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Theo looks tired when Buck picks him up from daycare on Monday. Nothing too alarming, just a big day after a big weekend out with Christopher and Eddie at the zoo.
Normally Theo runs at him the second Buck appears in the doorway, yelling his name loud enough to wake the dead. Today he just lifts his arms sleepily from where he’s sitting on the mat.
Buck feels the difference immediately when he picks Theo up in his arms. He’s warm. A little too warm.
“Oh, buddy.” Buck presses his lips against Theo’s forehead automatically. “You feeling okay?”
Theo shrugs against his shoulder, nuzzling into Buck’s neck. “My head hurts.”
One of the daycare teachers, Tiana, gives Buck an apologetic look. “He had a good morning, but after quiet time this afternoon, he got a bit clingy and wasn’t overly interested in the activities.”
Clingy. Buck almost laughs. Theo is always clingy. The aftermath of Theo coming back to him. But this was different. Heavy-limbed and glassy-eyes, overall miserable in a way that makes Buck’s chest tighten.
“It’s okay,” Buck promises, rubbing Theo’s back lightly. “Let’s get you home.”
Theo nods weakly, and curls further into him. And Buck. Buck would carry him forever if Theo asked.
-
The fever hits hard by dinner. Theo barely touches his mac and cheese before pushing the bowl away and climbing to sit in Buck’s lap.
“I don’t feel good.” he whispers miserably.
“I know, baby.”
Buck hates how quickly panic rises in him whenever Theo gets hurt or sick. Rationally he knows kids get fevers. Daycare kids especially that are there full-time. It’s normal. It’s to be expected.
Buck had spent too long in his own childhood only being cared for when he was injured or sick. Every time Theo looks at him with watery eyes and reaches for comfort, Buck gives it instantly. Every single time. Something sharp always twists inside him too. A distant reminder. A whisper in his head. Love me anyway.
-
Monday night is bad. Tuesday is worse. Theo wakes up crying every few hours with coughing fits that wrack through his tiny body. Buck barely sleeps. Every time Theo makes a noise, he’s there. Cool clothes. Medicine. Water. Holding him and rubbing his back until he settles again.
Buck had messaged Chim, saying he needed to take the week off urgently as Theo was sick. It was the first time Theo had been sick in the months of being placed with him. And he couldn’t be apart from him for a single second.
Chimney let him know to take the time he needs, and to reach out if he needs anything. Not just his captain speaking, but his brother-in-law.
By Wednesday, Buck’s entire house smells like vapor rub and soup. The couch has become their command center. Blankets everywhere. Half-empty juice boxes on the coffee table. Disney movies looping endlessly in the background.
Theo hasn’t let Buck out of arm’s reach in almost three days. Even now, he’s curled bonelessly against Buck’s chest while Buck attempts to answer work-related emails one-handed.
“Buck?” Theo rasps sleepily, his little voice croaky from all the coughing.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“You stay with me?”
Buck looks down immediately. Theo’s fever-flushed cheeks. Damp curls. Fingers gripping onto Buck even though he hasn’t moved an inch. Something painful caves inside Buck’s chest.
“Always.”
-
Thursday rolls around, and Buck looks almost as exhausted as Theo does.
“You look like hell,” Eddie says as Buck opens the door.
Buck huffs tiredly, stepping aside so Eddie can come in. “Good to see you too.”
Eddie’s expression softens when he spots Theo asleep on the couch. Tiny body bundled in blankets. Spiderman tucked under one arm.
“He still sick?” Eddie asks quietly.
Buck nods, “Doctor says it’s viral. Just has to run its course.”
“But?” Eddie knows him too well.
Buck looks away. “He cries if I leave the room.”
The confession comes out rougher than Buck means it to. Because that’s the part tearing him apart. Theo wakes up panicked every single time Buck disappears. Bathroom. Kitchen. Shower. Doesn’t matter. And Buck understands it in a way that makes him feel hollow.
Theo already learned people leave. Even if they don’t mean to.
“Buck..”
“I know he’s sick,” Buck says quickly. “I know kids get clingy when they don’t feel good, I remember all the times with Chris, but-” his voice cracks. “He keeps checking if I’m still here.”
Eddie steps closer to him carefully. “And every time he checks, you are.”
Buck blinks at him. Swallowing hard. Because he is. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.
-
That night was the worst of it. Eddie had offered to stay the night to keep Buck company so they could take it in shifts.
Theo spikes another fever and wakes up disoriented and crying sometime after midnight. Buck gathers him up instantly, heart pounding in his ears which Theo clings desperately to him.
“Buck,” Theo sobs into Buck. “Dad, don’t go.”
Buck freezes. Dad. Theo’s called him Buck since the day he moved in. Always Buck. Mr Poop when he’s being silly. Never…that. Buck didn’t want Theo to call him anything but Buck. Donor. Not dad.
Theo doesn’t realise he said it. He’s too upset. Too feverish. But Buck’s entire world stops. Because it’s not the word that breaks him, it’s the fear underneath it.
Don’t go.
They settle on the bathroom floor, the cool tiles pressed against Buck’s back. Theo is still sobbing in his arms.
Eddie lightly knocks on the door. Concern written across his face, softening into something deeper. Something achingly tender.
“He okay?” Eddie asks softly, crouching beside them.
Buck nods shakily. “Yeah. Fever spiked again.”
Theo whimpers and presses his face harder into Buck’s neck. “Dad.”
Eddie goes very still. Buck’s eyes shut briefly like the word physically hurts. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” he whispers quickly.
Eddie looks between them carefully. Theo curled against Buck’s chest. Buck holding him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Maybe he does know, Eddie almost says.
Instead, Eddie reaches over to brush Theo’s damp curls back from his forehead. “Hey, mijo.”
Theo peeks up, eyes red-rimmed and sore. “Eddie?”
“There’s my little man.” Eddie smiles softly.
Theo smiles weakly before immediately curling back into Buck again. Buck’s arms tighten instinctively around him. Protecting the small boy. And Eddie sees it with painful clarity. Not just love. Parenthood.
Real and irreversible and woven so deeply into Buck there’s no separating them anymore. Buck looks wrecked by it. Terrified too.
“I don’t know why that hit me so hard,” Buck admits quietly once Theo settles again. His fingers slowly run up and down Theo’s back. Except he does. All he wanted as a child was for someone to hold him like this. Be there. Unwavering. Always a sure presence.
“I just-” Buck’s voice breaks. “He sounded scared.”
Eddie sits down in the doorway beside them. “Of losing you?”
“Yeah.”
Buck remembers being seven years old with the flu, similar to Theo now and he loved it. Not because he liked being sick. But it was the only time his mother paid attention to him. The only time his dad asked if he needed anything.
Looking down at Theo, Buck couldn’t imagine only caring when he was sick. This usually healthy, loud, emotional little boy reminds him painfully of himself. That version of him felt like too much. Taking up too much space in a house already haunted by grief.
Theo shifts slightly in Buck’s arms, eyes fluttering half open again. “Stay?” he whispers.
Buck presses a kiss into his curls without hesitation, Eddie’s hand taking over rubbing his back. “Always.”
Theo relaxes instantly. Eddie has to look away for a second. Eddie is watching Buck hold Theo like it’s instinctive. Like loving him is as natural as breathing. And maybe that’s what hurts Buck so much, realising how easy it should have been.
Because Theo is everything Buck was as a child.
Soft-hearted. Kind. A little loud. Wanting to be loved.
And Buck loves him without hesitation anyway.
-
It takes another hour before Theo finally falls into a deep enough sleep. Buck and Eddie manage to get some more medicine into him, along with half a popsicle and a few reluctant sips of water. Theo cries when Buck tries to leave the room afterward, so Buck gives up on the idea entirely.
Now Theo is asleep in his bed, finally breathing evenly for the first time all night. And Buck and Eddie are stretched out on a pile of blankets and cushions on the floor beside him.
A makeshift sleepover.
The room is dim, except for the starry nightlight glowing softly across the walls. Theo’s humidifier hums quietly in the corner.
Buck stares up at the ceiling, exhaustion sitting heavy in his bones. Beside him, Eddie shifts slightly, arms brushing against his as he turns to face Buck.
“You know,” Eddie says quietly. “Chris once threw up directly into my mouth.”
Buck turns his head slowly, pulling a face. “Absolutely not.”
Eddie snorts softly, trying to cover it up. “Food poisoning, he was six.”
“That is horrifying.”
“It was.” Eddie grins tiredly. “You’re doing way better than I did.”
Buck hufss out a laugh before the silence settles again. Theo coughs lightly in his sleep. Both Buck and Eddie glance toward the bed immediately. Buck catches the way Eddie smiles at that.
“What?” Buck whispers.
“Nothing,” Eddie says, still looking at Theo. “Just, you two remind me of Chris and me.”
Buck’s chest warms quietly. Theo shifts again, one hand hanging over the side of the bed searching blindly. Buck reaches up, letting Theo’s tiny fingers curl around two of his.
Eddie watches the whole thing happen. A soft expression flickering across his face.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever trusted me this much before,” Buck whispers softly.
“Buck.”
“It’s kinda terrifying,” Buck laughs under his breath. “One tiny human and suddenly I’m afraid of crossing the street wrong.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says knowingly. “That part never really goes away.”
Buck turns his head slightly toward him. “You still get scared with Chris?”
“All the time,” Eddie answers honestly. “You just learn that fear means there’s someone worth being scared for.”
Buck goes quiet after that. The room feels warm and safe. Theo is sleeping above them. Eddie beside him.
For the first time all week, Buck feels like he can breathe properly again.
Then Eddie nudges him lightly. “You should try sleeping.”
Buck smiles tiredly. “You staying?”
Eddie almost looks offended. “Buck, I’m already on the floor.”
Buck looks over one more time before closing his eyes. Theo is holding on to him even in sleep. Like somewhere deep down he just knows Buck will still be there when morning comes.
And Buck will. Always