#freaking long things

But now that the finish line is near, now that it’s all a little quieter and that future is now palpable between in his fingers, and he’s on his way to where he wants to be, all the things he bottled up are now pressing against the airlocked door. Frank helps, ever so cryptic, Christopher helps with his beaming smile, and Buck, Buck who’s simply there, awake and talking, always looking and waiting for him every single day, helps. Even his parents help, in their own way, when they don’t question his educational choices with his son or on his life choices, in general.

And maybe it’s because he’s happy now, happier, because he finally sees the light at the end of the tunnel, he finally sees the finish line and it’s almost where he wants to be, with his beautiful and smart kid, next to Buck for the rest of his life, that the door, always well closed, is giving in.

It started with a nightmare, one night he wouldn’t know how long ago, but now it’s all more present, heavier, more urgent. Because now he’s finally lowering his defences, something that before he couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t let go. And this thing that eats away at his eyes and eats his days, it sticks to him like a bad habit. It’s the distant, familiar hissing of the smoke, just before the explosion, just before Buck was torn from him, trapped under that house, in that hell of flames and ashes.

It smells like smoke, that night, in his nightmare it doesn’t even look like a ton, it’s just the smell of something, even a piece of paper, burning. And he has the clear feeling of the wind sweeping on his face the dust and dirt, the temperature rising.

And before he can react, can run to the burning house that collapses piece by piece, Buck’s voice echoing mechanically in his head, he wakes up.

And it takes a moment to remember.

Just to remember that the bed is only temporarily empty and cold, that Buck will soon, very soon, as soon as the doctors decide he can be discharged, he’ll come home, and he shouldn’t feel so… broken. He really shouldn’t but─

His blood is pounding in his ears as his heart is pounding in his chest. Between his trembling fingers he holds the sheet while his feet tingle.

Clouded by a sleep that hasn’t been at all restful and by a nightmare that has taken his breath away, his head needs another moment to realize that that uncomfortable feeling that now hangs on his chest like a boulder, the heart throbbing and the sight blurring as if looking at the room through a strange wide angle, is something he already knew. Something that has accompanied him for a long time. And that sometimes hurts more than a heart attack.

It’s panic, plain and simple.

But as usual he decides to bottle all this and label it as “having a moment”, and closes again the door of his airlocked room.

.

It’s one in a long line of nightmares, which usually only take his sleep away when he’s at home, and not when he’s at the station, alert, ready for a call.

He’s gotten pretty good at covering up even in front of Frank’s expert eye, little conversations about future plans now that Buck’s coming home soon, about how his parents are spending Christmas with them in Los Angeles, how Christopher decided that Santa Claus still exists, despite all the evidence. He talks about the complicated relationship between Buck and his sister, how he can help them to pacify, him who was about to give up. And he speaks of it lightly, trying to ignore the spectre that awaits him at home at night, or worse, that will appear as soon as he is alone.

This isn’t the time to break, not now, not now that Buck is coming home. He’s just having a moment, he has to bottle it up and close the door and forget. As soon as Buck gets back, everything’s gonna be fine. He has to work, he can’t burden Buck, or his parents or… absolutely not. He just has to get over it and continue. Autopilot and go. So, when he remains alone he plants his fingernails in the palms of his hands and tightens his eyes so hard and tight as not to think, the murmur of the smoke hissing in his ears, the sirens flashing behind his eyelids.

At first he decided it was just a reaction to all the stress, to everything that he and Buck found themselves living, but now it’s like chronic, a bad habit. Before there was that murmur under his skin, that didn’t make him sleep much, that urge to hit things to vent everything that’s crowded in his head in the only way he knows for sure works. But he’s been down that road before, and it doesn’t lead anywhere. And now things have changed, Buck’s getting better every day a bit more and he’s on his way home, and Eddie really doesn’t know what to do, because as soon as he lowers his guard, he’s there on the edge of the cliff, there ready to break.

Then again, it’s not the time. It’s not the time to break. It’s not the time. And in his heart, he knows, as soon as Buck’s out of there, as soon as they’re off those straw yellow walls, he’s gonna get better, and even if he breaks a little bit, Buck’s gonna help him get all his bits back and put them back where they belong. All his things in the right place, the bottles still behind the hermetic door.

Buck has a trained eye, perhaps more than Frank’s, and can recognize the fractures and the tiniest cracks in Eddie’s mask, and as much as he wants to avoid going to Buck’s room and burden him with his bad mood and everything he carries around, he can’t help himself. Now that Buck’s talking, still cheerful even when the day is awfully long and tiring, Eddie can’t force himself not to go. The few times he didn’t visit, he spent over an hour on the phone with him, but that’s not enough. Buck knows, and maybe just because he’s polite and kind doesn’t say it, but he knows Eddie’s broken, and he’s doing everything he can to be strong for both of them. Buck survived hell, a real hell, and back, struggled for months between life and death, and when they were letting him go, he came back with his own strength and he’s getting better, every day he’s a little better, and yet he’s still keeping Eddie afloat, swimming, swimming, and swimming like Dory. And it should be this the time that Eddie is more needed, to make Buck feel better, he shouldn’t be the ballast and take Buck down alongside with him, not like this, not now. He can’t take his son and Buck with him into his abyss, he should at least collect his pieces by himself, close the door of his emotions for good and bottle everything, every single thing. Forget the panic, the terror, the loss. Forget everything. But the only way he can forget and close it, now, is by going to Buck’s and spend time with him. What they call a snake biting its own tail.

He goes to him either before he goes to work or right after, as soon as his shift is over, even when it’s late and he should be home already.

The routine is new and at the same time always the same, he sneaks into the room when he knows for sure that there is no one other than Buck, and climbs the bed and then falls there, with a boisterous poff.

And Buck usually mumbles, if he’s asleep, or laughs breathless if he’s awake, tightening his arm around his shoulders.

.

It’s the same on Wednesday. After two intense weeks, the entering in December that made people even dumber, that tend to crowd in stores to shop (nothing as scary as Black Friday, but enough to have to free people from under the shelves on a daily basis), his parents, who wander around the house and even judge his choices on the smallest trifles, after a very long weekend, in which materially he could only see Buck via Facetime, and a very heavy meal over at Bobby’s that was their late Thanksgiving dinner, finally that Wednesday he managed to go to recharge his batteries before going to work.

Eddie’s seen a lot of things, a lot of weird things in his life, maybe too much even. Between his time in the army and his work here in Los Angeles, he’s seen a lot of quirks. But this is beyond anything else.

It’s mid-afternoon, when he gets to the hospital and he hears Buck laughing and chirping something at someone or something he describes as adorable, so Eddie thinks it’s Maddie, who again brought him the latest pictures of her baby girl, that Buck can’t wait to meet to become an uncle full-time, especially now that between them, after that half discussion, has returned a tranquillity and complicity that Eddie envies.

But when he turns the corner of the hall, ready to enter the room, he finds Ramon Diaz himself sitting next to Buck’s bed, showing him pictures from his smartphone. His father laughs and tells anecdotes and Buck definitely seems to have the moment of his life.

And Eddie must have suffered a head injury and it must be some kind of hallucination, or he went crazy, that’s all that could have happened at an initial examination. By bottling his problems, he lost his last neurons in the effort, it’s called apoptosis, the process of programmed cell death, or maybe he caused a clot or something. It’s the only reasonable explanation.

When Eddie enters, his father gets up and bids his goodbye to Buck. “I guess that’s my cue, I’ll leave you in good hands”.

“In the best hands, I’d say” Buck quips, shaking his hand. “Say hello to Helena and give Chris a tight hug for me”.

“Will do” Ramon nods, passing next to Eddie and squeezing his hand on his shoulder blade. “Be good” he recommends jokingly before sneaking out the door.

Eddie looks at Buck in disbelief, all busy taking a sip from his straw, and he doesn’t know whether to call himself incredulous or worried about that blow to the head yesterday, a water bottle addressed to Hen that Chim launched with his terrible aim and took him behind the back of the head, which clearly caused real, permanent damage.

“My dad?” that’s all Eddie can mumble, confused.

“What can I say, I’m my usual charming self” Buck jibes, shrugging his shoulders before spreading his arms. “Have you come to recharge your batteries?”

“My Buckeries, yes” he replies by crouching on the bed with the usual noisy poff.

Buck caresses the back of his head with his fingertips and grins. “It seems that Chris and your abuelita did some convincing work on your father who now decided to be supportive and decided to come over here to probe the territory and assess the sincerity of my feelings… and bribe me with some compromising photos of you as a child”.

Eddie snorts, rolling his eyes. “Dios, how inconvenient was it from one to ten?”.

“Well, as a kid, you were pretty adorable… and judging by what he told me, Chris gets his sassiness from you” he murmurs, his tone cheerful, happy.

And Eddie couldn’t ever fathom the idea of Buck and his father getting along. “I mean with my dead, was he… you know?”.

Buck snuggles closer, his fingers carding softly in Eddie’s hair. “Well, he was a bit weird at first. But if you count I had a lame talk with my dad before I met your dad, it ended up smoothly”.

“What a beautiful little shitty day” Eddie growls, looking up at him, to try to understand, only from his eyes, from his expression how much the phone call with his father stuck on him.

“Could have been worse” he says, with his bewitching grin. “At least my dad stopped with the usual litany and convinced himself that you and Chris are good for me, plus now I can snuggle with you for a bit, and that’s somehow turning it perfect”.

“You are a sap” Eddie snorts, but then narrows his eyes. It’s been a long week for Buck, too, with long conversations, not to call them phone fights, with his dad over something he didn’t tell Eddie about, he just knows they’ve been talk-fighting a lot. Buck doesn’t talk much about his family, he hasn’t even given him any details about how he and Maddie figured their argument out, much less about his parents. And in addition to feeding the hospital with his insurance and maybe some donations, the man hasn’t shown up there yet, not to mention the mother who’s never even heard from as far as Eddie knows. “That’s good, then” it’s all that he says, rubbing his cheek against Buck’s neck.

“I wouldn’t be so surprised if, along the way, my dad and yours started playing squash together” Buck murmurs.

Eddie snorts. “I think my dad would play his hip before he played squash”.

“I thought it was my father’s too, but instead…” Buck grumbles and shrugs. “Maybe they’d prefer golf,” he adds. “Or maybe we better not support their friendship, it would be weird”.

Eddie nods softly. “We might as well decide not to really talk about our parents, and ignore their existence for a while in our little bubble for a while, what do you think?”.

“It might be a good idea. Charging our respective batteries and talking about the weather is a viable alternative” Buck mutters tightening his grip on Eddie.

Eddie stays there quietly, eyes half closed. And that thing in his chest, that thing that weighs behind his eyes, those emotions, those negative thoughts all bottled up that are piling up one by one in his airlock, they seem to slowly disappear, while Buck talks softly and tells him about physiotherapy, the last visit he made, new medicines that finally do not leave him a bad mouth, all bitter and dry.

And Eddie is there enjoying the moment, in an almost religious silence, letting himself be lulled by his voice, by his fingers carding in his hair, his breath soft ghosting on his skin.

“What are you doing on Friday?” Buck asks him out of the blue, and Eddie knows he has to exit is daze and answer.

“Friday? The day after tomorrow?” he asks, pulling himself up.

“Yeah, what’s your shift?” he mumbles. “I wanted to know if… I guess it’s a mess so…”.

Eddie closes his eyes. “12 hours. I come in at 9 and I leave at 9”. He doesn’t ask him why, because Buck’s on his way home, and he already knows it’s the last routine visits before he is discharged. Maybe he wants help, maybe he wants company. Buck wanted to manage them himself, all the visits, asking Eddie and Maddie not to be there and both agreed with a certain reluctance: after all he is getting better, and he doesn’t need two bundles of nerves there with him during his visits.

“Ah, okay… no, out of time” he says, then pulling a long sigh and stretching his legs under the covers.

“Evan, if you want I can…” he starts to say. “I can change shift… I can ask Jonathan to…”.

“No, don’t worry. Work is important and then…” Buck murmurs softly. “Don’t worry about it. No problem absolutely”.

“I’ll come tomorrow night and spend the night with you?” he whispers.

“You can’t always sleep here, Eds. You’re going to get arthritis. The bed isn’t that big and you’re all crumpling around me.” he replies. “And every time you leave me here all hard and I have to explain to the nurses that that’s a very very normal, physiologic reaction to my very steaming hot boyfriend”.

Eddie rolls his eyes with a whiff and leans in closer, burrowing in his side. “I’m comfortable like this! and then it will get easier when you’ll be home with me… and I could always help you with that in the bathroom if you want…” he mumbles, and has no time to say no more, or act on that long-awaited quick hand-job in the bathroom, that the alarm clock he set to give himself time to get to the station begins to ring.

“It’s time” Buck says. “I know you want to put your hands in my pants, but you’ll have to wait, mister”.

Eddie rolls his eyes huffing a sigh loudly. “I have to go. I’ll text every time we get back at the station.” he promises and reluctantly rises from bed and begins to recover his things.

“Be careful out there,” he hears him whispering.

With his bag on his shoulder, Eddie smiles and leans over him to put a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight and behave, don’t make too many nurses angry or blush”.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says before he reaches out and steals a kiss from his lips.

.

.

.

The proverbial drop that breaks the camel’s back falls on that Friday night, almost at the end of their shifts. It was a rough day, he didn’t have a moment to call Buck, yet alone to text him, and when he finally managed to carve out those for or five minutes, his phone battery decided to die before he could even make the call, and then the alarm went off again.

Once back, he put the phone in charge and then did his best to lay the table, because he is still banned from the kitchen, and probably will be forever.

By Chim’s great persistent request, the late thanksgiving turkey leftovers had to be transformed into a skewed Mexican fiesta, his words, not Eddie’s.

For the occasion, Eddie’s parents brought their precious help. Complaining about the terrible, horrible, bagged tortillas, his mother set to work kneading them by hand and his father meanwhile shredded his colleagues over at the pinball machine, to Christopher’s immense delight.

.

But before even sitting around the table, as usual for such special occasions, the alarm went of again.

The scene is weirdly, ominously familiar. It looks like his nightmares, or his memories, or a strange mixture of both.

To be cynical, fires all look a bit alike. Fire that burns, walls that give up, smoke, ashes, heat. It’s all easily traced back to other actions, other interventions, and yet…

Eddie can’t ignore the fact that it’s all weirdly similar to that day. What it’s been repeating for nights in his nightmares and he’s trying his best to ignore. To what’s still etched in his mind every time he closes his eyes and probably will never go away.

.

They are a backup for the 412, that’s already on the scene.

The fire is huge, and the cloud of white smoke can be seen from miles and miles away, swelling in the black sky. It started to rain recently and the noise of the water pouring from the hydrants almost covers the echo of voices in their walkies.

This one too is neighbourhood that certainly, before the economic crisis, had to be beautiful, flourishing. Rows of two-storey, pastel coloured cottage-like houses now have plaster mangled by time.

In a corner of his visual field, Eddie notices a bunch of kids getting scolded from a fireman, maybe the 412 captain and a cop.

The backdraft must have brought down part of the house, which is already grotesquely bent over. Part of the upper floor collapsed and chomped on the lower. That too was a beautiful house, in a beautiful neighbourhood, before the crisis and that fire.

The roof, failing, scrunched itself taking away part of the frontage.

The smoke, meanwhile, swells and vibrates, whispers in the sky like a disturbing echo, drums in his ears, like an old well-known song, and delivers a shiver along his spine.

There are people shouting, members of 412 increasing the pressure of water on the house that continues to crumble like a cookie overcooked and dunk too long and begins to look more and more like a pile of flames, dust, and debris.

Bobby barks orders that Eddie can’t hear right now. All the oxygen is ripped from his lungs when a rumble comes from the house, when it folds completely and crumples on itself and the rest of the upper floor crushes the one below. The plywood that splatters off with the glass and the soot like bullets and gunpowder.

They have to act quickly; Eddie must get his fucking shit together and start helping.

There’s a trapped firefighter, he can hear on the radio. A trapped fireman just like Buck. He must have been trapped in the house, too. Apparently, he heard someone asking for help.

This time like that other terrible day, the wind rises, and the speed makes the fire widen even more, which now with much more oxygen burns even more intensely. It is always the change of direction of the air currents that influences most, and dangerously, the fire. And that house now more than ever becomes a trap of flames and smoke.

And they all hurry to bring their help. But the fire is fast, in less than thirty seconds a flame can become an immense fire, and it takes only a few minutes for the fire to thicken and blacken and fill the spaces of the house, that ends up engulfed in the flames. And the fire is hot, the heat is much scarier than the flames, and it goes from 100 degrees to 600 like a trifle. Inhaling this superhot air will scorch your lungs and melt clothes to your skin. And the fire is dark, it , starts bright, but it’s a matter of minutes and it produces smoke and with it, complete darkness. Fire is deadly. Smoke and toxic gases kill more people than flames do, fire produces poisonous gases that make you drowsy and disoriented. And then, then there’s asphyxiation.

At best, this firefighter has had more or less the same luck as Buck finding himself in a kind of free zone, and they just have to find his way out, with the oxygen tank and the turnout gear they might still have some hope, some time. Although the house is now a pile of debris, breath of flames and wind. But miracles rarely happen, and they have already had more than one.

And that’s why they have to put maximum power in the hydrants, to give their best.

But when they hear the torn apart scream coming from someone of the 412, everything seems to stop.

Blood pounds in Eddie’s ears. His heart thuds in his chest. He needs a moment to readjust his shaking hands on the hose and to plant his tingling feet better on the ground. Flames, smoke, and his vision disfigures, darkening.

He tries to focus on the fire hose, ignoring the overwhelming sense of dread, or the fact that he somehow  just forgot how to fucking breath, while his heartrate escalates quickly.

His mouth is dry, his windpipe closing up.

He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be there. Buck needed him, today, he needed him at the hospital. He wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

There is too much of a risk of someone walking over and notice him.

He clutches the fire hose, his hands wrapped so tightly that his nails dug into his gloves. Breathing is hard, like he’d just run around the world and back, his chest growing tight as bile rises in his throat.

He has to get his fucking shit together and help. No one has to live what he and Buck endured, but he can’t do a single thing, with his head spinning, dizziness taking the upper hand and his stomach churning.

And again, like that other time, like when Buck was trapped in that burning hell, he feels detached from the situation, it’s like looking at himself from an external point of view.

.

It’s unreal.

For another couple of minutes, it’s unreal.

Until they finally take that fireman out of what’s left of the house on a gurney, his face covered with a blanket. And Eddie has to focus on something else, his eyes glued on the smoking debris, trying to ignore the pain raising in his chest and the dizziness, as the 412 ambulance moves slowly, surrounded by the crew. He has to remember that Buck is almost home. Just that.

It takes them half an hour to put out the remaining fire, and by the time they hop back on the truck, it’s almost midnight.

No one is talking all the ride back to the station. It’s usually like this when a crew loses a member, but there’s something else in the air.

Eddie’s in the locker room, still feeling a little dazed, battered, tired, even after the shower, breath still struggling to normalize. He looks at his now charged phone and knows he can’t call Buck tonight, it’s already late and he’s probably already asleep, and yet he needed to see him or at least hear his voice.

“You’re seeing too many similarities, let me tell you” Chim grumbles, as the two paramedics enter the locker room, once they get back to the station, after fixing the ambulance for the next shift.

“Or maybe you don’t want to see…” Hen protests, fiddling with her locker, to retrieve a spare T-shirt and a towel, ready to head to the showers.

“No idea you were such a conspiracy maniac,” Chim shrugs his shoulders. “I was the one with the stalking crow”.

And she snorts loudly. “I’m just saying that I think they’re connected,” she states. “Think about it. A fire in a neighbourhood like this, in an empty house, the cop said there were kids there too… then add that the one of the 412 crew members said that they heard someone call for help before getting trapped…” Hen numbers and then she stops. “Sounds like a pattern to me”.

“Plotter,” Chim retorts. “Cap, what do you think?”.

“I don’t think it’s a pattern,” says the captain, shrugging his shoulders. “As different as they are, fires that break out in similar situations have more or less the same pattern,”.

“Exactly what I say, better expressed, but that’s what I say.” Chim replies. “What do you say, Eddie?”.

But he doesn’t say anything.

“But if they’ve heard someone… it just seems…” Hen continues to say.

“I’m sure the fire inspectors will evaluate everything and eventually contact us if necessary,” Bobby replies. “I know when Buck got better and could talk, they heard him anyway, but it’s standard procedure. As we had to do, in the days following his accident”.

“Eddie?” Bobby calls him. “A word?”.

And Eddie sighs in the hurry to lace his shoes and  then follows Bobby out of the locker room. Bobby knows, maybe not as well as Buck, the small fractures in his mask, he knows that somewhere there is a deeper crack, and the mask would crumble entirely.

“Are you all right?” he asks as soon as they are alone. “Is Buck… you know?”.

Eddie looks at him, a certain confusion that clouds his sight. “Yes. He is good, I know you went to visit him”.

Bobby lets slip a deaf laugh. “It took a bit of courage, but the alternative was to get kicked in the ass by Athena. I don’t like to see him there”.

“And think he’s better now,” adds Eddie, the voice stricter than he actually wants.

“I know, I realize. Look… If you had to clock off hours ago, why don’t you take a day off tomorrow and be with him?” Bobby suggests, his voice gentle.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. Going to Buck’s could help him feel a bit better, or he could drop his mask completely and he can’t afford to be seen cracked, shattered, broken. He can’t lose Buck; he has to take some time and think. “A few hours will do” he says, “Maybe I’ll come in a bit late and…”.

“Take the day off, I insist. Surely you also noticed the same similarities Hen noticed” adds Bobby squeezing a hand on his shoulder. “And before you ask, I’m telling you to stay with Buck because you’ve been looking like a ghost for days, and today has certainly been hard for everyone… but Buck will do you good. Take a day and stay with him, sometimes the people we love can bring peace in our hearts”.

Eddie grits his teeth, tightens his jaw and nods. “I will take advantage of it,” he says before heading to his truck and returning home, a tiredness that takes his breath away and weighs him down like a boulder, as soon as he is alone.

.

When he arrives at home that night, he is somewhat reassured by the fact that the lights are off and he will not have to undergo a further grilling by his father, who lately weighs his life choices with increasing vehemence. The only light on is the little night light on Chris' nightstand and the one in his bedroom, that is always on when he gets home late.

And it’s like a lighthouse, a harbour to go back to, and so he slips into his son’s bedroom and the weight on his shoulders suddenly disappears.

He has to hold on a bit more. It’ll get better. He repeats himself slowly in his head until his breath completely normalizes and is almost at the point of falling asleep, right then and there, sitting on the ground, near Chris’s bed.

And maybe because his son is a perfect child, or maybe because he has some strange sixth sense, when he moves and just stretches out in bed and opens one eye and then another, he smiles at him, with his sleepy but dazzling smile, and everything seems to disappear.

“You’re back,” he says in his tiny, adorable voice, kneaded by sleep.

“Always” Eddie murmurs under his breath. “You should sleep, you know?”.

“I can stay awake. No school tomorrow… already done all the weekend homework” he snorts and sits up. “So we go to the planetarium with abuelo”.

“And then you’ll get tired… It’s late…” Eddie murmurs, feigning a peremptory tone, which cannot actually slip out of his mouth, in all honesty.

Chris rolls his eyes pursing his lips “I don’t get tired! It’s the planetarium. I learn all the important things! So then when we go with Bucky I’ll teach him!”.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie mumbles, stretching a smile.

“You look like you’re having a bad day,” Chris says, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll take you to bed? I’ll tuck you in!”.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie mumbles, stretching a smile.

“You have the bad-day face” Chris says, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll take you to your bed. I’ll tuck you in!”.

Eddie is taken aback. His son, his marvellous, funny, smart and perceptive son, reads right through him as an open book.

“Daddy” he says softly. “Are you sad?”.

He clenches his jaw. “I’m just a bit tired, it was a long day, and I couldn’t eat your abuela’s cooking”.

“So, you are hungry! Make a sandwich? Abuela took a plate of leftovers for you” he suggests before yawning.

“Nah, I think I’m going straight to bed, you should sleep too, it’s a big day tomorrow” he murmurs.

“Hugs can help. Like we do with Bucky!” Chris asks with his tiny and bright smile, stretching his arms wide open.

“Always” he leans in and sighs softly, in a slight contentment, when his kid’s vanilla and strawberry shampoo hits his nostrils. It helps, it always helped. “I love you buddy, sleep tight”.

“I can come with you, I can tuck you in” his kid says. “You always do that for me”.

“That’s a dad’s job, you know? One of my favourites, really” Eddie says.

Chris moves, pulls the covers aside and gets out of bed with some effort, but without asking for help, when his bare feet touch the floor he mutters something under his breath, and then he reaches his hand out to his dad. And Eddie can’t even describe how he feels right now, he doesn’t have enough words to assess the magnificence of his son.

They walk quietly to Eddie’s bedroom, not to wake his parents and most of all, not to explain why his kid is awake so late.

The light on Eddie’s bedside table is still on, it’s always on when he works late, when Chris opens the door, the wonderful smile he beams to his dad, is breath-taking. “Surprise!” he says, not so loud, but enough to reveal all the joy and excitement.

And it takes Eddie a moment to fully function again. He looks over at the bed and he sees Buck and it’s like a mirage.

There’s Buck, awake in his, their?, bed. A book on his lap and a stupid goofy smile on his face when he looks up at Eddie. “Hey there, honey”.

And Chris giggles.

“Too much?” Buck asks Chris with a smirk.

The kid nods. “You sound like Maya’s grandma”.

And Buck snorts. “Hey! I’m not that old!” he retorts softly. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping by now, mister?”.

“Yes! But I wanted to see daddy’s face” Chris says. “He was sad before”.

Eddie wouldn’t know how he feels now, or at least he can’t put it into words. But happy is certainly not a concept big enough to describe what he feels.

“It was a long day for daddy. But his face surely is priceless, you are right” Buck says moving out of the bed with enough fluidity he doesn’t even look like someone who was literally discharged from the hospital today. “Let’s get you back in bed and let daddy take another shower, he is smoke-smelly” he adds, kissing Eddie’s cheek.

But Eddie stays there like a pillar of salt for a fraction of seconds, and then, out of muscle memory, he tags along, practically jumping back in the corridor. He watches Evan walk slowly, limping a bit, a hand on Christopher’s back. They talk under their breaths, and Eddie’s never seen his kid smiling like that in a long time.

Once in bed, it takes Chris like a couple of minutes to fall asleep again, his breath got measured and deeper, while he was still talking about what he’s gonna do tomorrow at the planetarium, and Eddie looks at him, and he could swear that he’s in full, best shape right now. Buck tucks Chris in and Eddie watches quietly, before heading back to the bedroom that for the first time, across the dark hallway seems finally cosy.

His room is no longer empty, dark, perhaps still a bit too neat and without any personality, but the bed is all undone, Buck tends to roll up in the blankets and must have been there a lot, since even on Eddie’s side of the sheet is all ruffled, a burgundy duffel bag laid on the ground near the closet, the clothes rolled over with little grace.

Eddie would say a lot of things, but his emotions are both strong and devastating. Buck is at home, at home with him, his fingers intertwined with his own, and he has no trouble imagining them, in a while in that bed, his moans muffled in the hollow of Buck’s neck. He can’t say anything until his mind is clear enough to be able to connect two thoughts in a row, but then he gives in and abandons himself against Buck. A hug that means more than just happiness. He’s so happy as his thoughts go, his mind a blank page for a moment, he’s so happy as Buck pulls him in and whispers something against his ear, something that sounds “fuck the shower”, and he’s so happy when, with a weak yelp, they find themselves on the mattress that bounces under them with a tiny, little squeal of springs.

Eddie remembers that, until proven otherwise, he knows how to speak when Buck starts to blow light kisses against the edge of his forehead, as if to draw a crown.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with a little voice.

“I wanted to surprise you, your face just now was priceless, error 404 page not found… A classic.” Buck mumbles as he barely moves and loosens his hug to settle with his back against the headboard of the bed. “Come, I’ll let you recharge all your Buckeries”.

“That’s what you were talking to my dad about the other day?” Eddie mutters, kicking off his shoes and then knee-butting the mattress until he reaches Buck’s side and crouches against him.

Buck starts to caress his hair slowly with the tip of his fingers. “’bout this and more and more, I told you, anecdotes of you as a child took a lot of time… The plan was to have dinner at the station, Athena and Karen came to pick me up at the hospital and they were going to drop me there tonight… but then you left so I had to move the surprise here”.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. There’s no smell of disinfectants, just his fragrant aftershave, patchouli, and something else with a weird name, he doesn’t even know how to pronounce. He’s not happy, he’s not just happy, he’s something that goes far beyond, something beyond imagination.

“I’ve seen the news, do you want to talk about it?” Buck whispers softly, the voice that now resembles a whisper, which breaks in the depth of his chest.

Eddie shakes his head, and sinks deeper into Buck’s neck. “I just want to forget”.

“We’ll have to talk about it at some point. Especially because I told you down there that we should get married, sooner or later we’re gonna have to face this conversation,” he says, amused.

“You said a lot of stupid things that day,” Eddie groans.

“Oh thank you,” Buck boos, still amused. “I thought I’d die down there. Should I have left you with something or not?”.

Eddie gets up, moving away from that safe harbor that is Buck’s chest to look at him in the eye. He wouldn’t know whether furious, wounded or terrified. Or perhaps a more appropriate mixture of the three. It would mean dozens and dozens of different things, but in the end he just sighs.

“Don’t worry,” Buck tells him, a small lacklustre smile that doesn’t reach the eyes. “It won’t happen again”.

“You always say that, but every time you do something stupid and…” Eddie smacks back. “And I stay here to pick up the pieces”.

“It won’t happen again” Buck repeats, his voice louder, confident. Sure. It’s like he’s not gonna do this shit anymore, he’s not gonna be the self-sacrificing idiot again. “You’re being unfair, I didn’t decide to blow up a ladder truck on my own leg”.

“You don’t know that. It’s almost certain that you’re gonna do something else like that” he mumbles. “And I’m talking about the embolism because you overexerted yourself”.

Buck snorts an unsophisticated laugh, squints his eyes, and just looks at him then, in silence, an eyebrow raised as if waiting for Eddie to finish talking or to reprimand him.

“You didn’t think about us, about the aftermath of all this” he continues. “You were leaving us, without… thinking about what we would do without you. I had to tell our kid that we were going to turn off your life support, because you were there for months and, you, always the hero, would love to help other people, and I feel awful because I was letting you go and…”.

“Eddie,” he hears Buck say, but he ignores his soft voice.

“You have a family here, you have a kid, me, who wait for you at home, you have to think about us. About the people you are going to leave and…” he stops looking at Buck.

Buck gulps, taking a heavy, shaking breath. “It won’t happen again,” he repeats in a steady voice. “And not because I wouldn’t do it again, because given the opportunity I’d most definitely do it you are right. If I had to choose between saving my sorry ass and saving yours or anyone else’s, I definitely wouldn’t save mine… far from it: for you, for Chris, for everyone in our family… I’d let you take the oxygen straight out of my chest” he mutters, words rolling on his tongue in such an effortless way that leaves Eddie almost scared.

And he just sits there, about to argue that this is one of the stupidest things someone could say but he sees him, he sees Evan stretching out to retrieve something in his nightstand drawer, a thick, white folder. A medical record. And everything he meant, which he was about to say, uncontrollable and angry and wounded, every single thing disappears from his head. There is tension, the kind of electricity that now whispers under his skin for a while and that today, just today that it should not be, that there should be only joy, is stronger than ever.

Buck sighs softly, his lips curled in half a grimace. “It won’t happen because I’m not going back to 118. Or in general I won’t be a fire fighter anymore”.

Eddie swallows in vain. The words, the reprimand that dies at the bottom of his throat and the only thing that manages to say is a stupid, weak: “What… what are you talking about?”.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and hands him the folder. “I recommend you not to read the very long list of accessory symptoms that I have and those that I could develop, or the even longer list of medicines that I will have to take for a while or the very sad diet that I have to follow to get back in shape, and go straight to the conclusions of the medical exams I did… the conclusions begin with ‘From the assessments and tests batteries performed by the patient and the equipe…’” he adds, retrieving his book and taking up where he left off.

Eddie looks over at Buck for a full minute before looking at the white folder. He sits better, his back against the headboard to read better and have the bedside light in his favour. He hastens to leaf through the pages. Its words, high-sounding, heavy, deep, describe inflammation of the heart wall, symptoms, pain in the chest, shoulders, neck, back, recurrent fever, palpitations, weakness, and shortness of breath. The cause appears to be the thoracic trauma he suffered, along with that wound whose causes are still unclear, that terrible day. Lab tests, all physiological tests, stress tests, all give the same diagnosis. And with every word, everything becomes clearer and heavier and Eddie’s breath gets shorter and shorter, and his stomach turns, nauseous, and tears sting his eyes. Everything clicks in its place: respiratory problems, nausea, intermittent fever, everything that Buck suffered before waking up and after, during his recovery, everything is there, in that folder and clicks together in a weird, ominous mechanism.

A very small part of him, and Eddie will forever hate that he even felt that tiny, almost transparent slice of him, is almost relieved: Buck won’t take any more risks at work, not with this diagnosis. But he gets chills and is disgusted even at the thought: he was relieved, he was relieved for a single moment that his companion, his lover, one who struggled with his nails and teeth for his work, repeatedly, to get back on his feet, and to get out of the hospital, now can’t go back to work, now can’t─Urgh! What a piece of shit he is.

Buck remains silent for a while, as if to give Eddie time to metabolize how much he sucks as a person. “Pericarditis” then he says out loud, to make it true or to exorcise the word. “One of those diseases that doesn’t allow you to do exhausting jobs and stressful physical activities… I could jeopardize my life and the lives of others. In addition to movement and breathing disorders due to coma and long-term intubation, not to mention possible side effects of the drugs.” he adds with an impressive ease, the voice gentle. “And we don’t even talk about the number of disquieting terms that have been chanted to describe the things that I could develop over time”.

“Evan, I…” he starts to say, but the words die down his throat. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this at all. He couldn’t wait to get back to work with Buck, to watch his back, to those moments of random chatter on the truck, to the bickering with the others, to be able to reach out and know that he would be there. Always there. Because he’s okay now, he’s home, finally, and it’s crazy to even think that he’s…

“In the end, it’s better this way.” Buck murmurs, settling better with his back against the pillows. “At least you won’t have to worry about me while you work. Neither you nor the others… I’ll be the one who’ll worry about you, from home or at the station. I will be on the side of the desperate wives, first row, right chair…” he says sighing. “My father would like me to go back to Hershey… There’s a place waiting for me in the family business, if I…”.

Eddie hastens to disagree, to say quickly that he can’t, absolutely can’t go away and the words are so many and they flock to the bottom of his throat. But Buck goes before him.

“I’ve already told him no. Repeatedly, at some point he’ll understand, I guess.” he snorts shaking his head with a small shrug. “On the other hand, HR offered me a position as a fire investigator. I just have to take a couple of exams; my SEALS training and my degree are enough to qualify and Athena could help me prepare and… I wouldn’t risk it’s practically a desk job so… Could you stop making that face?” he mutters with a raised eyebrow and a kind smile.

Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s doing, all he feels  is his eyes burning.

Buck reaches out and caresses his face. “Oh my God, don’t make that face! I’m not dying. I’m fine, except for a little shortness of breath but at least for sex I won’t have to do an EKG under stress every time, I checked… I asked the doctor explicitly, also because it would be a mess with the health insurance and all…” he tells him giggling and maybe Eddie rolls his eyes, or maybe he is frowning, because then Buck stretches out and sticks his finger pointing in the centre of his forehead right between his brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you go scowl like that”.

“Evan…” he finally says, with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I─I know how important working with the 118 is to you, being a fire fighter and…”.

“No,” he briefly disagrees. “I mean it’s wonderful working with y’all but… I have practically stumbled upon this job… which is─was perfect for me, yes” he murmurs. “But what is important to me is you, you all. It’s belonging to something. It’s no mystery that my family sucks a whole lot, but I know we’re a family, we would be anyway, even when I’m not working at 118 anymore…  because we found each other, all of us. We became a family, and there’s nothing I want more than this, something to belong to”.

Eddie’s lips quake for a split second before he leans in, kissing Buck’s cheekbone. “What are you going to tell the others?”.

“They know. Bobby knows, when he came to see me, I told him” he babbles. “I already sent my medical records to HR, but I wanted everyone to hear it from me. Tomorrow morning, I take the opportunity to go and sign some papers, which I should have signed today since I would come to the station… Chim knows this because Maddie was with me when I was first told and… Hen read my medical records and already tried to convince me to undergo the surgery”.

He was the last to know, then. Eddie knows it’s definitely hard for him to talk about this, the fact that he’s never going back to work with them, but being the last one to know this sounds like Buck didn’t trust him.

“Don’t even think about it, Eds” Buck grumbles, as if reading into his head. “It’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s because it’s easy to say it with them, because basically I don’t sleep with them, and I don’t love them the way I love you. I only had to tell Bobby, basically, this thing rained on the others and… I had to tell you in the most painless way possible, maybe when I was out of the hospital so it would be easier, that’s all” he adds with a small shrug. “That’s because you have to digest this news as much as I do, maybe even more…”.

Eddie purses his lips tight, but he can understand: maybe to find the right words he took a while, maybe he had other ideas, maybe to understand how to tell him he had written a speech and Eddie instead decided to get angry with him, all tense as he is. “How long have you known?” he asks then.

“More or less since I managed to have a minimum of language abilities. I did some intensive treatment, so many times I was more tired than normal but… I couldn’t tell you, not while I was in the hospital. You lost the light in your eyes seeing me there, you were always tired and… tense” he stops and curls your lips as if trying to find the right words. “I didn’t want to make it any harder. I wanted to at least… help, okay? Support you”.

“Buck you were sick, you didn’t have to worry about that, you could have told me, I should have been the one to help… to support you…” he retorts. “I could talk to the doctors, Hen, Maddie…”.

“And let Hen try to convince you of the goodness of this surgery? An operation that, although widely performed, is still invasive, is still a needle that touches the heart and wouldn’t allow me to go back to work anyway?” he mumbles. “Talking about this would have made you even more stressed. No, thank you very much”.

“Surgery?” Eddie repeats.

“I prefer a non-invasive treatment, usually you can have a normal life with pharmacological treatment, without needles in the heart and things like that… If it’s needed, I will undergo a surgery, but for now the least invasive therapy is the perfect therapy… A little orange juice with the meds and go.” Buck babbles. It’s a lot of words all together, so this may have been a stressful thing for him, choosing between the two treatments, and having this diagnosis hovering over him. “And this is an unquestionable decision: I don’t want to spend any more time in the hospital, not in the near future, I will have the nightmares of those lunches for the rest of my life and I don’t want to put you in a position to do those nights again, and that face, so soon… If you’re gonna have tears in your eyes, it’d better be an orgasm, and not because I’m dying or something health-related, got it?”.

Eddie rotates his eyes, but decides to postpone: Buck is attentive to his health, he calculates the risks even when he doesn’t look like it and he does his shit on the field, but he is careful and is a good judge, even when his judgment is clouded by adrenaline. And the fact that he’s still more concerned with Eddie’s well-being makes something swell up in Eddie’s chest. “Do you think you’ll accept… The human resources proposal? You would be a… a great fire investigator” he finally says swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Do you really believe that? The alternative would be without a job, and that would mean burdening on your finances or worse… ask my father for help, no thank you” Buck groans. “I don’t want to weigh on you, I will need a good health insurance… or I could reassess my father’s offer… I mean,” he starts to say, and he takes the medical record from Eddie’s hand. “I guess it’s a lot to metabolize… The fact that I’m not in a decent shape yet, and maybe never will, let’s just say it’s a big deal, huh?” he adds, and his voice trembles. “Man, I wanted to be cool here, but…”.

“Evan, don’t say bullshits like that ever again, okay?” Eddie grumbles, watching him bewildered, and for a moment frowns his eyebrows in a severe grimace before stretching his forehead and sighing for a long moment. “Sometimes I can’t even fathom how stupid you can be”.

And Buck groans, and he’s about to argue but Eddie moves his hand to put his index finger on his lips.

“First, I don’t think I can resist being so far away, and secondly, you’re focusing on the wrong thing here, as usual: we’ll be fine, take as long as you need to get better. Maddie rented your apartment, and this could cover some expenses until you start working again, besides, you’re definitely gonna be a total hottie in the department investigator uniform,” and he moves, then, while he talks softly to put a kiss on his temple, and he hears him sighing. “And in addition to the look, not gonna lie that’s a plus, you’re gonna do great because you’re smart and good, and it’s certainly not just the physique that you joined the fire department… but for your problem-solving skills. A bit of a daredevil for sure but…” he stops and smirks. “Everything is going to be alright”.

And Buck sighs again, like melting in Eddie’s arm.

“Plus, pericarditis can go away on his own,” he adds, moving again to look at Buck’s face, a slight disbelieving look tingling in his eyes. “What? I’m a field medic, do you remember that?”.

“Oh, I know you are and, you are very good at that, so much that you got a medal” Buck says, a fond stupid smile on his face. “Talk medic to me, babe”.

Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “What I mean is, sometimes it takes months to recover from it, but full recovery is likely with rest and ongoing care, that can help reduce your risk of having it again and… I’m here for all the aftercare and surely a desk job could help you… and could help me: you won’t make me die of heartbreak at the tender age of forty”.

Buck laughs, against him. “Idiot, you’re still far from forty”.

“That’s because I’m forward-thinking,” Eddie quips and sits better in bed, manhandling Buck so that he can rest against his chest. “I’ll have to find someone who has my back”.

“Someone who possible watches your back but doesn’t look at your wonderful ass in the process, maybe,” adds Buck rubbing his cheek against his shoulder.

Eddie chuckles, the weight on his heart, always pressing and oppressive, seems a little lighter now. “I knew you had ulterior motives from the very beginning”.

“You started it, anyway… You said I could have your back, I just followed orders, as usual with great diligence and going a little further” Buck replies playful, but his mouth is kneaded with sleepiness and exhaustion. “Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a long day”.

“You too, you went to bed early in the hospital…” he says and a strange sense of horror mounts again in his throat, the awareness that it is over, reassures him and frightens him at the same time: because from what he read, on that folder, with all the commitment, with all the medicines and treatments, even with all the goodwill, Buck will never get back to his old self.

“I didn’t move out of bed at the hospital, it’s very different,” Buck replies, tightening the grip more on Eddie. “The big bed is better, so you don’t break your sorry back and I don’t find myself having to explain to too curious nurses if what they see emerging from under the blanket is or is not my, you know…” he suggests with a wry smile. “It was clearly my happiness to see you every time. What can I say? It’s physiology and you’re so very hot”.

Eddie rolls his eyes with a noisy sigh and blows a kiss in his hair, there is no more smell of medicines and disinfectants on him, the sick smell of the hospital, but the most reassuring and enveloping smell of patchouli, the smell of home. He hols onto him for a second more, that has every intention of becoming a minute and then moves to disentangle from Buck’s hug reluctantly, but he really needs a moment to himself. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, ‘cause I smell like smoke, as you kindly pointed out”.

“You could sleep here even covered in mud as far if you ask me” Buck complains. “As I said, finally I won’t have to explain to the nurses… oh wait, there are your parents here!” he adds with the tips of his ears red. “Damn, I had not calculated… It would be difficult to explain to your father or worse to your mother…”.

Eddie throws the pillow in his face. “Sleep that’s better, because you rant when you’re tired. I don’t want there to be a sentence, an idea or an eventuality where you talk about erections or sex to my parents, I don’t want these terrible images in my mind. I’m going to wash off my day and I’ll be right back,” he adds and slips into the bathroom.

And before he closes the door, he hears him growling in mid-voice. “I thought you liked it when I was rambling! I love you, by the way,”.

“Me too,” he says and closes the door behind him.

He rushes into the shower, the station shower is a godsend, but it isn’t enough to make the smell of ash disappear from his nose. The hot water is not enough to wash off that discomfort he’s been carrying around with him for days, maybe months, and now they’ve collapsed on him all at once, with that fire and the awareness that he can no longer work with Buck, everything changed completely.

But when he goes back to his room, his room that until that morning was empty and bare and now, instead, lived, Buck’s clothes crumpled on the bag, the book open on the ground, the curly and ruffled hair that stick from under the sheet, he’s all curled up with the eyes covered by the fabric, he feels better.

Everything changed, every single thing changed, but somehow they’ll manage to be okay. They will be.

When he settles down and moves the sheet to take some from Buck, he hears him moaning and sees him raise his head, opening an arm, as if to invite him, and Eddie does nothing but turn off the light and crouch against him.

It can’t go wrong if one has the other.

.

The nightmare is around the corner anyway, and Eddie wasn’t ready for that. He feels the heat of the day just spent burning on his face, the smoke that stings his nose, his fingers tremble. The nightmare turns in that ambulance, this time, his blood-covered hands as he performs the CPR, the high-pitched sound of the heart monitor. And then it’s dark, it’s so dark and  wet, there’s the noise of the water and the smell of mud, that has a particular smell and he’s practically immersed in it now, his hands burning, despite the gloves the friction with the rope, the recoil of the rope that tears his breath away again.

It’s smoke and ashes, flames of dust and wind, it’s mud and water, and lack of oxygen.

“Eddie” Buck’s voice is like a distant echo, murmuring on his skin like the distant rustling of the wind. “Eddie, it’s okay, it’s okay, just open your eyes”.

And he wants to wake up but waking up means being in an empty bed, alone, in a room that has the smell of dust, and everything is dark.

But then there’s that little kiss in his hair, just over the edge of his forehead. “Eddie, it’s all right, you’re home, Chris is asleep and there are your parents who luckily set the alarm later or else you’ll find them up and around the house in a few minutes… and then there’s me, in all my glorious beauty”.

Eddie snorts a hoarse sound and blinks one eyelid and then the other.

“Here you are, what do you say at this ungodly hour? Good morning. I should recommend the melatonin chamomile that Ines, the night nurse, suggested me, it seems to be a godsend…” Buck gently mumbles. “You know what? We both take it, maybe not when we have a social event or something to do at night, because it seems it can knock a horse out”.

Eddie braids his fingers in the side of Buck’s shirt, and snorts.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” he stammers. “The ones you had at the hospital weren’t so bad… Maybe being uncomfortable helps your sleep, we should talk about it with a good chiropractor…”.

“I didn’t have nightmares in the hospital,” Eddie says.

“Oh, yes. So much so that I thought it was the bed… that’s why I always insisted that you go to sleep at home…” he explains. “I thought you were too uncomfortable, and it was your back that complained… but if it happens at home, in your bed…” he hints.

Eddie swallows and leans better against him, snorting slowly. “I don’t remember the nightmares in the hospital, I was convinced…”.

“Has it been going on for a long time?” he asks and then sighs. “Of course, it has been going on for a long time, what the hell do I ask? How long? We slept together before, before my… accident… you… what does Frank say? Well, does Frank know about your nightmares?” He rephrases, because Buck knows him, and he knows how hard it is to talk about his feelings, about what happens to him, he knows how hard it is for him not to have control over these things. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me about Frank and therapy, I won’t tell you about my therapy, but… Maybe you could talk about your nightmares, with me or Frank or whoever you want… just to… you know? Pull the cork out of your bottles”.

Eddie blinks, obviously he knows everything. Of course. It’s clear: Buck knows him well, so he immediately realized that something was wrong with the first nightmare that he let escape from his control, in the hospital. Damn it.

“You can’t control your dreams, Eddie.” he says slowly, lips against ear. “I mean you could, if you wanted to… You’re supposed to be practicing lucid dreams, but… it takes time and effort and what we live… I mean, who does your job lives, is complex, so it’s normal that it sticks on you…”.

“You talk like a therapist”, he comments slowly, the words that get stuck on his tongue. It’s not the time to make this kind of talk, they should both sleep; so, when it’s morning, morning for real, birds chirping or whatever, they’ll spend some quality time together. Even when Buck was in the hospital, Eddie was never a great entertainer: arriving after an exhausting shift, or the morning before going to work cut off their time together.

“Trust me, I’ve had enough therapy to write five or six books” Buck chuckles and tightens his grip more. “I can help by keeping you like this”.

Eddie huffs a soft sigh of contentment. “I ask nothing else”.

“And I can listen to you, remember. And guess what? Now I can also answer you!” adds the playful tone.

“Coma jokes, really?” Eddie groans, clicking his tongue on his palate.

Buck chuckles, the chest vibrates and almost seems to cradle Eddie in his embrace. “Defence mechanism, irony. The best of all”.

“You’re terrible” adds with some satisfaction in the voice, fondness, softness. Whatever.

“And think that I got better:” replies Buck, the voice that vibrates lightly in the silence of a still distant dawn.  “First my defence mechanism was denial… I was spinning like a ghost in my ex’s apartment… then you came along and everything changed. I’ve got better because of you, let me help you,” he adds, shifting closer and pressing his hand on the nape of his neck.

And it takes a moment for Eddie to let go completely. The hermetic door, behind which are bottled all the things that can’t control, seems to be on the verge of collapse. He’s breathing through his teeth, his jaw locked.

And it’s surreal, it feels like they are somewhere between nowhere and everywhere, as if that room, the bedroom that only yesterday was empty and off, is on another plane of the existence, where there’s no pain, or tragedy, or fear. It feels like they are floating in the sea, moving and still at the same time.

“All I want is to flip a switch” Eddie murmurs then. “Before something breaks and can’t be fixed”.

“I won’t say that everything can be fixed, Eds, because there are things that can’t be fixed. But people? Yes. People can, no one is wasted, or rotten, or broken beyond repair. It takes effort, love and care… and you know that. It needs time, but we will manage. Don’t bottle things up, because they are going to break at some point and they’ll flood your pretty little head,” he adds, kissing the top of said head.

“But…” he starts to say, but then stops for a moment, to gather his thoughts. “I can’t control this, and I don’t like this… you know, you were…”.

“Okay stop right there. I won’t say that’s in the past, because, I literally was, and I know we’ll have to deal with the consequences of that thing for well long, okay? I have a medical condition to deal with… But now I’m home, Eddie, I mean… that matters, right?” Buck adds softly. “And I’m not gonna leave until you get tired of me, and that’s something you can’t control either”.

Eddie purses his lips. “That’s…”

“Stupid? Yes.” Buck says, anticipating his words. “Like it’s stupid your need to be in control. You don’t need to control everything because if you are this tense, all looking around and trying to watch out, you’ll miss the chance of being happy, the best things happen without a signal boost, an alert, or a fucking bell. You can’t always be in control. No one benefits of full control, Eddie: not you, not me, nor Chris. It’s only going to hurt you, and you know what’s also going to hurt? Your pretty little head if you don’t catch enough sleep before your shift, and you’ll be cranky and Hen and Chim will be a pain in the ass if you are…” he says in the clear attempt to cut this thing short, for Eddie just so he can bottle things up again.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “But I can’t weigh on you. And you have a lot of things you have to deal with, now”.

“We will deal with your things and mine together: it’s what people in a serious, committed relationship do” Buck adds. “You can’t have all that only over your shoulders, because at some point…”.

“I’m already past that point. I’m already broken.” Eddie says, swallowing past the lump in his throat, a lump he didn’t even notice was there to begin with.

“No, you were hurting. Hurting and being broken are two different things, Eddie. Let the people around you help and take care of you,” he adds softly. “You are not alone, you’ll never be”.

Eddie sniffles. He didn’t even notice before, he had to sniffle. His eyes burn, but he doesn’t give in. He’s already almost lost his composure one too many times. He settles on a “It’s hard”.

“Oh, trust me, I know” Buck says. “You were raised like this, all bottling things up and never breaking down around people, but I know you. When this happens you become restless, irritable, tense… even if you try not to be you are…”.

Eddie groans. “That’s not true”.

“It’s true, but that’s your way of dealing with things. You aren’t broken, you are hurting, and you don’t know how to fix yourself, because you can’t fix yourself all alone, you’d let people help you with that. You are a survivor, Eddie, there’s no switch to flip…” Buck murmurs moving enough to regain his position as the big spoon.  “Now, let me cuddle you to sleep” he says.

And Eddie just leans in more, muffling a weird, satisfied moan against his pillow.

“Big day tomorrow” it’s all that comes from Buck after a while.

.

.

.

.

.

The next morning starts loudly.

There’s his father scolding Chris with his grandfather, not-at-all-reprimanding tone, because he opened the door and went into their bedroom to say hello. Eddie is still half asleep when he hears Buck giggling and moving in the bed until he comes out from under the covers and sits on the edge of the mattress.

Eddie stretches and blinks his eyes. Their routine, that of the first, that of the first accident, seems a bit different but practically has already returned, even if his parents have not yet returned to El Paso.

The soft, dim light is the same, it leaks from the curtains that are pulled softly, a thin slit between the two. Perhaps the breakfast won’t be the same for a while, judging by Buck’s diet, which he read quickly last night, which the doctors gave him as a food plan to get fully in strength, it will have to be longer, and they won’t be able to steal as many kisses, or caresses, because not only are his parents still around the house, but because Chris, as much as he tried to mask his malaise in this situation, now he needs to confirm that Buck is home and is here to stay (confirms that Eddie definitely needs too, to be honest).

Buck moves out of bed. “We’ll let your Dad sleep a little longer, hmm? Have you had breakfast yet, buddy?”.

“No! I wanted to wait for you!” chirps Chris and Eddie can’t stay in bed so long if his son was waiting for him.

“Helena made the pancakes, the eggs, the bacon… but you have that diet… she’ll definitely plan something else,” Ramon said.

“Oh, too bad! I’m still on a strict diet of jell-o and juice,” replies Buck very serious which makes Chris laugh breathless.

“He can eat eggs and toast and a yogurt and some orange juice,” Eddie mumbles poking his head out of the covers.

“Uh, buzzkill!” Buck comments sticking his togue out before going to the kitchen with Christopher and Ramon and Eddie hears them chatting animatedly about the planetarium and what Buck will do today.

Eddie gets up, out of bed and decides to take a little trip to the bathroom before reaching the kitchen. He looks less shabby than other mornings, after his nightmare and the abrupt night awakening, he slept much much better.

.

That thing that weighs on his chest, eyes and shoulders is certainly far from going away, but if they both have each other’s back, things will get better.

After breakfast, while Buck, for some reason, persists in helping to tidy up the kitchen, although he should be resting, like in bed, but he is a knucklehead, Eddie accompanies Chris to his room to do a final check on the things needed for his trip today.

“Did you get everything for your day with your abuelitos at the planetarium?” Eddie asks his son taking a look at the backpack.

“Sure! And we’re not going that far, I don’t need a sleeping bag!” Chris retorts shrugging and slipping the camera, a gift from Carla, in its case, before storing it carefully in the backpack. “Will Buck stay with us? But where are his things, Daddy?”.

“His things are in a storage that Maddie got when she rented Buck’s apartment,” Eddie grumbles. “We’ll go and get them, for now Buck can steal my things from the closet”.

“Even the things that were in the station? In his locker?” Chris asks.

“I don’t know, Chimney took them. He took care of Buck’s locker,” Eddie answers, frowning, “Why do you care?”.

Chris smiles, one of his dazzling smiles. “Because I made a drawing and I think it would look good on his nightstand”.

“Ah! So that’s what he went to look at in his locker when he was feeling a little low-key” Eddie mutters spacing out, and Chris giggles. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to have his things back, I’ll send a message to Chim and tell him to bring back at least the ones today since I’m taking Buck to the station to sign some papers…”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask him, maybe I’ll have Maddie bring them back when she drives me back here” Buck mutters leaning against the door frame. “Chris, are you ready? Take a lot of pictures, then I want a detailed report, alright?”.

“Yes, Bucky! I also have the recorder for that part about the sounds of the space! Who knows if I can use it” he babbles, putting on his jacket.

“If you ask nicely, I’m sure no one will be able to say no to you,” Buck answers by adjusting his jacket collar. “Have fun”.

“You too! Daddy be careful at work,” he then says, hugging Eddie as usual.

“Ah, no… I have a day off today; I’m just taking Buck to the station and then right back home” he babbles. “So, we are here when you come back and tell us all the good things you’ll see!”.

And Buck smiles adorably, looking at them, and Eddie can’t even define how happy and lucky he is right now.

When his parents and Chris drive away with their car promptly requisitioned from abuela, Eddie prepares for the day and watches Buck settle into this weird new everyday life in his home. Their home.

He’s sitting on his bed and going through his duffel bag with a couple of changes of clothes that Maddie must have brought to him in anticipation of his discharging.

Eddie could get used to this new normal. He might hope that that house, that room, their life, will be nice to them for the rest of their time, he could almost imagine himself all grey, watching the sunset with Buck in the backyard. He might even ignore the fact that they haven’t been together that long, that Buck has spent two-thirds of their new-born relationship in a coma, and that their lives, their job─his job is dangerous and so the years won’t be so nice to them but… He can’t ignore that feeling of warmth that swells in his chest and reddens his cheeks. Growing old has never seemed so sweet.

“Uhm” he hears Buck humming, which brings him out of his maybe too risky daydream.

Eddie cocks his head, moving near him.

“Can I steal you something a little warmer? For some strange reason Maddie decided to ignore my sweaters and just brought me some T-shirts!” he mumbles, showing him all the T-shirts in his duffel bag.

“Maybe he thought you’re used to colder winters than the Californian one.” Eddie replies a tiny smile dangling on the corner of his lips.

“All right, but I think it’s reckless to wear a half-sleeved t-shirt without even having a jacket to cover me with” he mutters.

“How did you get here yesterday? In a T-shirt?” asks Eddie.

“Your mother decided this morning to wash the sweater Karen gave me when I woke up, the white one, for no reason…” he murmurs softly, brows knitted in a frown.

“I’m sure the reason is called sanitizing, Buck,” Eddie chuckles. “Open the closet and choose whatever you want, never stopped you before”.

“Yes, but now we live together; and you complain a lot when I stretch your clothes things bigger” mutters and then looks, frustration cranking in his eyes.

Eddie moves closer to blow a raspberry on his cheek, to make him laugh: if it works on his son, it’ll work on Buck too. “You are going to be back in your usual shape in no time, but you are gorgeous anyway” he murmurs softly, against his face. “Don’t stress too much about it”.

Buck laughs softly heading to the wardrobe. “You are just trying to get into my pants”.

“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says, shrugging and trying to shot him the best subtle wink he could manage.

“You are terrible at this” groans Buck, starting to fish for that grey cardigan he likes so much.

“Am not” he quips, “And I know what you are doing over there, Buckley, you are trying to steal my grey sweater” he says. “You aren’t even trying to be that subtle”.

“It has buttons, it’s easier to put it on, I still have some hardships trying to put on something without buttons or zip-fasteners…” Buck says. “My left arm is still a bit… you know? Stiff”.

“I’m more than willing to help” Eddie says, all cocky wink and confident smile.

Buck looks at him with his wry smile, mincing his way up to Eddie. “You are so terrible at this…”

“Am I, now?” Eddie says moving closer, smacking his lips and helping him to get out of his pj’s shirt. “Is it painful to move?”.

“Something stings every now and then, but that’s normal, doc said. I still need PT.” he murmurs. “Which sucks because I had to re-learn again how to fucking walk and I still have a hard time putting a fucking fork in my mouth from time to time”.

“Evan,” he starts to say, lips primed and a serious paternalistic tone in his voice.

“No, I mean, it’s good… I’m getting better but… you aren’t gonna stay here every single time I need to move or… to dress and… I have a lot of t-shirts,” he murmurs.

“So, we are going to buy you a couple more shirts,” Eddie decides.

“I know what you’re doing here, mr. Diaz,” Buck says, in a mocking tone.

“I’m just saying you are way too hot in your shirts” Eddie shrugs. “Let me help you today. You’ll do everything by yourself tonight”.

“I sure hope not to,” Buck retorts, licking his lips.

Eddie clicks his tongue on his palate. “And I’m the terrible one at this” he groans, manhandling Buck to the bed. “Sit, so I can help with your pj’s top”.

Buck reluctantly executes the order, and Eddie moves his fingers to the hem of the fabric from his shoulders and in a fluid gesture takes off his shirt.

And Eddie moves to retrieve from the bag a plain, white t-shirt to put on. And when he goes back to Buck he has his head bent forward, his eyes shut, a hand over his chest where there’s surely that scar from that day.

“Hey” Eddie murmurs, taking his chin between his hands. “Look at me, mh?”.

Buck lifts his head up, a tiny lacklustre smile on his lips.

“I hear chicks dig in scars” Eddie says, smiling.

And Buck lets out a small humourless huff.

“Let me see it.” Eddie murmurs softly. “The sooner the better”.

Buck doesn’t move for a moment, like pondering what to do.

“I’m not in love with you because of your body,” Eddie starts, “I love you for your big stupid self-sacrificing golden heart, for your pretty little head, for the way you make me feel, the way you made me feel since the very beginning, the way you are ‘round Chris, how you make me smile and… okay even for your stupidly good ass and you know” he moves his hand in a self-explanatory gesture to his lower parts. “You are way more than what you look like. And that is just a mark on you, that means you are alive… you are a survivor, and those are just… signs of that. You won a battle, Evan”.

And Buck rolls his eyes skyward, not saying a thing, deciding to move his hand away.

And even if Eddie knows what he’s going to see, because he saw it open, and saw a lot of wound like that before and after healing, and a lot of them which didn’t heal, it still is a punch in the gut. No wonder Buck wanted to cover it, not for yourself but for Eddie, because he may remember how bad it was on the ambulance, right after he exited that fuming inferno. But now is somehow small, it’s like a narrow crooked pink thread, a few inches from his sternum, almost half a palm long, it healed well, and it may leave a glossy, whitened skin in a couple of years. The pinkish-hot steaming and bubbling blood a long-forgotten memory. Evan lifts his left arm enough to make Eddie see the other scar, the chest tube anchoring one: they used a different technique here, something quite new, introducing a two layered closure to avoid wound healing complication, like a hypertrophic or a keloid scar, and to achieve airtight closure. It’s a tiny one, two inches, scar that almost blend with the muscles and the curve of the ribs.

Eddie moves his finger ghosting over the tissue with the tiniest frown. “You scared me so much, but those are proofs that you are alive, and a survivor. Every imperfection makes us glorious. And as I said, chicks dig in scars…”.

“You are terrible at this” Buck murmurs a lopsided smile.

“Nah, you know I’m perfect and always right. I ain’t no chick but, I’m sure diggin’ in” Eddie says, moving to help him in his t-shirt. “Go wash your teeth so we better get going, you have to talk to Bobby and all…” he adds, throwing in his face that grey sweater. “It’s yours now”.

“Nu-uh! I like it better on you. And I want to steal it every now and then…” Buck murmurs, getting up and going to the bathroom.

Eddie huffs a small sigh, when alone, registering this new normalcy. He’d better keep going, and finish dressing up without indulging so much in his daydreaming.

.

.

.

Their drive to the station was unusually quiet, not weird-tense quiet, maybe content-quiet. Every now and then, Buck would move his hand on Eddie’s thigh, squeezing softly and smiling at him without saying a word. No weird fun facts, no cheesy words, just them and some awful Christmas song buzzing distantly in the speakers. Maybe Buck is a little tense, that’s what Eddie would rationally assume. ’Cause when he gets tense he does one out of two things: either he talks too much about the most absurd and random facts, or he just shut his mouth in a forced silence.

But this doesn’t sound forced, it’s just content, and maybe he’s almost-worrying too much. Because he isn’t worrying, nope, absolutely

When they reach the station, the station, he hears him groan softly.

He doesn’t ask anything just waits. Buck isn’t so good with dealing with his feelings, but he usually isn’t ashamed of talking about them, so he just waits.

“Fuck, I’m nervous like the very first day I came here” he murmurs. “I guess something never changes, even if a lot of things change…”.

Eddie moves to touch the nape of his neck. “It’s going to be alright”.

And Buck rolls his eyes, snorting.

“I’m not terrible at this, whatever you say” Eddie grumbles and moves to get off the truck. “Let’s go, so we can be home in no time”.

Buck steps out of the car sighing softly. “Go on alone, it’s gonna take me forever to climb all those steps”.

“Okay, wait for you up there.” Eddie says.

“You should say ‘No I’ll carry you, my dear’ or something along the line…” Buck complains.

“That’s because you always say I’m terrible at this” Eddie shrugs, before sprinting inside and leaving him practically there, he can still hear him complaining while he walks past the locker room.

The station is unreasonably quiet, like they are all out on a scene, but the trucks and the ambulance are still in there. And they parked between Chim’s car and Bobby’s, so they are surely there. And there’s also Hen’s white coat attached to her locker’s door.

Eddie decides not to think too much about it and go upstairs. A stupid grin curling his lips every time he stops on the steps to look at Buck who’s slowly climbing the stairs, who mutters something under his breath, his fingers clamping on the banister.

When he reaches the mezzanine, he is about to introduce Buck’s a bit too slow grand entrance when he sees them, their family. Bobby, Athena, May and Henry, Michael and his cute doctor ─ David or whichever his name is, Eddie isn’t so good with names─, Maddie and Chim (and presumably their daughter is somewhere, napping in her carrycot), Hen, Karen with Denny and Nia, Albert, his abuela, Pepa and his parents with Chris and Carla. There’s even Nate – the substitute – and some other colleagues from the other shift. All smiling and with stupid glittering hats on their head.

“Surprise” Buck murmurs behind him and the others echo him.

“I thought you didn’t want a party, you know with all the…” he starts to say, and he feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

“That’s not for me, not only at least. But for all of us,” Buck says.

“And the planetarium?” he asks looking over to his dad, and Christopher.

“It won’t go anywhere!” his father says.

“Hoping the San Andreas fault doesn’t act up” comments May softly.

“We are going in the noon” Chris quips moving to hug his Bucky. “You did good, those are a lot of steps”.

“They surely are, and your dad has been a big meanie ‘bout it” he says. “He just sprinted and didn’t even carry me, can you believe?”.

Chris frowns, thoughtful. “You are big, he isn’t strong enough to carry you over here”. And it’s almost an insult for both of them. No more time with Chim for him.

The kids, Eddie’s parents and Chim and Hen snort loudly. “That’s true, kid, tell ‘em”.

“My own kid!” Eddie groans, but he can feel the big smile tugging at his lips. Their family all together there. It almost feels like it’s normal, perfectly normal.

And it’s a quiet, almost lazy day, not like yesterday, they could eat their second breakfast in peace. He can see Buck talking animatedly with Bobby over his toast and his orange juice, the others have platters full of Bobby, Pepa and abuela’s goodies.

Eddie has never felt so happy, in that station. His family all around them. From time to time, he moves his gaze along the table, exchanging a glance with Buck every now and then surrounded by the kids, all smiles and stories and things he didn’t know happened during his sleep. And every single time he looks at Buck, he seems happier than before, his sister a couple of seats away from him because Athena wanted to seat with him and Chris on his other side, so he is quite far away from Eddie but still looking, always looking.

Chim and Hen, but also Carla and Pepa are roasting him, all questions and comments about their new living arrangements, every now and then Karen tries to save his ass, but his parents are there to do the same, in an unusually supportive way. It’s good, it’s something he didn’t want he needed, he wanted maybe, but now it’s real and perfect.

And he’d be lying if he said that when he saw Buck pick up his niece for the first time and start talking to her in that adorable, sweet, silly tone, his heart didn’t take that stupid, almost embarrassing leap in his stomach. The wide grin he has is something Eddie hadn’t even thought was possible a few hours back, last night, or thinking about a few months ago.

He’s lost so many things over the past few months, even Chris’ birthday, that went smoothly, wasn’t a happy moment in his clouded mind. Not to mention all the other parties that took place there, or at someone else’s house, he wasn’t enjoying himself like this in a long time.

The noise is pleasant, the station is back all alive and loud, full of family feels and happiness. It vibrates with something that now as the taste of happiness, of everyday, of normality. And Eddie has concluded that even Nate, the too much happy-go-lucky substitute, is not so terrible if you exchange to words with him.

.

At some point, after cleaning up the table, he sists near Buck still engulfed by May, Henry and Denny, Nia almost sleeping on his lap, and Chris talking about the next movie they are all going to watch with Buck, Maddie’s daughter back in her carrycot, sleeping her blissful, full-stomach sleep.

He waits for the kids to leave Buck be for a moment, and then shifts closer.

“My day off is your doing, right?” he murmurs softly, it isn’t an accusation, he is just stating a fact.

“Yep,” he pops. “I wanted this to be good, and you had to enjoy yourself a bit, with your parents and family, and all the crew it’s good the alarm hasn’t rang yet” Buck murmurs. “I wanted to celebrate life, and not my work slipping away. Work is not everything I have.” he adds softly, burrowing in his side, his head bent enough to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “I have a family, here. And that’s not gonna end if I stop working here. Something the old me didn’t know”.

“New you is a very wise you.” Eddie murmurs brushing his lips over the edge of his forehead. “And I love you so much I almost feel repetitive”.

“You are terrible at this for this reason. I don’t need to hear it. I know you do. And I do too. Your actions speak louder than words, remember? And the way you make me feel… that’s a lot to take…” Buck snorts softly.

“Can we do it now, Bucky?” he hears Chris ask, next to Ramon all intent on beating Chim, Albert and Michael’s asses at the pinball.

“Oh, yeah sooner the better! Eddie you should really see your dad how good is at that, he is a master pinball champion!” Buck murmurs moving from the couch to where Maddie, Karen, Athena and abuela are talking. Eddie’s mom seems to have the best time of her life laughing hard, they are clearly talking about some weird stupid thing either Buck or Eddie himself did. “Hey now, don’t make me look bad in front of my soon to be suegra”.

And that catches Eddie’s attention, while he moves closer to the pinball, more than his dad’s score blinking in red on the machine. But due to the noise around him now, he can’t hear Buck bickering with Athena and Maddie about it. He may have misheard.

But then his dad decides to let the ball, which just sprinted through the ramp, roll over the side of the flip and fall, not redirecting it back into the playfield. And everyone stays silent for a second.

His dad looks over at abuela and his mom, and Eddie’s gaze moves there too, just to find Buck moving closer his hands fidgeting around something that looks like a little box. And it takes Eddie off guard, and something in the back of his head clicks.

“Better doing it now, before the bell rings” Buck murmurs under his breath.

“Go for it!” Hen yells.

Eddie looks around. All those people around them, it can’t possibly be the case, can it? “Are you trying to woo me?”.

“Oh, shut up Diaz I already wooed you a long time ago” Buck says. “This is a bit different”.

“No hot-air balloon for you Eddie!” Chim peeps and Maddie rolls her eyes.

“It’s so unfortunate” Athena retorts.

And Bobby nods. “But at least we are going to avoid rescuing your sorry asses from a hot-air balloon, or a moving helicopter, or whatever was Buck’s idea for this”.

“Better stay on solid ground” Karen says her thumbs up, so that Nia and Denny do the same.

And someone of those present, consent with a certain clamour, mimicking the thumb up gesture with a tiny nod.

Buck rolls his eyes, his ears pinkish, almost red, and looks over at all the people there, a stupid, fond smirk on his face. “Can I just, please ask him to marry me or are we going to do this for much longer? I have to know because I have to kneel at some point”.

A tiny, stupid sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “No need to kneel, you already asked me”.

“That’s what I said!” Hen quips, and Karen just elbows her.

Buck groans.

“Go for it Bucky!” Chris chirps out loud.

“Go for it” Eddie murmurs, quieter, with a voice so soft he couldn’t even believe himself. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he takes one of Buck’s so that they can be both anchored one to the other.

Buck squeezes his hand and scoffs a soft, mute thank you, before starting again. “No grand romantic gestures, no wooing in extraordinary ways, no extremely sickening cheesy speeches,” he says, his voice soft like his breath on his skin when they sleep together, and gentle like his hands and eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I just wanted this to be ordinary. With the people we care about around us. Because that’s what we’ll have if you make me the happiest idiot in the world and marry me: each other and our family. I already asked Chris and your dad, so we have a green light, you know so…”.

And Eddie rolls his eyes. “You are such a sap and somehow I am the terrible one at this”.

All around them, their friends, their family laugh joyfully. But Eddie doesn’t even notice it somehow. They are there, but they are somewhere else, like that night before, everywhere and nowhere, at the same time.

“Bad habits rub off” Buck smirks, opening the velvety box revealing a simple metal, maybe silver, band.

“We have a lot of bad habits to share” Eddie nods, softly moving a step forward and leaning closer, to kiss Buck’s lips right then and there, in front of everyone.

“Yikes” he can hear from Henry, Chris and Denny.

Buck snorts and rolls his eyes unceremoniously. “It’s that your consent?”.

And Eddie nods, simply. Yet is loud and clear, and soft, and stupid. And everyone else are starting to clap, but the noise is just a drumming in his ears, while he looks over to Buck who high-fives Chris.

“Put the ring on it, Buckley!” yells Carla.

And Buck, always industrious, executes the order in no time, taking Eddie’s hand and slipping the ring on the finger, first the wrong one, his hand clammy and trembling, and then moving to the right finger.

Eddie looks over at his dad and mom, who smile at him, happy and then everyone sticks closer to engulf them in hugs and shake their congratulations.

It’s stupid, and soft, nothing big but perfect.

He looks over at Buck, who beams a smile back at him. “No eloping” he says under his breath.

“No eloping for now” Buck corrects him. “We aren’t in a rom com, yet”.

.

.

.

A/N:

It took me like 6/7 months but here we are! Sorry for the wait! at some point I was about to throw in the towel this chapter didn't really want to exit from my head.

But here we are so thank you very much for your patience and for supporting me with all the love you gave to this work.

If you reached the end of this mammoth chapter you are now my favourite person! I hope you liked this whole 27 pages/16k chapter-mess(???). I really can't English right now, so if you find something that makes your skin crawl, misspellings or mistakes of every sorts please let me know.

So now I'm bidding my farewell to this work I hope you enjoyed the trip so far and you'll follow the developments of the rest of this.

Yes, because this now has become a series! (somehow!!)It took me like 6/7 months but here we are! Stay tuned for more (i could take a month or two, or could take forever we don’t even know)

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

Eddie can’t give a name to what he feels, seeing his son fall asleep near Buck who, although his movements are all uncoordinated and not very fluid, holds Christopher protectively against himself, even while he sleeps. He can’t say how far his happiness goes, now that when he reaches out to caress his hair, Evan moves to find his contact better, his touch, a half smile curving his lips. He has always done this, since they first slept together, he has always looked for him. Even when Eddie goes to bed later, even when Evan is sound asleep, he moves a part of himself, whichever limb it is, to get closer to Eddie’s body. And it’s a bit like coming home, more or less, it’s like going back to their little bubble.

When Maddie comes back in, Eddie already knows that she has spoken to others, and that he will have to warn his family too. Abuela and Pepa, and then his parents, his sisters.

His parents have been very present from the first moment, from that night, from the fire, and have even come to see him a couple of times in these past months, to fill his pantry and prepare dinner for a while, for him and Christopher. His father has always been unhappy with that situation, with the fact that Eddie allowed Christopher to come and visit in hospital with Buck, with Buck who, probably, as far as they knew, would never wake up. They quarrelled, as they usually do, ended up talking about life choices, moral judgments, and Eddie, fuming with anger, decided to postpone. He had other priorities, back then. But now, now Evan is awake, and Christopher is happy, and they can stop worrying.

.

They don’t talk, he and Maddie, it’s not the time to talk. But Eddie knows that expression that Maddie is wearing, he also had it on for a long time, in quite other circumstances. It’s the expression of those who have stopped fighting, of those who have knowingly decided to throw in the towel. It’s guilt, it’s pain, it’s remorse, and Eddie doesn’t really have time for it now. Because going to unpack what she feels, right now, will deprive them of everything they have just found. They will find the way and the time to face this speech, but certainly the day isn’t today.

And then they sit there watching him sleep. A sleep in which he moves, to get closer to Christopher, or to seek more warmth of Eddie’s hand, that continues to gently caress his hair. And every now and then he mumbles, something incomprehensible since he has no voice, and his lips curl in his sleep. He is alive, and although the climb will be steep, the road long, they will be fine in some way. All of them.

When Maddie finally decides to leave, she brings Christopher with her, between tiny tired protests, but in the end Chris hugged Evan in a small soft embrace, and he caressed his face with both of his tiny hands, and made him smile. Evan greeted Maddie slowly, then, with a strange gesture of his hand, before turning his gaze on Eddie.

And Eddie looks at him, always looks at him, as he always did even when they were at work and not together yet, even when the idea of ​​waking up with him in the morning was only a hidden dream. And he looks at him, and he understands it immediately, as soon as he moves the tips of his fingers on his lips that they hurt, because he wrinkles his nose and frowns.

No need to talk, Eddie reaches out to the jug they brought, he doesn’t even know when, but there are still small ice cubes and with the help of the spoon he takes one in his hand and passes it to his lips, slowly. And Buck snorts, and looks at him, with wide eyes, and does nothing to withdraw from that tiny relief. Eddie retrieves the famous spoon and fills it with water and brings it to his mouth, helping himself to pull his head up and he drinks slowly from that spoon. He doesn’t even hear what voice he incites him to, what voice he speaks to, but he sees Evan smile then, with that little smile of his as his eyes close again.

 .

Thus, the first days of his awakening have been indecipherable.

Eddie has something unspeakable in his heart. He isn’t happy, he’s not happy every time Evan opens his eyes and looks at him, and curls his lips slowly in these goofy and weak smiles. He is not happy when he gets lost in his eyes, and he hardly breathes when he seems to speak to him with those tired looks, with his muffled sounds. He is not happy, it’s something that goes far beyond, something that easily exceeds his imagination, something that he would never have expected to live. His stomach is always contracted, in a tight grip every time he opens his eyes, his throat remains closed for a second, and his head empties completely, all together. And suddenly there is nothing else around them, there is nothing else that matters, there are only those eyes and that weak crooked smile.

And although it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter the magnitude of what could or could not remain on Evan, how serious any accessory symptoms are, the results of these months and months of slow agony, because now they have time to heal together, they have time and a future, but there is still something. There is Evan who is weak, Evan who doesn’t speak, who gets tired easily, who always seems a little confused when he opens his eyes.

But even if he is weak and tired, he fights, he just needs to ask him to wake up and Evan opens his eyes.

And in the first few days the best he can do is open his eyes and move his limbs slowly, only if stimulated, only if pushed to do so. The arm, the right, moves better than the left and with that manages to hold Eddie that minute longer, to wrinkle his shirt to pull him closer, or at least to convince him to get closer.

For Eddie it’s enough, though. There is time for Evan to get back on his feet, and chatter as before, they have time. He is back, he got back to him, and nothing else has more value.

 .

Everything is silent, in those first days, the improvements are tiny, yet somehow still huge. Evan manages to stay awake a little more, manages to stay with his back raised in a sort of sitting position, his neck supports the head without difficulty, but his movements are still not that fluid and he can’t speak. He seems gradually more alert, however, he seems to listen and understand and looks interested in what is said to him.

The pharyngeal reflex is his latest goal, he can now slowly drink from a drinking straw, and can chew on some ice. They’ll have to wait for solid foods especially because he made it clear in his own way that he doesn’t want help but cannot bring a spoon or fork to his mouth. He manages to hold them in his hand, in this grasp even strong enough, but directing the movement up to the face, up to his mouth, is extremely complex. It is a matter of coordination, of fine and gross motor skills that work together. But they tried to make him eat, something not so solid, but the effects were catastrophic. Eddie was there while the nurses tried to get him to eat. And he ate, took these two or three teaspoons of broth or mashed potatoes, but it took so little for him to throw up everything.

So the doctors decided to give him more time, to continue with parenteral nutrition, and not to risk further. And they have the time. They have all the time, Evan has time now and it’s not worth rushing.

They have time.

.

Eddie has never left for more than a few minutes, in those first very delicate days. There is something that makes him smile like a child, and he smiles and sometimes he doesn’t realize, or he doesn’t want to realize, that he has tears burning in his eyes, because it is atrocious to see him like this, defenceless, weak, so different from what he was. But he is alive, and there is nothing that could make Eddie happier. He is happy, he is desperate, and a strange sensation of completeness, of full power, has gradually settled in his heart. He is alive, Evan, and even Eddie now feels alive, he has hope, this hope which is no longer miserable, but strong and feeds on this possibility now more than ever palpable of happiness, of future. Time, they have time. Buck no longer has a muscle, but he fought like a lion, against death, against any fear that could have paralyzed him. He still fights.

And when Eddie speaks to him, slowly, quietly, every time he opens his eyes and looks at him and smiles at him with his weak yet blinding smile, which is so unmistakably his, he has this unsustainable emotion that burns in his heart. It is happiness mixed with despair, it is victory and pain, it is satisfaction that gradually takes the place of fear, of loss.

Every time Evan opens his eyes, all the people in the room disappear, probably even the walls disappear when Evan looks at him, and Eddie never goes away, never more than a few minutes because Evan is there waiting for him and lights up every time he sees him. And if only Eddie has looked at him like this once, only once, he can be satisfied.

.

Ever since the first day, they began to give him a rather intensive rehabilitation program. Starting with a very rigorous physical therapy. The process is always the same: they start from the hands and then move to the arms and shoulders and go down to the legs. His legs hurt a lot, he usually grits his teeth, he doesn’t complain, but when they get to his bad leg, small whimpering sounds come out of his throat.

Eddie would go there every time to drive away that therapist, who perhaps exaggerates, who perhaps should stop. But when she starts with core exercises, and moves Evan knees from one side to the other, and helps him to rotate his hips so that his knees push first to the right and then to the left, Evan makes a lot of resistance, and the therapist smiles and she incites him, and immediately moves on to manipulate him again, and again. She blocks his pelvis, and uses one hand to help him extend his leg as far as possible to one side, she tells him to breathe, and when he exhales, she takes his leg back in its place.

His flexibility has improved real fast. From the bridging exercises of the legs, which fortifies the muscles of the legs, even if he lets these small suffocated moans escape, he got to even harder, more difficult exercises.

The primary reflexes of his hands have remained intact, and therefore although not very fluid, his fine motor skills improve rapidly. His practitioners let him tighten this anti-stress ball with his hands, make him move it from one hand to the other, make him extend his arms, the right arm moves easily, but the left arm hurts and has a lot of troubles even in the gross movements. But he holds forks and spoons in his hand, he also manages to hold pens between his fingers, and he gets better and better with each passing day. He began to make marks on the papers and Christopher teases him and laughs, because clearly now he is the better writer out of them.

Eddie is sometimes forced to look away, though. Especially when, after the first days of therapy in bed, they tried to get him up and he, he was not ready. And Evan growls, soundless, every time, and seems to swear, even if the therapist and nurses try to reassure him. It takes time, it takes time.

Time they now have, time to heal.

And when they leave him, to let him start his speech therapy session, he is breathless on the bed. His eyes flushed with fatigue and anger, and pain, but then Eddie enters his field of vision and he wrinkles his nose and stretches a smile.

And Eddie does everything to not seem troubled, to stay in control, to give him support, even in silence because he is not good with words, not enough, at least. But when he finds the words, he tells him that he is good, so good, and makes him smile more. And all he doesn’t say is a silent thanks to him and his strength, to his unwavering desire to fight.

The days immediately following Buck’s awakening are surreal. Because Eddie has a constant need to touch him, to look at him and feeling his eyes on him.

Eddie may say he knows that hospital like his pockets now, and yet it’s all so absurd now, now that he no longer feels empty when he sees Evan on the bed, now that everything seems to have acquired a colour that Eddie can’t understand or name, there is a new warmth, there is a new light, now that Buck raises his arms towards him to invite him into an embrace with the whole body even if his grip is so weak and yet so his.

Now that doctors have planned and approved his neurorehabilitation treatment, Buck has started receiving visits from the rest of their family. Their colleagues waited patiently after Maddie gave them news, and they booked their visits first. And Eddie was there, more to make sure Evan didn’t get too tired, than anything else, and reasonably he could have better spent that time sleeping, since they are all so attentive to Evan’s health. Their visits are short, Bobby has been there four minutes flat, while Hen has stayed longer. Chim is part of the family, so he is as present as possible. Even abuela was there shortly, just enough to refresh Evan on the latest developments of her favourite soap, making him giggle voiceless and making him do a kaleidoscope of surprised expressions and sounds with his lips. After the visits he usually falls asleep, he manages to stay awake until everyone leaves and one between Eddie or Maddie sits near his bed.

Because Evan, who was a volcano of energies, gets tired very, very quickly, the continuous coming and going of the various doctors including trainees and experts, cardiologists, pulmonologists and cardiothoracic surgeons, otolaryngologists and speech therapists, neurosurgeons and neurologists, physiotherapists and orthopaedists, and all appropriate therapies, they tire him so much but he never stops working, he never gives up. No matter how much he groans with his half aphonia, he never stops gritting his teeth and tries, tries, tries. No matter how much it hurts, he fights, he never stops.

.

.

.

After the first delicate stages, the first surreal days, Eddie had to go back to work.

He, who never left Evan, was practically kicked out of the room by Maddie. She too, after the first few days, decided to swallow the guilt and commit herself to her brother and decided to take the situation in hand: sending Eddie home to sleep, to spend some time with his son, before leaving him at school and going back to work for the first time. Rationally Maddie is right, Evan will need him later, when he will get out of the hospital and he can’t use all his time off he has now in these early stages: his support will be crucial soon after, as soon as he’s discharged and returns home. And perhaps it wasn’t really Maddie who chased him away, but Evan, who was starting to look at him all worried, about his continued presence in the hospital, as if he wanted to make sure that Eddie returned to normal.

And Eddie was reluctant at first. But after the first few days, and after the first small improvements, there have now been great achievements. Buck now sits alone, and also manages to move (maybe even too much, to be honest), not that he is particularly fast or agile, with the walker, he makes some small, tiny steps and then has to stop, but he is more coordinated.

So, Eddie also had to take a step, a small step towards normalcy.

Hence, there has been a first night at his house since Evan woke up. And he slept, not so much because anyway, even after six and a half months, he is still not used to sleeping alone, and the adrenaline of knowing that he is alive and awake is still drumming under his skin, but it was a peaceful sleep, no nightmare, no overwhelming sense of absence upon awakening.

The first thing he did, even before he got out of bed was to ask Maddie how he spent the night, and she replied with an emoji and a photo of him with his hair all tangled and his not particularly awake, but definitely grumpy face.

And it has become their new routine. Every time Maddie doesn’t have a night shift, or an early one in the morning, she stays with her brother in the hospital and Eddie goes home. And in the morning he prepares breakfast for Christopher, while he will eat with his colleagues in the station, and on the way to school they sing Disney’s songs and talk about what Christopher will do when he goes to visit him, what book he will read to him and what they are going to do at school.

It’s also going back to normal that slightly longer hug, in front of the school, with his son protesting that he’ll get late and Eddie holding him stronger with the excuse of bringing the hug to Buck too.

They have already organized their next trip to the science museum, for when Evan will be back home, and Christopher has prepared an in-depth summary of that strange and melancholic soap that abuela always watches.

They are trivial things, even the breakfast with the team, and the strange jokes of the substitute, but it’s perfect. He’s coming home.

When he arrives at the station now, he doesn’t feel the urge to run away from the big din that welcomes him, but he goes to meet it. In the locker room he hurries and climbs the stairs to the loft three by three. The breakfasts or lunches with his colleagues are always very weird, because there is no Buck there, but it is easier, now, now that he knows that when he’ll arrive at the hospital he will just have to ask him to wake up and he will look at him.

And they will no longer be words in the wind.

It is slowly returning to a, still a little weird, still a little different, everyday life. The habits he had before, when Buck spent the night with him, or when they were at work together are still not in place, but they will also get to that point.

.

.

.

One thing he did not expect, are the constant calls from his parents, he hoped they would decrease over time and instead now that Buck is awake and he is back to work, they have a daily cadence that Eddie begins to find indigestible.

His parents have always been quite invasive in his parenting and non-parenting life, especially on his work choices and his love life.

Ramon didn’t like his choices, or better what in fact wasn’t even a choice, falling in love with someone is never a choice, but deciding to commit body and soul to be with that person is. And when he introduced Buck as his partner and no longer as his colleague, Ramon had been unfriendly, to put it mildly.

But then he saw it, Buck with Christopher, the way they both looked at each other as if one had hung the moon and the other the stars and had softened a little (maybe his mother helped too, with all her elbowing and kicking under the table).

But gradually, with the accident, and the coma, and the hospital, and this terrible, terrible agony that was making him lose sleep, and Eddie who spent little time at home and took Christopher to the hospital, Ramon had returned to be his usual nosy self and to make judgments, some very difficult to swallow and digest.

In the first days after Evan’s awakening, however, Ramon had said he was extremely happy for his son, for them, especially for Christopher, because it was a miracle, in some ways it was a miracle.

But then, all those huge improvements for his father, however, are not enough and he decreed that Eddie can no longer divide his life between the station and the hospital, “Now the boy is awake,” he said on the phone, “Now the boy he is awake, and you have to think about yourself and your son, remember that you have no obligations towards him”.

And Eddie was about to burst, when he heard that, he felt the blood boil in his veins, but he didn’t say a thing, because he could hear his mother’s voice scolding his father. He decided to postpone, having very different priorities.

Evan and Christopher are his priority.

After that, suddenly the calls became sparse. And Eddie hoped, ardently, that his parents had stopped snooping.

.

Instead, it is when he has a free morning and he is waiting in the hospital cafeteria for Buck to finish his speech therapy, to spend some time with him, that his phone rings with a message and he chokes on his coffee. “Your mom and I are coming on Friday, next week, to help”.

And he would like to appeal, he would like to refuse and he is about to call his sisters to ask for an intercession, but his parents’ decisions are unquestionable, even though he absolutely doesn’t feel the need to see them, to let them intrude in his life.

Here, in this new normal, in this new routine that they have built, everyone is trying to help out.

There are abuela and Pepa, who continue to go to the hospital regularly: as before, with the only big difference that now, they don’t have to hope that he will wake up, because he is awake, maybe a little annoyed and aching from physiotherapy, but he’s awake.

Then there are the colleagues and their families, and this is perhaps the reason why Eddie did not feel the need to have the help of his.

There’s Chim who is among those who spend more time in the hospital, sometimes giving Maddie a bit time off. He has never gone into the merits of the situation, about the decisions she wanted to make and the way she is practically avoiding her brother, even when she sits there, even if she is always there. He just spends his time telling Buck, now that he is awake and that he is sure he understands, the plots of his favourite films, because now he can’t escape and it is time to finally have a bit of knowledge and not to be so illiterate about pop culture.

Or often when the shift ends, it is Hen who precedes Eddie in the little room, tells him about Nia and Denny, and reads some medical articles she is studying, or repeats what she has just learnt for her next exam. Not to mention Karen telling him about the new space discoveries that this or that satellite made while he slept, that he probably heard these things while he was in a coma, but it is right that he remains updated now with more elements.

Only Bobby has been there few, few times. Unlike Athena who visits him practically on a day basis, as soon as she leaves work or before going, and promises him lunches, barbecues, promises him trips and camping as soon as he gets back on his feet, as soon as he gets out of there. Or Michael who tells him about May and college, and shows him photos of his new projects, that now that the cancer is a memory he is full of life, and with a fine hot doctor with him. But Bobby, Bobby is acting as if he is avoiding Buck. And maybe Eddie has to take this situation in hand, a bit.

But apart from that, in their newfound normalcy, if normalcy can be called spending half the day in the hospital to keep him company, and having to leave him there before returning home or going to work, there is no room for his parents.

He decides again to postpone, and to reach Evan and ask him for one of his hugs, which even if they are all a little goofy and weak now, are his.

And when Eddie finally enters the room, slumped shoulders and lips pursed like he’d been chewing a lemon, Evan spreads his arms wide.

“Eddie!” he says, his voice croaky and throaty, thick with tiredness.

And Eddie could swear his brain is short-circuiting now. It feels like he spent his whole life searching desperately for that voice. There’s surely a word for describing what he feels now, this far-beyond-happiness-thing that overwhelms his heart, but Eddie’s lost all his words, he’s lost all his abilities to function for a second, and somehow he hoped that this would stop at some point, but here he is. His legs trembling and his stomach contracted and his breath scratching the back of his throat.

“Hey? Eddie?” Buck repeats grinning, his voice getting feeble and raw. “You good?”.

“You talked! You finally talked! You took your sweet time doing it!” he says, or maybe yells?

He definitely yells, because Buck is wheezing with laughs, and he’s out of breath when Eddie finally reaches the bed in two long-legged strides, his father’s message long forgotten.

Buck opens his arms, lips curled in a soft grin and Eddie bends down and kisses him. And it’s such a soft fleeting kiss that turns to be so hungry and desperate, that Eddie’s whole body curves into Buck’s. And Eddie doesn’t even notice how much his lips are trembling now, with that smile curving them.

Buck breaks the kiss first, taking a shaky breath and looking at him with soft eyes. “You good?” he says, staying so close that he his murmuring in Eddie’s mouth.

He groans, shaking his head. “Kiss me better” he says, in a hoarse whisper.

“Needy,” Evan says, moving his hands down on the small of Eddie’s back, his fingertips pressing under his shirt, drawing gentle circles against the bare skin.

And Eddie just starts to melt in his arms, forgetting everything else.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 It is a string of high fevers, and sudden flat calm. In the following week, Eddie has almost no time to think about his parents. Doctors say it’s fatigue, that Buck gets very tired with all the therapies, and it doesn’t depend on him or on them, it’s simply an endogenous reaction.

There are no traces of infections, it is only a sudden fever, that comes at the end of the day and disappears by the next morning. And even if they have moved him to the ward now, and he is no longer in SICU, they keep him under strict scrutiny.

And Eddie who is already worried and with the advent of that fateful Friday, which perhaps arrives too quickly for his taste, he’s become increasingly tense.

This is not the right time to have his parents around the house, especially not to have his father who will snoop around and have his say, even on a simple fever. Eddie can swear he can already hear his voice, echoing in his ears.

Knowing that they are ready to go poking into his life, sentimental, professional, parental, in every sense of life, but above all in every sense his, irritates him a lot. But he will try not to take this bad mood to work or even in his house, he will leave it in his bedroom, because Chris is looking forward to hugging his grandparents, and wants to let himself be infected by his good mood.

Today he will certainly not be able to pick them up, or rather, he could have done so, but he has made sure not to ask for a shift change or a free day in time. So he has a deal with Pepa that concerns a dinner for her and tìo, at that fancy restaurant they like. But tìa will keep them away for at least today, then he is free the next morning so he’ll take them to visit Evan in the hospital and he’ll then leave Chris in their care, he planned a theme park on Saturday, so they’ll stay away even more. He doesn’t know yet how long they will stay, but even three days are too many, for his taste.

But he can’t complain too much, it’s their way of loving him, as Buck says. He only hopes that today is a good day, at least.

 The shift is easy enough, when already at the first call, even before breakfast, they save an elderly man who was stuck in the house during a gas leak just in time. Where just in time isn’t a figure of speech, but quite literally: as soon as they manage to pull the old man away, at the right distance, the house bursts, like a firework, like a powder keg. Certainly, that poor gramps lost all the memories of a life, the only thing safe is an photo album. But at least he is alive, and smiling, and he also saved his denture!

This is one of those days when Buck’s impossible good mood would pump them further with energy. But it’s not a bad day, everything seems to go smoothly.

At midmorning, when he hurries up to the kitchen to eat something, he can’t hold back a laugh when he sees Chim who is eating jam directly from the jar, while Cap is busy at the stove.

Hen is noisily playing the pinball machine with three or four guys from the second team cheering her on.

This is his place, this is what goes through his head, in an instant. He feels in the right place, even though Buck isn’t there yet. But they are also rapidly reaching that point, the improvements are increasingly evident, and the doctors are already talking about discharge.

“Hey!” mutters Chim, mouth kneaded with jam, as he finishes licking the spoon and then his fingers. “Maddie said she’ll call you as soon as the tour is over: the fever has gone down...”.

Eddie nods and bends his head to the side, trying to paint a stern expression on his face and ignore the concern for the tiredness that afflicts Buck and increasingly withdraws his discharge from the hospital. “Christopher eats jam more politely than you...”.

“Umpf! It’s finished! Bobby gave me permission!” he grumbles with a shrug, his face looks all sticky.

Hen approaches victoriously, babbling something about her victory, her record or whatever it is, and bangs a loud pat on his shoulder and chuckles. “So Eddie, ready for your folks to arrive?”.

“Yeah, come on...” Chim comments, while vigorously soaping his hands at the sink, now and rinsing his face and cheeks. “All considered, you have a good relationship with yours”.

“Let’s say it’s a great long-distance relationship, based on a non-aggression pact... you know they snoop and my father always has something to say. But… Chris is happy, he at least” he mutters and approaches Bobby, the two of them still have to talk, clear things up and maybe this is the right time, today is a good day, despite the imminent arrival of his parents. “Do you need any help?” he then says, gesturing at the sizzling pan, just out of courtesy, not out of actual desire to do so. Last time he helped, Chim was ready with the first aid kit and Hen was holding the fire extinguisher. They ordered Chinese, afterwards.

“I really would say no, thank you for asking” says Hen. "We want to eat, do not chew the unburnt parts of a toast. Luckily there are Carla and your grandmother who take care of making Christopher’s meals...”.

“I only burnt the toast once! Once!” he replies. “I just needed to understand how the toaster worked!”.

“Once to many” she singsongs, shaking her head. “I suggest banning you from cooking”.

“Hey!” he whines with an overdramatic sigh.

“I really have to remind you that time Bobby was called urgently by the commander and left you in charge in the kitchen for, what was that? Five minutes? Just because we were still returning from the hospital...” Chim mutters, retrieving the dishes from the cupboard and starting to arrange the table.

“There was smoke everywhere...” adds Hen nodding vigorously. “I swear dispatch would have given us a support unit if we didn’t act as fast…”.

“Oh, come on...” he mutters, pretending to be offended.

Bobby looks at him, a mischievious and paternal grin. “Yes Eddie, you’re banned from all the cooking, it’s a matter of our well-being”.

“Hey!!” he pouts playfully.

“You and I cant talk later,” adds Bobby.

Breakfast goes smoothly and fast, they are starting to clear the table when the alarm rings and they hurry down the stairs.

They don’t have time to talk, not now, but they will. The two of them have to clear up. And he needs to plan how to act next, when Buck leaves the hospital and Eddie will need all the help he can get. Help he already knows he won’t even have to ask openly. They are their family, even if for a long time he pretended to forget about it.

 .

It’s a scene like many others, they have seen dozens like this one, but it always makes them laugh.

The lover who, in order to escape, from the cheated husband gets stuck on the ledge of the building. Usually these are calls that arrive at night, or at first light in the morning, and usually the lovers are always half naked and attract attention. At first, the passer-by who called 911 must have thought it was a suicide attempt, but then he must have understood: one who covers his nakedness with his hands is certainly not there to kill himself, especially not there on the second floor of a building. He only risks getting hopelessly hurt, but not killed.

The lucky one with the shortest straw is Chim, who climbs the stairs to get to the second floor of this fine apartment building, in a fancy neighbourhood. The guy, the lover, is thinking more about avoiding being kicked by the cheated husband and covering his balls rather than being so careful where to put his feet, but Chim is quick on the ladder and grabs him before he finds himself ass in the jump cushion, that is still inflating.

“I will never tire of this kind of bailouts,” Hen comments grinning behind him. “People manage to be really stupid when the blood doesn’t flow to the brain, but to their second brain down there... umpf, men”.

Eddie chuckles. “At least I have something fun to tell Buck when I go to visit him today”.

“How is he doing?” asks Bobby.

“Better,” he says, he always says he’s getting better. But it’s increasingly true, now there are all those improvements. Now that he speaks, now that he can take a few steps with the walker, he is better, really better. He also seems more serene, even if he is all tired and battered.

And Bobby and Hen look at him as if they want to know more.

“You have seen him too, he’s getting better. He’s getting much better.” Eddie starts again. "He gets better every day: he sleeps better at night, especially now that they have removed the catheter and have moved him to the new ward, he is always a little cranky in the morning, and these high fevers exhaust him a lot... but...” he adds with a shrug. “He’s better, PT still hurts a lot, there are movements he just can’t stand, but he keeps trying and trying again, you know, don’t you?” he says, a soft fond smile curling his lips.

And they nod.

“He has started to eat something, things that are not too solid, his movements improve but... you know, he insists on eating alone, without help, so he spills all his food on his hospital gown” Eddie explains, and smiles even more. “Maybe is a tactic… Chris says, because the hospital gown looks stupid”.

Hen snickers. “Now that he speaks, it will be a constant lament”.

“Can you blame him?” Bobby replies, a brow furrowed. “With all the therapies and tests...”.

Eddie shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t complain. He is stubborn, he doesn’t give up, but he doesn’t complain... even when it hurts, he doesn’t complain.” he remarks, a fond tone in his voice.

“He’s a fighter,” Bobby replies and then looks at him, forehead puckered. “Look, Eddie...”.

“I think I overdid it the other day,” he mutters, scratching behind his neck, slamming his eyes shut for a second before sighing. And maybe this isn’t the right time, talking about it while they are on a scene and there is one with balls and ass in the wind who is accompanied down from a building on their ladder truck. “I was…”.

“I can understand you, Eddie” replies the captain hastily. “And you’re right, I... the way I behaved, as a captain, as a man… that time I had to choose and... not intervening to save him is and will be one of my biggest regrets but...” he continues, looking down.

Eddie’s eyes narrow again, he takes a deep breath and when he throws the air out, he stretches a half smile. “I know. How I know he doesn’t give up. The problem is... as far as I know, rationally, we couldn’t do much else, I’m sure we weren’t enough, that we didn’t do enough...” he mumbles.

Bobby looks down, without saying a word.

“The fact that we didn’t go down there and help him was a confirmation for Evan: he really, seriously believes that he’s not worth it, risking our life for him.” Eddie mumbles. “And everything that has happened before, everything he is doing now, even hurrying his recovery, is because he doesn’t want to lose us, because we are his family... because he doesn’t want to be left behind” he adds with a sigh.

“Eddie I...” Bobby begins to say.

“I want to tell you that I behaved badly, with you, I told you about things that pressed on me but that you didn’t deserve... So please go and see him more often, he’d love to see you. But, don’t promise him food, because he is on a strict diet right now with all the medicines and all, building up his strength.” he adds.

“But you’re right I didn’t do enough...” comments Bobby, head down.

“We didn’t do enough. Evan did it all by himself, he’s a fighter, you’re right. And the thing that frightened me, that still frightens me, is that he could always get tired... But he doesn’t give up, he got out of that hell with his own legs and he will also leave the hospital in no time...” he murmurs. “Let’s give him time to get up and he will kick our ass. Mine because I’m pissed at you, and yours because you’re blaming yourself”.

“Surely when he gets better and comes back with us, he’ll kick your butts.” Hen nods, smiling, before reaching Chim and helping the naked lover in the ambulance.

“Athena told me they started talking about discharging him, Buck does nothing but say he wants to go home...” Bobby mutters, his voice heavy and thick with some strange emotion that Eddie doesn’t want to pay too much attention to.

“He was so pissed off when Maddie told him she rented his apartment…” Eddie chuckles. “I guess I have an excuse to make my place his home,”.

Bobby frowns. “It isn’t already?”.

And Eddie hums in consent. “It is, I just have to make it official… do we have to sign more HR papers?”.

Bobby shakes his head. “We’ll have to organize ourselves with your shifts and your holidays, maybe for the first few days I could…” but he can’t finish the sentence, he and Eddie look at each other for a moment and before the cheated husband, on the war foot, launches himself on the way, towards the ambulance, Eddie leaps into action, intercepting and holding him down.

When the ambulance leaves, Eddie and Bobby climb back with others on the truck. No collateral damage, all is quiet.

“We will talk about it when we have a certain date for it, better not to rush things, he is already impatient enough for all of us.” Eddie says going back on the topic.

 .

All things considered, it’s a sleepy day. And that’s just what he needed today, nothing too adrenaline-pumping, otherwise he will be tired tonight when he goes to stay with Evan.

It’s almost in the middle of the shift, when two phone calls arrive. His parents have landed and are in Pepa’s car on the way to his house, and then Maddie gave him a brief update, but this time she doesn’t pass the phone to Buck, who is tired and is having a bad day. They started with more intensive treatments, now that he is making these huge progresses and he gets tired, he gets tired a lot and he’s always sore afterwards.

Knowing Evan as he does, so impatient, indefatigable, so tenacious, he knows that now that the finish line is getting closer, now that his discharge, or as he calls it his freedom, seems really within reach, he will do everything to hurry things up. Even if his legs hurt, even if he’s tired, he wants to get out of there as much as Eddie wants to take him home (and maybe to bed, without having to do much even just to sleep and a little pampering). But they have time, now, time that seemed to have expired until a few weeks ago. And the road is long, they know it. But everything has its time, everything has its own pace.

Not to think about it, about Evan who’s having a bad day, he decides to catch up on further articles, something that can help him with Buck and his recovery. He has signed up for all the sites that allowed you to download various exercises that they will be able to do at home, without stressing themselves, something that Evan could do autonomously or with Eddie’s help.

Hen looks out, chirping over his head. “Hey, any news from Maddie? I saw that you made that sulky grimace of yours twice... if you had talked to Buck you would walk a palm from the ground... so, it was Maddie or they were your folks… and I’d risk all my money on Maddie though... usually, after you talk to your father you go down in the gym, beating the shit out of the heavy bag”.

Eddie looks at her cut. "Are you sure that your medical career is the right way for you? You could steal Athena’s job...”.

She chuckles. “Oh, I was a fan of Murder She Wrote as a child... I always guessed the culprit...”.

“Christopher too! And... maybe he should spend less time with abuela, thinking about it...” he replies, buffeting a half laugh.

"So, what did Maddie say?” she asks again.

“Today it’s a bad day” he murmurs with his head down, scrolling his finger on the phone screen.

And she collapses near him, on the couch, squaring an ankle over one knee. “He is such a bad patient sometimes”.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bad day, today: two PT sessions, one this morning and one in the afternoon. He walked, took two whole steps alone... however, tonight he will be tired and angry, because he says it’s not enough... and with tiredness, he gets those high fevers...” he sighs and shakes his head for a moment, without taking his eyes off the phone, he must keep busy. “Besides, he has already done neurological tests too... the usual, fucking long battery, and those exercises with the speech therapist... he was tired, he was sleeping, when Maddie called”.

Hen mutters something under her breath. “He doesn’t complain, though”.

“No, but... you know him,” Eddie shrugs. “He wants to do things in a hurry, like all at once. He becomes restless... even when he was doing rehabilitation for his leg...” he says inhaling a deep breath and blowing out slowly. He’s trying to find the right words, it’s hard, seeing him like that, struggling even only to take a shaking and careful step forward.

“Well, it’s long... but he always works hard,” Hen replies, optimism in her voice.

“Every single day he improves, he gets better, but he is likely to be more and more tired and these high fevers weaken him... and he fell, the other day, when they tried to let him take a few steps... and he didn’t want help to get up and...” he shakes his head. It was painful. He doesn’t say it though.

“But he walked today, didn’t he?” she mumbles. “Two steps are enough, they are a start”.

Eddie looks up at her. “I can’t help him. It’s terrible”.

“It’s out of your control, Eddie...” Hen speaks softly. “But there is one thing that could help you. And help him…” she adds, taking the phone from his hands and typing something hastily before returning it to him.

Eddie looks at the screen. On a white and yellow page, in thin gold letters, there is a title that makes his eyebrow curl. “Nordic cuddle therapy?”.

“Okay, listen to me...” she begins to say moving her hand, as if to stop whatever he is thinking. “Touch has a power to change us, it offers support and comfort… and cuddles? Basically, they increase confidence and happiness, reduce stress and anxiety... the benefits are also physical, just biological...” she explains briefly with a toothy smile.

“Okay?” he yammers, confused, tilting his head on one side while listening. “I don’t think I understand, honestly...” he admits, after a few seconds.

Hen smiles benevolently at him. “This site explains everything quite clearly, but... long story short? Cuddling is the way to give more support, Eddie. Think about the psychological and biological effects, how a hug makes you feel, how his hug makes you feel... how you feel when he grips your hand...”.

And Eddie instantly relaxes at the mere idea. It is something he misses like crazy, to be able to reach out and find even the lower part of Evan’s back under his fingers, for a single moment. It is a kind of lucky charm, a kind of calming, anchoring mechanism.

“Exactly,” Hen says, the smile that widens more on her lips a knowing look glimmering in her eyes. “It’s just this... Hugging reduces stress. It will decrease blood pressure, heart rate, cortisol levels... it improves immune system and... as you will read, hugging, or cuddling has soothing and comforting effects for people suffering life-changing illnesses. I’m not saying that Buck is ill, but of course what happened to him, changed his life. But changed yours too, didn’t it?” she adds, and her voice is so kind and cheerful, even when she says these things.

And Eddie looks at the screen for a moment and feels something burn in his eyes. If he reads in bulk, while Hen explains it to him, he can see all the benefits. This therapy reduces fear, pain, increases happiness, improves the immune system... and that’s how he feels when he embraces his son and Buck, is this it? Is it really that simple? He looks up at her incredulously.

“Look, you can talk to his doctor, that doctor is very good...” Hen nods smiling. “Hugging, touching, cuddling produces a lot of hormones... oxytocin helps us feel calmer... serotonin increases happiness and is known as a natural painkiller, therefore it helps to lighten the pain... hugs, cuddles... help balance the nervous system... you find everything there, on that site... but there are many other scientific evidences” she adds, winking at him. “Besides, it’s a good excuse to snuggle, if you needed one”.

And Eddie looks at her and would like to say something but “Thanks” is the best he can manage right now.

“With Nia it works, you know? Such young children, especially those who have been entrusted to social services, need something, a form of caring communication. They are suffering from touch deprivation…” she adds gently. “I’m sure it will certainly help our Buckaroo a little, but maybe a little you too, you big curmudgeon... for sure you’ve already hugged him, but... let’s say you have an excuse to extend the contact, now” she remarks.

Eddie nods slowly. “Thank you thank you. Especially for the excuse of cuddling...” he repeats with a smile that curls his lips. “If you also send me the articles, I will read them and talk about them with your doctor...”.

She retrieves the phone to send him all the attachments and manages to complete the operation just in time, before the alarm sounds.

“You’re going to be a great doctor, Hen,” Eddie tells her, jumping up and hurrying down the stairs.

“And I will always be a very good Mrs. Fletcher,” she replies sneering. “I am a woman of many wonders”.

“Curmudgeon, I will remember that” he says, moving faster to get on the truck, with all his gear.

She jumps on the ambulance. “It’s spelling-bee time at Denny’s school”.

Bobby is ready next to the truck. “Come on, fire in a Korean restaurant.” he grumbles before taking his place.

“Uh, korean barbecue!” chirps Chim. “My favorite!”.

 .

With his stomach still rumbling, even after eating a big lunch, even if more than people they seemed like a pack of hungry wolves, Eddie goes to his truck. There were three other emergencies after a small fire in the restaurant kitchen, a small failure in the electrical system, nothing special, fortunately no injuries, and Chim took the number of the takeaway, because according to him the perfume, if you ignore it the smell of burnt plastic and blackened eyebrows was really inviting.

He proceeded to contact the doctor, between one call and another, he forwarded the articles and spoke to him about Hen’s idea, that could help Evan a bit, because he is always sore and pouting, and the caresses on the face or the grip on his hands are certainly not enough for him to feel better. The doctor laughed, a genuine laugh, “Sure,” he said. “I don’t see why not, even if he will only have a better mood, it will still be a victory”.

And so now he also has the doctor’s authorization, and he can take off his shoes, and climb on the bed and hold him a little. And maybe make him forget his bad day.

Before setting off for the hospital, he called Christopher and explained to him how they can make Buck feel better, and that he will certainly need his super hugs, and Chris said he was very ready, so much so that he has already organized himself with the grandparents to visit him tomorrow, he has already chosen the next book to read to him and all the rest, tonight he will watch the soap with abuela, so he can also give him a summary.

When he arrives at the hospital it’s late afternoon, and he hurries up the stairs. He knows now that if he enters from the east entrance, and takes the stairs instead of the elevator, he is in Buck’s room in five minutes flat, brief chat with the nurses included.

From the large window of his new room, enters this golden light. The sunset tinges the wall with a warm colour, and he, who is clearly particularly tired, is all curled up on his side, to turn his back to the window, in that adorable and somewhat goofy almost foetal position, with his arm covering his face. His head almost completely hidden by the blanket. The patchwork comforter that Athena had brought him, shortly after he went into a coma, to make him feel more at home, in a less aseptic environment, is all wrinkled at the bottom of the bed, it is still very hot, although it’s almost December.

“Evan?” he calls him softly, and approaches his bed. “Evan?” he repeats and moves the sheet without too many ceremonies. “Evan I’m here for your new therapy!” he says to him.

“No,” he croaks, his voice hoarse, tired. “Enough. Enough! No more.” he repeats, groaning, stiffening in his position for a second and curling into a ball up next, clamping his fingers over the top of his head.

And Eddie feels a strange warmth growing in his heart and he laughs, and maybe he feels the need to sit down. So he flings himself on the bed, on Buck, kissing the top of his head moving his arms from his face. “Buck? Evan?” he calls again, quietly, hovering over him, his voice sounds impossibly soft in his ears. “I’m sure you’ll going to like this new therapy”.

“Ooof, no! Please” he whines, frustration crinkling in his eyes.

"It’s called cuddle therapy, or hugging therapy,” Eddie says. “And I’m your practitioner, now”.

Evan inhales a deep breath and blows it out slowly. He cocks his head, a cunning smile on his lips, blinking his red eyes owlishly. “You are what now?”.

“We are going to cuddle. And you are going to get a lot of smooches, because... you walked today,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t even want to notice how his voice sounds warm and fond while he leans in for a kiss on the bridge of his nose. “You really never cease to amaze me, Evan”.

He shrugs a bit, rubbing a hand over his stubble and his eyes. “It’s nothing” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and raw.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to belittle this thin g, okay? Not on my watch” Eddie grumbles. “You are amazing! You took your sweet time, but this is a milestone! So, you get more cuddles”.

“I’m not a kid, Eds,” he whines, a tiny smile curling the edge of his lips. “But, yeah I ’ll get all the cuddles, no complaining”.

“Oh, you are so needy” he says moving away for a moment just to take off his shoes and move on the top of the bed. “Move a bit, so the both of us can fit on this mattress”.

“Can we?” he asks softly.

“Chris can do it, I can do it” he declares.

Buck chuckles bit. “Chris is a kid, you are a full grown-ass man, Eddie”.

“I got doc’s permission,” he says. “Now, move”.

Evan moves slowly, but makes room for Eddie enough for the two of them to fit on the mattress. “Cuddle therapy” he repeats softly, his voice cracking at the end.

“Yeah, we are going to cuddle... and it’s therapy. This is the kind of science you like, the cheesy one…” Eddie says, crawling up in the bed and sighing when he finally reaches out to take Evan to his chest, resting his head on the top of his. His skin is warm and sweaty.

Evan groans, tightening his grip on Eddie’s waist. “Ooof, don’t make fun of my interests...”.

And he could swear his heart is melting right now, beating slowly in his ribcage while he sucks in a shaky breath. “I find you and your interests so adorable. You big sentimental nerd. Hen made me read a lot of articles, it’s pure science, and your doc gave us permission...”.

“It’s neuroscience” Buck states out softly, nuzzling his face in Eddie’s chest. “It’s because our skin contains millions of pressure centres that work in network...”.

Eddie laughs softly in his hair. “Now you know this one too?”.

“You said so yourself, it’s the cheesy science that I like...” Buck murmurs, his voice is like a whisper, tired and throaty. “The Pacinian corpuscles are connected to the brain to send pressure senses. It’s cool”.

“Plus, we can cuddle” Eddie adds, moving one of his hands on Evan’s shoulders.

“Cheesy science. The perfect science” he nods, snuggling closer. “Your parents?”.

“Arrived, earlier today.” Eddie groans in exasperation. “Did you really have to break our tiny bubble so fast? Why can’t we ignore the fact that they are here?”.

“They love you” Buck purrs, moving his head enough to look into his eyes.

Eddie sighs. “I know that... but they are always so meddlesome”.

“Alright, I see what’s happening here. It’s you who needs cuddles then, I’m just your six-two-tall cuddle pillow.” he says, his blue eyes glimmering with a playful mischief.

“Hey, now...” he starts with a tiny smirk. “You start forming complex sentences just in time to make fun of me, you are terrible. And I was here to make you feel better!”.

“You being here, is enough for me” Buck says and snuggles closer, humming in contentment when Eddie shifts a bit to wrap an arm around his ribs. “But with cuddles it’s better”.

It’s that, just like that. That’s enough for Eddie to feel whole again, and it sucks right away to feel whole, while Evan still isn’t in his best shape. But all that tension that stiffened his body, now seems to fade away, now that Evan touches him like he’s made of porcelain, stroking his arm, leaning into him.

“Don’t be rude with your parents,” Buck utters softly. “They are worried about you and Chris. About us. But eventually they’ll come to like me”.

“They already like you. They came here while you were... asleep” Eddie grimaces at the word, and he hurries to leave a quick peck on the edge of Evan’s warm forehead.

And Buck hums, moving closer, his hand in the small of Eddie’s back, his fingers caressing the base of his spine. “Because they love you. They wanted to give you the support you needed... help you out”.

“They got nosy even then...” Eddie adds, eyerolling noisily. “I’ll try, for Chris... and you. I’ll try”.

“They are your parents, you have to try” Buck declares, in a nobbling, yet tired, tone.

Eddie grunts again, nodding. “Let’s not talk about my parents while we cuddle. It’s weirding me out” he stretches his legs and entangles one between Buck’s, his heart galloping and echoing in the other’s chest while he nuzzles his nose in the soft curls on the top of his head. He smells like an alcoholic shampoo and detergent, and even if that isn’t his usual scent, it’s good, it’s still good.

“They helped me getting all cleaned today, maybe doc told ‘em you were coming here to snuggle in bed with me…” Buck murmurs, laying his head in the crook of Eddie’s arm and looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“The kind nurses helped you?” asks Eddie, moving his hand up and down Buck’s backbone, counting his vertebrae with his fingertips, his heartbeat drumming calmly in his ribcage.

Buck hums softly, but doesn’t say anything else. And it’s a matter of moments, that his breathing becomes deep and steady, and he is out like a light.

And Eddie lays there, in his arms, or with in him in his arms, hugs work like that, it doesn’t matter where they start, what really matters are the entangled limbs and the soft breathing. He moves his fingers absentmindedly on his skin, feeling him relax even more under his hands.

Buck moves just a bit closer, at some point, nuzzling his face in Eddie’s chest.

The sunset is dying the sky and the room with the last soft dark orange hues. It’s perfect, and calm, and maybe Eddie hasn’t seen such a beautiful sunset in a long time.

And he must admit that this cuddle therapy thing is perfect, the perfect excuse, or the therapy he actually needed, and maybe Buck is right, he needed this as much as him. He is so relaxed, this is what he always needed, what he always missed while he was asleep and not responding. And somehow is like coming home, all over again, sinking in his arms like this. He can’t explain how overwhelming, crushing, irresistible this feeling is. He doesn’t know enough words, or maybe he just forgot how to use them. He is just simply happy, and something even more, far beyond happiness. He is, finally, damn happy.

And, lulled by his soft breath, in their quiet bubble, Eddie is about to doze off. But now he hears people, he hears an echo of known voices, and it’s weird because that Unit is very silent at this moment, even if it’s visiting hours.

“What are you doing Edmundo?” nags a voice. His father’s voice, orotund and stentorian.

And Eddie, who isn’t very asleep, but not that awake either, jolts in the bed and stares with cow eyes at his parents, who are now in the room without even asking for permission.

He hears Buck whine at his sudden movement, groaning something under his breath.

“What are you doing here? We had planned a visit tomorrow.” Eddie growls, eyes burning with annoyance while he moves away from Evan’s warmth reluctantly.

Buck shifts on the bed, and squints before knitting his brows in a frown. But then smiles, his shit-eating grin. “Oh hello” he says, his voice thick with sleep scratches the back of his throat.

Eddie stiffens and can’t really function right now. His mind gone completely blank.

“We thought we could pay a visit, see how Evan was doing... you always say that this is the perfect moment to visit him...” his mother says and moves to hug him and kiss his cheeks before walking around the bed to reach out and cup Evan’s face in her hands. “You got so thin, you need to eat more”.

His father doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs him, and looks at the bed, at Evan on the bed who’s now besieged by Helena and all her attentions.

And Eddie eyerolls, a sharp sigh scratching the back of his throat when he kneels to put on his shoes. He sits on the bed and searches for Buck’s hand. He needs his touch now more than ever. He isn’t prepared to talk to his father, not now. He just wanted a cute cuddly night with his boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.

Buck smiles even more. “It’s good to see you too,”.

“You are finally awake,” his mom says. “And you look good, thin, but good. Good thing we are here, so we can bring you a lot of good food, and help out...”.

Eddie is about to say something, something about Buck’s diet, about the fact that he doesn’t need any help, that he and Christopher are well enough on their own with Evan, but his dad comes near him.

“We need to talk,” Ramon declares under his breath.

“I don’t think it’s the time, Ramon.” his mother says. “Why don’t we chat a bit with Evan first and then you and Eddie can go talk in the cafeteria, before we have to go to that good restaurant you choose?” she adds looking at Evan with a soft smile “I’m sure you and I can talk a bit, Christopher told us a lot of marvellous things you told him, so...”.

“You can go talk to your dad, Eds.” Buck murmurs, his eyes soft and caring but rimmed with tiredness, his lips curled in a tiny smile.

Eddie huffs loudly and stands, walking out with his dad. And he really wants to go to the cafeteria, maybe grab a coffee and talk to him, far from Evan’s ears. It can become ugly, when they fight. And he really didn’t need it today. It was perfect, just a couple of minutes ago. Fuck.

Ramon doesn’t wait, as much as he is known for his obstinacy, his fucking stubbornness, he isn’t known to be the kind of man to have a quiet word with someone and starts to talk when the door is closed but they are still in the corridor outside the room. “You should have come get us at the airport. Spend time with your kid”.

“Dad” he scowls.

“No, now I talk, Edmundo:” his father opens his mouth harshly, “You need to re-think your priorities, Eddie. And I say it now because I don’t want to fight in front of Christopher”.

“But you are perfectly fine with fighting in a hospital corridor, in front of Buck, we could have waited a couple of minutes, sat in the cafeteria and talked. You are doing this on purpose: he can still hear you” Eddie says narrowing his eyes. “You want him to hear, he isn’t deaf”.

“At least he isn’t deaf” Ramon retorts and moves his head away, facing the other end of the corridor. “Let me remind you that you are under no obligation to him. You aren’t married, and you need to think about Christopher, you need to think about your kid and yourself”.

“I’m thinking about Chris, I’m thinking about our happiness. We are happy with Buck” Eddie says matter-of-factly. “He is the best thing ever happened to us”.

“Eddie you don’t even know how much this thing that happened to him will impair his life and yours eventually” he starts to say but then he falls silent for a moment, and that gives Eddie the space to talk.

“It doesn’t matter” Eddie states out, shrugging. “I love him. Chris loves him. Maybe even more than I do... and Buck, Evan... he loves us, and I can’t even stress enough how much he does, maybe even more than I can fathom”.

“Eddie, you don’t need someone else who has special needs” his dad says with a stern look, gritting his teeth, gesturing widely with both his hands, pointing his finger at the door, at Evan. “You need to think about Christopher’s wellbeing first. You are already neglecting him to stay with that guy, and working twelve to twenty-four hours shifts… you brought him to the hospital! Hospitals aren’t places for kids!”.

Maybe Eddie can hear his breath scratching up his throat, rage mounting in his mouth. He slams his eyes shut, furious. He can’t do this again, he explained this in the first place, that Chris asked to go there, asked to be with Buck. “Enough” he breathes out, moving his hands in a hard act. “Enough”.

“Edmundo, I’m just saying you need to sort your priorities. You can’t give him what he needs if you can’t provide for your kid’s needs first. Neither of you will ever be happy. And I’m not even going to start about hospital bills. Six months in a hospital? You know how many digits that bill will have? At least seven...” his dad says again, his tone penetrating, severe, but he still tries to mind where he is, and not to yell out loud.

Some nurses, the kind nurses that look after Evan and treat all of them gently, eyeroll at them while passing slowly, muttering something under their breath. That’s not the right place for arguments.

Eddie moves his eyes to glance through the glass door, Evan looking at him. And he knows he heard something, maybe not everything, but he knows that look in his eyes, and Eddie doesn’t want to name it. “You say over and over that I have no obligation to him, but I have. I have obligations to my heart and to Chris’s happiness. Evan makes us happy. And I’m willing to do my best for him and Christopher”.

“Eddie...” his dad says, his voice now softer, less harsh. “Isn’t it exhausting coming all the way here, every single day? You don’t have any obligation to that boy, but your kid, your work... you already have your hands full... you really don’t need that, you really don’t need to spend your whole life looking after a─”.

Eddie clinches his jaw and doesn’t let his dad finish that sentence. “Enough.” he repeats rudely, louder. “We aren’t talking about this shit ever again. He is getting better. He will come back home and we are going to be together. I don’t care if you like this or not. It’s my life, and you don’t get to be nosy about my choices, about my parenting style, about who the hell I love. Enough.” he adds before going back inside.

Buck looks at him, glassy and tired eyes, and then moves his gaze on his father, managing a lackluster smile.

Helena straightens on her sit. “Ramon,” she calls, her mother-like tone, the one she always used when Eddie was a reckless kid. “You shouldn’t have made a scene here”.

“Take him out of here, mama” Eddie roars, his voice deep and severe. “I’m not gonna talk about this anymore”.

“Eddie...” she starts, her voice soft.

“Enough” he says again, louder this time. "You don’t get to come here and meddle in my life. There’s a reason I came here, in order to─”

“Eddie?” Buck calls him quietly shushing him. “We should all mind where we are, and you should really mind your words”.

Eddie wilts in the chair, groaning, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Your parents are just worried, and you are exhausted.” Buck adds, smiling but that smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “We are going to drop it for today. You have that fancy reservation at that cute restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard, right?” he says then, looking at Helena who nods. “Go, I’ll take care of Eddie, and talk some sense into him, mh?”.

He hears his father mutter something under his breath, preceding his wife outside.

Helena steps closer to the bed, and hugs Buck softly before reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek. “You know your papa always says things for your own good, Eddie”.

And Eddie growls something, nodding then.

They wait in utter silence for a couple of moments. Just enough to be sure his parents’ ears are far enough.

Eddie doesn’t have the courage to move his eyes on Buck, who took his hands when Helena got out of there. He doesn’t know where to start, he just, can’t. He can’t start this thing. He doesn’t want to fight about his parents, it already happened a long time ago, back in Texas, back with Shannon. And Buck is in a hospital bed, in a bad shape, a bit feverish and all tired. This isn’t the right moment.

Buck strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. “Your father isn’t that wrong Eddie. And fuck, I had just finished saying you shouldn’t treat them that bad and...”.

“How much did you hear?” Eddie grits his teeth so hard that his jaw almost hurts.

“Enough?” Buck says, in a soft smile.

Eddie clenches his fists, brow bumping together in a scowl. “And you say he isn’t wrong? Evan, he said awful things about you!”.

“He hasn’t. Not today at least. And it’s true, we don’t know how bad my shape will be, but… on the positive side, I may be as fast as Christopher, so you won’t have to stress out…” Buck retorts, shrugging.

“You…” he starts to say.

“I know It’s exhausting being here.” Buck adds, without blinking.

“No. It isn’t. I wanna be here” Eddie replies, staring at him with wide eyes, before averting his look again. “And you are perfect. You are getting better. And you make me so happy I can’t... you aren’t doing this thing to us… I’m not gonna let you do it.” he starts to say.

“What thing, Eddie? I’m just talking to...” he murmurs, tilting his head on a side.

But Eddie interrupts him. “You are breaking up with me, it’s clear”.

“Are you willing to look at me and explain why should I break up with you?” Buck says with a playful tone in his voice. “Because, you know, I was sure I told you that you won’t have to stress out and leave me with Christopher, one of us being the baby sitter of the other. Leaving you, isn’t an option”.

And when Eddie moves his eyes, and looks at him, the only thing he can see in his gleaming blue irises is trust, and love, and something much, much more deep. Something Eddie can’t really fathom.

“I survived hell and back, I slept for like six whole months, I relearned to talk and walk. And you were here all along. I won’t break up with you for your father comments... I may be a bit insecure, a lot insecure, for the matter… but I can get a bit of criticism, from the in-laws…” he says with a cocky wink and a confident smile.

“But you said...” Eddie starts.

“I just said he isn’t wrong, Eddie. Because, in fact, he isn’t wrong. You are exhausted, you work a very stressing job, you have to take care of yourself and your son, and you come here to take care of me too. That’s what I heard... and it’s also true you don’t have any obligation to me...” Buck murmurs, arching a sly brow. “I heard that too”.

“I have obligations to you!” Eddie murmurs, his voice thin like a whisper. “I have...”.

“I heard that too.” Buck says, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I heard you, and all he marvellous things you said about me. And trust me, I know my love has the same shape of yours,”.

“He said we aren’t married but...” he starts to say and then stops and looks at Buck, an amused smile plastered on his lips.

“I don’t need a wedding or a ring to know how committed, how much effort we are putting in this relationship” he says then, his voice impossibly soft and caring and fond. “And please, before you do something stupid and kneel down here and ask me to marry you, trust me, I don’t need a ring. Not now, at least. You don’t get to ask me to marry you while I’m still here, I’ve stayed a lot of time in here, I won’t accept if you don’t woo me around. A fancy restaurant or… after a lot of sex. I don’t know...”.

Eddie chuckles softly, and leans in forward, sinking in his warmth. “I love you”.

“I know that. You don’t even need to tell me that out loud. Your whole body tells me that every single day. Even your adorable pouty face tells me that... And I love you too, so much” he murmurs back, kissing the top of his head. “But, you should rest a bit more at home, take a better care of yourself and spend more time with Chris, he loves me, but he loves you so much. I’m an adult, and you can leave me alone for a couple of days or as long as your parents are here. They are eight hundred miles away from us. They won’t barge in your house and decide on your life”.

“But they...” he wants to say again.

“I know, they are going to be meddlesome even if they were to live at the exact opposite of the globe. But you don’t get to tell your mother you wanted to put mileage between you because they are nosy. That’s what parents are meant for. You’ll do the same with Chris when he gets older…” Buck adds, chuckling. "You just have to pretend for a bit. Then I’ll be out here, and you and I are gonna make up a lot, to catch up... you know?”.

Eddie groans. “I can’t do that. I want to be here. I need to be here. I need you. I need your voice... your touch... I need you”.

“As much as I need you” Buck replies, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “But maybe that will help with your father taking a liking to me”.

“So he finally gets his head out of his ass?” he asks in a snarl.

Buck laughs softly. “Urgh, I need you to be more cooperative for this to work...”.

“Or I just have abuela give him the shovel talk. So, that I can snuggle here with you and Chris...” Eddie says crawling back on the bed.

“That could work too” Buck hums, making room on the bed for him. “Abuela, my ultimate defender”.

“That will work. Because I need the cuddle therapy,” Eddie says, taking him to his chest and resuming where they left off.

Buck chuckles again, a soft endearing sound. Moving to tug Eddie in his warm and sweet embrace, Eddie’s head under his chin. “See, I knew it! You are using me! What a big meanie!”.

Eddie mutters something against his neck. “Fuck, I was falling asleep... almost seven months without you in bed with me and they had to intrude even in that. Dios!”.

Buck cackles hard, breathless. “Ouch, it hurts, don’t let me laugh like that”.

“Serves you right. Making fun of me...” Eddie groans, nestling against Buck and aching in contentment then. “I missed this so much”.

Buck takes in a shaky breath, before yawning loudly. “Have you eaten? They made me eat at five today, like I’m some old man in a nursing home. But I saved all the red Jellos for you. They are in the bedside cabinet”.

“Ah! You know me so well” Eddie murmurs. “I already ate at the station, I just want to snuggle now. And you are tired, they woke you...”.

Buck yawns profusely, moving ab it closer. “You know I’m like a rabbit, when it comes to sleep”

“Or a narcoleptic” Eddie muses.

“Urgh, stop making fun of me!” Buck snorts. “Let’s sleep, then. I’m sure doc isn’t going to report you”.

“Nah, it’s cheesy science” he says, leaning in a bit more.

“The perfect science,” he hears Buck say softly, while his breath becomes slower and deeper.

Eddie moves a bit in his arms, enough to move and switch off the light, moving back on the mattress.

And Buck sighs a pleased moan when Eddie moves closer again, burrowing in his warmth.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to doze off, this time. His heart warm, and his face all relaxed. He feels Buck skin getting colder under his fingertips, he can hear his breath softly caressing his face, his heartbeat drumming in his chest.

It’s perfect.

And it feels like coming home.

.

.

.

In a blink of an eye it’s morning. Or at least Maddie’s voice echoing in his ears is like the hummingbird, sparrow? Whatever it is that singsongs in the morning. He doesn’t move tho, laying there against Buck.

“You told him what??” he hears Maddie say in disbelief, her voice loud, amused.

“Ooof! Be quiet! He is sleeping” Buck groans, tightening his grip on Eddie.

He now has a bit more self-awareness, and notices that he is slouched on the bed, nestled in Buck’s side, his head in the crook of his neck. He can hear Buck voice echoing in his ribcage.

“I just told him his father was right. And he is, Mads.” Buck remarks.

“No wonder he thought you were going to break up with him. His father said awful things, about you and about your conditions before too...” she murmurs. She wasn’t present, but Eddie might have told her at some point.

“I know, I can see how exhausted he is, Mads, he is tired and I fear he is going to get tired of me too, at some point” Buck murmurs, in such a low voice that makes Eddie tremble.

But Eddie’s chest swells at those words. They need to talk about this, maybe even now.

“Don’t start with this nonsense of yours!” Maddie groans. “He loves you. And he waited for you for so long, he won’t get tired during your recovery”.

“You waited too.” Buck says.

And Eddie moves closer, to burrow better in his side. He can feel under his skin where this conversation is going, and Evan needs all his support now. But if he wakes up now, he can stop her before she does or says something stupid.

“Yeah. But if Eddie didn’t fight for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you know.” she says and then takes in a sharp breath.

“I just don’t want him to be exhausted by me. You know?” Buck murmurs.

And something warm and painful clenches in Eddie’s chest. He said so a long time ago, before getting together, long before talking out their feelings. Fuck. And he is about to move, and talk and tell him he was so wrong back then, he was just hurting and angry and... and... and... but he hears Maddie sigh again.

“He isn’t going to get tired of you, trust me. And I’m sure he is willing to take you in for the time being. You were practically already living together” she says gently. “And your apartment isn’t very friendly with your current condition. You can’t sleep on your couch like you did before, you need a proper bed and someone to look after you. Someone who keeps you in line, someone who kisses you better”.

“I still don’t get why you decided to clear out and rent my apartment” Buck groans. She did it before he woke up, when doctors said that he was brain-dead, and they have to be strong and decide. She started with the apartment. But she surely won’t say that.

“Buck...” she starts to say.

“You sure Eddie won’t mind if I go living with him? Isn’t this something he has to say himself?” he asks with a thin voice. “If we don’t count these six-seven months we haven’t been together that long, going to live together is a big step... and... he…”.

“He was here, he was here when you were left with no hope, Evan. When they told us we had to think about shutting down the life support... they said you were brain-dead, and now here you are talking…” she mutters softly. “He hasn’t stopped a second to fight for you. He told me that by choosing to donate your organs, making you do your last heroic act, I was giving up on you. I was leaving you all over again. For good this time, and he stood against me, he kept you here… he won’t give up on you now”.

And there’s a moment of silence, still and impenetrable.

Maddie is right, Eddie won’t ever give up on Buck now that they have the finish line in sight, now that he can bring him home, and stay with him for as long as Evan wants him.

But then he hears a pained breath, short and trembling. “You were...” he hears Buck’s voice stuck in his chest. “You were thinking about...”.

“Yes” she nods.

And when Buck trembles under Eddie, and clenches harder on his shoulders, Eddie who doesn’t want to intrude in this conversation, but who wants to give him as much support he can, just strengthens his grip on him.

“Evan, your doctors said that after six months of no improvements you were practically brain-dead and..." Maddie explains. “I’m sorry, I... I really am. But I really wanted the best for you, you were lying here and─”.

“You were letting me go?” he says, his voice breaking at the end. “You were going to let me go and... and... and... how can this be the best for me? I was left without a choice, you said yourself I shouldn’t leave a biological will, you decided for me! You didn’t trust me!”.

“Evan... you weren’t here. We were─” she murmurs.

“I was here.” he snarls and then takes in a deep breath, coughing twice before continuing. “I was the one who was fighting to get back to you. You didn’t trust me!” he says now, quietly, tired.

“Evan...” she starts again.

“You thought it was the best, I know. And I’d do so myself but… But...” he pauses for a long moment before sighing again, a trembling breath escaping his lips. “You always leave me” he murmurs then, ruffling Eddie’s shirt between his fingertips. “I need you to leave me for... I don’t know, I need to sort my thoughts. I may say something you won’t like and... I don’t want to hurt you, so please. Go. I don’t need you here now”.

“Evan I...” Maddie tries again.

“I know. You thought it was the best. I know. But you were giving up on me.” Buck groans. “And we were talking about Eddie and me, and you decided to drop this bomb on me? I was ignorant, I was happy in my blissful ignorance!”.

“My point...” she murmurs.

“Your point doesn’t matter now” he snaps finally, and his voice croaks and coughs, again and again.

Eddie shifts enough to let him inhale better. “You should go.” he murmurs to Maddie, and moves to grab him a glass of water.

“I don’t want to say something I’d regret so, please. Go.” Buck pleads, his breath trembling in the back of his throat, and he crashes in Eddie’s arms.

“Eddie I...” she starts to say again.

“I got him, don’t worry” he says adjusting his grip around him, and helping him with his water.

He waits for Maddie to get out, he will text her later, or maybe she will text first, or call.

They are tense, they all are, and Evan is restless now, he just wants to go home and rest, and get back to normal. Eddie knows this, and maybe he’ll have to speak with Maddie again about this thing, he’d suggested to avoid the subject, or maybe to wait until he got better. But she was boiling in her own guilt.

“How much did you hear?” Buck asks, his head slumping on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Since you told her to be quiet” Eddie replies, moving his hand on the small of his back. “It didn’t work”.

Buck lifts his head just enough to look into Eddie’s eyes. “Urgh, you were sleeping so well. I’m sorry”.

He cups his face in his hands, and looks in his blue eyes, all red and glassy. “Don’t be, I had the best sleep in ages,” he says before kissing his cheekbone, and moving his lips on his birthmark. “Do you want to talk about it? Your sister said I told her those things, but, trust me, I told here much worse things...”.

“My knight in shiny armour” He smiles softly, but his eyes are full of hurt and pain.

Eddie shifts closer, and kisses his temple again. “I just wanted you back and... and you are back now. And she’s happy, so much to have you back… but she was really doing a stupid thing for what she thought was the best, and maybe at some point it was… the best choice for you, you being the hero you are… would have loved to help other people…”.

“I know but…” Buck groans.

Eddie hums a soundless sigh. “She was hurting too… and I don’t say it to, you know, strike a blow for her or whatever… I just, know how much it hurt… seeing you like that…”.

Buck purses his lips in a stern grimace. “I’m sorry you had to... endure this” he says then.

“Nonsense” Eddie growls quietly. “Don’t ever say you are sorry again. It was out of your control... and you did your best to come back to me, to us…”.

Buck slumps again in his arms, his head against his shoulder, nuzzling in the crook of his neck.

“You saved my life, and not only that day... you said a lot of stupid things, we are going to sort those things out, don’t worry... but now we need to think about your recovery first, and get you out of here and then back home” Eddie says, his voice coming out low and soft, almost trembling, so he scoffs, trying to find some composure. “I’m planning to stick around you for as long as you want me”.

Buck lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah?”.

Eddie hums. “Yeah. Maddie is right, we were already practically living together, rising our son together... so, yeah, you are going to move in with me. I’m not going to let you out of my sight ever again”.

But Evan doesn’t say a thing, he just stays still there for a moment in his arms, ruffling the hem of Eddie’s shirt with a hand, the other clenched on his shoulder.

“Did she really think about that?” he asks after a couple of minutes.

Eddie nods. “Yes. They told us you were… well, but then you woke up”.

“Thank you for not giving up on me” Evan says his eyes rimmed and glassy with unshed tears.

“Thank you for not giving up.” he replies. “You won your battle, all alone, a one-man army. I was just here hoping for you to wake up”.

“But you didn’t let her do that... turning off the life support and all…” he murmurs, his voice breaking again.

“They told us you were beyond salvation. They couldn’t help you. And she felt helpless. Like me. She just wanted the best for you... and I was selfish, because I didn’t know how much you hurt, or how bad you felt, if you heard us or…” he explains slowly.

“I heard you sometimes” Buck murmurs.

Eddie widens his eyes in disbelief. “You did?” it escapes is mouth like a scruffy cry.

Buck nods, closing his eyes. “I heard Christopher, reading books to me… Maddie, crying sometimes… I heard Bobby, praying. Athena groaning… Hen and Karen talking about science and medicine… about space… I heard Chim… talking about movies, movies that he still talks about now… There were Pepa, and abuela, and Carla… their voices always optimistic… they spoke about cuisine, and food, and tv shows…” he adds with his breath short in his throat. “But mostly I heard you. Calling my name and asking me to come back”, he adds, his voice soft and broken with so many emotions.

“You did?” he asks again, a weird pain in his chest. He heard them, he really heard them.

“When I heard you, I always tried to move and… and… but I couldn’t, at some point I decided it was only my mind, that maybe that was what death looks like…” he says, softly. “I know it was hard, I can understand why Maddie thought the best option for me, at that point, was to let me do a last heroic act. But then… but then I think about you, about my brain glows up when you talk to me, I think about how much pain you endured while you waited and…” he tightens his lips “You didn’t choose the easy path, you didn’t give up on me”.

“She didn’t give up, I didn’t let her” Eddie whispers. “I just wanted you back, Evan” he replies. “Chris was going to ask Santa to take you back. I couldn’t do a thing, I just sat here, three floors down, on a very uncomfortable chair and waited, and hoped. And it hurt because I couldn’t help you enough. I wasn’t enough”

“You waited for me, you didn’t give up, that’s enough.” Buck says, a soft smile on his lips.

“And, just so you know, it isn’t exhausting at all. Coming here,” he says kissing the soft spot right before the curve of his ear. “It wasn’t exhausting waiting for you.” He moves his lips again, on his temple. “It isn’t exhausting talking to you, looking at you... now, snuggling with you, smooching you” he adds, and at every word he leaves a small peck on his face. “You aren’t exhausting, you never were. And I’m sorry about all those mean things I told you got stuck in your beautiful, smart head”.

Buck’s breath itches in his throat, his lips trembling and his eyes watering a bit.

“I promised you smooches,” Eddie says, pushing him back on the mattress. “So before your PT, I’m going to kiss you senseless,”.

“Keep it PG,” Buck smirks breathless. “In case your dad comes back,”.

“Umpf ! I’m the responsible adult here! And I don’t want to traumatize all the kind nurses here... plus my dad isn’t going to come before noon, he has breakfast with abuela...” Eddie says leaning in to kiss the bridge of his nose. “Let me take care of you and let’s not talk about my parents for now... after your therapy session with me I’ll let you call your sister, I know you are already guilt-tripping yourself...” he says looking into his eyes concerned.

“I just... I don’t like snapping...” he murmurs. “Or fighting with her... I was…”.

“Angry, hurt... I know. And I told her some hurtful shit...” he replies. “But, let me take care of you, now. And let’s dig in with some more cuddle therapy. Let’s leave our relatives out of our heads for a moment, uh?”.

And said that he snuggles closer again, kissing him. And he takes his time, to remember and live this moment.

Time.

Time that seemed a dream only a few weeks ago.

They have time now, to sort their things out, to recover. Time to be happy and laugh. Time to find their happiness.

Time to live.

Together.

.

.

.

As always, stay safe and take care of you!

Yet there have been tiny developments, so small that it seemed to be going round in circles, tiny improvements which, however, have ignited hope even in Maddie, who has stopped talking about organ donation for a few days. Evan who occasionally moves his fingers, Evan who occasionally moves his eyes under his eyelids. But to every small improvement, every tiny answer, always follows a flat calm made up of evoked potentials that give no answer, if not a small or large deterioration. But every now and then Evan reacts to the stimuli, every now and then his fingers barely move, when they touch the palm of his hand, in a grasping reflex that is increasingly unexpected. There is a minimum of activity and to that, to that tiny activity Eddie hangs on with his nails and teeth. But as the sixth month of coma approached, doctors began talking. And there is this extremely young and harsh neurologist who has started saying things, frightening things. Without evident brain damage, without a specific cause to be attributed to his brain, it is necessary to diagnose a permanent vegetative state. He began to talk about withdrawing nutritional support, to remove life support, in slow steps so he doesn’t feel any pain or discomfort, and as long as his organs are still serviceable, donate them. They started throwing in the towel too, everyone except the old doctor and the young surgeon, and Eddie is so tired and so angry because Buck is there, he has these tiny reflexes, and those must be enough for them to fight. Even Maddie has started to talk about organ donation, again, she started to say that those are just reflexes and that aren’t that unusual, that the rest of the reactions that Evan should give are important, and he doesn’t answer, he doesn’t react.

And Evan is so thin now, so fucking thin, tiny, so pale, and if they run his hand through his hair, tiny locks remain entangled between their fingers. If Evan is reacting, his body is quickly letting go. And Eddie knows that he has no more time to hope, and that little time he has left with him, he must begin to understand how he will go on later on, when Eddie will give in and consent, giving permission to disconnect the life support and let him go.

He is so irritable, Eddie, so unmotivated to even go there in that little room to sit near him, near Evan who doesn’t look like Evan anymore. He is breathing hard now when he enters the room, his heart rumbling in his chest and his breath shortening at every single step. He already couldn’t sleep, it took forever to fall asleep, but now his sleep is broken all night, and there are strange nightmares that take away his breath, he as an old man who sees his life as a viewer, as he isn’t allowed to live that life, a life in black and white, weak, and every time he wakes up he is even more tired and empty.

He loses patience easily, and is often one step away from scolding Christopher, and it’s so fucking frightening, finding himself being short with his family. It also happens with his colleagues, but in the end, it’s also their fault, it’s also the fault of his found family if he and Evan no longer have time.

The little he eats remains on his stomach, he has this strange low-grade stomach ache all the time, it feels like having butterflies in his stomach, but they look more like wasps, who are banging from one side to the other.

And if only he were less in control, he would be able to cry a little, a little more. And Frank says he should do it, let go and let go of everything he feels, it’s normal that it hurts so much, it’s physiological, it’s chemical, it’s everything and nothing. But he feels so empty, so detached from reality, and continues to go on with his days by the sheer force of inertia, mechanically, because if he let himself go, if he answered really emotionally, if he really connected to reality, he wouldn’t be able to remain at afloat.

He’s just empty. Simply empty.

His head is empty, his heart is dry, and when he enters there everything falls on him. When he sees Evan not responding, who occasionally moves his fingers when he takes his hand, who seems to listen to him when he speaks, when he sees that he is no longer colourful, cheerful, sunny, that is only a spectre, a ghost of what, of who he was, everything falls on him. His Buck wouldn’t want to live like this. And Eddie can’t be really selfish enough to keep him there again and again, even now that his body is letting go.

He doesn’t have the courage to stay there when they move him to avoid pressure ulcers, and as much as he has learned to gently exercising his joints to prevent them becoming tight, he has gradually begun to feel a frightening panic, now that his wrists are so thin and he could swear to hear the patella move on the meniscus. And so when the nurses are there to do those treatments, when they change the catheter, when they clean his mouth and teeth, when they do all those little manoeuvres to clean him, to move him, Eddie stays out of that little room.

Eddie visits the hospital chapel from time to time, when Maddie is up with him or when nurses take care of what is called supportive treatment. He isn’t a religious type, although raised in a very traditional family, very attached to religion, although he wears a medal of a saint around his neck as a good luck charm, he has seen too many bad things to believe in God, yet he has had his miracles in some way. So he decidedes to proceed with this perhaps bigoted hope, and even if he doesn’t know what to ask, if he no longer knows how to pray, if he doesn’t know which saint to turn to, he is there and looks at the wooden coffered ceiling, looks at the cross, looks at the candles. Abuela often goes there to pray for Evan, and knows for sure that she lights a candle for him every time. And he would like a miracle, of course, he would like to wake up one morning with a million unanswered calls on his phone, he would like to get to the hospital and find him awake, responsive, with bright eyes and a sparkling smile.

But most of the time his head goes somewhere else and the thing he prays for, or rather for which he speaks senselessly with himself, is to find courage and not ask whoever it is, for a miracle. He is there waiting in that room to look for that little sign of awakening, that little clue of reaction. And he tries to feel different, every time, he tries to feel new, to silence what he feel, and to control himself. Science fiction, stories, which bend reality. He can’t forget how much he loves him, not like that, not snapping his fingers, not praying in a fucking chapel, no prayer could unbreak his heart new.

And so he needs courage, to give up hope and let him go, he needs control, he needs courage to kiss him goodbye, and bid farewell to a part of him with Evan.

And when he returns home it is unusually silent, and when he arrives at the station everything is unusually off. Eddie lives and works mechanically, emptied. He had to learn to do it by force, at the beginning even the smallest thing made him snap, and even now he is irritable, insufferable. After the week he had spent compulsorily off duty, for his little injury, at least on paper, but mostly for his state of mind, arriving at the station and finding everything in its place and all oddly different, had been atrocious. Evan’s nameplate was still there, this time there was no paper tape with a name written on it, it was all there, his locker with the usual combination, a part of his spare gear, his bag, it was all there. Everything except him.

Then his replacement had arrived. For a while they had stumbled with double shifts to cover his absence, but they couldn’t go on for so long. And as much as Bobby said he didn’t want to substitute him, that guy, Nate or whatever his name is, Buck’s fill-in is a substitute. A five-feet happy-go-lucky guy from Maine with a strange inflection dialect, tall and strong, extremely kind, is in every way a replacement, as if Evan could be replaced.

Then this guy started clicking well with the rest of the group, cooking with Bobby, sitting in Buck’s place and chatting. He talks, talks and talks. And all Eddie can think of, whenever this Nate or whatever the hell is his name, is that he would like to silence him with a punch, a punch well placed in the centre of the face. Both this poor fellow who has done absolutely nothing except the fact that he is replacing Buck, but above all to Bobby. Bobby who is extremely attentive to all group dynamics, who is directive and severe but only up to a certain point, who is ready to intervene in case of danger. Who didn’t intervene that time.

It’s hard to ignore the fact that the station is unlit, figuratively speaking, empty. He must try again to enjoy the lunches with the team, now that there is that substitute who sits next to him and not Buck, he must have the courage to stay a minute longer in the locker room, and look up at that locker that was his and now there is the plate and not the scotch of paper, nothing temporary, which says that there is someone else there, in his place.

The tag and Evan’s belongings are in a box now, in Chim’s trunk or maybe at his and Maddie’s house, because Eddie didn’t have the courage to empty that part, that little big part of Evan’s life and put it in a box. Eddie hurries past his locker. He also stopped imagining Evan, there, in the locker room with him, who tells him about this other absurdity that he learned about this or that phenomenon, a human encyclopaedia stuffed with most absurd facts, that little smile on his lips, before blowing a kiss on his forehead.

It’s been so long, yet the absence there is always so pressing, both at home and at the station.

And today is just a bad day, and the neurologist, the young and stern one, this morning said that they must decide, that with a diagnosis of a permanent vegetative state, recovery is extremely rare but not impossible. And Maddie is pressing him, and Eddie is there about to decide and at the same time he doesn’t have the courage to decide, he will never have it. 

But then again, if one can wake up that is Evan, but it is also true it is so hard to see him that, if it is almost impossible for him to wake up then it’s no longer worth let him wither like that. He can still do a lot for many other people, he can still save lives. And maybe they should just let him go. He’ll tell Christopher tonight, and tomorrow they’ll say goodbye and let go of his hand, let go of him. 

He sent a message to Maddie before entering. I’m not ready. And it is the truth because he will never be, he will never be ready to let him go, he will be materially to end his life, he will never overcome it. But he has to do it for him, he must have the courage. Tonight he will go in that room and talk to him, do as Abuela and recommend, there will not be parting words, there will not be goodbyes, because maybe they will have luck in another life, and there will not be goodbyes because Evan will always stay with him. As long as he breathes.

So, today more than any other day, he feels underwater with that tremendous new awareness of the time slipping away from his fingers, hope shrivelling in his heart. Eddie just wants to finish his job mechanically, maybe a series of beautiful interventions could help him not to think for a while and then go back to the hospital and find courage, find the right words, put his heart in peace and remember how different Evan is from what he was, how frightening it is to see him wither, how much it will hurt to let him go. But when he enters the station there are balloons, garlands, there is noise.

“Eddie come on, we’re celebrating,” someone shouts, but Eddie proceeds quickly towards the lockers and sits there looking at something in front of him.

Usually Bobby is the one who goes down there to retrieve him and force him to have lunch with them, he tries to weave a conversation with him. And every single time Eddie doesn’t have the strength to replicate, or maybe he does have it, but he doesn’t have enough nerve to avoid bursting, snapping. He’s tired, he’s so tired of drifting his emotions, without a guiding star to lighten his sailing, because his north star is in a hospital bed and is gradually turning off that mighty light. And he would like to let off steam and lose control, take Bobby and slam him on the wall, he who first gave instructions to stop with the compressions, who gave up on him, who ordered to leave him under that house in that hell of smoke and flames, who practically did nothing but deny him the support he wanted, if not to leave him on the bench, without telling him anything, without giving him the right explanations. Bobby who now behaves like a good captain, who teaches cooking to the substitute, who spends his days trying to start a conversation, who goes to the hospital once a week, who perhaps prays a bit for Evan in the evening too, or perhaps he prays only for himself, to clear his conscience.

“Hey Diaz, it’s my birthday, let’s celebrate!” someone mumbles, but Eddie doesn’t hear, or maybe he hears but decides not to react, because his reaction would be the wrong one, and he needs to work, not so much to pay Evan’s hospital bills, which apparently are covered by the excellent health fund that he has stipulated, in addition to their insurance, or from his father, whoever he is, this mysterious occult partner of their life, but to disconnect, to forget his feelings, to keep his head busy. He stretches his legs and hopes that the damned siren will ring. He even hopes for a cat stuck in a tree, all to avoid being there.

“Eddie?” this time the voice is Hen’s. “Do you want a piece of cake?”.

And Eddie moves his head to look at her. “Have you ever noticed that we didn’t throw him a party when he came back?”.

“You say after the lawsuit?” she asks taking a seat at his side.

“Yeah,” nods . “He just wanted to come back to work and we were pieces of shit. He still says sorry sometimes. Said sorry…” he corrects himself with a weird huff. “He was always here when we needed him and yet… we were pieces of shit”.

“We didn’t give our best, back then...” she agrees.

Eddie purses his lips. “I’m not hungry, I don’t want the cake, I don’t want to celebrate… I don’t... you should go up with the others and enjoy this moment...” he shakes his head.

“Eddie...” Hen begins to say, her voice soft.

And he sighs. “A party. I didn’t think we were even celebrating birthdays here”.

“He wanted to do something nice, you know... there is tense air here... you can cut the atmosphere with a knife so tans and cold…” he sighs. “Nate just wants to be part of the group, you know”.

Eddie snorts. “With a party”.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “What do you say, you don’t have to celebrate, but at least eat a slice of cake?” she keeps saying.

He shrugs. “You go, I don’t... I’m not in the mood”.

“I guess.” Hen sighs.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be in the mood. That guy is taking his place. And if Buck knew, Dios, how pissed he would be, and hurt and...” he shakes his head and smiles at himself, if he imagines him complaining in bed, or on the sofa, if he imagines him working twice as hard to get back to them. And the smile remains bitter on his lips and shakes his head, while tears swell at the corners of his eyes.

“He will never take its place,” Hen replies, her tone gentle, optimistic as always.

“Tell Bobby.” Eddie snorts a half bitter sigh.

And she looks at him, curling her eyebrows and purses her lips before speaking “Eddie everyone lives with pain in his own way”.

“He didn’t do anything, Hen. He didn’t do a thing, he didn’t allow us to do anything. And now he’s over there and teaches cooking to that guy?” he grumbles.

Hen sighs, squeezes her hand on his shoulder, but this gesture only makes him stiffen more. “Eddie... Nate has nothing to do with it”.

“It’s a bad day, I should have taken today off. I should have been with him today,” he murmurs with a whisper. Today could be the last day I will spend with him and... I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready.

“You can go there later. I thought I would come too, maybe next Tuesday, you know... I found some articles that I think would interest him a lot. Karen has prepared a small summary of NASA’s new discoveries and updates that will surely please him and...” she continues to say.

“You should go today. You too, maybe Tuesday will be late...” he replies.

“Late?” Hen repeats, her brows furrowed. “What are you saying, Eddie?”.

Eddie purses his lips and rolls his eyes, wrinkling his nose. He would have expected a lot more support from them, everyone knows, right? “Chim knows it, so you know it too. And if you know it, Athena knows it too, and if Athena knows it, Bobby knows it too. I just have to sign those papers and... let him go”.

“What papers? Eddie are you talking about?” she mumbles.

Eddie swallows and turns his gaze to his locker. “Who knows what was in there to make him calm down every time, I would like to know, I would like to understand... I can’t ask him anymore”.

“Eddie?” she continues to say. “What are you saying, he will wake up you know, right?”.

He slowly glances over her, heaves a sigh and relaxes his shoulders. “His new neurologist, the young one, wrote... they diagnosed... on his file there is now written permanent vegetative state. And Maddie wants to turn off the life support”.

Hen’s eyes widen, his glasses glaze over. “What?”.

“She’s been saying it over and over again, it’s been months now…” Eddie shrugs.

And the paramedic moves over him. “And what do you think?”.

Eddie doesn’t know how to say it, what he thinks. “Now with this diagnosis... this diagnosis is final, Hen, and he doesn’t react...” he murmurs as he shakes his head slowly, and his stomach tightens from how much his tone sounds pliant. “Evan is no longer there. The small movements he makes, he makes them because the nerves are... because...” and his voice becomes thin and feeble as a whisper. “I don’t even know how to explain and... he’s so thin, Hen, slender... his hair remains in your hand if you caress it and...” he sniffs and looks at her. “His body is giving up and Maddie... Maddie is right. It’s right to make him make one last heroic gesture”.

“Donate his organs?” she realizes. “Eddie... but he’s still alive he... he moves every now and then, his fingers will...”.

“The evoked potentials... brain activity is almost non-existent, Hen. Buck, Evan would never want to live like this. And I don’t know how to do it anymore, because I would fight with my nails and my teeth, again and again to bring him home with me, but... his body is giving up, and I don’t know how much it hurts, maybe he doesn’t feel anything and... but maybe he’s afraid and it hurts and I don’t... I can’t... I can’t be so selfish, I can’t force him to survive...” he mutters, confusedly. “I will never be ready but, but before he goes into septicaemia, he… he would like to save other lives. He stayed in there because we heard a scream, but I think he was one of those whispers of smoke... and he pushed me out because he’s like this, he’s like this, he wants to save everyone and...” he shakes his head. “And he would like to donate organs, he would like this. If he could choose, Evan would choose this”.

And she slowly nods the tears that swell in her eyes. “Of course, he is a hero, he doesn’t even need a cape”.

“Chris says he’s like Captain America, who sleeps in the ice and will come back to us, to do the right thing once again...” adds Eddie, with a small inexplicable smile, which remains again so bitter on his lips. “I don’t know how to tell him that hope disappears at some point, and you can’t fight anymore. I would never want to teach my son this thing...” he mumbles.

Hen reaches out to embrace him. “I’m sorry Eddie, living with this awareness... I... I didn’t know... why didn’t you tell us? You know you could come to us, right?”.

Eddie sighs. He never wanted to talk about it, saying it out loud is like making it come true and reality is scary. “I thought Chim told you, I thought you all knew it”.

“I don’t think he wanted to tell me about it, I would have said what I think about it, I would have said that I don’t agree, that he is a sleepyhead that... that you should give him more time. I don’t agree, but it’s not my choice to make.  Every situation is different, every situation is…” she shakes her head and tightens her grip on Eddie. “But he would like this, you’re right. Saving other lives,” she mumbles with a certain fondness in her voice. “He is a hero”.

Eddie nods softly. “I just have to find the courage to let him go”.

“It takes a lot of courage, but we will be here for you, you know it” she replies taking his face in her hands, in a maternal, kind, affectionate gesture.

“Ah,” hisses mockingly. “If he’s gone, I have no reason to be here. I’ll go back to my mother, my family in El Paso. I already have all the papers ready, it’s just a little form to sign, nothing more”.

“Eddie!” she begins to say, but the siren begins to ring. “We will finish this later”.

.

.

.

Turns out that they can’t finish that talk, later.

The shift worsens gradually, without giving them breath, and Eddie thanks a bit that it is such a busy and demanding day, so his head remains clear and doesn’t think. He doesn’t think about Evan and the fact that Maddie will be there today with Christopher, like every Friday, that she has the day off and for his kid this means spending a lot of time with his Bucky. Because Chris is so good, and he will always wait for him. As he waited for Eddie and Shannon.

And Eddie doesn’t think about him, or maybe he actually thinks about him, thinks about what he would have done differently, he thinks about how much Buck would have been scolded if he had jumped on the roof of a house and not that guy from Maine, he thinks he could hear him laughing, when they are all whole in the truck and ready for another emergency, if he can imagine Evan planning their weekend. But in the truck in his place is that substitute who keeps on talking, who tries to start a conversation with Eddie. And Eddie has reached a point of no return, he has reached a point where he no longer listens to anything, a point where he no longer wants to hear anything, in any sense. His life proceeds by the sheer force of inertia, and he gets emptier with every step, his knees weaker and heart too. Buck would have understood that he had to shut up, Buck would reach out and caress his thigh with that gentle and reassuring touch.

Two accidents and two tamed fire later, and Eddie is sitting on the sofa, eyes closed, trying to control his breathing, trying to calm down. That internal anger that mounts in his throat every time they are all around the table has taken away his appetite today too.

There are still a few hours until the end of their shift and he suddenly feels that ancient need, like an itch under his skin. He feels the urge to fight, something that seemed dormant now. But perhaps it would help him get back in control, back at the helm of his life. Buck wouldn’t judge him anyway, whether he was there or not, Evan would still love him, in any case, beyond any circumstance, any prediction, any bad thought, beyond any wrong choice. Buck would love him anyway. How he loved him unconditionally, for all that short time they have been together, as he knows perfectly well that he still loves him, even in his non-slumber sleep.

“Eddie,” grumbles Bobby. “We need to talk”.

And maybe a small part of him expected it, talking to Hen also meant that. That she would confide this burden to Athena and that somehow it would reach Bobby’s ears.

Eddie gets up and drags himself into the captain’s office. He doesn’t know how tired or how angry he is looking at him, but he knows that resentment is like gall in his veins.

“Sit down,” Bobby tells him, fatherly.

And they had an excellent relationship, they on paper have an excellent relationship. And surely if Eddie listened to his head, his rationality, he would understand that Bobby tried to do the best, even that day. But the best isn’t always enough. It wasn’t enough, not this time.

“Who told you?” he asks slowly, without taking a seat.

“Athena. She went to see him today. And she read the medical record. How long have you known?” mutters Bobby, also standing in his place.

Eddie purses his lips. “This morning, but it was in the air since long before”.

And now Bobby sits down and looks at him. “Eddie I...” he begins to say.

“I think I’ll resign, Bobby. Not with immediate effect because I want Chris to end his elementary school here, but...” he shakes his head. “At the end of his school year we will return to El Paso, I would like you to move me to another station, or to change my shift. I don’t want to work with you”.

“Eddie” tries again to say.

“We will turn off the life support, we will donate his organs. Athena may not know this. We’ll probably take the machines off tomorrow and proceed to organ donation and...” he sighs. "He’ll be the hero one last time. A hero, what you know he does best,” he adds and walks back to the door, his eyes stingy and burning with tears.

"Eddie?" Bobby repeats, the voice sounding like a whisper.

And when Eddie turns around, maybe he has an expression so upset that he stops Bobby on the spot. He can see the captain swallowing, looking down.

“He’s a fighter,” Bobby then says, in a low voice, a strange affection, a pride that inflates his voice. “He always fights, and he will make it, he will come out of it. In a while he will be back in the truck with us. He reacts, right? You have to give him some time more”.

Eddie is tired. He’s tired of hearing him talk, he’s tired of hearing everyone talk about how strong Evan is. He knows how strong he is, how good, how amazing he is, he knows how much of a fighter he is. But, they all have to be honest and face reality. Evan really thinks it isn’t worth fighting for him, that it isn’t worth fighting, and Eddie is afraid that he is now too tired of fighting, too tired of rolling up his sleeves every time and trying to get back there, on that truck, in that station with them, with his family, with the family he chose. And his body is giving up and he doesn’t react to stimuli as he should and... and it’s scary and hurts and he knows that Evan is one who doesn’t give up, but if his body gives up before him, there is no much more to do.

And he would like to get angry, he would like Evan to get angry with them, with all of them, for not having supported him enough, for not having told him how important he is, how vital he is for the team. He has a heart of gold, and they will never be, Eddie will never be enough for him. And if he is lucky, if they are lucky and he survives, and fights a bit more, and his body reacts and he manages to return, things must change. All of them must change for him. And maybe Eddie will also have time to dismantle all his beliefs, all his resistances. Maybe he will make him feel loved enough, he will make him feel worthy enough, maybe he will be able to give him all this and much more. Or maybe it’s late and the only thing they have to do is let him be a hero one last time.

“You know I couldn’t get you in. You have a son waiting for you at home...” he hears Bobby say.

And Eddie no longer sees it, he loses his composure. He no longer has control. Christopher isn’t an excuse, he isn’t a mitigating factor. He didn’t do enough, nobody there, did enough that day. And maybe it’s not just that day, they haven’t done enough, in general since he knows Evan, since Buck is his colleague, they have always been little supportive with him. Everyone, including Eddie, who has included him in his and in his son’s lives, perhaps he hasn’t done enough. He didn’t do enough for Evan to start thinking he was worthy, worthy of being helped, worthy of being supported, worthy of being loved, worthy of a family, worthy of having time to live.

“Evan has a son waiting for him at home as much as I do, a son who goes to the hospital and reads his favourite books to him. A son who wants to ask Santa to wake up his Bucky because he managed to give him this gift other times, when asked for my return, when asked for Shannon to be home… a son that loves Buck more than I can ever love.” he shakes his head with his eyes closed, not to let a tear leave his eyelids, and tries to control himself, because under his skin there is that ancient call that reminds him of the arena, the cage, the noise, fighting for his own good.

“Eddie, I just thought about limiting the damage,” Bobby mumbles. The way he repeats his name might seem aggressive, if someone else did it, it certainly would have sounded aggressive, but Bobby seems to be pleading him, begging him to see with his own eyes, his vision of things.

And Eddie doesn’t want to humanize him, doesn’t want to hear him, doesn’t want to understand. He is too angry and empty at the same time. “You didn’t make us intervene. In these cases, the timing is vital. And he stopped breathing, his heart stopped beating and... and there was so much blood in his lungs that he couldn’t breathe and... and I can’t get it out of my head that it’s your fault too, Bobby.” He adds, this time it looks more like a growl. “I don’t want to work with you anymore. I no longer trust your judgment or mine, if I work with you. I am too angry and sorry, because rationally, rationally I know that you have done the best for us, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Evan.” he reiterates trying to get back in control, at the helm of his emotions.

“Eddie, take some time. Surely when Buck gets better...” Bobby starts to say.

“He will never get better. We will let him go. I will have to explain to my son that we have to let him go and I will have to hope that he doesn’t hate me as much as I hate myself, for giving up. But Buck… Evan wouldn’t want to live like this.” he adds in a low voice. “Take it as a warning. After he leaves, I will take my bereavement two days leave and then I’ll use all my off work days. And when I’ll be back I’d like you to move me to another station or at least another shift. I am not going to play happy family with all of you. No more, never more” and before he can say anything more the siren rings, alerting them of another emergency.

And Eddie is already on the stairs, ready for action.

.

.

In the truck he doesn’t listen, in the truck he just thinks. He thinks and rethinks about today, what will happen today and then tomorrow, and what will happen from tomorrow onwards.

When he’ll go to the hospital today, he will talk to him about his day, he will talk to him about today’s emergencies. He will tell him how that tutorial on youtube didn’t help him at all not to burn their toast this morning. He will describe the sunset and the drawings of the clouds in the sky. He will recommend him not to do anything stupid wherever he goes, and will hold his hand until he begins to understand how to do it, how to live without him, how to leave his hand.

A change of air, returning to El Paso could be another fresh start. But he doesn’t want a brand new start, he won’t get a brand new start from the pieces torn apart. Eddie wants to feel that pain and doesn’t want to forget it. Because a lot of love corresponds to the same pain, and even if more months have passed in that muddy limbo, of uncertainties and time that flows away from the fingers, rather than those they have actually spent together loving each other, with all their heart, with their whole bodies, with their whole minds, Evan will leave an unbridgeable void. But he needs someone, someone who will keep him afloat in the future, otherwise he will bring his son, his tiny ray of sunshine, down into his pitch black abyss.

.

It is a young couple, the one woven into the sheet-metal of a Saab. She who cries out in pain, the horrible awareness that he is not breathing on her.

She comes out intact, she, as Eddie got out unscathed that day. While he, whose life is hanging by a thread, quickly fizzles on the stretcher, before reaching the ambulance. And he protected her, he took all the shock when he noticed the other car, which was about to take them in full. And he played the hero like Buck and life, bastard, took him away, like is taking Evan away.

It’s almost the end of his shift when that phone call arrives. They just finished recovering their tools and got back on the truck, leaving behind the place of an accident where not only devastation hovers, but the vague memory, a tremendous understanding, an inalienable judgment. They haven’t done enough, they haven’t been there on time, they haven’t be enough, like that other day. Sorrow overshadow Eddie’s heart.

So, Eddie answers almost without thinking, without looking at the screen. And he hears someone sniffling, breathing heavily. “Daddy?”.

“Hey buddy, what’s going on? You never call me when I’m at work.” he hums, trying not to read as much in his kid’s voice, like his grief is only a shadow that walks with him today, more than any other day. “Chris? What’s going on, mijo?”.

“Daddy...” he repeats again and hears him sobbing.

And his heart becomes so small in his chest. “Chris, Chris? Let me talk to Maddie, alright, buddy?” he mumbles and glances at Bobby who is already facing him. And he does everything in his power to breathe slowly, he does everything he can not to panic.

“Eddie, Eddie you have to come here right away... Evan... collapsed...” says Maddie, breathless.

“What?”. Eddie doesn’t even hear himself saying it, he couldn’t be a judge of how painfully that sound rings in his ears.

“We were with him, inside and... suddenly the saturation dropped all together. They sent us out... Eddie I’m afraid that...” she starts to explain.

“Don’t say it” He blocks her. And he knows, he knows that if she says it out loud his heart will break into a thousand pieces, but then there is Christopher there and he still hasn’t explained anything to him, he hasn’t explained to him what will happen when they let him go. “Not in front of Christopher, not yet, okay? I’m coming, give me time, I’m coming,” he tells her and begins to silently pray for time. Time to see him one last time and hope one last time.

“What’s going on Eddie?” asks Bobby.

“Evan. He... I have to go to the hospital. The saturation dropped” he replies mechanically, trying to control himself, but in his head there is only that silent and boundless prayer.

He will be late, he knows it. It’s already late. The sun is setting and he is not ready. He wanted more time, he was still thinking about what to tell him, because he knows that Evan hears him, he knows that he can hear him. He could hear his voice. And now? 

.

.

.

.

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.

.

.

Throughout the stretch of road, he continued to think, think and rethink. They will not see Christopher grow in the wonderful man he will be, they will not grey together bickering in the backyard, they will not look at the stars together, they will not see the sunset together. They will not have the good immense luck to marry, they will not love and fight, and reconcile. Take and get lost in each other. They have not had this immense luck, of being able to love each other for a long time, of being able to get used to the idea of ​​not having a future together. Their nights together were a trickle, numbered, like the days they spent together, work a distant memory, pain and suffering, the continuous not being enough to save lives.

Eddie feels so drained when he gets there. When the noise of the hospital swallows his thoughts. And there is this storm that is swelling in his chest.

Buck was there when he started his new life, he was a constant. His presence has been a constant even when they have been far away, the need to have him in his life, in his daily life has broken a monotony, a schematic, pragmatic routine, forged by his mental state and his past. And there were little things, little big things in their days, little steps that became brighter and happier. The problem with people is that they often forget that it’s the little things that matter most, and Evan is the light, and the oxygen, he’s his way home, he is all the little big things that made his life better. And Eddie knows that he will have to go on, that his life must go on, anyway, grit his teeth and walk, proceed along the road of his life, even without having Evan next to him, without being able to reach out and hold his hand and find comfort, safety, anchoring. He has always been there in this new part of his life, and Eddie could now divide his life into a before and an after. In a before and after Buck. And his brief while has already come to an end. Their numbered nights. Their numbered days.

And it’s late, it’s late, it’s late. It’s so fucking late. Buck who was there even before he felt the need, Evan who has become an integral, crucial part of his life, and who will now leave an infinite void. Until his heart stops hurting. Because one day it will stop, and Eddie is afraid right now of when that day will come, when he will stop feeling this incredible void.

He knows the hospital by heart, and when he gets out of the truck his legs are going for him, his body moving autonomously, and his mind, his mind traveling fast towards that day, towards that day when he will thank goodness, and fear takes his heart. One person can’t disappear like this, Eddie can’t stop feeling that pain. He still misses Shannon, sometimes, so hard that it breaks his heart. He still misses the mother she could have become, the wonderful woman who did her best. Eventually over time all the mistakes disappear, all the quarrels, all the fights become little nothings and only the good things remain, and perhaps the therapy helped him a little. With Buck, with Evan he didn’t have the time to build those memories, yet his warmth in his life was so great, his colours so bright, his affection so essential.

Eddie walks past the chapel and looks at the cross and the candles that shine at the bottom on the altar from the small mosaic window. And prays, prays, to have some more time at least for the latest recommendations, to tell him how much he loves him, at least one last time. He won’t be able to demonstrate all that love to him, he won’t be able to operate that love, he won’t be able to give it voice.

And then he proceeds, walks quickly, steps heavy and knees that seem to tremble.

And when he arrives in the waiting room there is Christopher holding his book tightly against his chest and his head down and Maddie trying to calm him.

“I got here as fast as I could” murmurs Eddie, the turnout coat and the pants and braces that weigh him down now, all together.

“Daddy!” peeps Christopher throwing himself into his arms. “We have to wait for him some more, right? We wait for him?”.

Maddie takes a choked breath between her clenched teeth.

“Okay mijo, you and I need to talk about something, okay?” he babbles cupping his son’s face with his hand before hurrying to take off his coat and those heavy trousers, to remain with his station uniform, his thin blue trousers and his T-shirt. And then he looks over at Maddie, and smiles softly before turning his attention again to his kid. He kneels down in front of him, and takes a deep breath.

“But we fight with him, do─don’t we? We─We don’t stop fighting, do we? Because if we stop… he stops too,” Chris murmurs sobbing quietly, his eyes are reddened by tears.

And Eddie then leans over to him and takes his little face between his fingers and smiles softly, wrinkling his nose, before pulling him into a tight tight hug. “You know your Buck always fights, don’t you? But there is a time when we can no longer fight for him, and we can no longer ask him to fight.” he says softly. “He wants to do fight like Ironman now. Snap his fingers and save lives, but you know what this means...” he mumbles and is amazed at how simple it is to say it this way, an allegory. And he hears Christopher nod as he sniffles. “And you know that I would never want him to snap his fingers and decide for us, but...”.

Christopher nods and lowers his gaze, his shoulders trembling. “Like Iron -man? But if he snap his fingers...”.

“Look at me Christopher,” Eddie says softly and picks up his tiny face again between his fingers, and tries to stretch a smile, even if his eyes are burning and he feels like crying and would never want to do this speech. “It won’t erase him from our hearts, it’s normal to feel sad, he will always love us even if we stop fighting and let him be the hero. He will always be with us, like mommy, huh? And we will love him anyway even if he has decided to be a hero and snap his fingers, and to go away and save many other people if he does”. He adds swallowing a thick lump in his throat. “You know he is a hero and... and we would have loved him anyway that he was a superhero or a supervillain, because Buck is Buck”.

“But I... I haven’t finished reading the book to him,” Christopher adds with his trembling voice. “I pro─promised to read it to him, to finish it... few pages... only one chapter to go”.

And Eddie doesn’t know what to say, and just hugs him before looking at Maddie. And then move his gaze to something else, anything else.

And then he hears footsteps, a brisk, quick step. A nurse who enters the waiting room. “Family of an Evan Buckley?”.

And Eddie looks at Maddie and silently entrusts Christopher to her. “I’m going to talk to the doctor, okay? I’ll be right back, stay with aunt Maddie, the others are coming soon,” he adds before reaching the nurse.

And he pretends not to feel that emptiness, which falls upon him as soon as he lets go of his son.

The nurse walks quickly towards the panic doors of the ICU and hurries to say many things, she speaks all out of breath, but the only thing he can understand is that the doctor, the one whose name Eddie has never learned, but sounds in a strangely familiar way, wants to talk to him. And they pass in front of Evan’s little room and he is not there. And there is an attendant, who is arranging the bed and has already begun to detach all the photos and drawings from the wall, to place them in a box with his name and a number written in a black sharpie. And Eddie’s head is emptied of all possible thoughts and scenarios, of all words and sees the light fade away, and for a moment it is hard to remember the way Evan laughed, or the warmth of his hands, or the full body grasp of his hugs.

And a small void hollows out in his heart, and then all around it, he could swear to feel emptied, almost completely when he finally sees the doctor, who is at the door of a duty nurse office and is disinfecting his hands.

“Oh, Edmundo!” he says in this extremely friendly tone.

And Eddie remains motionless for a moment, and watches him and then the words reappear at the bottom of the throat. “We want to donate his organs, is it possible to donate his organs? I... I temporised… It’s my fault… I just wanted him to wake up but it’s not... it’s not possible anymore is it? So... please, please... his sister and I agree, if I have to sign something” he finds himself saying, his words a river in flood. “Let me sign, he... Evan would like to save lives, donate organs. If they are still good, if it is still possible”.

The doctor looks at him with wide eyes and seems to be evaluating his mental state. “No... it’s not possible to donate organs, Eddie,”.

And the world collapses on him. He didn’t get there on time. He also failed to honour Evan. Damn it! He just wanted to be an hero, Evan just wanted to save people, one last time, with all he had. “I’d like to see him then. Please I... I have to see him before you put it in the morgue and...”.

“Morgue? But Nurse Josie, what did she tell you?” the doctor babbles, his wrinkles that seem thinner now, less hollowed out, and when he smiles, it’s a smile that doesn’t have that scary taste of pity.

Eddie stops and looks at this old man’s calm face and then moves to look for the nurse who is no longer there. “He collapsed, didn’t he? He can’t go on like this, if he’s got worse, we are ready, we throw in the towel, we give up, we let him go. And I’m sure some organs will still be good,” he continues to say, and his breath shortens in the back of his throat and feels his heart racing and echo in his chest.

And the doctor approaches him and places a hand on his shoulder. “Eddie, breathe. Slow down, please. You definitely can collapse, now” he mumbles, smiling softly. “You should have got Madeline come here with you,” he says gently. “Would you like to sit down for a moment? So you can catch a breath”.

“I have to see him,” Eddie manages to say.

“And you will see it, sure, but now I have to talk to you because I have to tell you things and I have to explain them well and you must not be panicking, it will not do anyone any good if you panic” the doctor adds, with a kind tone and makes him approach a bench in the medication room, the one usually used to put shoe covers on.

“I saw that... I saw that they took his things out of the room. I saw that they have... a box of his things…” Eddie says shaking his head and closing his eyes.

“Eddie sit down,” he says, and Eddie executes the order like the good soldier he was in another life, in another before, before Buck, and only then does the doctor sit in front of him. “Breathe slowly, you can’t collapse, not now. I knew you didn’t want to follow the group therapies that are there to support families... but Madeline told me that you have your own therapist so... you all have your own therapist,” he adds.

“Has he collapsed? What have you done? Have you stabilized him? He... Evan doesn’t want to live on life support... we waited too long and I…” he mutters, standing up. “I must see him and you must... you really must─”.

“Okay you really have to listen to me” the doctor says stern, and Eddie just hushes, and lets his head drop.

The doctor waits for a moment, instructing him with calculated short breaths.

And when finally Eddie seems a bit more in control, he starts talking again. “He is breathing, Eddie. Independently. He breathes and opened his eyes. It wasn’t a collapse, he rejected the endotracheal tube,” he simply says. “It took us a while to do the first tranche of exams and tests, and he will have to do many more and a lot of therapy, physical and psychological, maybe a bit of logopaedic therapy, but... he breathes and is awake, not exactly alert, but he has opened his eyes and has is reacting good, really”.

“He breathes? Evan? Evan is… On his own?” Eddie repeats with a small voice and feels his knees give in, the adrenaline abandoning him completely, his breath breaks in his throat and it takes a moment for him to find his balance and remain standing straight, and he must reach out with his back the first wall available to support himself. “He breathes?”.

“Yes, we had noticed small reflexes, but in these cases, it is impossible to predict the chances of someone in a state of impaired consciousness improving. Some improve gradually, others stay in a state of impaired consciousness for years.” he begins to say .

Eddie looks at him incredulously. He must have hit his head, very hard, this is his first thought, or he is dreaming. “The other doctor said...”.

“I have my theory and I think Evan has heard of ending his life and is back to kick us in the ass, Eddie,” he replies, pursing his lips in an awkward smile.

“And he is awake, like now?” he asks slowly, he needs a lot more time to process all this informations.

“Recovering from coma is a gradual process, starting with the person opening eyes, and responding to pain and speech.” the doctor says, smiling softly “We are currently performing an MRI and a couple more exams. The length of a coma is the most accurate predictor of long-term symptoms. You know, right?” he adds with a murmur.

Eddie nods. “The longer the coma, the greater likelihood of residual symptoms” they repeated it like a mantra, so it’s like a mantra for Eddie and Maddie too. “You made it pretty clear”.

The doctor moves to grasp Eddie’s harm with his hand. “Glasgow scale 8, right now. He’s improving very fast. So we guess he wasn’t in that deep coma he seemed to be, the past few days at least. Or we could call it a miracle. Either way he is awake, now”.

“He is tough” Eddie says a little smirk on his lips, while his eyes are full of tears. “He is a survivor”.

“He surely is,” the doctor hums in agreement. “Okay, now, after the MRI they are going to move him in his new room, in our sub-intensive care unit. I’ll take you there, now”.

“Isn’t it a bit early, moving him around like that? In another unit, he could...” he starts to say, but then the doctor looks at him with this confident face.

“Eddie he is awake, very grumpy but, awake and breathing, and as his recovery proceeds like this, he’ll be up and kicking our ass in a blink of an eye. He can’t talk right now, due to the intubation, but he opens his eyes in response to voice, withdraws from painful stimuli. He can’t lift his hands as much as we hoped right now but does pull away when he is pinched. That makes him very grumpy, so I suggest you not to do it…” he adds. “And we are keeping an eye on him there, like a very close eye. I guess doctor Green wants to write an article about his miraculous recovery so, there are going to be at least three nurses and a lot of residents and interns around him monitoring him. And I guess he’ll get even grumpier”.

Eddie seems to be quite content with this answer. “Can I see him?”.

The doctor smiles softly. “Yeah, you may be a good support, as I said…”.

“He is a very cranky patient.” Eddie nods, his legs now tremble for the wait, for the excitement. He’s going to see him. No matter how big and scary his residual symptoms are, he is going to see him. He has more time, he has more time to live with him.

 The doctor slowly accompanies him down the corridor, towards what they call a sub-intensive care unit.

Here the walls are brighter, the usual straw yellow but it seems freshly painted, and here and there is stained by large splashes of colour which are perhaps stylized flowers. But Eddie’s heart is in his throat and this time he doesn’t want to focus on the details. He doesn’t even read the room number, and he’ll have to do it later, when he calls Christopher and Maddie, because he’ll have to bring them back here, he’ll have to bring them to him.

There are doctors around the bed, and there is an almost sacred silence again. The heart monitor still marks time in its own way. But then he hears it, that sound, a sound strangled like a moan, and then a half-voiced, distressed rumbling.

“You will have to help him drink with a teaspoon, Evan has been extubated for about three hours now, and can’t ingest large quantities of water, but it could give him some relief.” he hears the doctor say before he approaches the other doctors around the bed. And he begins to speak in a gentle tone to Evan and he hears him inciting him with an almost fatherly attitude. “There is a surprise for you here, now I bring him closer and you try to open your eyes, huh? Do you understand Evan?” he then says and gestures to Eddie to come closer.

And it takes a moment for Eddie to notice that his legs are moving on their own accord, towards the bed and the doctor leaves him the space to get closer, and entrusts Evan’s hand in his.

And he does not even have time to start talking that he sees those tiny movements of his eyes under the eyelids. And when they tighten, his heart swells in his chest, waiting, eager.

It takes Evan a moment, his fingers twitching in Eddie’s hand. But then he opens slowly, painfully his eyes. And it’s a bright blue, the one that looks out of the slits, of his half-open eyes. He blinks slowly and Eddie draws a choked breath between his teeth.

And his legs give way to him and if there wasn’t that chair nearby, he would be kneeling near the bed, his face on the mattress and his shoulders trembling with his sobs.

And now yes, now yes that sobs come scratching his throat, now yes that he can lose control.

He doesn’t even notice that the doctor begins to push away all those other doctors, who now move like white shadows in the periphery of his field of vision, while Eddie drinks that blue sea, and then moves his gaze when Evan just tightens his grip of him, weakly yet so dearly. And then he sees the nasal respirator that serves to give him the right supply of oxygen without being too invasive, now that he breathes alone, and chapped lips and that little smile.

“Hey” is all Eddie manages to say and his voice is like a whisper.

And Evan just closes his eyes and stretches his smile a little wider, and moves his hand away from Eddie’s hovering over his forearm until he grasps the lateral head of his left bicep, and it is as if he is asking Eddie to move closer. When he reopens his eyes are full of tears and he looks so tired.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m here and you’re here. And you’re... you’re alive, you’ve been so good, you are… oh fuck Evan you are so good!” he says and makes him a smile brighter. “You really are a fighter, I’m so proud of you. You are amazing, you are… so fucking good”.

Evan tightens his grip on his arm and mumbles something, the sound is hoarse and deaf, but he has always been so good at communicating without having to speak. And Eddie barely looks at the doctor, who is still there by the door as if asking for permission and when he nods as if to say go ahead, Eddie approaches and bends down just to rest a kiss on the corner of Buck’s mouth.

And as soon as he hears Evan moan, gasping a sound that seems almost a whimper, Eddie moves away. And with a not so fluid and almost heavy gesture as if his hand weighed, Evan brings his free hand at the base of his trachea.

“Yes, I know. I know, mi amor. Your throat is very irritated, your vocal cords are sore, but it will take a blink of an eye to start talking again, I know” Eddie nods with the voice so gentle that almost terrifies him, and moves to rest his lips on Buck’s forehead, to reduce the space that divides them.

Evan groans softly.

“You don’t need words with me, huh? You know?” he adds as he straightens up on his seat and brings Buck’s hand to his mouth, then, to kiss the knuckles and the fingertips and the palm softly.

And Evan moves slowly to brush Eddie’s cheek, to wipe away that fugitive tear that has escaped from the tear ducts. And he seems to frown for a moment before muttering something again. And it sounds like don’t cry to Eddie’s ears.

“They are tears of joy. You are awake, you are finally awake.” he explains, the words that roll up on his tongue and he wouldn’t even know how they sound to his ears, as he is busy looking at him, so busy finally feeling him living. “Don’t do it again, mh? You know that I can’t live without you anymore” he adds, holding Evan’s hand in that position, supporting it with his own and reducing more the space between their faces, so as to ease his awkward caress.

And Evan’s fingers tremble on his cheekbone.

And now Eddie looks at him better and even though his eyes are bright and a little wet with unshed tears, and this big soft smile sparkles on his lips, he seems so immensely tired and battered and pale and thin. The respirator in his nostrils must bother him enough because he occasionally wrinkles his nose and closes an eye when he runs his tongue over his chapped lips. But he smiles, and looks at him and his fingers are warm, and the way he clings to Eddie, the way he caresses him, it’s all so reassuring.

Eddie can’t help but look at him with such satisfaction, with such affection, with so much fondness and pride. He is alive. And he struggled all by himself to stay there. And surely as soon as he knows, as soon as they tell him how they were giving up on him, he will kick them and get pissed enough. And honestly Eddie can’t wait to hear him grumble, to see him pissed off, to have to make up with him and kissing him better.

“Hey, you scared us so much, but now you’re here and... you know your sister is looking forward to seeing you and... Christopher, Christopher wants to see you and...” he continues to say and the words escape his throat with a strange sound, his voice trembling.

And Evan curls his eyebrows, and swallows hard and tries to open his mouth, tries to let out some sound, but the only thing that comes out is still that little dull sound, that whimper that looks like a cry.

And Eddie rediscovers himself with tears in his eyes, with shortness of breath at the bottom of his throat, with his breath broken by ugly sobs, and he didn’t believe he had more tears, or that he could cry more. But this is joy, a strange joy that falls upon him transcendent, such a great relief, such satisfaction. And his heart almost hurts in his chest, as he bends down once more to kiss him slowly. And Evan curls his station shirt between his fingers, as if to mimic a kind of hug, as if holding him tightly.

“It’s all right, sorry. Sorry... I was losing hope... but you... you... you are formidable that’s what you are, you are incredible and… fuck” he manages to say, his lips still on his skin, again at that corner of his mouth and then sliding on his lips. “And you know I’m not good at talking... I...”.

And he hears him make a vaguely strangled but unmistakable sound. It’s his laugh, although it doesn’t seem like a laugh at the moment, but that’s definitely a chuckle, pleased and mocking.

Eddie pulls himself up and collects his face in his hands . “Argh, you laugh huh?”.

Evan closes his eyes with some satisfaction and curls his lips in one of his wry smiles.

“You make fun of me, you’re terrible!” Eddie grumbles and still has tears in his eyes but he laughs and it seems an eternity that didn’t happen, that he didn’t laugh. “I have to go tell your sister you’re awake, I have to tell Christopher!” he says, and he already knows that Christopher will want to see him, but maybe it’s not the time yet, maybe Evan is too tired, but he asks him anyway. “Do you want to see Christopher?”.

And Evan lights up and moves his head very slowly in a tiny assent.

“So I’ll go now, huh? I’ll be right back, stay awake, will you? Did you understand? Don’t try anything, no funny business, Evan. You know I’m old and my heart doesn’t hold up this time.” he mutters bending over to give him another little kiss on the edge of his forehead before entrusting him to the doctor.

The doctor just smiles at him, in such a paternal way. And Eddie must definitely learn his name, at some point, months have passed and he still can’t associate his face with a name.

But it has other priorities now, definitely other priorities. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to call Maddie, can I get her here? With our son, he... he... can our son come here? Or is it too early? Surely Buck, Evan would like it...”.

“He definitely can,” the doctor says, smiling. “We continue with the last battery tests for now. And then I talk to the nurses, I guess you will stay here to keep him company in the next evenings,”.

Eddie nods vigorously, his eyes burning at the mere idea of ​​having more time, more time to live with him. Time.

Before going, he takes another look at the bed. Evan still has his eyes open and still seems focused on him, and slowly waves his fingers as if to greet him. And Eddie feels the tears rise in his eyes as he waves back, what he does with Christopher, repeatedly closing his fingers of his right hand, before jumping into the corridor.

He repeats the road by heart and gradually his breath becomes shorter. He still has to carburate, he still has to understand, he still has to actually assimilate that information.

And every step he thinks and rethinks, that they were giving up on him, that they were letting him go, that they were throwing in the towel. And Evan who is so stubborn, tenacious, a fighter and has some pretty hard bark on him, has surprised them once again.

And his heart becomes small in his chest.

He wipes his tears again, which seem to not want to stop gushing, before reaching the waiting room.

“Eddie!” Maddie still has Christopher in her arms, and his son is still clutching the book to his chest.

“Hey!” he mumbles, sniffing, but smiling. And he bends down to reach for Christopher, without doing much if not spreading his arms and waiting for his kid to hug him.

“The others are coming soon, I also called your abuela and Josephina, and Carla... I don’t know how we want to organize this and...” Maddie starts to say.

Eddie holds Christopher tight against him and then reaches out to hug Maddie. “He hasn’t collapsed. It wasn’t a collapse. It scared us a lot but...” Eddie murmurs.

Maddie shakes her head. “Eddie he...”.

“He woke up, Maddie. He woke up... it wasn’t a collapse he just started breathing on his own... he is awake. A little confused and battered... and he doesn’t speak but... he moves, he is awake and opens his eyes and he recognized me and..." he continues to say and looks at Christopher who has not made a sound.

“Like Captain America,” Christopher murmurs with his eyes big and sparkly. “Can I see him?”.

“Of course, when I told him I was going to pick you up he was so happy!” he says and caresses his son’s face and takes the crutches with one arm but leaves everything else there, the rest of his gear, all there on that armchair in a waiting room.

And she hears Maddie sobbing.

“Come on, huh? We warn the others afterwards, he is having a bit of a hard time staying awake and... he is all grumpy...” Eddie continues to say.

And Maddie reaches out to take Christopher’s crutches and retrieves her bag and says nothing but wipe away the tears.

“Buck is always cranky when he’s sick,” says Chris, tightening his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Oh, yeah, it’s true,” Maddie scoffs and sobs altogether, doing to retrieve Eddie’s things.

“Come on, don’t think about it, I don’t care about that stuff, we have other priorities." he says and stretches out to her his free hand.

And they set off down the corridor, all the energy he seemed to have lost is in every fibre of him again, now that he is rushing towards Evan’s new room.

.

Eddie stops a few steps from what he remembers to be Buck’s room, there is still that cloud of doctors who are in there to visit him.

“So he can’t really speak now, he does some sounds but…” he says to Christopher, but he says so for himself  to remember. “It’s like when we have a sore throat and we make those weird sounds... he does something like that” he mutters. “But he understands everything, I told you he heard us, when we talked to him, do you remember it?” he waits for his son to nod before continuing, with a small fond smile. “I’m sure he heard you read and can’t wait to hear how the book ends”.

“Can I read it to him when─when he gets better?” Christopher asks, his eyes sparkling and a bright little smirk curving his lips.

“Sure! You can read this and many others to him, he knows that you have become super good at reading aloud!” adds Eddie and glances at Maddie.

And she takes another choked breath between her teeth. “Eddie I…”.

“Let’s not talk about it now.” he replies categorically. “Let’s go in. Then we organize the shifts, as always”.

And when they enter Buck is busy pushing this doctor’s hand with one foot, his bad leg flexed in this unnatural way and he seems really stressed by this situation, his tongue between his gritted teeth and his expression contracted. He grunts what appears to be a feeble smear and then relaxes completely in bed.

“Enough,” decides the doctor. “Enough for now, let’s continue later. There are visits for you.” he mumbles and gestures to the other doctors to go out, and moves near Eddie and Maddie “I spoke with the nurses, and we moved his things here, I’m sure we can paper the room with all the drawings of this young man, mh?” he adds, reaching out to caress Christopher’s back. “Don’t tire him, huh?” it’s his last recommendation before going out.

And Maddie hurries to release Eddie’s hand and reach for the bed. Leaving her bag and Chris’s crutches on near the box with his things, placed on a tiny table. “Hi!” she says, slowly, the breath that is louder than her voice and reaches out to gather Evan’s face and he seems so small, so thin now that Eddie looks at him with his eyes always veiled by an emotion, a great unnamed sentiment.

There are strangled sounds, those of Evan’s throat all parched and battered by the endotracheal tube.

Maddie sits on the bed and takes his hand and when he squeezes her slowly, and closes his eyes and smiles, a sob escapes her lips.

“He made us a surprise, right Maddie?” Eddie mumbles, deciding to stay there a moment longer and give the two of them that extra minute, that moment of intimacy.

But she looks up and reaches out to Eddie, and gestures for him to come closer. And when he enters Evan’s field of vision, Evan smiles and slowly extends his arm too.

“Bucky!” peeps Christopher.

“Hey now, slow okay? He is all battered, remember” Eddie warns softly, before bending over and placing her son on the bed.

And there was no need for that recommendation, because Chris slowly approaches his Bucky and reaches out only to gently caress his cheek. “It will be all right, kid.” he murmurs with a tiny fond smile.

And Buck gasps, and grasps Chris’s shirt to make him move closer and Christopher looks at Eddie with his wide, sparkling eyes, like asking for permission, as Eddie did with the doctor only a few minutes ago.

“Go ahead, kid” he says softly, and moves the chair to take a seat near the bed and support Christopher and hold Evan’s shoulder in his grasp.

So his son moves to snuggle in his Bucky side, leaning close but slowly, like Evan could break under his touch.

And Evan smiles, softly when all the three of them are around him touching him and he slowly closes his eyes.

“It will be all right,” Christopher reiterates looking at Eddie and Maddie with this big smile. “I told you daddy, that Buck is like Captain America”.

And Buck makes that sound again, what Eddie has understood by now that it’s a chuckle and he laughs too. “Oh you’re right, mijo. You always are, he’s a superhero”.

.

.

As always, stay safe and take care of you!