Because Evan

(Eddie doesn't know that but the nurse was either absolutely sure this is what Buck is because there are assumptions and there are legal medical documents or she is sure this is the mythical firefighters' bond and they're just very close work partners - your pick. Either way, Eddie thinks she means romantic life partner.)

Meanwhile, Eddie goes through all stages of grief because his apparent partner he acquired in the past five years is a he and apparently such a sure thing he's in all of Eddie's medical documents.

A guy. What kind of a guy he would have to be for Eddie to choose him as his partner?

Then the nurse comes back with a very tall, very handsome guy built like a brick wall but also making a face that makes him look like an eager but sad golden retriever and—

Oh. That explains some stuff. If just looking at him makes Eddie feel like it, then he can't even phantom what being with him feels like.

The guy stops mid-room, not going for a hug like Eddie expected him to. "Heard you don't remember me."

And he sounds so sad that Eddie reaches his hand out and the guy — his partner — is instantly at his side, gripping his hand, and Eddie doesn't let him go until he gets the point and pulls a chair closer and sits with him.

"I don't. So a name would be nice."

"Buck. Well, Evan Buckley, but everyone calls me Buck."

And like, Eddie's never been big for pet names but even in this short moment Buck seems so bright he wants to call him mi sol. "I call you Buck?"

Buck chuckles. "Yeah, you call me Buck. Unless you're really serious, then you call me, you call me Evan."

"Evan," he tests out. "Sounds like you're in trouble."

And Buck smiles at him so softly Eddie is melting in that bed, warmth hitting him where he's still holding Buck's hand hostage and traveling up. "Not to me."

Bobby, who is apparently their captain — even though Eddie has a feeling like he's talking to his in-laws again the whole time he is there — brings Chris to the hospital and he's so big, already eleven, and so sassy with Eddie.

He's also very, very familiar with Buck, which calms him down - he talks about the funny sandwich cutters Buck's been using the whole time Eddie was in the hospital to cheer him up and tentatively admits how they slept in the same bed the first week because Chris had nightmares.

And even though his dad landed in the hospital — again, apparently? — Chris seems very, well, very well-adjusted to the situation at hand, even if Eddie can see he's being a bit clingy with both Eddie and Buck. Like the adults in his life are doing a good job at shielding him.

Buck is the one who has all the hard conversations with him, about Shanon, about his parents, about his abuela moving to Texas because of a whole pandemic, about the accident he had at work, and what will happen once he leaves the hospital.

It's really reassuring, that it's Buck telling him all that.

If he had any doubts about Buck being a very, very good and very, very close partner, all of it disappears when they go back home from the hospital.

His whole house has signs of Buck living their best lives in there — there are photos, cookbooks, cooking utensils Eddie doesn't even know the names of, Buck's clothes mixed in his wardrobe, cards from Chris for the both of them. It's very clear Buck is not only a big part of their life but also lives with them full-time, too.

He knows where everything in the kitchen is — "I have a system, Eddie" — and he knows where all Eddie's insurance paperwork is, knows the PINs to his phone, his cards and accounts, he knows all about Chris' medical needs. He knows how Eddie likes his coffee, how Chirs likes his toasts, which shaving cream Eddie likes, which toothbrush is Eddie's, which pair of shoes Eddie's only bought because they were on discount and never worn, which of Christopher's notebooks is the one for math.

He doesn't remember the past five years but he can't imagine not having Buck as his partner. Knowing he is there doesn't make him anxious like he thought it would — it makes him calm, settled.

So he's offended when the first night comes and Buck tries to bring spare blankets onto their couch. He wants him in their bed.

He gets that Buck is trying to give him space since Eddie doesn't really remember all the years they've been together, but that's a bit much. They're partners, and pretty solid ones at that, not just a new couple figuring stuff out, they must have slept together a million times.

Because Eddie was unconscious for so long, he still needs PT, and Buck somehow manages to arrange that Eddie's and Chris' PT is at the same time and Buck oscillates between staying with either of them for the duration. There's one time when the receptionist at the therapy center asks him why he comes in so often when he looks fine — she's flirting with him, Eddie knows, which makes him glare at her, and Buck just tells her, "I'm just the chauffer for my boys." And Eddie calms down.

So Eddie tells him to go off the couch and sleep in bed with him. It takes some convincing but eventually, Buck agrees. They lie down, Buck is being unnecessarily awkward, turning his back on Eddie in the dark. Eddie is not having this — turns towards him and spoons him, holding him in his arms. He's pretty sure Eddie getting hurt and forgetting five years is stressful on Buck, too, even if he doesn't show it. He deserves the comfort of his partner, even if said partner doesn't remember all of their life together.

It happens again the night after, and the night after that, until Buck stops tensing up whenever Eddie wraps his arms around him.

They assessed him at the hospital and he's supposed to have someone's handheld assistance or use a stick or a frame when he walks, until the PT gets his legs to the state from before. Using either the stick or the frame makes him feel like an old man, and the feeling doubles when Buck, the hunk of a man that he is, is nearby, so he refuses to use it when Buck is around. Which ends with Buck helping him around by placing an arm around his back and holding his hand with the other whenever Eddie needs to move.

Which is an absolutely amazing feeling because Buck is both the gentlest of giants, always knowing when Eddie needs reassurance and so freaking fit and big, Eddie can just rest against his chest whenever he feels wobbly or needs comfort from the embarrassment. It's a very contrasting feeling because it makes Eddie want to be held and pecked all over his face and thrown into the wall to make out.

Eddie's physical fitness improves and he misses Buck's touch the second his therapist says he can start moving without assistance.

That's the only problem Eddie has — Buck refuses to touch him. Again, he knows it's a bit weird with Eddie not remembering. At first, he thought it was just Buck giving him the lead on how much he wants them to do but then Buck keeps on ducking out any time Eddie initiates something.

He goes in for a kiss when Buck is drinking coffee and he dodges, standing up before Eddie can try again. Eddie gives Chris a kiss goodbye and goes to give Buck one, where he's standing next to their kid, and Buck skips out the door, telling him he's going to start the AC in the car. He tries to curl up against his side on the couch and Buck gets up with an excuse of making popcorn or tea or anything else possible. When Eddie slips into the shower while Buck is brushing his teeth, he leaves the bathroom with the toothbrush still in hand. Buck pretends to be asleep when he kisses his neck and swats Eddie's hands off when he moves them under his t-shirt when they're spooning, always calls out Eddie in the dark, like he isn't sure Eddie is comprehending what he's doing.

(Buck is pretty sure Eddie is trying to kill him — just make him have a heart attack or something — even if not deliberately. He isn't suspecting a thing about Eddie's partners assumption.)

It's like Eddie has a partner that loves him but without the bits that are funny. Like, he thought life-affirming sex is a thing and he is cleared for physical activity now and still out of work and going stir-crazy.

He doesn't get it and he can't talk about this with Buck because it almost feels like Buck is rejecting him, every time he ducks away from Eddie's affection or doesn't reciprocate it.

"Buck is—He loves me, right? He hasn't stopped after the accident, he's—He finds me attractive, he wants me, right?"

(Hen, sweet Hen, thinks he figured out Buck is in love with him now that he has a bit of an outsider perspective, and mutters, "Oh boy," cursing in her head because it's too early for this conversation. She isn't even suspecting Eddie heard partners once and ran wild with it.)

"I don't see where you're going with this," Hen says diplomatically.

"It's just, he's not doing anything about it," he explains. "It feels like he's barely touching me."

Hen is freaking out because of all times, Eddie had to realize now—"Do you... want him to touch you?"

"Have you seen him?" Eddie asks and then frowns. "Oh, right, playing for a different team."

"You just had a brain injury," she points out, hoping Eddie will find his brain somewhere, actually, and think.

"It's been almost two months, the doctors say I'm fine, memories aside," he says stubbornly.

"Eddie, I don't think Buck is going to make any first moves when you don't remember the past five years you guys—" She needs to change the track because she's saying too much. "Why don't you just talk to him about it?"

"And say what? Please bend me over our kitchen table? Please shower with me? Please give me kisses goodbye? Please hold me at night?"

"You probably should start with something more...tame," Hen suggests.

He's tried tame — he's tried initiating kisses and hugs and Buck doesn't respond. It's like he is afraid to touch him and Eddie isn't made of glass.

He needs to do something drastic.

So at night, he waits for Buck to come to bed, lights dimmed, and when Buck pulls the covers away to slide into bed with him, Eddie is naked — he can't be more blunt, if this flies over Buck's head, he'll be worried.

"Oh my god," Buck keeps on repeating, not looking at Eddie, blindly trying to put the covers over Eddie.

"Oh, come on, I can't be more obvious," he complains. "Why can't you just touch me, Evan?"

He's taking deep breaths, not looking at Eddie at all and this is the opposite of what he aimed for. "You don't want me, Eddie, you don't even know me."

"I definitely want you," he protests, irritated. He knows what he wants, it's Buck who's been missing the signals right and left. "And I know you, you're my partner, my Buck—I know you want this, too."

It's the truth — when he thinks Eddie can't notice, he looks at him like Eddie is everything he could ask for. He wants him to look at him like that now, too. He knows Buck, even if memories aren't there.

"We're not doing anything until you get your memories back and you actually know who I am."

"What if I never get my memories back?"

Buck doesn't reply and for a second Eddie think he got him, but then Buck stands up from the bed and says, "I think I should move out."

"What?" Eddie protests because that's definitely not what he was aiming for. Buck's place is with them, even if things in their relationship are a bit dry or stilled. "And where exactly would you go?"

"I do actually have my own place, you know?"

And how Eddie was supposed to know? He lives with them. He should not have a back-up place to go.

"I think I'm sending you mixed signals and you obviously don't remember enough to interpret them with clarity in your head," he tells Eddie and leaves.

He actually leaves the house, too, no matter how much he's asking to just sit down and listen to him. He spends the night trashing from side to side, expecting Buck to be back any moment but never getting him back.

(Meanwhile, Buck doesn't go to the loft because everything is dusty in there since he's moved into Eddie's place when he had to take care of Chris when he was still unconscious. Instead, he goes to Maddie's and complains to her over a glass of wine, aiming to stay on her couch overnight. "You didn't see him, Maddie, he was just lying there like a starfish, completely naked, going all, now you can touch me all you want—" and Chim wakes up Jee with how hard he drops the pans he was pretending to clean while eavesdropping.)

Buck comes back in the morning to take Chris to school — he doesn't offer Eddie to take him together and they don't talk at all.

Eddie needs to talk to someone about this because he might have somehow ruined the relationship with the man he's pretty sure he'd like to marry one day. By wanting him to touch him, of all things. But everyone is at work.

Pepa is retired, though. The problem is, Eddie isn't about to tell her Buck had threatened to move out because Eddie wanted him to fuck him.

So he asks the more appropriate question, "Why are we not married yet, actually?"

Maybe if they were married, Buck wouldn't have some secret place to escape. Maybe he'd feel like he can touch Eddie because Eddie is his on paper, too.

Pepa gives him a look that says he's crazy. "Who?"

"Buck and I, obviously." Forget crazy, Pepa stares at him like he's insane. "What? Does Buck—not want to get married? Did I say anything about this to you?"

"Mijo," she says, sounding like it pains her to do so. "You and Buck are not—you're not together, Eddie."

Eddie laughs because that's—that's not possible, they're partners, Buck's been taking care of him and Chris since Eddie woke up, and long, long before that even if Eddie doesn't remember it. He's Eddie's power of attorney and next of kin and he's in Eddie's will, he's all but a step away from adopting Chris, knows all of Chris' and Eddie's medical history, their allergies, their likes and dislikes. He's Eddie's partner.

Pepa is not laughing, just looking at him with that pitying expression on her face,

"But—he loves me, he loves Chris, he loves us," he says dumbly.