Work Text:
Eddie turned the camera over in his hands. It was a tiny thing, really, and maybe that’s what annoyed him so much about it. He couldn’t quite close one hand around it but he had this urge to crush it that he had to push down. Maybe that’s why Frank had given it to him, to see if it would come back in two weeks intact.
Ostensibly, it was an exercise in patience. Eddie had 27 pictures to take over the next 14 days. 27 pictures of whatever he wanted. 27 pictures that Frank would judge. Eddie was tempted to take 27 pictures of the trash can outside Frank’s office and forget the camera in the glovebox of his truck, but then he wouldn’t be trying and he promised Frank he would.
The camera was a Kodak, yellow and black. He’d seen the same ones in the store, never thinking anything of them. They were cheap enough, but they’d become obsolete before Chris was even born, so why would they matter at all? As far as Eddie was concerned, his life had begun when he first held his son in his arms - too unsteady, he had thought, to be trusted to hold something so precious. Eddie’s world was finite, beginning and ending with Chris, and there was no room for the little device on his lap taunting him.
Chris was the whole reason Eddie was even back in therapy. Alright, so, that wasn’t completely true, as Frank coaxed out of Eddie fifteen minutes into their first return session. Chris leaving was an excuse to go to therapy, to confront his own problems. He had done too much in the last couple months to sabotage himself to focus on the things that had been done to him. Sure, Chris left, but only because Eddie had resorted to dealing with old trauma in what Frank called, delicately, a ‘vastly unhealthy and irresponsible’ way.
Since moving to LA, Eddie had always looked forward to going home. Home meant comfort. Home meant an escape from the emergencies outside. Home meant family - the one he had built for himself away from El Paso. Home meant Chris.
But right now, home was empty, cold, it hadn’t felt like home in months. The pictures on the walls seemed to glare down at Eddie as he passed them on his way to his bedroom, the people that were once in his life now distant or distracted or dead.
He stopped in the doorway to Christopher’s room, as he often did, maybe always did. He left the door open, the room untouched, waiting for its owner to come home. Eddie dared not go in, he would never forgive himself for disturbing anything, even the dust that was starting to settle on the shelves. This piece of Eddie’s life would be set in stone, he had decided, until Chris came back to chip away at it again.
Eddie peeled his feet from the hallway floor and ambled over to his own room, vaguely remembering to remove the camera from his pocket before flopping down onto his bed. Something about therapy sapped all the energy right out of him. He laid back and opened his phone, scanning through the messages for the ones that mattered.
Communication from Chris had been sparse, but not nonexistent. If Eddie was honest he suspected his mother had much more to do with the lack of availability for video calls than Christopher himself. He could count on at least one text per day, and he was about due for today’s. Sure enough, in between a few group chat notifications, scam texts, and advertisements, a little blue dot graced the space next to Chris’s contact name.
Christopher Diaz
>>Good morning mijo
>>Doing anything fun today?
>>Call later?
>>I miss you
We can try to call tomorrow<<
His cheeks hurt with how much the simple message made him smile, but it hurt him to realize he was starting a 24-hour shift the next morning.
Christopher Diaz
>>I've got a shift 😔
>>Wednesday?
Eddie knew it might take a minute, or an hour, or a few - for Chris to respond. It wasn’t an urgent matter, even if it felt like it to him. He checked his other texts in the meantime, deleting the appropriate messages and scanning group chats for pertinent information. All he discovered was that Buck and Tommy had a date that night (ugh), Karen was trying out a new molecular gastronomy recipe she saw online (interesting, he supposed, if he knew what that meant), and that there was some drama at dispatch with people that were hired long after Eddie left.
The individual messages were a bit more promising: a couple messages from Bobby complaining about how inaccurate the TV show he was consulting for was being, which Eddie appreciated for humor (and safety’s) sake and sent a quick text in agreement, something from Chimney asking if he knew anything about 4th-grade math, which broke his heart; and a bunch of texts from Buck.
Buck’s texts were always a mixed bag. This particular assortment contained the classic “I saw a cool article today” along with a link, followed by a series of comments that probably made sense in context, then a question about what shirt to wear on his date (ugh. again.), and finally a quick text to wish him a good therapy session. It made Eddie smile, then scowl, then smile faintly again before he texted back a series of responses.
He hit the sleep button on his phone and tossed it onto the bed next to him, but just a moment later heard a buzz. When he worked at dispatch, May had taught Eddie how to set different sounds and vibrations for different people. He had joked it was black magic at the time, but he was infinitely grateful for it now, because it meant he wasn’t getting his hopes up for nothing. Three distinct, even, consecutive buzzes rang softly into the air and Eddie was reaching frantically for his phone.
Christopher Diaz
Sure<<
Good. This was good. He had something to look forward to. Like Frank said, he just had to be patient.
Eddie took his first picture of the iced coffee he bought himself on his way to work the next day.
He didn’t really know if that’s what he was meant to do, but he had gone over 12 hours without taking a picture and his math said that was too long to stay on track. He held the plastic cup in his left hand and raised the plastic camera to his eye with his right, finger hovering just over the shutter release.
He was about to just take the picture and move on, but just as his finger pressed softly on the button, he paused, finding that some part of him wasn’t satisfied. He supposed it might have been the little corner of his brain that had been infiltrated by Frank’s rhetoric that screamed at him to reconsider, be patient . He took a breath, turned the cup until he caught it at a good angle. He turned in place, considering what perspective was best to get just the right background. He smiled as he finally took the picture, something in the click of the shutter and the flash of black in the viewfinder bringing him a bit of joy.
The feeling lasted only a second, after which he felt silly and shoved the camera into his pocket. He slid into the truck, taking a sip of coffee before settling the cup into its slot in the center console.
Eddie had dreaded work recently. When he had first heard Bobby had resigned and the infamous Captain Gerrard was taking his place, Eddie hadn’t honestly been too worried. Sure, he knew Gerrard wouldn’t be any fun, but he figured that having Hen and Chimney and Buck there with him would mean it wouldn’t be hard - it wouldn’t drain him anymore than his home life at least.
Eddie had underestimated just how determined Vincent Gerrard was to break down the members of the 118. ‘Jokes on him,’ Eddie had thought, ‘He’s a bit too late for me.’
It was easy, though, slipping into a routine under Captain Gerrard, too easy. It reminded Eddie of his days in the Army and it must’ve shown because it increased Buck’s worrying tenfold. After every lineup, every call, every chore that had Gerrard yelling - it didn’t matter at who - Buck would appear and ask if Eddie was alright.
And no - Eddie wasn’t alright. Eddie felt the agonizing pressure of his son being away while his parents did what was meant to be his job and he felt like work was becoming a bit too similar to being at war. He knew they weren’t the same, logically, that he wasn’t halfway around the world, that there was no risk of being shot at, that he went home at the end of every shift, that this was definitely another reason he was in therapy, but his stupid head just couldn’t agree with logic sometimes.
Eddie didn’t have a disposable camera in Afghanistan. It was a new difference to catalog, between there and here. This particular exercise of Eddie’s was not one that Frank suggested, but one that his own mind had forced himself into when he was on the verge of a breakdown one shift. Their patient needed a medevac and suddenly there was a helicopter and damn if Donato doesn’t sound just like-. So Eddie played spot the difference.
LA wasn’t all sand and Humvees, LA was city streets and the similar-but-distinct municipal vehicles of the LAFD. LA wasn’t all bullet wounds and IEDs, LA was accidents and bar fights and heart attacks. LA didn’t have his old team, but it did have his new one. LA had Buck.
The second picture Eddie took was of the sunrise.
He had been getting kind of desperate, trying to find something to take a picture of. It was unprofessional to do it on a call, and almost all time at the house was spent doing chores. Even when Gerrard ran out of things to yell at them over, and Eddie was so tempted to take a picture of Buck reading quietly in the loft, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. For one, he didn’t really feel like explaining why he was carrying around a disposable camera to begin with. Also, it felt a bit like an invasion of privacy to snap a picture of his friend that he couldn’t delete or show him. For all Buck’s strengths, vanity has always been a weakness.
So in the 24 hours Eddie was on shift, he didn’t take a single picture. He took a picture in the parking lot, having seen the colorful sky still surrounding the rising sun, and knowing that was something he had seen a lot on instagram. It was only after he clicked the shutter and watched the counter on the top of the camera tick down from 26 to 25 that he realized that this camera only shot in black and white, and the beauty of the colorful sky might not have translated to film as well as he’d hoped.
It really was an exercise in patience.
It was Wednesday though, and Eddie was excited. While changing in the locker room, Eddie had gushed to Buck about his upcoming call with Christopher. Buck was the only person who understood how it felt. What was it he said one time? That Buck was the one who got left, over and over in his life. Eddie knew how close he was with Chris, how much he cared for his best friend’s son, that’s why he was in Eddie’s will, after all. And while Chris didn’t leave Buck , it probably felt like it.
Buck had smiled and told Eddie how glad he was and put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie had just about melted with pride. He had gotten one step closer to Christopher, which meant Chris was one step closer to home.
There was one text from Chris waiting when Eddie had woken up in the bunk room. A time - 1:00 pm MDT. Noon in LA. Noon couldn’t come soon enough. Eddie was buzzing in his seat all the way home, and found that he was so filled with nervous energy that he couldn’t do much of anything except watch his phone sit quietly on his coffee table, making sure it didn’t die over the next four hours.
He nearly jumped out of his seat when it finally rang, a picture of a smiling, younger Christopher filling the screen and the text ‘Christopher Diaz - Video Call’ with the green answer button below it. Eddie took a deep breath and picked up.
They had only had about three video calls in the two months since Chris left. The first two were within the first week, the third about a month later. So it had been 25 days since Eddie last spoke to his son, face to virtual face.
It hurt Eddie as much as it healed him, seeing Chris. He was taller, seemingly hitting an ill-timed growth spurt that made Eddie missing him that much worse. Eddie’s mother had taken Chris for a haircut the week before, he knew that from a short text exchange with her. He had not been provided with a picture. Now, seeing his son’s darkening waves styled neatly, he was reminded of Shannon. He swallowed his guilt to say hello.
“Mijo! You look so handsome.” Eddie smiled proudly into the camera.
“And you still look like Garfield.” Chris meant the cat. It was something about the mustache, he had said, the third video call, when Eddie had revealed it, that was just truly unsettling.
“I look distinguished.” Eddie tried and failed to say confidently. It came out like a child telling their sibling ‘nuh-uh’ in an argument. He could say it all he wanted, it didn’t hold any substance.
“Well you let me know when you’re tired of looking ‘distinguished.’”
“You’ll be the first person I tell.” Eddie hoped it wouldn’t be by text. “So, how’s El Paso? I always did like it in the Summer.”
“It’s fine, I guess. I can’t go surfing here.”
“Well you know, you could come back to LA anytime, just say the word.” He said it like it was a joke, a silly suggestion, but they both knew it was completely genuine. It wasn’t just an offer, it was a plea.
“I know, I know. We’re going to the lake next week.”
“ The lake?”
A very obvious eye roll accompanied the response. “Yes, the lake, Dad.”
“You know, that’s where I met your mom.” Eddie smiled when he said it, but his voice had cracks of sadness.
“I know.”
They sat in silence for a moment before exchanging quiet updates and Chris said he had to go. The call lasted barely 15 minutes, and that was an eternity too short for Eddie.
The third picture Eddie took was of his lunch that day.
Maddie had invited him to wine night. Or rather, Hen had invited him to Maddie’s wine night because he ‘looked like he needed it,’ whatever that meant. Eddie had heard about wine nights but had never actually attended one. They were the stuff of legend at the dispatch center, Josh rubbing it in everyone’s faces when he got an invite to Maddie’s first wine night back. They were the kind of thing Eddie would’ve shrugged off a million times, telling whoever asked that he wasn’t into that kind of thing.
The truth was, Eddie had always loved gossip. Maybe it stemmed from watching his abuela’s telenovela’s or maybe it was just good old fashioned curiosity, but if someone was offering up drama, he wanted to hear it. And sure, he wasn’t really a wine guy, but he wasn’t picky if the drink got him tipsy. Plus, Josh always raved that the food at these things was superb.
This is how Eddie Diaz, manly man, who now owns a whole ass mustache thank you very much , ended up giggling along with two of his coworkers, both of their wives, and Josh Russo as the latter dished on one of the baby dispatchers’ situationship - a word that required a definition for Eddie to understand.
The food was delicious, the wine was far too easy to drink, and the gossip was hot.
Who knew that Teakes from C shift was seeing that actress from that one TV show (Eddie knew the feeling - kind of) and they were keeping it casual but Teakes told Chimney he may be catching feelings so it could never really end well.
And this mom at Jee-Yun’s day care has come in with three different guys just this month and introduced each as her boyfriend.
Turns out there’s a lot of juicy stories coming out of JPL as well, Karen provided at least 4 that had all happened within the past week - a grossly incompetent undergrad who nearly deleted months of data and the chewing-out that came after, the PhD candidates that were apparently only pretending to date so they could steal each others ideas, the PhD candidates that were secretly dating and found making out in the build room, and something about someone using the wrong kind of steel that Eddie didn’t think anyone really got because by that point they were all too wine-drunk to learn about alloys.
The fourth picture Eddie took was a blurry one of the whole group after he started complaining about his ‘stupid therapy homework.’ It might’ve been his favorite one yet.
Eddie was gearing up to leave until Maddie, sitting on the living room floor with half a glass of rosé in hand, gasped loudly and smacked Chimney’s leg to get his attention.
“He’s typing, he’s typing!” She meant Buck. Josh had brought up something about how great it was to be gay, which led into someone mentioning Buck and Tommy, at which point Eddie promptly checked out of the conversation and started thinking of an exit strategy. He had caught onto the fact that the others were conspiring to have Maddie text Buck in an effort to get details about the relationship that Eddie didn’t need, much less want.
It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t happy for Buck, okay? He really was. It was great that Buck had figured out the whole bisexuality thing for himself and it was great that Buck was happy but did it really have to be with Tommy Kinard?
Sure, Eddie had liked Tommy well enough when their interactions were limited to fairly typical bro stuff - fight tickets in Vegas, Muay Thai lessons, chats over truck repairs, trivia night at the bar. It was never going to be a long-lasting friendship, Eddie was just running an experiment - how did it feel to be in a friendship with a guy who wasn’t Buck and what did that mean about them. The experiment was quickly abandoned when Eddie sprained his ankle playing basketball and determined that whatever data he was gathering with Tommy wasn’t worth driving Buck insane.
It was tolerable, at first. It was tolerable when it wasn’t in front of Eddie, which sounds a bit homophobic, but Eddie was currently at a wine night that was 50% gay so he hopes that makes up for it. It wasn’t Eddie’s problem until Eddie didn’t have anyone left to keep him busy. His parents had taken Christopher, and Tommy had taken Buck. Eddie had done the math, he was spending less than half the time he had previously with Buck, and it was Tommy Kinard’s fault. Boring, impatient, barely-interested-in-anything-Buck-has-to-say Tommy Kinard.
Another gasp came from the other side of the living room, where the rest of the group was huddled around Maddie. She read a text out loud: “He says ‘Yeah, going great. Tommy’s taking me to Universal Studios this weekend while we’re both off.’ And then there’s some emojis.”
Eddie scoffed. It was involuntary he swears, but it was clear enough and loud enough and pointed enough to get the attention of the entire hoard of gossip monsters.
Josh was the first to give Eddie a smile. It was a sly little smirk, the same one he threw around when he was being smug while they worked together, the same one he always pulled whenever Eddie mentioned Buck. It always made Eddie uncomfortable, like Josh knew a secret.
“Not a fan of Tommy?” It wasn’t really a question, anyone who’d spent more than a few hours talking to Josh knew it, so the rest of the party was on the same page.
“What do you know about him?” There was a touch of anger and more than a touch of contempt in Eddie’s voice.
“Enough.” Josh shrugged, smiling just as smugly.
“Eddie, I thought you liked Tommy.” That was a question. It came from Maddie, who was staring up at Eddie with her head tilted and her eyes narrowed in that knowing, discerning way that the Buckleys shared. Sometimes it was uncanny how similar they could be.
“Liked is apt.” Eddie flopped into the couch. “As in I once did and no longer.”
It went quiet for a second, and Eddie thought he had said something wrong, until he raised his head to look and found 5 smiling faces staring back at him, now a bit closer. It would’ve been creepy if it wasn’t so affirming.
“You all hate Tommy too?” It was a whisper, like he was saying something forbidden, like the seal of something would be broken if he spoke any louder.
“Why didn’t we invite him here sooner?” Karen nearly yelled, crawling over to put her free arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “Welcome, Eddie, to the Tommy Kinard hate club!”
“We were trying not to talk about him too much cause we thought he was your friend,” Maddie was, thankfully, speaking at a much more reasonable volume. “But he’s the worst.”
“The worst.” Chimney parroted from next to her. “Did I ever tell you about the things he said when I first joined the 118?”
Eddie shook his head.
“He was awful. And some of it was the culture under Gerrard, but we all know that’s not an excuse. Hell, no one’s called me a delivery driver since he took back over, have they?”
Eddie’s jaw fell open with the revelation. “He said what?”
“Yep, and then I saved his sorry ass on a call and we became barely civil. At least he was guilty enough that he’s let me call in favors, but he’s never really apologized, not enough anyway.”
“Wasn’t much better to me.” Hen piped up. “At least now I know some of that was -” She gestured with her hand and took a sip of wine, “internalized. But that definitely doesn’t excuse the way he acted around me for being a woman, specifically a Black woman.”
“It got marginally better when Bobby became Captain, marginally.” Chimney was refilling his glass, Eddie was about to do the same.
“Alright, so he generally sucks.” Eddie summarized. “And now, he’s taking Buck to Universal Studios.” There was bitterness in his voice, and he made no effort to hide it. To Eddie, it felt like a personal attack, even though he was fairly sure it wasn’t. He and Buck had talked about bringing Chris to Disney for the weekend once he came back home. Disney had Marvel and Star Wars and Eddie knew for a fact Buck had wanted to go since he moved to LA, he had just never found a good excuse to.
“I know for a fact that Tommy only wants to go for Harry Potter, which Buck doesn’t even like!” Maddie exclaimed.
Karen softly started chanting in the background “Stop giving J K Rowling money!” Hen silently pumping her fist along with it.
“I mean maybe, just maybe he’ll bring them to the Jurassic Park area, but then it’s only because apparently Tommy likes Chris Pratt’s character.”
“But Buck hates the Jurassic World movies.” Eddie was perfectly comfortable going back and forth with Maddie on this, he could do it all night, longer if he wasn’t so drunk. “He went on an hour long rant when we did the full movie marathon because they ‘missed the whimsy.’”
“He’s excited for the new series though, with Jonathan Bailey.” Maddie winked. Why would Maddie wink? “Alright, but I have to know.” She leaned in close to Eddie. “What do you make of the whole ‘Evan’ thing?”
Eddie’s eyes widened in appreciation. “What is with that?? It isn’t a boyfriends thing, ‘cause he’s been doing it since they met. Do you know how many times I’ve called Buck ‘Evan?’” Maddie, visibly more than tipsy after her - what was that? - fourth glass of wine, shook her head. “Maybe three times, only twice that I remember and that was only because of- “ He paused, not wanting to open that can of worms. “Extenuating circumstances.”
“It’s weird. ” Maddie exclaimed. “The only reason I call him that is because it’s a habit from when we were kids and he says it’s alright because he grew up with me. No one else calls him that, not even our parents are supposed to.”
“Daddy issues.” Josh had probably tried to mumble it, but the whole room heard it clearly enough. Laughter erupted all around them as Maddie and Eddie shared an awkward look.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth pictures Eddie took were of various wine night-attendees flipping off the camera. He wouldn’t remember taking them.
It had been four days since Frank had given Eddie the camera and, according to the counter, he had 21 pictures left to take. According to Eddie’s mental schedule, this meant he was, for the most part, on track to finish just in time to hand in his completed homework at his next therapy appointment.
He was on a 48-hour shift. The schedule had been messed with - can you even call it that if it was, in fact, the Captain that made it that way? - and he was spending the first half with Buck and Chimney, and the second half with Hen. He hated working without Buck, but he hated it even more when he remembered where Buck was going when he left and with who.
Eddie’s memory of the previous night was near-complete, which was more than Chim could say, but the end was very fuzzy. The last he remembered, he was giggling over some tik tok Hen had shoved in his face and the next thing he knew he was waking up on the Buckley-Han living room sofa with a pounding headache.
As if Gerrard’s reign of terror could get any worse, Eddie had never braved it hungover until now. He barely had enough energy to run home for his bag, let alone stand tall while being berated and bullied for 48 hours. He really should have said no to wine night - but then he wouldn’t have gotten the best news he’d received in months: that he wasn’t alone in his hatred of Tommy Kinard.
The seventh picture Eddie took was of the outside of the station as he walked in.
He put some effort into the shot. He carefully lined up the roof and the seam where the wall met the ground in order to frame it just so and take the perfect photo. In the end, he was rather pleased with himself. Gerrard, on the other hand, was staring daggers at him from the door.
“Diaz. You’re late.” His drill Sergeant would’ve charged 50 push ups for that, Gerrard was letting him off easy with a scolding and maybe a few extra chores to come.
“My bad, Captain Gerrard, it won’t happen again.” It probably would happen again, Maddie had convinced him to become a staple at her weekly wine nights from then on out. Apparently he was just too much fun not to keep around.
Eddie set his bag down on the bench in the locker room and got to changing just as Buck was finishing up. He gave Eddie a look up and down with a smirk and raised eyebrows- really a silent comment on how visibly hungover he was, because Buck could say so many words to Eddie without so much as opening his mouth, and vice versa.
Blame your sister, Eddie glared back, flicking his eyes over to Chimney, also hungover on the bench behind them, for emphasis.
Wine night? Said Buck’s eyes.
And Eddie couldn’t shoot back a ‘ What can you do?’ grin or a ‘Never let me do that again’ stare. Eddie had realized that if he continued this conversation with Buck, even if no actual words were being exchanged, it would end with him letting slip that he, along with half the people they knew, all hated Buck’s boyfriend. So Eddie just blinked, and Buck just smiled and shook his head a bit and turned to put his civies in his locker.
The eighth picture Eddie took was of Buck walking away, none the wiser that he had just become part of Eddie’s homework assignment. Eddie was none the wiser about what Frank would have to say about that.
Chimney had given him a look, then. Chimney knew about the camera from the previous night, although Eddie had not let slip why exactly he was carrying a disposable camera around everywhere he went. Eddie, try as he did, could not decipher Howard Han’s looks . He knew Maddie could, so maybe it was a Buckley thing - they each share the ability to communicate completely nonverbally with one person. He tried not to shudder as the question of if Tommy could read Buck’s looks crossed his mind.
Speaking of communication, he quickly typed out and sent a message to Chris before slipping his phone into the pocket of his uniform pants.
Christopher Diaz
>>I'm working a 48, keep me occupied?
Eddie sighed and ventured out into the bay for the per-shift line up. He already knew he was in for a verbal thrashing, and he was prepared for it, but that didn’t make it pleasant. He walked neatly into line with Buck, Chim, and the other firefighters on shift. Being so hungover did make it a bit hard to stand so straight and to look pretty much directly into the rising sun, but it was nothing prohibitively difficult.
Gerrard started at the other end of the line. Eddie started to zone out - not completely, just enough to ignore the pain and emotional turbulence that no work-life balance could fix because it enveloped both work and life, just enough to keep his wits about him in case a stupid question needed answering. A stupid question like -
“Do you have any respect for this uniform?”
Oh. Well not like that. Usually Gerrard spewed some bullshit about the color of the trucks or what they ate for breakfast this morning because they may not get to lunch when they have all this cleaning. This was a surprise, it was fair, it reminded Eddie too much of the Army and his hungover mind didn’t have much space left to play spot the difference.
“Sir yes Sir,” he barked, automatically.
Gerrard actually took a step back in surprise, pausing before jumping back into his beratement. “It doesn’t show. You’re sloppy. ” He spat at Eddie’s shoes. “Look at you, your hair’s a mess, you haven’t shaved, eyes sunken into your skull. What is this, your walk of shame? You don’t have to have any dignity but you better damn well act like it while you’re under my roof!”
Eddie wasn’t listening, Eddie wasn’t really present. He heard the words, sure, but they went in one ear and out the other. What made Eddie start listening again was a different voice - Buck’s.
“This isn’t your roof.”
“Excuse me?” Gerrard’s voice was moving away from Eddie and towards his left - towards his Buck .
“It’s like you’re house-sitting, right? The plan was never for you to stay here forever so you don’t get to call this your roof.”
Buck knew what he was doing, he had to, it just made Eddie the tiniest bit more angry at him. Eddie could deal with Gerrard, he’d been dealing with him for months, so what he had a little slip up, he was still okay. The last thing Eddie wanted was the strength of Gerrard’s fury turned all the way up and pointed at Buck.
“I should write you up for insubordination.”
Everyone on the line knew it was an empty threat. Writing someone up for something subjective would open up a Pandora’s box of complaints against Gerrard. His claims would get investigated, and they would get investigated a lot quicker than the complaints piled up in the chief’s office, but if he filed a report, internal affairs wouldn’t just investigate his claims during their visit, they’d be investigating all the ones against him, too. Instead, Buck would get punished personally, stuck as the man behind and cleaning every last inch of the firehouse.
“You should, Sir, if I’m being insubordinate.” If Buck wasn’t grinning, he’d gotten a better poker face since the last time he played. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to look.
Unfortunately for Buck, and even less fortunately for Eddie, Gerrard saw right through him.
“Diaz, you’ll be man behind this shift. I expect the bathrooms clean and the dishes done by 10. I better not see anyone helping him, you all have better things to do.”
Buck guffawed in Eddie’s periphery as Gerrard waved the group to get to work. Eddie shook himself off and started walking silently in the direction of the bathrooms, but his path was cut off by a wall made of his tall, muscular best friend. He couldn’t go around a wall that moved.
“Are you alright?” Buck demanded, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Peachy.” Eddie forced a slight smile. It wasn’t even an attempt to convince Buck he was okay, but rather to convince Buck that he was himself. There were reasons Eddie didn’t talk about his time in the Army, memories that were currently creeping their way back into the box he liked to lock them in.
“Listen, Eddie, if you need -” Buck was looking at him with those big, worried blue eyes, brows slanted down. It was how he had looked at Eddie when-
“It wasn’t a flashback, Buck. It was just a reflex that I thought was buried better than it was.” It wasn’t even a lie. Buck had interrupted Eddie’s spiraling, had given him a grip on reality. There was no Buck in Afghanistan.
This seemed to calm Buck a little, and his hand relaxed a bit where it touched Eddie, the rest of his body following suit. “Alright.” He conceded. “But you’ll let me know if you need help?”
“Of course.” Eddie walked away, resuming his B-line for the bathrooms, he had a job to do after all.
He was wiping the sink counter clean when his pocket buzzed. Bzzzz Bzzzz Bzzzz - It was Chris.
Eddie didn’t care if Gerrard was standing right behind him, he was going to check his phone, damn the consequences. When he opened the text, he found that it wasn’t a message, exactly, but an invitation to play a virtual game of ‘cup pong’ on an app Eddie vaguely remembered downloading at Chris and Buck’s insistence. He wasn’t thrilled about the concept of his barely-teenage son playing a game so obviously based on the college drinking game, but he was desperate. He hit play.
The game was pretty slow, but it kept him busy. Every once in a while, Eddie would feel the familiar buzz in his pocket and take a moment to swipe his finger to throw the little virtual ping pong ball and maybe land one. He wasn’t out on calls, Gerrard had made sure of that, so it was pretty much the most excitement he got for the day.
Eddie had successfully cleaned the bathrooms and washed the dishes by 10, and then finished inventory by noon, then scrubbed the trucks with the rest of the crew after lunch, and then mopped the floors while they were out on their next call. Chimney had given him a knowing look when Gerrard barked the order, but Eddie had just shaken his head as they left and pulled out his phone as soon as they were out of sight, finding Christopher had won the first game and promptly challenged him to another - a game of darts.
The ninth picture Eddie took was of the empty, shining-clean engine bay.
If there was one thing Eddie didn’t understand about Gerrard, it was his hatred of team dinners. It was simple enough deciphering the reasons behind most of his actions - Gerrard was a racist, sexist, homophobic old man who sought power in every opportunity he got. You didn’t need to be Frank to figure that much out. But Chimney and Hen had mentioned team dinners when they worked under Gerrard, they just weren’t always welcome. Now, they were non-existent.
The kitchen was going basically unused, much to Bobby’s particular annoyance whenever they complained to him. For the first few shifts, Buck had attempted to make meals for everyone, carry on the tradition while Bobby was away, but Gerrard had cracked down quickly, removing any ingredients from the kitchen and leaving microwave meals and takeout menus in their place.
This is how Eddie ended up eating ramen for the seventh shift in a row. He imagined this is what food in college was like, wavering between tasteless and brimming with flavor (he quickly found there was no in between) and hot enough to burn his mouth for days.
Buck sat across from him at one of the small tables, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich but mostly gushing about this documentary on stingrays he watched the previous night. Eddie gladly listened to everything from the special way rays use their body shape to swim to the proper way to pet them and “ By the way the aquarium is opening a petting pool and we should totally bring Chris.” It was sickeningly sweet, the way Buck smiled when he mentioned Chris, because although the thought of spending time with Chris was happy, every time he mentioned the kid, Buck gave Eddie a look with his eyes that whispered softly he’s coming home, you know, he’ll be home soon.
Buck got a text when they were almost done with dinner. Eddie wished it had come a few minutes later, so he wouldn’t have to talk about him.
“It’s Tommy.” Buck said, smiling at his phone. “We’re going to Universal tomorrow after our shifts are over.”
“I heard.” Eddie grumbled.
“How did you-? Oh right - wine night.” Buck smirked a little bit. At this point in the day, Eddie was much less disheveled, but it wasn’t like Buck was going to just forget the events of that morning. Eddie had only gotten that drunk a few times since they met, only a couple more before then. Being hungover was pretty out of the ordinary for him.
“Yeah. Wine night.”
“I should’ve known Maddie was tipsy last night. She usually isn’t too interested in hearing about my love life.”
Her and me both. Eddie thought.
“Anyway, I don’t really know how I feel about Universal Studios, the whole thing with the Wizarding World - I mean I really don’t like giving J K Rowling more money - and I’m still so excited to go to Disneyland with you and Chris.” That last comment made Eddie’s heart sing and the petty part of him smile. “But Tommy seems really psyched about it so it should be fun!”
“I hope so.” Eddie’s fingers might’ve been crossed under the table.
The tenth picture Eddie took was of his nearly empty ramen bowl after Buck left. If Frank asked, he would tell him it was meant to be ironic.
Hen had the nerve to be well-rested when she arrived for her shift the next morning. Eddie passively polished the back of the engine as he watched Chimney and Buck depart the bay together, greeting Hen as she came in.
“Hey, Eddie, how are you doing?” Hen’s voice was always chalk-full of sisterly love. It reminded Eddie of his own sisters sometimes.
He took a deep breath. “I earned myself man behind yesterday.”
“Chimney told me that was all Buck. Alright maybe a little bit was us getting you so drunk the other night.”
“Yeah.”
“Well after today you have what? Three days off?” Hen glanced towards the schedule posted on the wall. “That’s good, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie was dreading three days off. Three days off weren’t what he wanted when Chris was in Texas and everyone else was busy. The only positive was that he had plans to visit Bobby while he was on a break from consulting on his TV show. Eddie could use some advice that didn’t involve this stupid disposable camera.
Lineup went by without a hitch. Normally the hitch was Buck, so it made a certain amount of sense. Gerrard assigned someone else as man behind, but only because Eddie was now the second most senior medic on shift and was needed on med calls with Hen in the ambulance.
“You’re stuck with me all day!” Hen teased, the huge smile on her face a mix between proud and mischievous.
The eleventh picture Eddie took was of himself and Hen in the front of the ambulance as they came back from a call. It was at an awkward angle and Eddie was barely visible, but it was one of his favorites so far.
Eddie thought he was lucky, getting stuck in med call after med call all day, only stopping at the station and having to face Gerrard at all when they needed to restock. To his chagrin, though, this left him with little time to keep up with the games Chris had him playing. For the first time in months, he was the one limiting their communication and he hated it, even if Chris said he understood.
Christopher Diaz
>>Hey mijo
>>It's pretty hot in LA and I'm on medical calls
>>It might take me longer to respond, but I'm still checking every text
It's ok dad ur fine<<
They had transported three cases of heatstroke alone before they could eat lunch. They weren’t really supposed to, not under Gerrard, but Hen parked the ambulance outside a Jack in the Box and they sat on the back while they ate. Eddie had hoped to get through a meal without another conversation about a particular couple, but Hen wouldn’t let him escape.
“Have you checked instagram yet?”
“What?”
“You know, to see what Buck and Tommy are doing?” Hen had a smile on her face, but her eyes passed a knowing judgment on the whole ordeal. At least now Eddie knew she didn’t approve.
“Why would I want to do that?” Eddie made no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice, and it coaxed a laugh out of Hen.
“If I pull up Tommy’s story will you laugh at it with me?”
That sounded like a fantastic offer. Eddie nodded his head enthusiastically and leaned in to get a better look at the screen. They had only been at the park for a couple of hours, but evidently Tommy had posted enough pictures to his story that Eddie couldn’t count them from the bar at the top alone.
Most were of things in the park that were pretty recognizable if you had ever seen an advertisement - pictures of ride entrances and copies of Hollywood landmarks, a bunch at the beginning of the signs entering the park. There was a picture of Tommy’s breakfast - some sort of sandwich and a cup of iced coffee - which suddenly made Eddie feel like a hypocrite as he glanced down to where his pocket held the disposable camera. There were a few selfies sprinkled about - Tommy’s smiling face and the occasional sneak peek of Buck in the corner.
“You wouldn’t even know Buck was there .” Eddie muttered, spurring a giggle from Hen.
“They are instagram-official, right? That’s not the Mandela effect?”
“Unless that was some twisted nightmare, yes, yes they are.”
“Like at least look like you enjoy the guy’s company, jeez!” Hen continued to click through the pictures, which were much the same. “Maybe Buck’s posted something.”
Eddie swallowed his nerves. Some part of him hoped Buck had posted something, just to see his face, see that he was happy. But mostly Eddie wanted nothing more than to think that Buck was having a terrible time with his terrible boyfriend.
Hen tilted the phone towards Eddie, showing him the single photo Buck had posted to his story. It was fairly simple - a shot of the view as you come through the main entrance, you didn’t have to go to the park to know that. It wasn’t just a quick shot like all of Tommy’s pictures though. It looked as if Buck had taken the time to center himself on the street and waited to get a good picture without too many people in it. It was well-composed, as much as Eddie could judge, and generally aesthetically pleasing.
“See, I’m so proud of Buck for officially joining the club, but did he have to do it with Tommy? Eh, he’ll figure it out eventually, right?”
Hen had looked right at Eddie when she said the last sentence, and it felt like she was staring into his soul. They sat like that for a minute, Hen staring and Eddie sweating like someone about to be murdered or maimed or interrogated, before the distinctive buzz buzz buzz of Christopher’s text interrupted the silence.
Eddie took a minute to play his round in the game, sent off what he hoped was an appropriate emoji for the situation, and went to throw out his trash from lunch. Hen continued to side-eye him as he drove to the next call, but nothing more was said on the subject.
The twelfth picture Eddie took was of a street musician playing near a call. He asked first.
The thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth pictures Eddie took were of jellyfish.
It was an impulse decision to go to the aquarium. Buck was spending a second day at a theme park with Tommy , and Chris was in Texas. Maybe Eddie missed them, maybe he just wanted to stare at the pretty fish and pretend to read the informational displays. Maybe Eddie would read the informational displays, just in Buck’s voice, and maybe he would imagine Christopher commenting on the facts and remarking how cool the animals were, and maybe if it were real it would make Eddie feel whole.
He had never been to the aquarium alone before. He didn’t even know if that was something people did. He had always been the one in the group that tags along in the back, happy because the people he was with were happy. Walking the familiar dark hallways, he observed the family units exploring the building, not a single solitary person to be found - outside of the employees scattered about.
Eddie looked at the sea lions, and learned that they can hold their breath for 20 minutes. He looked at the sharks and learned that they don’t have any bones - something he was sure Buck had told him before. He looked at the penguins and learned that these penguins - Magellanic penguins - mate for life. They are faithful until one dies, and they raise their chicks together, and they’re beautiful and happy and No, Eddie, don’t start crying in the aquarium.
He reached the jellyfish last. Chris always enjoyed watching them bounce lightly around in the water. He always said they looked like they were floating. Eddie was usually too entranced by them to comment. He had wondered what would happen if he went there alone, if maybe he’d never stop looking at them floating so beautifully through the water, not a care in the world. Today was not the day he would find out if that were true.
The marine neurobiologist, as his nametag indicated, was named Jaime, apparently, and Jaime was watching the jellyfish. Jaime was tall, more muscular than Eddie thought a marine neurobiologist - whatever that was - should be. Jaime had loose waves of sandy blonde hair and while Eddie couldn’t make out his eyes too well in this light, he imagined them to be blue.
Eddie had to force himself to watch the jellyfish.
“These are my favorites.” The sudden sound made Eddie jump a bit, but he glanced over to see the man still watching the jellyfish and quickly joined him again.
“Yeah?”
“They’re fascinating! I can tell you all about them if you’re curious.”
Eddie could feel that Jaime was beaming at him now, much in the way Buck looked right before he started gushing information. “Please.” Eddie agreed without another pause.
“Well, these are box jellyfish, to start out with. They’re found in the Caribbean and all the way up near Florida, but you can also find them in the Pacific. For an animal so simple compared to other ocean life they really do thrive.” Jaime was nowhere close to done talking, and Eddie was nowhere close to done listening. “Their bodies are almost completely transparent. You can’t see them very well in their natural habitat, but the lights are on so you can here. Right now, you can see them a bit better because they just ate.
“Did you know that jellyfish don’t have brains?” He waited just long enough for Eddie to nod slightly, which lit up Jaime’s face. “It’s amazing how their nervous system functions. That’s my specialty, I’m a marine neuro biologist, so I study the behavior and neurology of all the animals here. Anyway, back to these guys. They’re cnidarians, like sea anemones and hydras, so they don’t have a central nervous system like most animals. Instead, they have these bundles of nerves called rhopalia. It’s where their eyes are and from what’s been studied, they can actually do a lot more with their rhopalia than we thought. They may not have a brain, but they can still see and move and learn. They never fail to surprise me, and that’s why they're my favorites.”
Eddie smiled. “Thank you for that.” He didn’t add that for a second there, he forgot that he had come alone.
Jaime nodded to Eddie, then to the jellyfish, and turned to walk down the hallway, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts and these brainless little blobs that floated through the water like angels. He wished he was that care-free.
There was a sign on the wall: ‘No flash photography,’ so Eddie fiddled with the camera until he found the small button that turned off the flash. He took one picture, then another, and another, and a fourth, before he realized that making nearly a fifth of his pictures nearly identical shots of nearly identical jellyfish did not fit the brief of being patient.
He took another picture with his phone and sent it in a group chat to Buck and Chris. Both were busy that day - Buck with Tommy and Chris well on his way to the lake with Eddie’s parents. Eddie didn’t even know if Chris had cell service, let alone if his mother had allowed his son to bring his phone to begin with.
Someone was obviously paying attention because within a minute, Buck’s name popped up with those three little dots, and another minute later a message appeared - full of fun facts about jellyfish. A few minutes after that, two notifications came in - Chris had liked the picture and Buck’s mini infodump. It all made Eddie’s heart sing.
The seventeenth picture Eddie took was of a bird.
It was in his backyard when he woke up on Monday. It was sort of brown and gray and Eddie was sure he had seen the kind before but had never cared enough to find out what kind that was. Anyway, it was interesting enough and Eddie was bored, so he supposed it would do.
Eddie’s lunch with Bobby was at 11. He knew Bobby had already started cooking for it because he woke up to a text waiting on his phone - a picture of a batch of short ribs ready to cook. Buck had sent him a complaint about Gerrard when he went on shift that morning, and Chris had sent a picture of the lake.
Eddie noticed when he checked his phone that he had been added to the wine night group chat, something he, until now, only suspected existed. Maddie had sent a quick “Added Eddie” message and some of the others had followed up with texts along the lines of “welcome” or “have fun sorting through the chaos,” before Maddie followed up with “Oh btw Eddie, Athena’s not in the chat but she’s coming this week.” Fair enough, Eddie thought, a lot of people can use a good wine night.
It was already 10 when Eddie finished his shower. Eddie pulled on a nice-ish shirt and shaved, trimming his mustache carefully. It wasn’t much but it was something - a tiny piece of his life to have some control over. He gelled back his hair and tucked his St. Christopher medallion into his shirt and grabbed the book he had seen in the store a few days ago that made him think of Bobby.
Bobby and Athena’s new house was smaller than the old one. Eddie supposed it made sense. Harry and May didn’t live there anymore, so why have four bedrooms? Eddie felt like he had too much space lately, though he wouldn’t downsize for the world. Bobby opened the door before Eddie reached it, still wearing his apron and smelling smoky with barbeque.
“Come on in, Eddie, lunch is just about ready.”
“Smells good in here,” was all Eddie could comment.
“Smells like work.” Bobby smiled, maybe a bit bitterly, as he pulled a cookie sheet full of corn and biscuits out of the oven. “Real work, I mean.”
Bobby had complained a lot about his new - he’ll let you know it’s very much temporary - job. Sure, he was using some of his expertise to help make the TV show Hotshots more accurate, but the experience of the 118 was missing. Bobby wasn’t leading a team, he wasn’t saving lives, and his team was elsewhere doing the job he longed to do. Bobby felt lost. Eddie could relate.
“So, what’s for lunch? I’m sure I could hazard a guess but I’d like to hear it from the chef himself.”
“We’ve got smoked short ribs, roasted corn, and cheddar biscuits. I picked up this sauce from the store, the online forums say it’s one of the best you can get without having to special order.”
“Sounds delicious. Of course I’m a bit of a critic when it comes to barbeque.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Bobby smiled fondly and started serving the food.
The eighteenth picture Eddie took was of lunch.
The food was great. Who was Eddie to expect anything else, upbringing be damned? They chatted about work, exchanging anecdotes they had both mentioned to various group chats, and commiserated until they were laughing to each other about the stupid people they had to deal with day to day.
“So, Eddie, I have to ask about the camera.”
Eddie went still for a second, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. It’s not that he didn’t want Bobby to know, he just didn’t like talking about it. The only time he had talked about it was while he was extremely drunk and that wasn’t an option he would choose with Bobby. Instead, Eddie bit the bullet and just told him.
“It’s homework, from Frank.”
“I wasn’t aware you were back in therapy.”
“Yeah, well after everything, I need it.”
“I can understand that. I’ve been going to more meetings, I’ve been going back to church, too.”
“I tried going to the church, it didn’t really work for me.” Eddie had, indeed, tried confession. He had gotten through about two sentences before the guilt and skepticism and everything else started clashing in his stomach and he needed out. “But therapy’s been good. I think it would’ve been better if I went before I destroyed my own life, but it’s helping.”
“I’m really glad to hear that, Eddie.” Bobby put an affirming hand on Eddie’s arm. “You’ll get Chris back soon.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying but it still doesn’t feel true.”
“Everyone?”
“Buck mostly. He tells me all the time. Sometimes I think he’s too optimistic. Sometimes I think he knows something I don’t.”
“Well I don’t know much of anything but I know how much that kid loves you. This isn’t a forever thing, he just needs some time.”
“Thanks, Cap.” The nickname slipped out, and Bobby’s face tightened slightly. “You’ll be back soon, too. Remember that for us, will you?”
Buck
Thai or Indian?<<
Eddie what do you want for lunch<<
Wake up<<
WAKE UP!<<
Fine I guess thai it is :)<<
Eddie overslept. He knew Buck was coming over after his shift and he purposefully didn’t set an alarm. Honestly, he thought he’d wake up in time. But Eddie was running on a sleep deficit, and a Chris deficit (and a Buck deficit). Buck had sent five texts and Eddie hadn’t woken up for any of them. Chris hadn’t sent anything.
Buck
>>Good morning Buck
Eddie went to get dressed. He knew Buck wouldn’t care how he looked - why would he? - but he knew his current condition wasn’t ideal. He could tell from the reflection in his phone screen alone that his hair was a mess and his face still had indents from sleeping on his arm. He threw on a henley and some jeans, going to slip the camera into his pocket. The counter on the top read 9 - 9 pictures left to take and 6 and a half days to do it. Eddie could do that.
Buck arrived ten minutes later, Thai food in hand. He unlocked the door with his key and slipped into the house fairly quietly. If it were not for Eddie already being in the kitchen waiting for him, Buck would’ve most likely gone unnoticed until he said something or inevitably started making some other noise.
“Hey sleepyhead.” Buck greeted, fondness rich in his voice. He kept his volume quiet and smiled over at Eddie while he unpacked the to-go containers from the thin plastic bag. They had done this enough that Buck didn’t have to guess at Eddie’s order. He put the Tom Kah Gai to the side for himself and poured Eddie’s Pad See Ew onto a plate before getting out a fork and handing it to him. “You look like shit. Eat.”
“Thanks.” Eddie failed to put any, even sarcastic, ire into his voice. The whole thing was just sweet. “How was your weekend?”
“What do you mean?”
What did Eddie mean?? Buck’s boyfriend had taken him to a theme park for fuck’s sake. “Universal Studios?” Eddie clarified.
“Oh, right.” It was as if Buck had forgotten it even happened. From his social media, you might believe that. After the original story post, he had posted the same picture to his main profile with no caption and simply tagged Tommy. “It was fun.”
“Tommy seemed to enjoy it.” Eddie wasn’t really thinking. If he was, he wouldn’t have brought up Tommy to begin with. On top of that, Buck gave Eddie a confused look - one that said in their wordless language how did you-? “I saw his instagram story.” Buck’s expression faded, but didn’t quite disappear, questions hanging unsaid in the air. There were a lot of those lately.
Buck paused before answering. “Tommy had fun, yeah.”
“And you?”
“I -” Buck started before cutting himself off, seemingly considering what to say. “Tommy really likes Universal, apparently. He had opinions about what we should do.”
“Opinions?”
“You know how I don’t really like rollercoasters?”
Eddie knew. Eddie had listened to the story of Buck’s first loss on a call a few times, one time from Buck himself on a particularly emotional night.
“There are a lot of roller coasters at Universal.” Buck continued. “And Tommy wanted to go on all of them.”
“And you didn’t want to.”
“Yeah. I told him before we left. I told him when he told me he bought the tickets. I explained everything but he said that if I’m not afraid of roller coasters then I should go on them, for him.”
“And you did.” It wasn’t a question. Eddie knew Buck well enough to know that he would put the wants of a person he cared about before his own needs.
“Yeah. And it was okay, I didn’t have a panic attack, nothing happened , but it certainly wasn’t fun.” Buck had stopped meeting Eddie’s eyes, and that hurt Eddie’s soul. “I wanted to go on some other rides - the simulators and the dark rides, but Tommy thought they were lame. The only one he wanted to go on was the Harry Potter one which I don’t even care about.”
“So you didn’t have fun?”
“It was fine.”
“You were at a theme park. You - Evan Buckley, the golden retriever of people, were at a theme park and you didn’t have fun.”
“No, I didn’t.” he paused. “Work was shitty without you yesterday.”
“Work has just been shitty lately, I have noth-”
“It’s worse when you’re not there. It’s harder to get through when I have to get through it without you.”
“I know what you mean.”
They sat in silence, unasked questions left floating in the air as they ate. Like jellyfish , Eddie thought.
Buck had finished with his soup when he finally said something. “Chris will be back soon, you know.” Eddie didn’t know if Buck realized he said it at least once every time they were alone together. Eddie wasn’t too sure if it was true, but the affirmation still warmed his heart the tiniest bit every time.
“I hope.”
The nineteenth picture Eddie took was an accident.
While changing at the end of his 24-hour shift that Thursday morning, Eddie had fished the camera out of his pocket when his finger tapped the shutter release and the flash blinded him for an instant as it captured a picture of his chest - his shirtless chest. Eddie considered burning the camera and telling Frank he’d accidentally brought it into a house fire.
The twentieth picture Eddie took was of the label on a bottle of wine.
Eddie preferred red wine, he’d decided. It was fuller, fruitier, and an express route to tipsiness. He had been instructed by the wine night group chat to bring a bottle and some cheese. Eddie resorted to asking the barely-21 store employee for recommendations.
“I like this one,” she had said, pointing lazily at a $10 bottle of something Eddie wasn’t even certain could be legally called wine. “But that’s what my mom drinks.” She adjusted her finger to point to the next shelf up, where a respectable bottle of Merlot sat. Eddie put it in his basket and hoped some brie would pair well.
Eddie arrived at the Buckley-Han house late. Maybe if he wasn’t in a rush to get inside he would’ve noticed the cars, or lack thereof. Expecting a party, Eddie was surprised to find only three people waiting for him inside: Maddie, Athena, and Karen.
“Where is everyone?” Eddie questioned as he sat his contributions on the table.
“Chimney and Hen are taking care of the kids at our place.” Karen explained.
“Josh had a shift.” Maddie added. What that meant, as Eddie knew, was Josh scheduled himself for a shift on Thursday night. On wine night.
“Uh huh.” Eddie wanted them to know that he knew. He was in on the secret. Or, rather, he was in on the fact that there was a secret, that there was a reason this wine night was exclusive. If only Eddie knew what that reason was.
“Eddie, come here, have a seat!” Athena was smiling at him in that way that you just couldn’t say no. Eddie wasn’t close with Athena, and most of their interactions had been through work, the rest through Bobby, but not even Eddie Diaz was immune to the powerhouse that was Athena Grant.
Eddie took a seat on the floor in between Athena and Maddie, where Athena had been gesturing a second before. He smiled graciously, if suspiciously, while Maddie poured him a glass of wine and looked around the quiet room.
“So, how is everyone?” Eddie attempted to start the conversation, but was leveled by Athena’s glare.
“Eddie, how are you?” Maddie put a hand on his arm.
“I’m good. Been better but I’m good.”
“How’s Chris?”
That’s when Eddie noticed. Athena, Maddie, Karen. Mothers. Mothers who didn’t work at the 118. All the mothers Eddie knew personally that weren’t his own family or Hen, who was more like a sister to him. Someone had decided that Eddie needed a mother, or a swarm of them, to help him.
“I don’t need a therapy session or an intervention. I’m already seeing Frank.”
“How often?” Maddie asked. She was clearly the ring leader, but she also had the most hands-on experience with therapy out of the group.
“Biweekly.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Yeah, he said as much.”
“How’s Chris?” Maddie asked again. It wasn’t demanding, it was still gentle, soft, comforting, motherly.
“My parents brought him to the lake. I haven’t heard from him in days. Please don’t ask me how that makes me feel.”
“I don’t need to.” Karen, then, she was crying. She would know how it feels, she’s been through it enough.
“You talked to Buck the other day? One on one?”
“Yeah.” How did Maddie know?
“You didn’t talk about your problems, just his.” So Buck had told Maddie everything. Buck was worried about him.
“He has enough going on.”
“He has a boyfriend and the same problems at work as you. If you’re battling a pity war, I think you win.”
“I’m not battling a pity war, it's just not his problem.”
“And Tommy’s yours?” Athena snorted.
Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. He’d already expressed his dislike for the man, especially his dislike of him dating Buck, but the way everyone was looking at him suggested they suspected something more.
“Tommy is bad for Buck and Buck is important to me.” Is what he finally settled on.
“If Tommy qualifies as your problem, Chris certainly qualifies as Buck’s.” Karen nodded before taking a long sip of wine.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Chris left you, but he also left Buck.” Maddie’s voice was quieter than before, and she was avoiding the gaze of everyone in the room. “There was a time Chris would go to Buck whenever he needed anything you couldn’t give him, and now Chris is in El Paso. He left.” Athena had reached over Eddie’s lap to lightly rub Maddie’s arm. “Did you really think it wouldn’t affect him?”
“Buck has Tommy.”
“Tommy isn’t you.”
What was that supposed to mean? Tommy was Buck’s boyfriend, his partner. You go to your partner when you need support, therefore Tommy should be the one to support Buck, not Eddie. It just made sense.
“If Buck really wants to talk to me he should just ask.”
The statement, much to Eddie’s surprise, caused a groan to emanate from the group. The three women all took large drinks from their glasses and shared a look before Maddie addressed Eddie.
“You and Buck share a similar problem with talking to each other.”
“We talk all the time.” Eddie argued. It was once true.
“Not about you. From what I can tell, the only time you talk about your relationship with Buck is when you absolutely have to.”
“Buck can talk to me whenever he’s ready, then.”
“Let’s hope one of you is ready before it’s too late.”
The twenty-first picture Eddie took was of a flat tire, specifically his.
Frank wanted to know what he was up to for two weeks? Frank wanted proof Eddie could be patient? Well here it is! Eddie waited two hours for roadside assistance to arrive and get him a new tire through rush hour traffic in LA. Eddie had spent too much of that time on the phone being yelled at by Captain Gerrard for lacking common sense and burdening the rest of the team while he waited.
For how miserable Eddie was sitting on the side of the road listening to traffic, the whole situation failed to put a damper on his good mood. Christopher (and Eddie’s parents) would be returning from the lake the next day, which meant Chris was more likely to respond, which Eddie wanted more than the world.
Work was fine, relatively speaking. Eddie got chewed out by Gerrard when they got back from their call and worked as (almost normal). Chimney said he got an email about one of his complaints, so spirits were running about as high as they could. Despite Eddie’s confusion over his wine night/intervention the night before, he and Buck still worked perfectly in tandem as they helped college students out of an elevator and car crash victims out of their vehicles.
At the end of their 24 hours, Hen and Chim were the ones to bring up the bar. To be fair, Eddie hadn’t ended up too drunk at wine night, he had left within an hour of arriving and remained sober enough to drive, only downing a beer when he got home and collapsing into bed. They had all been a little surprised when Buck joined them immediately.
“You don’t have something going on with Tommy tonight?” Hen chuckled.
“I don’t have a date every night. It’s not like we live together.”
“Your love life is busier than mine, and I’m married with kids!”
The twenty-second picture Eddie took was of Chimney singing karaoke.
So he had gotten drunk. Really drunk. They hadn’t gone to a badge and ladder bar, because Chim wanted to sing. The 118 had appeared on the news enough times that the information about who they were and what they did spread around the bar until they were about 11 rounds in and they’d only paid for 2.
Eddie was drunk enough to forget that he hadn’t told Buck about the camera, to forget he was self-conscious about it - right up until the point Buck noticed.
“Hey, I didn’t know you picked up a camera?”
Eddie froze. “Uh, yeah.” He almost lied, he almost told Buck he’d just decided to take up photography and Chimney was his latest subject. But Eddie was drunk, and he had trouble lying to Buck even when he was sober. “Frank gave it to me.”
“Ohhhh, therapy homework.” Buck was drunk too, possibly drunker than Eddie. Maybe he wouldn’t remember this.
“Yeah, therapy homework.”
Buck dropped a heavy hand onto Eddie’s shoulder and did his best to look into Eddie’s eyes. “Chris will be back soon.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Only ‘cause it’s true.”
Eddie slept through Saturday. Chris hadn’t texted. Eddie barely woke up to eat, and he certainly didn’t take any pictures. That left him 1 day - that he would spend most of at work - to take 5 more.
The twenty-third picture Eddie took was of Hen and Chim restocking the ambulance.
The twenty-fourth picture Eddie took was of the ladder truck just after they had cleaned it.
The twenty-fifth picture Eddie took was of Buck scowling at his cards in a game of B.S.
The twenty-sixth picture Eddie took was of himself in the bathroom mirror.
Eddie didn’t take the twenty-seventh picture.
He handed the camera to Ravi and gathered the remainder of the A team in the front of the bay, and smiled wide as the flash marked the end of his two-week assignment.
After the shift was over, Eddie went directly to the overnight photo store Frank had instructed him to go to. He approached the counter, placed the camera in front of him, and told the owner Frank had sent him. They said they’d take care of the rest.
“So I looked at your photos.” Was the first thing Frank said when Eddie sat down for his session.
“Alright.”
“Do you remember what you took pictures of?”
Well, Eddie was kind of hoping he wouldn’t be tested, because he certainly couldn’t remember every single photo. And there was that night he’d gotten wine drunk and woken up with a much lower number on the top of the camera than he had remembered the previous evening. Eddie was really hoping that he and Frank could go through the pictures together and he could be psychoanalyzed and get it over and done with.
“There was an iced coffee, some wine, a couple pictures of my friends. Oh, some jellyfish!” Eddie recited.
“What else?”
“A couple pictures of me. One was a mistake.”
This was clearly not the answer Frank was looking for. “Okay, Eddie. I think you missed the point of the assignment.”
“What? I was patient, I finished the film roll yesterday! I thought through every - alright almost every picture. I carried that thing around everywhere for two weeks!”
“One goal of this was to be patient, sure, but I also wanted you to be mindful of the pictures you were taking.”
“You didn’t say that.”
“It was implied when I told you you needed to be patient, I thought you understood, but I guess not. Tell me why you took this picture.” Frank held out a print of Eddie’s photo of the sunrise. Even without colors, it turned out well!
“I thought it looked cool. And I knew that’s something people take pictures of, you know?”
“Is it what you take pictures of?”
“Like on my phone?” Frank nodded. “Not usually. Usually I take photos of people.”
“Alright, so why are less than half of these photos of people?”
“You might have noticed, Frank, but I’m pretty alone right now.”
“But you’re not.” Eddie scoffed. “Eddie, Chris may be in Texas, but you’re not alone. You are spending time with people, you took photos to prove it,” Frank handed over some pictures Eddie vaguely recognized from wine night and the ones he had taken the day before. “I’m very curious about one picture, though. This one.” Frank held up Eddie’s eighth picture - the one of Buck walking out of the locker room.
“Why?”
“Why am I curious?”
“Yeah.”
“Other than Chris, Buck is the person closest to you.” Well that’s an interesting way to put it. “There aren’t many pictures of him here.”
“Buck has a boyfriend, we haven’t been hanging out as much.”
“Less than with previous partners?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Are they spending more time together than he did with previous partners?”
“I guess not.”
“So that’s on you.” Frank looked right into Eddie’s eyes as he said it. The words stung. As if Eddie would purposefully distance himself from Buck, why would he do that? Why was he doing that? When Eddie failed to respond, Frank continued. “I’m particularly curious about why the first picture you took of Buck, and one of the only pictures of him in the bunch, is of his back.”
Would it be too silly to say Eddie liked his ass? So what if it was true? It wasn’t the reason though. “I didn’t want him to know.”
“About what?”
“The camera. He knew I was in therapy and all, but I didn’t want him to know.”
“Why?”
“Because other than Chris, he’s the closest person I have.”
“So why would you care if he knew? Did you think he would judge you?”
“I think almost every picture would end up being him.”
Eddie spent the rest of the session avoiding saying what he knew to be true. Frank probably saw right through him anyway, said they should meet again in a week instead of two. Eddie spent the drive home skipping through every song in his playlist because none of the country music or hip hop he usually listened to felt remotely right. When he got home, he quickly found himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, the prints of his photos clutched in his hand.
Everything felt off, all of a sudden. Eddie had spent weeks and weeks knowing his life was off-kilter, off-track, just off. Now he felt it. Chris was gone, Eddie had a mustache, and Buck, who Eddie loved , was dating Tommy Kinard. Eddie could only fix one of those things.
It was gone before he really knew what he was doing. The hair in the sink and the razor on the counter told a story that ended with his mustache-free face.
The only problem now was that - try as Eddie Diaz, king of repression, might - you can’t wash feelings down the drain of a bathroom sink. Eddie could really use a wine night right about now.
Maddie Han
>>Are you at home?
Yeah<<
Everything ok???<<
>>I'll be there in an hour
Eddie made a stop on the way. That’s why he knew it would be about an hour. Maddie liked red wine, she had a favorite but Eddie couldn’t remember for the life of him what it was. That’s how he ended up at the liquor store closest to Maddie and Chim’s house describing her to the cashier and begging them to tell him what wine she liked because she’s “uhhhh. My sister in law.” Close enough.
$25 later and 15 minutes later, Eddie was pulling into the Buckley-Han driveway as he watched Chimney’s car drive off in the other direction. He held the wine in one hand while he rapped on the door with the knuckles of the other. Maddie opened the door a few seconds later.
“I brought wine.” Eddie mumbled once Maddie had closed the door behind them. “I think it’s your favorite?”
Maddie accepted the bottle. “I’ll get some glasses.”
“Did Chim take Jee-Yun and Mara? I don’t want to wake them.”
“Eddie, it's 6 pm. Howie took them out for TGI Fridays.”
“Oh, right.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No, not since lunch.”
“I’ll order some wings. You like chili garlic, right?”
Eddie nodded. Wings didn’t exactly pair well with pinot noir, not as far as he knew, but he suspected the bottle wouldn’t last until it arrived. Maddie tapped the order into her phone and ushered Eddie over to the living room.
“Whenever you’re ready,” she poured him a glass and placed it in his hand.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about the mustache?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”
“I don’t think I have to.”
Why else would Eddie spontaneously decide he needed to talk to Maddie, who he still barely knew, and bring wine along with him. He might as well have been asking for her blessing.
“I love him.”
“I know.” While Frank had always been a little cocky when Eddie realized yet another thing he had known all along, Maddie’s voice was full of nothing but care, reassurance, support.
“How bad is it that I only figured it out this afternoon?”
“I don’t know about bad, but it’s not surprising, not to me.”
“You knew before I did.”
“I’m very perceptive.”
“What do I do, Maddie? He has a boyfriend.”
“That we all hate.”
“He doesn’t hate him!”
“He doesn’t hate Taylor Kelly either, they didn’t date for forever.”
“So I should just wait until they fight?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Maddie, I came here for advice!”
“I can’t just tell you what to do!”
“Why not???”
“Remember when he got struck by lightning?”
“Vividly.”
“Remember after, when he was recovering in his loft? He wouldn’t let anyone take care of him so I started sending people over to check in.”
“And then he got fed up and went to my place.”
“Buck doesn’t like it when I meddle without him asking. He hasn’t asked me for advice with Tommy since he first came out to me.”
“So what do we do?”
“Nuh uh. Not we. You. ”
“Fine. What do I do?”
“Well you have two options in my opinion: you tell him you love him now, or you wait until things fall apart with Tommy.”
Eddie drove home before he got drunk. The text to Christopher was sent before he collapsed onto the couch.
Christopher Diaz
>>It's gone
The video call started three minutes later.
“It’s really gone????” Chris gasped into his phone, whisper-shouting. It was 9 in Texas, and it appeared Chris was in bed. That was Helena Diaz’s overprotective nature for you.
“It is!” Eddie tried to sound excited, but he was drained from the events of the day. “I said you’d be the first person I told.” It was technically true, he didn’t tell Maddie. It was also probably a good thing he didn’t text his son in the middle of a mental spiral - he was near the end now.
“You look like yourself again.”
“Not like Garfield?”
“Not like Garfield. You never really looked like Garfield, you just looked weird.”
Eddie chuckled. “Thanks for that, mijo. How was the lake?”
“It was fine.”
“Fine? You go to the best lake in the world for a whole week and all you have to say is ‘It was fine?’”
“I forgot how Grandma can get.”
“What do you mean?”
“She wouldn’t let me swim unless she was right there. ”
Of course. “Did you tell her you go surfing?”
“And that I survived a tsunami!”
“Alright, maybe don’t mention that next time. But you didn’t have any fun?”
“Abuelo set up a campfire for us on Wednesday. We made s’mores.”
“Well next time maybe we can go together. I’ll tell you all about my summers on the lake and we’ll build a campfire every night and we’ll have fun.”
“Can Buck be there?”
This kid - “We’d have to ask him, but I can’t imagine he’d say no if you asked.” Eddie grinned, thinking of it. “You know, Buck is still very excited to bring you to Disneyland when you get back, whenever that may be.”
“You say that like you didn’t go to Universal without me. ” Chris raised an accusatory eyebrow.
“Hey! I did not go to Universal Studios. Where did you see that?”
“Buck’s instagram.”
Oh. Right. “I wasn’t there, Chris, I promise. Buck only went because Tommy took him.”
“Ugh.”
“Yeah. Ugh.”
“I thought you liked Tommy?”
“Liked. Previously.”
“So it’s just ‘cause he’s dating Buck?”
“What? No. It’s not just that. Why would you ask that?”
“You never like anyone Buck dates.” Eddie was going to respond but was interrupted by - “And he never likes anyone you date.”
“How do you know this?”
“Oh come on, Dad, you’re not subtle.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Feigning ignorance it was, then.
“You love him. The way you loved Mom. Maybe even more.”
Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, Chris, I do. Is that okay?”
“As long as you do something about it.”
The call ended. Chris had hung up. Chris had said the last sentence with a smirk on his face and a glimmer in his eye. Chris had sent a message.
Christopher Diaz
Give me confirmation and I'll be on the first plane to LA<<
It was decided then.
Eddie didn’t hesitate until he reached Buck’s door. Did he knock? Did he use his key and barge right in, taking Buck’s face in his hands and kiss him until his lips hurt too much to keep going? The decision was made for him when Tommy Kinard swung the door open, nearly barreled into him, and scoffed.
“Of course you’re here. What, he called you when the yelling started, make it two against one?”
“Yelling?” For a man that felt desperately tired and emotionally drained not a minute before, Eddie sure could be intimidating when he wanted to be. He gritted the word through his teeth as he glared daggers into the taller man’s eyes, pushing his way past to get into the apartment.
Buck stood frozen by the kitchen island, glancing between the two. He didn’t move nor say anything as Tommy left swiftly and heavy-footed down the hall. Eddie watched Tommy go, closing the door carefully behind him then rushing to Buck.
“What happened, did he hurt you?” Eddie scanned Buck for signs of a physical fight.
“What? No. We were just arguing.”
“It looked intense, are you okay?”
“I told you, it wasn’t physical.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt you.” Eddie caught Buck’s eyes, the tears welling up against the ring of blue.
Buck broke then, grasping his arms around and up Eddie’s back, burying his face in Eddie’s neck.
“Shhh.” Eddie embraced Buck, slowly circling his hand on Buck’s back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It wasn’t even that bad.” Buck laughed through his tears. “I decided it was time I was honest, tell him that I wasn’t really enjoying our dates, that he wasn’t listening to me, that I just wanted more give and less take -” A sob broke through him.
“I know that’s hard for you, I’m proud you told him.”
“It shouldn’t have been a big thing, I thought I was walking into a civil conversation, not a fight. The gist of it is that we had very different ideas of what this relationship was and where it was going. He had some, uh, complaints about me, too.”
“Well I wouldn’t listen to a word he says.” Eddie drew back to look Buck in the eyes.
“I don’t have to anymore - we broke up.”
“Is it too soon to say ‘good?’”
Buck laughed. Really laughed - like himself, not a forced gasp through sad tears but a hearty thing. “I’m glad you’re happy with all this, at least someone is.”
“I am not happy with all of this. But at least he’s gone.”
“I didn’t call you.” The revelation, a whisper into Eddie’s ear, came minutes later. It made Eddie draw back, almost releasing Buck, holding on by their fingertips, barely intertwined.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Then why are you here?” Buck was no longer crying, but his voice was still thick with his tears.
“I - I needed to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie swallowed.
“I hated Tommy.”
“Uh, I know? You haven’t been very subtle lately.”
“I hated Natalia. And Taylor, and Ali, and Abby.”
“Okay?”
“I hated them because they were with you.”
“Eddie?”
“I hated them because they had you and I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Buck’s eyes glanced down to Eddie’s lips, then went wide. “Your mustache!”
“I got rid of it.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“It didn’t feel like me. I was pretending to be someone else. Someone who had a handle on their life.”
“I was kind of wondering what it would feel like.” Buck smiled shyly. “But this’ll have to do.” He closed the distance between them, pressing his mouth into Eddie’s and sliding one hand through Eddie’s hair. It went on for what felt like a perfect forever and an instant. Buck drew back slowly, a giddy smile plastered across his face. “My sister’s going to kill me.”
“Oh really?” Eddie, soft eyed and drunk on Buck’s lips smirked back. “I think she might buy me dinner for this.” And they were back on each other.
It was just kissing that night, which was enough for Eddie. It was enough for Buck, too. They woke up in their day clothes, tangled in each other’s limbs on Buck’s bed. Buck was awake first, but had apparently made no effort to move, staring fondly at Eddie when he eventually woke. Eddie thought he was dreaming at first, before Buck’s very real lips met his.
“It’s a good thing we don’t have work today.” Buck whispered. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off of you.”
“You’d better not.” Eddie grinned and fumbled for his phone. “I know someone in Texas who needs some proof.”
“You used me?” Buck faux-gasped, but couldn’t hide the enormous smile that spread on his face. “Is he really coming home?”
Eddie snapped a selfie of Buck pressing a kiss to his blushing cheek and sent it off to Chris. The response was near-immediate.
Christopher Diaz
Delta 2531 - 1:05 MDT takeoff<<
I need you to buy the ticket<<
Eddie sent him the boarding pass 15 minutes later.
Buck came with him to the airport. They waited hand in hand at the baggage claim as Chris’s plane was scheduled to land, grinning at each other like smitten teenagers.
“I have to go to the bathroom real quick.” Buck pecked Eddie’s cheek before leaving him alone to scan the descending escalator for Chris. He returned a few minutes later, but instead of pressing his hand back into Eddie’s, something hard and plastic was placed in his palm.
Eddie looked down to find a familiar shape - a yellow and black camera with the number 27 in the shot counter.
The twenty-eighth picture Eddie took was of Chris barrelling through the baggage claim towards him on his crutches. He would be happy to tell you it was his favorite.