Archive of Our Own

Eddie's mind was running in circles. Could he have done more? Could he have prevented all of this? Or was this how things should be? Was this the best possible outcome? In the end, Mitchell got what he wanted, maybe not exactly how he wanted, but his son would finally get his transplant. At what cost, though? He just hoped that Nolan would never find out how he got his second chance at life.

He was pacing around the waiting room while the rest of the 118 sat around in gloomy silence, desperate for good news after the hell of a day they'd had. Especially—

His eyes landed on Buck. Slumped in the chair, staring blankly at the wall. Buck, who was usually the one trying to cheer up everyone else. The one to lighten the mood. It pulled at Eddie's heartstrings to see him like that. There was always a sense of wrongness when Buck wasn't smiling.

In a few steps, Eddie was right in front of him, but Buck didn't even look up. That was fine, he told himself. Although it wasn't, none of this was. But he didn't say anything and just sat down in the chair next to him, his knee pressed against Buck's. That still didn't get him a reaction, but the physical contact helped ground Eddie's own frayed nerves. Buck was alive and well. At least, as well as could be expected. He was just glad that things didn't turn out even worse.

A sigh escaped Eddie's lips. Waiting for good news regarding Nolan had his thoughts drifting to his own son. He wanted to check on him, to hold him and make sure he wasn't hurt. Deep down, he knew that Christopher was safely at home, miles away from the chaos. With Mitchell dead and his partner back in cuffs, there was no more threat. Eddie could finally breathe.

Right now, his focus needed to be on his best friend. He remembered the way Buck looked at him when he came running out of the hospital. Frantic and scared. Eddie had been a little preoccupied giving Mitchell CPR; he hadn't been able to reassure Buck. To show him that he was alright. Then, inside the hospital, things had been hectic, and Eddie needed to make sure Savanna was doing alright.

And when he walked into the waiting room, Buck had already retreated deep into his own head. Eddie tried to give him some space, to let Buck seek him out in his own time, but patience had never been his strong suit—or talking. So, he sat in silence, letting his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed.

This sucked. Buck was right beside him, but mentally, he was miles away. Eddie knew that feeling all too well. It visited him from time to time, and he usually just buried it. But this was Buck. Buck, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and masked it with a smile. Although none of them expected or even wanted him to. They loved him. Deep down, Buck had to know that. But Eddie would make sure Buck actually felt loved, no matter what. No matter how long it took, he was prepared to give him all the time in the world.

Opening his eyes, Eddie realized Buck was staring right through him, still caught in the tailspin of his own mind.

Eddie tried for a gentle smile as he bumped their shoulders, his eyes trailing over Buck's head wound. A bandaid was plastered over it. Just thinking about how Buck got hurt made his blood boil—at that man for hitting him, at Buck's recklessness, and at his own failure. He didn't protect him, didn't have his back.

He forced this thought down. Now wasn't the time.

"It's over. We are alright," Eddie whispered, leaning his head closer, for only Buck to hear.

Bunk blinked rapidly, his eyes slowly snapping back into focus, as he turned towards Eddie.

"There you are," Eddie breathed, relieved. "I was wondering when you'd come back to me."

"Are you hurt?" Buck asked low, his voice sounding strained.

"No," Eddie reassured him immediately. "I'm alright. I'm not the one who got hit with the butt of a gun." He glanced at the bandaid on Buck's temple, scowling.

Buck dropped his eyes, biting his lip. Eddie held back a sigh as he tried to catch Buck's gaze, but he turned his head away, blocking him out completely. It stung.

"What's wrong? Talk to me," Eddie murmured, placing his hand on Buck's shoulder, letting it rest there.

Buck opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find words as his eyes darted everywhere but Eddie's face. "I—"

The door swung open abruptly as Savanna walked in, her steps faltering when she took in the exhausted first responders spread out on the chairs. Under Eddie's hand, Buck immediately tensed. Eddie offered him a worried glance before turning his attention to Savanna.

She looked uncertain, but the relief on her face was undeniable. The mood in the room immediately lightened. This was it—the good news they'd been waiting for. Yet, it did nothing to lift the weight off Eddie's shoulders or ease Buck's tension.

He dropped his hand, letting it linger on Buck's arm a moment longer than necessary before he forced himself to get up. He flashed Savanna a smile that he hoped looked convincing, letting her gratitude go in one ear and out the other. It felt terrible. This woman was going through something unimaginable, and Eddie couldn't even summon genuine comfort for her. Instead, there was that lingering irritation because her arrival interrupted whatever Buck had been about to say.

When she left, Eddie's gaze remained fixed on the closing door. Relief washed over him as he dropped his smile.

"Well, I'm gonna go. See you all in 48 hours," Buck announced, giving Eddie a quick pat on the shoulder.

It startled Eddie enough to look at him. There was a smile on his face, tired and unconvincing. Without thinking, Eddie's hand shot out and caught Buck by the wrist. He was not ready to let him out of his sight just yet. Or ever again—

"See you guys next shift," Eddie called over his shoulder by way of goodbye and left with Buck in tow.

Buck didn't resist; he simply followed. It was unsettling to see him so compliant, and Eddie knew that he couldn't leave him alone in this state. He'd take him home, make sure he was safe. Pulling out his phone, he ordered an Uber to take them back to the station, where their trucks were still parked.

"Okay, the Uber will be here in a couple of minutes," Eddie said.

"Oh. Yeah, right," Buck mumbled, brow furrowing.

Eddie wasn't sure what to do with that reaction, but he was fine with a little silence for now. There would be time to talk, once they were clean and in more comfortable clothes.

He still hadn't let go of Buck's wrist, and Buck still hadn't called him out on it—Eddie doubted he'd even noticed.

It wasn't like him to be so subdued, but Eddie knew it wasn't a concussion. Buck's heartbeat was steady under his fingers. Whatever was wrong was mental, not physical. And Eddie didn't blame him; emotions were running high. A little sleep would do wonders for both of them. Dios, Eddie felt like he could sleep for a whole week—right after he checked on Chris.

When the Uber arrived, Eddie ushered Buck into the back seat before sliding in beside him. Quiet settled over them, broken only by the low hum of the radio.

Beside him, Buck was slumped against the door, exhaustion visibly pulling him down. His eyes were closed, and he looked ready to crash. Eddie resisted the urge to reach over and run a hand through his hair, turning to watch the familiar streets pass by instead.

The ride to the station wasn't long. Soon they'd hit the shower, and the thought filled Eddie with a mix of dread and relief. Washing off the day's grime was going to take energy he didn't have, but it would be worth it. He could already hear Buck whine about having to shower, and suppressed a faint smile—ironic, considering Buck usually took the longest showers of anyone.

Checking on him as the car pulled into the lot, Eddie saw that Buck's eyes were still closed, his breathing even, though he knew he was still awake. Eddie rested a hand on Buck's arm, and his eyes snapped open, flickering to Eddie before looking out the window as recognition set in. His thoughts must have wandered off again.

They piled out of the car, feet dragging. Although the station was bustling with the B-shift, the space between Eddie and Buck felt calm.

Reaching the lockers, Buck let out a low groan. "I really don't want to take a shower right now."

Eddie bit the inside of his cheeks to suppress a knowing laugh. "Come on. You'll feel better after." He nudged Buck's shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah," Buck sighed, shutting his locker again and heading towards the showers.

Eddie followed suit, a tired smile on his lips. The hot water helped melt away the physical tension, soothing Eddie's aching muscles. It was everything, and more, he needed right now, but he hurried through getting clean, eager to get off his feet.

He towelled himself dry and put on some fresh clothes, immediately feeling better, even as his aching muscles still begged to rest. Since he was ready before Buck, he sank onto the locker room bench and pulled out his phone to pass the quiet minutes. No new messages, but Instagram offered an easy distraction to wind down.

Buck walked in a few minutes later, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He frowned when he saw Eddie. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Of course," Eddie said nonchalantly.

"Okay..." Buck drawled, eyes darting around the empty room. "Why? Did you want to talk about something?"

"Nope."

Buck looked at him as if he had said something in Spanish, but continued tying his shoes, shaking his head in confusion. Eddie waited patiently, only getting up once Buck was finished so they could fall into step with each other. Even as they walked, Buck kept staring as if silently trying to solve a riddle he couldn't grasp. There was no need for him to know what Eddie was up to yet—he'd just try to argue. Reaching out, he draped his arm over Buck's shoulder, steering him past his own truck and towards Eddie's.

"Wh—Eddie, my car is over there."

"I know," Eddie replied without slowing down.

Buck let out a defeated sigh. "You're acting weird."

"Am I?" He glanced at Buck.

"Yes. Ever since the hospital, actually."

"No, I don't think so." They reached Eddie's truck, and he indicated at the passenger side with his chin. "Get in."

Buck scowled at him, but did as he was told. "I can drive, you know. It's just a little scratch. I'm not concussed or anything."

Eddie started the engine, giving Buck one last look. "I know."

"So you gonna drop me off at my place, because of what?"

"I'm not dropping you off at your place."

"I don't need a babysitter," Buck huffed.

Eddie cast a sideways glance at him. "I never said you did."

"Then why are we going to your place?" Buck asked, his tone deflating.

"I thought you'd want to see Chris. He'd love to see you."

"I-I mean, yeah, of course I would love to see Chris. But I'm exhausted, Eddie. I don't think it's a good idea for me to... you know, hang out with him like this."

"Buck, Chris isn't a little kid anymore. He can handle you being tired. Besides, he's got school soon, and I could use some help with breakfast." Eddie offered a small, sheepish smile.

Buck squirmed in his seat, his fingers picking nervously at the hem of his shirt.

"If you don't want to, that's fine," Eddie said slowly, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "I can handle breakfast. Just thought you might like to do it."

"No, I—yeah. I can make breakfast," Buck said with a weak, unconvincing chuckle, hunching over as if trying to shrink into his seat. "We both know you'll burn it anyway."

Eddie's brow furrowed, but he kept his voice light. "Ha, yeah."

They would have a serious conversation later. Not now. First he needed to get them home and get Chris ready for school. He'd have all the time in the world to figure this out once they were inside—and alone. It wasn't like Buck was going anywhere.

When Eddie pulled into the driveway, Buck followed him through the front door like a shadow.

"I'll... start on breakfast," Buck nearly whispered and headed straight for the kitchen.

Eddie watched him go, noting the tight strain in Buck's shoulders. It was maddening not to know what was going on in his head, but first things first.

Christopher was still fast asleep in bed, looking entirely peaceful. Eddie slipped into the bed behind his son, resting his forehead near the back of Chris's neck. A heavy, involuntary sigh escaped his chest. Chris was safe. Unharmed.

"Dad?" Christopher's voice was a groggy whisper. "Are you okay?"

"I am now," Eddie murmured back as he held him close.

"Did something happen at work?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, mijo."

"Are you sure?"

Eddie laughed softly. "I'm sure."

His son was growing up far quicker than Eddie would like. He knew that it was partly his own fault—being a firefighter and a former medic meant running straight into danger. For Chris, it meant living with the constant, quiet fear that his father might not make it back.

"I love you, mijo."

"Love you too, Dad."

For a moment, Eddie allowed himself to just sink into the quiet—until the sharp clinking of kitchen utensils cut through the hallway.

"What was that?" Chris asked, a sudden edge of alarm in his voice.

Eddie stroked his son's hair, keeping his touch steady. "It's just Buck."

"Wait," Chris turned his neck, eyes wide. "Buck's here?"

"Yeah. He's making breakfast."

A bright smile instantly spread across Chris's face. "What are you waiting for? Get up! I have to get ready so I can see him."

Eddie hesitated. "Chris..."

His son's expression dropped immediately. "What?"

"Buck is... having a hard time right now. Something happened on the call today, and he's a little shaken up. So don't be upset if he's acting a little different, alright?"

Chris stared at him for a second, digesting his words. "But Dad, that's just all the more of a reason to hurry up. We can cheer him up."

A soft smile tugged at Eddie's lips, and he pressed a kiss to Chris's temple. His kid was too good for this world. "You're right." Eddie stood up, and Chris immediately swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'll head into the kitchen to see if Buck needs help."

Chris froze. "Don't touch the food. We want it to be edible."

An incredulous huff tore out of Eddie's throat. Or not; sometimes even his child could be a real handful. "I'm not that bad in the kitchen. We managed just fine before Buck came into our lives."

"Barely."

"Alright, I'm just gonna go." Eddie shook his head in exasperation, scowling playfully as his own son stabbed him in the back.

When Eddie walked into the kitchen, Buck looked up from the stove. His eyes immediately flickered to the scowl on Eddie's face, his movements stiffening.

"Uhm—you good?" Buck asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Eddie tried to smooth out his expression. "My own son thinks I'm a total disaster in the kitchen," he huffed.

Buck blinked at him. "What?"

"He told me not to offer you help because I'd end up ruining the breakfast."

That startled a genuine laugh out of Buck. Eddie felt a wave of relief. If Chris's teasing brought their Buck back, Eddie could take the hit to his pride all day long.

"You know, he's not wrong," Buck murmured, relaxing slightly as he flipped a pancake.

Eddie crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Oh? Is that how it's gonna be?"

Buck froze mid-motion; the easiness vanished in an instant.

The sudden shift almost knocked the wind out of Eddie, a sharp knot forming in his stomach. "Buck, hey—I was just joking—

"Dad!" Chris's voice rang out from his bedroom.

Eddie stole one last look at Buck, taking in the rigid posture and uncertain eyes, before heading back down the hall. "Chris? You good?"

A quick scan revealed his son leaning precariously toward his closet, arms outstretched, trying to reach something high on the top shelf.

"Mijo, what are you doing?" Eddie asked. "A second ago you couldn't get ready fast enough to see Buck."

A huff left Chris's lips as he looked at Eddie like he was the one being difficult. "I know, Dad. I do! But there's something I need to give him, and I can't reach it. Can you just..." he gestured upward, "help me get it down?"

"Sure." Eddie stepped beside him. "What am I looking for?"

"That box right there." Chris made another quick grabbing motion.

Getting the box down was easy enough. Eddie placed it on the bed and popped the lid open, revealing a colorful drawing inside. With a look of pure determination, Chris picked it up and made his way out of the room. Eddie followed silently, moved by his son's single-minded focus.

He resisted the urge to hover as Chris navigated his crutches while carefully clutching the paper. It took a little longer than it would for other kids, but seeing that stubborn drive in his son was always inspiring.

"Buck!" Chris called out as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

Buck turned instantly, a forced smile springing to his lips. "Hey, buddy." He shot a quick glance at the pan before meeting Chris halfway, dropping to one knee to pull him into a tight hug. Buck buried his face against Chris's shoulder, his eyes shutting tight as some of the invisible weight seemed to melt off him.

A happy giggle filled the room. "Careful! don't ruin your present," Chris warned, trying to sound stern.

Buck broke the hug carefully, a faint frown forming. "Sorry, buddy. Didn't see it."

"Nah, it's fine," Chris said brightly, holding out the paper. "Look, it's a drawing. I was gonna save it for movie night on Saturday, but Dad said you weren't feeling good."

Buck blinked, shooting Eddie a brief, unnerved look before turning back to Chris. "Thank-thank you, Chris. I uh I appreciate it." He stared at the drawing, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Wow. You really outdid yourself this time. I love it."

He pulled Chris into another long embrace.

"You don't have to worry about me, though," Buck added softly into Chris's hair. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"But—" Chris started.

"Okay!" Let's get some food in you before school," Eddie interrupted gently. "Plus, I think Buck needs to save those pancakes before they burn, without any of my doing, I might add."

Buck snapped back to reality with a sudden start, practically sprinting to the stove. Eddie guided Chris to his chair, watching out of the corner of his eye as Buck flipped the pancake with practiced ease.

"All good, still edible," Buck announced, letting out a breath.

"Of course it is. I don't think you can mess up the food. You're Buck," Chris stated as a matter of fact.

"Oh, I've messed up plenty," Buck admitted, offering a small smile.

"I don't believe you."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his son. "Oh? I know that you idolize him, but even Buck isn't perfect."

"Listen to your Dad, Chris," Buck tried for a lighthearted tone, though Eddie could hear the hollow strain underneath. "I'm honored, but I make mistakes all the time. Just ask Bobby." A distant look came back into his eyes before he cleared his throat and picked up the plate full of pancakes. "Anyway, breakfast is served."

"Yesss," Chris cheered, wasting no time serving himself a stack and drowning it in syrup. Eddie internally cringed at the sugar intake, but he didn't have the heart to tell him off today.

Buck lingered, nursing his empty plate until Eddie served himself first. Only then did he take a portion for himself. It was a subtle, uncertain gesture, so completely unlike his usual self, who took up a lot more space than this. It set off alarm bells in Eddie's head, but he kept quiet. He wasn't having this conversation with Christopher in the room. The kid already shouldered too much for his age.

"Dis is so good, Buck," Chris praised with a full mouth.

"Buddy, no talking with food in your mouth. Swallow first," Eddie reprimanded.

"But Daaad..." Chris whined.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, shooting him a quiet warning look.

"Listen to your Dad, Chris," Buck chuckled softly. "But I appreciate the compliment, young man. Much obliged." He threw in a pseudo-sophisticated accent.

Eddie snorted, choking slightly on his water. It was a horrible attempt at an accent.

They finished eating in comfortable quiet. Eddie didn't have the mental capacity to manufacture small talk, and he was terrified of accidentally saying something that would send Buck back into a tailspin. Buck's reaction to that simple joke earlier had completely rewritten Eddie's understanding of how fragile his best friend's mental state was right now.

When Chris finished, he got up to get his backpack, with Eddie right behind him.

Eddie paused in the doorway, looking back at Buck. "I'm taking Chris to school. Don't touch the dishes—I'll do them when I get back. Just... sit down, watch some TV, relax."

Buck offered a small smile that did absolutely nothing to reassure Eddie. "Alright. I'll be fine. Go be a Dad."

Eddie gave a single nod, ushering Chris out to the truck.

The drive to school was heavy with silence. Eddie was at a loss for words, and Chris—usually so talkative—seemed settled in his own thoughts. His sweet, optimistic kid, now drowning in his worries. After losing Shannon, Chris only had his dad left—and Buck, who had found his way into their lives and into their hearts. But both Buck and Eddie walked into danger for a living. It wasn't fair on his kid.

When they pulled up to the drop-off line, Chris turned in his seat and looked Eddie dead in the eyes. "Take care of Buck while I'm at school, okay?"

Eddie's breath hitched in his throat, a sharp prickle behind his eyes. "Of course, mijo," he cleared his throat, swallowing down the lump. "You just focus on school."

Chris nodded, grabbed his crutches, and climbed out of the truck. Eddie sat there watching him trek towards the school doors, willing himself not to break down right there and now.

Eddie hesitated before unlocking his front door, steeling himself. The ride back had been short—far too short to come up with a plan. Though, in truth, all the time in the world wouldn't have been enough for him to figure out something sensible to say right now. Words were hard. That was why he usually avoided them, hoping for the best.

It usually worked, but his therapist was right: he needed to start facing difficult situations, instead of waiting for them to sort themselves out. And what better time than now?

He slowly stepped into his own house, feeling strangely like he was trespassing. Come on, Eddie, pull yourself together.

"I'm back," he announced, although he was sure Buck already heard the door.

"Welcome home," Buck called back, the usual cheer completely missing from his voice.

Eddie's eyes scanned the room, hoping not to find him where he thought Buck would be, only to find him doing exactly that—scrubbing the dishes in the kitchen. A heavy sigh escaped Eddie's lips, causing Buck to instantly hunch his shoulders, shrinking into himself. Eddie froze, internally cursing his own carelessness, before stepping up beside him and softly resting a hand over Buck's.

"I told you I would do those," Eddie said gently.

Buck kept scrubbing, his limbs rigid. "You were taking Christopher to school."

"I'm back now. I can finish up."

"No—it's fine. I'm almost done."

Defeated, Eddie took a step back, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. "All right."

He watched the tight strain in Buck's shoulders under his shirt. Buck's movements were clipped, his chest rising and falling much too fast. Looking closer, Eddie caught the fine tremor in his fingers. Clenching his jaw, Eddie tried to keep his tone soft so he wouldn't startle him.

"Are you alright, Buck?"

"Yeah, yeah—I'm fine, just peachy," Buck huffed out.

"Buck—"

"Drop it, Eddie!" Buck snapped, whipping his head around. His eyes were blown wide open and bloodshot, as if he'd spent the last twenty minutes fighting back tears.

Eddie felt stricken, his hand reaching out purely on instinct. "Buck..."

"No!" Buck flinched violently away from his touch, the plate slipping from his wet hands.

It shattered against the tile with a loud, ringing crash.

Then, total silence. Neither of them moved. Buck's eyes were locked on the broken ceramic at his feet, fresh tears welling up and spilling over. Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away from him. It rattled something deep in his chest.

"Buck..." he tried again, keeping his voice as low and steady as possible.

Buck's head hung low, tears streaming freely down his face now. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't—I didn't mean to drop it. Re-really."

"Hey, hey, Buck," Eddie interrupted softly, taking a cautious step forward. "It's alright. It's just a plate; I can buy a new one."

"Sorry, sorry..." Buck repeated like a mantra, completely deaf to Eddie's words.

"Buck," Eddie stepped over the shattered ceramic, blocking Buck's view of the mess. "Look at me."

Buck's gaze snapped up, frantic and rimmed with red, his entire body trembling.

Eddie swallowed hard as he took in the state of his friend. He didn't reach for him this time—he just held his ground, keeping his own breath steady and deliberate. "You're okay. We're okay," Eddie whispered, holding his gaze. "Forget about the plate and just breathe with me, okay?" He gave him an encouraging nod.

Buck mirrored it, frantic and shallow.

"Good. Good. Breathe in..." Eddie took a slow, deep breath. "...and out." He exhaled visibly, exaggerating the movement.

At first, Buck's gasps were ragged, but as they stood there, breathing together, the panic slowly receded.

"Just like that," Eddie cooed softly. "You're doing great."

Buck closed his eyes. Eddie watched him as his body slowly calmed down and the trembling subsided. It was going to be fine. They were going to talk this out, and he was going to make sure Buck was okay. One minute at a time.

When Buck's breathing finally leveled out and his eyes fluttered open, Eddie slowly stepped out of his space.

That earned him a quiet whimper from Buck. Eddie blinked, taking in the sudden flush of embarrassment painted across his friend's face. A soft smile tugged on Eddie's lips.

"I'm not leaving," Eddie reassured him gently. "Let's just move over to the couch... and talk. Okay? Can you do that for me? I'm worried about you."

Buck gave a small, slow nod, still looking a little queasy, but grounded at last.

Eddie carefully took Buck by the wrist, leading him to the couch. His eyes never left Buck for even a second to make sure he wouldn't trip. Every inhale shook Buck's chest. Eddie guided him down onto the cushions, sitting right beside him with their legs touching.

He took Buck's hand in his own. "Buck, what's going on? Is it something that happened on the call?"

"I'm sorry," Buck whispered, his voice cracking.

Eddie shook his head. "Stop. There is nothing—"

"No!" Buck interrupted. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't be the one comforting me. I—He threatened Christopher, and I made everything worse by being..." He motioned vaguely toward himself. "You know. By being me. I totally understand if you're mad at me, Eddie, and I'm really sorry for everything that happened today."

Eddie went completely still, a scowl forming on his face.

"You can yell at me if you want. I deserve it," Buck rushed on. "Really, it's fine. You don't have to hold back on me. Just, just get it all out. I don't want there to be any bad blood between us, you know."

"Dios mio, Buck, stop," Eddie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Buck's mouth snapped shut, his shoulders squaring up defensively.

"I don't..." Eddie took a deep breath. "Why would I want to yell at you? You did nothing wrong, Buck. None of this is your fault."

"But—"

"Buck," Eddie deadpanned.

"You're looking at me like that again."

"Like what?"

"Like you're angry."

Eddie exhaled sharply. "I am angry, Buck." He held up a hand to silence whatever Buck was about to say. "But not for the reasons you think. I'm angry at Mitchell and his partner for threatening my son. I'm angry at them because they hurt you. Hell, I'm angry at myself because I just stood there, unable to protect you—" He took another breath. "And yes, Buck, I am angry at you for acting so recklessly. You can't keep doing that..."

Buck averted his eyes. "So you are angry at me," he mumbled.

"Look at you, Buck! He hit you! And I couldn't stop him," Eddie snapped, his voice rising despite his best efforts. "What they said about Chris? Total bullshit. There is no way they would have harmed him, so you didn't put Chris in any danger! You put yourself in danger for God's sake! We are lucky nothing worse happened. Do you hear me? He had a gun, Buck! A gun! You could have been shot, and what would I have done then?"

The words echoed off the walls. Eddie scowled, instantly furious at himself for letting his anger spill over like he promised he wouldn't.

Buck just sat there, offering a sad, tiny smile.

"Buck... I'm sorry," Eddie exhaled, dragging a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to yell."

"It's fine. I deserve it."

"No! Listen to me! You do not deserve to be yelled at, okay?"

"You always yell when I do something stupid," Buck whispered.

"Yeah, I do. And I'm sorry that I let the anger take over so often. I'm actually working on that in therapy..." Eddie admitted, his tone dropping. "It's just terrifying when you are on your self-sacrificing streaks, okay? The thought of losing you scares the hell out of me, and I guess I don't know how to show it. If you can't take better care of yourself for your own sake, then do it for Christopher. If anything were to happen to you, he would..."

He trailed off, averting his gaze, terrified that his voice would betray the sheer scale of his own panic. Just picturing a world without Buck made his chest physically ache.

Buck leaned in closer, but Eddie kept his eyes fixated firmly on the ceiling.

"Eddie," Buck started, his voice rough. "Christopher is all I could think about out there. I don't want him to lose me, but I sure as hell won't let him lose his father. Or let you lose him. You didn't see how you looked at me after the Tsunami when... when you thought you'd lost him."

"Buck..."

"You two need each other. If taking the hit keeps both of you safe, I'm fine with being in the crossfire."

"Well, I'm not!" Eddie snapped, his gaze whipping back to meet bright blue eyes. "Do you really think I could live with myself if you—" His breath hitched violently in his throat.

"And you think I could?" Buck choked out.

"I'm not the one running headfirst into lethal situations!"

"No? What about that call where you went down the hole to get that boy, but didn't come back up when I tried to pull you out, because you cut the damn rope?" Buck demanded, fresh tears glistering in his eyes. "I held the cut end of it in my hands, Eddie! You were buried alive, and I didn't know if I would ever see you again! Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?"

"Do you really want to go there, Buck? Really?" Eddie countered, his pulse spiking. "Because I have a long list of calls where you were acting recklessly. And trust me, it's not getting any easier to watch. If anything, it gets worse every damn time. And that one time with the drill-hole? You finally got a taste of that exact horror I feel every time you throw yourself into danger without thinking! Doesn't feel good, does it?"

"No," Buck whispered. "When everything collapsed around us a-and swallowed you up, I-I thought I lost you. Bobby was trying to follow protocol, but I couldn't just stand there! So I-I tried to dig. I only had my hands, though," he scoffed weakly, staring down at his palms. "It barely made a dent."

Eddie's mind went completely blank. "You tried to dig me out with your bare hands?"

A breathless, self-deprecating laugh escaped Buck's lips. "Yeah. Stupid, right?"

"It's not," Eddie breathed, his heart doing a violent twist. "I... I did not know you did that."

"Well. You know me. Always acting without thinking."

"Yeah, but that's what makes you who you are: a good man. With a big heart." Eddie reached out, gently cupping Buck's face between his hands as he leaned closer. "Just... promise me you'll be more careful. Please. I really can't lose you, Buck. Like... ever."

Buck's eyes darted frantically across Eddie's face. "I—" He licked his lips, a nervous, breathless sound slipping past them.

"Buck," Eddie urged, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

"Eddie," Buck said, his voice trembling. "I can't—"

"For crying out loud, why can't you?" Hot frustration flared in Eddie's chest. "Does a future with you, Chris, and me mean nothing to you? What about the 118?"

"That's not..." Buck's eyes widened, his gaze dropping for a split second. "I just can't think straight right now..."

"Why?" Eddie exhaled, exasperated.

"Do you seriously not realize how close you are right now?"

Eddie blinked, the words taking a moment to register. Buck's face was flushed, a deep pink spreading up his neck.

They were barely inched apart. Eddie's thumbs resting along Buck's jawline, his fingers cradling his face. If he just leaned in...

His eyes flickered down to Buck's lips. He swallowed hard, suddenly unable to tear his gaze away. His thumb shifted, brushing softly across Buck's bottom lip.

Buck let out a sharp, hitching gasp. "Eddie?"

The sound was barely audible, but it snapped Eddie back to reality. He stilled, his eyes widening as the weight of what he was doing crashed over him.

Before he could pull away, Buck's hands flew up, wrapping tightly around Eddie's wrists to anchor his hands where they were.

"Can I kiss you?" Buck asked, his voice trembling, his eyes darting anxiously between Eddie's eyes and his mouth.

Eddie's heart slammed against his ribs. His gaze fell back to Buck's parted lips, and he couldn't take the space between them for another second. He closed the gap, pressing their lips together in a frantic, desperate kiss.

It was messy, born of raw feelings and years of built-up tension. Eddie's teeth caught slightly on Buck's lower lip, and Buck let out a gasp, his hands sliding down to grip Eddie's thighs. He took it as an invitation, deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with Buck's as a quiet sigh escaped his own throat.

One of Eddie's hands slid up into the soft hair at the back of Buck's neck, fingers curling gently around the strands. He pulled Buck in until there was no more space left between them, their hot breaths mingling in the tiny gap as they fought for oxygen.

His lungs finally screamed for air, forcing Eddie to reluctantly pull back a fraction of an inch.

Buck let out a soft, needy whine, trying to follow his mouth, but Eddie held him gently in place, their foreheads resting together. Both of them were gasping, Buck's hot air brushing over Eddie's cheeks.

Buck's fingers clutched at the front of Eddie's shirt, tugging at the fabric. "Don't stop, Eddie," he mumbled against his lips, his voice thick. "I've been waiting too long for this."

Eddie stilled, staring at Buck's flushed face. "How long?" he breathed, his fingers gently stroking Buck's neck.

Buck's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes flickering uncertainly as he looked at Eddie.

"Buck," Eddie murmured, tilting his head slightly to keep Buck's gaze locked onto his. "How long?"

"I..." Buck stuttered, his confidence dissolving into an embarrassed chuckle. "I'm not completely sure."

"Buck..."

"A while," Buck admitted in a hushed tone. He dropped his eyes, his fingers nervously picking at Eddie's shirt. "I think I realized it back when I filed the lawsuit. When I wasn't allowed to see you or Chris."

Eddie froze, his fingers stilling. The heat in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold, heavy lump in his throat.

"I know that was my own fault," Buck added hurriedly, panic lacing his voice as Eddie went rigid. "I know I ruined everything back then—"

"Buck," Eddie interrupted gently, pulling back just enough to look Buck dead in the eyes. His other hand slid around Buck's neck as well, as he laced his fingers together. "Stop. Look at me."

He placed a gentle kiss against Buck's birthmark. "I forgave you for that. Remember? So did everyone else."

"How can you? I can't even forgive myself," Buck whispered, leaning closer, his brow furrowed. "It was so stupid. But I-I was so angry, you know? I wanted my life back."

"You were hurting."

"And I ended up hurting all of you by only thinking of myself. By acting without thinking. Again."

"We all made mistakes, Buck."

"I'm the only one who keeps repeating the same ones over and over again."

"You're not," Eddie said softly. "I keep telling myself to keep my anger in check, and it keeps blowing up in my face. And most of the time, I take it out on... you."

Buck let out a huff of air. "Yeah. Because most of the time I'm the reason you're angry."

Eddie couldn't help the fond laugh that bubbled up in his chest, warming him from the inside out. "I guess there is some truth to that."

The lingering hurt in Buck's eyes melted away, a small genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "God, I love that."

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Love what?"

"Your laugh."

Heat flared in Eddie's cheeks. "Uh. What?"

Buck bit his bottom lip, his gaze dropping for a second before meeting Eddie's again. "It's nice. Your voice in general, really. Pretty... just like its owner."

"Now, you're overdoing it," Eddie groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You better get used to it, now that I don't have to keep those thoughts to myself anymore," Buck murmured, his voice dropping into a deep, low rumble.

"Dios, mío, vas a acabar conmigo," Eddie muttered into his palms.

"Hey, come on. That's not fair. I don't speak Spanish," Buck whined playfully.

"I know," Eddie grinned, feeling smug as he uncovered his face. "That's why I said it in Spanish."

"Aww, spoilsport," Buck pouted, though his eyes were sparkling. "But... hey. You never said when you, uh... you know. Started to..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely between them.

"When I what?" Eddie feigned confusion, thoroughly enjoying watching Buck squirm.

"You know," Buck tried again with a nervous chuckle, searching Eddie's face.

"You mean when I realized that the feelings I have for my best friends aren't platonic?"

Buck's face lit up instantly. "Yeah. Yeah, that."

"I don't know. Maybe when I put you in my will as Christopher's legal guardian?"

Eddie watched as Buck processed the information. A rapid succession of emotions flickered across his face—confusion, realization, and finally, sheer shock.

"I'm so dumb. How did I not..." Buck stared at him, looking positively horrified with himself. "How didn't I realize it then?"

"To be fair," Eddie said quietly, taking Buck's hand and lacing their fingers together, "I don't think I did either back then. But, you know, things have never been conventional between us. We basically started co-parenting my son after what... a month of knowing each other? I don't blame you for not noticing. It took me some time to realize it myself. And honestly, it took me even longer to come to terms with those feelings. But what I did know, even back then, was that you were special, and my feelings for you. I just didn't realize it was romantic.

"Because I'm a guy?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

"So what are you? Gay? Bi?"

Eddie let out a soft laugh. "Is that important? I love you, Buck. That's all that matters."

"Of course—yeah. Right," Buck stammered softly. "Sorry. I just, I never thought you'd actually like me back."

"There are plenty of people who like you, Buck. Always remember that," Eddie emphasized, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "But that's not what I said. I love you. You hear me? I am in love with you, Evan Buckley. So don't you dare deliberately put yourself in harm's way ever again."

Buck just stared at him, stunned. "Oh, my God. Wait. Is this actually happening? Because I love you too, Eddie. So much. So, so much. Like, really—"

Eddie shut him up with a kiss—deliberate, slow, and deep.

He slid his hands up, sliding them through blonde hair, pulling him back in. Buck's initial shock melted instantly, his lips moving against Eddie's with a sudden, needy urgency. A quiet sigh caught in the back of Eddie's throat as Buck's hand slid under the hem of his shirt, shuddering as it made contact with his skin.

This felt right. The steady warmth of his best friend, the taste of his lips, the quiet safety of his living room. With everything out in the open, Eddie didn't have to torture himself anymore. He could just be and enjoy it.

He deepened the kiss, pulling Buck flush against him until there was no space left, letting Buck's weight sink comfortably against his chest as the rest of the world faded away.