Chapter Text
The oncology floor smelled like antiseptic and burnt coffee.
Buck had come to hate that smell over the last year.
It lived in his skin now, somewhere deep beneath the surface. Underneath the fading bruises from IVs and blood draws. Beneath the thin white scars crossing his chest from surgeries. Beneath the exhaustion that no amount of sleep ever seemed to fully touch anymore.
A year ago, he’d walked into this hospital terrified and trying not to show it.
Today, he sat in the same uncomfortable chair with a tissue pressed beneath his nose while Eddie bounced his leg hard enough to shake the entire row of seats.
“Hh…hih…”
Buck sniffled thickly and squinted toward the ceiling.
“Hih-ITSCHOO! HAHH-HE’TCHIEW! Heh…heh…AITCHOO!”
The sneezes ripped through him violently enough to leave his chest aching afterward. He groaned softly, immediately dissolving into wet coughing that bent him forward.
“Easy, baby,” Eddie murmured.
A warm hand spread across Buck’s upper back immediately.
Always there.
Always.
Buck coughed thickly into his elbow, chest rattling unpleasantly, before accepting another tissue from Eddie. The trash can beside their chairs was already overflowing with crumpled tissues from the last forty minutes alone.
The cold had started three days ago.
Theo had brought it home a week ago, all sniffles and sleepy eyes and dramatic complaints from the couch while Eddie made grilled cheese cut into dinosaur shapes. Chris caught it two days later.
And Buck, with an immune system still battered from months of chemo and radiation, had been doomed from the start.
Now his nose was raw, his throat felt like sandpaper, and every sneeze seemed determined to shake apart what little energy he had left.
Eddie adjusted the blanket tucked around Buck’s shoulders for probably the hundredth time.
“You’re freezing again.”
“I’b fide,” Buck croaked miserably through congestion.
Eddie gave him a look.
The look.
The one that said Buck had absolutely no idea who he was trying to fool.
Buck sighed and leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder.
Across the waiting room, someone laughed quietly. Phones buzzed. A nurse called another name.
Life continued.
But for Buck and Eddie, the world had narrowed down to one door.
One doctor.
One set of test results.
Cancer free.
Or not.
Buck swallowed hard.
Beside him, Eddie’s leg kept bouncing.
Buck had noticed all the little things over the last year. The tells Eddie couldn’t hide no matter how hard he tried.
The clenched jaw during chemo infusions.
The sleepless pacing after surgeries.
The way Eddie always sat too straight in hospital rooms, like if he relaxed for even a second the entire world would collapse.
And today—
Today Eddie had whispered at least three Hail Marys in the corner near the coffee machine when he thought Buck wasn’t looking.
Buck reached over slowly and rested his hand on Eddie’s knee.
Immediately the bouncing stopped.
Eddie looked at him.
Buck squeezed gently.
“We’re okay,” he whispered hoarsely.
Eddie’s eyes went painfully soft.
“You don’t know that yet.”
Buck smiled tiredly.
“Neither do you.”
Before Eddie could answer, the office door opened.
“Mr. Buckley-Diaz?”
Both of them stood immediately.
Well.
Eddie stood immediately.
Buck attempted to stand, got halfway there, swayed slightly from dizziness and cold medicine, and ended up clutching Eddie’s arm.
“Honey,” Eddie said quietly, alarm flashing across his face.
“I’b okay.”
“You are absolutely not okay.”
Buck sniffled thickly.
“Hih…hh…Hih-ITSCHOO! ITSCHOO! HAHH-HE’TCHIIEEWWW!”
The force of the sneezing doubled him over again.
Eddie caught him automatically.
The doctor pretended not to notice.
The office hadn’t changed.
Same beige walls. Same anatomy posters. Same little jar of peppermints on the desk Buck wasn’t allowed to eat anymore because they irritated his throat.
Buck sat carefully in the chair while Eddie settled beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his shoulders like he physically could not stop touching him anymore.
Not after this year.
Not after almost losing him.
Dr. Morgan smiled gently as she opened the file.
“Well,” she said warmly, “I think today is a very good day.”
Buck stopped breathing.
Beside him, Eddie went utterly still.
The doctor looked up.
“Your scans are clear. Your bloodwork looks excellent. There’s no evidence of active disease.”
Silence.
Buck blinked once.
Twice.
“What?”
Dr. Morgan smiled wider.
“You’re cancer free, Evan.”
Eddie made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
Then he was moving.
He grabbed Buck so fast the chair squeaked against the floor, pulling him into a crushing hug.
“You did it,” Eddie breathed shakily against his hair. “You did it, baby. Holy shit, you did it.”
Buck laughed helplessly.
Or tried to.
It dissolved instantly into emotional tears and coughing.
“Easy, easy—”
But Eddie was crying too now, laughing wetly while kissing Buck’s face over and over.
“You did it.”
Another kiss.
“You’re here.”
Another.
“You’re okay.”
Buck’s own tears slipped free.
A year.
A whole year of terror.
Surgeries. Radiation burns. Chemo sickness. Fevers. Blood transfusions.
Nights Eddie sat awake making sure Buck was still breathing.
And now—
Now—
Cancer free.
Buck pressed his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder and cried.
The doctor quietly handed over tissues.
Eddie took half the box.
Eventually they settled down enough to continue the appointment.
Eddie kept one arm firmly around Buck the entire time.
Not subtle. Not apologetic.
Like he genuinely thought if he let go for even one second the universe might change its mind.
Dr. Morgan went through follow-up schedules carefully.
Quarterly scans. Blood monitoring. Symptoms to watch for. Precautions with infections while Buck’s immune system continued rebuilding.
At that, Eddie straightened immediately.
“What kind of precautions?”
Buck closed his eyes briefly.
Here we go.
“Well,” the doctor said diplomatically, “common illnesses can still hit harder than usual for a while. Colds, flu, respiratory infections—”
As if summoned by the words, Buck’s expression crumpled suddenly.
“Hh…hih…”
“Oh no,” Eddie whispered.
Buck turned sharply into his elbow.
“AITCH! AITCH! AITCH! HAH-HA-HAITSHOO!”
The sneezing fit kept going relentlessly.
“HE’TCHOO! Hih…ITSCHOO! CHOO! CHOO!”
By the end Buck looked exhausted.
And miserable. And completely congested.
Eddie was already rubbing his back again.
“Bless you.”
Buck groaned thickly into a tissue before blowing his nose harshly.
The sound echoed embarrassingly loud in the quiet office.
“I hate everythig,” he muttered nasally.
Dr. Morgan hid a smile.
Eddie looked openly fond.
“You’re adorable.”
Buck stared at him.
“I sound like a diseased foghorn.”
“You sound alive.”
That shut Buck up instantly.
Eddie’s expression softened the second he realized what he’d said aloud.
For one terrible moment, the whole year hung between them again.
Alive.
Alive.
Buck swallowed hard then cleared his throat painfully.
“So,” he rasped, “maybe we take the kids out for ice creab to celebrate?”
Immediately he doubled over coughing.
Wet. Deep. Awful.
Eddie rubbed circles against his back until the coughing eased enough for Buck to breathe again.
Then Eddie handed him another tissue. Then another. Then his water bottle. Then adjusted the blanket around his shoulders again.
“No.”
Buck blinked.
“No?”
“We are absolutely not taking you out for ice cream.”
Buck deflated instantly.
“Eddie—”
“You have a fever.”
“A low grade fever.”
“You almost passed out standing up earlier.”
“I was dramatic for effect.”
“You sneezed so hard in the parking garage you scared a woman.”
“She was already startled.”
Dr. Morgan was openly amused now.
Eddie ignored her entirely.
“We came today because you insisted and because I was desperate for the results,” Eddie continued firmly. “But now we are going home and putting you directly into bed.”
Buck slumped deeper into the chair.
“You’re bead.”
“I’m right.”
Buck sniffled pitifully.
“Hih…hh…heh…HE’TCHIIEW!”
Eddie instantly offered another tissue.
Buck accepted it with the air of a deeply persecuted man.
After blowing his nose loudly again, he muttered, “The kids are gonna wabt to celebrate.”
Eddie’s expression softened.
That was the thing.
Even now, Buck’s first instinct was everybody else. Always everybody else.
Eddie brushed his fingers through Buck’s hair carefully.
“We’ll celebrate at home.”
Buck looked skeptical.
Eddie smiled a little.
“We’ll stop and get four giant tubs of Ben and Jerry’s.”
Buck perked up slightly.
“Chocolate Fudge Browdie?”
“Obviously.”
“Phish Food?”
“For Chris.”
“Half Baked?”
“Theo already requested it.”
Buck smiled weakly.
“And you?”
Eddie snorted.
“Cherry Garcia.”
“Old ban ice creab.”
“You married me anyway.”
Buck leaned into him automatically.
“True.”
Eddie kissed his temple gently.
“And we’ll order pizza for me and the boys.”
Buck narrowed his watery eyes.
“Add be?”
“You get soup.”
Buck looked horrified.
“Eddie.”
“You’re sick.”
“I’b cadcer free.”
“You’re still sick.”
“I deserve bizza.”
“You deserve to breathe through your nose again.”
Buck opened his mouth to argue—
Then froze.
“Hh…”
Eddie sighed knowingly and grabbed more tissues before the explosion even started.
“AITCHOO! AITCHOO! HAHHH-HE’TCHIEW! HE’ITCHOOO!”
Buck groaned miserably afterward.
“Ow.”
Eddie kissed his forehead.
“C’mon, baby. Let’s go home.”
And for the first time in a year—
Home didn’t feel temporary.
Christopher met them at the front door.
“Well?!”
Theo nearly crashed into Buck’s legs two seconds later.
“Did you win?”
Buck blinked.
“Win?”
“The cancer thing,” Theo explained seriously.
Eddie made a helpless noise somewhere behind him.
Buck looked down at the little boy, at the anxious hope written all over his tiny face, and felt something crack wide open in his chest.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said softly. “I won.”
Theo cheered loud enough to shake the walls.
Chris looked suspiciously emotional despite trying to act cool about it.
Then both boys launched themselves at Buck simultaneously.
Buck laughed.
Then immediately coughed.
Then sneezed directly into his shoulder.
“AITCHOO! Hih-ITSCHOO!”
“Bless you,” Chris said automatically.
“Thagk you.”
Eddie shut the door behind them and just stood there for a second.
Watching.
His family. Whole. Alive. Safe.
Buck caught him staring.
Their eyes met across the entryway.
Eddie looked like he might cry again.
Buck smiled softly at him.
Eddie crossed the room in three quick steps and kissed him hard enough to steal his breath.
“Dad,” Chris groaned.
Theo grinned.
“Ew.”
Buck laughed into the kiss anyway.
Then sneezed.
Right against Eddie’s shoulder.
“HAH-HA-HAITSHOO!”
Silence.
Buck blinked.
Slowly.
“…Sorry?”
Eddie burst out laughing.
Really laughing.
The kind Buck hadn’t heard in months.
And suddenly everyone else was laughing too.
Even Buck.
Even through the coughing.
Even through the cold.
Even through the exhaustion.
Because for the first time in a year—
There was finally room for joy again.