Work Text:
It’s only been a few weeks since the cast came off and Buck was beginning to learn how to walk again.
It was excruciating. Even just a few steps had him tired and exhausted.
He was irritable and tired all of the time, and despite having his own place, Bobby had insisted that he stay with him and Athena while he recovers and learns to walk again.
Unfortunately, that means he’s constantly around Bobby’s worrying.
At home, at PT, everywhere.
He’s not used to the constant caring and support. His parents used to care and yell at first, but not constantly as he recovered. They would treat him like it was his own fault after a while. Certainly, never had this level of support and he’s surprisingly irritated by it.
So, he tries to do things on his own.
Mainly, when Bobby isn’t home.
To prove to himself that he doesn’t need the hovering, that he can do everything on his own.
Only, somehow, his attempt to make dinner for the Grants and Bobby for when they get home had somehow landed him on his ass in the middle of the kitchen with a loud thump.
The worst part is that he knows it’s his fault for not leaning on the crutches because they were getting in the way, and he couldn’t easily cook with them.
He winces as he realizes that he’s not sure how he’s going to get up. There’s nowhere to grab and his leg is throbbing.
Fuck.
It’s good thing he can reach the burners and turn them off, so he doesn’t burn down their home.
Once that’s done, he looks around. Maybe if he could shuffle to a chair or something, he could make it look like he got the ingredients out but decided to wait for Bobby to cook like usual. Plus, the chair would be easier to get into.
At least, theoretically, right?
***
It takes way too long before he even gets to the closest chair. Though, it’s easy enough for him to move it out from the table. Once it’s in a position he could reasonably get into, he’s reminded that he can’t do this one-legged. He can barely bend his knee right now, and he can’t really lift himself on one leg.
Unfortunately, after three tries it becomes apparent that he can’t do this on his own.
He groans and pulls out his phone… he’s going to have to call Bobby for help.
***
Bobby should’ve known better than to let Buck stay alone, but now that he’s somewhat on his feet, he’s trying to be more independent, even if it hurts him and going beyond what he can easily manage.
He’s so busy trying to prove himself that he’s going to end up putting his recovery back.
“I knew better than to leave you alone,” Bobby huffs as he helps him to his feet and into the chair.
“I told you I was fine,” Buck grumbles.
“You’ve been on the floor for the better part of an hour because you were fine,” Bobby retorts as he moves to the island to begin cooking dinner.
“Just because I couldn’t get up doesn’t mean that I wasn’t fine,” Buck replies, petulantly. “And I wanted to cook you dinner.”
Bobby hums. “As much as I appreciate that, kid, it’s best you say off your feet, clearly.”
Buck huffs, crossing his arms and looking a little like a teenager that isn’t getting his way.
He lets the silence reign between them for a few minutes before he sighs as he begins to work on whatever stew that Buck had planned. Buck will come to realize that Bobby just cares and worries but mainly cares and learn to listen to him.
“I just – you don’t have to worry so much,” Buck offers after ten minutes of Bobby chopping. “I’m fine – a grown man.”
“That can’t walk because he went through a traumatic event that nearly cost him his leg,” Bobby counters. “You’re lucky to be alive, Buck. And I’d rather you take it easy and let me take care of you than come home to find you trying too hard and unable to get up.”
“I was perfectly fine on the floor,” Buck offers.
Bobby gives him an annoyed look. “What if there had been a fire?”
“Adrenalin,” Buck says, grinning smugly. The look Bobby gives him makes look away. “Or not.”
Bobby takes a deep breath, focusing on the meal he’s cooking. He knows (or suspects based on the fact that he hasn’t even heard from Buck’s parents and Bobby knows they’re alive) that his parents clearly don’t care about Buck. It’s possible that he’s just rebelling because he’s used to being on his own.
But Bobby does care. He cares a lot, and he doesn’t want this kid – his kid – to get hurt worse than he already is, especially not because he’s trying to prove himself. He’s already proved himself to Bobby. Bobby knows what he’s capable of, and he’s very proud of him.
He just… needs to take it easy.
“Alright, kid,” Bobby says, finally looking at him instead of the stew. “I know that you might not be used to someone caring about you and caring for you like this, but I do care. And I know that you’re very capable of taking care of yourself, but … wasn’t it you that said … maybe ask for help sometimes?”
Buck looks away. “That was for your addiction issues. This is different.”
“It’s another struggle, kid,” Bobby offers. “Yours is just physical instead of mental.”
“I guess that’s true,” Buck concedes. “I just – I wanna get out of your hair. I feel bad, you and Athena just got married and –”
“And we both want you here,” Bobby interrupts. “You’re my kid, maybe not in blood, but didn’t you used to call me Pops? Maybe you took to heart what I said about us not being a family, but let’s be real here, you managed to worm your way into my heart, and we are a family and family takes care of each other.”
There’s a soft look in Buck’s eyes, and it’s clear that despite feeling that way about Bobby (he’s sure), he never expected that Bobby felt the same way.
“You know that you’re important to me, right, Buck?” he asks, softly.
“I guess I do, now,” Buck says, looking away. “I just – it’s hard, you know?”
Bobby comes over to him and gives him a hug, which is awkward with Buck in the chair. “I know it’s hard to let people take care of you, but I want to take care of you and help you get better. Will you let me help you?”
“Only if you promise me that someday you’ll let me take of you,” Buck retorts.
Bobby smiles. “I’ll let you cook for me for a month after you’re all clear from the doctors and won’t fall over in the middle of my kitchen.”
Buck laughs. “Deal.”
“Deal.”