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It starts when he breaks up with Taylor. Or maybe it starts when Maddie leaves again, when Chim tells him over and over again that he's done with him. Maybe it even starts when Eddie was shot, when Buck's entire world crumbles in front of him for the thousandth time and he can't do anything except sit back and watch.
Taylor doesn't understand. She cries. She yells. She's hurt.
"But... I love you," she says and Buck recognizes something of himself in that. That desperation, the loneliness, the bone deep need to have someone see you, want you, know you, love you.
But that's everything he's always wanted and never from her. It's everything she told him that he shouldn't seek out from other people and now here she is, tears in her eyes, heart beating in her hands and doesn't understand why Buck has handed it back.
He doesn't either.
Taylor is the first person other than family to say she loves him. To say she wants him. And Buck is telling her to go, telling her he's sorry but he doesn't want her. What's wrong with him? Why can't he want the one person- the one person who's ever wanted him?
And then he realizes that she's the first person who isn't Maddie to say that to him. Maddie who promised she would never leave him again and isn't here.
Maddie who isn't talking to him. Maddie who has Chim, who has her daughter, both of whom are also gone and might not be coming back, who don't need Buck either. Who are actively getting further and further away from him and not returning his calls, his texts, his pleas for even just one word so that he knows they're okay.
But there's been nothing but silence.
When Taylor slams the door behind her, tears streaming down her face, a box of her belongings in her hand, Buck's left in the silence once more.
It's funny. When he was a kid he hated the silence. Maddie gone (always gone, Maddie's always going to leave him), his parents just shells of people who don't acknowledge him unless they're mad. Unless they're telling him how disappointed they are in him. How much they waste on him only for him to throw it away.
Then everything got loud. When he moved to LA it was like he never got silence. Living in a house with four other guys who couldn't seem to understand that he worked weird hours and needed sleep, the alarms at the station blaring, the 118 teasing him and laughing, poking and prodding. Then Maddie came back and life was full then, so full of noise and light.
But now Maddie's gone again.
And Buck is left standing alone in the silence.
When his phone buzzes from an unknown number Buck just watches it ring.
It's probably Maddie. It's most likely Maddie. But Maddie's mad at him, upset that he told Chimney where he thinks she is and he can't handle her being mad at him right now.
Chimney is ignoring him still, his silence so full of anger that he's stopped reaching out. He's slow; it takes him a little while to figure out when he's no longer welcome in places, when people don't want him around but when he figures it out he goes. And though Maddie is always happy to put him in the middle of things he's not about to make her choose between him and the father of her child.
He knows what her choice would be anyway. He doesn't need to hear her confirm it.
So he lets the phone ring.
He doesn't check the voicemail.
"Buck?" Hen asks, brow creased with worry, her voice soft and gentle in that way she has. It makes him want to break but he just smiles at her and tells her he's fine.
She's been talking to Chimney. She tries to update him but Buck just interrupts with some bullshit excuse about stocking the trucks and flees. Chimney doesn't want him to know. His little family is gone and the less he knows about them the better.
Maybe if he doesn't know anything about them it'll hurt less.
He didn't know anything about Maddie for three years, sending postcards to the hospital where she worked to avoid Doug getting his hands on them and destroying them but always moving before she could send anything back. Three years of not speaking, not knowing, of missing his big sister so much his teeth ached and trying not to think about how he never changed his number and still his phone never rang.
"Buck?" Bobby has plenty to say about this he's sure, which is why Buck is so careful to keep his mask in place around him.
He's fine. He's working a lot, trying to keep himself busy.
He tries to bring up a transfer again- privately this time, to only Bobby but he can practically see the way it makes Bobby's concern ratchet up to an eleven and he nearly folds.
"Buck... if you really want to leave I won't stop you," Bobby says, something close to hurt shining in his eyes. But that's foolish.
This isn't a family, Bobby had said to him once. He's trying to remember that, trying to breathe through the fire in his lungs and the hole in his chest he's finally starting to realize will always be there, will never be filled.
"I think it'll be for the best," Buck says. He ignores the way his voice cracks. "If Chim comes back then... it'll be best for everyone if I'm not here."
In every situation, every scenario he's seen, dreamed about, feared, he knows how it goes. Chimney is coming back, everyone is so sure about that and he believes them. But he doesn't want to talk to Buck, see him, think about him. He can't make the 118 choose between him and Chimney any more than he can do that to Maddie.
And like with Maddie, he knows what their choice would be.
Chim's been here longer. He knows more, has more experience. He's the heart of this place, of course Buck needs to be the one to leave. He has to stop putting himself in the middle of things, trying to fix whatever he thinks is broken because he just makes everything worse. Chimney won't talk to him. Maddie is gone.
Buck is alone.
As he should be.
"Can we... hold off?" Bobby asks carefully, eyes boring holes in Buck's head. "Let's wait until he comes back and see-?"
Maybe Bobby is hurting a little bit. Maybe he thinks Buck is leaving because of him, of his ability to lead and Buck can't have him thinking that. Bobby has enough issues on his plate right now and here Buck is, adding to them like always.
"Sure," he manages, eyes falling to the floor. He doesn't want to wait. He wants to rip the band-aid off and leave now, before anyone knows and foolishly tries to stop him again.
Half-hearted attempts to make him feel better, fake promises that everything will be back to normal when Buck knows that isn't- can't be true. Chimney belongs here. He belongs with his family, with the station he's been at since he graduated the academy. Buck is young, he's got some experience under his belt now. And it's his fault Chim left in the first place so he should be the one to leave.
"I'm- I've got some interviews," Buck tells Bobby. "At other stations. I'm going to... I'll talk to them. Find a good fit for me. A better fit."
One where he won't mistake politeness for caring. Where he knows his place. Where he won't get so attached to people who don't want him.
This isn't a family.
That had been his mistake- trying to find a family in a workplace environment. Thinking he deserved a family in the first place.
His actual blood family doesn't want him. Maddie never stays. His parents don't love him- hell they don't even like him. He's just...
Just...
a reminder staring us in the face every day-!
His number's never changed and they've never called. He lived in LA for years and they only came to visit once Maddie moved and stayed. It's Maddie they care for, Maddie they want.
And it's Chimney the 118 wants back.
"Okay," Bobby says. "Buck if you need to talk to someone-"
"I'm good Cap."
He's a bad liar. But that one? He can tell that lie with his eyes closed. Everyone always buys it.
He leaves Bobby's office quietly. Doesn't meet Eddie's questioning gaze. He stays in the bunk room until the alarm blares.
He misses another call from Unknown.
He sends it to voicemail.
He can't keep doing this. Can't keep letting people who are going to leave back into his life and wondering when they're going to go this time. Because there is no if about it. Maddie never stays. She leaves every time, runs the second she can and if Chimney can bring her back, can convince her to stay...
Well. There's no room for Buck in her new family. The family she wants. The family she needs.
She left them too, he knows. But Buck is tired.
He's so tired.
When his pone rings again he turns it off, pulls the blankets over his head, and sleeps.
"What are your plans for Christmas?" Eddie asks him. He's sitting beside Buck at the table, stealing glances at Buck's still-full plate like he wants his helping of mashed potatoes.
Buck's not all that hungry. He pushes the plate in Eddie's direction.
"I took Martinez's shift," Buck says without looking at him.
He knows what Eddie's doing.
Poor Buck. His family is gone. His family left him again. He's single again.
A pity invite to a family Christmas that he has no right crashing. No business being at. No thanks. He's not going to do that anymore. He's done it enough to last a lifetime and he's not about to make Eddie's family deal with him. He's too much for anyone to handle, to want, and he can't just arrive at their house and expect a welcome.
"Oh."
Eddie looks surprised. Then his gaze sharpens. He hasn't touched Buck's plate but then neither has Buck. Maybe the mashed potatoes weren't good this time around. Bobby's been quiet lately. Maybe something's going on at home and Bobby can't cook as well as he normally does.
Buck bites his tongue against asking. He has no right to ask. It's not his business and he needs to stop poking his nose in where he's not welcome. All he does is insert himself into every situation and make it about him and he needs to stop before he really loses everyone.
If he hasn't already.
"Well why don't you come over after the shift then?" Eddie suggests, brown eyes still on Buck. "Christopher would love to see you. He wrapped your present himself- he's so proud."
Buck nearly breaks right then and there, thinking of Christopher at Christmas. Opening his gifts. Leaving out milk and cookies for Santa. He wants to see it, wants to be part of it so badly it burns.
But he knows better now. Knows that it's not his place. That he doesn't belong.
So he shakes his head. Gives Eddie the most convincing grin he can manage.
"Nah, I'm just going to crash after the shift. Thanks though." He stands and gathers his plate- still full, nothing more than a single bite taken from everything. Everything tastes like nothing these days but he knows if he didn't eat at all he'd draw the attention of the station and everyone has more important things to focus on right now. "I'll drop off his present before you leave though."
The look on Eddie's face breaks Buck's heart and he doesn't understand it.
But it's for the best. Eddie will understand in time. He'll probably even appreciate it- the lonely, needy guy finally learning to turn down the half-hearted invitations he always gets. Finally learning his place.
He doesn't even check his phone when it buzzes.
Buck keeps to his new schedule. He goes straight home after work, first person out the door, ducking anyone's attempts to call out to him. Eventually they'll stop. They're curious and he supposes he can't fault them for that. He's never met a more nosey bunch than the 118 but that's all it is. They just want to know why the loudest member of the team is suddenly learning to be quiet.
If they think it's because of his breakup with Taylor, fine. It's partially true anyway.
He lets them think that Taylor dumped him. It fits with everything they know about him anyways. He's not worth sticking around for and as far as they know Taylor realized that and left him.
He's not up for the teasing they want to sling at him, the subtle jabs about him being a bad boyfriend, chasing away another woman, not being enough to make her (anyone) stay. Even if he's the one that ended things that still rings true. He just figured it out before her and let her go.
Now he needs to do the same for them.
Skipping a Diaz Family Movie Night is hard.
He wants to see Christopher more than anything. Wants to hear his laughter and hug him. Wants to smell the burnt popcorn because Eddie can't even do that correctly. Wants to eat the burnt bits anyway and give Chris the edible pieces, tease Eddie about not even being able to use the microwave and watch him scowl and toss popcorn kernels at him.
But it's family time. His name isn't Diaz and he doesn't belong there.
Christopher deserves time with his father without Buck there and distracting them. He can't make this about him.
He gives Eddie some bullshit excuse about not feeling well but it backfires, Eddie trying to come over with Chris and the movie so they can keep an eye on him and Buck has to scramble to fend them off.
He doesn't understand. He's giving Eddie an out. He's letting them go. Why isn't Eddie taking it? Why is he acting like he wants to see him anyway? It's not fair, it's cruel because it's everything Buck wants and doesn't deserve. He can't have it. He knows better now.
The universe has been screaming at him for years and he's listening.
Finally, he's listening.
You will always be alone.
He gets it. He's slow. Things usually have to be explained to him slowly, multiple times before he starts to understand. He can't stand to learn this lesson again and again. He's tired. He's so tired.
So he tells Eddie what he can. Just enough of the truth to make him back off.
"I'm just... really tired," he says and it's not even a lie. "I'm not good company right now." He blinks, unaware that he has tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and rolling down his face. "If I'm coming down with something I don't want to pass it on to Chris."
The silence on the other end of the line is so loud.
"Buck," Eddie says, so softly Buck has to bite his lip to choke back the sob. "Are you... okay?"
"Yeah of course. I'm just feeling off. I'll see you at work. Tell Chris I'm sorry?"
It's much easier to lie over the phone, where he doesn't have to see Eddie's face. Doesn't have to look him in the eye and act like he's okay. Like he's not sorry that he's encroached so much into Eddie's life that he can't untangle himself completely from the web that he weaved, the threads he threw around everyone used to force them closer whenever they tried to run.
He lays in the dark, flat on his back and just stares at the ceiling. He never bothered to turn the lights on when he came home. Why bother when he's just going straight to bed anyway? He's sleeping so much these days, fatigue curling around him, weighing so heavy. Nothing hurts when he sleeps. It's better when he sleeps.
He doesn't realize the sound he hears is the door opening until Eddie appears at the top of the stairs.
"Eddie?" He blinks, realizes his face is wet. "What are you-?"
"I thought you could use a Christopher hug."
And then Eddie is handing him his son like it's nothing. Is sliding into the bed beside him like he belongs here, like it's okay for him to do this and it's not, it's just going to make everything hurt so much worse when he goes because he's going to miss it, he's going to know what it feels like to have Eddie's arms around him, to have Christopher squashed between them and squeezing him tight.
He shouldn't. He shouldn't, he's supposed to be increasing the distance between himself and everyone else so it's not as hard when he leaves for good, when he's finally strong enough to pull away but...
He wraps himself around them both, face buried in Christopher's curls and Eddie's shoulder and tries not to cry.
It hurts. It hurts to breathe, to swallow the tears back. It hurts knowing that this is what he wants: Eddie and Christopher and a family that wants him, that won't leave him but he knows, he knows that he doesn't get that. That's not in the cards for him and the universe has proven that time and time again and he needs to listen or he's going to hurt himself even worse.
This doesn't belong to him. And it hurts.
Christopher is asleep on the couch. He's passed out snuggled up under one of Buck's blankets, the pillow he keeps behind his couch and Buck loves him so much.
But he shouldn't.
He can't.
He'll lose Chris too. One day Chris won't want him anymore. One day Eddie will tell him to go. Or worse they'll leave without telling him and Buck won't survive that. The only way to protect himself is to leave first and he's trying to do that, trying to give everyone the space from him he should have been giving them all along but it's hard.
He's so entangled, so wrapped up in everyone's business that stepping back is leaving a gap and everyone's started to notice.
He ignores his phone when it lights up on the counter.
Unknown.
"Not going to get that?"
Buck doesn't look at Eddie. Can't. If he looks up and sees that concerned look on his face he just might break completely and then Eddie will never leave. He can't have that. Can't let Eddie think that something's wrong because he'll try to fix it and then Buck will never be able to let him go. He'll cling tighter at the first sign of affection and Eddie will never be free of him.
He's trapped everyone with his drama, his feelings. Made them think that he can't be left alone and so they won't leave him even when they should.
"It's probably spam. Extended warranty bullshit."
Eddie sighs. His hand lands on Buck's shoulder.
"Buck. I know you're not okay." Buck flinches but doesn't look up.
He can't lie to Eddie's face. He doesn't have that in him. So he keeps his gaze on the counter, keeps his fingers busy picking the label off the bottle in front of him, his hands moving as he pushes the food around his plate. It all tastes like ash in his mouth and it's not because Eddie overcooked it.
I'm fine, gets stuck in his throat. Nearly chokes him.
"Whatever it is, I'm here."
"That's the problem," Buck explodes, shrugging off Eddie's hand when he leaps to his feet. He's not going to cry. He won't cry. "You're here instead of home with Chris, you're worrying about me, you're- I've made this about me again. My sister is suffering and Chimney is gone and everyone is worrying about me instead of what really matters."
Eddie rears back like he's been slapped.
"You matter," he snaps, voice low but fierce. "Buck, you matter."
They're not yelling but their words are harsh and carry over the space between them.
There's not enough space between them. It's acres, miles, just a few feet and it's too much and not enough all at once. Buck shakes his head and stalks onto the balcony.
Eddie follows him, sliding the door partially shut after him.
"Buck- no shut up, I'm talking. I've tried to be patient, tried to let you work through whatever is going on with you but you just kept pulling further away." Eddie steps closer now but doesn't touch him. He won't look away. "I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere until-"
"You will."
Eddie sucks in a shuttering breath. Something close to heartbreak fills his eyes.
"Everyone does. Everybody leaves me." Now the tears fall, now they roll down his face, his chin and fall to the concrete beneath his feet. "It's always me. I'm always the one that's left behind and I can't take it anymore. I'm not going to be left this time." His chest his tight. His lungs burn. He's nearly yelling, voice being drowned out by the honking horns on the street below. "This time I leave first."
Eddie almost folds in on himself, shoulders hunching, one arm crossing his stomach like he's holding himself in, his hand coming up to press against his mouth.
"Buck..."
"No," Buck says, tears shining bright. "No. I leave first this time. I'm not... I can't take being left behind anymore. I can't take it-!"
Maddie left. Maddie promised him she would never leave but she's not here. Chimney left. He said goodbye to everyone and left Buck with a bruised eye and a broken heart. He never even got to say goodbye to Jee, she's never going to get to know her uncle and he doesn't deserve to know her. Abby never even apologized. Ali couldn't handle him. Taylor loved him but it was wrong, it was all wrong and he couldn't... he said he did but it felt false and he knows how that feels, to not really be loved by someone who loves you so he let her go before he hurt her worse.
Everyone, everyone leaves.
Eddie's arms are tight around him, warm against the chill in the air. Buck's shivering, crying, sobbing and it's wrong. He's not supposed to want this. He can't have this. He's supposed to be left behind and it'll break him, it will ruin him when Eddie leaves too.
"I'm not going anywhere," Eddie promises, voice cracking. Buck's collar is wet where Eddie's face is buried. "Buck I am never going to leave you. Not ever. If you transfer then I'm going too. If you move then I'm moving with you. You are my family and I am never leaving you." He goes to his knees when Buck folds. He keeps his arms around Buck the entire time, whispering promises into the younger man's shoulder the entire time.
And Buck shatters.
He wants... so bad he wants to believe him. But life has taught him that no matter the promise, no matter who says the words they are never true.
"I swear to you," Eddie says, nearly sobs. He arranges them better, Buck curled up in his lap, Buck's head on his shoulder, Eddie's tears dripping into his hair. "Buck, god I can't lose you. I love you so fucking much-"
"Don't," Buck begs, the word exploding out of him. "Don't say that. You don't- you don't mean-"
"I do."
"You can't want-"
"I love you Buck. Chris loves you. We love you." Eddie frames Buck's face in his hands, uncaring of the tears that now fall onto his fingers. "It kills me that you can't see that. I love you. I need you. My life was so fucking empty before you came barreling into it and now the thought of a life without you in it..." Eddie's face crumples. "I can't bear to even think about it."
No, no. This isn't true. This can't be true.
His own parents don't want him. Maddie never stays. He chased Chimney away. Eddie can't possibly- he doesn't know what he's saying, has no idea what he's trying to cling to. Everything will be so much better for everyone if Buck just moves on, frees them.
"I love you, Buck," Eddie breathes, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."
He should pull away. He should unwind his arms, remove them from where they're wrapped around Eddie bruise tight. He should pull back and put that distance between them again, tell Eddie that it's okay- that he's okay but when he opens his mouth a sob falls out.
Eddie doesn't push him away. He pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him just as tight.
He doesn't let go.
He doesn't answer Unknown's call. He doesn't check the voicemails they've left. He's almost positive it's Maddie but...
"I'm angry at her," Buck admits, shame lacing every inch of him. "It's not her fault. She can't help it- she has- she needs help I know, I know that but I just..."
Eddie is wrapped around him. Still has his arms around Buck even in the bed, Buck's face buried in his chest.
"She promised she wouldn't leave you again and she did," Eddie murmurs. "You're allowed to be angry at that."
"She doesn't... I'm not enough. I'll never be enough for her. For my parents. I'll never be enough for them to care about, for them to stay. To reach out to me for a change, to keep their promises." Buck bites his lip, feeling the tears well again.
He's cried so much, cried until he was wrung dry and his head began to pound, months and years of hurt escaping him. He bawled his fucking eyes out in Eddie's arms, soaking both their shirts and Eddie held him the entire time.
He's still holding him. Eddie's still here.
"She couldn't help it," Buck whispers, daring to nuzzle closer. Eddie merely hums and tightens his grip. "I know that. Chimney's hurting. She's hurting and I-"
"You're hurting too."
"I shouldn't be."
Now Eddie pulls back but just enough to look Buck in the eye. "You should feel whatever you're feeling," he tells Buck. He reaches up and gently wipes a tear away with his thumb. "If Maddie hurt you then feel that hurt. Don't bottle it up, don't- don't fake being okay. It never works anyway," he adds wryly. "Trust me."
Buck's had years of practice. He knows how to seem okay, how to pretend just enough to make everyone believe him.
But Eddie... Eddie saw right through him. And Eddie is here.
"When's your next therapy session?" Eddie asks, lips brushing Buck's hair with the way they're tangled around each other.
"Wow, you asking about therapy? Mr. bottle-it-up-and-move-forward?"
He feels a soft puff of air against his forehead, the way Eddie's shoulders move with the chuckle.
"I started going to sessions," Eddie admits. "You started pulling away and... I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then you said you were going to transfer, that you were going to leave us and Buck I swear to god the world dropped out from under my feet."
"So I sent you to therapy." He tries to pull away but Eddie holds fast.
"No. My inability to tell you how I felt sent me to therapy. Me showing Chris that he's supposed to bottle things up because that's what I was doing sent me to therapy. The thought of losing you, the realization that I couldn't help you sent me to therapy." Eddie sighs. His grip loosens just a bit and Buck could pull away.
He presses closer instead.
"I... haven't been going," Buck admits. "I haven't since- since the shooting."
"Then that's the first thing we're changing. You need to talk to someone."
Eddie's hands begin sweeping up and down Buck's back. It's soothing, it's calming and he leans into Eddie more. Selfishly presses even closer to get more, to claim more.
"You are surrounded by people who love you and you don't believe it. Maybe we haven't told you enough, haven't shown you enough, I don't know. But that's another thing that'll change. Bobby's been out of his mind lately- he knows something is up."
Buck swallows. "I... told him that when Chim gets back I'll move stations."
Eddie's entire body jerks.
"I didn't want to make everyone uncomfortable," Buck says, rushing to explain. Now that he's started talking it's like he can't stop, everything he's tried so hard to bury rushing to the surface. "Chimney- that's his home, he's been there for years. And if he doesn't want me around then I can go so no one has to pick sides. I don't want to watch everyone drift away- I know how they'd chose anyway. Hen is his best friend, of course she'll side with Chim-!"
"Buck."
Buck manages to swallow the sob.
Eddie scoots down so they're face to face on the mattress. He still hasn't let go of Buck.
"Chimney is coming home and when he does he's going to want you where you belong. Here, with us."
"You don't know that."
"And you don't know that he doesn't. We won't know until he's back. Until then... until then you need to talk to someone. You need- god, Buck how long have you been feeling like this?"
Months. Years. Ever since Chimney left. He's been waiting for Maddie to leave since she came back. Waiting for Bobby to finally really fire him. For Hen to scoff and tell him to leave her alone. For Eddie to tell him to get out and never come back. For his parents to finally admit that they hate him.
"Always," he admits, so softly he's not sure Eddie hears him.
Eddie's next breath stutters. He has tears in his eyes again.
"I want you," Eddie says, hand cupping Buck's face. "I always want you. I love you. I don't understand how someone as amazing as you can't see your own worth." He sniffs. Wipes his eyes, then Buck's. "First thing, we're calling your therapist. Then Bobby. I think you might need some time off."
He waits for the icy fear to wash over him. Time off. Time away. If he's not at the fire house then everyone is going to see how much better it is without him there. They might want him gone then. They might let him go.
Instead he feels... relief.
"Okay," he agrees.
Eddie nods. "And then you're packing a bag. You're going to stay with me and Chris for a while. I don't- you're not going to be alone for this. I won't let you."
When he wakes in the morning, a headache screaming, temples pounding, eyes puffy and swollen, Eddie is still there.
He spends Christmas with Eddie and Chris. Bobby approves the time off without question, then immediately approves Eddie's vacation request as well.
"You shouldn't waste your vacation on me," Buck tries to protest but Eddie shushes him.
"Family emergency," he says, lacing his hand through Buck's and tugging him out the door. "I'm entitled to use my vacation time however I want and you need me. I'm going to be here for you. Now lock up and let's go home."
Home.
He spends Christmas at home, Christopher's laughter filling all those empty spaces in his chest, Eddie's smile lighting him up in a way he didn't think he could feel anymore.
Therapy is kicking his ass. Doctor Copeland tells him he has depression and he has twice weekly sessions- some even in person. Eddie drives him, waits for him in the lobby while he spills his guts to a stranger he pays to listen to him. But it's helping, he thinks.
Even when he can't pull himself out of Eddie's bed, when everything is just too heavy and too much and he lays there all day, he thinks it's helping.
He has dark days, days where he thinks he should leave while Eddie's gone. He could slip out the door and go somewhere else, deal with this in private so Eddie doesn't have to, get himself in some semblance of working order so the others can't see how broken he really is. But he never does. He never gets further than sitting up, the idea swirling around in his head.
Eddie wants him here.
Eddie wants him.
"Goodnight," he says every night around a yawn, arms tight around Buck. "Love you."
"Running to the store," he says, grabbing his keys and throwing Buck a smile. "Be back in a few hours, love you."
Buck can't untangle his thoughts or his tongue enough to say it back.
Eddie deserves better. And he doesn't mean it the way Buck would mean it, the way he wants Eddie to mean it.
But with the Christmas lights twinkling just as bright as Eddie's eyes, Buck lets himself think that just maybe he does. That just maybe Eddie wants him like Buck wants him.
He lets himself believe that Eddie does want him around. Why would Eddie lie about that? Why would he move in someone he doesn't want around? Why would he trust him with Christopher, why would he tease him, why would he hold him every night if he didn't love Buck?
"Merry Christmas Buck," Eddie whispers, arm around Buck's shoulders as they watch Christopher demolish the candy in his stocking. "I'm glad you're here."
And Buck believes him.
"I'm glad I'm here too," he's able to say.
When he reaches up and threads his fingers through Eddie's, the smile Eddie gives him is brighter than all the on the tree and strung up in the house combined.
Chimney comes back to work before he does. He thinks it's for the best. It gives them all time to adjust.
He doesn't know what the others think of his leave of absence. If they were told why he's taking some time off, if they know that his brain is broken, that he's broken, shattered nearly beyond repair, that he's back in therapy, that he's staying with Eddie because he can't stand the silence of his own home.
Do they care? Do they miss him?
Are they so happy to have Chimney back they don't even notice that he's not there?
Buck only glances at his phone when it goes off because if he ignores it Bobby tends to turn up on Eddie's doorstep with that worried look on his face that makes Buck want to throw himself back under the firetruck. If he doesn't answer Hen's texts she FaceTimes him until he answers and then makes him do math questions with her, or reads out gross surgery practices while Buck squirms (and sometimes laughs).
Maddie, the display reads and Buck sucks in a shaky breath.
If Chimney is back then she is too. She's home.
She's where she needs to be. With the people she needs to be with. Buck isn't there, isn't one of those people and she's okay now. He can't mess that up by just inserting himself back into her life again.
And he can't take letting her back in if she's going to leave again. Not even Eddie would be able to pull him back from the edge this time.
He lets it go to voicemail.
Ignores the two texts that follow it.
But then there's a knock on the door and it sends his heart pounding. He freezes, feet welded to the floor, heart in his throat. He can't see beyond the living room, the world suddenly a fishbowl around him and he's dizzy, his breath is coming too fast.
His phone rings.
Maddie
"Buck?"
Maddie. Maddie is on the other side of that door and Buck can't move, can't cross the space to open it. He's stuck. He's frozen. He can't move. He can't breathe.
He stays there until his phone is quiet and the knocking stops.
"Maddie keeps trying to talk to me," he tells Doctor Copeland, face buried in his hands.
"How do you feel about that?"
"I... don't know."
"That's okay," she assures him.
"It doesn't feel okay. It feels like... like I'm supposed to forgive her because that's what I do." He leaps up and begins to pace the length of her office, then back. "Like I'm supposed to just welcome her back and let her right back into my life, ready to let her leave again whenever she feels like it."
"Do you think she will leave again?"
His answer is immediate. "Yes. She leaves, it's what she does. She left when I was a kid to marry her ex. She left me when she said she was going to come with me and stayed instead. She left when she broke all contact with me. She left when she got PPD- and I know that none of that was her fault. Each time she was trapped, or felt trapped, or there were things out of her control but I... she'll leave again and again and I won't be able to take it. I can't take it anymore."
"Have you talked to her about this? How you're feeling, how you've felt these past few years?"
Buck drops back onto the couch. "I can't," he admits. "I can't because if I see her... I'm just going to forgive her and let her back in and go back to how it was before. And I can't do that either. But I'm angry and I don't like it. It makes me feel gross."
Doctor Copeland makes a note. "I would argue that the anger you're feeling is a good thing."
"Being mad at my sister is a good thing? How does that work?"
"Because a few weeks ago you were here because you couldn't feel anything. But now you're angry. Now you're feeling things again- you're allowing yourself to feel your feelings and you're not hiding them from anyone." She leans forward, notepad balanced on her knee. "You are allowed to have feelings, Evan. You can't help what those feeling are and you are allowed to feel them, even when they don't make sense to you. Even if you don't like them. If you need more time before you return to work, before you speak to your sister, then take more time. Those who love you will understand."
"Eddie loves me," he hears himself say. Feels himself believe.
Doctor Copeland smiles. "And how do you feel about that?"
And Buck smiles right back. "Hopeful."
He kisses Eddie just before Eddie returns to work. The timing is bad, couldn't be worse- Eddie's literally dressing to head out the door but Buck leans in to hug him and Eddie smiles and hugs him back and says love you like he always does and Buck...
Buck kisses him. Feels his toes curl with the tingle that shoots down his entire body.
Eddie drops his bag, wraps both arms around Buck's waist and hauls him close for a bone melting kiss, close enough that Buck can feel the moan that rattles through Eddie when he slides his hands through Eddie's hair.
"I love you too," he says.
Eddie laughs, eyes sparkling with tears, and kisses him again.
"I love you," he says in between frantic kisses, hands pawing and exploring, arms refusing to let go. "I love you, I love you, I love you."
And Buck believes him.
This time, it's Chimney.
This time, Buck's able to answer the phone.
"Buck." Chimney sounds surprised, like he wasn't expecting Buck to answer. "Hey uh... can- can we talk?"
Buck takes a deep breath. "Okay."
"Okay!" Chimney sounds... relieved. "Okay I'll... come by? After shift?"
"I'm at Eddie's."
"I know. I... we've missed you around here. It's not the same without you, man."
"It's better," he starts to say. Stops himself. Bites his tongue. He's not supposed to say that anymore, not supposed to tell people what's better and what's worse. Eddie hates it when he mentions how much happier everyone must be now that Chimney is back and Buck is gone. He tells him all the time that he's wrong.
Buck can't believe that quite yet but he's getting there.
"No, it's wrong without you," Chimney is saying. "But we'll talk after shift. I need to- I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have... I'll tell you in person after work okay? You deserve to hear this in person."
Buck doesn't know what he deserves anymore but everyone seems to think it's much more and much better than what he's gotten, what he's been given over the years. They seem determined to tell him that, to show him that he's loved. Wanted. Welcome.
"...how's Maddie?" he manages to ask.
Chimney lets out a slow breath. "She's okay. It's a process." He pauses. "She misses you."
"She left. Again. I can't..." Buck feels the tears in the back of his throat and swallows them down. "I just can't. Not yet."
"Okay. That- that's okay Buck. I'll see you later. I'll bring pizza?"
He brings two pizzas. And they talk. Chimney apologizes so many times Buck loses count. He tells Buck that he shouldn't have hit him. Tells Buck that he didn't deserve to be cut out when he was hurting too. Says that it's okay that Buck is angry at both him and Maddie, that he understands completely. Tells Buck that he shouldn't have said those things to him even if he was hurting too, that Chimney should have realized that all he was doing was damaging Buck further.
"My mental health is not your responsibility," Buck tells him.
"No but our friendship is. And I forgot that. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, man."
When Chimney leaves Eddie is just getting home. Eddie glances between them, notes the tears on both of their faces and goes straight to Buck, arms open, and lets him cry.
He feels... a little better now. Lighter. He's still angry, still hurt, but seeing Chimney didn't gut him like he thought it would. He's raw, parts of him still aching, but Chimney doesn't hate him. Chimney isn't mad at him. Chimney wants Buck back at work, wants Buck to be okay too.
And even that hurts a little. That Chimney who loves him so much could hurt him so badly.
But he's sorry. And they're moving forward.
Buck returns to work a month after Christmas, his hand in Eddie's.
"I'm kinda scared," he admits to Eddie, who nods.
"That's okay."
Eddie says that a lot. That it's okay. No matter how Buck is feeling, no matter what emotion comes spewing out of him Eddie is always there for him, holding his hand, holding him, and tells him it's okay.
And it is. It's okay to feel whatever he's feeling. It's okay that he's scared. That he's angry. That he's depressed.
It's okay that he loves Eddie. It's okay that they're together.
"I don't deserve you," he tells Eddie all the time. When they're cuddled up on the couch. When they're tangled together in the bed. When Eddie makes him bathe, makes him eat, makes him go outside. When Eddie lets him stay in bed all day. When Eddie holds him tight and whispers I love you and it's okay into his hair.
"I don't deserve you," Eddie says to him. "God above I don't deserve you, Buck. But I'm going to try and earn you."
"I love you," Buck tells him, heart aching. "I love you."
Eddie smiles every time. "I love you too."
They walk in together.
This time when Maddie calls, Buck answers.
"Hey."
"Buck." He can hear the tears in her voice, the faint disbelief in that single word, the rush of relief in her sigh. "Oh Buck. I- I'm so sorry, I-"
"I know," he says instead of it's okay. Instead of I forgive you. "I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yeah. I know your brain was scrambled for a bit there. Mine was too. Still is," he admits quietly. He's not making this about him, he's sharing. He's telling people that he's not okay, that he needs help, a little extra assurance right now. "But I'm getting better."
"It's my fault," Maddie cries.
"It's not."
"I left. I promised you I wouldn't but I did."
"You did," he agrees because that's true. "And that... contributed, I guess, but it wasn't entirely you. I haven't been okay for a long time, Maddie. I just hid it for so long I didn't know how to be any other way. But now I- I'm getting help. I have help. I have Eddie and everyone at the station. You're home now and I'm glad."
Over the line, Maddie sniffles. "You're with Eddie now," she says. "Chim told me."
"Yeah." He smiles just thinking about it. "He loves me."
"Oh Buck. That's so wonderful. I'm really happy for you."
"Thanks."
They talk for a bit. Maddie keeps trying to apologize but Buck won't let her. It's not her fault- it's no one's fault. They both try to leave when things get bad, perhaps a habit they picked up growing up how they did, but they're both here now. They're both home. And they're both loved.
And finally, finally, they're both starting to believe it.