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There was an elephant in the room in Eddie's regular therapy sessions with Frank. It was rather a large elephant with long tusks that jutted out, narrowly avoiding spearing through Eddie's chest and leaving him to bleed out, which he would have done quite happily if only to avoid talking about the aforementioned elephant.
Eddie had been seeing Frank for comfortably over a year now, having started when Chris first left for Texas. He liked Frank. The man was honest and calculated in the way he said things and he was, well, frank. He was a frank Frank.
The only thing Frank wasn't frank about because Eddie had always dodged the subject was Buck.
It wasn't exactly typical for Eddie not to talk about Buck to someone. He liked talking about Buck. Buck was great! He'd waffle on to someone in the grocery store line for ages about Buck, about how great his best friend was and how Buck was an excellent father to Theo and how he was basically a father to Chris (not that Eddie and Buck had ever talked about that). In fact, Eddie had made quite a few people think he was a bit obsessed with Buck over the years, which he wasn't. He was a normal level of obsessed with Evan Buckley.
After all, wasn't everybody a little obsessed with the guy? He was Buck — the same Buck who made strangers want to give him their first-born child just by walking past in the street with that dazzling grin. Plus, it didn't hurt that Buck was amazing with kids, charming and altogether a bit like a puppy in the sweetest way possible.
Where was Eddie?
Ah, yes, the elephant in the room, because, on top of being the best friend anyone could ever wish for, Buck was off the table to discuss in therapy.
Sure, Eddie talked about him a lot. He mentioned that Buck helped out with Chris's science fair and that he made a Victoria Sponge cake this week and that he had bought a hoard of parenting books for himself to read up on when he started fostering Theo, but that was Eddie talking to Frank about Buck. There was no Frank talking about Buck to Eddie.
That would be absurd and the quickest way to make Eddie deflect and jump onto the topic of something far more pressing like his relationship with Chris or his childhood. Quite why Eddie was more willing to talk about those things — and he was not very willing to talk about those things — than he was to talk about Buck was also part of the elephant in the room.
Every time, Frank would let out a little sigh and let Eddie change the subject.
At least, that's what had been happening.
That's what Eddie had assumed would keep happening, ideally for the rest of time.
Eddie's appointments with Frank were on Mondays. Every second Monday at two o'clock in the afternoon, Eddie would have his bi-weekly appointment. (In this case, bi-weekly meant once every two weeks, although the definition of bi-weekly had been up for serious debate in the 118 on one memorable yet dull shift where Buck had claimed that he had the ultimate definition power as the only bi person there, to which Hen had pointed out that he was a bisexual and not a withstanding appointment.)
It was nice to have something regular to think about. Eddie wouldn't go as far to say as he enjoyed his sessions with Frank as it was therapy after all but he found them useful and that was the point, wasn't it?
This particular Monday, their appointment had been moved to three o'clock, which had already thrown Eddie off kilter. It was moved because of Frank having a health check up but Eddie's brain didn't take that into account when he kept staring at the clock in his house thinking he was late when in fact he had another half an hour to wait before he needed to set off.
This was relevant in no way except that it made Eddie feel like he was starting off on the wrong foot before he'd even made it in through the door.
When he did make it to Frank's therapy building, Frank was running late by five minutes so Eddie had to wait in the waiting room with the other patients who were attending appointments in the same building.
Eddie knew on an intellectual level that there was no shame in needing therapy. Still, as he surveyed his cohorts (a couple in their late twenties, a teenager with his mother and a pre-pubescent kid who was there to see a child specialist who occasionally operated in the building), he couldn't help but feel that he was not only the oldest in the room but the weakest. After all, he was in his thirties and he still needed regular therapy. Logically, he knew there was no age cap but everyone else seemed to have figured their shit out young and yet here he still was seeing a mental health professional to stop himself repeatedly ruining his life at the grand old age of thirty four. It just felt like he was a little behind.
He knew what Buck would say to that. He'd say that thirty four was not old and that there was no time frame on any of this. Then again, Buck had to say that as Eddie's best friend and Buck absolutely would lie to Eddie to try and preserve the scraps of his dignity.
Maybe Eddie was too old.
He was interrupted from his train of thought by Frank coming into the room.
"Are you ready to go?" Frank asked.
"Yeah," Eddie said, which was a complete lie but he thought it sounded believable. He got up, ignoring everyone looking at him as he stood, and followed Frank through to their usual room.
Eddie took his seat, which wasn't a couch despite what all the movies depicted, and Frank took the one opposite him, picking up his notepad and scribbling down the day's date, Eddie's name and the time.
To begin with, Eddie had been averse to having anything written about himself. Nowadays, he filtered it out, even if it became hard to ignore when Frank began writing exceedingly quickly whenever Eddie talked about his mother.
"How's your week been?" Frank asked with his pen poised at the ready.
"Good," Eddie said, which wasn't a lie. "The shifts at the 118 were mostly quiet. We had a couple of gory calls but no casualties. Chris had his therapy appointment yesterday as usual. I was working with the B-shift so Tia Pepa took him. I'd usually ask Buck but Theo had a dentist appointment at around the same time. Tia didn't mind though. She loves spending time with Chris."
"It's good that you were able to ask for help," Frank said.
Eddie shrugged. "It was just an appointment."
Frank raised an eyebrow and Eddie waved a hand.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said. "Small steps and all that. Are you proud of me?"
Eddie meant it in a joking manner but Frank looked deadly serious as he said, "Yes, Eddie. I'm proud of you."
If he'd had a rougher week, Eddie would probably have started crying. Having had a relatively good one, he just blinked a couple of times to get rid of the dampness in his eyes and cleared his throat. "Thanks."
"How did Theo's dental appointment go?" Frank asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"He's all healthy," Eddie said with pride. "He's getting really good at remembering to brush his teeth. He barely needs reminding anymore. It's all down to Buck. He's been working so hard on Theo with it."
Here was where Frank would usually ask a question about Chris or about how Eddie had felt over the week. Eddie waited for it patiently.
"We should probably talk about Buck," Frank said.
Eddie's stomach dropped and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "We talk about him all the time."
"You talk about him all the time." Frank hummed. "We don't talk about him."
Eddie had been hoping Frank wouldn't notice that. "You know, that's what it's like talking to my mom. She just talks at me all the time, never with me."
"Eddie," Frank said, a slight crease on his forehead, "you're deflecting."
Eddie scowled. "I thought we talked about whatever I wanted to talk about."
Frank inclined his head to the side. "We do. However, I think you're ready to talk about what you need to talk about too."
Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "We don't need to talk about Buck."
"He's your best friend," Frank said. "He's a large part of your life. I'd feel irresponsible if we didn't talk about him at some point."
"So feel irresponsible," Eddie said, probably pushing his luck if the look in Frank's eyes was anything to go by. He sighed. "Sorry. I just don't understand why we have to talk about him. He's great. We're great."
"And what does 'great' look like for you and Buck?" Frank asked, perfectly innocent in a way that made Eddie want to get up and leave.
"I don't know," Eddie said. "I guess it looks like Buck being happy and the kids being happy."
"And you?"
Eddie instinctively frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Frank set his pen down briefly. "Does you and Buck's version of 'great' involve you being happy?"
Eddie rubbed a hand over his jaw. "I guess. His version does."
Frank hummed. "Is it important to Buck that you're happy?"
"Yeah," Eddie said, not finding that a hard question at all. "Of course it is. He's my best friend."
"It's good," Frank noted, "that Buck values your happiness. It's good to have a person in your life like that, someone to share your struggles with and find your joy with. It sounds like the both of you having shared happiness with each other and with Christopher and Theo is something very cherished in your life and in Buck's."
Eddie wasn't quite sure where Frank was going with this and that set him on edge. "Yeah, I guess we have the same priorities."
"You're like a team."
"Yeah."
"Maybe even like partners?"
Eddie squinted at Frank. "Well, we used to be. We don't work together as partners anymore."
Frank nodded. "I know. I meant like life partners."
Eddie's brain scratched like a record and came to a warbling stop.
Life partners?
His first thought was that the term sounded dangerous, as though it was something far too lasting and strong to be promised. It was almost threatening the way the words exuded severity. Life partners: to be chained together for the rest of time willingly. The very idea was asinine. No one was promised eternity.
His second thought was that it wouldn't be eternity really unless their was an afterlife, which, in turn, made him think of God. It made Eddie think of marriage and his own marriage, which had been a rushed thing in a city hall with a kiss and a promise and a clump of cells growing day by day into something wonderful. Shannon was supposed to be his life partner, at least originally. Then at some point she decided she didn't want that, and then she was killed before she had the chance to really decide what she did want.
Eddie supposed he should be angry with God about that, and he was, a little. Mostly he was angry with himself.
So, when he heard 'life partners', he didn't think of Buck. He thought of eternity, broken vows, God and Shannon's death. He thought of punishment.
"I'm not…" Eddie searched for the right words. "It's not like that."
"Okay," Frank said.
Eddie felt something bubbling inside him. "'Okay'? You know, you can't make these massive assumptions."
"I didn't assume," Frank said. "I merely suggested and was wrong. I trust you to know how you feel."
"Really?" Eddie said, tone erring on the side of harsh. "Do you trust me or do you think I'm lying to myself and you just know everything about me? Why would you even suggest that? It's— It's Buck! And I'm not like that. There's nothing wrong with it — of course there isn't — but I'm not. I married Shannon."
"Was there a choice in marrying Shannon?" Frank asked.
"Of course— I loved her!" Eddie spat. "I did. I loved her."
"I don't doubt that."
"Really? Because you sound like you do."
Frank shook his head. "I will never doubt the validity of your feelings, Eddie. I'm sure you did love Shannon. I wasn't for a minute suggesting that you didn't."
"But you were suggesting that I could… That it could be Buck, but then it couldn't have been her."
Frank sighed. "I was suggesting that it could be Buck and it could have been her, but I was wrong."
Eddie bit his lip hard to ground himself. "I don't… Buck's Buck. He's my best friend."
"I know that. I was simply suggesting that he might be something else as well."
"He can't be," Eddie said, his thoughts coming out in jumbled letters and pictures and wants and fears. "I'm not like that and he doesn't… He wouldn't— wouldn't feel that way."
"Would you?"
"I'm not like that. I already said."
"But would you?" Frank pressed gently. "Regardless of being 'like that'. If that wasn't something that even existed as a concept and things just were, would you?"
Eddie blinked.
No, of course not. It was Buck. Buck was Buck and Eddie was Eddie and it just wouldn't work, wouldn't happen, wouldn't be a possibility. It couldn't.
Eddie hesitated at that thought.
Couldn't.
There was a very big difference between 'couldn't' and 'wouldn't'.
He knew all the reasons he couldn't: he was straight, he was a wreck, he messed things up, he pushed people away, he was so angry at everything, he was a shell of a man, he'd ruined his marriage with Shannon, his parents would never accept him, Buck would never feel that way, he couldn't risk anything jeopardising Chris and Theo's lives.
But what were the reasons he wouldn't?
Buck was funny, he was smart, he was kind, he was light and laughter personified, he was messy and he was disorganised and he lashed out and he hurt so deeply and he was so purely and without falter himself and he was everything anyone could ever want in any kind of partner.
"But he's a man," Eddie said quietly.
"He is," Frank agreed. "Maybe he would be a great partner, but he's a man, or maybe he would be a great partner, and he's a man."
Oh shit.
Eddie felt the drop of something wet on his chest before he registered that he was crying. He swiped furiously at his eyes, inhaling sharply and looking at the wall behind Frank.
"Eddie, do you need to do your breathing exercises?" Frank asked.
Eddie shook his head, still wiping his eyes. "No. No, I'm not panicking."
"How do you feel right now?"
"Stupid," Eddie said, laughing ruefully. "Relieved. Confused. I don't know. It's taken me nine years to realise that 'can't' and 'am not anyway' aren't the same thing."
Frank chuckled. "Well, it takes some people a lot longer than that."
Eddie reached for a tissue to dry his face. "Shit. I wasn't counting on having any revelations today."
"Is this a revelation?" Frank asked. "Or is it something you knew and didn't want to know?"
"Easy," Eddie said, half-joking. "A man can only have so many life-altering realisations in one day."
"My apologies," Frank said dryly.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Eddie asked.
Frank shrugged. "Whatever you want."
—
Eddie left the session feeling simultaneously worse and lighter. He headed home with his mind on one thing only: how was he going to tell Buck?
Eddie was a great liar to most people but he was a horrendous liar to Buck. The very idea of keeping a secret from Buck made him uncomfortable, so lying to him was completely out of the question.
Telling him, on the other hand, was going to be difficult.
He had to make sure Buck didn't feel at all pressured to respond in turn with any potential confessions of his own. This wasn't about Buck wanting the same thing as Eddie. Eddie knew that that was highly unlikely and it would be homophobic to assume that Buck would feel the same way back just because he was bisexual. So, no, Eddie wasn't banking on any of his feelings being returned; he just needed to tell Buck anyway, which may have been selfish but Eddie was trying to view it as giving Buck the whole picture.
He'd decided that he would tell Buck on neutral ground. He didn't want either of their houses to become stained with the memory and he also didn't want Buck to feel any pressure to admit anything back so that meant Eddie's house, Buck's house, the firehouse and any public space was out.
They needed secluded, easy to leave and they couldn't have shared a ride there. Eddie wasn't about to force Buck to spend a car ride home with him after the inevitable rejection — not that there was really anything to reject as Eddie wasn't proposing they date or something of the sort. He was just saying how he felt.
The plan he landed on was a day without the boys when they weren't working in the park. The park was fairly neutral, although they went there with Theo quite a bit. It was the best Eddie could do and he would make sure it was a quiet bit of the park away from where they usually went with Theo.
Getting rid of the boys (said as lovingly as possible) proved to be harder than Eddie had originally thought. He ended up arranging for them to go to Hen's with some last minute pleading and bribes of Buck making snickerdoodles. Then he called Buck to let him know the plan.
"Why aren't we bringing Theo and Chris?" Buck asked expectedly when Eddie told him.
"I thought we could have some time just us," Eddie said, wincing at how odd that sounded. "We can gossip about the B-shift without having to worry about Theo repeating anything to the others."
Buck sounded apprehensive but he agreed. Eddie really had to go through with it now or Buck would think he was being weird and drag it out of him regardless.
They ended up going to the park the day after Eddie's informative discussion with Frank. Buck had asked why he couldn't just pick Eddie up on the way to the park and Eddie had come up with an excuse about needing to pick up some gas for his car anyway. Buck had hesitantly bought the lie.
Eddie arrived at the park, pulling into a free space, and sat in his car for a few minutes, going over what he was going to say in his head.
"Buck," he muttered to himself. "I've recently realised something about myself and it doesn't change us at all. I just want to be honest with you."
God, this was going to go horribly wrong. Eddie could feel it.
Just as he was about to back out and drive home and hopefully avoid Buck for the rest of his life, he spotted Buck waiting on a nearby bench.
He was fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, twisting the material around his fingers. There was a small frown on his face and he kept taking deep breaths and exhaling while glancing around, and Eddie realised he couldn't do that to Buck. He couldn't avoid him, couldn't lie to him. He wouldn't.
Eddie sucked in a breath and got out of the car.
Buck didn't spot him until he was sitting down on the bench beside him.
"Hey," Eddie said.
Buck jumped. "Oh! Hi."
Eddie could feel the first few drops of rain starting to land on him. He had better get this over with.
"Thanks for coming," he said, staring ahead.
Buck huffed a small laugh. "What is this? A funeral?"
Eddie supposed it was almost like a funeral. It was the beginning of something new whether he liked it or not. It was the death of his old life being exactly the way it was. He hoped there would be some kind of rebirth but he wasn't sure.
"No," he said. "I just… I've got something to tell you."
Buck nodded. "Okay. You can tell me anything. You know that."
Eddie looked at Buck briefly, a tiny glance. The guy looked tortured. Eddie figured it was best to do this quickly, not least because the rain was picking up and the sky was dappled with grey.
"Nothing has to change," he prefaced it with. "I'm not expecting that."
"Eddie, you're freaking me out here."
Eddie shook his head. "I'm sorry."
The rain was starting to come down in earnest now. The other people in the park were packing up their bags and leaving, children stomping in the forming puddles as their parents hurried them along back to their cars.
"I think I've…" Eddie frowned at himself. "I know that I've… I was talking to Frank yesterday and he called me out on something. And I realised that I've been telling myself that there's so many things I couldn't feel but I never really thought about whether I did feel them in the first place and I feel…" Here he had to raise his volume to be heard over the rain. "I feel that— that happiness is important. Your happiness is. And we're a team."
He was getting this all wrong. He could tell that by how Buck was radiating confusion.
"Of course we're a team," Buck said, rain dripping off his curls. "I've got your back any day."
Eddie hadn't said it until then — hadn't even let himself think it — but he was softly reminded of a blossoming wave of love in that moment.
"I've fallen in love with you."
The rain lashed it down, drenching the both of them. Buck said nothing.
"It doesn't change anything," Eddie continued after a beat. "I don't need it to. I know it couldn't. I just… I needed you to know."
Eddie risked looking at Buck and found him looking right back, eyes wide and lips parted.
"I'm sorry," Eddie said, nearly choking on the words as fear and sorrow rose in his gut. The rain mixed with his tears effortlessly.
"Couldn't it?"
A spark ignited.
"Couldn't what?" Eddie asked.
Buck bit his lip, looking down. "Couldn't it change anything?"
"Buck, I don't know what you—"
Gentle.
Buck was ever so gentle.
He was ever so hesitant and afraid and so, so brave because of it.
Eddie gasped at the kiss and it broke. Buck looked into Eddie's eyes, searching for something. Eddie leaned in the next time.
Maybe it couldn't change any of the reasons why Eddie couldn't feel like this, and maybe it would change them anyway.