Chapter Text
It probably shouldn’t have felt as warm and fuzzy as it did, but something about seeing their family come together for one of their own was special. It hadn’t even been long since they’d all done the same for Hen, all finding ways to support her through her diagnosis and make sure that even when she couldn’t work, she was still part of the family. Sure, towards the end of her sabbatical she began to pull away and wasn’t keeping up with their plans to keep her on track for her health, but that’s what her family was for. To notice when things weren’t working anymore and to find a new path.
So as they all migrated around the house, putting things back where they belonged after their collective sweep of the premises, it all felt familiar. Most of them were out of their depth, sure, but it didn’t feel so daunting knowing they were all in it together.
As she worked on rearranging Buck’s kitchen, a very important task, Hen couldn’t help but glance at the window where Buck sat across from Chris, their game of cards sitting abandoned between them. The pair seemed to be chatting and, if the soft smile on the older man’s face was anything to go by, Eddie had been right.
They’d all expressed their concern when Eddie pulled up at the house with Christopher in tow, not sure whether this process would be something a kid his age should see. That, plus they all knew how much Buck adored Chris and it probably wouldn’t be easy for the boy to see him like that.
But Eddie had insisted. Hadn’t even entertained anyone else’s arguments, actually, but rather went right inside like he knew exactly what he was doing.
After searching the house and seeing them together…there was no argument to the contrary. They’d acted like Buck was something shameful, that a fifteen-year-old kid couldn’t possibly understand. As if Buck was a bad influence, despite the fact that she was certain Eddie had explained to his son that Buck had asked them all for help. Eddie had mentioned something about checking in on Buck repeatedly for weeks and getting shrugged off every time, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to think Chris knew even more than the rest of them did.
But regardless, Eddie had been right. Chris was an impressionable teenager, sure, but what better example to set than the proof that when you make a mistake, when you make bad, dangerous choices, all you have to do is ask for help and your family will be there by your side to get through it together. He needed to see that Buck wasn’t going to do this alone anymore.
She had worked in pharmaceuticals for years before becoming a paramedic, she was well aware of the fact that anyone could fall victim to opioid abuse regardless of a history of addiction. Witnessing all this had honestly given her some time to think about what subjects might be worth broaching with her own kids, just so that if they ever got to an age where they started experimenting with substances, or god forbid, found themselves faced with heavy duty prescription medications, they would know the risks and precautions to keep them safe.
Seeing a man she loved like a little brother go through all of this was hard enough, and there were no good excuses for why she shouldn’t take every precaution necessary to ensure nothing like this ever happened to anyone else that she loved.
After a few moments of thinking as she worked, occasionally broken up with glances at the two boys in the backyard, she watched Eddie migrate onto the back patio from where he had previously been re-organizing the garage. He immediately approached Buck, an arm sliding around the older man’s shoulders as he stood behind his chair. Buck seemed to relax a little at the gesture, no longer sitting rigid as if he was about to be chastised.
Hen watched as the trio made conversation, with Chris gesturing to the deck of cards and Buck laughing a bit at what she could only guess was him telling his dad that Buck had lost. Buck seemingly protested a bit before ultimately admitting defeat as Eddie’s other hand found his hair. The brunet made a gesture towards the house, looking at his son, who shrugged and ultimately moved to wheel back inside leaving the two men alone on the patio.
She was almost caught watching, holding her breath in anticipation for what could potentially happen, when she heard the familiar sound of a wheelchair entering the kitchen.
“How’s it going?” The young boy asked as he approached. He grabbed a nearby cabinet and looked inside before nodding approvingly at the arrangement of the pots and pans.
Hen shrugged, “Good, I hope. I’m no expert though, I just hope everything’s where it’s supposed to be even if it doesn’t look pretty.”
The teen didn’t say anything in response, which Hen didn’t exactly question. She could barely get Denny to set aside his teenage moodiness to answer simple questions like “how was school?” these days, so it wasn’t surprising that Chris wasn’t particularly chatty given everything going on. Instead, he rolled past her towards the fridge, retrieving two bottles of Gatorade.
“Lemon lime,” she pointed out, trying to make conversation. “That’s my favorite too.”
Chris looked down at the bottles in his lap.
“It’s yellow,” he countered. “Nobody calls Gatorade by the flavor, you call it by the color.”
Well, she supposed he wasn’t wrong. It was the classic argument in the station whenever someone did the grocery run and didn’t just get the variety pack to keep the peace. Ravi was particularly adamant that red was for flavor, orange was for dehydration, yellow was for exercise, and blue was for refreshment. She still wasn’t sure what that all meant, but they’d all learned not to argue. Apparently the team’s mentality of using variety packs to keep the peace extended into Buck’s fridge.
“Can’t argue with that.”
She tried to go back to what she was doing, assuming Chris would head back outside, but instead the boy rolled back over to the sliding patio doors and just…watched. Hen supposed it was the same view over there as she had in the kitchen window, so she glanced outside as well and saw that Eddie had pulled Chris’ chair around to sit right beside Buck and was letting Buck fidget with one of his hands while they talked.
“This is nice,” Chris spoke up again, surprising the older woman. “Everybody’s helping him.”
She nodded before she could come up with something worthwhile to say.
“‘Course we are,” she ultimately answered. “That’s what families do, when someone feels alone. You make sure they know we’re all in this together.”
The kid nodded once more, hands smearing the condensation on the outside of his drink bottles. By then, Maddie and Chim had seemingly migrated into the living room, having finished up in the bedroom down the hallway. They, too, grabbed the pitcher of water in the fridge and poured themselves a couple glasses.
“My family isn’t like that,” he mumbled, bitter in that way that so many teenagers are once they learn the reality of the world. “Not my dad, but…the rest.”
She’d heard rumblings about Eddie’s parents over the years, despite the man himself being apparently resistant to saying anything negative about them, regardless of how warranted. Buck in particular seemed to have strong feelings, but even on their road trip home from visiting Austin many years ago now, Hen had elected to take a raincheck on stopping in El Paso when Buck went to meet Eddie’s parents. She loved a bit of gossip, but Eddie never really gave her much worth prying into so she really had no way of guessing what there even was to know.
“Your dad’s a good one,” she smiled softly across the small room. “He didn’t let them stop him from caring about others, that’s for sure.”
Chris glanced back down at his hands, fidgeting just like Buck was outside.
“Thank you guys,” he mumbled as if the words were drenched in guilt. “For doing this for him when I left.”
And just like that, she froze. Without even looking, she could tell that Maddie and Chim had done the same on the other side of the island.
“What do you mean?” She asked hesitantly.
“When I went to Texas,” Chris elaborated. “He wasn’t alone ‘cause you guys showed up for him. I…I was worried he was all alone, but…thank you.”
Oh.
Her hands felt clammy around the utensils she was sorting.
This…this was wrong.
Surely they hadn’t.
There was no way they just…didn’t even try.
They had over half a year before Eddie left for El Paso, months that they could’ve spent making sure he wasn’t alone in that big empty house, watching his world fall apart around him. His worst nightmare being realized, getting worse day by day with no end in sight.
And they all just…didn’t do anything.
She didn’t even have the words to begin to explain the truth, glancing to the couple across the kitchen who looked equally guilty.
They’d all just gotten comfortable. That first incident, nearly a decade ago now, Eddie had been buried alive and Buck was the only one trying to move Heaven and Earth to get to him while the rest of them, albeit realistically, hadn’t thought there was any hope. It had made sense in the aftermath, when Buck looked seconds away from biting the heads off of anyone who dared to separate them, hovering throughout the subsequent pneumonia and mild hypothermia that Eddie was left with, until they all moved on.
At some point over the years, they all just collectively decided that Eddie was Buck’s responsibility. Every crisis, every injury, they all just decided that Buck would take care of him and nobody else needed to worry.
None of them even went to his welcome home party when he was released from the hospital after being shot.
It wasn’t even that they didn’t show up for the hard parts, they weren’t even there for the easy ones either. The celebrations, the milestones, the good days in between the horrors. Hell, it took years before Eddie sheepishly admitted that his birthday was the day after Buck’s and that he’d kept his mouth shut for years because he didn’t want to make a fuss. That he usually just had dinner at home with Chris and Buck and was perfectly happy.
And they all just…accepted it.
“We love your dad,” Maddie’s soft voice spoke up from across the silent space. The slight tremors of anxiety were well-hidden, but not imperceptible. “He knows he’s always got someone in his corner.”
And that much was true.
He always had Buck.
Even when Buck was preoccupied with his relationships or dealing with a crisis of his own, he always made time for Eddie. For better or worse, like bringing his girlfriend that Eddie hated into his house and making him cook dinner for them, or bringing his boyfriend to the world’s most depressing virtual birthday party and flirting while Eddie’s world came crashing down around him.
But Buck always tried. Eddie was always worth the effort to him, and even still, he always acted like it was nothing. As if they were all doing him a favor by unofficially making him the one they all relied on for their Eddie Updates, rather than going to check on him themselves.
Much to the adults’ luck, Chris took that moment to head outside, handing Buck the second Gatorade, only for both of them to ultimately hand the bottles to Eddie, who opened each one with an exasperated smile.
“Fuck,” she swore under her breath without even realizing it. Her hands braced the countertop, head hanging. “How did we fuck up so bad?”
The other two didn’t say anything.
“It wasn’t just us either,” Chim sighed heavily. “I mean, I’d have to check, but I don’t think the others were showing up for him either.”
Even Bobby, who was generally much better than most when it came to showing up for Eddie, had been preoccupied with the new house and trying to get his job back. All Hen could recall was a brief conversation she had with Chim where they had questioned where the hell Eddie’s mustache had come from. They probably would’ve known if they’d checked in on him even once, and seen the way he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror. And yet they all, even Bobby, just spent months making jokes about how ridiculous it looked as if it wasn’t a weak excuse for Eddie to cling onto something he could control.
“Just Buck,” Maddie mumbled, sniffling. “God, he should hate us.”
No, that wasn’t it. Eddie was the type to accept literal dirt and still wholeheartedly believe it was better than he deserved.
“But he won’t,” her husband finished.
It even started to make sense why Buck was always making comments about knowing Eddie so much better than any of them. It was a common debate for years over whether Hen and Chim or Buck and Eddie made a better pair of best friends, and she had always dismissed the question, but she didn’t really know.
She wasn’t sure she really even knew Eddie.
With Buck, she could name all sorts of interests he had, hobbies, favorite places, favorite tv shows and movies, favorite music, all things she had learned over the years. Some had been freely offered up, whereas some required enough patience to sit through a post-Wikipedia binge rant about whatever new subject he was into, but she knew enough.
It wasn’t even until her diagnosis that she even found out Eddie liked to dance. It shouldn’t have even been surprising either, the man was constantly moving around the station with a bit of a swing in his step, graceful and smooth on his feet in a way that should’ve been obvious if she’d just asked him a question about it.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever even had an actual conversation with him,” Maddie added guiltily. “One to one, I mean. He’s Buck’s favorite person in the world and I haven’t even tried to get to know him.”
“It’s no wonder this is all happening, actually,” Chim said. “Buck’s been carrying all this for so long. He must have noticed. He notices basically everything about Eddie, but he hasn’t said anything. He just…keeps showing up until he’s got nothing left to give. And no one’s sharing the load.”
Because fucking up with Eddie meant fucking up with Buck too.
“He’s the only one who noticed,” Hen added. “He mentioned it a couple times at work—showing up to check on Buck. He came over a few times, sometimes with Chris and sometimes on his own.” The others, seemingly unsurprised, nodded in tandem. “From what I remember, Buck came to the door close to half of the time. Eddie said he wasn’t always sure if Buck was home and just ignoring him or if he actually wasn’t there, but that he was scared.”
Her voice cracked, a pitiful, desperate thing. The guilt spilling out unbidden.
“He said Buck never shuts him out,” she continued. “Never. And yet, I couldn’t fathom the possibility that they just…aren’t like us. They’re different from the rest of us, they know each other better.” No one dared to argue a point they all knew was true. “He asked for help and we—“ She cut herself off. “I told him it was nothing. I told him to just give Buck some space, but he knew.”
The devotion that the pair had towards each other–it went far beyond any romantic speculation that Hen and the others could bet on. They were the exact definition of a family that the rest of them claimed to be, and yet clearly didn’t measure up. They supported each other no matter what they were dealing with in their own lives, protected each other in the face of any danger, and most of all, they always made time and effort for each other.
Meanwhile the rest of them couldn’t even be bothered to even pay attention.
It took months before Eddie decided he couldn’t take it anymore and moved to Texas. Months spent all alone in his empty house with no one who even cared to ask how he was doing. No one but Buck.
Buck, who was trying to take his new relationship seriously, Buck who was figuring himself out all over again, Buck who still made time for his family when they needed him.
It was so easy to dive head first when Buck asked for help, when he took the step himself and admitted he couldn’t do this on his own. He made it easy for them, there were steps they could follow, everyone chipped in so nobody’s lives were uprooted, and they all made a plan together.
But before that, Eddie saw the signs. He didn’t need Buck to ask for help, he was paying attention. He saw the minute differences too, not just the glaring red flags. It was no surprise that Buck saw Eddie’s too, once upon a time. The silent cry for help.
Just as Hen was about to speak up, maybe even to make a plan to make things right, the sliding door squeaked open again and there they were.
“You guys heading out?” Maddie spoke up, thankfully, seeing as Hen couldn’t open her mouth without guilt spilling out. At least not yet.
“Chris has robotics club,” Eddie sighed fondly, shepherding the teen out the door despite his clear resistance. He kept glancing back at Buck, eyes meeting over Eddie’s shoulder, but ultimately he didn’t fight it. “I’m just dropping him off and coming right back.”
Buck hovered at arms length, clearly not ready to let anyone go just yet as he watched the Diaz boys wave goodbye to them all before heading outside.
Hen and the others peered from the windows as Buck followed the pair outside, helping Chris into the passenger seat before folding his wheelchair and passing it to Eddie to load into the backseat. Their conversation was silent to everyone inside the house, but she couldn’t help but watch as Eddie’s hand settled on Buck’s shoulder, ducking his head a little to fit underneath the blond’s downturned gaze with a gentle smile. He spoke something that looked like soon before Buck repeated the word back to him with a nod, making Eddie smile as he let go and climbed into the car.
He stood there as Eddie pulled out of the driveway, hands in his hoodie pocket until they turned down the street and he waved just a little. The moment Eddie’s truck disappeared around a corner, his shoulders deflated like all the life left inside him had died.
The front door opened like a heavy sigh, old bones of the house creaking before falling silent as Buck turned and gently shut the door behind him. His hand flipped the lock before he leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the painted wood and taking a deep, exhausted breath. Like the moment Eddie left his side, the weight of the world took his place.
“You wanna’ lay down?” Maddie offered, appearing at his side with a gentle smile. Her hands hovered around him, not wanting to overwhelm, but knowing he needed at least something to keep him from drifting unmoored.
Buck shook his head, turning away and retrieving a mug from the coffee table that he’d abandoned a couple hours ago in a fit of nausea, one he’d bought from the LA Zoo after one of his many outings with the Diaz boys.
Hen couldn’t help but notice the logo, feeling yet another pang of guilt at the thought of all the ways they made time for each other that no one else had participated in. Luckily the phone in her pocket pinged before she could be too obvious.
“Athena’s wondering if you prefer the Pedialyte drinks or the popsicles,” she asked, leaning against the counter as Buck reheated his tea in the microwave. “She says they have tropical, coconut, or fruit punch. The popsicles are a variety pack.”
He leaned his head against the upper cabinets, hands gripping the counter.
“I thought it was ridiculous that Eddie was whining about not being picked to do the grocery run,” Buck grumbled under his breath with a heavy sigh. “He said he could do it, but ‘Thena insisted she would handle it.”
Hen’s brow furrowed.
“We’re all handling this together, honey,” she confusedly countered. “I know he wants to help however he can, but there’s a lot of things to do and–”
“I appreciate it,” he cut her off. “I didn’t mean it like that, I…I appreciate everything you guys are doing.” His head dropped, short curls hanging off his forehead as he sniffled. Hen was sure his head was spinning with overstimulation and general ache, the mid stages of detox still coursing through his system, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him to stop and lay down. Buck already had enough of his control taken away for the time being, if he needed her to be patient, she could do that for him. “I’m not used to letting everyone in like this.”
She hummed, not wanting to interrupt if he still had more to say.
“After the lightning strike…I know everyone was coming to visit and everyone was worried about me, and…I thought it was unbearable just having one person at a time–” he huffed a humorless laugh. “I snuck out and went to Eddie’s ‘cause I couldn’t handle being smothered.”
“And Eddie doesn’t smother you?” She asked, mostly teasing but genuinely unsure now, given how their recent revelation had made her rethink everything she knew about the pair.
Buck shook his head, a fond smile peeking out for a brief moment before being washed away by exhaustion.
“No, he does,” the blond sighed. “It’s just different. We smother each other, I guess. He lets me do it for him, so I guess it’s only fair.”
The weight sank in her gut. Yeah, Eddie let him because if Buck didn’t take care of him, no one else was going to. Clearly they’d all done a shit job at that.
“He know your Pedialyte order too?” She teased, hoping to bring that smile back even just for a moment.
But the answer she got was honest.
“He knows everything.” The words were spoken quietly but rattled her like booming bass speakers. “Just you wait…he’s gonna’ come back with peach mango Pedialyte, Saladitas, and the strongest mint gum in the world. He’s gonna’ drive fifteen minutes out of the way for the Saladitas, but he knows they’re better than saltines when you can’t keep anything down. The CVS near Chris’ school is the only one for twenty miles that has the peach mango flavor, plus the right gum.”
And in a way, her strategy worked because Buck had the biggest smile she’d seen on him in days by the time he finished his rambling. Still stifled by aches, but it was a proper smile. Even the rambling itself was a good sign that the Buck they knew and loved was still in there somewhere. Sure, he was weary and worn down by the world, exhausted and aching, but still Buck.
“So just tell ‘Thena I don’t need anything special, as long as she gets some sour skittles,” Buck added with a huff, shaking his head as he collected his mug from the microwave and sighed contentedly. He turned to head back to his bedroom, shuffling across the hardwood in his slippers, but Hen took one glance at the rest of the group in the living room and solidified what she was considering.
They had all heard that spiel.
“Buck,” Maddie interrupted before he got too far down the hallway. “C’mere, I think…I think we all need to talk about something.”
His hazy eyes were confused, immediately shrinking in on himself with the obvious assumption that this was about him, which was understandable, but Hen crossed the room to his side before he felt too targeted.
“Did I do something?” He asked nervously, clutching his mug like it was a shield. “I’m sorry, I–I know this is already a lot and, and I shouldn’t—” He glanced at Hen. “I appreciate what you guys are doing, I didn’t mean to make it seem like Eddie is the only one who—”
“It’s about Eddie, actually.”
Buck froze, brow furrowed.
“W-what?”
“Chris…said something earlier, while you guys were outside,” Hen started, gesturing for Buck to sit on the couch as Maddie and Chim filled in the spaces around them. “I think it threw all of us for a loop, but it’s important. We fucked up.”
He sank into the couch cushions, shoulders pulled in tight.
“What did we do?” The blond nervously asked. “‘m sorry.”
Maddie choked on a little cry, pressing her hand to her lips as Chim reached over and placed a hand on Buck’s knee.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured him. “Not even close, we just…we need to apologize to you too. For putting so much on your shoulders all these years.”
His bleary gaze darted from person to person before settling on Hen for answers.
“Chris came up to me earlier and thanked us for being there for you,” she started, gaze downcast on her fidgeting hands. “And for looking out for his dad while he was in Texas.”
Recognition wasn’t immediate, so Hen continued.
“He said he was worried about what Eddie would do, all alone in their house, but that after seeing how we all came together for you…” A heavy sigh paused her words, purely stalling and she couldn’t even hide it. “He said he was glad that we were there for him.”
“But we weren’t,” Chim added, leg bouncing nervously. “We…we didn’t even try. We all knew what was happening, he didn’t hide anything, we just…let you handle it.”
“Oh.”
Buck had been on the sickly side of pale for days now, but his lips still held onto that cherry red color as he chewed nervously on them, pinching his eyes shut. His own hands were shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, arms wrapped tight around himself to boot.
“None of you…?” He asked, unspecific but clear. “Not…but—but you didn’t change everything, right?” The trio glanced between one another, which Buck took as a sign to continue. “You didn’t stop inviting him to things, right? He still…I wasn’t even there as much as I should’ve been, I—I had Tommy and—I thought…you guys shut him out?”
His shaky voice was like a knife right to the heart, twisting with each bit of doubt that unraveled in the silence.
“We didn’t shut him out,” his brother-in-law continued. “We just…didn’t make a place for him to begin with.”
The silence hung for a moment, tense and delicate.
“No,” Buck ultimately spoke up, pushing himself up from the sofa. “No, absolutely not.”
He shook his head stubbornly, heading for the hallway and leaving the other three sat there confused and worried until he spun around on his heel.
“You can’t possibly be telling me—” he gestured erratically around him. “That you’ve all just, what? Let him coexist with us? For years? He’s our family—he’s my family.”
Maddie’s previous silent tears had begun to fall at full force. None of them knew what to do.
He wasn’t wrong, after all.
“I don't know how I couldn't see it,” Buck huffed, pacing around the open space. “You…none of you were there after he got shot.” He phrased it like a question, but they all knew the answer. “I threw him a welcome home party—Taylor Kelly showed up for him, but none of you did!”
Fuck, that one stung. Hen didn’t have to look at the other two to know that it was a particularly low point to even consider the idea that someone as selfish and insensitive as Taylor Kelly, who had done so much to endanger their family over the years, still made an effort to show up for one of their own when the rest of them fell short.
“He loves you guys,” the blond continued, his voice hoarse and wavering. “He…do you guys not care?”
It was so genuine. That was the worst part, he was legitimately asking, as if there was a chance the answer could be no. But she couldn’t even blame him. They’d all done a pretty shitty job of showing it over the years. Buck’s mention of the sniper incident had been a staggering blow, something she hadn’t thought about in years, but…that was just it, wasn’t it?
For her, for all of them, they didn’t think about these things once they were over and done with. They didn’t see the scars that still remained, the fragments that infiltrated their lives, the reminders all around them. And when they did see them…they chose not to look closer.
Only a few months earlier, they’d all sent Eddie into a hostage situation with a shooter and none of them even questioned whether anyone else could’ve taken his place. They all just expected him to do it anyway, to grin and bear it and do his job without complaint. And he did it, because that was what he always did. He didn’t ask for more than what was given, he insisted he could get by on the bare minimum, turned a blind eye to all the cracks in the foundation, and just kept his head down. They let him do it when they knew better.
For all they preached about asking for help, about being there for each other, they didn’t follow through. Sure, he didn’t ask for it, but then why was Buck always there anyway? Why did he always figure it out without needing to be told? Why was he the only one who saw the red flags for what they were?
“Of course we care,” Hen spoke up. “We’re a family, that’s…that’s what we do.”
But even Buck could see just how little she believed her own words as he sniffled.
“Are we?”
His voice, already raspy from days of vomiting, was so pained and so shaky as he made no effort to hide the fact that he was barely holding back from anger.
“Are we a family? Or do we all just pick favorites? Do we all pick and choose who gets to be helped, who gets a shoulder to cry on, who gets someone to help them back on their feet and who has to find their way back on their own?” Snot poured from his congested nose, red-rimmed eyes wild as he sniffled, hands shaking with a dreadful combination of withdrawal from the two things that helped him cope: his pills and his family. “If I had known—” He cut himself off. “If I’d noticed.”
He ultimately gave into the discomfort and inched closer to the living room to snatch a tissue from the coffee table before ultimately backing away from the trio immediately afterwards. Like he couldn’t stand to be near them.
“You’ve…you’ve always been there for me,” Buck continued, desperate, almost begging. “Always, even when I did something stupid, even when I deserved to fix it on my own, you helped me.” With his mug long abandoned on the table, he glanced longingly at it, aching for some relief for his discomfort but not wanting to stop his train of thought. “At first, I thought…I thought you were just upset by what he did.”
As far as Hen was concerned, they had no legs to stand on. Yeah, she could imagine Chris was more than a little bit hurt by what his father had done, to bring a woman to their home, who was the spitting image of his dead mother, and then to bring his girlfriend into the mix too? She’d been upset just hearing about it. It didn’t sound like something Eddie would’ve done, sure, but it was done regardless.
She’d never pressed for details.
“He didn’t want her there, he knew it wasn’t right, he tried to cut it off with her. I told him he needed to be honest with her, so he told her everything. About Shannon, about how it ended and how he couldn’t let go of all the things he never said to her,” Buck rambled on, his movements only getting more frantic as the stress and anger clearly got to him. “He tried to do the right thing and she…she came to his house dressed like Shannon and he was scared and—” the deep, shaky breath did nothing to calm him down, but he tried. “It was never supposed to happen.”
Oh.
Oh, they fucked up.
“But I…I told myself you guys had every right to be upset,” he continued, a small, hysterical chuckle interrupting his tirade. “That he’d done a shitty thing to his kid and his girlfriend, of course people were mad at him. But no!” He turned to look at each of them with wild red eyes. “No, you never even cared to know what happened! It wasn’t about Eddie being in the wrong, it wasn’t about wanting to support Chris’ decision, you just didn’t fucking care!”
“We do care, we just didn’t—” Chim, bless him, tried to help, but he was immediately cut off and shut down.
“You didn’t! You weren’t even paying attention!” Buck interrupted. “Everything with Gerrard—he was just trying to protect himself and you…we all pushed him to fight back with us. I knew what was going on and I still did it. I knew he was struggling, I knew he was sitting at home alone every night, missing his kid like crazy, and I–” A sharp, cruel laugh burst out. “Do you even know how many nights I spent terrified he was gonna’ kill himself? Because that kid is his whole world and Chris is the only reason he crawled out of that depression the first time, but I thought…I stupidly hoped that someone else—anyone else—had enough foresight to worry about him.”
The silence hung heavy in the air between them. They should’ve known better. It was the LAFD’s biggest open secret that passive suicidality was a huge red flag to look out for. If it wasn’t the lung cancer or alcoholism that killed their comrades, it was suicide. They saw some of the worst things imaginable, enough to scar anyone for life, and being able to recognize the warning signs of someone grappling with their own will to live was not taken lightly. And yet.
“I knew better, he actually talked to me, he talked to me out of everyone, and I…” he paused, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “I went out with Tommy. I took his friend away from him, I stopped coming by for family dinners and movie nights because it wouldn’t be the same without Chris, I was mad because Chris wouldn't answer my texts and calls either. I brought my fucking asshole boyfriend to the virtual birthday party he tried to throw because his kid turned fourteen without him. I sat there and flirted and had fun and left him to sit there and be chastised by his mother for trying.”
Maddie, ultimately, was the one who got up out of her seat and crossed the room to her brother’s side, reaching out for him only to be ignored, “Evan—”
“No—” he rejected her touch, waving her hand away. “I—I love you guys, okay? And…I can’t even begin to explain how much it means to me that you’re supporting me through this when I probably…don’t deserve it, but,” Buck paused, taking his first actual deep breath as he let his desperate energy settle. “But I think you should leave.”
The trio all reared back, startled by his request as they all looked at each other in confusion.
“Leave?” Hen repeated, confused. “Buck, we can’t—”
“When Eddie gets back, I want you all to leave. Tell ‘Thena she can forget about the groceries, or leave them on the porch, I don’t care. I’ll…I’ll text May and Harry and Ravi and tell ‘em not to worry about coming over tomorrow.” The confidence in his words was what really shook them. Buck, who usually clung to every bit of doting care he could get, was pushing them away and he didn’t look even the slightest bit conflicted about it. “Thank you all for everything, seriously, I love you all…so much, but I can’t sit here and act like it’s fair. I don’t want help that’s only offered to me. When I’ve been hurt, when I’ve been sick…you’ve always made time for me and I will always appreciate that, but I just can’t. I can’t pretend like it isn’t gonna’ eat me up inside to think that if it were Eddie in my position, he’d be alone in this.”
And he wasn’t even wrong.
Would Chim have taken the time to hear him out? Would his parents have swooped in and taken his kid again? Would anyone be able to see past his skin color when it came to the chief deciding whether he could come back to work or not? Even if they did step up, would they be gentle with him? Or would they assume he could handle the worst of it. Would they take the time to sit vigil at his bedside with comfort foods and soft things at the ready, or would they drop a frozen casserole dish on his doorstep and call it ‘good enough.’
“Treat him like he’s family and then we’ll talk,” he finished, turning and heading back down the hallway towards his bedroom. “I don’t care if it takes a while to get a chance to show it, you’ve had eight years of chances to prove it to him. You’ll just have to hope you get another one.”
And with that, he shut himself inside his bedroom and no one dared to follow.
There was nothing he could take in there anyway, they’d all done a full sweep, but even if they hadn’t, Hen was sure he wasn’t looking for that right now. If anything, this was the most clear-headed she had ever seen the younger man.
For once, he wasn’t hiding his true feelings behind needing to be liked. He wasn’t making his requests small in hopes that he’d be listened to. He was just honest. Real.
He just protected his family and gave up something he treasured in order to get them to realize that he meant it. And he was right about every word.
They’d had so many chances. So many years where they made it so obvious that they were a package deal, they were joined at the hip on and off the job, and yet all of them went out of their way to exclude Eddie. Buck got invited to family dinners by the Grant-Nash family on a regular basis, but Eddie only got to come when everyone came over for a team barbecue. Harry and May had Buck over for weekly reality tv watch parties and no invite was ever extended to Eddie. Hen and Karen had Chris over for dozens of playdates and sleepovers over the years, but they never once invited Eddie to stay for dinner. Hell, Maddie didn’t even have his phone number saved in her contacts because it was only ever Buck including the younger man in their plans.
Any excuses were beyond moot at that point.
Sure, not everything had to include him, that was more than fair. Sometimes Bobby could just invite one of his pseudo-kids over for dinner without it being a big exclusionary thing.
But not one time in eight years? That wasn’t an occasional preference, it was a pattern.
Giving him space after a crisis or an injury was one thing, it was an easy excuse to say that Eddie didn’t ask for their help. It was easy to say he was a private person who didn’t want people hovering when he was in a vulnerable state, and yet to brush over that completely when Buck came home from the hospital after his coma and didn’t want any part of Maddie’s rotating visitors list. And they did it anyway because they cared about him. Because they wanted nothing more than to see for themselves that he was okay. Because seeing him fight for his life scared them to the point where even weeks after a clean bill of health, they were still hovering just to be safe.
Only for Buck to escape to the only person who apparently listened to his needs. Because Maddie had been annoyed when Eddie didn’t sign up for any shifts on the rotation. Because she’d thought it was cruel for his so-called best friend to care so little. When in reality, he was the only one actually listening to Buck.
Because Buck had sat there for days, putting everyone’s anxieties over his own suffocated feelings just to make everyone else happy, and Eddie was the one who gave him a place to escape to. Because they’d done nothing but add more and more weight to his shoulders, emotional burdens stacked one on top of the other, letting Buck shoulder the weight of all the things they refused to see. Letting him take care of the Diaz boys when no one else would. Letting him cooperate with care on their terms, knowing Eddie was the only one who gave him space to breathe.
They’d let them both down. All of them had.
Even Bobby.
For months, it was just jokes. It was no one checking in, it was playful jabs about a mustache that they all knew was just an attempt to hide when he couldn’t stand the sight of himself, it was blissful ignorance when plans could’ve easily been made to ensure every shift didn’t end with a drive home to a cold, empty house.
They could’ve found a way.
Even through the pandemic, they all made an effort to make sure Maddie had everything she needed during her pregnancy. Virtual brunch dates were held, Buck found a way to drop off dishes on their doorstep whenever she was craving something, Hen and Karen dropped off baby supplies since their fostering was put on hold. They made it work. It was far from perfect, but the effort was made. Eddie stepped up to pick Denny up from school most days when Karen was recovering from her surgery, even occasionally having Carla cover the days he was at work so that they wouldn’t have to worry about it. It was a small thing, but it made a big difference.
It wasn’t even until after Chris came home from Texas that Hen started getting to know Eddie outside of work, which honestly should’ve been embarrassing looking back at it. The fact that it took being made partners at work for her to start spending time with him was legitimately sad, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if they’d just been doing it from the start. Buck nearly lost his mind with possessive jealousy when he found out Hen and Eddie went to the movies together because that was how new it was for them to actually act like friends.
And it wasn’t even like Eddie was perfect at it either, they all had their periods where they weren’t as present in each other’s lives outside of work, but she couldn’t even think of a single time that they’d given him the support they gave others. That was all that mattered. If they made an effort to be there for Hen when she was struggling with her chronic illness, they could’ve made even just half of the effort to check in with him. If they all found a way to drop everything to help Buck detox, they could’ve made sure he didn’t spend every night alone. If they managed to give everyone in their circle a time slot to check on Buck after the lightning strike, they could’ve had even just a few people check on him after Eddie got shot.
Saying otherwise would just be an excuse.
The relative silence they all moved through as they all finished tidying up the small amount of clutter that had been displaced while searching for any hidden meds was stifling, with none of them knowing what to say to each other as they all let the earlier conversation sink in. The longer they worked, the more Hen felt some weird shape of what could almost be called resentment growing and she absolutely hated every second of it. It was those initial stages of guilt and accountability.
Wanting something, anything, else to explain away the blame. Something that would exonerate them, that would make it easier to accept.
That part of her that wanted to clear everything up so easily, that made it so tempting to think he never told us he needed help or he always insists that he’s fine, was so hard to fight as the guilt gnawed away at her stomach. It was all true, Eddie was notorious for downplaying any and all struggles he went through, whether it was rejecting ibuprofen when he was sore from the gym or hiding in the ambulance on the way back from a rough call so no one could see him trying not to cry.
But wasn’t that just as bad? That they all knew he was prone to denying anything was wrong and yet, when he hid just how badly he was struggling, they all just decided to pretend they believed him? When he lingered at the station after their shift ended, not wanting to go home to an empty house, did they not pretend they didn’t know exactly what he was doing? When he got so attached to every kid they encountered on a call, clearly craving that closeness he wasn’t getting from Chris, did they not know why?
The bitter denial refused to go away, but she knew it would fizzle away in no time. The self-preservation before the inevitable healing and groveling to fix things began was, of course, temporary but that didn’t make it any easier when she was bustling around the house feeling like the worst person alive for blaming someone they’d already neglected for so long.
By the time the front door eventually opened—unlocked with his own key—all three of them nearly jumped out of their skin. The creak of the old house was loud enough that Buck didn’t hesitate to come out of the bedroom as soon as he heard it, his slippered feet sliding across the hardwood.
Sure enough, a little plastic bag hung from Eddie’s wrist.
“Where’s Buck?” He asked, glancing around only to be met with Buck immediately sliding around the corner and barreling towards him, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and holding on tight. The younger man was obviously startled, freezing for a moment as he steadied his feet before ultimately draping his arms around Buck’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “You okay?”
Buck nodded into his shoulder, the weight in his shoulders clearly seeping right out of him and disappearing completely the longer he was held. Obviously none of them had any doubts about leaving Buck in Eddie’s hands, but it was still nice to have a reminder that he felt so completely safe and cared for by his best friend.
“Just glad you’re home,” he sighed, burying his nose in Eddie’s fluffy hair. “Wish Chris didn’t have robotics this week.”
Eddie’s muffled laugh was like a burst of pure light as his head leaned further into Buck’s space.
“He said the same thing. If he didn’t have the whole rest of his team relying on him for regionals next month, I would’ve let him skip.”
They were lost in their own little world, just basking in each other’s presence, until Buck moved to pull away. His gaze went searching for the bag Eddie held before sharply turning to look at the small gathering around them.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” He snapped, jolting back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t and not the other way around. “I told you to leave when he got back!”
Of course, having no context to what was going on, Eddie flinched so hard he nearly fell into Buck’s hallway table if it weren’t for Buck still being close enough for him to grab onto and steady himself. His eyes went wide, darting between Buck and the rest of the group.
“Buck?” He asked hesitantly. “It’s okay, they don’t—”
“No, I told you guys I didn’t want you here,” Buck insisted, pulling away from Eddie and angrily stomping over to the front door and holding it open, gesturing for the trio to leave. “We went over all of this, I’m not dealing with it today. None of us are in the right state of mind for this conversation and I’m not throwing Eddie into it blind.”
Chim was the first to move towards the door, still glancing nervously at his wife and best friend as if he wasn’t sure who to listen to.
“Wait wait wait,” Eddie chimed in again, not satisfied to just let an entire argument happen around him without any idea what was going on. “What happened? I wasn’t even gone an hour! Did…” He froze, voice trailing off as he scanned the faces in front of him. “Did one of you say something to him?”
The short silence said enough, even if it gave him the wrong idea.
“What the fuck did you say to him?!” Eddie snapped, understandably jumping to the wrong conclusion given everything else that had occurred that day. “We’re supposed to be helping him, what—”
Luckily Buck knew the perfect moment to step in, positioning himself between Eddie and the others until there was nothing he could see but big blue eyes and ruddy cheeks.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he spoke calmly, immediately abandoning his frustration when it wasn’t warranted. “It’s okay, I’ll explain everything, but nobody said anything bad, I promise. Just trust me, okay?”
Even completely hidden by a giant brick wall of a man, Hen knew exactly what Eddie’s face was doing for those few moments. Wide eyes scanned every inch of Buck’s face to determine if he was lying, teeth bit into his tongue to keep out of control words from spilling out, and thick brows furrowed with worry and desperation.
“Okay,” Hen barely heard. “I trust you.”
The next thing she knew, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the door, immediately making everything real. It was the panic that hit her first. The instinct that they couldn’t leave things like this, not yet. Not when everything was so raw and fragile.
But if Buck wanted space, she would give it to him. They would listen and do this right.
Still, as Hen stood in the doorway, the last one left inside, she couldn’t help herself.
“We’ll fix this,” she spoke anxiously. “I promise.”
Buck, still frustrated and no-doubt overwhelmed from the day’s activities, couldn’t conjure much more than a stiff nod before closing the door behind them and leaving the trio to figure things out on their own. Their little bubble was safe inside his home.
The moment the door clicked shut, Eddie was on him. Not physically, of course, but he wasn’t letting anything go.
“What did they say to you?” he insisted, pulling Buck away from the door as if they would come crashing back inside. “I know you wouldn’t just shut them out for no reason and I know that you have a hard enough time protecting yourself as it is, so how am I not supposed to think it was bad?”
Luckily, Buck had years of experience dodging Eddie’s worry. He was the world’s leading expert on it, actually.
“They didn’t do anything to me, okay?” Buck repeated as calmly as he could, ignoring the part of his brain that screamed ‘someone hurting you hurts me too.’ “I’ll tell you everything, I promise, just…”
Eddie had the wherewithal to look guilty, stupidly round eyes dodging Buck’s as he swished the plastic bag in his hands.
“I got you somethin’,” he smiled softly instead, a familiar attempt to distract himself before he became so insatiable with worry that he couldn’t stop pushing until he found a way to fix it. “Your favorite.”
The brunet basically shoved the bag into Buck’s waiting hands, the familiar blossoming fondness growing in his chest as he peered inside and spotted exactly what he knew would be there. Seven bottles of peach mango Pedialyte, a sleeve of Saladitas crackers, and a multi-pack of extreme peppermint gum.
“You forgot about our deal,” Buck chastised fondly, raising an eyebrow imploringly. He tsked a few times, watching Eddie sheepishly reach into his back pockets. “Get something for yourself or I won’t eat any of these.”
Only, apparently he should’ve had a little bit more faith because all he got in response was a wrinkled empty wrapper from a sleeve of sour skittles. The blush on his best friend’s cheeks burned red and no-doubt hot, if only Buck were allowed to reach out and touch. Still, he settled for a fond chuckle, shaking his head as Eddie held out his evidence.
“I got stressed between the third and fourth CVS,” admitted the younger man with a shrug, as if it wasn’t a fruitless venture to try to disguise so much effort as a simple errand. “Our usual dealer replaced the peach mango with a new blue raspberry flavor, but I found us a new hookup near the community college and bought as many as they had.”
The sharp laugh that Buck couldn’t hold back was both in response to just how seriously their family took their preferred wellness snacks, but also just the absolute absurdity of Eddie being willing to go to the ends of the Earth just to make sure he was hydrated when water made him nauseous. Not to mention the fact that that school was easily an extra four miles in the wrong direction. He just couldn’t help himself.
“Nobody does this for you.”
Blurting out the broad strokes of his earlier argument wasn’t exactly how he planned to broach the topic, but something about seeing the casual way that his best friend approached taking care of him, the way he made it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world to drive in circles around Los Angeles just so that Buck didn’t have to suck it up and have his second favorite flavor of electrolytes. When his head was spinning and felt ready to burst out of his skull, Eddie didn’t burden him with reminders of what he liked, what he was in the mood for, none of it—he just knew. He knew getting a few extra bottles just to be safe would save them the stress of Buck being bummed if he drank some and immediately threw it back up. He knew just one pack of gum wouldn’t even last them a full twenty-four hours with the way Buck’s nose was constantly sniffling and strong mint was the only thing that ever got his sinuses to clear.
He couldn’t let this sit unaddressed any longer.
Yet, Eddie seemed confused, scanning Buck’s face as if he was lying.
“You do,” he answered. “You always do this for me.”
Buck shook his head stubbornly.
Yes, yeah, he did and he would continue to do the same whenever Eddie, or Chris, needed him. It was just what they did, what they’ve always done for years, but Eddie knew that already. He knew that Buck knew that, the same way that he knew the rule Buck had made for them to make it a little bit easier to accept being taken care of when they always got themselves a little something too.
“I know,” Buck relented, because Eddie wasn’t wrong after all. “And I…I love doing it for you, I honestly love doing anything that you’ll let me do to help you, but that’s not—” He sighed heavily, swinging the bag between his hands. “Athena is out getting me a costco sized pallet of tissues and vomit bags.”
Eddie paused for a moment, brow furrowed.
“Good?”
Ugh, he was so blind sometimes.
“When’s the last time Athena dropped something off when you were sick?” He dove straight to the point, asking outright.
The younger man pursed his lips, his tongue peeking out as he genuinely reflected back through the times he’d been sick.
“She dropped off a container of soup that Bobby made one time?” Eddie offered, as if he was searching for Buck’s approval. “He made it at the station, she picked it up and brought it here.”
He really couldn’t judge that harshly, but Jesus, sometimes trying to get Eddie to see the point was so unfathomably hard, it was basically like trying to get him to find a needle in a pile of other needles. Still, he took a deep breath before he let his more easily-agitated state cause him to snap.
“When, Eds?”
If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was cornering a prey animal by the look on the smaller man’s face.
“Three years ago? Maybe closer to four, I…I don’t remember that specifically,” he answered sheepishly. “I don’t know.”
Good.
“When’s the last time Hen or Chim invited you to spend time with them?”
Eddie, bless him, was so confused. He was so clearly trying not to say the wrong thing, something Buck noticed everyone was doing a little bit of around him, but that wasn’t like Eddie. Sure, an unexpected scenario called for a few curveballs, but usually Eddie didn’t watch every single word so closely, not the way he did with his parents or with his relationships. He knew that Buck could read between the lines, he would be understood even if every thought wasn’t fully fleshed out. He knew that if he slipped up and said something he didn’t mean, that it was always fixable.
“Hen and I went to see that movie about whales in October,” Eddie ultimately offered. “The documentary.”
Oh, Buck remembered it all too well.
He’d been so jealous at the time, to think that Eddie would spend his free time with someone else, especially when documentaries were supposed to be their thing. Hell, Eddie barely even liked documentaries, but he always insisted that he liked watching them with Buck and Chris, who made it so much more enjoyable with their constant commentary and interjections of fun facts.
“You told me you invited her,” Buck corrected, a bit of bitterness seeping through. His filter wasn’t great even on a good day, the detox brain wasn’t helping.
Eddie nodded.
“You got the tickets for Chris to go with that girl Molly, but then she asked for a rain check the morning of the movie,” he continued. “You said Chris wanted to wait and go with her another time and the tickets weren’t refundable.”
Eddie nodded again.
“So, again,” Buck sighed with all the weight of the guilt of knowing exactly how this conversation would go. “When was the last time one of them invited you to spend time with them?”
Okay, maybe he needed to tone it down because the shaking hands Eddie was currently using to fidget with the buttons on his flannel were not the goal and stressing him out by interrogating him was far from what he wanted to be doing.
“I-I don’t know,” he exhaled shakily. “I don’t remember.”
In a quick one-two, Buck dropped the bag onto the floor between them, the squared bottles hitting the floor with a thump, causing the other man to flinch back and lose his balance. Perfect for Buck to slide right in and pull him back in for another hug.
He could feel the tremors now, the nervous energy he’d become familiar with a long time ago. Most of their hugs over the years had been for Buck’s own benefit, after all. Buck had to learn at some point that Eddie was never going to ask for it, he just had to do it. He was well-aquainted with the grounding hug now, having halted many a panic attack just by reading the signs that Eddie was going to crawl out of his own skin if he didn’t do something about it.
“Our family—” he started, nose pressed into the soft brown hair at his nape. “—is not allowed to pick and choose. I won’t let them, not anymore.”
Eddie’s grasp in return was hesitant, cold hands sliding under the back of Buck’s hoodie for that skin to skin contact he’d become so desperate for. It’d been something they’d started gradually including in their routine after the lightning strike, when Buck admitted to his therapist that sometimes he felt like he was just going through the motions, like he was just piloting his own body from a distance. She had encouraged him to invite his loved ones to touch him more intentionally, something Buck already rarely did, but when he mentioned it to Eddie offhand one day in the midst of complaining about how he didn’t want to do something so awkward and unnatural to him, the younger man just started doing it.
Of course, growing up in the desert meant that Eddie thought anything under seventy-five degrees was cold and therefore most of the time Buck had to put up with ice cold fingers sliding under the neck of his shirts when Eddie grabbed his shoulder, but it was more than worth it. He wore shorts in the Hershey winters anyway, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
“They can’t dote on me and leave you to fend for yourself,” he continued. “And I…I love them, I can’t thank everyone enough for helping me through this, but I don’t want it if I don’t know fully, without a doubt, that if it were anyone else in my place, they would get the same treatment.”
Eddie went stiff in his hold, trying to pull back, but Buck didn’t let him budge.
“I’ve never seen them fight for you.” Because he hadn’t. “They’ve seen me do it, they all watched me claw through thirty feet of mud and tear my way through a tsunami to get your kid back to you. They know I pulled you out of gunfire and they, what? Let you go home to an empty house every day for months, knowing full well you were drowning while Chris was in Texas, I told them how worried I was, and they just…they knew I would be there for you, so they didn’t even try.”
The cold hands around his back gripped hard, neatly-trimmed fingernails digging into soft skin as Eddie seemingly made his best attempt at crawling inside the larger man’s chest for safe keeping.
“I put so much on you,” Eddie eventually mumbled into the crook of his neck. “‘M so sorry, I—”
Because, no, that wasn’t fair.
“Am I asking too much of everyone right now?” He asked, petting a hand through un-gelled waves. “Is taking care of me too much?”
Eddie’s head shook stubbornly against his sternum.
“It’s a lot for one person, though,” Buck admitted. “Taking care of anyone is…a lot for one person. And I know I just put all this, taking care of me, on you for the next few days while they all sort their shit out. I’m not letting anyone in for at least a few days until I know I won’t bite their heads off, but we do it for each other.” The tension of guilt in Eddie’s shoulders slowly dropped as he continued. “If they can show up for me, they can show up for you. I don’t want any love from anyone who doesn’t have more than scraps to give to you, okay?”
Ultimately, when Eddie pushed to be let go, he let him, even just to see his face.
Even if all Eddie did was push his forehead into Buck’s and lean and press until he started to wonder if there was some sort of telepathic message he was supposed to be getting out of it.
“They’re your family,” he whispered in the tiny bit of air between them. “You’ve been looking for this family, your real family, you can’t—”
Buck reached for his shoulder and found it blind. He could see every part of his best friend, his person, with eyes screwed shut if he had to. Natural as anything, his hand slid up, finding short wisps of chestnut hair at the back of the smaller man’s neck, and letting his hand sink into the soft strands where it belonged.
“This is my family,” Buck corrected, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands and clutching it to his own chest. “And in my family, everybody gets a shoulder to cry on whether you ask for it or not. In my family, we pay attention to the signs that someone needs help, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. That’s what you give me. That’s what you deserve.”
He could feel the shuddering breath against his neck, watching Eddie’s frustrated commitment to internalizing the sentiment. He knew the instinctive response was to say no, to say I don’t deserve it, and even though the words were so clearly on the tip of his tongue, Buck couldn’t help but smile at the clear effort the other man was making in order to take this seriously and genuinely trust him.
“I hate pushing them away when they’ve done nothing but support me and believe that I could get through this, but…I can’t even look at them right now,” the blond confessed. “Everything makes my head hurt and I already feel like I want to yell at the neighbors for mowing their lawn too loudly this morning and I almost puked smelling Nash’s baby food on Maddie earlier and I—” He huffed, leaning back and bonking his forehead against Eddie’s again. “It’s already too easy to get mad when you’re involved, I don’t need to be snapping at everyone when I’ve got an even shorter fuse than usual.”
“You don’t need to defend my honor,” Eddie offered, the smile on his face making it clear he was pleased even if he couldn’t shrug off the compliment completely. “I…I don’t think I ever noticed because you were always so good. I never had time to wish someone else would help me ‘cause…you always had me.”
The ugly beast of pride and satisfaction reared its head, only further solidifying the habit he’d tried so hard to break. The part of him that wanted to keep the Diaz boys all for himself and say ‘see? You’ll never know him like I do.’
The part of him that started the whole mess with Tommy and Hen and all the others who made his jealousy flare up. Maybe he didn’t need to shove it down completely, maybe there was a positive side to the part of him that didn’t want to share anything with anyone. Still, even so, there was a difference between wanting their family to make an effort to take care of each other in a way that was equal, and wanting to always be above everyone but Chris in Eddie’s life. There was never any real doubt that Tommy could even come close, Hen either, but that didn’t stop the fear. The fact that Eddie clearly liked his possessive streak didn’t help, but it was a comfortable compromise to be the one who could dictate whether everyone treated Eddie the way he deserved or not. He certainly couldn’t let Eddie decide what he deserved or he’d have let his parents tear everything he loved away from him a long time ago.
“I like having you,” Buck smiled, their noses bumping back and forth. “I like knowing that we’ve always had each other even when everyone else thought we were too much to handle.”
“We are a lot to handle,” the brunet teased, poking at Buck’s sides until he laughed. Even a tiny little hint of a smile was worth any amount of effort in the hours since they all found out what Buck had been hiding from them. “I think we might just be the only ones too stubborn to admit defeat.”
Every so often, Eddie managed to conjure a bit of self awareness.
“Yeah, well, I can’t let you win.”
“Bold of you to think you’d have to let me,” Eddie grinned, his pointy canines poking out. “I’d blow you outta’ the water, cowboy.”
The sigh Eddie received in response was exaggerated and very clearly playful, with Buck rolling his eyes slow and dramatic. Both of his hands held one of Eddie’s, gripped tight to his chest.
“I could argue this all day,” Buck mumbled into the shallow space between them. “As much as I would love to argue how I’d rather be the most stubborn man alive if it means you’re not too much for me to handle—” His sentence was cut off by a yawn. “I really need a nap.”
Eddie’s chuckle was pure fondness as he reached up and combed his hand through the sweaty curls on Buck’s forehead, not shying away from what could easily be considered gross.
“Get some electrolytes first,” the younger man insisted, picking up one of the many bottles from the bag on the floor and twisting off the lid, holding it up for Buck to drink. If there was one thing his best friend was weak for, it was Eddie’s stupidly earnest big brown eyes, which he pulled out whenever he needed to get what he wanted. “Please?”
The bottle was already half empty by the time Eddie brought out the please. Reminding him entirely of his teenage son, Buck chugged the entire bottle and immediately threw it across the room where it bounced off the couch and landed on the floor next to a pile of tissues, an empty water bottle, and two thawed ice packs from Buck’s earlier hot flashes.
There was no way Eddie was letting him get away with that, even though after he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Buck had the cutest apologetic face waiting for him when he looked up.
“You fired all of my assistants, at least don’t gimme’ more trash to clean up,” Eddie pouted, furrowing his brow. “I thought we established that I have my hands full.”
“‘M sorry,” Buck mumbled with a sleepy smile as he swayed forward and let his lips meet the grumpy wrinkle on Eddie’s forehead. Not even a kiss, just close enough to make the furrow disappear. “I’ll clean it up later, promise.”
But Eddie just shook his head and, once again, bonked it against Buck’s chin like a cat.
“Nah, I knew what I was getting myself into,” he insisted with a fond sigh. “I’ve had a lot of practice cleaning up after a temperamental teenager. This is nothing, I just like teasin’ you. I don’t want you worrying about anything but stayin’ hydrated and keeping some sort of food in your stomach, okay?”
Buck stretched his arms out around the shorter man’s shoulders, yawning as he leaned more of his weight against the other.
“M’kay,” the blond smiled. “Nap?”
Eddie’s laugh was short and bright, the weight of the world rolling off of their shoulders.
“Yeah. Let’s nap.”