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Buck hadn’t noticed it at first, in the blur of the building collapse. He was just so happy that everyone came out safe, happy to have Eddie back. It wasn’t until the scene had been cleared and everyone had been patched up that he got a good look at him, and Buck was horrified.
Eddie hadn’t been gone more than three months, but in that time he’d seemingly wasted away. This made no sense to Buck, given the last time he’d been in Texas he’d eaten more than his weight in tamales. The food was not the problem. He knew he’d been stressed, but if anything, he knew Eddie to be a stress eater, not the opposite, but here he was in his– their– apartment, having just changed into a borrowed pair of Buck’s pajamas and they hung off him. Buck can’t help notice that even his best asset, which he really doesn’t pay attention to because no, Maddie, I am not in love with my straight best friend, has seemingly shrunken.
“Since when don’t you fill out a pair of pants?” Buck accompanied with a playful, friendly slap on the ass. Eddie smirked and smacked him back, and soon they were chasing each other around the room. They’ve always been this tactile, this is nothing new. Buck had worried that would change after he came out, but Eddie made it clear that it changed nothing between them.
Oh, if only it had.
Buck didn't bring it up again until they collapsed on the bed, panting.
“Seriously, Eddie, you’ve lost like ten kilos, I didn’t think that was possible with your abuela’s cooking.”
Eddie tried to laugh it off. “Some of us have a bit more self control when it comes to Tex Mex. Besides, it's a bit different when you grow up with it.”
Buck let it go, but it wasn’t the only change he’d noticed. “And what’s with the haircut? Are you signing up for another tour?”
It was Eddie’s turn to look uncomfortable when Buck ruffled the hair on the back of his head. It was much shorter than he’d ever seen it, less than an inch and prickly as though it were freshly cut.
“It’s just started to thin a bit, that’s all. Like Chris says, I’m getting old.”
“None of the other men in your family are balding. Isn’t it supposed to be genetic?”
“Guess I’m just lucky.”
“No, Eddie, I think you’re sick. You look awful, man.”
Eddie scoffed. “Thanks Buck, happy to see you too.”
“I’m sorry but have you looked in a mirror lately? I’m not saying you don’t look good, but you don’t look well. You need to see someone. I can’t lose someone else, not right now.”
Bobby’s absence hung heavy over the two of them, and it was that statement that had Eddie throwing himself into Buck’s arms. They had hugged plenty of times over the years, but this time they hung onto each other with a sort of desperation. It was as though this were a rope rescue, and they were pulling each other from the rubble seconds before everything crumbled away.
They shared a bed that night, but come morning Buck was up early, researching primary care physicians over a cup of coffee.
“I’m sure you can get in with my guy, Dr. Erring. He’s always got a few appointments available throughout the week. Who did you usually see before you left LA, maybe you’d rather see them? Did you have someone in Texas? I’m sure they’ll need to fax your records over.”
Eddie, was, as usual, not up for Buck’s chatter without some caffeine in his system. He poured himself a large mug of coffee and sat down next to him, hugging the hot drink wearily. “I didn’t have a doctor in Texas. I mostly did Uber, and they don’t provide insurance, nor do they pay nearly enough to afford private. I don’t think I can afford to go to the doctor now, not until I’ve been at the station long enough for my benefits to kick back in.”
“Eds, don’t worry about it. This can’t wait for that. I can talk to Chim and see what we can work out. We’ll all pitch in if we have to.”
Eddie opened his mouth to protest this, but Buck shushed him with a finger to the lips. He would have liked to shut him up another way, but now didn’t feel like the right time for that, not when he’d just gotten back.
“You’d do the exact same if it were me, or Hen, or anyone else. So just shut up and let us take care of you.”
Buck had a strong suspicion that Eddie wasn't telling him everything. Thankfully, Christopher still saw him as just as cool of an uncle as he did when he was seven, and he spilled everything to him on the drive back to the airport.
“Dad’s been exhausted,” he reported. “He’s even started sleeping in!”
Eddie kept his eyes resolutely on the road, avoiding Buck’s, but he didn’t deny it.
“And his stomach is always upset, I’m looking forward to no longer having to share a bathroom with him.”
“Too many greasy enchiladas will do that to you,” His tone was defensive. “Besides, you know my lactose intolerant culo can’t stay away from the queso.”
“And you’re going bald!” Christopher added with a grin.
“You are lucky I’m driving, mijo,” Eddie smoothly changed the subject. “I’ve got stories I could tell about you too. At least I didn’t echar la guacamaya in front of a large crowd of people.”
Chris sputtered at that, and soon the two were bringing up every embarrassing thing either one has ever done. The conversation had drifted far from Eddie’s health, but Buck had gotten some good intel.
Buck got him in for an appointment with Dr. Erring the following afternoon. He was just as concerned with Eddie’s symptoms as Buck, and while a small, childish part of him is pleased that he’s right, a bigger part of him had desperately hoped the doctor would have laughed it off and said there was nothing going on. Buck knew from experience that when the doctor looked worried, it was really time to worry.
The doctor was concerned about Eddie’s weight loss, coupled with his gastrointestinal symptoms, fatigue, and general malaise. They left with orders for a variety of blood tests and a CT of Eddie’s abdomen. The doctor had been careful not to suggest any potential diagnoses, but Buck’s blood had run cold at the mention of the scan, because he hadn’t dared say it out loud or to himself, but Eddie’s appearance had reminded him strongly of a picture Maddie had shown him of him and Daniel. Daniel was pale and thin, much smaller than your average seven year old. His head had been shaved, and there was a tube coming from his left nostril and another coming from a small opening beneath his collarbone. Despite it all, he was beaming brightly as he cradled a newborn Buck in his arms.
Buck wasn’t squeamish, but the amount of blood they took from Eddie made his stomach turn. They seemed to at least be being thorough, testing for everything under the sun. Anemia, vitamin deficiencies, inflammation, and a word both of them refused to speak out loud. Buck hadn’t been allowed to accompany him to the CT, but he sat outside the entire time, biting his nails down to the quick. When Eddie returned, he seemed equally stressed.
“I knew something was up,” he’d admitted quietly. “I knew it wasn’t normal to be losing so much weight when eating so many tortillas, especially since Uber is a much less active job. But I pushed it aside and made Christopher my priority, as usual.”
All Buck could do was reach for Eddie’s hand as he drove them out of the parking garage. “Eddie, you are a wonderful dad, but part of being a good dad is taking care of yourself. What Christopher needs most is for you to be here, as in, earthside.”
“I know, I think part of me just didn’t want to face it, for it to become real.” Eddie swallowed, hard, and Buck could see the muscles working in the throat. “That doctor looked really scared, Buck. I haven’t seen a doctor look like that often and when they do, it's never good.”
Buck was also having his own internal freakout, but he did his best to assure Eddie. “Let’s just wait and see what tests show, Eds. No need to go coffin shopping just yet.”
“Buck!” Eddie snorts, and it’s a beautiful, unattractive noise. Buck is proud to say that he’s usually the one eliciting it. If he weren’t currently behind the wheel, there would be no stopping him from leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, but instead he settles for ruffling the back of his head, the short strands tickling his palm and making him shiver.
Thankfully, the results come back prior to the weekend, so they aren’t forced to wait around too long, and the doctor says that based on the scan and the blood results, he is able to cautiously say that he doesn’t think cancer is likely. Eddie let out a high-pitched whoop of delight, picking up first Christopher and then Buck and spinning both. Buck’s head was swimming from more than just the motion, and distantly he thought that maybe, after all this is sorted out, this could be them. Dancing around the living room, living together, and raising Christopher.
The tests did show multiple vitamin and nutrient deficiencies, along with some slightly elevated inflammatory markers, and the doctor then now ordered yet more blood tests as well as a colonoscopy and endoscopy, which Eddie had groaned at. Buck had foolishly offered to get one too, if it would make him feel better, but Eddie had only laughed. Privately, Maddie had remarked that if volunteering to get shish kebabbed mouth to ass with tubes just to make your “best friend” feel more comfortable wasn’t a sign that they were rapidly approaching something beyond friendship, she didn’t know what was. Buck had responded to that by threatening to sneak a cup of the colonoscopy prep into her morning coffee, but deep down her words stayed with him.
It wouldn’t be so crazy.
The current working theory was some sort of autoimmune or digestive disorder, possibly both, but as soon as the c-word is mostly out of the picture, the next action was to celebrate. The 118, as usual, chose to do this by means of beer and pizza.
Hen hadn’t been sure of these menu options, and had gently asked Eddie if he wanted to go with something easier on his stomach, given his current situation.
“You’re asking me and not Buck?” He’d retorted. “He’s the reason y’all already had oat milk when I joined. I think at least half of the team has some degree of lactose intolerance. Most people do.”
Ravi frowned at that. “Eddie, I think this is something much bigger than an intolerance, or like you said, several of us would be joining you for your upcoming scope. I love pizza as much as the next guy, but I’m willing to do Panera soup and pop instead of beer if that would work better for you.”
“None of us want you feeling sick tonight, not when we’re supposed to be celebrating,” May’s voice was gentle, but Eddie disregarded her words.
“I’m fine, this is what I want. Besides, I might have to give these things up for good depending on what this ends up being. I just want one last hurrah.”
None of them could say no to that, but they ended up wishing they had. Their night of celebration ended not with heartburn and hangovers, but with Eddie in Athena’s bathroom, where he’d spent the majority of the night. His voice was raw from having been sick repeatedly, and he’d burst the blood vessels in both eyes. His face was gaunt, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, and Buck sat next to him, rubbing his shoulders and wiping his mouth and not caring that everyone, including Maddie, could see.
Hen and Chim always doled out banana bags after an adventurous night, but this time Eddie was the only one getting one, and he’d only had maybe half a beer. None of them had ended up drinking much, too concerned with their friend.
Hen was taping the catheter to Eddie’s arm when she first brought it up. “Did the doctor mention celiac disease to you?”
“Uh yeah, I think so. That, Crohn’s, and UC.” Eddie’s head had begun to drift towards Buck’s shoulder, so he did most of the talking.
“It would make sense, with the beer and the pizza. One of our short term fosters had celiac disease, and it was pretty tough,” Karen explained. “Not that that’s what it is, or that it’ll be the end of the world if it is. There are so many good options out there these days, I think we still have some gluten free cheese cake in our freezer. Tastes just like the real thing.”
They ended up spending the night in Athena’s guest room, as Eddie wasn’t quite up for the drive home. Eddie was thoroughly drained and fell asleep easily, but Buck was restless and stayed up until almost three, reading up on his phone about celiac disease. There was a lot of overwhelming, conflicting information, but from what he understood, the description did fit Eddie. He then spent even more time trying to find a decent gluten-free beer brand, falling asleep hours later, phone in hand as the sun began to rise.
The prep was as brutal as everyone had said it was, but Buck stood by Eddie almost the entirety of it. Not the entirety, of course, they weren’t that close, but he stayed up all night with him, having a movie marathon and taking the “shots” with him, his being the red Gatorades from the case he’d bought, as Eddie couldn’t drink anything red prior to the procedure. He even went as far as refusing to eat anything in front of him, which Eddie insisted was unnecessary, but Buck saw how progressively irritable he got throughout the fasting period. He was rather whiny on the drive to the hospital, but Buck was patient, knowing he’d be the same way without his morning bagel.
The procedure was a lot faster than Buck had expected, and before he knew it he was being taken back to see him. Eddie was in a semi-reclined position, slowly sipping from a bottle of water, with the same lazy, sleepy look in his eyes he gets after he’s had one too many. The doctor walked in shortly after Buck.
“Hey, what’s the verdict, doc?” Eddie’s voice is slow and slightly slurred in a way that has Buck trying not to laugh. “Should I kiss pizza goodbye?”
The doctor- Dr. Pierce, according to his nametag, glanced towards Buck. “Are you alright with him hearing this?”
Eddie giggled at that. “Of course, he’s my boyfriend.”
Buck choked on his own saliva at that, and Dr. Pierce had to smack him on the back.
“Does he know that?”
Buck gave a final cough. “We’ll discuss that later. We’re both eager to hear the verdict.”
“Well, I still have to look at the tissue I biopsied to get the specifics in terms of severity, but I definitely see a gluten free diet in your future. It was quite a mess in there, Mr. Diaz. Your small intestine was angry. I’ll go ahead and put in a referral to a dietician, but in the meantime I’ll send your man home with some information sheets to get you started. Keep up with the iron and the multivitamin, it’ll take your system some time to recover.”
“Are firefighters gluten free?” Eddie’s voice seemed to have carried through the entire recovery suite, and Buck could hear laughter from behind several curtains. He was taken off guard when Eddie abruptly pulled him down and kissed him straight on the mouth. Hours of fluid restriction mean his lips are chapped and his mouth is dry and a bit sour, but Buck could feel the way blood rushed to his face and other less visible areas.
“Rest up Mr. Diaz, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll have the nurse bring him a wheelchair and you two should be able to leave whenever he’s feeling ready. He’s likely a bit of a fall risk right now and I don’t think he’d mind if you carried him, other Mr. Diaz,” Dr. Pierce’s eyes sparkled with mirth as he shut the curtain behind him, leaving the two men alone. Eddie beamed up at him and attempted to pull Buck into the bed with him.
It’s going to be a long day.