#buddieversion

“I’m sure it wasn't that bad.”

“I told him about my last first date,” both Maddie and Hen deflate a little, “And I asked him how he knew my name even though-”

“You wear a name tag.” Hen finishes,

“Evan, you have been texting him for a week,” Buck perks up and looks indignant, “Don’t play coy with me, you have been anxiously checking your phone, and you smile every time you get a text. This is the exact behaviour that you chided me and Chim for not 3 months ago.”

“That was different!” Buck whisper shouts,

“Okay, fine.” She doesn’t sound convinced (and she shouldn’t be),  ”But promise me that you will actually schedule a date,” Maddie says reaching over the counter to squeeze his arm, “I gotta run to work, have a good shift guys!”

“Bye Mads,” they both shout after her, and then look over the shop that is otherwise empty,

“Another riveting tuesday afternoon,” Buck says twirling his cloth around,

“So you said Hot Guy has a name?” Hen asks facing away from the door, Buck staring at her, mouth open a little,

“Eddie,” Buck says breathlessly

“Hot Guy huh?” Eddie says from behind her, smiling brightly,

“Was not supposed to ever find out about that Henrietta,” Buck continues barely looking at Eddie out of sheer embarrassment.

“You had a nickname for me? And it was and I quote ‘Hot Guy’” Eddie continues smile somehow getting brighter,

“Well Eddie, I’m Hen.” she introduces herself after it is clear that Buck still needs a moment,

“Should I expect a if you hurt him speech from you?”

“No that would be his other older sister.”

“You’re my older sister now Hen?”

“Have been since you walked in here on bambi legs and with wide eyes Buckaroo”

“Thought your name was Buck?” Eddie asks his tone playful,

“Well no, my name is Evan. But only under very certain circumstances do people get to call me that.” Buck smirks, “Anyway, what can I get for you? It’s on the house.” he barely notices Hen slipping into the back,

“Just my usual,”

“I have uh no idea what that is.”

“You have a nickname for me but have never made me my signature black coffee?”

“You are always here before me!” Buck protests starting the machine,

“I’m just kidding, just make me something you think I might like,”

“No dissertation to work on today?”

“Nope, you said Tuesday afternoons were usually q-”

“Don’t even-” Buck whips around, almost spilling the milk brandishing it like a weapon,

“So I wanted to stop by and actually talk to you.”

“Isn't that what our date is for?”

“The house was also too quiet. Chris is with my Abuela today. I have a meeting with some students later so I’m just killing time.”

Buck sets the mug down in front of Eddie, “This is my specialty. Try it.”

“Your specialty is a latte?” Eddie asks playfully,

“No, sort of, just try it.”

Buck watches as the flavors hit Eddie, the gentle bit of cocoa powder and then the heat of the cayenne pepper all finally balancing out with the milk.

“Wow”

“So do you like it?”

“No wonder it’s your signature. Thank you.” Eddie says ducking his head with a small smile,

Buck is thinking of something to say next when Eddie’s phone rings, he furrows his brow but answers, and Buck returns to cleaning up from making the latte.

“Buck, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go.” Buck whips around at the edge in Eddie’s voice, “I gotta go to the hospital.”

“Hen!” Buck calls without a second thought, whisking his apron off and coming around the counter, “Eddie, take a deep breath. Can you look at me? There you go. Which hospital?”

“Uh, Cedar Sinai?”

“Okay, that’s just a couple blocks from here, and I know someone there. I’ll come with you.”

“Buck?” Hen asks,

“Hey Hen, someone is in the hospital. I don’t know that any details beyond that were retained so I’m gonna head over there with Eddie. Also say hi to Maddie. I should be back soon.”

And they are out the door.

“Evan?” Maddie said as they stepped into the ER waiting area, “Are you all right?”

“Fine Maddie, not a scratch on me.” Buck grins, “Eddie?”

“Uh yeah, Edmundo Diaz, I was called?”

“Let me see what I can find.” Maddie replied, throwing questioning eyes at Buck who silently told her he would explain later, “Looks like Isabel Diaz was admitted for a fall about 20 minutes ago. You can head up to the 2nd floor.”

Something in Eddie relaxes a bit before he turns to walk to the elevators

“Thanks Mads!” Buck says blowing a kiss as he jogs to catch up with Eddie.

They arrive on the second floor and Buck hangs back watching as Eddie speaks to an older woman, after swooping Christopher up in his arms from the small table scattered with toys in the center of the waiting area. A look passes over Eddie’s face as he checks his watch, and then his eyes fall on Buck. “Hey, I have my meeting in like 45 minutes, Pepa needs to stay here with my Abuela, and Chris can’t really be either place,” he runs his fingers through his hair and the harried look returns,

“Eddie, I’ll take him for the afternoon. I am sure Bobby wouldn’t mind. Others bring their kids occasionally. It’s really no biggie, he’ll just put me on clean-up or something.” Buck replies. Buck and Christopher have a wonderful afternoon together, looking at more paintings and reorganizing the small bookshelf in the corner of the shop. Chris charms Hen and Bobby in 5 minutes flat. Bobby is reading one of the few children’s books from the shelf when Eddie returns.

“Buck?” Eddie questions searching the shop,

“Eddie?” Bobby asks as Chris shouts “Dadaa”, “I am guessing you are his dad then. Bobby Nash,”

Eddie relaxes for what feels like the millionth time today and holds out his hand and shakes Bobby’s hand, and smiles,

“Thank you. Really it means so much that you allowed Chris to spend the afternoon here.” he says as he takes Chris back into his arms.

“Hey, Buck said you and Chris are important to him.” Bobby said as if that was an answer. And then Eddie realized it was. The little coffee shop he had chosen at random from the list on google maps a few weeks ago had turned into something so much bigger than that. He had found his pocket of people in the most random of places. But he was happy.

A week later and nearly twice as many texts exchanged between the two in the same span of time, found them on their first date. Finally. After much deliberation on both their parts and convincing from Buck’s, they ended up at the zoo on a Wednesday afternoon.

Chris happily being passed between them, looking at and petting all the animals he could.

As they spent time at the giraffe enclosure, Chris giggling at the feeling of the animal’s tongue against his small hand filled with food held in Eddie’s,

“Would you three like your picture taken with Sofie?” a zoo keeper asks as she passes by them,

“Yeah! Absolutely!” Buck replies already handing over his phone.

They go through the business of taking several pictures, some with silly faces, until Chris is satisfied.

The zoo keeper, Blair her name tag reads, hands Buck his phone back while Eddie and Chris immediately become reocupied in petting Sofie,

“You two have an adorable son.” She says with a smile, and Buck gulps, it’s their first date. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? Before he thinks of anything else or tries an overly long convoluted explanation, he just settles on, “Thank you.” before she’s too far away to hear anything at all.

A bit later while Chris is thoroughly engrossed in the lemurs from his stroller Eddie clears his throat with a distant look in his eye,

“I know this is probably not what you imagined when you thought of dating. The zoo with a 2 year old.” Eddie said his eyes trained on one of the lemurs,

“Eddie,”

“Let me just. I thought after Shannon left that it would just be me and Chris ya know? Us against the world. And then I walked into this cute little coffee shop and saw this guy. With the most gorgeous blue eyes and curls of blond hair and I thought to myself for a split second that I could have him. For that split second before all the voices came back, I could have you and it was perfect. And then immediately felt guilty, because that meant I would have to lie about Chris, about my life. Lie about me. About my ex-wife and my trauma. And that doesn’t even touch the sexuality aspect. But you have seen all that, and you’re still standing here with me, on what has to be the strangest first date in history-”

“Did you forget that on my last first date, I ended up getting a emergency tracheotomy on the restaurant floor. Eddie I, I had to tell myself that you were just Hot Guy for weeks, that there was no way you were going to talk to me or even know my name. And then when we were texting I had to keep denying myself that it was barely ever just a crush. There has just always been something about you, and that day with Chris, it didn’t even phase me. So you had a kid! And there is no universe in which I don’t see you two for what you are- a package deal. Because I don’t think there is a universe in which we don’t end up here. Well maybe not here , at the zoo, but I think we would have always made it to a first date. Chris just pressed the fast forward button… And took the remote control and sent us here-”

“That’s precisely my point Buck. My life is such a mess that we are here! With a 2 year old, when I promised you a not too fancy dinner.”

“Eh, we will have the chance to have all different kinds of dinners.” Buck replied grabbing Eddie’s hand and leaning into him, “look at me,” Buck moved in front of Eddie finally catching his eyes, wiping a thumb across eddie’s cheek bone, “I know this might sound ridiculous and there should be no way that I know this so soon, but Eddie- you and Chris, you two are what I have been wandering around looking for. You make my life feel like some sort of wild outlandish rom-com. One of those cheesy Hallmark ones.”

“Really?” Eddie swallows, “It’s been like two weeks?”

“Best weeks of my life.” Buck says unwavering,

“Are you sure?”

“If I kiss you would you believe me?” Buck smiles,

“I don’t know. You’ll just have to try and find out.” Eddie replies a twinkle in his eye.

Buck tilts Eddie’s chin up the ever so slight amount so their mouths can meet, and it’s soft and chaste. Because there are countless kisses in the future, some at the zoo, but most not. Some with Chris in the stroller next to them, but most not. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Laughter twinkled around his living room, Christopher giggling as he beat Buck at another level in whatever video game they were playing. Probably had too much gore or violence. His parents would flip if they saw this scene.

But his parents were in Texas. And Eddie and Christopher were safe in California. And Buck was here with them.

Eddie leaned in the doorway, crossing his arms across his chest, holding himself tightly, and let himself stare at the view in front of him. His son, happy as a clam, hanging out with his Buck, controller in hand, rocking excitedly on the couch.

And Buck, grinning wildly at Christopher, his face an animated cacophony of expressions, his voice washing over Eddie as he described how he was going to beat Christopher, a day that Eddie wasn't sure would ever come.

He just stared at them, his boys. Laughing at each other without a care in the world. Like Eddie hadn't spent that morning telling the sanitized story of how he'd pulled a body out of the wreckage of a helicopter. Like he hadn't pulled himself out of his own watery grave two days before.

Like the reason Buck had been sleeping on his couch the last few days was because he just missed Christopher so much, not because Eddie needed someone to keep an eye on him after the concussion.

And the delayed drowning that struck in the ambulance, his ribs reminded him.

He checked his watch, and shook his head, getting ready to break up the party, "Okay, Christopher, time for bed."

"Really, Dad? It's Friday."

"Yeah, Dad, it's Friday," Buck echoed, egging him on with an eye roll and elbow nudge.

"It's almost 9:30. Even on Friday, that's past bedtime." Buck blinked at him, then looked away to the clock on the mantle, eyes widening slightly, moving to put the controller down on the coffee table.

Christopher rolled his eyes, and kept playing, "But I'm not tired," he insisted.

Buck switched gears and backed Eddie up, "Hey, Superman, how about we finish up to a save point, and then you get ready for bed, okay?"

"Fine," Christopher said, biting his lip in concentration, leaning into Buck's side, blinking and rocking slowly in a way Eddie had long since learned was code for I'm tired and ready for bed. Buck smiled, ducking his head into the couch above Christopher's head, putting up a token effort on the screen, getting him and Christopher to the save point as quickly as possible.

"Okay, get ready for bed, and then we'll be in to read you a story," Eddie said, nodding towards the bathroom. Christopher sighed, then pushed off of Buck's leg and the couch, and left the living room.

"Sorry, Eddie, I didn't realize it was that late."

Eddie waved him off, "It's alright. It's not that late, and tomorrow's Saturday. He can always sleep late."

Buck raised an eyebrow, "You're hoping he'll let you sleep late."

He shrugged, "Maybe. Besides, let's not pretend you don't win out on this deal."

"I'm just here for the video games."

"Yeah, right, and you're also coming with us to the zoo tomorrow."

"You just don't want to make breakfast tomorrow."

"Got it in one," Eddie said, smiling, relaxing as he heard Christopher walking back down the hall. He turned to face his son, the two of them leaning on opposite sides of the hallway, Christopher grinning at him and Buck. "Ready for bed, buddy?"

He nodded, "Yep," then turned to his room, motioning for Eddie and Buck to follow him. They followed, Buck leaning against the desk as he tucked Christopher in, then Eddie grabbing Dinosaurs before Dark, getting ready to read the next few chapters. He sat on the edge of the bed, tucking Christopher into his side, pressing a loud kiss into his son's hair before continuing on with the story of Jack and Annie in the pre-historic era. Buck migrated over from the desk to sitting on the edge of the bed, adding in sound effects and dinosaur roars as he deemed necessary, making Christopher laugh so hard the bed shook.

Eddie got through the section, then closed the book, pulling Christopher close to him for cuddles, stroking his face with his thumb, feeling his breath ghost over his hand. Christopher returned the hug, squeezing him tight, igniting the pain in his ribs, but he ignored it. He smoothed Chris's curls back and let go when he was released, backing up off of the bed.

Christopher turned to Buck next, curling into his side, throwing an arm around his stomach, demanding a hug goodnight. Buck wrapped an arm around Christopher's shoulders, pulling him half on top of him, and ducking his face into his hair.

"Goodnight Buck. Love you."

There was a hitch in Buck's breath, and Eddie could see his arms tighten around Christopher, "I love you too buddy."

"You're gonna be here in the morning, right?"

"Of course. We've got a big day at the zoo planned, don't we?"

"Can we have pancakes?"

"Sure. Maybe you can help me make them, huh? You're a better sous chef than your dad."

"Hey," Eddie cut in out of habit, without any heat.

"Sorry, Dad. Buck's pancakes are better," Chris shrugged unapologetically.

"Well, I've been making them since I was five."

"Maddie said you made batter that was closer to paste, and almost lit the kitchen on fire because you couldn't reach the stove."

"And those mistakes taught me what not to do. And now, after some help from Bobby, I can make you pancakes," Buck said, poking at Christopher's stomach, making the little boy sprawled on him giggle. Buck smoothed down Chris's curls, his own long tugged free of his usual gel hold, the two of them matching in the lamplight.

Christopher let out a sigh before snuggling into Buck's side, "Can I have chocolate chips in my pancakes, Buck?"

"Course you can, bud," Buck said, hiding his face in Chris's hair, but not before Eddie caught the twist in his face. Buck gave Christopher one last squeeze before standing up and walking to the doorway, pausing to brace himself on the frame and turn back to the Diazes. "Goodnight, Christopher."

His son grinned at Buck, eyes widened and head tilted in the way that he knew made him extra adorable, possibly angling for extra chocolate chips in the morning that made the pancakes more sugar than breakfast. "Goodnight Buck. Love you," he called out, adjusting himself now that he was no longer using Buck as a pillow.

Buck stared at Christopher, blinking before smiling back at him. "Love you too, bud. Night," he said, heading out to the living room, leaving Eddie alone with Christopher.

He tucked the sheets around his son, running his fingers through his hair. "So, you have fun today?"

Christopher nodded, "Yeah, everyone thought that you were cool."

"Well, that's nice. Goodnight, buddy," he leaned down, kissed his forehead, and turned off the lamp before getting up to join Buck in the living room.

"Hey, Dad," Chris called out. Eddie came back to the bed, nodding for him to continue. "When you were in Afghanistan, and your helicopter had the accident, were you scared?"

"Was I scared?" Chris just stared at him, Shannon's eyes piercing right through. He placed a hand on his son’s knee, trying to be reassuring. "Yeah, it, uh, it was pretty scary, when it happened. But I came home. And I am always going to fight to come home to you. Okay?"

"Okay." Eddie gave Chris another kiss and waited for his breathing to settle. He got up, knees creaking, ribs groaning, and left his son to hopefully peaceful dreams, keeping the door cracked. Just in case.

Buck had cleared up the video games and was straightening up, tossing stray Legos that found their way into all corners of his house into their basket. Two beers were sitting on the coffee table, tops off, condensation dripping onto their coasters.

"He asleep?" Buck asked.

"Yeah, he's down. Probably shouldn't pick a movie that'll completely traumatize him, just in case he wakes up."

"Aww, and here I thought we were gonna do a horror marathon."

Eddie rolled his eyes, and grabbed his beer, sitting down on the couch. "Stop cleaning and sit down. If you want to watch anything, you better start it soon. We've got an early day."

Buck ignored him, and grabbed the controllers, tucking them behind the TV. "I can probably convince him to let you sleep in tomorrow."

"It's fine."

"Eddie," he pressed.

"Buck, I'm fine. Doc gave me a clean bill of health, remember?"

He straightened up from his pillow rearranging, his hair glowing almost blond in the lamplight, the edges of his silhouette soft against the black outside the open curtains. "I remember you having broken ribs."

"Lightly cracked."

"Crack's still a break."

"Buck,"

"I'm just saying if you're not up for the zoo, or a nine-year-old jumping on you, you want me to get him out of the house and let you relax, I can do that."

He blinked up at Buck, who was staring at him, searching for any signs of discomfort, any sign that Eddie was lying to him about how he felt. His mother's voice echoed in his head, 'You're killing yourself, Eddie'.

They'd wanted him to give them Christopher, back then. Said he couldn’t be a parent and a provider at the same time.

And here Buck was, asking for Christopher, concerned that Eddie couldn't do handle tomorrow.

But this was so different.

Because he'd always get Christopher back from Buck.

Because Buck wasn't saying he was incapable, or a useless father, or any of the things his parents had either said to his face or let him know in a million quieter ways.

Buck was pointing out a current injury and offering Eddie just a little time.

And he wasn't offering that time with any caveats, or implications that Christopher was a burden on either of them.

He was just having his back. And having Christophers

Like they'd promised.

He stared at Buck, softly lit up with Eddie’s living room as a backdrop, fitting seamlessly into his house, his life, and his plans. The realization hit him like lightning, fast and sharp and brilliant, but a phenomenon that was somehow inevitable nonetheless.

Christopher didn't just come close to losing one parent this week.

If he hadn't made it out of that well, if he'd drowned, or been killed by the impact of the mud, or any of the ways that night could have ended him, he wouldn't be the only thing Christopher would have lost. He would have lost Los Angeles when his parents came to bundle him back to El Paso. He would have lost his friends, lost many chances at making new ones in Texas. He'd have lost Carla, would have gone back to seeing Abuela and Pepa maybe once a year, if that often.

He'd have lost any memories of his mother, lost the last person who also loved her, and wouldn't be able to miss her the way an eight-year-old misses their dead mother, even one with a complicated past. He’d have no one to reminisce about the good times with, no one to help keep her alive for him. If he woke up screaming from a nightmare about her in the middle of the night, there'd be no sympathetic ear, telling him that he'd be okay, and of course, they could bring her flowers tomorrow, and it was okay to be sad.

Christopher would get a bit of soft soothing from his grandmother, shuttled back to bed, and told to stop talking about his mom. His Abuelo would tell him to stop crying, be a man, and get over being an orphan.

Get over both his parents leaving him.

Leaving him for good this time.

And on top of all that, he'd lose his Buck. The man who built him a skateboard so he could be like all the other kids, made him feel better for the scraped knees and elbows already received with his own stories of broken arms and bloody noses. Buck, the man who backed Eddie up that it was okay to be sad, who wore his own heart on his sleeve with an ease that could make Eddie jealous, providing endless examples of what it meant to be a man that didn’t involve beating back all emotions.

What a pair they were. Eddie bottled everything up, and couldn't consider letting anyone in until it bottled up and exploded, culminating in fight club and nearly killing another man because he couldn't get his shit together, just letting his anger out at the drop of the hat.

And Buck. Buck, whose mind he could read better than his own, who not only broadcast how he felt constantly, he offered it all up to whoever was passing by, the good and the bad. Chris and Eddie had been on the receiving end of Buck's love since they'd met. They felt the joy and comfort and care Buck took with them, always offering a shoulder, or a hand.

They'd felt it all the more keenly when they'd lost it when he'd filed that goddamn lawsuit and had weeks of radio silence.

They'd gained it back ten-fold afterward, with that vow in his kitchen light to always be there for them. Like he should have been. 

He was here for them tonight and had been here this entire week. He'd driven Eddie home from the hospital, coordinated with Carla, Pepa, and Abuela to make sure that Christopher was taken care of, and taken turns with Abuela fussing over Eddie.

And now he was giving up his weekend to make sure that Christopher and Eddie were comfortable, safe, and happy.

He wondered, not for the first, second, or even dozenth time, why Buck hung around.

But he's stayed.

Through everything, he’s been there. For Eddie. And for Christopher.

Like no one else has.

Fought for Christopher, like only Eddie has.

---

"Mr. Diaz? Come on in," the receptionist said, waving him through the open office door. Eddie wiped his hands on his pants, the rough edge of his fingernails catching on the fibers of his jeans. He strode into the office, taking a seat across from Nadia Tomasa, Estate Lawyer.

She smiled at him softly, "Thank you for coming in today. You said you were looking to change your will?"

Eddie nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat, and took a breath. "Yeah. I need to do that." He'd changed it before going back to work after Shannon, before the funeral even, scribbling down his parents' names in this office on a pit stop between floral arrangements and talking to Shannon's landlord. He’d thrown them down because he didn’t have anyone else who he could ask to raise Christopher. His head had been a veritable mess after the roller coaster of Shannon’s death, but he couldn’t go back to work without leaving Christopher to somebody. 

What was it Bobby had said once? That having a child was having your heart beating outside your chest. Well, that much was true.

What did this mean? What was this going to look like? Him holding a bloody, beating heart and shoving it towards the man who'd fit himself into his family, bypassing the people who'd raised him, who'd been raised with him, and giving the most precious part of himself to Buck? To some gringo he'd known less than two years?

Yeah, he knew damn well what it looked like. What people might whisper, might say about him. And for once, Eddie wasn't sure he cared. Or maybe he only didn't care because he wouldn't be the one to deal with the shitshow after he died.

Maybe he should have asked Buck to come with him. Sat him down with a beer and formally asked him to be Christopher’s legal guardian in case Eddie didn’t come home one day. He’d say yes. Eddie had no doubts about that.

He’d tried. Couldn’t get the words out. Started talking about the baseball game instead, and what he thought of the Angels’ chances this year. Buck had given a look, one that said he knew something was up, but let Eddie change the subject anyway.

It didn’t matter. Buck would be there when Christopher needed him. Eddie wouldn’t have to be the one to explain why he’d made the decision to leave his child with cerebral palsy to his twenty-something, single friend with no kids and no professional child care experience. Who had a professional history of taking risks, being reckless with his own life and safety.

Whose main qualification was loving Christopher as he was, and having a pulse if Eddie lacked one.

That was good enough for Eddie. Christopher was his son. He didn’t need to justify this to anyone.

"Alright then, let's get started."

---

Eddie yanked his dresser drawers open, shoving fistfuls of clothes into his duffle, not bothering to count T-Shirts or see which sweatpants or shorts he was bringing, or if he had enough underwear. He crossed over to his closet, grabbed all of his uniforms, and dumped them on his bed, removing the hangers from each button-up and pair of slacks while the sounds of Christopher's video games floated in from the living room. Eddie folded each shirt, and rolled each pair of navy slacks, fitting them inside his other duffle, granting them more care than the clothes he'd grabbed to wear off duty. He'd only be at Buck's loft and making the occasional grocery run. It's not like it mattered whether his five-year-old t-shirts with holes at the hem and Cholula stains were wrinkled.

He walked back over to the closet, trying to see if there was anything he'd need that he'd missed. He looked through the clutter on the bottom of the floor, trying to decide if bringing another pair of workboots was too much, this is only going to be a couple weeks when a knock on the door interrupted him.

Tia Pepa opened the door to his room, the fake explosions from Christopher's video games growing louder, then quieting as she closed the door, not coming any closer to him. Because he couldn't go kiss his aunt on the cheek. Because that could kill her.

"I'm so sorry Tia, to ask this of you, I know it's too much-" Not that he hadn't had a plethora of offers from people to take Christopher in. His parents had wanted him on a flight to El Paso a week ago, and various cousins in Los Angeles had texted him letting him know they had guest rooms open if he decided it was best for Christopher to not stay with him for a while.

But he knew what was best for Christopher. And that was staying in his own home, where he knew the layout, and everything was on one floor, with even ground, and the furniture was spaced so he could lean on it to get around without his crutches. Christopher needed to be in a space where he had room to go through his PT exercises, and with someone who had spent regular time with him over the past couple of years.

He should be with Eddie, or Buck, or Carla.

But Tia Pepa was a close second.

She cut him off with a raise of her and a simple ah, "Eddie, you're family. And I know this isn't what you want to be doing either."

"Yeah, Buck's loft with four people? Gonna be pretty cramped," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans, and looking around his room. Good thing he'd never really decorated much here. Made for a quick conversion for a makeshift guest room for Pepa. It's not like he had a lot to clear away.

"Eddie, relax. Christopher and I will be fine. It's only for a little while."

He nodded, "I know. Okay, I changed the sheets and towels, they're still in the dryer. I've got cleaning supplies in the kitchen under the sink, and I think I've got his web portal whatever for online school set up. I already told his teachers to add you to the email list."

"I've got him, Eddie. Go say goodbye and get going."

"Right," he said, zipping up one duffle bag, checking the other to see that it had his toiletries, then zipping the other. He looked around the room one last time, trying to draw it out. "Okay, all of the important paperwork is in the safe in my closet…"

"Eddie,"

"There's an extra key for it on top of the dresser. Maybe hide it somewhere, I know Christopher went snooping around my room once, but you're here, and he knows not to do that Tia, we had a talk about that."

"Eddie,"

"It's got birth certificates, social security cards, my will,"

Sharper, "Eddie,"

"Hopefully you won't need that, but with what's going on?" He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his jaw tighten, "It's best if you know where it is."

"Just in case," she said, leveling her stare at him, daring him to contradict her.

"Just in case," he echoed, turning to leave the room and get out of the house.

"Try to make sure I don't have to open that up," she called after him.

Eddie paused at the threshold of the open door, staring at the curls that peeked over the back of the couch, "I'll do my best, Tia." He leaned over the back of the couch, ruffling his son's hair, hair that he couldn't even press a kiss to anymore without possibly passing on a death sentence. "Bye Christopher, I love you! Be good for Tia Pepa, alright?"

Christopher paused his game and leaned back, smiling at him, not quite having understood the gravity of the situation. His parents walking out on him for his own good wasn't anything new to him, after all. "I will. Love you!"

-

Eddie leaned back against the pillows on Buck's bed, his tablet open to Chris's smiling face, "Tia Pepa let me help with the tamales."

"Yeah, how'd he do?"

Pepa smiled, "Oh, much better than your attempts at his age. But we've had plenty of time to practice the past couple of months, haven't we?"

"How'd they turn out?"

"Almost as good as Abuela's!"

He forced a smile to his face, fighting the grimace and the headache building behind his eyes, "Really? You sure about that?"

Chris nodded. "We saved some for you. You can pick them up tomorrow when you stop by."

"That sounds great buddy."

Eddie watched as the screen blinked out, and Christopher's grinning face disappeared. He relaxed, the back of his head landing on the headboard with a thunk. He heard Buck's soft snort next to him, and felt the line of his body against his side, ankles hooked around each other, thighs pressed against each other, sides tucked into each other, the warmth of Buck's arm around his shoulder, where he'd left it, no signs of removing it. Not that this was out of the ordinary for them these days. Or had ever been unordinary for them.

No, these days, Eddie woke up tangled in sheets and his best friend's limbs. That first night they'd fallen asleep ramrod straight on their backs, Eddie not able to remember the last time he'd been so hyperaware of his own body. Was it when he'd been first handed Chris, that precious baby in a hospital in El Paso? Or even earlier, when he and Shannon had been teenagers just learning how each other's bodies worked?

However much distance they'd carefully left between their bodies when they'd fallen asleep, he and Buck always ended up gravitating towards each other in the night. The first night, Eddie woke at 4 AM to Buck snoring in his ear, Buck flopped on his stomach, their arms lined up together, the backs of his fingers grazing Buck's hip where his shirt and hoodie had ridden up.

He ignored the not sparks, tingle, or tickle that crept up his arm from his fingertips, and let the off-beat, tone-deaf symphony of Buck's snores, the air conditioning, and the ice maker lull him back to sleep for a couple more hours, dipping his head closer to Buck's, fitting together so easily, he didn't even need to think about it.

And now he and Buck were attached at the hip by necessity. The four of them were crowded in the loft, curtains hastily put up around Buck's bed, fold-up room dividers put up between the kitchen and the rest of the first floor in an attempt to create a façade of privacy that they could take turns retreating to different corners of.

Hen had claimed the balcony, insisting she needed fresh air to escape the constant testosterone. Chim took up residence on the couch, commandeering Buck's Netflix queue, taking the opportunity to educate a different Buckley on the intricacies of pop culture.

 And he and Buck retreated to his bed, even in the daytime. The moment Chris's classes were over they'd pull out a tablet or a phone and call him, his smile a welcome reprieve from what they saw when they got called out these days. Pepa had raised her eyebrows when she saw Buck that first day, but said nothing.

Chris had just been delighted to go on about his science project, the whole thing still an extended break and sleepover with his favorite aunt.

And Buck had just stayed by his side, a steady presence grounding him in yet another sea of chaos.

"I promised myself I wouldn't do this again," he whispered, his breath ghosting over Buck's neck.

"Hm?"

"Raise my son through a screen and phone calls. Told myself I was done with this after we got blown out of the sky, and I thought I was going to die in the desert. That I'd be there for him."

"You're staying away now so that you can both be there in the future. To keep him safe."

"I said the same thing back then. Only it was to pay for his surgeries back then."

"It's different now."

"I know. Just have a hard time getting that."

"Hey, Chris knows why you're doing this. Why we're all doing this. He's old enough now that he knows what's going on. And he knows you don't want to be away."

"He's twenty minutes away, and I haven't hugged my son in weeks."

Buck's fingers stilled in the pattern they'd been drawing on his shoulder, "Are you thinking of heading back?"

"Soon. They say numbers are going down, I might wait a couple weeks, see if that's actually true."

"Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm not sure of anything these days."

Buck shoved more of his weight against him, jostling Eddie so there was a bit more space between them. "Look, you're welcome here as long as you like. But…"

"I'd rather not stay forever," even though he hadn't slept this well, ever.

"Nah, you probably want your own bed and space again."

"Could do without your cold feet on my shins."

"I started wearing socks to bed for you. We're all making sacrifices." Eddie felt a familiar grin as he and Buck bantered, relaxing back against the pillows as the tension finally released. "Look, man," Buck continued, waiting for Eddie's attention. He quirked a brow at him, waiting for Buck to finish his point. "You're the only one who can decide whether or not it's safe enough for you to go back home. You want to sleep with my feet freezing your shins until the end of time, we can do that. But it looks like we're coming off the end of a spike."

"You think I should go."

"I think I understand you missing Christopher. God knows I do, and he's not even my kid."

He could be, Eddie thought, one day. He'd never told Buck about that piece of paper in his safe, or what was on it. It wouldn't be legally binding, not until Buck agreed. But no one else would miss Christopher like Eddie did.

Buck agreeing was just a formality, after all. He was family in all the ways that mattered.

“He misses you too,” Eddie whispered, thinking of Christopher’s pointed questions about when he and Buck would be back. Like they were a unit that went together. “After I go back, it should be fine for you to come visit. We’re in the same bubble at work, after all.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Buck said, just as quietly, and the two of them stayed still until Chim called for them to help with dinner, staring at the blank screen where Christopher’s face had been.

--

A faint knock at the door interrupted the stream of Christopher’s math teacher, breaking through the monotony of remote learning. Eddie got up, leaving Christopher to his computer, and went to open the door. Buck was standing there, biting his lip, waiting at the threshold.

"Since when do you knock?" he asked, trying for levity. It didn't work for Buck's mood if the twist of his mouth was any indication, but it got him through the door and sitting down at his usual spot on the couch. He pulled at the edges of his cuffs, staring at his hands.

"Twenty-four," Christopher said, his voice echoing softly from his room where he was set up.

"He's in the middle of math?" Buck asked, his voice rough and quiet.

Eddie nodded, though Buck couldn't see, "They'll be breaking for lunch in a few. He'll be happy to see his Buck. Didn't think we were going to see you this week."

Buck's lips twisted, "Yeah, I didn't think I'd have the chance to come by."

"Everything okay with your parents?"

"No," he looked up, still not looking at Eddie directly, instead focusing his stare past the TV, "But apparently, that's nothing new. At least, not to everyone else."

He cocked his head at Buck, waiting for him to continue, to explain, when Christopher opened his door and walked out, lighting up. "Buck," he said, walking over to the couch, bracing his hand on the back.

"Hey buddy, how's school going?"

Christopher rolled his eyes and finished sitting down next to Buck, "Boring."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," he said with a chuckle. Eddie hmphed, and Buck quickly added, "but it's still important. You need math to be an astronaut."

"I guess," he agreed, leaning his weight against Buck. Buck stared down at Chris; his expression guarded and closed off. He'd never been guarded around Chris, rarely around Eddie either. He'd opened his heart to them so quickly, worn it on his sleeve even after others had stomped all over it. Including his own parents, it seemed.

"Buck, you staying for lunch?"

"Yeah, I probably should. Who knows what you'd feed this poor kid?"

"I am perfectly capable of making sure my kid doesn't starve."

"Sure. I just think Christopher deserves higher standards than 'doesn't starve'. Right, buddy?"

Chris nodded, seeing unburnt grilled cheese and tomato soup that didn't come out of a can in his future.

They made their way into the kitchen, Eddie and Christopher settling themselves at the table while Buck made himself at home, rummaging through his fridge and pantry, slamming a cabinet door twice. He tossed some sofrito in a pot to heat up with canned tomatoes, spices and dried herbs before getting started on the sandwiches. Christopher kept a steady stream of conversation going, though Eddie noticed him giving the two of them confused looks.

Buck served up the soup and sandwiches in record time, smiling as Chris and Eddie ate theirs, though he only picked at his. Eddie caught Christopher giving them both a concerned look, likely remembering every other time they’d seen Buck with food in front of him. The timer for the end of Christopher’s lunch break went off, and he headed back to his room, leaving them both with a tight hug. 

"So, what's going on?" Buck looked back towards Chris's room, and Eddie nudged his leg with his foot. "He's got music at this time, he won't hear a thing we say."

Buck took a breath, grimacing, before opening his mouth and telling the whole sordid tale he'd just been told at Maddie's, wrung out of her after a slip up that ended thirty years of silence. Of secret brothers and childhood cancers, of a family at their wit's end and no hope, just a sick and dying child, and a desperate prayer.

A desperate prayer that came true in the form of a bouncing Baby Buck, who was carefully designed and planned, needing to be perfect to save their first son.

A desperate prayer that didn't last, Daniel Buckley was buried in the ground and left behind as the rest of the family put up the appearance of moving on, by pretending he'd never existed.

Only they were left with the tangible evidence, stuck with the son they hadn't really wanted, who dared to keep breathing and expect his parents to love their child.

"Fuck," Eddie shook his head, staring at Buck, who looked angrier than Eddie could ever remember seeing him. He never would have used the word to describe Buck before Phillip and Margaret Buckley strolled into town. He'd been a million things. Sad, hurt, lonely, scared. Rarely angry. And never like this. “How are you handling this?”

“Well, I have yet another emergency appointment with Dr. Copeland in two hours,” he said, checking his watch. “So I should probably get back to the loft soon. Make sure I have enough time to hide from Albert and Maddie before telling my therapist why my parents never loved me.”

“Just stay here,” Eddie offered. Buck jerked his head up, eyes red and shiny. “You can do your session in my room, and stay for dinner. We’ll order from that Thai place on Venice. Come on,” he nudged Buck’s shoulder, “Christopher’s going to want to show you what he’s been working on in class.”

“Well, if Christopher insists,” Buck relented, tapping his leg, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, acting the picture of nervous energy.

“He always insists,” Eddie grinned, then changed the subject, updating Buck on the rest of the extended Diaz family. Slowly, the tension started to seep out, Buck molding himself to the couch, though it didn’t disappear, his fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm. Buck’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, and he grabbed it, heading towards Eddie’s room with a strained smile.

After fifteen minutes, Christopher exited his room, done for the day, and looked around for Buck, brow furrowed in confusion. Eddie quietly explained that Buck was making a call in his room, letting Buck decide how much to tell Christopher.

Buck eventually slipped out of Eddie’s room, his face red and blotchy. He saw Christopher sitting on the couch, and perked up, his mouth pulling itself into a soft grin.

“Done with school for today?”

“Yeah. Dad said you were on the phone?” Chris asked, a gently nosy prod into Buck’s business.

Buck nodded as he sat down on the couch with Eddie and Christopher, “Yeah, you uh, you know how you used to talk to Dr. Lee? Well, I talk to another doctor.”

“Do you get nightmares too?” Chris asked.

“Um, sometimes, sure. But that wasn’t what I talked to Dr. Copeland about.”

“What were you talking about?”

Eddie cut in, “Christopher,” but Buck waved it off.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Uh, I found out some stuff that some people didn’t tell me before, and I was pretty upset, and I needed a little help processing and figuring out how I felt.”

“And the doctor helped?”

Buck blinked, and paused, his mouth twisting as he worked through how to respond. “I don’t know yet. But I think so.”

Chris nodded, “Do you think Scrabble or video games will help too?” he asked, probably hoping Buck would say video games, in an attempt to end the ban still in place.

Buck grinned, the first full, genuine smile Eddie had seen since Buck walked in that day. “I think hanging out with you always makes me feel better.” He put his arm around Christopher and pulled him into a sideways hug that Chris returned, the two of them melting into each other. “Come on, let’s see if you got any better at Scrabble while your dad and I were in Texas.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but agreed, letting Buck cuddle him while they played as a team, beating Eddie soundly. Later that night, after take out had been ordered, eaten, and the leftovers packed away, and Christopher was in bed, Eddie cornered Buck as he was leaving.

“You sure you’re okay.”

He looked at the ground away from Eddie, head hung, still shaky, but steadier than he’d been when he’d arrived that afternoon. “No. But I will be. Hey, at least I know why we’re all so fucked up now.”

“You’re not fucked up,” Eddie interrupted.

“Yeah, I am. I used to intentionally do stupid stunts and not care if I got hurt, because at least then my parents might look at me. Not just ignore me, or see right through me. That’s fucked up, Eddie,” Buck insisted, shaking his head. “I just wanted someone other than Maddie to love me, you know? Someone to see me, choose me, and stay. Now I know why they couldn’t.”

“They’re your parents. Loving your kid is part of the territory,” Eddie argued weakly, his own voice sounding far away. What do you think I’ve been doing, he wanted to scream. You’re part of my family, I chose you, I chose you for my son. But the words just clawed at his throat, and died there as Buck left for his apartment.

 ---

Hi-beams cut off his vision, making Eddie almost miss the light change. He slammed his breaks, harsher than he did when Christopher was in the back seat and cursed at the fifth red light he'd hit on the way to Buck's. He pulled a deep breath in through his teeth, counted before releasing, feeling the adrenaline of the last fifteen minutes leave his body. Chris was safe, he reminded himself. Chris was safe and sound at Buck's loft. Even if Eddie was such a shitty father that he hadn't even noticed he was gone until he'd already arrived.

Just another parenting failure.

He'd known Christopher was upset. He thought letting him cool down would be best. Nice to know that was the wrong move.

The light turned green. He hit the gas, only a minute away from Buck's. He'd just have to keep trying.

At least he'd gone to Buck's. At least the Uber driver hadn't been a psychopath, or a predator, or any of the horror stories that came up on Dateline.

At least Buck had been home to be there for him.

He pulled into Buck’s parking lot, stuck using a visitor spot since Albert was there, and ran into the building, rushing up the steps to his floor. Eddie yanked open the door to the loft, searching until he saw Christopher sitting at the counter, cheerfully eating carrot sticks while Buck whipped something up on the stove.

Their heads snapped up in tandem as they heard him barge in. Buck turned the stove off and moved in to cut him off before Eddie could grab Christopher. “Eddie, can we have a minute, real quick?”

He nodded, staring at Christopher, safe and whole, nodding jerkily, “Is he okay?”

Buck nodded, “I tore the Uber driver a new one. He told Christopher he was going to stick around until someone came out to tell him Chris was with an adult.”

“Thanks.”

“I also got the license plate, if you want to give it to Athena and have her yell some more.”

Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Did he tell you why he ran off, or what the hell he was thinking? I mean, I didn’t think he’d be throwing a party over me dating again, but this?”

“So, I don’t think it’s necessarily about that,” Buck whispered, looking carefully at Chris. “I think it’s just the last straw. I mean, with Covid, and remote school, and not being able to see people like his Abuela.”

“That’s it?” he let out a rush of breath through his teeth. “What the hell am I supposed to do about that?” he asked Buck.

He looked back at Eddie, face screwed up, “Not quite.” When Eddie didn’t respond, Buck continued. “He said something about everyone leaving. Like Mom left, and wishing he could forget people leaving. I think he’s worried about getting attached, and them leaving anyway.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Look, you guys haven’t eaten yet. I’ve got macaroni and a veggie sauce on the stove. Stay for dinner, and you two can talk for a bit before you take him home.”

Eddie crossed his arms, thinking about the remainder of the salad still sitting on his counter. “Yeah, that works. I’m sorry about all this, by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m here for you guys, you know that.”

Eddie blinked at the casual ease at which Buck always offered them his help, only asking (silently) for a place in their lives.

“Yeah, I know. Still, probably not how you pictured your evening going. Didn’t you have that thing, with Albert and Veronica”

Buck scoffed, then headed back towards the stove, “Probably the best part of the evening, if I’m being honest. I’ll tell you later.”

“Kay. Thanks again. I’m glad he has you. To, you know, run away to when I’m making him mad.”

Buck smiled. “I’m pretty happy to have him, too. Though we did have a talk about using the phone to call me, next time he’s mad and wants a little space. Right, Christopher?” he asked, ruffling Chris’s hair as he passed him. Eddie pulled Chris into his arms, and kissed his hair. They’d talk about groundings, and discipline, and make therapy appointments in the morning. Right now, he was going to hold his son close in his partner’s kitchen, and be grateful he had eyes on both of them.

---

Sweat beaded on his forehead, phantom aches haunted his chest on both sides, and Eddie kept his body rigid, feeling his breath shove his ribs apart, then escape in short, shallow pants, scratching and clawing at his throat. His hand shot up to his throat, grappling and scratching around until it gained purchase on the thin chain Shannon had given to him nine years ago now and slid until he had a grip on that small medallion. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and wiped his thumb across the familiar ridges he'd memorized on a plane to Kabul.

Eddie had no clue how long he'd lain there, catching his breath, eyes clenched shut, trying to banish the blood-covered faces and pulseless wrists from his head, but eventually, he heard chirping from the other side of the window, and knew it was going to be one of those days.

He dropped Christopher off at Pepa's, faking a smile until he saw his son disappear through her doors, and let his body go for a moment, only getting a fucking moment before his alarm went off, and he drove off to the station.

Buck frowned when he saw him in the locker room, "Man, you okay?"

"Fine," he said, rubbing the space between his eyes to try and relieve the tension that always seemed to be lurking there.

"You don't look fine."

"Couldn't sleep well. I'm good, promise."

He didn't look convinced but didn't press. "If you're sure."

"Positive."

Eddie ran up to the loft where Chimney was waiting with fresh baby photos of an adorably gassy Jee-Yun, successfully avoiding further inquiries into his sleeping habits. The calls kept them busy, giving him an excuse to stay quiet in between. After they got back from a call where the twenty-something-year-old fell off the trellis to his old room while his parents bickered over how to parent their adult child, they trudged back up to the loft. Eddie knew he should try to get some sleep. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not here, at the firehouse.

He folded himself into an armchair, checking to see if Pepa had texted him after he’d called to say goodnight to Christopher, but there was nothing.

 Coffee was put in front of him, and Eddie looked up to see Buck standing next to him at the counter, sipping from his own mug. Eddie looked at the drink in front of him and saw that the color was slightly lighter, a dash of creamer already added. He lifted it to his lips and smelled the peppermint before he tasted it. "Pretty sure Bobby said specialty creamers were a waste of fridge space and grocery money."

Buck shrugged, "I bought the creamer, and we've got space in the fridge right now."

"You bought the creamer."

"Yeah."

Eddie blinked, "You hate peppermint. You really hate it in coffee."

"Other people like it. Besides, it's probably not going to be on the shelf much longer. Might as well grab it while it's here."

"Thanks," Eddie said, taking a sip of his coffee, relaxing as the sharp peppermint cut through the bitter coffee, but not overwhelmingly so. Perfect. He sank deeper into the chair, his head leaning against the outside of Buck’s hip, sipping the coffee, Buck a comforting presence next to him, his body heat radiating through his uniform. Buck had been so vibrant earlier in the day, showing off the chainsaw to the kids, taking delight in their curiosity and joy at the loud, destructive tool.

But here, when it was just the two of them? He was calm and caring, seeing what Eddie needed and quietly providing it.

He’s going to make such a good Dad one day. They had a brief moment of quiet right now, everyone else having disappeared to the bunks. It was just the two of them. They’d been talking about parenting and children all day today. He could find a segue way into Buck’s role in Christopher’s life. It’s permanence, and what Eddie wanted.

He just needed to be able to talk about it without his throat closing up around him, locking everything down.  

*Bring!!!* The alarm cut through the air, and Eddie chugged the rest of his hot coffee, wincing and spluttering as it burned his tastebuds, and the peppermint coated the inside of his mouth and throat.

“We gonna get a break at any point?” Chim asked, rubbing his hand over his face. Life with a newborn and invalid brother wouldn’t be letting him sleep while he was off shift, so he must have been looking forward to the bunk room.

Hen shook her head, “You know better than to ask that kind of question.”

Eddie shook his head at their banter, climbing into the truck, wide awake now, rubbing his throat in an attempt to soothe it from the irritation.

---

Crack

A shock of pain sliced through him. He turned back in front of him, trying to figure out what had happened. Why his chest felt like a bomb had gone off inside him.

Buck.

Buck, covered in blood, horror on his face, jaw dropped. Going into shock. Eddie realized. That happened with blood loss. He had to get to Buck. Figure out where Buck was bleeding from, and get him help. Get them both help.

Eddie went to take a step forward.

And collapsed like a puppet.

Screams exploded all around him, explosions going off in tandem. No, gunfire. Someone was shooting at them. Metal clashed against metal in a familiar refrain, one he thought he'd left behind in the Valley of Death, or sometimes visited in his dreams.

This wasn't a dream.

This was the wrong shoulder to be a dream.

He fell on his side, pain rocketing through his shoulder and chest, exploding behind his eyes as his head hit tar next. Eddie stared ahead and saw Buck and Captain Mehta on the ground on the other side of the truck, Buck's eyes fixed on him, blood still covering his face.

He couldn’t help Buck. Buck couldn’t help him. Not like this.

He felt his shirt cling to his skin where it was wet and sticky, and his head felt tacky on the ground, warm liquid pooling around him while bullets continued around him in what had to be a mashup of his worst nightmares.

Normally when he dreamed someone was bleeding out in the middle of the street, they were wearing a yellow blouse, curls fanned out around them. Or they were in LAFD sweats and a jacket, face down, trapped away from help.

He didn't dream about being in this position.

Just the useless one, who could only sit there and hold a hand.

This wasn't a dream.

Pain started fading from his chest as he pumped more blood onto the street below him. Couldn't have been long since he was shot. Maybe a minute.

Bullets were still flying.

He was dying out here.

He was going to leave his son. Again.

And he might not even be able to leave him with Buck.

Buck, fiercely loyal Buck, who didn't know he was about to get the most precious part of Eddie.

Who was yelling, screaming something he couldn’t make out, but it didn’t matter.

He was coming for Eddie. He would always come for Eddie.

And Eddie had never told him. Would never be able to tell him.

Something, someone, gripped his wrist and pulled, tearing at the hole in him and dragging, the faded pain lighting up and ricocheting around his body. Grit and rocks scraped his back up, tearing through his uniform as he was moved like a rag doll, his surroundings a blurry vision through half-closed lids, lightening and darkening every moment. He went weightless, arms wrapped around his body as he was slung into the air, and then slammed onto something hard. More screams echoed around him, and glass kept shattering, and bullets kept skidding off metal.

The familiar scent of lit gasoline hit him, and he reflexively woke up. His shirt was being ripped off, and Buck’s face came into view again, even redder, and covered in more blood, which had now smeared itself all over his shirt.

“Are you hurt,” he grits out, because he needed to know, he needed Buck to be okay, Christopher needed Buck to be okay. Someone had to go home to him tonight. Someone needed to be there for the rest of his life.

Buck looked down at himself, and he heard a faint, “No, no, I’m good, Eddie,” and he allowed himself to fade out, Buck’s calloused hands gently cradling his face. Buck was fine. He’d take care of Christopher. Just in case.

His boys would be taken care of.

+1

The door opened quietly, and someone sat down in the chair next to his bed. A small hand took hold of his and started soft strokes across the knuckles, and a soft, questioning noise escaped their throat. Ana. She’d given the two of them some space, waving to Christopher and Carla through the screen as they started before making a quick exit.

He’d probably scared her when he woke up and begged to know where Buck was the second the ventilator tube was pulled out of his throat, choking on the single syllable about five times before she understood what he was asking.

He faded in and out of consciousness, Buck's words ricocheting in his head like a bullet. Better for him if I'd been the one to get shot.

Did Buck seriously not see?

See how important he was to Eddie, to Christopher?

How he'd stepped into their lives on Day One, and been there for them in all the ways they'd needed?

How could he? You never told him.

Buck had grown up with parents who never understood him, or seemed to be capable of showing love in a way that a child could comprehend. But he’d become a man who expressed his love without question.

Eddie had never been able to do that. Had never been as free with his words. But his partner kept thinking he was expendable. He’d tried showing Buck that they were his family, that they needed him to stay with them, that they wanted him around. That Eddie needed Buck with him.

He didn’t seem to listen.