after she died, that strange complicated grief where pride and happiness existed side by side with the constant awareness that somebody important was missing from it. Every now and then he caught Buck looking at Theo with the same expression he’d worn since sometime around midnight, emotional enough beneath the surface that Eddie knew he was barely holding himself together underneath all the practical tasks.
By the time breakfast finished Buck shifted automatically into curl duty while Eddie cleaned the kitchen and Christopher dragged himself towards one of the stools with the exhausted resignation of somebody who’d spent years surrendering himself to Buck’s aggressively specific hair routine. The second Buck picked up the spray bottle Christopher complained, “Too much water already,” which only made Buck roll his eyes and remind him, “You say that every morning,” before Christopher muttered, “Because every morning you nearly drown me.” Eddie laughed quietly into his coffee while Buck worked product carefully through Christopher’s curls with practised hands, Christopher continuing to complain under his breath about excessive moisturising until Theo climbed impatiently onto the other stool waiting his turn.
Up close like this the resemblance between Theo and Buck hit Eddie hard sometimes. Same dark curls refusing to cooperate no matter how carefully Buck shaped them, same expressive face incapable of hiding emotion for longer than half a second, same restless energy vibrating constantly beneath the surface like staying still required genuine effort. Buck rested one hand lightly against the back of Theo’s head while trying unsuccessfully to tame curls that clearly had their own independent agenda, quietly reminding him, “Hold still, buddy,” only for Theo to insist with complete seriousness, “I am still,” despite actively wriggling the entire time. Buck pointed out, “You are literally moving right now,” which earned him Theo’s very logical explanation that, “I’m moving’ calmly,” a response so unmistakably Buck that Christopher laughed hard enough from the doorway to nearly choke on toothpaste.
The second Buck finally got Theo’s curls sitting properly, Theo shook his head hard enough to undo half the work instantly. For a moment Buck just stared at him in silent betrayal while Eddie finally lost the fight against his own laughter and reminded him gently, “Baby, he’s five. Nobody’s expecting him to show up looking professionally styled.” Buck looked genuinely offended on Theo’s behalf as he explained, “I just wanted one picture where he doesn’t look like he fought a wind tunnel,” only for Theo to beam brightly and announce, “I like my curls big anyway.”
The words landed somewhere unexpectedly soft inside Buck because they sounded painfully familiar, too close to things Maddie used to tell him when he was younger and embarrassed by his own constantly untamed hair. For a second he could hear her laughing faintly through memory, fingers shoving his curls back out of his eyes while she insisted they looked fine exactly the way they were. Quietly, he reached over and pushed one curl gently away from Theo’s face before murmuring, “Yeah, buddy. Me too.”
By the time Buck finally accepted defeat in the war against Theo’s curls, the kitchen had settled into the softer kind of morning chaos that came once everybody was mostly ready to leave. Eddie had rinsed the breakfast dishes and topped off the coffee for himself and Buck while Theo remained perched on the stool kicking his legs rhythmically against the cabinets and Christopher disappeared briefly upstairs to grab the last of his things before leaving for school. A few minutes later he reappeared with his backpack slung over one shoulder and his curls finally behaving enough that Buck looked mildly satisfied by the outcome, though apparently not satisfied enough to stop reaching over automatically and flattening one section again as Christopher passed him, earning himself an immediate, deeply long suffering, “Buck,” while Buck defended himself with, “That curl was doing something weird,” which only made Eddie laugh quietly into his coffee.
Theo brightened immediately the second he spotted the first day boards still propped carefully against the counter and scrambled down from the stool so fast Buck had to catch the back of his shirt before momentum carried him directly into the kitchen island. Eddie shook his head fondly while Buck steadied Theo with practised ease and reminded him nobody was starting school with a concussion if he could help it, though Theo looked entirely unrepentant about nearly concussing himself and immediately reached for his kindergarten board instead, clutching it proudly against his chest while Eddie picked up his phone. Christopher groaned softly the second he realised pictures were happening next, complaining that he’d already survived ten years of this tradition and should probably qualify for compensation by now, though he still moved automatically towards the wall beside the stairs where Eddie always took the photos every year.
Buck smiled despite himself watching Christopher settle into place with his board held one handed against his chest, all teenage reluctance and practised resignation wrapped around the same familiar routine they’d repeated since kindergarten. For a moment Buck got caught there unexpectedly because Christopher looked so grown now, taller every year and sharper around the edges where childhood softness had gradually disappeared, but still recognisably the little boy from the earliest scrapbook pages upstairs. Eddie lifted the phone while Buck stepped forward on instinct to fix one curl that had fallen into Christopher’s eyes, earning himself another exhausted, “Seriously?” before Buck reminded him, “One day you’ll appreciate having decent pictures,” and Christopher immediately shot back, “There is literally no universe where that becomes true.”
Eddie took several photos anyway while Buck hovered nearby making tiny adjustments every few seconds despite Christopher’s increasingly dramatic sighing. Theo found the entire thing hysterically funny right up until Eddie turned the camera towards him instead, at which point all the laughter vanished into immediate excitement and he bounced into place clutching the kindergarten board with both hands while Buck crouched automatically beside him to straighten the edge so the writing showed properly. Theo’s curls had already escaped again despite twenty solid minutes of effort, and his top sat slightly uneven where he’d spent breakfast wriggling constantly in his chair, but the sight of him standing there still hit Buck hard enough to leave him briefly breathless.
Five years old, first day of kindergarten, favourite colour green even though yesterday it had apparently been blue, wanted to be a firefighter, wanted to drive the truck, tiny ordinary details written carefully in Buck’s own handwriting while Theo grinned brightly enough to light the whole hallway before immediately leaning towards Eddie’s phone to inspect the pictures and announcing proudly, “I look big.” The words lodged painfully somewhere beneath Buck’s ribs because he did look big. Not older than he should be, not rushed forward too quickly, but steadier somehow than the terrified little boy Buck had held in the back of the ambulance over a year earlier while blood and shattered glass clung to both of them. Safe enough now to smile about school pictures, secure enough now to believe tomorrow existed beyond survival.
Eddie must’ve caught the direction Buck’s thoughts were starting to drift because he lowered the phone slightly afterwards and reached out long enough to squeeze the back of Buck’s arm once, grounding and quiet. Buck swallowed hard before managing a faint smile back at him just as Christopher checked the time on his phone and sighed that the bus would be there in five minutes.
The shift in Theo happened almost immediately afterwards, subtle enough that somebody who didn’t know him well might’ve missed it completely, but Buck knew him too well now not to recognise the uncertainty settling underneath all the excitement. All summer the boys had been together almost constantly, Christopher trailing Theo through beach trips and museum days and afternoons at the station while Theo followed him around the house like an overexcited shadow whenever they were home. Kindergarten suddenly meant separation in a way Theo hadn’t really had to think about yet.
Theo watched Christopher sling his backpack properly onto both shoulders before asking quietly, “You come home first?” and Christopher looked up immediately, all the sleepy teenage irritation softening into something gentler as he assured him, “Yeah, obviously. I’m not moving out because you started kindergarten.” Theo still looked uncertain though, pointing out softly, “But you’ll be gone all day,” which only made Christopher shrug while Eddie handed him his lunch bag and answer, “So will you.” Theo frowned immediately. “That’s different.”
For a second Theo leaned harder against Buck’s side, enough that Buck could practically feel the nerves underneath all the earlier excitement, and then Christopher crouched awkwardly beside him near the door and bumped their shoulders together gently before telling him, “After school you can come home and tell me whether kindergarten’s actually fun or if everybody’s been lying this whole time.” That at least earned a small smile before Theo asked carefully, “What if it sucks?” and Christopher, without missing a beat, informed him with complete solemnity, “Then I’ll teach you how to fake sick realistically,” earning himself an immediate, “Christopher,” from Eddie while Buck laughed despite himself and Christopher defended himself immediately with, “What? It’s valuable life advice anyway.”
The familiar rhythm of the conversation eased something inside Theo enough that by the time the bus finally pulled up outside a minute later he was bouncing lightly on his feet again while Christopher grabbed his lunch and headed for the door. Right before leaving he paused long enough to ruffle Theo’s curls carefully and remind him quietly, “You’re gonna be okay, y’know,” and after a second Theo nodded and answered with a small but certain, “I know.” Maybe that was the thing that got Buck the most. Beneath the nerves and excitement and grief Theo still carried quietly around the edges, he trusted now that people came back for him afterwards.
The drive to the cemetery felt quieter than the rest of the morning had, the city still only half awake outside the windows while Theo sat in the backseat with his backpack strapped carefully beside him, one hand resting protectively over his dinosaur lunch bag like he still couldn’t quite believe it belonged to him. Buck kept one hand tight against the steering wheel while Eddie rested his coffee between his knees in the passenger seat, the familiar route pulling all three of them into a softer silence than the house had allowed earlier. Every now and then Theo leaned forward slightly between the seats just to make sure Buck and Eddie were listening before reminding them, “I hafta tell Mommy an’ Daddy about Miss Ramirez,” before immediately adding, “An’ the star sandwiches too. An’ Chris says kindergarteners get naps but I think he’s lyin’,” which earned him a quiet snort from Eddie as he informed him, “Christopher’s definitely lying about that one.”
Theo gasped softly in immediate betrayal at the idea Christopher might spread misinformation about something so important while Buck smiled faintly despite himself before turning his attention back towards the road. Ever since they’d left the house something about him had gone quieter, all the frantic nervous energy from the night before and the careful practical tasks from earlier that morning fading now there was nothing left to organise. Theo was dressed and fed and ready for kindergarten. The lunches were packed. The pictures were taken. Christopher was already at school. All that remained now was the emotional part Buck had spent hours trying not to look at too closely.
For a few minutes the truck settled into silence again apart from Theo quietly humming to himself in the backseat while traffic drifted past outside the windows. Buck kept his eyes fixed ahead, though Eddie noticed the way his grip tightened fractionally against the steering wheel every time Theo mentioned school again, excitement and grief pulling visibly against each other underneath his skin now there were no more distractions left to hide behind.
The cemetery appeared slowly ahead of them in the pale morning light, quiet and green and painfully familiar by now. Buck parked near the same section they always visited before turning the engine off, and for a second none of them moved until Theo immediately unbuckled himself and announced with sudden urgency, “I gotta show them my shoes too,” while pushing excitedly out of the car before Buck could even answer.
The morning air still carried that coolness Los Angeles lost before noon, Theo’s trainers crunching lightly against the pathway while he hurried ahead between Buck and Eddie with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders. Without the noise and movement of home around them, the reality of how small he still was felt sharper somehow. Tiny fingers curled around the straps of the backpack. Curls already escaping despite everything Buck had done to them earlier. Kindergarten clothes that looked far too grown up on someone still small enough to reach automatically for Buck’s hand every few minutes.
Connor and Kameron’s graves sat beneath the same tree they always did, flowers from Buck and Eddie’s last visit still resting carefully beside the headstones. Theo brightened immediately the second he saw them and hurried forward before Buck could remind him not to run, dropping carefully down onto his knees between the graves while proudly announcing, “Mommy, Daddy, look. I’m startin’ kindergarten today.”
Buck stopped so abruptly Eddie nearly walked into him. For a moment all Eddie could do was watch Buck’s expression fold quietly under the weight of it, Theo sitting there in jeans and trainers and an Avengers T shirt talking excitedly to two graves like this was the most natural thing in the world because to him it was natural now. This was how they included Connor and Kameron. This was family.
Theo remained completely focused on his updates while Buck stood frozen a few feet away trying unsuccessfully to keep himself together. “My teacher’s called Miss Ramirez,” Theo continued seriously while tugging lightly at the straps of his backpack. “An’ Buck made my sandwich into stars because regular sandwiches aren’t special enough for kindergarten.” Eddie heard Buck let out a soft sound beside him that almost resembled a laugh before immediately swallowing it back down again while Theo kept talking happily about backpacks and recess and how Christopher said cafeteria pizza tasted like cardboard. “These’re my new shoes too,” Theo added proudly while sticking one foot out carefully towards the graves before immediately continuing, “An’ I’m gonna be a firefighter when I grow up. Like Buck an’ Eddie,” which nearly wrecked Buck completely.
Eddie moved closer automatically until their shoulders touched lightly, grounding him there while Theo continued chatting happily about school supplies and lunchboxes and how he thought kindergarten probably had better colouring pencils than preschool did. Every tiny detail sounded unbearably important coming out of his mouth, every ordinary little piece of kindergarten excitement made heavier by the fact the people Theo wanted to share it with only existed now in stories and photographs and visits like this.
A few feet away another family moved quietly through the cemetery carrying fresh flowers, their voices low enough to blur into the breeze, and suddenly Buck found himself hit with the strange unbearable normality of it all. Parents were supposed to stand outside classrooms taking photographs and embarrassing their kids before school, not exist in headstones and memories and stories repeated carefully enough that a five year old wouldn’t forget the sound of their names.
Eventually Theo turned enough to look back at Buck and asked softly, “Do Mommy an’ Daddy like my first day outfit?” and Buck’s entire expression crumpled before he finally crossed the last few feet between them and crouched carefully beside him. One hand moved automatically to straighten the backpack strap slipping off Theo’s shoulder while Buck answered quietly, “Buddy, they’d love it.” His voice caught hard enough that he had to pause briefly before adding more softly, “They’d love all of it.”
Theo smiled easily at that, completely certain Buck was telling the truth, before turning back towards the graves and continuing his updates while Buck stayed crouched beside him staring down at Connor and Kameron’s names carved into stone. Eddie watched the grief move openly across his face then, not sharp and immediate the way it had been after the accident, but deeper and quieter instead, built from all the tiny milestones Connor and Kameron kept missing one after another.
After a while Theo leaned sideways carefully against Buck’s shoulder and announced very seriously to the graves that Buck had fought his hair that morning but the curls had won anyway, which finally earned a real laugh from Buck, quiet and shaky around the edges while he muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath and Theo grinned proudly like he’d accomplished something important.
By the time they pulled into the small visitor parking lot outside Durand Elementary, Theo had worked himself back into full kindergarten excitement, practically vibrating in his car seat while reminding Buck and Eddie for at least the fourth time that he already knew how to spell firefighter and that Miss Ramirez was definitely gonna be impressed by that. Buck smiled faintly while pulling the truck carefully into a shaded parking space near the front of the school and reminded him, “Buddy, kindergarten teachers are probably impressed by lots of things besides emergency service career plans,” which Theo immediately rejected as unrealistic while Eddie snorted quietly into his coffee and pointed out, “You also think dinosaurs should legally still exist, so maybe your judgement’s not flawless.”
Theo gasped softly in immediate offence from the backseat while Buck finally killed the engine and climbed out first, automatically moving around to open Theo’s door and unclip him from the harness straps that still looked impossibly small against his chest. Around them the campus buzzed with first day energy, parents crouching to retie tiny trainers and smooth down cowlicks while children bounced between excitement and terror in equal measure. Colourful welcome signs hung along the fencing and teachers stood near the pathways greeting families while clusters of older kids already moved confidently across the blacktop like they owned the place. Durand looked exactly the same as it always had, bright murals still painted along the younger classroom walls while the older buildings sat further back near the basketball courts where Christopher had spent years trying to convince Eddie he definitely wasn’t using his crutches to cheat during races.
For a second Buck just stood there beside the truck with Theo’s tiny hand wrapped automatically around two of his fingers while memories hit him hard enough to almost stop him moving. Christopher at seven years old glaring suspiciously at his second grade classroom because he’d already decided school was “probably overrated” before he’d even met the teacher. Christopher at nine talking Buck into volunteering for career day because apparently firefighters were cooler than everybody else’s parents. Christopher racing down these same pathways on crutches while Eddie shouted after him in both English and Spanish to slow down before he broke something important. The years lived here everywhere.
Beside him Eddie watched Buck’s expression shift subtly through the memories and understood immediately where he’d disappeared to. Christopher had grown up here in so many ways that sometimes it felt like parts of him still lingered around the campus even after graduation, stubborn and loud and impossible to fully outgrow. Now Theo was stepping into those same hallways with curls just as unruly and the same tendency to launch himself towards danger before thinking things through first.
Theo tugged lightly against Buck’s hand while pointing excitedly towards the kindergarten corridor and announcing, “That’s my class over there,” before immediately asking, “Do kindergarteners get permanent markers? Because I already know not to eat them now.” Eddie informed him dryly, “Not eating art supplies is generally considered the bare minimum for academic success,” which earned him a deeply offended, “I wasn’t gonna eat one,” from Theo while Buck laughed quietly and reminded him, “Buddy, you literally licked paint last month.” Theo looked personally betrayed by the existence of witnesses.
The closer they got to the main office, the more familiar faces started appearing. One of the older yard supervisors looked up from the crossing gate first before her entire face brightened with recognition as she called out, “Eddie Diaz?” across the pathway, immediately spotting Buck beside him a second later and laughing warmly. “And Buck too. Oh my god, I haven’t seen you boys since Christopher left.” Theo instantly looked delighted by the fact adults already seemed to know them while Eddie smiled warmly and reminded her, “It’s only been a couple years,” which she dismissed immediately by insisting that was still long enough for Christopher to somehow become taller than half the staff.
Theo straightened proudly enough that his backpack nearly slid straight off one shoulder while announcing, “I’m Theo. I’m startin’ kindergarten today,” earning himself an immediate smile from her as she assured him he’d picked a very good school, only for Theo to ask immediately afterwards, “Do very good schools have dinosaur stickers? Because my preschool only had frog ones an’ honestly that was disappointin’.” Buck had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself laughing while the yard supervisor promised very solemnly that Durand took sticker quality very seriously.
Another teacher further down the walkway suddenly waved enthusiastically towards them and called out that they still talked about Christopher’s fifth grade science fair volcano in the teachers’ lounge because nobody had emotionally recovered from the glitter explosion. Theo gasped in immediate delight at the idea of Christopher causing enough chaos to become part of school history while Eddie groaned quietly, “You two weaponised craft supplies,” and Buck laughed properly for the first time all morning.
By the time they reached room twelve, enough staff members had stopped to say hello and ask after Christopher that Buck could feel the strange overlap of timelines pressing heavily against his chest. Durand still belonged so completely to Christopher in his mind that bringing Theo here almost felt surreal, like two entirely separate versions of his life had folded together unexpectedly. Christopher’s school becoming Theo’s school too. Different years, different grief, same hallway.
Miss Ramirez stood just inside the kindergarten classroom doorway greeting families one by one with the kind of calm warmth kindergarten teachers somehow always carried despite spending every day surrounded by tiny humans running entirely on sugar and noise. Theo immediately edged half behind Buck’s leg the second her attention shifted fully onto him, fingers curling tighter instinctively around Buck’s hand despite all the confidence from earlier. Miss Ramirez smiled softly and crouched slightly to his level while introducing herself and telling him she was very excited he was in her class this year, which Theo considered seriously for a moment before informing her, “I already know how to spell firefighter,” earning exactly the level of impressed enthusiasm he’d clearly hoped for before he immediately added, “An’ I know not to eat markers now too.” “That’s definitely kindergarten level impressive,” she assured him gravely while Theo beamed.
While Theo became briefly distracted by another little boy carrying the exact same Spider-Man lunch bag, Buck stepped slightly closer towards Miss Ramirez and lowered his voice carefully enough that Theo wouldn’t hear the shift in tone. “Hey, there’s just one thing I wanted to make you aware of,” he explained quietly while glancing instinctively towards Theo before continuing. “Theo’s parents died last year and me and my husband are his guardians, but he doesn’t call us Dad or anything like that and we try not to encourage other people to either.” Understanding settled immediately across Miss Ramirez’s face while Buck continued more softly, “If he talks about his mommy and daddy, he means his actual parents. Sometimes he’s talking about memories, sometimes he means visiting them before birthdays or school stuff. We just try really hard to keep them included for him.”
Miss Ramirez’s expression gentled immediately at that while she nodded and assured him quietly that she understood completely and that she’d make sure the classroom aides knew too. The gratitude that hit Buck then felt sharp enough to ache because this was the part nobody warned you about, the constant explaining and clarifying and protecting of grief small enough to fit inside a five year old body. Not just loving Theo, but carrying Connor and Kameron forward with him into every classroom and school form and conversation where somebody innocently asked who was picking him up afterwards.
By the time Buck looked back towards Theo again, Theo had wandered just far enough away to crouch beside a cubby labelled THEO RILEY in bright primary coloured letters. He looked impossibly little there with his oversized backpack and untamed curls and nervous excitement practically vibrating through him, and suddenly Buck understood with brutal clarity why Eddie had always looked quietly devastated after dropping Christopher off at school. It wasn’t just about growing up. It was about standing there watching someone you loved step further out into the world than they’d ever been before and knowing you couldn’t follow them the whole way anymore.
The drive back to the cemetery after drop off felt completely different without Theo in the truck. Too quiet now in a way that pressed heavily against Buck’s ribs, the silence where kindergarten questions and excited rambling had been earlier leaving behind something softer and sadder instead. Eddie rested one hand loosely against Buck’s thigh while they drove, thumb moving absently back and forth because he could practically feel everything Buck was trying not to drown under. Theo had done so well that morning, and somehow that was the part hurting Buck the most. He’d spent days bracing himself for tears or panic or clinginess at the classroom door, for Theo suddenly deciding kindergarten was terrifying and refusing to let go of his hand, but instead Theo had walked into room twelve with huge excited eyes and immediately gotten distracted by blocks and crayons and another little boy with the same lunchbox, pausing only long enough to race back across the classroom one final time and throw himself against Buck’s chest while reminding him very seriously, “You gotta come back later, okay?” before running straight back towards Miss Ramirez the second Buck promised, “Always.”
Buck should’ve felt relieved after that. Instead he’d stood outside the classroom afterwards watching Theo laugh at something another kid said while all the other parents fixed collars and wiped faces and kissed foreheads goodbye, and all he could think about was the fact Theo had been the only little boy in that classroom not looking back for his mommy or daddy. Eddie must’ve felt the shift in him growing heavier the closer they got to the cemetery because by the time Buck parked near the familiar pathway, Eddie leaned across the centre console long enough to press a quiet kiss against his temple before reminding him softly, “He had a good morning,” and Buck swallowed hard before nodding once while Eddie continued more gently, “He’s happy, baby,” which almost made it worse somehow.
For a second Buck just sat there afterwards with both hands still wrapped around the steering wheel long after the engine had gone quiet. Outside, the cemetery looked exactly the same as it had earlier that morning, sunlight filtering through the trees while sprinklers ticked softly somewhere further across the grass, but without Theo’s excited voice filling the silence the grief settled differently now, heavier and harder to outrun. “I know,” Buck admitted eventually, voice rough around the edges. “That’s the problem.” Eddie looked at him quietly for a moment before reaching over again and squeezing the back of his neck once, understanding settling between them without needing anything else explained.
They walked through the cemetery together at first, familiar pathways crunching softly beneath their shoes while the late morning sun filtered through the trees overhead. Everything looked calmer now than it had earlier, quieter without Theo filling every silence with questions and observations, and Buck felt the grief shift again because this visit wasn’t really for Theo anymore. This one was for them. When they reached the point where the pathways split towards Shannon’s section and Connor and Kameron’s, Eddie slowed slightly before glancing towards Buck. Neither of them needed to actually say it out loud anymore. They’d been doing versions of this for over a year now, separate grief existing comfortably beside each other without needing explanation.
For one brief moment Buck caught sight of Eddie further down the opposite pathway after they separated, sunlight catching faintly against the headstone near him while Eddie stood with his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders slightly bowed forward in that familiar quiet posture grief always seemed to pull from him. Then Buck turned back towards Connor and Kameron’s section alone, the ache in his chest building heavier with every step.
Their graves still looked exactly the same as they had less than an hour ago, flowers resting neatly against the headstones while Theo’s tiny footprints remained faintly visible in the grass nearby from where he’d knelt between them earlier. Buck stood there silently for a long moment before finally crouching slowly between the graves, forearms resting against his knees while he stared at their names carved into stone. “He did good today,” he said eventually, voice rougher than he wanted it to sound. “Like… really good. I kept thinking he was gonna get scared or cry or decide he hated school the second we got there, but he just…” Buck scrubbed one hand hard across his face before letting out a quiet breathless laugh that sounded painfully close to falling apart entirely. “He walked right in.”
A breeze shifted softly through the trees overhead while Buck stared down at the grass between his shoes, trying unsuccessfully to steady himself before continuing more quietly, “He made friends already. There was this kid with the same Spider-Man lunchbox and suddenly me and Eddie barely existed anymore.” Another small laugh escaped him before his expression tightened again. “You would’ve loved seeing it. He was so excited this morning. Talked the entire drive there. Wanted to tell you guys about his teacher and his shoes and the stupid star sandwiches I made because apparently regular sandwiches aren’t special enough for kindergarten.”
The words started catching harder the longer he spoke, grief thickening through every sentence now. “There were parents everywhere,” he admitted eventually, quieter still. “Fixing clothes and taking pictures and kneeling down to say goodbye and…” He stopped briefly before forcing himself onward anyway. “And Theo was the only kid there not looking for his mom or dad.” The silence afterwards felt enormous, stretching heavily around him while Buck looked down first at Kameron’s name and then Connor’s. “I hate that you missed it,” he whispered honestly. “I hate that he’s gotta visit you in a cemetery before school instead of just coming home and telling you about his day. You tried so hard to have him. Both of you did. And now he’s starting kindergarten and I’m the one packing lunches and taking pictures and learning school supply lists.”
Emotion climbed hard enough into his chest that Buck had to stop again, eyes burning despite how hard he’d spent all morning trying to keep himself together. “I told Eddie once that I stopped talking to you guys after he was born because if I stayed around, I’d want more,” he admitted eventually, voice cracking slightly around the confession. “And you deserved to just be happy with him without me making everything complicated. I thought walking away meant he’d get everything he deserved.” His jaw tightened while he stared down at the grass between the graves, breathing unevenly through the grief pressing hard against his ribs before finally admitting in a whisper, “I never thought I’d get him back like this. I expected him to find me when he was 18, not me finding him at 4. I know I’ve told you already, but I hate that you only got four years with him.”
Buck’s voice broke properly then, forcing him to stop for a second before continuing anyway because the words had been living inside him too long now not to say them out loud. “I promise I’ll tell him everything I know about you both. I’m mad at myself for not getting to know you more, Kameron. Theo has a weekly playdate with your best friend and her little girl now.” A shaky breath escaped him while he scrubbed hard at his face again. “Keep watching him, okay? I know he’s gonna make my hair go grey and you’ll both be laughing at me.” His expression folded completely around the grief then as he finally whispered, “I miss you.”