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It’s not the first time Chris has seen Buck injured, so it shouldn't really bug him. He looks at the pink marks that spread over Buck's chest, and something inside him feels sick. He hates them. Dad says the marks are fading, that they look more like some of the stretch marks Chris has on his own legs from his surgeries but he doesn't think that's true. The marks are jagged, long, like someone took the shape of the bolt of lightning and made sure Chris had to stare at them the entire time. It's not Buck's fault, he knows that, he told dad that but his eyes just keep finding them. Buck rushes past him, pulling on a shirt.
"You almost ready kiddo? We need to leave soon if you want breakfast."
"Yeah, I'm good. Hey, Buck?”
“What's up?”
“Do they hurt?”
Buck looks at him confused before Chris points to his own chest.
“I mean when I first got them kind of? But once you start to get more, they don’t hurt as much?”
“What do you mean more? I thought you were just hit once?”
Buck looks at him.
“Chris, bud, what are you asking about?”
“The liten… lishetun —”
“My Lichtenberg figure? The lightning scar?”
“Yeah, what did you think I was talking about?”
He watches as Buck pulls on a LAFD hoodie and laughs a bit.
“Honestly? My tattoos. I know you’ve seen most of them, especially the silly ones.”
“Well yeah. Who gets use me for shade tattooed on them?”
“You dad found it funny.”
He laughs.
“That doesn’t count! Dad finds everything you do adorable.”
His dad walks out of the bathroom just then. His hair sticking up but completely dressed.
“What did I do?”
Buck smiles and walks up to give his dad a kiss. Chris makes a show of fake gagging.
“Nothing baby, Chris just thinks I’m not funny.” Buck smiles and goes to poke at Chris sides. “He says you just find me adorable and that’s why you laugh.”
His dad looks at him and winks.
“Well...” he drags on. Chris rolls his eyes as he watches his dad wrap his arms around Buck and promises he can be funny, sometimes.
“I was asking him about his marks.” Chris starts, he sees his dad tense slightly, his arms tightening around Buck.
“Oh?”
Buck smiles at them.
“He was curious and I thought it was about my tattoos.”
“You do have quite a few.”
“I used to have a wave on my chest,” Buck taps over his heart, his fingertips touching the LAFD logo on his sweater, “I covered it up after I realized how much the tsunami affected all of us.”
Chris eyes widen at that, he knows they couldn’t really talk back then but a lot of the time between the tsunami and Buck coming back home is fuzzy. His dad hums.
“I like the flowers. I’m starting to like this one too.” His dad traces around Buck’s shoulder.
“Dad tried to convince me that we match.”
“What?” Buck looks between them.
“Your marks and his surgery scars, cariño. I told him they show how his body keeps fighting to let him do what he wants to do. And yours are a reminder of how much you fought to come back to us.”
"You agree with him?"
Chris can't find it in him to tell him no.
“Do they hurt?”
Buck takes a deep breath.
“Yes and no? I feels kind like stretching a sore muscle. My doctor said it should get better with time.”
Chris pauses. He knows it’s going to take a while to recover. They’ve been through recovery before, but this is different. It feels different. Buck didn’t just get hurt. He died. He heard dad crying when he got home that night, whispering prayers in Spanish that he swore both of them forgot about.
“It’s not the same.” His voice breaks slightly.
His dad sits at the edge of the couch and leans towards him.
“Chris?”
He can feel his vision blurring.
“You died, Buck.”
Buck moves quickly, kneeling down in front of him, a soft crackle as his knees come down that makes him smile despite the weird feeling in his throat.
“I know. I know, bud, but I’m here okay? I came back.”
Chris nods frantically and leans forward into Buck’s chest, he turns his head so his ear is pressed up against him and he hears Buck’s heartbeat. He sighs and pulls at Buck’s sweater, feeling arms coming around to hug him.
“Did you hear me? When I snuck into the room, did you hear my voice?.”
He thinks back to Buck’s hands lying still on the hospital bed, a tube in his mouth and his dad and Aunt Hen trying to explain what all the machines did. Chris feels Buck move him in his arms so that he could look at him. Buck’s hands don’t feel cold anymore when they find his face and wipe at his eyes.
“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember a lot, just that I was having a really strange dream. But your words? I think some part of me felt them. I was fighting so hard to get back to you and dad, to everyone and I didn’t know why. If you’re telling me that you were there, reminding me to come home? There’s no way I didn’t hear you.”
Chris lets his head fall into Buck’s chest again, trying to focus on his heart beat. Soft reminders that he’s okay, that Buck’s not leaving.
“You can’t die again.”
He feels Buck tense under him.
“Chris —” He can hear the worry in Buck’s voice, that’s not what he wanted.
“I know you can’t promise that. I know. Just please, don’t be stupid? I don’t need you to quit because I’m scared.” Chris hears a small snicker from both of them.
“You know it’s okay that you’re scared right?” His dad’s voice is gentle. “Aunt Maddie gets scared anytime he needs to go to the doctor. Bobby? He’s our captain sure, but he’s also like Buck’s dad. He was really scared too. And you already know that I was scared. You held my hand, you prayed with me even though we couldn’t remember if the words were right."
Chris sniffles, pushing himself off of Buck as much as he can.
“We don’t have to go today, if you don’t want to.” Buck tells him as he uses the hoodie’s sleeve to pat the tears off his cheeks. Chris shakes his head.
“It’s okay. I want to.”
“Okay. You need a minute?”
“I thought I was fine.”
Buck moves, standing them up slowly.
“Was it us talking about them, or seeing them?"
“I don’t know. I just…I hate them. They cover all of you and my head started reminding me how much you guys have gotten hurt. And I couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. Chris, you’re allowed to feel that way. It’s not easy being in a first responder family, and you’ve seen so much already. But these?” Buck points to his chest. “They’ll be gone in a few days. They aren’t forever, I promise.”
“They’re going to fade.” Chris muses. Buck only nods at him, then he’s taking off his hoodie, ungracefully. Chris laughs when he struggles to pull it off on of his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you the tattoo dad likes.” Buck turns exposing part of his shoulder to Chris.
“This one I got a few years ago, right after… right after your dad was shot.”
Chris looks at how the two figures are reaching out for each other. He sees his dad’s hand slowly trace over the tattoo.
“I know it’s probably not healthy.”
“It’s not.” His dad interrupts, still lightly touching the tattoo.
Buck rolls his eyes.
“Anyway, we all have things we do to cope right? Some people need to talk about it, some write about it, some might just need a minute to understand what happened. I used to get tattoos. I don’t think I’ll get something this time around. My skin is really sensitive and I’m pretty sure none of us really want to have a reminder of it. But if you want to help me design something, maybe that can be my next one?”
Before Chris can say anything, one of their alarms go off. Buck stands and pulls his arms back into the sweater.
“Okay, shoes. Where are shoes?”
Buck walks towards his dad’s room.
Chris takes a few deep breaths as his dad hands him his crutches.
“You really okay? We can call to postpone your session.”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s staying right?”
“For your appointment?”
Chris only shakes his head.
“Dad.”
“I told him I want him here. But we’re also taking this slow, if he wants to go back to the loft…”
Chris huffs.
“He won’t. Not if you keep reminding him he belongs here.”
His dad smiles at him, grabbing the truck keys from the bowl beside the door. His dad opens the door and turns back to see Buck pulling on one of his boots.
“Cariño?”
Buck looks up and lets his foot drop, almost losing his balance.
“Yeah?”
Chris looks at his dad, a soft smile on his face.
“How much longer is the lease on your loft?”