Work Text:
The station was quiet for once. That in itself should have been suspicious. Firehouse 118 rarely stayed quiet for long. Something always happened. An alarm, a call, Chim dropping something, Hen and Eddie debating something ridiculous while Bobby pretended not to hear it. But tonight the air had settled into that strange in-between calm.
The TV in the corner was on low, some late-night sports recap droning quietly in the background. The dishwasher hummed softly. Somewhere down the hall Chimney was laughing at something on his phone. Normal. Peaceful.
Evan Buckley sat at the kitchen table staring down at his phone. The screen glowed with a single notification.
Incoming call: Mom
His stomach twisted instantly. The reaction was automatic, muscle memory at this point. A tight, sick feeling curling in his gut before he'd even processed the words. He hadn't spoken to them in months. Not since the last attempt at pretending things were normal. Not since the last time he'd hung up feeling like the oxygen had been sucked out of his lungs.
Buck considered letting it go to voicemail. That would be smarter. Easier. Safer. His thumb hovered over the decline button. But some stupid hopeful part of him, some leftover piece of the kid who used to wait by the door for his parents to notice him, made his thumb pause. The part of him that had spent years trying to be better. Trying to be enough.
Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time they just wanted to check in. Maybe they'd seen him on the news and... Maybe they were proud.
The thought was almost laughable. Still. His thumb moved before he could stop himself. He pressed accept.
"Hello?" he answered.
There was a pause on the other end, long enough that Buck wondered if the call had dropped.
"Evan." His mother's voice came through the speaker, clipped and sharp. The way she said his name already told him everything he needed to know. Not Buck. Never Buck.
"Hi, Mom." he replied softly.
Another pause followed, heavy and uncomfortable. Buck could hear faint background noise. The muffled sound of a television. A chair scraping against the floor. He shifted in his seat.
"Is dad there too?" Buck asked cautiously.
"Oh, he's here." Her tone carried that same cold politeness Buck remembered from childhood. Like she was speaking to a stranger she tolerated rather than her own son.
Buck heard movement on the other end before his father's voice cut in.
"We saw the news." his father stated.
"What?" Buck blinked.
"The fire last week," his father continued. "You were on television again."
Buck felt his shoulders stiffen. Right. That call. Apartment building fire, six people trapped, Buck had been the one to climb out onto the collapsing balcony to pull them to safety. Apparently that had made the local news.Athena had sent the clip to the group chat with about ten fire emojis.
Hen had teased him about being a "local celebrity." Chim had insisted Buck sign a spatula like it was a fan autograph. Most people would have been proud. His parents weren't most people.
"You could have died," his mother said flatly.
Buck waited. He waited for the concern. For the worry. For something that sounded even remotely like fear for their son. Instead she sighed.
"When are you going to stop doing reckless things with your life?" his mother continued.
The words landed like a punch.
"It's my job." Buck swallowed slowly.
"It's a stupid job." his father added.
"It helps people." Buck looked down at the table. The wood grain blurred slightly as his eyes unfocused.
"You always say that." His father scoffed.
"Because it's true." Buck defended.
"Helping people would be going to medical school," his father said. "Becoming something stable. Something respectable."
"I'm a firefighter." Buck let out a quiet breath.
"Yes," his mother said. "We're aware."
The way she said it made it sound like an inconvenience. Buck rubbed his thumb along the edge of the table.
"It's not reckless," he said quietly. "It's a trained risk."
"You climbed onto a collapsing balcony," his father said sharply. "That doesn't sound like 'trained risk.' That sounds like poor judgment."
"They would have died." Buck's jaw tightened.
"People die," his mother replied coolly. "That's not your responsibility."
The words felt like ice water.
"I saved them." Buck leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Yes," his father said. "And someday you won't."
Silence fell for a moment. Buck could feel the familiar tension building in his chest. That tightening pressure. That creeping sense of dread that meant this conversation was heading somewhere bad. It always did.
"You know," his mother continued, her voice shifting into something softer, "Daniel would have done something meaningful with his life."
And there it was. Buck closed his eyes. Daniel. His older brother. The ghost that had followed Buck his entire life.
"He would have been a doctor by now," she said quietly.
"I'm glad you think so." Buck's grip tightened on the phone. His knuckles turned pale.
"He was always so focused," his father added. "Disciplined."
"He was a child." Buck stared at the floor.
"That's not the point." His father dismissed.
"It kind of is." Buck pushed back.
"It's just hard not to compare sometimes." His mother sighed again, like Buck was being difficult.
Buck let out a short breath. Of course it was. Of course it was hard not to compare him to the brother who had died before he could ever disappoint them.
"You always had so much potential," she added.
The words sounded almost kind. Almost. Buck knew what came next before she even said it.
"You just never lived up to it." she finally said.
There it was. The knife sliding neatly between his ribs. Buck stared at the floor. The station suddenly felt too quiet. Too empty.
"I'm doing my best," he said quietly.
"Your best has always been a little... disappointing." His father sighed.
Something cracked open inside Buck's chest.
"Good to know." He forced out a laugh. It sounded hollow even to his own ears.
"You take everything so personally," his mother said.
Because it was personal. It had always been personal.
"What exactly did you call to say?" Buck rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his palm down slowly.
Silence stretched across the line. Long enough that Buck thought maybe they were done.
"We just thought you should know." his father finally answered.
"Know what?" Buck questioned.
"That you're still making the same mistakes." his mother finished.
"I'm not making mistakes." Buck stared at the wall across the kitchen. The one with the crooked calendar Chim had put up. His heart was beating too fast.
"You always say that," his mother repeated. Her voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. Like she was stating something obvious.
"I have to go." Buck swallowed hard. His throat felt tight.
"You always run away from conversations like this," his father said.
"Goodnight." Buck's voice was tight when he answered.
"You should really think about your future, Evan–" His mothers voice was determined as he hung up before they could say anything else.
The silence that followed felt deafening. The dishwasher hummed. The TV murmured quietly. Somewhere Chimney laughed again. Normal life continued like Buck's chest didn't feel like it had been hollowed out.
Buck sat there for a long moment. His phone rested face-down on the table. His chest felt hollow. Like someone had scooped out the inside of him and left the shell behind. He stared at nothing. Tried to breathe. Tried to push the conversation away before it settled too deep.
"You good?" a voice asked.
Buck jumped slightly. He hadn't heard anyone approach.
Eddie Diaz stood in the doorway. One shoulder leaned against the frame, arms loosely crossed. Watching him.
"Yeah." Buck forced a smile.
"You sure?" Eddie raised an eyebrow.
"Just family stuff." Buck grabbed his phone quickly and locked the screen, shoving it into his pocket.
Eddie didn't move. His expression didn't change. But Buck could practically feel the scrutiny. Eddie had always been too observant. Too good at reading people.
"You look like you just got punched," Eddie said.
"I promise no one decked me in the kitchen." Buck huffed out a small laugh.
"That wasn't what I meant." Eddie continued bluntly.
"I'm gonna hit the gym." Buck stood up quickly, pushing his chair back with a quiet scrape.
"Buck–" Eddie didn't move from the doorway.
"I'm good, man," Buck said quickly. Too quickly. He grabbed a towel off the counter, slinging it over his shoulder like he had somewhere urgent to be.
"You know you don't have to do that." Eddie's gaze followed the movement.
Buck paused. "Do what?"
"Pretend everything's fine." Eddie continued.
Buck shrugged. "It is fine."
"Your definition of 'fine' is concerning." Eddie tilted his head slightly.
"Pretty sure you've seen worse." Buck forced another grin.
"That's not really a comforting comparison." Eddie added.
"Look, it was just a call from my parents." Buck rubbed the back of his neck. "Not exactly a new experience."
"That usually makes it worse, not better." Eddie's eyes softened slightly.
"Occupational hazard of having parents." Buck shrugged again, already backing toward the hallway.
"Buck." Eddie didn't laugh.
The way he said it, quiet but firm, made Buck stop for a second.
"You wanna talk about it?" Eddie stepped a little further into the kitchen.
"Nah." Buck held his gaze for half a second, then looked away.
"You sure?" Eddie pressed.
"Yeah." Buck concluded.
Eddie studied him carefully. Buck hated that look. The one that said Eddie knew he was lying but wasn't going to call him on it directly. Finally Eddie sighed.
"Okay." Eddie replied.
"Cool." Buck nodded quickly.
There was an awkward beat of silence.
"Gym." Buck jerked his head toward the hallway.
"Try not to break anything." Eddie stepped aside so he could pass.
"No promises." Buck smirked faintly.
He walked past Eddie toward the workout room. He could feel Eddie's eyes on his back the entire way down the hall. But Buck didn't stop. Didn't turn around. And he definitely didn't let himself think about the way his mother had said Daniel's name.
//////////
The rest of the shift passed in that strange, quiet blur that sometimes settled over the station when nothing major happened. A few minor calls. A lift assist. A smoke alarm triggered by someone burning toast. Nothing serious. Nothing dangerous. Nothing that required Buck to think too hard. Which was good. Because every time his mind went still for even a second, the conversation replayed. Your best has always been a little... disappointing.
Buck had spent most of the afternoon in motion. Gym. Cleaning equipment. Checking the truck. Re-checking the truck. Anything that kept his hands busy and his brain distracted. It worked. Mostly.
By the time the end of their shift rolled around, the sun had dipped low enough to cast long golden light through the windows of the station. The familiar routine of wrapping up had started. Gear being put away. Paperwork getting finished. Chim arguing with Hen about something on his phone.
Buck slipped into the locker room quietly. The space smelled faintly like detergent and smoke. His locker door creaked when he opened it. He started the familiar routine automatically. Boots off. Duty shirt folded. A personal hoodie pulled out and tossed over his shoulder. The normal end-of-shift rhythm.
Across the room another locker slammed shut. Buck glanced up just as Eddie stepped into view. He was pulling his station shirt over his head, tossing it into his locker before grabbing a gray t-shirt from the shelf.
"Thought you were gonna wear out the gym equipment today," Eddie said casually.
"I had energy." Buck shrugged, stuffing his gloves into his bag.
"You've had energy for six hours straight." Eddie chuckled.
"Better than sitting around." Buck zipped his bag halfway and leaned back against the locker.
"That's one way to look at it." Eddie pulled his shirt on, running a hand through his hair to fix it.
Buck didn't respond. He focused on lacing his sneakers instead. The locker room settled into a quiet that wasn't uncomfortable... but wasn't exactly relaxed either. Lockers clinked softly. Fabric rustled. Buck slung his duffel bag over his shoulder.
"Hey." Eddie shut his locker.
"Yeah?" Buck glanced over.
Eddie hesitated for half a second. Not long enough to make it weird, but long enough that Buck noticed.
"Chris has been asking about you." Eddie continued.
"Yeah?" Buck blinked.
"Yeah." Eddie leaned against the row of lockers, crossing his arms. "He's been practicing Mario Kart."
"That kid has been 'practicing' Mario Kart since he was eight." Buck huffed out a small laugh.
"He says he's finally good enough to beat you." Eddie smirked.
"Bold claim." Buck scoffed.
"That's what I said." Eddie nodded seriously.
"Smart man." Buck zipped his bag the rest of the way.
Eddie watched him for a moment.
"You should come over." He said a little more casually than the words actually were. "For dinner."
"You cooking?" Buck paused and raised an eyebrow.
"I cook." Eddie looked mildly offended.
"You heat things up." Buck shook his head.
"That still counts." Eddie defended.
"What's the menu?" Buck chuckled under his breath.
"Spaghetti." Eddie replied. "And Chris wants to run at least three rounds of Mario Kart."
"Okay that's fair." Buck countered before asking. "At least?"
"He said and I quote: 'Tell Buck he's not allowed to leave until I beat him.'" Eddie nodded.
"That kid has a lot of confidence." Buck laughed a little louder this time.
"He gets it from me." Eddie supplied.
"Sure." Buck snorted.
For a moment the tension that had been sitting in Buck's chest all day loosened just a little. Eddie noticed. Of course he did.
"So," Eddie continued, grabbing his jacket from the hook. "You in?"
Buck hesitated. It wasn't a long pause. Just a few seconds. But long enough for that familiar instinct to kick in. The one that told him to go home. Be alone. Shake off the day. Internalize everything like he always did. But then he thought about Chris. The kid's excited grin. The inevitable trash talking. And honestly? The idea of going back to an empty loft didn't sound great right now.
"Am I gonna be ambushed by homework questions again?" Buck shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.
"No promises." Eddie smirked.
"Last time I ended up explaining algebra for forty minutes." Buck deadpanned.
"You're very educational." Eddie defended.
"I'm a firefighter." Buck raised an eyebrow. "Not a teacher."
"Same thing." Eddie shrugged.
"Debatable." Buck rolled his eyes.
Eddie waited. Patient. Not pushing. Just... offering.
"Alright." Buck exhaled slowly.
"Alright?" Eddie's eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Yeah." Buck shrugged. "I can destroy a fourteen-year-old at Mario Kart after dinner."
"That confidence might come back to haunt you." Eddie smirked.
"Please," Buck said. "I've been training since the Wii era."
"Chris watched three strategy videos today." Eddie added.
"...He did what?" Buck blinked.
"Kid's serious." Eddie nodded gravely.
"Oh," Buck groaned. "I'm definitely coming now."
"Good." Eddie chuckled, grabbing his keys from the bench.
They started toward the locker room door together. Buck nudged it open with his shoulder.
"Just so we're clear," Buck said as they walked out into the hall, "if he beats me I'm blaming you."
"Absolutely not." Eddie shook his head.
"You raised him." Buck accused.
"He learned from the internet." Eddie defended.
"It's still gonna be your fault." Buck grumbled.
Eddie laughed quietly. And Buck realized something strange. For the first time since that phone call earlier... His chest didn't feel quite so tight.
//////////
The drive to Eddie's house was quiet in the comfortable way it usually was. Not the tense quiet from earlier. Just the kind that came from two people who didn't feel the need to fill every second with noise. The city lights had started flickering on as the sun disappeared behind the skyline. Traffic was lighter than usual, and Buck found himself staring out the passenger window while Eddie drove. Streetlights blurred past. Neon signs. The steady rhythm of tires on pavement.
For a little while, Buck just let himself exist in the moment without thinking too much. Eddie pulled into the familiar driveway about twenty minutes later. The porch light was already on. Chris must've turned it on when he heard the car. Buck barely had time to unbuckle before the front door swung open.
"BUCK!" Christopher Diaz practically launched himself out of the doorway.
"Whoa– " Buck laughed as he stepped out of the truck. "Hey, kid!"
"You're late." Chris stopped just short of tackling him, his crutches balanced easily under his arms.
"Late?" Buck placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "I just got here."
"I've been waiting all day." Chris narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"That sounds like poor planning." Buck teased.
"You told him you'd be here two minutes ago." Eddie walked up behind them, shaking his head.
"Two minutes is still waiting." Chris looked completely unapologetic.
Buck crouched slightly so he was more eye-level with him.
"Well," Buck said solemnly, "I'm here now."
"And you're about to lose." Chris grinned.
"...Wow." Buck blinked.
"Inside before the neighbors start thinking we're hosting a sporting event." Eddie pushed the door open wider.
The house smelled like garlic and tomato sauce the second they stepped inside. Buck inhaled deeply.
"Okay," he admitted. "That actually smells amazing."
"See?" Eddie shrugged as he headed toward the kitchen. "I cook."
"You doubted him." Chris pointed at Buck as he followed him in.
"I was wrong." Buck raised his hands. "I admit it."
Dinner was loud in the easy, chaotic way it always was when Buck was there. Chris talked almost nonstop. School stories. A new kid in his history class. Some ridiculous video he'd watched earlier about Mario Kart shortcuts. Buck listened, occasionally throwing in dramatic commentary while Eddie tried, and failed, to keep the conversation somewhat organized. At one point Chris paused mid-bite and squinted at Buck.
"You're being suspiciously nice," he said.
"Suspiciously?" Buck froze with a fork halfway to his mouth.
"Yeah." Chris leaned forward slightly. "You usually talk more trash before Mario Kart."
"Oh," Buck slowly set his fork down. "You want trash talk?"
Chris grinned.
"This was a mistake." Eddie sighed.
Buck leaned his elbows on the table.
"Christopher Diaz," he said seriously, "you have no idea what kind of mistake you're about to make."
"Oh," Chris gasped dramatically. "It's on."
"Please don't break my television." Eddie rubbed his temples.
The living room quickly transformed into a Mario Kart battlefield. Chris sat on the floor in front of the TV, the controller gripped tightly in both hands. Buck sprawled across one end of the couch. Eddie sat in the armchair with the expression of a man who knew he had made a terrible decision.
"Three rounds," Eddie reminded them.
"Five." Chris shook his head immediately.
"Three." Eddie was stern.
"Five." Chris continued to debate.
"I support five." Buck raised his hand.
"Of course you do." Eddie gave him a look.
The first race started. Chris was intensely focused. Buck, meanwhile, was talking nonstop.
"Oh wow, look at that," Eddie commented. "Buck in first place already."
"It's been ten seconds!" Chris complained.
"Dominance is dominance." Buck teased.
Chris immediately hit him with a red shell.
"Betrayal." Buck gasped.
"That's the game!" Chris exclaimed.
By the third race the room was filled with laughter. Chris had his tongue sticking out in concentration. Buck was dramatically narrating every turn. Eddie occasionally chimed in just to mess with both of them.
"You missed the shortcut," Eddie said calmly at one point.
"There was a shortcut?" Buck whipped his head around.
"THANKS, DAD." Chris zoomed past him on the screen.
"That was sabotage." Buck groaned.
By the fourth race Chris had actually beaten Buck twice. He threw both arms in the air in victory.
"I told you I've been practicing!" Chris exclaimed.
"This is unacceptable." Buck stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed him.
"Sounds like someone's losing their edge." Eddie smirked.
"Impossible." Buck scoffed.
But by the fifth race Chris's energy was starting to fade. His movements got slower. His controller drifted slightly as his shoulders slumped. He still finished the race. But by the time the victory screen appeared, he was rubbing his eyes. Buck noticed immediately.
"Hey." Buck said softly.
"What?" Chris blinked sleepily.
"Are you crashing over there?" Buck asked.
"I'm fine." Chris shook his head stubbornly.
A yawn interrupted him.
"Sure you are." Buck smiled softly.
"Alright, buddy." Eddie stood.
"Nooo." Chris groaned.
"You're falling asleep sitting up." Eddie pointed out.
"I'm not–" Another yawn.
"Pretty sure that counts as evidence." Buck chuckled.
"Rematch tomorrow." Chris reluctantly handed the controller to Eddie.
"Tomorrow." Buck nodded seriously.
Eddie held out a hand. Chris grabbed his crutch and stood, leaning into his dad slightly.
"Night Buck," he mumbled.
"Night kid." Buck nodded.
Eddie gave Buck a small nod before guiding Chris down the hallway toward his bedroom. Buck heard the quiet murmur of their voices fade as they disappeared around the corner. Then the house went quiet. The TV screen dimmed. The controller sat abandoned on the coffee table.
Buck leaned back into the couch. For a few minutes he just sat there. Listening to the soft hum of the house. The distant creak of a floorboard. A muffled laugh from Chris's room as Eddie probably said something ridiculous while tucking him in.
Buck stared at the blank TV screen. And just like that, the thoughts crept back in. His mother's voice. 'Your best has always been a little... disappointing.'
Buck exhaled slowly. He rubbed a hand over his face. Tonight had been good, really good. Chris laughing. Eddie's terrible shortcuts. Dinner that actually felt like a family meal. But that hollow feeling in his chest hadn't disappeared. It had just been quiet for a while. Now, sitting alone on Eddie's couch, it started creeping back in again. Buck leaned his head back against the cushion. Staring at the ceiling. Trying not to think too much. Trying, and failing, to ignore the way the words from earlier still echoed in his head.
Buck was still staring at the ceiling when he heard quiet footsteps coming back down the hallway. The soft creak of the floorboards pulled him out of the spiral of thoughts just enough for him to blink and refocus.
Eddie appeared a moment later, pausing at the entrance to the living room. He studied Buck for a second. Buck hadn't moved from the couch. One arm was thrown over the backrest, the other resting loosely over his stomach. His gaze was distant, like he hadn't really been seeing the ceiling at all.
"Hey." Eddie's voice rang out.
"Oh," Buck blinked and turned his head. "Hey."
"Chris is out." Eddie leaned against the wall, arms loosely crossed.
"Yeah, I figured." Buck smiled faintly. 'Kid was fighting sleep like it was a personal enemy."
"He insisted he wasn't tired." Eddie huffed out a quiet laugh.
"Of course he did." Buck pushed himself upright, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
"You okay?" Eddie tilted his head slightly.
The question was simple. Careful.
"Yeah." Buck answered immediately. Too soon.
Eddie didn't say anything to challenge it. He just watched Buck for another second.
"Oh–" Buck cleared his throat and glanced toward the TV, then toward the kitchen, like he'd suddenly remembered something. "Uh."
He leaned forward, grabbing his phone off the coffee table. The screen lit up when he tapped it.
"Wow." His eyebrows lifted slightly.
"What?" Eddie followed his gaze toward the phone.
"Didn't realize it got that late." Buck turned the screen toward him briefly. The clock read 12:47 AM.
"...Huh." Eddie blinked.
"I should probably get going." Buck stood, stretching his arms over his head before grabbing his duffel bag from beside the couch.
"Buck." Eddie straightened a little.
"It's not a bad drive this late." Buck slung the strap of the bag over his shoulder.
"It's almost one in the morning." Eddie frowned slightly.
"I've driven later." Buck shrugged.
"Yeah," Eddie said, pushing off the wall. "After twenty-four hour shifts. Not after dinner and five rounds of Mario Kart."
"Four rounds." Buck smirked faintly. "Chris passed out before the fifth."
"Technicality." Eddie huffed.
"I'll be fine." Buck adjusted the bag on his shoulder.
"You don't have to leave." Eddie hesitated for half a second before shaking his head.
"It's fine." Buck paused.
"No," Eddie said, a little more firmly this time. "It's late. Just crash here tonight."
"I don't want to take up space." Buck glanced toward the couch.
"Buck." Eddie followed his gaze and then immediately waved the concern off.
Buck looked back at him.
"It's a couch," Eddie said. "It's not sacred ground."
"Still." Buck chuckled softly.
"You've slept on worse." Eddie walked a few steps closer into the living room.
"...That's not a high bar." Buck chuckled.
"You'll survive." Eddie shrugged.
"I just don't want to kick you out of your own living room." Buck shifted his weight slightly. "I'm sure you have plans to stay up and watch some television or something before going to bed."
"You're not kicking me out."
"You'll end up sitting in the chair or something." Buck gestured vaguely toward the couch.
"Buck." Eddie stared at him for a moment like he was overthinking something extremely simple.
"Yeah?" Buck tilted his head.
"You don't have to sleep on the couch." Eddie explained.
"...Where else would I sleep?" Buck blinked.
"You can sleep in my bed." Eddie answered without thinking. "With me."
The words landed in the room before Eddie seemed to fully process them.
There was a brief pause. Buck's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"I mean–" Eddie blinked once, then twice. He cleared his throat and immediately tried to brush it off, his voice suddenly casual, almost too casual. "it's a big bed."
Buck stared at him for a second.
"Plenty of space." Eddie shrugged like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Buck still hadn't said anything.
"It's not a big deal." Eddie kept going, filling the silence quickly. "We've crashed after shifts before, remember? Same idea."
Which was... technically true. Just usually not in the same bed. But Eddie had already committed to the bit.
"So yeah," Eddie finished, waving a hand dismissively. "You can take the other side."
Buck studied him for another second. Trying to decide if Eddie was joking. Eddie's expression was carefully neutral. Almost aggressively nonchalant. Like this wasn't even slightly weird.
"Okay." Buck let out a quiet breath.
"Okay." Eddie nodded immediately.
Another beat of silence passed. Neither of them addressed the obvious thing sitting awkwardly between them.
"C'mon." Eddie jerked his head toward the hallway.
Buck grabbed his duffel bag and followed him.
The house was quiet now. Chris's door was closed, the hallway dimly lit by a small lamp near the kitchen. Their footsteps were soft against the floor as they walked. Neither of them spoke. Eddie pushed open the door to his bedroom and stepped inside.
Buck followed a second later. The room was simple and familiar. Bed against the wall. Nightstand. A small dresser across from it. Eddie walked over and grabbed an extra pillow, tossing it onto one side of the bed.
"There," he said casually.
"...Thanks." Buck set his bag down near the wall.
"Don't mention it." Eddie grabbed a spare t-shirt from his dresser and tossed it toward Buck. "Here."
Buck caught it automatically.
"For sleeping," Eddie added.
"Thanks." Buck glanced down at the shirt, then back at Eddie.
"No problem." Eddie shrugged.
Another quiet moment passed. Neither of them acknowledged the slightly strange situation they'd just walked into. They simply moved around the room, getting ready for bed like it was completely normal, like there wasn't a giant unspoken elephant sitting in the middle of the room.
Buck stood there for a second after Eddie tossed him the t-shirt, turning the soft gray fabric over in his hands. It smelled faintly like laundry detergent and a little like Eddie. Not that Buck lingered on that thought.
Eddie had already moved on, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and tugging his belt loose as he headed toward the bathroom door.
"Bathroom's open if you want to change," Eddie said over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know where it is." Buck gave a small nod. He'd been here enough times over the years. In fact, he practically lived here more than his own place. Movie nights, game nights, helping Chris with homework, late dinners after shifts, etc. The layout of the house was practically muscle memory at this point.
Eddie disappeared down the hall.
Buck let out a slow breath once the room was quiet again.For a moment he just stood there, holding the shirt. This was... normal. Totally normal. Friends crashed at each other's places all the time. Sometimes in the same bed. Probably. It wasn't weird. Except it kind of was.
Buck scrubbed a hand over his face and shook the thought off. He grabbed his bag and stepped into the hallway, slipping into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged wearing the borrowed t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts from his duffel. The house was dark now, most of the lights turned off.
Eddie's bedroom door was half open. Buck pushed it open the rest of the way. Eddie was already in bed. He was sitting against the headboard, scrolling through his phone, wearing dark sweatpants and an old LAFD t-shirt.
He glanced up when Buck walked in.
"You find everything okay?" His voice was soft.
"Yeah." Buck nodded.
He stepped into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. Eddie set his phone down on the nightstand. Buck walked over to the empty side of the bed and hesitated for a fraction of a second before pulling back the blanket. The mattress dipped slightly as he climbed in.
For a brief moment they were both sitting there, adjusting pillows and blankets. Neither of them quite looked at the other. Then Buck shifted onto his side, turning toward the edge of the bed. Eddie clicked off the lamp. The room fell into soft darkness. Only the faint glow of the streetlight filtered through the window.
Eddie settled onto his side too, instinctively turning the opposite direction. Their backs faced each other. There was still a decent amount of space between them. The quiet settled over the room.
Buck stared at the wall. His mind was still a little restless from the day, but the exhaustion from the shift, and from everything else, was starting to catch up with him.
Behind him he could hear Eddie shifting slightly as he got comfortable. The rustle of blankets. The quiet sound of a deep breath.
"You good?" Eddie spoke softly into the dark after a moment.
"...Yeah." Buck blinked.
Another small pause.
"Thanks for dinner," Buck added.
"Anytime." Eddie's voice was already a little sleepier.
The room went quiet again. Outside, a car passed somewhere down the street. The faint hum of the city filtered through the window. Buck's eyes slowly started to drift closed. For the first time since that phone call earlier... His chest didn't feel quite as tight. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that Chris had nearly beaten him at Mario Kart. Or maybe it was just the quiet presence of someone else in the room. Either way, the tension slowly drained out of his shoulders.
Behind him, Eddie's breathing had already evened out. Steady. Slow. Buck focused on that sound for a moment. Then the thoughts in his head finally started to quiet. And somewhere between one breath and the next... He fell asleep.
//////////
Buck was standing in a hallway. He recognized it immediately. His childhood home. Everything looked exactly the same as it had when he was a kid. The pale walls. The narrow carpet runner. The framed photos lining the hallway Except something felt... wrong. Too quiet. Too still.
Buck looked down at himself. He was younger. Seventeen, maybe. Wearing the same hoodie he used to wear in high school. The house was silent. Then voices drifted from the kitchen. His parents. Buck felt that familiar instinct twist in his chest. The one that told him to stay hidden. But his feet moved anyway. Slowly. Carefully.
He stepped toward the kitchen. The doorway was half open. Inside, his parents sat at the table. Just like earlier. Just like the phone call. His father leaned back in his chair. His mother sat stiffly, hands folded in front of her. They didn't look up when Buck stepped into the room. It was like he wasn't there. Like he was invisible.
"I just don't understand how he turned out like this." His father sighed.
Buck froze.
"He always had potential." His mother's voice followed.
The words sounded familiar, too familiar.
"I'm right here." Buck stepped forward.
Neither of them reacted.
"All that potential." His father shook his head. "Completely wasted."
"I didn't waste anything." Buck swallowed.
Still nothing. They kept talking like he wasn't standing three feet away.
"He never had Daniel's focus." His mother's expression was tight and disappointed.
Buck's stomach dropped. The room felt colder suddenly.
"He never had Daniel's discipline," his father added.
"I'm not Daniel." Buck shook his head.
No response. Just more quiet conversation over his head.
"We tried so hard." His mother sighed.
Buck felt something twist painfully in his chest.
"We did." His father leaned forward slightly. "But he was always so... impulsive."
"I save people." Buck clenched his fists as his voice echoed strangely in the room. But still, they didn't hear him.
"Daniel would have been a doctor by now," his mother said softly.
Buck's throat tightened.
"Daniel had purpose." His father's voice cut through the air.
The words felt sharp. Heavy.
"I have a purpose." Buck stepped closer to the table. Still nothing.
"Evan never understood responsibility." His mother shook her head slowly.
"That's not true." Buck felt his breathing start to speed up.
"We gave him every opportunity." His father rubbed a hand over his face.
Buck's chest felt tight now.
"I know." his mothers voice echoed.
"But he wasted it." his father shook his head.
"I didn't." Buck's voice came out louder and desperate this time. Still they didn't look at him.
"You know what the real problem is?" His mother leaned back slightly in her chair.
"What?" Buck felt his stomach twist, but she wasn't talking to him. She was talking to his father.
"He was never supposed to be the one who stayed." she admitted.
Buck's entire body went still as the room began to feel smaller, the air heavier.
"He was just supposed to help Daniel." His father nodded slowly.
"No." Buck shook his head as his voice came out small.
"A third child wasn't part of the plan." His mother continued like she hadn't heard him.
"You're wrong." Buck's breathing was getting shallow now.
"He was supposed to save Daniel." his father said again.
Buck's chest hurt.
"But he couldn't even do that." his mother finished.
The words slammed into him.
"I was a kid." Buck protested. Still, they didn't hear him.
"He failed before he even started." His father's voice was quiet.
"I didn't fail." Buck's hands started shaking.
"You were never meant to be our son." His mother finally looked up. And for the first time, her eyes landed on him. Cold and detached, like he was something she barely recognized.
Buck felt like the floor had disappeared beneath him.
"You were meant to be the cure." Her voice echoed. "You were meant to fix him."
"I tried." Buck shook his head frantically.
"But you couldn't." His father's voice came from somewhere behind him now.
Buck turned and his parents were suddenly standing closer, too close.
"You couldn't save him." they said in unison.
"I was a kid." Buck backed up a step.
"You couldn't live up to your potential." his mother cried.
"I tried!" Buck defended.
"You couldn't be Daniel." His fathers voice broke.
"I'm not supposed to be Daniel!" Buck yelled back.
"That's the problem." His mother's voice was sharp.
The walls of the house seemed to stretch taller around him, the hallway growing longer and darker.
"You were never the son we wanted." they said again in unison.
Buck's heart was racing now, his chest tight.
"We wanted him." The words echoed louder. "We wanted Daniel."
"You were just the replacement." The house seemed to close in around him.
"I'm not a replacement." Buck stumbled back.
"Then why are you still disappointing us?" His father's voice boomed now.
"I'm not–" Buck's breathing was ragged.
"You're reckless." His parents said in unison again.
"I help people!" Buck couldn't control his breathing.
"You're selfish." They continued.
"That's not true!" Buck exclaimed.
"You're wasting your life." They shrieked.
"I save people!" Buck shook his head violently.
"You'll never be enough." His mother stepped closer as her voice dropped to a whisper.
The words echoed. Louder. And louder.
"You'll never be enough."
"You'll never be enough."
"You'll never be enough."
Buck tried to speak but the air wouldn't come. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself and the house was closing around him as the walls were pressing in.
"You're a failure and a disappointment." The voices were getting louder. "You'll never live up to your potential."
"I'm trying!" Buck's heart slammed against his ribs, but the voices didn't stop and the house kept closing in. Until suddenly... Everything went dark.
//////////
Buck's body jerked violently against the mattress. A sharp, strangled sound tore out of his throat before he was even fully awake. The dream shattered all at once and he bolted upright in bed as the air rushed into his lungs in short, frantic bursts. For a moment, the room didn't make sense. Dark walls, strange ceilings, etc. Not his loft.
Buck dragged in another shaky breath, but it didn't feel like enough. His chest felt tight, too tight, like someone had wrapped iron bands around his ribs. His heart was hammering so hard it almost hurt and sweat clung cold against his skin.
'You'll never be enough.'
The words echoed in his head.
Buck pressed a hand against his sternum as if he could physically force his lungs to work. Another breath. Still not enough. The panic came fast, sharp and overwhelming. His hands started shaking as he dragged them through his hair, trying to ground himself, but the air still wouldn't come right.
Behind him, the mattress shifted.
"Buck...?" Eddie stirred, his voice thick with sleep.
Buck didn't answer. Another rough breath ripped out of him.
Eddie's eyes opened slowly in the darkness. At first, he just saw Buck sitting upright beside him, then he heard the breathing. Fast, uneven, and panicked.
"Buck?" Eddie pushed himself up onto one elbow.
Buck's shoulders were shaking now. His breaths were short and shallow, almost gasping.
"Hey." Eddie sat up fully, the sleepiness vanishing instantly.
Buck didn't respond. His hands were gripping the sheets like he was trying to hold onto something.
"Buck." Eddie reached out and touched his shoulder.
Buck flinched like the contact shocked him.
"Hey, hey–" Eddie immediately pulled his hand back slightly. "it's okay."
"I–" Buck's head dropped forward as he dragged in another breath that hitched halfway through.
The word broke apart before he could finish it.
Eddie's stomach twisted. Panic attack. He'd seen them before. He'd been through them before. He just hadn't expected Buck to be the one having one.
"Okay," Eddie said softly, shifting closer. "Alright. I'm here."
"I–" Buck's hands were shaking harder now and his breathing was getting worse. "can't–"
The words came out fractured.
"Look at me." Eddie slid off the pillow so he was sitting in front of Buck.
Buck's eyes were wide and unfocused.
"Buck," Eddie said again, a little firmer. "Look at me."
Buck's gaze flickered toward him for half a second before darting away again.
"Hey." Eddie reached forward carefully and placed a steady hand on Buck's arm. "You're okay."
"No–" Buck shook his head as his breathing hitched again. "No–"
"Yeah," Eddie said calmly. "You are."
Buck tried to breathe in deeper but it didn't work and his chest felt like it was collapsing inward.
"Okay." Eddie shifted closer, lowering his voice. "Listen to me."
Buck's hands were gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles had turned pale.
"Breathe with me," Eddie said.
"I can't–" Buck shook his head again, panic flashing across his face.
"Yes you can. Just follow me." Eddie inhaled slowly as he exaggerated the breath slightly. "In...."
Buck tried, but the air hitched halfway.
"Out." Eddie continued
Buck's breath came out uneven and sharp. Still too fast and spiraling.
"Again." Eddie kept his voice steady.
But Buck's breathing kept getting worse. Faster. Shallower.
"I can't–" His shoulders were trembling now.
"You can," Eddie insisted gently.
But Buck's gaze had gone distant again and his chest rose and fell in quick, frantic bursts.
Eddie's mind raced. Think. Grounding. Something to break the spiral.
"Buck, listen to my voice." He said.
No response. Buck's breathing turned ragged.
"Buck." Eddie tried again. Nothing.
The panic had swallowed him whole. Eddie's heart pounded as he tried to figure out what to do next. Then, without really thinking... He leaned forward. And kissed him. It wasn't planned. It wasn't calculated. Just instinct.
His hand came up to steady Buck's jaw as his lips pressed briefly against Buck's. For a second Buck froze, completely still. The panic shattered just enough for confusion to cut through it. When Eddie pulled back a few inches, Buck was staring at him. Wide-eyed. Breathing still uneven, but slower.
"Hey." Eddie kept his hand gently against Buck's cheek.
Buck blinked as the room slowly started coming back into focus. Eddie's face. Right in front of him. Close. Real.
"Stay with me," Eddie said quietly.
Buck dragged in another breath. It was shaky, but it actually filled his lungs this time. Eddie didn't move.
"Good," he murmured.
Buck's eyes were still locked on his. Another breath. Still uneven. But slower.
"Yeah." Eddie kept his voice soft. "Like that."
Buck swallowed. His heart was still racing, but the suffocating panic had cracked open just enough to let air in again. Eddie's thumb brushed lightly against his cheek without him realizing it.
"Focus on me," Eddie said gently.
Buck did. And little by little, his breathing began to steady. Buck's breathing was still uneven, but it wasn't the frantic, suffocating gasps from a moment ago. Now it came in shaky pulls of air. In. Out. In. Out. Each one a little deeper than the last.
Eddie didn't move. His hand was still lightly cupping Buck's cheek, like he was afraid that if he pulled away too quickly the panic might come rushing back.
"Good," Eddie murmured quietly. "Just like that."
Buck swallowed hard. His chest still hurt from how fast his heart had been racing, but the crushing pressure was starting to loosen. Another breath. This one steadier. His eyes stayed locked on Eddie's, like if he looked away he might lose the thread that was keeping him grounded.
Eddie held his gaze for another second. Then two. Then the reality of what he'd just done seemed to catch up with him. His hand slowly dropped from Buck's face. Eddie leaned back a little, creating a few inches of space between them.
Buck blinked. The silence that followed felt... different now.
He could hear the quiet hum of the house again. The faint sound of a car passing somewhere outside. His breathing finally slowed enough that he didn't feel like he was drowning. But his brain had started catching up too. And suddenly... He was very aware of the fact that Eddie had just kissed him. Buck sat there, wide-eyed. Still a little breathless. Still trying to piece together what had just happened.
Eddie looked anywhere except directly at him. The wall. The floor. The blanket. His hand rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. For a few long seconds neither of them spoke.
"...Why did you kiss me?" Buck finally found his voice first.
His voice came out rough from the panic. Quiet.
"It was... " Eddie exhaled slowly through his nose, still not quite meeting Buck's eyes. "An impulse decision."
"...Impulse." Buck blinked again.
"Yeah." Eddie nodded slightly. Another small pause.
Buck shifted slightly against the headboard, still trying to steady the last remnants of his breathing. Eddie glanced at him briefly before looking away again.
"You were spiraling," Eddie added. "Nothing else was working."
"So your solution was..." Buck frowned faintly as he gestured vaguely between them. "...that?"
"I needed something that would snap your focus." Eddie huffed out a quiet breath.
"And kissing me did that?" Buck stared at him.
"Yeah." Eddie finally looked back at him, his expression calm. Matter-of-fact.
"...It kind of did." Buck hesitated.
"See." Eddie gave a small shrug.
"You could've like..." Buck blinked again. His brain still felt a little foggy from the panic attack, but the realization kept circling back. "Splashed water on me or something."
"It was dark," Eddie said simply.
"That's your explanation?" Buck squinted at him.
"It worked, didn't it?" Eddie rubbed the back of his neck again.
Buck opened his mouth. Closed it again. Technically... It had. His breathing was steady now, his chest had stopped hurting, and he wasn't spiraling anymore.
"...Yeah." Buck let out a slow breath.
Silence settled between them again, different now, heavier.
Buck shifted slightly on the bed, leaning back against the headboard again. His heart was still beating faster than normal, but the panic had faded. Now what remained was something else entirely. Eddie was sitting beside him, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it had personally offended him.
"...Thanks." Buck studied him for a moment.
"For what?" Eddie glanced over.
"For stopping the panic attack." Buck shrugged slightly.
"Yeah." Eddie nodded once.
Another quiet pause filled the room.
Buck rubbed a hand over his face. The dream still clung to the edges of his mind. His parents' voices. The words they'd said. But the weight of it had faded slightly. Probably because Eddie had dragged him out of the spiral. Buck glanced over again and Eddie was still looking anywhere but directly at him.
"...You know," Buck said slowly, "that's a pretty unconventional panic attack solution."
"Noted." Eddie snorted quietly.
Buck huffed out a faint breath that might've been the ghost of a laugh.
And for a moment, they just sat there, both very aware of the space between them. And the thing is neither of them quite knew how to address yet.
For a few moments the room stayed quiet again. Buck's breathing had finally evened out, though his chest still felt tight in that lingering way panic sometimes left behind. Eddie shifted slightly beside him. Not moving away, just adjusting so he could see Buck better in the dim light.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah." Buck let out a slow breath.
Eddie gave him a look. The same one he'd given him earlier at the station. The one that said I know that's not the whole truth.
"...Mostly." Buck rubbed the back of his neck.
"What happened?" Eddie nodded once, accepting that answer for now.
Buck stared down at the blanket gathered around his legs. For a moment he considered brushing it off. Saying it was just a random nightmare. But the dream still clung to him. His parents' voices still echoed faintly in his head.
"...Nightmare." He sighed.
Eddie leaned back slightly against the headboard beside him.
"Yeah," he said gently. "I figured that part out."
Buck huffed a weak breath through his nose.
Eddie waited a moment before asking the next question.
"What was it about?" He asked softly.
Buck's jaw tightened slightly. He hesitated. For a second the old instinct flared up again. Don't talk about it. Don't make it real. Don't dump it on someone else. But Eddie had just dragged him out of a panic attack. And he was sitting here now like he had nowhere else he needed to be.
"...My parents." Buck exhaled slowly.
Eddie didn't react outwardly. But his posture shifted slightly. More attentive.
"They called earlier." Buck stared down at his hands.
"Today?" Eddie blinked.
"While we were at the station." Buck nodded.
A small pause.
"That's the 'family stuff' you mentioned?" Eddie asked carefully.
"Yeah." Buck gave a humorless half-laugh.
Eddie waited.
"They saw the news clip from that fire last week." Buck dragged a hand over his face.
"The apartment building?" Eddie frowned faintly.
Buck nodded again.
"The one where you climbed out onto the balcony?" Eddie continued.
"Yeah." Buck replied.
"And?" Eddie already didn't like where this was going.
"They weren't exactly... thrilled." Buck stared at the floor.
"Why?" Eddie's eyebrows pulled together slightly.
"They said it was reckless." Buck let out a breath.
"That's literally the job." Eddie scoffed quietly.
"Try explaining that to them." Buck shrugged weakly.
Eddie was quiet for a moment.
"They said Daniel would've done something meaningful with his life." Buck continued.
Eddie's jaw tightened. He knew about Daniel. Buck had mentioned him before. The older brother who had died. The brother Buck had been born to try to save.
"They said he would've been a doctor by now." Buck's voice got quieter.
Eddie looked over at him. Buck was still staring down at his hands.
"They said I had potential," Buck continued softly. Another pause, then he finished the sentence. "But I never lived up to it."
The words hung in the air. Eddie felt something twist painfully in his chest. Buck let out another shaky breath.
"I tried to brush it off," he admitted. "But it just... stuck."
"I kept hearing it all day." His voice wavered slightly.
Eddie didn't interrupt.
"In the dream they kept saying it over and over." Buck rubbed his hands together like he was trying to get rid of something. His voice cracked. "That I was a disappointment."
Eddie's chest tightened.
"That I failed." Buck swallowed hard. The words came out smaller now. "Even before Daniel died."
His eyes burned.
"And that I was never supposed to be their son." The first tear slipped down before he could stop it. Buck wiped it away quickly with the heel of his hand. But another one followed. Then another. "They said I was just the replacement."
His voice broke completely.
Eddie moved without thinking. He turned toward Buck and pulled him into his arms. Buck stiffened for half a second. Then he collapsed into the embrace. Like something inside him had finally given out. Eddie wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other coming up to cradle the back of his head. Buck's face pressed into Eddie's shoulder. His body shook as the tears came harder now.
Eddie didn't say anything. He just held him. His hand slid gently into Buck's curls, fingers moving slowly through them. The motion was instinctive. Soothing. Buck clutched weakly at the front of Eddie's shirt.
"I tried so hard," he choked out.
Eddie's heart ached.
"I know," he murmured quietly.
"They still look at me like I failed." Buck shook his head against his shoulder.
"You didn't fail." Eddie's hand kept moving through his hair. Slow. Steady.
"That's not what they think." Buck's breath hitched again.
"They're wrong." Eddie tightened his hold slightly.
Buck didn't argue. He just stayed there, tucked against Eddie's chest while the last of the tears worked their way out. The room was quiet again except for Buck's uneven breathing. Eddie kept running his fingers through his curls. Over and over. It was... intimate. Closer than either of them had ever really allowed themselves to be before. But neither of them pulled away. Neither of them seemed to mind.
Buck's breathing slowly evened out. The shaking in his shoulders faded first. Then the quiet hiccups that came after crying. Finally the tight grip he had on the front of Eddie's shirt loosened. But he didn't move away. He stayed tucked against Eddie's chest, his forehead resting near Eddie's collarbone.
Eddie didn't rush him. One arm remained wrapped securely around Buck's shoulders while his other hand kept moving slowly through Buck's curls. The motion was steady. Gentle. Fingers sliding through the soft strands, occasionally brushing lightly across his scalp.
Buck exhaled quietly. It had been a long time since anyone had held him like this. Maybe ever. And it was strange how... natural it felt. Like his body had decided it was safe here before his brain had time to question it.
The room stayed dim and quiet. The only sounds were the soft rustle of blankets and their breathing. After a few minutes, Buck's face wasn't buried quite as tightly against Eddie's shoulder. But he still hadn't pulled away.
Eddie didn't mind. His fingers kept absentmindedly threading through Buck's curls. Slow. Comforting.Eventually Eddie spoke. So quietly it was almost lost in the silence.
"I love you." The words were soft. Barely more than a mumble.
But Buck heard them. And his entire body stilled. For a second, he thought maybe he'd imagined it, but the words echoed clearly in his head.
"...What?" Buck pulled back just enough to look up. His eyes were still a little red from crying.
Eddie froze slightly, his hand paused in Buck's hair, but he didn't look away.
"You... can't possibly mean that." Buck studied his face.
His voice was rough, uncertain, like he genuinely couldn't believe it.
Eddie held his gaze, completely steady, then he said it again.
"I love you." This time louder and clearer.
"You–" Buck blinked. His brain struggled to catch up. He shook his head slightly. "No."
"No?" Eddie's eyebrows pulled together faintly.
"You don't just... say that." Buck gestured weakly between them.
"I just did." Eddie's voice stayed calm.
"That's not–" Buck stared at him. He struggled to find the words. "That's not something you say after a panic attack."
"Why not?" Eddie tilted his head slightly.
"Because," Buck said helplessly, "that's a big thing."
"Yeah." Eddie's expression softened.
"You don't mean it like that." Buck shook his head again.
"Buck." Eddie didn't break eye contact.
"You're just saying it because I was freaking out." Buck tried to rationalize.
"No." Eddie replied firmly.
"Then why?" Buck frowned.
"Because it's true." Eddie took a slow breath, then he leaned back slightly against the headboard, still keeping one arm around Buck's shoulders.
Buck's heart stuttered.
"You want to know why your parents are wrong?" Eddie continued before he could interrupt.
Buck didn't answer, but he didn't look away either.
"They're wrong because they think potential means one specific thing." Eddie's voice stayed steady. "Doctor. Lawyer. Whatever version of success they had in their heads."
Buck's brow furrowed faintly before looking down slightly.
"You ran into a collapsing building to save six people." Eddie gently nudged his chin up so their eyes met again. After a moment, Buck began to open his mouth to protest, but Eddie cut him off gently. "No. Let me finish."
Buck went quiet.
"You've pulled people out of burning cars. Out of wrecked buildings. Off the sides of cliffs." Eddie continued as his voice softened slightly. "You show up on the worst day of someone's life and somehow make it better."
Buck's throat tightened again.
"You've saved people who didn't even know your name." Eddie's hand returned to Buck's curls, brushing them back gently. "And you think that's not living up to your potential?"
"My parents don't see it that way." Buck swallowed hard.
"Then they're blind." Eddie's jaw tightened slightly.
Buck blinked.
"You're not reckless, Buck. You're brave." Eddie leaned forward a little.
"I screw things up all the time." Buck looked away again.
"Yeah," Eddie said simply. "Everyone does."
"You make it sound easy." Buck huffed quietly.
"It's not." Eddie's voice softened again. "But you still show up."
Buck glanced back at him.
"Every time, even after everything you've been through." Eddie continued as his hand brushed through Buck's curls again. "That's not failure."
Buck felt his chest tighten in a completely different way now.
"They wanted Daniel," Buck said quietly.
"I know." Eddie nodded slightly.
"They always did." Buck's voice dropped.
"Good thing you're not Daniel." Eddie studied him carefully.
Buck blinked.
"Because the world already lost one of him." Eddie's gaze stayed steady. "But it got you instead."
Buck's breath caught slightly.
"And I'm really damn glad it did." Eddie's voice softened again.
Buck stared at him, completely speechless.
"So yeah." Eddie gave a small shrug as his fingers brushed gently through Buck's curls again. "I love you."
And this time, Buck didn't immediately argue. Buck didn't say anything for a long moment. He just stared at Eddie. Trying to process everything that had just happened in the last ten minutes. The panic attack. The confession The way Eddie had said it so easily. So certainly.
Buck's heart was still beating faster than normal, but it wasn't panic anymore. It was something else entirely.
Eddie didn't rush him. He just kept one arm loosely around Buck's shoulders, his fingers still occasionally brushing through Buck's curls like it had become second nature.
"...You really mean that." Buck let out a quiet breath.
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." Eddie's answer came immediately.
"I love you too." Buck looked down at the blanket gathered around his lap. His hands twisted slightly in the fabric as he tried to organize the thoughts spinning through his head.
The words hung in the air between them.
Eddie stilled.
Buck glanced back up, a little nervous now that the words were out there.
"I just..." He hesitated. "I never thought you could be an option."
"An option?" Eddie's brow furrowed slightly.
"You're my best friend." Buck shrugged weakly.
"Yeah." Eddie nodded.
"You're Chris's dad." Buck continued.
"Still true." Eddie's head tilted.
"And we work together." Buck explained.
"Also true." Eddie nodded slowly.
"So I just... never let my brain go there." Buck gestured vaguely between them. "Plus, as of an hour ago I was under the impression that you were straight."
"Your brain's kind of slow sometimes." Eddie studied him for a moment, then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey." Buck huffed out a quiet laugh.
Eddie didn't give him time to argue further. He leaned forward and kissed him again. This one was different from the first. Not rushed. Not impulsive. Soft. Intentional.
Buck froze for only half a second before leaning into it. His hand came up automatically, gripping lightly at the front of Eddie's shirt again. The kiss deepened slowly. Carefully. Like they were both still figuring out what this was supposed to feel like.
Eddie's hand slid up to the back of Buck's neck, fingers tangling gently in the curls there. Buck shifted closer without even realizing it. The space between them disappeared. The kiss lingered, then grew warmer. Longer.
By the time they finally pulled back for air, Buck's forehead was resting lightly against Eddie's, both of them breathing a little heavier now.
"...Okay." Buck blinked slowly.
"Okay?" Eddie let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
"Yeah." Buck nodded slightly.
Another small pause passed while they both tried to regain their bearings.
"...It's three in the morning." Eddie glanced toward the clock on the nightstand.
"Oh." Buck followed his gaze.
"Maybe we should..." Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. He gestured vaguely toward the pillows and blankets that had been completely abandoned during the panic attack. "...go back to bed."
"And pretend none of that just happened?" Buck looked back at him.
"No." Eddie shook his head immediately. A faint smile appeared. "Just figure the rest out in the morning."
"Yeah." Buck considered that, then he nodded.
That actually sounded like a good plan. They shifted back down under the blankets, both settling onto their sides again. Only this time, the space between them was a lot smaller. And when Buck's hand ended up loosely resting against Eddie's arm... Neither of them moved it.
The room slowly settled back into quiet. The adrenaline from the panic attack had faded, leaving behind a heavy kind of exhaustion that settled deep in Buck's bones.
Eddie adjusted the blanket slightly, pulling it up over both of them before shifting onto his side. Buck mirrored the movement. They ended up facing each other this time. Only a few inches of space between them. For a moment neither of them spoke.
The streetlight outside cast a soft glow through the curtains, just enough that Buck could still see the outline of Eddie's face. His hair was slightly messy from sleep. And from Buck's fingers running through it earlier.
"...This is weird." Buck let out a small breath.
"Yeah." Eddie's mouth twitched slightly.
"Not bad, weird." Buck watched him for another second.
"Good."Eddie nodded once.
The quiet returned again.
Buck could feel the last remnants of the earlier panic fading further and further away. The nightmare felt distant now. Muted. Like something that had happened to someone else. And the voices from his parents, the ones that had been echoing in his head all day, were finally quiet.
Eddie shifted slightly, pulling the pillow closer under his head.
"You okay now?" he asked softly.
"Yeah." Buck nodded.
He meant it this time.
"Good." Eddie studied his face for a moment like he was double-checking, then he seemed satisfied.
Buck hesitated, then he shifted a little closer. Not dramatically. Just enough that their knees brushed lightly under the blanket.
Eddie didn't move away. If anything, he leaned into it slightly.
"Hey Eddie?" Buck let out a quiet breath.
"Yeah?" Eddie replied softly.
"Thanks." Buck looked at him in the dim light.
"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly.
"For... all of it." Buck shrugged a little.
"You don't have to thank me for that." Eddie's expression softened.
"Still gonna." Buck gave a faint smile.
"Go to sleep, Buck." Eddie huffed quietly.
"Yes, dad." Buck chuckled under his breath.
"Don't start." Eddie warned, the small moment of humor faded into comfortable silence.
Buck's eyes grew heavier. The exhaustion from the long shift, the emotional crash afterward, and the late hour finally catching up to him.
Across from him, Eddie's breathing was already starting to slow again. Steady. Calm.
Buck watched him for another few seconds, then he let his eyes close.
This time when sleep came, it came quietly. No voices. No collapsing walls. No echoes of disappointment. Just the quiet warmth of the blankets. The steady rhythm of someone breathing nearby. And the faint, reassuring feeling of Eddie's hand brushing lightly against his arm sometime in the dark before sleep fully took them both.
By morning... Everything would be different. But for now, they slept.