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~*~*~
The first thing he noticed was a distant throbbing sensation—though he was unsure where it was coming from—and then, the lights seeping through his closed eyelids. His eyes flashed open instinctively, sending a sharp pain right through to the back of his head and he squeezed them shut again. It was like he’d opened his eyes directly at the sun.
A soft groan escaped him as he blinked repeatedly, trying to see past the brightness to whatever was on the other side. White walls slowly came into focus, and he sucked in a quick, deep breath which triggered a stabbing pain in his lungs.
“Ed–Eddie–!”
There was movement in his periphery, a blurry figure.
Eddie closed his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to keep processing the blinding visual input. Instead, he thought about his fingers and wiggled them on each hand before doing the same with his toes. He could feel them, so, he assumed, they were still attached – though he had heard stories about soldiers who still felt their limbs after they’d been blown or sawn off.
The throbbing sensation became more prominent, but he still couldn’t quite locate what was throbbing. It felt like it was coming from everywhere, his body and the room.
The room was weird. Everything was clinical, clean, and white. Like a real hospital. Maybe they’d upgraded, or something. The last field hospital he’d been in was brown and grimey, overcrowded, underfunded.
Eddie realised somebody was talking at him. His mind felt too blurry to focus on what was being said, but he listened out for the key words, hoping to hear that they might send him home.
“–collapsed on top–”
“–head took the–”
“–brain trauma–”
Well. That should get him sent home.
~*~*~
Eddie woke with a start, to a burning pain in his ribs. His eyes flew open to a dimly-lit room, hands moving to grab at his ribcage to see the damage. His sore fingers were met with fabric, which he scratched at helplessly trying to uncover his wound before he noticed something attached to the back of his hand. He automatically tried to flick it off before comprehending what it was: a cannula tube, stuck down with medical tape.
He followed the tube with his eyes until he found what it was attached to: an IV stand with a bag of clear fluid. Next to the stand, he noticed an oxygen cylinder, which he then realised was attached to a nasal cannula. Eddie’s first instinct was to rip the nasal cannula away from his face, but he didn’t have the energy. His body was tense and sore, and he had to consciously let himself slouch back into the bed, forcing all of his muscles to stand down.
He wanted to go home.
~*~*~
“Eddie.”
Eddie flinched at the sound, even though it was barely a whisper.
“Eddie,” repeated the voice, even lighter. “Hey, Eds.”
With all the strength he could muster, Eddie peeled his eyelids open, letting his eyes adjust to the room. Still white.
“Hey.”
Eddie slowly moved his head to look at whoever was speaking. He blinked a few times, trying to place the face. He couldn’t.
He wanted to speak, to ask what had happened, but his mouth was disgustingly dry. He tried to summon some saliva to no avail, before a clear plastic cup of water was thrust into his eyeline.
“Here,” said the man, kindly. “Drink some water.”
He was achingly familiar in a way. Fluffy, brown curls bouncing on his forehead; sharp, sparkling blue eyes. A pink mark spattered across an eyebrow – a birthmark, the same shade of pink as his lips, which were cracked, but smiling, despite the deep worry lines across his forehead.
He was not a doctor. There was no white coat, no clipboard, no face mask, no surgical gloves, no stethoscope, no scrubs. He was dressed in a green quarter zip sweater and blue jeans. Sneakers. He looked rather cosy.
“How are you feeling?” he asked softly once Eddie pulled the cup away from his face.
Eddie’s mouth felt rejuvenated, so he opened it to speak. “Fine,” he croaked gruffly. He coughed to clear his throat. “What happened?”
“You took a five-storey building to the head.”
Eddie racked his brain for memories but came up empty. “A bomb?” he presumed.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Eddie, a fire. It was a–a five-alarm at an apartment complex. You don’t remember?”
Alarmingly, Eddie found that he couldn’t remember anything. He could barely think over the pounding in his head.
“No,” he muttered.
The man’s eyebrows went even deeper, eyes squinting. It occurred to Eddie that he really had no idea who he was speaking to and he probably should’ve asked.
“How many casualities?” he blurted out instead. “My team?”
His team. His squadron. Greggs…
No. No, Greggs… He was killed in the helicopter crash.
But the others. They survived and…
Eddie went home.
The throbbing pain became excruciating all of a sudden and his vision became dark around the edges. The man was saying something, but all Eddie could hear was blood rushing through his ears.
~*~*~
“Good afternoon, Mr Diaz.”
Eddie blinked. He felt exhausted, but the throbbing pain had gone back to feeling far away instead of all-consuming, so at least there was that.
“I’m Dana, your nurse, I’ve been taking care of you these last few days.”
Dana was a friendly-looking young woman with brown, curly hair and reassuring eyes. She was dressed in dark blue scrubs and had a face mask tucked under her chin.
“How are you feeling?” she asked. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness a bit so we’ve adjusted your pain meds to make you more comfortable.”
“I’m fine,” Eddie insisted, shifting in the bed.
He did feel a little better. The pain was still there in his ribs but it was dialed down, so he could tell the meds were working. He just felt sore and tired.
“What happened?” he questioned. “There was a man in here before but he wasn’t very informative.”
“Oh, Mr Buckley. He’s been really worried. He’s your partner, right?” Dana wondered, fiddling with something on the monitor next to Eddie’s bed.
“My partner?” Eddie repeated, confused. He’d never seen that man before. And Eddie wasn’t… “No. No, I’ve never met him before. My partner, my wife is called Shannon, has she been notified about my injuries?”
Dana stepped back from the machine. She looked confused. “I’m afraid that’s not in your files, Mr Diaz.”
“Yes, it is.”
Dana walked round to the end of his bed where there was a pouch full of documents, which she grabbed before walking back to Eddie’s side, opening the file. “See, here, the spouse option is empty.”
Eddie tried to be patient as he took the paperwork from her, but his stomach was turning.
Full name: Edmundo Ramon Miguel Diaz
Date of birth: 06/26/1992
Age: 33 years, 10 months
“This is wrong,” he mumbled, rereading the words. He cleared his throat, handing back the file. “I’m not 33, I’m 22. The math is wrong, see, I was born in 1992 which makes me 22.”
Dana took the file back, double checking before frowning over the paper at him. “Would you excuse me for a minute, Mr Diaz?”
A few moments later, Dana returned with an older woman who was wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard.
“Hello, Mr Diaz, I’m Dr Geigh, I specialise in neurology. I just want to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay,” she remarked, moving a pair of glasses from her coat pocket to her face.
“Sure,” Eddie agreed passively.
“What do you remember from your accident?” she asked.
“I don’t… remember anything.”
“Do you remember what you were doing before the accident occurred?”
“No.”
“Do you remember how you got to the hospital?”
“No.”
“Do you remember your partner visiting you this morning?”
“There was a man here. He’s not my partner, though. I’m married… to a woman… Shannon. We have a kid together, Christopher.”
Dr Geigh took a minute to write down some notes on her clipboard before looking back at Eddie. “Can you tell me your name and date of birth?”
“What–? Er, Eddie Diaz, June 26th, 1992—I don’t have amnesia or anything, I remember who I am. I’m a medic in the army. 26th battalion, Staff Sergeant Edmundo Diaz.”
“Right, and what year is it now?”
“2014,” he answered, starting to feel irritated. “Look, I know what year it is, I know who I am. I’m just a little bit confused because I remember they sent me home after I got shot last year. Maybe I am missing some time, I don’t remember coming back.”
“And where are you right now, Mr Diaz?”
He frowned. This hospital was clearly much nicer than the medical tent in Afghanistan.
“I… don’t know,” he answered reluctantly.
“Okay, that’s all for now, Mr Diaz,” Dr Geigh said kindly, clicking her pen. “You seem to be experiencing retrograde amnesia.”
“What–?” Eddie pulled his body to sit up in the bed. “How—How long? How much am I missing? Can you—Can someone call my wife? I think I need my wife here.”
Eddie’s throat felt as though it was closing up, his heart beating out of his chest. He finally pulled the nasal cannula off his face as it felt suffocating all of a sudden. The machines beside his bed were beeping uncontrollably.
“Mr Diaz, you need to calm down,” Nurse Dana implored, sounding not-so-calm herself.
He couldn’t calm down. He couldn’t understand what was going on. He remembered going home after the helicopter crash, so why was he not at home? Where was Shannon? What was happening?
Eddie couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and he was so confused and so, so tired.
~*~*~
“Eddie.”
There was a warm weight on his arm. Someone’s hand.
“Shannon?” he mumbled, before registering that whoever spoke had a deep voice – not Shannon. “Wha–?”
His eyes fluttered open slowly, feeling heavy. He blinked a few times until he could make out the face in front of him. Not the same man from before with the worry lines and the fluffy hair and the sparkling blue eyes. This man was older, sitting in a wooden armchair.
“Who–?” Eddie tried to ask but his tongue was numb.
The man smiled kindly, still holding Eddie’s arm, a grounding touch. “I’m Bobby,” he said softly, slowly. “You’re at Cedars-Sinai hospital in Los Angeles.”
Eddie didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say and his tongue didn’t quite feel real, so he listened instead.
“I’m going to give you some information you might find difficult to hear, but Dr Geigh suggested it comes from someone you know.”
I don’t know you, Eddie immediately thought.
“A few days ago, you were injured on the job. A building collapsed while you were inside and you took quite a blow to the head, which caused some minor brain trauma. So far, you’re doing fine and your body is healing as it should be, but you seem to be displaying some symptoms of retrograde amnesia.”
“Amnesia…?” Eddie repeated.
“Eddie, what year is it?” Bobby asked.
“2014.”
Bobby grimaced, which sent Eddie’s stomach turning again. “Eddie, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but I’m afraid it’s actually 2026.”
Eddie’s heart stopped. How could it be 2026?
“No,” he insisted.
“You’re a firefighter with the Los Angeles Fire Department – I’m your Captain,” Bobby continued slowly. “You moved to L.A. in 2018 with your son, Christopher.”
Eddie’s heart started beating again, pounding fiercely inside his ribcage. “Christopher. Where is he?”
“He’s safe, he’s okay. He’s at your house with Buck, your best friend.”
“Where’s Shannon?”
The look in Bobby’s eyes made Eddie’s heart hurt.
“Where is she?” he asked again, refusing to believe what his heart was telling him. “Where?”
“I’m so sorry, Eddie. Shannon died in 2019. She was hit by a car,” Bobby told him sadly.
Eddie let out a shaky breath, gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt. His heart felt like it was shrivelling up inside him. How could Shannon—? Eddie was the one who should’ve been dead, not her. He was supposed to die.
“Do you need some space?” Bobby offered quietly, moving as though to stand up.
“No–!” Eddie exclaimed quickly. He didn’t mean to react quite like that, but he just didn’t want to be alone at that moment. His head was pounding, stomach turning. He felt sick. “Just—Tell me everything. I need to know.”
Maybe it was a stupid thing to demand, being told 12 years of a life he’d missed all in one go, but he was scared. He was scared of not knowing.
“I can do that,” Bobby agreed, sitting back in the chair.
~*~*~
Waking up in the hospital was getting boring. A different day, but the same four plain, white walls, same white bed, same machines, and relentless beeping.
Eddie had agreed to wear his oxygen tube for the rest of the day after Bobby had left. In a weird way, it felt like a clutch, like something normal in this weird world he woke up to. A safety blanket. The nurse, too. Nurse Dana was kind and delicate towards him, which he would resent under any other circumstance, but he was actually grateful for the delicacy at the moment – it made everything else a little more digestible.
Eddie hadn’t seen anyone except the hospital staff since Bobby left. People showed up but he asked Dana not to let them in. The fear he’d felt while Bobby spoke of this amazing life he apparently lived was still gripping him by the shoulders, digging its claws in. It felt like it would never let go.
But now… Eddie was being discharged.
Dana told him that she’d informed his medical proxy, Evan Buckley, and that Evan Buckley had agreed to pick him up. Evan Buckley, who had attempted to visit him everyday – sometimes twice.
Eddie couldn’t face Evan Buckley. Or anyone else, really, but it didn’t exactly help that Bobby hadn’t once mentioned an Evan Buckley in the story of Eddie’s life. It didn’t make sense, since Dana referred to ‘Mr Buckley’ as Eddie’s partner.
Maybe, as his fire Captain, Bobby could only tell him so much. Maybe Bobby didn’t know Eddie had a male partner. Eddie didn’t know he had a male partner.
Eddie was fully dressed for the first time in forever. He was wearing blue jeans and a hoodie, which felt much more comfortable than wearing a hospital gown. Underneath his hoodie was a newly-changed bandage around his middle to support his broken ribs.
Truthfully, he felt a lot better in his body. The ache in his bones slowly disappeared as the days dragged on, and the burning pain in his ribs was significantly less as well. The throbbing sensation had reduced to only affect his head, which was uncomfortable but manageable. His ribs were still broken, of course, but they would heal completely within 6 weeks. His brain, on the other hand…
Dr Geigh couldn’t give him a timeframe for his memories coming back. In fact, she couldn’t give him any guarantees at all.
“Eddie, your partner is here,” Dana said from the doorway. “How’re you doing?”
Eddie’s breath stuttered. “I’m good,” he promised.
“Shall I send him in when he’s finished signing your release forms?” she asked.
Eddie nodded.
His throat felt dry all of a sudden. He sat down on the bed to stablise himself, and tried to remember Evan Buckley.
All he could find was the memory of him standing beside Eddie’s bed the other day. He closed his eyes, trying to see Evan’s face in his mind.
Deep, blue eyes: light, but thick eyebrows, one with a smattering of delicate pink skin; a broad, straight nose; full, chapped lips; shiny, bouncy curls; wide shoulders; large hands; long legs.
He was objectively beautiful. Eddie could admit that… inside the quiet confines of his mind.
When he opened his eyes, Evan Buckley was standing opposite him. His lips were parted, eyes wide, just looking.
“Sorry,” he breathed out softly. “I didn’t mean to stare, you just—You looked peaceful.”
“Oh.”
“Are–Are you ready to go?” Evan asked.
His voice was warm, friendly. Comforting.
“Yeah.”
Leaving the hospital with a virtual stranger was not a new experience for Eddie, but at least the last time he’d done it, the stranger was in the armed forces and they were able to share stories together.
Eddie couldn’t share anything with this man. All he could do was try not to get caught staring.
Evan Buckley’s truck was nice. It had a weirdly comforting smell, and there was something about it that made Eddie feel secure.
Evan cleared his throat. “So–So I’m gonna take you home,” he started explaining, sounding nervous. “I’ve stocked the fridge with things I know you like, but–but if you wanted to stop for food or anything on the way, that–that’s okay, too. We can do that, if–if you want.”
Eddie found the nervous stammering to be inexplicably adorable, but he felt bad that Evan felt nervous.
“I’m good,” Eddie replied, doing his best to sound normal. “I ate at the hospital. Is Chris at home? Who’s watching him?”
“O–oh. He’s—um—he’s on his own. I–I hope that’s okay,” Evan stuttered, fingers gripping the steering wheel.
Right. Eddie’s toddler was actually a teenager. God.
He let out a shaky breath. “Of course. He’s… He’s fifteen, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Yep. He’s–He’s the best. You’re gonna love him—Well, of course, you already do, he’s your son,” Evan said. He seemed jittery, fingers clenching and unclenching on the wheel, knee jerking every now and then. “Is it… Is it weird?”
Before Eddie could think of an answer, Evan corrected himself. “No, sorry, I’m sure it is weird, that was a stupid question. How are you doing? Are you—Is this gonna be okay? For you? Sorry, I’ve never done this before—Er, I’ve never—“
“Evan, it’s fine. It’s okay. I’m not—There’s not going to be a test on how well you handle this. Just breathe. Relax.”
Strangely enough, Evan’s anxiety was causing Eddie’s to lessen. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing this alone, even if he couldn’t remember Evan. Eddie didn’t know this man, but he was grateful he was there.
“I should be the one comforting you,” Evan mumbled, flexing his fingers again. His death grip on the wheel loosened up though, which Eddie took as a good sign.
“You’re doing fine. I feel comforted,” Eddie promised. “Tell me about Chris.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Evan relaxed a lot as he spoke about Chris, and it was actually genuinely comforting to hear. The way his eyes lit up, the way his cheeks squashed from the weight of his smile. The warmth in his voice. He cared about Chris a lot, and it made Eddie’s chest feel light to see that.
He clearly chose a good partner, even if it happened to be a man.
Eddie’s heart jumped when they pulled up beside an unfamiliar bungalow. South Bedford Street. His son was inside. His life was inside. How was he supposed to just walk in there?
Evan turned the engine off but neither of them made a move to get out.
“Do you need a minute?” Evan asked carefully. “I can give you some space—“
“No—!” Eddie’s hand moved swiftly to grab Evan’s wrist. “Stay.”
Eddie wasn’t facing Evan, could just about make him out in his periphery, but he didn’t miss the way Evan softened at the touch. Or at the request.
“I’m here,” Evan vowed gently.
“Can you just—Can you just talk?”
“About what?”
“Anything. I just need—noise.”
“I’ve been learning a lot about whales recently.”
Eddie spent the next 10 minutes sitting stiffly in Evan’s truck, learning about the habits of different whale breeds. It was ridiculous, but it was good. Evan’s voice was calming and whale facts were simple.
“—and–and even though the blue whale is the largest mammal ever, they can’t even swallow anything bigger than a grapefruit, so—”
“I’m ready,” Eddie interjected.
“Are you sure?”
“As I’ll ever be to re-meet my teenage son who was a toddler last week.”
“Right.”
The two of them exited the vehicle together and Eddie let Evan lead him into the house.
It was a nice house. Eddie was pleasantly surprised. He still couldn’t quite fathom that he lived in Los Angeles, that he could even afford to live in California, that he’d ever had the balls to leave El Paso in the first place. He almost felt proud… Except for the fact that he had never had the balls to stay in El Paso, let alone leave El Paso. It was complicated.
There was a teenage boy on the couch, sitting forward with some sort of controller in his hand. The huge television in front of him was paused on some game.
Eddie got shivers seeing his teenage son for the first time. It was—It was clearly Chris… but, but a teenager.
His heart lurched.
It was hard enough missing out on Christopher’s early milestones, watching him grow and learn. But Eddie chose to do that, knowing he’d either die or stop running. He lived by the general idea that if he lived, he’d go home to his son one day.
Now, the choice was gone. He wasn’t dead, but he missed 12 years anyway.
There was no way to make sense of that, no way to rectify it.
“God,” he exhaled emotionally.
He didn’t even know how to approach a Christopher that was fifteen years old. He felt like dropping to his knees and begging for his son's forgiveness for not being there.
But he was… He was there. Or he had been.
He stumbled over to the couch like a newborn lamb, unstable, until he dropped down beside his son and wrapped his arms around him. He was crying.
“You’re so big,” he choked out.
Chris hugged back just as tightly, arms snaking around Eddie’s neck – almost like he hadn’t grown at all.
“I love you, dad.”
“I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry.”
Hours passed. Eddie didn’t move from the couch. Neither did Chris. His game controller was abandoned on the coffee table as he stayed curled up in his dad’s lap like a small child. Eddie knew that this probably wasn’t fair on his son, to coddle him like this, not now he was 15, but Chris was letting him.
They sat like that for ages, intertwined, talking quietly about the life Eddie couldn’t remember.
It wasn’t until Christopher’s stomach grumbled loudly that they parted.
“I’m starving,” Chris complained.
“Yeah I’m not surprised!” Eddie laughed.
“I’ll ask Buck to make us something,” Chris offered, pulling himself up off the couch.
Eddie sat up. “Buck…? He’s coming?”
He wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet another person just yet, he was pretty drained emotionally and physically already.
Christopher gave him a weird look. “He never left..?”
“What–?” Eddie was deeply confused. Evan had told him Chris was on his own. “Where–?” He hadn’t noticed anyone else in the house when he got here.
Chris shrugged. “I think he went to your bedroom when you started to get all mushy.” Then he started to make his way down the hallway to the bedrooms.
Eddie’s heart was racing, hands sweating as he waited for Chris to return with…
Evan.
Oh.
Oh.
Evan Buckley. Of course. Of course the best friend Bobby had spoken so highly about was his partner. Eddie wanted to smack the palm of his hand to his forehead, but, well, he already had brain trauma.
“Any requests?” Evan—Buck—asked.
Eddie looked at him blankly.
“Food,” Buck clarified, heading through to the kitchen.
“Would kill for a grilled cheese,” Chris commented nonchalantly.
“I was asking your dad,” Buck chided, but opened the fridge and grabbed for the cheese. “You okay with a grilled cheese, Eds?”
“Ye–Yeah.”
Evan Buckley, Eddie’s partner, was Buck.
Buck, the man who, according to Bobby, risked his life to save Eddie’s when he was shot by a sniper. Buck, the man who kept Eddie’s son safe in the midst of a tsunami. Buck, who rented Eddie’s house when he went back to Texas.
Now it made sense. Finally.
He’d not been thinking about it – his relationship with Evan Buckley. It was too much. Eddie had woken up with 12 years of his life suddenly missing; a toddler who was suddenly a teenager, a dead wife, and a whole new life in California. He couldn’t think about the implications of his partner being a man.
He still—He wasn’t going to consider the implications of his partner being a man. He wasn’t.
But knowing now, that his partner Evan Buckley was the Buck that Bobby had spoken so highly about, the one that had gone above and beyond to protect Eddie and his son… Something slotted into place somewhere within him.
The grilled cheese was perfect. More than perfect, actually. Eddie had been eating hospital food for a week, and before that, the last meal he could actually remember having was – well, it wasn’t a home-cooked meal.
Getting to sit on his couch, in his home, learning the dynamic between Buck and Christopher was the best part of it, though.
Chris was better than Eddie could’ve imagined. He was funny and cheeky and sweet and clever. Eddie’s heart was hammering as his son joked around with Buck. He was overwhelmed with pride.
He could practically feel the love in the room, could almost reach out and grab it. This was a family. This was his family.
Holy shit.
~*~*~
Eddie woke up again, feeling groggy, drained of energy. He wasn’t in the hospital though, so at least there was that.
He was in a large bed, tucked under the covers. The scent of the bedding was comforting, so he pulled it closer. The room he was in was dark, light seeping through the edges of a blind across a window. He could see shadowy shapes around the room and spent time analysing each one. A wardrobe, a dresser, a bedside cabinet, a shelf, a door. It was a meaningless task, but it gave Eddie something to cling to.
He must’ve passed out. Again.
He’d been doing that a lot recently. Dana had said it was completely normal, and could be due to an overload of information or emotions, from over exerting his mind and body.
It was frustrating. The passing out. The surge of something right before. He wasn’t emotionally intelligent enough to identify what was going on inside his own head. The constant jackhammering of his heart was annoying, feeling anxious all the time. It was debilitating.
He couldn’t help but wish his injury was something more physical. Loss of limb. Disfiguration. Anything but brain trauma. He could deal with anything else, he knew he could. Physical therapy, relearning how to use his body – he could do that.
Eddie had never been one for handling emotions. He just pushed through. Sometimes, he didn’t even let himself name the feeling before casting it aside. He was emotionally inept, which was something he could thank his parents for.
The thought of his parents got him moving. He slid out from under the covers, still in his jeans, and focused on walking across the room to the door. The pain in his ribcage was agonising and his entire body felt stiff.
By the time Eddie made it to the couch, he felt like passing out again.
The moment he collapsed on the couch, Buck, who was watching some sitcom Eddie couldn’t place, shot up and practically sprinted to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding the hospital bag with Eddie’s medication and a glass of water.
“You need to take this,” he instructed, reading the packaging. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a train,” Eddie groaned.
“Almost.” Buck sat back down beside Eddie carefully, so as not to jostle him, and handed him two small, pink pills. “You should’ve shouted, I would’ve brought them to the bedroom.”
“I didn’t think you’d still be here. I–I—Where’s Chris?”
“In his room, don’t worry. I–I know you don’t…” Buck trailed off, drawing his eyes away from Eddie’s face. “I know this is—You don’t—You don’t know me.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said automatically.
“No–! No, it’s not your fault. It was—I should’ve—You—”
“Evan, take a breath.”
Buck turned his whole body to face Eddie, eyes meeting almost as a reflex. He let out a controlled breath. “People don’t—generally—call me Evan,” he noted.
“Oh, sorry, I—”
“No, it’s—I like it… when it’s you. Normally, you save it for special occasions,” he explained bashfully.
“Is my amnesia not special enough?” Eddie asked, aiming for a joking tone. It was silly, the trepidation he felt about attempting to joke with his… partner… but his heart was, once again, slamming against the walls of its enclosure.
Eddie took note of the way Buck’s eyebrows furrowed with concern before straightening back out at the realisation, the way his eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled. Buck was cute. You know, for a grown man. Eddie wondered what it was about Buck that drew him in to begin with. He wasn’t—He’d never been, well, interested in men. It just wasn’t a thing. For Eddie. Not a viable option for his journey. But if he accepted Evan Buckley, a man, as his partner, then something must’ve changed for him somewhere over the years. Something that Eddie, now, couldn’t quite comprehend.
But he wanted to.
He wanted this—this fascinating life that he’d somehow found.
“No, of course it is,” Buck agreed wholeheartedly. “You can call me Evan as much as you like, I don’t mind.”
Eddie smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He was not impervious to Buck’s charm.
“I know that you don’t… Obviously, you don’t remember me, so you don’t—know me, which means you don’t trust me. And that’s okay,” Buck maintained, pressing forward. “I’m not here to try to force you to remember me, I–I’m here to support you – and that support is going to come out in lots of different ways, including me being there for Chris. I want you to get better because I know—because I can imagine that having memory loss is… discombobulating, and I don’t want you to use up all of your energy w–worrying about things that I can take care of for you.”
“Evan—”
“Even if you don’t trust me, I hope you can let me help.”
The thing was—the inexplicable thing was—Eddie did trust Buck. It went against the core of his being to trust someone he didn’t know, and yet, he couldn’t help it. Buck radiated softness, goodness, kindness. He made Eddie’s heart feel warm, safe.
The life Eddie remembered was perilous, chaotic, unstable. He lived and breathed violence because he was too scared to face himself and too stubborn to adhere to his parents wishes. He chose Afghanistan because it felt like an easier warzone than wherever Shannon was – a cruel, but honest truth. It wasn’t Shannon’s fault, it was his. How could their marriage have worked if he was this?
“I trust you,” he whispered unintentionally. It just slipped out.
Their eyes met again like magnets. Like the sun beaming on the moon, casting it in light.
“I know you,” he added, unable to stop himself. “I mean, I don’t remember you, but I know you. I feel it. Does that make sense?”
Buck nodded, eyes glistening, and Eddie felt his heart swelling inside him. He reached out, finding Buck’s hand with his cold fingertips.
“I think everything’s gonna be okay.”
For what felt like the first time in forever, safely tucked into Buck’s side, Eddie dozed off naturally rather than passing out.
~*~*~
Eddie was gently woken up by Buck, tugging at his sleeve and calling his name quietly. When he opened his eyes, the TV had been switched off, the curtains closed, and Buck was sitting even closer than before.
“Come on, Eds, you should go to bed,” he advised, standing up.
He held out a hand towards Eddie, who grabbed it and used it to pull himself up. Eddie wasn’t expecting Buck to pull at the same time, and so it was an accident how he rocked right into Buck’s personal space. What wasn’t an accident, was how Eddie snaked his arms around Buck’s middle, pulling him in closer. He didn’t know he was going to hug Buck until it was already happening.
Two full seconds passed before Buck relaxed into it, arms wrapping around Eddie, head dropping gently onto his shoulder. They were so close, their ears were pressed together. Eddie wondered if Buck could hear the blood rushing through his.
“What’s this for?” Buck asked smoothly, adjusting his arms.
Eddie pulled back, face hot. He turned around to step around the couch so he didn’t have to look at Buck as he answered, “I just needed it.”
He made his way to the bedroom without checking if Buck was following – he was.
“How do I—? What’s my–What’s my bedroom routine?”
Buck gave him a look before walking to Eddie’s chest of drawers, opening the top drawer and pulling out some clothes – sweat shorts and a tank top. He threw them on the bed in front of Eddie.
“Believe it or not, you’re not really a pyjama guy,” he pointed out.
“Are you—Are you staying?”
“I was planning on it – if it’s alright with you. It’s your first night home with amnesia, I wanted to be here in case you wake up and you don’t know where you are, or in case something goes wrong. Not that it will go wrong—! I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Right.”
Eddie grabbed the clothes off the bed and looked at Buck once more before heading to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, used the toilet and got changed quickly before returning to the bedroom where Buck was now dressed in mismatched pyjamas, sitting on the end of the bed, staring at his phone.
“Everything okay?” Eddie asked him.
“Yeah, just texting Maddie,” Buck explained, pocketing his phone. “My–My sister.”
Maddie, Buck’s sister, who was married to their colleague and friend, Chimney.
“Right. How is she? And the–the children?” Eddie questioned, just to make conversation.
He slipped into bed, pulling the covers right up to his chin, and the movement caused Buck to stand up.
“They’re good!” Buck said, beaming in a way that made Eddie feel warm. He walked over to the door and the warmth in Eddie’s chest dropped to his stomach.
“Where are you going?”
Buck spun around and raised an eyebrow at the mild distress in Eddie’s voice. “I’m just going to the bathroom, Eds. Is that okay?”
“Are you–Are you coming back after?”
Buck softened visibly. “Yes, Eddie. I will be 2 minutes and then I’ll come back, okay?”
Eddie nodded, embarrassed. He didn’t mean to sound desperate but he felt desperate in a way he didn’t really understand. It made no sense to him that he felt drawn to a man he had known for less than 24 hours. He felt safe with a man that he’d known for less than 24 hours. Logically, it was probably an effect of the amnesia – his mind didn’t remember Buck, but his body did…?
He just didn’t want to be away from Buck. It felt like Buck was the only sure thing in the world, the only thing Eddie knew.
As promised, Buck returned 2 minutes later with a damp face and fresh breath. He climbed onto the bottom of the bed and crossed his legs.
“She was asking how you are,” he said. “Maddie.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth,” Buck insisted, shifting closer to Eddie. “You’re actually doing really well.”
“Actually?” Eddie scoffed, frowning. “Did you not think I would do well?”
Buck shrugged. “I didn’t have any expectations, Eddie. I just know that if it was me experiencing retrograde amnesia… I’d be absolutely inconsolable.”
“Yeah?”
Buck shifted closer even more so. “It’s not a small thing, Eddie. It’s actually crazy. You’re missing 12 years, that’s practically an entire lifetime. And so much has changed for you in those 12 years, you’re in a completely different place now. I would be losing my mind in your shoes. I’m genuinely impressed that you’re functioning.”
“I’m hardly functioning, Buck. I’ve been in bed for the last 8 days. I didn’t see anyone when I was in the hospital.”
They were knee-to-knee now, through the bedcovers.
“You’re here now,” Buck acknowledged. “That’s the important thing, isn’t it? You’re making progress without even knowing it.”
“Today was hard,” Eddie admitted, shamefully.
Buck’s hand found rest on Eddie’s knee, practically burning a hole in the blanket. “That’s okay. It’s over now.”
Eddie sucked in a breath. His heart was thumping vigorously, either from the proximity or the delicacy of his conversation, or both. Today was hard. But Buck was there.
“Thank you for being here,” Eddie marvelled, gingerly placing his hand over Buck’s.
Buck looked down at their hands with big eyes, then back to Eddie’s face. “There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than right here,” Buck vowed solemnly. “In this house. With you and Christopher.”
“You mean that?”
“One day, you’ll stop wondering whether I’ll stay. You’ll just know – it’s what we do. We have each other’s backs.”
Eddie’s head pulsed fiercely, causing him to wince.
“Hey, you okay?” Buck worried, hand rising from his knee to cup his cheek.
“Yeah,” Eddie promised. “Yeah. Just–Just had a thought—or, like, an urge. I think… It feels like a memory. Like deja vu, almost.”
“You remembered something?”
“Not–Not really. More like an echo of a memory. Just—You can have my back any day. Does that mean anything to you?”
Buck’s eyes became wet. “Wow,” he mumbled. “Yeah. You said that to me on our first shift together.”
“Can you tell me?” Eddie requested quietly. He pulled the duvet down on the other side of the bed, gesturing for Buck to get in beside him, which he did without hesitation.
An inch apart, both warm under the covers, in the dim light from the moon through the window, Buck walked him through their first shift together, and Eddie listened avidly as a piece of him unlocked.
~*~*~
The next time Eddie woke up was definitely the best time since his injury.
His bed was pleasantly warm, the room was dark, and Eddie’s entire body was pressed against someone. Buck. Eddie’s face was smushed on Buck’s soft, sturdy chest, and one of Buck’s big, strong arms was wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders. Buck was like the sun in that moment, radiating heat, with his own gravitational pull.
Eddie pushed himself even further into Buck’s embrace and let his eyes fall closed again, breathing in the unfamiliar-familiar scent of Buck.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Buck mumbled, voice thick with the morning.
“Very much. ‘S warm and you smell so good,” Eddie admitted truthfully, feeling a ball of heat ignite in his stomach. Somewhere between shame and hunger.
With his ear pressed to Buck’s chest, Eddie could hear the speed of Buck’s heart.
“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting his head up enough to see Buck’s face.
“Yeah, I’m—I’m good,” Buck promised, but it didn’t change the fact that his heart was racing.
“Do I make you nervous?” Eddie murmured, dropping his chin down to rest on Buck’s chest.
Buck lifted his head abruptly, without jostling Eddie. “No–!” he insisted, sounding a little panicked. “No! It’s just, you know – we don’t usually do this, and–and I’m bisexual.”
“We don’t usually… cuddle?” Eddie asked, heart deflating. “Really?”
“Well… No. Not—Sometimes we hug. You–You’re not really into physical touch, I guess,” Buck explained woefully.
That didn’t sound right. Maybe Eddie was holding back. Maybe, despite this perfect life that Bobby and Chris had described, maybe he was still finding ways to punish himself. But Eddie—this Eddie—didn’t want that. If he was living such a wonderful life, firefighting in Los Angeles with his beautiful partner, living together in this bungalow and raising his amazing teenage son together… he should let himself be happy.
“That’s not true,” Eddie said quietly.
Buck sat up fully, maneuvering Eddie’s body so he didn’t fall flat on his face. Eddie took it as a sign to sit up beside Buck.
“What—Really?”
Eddie shrugged. “I—I clearly don’t quite understand your version of me, but he was obviously holding back if he told you he doesn’t like physical touch.”
“He—er, you—never really told me that, I guess I just assumed. You don’t really initiate physical touch. Well, o–other than, like, putting your hand on my shoulder.”
“Seriously?” Eddie frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. I’ve literally known you for 24 hours and I want to stitch our bodies together.”
Buck coughed loudly, abruptly. “Wh–What–?”
Eddie shrugged again. “You’re the only thing I know. I just want to stay here with you and never face the outside world.”
Buck coughed loudly, again. “Eddie—You–You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Eddie’s stomach churned. Did he take Buck for granted? Why was Buck genuinely shocked by Eddie’s comments?
“Look, I’m sorry—”
“No, no—No! I’m just—I’m sorry. I’m not really used to you just… saying things. You’re normally more—reserved, I guess,” Buck tried to explain, gesturing aimlessly with his hands. “Most of the time, I have to, like, pry information from you. Especially regarding your innermost thoughts and feelings. This–This is nice. I like knowing you,” he said softly, looking earnesting into Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie felt himself tearing up. His heart was clawing at his ribs. “It’s so frustrating to have no memories, because I still have all the feelings. I can’t remember your birthday, or your favourite colour, or your favourite meal, but I still love you. I know I love you.”
Buck gasped inexplicably. “I–I–It’s—” He climbed out of bed, stumbling as his feet touched the floor. “That–That’s normal, I think, for–for, um, retrograde amnesia as a result of a brain injury. Because the memories are stored in the hippocampus part of your brain which is in your temporal lobe, and emotions are part of the limbic system, which is also in your temporal lobe, but it’s possible that your head injury only hit the hippocampus so only your memories are affected but your limbic system still works normally so your brain will still react when you like or dislike something, but you just won’t remember why – I’ve been researching amnesia, obviously,” he rambled, hardly taking a breath. “And I—I love you, too, man, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. You do need to face the rest of the world at some point though, I’m afraid, because it wouldn’t be good for your health to stay cooped up in bed forever.”
“Right. Right.” Eddie nodded.
“In fact, I’m gonna—” Buck started walking backwards towards the door, gesturing in that direction with his thumb. “—go and make some breakfast. For you. And me. And for Chris, because lord knows that kid is like a space vacuum when it comes to food. He’s a growing boy, and he likes pancakes so I’m going to make pancakes. Is that okay with you? You normally have chocolate and bananas on yours, which I’m assuming is still good, unless you preferred something else 12 years ago, in which case I can—”
“Chocolate and banana is fine,” Eddie confirmed, raising an eyebrow.
Buck walked into the doorframe on his way out, which Eddie unfortunately found extremely endearing.
Eddie let himself enjoy the full expanse of the bed for a few moments, twisting and stretching until his bladder demanded attention.
He rolled out of bed and took himself to the bathroom where he used the toilet, washed his hands and brushed his hair. He took the time to really look at himself in the mirror, taking in the way his face had aged since the last he remembered. He couldn’t pinpoint all the ways in which he’d changed but there were certainly signs of aging – fine lines where there had previously been none. He smiled at himself in the mirror, pretending it was to check if it had changed at all, but really he was weirdly pleased to see himself look old. Or, not old, but older.
Eddie was nearly 34 years old. A fully-fledged adult. With a teenage son and a meaningful career. His own house. A serious relationship. A life. Everything he’d never dared to dream of.
He slipped his top off to look at his body. Where he used to be lithe and slender, he was now thicker with muscle, bulkier. His biceps were visible without flexing. He had sculpted abs.
It made sense – his brain conjured images of him working out alongside Buck, and heat erupted in his stomach. Buck was huge.
Eddie removed his shorts and underwear, feeling a little more awkward at checking out his thick thighs and surprisingly round ass.
He decided to put his nakedness to good use and hopped into the shower.
There were countless hair care bottles and tubes for curly hair, which Eddie categorically did not have, but it smelled good so he used the shampoo and conditioner anyways.
When he finished dressing himself in black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt, Eddie made his way to Christopher’s bedroom, only to find it empty.
He found Christopher in the kitchen, side by side with Buck as they made pancakes together, Chris in charge of flipping.
“Morning buddy,” Eddie greeted his son, kissing him on the top of his head. He then leaned in close to Buck, resting his cheek on Buck’s shoulder to watch Chris flip the next pancake. “We should do something tomorrow.”
“Like what?” Chris wondered, tipping the pancake onto a plate.
“Well, today I just want to stay at home and get to know this place a little more, but Buck seems to think I shouldn’t stay home all day everyday, so I was thinking maybe we could go see Bobby tomorrow?”
Buck straightened his back, causing Eddie’s face to slip. Eddie pressed a delicate kiss to the back of Buck’s shoulder before taking a seat at the dining table.
“Re–Really–?” Buck asked, hopefully.
“Well, I think it could be good to see other people in my life, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to see anyone else. Bobby came to visit me in the hospital, so I’m vaguely familiar with him.”
“Okay—Yeah, we can do that. Do you think you’d be okay seeing Athena as well? We could go over to their house for lunch or something, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Or–Or meet Bobby somewhere if you don’t want to see Athena—“
“I’m good with going to theirs,” Eddie promised.
Buck brought a plate over and placed it on the table in front of Eddie. The pancakes were smothered with chocolate spread, decorated with banana slices in the shape of a smiley-face. Eddie’s heart flipped at the domesticity.
The rest of the day was perfect. It almost made Eddie forget about the pain in his ribs and in his head. Buck was still making sure he was taking his meds at all the right times, which was convenient because Eddie would’ve forgotten. The domesticity of the day made time speed up and slow down simultaneously, moments blurring together like a movie montage.
Eddie hardly moved from the couch all day, content to just watch movies with his two boys. Chris was unreasonably excited about Eddie’s amnesia, because it meant they could rewatch his favourite movies and Eddie couldn’t remember if he was going to enjoy them or not. He did for the most part, except when Chris tried to trick him into watching Stephen King’s IT – “We had IT in the nineties, Christopher, I know it’s about a killer clown and I’m not watching!”
He did relent to watching the entire Captain America trilogy, though.
Buck made lasagne for dinner with a recipe he referred to as ‘Bobby’s famous lasagne’, which was the best thing Eddie had ever tasted, and then Eddie hobbled to bed for an early night.
~*~*~
Eddie woke up the next morning feeling somewhat refreshed. His head was still sore, and there was still an ache in his ribs, but it felt manageable. He turned to look at Buck’s sleeping form, trying to memorise the shape of his nose and the way his parted lips moved with every breath. It was such a peaceful thing to wake up to, Eddie’s heart felt full.
Buck was beautiful when he slept. The crease across his forehead was nonexistent, but there was still a slight trace of crows feet at the outer corners of his eyes. Eddie wanted to place gentle kisses on either one, but he refrained in case Buck was a light sleeper. Instead, he rolled out of bed and made for the shower.
When he got back, Buck was in the middle of getting dressed; blue jeans on but undone, revealing the grey band of his boxers, green t-shirt bundled up on his wrists as he prepared to lift it over his head. Eddie stopped him, though, taking long strides across the bedroom until he was in Buck’s space, slipping a hand to the back of Buck’s neck, pulling him closer and closer until their lips collided.
Buck flinched back within a split second of making contact.
“Wh–What are you—?!”
“It’s okay,” Eddie reassured him, “I want this.”
He pulled Buck back in, pressing their mouths together again, lips slotting into place like puzzle pieces. His other arm came up to wrap around Buck’s shoulder, trying to get even closer. Buck’s lips were warm and plush, moving steadily wih Eddie’s. His arms, still tangled in his shirt, dangled helplessly between them. Eddie slid his hands down from Buck’s neck to grip his broad shoulders, just to feel his fingers sink into the softness of his muscles.
His chest was tight when they separated, demanding air.
Buck’s eyes remained closed, lips parted. Eddie had no choice but to steal one more, brief kiss.
“Wha–What was that for?” Buck mumbled, sounding dazed.
Eddie smiled brightly. “I just wanted to try it,” he bravely admitted. He smoothed his arms down Buck’s bare biceps, squeezing at the muscles gently.
“Oh–Oh…”
Eddie left Buck in the bedroom to finish getting changed, and went to check on Chris. He knocked gently before slowly pushing the door open.
“Come in!” Chris called.
He was sprawled out on his bed when Eddie entered his room, pressing buttons frantically on some handheld console.
Eddie’s heart panged.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yeah. Yep!” Chris responded, pressing a button on his console with finality, tossing it onto his pillow, and climbing off his bed.
He was so tall, long legs, messy light hair. Eddie studied him, looking for signs of Shannon. He felt so guilty, having barely given her a second thought since learning about her death. The news should’ve paralysed him—she was his wife—but he didn’t really feel anything, almost like the information that she had died had slipped to the very back of his brain so he could pretend it wasn’t real.
It wasn’t real. None of it. One moment, Eddie was married to a woman and they had a beautiful toddler together, and Eddie was a soldier… Then he woke up and all of that was gone. His trainwreck of a life had been switched for this.
“Dad?” Chris suddenly asked, voice cutting over the ringing in Eddie’s ears he hadn’t even noticed was there.
“Yeah?”
“Where’d you go?”
“I’m right here, mijo.”
Chris looked at him, and Eddie saw it. Shannon. The concern and the understanding. Eddie always hated that look. It felt like she had just discovered a part of Eddie he wouldn’t know for years to come, and now Christopher was looking at him the same way.
“I’m fine,” Eddie promised, nudging his son’s arm to emphasise his part. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Eddie’s headache returned in full force as they pulled up to Bobby and Athena’s place. He felt unwell, exhausted all of a sudden.
He gripped Buck’s arm as the pair of them followed Christopher up the stoop to Bobby’s front door.
Chris lifted a crutch to bang against the door, but before it made contact, the door swung open to reveal a short, black woman with a warm smile.
“Eddie,” she greeted kindly, leaning in.
Eddie’s heart pounded as he politely let her kiss his cheek.
“Come on in, how’re you doing?”
Eddie clung to Buck as they entered Athena’s house, taking in the surroundings like he would find something important. As they stepped down the stairs down to the living area, Eddie’s head throbbed violently, like his brain was trying to get out.
You’re gonna stand there with a hundred something bodies on you and tell me I’m not fit for duty?
Go to Hell, Bobby.
Bobby was behind the kitchen counter, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, scrutinising the back of a jar. He looked so gentle and harmless that Eddie’s stomach started to burn.
Go to Hell, Bobby.
Eddie’s vision was blurry. His grip tightened on Buck’s bicep as he let himself be guided to the couch. The feeling of Buck’s muscles shifting under his fingers was the only thing grounding him at that moment. His legs felt like lead with every step and he was relieved to drop on the couch beside Buck.
This was too much. He should’ve stayed in bed.
His clammy hands slipped down Buck’s sleeve, circling around his wrist and forearm like a lifeline.
Go to Hell, Bobby. You’re gonna stand there with a hundred something bodies on you and tell me I’m not fit for duty? Go to Hell, Bobby.
“Eddie, are you okay?” Buck spoke directly into his ear.
Only then did he realise his eyes were squeezed shut, and when he opened them, Buck, Bobby and Athena were all looking at him with concern.
Eddie’s mouth was dry.
“Yeah,” he croaked. He extracted his now-tingling hands from Buck’s arm and pushed himself up off the couch. “Need the bathroom,” he lied.
Eddie stumbled out of the room and found his way to the bathroom with ease – like his feet memorised the way even if his brain hadn’t. He closed the door behind him, leaning up against it, out of breath suddenly. Somehow, 15 steps felt like 15 thousand.
“Dad—“ Christopher’s frantic voice sounded a mile away. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he was there. “—you’re having a panic attack—!”
That made sense.
Shortness of breath, sweaty hands, dry mouth, erratic heartbeat, fuzzy senses.
And the prickly feeling in his cheeks, the burning sensation growing in his stomach, the pounding headache.
It felt like he was dying.
“I’m—I’m gonna die—“ he gasped out, unable to control himself.
“You’re not gonna die,” Chris assured him, guiding him to sit on the toilet. “You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe.”
“I can’t—“
“Yes you can. You are. Just keep breathing.”
Eddie couldn’t feel his feet anymore, could only feel his son’s small, delicate hands clasping onto his own. It felt like all of his organs were dropping down through his body into his shoes.
Time felt like slow motion. Every choppy inhale felt like he was breathing fire.
“Breathe in,” Chris instructed, demonstrating with a deep breath in through his nose. “I’m right here. We’re at Bobby’s house. Breathe out.”
The confidence with which Chris spoke to him, the firm grip of his hands, was the thing that got Eddie through.
After a while, his breath slowly began to even out a little, still giving way to sharp gasps here and there, and the numbness in his legs and feet faded into pins and needles.
“There you go, keep breathing,” Chris continued softly. “See, everything’s okay. We’re at Bobby’s house, and Buck is in the living room, and I’m right here with you.”
“Sorry,” Eddie forced out through an exhale.
“Don’t,” said Chris firmly. “It’s not your fault.”
Eddie sucked in a deep breath. When did his baby boy become so grown up?
“I’m gonna get you some water.”
Christopher’s hands slipped out of Eddie’s as he grabbed for the doorhandle, leaving his crutches behind as he exited the bathroom. Eddie listened to the familiar sound of his son’s irregular gait as he walked down the hall to the main living area.
I was wondering… if maybe you’d wanna come with me?
Eddie’s head was swirling with flashes of distant memories – like his brain was trying to fish them out of a whirlpool. He leaned forward, resting his throbbing head in his hands, trying to suppress the pain. He took measured breaths, in and out, to maintain a false semblance of stability.
I needed you to have my back.
You can have my back any day.
Go to Hell, Bobby.
“Eddie.”
His eyes flew open to find Buck crouched in front of him, piercing blue eyes filled with worry.
Buck lifted a glass to Eddie’s mouth, and he took a few slow sips of cold water. When Buck moved the glass to the floor, Eddie scooted forward on the toilet seat until he could comfortably rest his forehead on Buck’s shoulder.
“What happened?” asked Buck softly. One of his hands migrated to caress Eddie’s hair, gently scratching his scalp.
Eddie exhaled through his nose. “My head hurts.”
“O–Okay. I–Is that why you—“
“—panicked?” Eddie interjected, pulling his head back to see the crease of Buck’s eyebrow. “No, that’s not why.” He dropped his head again. “It’s just been a lot. ‘S overwhelming.”
“O–Oh. Should we go home?” Buck worried.
Eddie shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Buck’s firm hand on the back of his neck guided Eddie’s head back so they were face-to-face again. The eye contact was intense, as though Buck was trying to look directly into Eddie’s soul.
Eddie lurched forward to place a quick kiss on Buck’s soft lips to kill the tension. It worked. The crease in Buck’s forehead melted away, eyebrows raising slightly with surprise, hope, love, and Eddie just wanted to fall into his arms and stay there for the rest of the night.
Instead, he leaned back and clenched his jaw. “Let’s do this.”
The rest of their visit went smoothly – if you ignore the pit in Eddie’s stomach and the effort he was putting into seeming normal. He didn’t talk much, but he tried to follow the steady conversation and pay attention to the casual stories Bobby and Athena told. It was exhausting.
He was beyond ready to go home by the time Buck announced it was time to leave. He let Buck and Chris guide him to the truck, and he all-but flopped into the passenger seat.
The car ride home was blessedly peaceful; they listened to gentle songs Eddie couldn’t remember by an artist he’d never heard of. As they rounded the corner onto South Bedford Street, Eddie apologised again to Chris for what he witnessed, only to be brushed off again by his son.
Even that was too much. Where did his son get his emotional intelligence from?
Eddie felt like he was drowning. Everything was new. He just wanted something familiar, something safe. He’d never felt quite so unmoored before. He almost wanted to go back to El Paso, to his family, but he knew that would be worse. If his relationship with his parents was strained 12 years ago—when he was a straight, married, religious man—then he couldn’t imagine what it looked like now, if it still existed even.
“I’m going to go lie down,” Eddie mumbled feebly as they passed the threshold to his house.
Chris stopped him, falling against him in a tight hug, crutches clattering to the ground. “I’m really proud of you, Dad,” he murmured into Eddie’s chest.
Eddie’s eyes began to sting. He kissed the crown of Christopher’s head, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, mijo.”
He then staggered to his bedroom, legs moving as though he was walking through quicksand instead of just across laminated flooring. He crawled onto his bed, not bothering to peel open the covers before collapsing into a comfortable position.
A few moments later, there was a telltale creak by the door and Eddie’s eyes opened to the sight of Buck. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a brown t-shirt that was about one or two sizes too small for his build. Still, he looked cosy. It was almost paradoxical the way a man as big and strong as Buck could look so gentle and soft.
He took three big steps towards the bed and sank down on the end of the bed.
“How are you doing?” he asked quietly.
“Exhausted,” Eddie answered.
Buck shifted, crawling up the bed to lay parallel to Eddie. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t. It’s not because of you. It’s just a thing that happens now. My brain uses up way too much energy processing things,” Eddie complained, closing his eyes, relaxing into the pillow.
“I’m still sorry,” Buck said. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah—Why would I want you to go through this? I should’ve…”
“What, caught the building that fell on top of me?”
Buck chuckled lightly. “Yeah!”
“It’s part of the job, isn’t it? I mean, you were in a fire truck that exploded, weren’t you? And Chim was impaled through the skull!”
“He wasn’t on the job when that happened,” Buck corrected him, amused.
“Still. Do you believe everything happens for a reason?”
Buck’s eyebrows creased and he turned his body more into Eddie. “Yeah. That’s–That’s actually something we’ve argued about before.”
“I never bought into all that. As a kid, my mom always said ‘God has a plan for everyone’ whenever something bad happened. She used to use that phrase to explain away natural disasters, car crashes, childhood illnesses. Mind you, this is the same woman who used to take me to protest outside abortion clinics as a kid because my ‘cute face’ would ‘deter’ people seeking abortions.”
Buck snorted. “You never told me that.”
“Well… I’m ashamed. I don’t know who’s more ashamed of the other – me or her.”
The crinkles around Buck’s eyes disappeared, giving way to a crease on his forehead. “Why would she be ashamed of you?”
“Well she’s homophobic, Buck,” Eddie declared, bluntly. He thought Buck would’ve already known that. Maybe he cut his parents off before he got with Buck?
“Yeah, which is why you are right to be ashamed of her,” Buck agreed.
“Yes but she doesn’t like gay people, Evan. That’s probably why I got treated differently to my sisters, she probably knew before I did.”
Buck sat up abruptly, confusion occupying all of his features. “She… probably knew that you would be an ally?”
It was Eddie’s turn to sit up, confused. “That I’m…” The word gay caught in his throat. “…queer.”
All of a sudden, Buck flinched so violently near the edge of the bed, nearly falling off completely. Even consumed with fatigue, Eddie’s instincts won’t let Buck fall. He lurched forward, fingers wrapping around Buck’s biceps, pulling him swiftly back onto the bed.
Even when Buck was stable, Eddie didn’t let go. Couldn’t. Buck’s large, soft biceps were like the strongest magnets in the world and Eddie’s fingers had no fight left in them. He shifted forward, closer into Buck’s space.
“You okay?” he worried.
“No, I think I’m—I thought you said you’re queer, then. Caught me off guard. What did you actually say?”
Eddie frowned. “Buck—I can’t remember the exact label.”
“Label of what?”
“Er, my sexuality…?”
“Your… Eddie, what?”
Now, Eddie’s fingers let him release Buck. “Okay, can we be serious?” he requested, cheeks flaming. “Don’t make fun of me, I have amnesia.”
“Eddie,” Buck said solemnly. He closed the gap between them, fingers circling Eddie’s wrists. “I’m not making fun of you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did I not use a label, then?”
“Eddie, please. A label for what?”
“Buck—“ Eddie exhaled, stomach in knots. This was the most infuriating conversation of his life. “Am I fully gay? Bisexual? I—I don’t know all the available options here.”
Buck took a deep breath in through his nose, nostrils flaring in a way that should not be attractive, but was. He looked like he had just eaten a hot chili pepper.
“Are you asking me if you’re gay?”
“Well—Yes—!” Eddie exclaimed frustratedly.
Buck’s thumb moved over to the thin skin on Eddie’s wrist, where his pulse was prominent.
“Eddie, you’re straight.”
Eddie’s arms slipped from Buck’s grasp. “What? How—?”
“Er… I don’t know how you want me to answer that,” Buck stated slowly.
“Buck, how can you be my partner if I’m straight? I don’t think straight men kiss their male partners. Unless that’s something new from the last 12 years.”
Buck gasped, choking on spit on the intake. He coughed.
“That’s not—We’re not that kind of partners—!” he insisted frantically, scrambling off the bed like it had caught fire. “Work partners!”
Eddie’s heart plummeted through his body, burning through the rest of his organs on the way to his feet. “What—?!”
Buck was halfway to the door.
“No. Wait—“ Eddie pleaded desperately. He couldn’t be left alone with this bombshell. “Don’t leave.” He didn’t realise there were tears streaming down his cheeks until he tasted salt. “Please–Don’t—“
“Eddie–I just–I can’t—”
“Please,” Eddie begged, moving onto his knees, legs tangled up in the comforter. He swallowed thickly, acid in his throat. “I need you—to stay.”
“I can’t,” Buck choked out. He turned around to look at Eddie, slowly as though it was causing him physical pain. There were tears wetting his lashes. His cheeks were pink. “I need air.”
“There’s air right here, Evan, please don’t go. I—I—I’m sorry I got it so wrong. I didn’t know, okay? I just thought—This—You were the only thing that has felt right since the accident. Everything else has been too much – too different. Chris is so grown up, and Shannon is gone, and I’ve never even been to California before. Please, just–just stay and we can work this out.”
Buck’s shoulders sank, tension disappearing. “Eddie.” He sounded wrecked.
“Stay,” Eddie exhaled. The anxiety-driven adrenaline seeped out of him like blood. He didn’t know what he’d do if Buck walked away, didn’t know how to be alone in this newfound grief.
Buck didn’t love him. They weren’t partners. They were friends, nothing more. And right now, even that was uncertain.
A moment passed in which Eddie felt like he might die. Then, Buck crossed the room tentatively, like he was walking on unstable ground, before sinking back into the mattress, plastering his body against Eddie’s.
Eddie shook against him as the two of them melted back into the bed.
“It’s okay,” Buck whispered into Eddie’s hair.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, pressing the softest of kisses to Eddie’s crown, arms wrapped securely around his head. “I’m staying.”
They stayed like that until Eddie’s body gave way to sleep, encased in Buck’s warmth. With the quiet puffs of Eddie’s breath against his neck, Buck dozed off soon after.
~*~*~
Eddie woke up alone in bed, tucked into the covers. Slowly, the memory of what happened with Buck came back to him, along with shame and embarrassment. How could he have had things so wrong?
He stayed bundled up in the covers for a while, trying his best to convince himself that the outcome of his misunderstanding was the best possible one. It meant he wasn’t in a relationship with a man, after all, so there was no longer the threat of a sexuality crisis looming over him, plaguing his every move. Except, the longer he stayed in bed, the more he came to understand the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach as disappointment.
He should’ve been elated to learn that he was not, in fact, in a romantic relationship with a person of the same gender, because Eddie was not—and had never been!—gay. He was married to a woman. A beautiful woman whom he loved deeply, who gave him the best thing that had ever happened to him. A beautiful woman whom he couldn’t love enough, whom he abandoned in favour of something as meaningless as war.
Eddie’s heart felt on the verge of combustion – on the verge of realisation.
The thing he had been feeling… The pit in his stomach, the hole in his heart… He never noticed it before, but it had been there the whole time. Why did he run away from Shannon? His love for her was as genuine as it comes, and yet it wasn’t enough. Because somewhere, buried deep inside him, underneath all of the pressure and shame instilled in his by his parents and their fucked-up ideal of religion and propriety, there was a truth so cataclysmic that he warped his entire reality to keep it covered – to pretend it never existed. He sculpted himself to fit his mother’s perfect mold but he couldn’t patch up the cracks as fast as they formed. He still permeated through like a poisonous gas. It’s what made him choose to go to war instead of facing his wife and son, what made him choose L.A. over the burdening weight of his parent’s support, what made him fumble every glorious woman he came into contact with.
And now, the cracks of fate joined together, causing the structure to crumble.
He wasn’t his mother’s perfect son – couldn’t be.
Eddie was gay.
That was the reason he couldn’t be the husband Shannon deserved. That was the reason he couldn’t make himself fit with Ana, or Marisol, or even Kim. He didn’t have it in him to fit with a woman. He was gay.
And—And waking up to Buck, when he didn’t remember anything, when he didn’t know anything – that was the reason he jumped so willingly into what he had thought was a queer relationship, because even after forgetting 12 long, crucial years of his life, he was still, underneath everything, gay.
Buck. He promised to stay.
Eddie kicked the duvet off his body urgently, practically sprinting across his bedroom, throwing the door open haphazardly. He rushed down the hallway to the kitchen, where Buck was pounding some sort of dough into the counter.
“Buck,” Eddie exhaled without meaning to. He was overcome with relief. For a moment there, he’d been petrified that Buck had left – waited for Eddie to fall asleep, peeled himself away, walked out without a second glance. Or maybe he’d fallen asleep too, opened his sleepy eyes this morning to Eddie’s koala hold, scrambled out of bed like the touch was poison. But no.
There he was, sweatpants, plain t-shirt, denim apron spattered with flour.
Buck whirled around, startled, with the dough in his hands.
“E–Eddie—!” he stuttered awkwardly. “I was just baking bread. I like to bake.”
“Yeah, I know,” Eddie replied softly, sagging against the doorframe now that the fear was gone. “Especially when you’re stressed about something. Sourdough, banana loaf, zucchini loaf, scones, muffins, pastries… The cinnamon rolls were my favourite, though.”
“C–Cinnamon rolls. You… You remember?” Buck asked hesitantly, thick fingers squeezing the dough anxiously.
“I do. I think I remember a lot.”
“O–Oh? So… Back to your regular schedule, I assume.” Buck turned back around, slamming the dough back onto the counter.
“Well,” Eddie started, taking a step into the kitchen, continuing until he was at Buck’s side, “you see – I’m gay.”
Buck’s next breath was audible, somewhere between a gasp and choking. His neck could’ve snapped with the speed at which his head turned to Eddie. “What?!”
“That’s probably why I thought I was gay when I woke up with amnesia… Because I was always gay.”
“But—But how—?” Buck stammered, confused.
Eddie smiled gently. Now that he remembered, he knew how Buck was likely struggling to process this information. He’d always been a little bit narrow in that way. Not narrow-minded, no, he just had a certain perspective on the world and any time he learned something that altered his perspective, it took a certain amount of rearranging truths inside his brain. It could take a minute.
“I guess my amnesia made me forget to suppress that part of myself,” Eddie considered, not entirely sure of it himself.
“But—But you thought you were 22. It’s not like you forgot who you were, you were just missing some things,” Buck pointed out, hands slipping away from the bread dough as his mind was too preoccupied trying to make sense of Eddie’s coming out.
“Yeah, well, obviously when I was 22, I didn’t think I was gay. Or—Or more likely, some part of me knew, even then, but I worked so hard on burying it that I forgot it existed. And then I woke up to you… And I was told that you’re my partner… And you brought me home, and you’re like a dad to my kid, and you’re so naturally loving… I added all of that information up in my head and came to the wrong conclusion,” Eddie explained, shrugging.
Waking up with all the memories he’d lost was literally like something slotted into place.
Remembering how he and Buck started, how Buck stepped into his life and turned it into something worth living instead of something he had to survive so that his kid could live well. It might have taken Eddie forgetting Buck to realise that he had always loved him, but remembering him made him realise something just as important — Buck loved him right back. Eddie couldn’t see it before because he didn’t know he loved Buck so he never thought to wonder whether Buck loved him, but it was so clear now.
The way Buck had integrated himself into Eddie and Christopher’s lives, he somehow became synonymous with home.
Eddie shifted, turning his body so that his lower back was leaning against the edge of the countertop, but his face was turned towards Buck, monitoring his face for nonverbal cues.
Buck was still digesting Eddie’s explanation. He was frowning. “And you just accepted it?” he asked.
“I assumed that somewhere in the time that I’d lost, I’d decided to own my sexuality,” Eddie said with another shrug. “It didn’t seem so crazy. I mean, it did. But not—Not with you. I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was gay, but I didn’t mind being with you. I wanted to.”
Buck’s entire body turned to face Eddie. “You wanted to?”
“Yeah. It felt like I woke up to a dream I never even allowed myself to envision. I thought I’d somehow woken up to the perfect life. This house, this city, the job, the family I’d somehow found. My beautiful, beautiful son, who is somehow so perfect despite having me for a father. And you. My ideal partner.”
“I’m your ideal partner?” Buck repeated in disbelief.
Eddie nodded.
“As in – I am your ideal partner?”
“Yes.”
“Present tense?”
“Buck.”
“Eddie. Present tense?”
Eddie rolled his eyes, twisting so his entire body was facing Buck, too. “Yes, Evan. Is it so crazy?”
Buck’s face was… a picture. A painting. The crease in his forehead, eyebrows slightly raised, wide eyes shimmering with tears. Hope.
“You want me?”
Eddie inched forward, slipping his arms around Buck’s waist. “I’ve always wanted you, Evan. The whole time. You made my life complete, I’ve never wanted to spend a single day without you in it. I’ve always wanted you. It was me – I didn’t want to be me. I’m sorry I let that control me for so long.”
Buck let out a beautiful, emotion-riddled laugh. “You don’t have to apologise for not being ready. We’re here now.”
Eddie’s vision became blurry with tears as he mirrored Buck’s laugh. “We’re here now,” he agreed, grinning uncontrollably. “I love you, Evan.”
He tilted forwards, just enough to capture Buck’s lips with his own. His hands swiftly made their way up to cup Buck’s face, thumbs smoothing across the stubble on his cheeks. Buck’s big hands gripped Eddie’s waist, deftly slipping under his t-shirt, fingers satisfyingly digging into his skin in a way that Eddie hoped left marks.
Their lips moved like gears, pushing and pulling, working in perfect tandem, as Buck and Eddie do in every other aspect of their lives.
“I love you, Eddie. Always.”