Chapter Text
When Eddie got the information for the intensive outpatient program he would be attending, to say he was intimidated was an understatement. The clinic was just about ten minutes south of the house, but he had to be there four days a week from 9 to 12:30 each day. Monday and Wednesday would be individual therapy and then a peer support group, Tuesday was a therapy group, and another individual session followed by family therapy on Friday. He only had to bring Christopher for that one, but he had a feeling that one session with his therapist would have them gently suggesting he bring Buck as well. The only problem with that was, well –
He was still a little angry with Buck.
He knew that he had a good reason for not telling him. But he was already feeling vulnerable, like everyone could see his mangled heart beating in his broken chest. To know that Buck didn’t tell him because he was afraid of how he’d react, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, made the helpless ache dig ever deeper.
He can’t lie and say he didn’t understand though. He’s fairly certain he would have done the same thing had he been in Buck’s position.
But still.
In any case, Buck had to drive him to his first day of the IOP program. They weren’t sure how Eddie would be at the end of it, so they didn’t want to risk him having to drive back. If he’s being honest, Eddie wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to drive at all. The intrusive thoughts he was experiencing -had been experiencing for a while- were not limited to the pills. There have been many times when he was driving that his brain provided the absolutely lovely thought of ‘I could turn into oncoming traffic on the freeway and it would probably kill me’.
So, yeah. He didn’t really feel like driving was a good choice.
The trip was uncomfortable. Or maybe just tense. He could never feel uncomfortable with Buck, but the tension of the unspoken (and spoken) words between them hung heavy in the air. Eddie wiped his hands down his jeans, whisking away the sweat that had gathered on his palms, as Buck spoke.
“I need to get you at 12:30, right?”
Eddie turned to Buck. He was staring ahead, his expression shuttered as he gazed out the windshield. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting under his chin, his elbow against the door. Eddie hadn’t seen him this closed off in a long time.
“Uhm. Yeah.” He nodded, turning to face forward again. He sat in the silence for another moment before he spoke, “look, Buck-”
“We’re here,” Buck cut him off, pulling the jeep into a streetside spot and putting it in park. He kept his hand on the gearshift, his jaw tensing before he turned to look at Eddie for the first time since they left the house.
“Do you need me to come in with you?” His gaze was soft; the softest Eddie’s seen it since their fight. He shook his head.
“No, I’ll be okay.” He unbuckled and grabbed the door handle, “thanks.”
A minute later, Buck was pulling away from the curb and Eddie was standing on the sidewalk feeling a little bit like he’d been left behind.
He tried to shake it off as he made his way inside the stark black building. The lobby was small and inviting, warm blues and greens punctuating the room. The walls, while painted white, were decorated with different calming photos, like a warm sunset or a peaceful meadow. There was a pair of plush-looking armchairs and some tables with magazines and plants. Under his feet was a well-worn rug with an ornamental pattern that looked like it had been there since the clinic was opened. He had to admit though, as he approached the front desk that sat under warm overhead lamps, that he felt welcomed.
“Hi,” he spoke to the woman sitting behind the computer, who looked up at him as he approached, “I’m here for the uh, the IOP program?”
“Hi!” She smiled, warm and bright. It felt genuine; not pleasantly forced like many others he’d come across since beginning treatment. “Just sign in on this iPad here and I’ll get you back in just a sec.”
She handed Eddie a tablet and gestured to one of the armchairs. He gave a nod and headed over to sit down and begin filling out the form on the screen. Over the next few minutes, more people trickled in. They approached the desk and received iPads of their own, instructed to wait like Eddie was. Eventually, there were about ten people in the waiting room before a man about Eddie’s age appeared from a doorway behind the counter.
“Mr. Diaz?”
Eddie raised his head, meeting the stranger’s eyes and giving a brief nod before looking away. The walk to the therapy room was short, just a few steps past the door the man had appeared from. Before long, Eddie was seated comfortably on a worn gray couch waiting for his therapist to start talking.
“Thanks for being here Eddie,” he smiled at him, crossing one leg over the other and resting his forearms on his thighs. The man was attractive, Eddie noted. He had wavy, salt and pepper hair that wove down the back of his head and stopped just below his chin. It was lightly gelled, just barely holding the waves in place. He had green eyes and a striking smile. In another universe, where he wasn’t repressed his whole life and ended up attempting suicide in his thirties, he probably would have pursued him.
“My name’s Dr. Thom Baines, but just call me Thom,” he continued, “I’ve read over your file, and I understand a lot has happened over the last few years, and especially the last few weeks.”
“That’s an understatement,” Eddie huffed out a laugh, picking at his jeans. “A lot has definitely happened.”
“I’d like to hear about it in your words,” Thom spoke softly, in a way that made Eddie feel like he actually cared and not that he was just there to get paid. “I can only glean so much from notes, you know?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the lump that had risen in his throat, “well uh, I attempted suicide a few weeks ago and I just got out of inpatient treatment.”
He paused, taking in a shaky breath. He hadn’t said the words out loud more than once or twice. Everyone at inpatient knew after the first few group sessions, so he’d never had to repeat his story.
“I guess I’ve been dealing with depression and PTSD for a while,” he shrugged. He still wouldn’t meet Thom’s eye. “I’ve had a lot of traumatic things happen to me.”
“I don’t expect you to tell me all those things,” Thom assured him, “I know some of it, of course, but also you don’t know me. I don’t expect you to just spill your guts to me.”
“Yeah, that’s good, that’s uh,” Eddie stammered, finally looking up, “yeah. Thanks.”
“What about your support system?” Thom changed topics, one which Eddie is always happy to talk about. He grinned as he began telling him about Christopher and Buck, and the 118, and his family. All the people who had been supportive and helped him through all the horrible things that had happened in the past.
“You’ve mentioned Buck a lot,” Thom pointed out, not-quite-casually, “is he a friend?”
“Uh,” Eddie eloquently replied, “not really? I mean, yes, but… It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, looking anywhere but Thom’s face, “he’s my best friend, and my partner at work, and he sometimes feels like my soulmate even though I don’t believe in that stuff.”
Thom could only smile softly, a knowing look crossing his face before he coughed and looked down at his hands in his lap.
“So, you’d say you’re pretty close to him?”
“I’m closer to him than anyone, I think.” Even Eddie was surprised by the truth behind his words. He was close to his son, of course, but not in the way he was with Buck. He couldn’t share the deepest parts of himself with Chris, or with anyone else. “He’s everything to me.”
“So, he’ll be there for the family therapy sessions on Friday then?”
Eddie smiled, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, “he’ll be there.”
When Eddie agreed to go to lunch with Linda, he hadn’t really considered the fact that it had been over a month since he’d been out of the house or the clinic. He hadn’t considered it because he hadn’t known that the time he’d spent couped up indoors, away from most other people, would make his threshold for things like restaurants and strangers and noise so much lower.
Linda had picked him up around noon, sending him a text from the driveway. Buck was at work and Chris was at school, so Eddie was endlessly grateful for Linda’s company. He and Buck had talked a little bit since his first day at IOP on Monday, but they still hadn’t fully cleared the air. There was still this level of tension between them that left Eddie feeling unsteady. So going out with Linda was a welcomed retreat from the empty house.
It was the first time he would be seeing her since before…everything. He had texted her here and there, even had a phone call one evening after he got home about a recipe he was working through, but actually seeing her was a reprieve from the monotony his life had become.
“Eddie, am I glad to see you.” She smiled brightly from the driver’s seat of her SUV, reaching over to grab Eddie’s hand once he’d settled in and giving it a squeeze. “You look good!”
Eddie snorted, but a smile played at his lips, “thanks Linda, so do you.”
“So, the link I sent you about the restaurant,” she put her hands back on the wheel and began backing out of the driveway, “how does everything look? Does it sound good?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, fiddling with his phone in his lap, “the food looks great.”
Honestly, he was nervous. Having just been around the few select people while in treatment, and then home with Buck and Chris for the last week, had gotten him used to the calm and quiet. He wasn’t sure how it was going to be at a loud, crowded restaurant.
After the shooting the previous year, he had developed a bit of agoraphobia. The first time he left the house after getting out of the hospital, he had a panic attack in the middle of the grocery store after someone dropped a box a little too harshly. Buck had talked him down and taken him back out to the jeep, abandoning their shopping cart in the middle of the aisle. That happened a few more times before he’d been able to work through it. Now, the outside world just felt so oppressive and chaotic, and there was this layer of guilt over him that he couldn’t shake – as if everyone who looked at him would know that he was crazy and had tried to kill himself. Who knew, maybe they did. Maybe he was branded for life now with an unmistakable look in his eye that said, ‘I attempted suicide’, and he would be faced with either pity or disgust everywhere he went.
“Eddie?” He inhaled sharply, looking over at Linda. She had a cautious look on her face, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she watched him. “You okay? We’re here.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He shook his head and sent her a wobbly smile, “just lost in my thoughts.”
As they walked inside the small restaurant, Eddie immediately knew it was going to be a problem. The photos online made it look a lot bigger than it actually was. In reality, barely three tables fit from one side of the space to the other and nearly every last one was full. It was like Eddie could hear every conversation that was happening around them, the cacophony of voices pelting him from all sides making his skin prickle with anxiety. On top of that, the scent of the food cooking that wafted over them completely overwhelmed his senses, making his head spin.
He tried to focus on Linda, who led them toward the host stand a few feet from the entrance. He watched her exchange words with the person behind the counter but he couldn’t make them out, the buzzing in his ears and his pounding heart were the only things he could hear.
The room, while small, was pretty airy. The ceilings were lofted, with bright windows up and down the side wall casting a warm glow across the patrons from the afternoon sun. Despite this, Eddie’s throat began closing and each inhale shuddered as the air passed his nostrils. All the while, sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead and he felt an unsteady shakiness down to his bones. He knew all the tell-tale signs of a panic attack, and he was quickly approaching one.
“Eddie?” For the second time, he was drawn out of his thoughts by Linda. This time, he was only barely aware of her presence, but the familiar voice was enough for him to glance up at her. “Are you alright?”
He realized then that he hadn’t moved from the host stand. Linda and the worker were a few paces ahead of him, heading for one of the few empty tables, but he was stuck, rooted to the spot. All he could do was give a short shake of his head, meeting Linda’s gaze for a mere second before looking back down at the ground and his shaking hands. He couldn’t even go out to eat without messing things up.
He caught a glance of the worker’s face as Linda seemed to explain something to them quickly before rushing back to Eddie’s side. He saw the pity in their eyes, the look of hollow sympathy. “That poor man,” they probably thought, “I wonder why he’s so fucked up?”
Before he knew it, Linda’s arm was around his back and she was gently ushering him back outside. The warm air from LA’s August sun hit his face and instantly comforted him as they crossed the threshold. He already could feel his heart rate slowing down in his chest, but he didn’t move from Linda’s embrace until they reached the car, where he leaned against the door and let out a sigh.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his shaking hands covering his face. “I-I don’t know what happened.”
“Eddie, it’s okay.” She shook her head, dismissing any other apology he may try and give. “You have no reason to be sorry.”
She reached beside him and pulled open the passenger door, simply motioning for him to get in. He gave her a small, apologetic smile and climbed into the seat, leaning his head against the headrest while Linda made her way around to the driver’s side. He kept his gaze forward while she got in, humming in agreement when she suggested the radio. After she didn’t seem to make any move to leave, Eddie finally looked over at her.
“What?”
“It’s okay to not be ready.” Her reassurance was nice. It actually did help Eddie feel a little better. But he still could feel the roil of shame in his gut that left a sick, coppery taste in his mouth.
“I know,” Eddie nodded, his head heavy with even that tiny movement, “I know that, I just don’t think I really believe it.”
“Well, I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”
Eddie could only nod, the shame weighing heavy in his gut. He just wanted to go home, curl up under his blankets, and never come out again. For now, all he could do was slump in his seat and fold his arms across his chest. Would it always be like this? Would he always struggle to be around other people, feeling guilty and ashamed for a transgression that everyone swears wasn’t his fault even though he was the one who put the damn pills in his mouth?
“What are you thinking about over there in that head of yours?”
Eddie looked over, realizing that they were moving now and heading down Sunset.
“Nothing.” He shrugged, his crossed arms tightening across his chest. “Where are we going? My house is the other way.”
“I know,” she smiled, “I’m not taking you home.”
“Linda, I don’t think I can-”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t take you anywhere you wouldn’t be okay with.”
Eddie knew she was right. He knew she wouldn’t try and push him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. But the anxiety was still thrumming under his skin and the idea of doing anything felt more than overwhelming. He trusted her though, so he lowered his arms and tried to relax as some soft pop song wafted through the speakers.
A few minutes later, Linda flicked on her turn signal and Eddie looked over to see that they were turning into a McDonald’s. A tiny hint of a grin spread across his face as he looked over at her.
“How does a drive-through and parking lot lunch sound?” She smiled, turning to meet his gaze. “Just us, hanging out like the old days.”
“I think that sounds great.”
So, twenty minutes later, he was halfway through his quarter pounder with cheese while he and Linda laughed together under the shade of a palm tree. They were still sat in her SUV, but they’d turned to face each other, drawing their legs up to sit comfortably in the seats. Linda was tucking into her chicken nuggets while Eddie explained the Buck situation.
“I don’t know, I get why he didn’t tell me. But it still feels like…”
“Like he didn’t trust you?”
Eddie shrugged, taking another bite of his burger.
“Yeah. I guess so,” he spoke around the bite of food in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before speaking again, “and kind of like he thought less of me, but maybe I was projecting.”
“You think less of yourself?” Linda’s brows furrowed, a pained expression falling across her face. “You know that’s not true. You’re still the great man you’ve always been.”
Eddie shook his head, fingers toying with the wrapper in his hands. He may not have as much self-loathing for himself that he did near the beginning, but he knew that he definitely wasn’t as good a man as he may have been before. He made a really fucked up decision and he was fairly certain that nothing would ever be able to make him shake the shame of it. Not entirely.
“I mean-”
“No,” Linda interrupted him, dropping the nugget she was holding back into its container and reaching over to take Eddie’s hand not holding his burger. “You have a mental illness, and that choice you made was not made with a sound mind. And the fact that you’re here, now, alive? That makes you one hell of a guy.”
He didn’t believe her, but he was a little closer than he maybe once was.
Buck got home from his shift the next day around nine in the morning. Chris was already packed off to school and Eddie was sat in the kitchen, Buck’s hospital bill in his hand. He kept rereading the words, the pit in his stomach going nowhere as the thought of Buck lying in the hospital alone with a head injury replayed in his mind. He was only brought out of his thoughts by the kitchen door creaking open and Buck poking his head in between the door and refrigerator.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
He looked back at the letter in his hand. He was no longer exactly reading it so much as staring at the paper and seeing the letters blur together. Buck took a few steps past the threshold, placing his hands on the back of the chair across from Eddie. The room was silent except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional click of the pilot light. The gentle softness of the morning could have been nice if the tension between them wasn’t suffocating.
“How are you feeling?”
“Don’t do that, Buck,” Eddie shot back, still not tearing his eyes away from the damn bill. “Don’t try to act casual when we’ve barely said anything to each other for the past week.”
“Eddie-”
“No, because I get why you didn’t tell me, okay? I get it. I understand that you didn’t want to worry me. But goddamn it Buck…”
His sentence trailed off, the silence stretching between them. He had worked himself up, his breath coming in short pants as the paper crumpled in his hand. He dropped it to the table and finally looked up to meet Buck’s eyes.
“Everyone has been treating me like I’m fragile. Like I’m gonna break,” he shook his head, “and hell, maybe I will. But I can’t take it if you treat me differently too. Not you. Please.”
Buck released his hold on the chair and instead placed his hands on his hips, turning to face the backdoor. His entire body was one long line of tension, from the cords of muscle in his neck to his firmly planted feet. He inhaled shakily before he spoke.
“What do you want, Eddie?” His voice was even, if a little wobbly; like it was taking everything in him not to start yelling or crying. Maybe both. He kept his eyes planted on the door, noticeably avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “Do you want me to tell you that I have never been more scared in my life? That I saw you, blue in the face, and I thought for sure you were dead?”
“Yes!” Eddie rose from his seat, rounding the table to stand in front of Buck and force him to look at him, to see him. “Tell me the truth, Buck.”
“The truth?” Buck laughed, almost hysterically. His eyes, open wide, shined with unshed tears as he crossed his arms over his chest. The protective stance he took almost hurt Eddie to see.
“Yes, the truth,” Eddie countered, not standing down from whatever the confrontation was going to be. They needed this; he knew that if nothing else. “Shit, Buck, I know you’re mad! Tell me you’re mad!”
“Yes! I’m mad, I’m furious!” Buck’s arms flung out to his sides before he ran his hands down his face and spun on his heel to turn away from Eddie. He slammed his hands down on the tabletop, staring at its surface for a long moment before speaking again. “I’m angry that you tried to kill yourself, and I’m really fucking angry that it almost worked.”
Tears gathered in Eddie’s eyes as he watched Buck finally breakdown. He knew that he wasn’t actually angry toward him, that he needed to get this out, but it didn’t make it easier to see. He watched him, watched his fingertips go white with the pressure of pushing into the table and his shoulders hunching up from leaning over. He worked his jaw a few times before standing to full height and looking at Eddie.
“I’m furious with myself that I let it happen, even though everyone says it wasn’t my fault,” he continued, a little calmer this time, but no less forceful, “I hate myself a little bit for leaving you at that inpatient clinic even though you needed it,” he paused, for just a beat, “but I’m not angry with you. I could never be angry with you.”
“I know.” Eddie stepped toward him, reaching out a hesitant hand.
“Your face… when I found you. God, Eddie-” Buck’s breath hitched but he held on, choking back the sob that surely rested at the back of his throat.
“I know, Buck.” His voice was impossibly soft as he closed the distance between them, bringing his hands up to frame Buck’s face. “Evan. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“Eddie.” His voice trembled, like there was one single thread of composure left keeping him standing, keeping him together. A tear escaped his eye and Eddie immediately swiped it away with his thumb. He let the pad of the digit linger on Buck’s eyelid before he leaned up the scant couple of inches he needed to press a gentle kiss to the birthmark on his brow.
“Evan,” he repeated, letting his forehead rest against Buck’s. The air mingled between them, Eddie’s calm, even breaths and Buck’s hiccupping gasps. “I love you. I know. I love you.”
And finally –
He broke.
His legs crumbled beneath him, and Eddie caught him, like he always does.
And Buck let him, like he always does.
They sank to the floor, Eddie’s back to the cabinets while Buck fell into his arms. Their legs met in a tangled mess beneath them. Buck cried, sobbing into Eddie’s shoulder with a vice-like grip on his shirt, the fabric twisting in his fingers. He held on like he’d float away, or maybe drown. Like Eddie was his last lifeline left.
“I got you,” Eddie spoke into his hair, planting barely-there kisses into the messy curls, “you’re gonna be okay, I got you. We’re gonna be alright.”
Eddie rested his mouth to the top of Buck’s head, his arms wrapped around him tightly. He let his eyes shut as he hummed softly, gently swaying their bodies together as they sat there on the cold tile. The mindless melody he was humming got lost in Buck’s curls and overpowered by his crying, hitching sobs breaking past his lips. The broken, cracked sound of Buck’s pain filled the small space and invaded Eddie’s every pore. He couldn’t help but feel an overpowering guilt at the mere sound, let alone the feeling of Buck trembling in his hold and the damp tears soaking his t-shirt. When it came down to it, this was his fault.
He knew that he was ill, and he had begun to accept that he couldn’t help the hold that depression had on him. He couldn’t help how easily it seeped into his veins and took over his rational thought, filling him with a hopelessness so profound he felt the only option was to leave.
But it was his hand that held that bottle, and it was his hand that funneled the pills into his mouth. He would always feel a little bit of shame for that, and a lot of regret.
Eddie didn’t know how long they sat there, but the sun had reached a peak in the sky that sent light pouring into the backdoor in the way that it does in the late morning. He watched swirls of dust dance in the rays peeking through the parted curtains, never quite settling, as Buck’s cries waned to a few hiccups and stuttering breaths. Eddie ran his hand up Buck’s back to drag his fingers through the mop of messy hair, leaving his hand threaded through the curls in the back.
“Let’s go to the living room.” His words were whispered but they still sounded loud in the stillness of the room. “My ass is asleep, and I think I’m a little too old to spend this long on the floor.”
A tiny snort escaped Buck’s nose, which Eddie took as a win, as they slowly untangled themselves and rose from the ground. Even though Eddie no longer held him, Buck still kept a tight grip on his hand as they made their way to the living room. They settled into the couch, with Eddie taking up residence in the corner, his back against the armrest, while Buck settled against his side. They sat there in the quiet, not speaking but enveloping each other in their calming presence. After a while, Buck finally spoke up.
“I love you too, you know.”
“I know.”
Eddie turned his head and planted a kiss on Buck’s forehead, letting his lips linger against his cool skin. Buck craned his neck to look at him before turning his body so he could face Eddie properly. He brought one hand up to the side of his face and the other around the back of his head to rest on his neck. Eddie watched as Buck seemed to contemplate his next move, his eyes going from Eddie’s own, down to his mouth, and back up again.
“Kiss me, Buck.” He whispered, his heart hammering in his chest. This time, it wasn’t anxiety, or fear – it was joy. For the first time in so long, it was like he could look to the future and not feel an overwhelming sense of dread.
“Are you sure?” Buck held on to Eddie with gentle hands, like he was precious, “I don’t want-”
“I am so sure,” Eddie cut him off, a grin breaking out on his heated face, “kiss me.”
So, he did.
His lips met Eddie’s with a tenderness that he was pretty sure he’d never experienced before. His mouth fit against his like the last piece of a very difficult and tedious puzzle that hurt like hell to put together but was also the best thing Eddie ever did.
Not taking those pills. Not lying in bed in the middle of the night spiraling, believing Christopher would be better without off him. Not sitting in the hospital wishing he hadn’t sent that text so that Buck, who was sitting beside him holding his hand, wouldn’t have saved him.
No, the best thing Eddie ever did was fall in love with Evan Buckley.
“What?” Buck’s voice was light and airy, a huff of laughter escaping his mouth as he pulled away. “You’re smiling.”
“Yeah,” Eddie smiled wider, feeling his cheeks pull with it, “thinking about you.”
“Oh really?” Buck leaned his head back down, kissing him hard enough to send him back into the cushions of the couch, “I would hope you’re thinking about me while kissing me.”
“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled against his lips, barely pausing their kiss. Before long, they were nearly horizontal on the couch, Buck sprawled on top of Eddie with his arms cradling his head. They traded lazy kisses that were barely kisses thanks to the grins that didn’t leave their faces. Eventually, they gave up and settled on cuddling, their legs tangled together while Buck tucked his face into Eddie’s neck.
“I’m happy, Buck,” Eddie whispered, his arms tightening around Buck’s back. “I know it’s not some permanent thing, that I still have to work on stuff, but I actually feel happy right now.”
“You have no idea what that means to hear you say that,” Buck’s breathy reply tickled Eddie’s neck, “I’m so proud of you.”
Eddie hummed, his eyes sliding shut as the warmth of Buck’s body lulled him toward sleep. Their confrontation earlier paired with the adrenaline from their first kiss was enough to drain him, not to mention the intense therapy he was going through. So before long, he found himself drifting off with a contentment he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
The next day was Friday, which meant family therapy day at the intensive outpatient program. Eddie, Chris, and Buck were sat in the same calm waiting room that Eddie had been in three days that week. Their session time wasn’t until 10AM, and they’d gotten there a bit early thanks to the anxiety that was churning in Eddie’s gut.
“Eds, it’ll be okay.” Buck squeezed Eddie’s hand, bumping their shoulders together, “you already said you like your therapist, and there’s nothing we’ll talk about that we don’t already know, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, “I know, it’s just…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting to Chris. He was sat next to Buck, his face buried in his phone while he waited. Eddie had spoken to him the night before and he’d said he was actually excited to go. Over the last few weeks, he’d maintained that he was doing okay, that he understood that his dad was going through stuff that took a lot of help to heal. But it didn’t escape Eddie’s notice that Chris had been quieter, a little more reserved.
“I know.” Buck seemed to catch on, pulling Eddie’s hand up to place a kiss to the back, “but we’re here and we’re together. That’s what matters.”
Before Eddie could respond, Dr. Baines stepped into the waiting room and greeted them before motioning them back toward the office. The trio stood and followed him to a room that was much larger than the tiny office Eddie had been in for his individual sessions. This one held two couches, a beanbag chair, soft lighting, and about fifteen different plants.
“Welcome guys,” Dr. Baines sat in a rolling desk chair that had been tucked in the corner, a small notebook in his lap. “I’m going to assume this is Christopher-” he motioned to Chris “-and Evan?” He brought his hand over to Buck, who nodded.
“Yeah, uhm, call me Buck.” He smiled politely, giving a nod. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Dr. Baines smiled back. He seemed so genuine; like when he entered the room with you, you were the only person he cared about. As if you were the only client he saw. “I’ve been working with Eddie this week and I gotta say, you two have got quite a partner and dad here.”
Eddie’s cheeks flushed, surely bright red in the soft lighting of the office. It went without saying that he was never one for compliments. He never knew how to accept them gracefully. It always felt like he bumbled over some awkward thanks, looking hopeless and socially inept.
“I think he’s pretty great,” Buck said softly, looking over at Eddie with just about the fondest grin he’d ever seen. Eddie could only shake his head and take Buck’s hand in his and thread their fingers together. Christopher made a fake retching sound beside Eddie, and the room broke out in laughter while Chris smiled, obviously pleased to have done something funny.
“Okay,” Dr. Baines reigned them in with a chuckle, “so, I don’t necessarily want to dive right into heavy stuff. Why don’t you, Buck, tell me about how you and Eddie met?”
“Oh,” Buck brightened, as if he wasn’t expecting such an easy question. “Well, we met at work. I didn’t really like him at first.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah,” Buck smiled, “to be honest, I was just kind of jealous. And attracted to him.”
Eddie snorted, remembering young Buck from nearly five years ago and all his posturing.
“How’d you get over it?” Dr. Baines seemed genuinely interested. Eddie hadn’t really gone into any detail about how he and Buck had met or got together, more so how he was supportive now.
“Well, we had to remove a live grenade from a man’s leg,” Buck looked over at Eddie, meeting his gaze, “I don’t know, he impressed me. I was pretty done for by then.”
“I didn’t get to meet Buck until a couple weeks after that,” Christopher piped up, “but we became best friends pretty fast.”
Dr. Baines turned his attention over to him, smiling widely.
“You and Buck are best friends?”
“Pretty much,” Chris shrugged, “I mean, he’s pretty much like a dad now but we’ve always been really close.”
The smile that graced Buck’s face then could rival the sun on its brightest day. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Buck had become like another parent for Christopher at this point, but hearing the kid verbalize it was something else.
“I’m glad you’ve had each other,” Dr. Baines nodded, “your all’s relationship must have been especially important recently.”
And just like that, the lightness of the room was quashed. It was like ice water was poured over them as the doctor’s words sank it.
“Yeah.” Christopher was the first to talk, his chin dropped to his chest as he spoke. “It’s been kind of scary with dad sick, but Buck’s taken care of me.”
“What’s been the scariest part?”
“I don’t know,” Chris mused for a moment, “I guess that I’m scared he won’t get better. Or that he’ll get really bad again.”
Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat, throwing his arm around Christopher’s shoulder and pulling him in tightly. There were times now where his depression still got pretty bad, but he didn’t know how he’d ever thought that leaving Chris was the right thing to do.
“I’m so sorry, bud,” he choked out, his voice tight and laced with emotion. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”
“No,” Chris shook his head, turning in Eddie’s hold so he could face him, “no, me and Buck talked about it, he told me about depression. You’re sick, it’s not your fault.”
“God, kid,” Eddie shook his head and pulled Christopher back in, “what’d I do right to deserve a kid like you?”
“I don’t know, you got lucky I guess.” Chris grinned up at his dad, his wild hair falling over his eyes as his smile sent his glasses up the bridge of his nose. This brought about another round of laughter before Buck spoke this time.
“Being a father figure to Chris has been one of the greatest things I’ve done.” He glanced at Christopher behind Eddie’s head, “I’ll always be grateful to Eddie for letting me be in his life.”
“Buck stop,” Eddie laughed but ducked his head, pushing his elbow into Buck’s side. “It’s not like you made it hard. You just love him so much, so easily. How could I keep that from him?”
The two men shared a long look, the love and admiration between them palpable in the room. Dr. Baines gave them a moment before clearing his throat and drawing them out of their trance.
“Christopher, you said you’re scared your dad won’t get better,” he started, turning all his attention to Chris, “what does it feel like? That fear?”
Christopher seemed to really ponder this question. The room was quiet as he considered his response, the only sound coming from the air conditioning vent a few feet away gently rustling the leaves of an ivy plant.
“It kind of feels like,” Chris started, “like how it did when he was gone in the army. Like I knew he was okay, but I also knew he was in danger, so I was just kinda scared all the time.”
Eddie’s heart splintered in his chest, and he tightened the arm he still had thrown over Christopher’s shoulder. He was about to speak when his son continued.
“I’ve seen my dad have a panic attack before,” he spoke softly now, “and sometimes, if I think about stuff for too long, it almost feels like what his panic attacks look like.”
Another crack tore its way through Eddie’s chest as he listened to his son speak. He hadn’t known Chris was having panic attacks, and surely Buck would have told him if he had known. An ache ripped through him at the knowledge that his child was feeling even a fraction of the pain he himself had been through.
“What exactly does it feel like?” Dr. Baines pushed further, his entire body angled toward Christopher in an inquisitive nature, fully engaged.
“Well,” Christopher gave a small shrug, his words soft, “kinda like my heart is beating really fast and it’s hard to breathe. Oh, and like my thoughts are going too fast for me to keep up.”
“Yeah,” Eddie choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “That’s what my panic attacks feel like, bud.”
“Chris, why didn’t you tell us these were happening?” Buck spoke now, and he sounded absolutely wrecked. Eddie knew that guilt was probably bubbling up in Buck’s gut, harsh and acidic, because it was in his too. “We could have helped you.”
Chris merely shrugged again, lowering his head and fiddling with his phone in his hands. Eddie immediately saw this action for what it was – shame. And there was no way in hell he would let Christopher harbor the very emotion that had plagued him for his entire life.
He slid off the couch on to his knees, putting one hand on Christopher’s leg and the other on his cheek. He tilted his head up to meet his eyes to see them swimming with tears.
“Chris,” Eddie spoke with conviction, his voice firm and unwavering this time. “There is absolutely no reason to feel bad or ashamed.”
“He’s right, Christopher.” Dr. Baines assured him with a gentle smile. “You and your family have been through so much, it’s normal for there to be things you struggle with because of it.”
“I was having panic attacks because I had been through a lot of trauma,” Eddie nodded at Dr. Baines before turning back to Chris, “and I didn’t let myself heal from it for a very long time. I think it makes sense that you’d have panic attacks now, after everything that’s happened.”
“I just don’t want to make things harder for you all.” Christopher’s words were nearly a whisper and Eddie was pretty sure whatever duct tape he had keeping his heart together tore away and let the pieces crumble in his chest.
“Chris,” Buck scooted down the couch and turned so he could face him, “there’s nothing you could do to make things too hard for us. We love you so much and the only thing we care about is making sure you’re happy and healthy.”
Eddie couldn’t even verbalize an agreement. He could only perch himself back on the edge of the couch and draw both of his boys into a tight hug, Chris under his left arm and Buck under his right. They held each other firmly, a resolve to the embrace that settled something in Eddie. Of course, he knew on a conscious level that they were always going to be there for each other; that Buck and Christopher were the only sure things in his life. But sitting together in a beige therapy office, surrounded by plants and motivational posters, it was almost like he believed it.
Three weeks later, things were finally starting to feel normal again.
Eddie had continued his IOP program, faithfully attending his sessions and only missing one day due to a cold. He felt like he was healing. The nagging voice in the back of his head telling him he should have succeeded, he should have died, only came out on rare occasions instead of nearly every day. He hadn’t had a panic attack in two weeks, and he even had gone out to lunch with Linda and May a few times. Sometimes, when he’d lay in bed at night curled around Buck, clinging to him like an octopus, he wondered if he had died and was actually in some sort of hell, because surely he would wake up from this. Surely, he’d get to have this life he had only ever dreamed of, and then he’d wake up and realize it was all fake and a devil he never quite believed in would be waiting for him.
But then he would feel the softness of the sheets under his skin, the cool October breeze wafting through the window, the steady rise and fall of Buck’s chest under his hand – and he’d decide that if this was hell, then he could he live with it.
Now, a week into October and the day after his last session at the clinic, he and Buck were hosting their family for a small party to celebrate. Included on the guest list were Maddie, Pepa, Bobby, Athena, Chimney, Hen, Karen, May, Linda, Lucy, Ravi, and all the kids. It would be the largest gathering Eddie had been at since before the attempt, and he was nervous.
Okay, nervous was an understatement. He was pretty much terrified.
“Eds,” Buck stepped toward him across the kitchen, gentle pushing his back into the counter and boxing him in, placing his hands on the countertop behind him. “Everything is going to be fine, but the moment you feel like it’s too much, everyone leaves, okay?”
“I know.” Eddie inhaled slowly, counting to four seconds before he exhaled. “I know that, I just really want things to go well.”
They were in the kitchen getting things ready for the party. They would be barbecuing – or rather, Bobby would be barbecuing while Buck and Eddie provided the meat. Buck had been sitting at the table, running down their to-do list with a pen, marking off things they’d done, when he’d noticed Eddie had stopped moving. He’d been cutting the vegetables for the veggie tray when the sudden surge of panic had hit him, halting his movements, the knife in his hand poised over a bell pepper.
Now, Buck reached his hands up to rest them on Eddie’s cheeks, his right thumb sweeping over the tiny little mole under his eye that he loved to kiss. His eyes bore into Eddie’s, and if it were anyone else he would have looked away immediately. His skin would be crawling with anxiety under such scrutiny. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was Buck, and his gaze settled him in ways that made Eddie wonder if magic really was real.
“We’re so proud of you,” Buck whispered, leaning his forehead against Eddie’s, and letting his hands fall to his waist, “you should be proud of yourself.”
“I am,” Eddie stressed, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself fall into Buck’s embrace, “I just am also aware of my track record.”
Buck huffed a small laugh out his nose before tilting his head forward, capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss. They were dry and chapped thanks to his bad habit of biting them, but they slid against Buck’s all the same. Eddie brought his arms up to wrap around Buck’s shoulders, crossing them behind his neck as he deepened the kiss, licking his way into his partner’s mouth. Buck hummed before he pulled away, Eddie letting out a small whine at the loss of contact.
“I love you,” Buck smiled and lifted the hem of Eddie’s shirt, resting his hands on his bare hips. He wrapped his fingers around his waist and stroked his thumbs gently across the expanse of skin there before continuing. “And I know you’re gonna be great.”
Eddie leaned forward to kiss him again but was interrupted by Chris banging his way into the kitchen. His crutches hit the doorframe, and then the cabinet, before he even got fully into the room. Buck snorted, turning to watch their kid as he huffed and puffed, his hair a wild mess on his head and left crutch slipping down his arm because he wasn’t holding the handle.
“Chris, what’s going on man?” Christopher sighed and looked up at the two men, eyeing their stance and proximity before groaning.
“Could you stop being gross please?” The small grin playing at the corner of his mouth betrayed his apparent disgust. He looked around the kitchen, his eyes searching for something before they seemed to find it and he made his way to the backdoor where his backpack was hanging on the doorknob.
“I wanted to finish the book I was reading on my phone before I had to get ready,” he explained before Buck or Eddie could ask, “and then it died, and I couldn’t find my charger, and then I remembered it was in my bag, so…” He trailed off as he rummaged through his bag, letting out a triumphant yell as he produced the charger cord.
“Hey kid,” Eddie finally spoke up, halting Christopher’s walk back toward the door, “why don’t you help us get things ready?”
His shoulders slumped as he turned toward his dad, a disgruntled sigh leaving his mouth.
“Dad,” he groaned, “I’m reading Eragon and I’m at a really good part.”
“Eh, let him go Eds,” Buck turned back around to give a kiss to Eddie’s mark under his eye, “we can kiss some more without hearing him complain.”
“Ugh!”
Christopher screwed up his face in disgust at his parents’ actions and gave another sigh. Buck and Eddie just laughed as he then bound out of the room just as clumsily as he came in, shouting a “thanks Buck!” over his shoulder.
“So,” Eddie ran his fingers through Buck’s hair at the back of his head, his fingers tugging gently through the curls. He had been letting his hair grow the past few months and leaving the product out of it, to Eddie’s delight. He loved Buck’s curls for many reasons, one of them being that he and Chris looked even more alike when his hair was wild and unruly. Another one being that he can tug on it when-
Well.
“Let’s just cancel tonight,” Eddie continued, a smile tugging at his lips, “send Chris to a friend’s or something, spend the evening alone together.”
“Mmm,” Buck hummed, swaying forward on his feet to kiss him again, leaving his toes curling in his socks against the tile. “We could, but I think we should really give the party a try at least.”
Eddie sighed, giving Buck another quick peck on the lips before turning to continue cutting the vegetables.
“Okay,” he shrugged, “but when I’m too tired tonight to blow you, that’s on you.”
Buck barked out a laugh on his way to the fridge. He reached in and started pulling the hot dogs and hamburger meat out and setting them on the counter.
“Y’know, that’s okay, as long as you have fun tonight.”
Eddie paused his chopping, looking at Buck over his shoulder with unbearable fondness. He was smiling at the sink, washing his hands after handling the raw meat. He was humming under his breath as he washed diligently, scrubbing his fingernails into the palm of the opposite hand. His hair fell gently on to his forehead and his cheeks were dusted pink from the warmth of the kitchen. Eddie felt his stomach swoop at the sight; it was almost like he fell in love all over again every time he looked at Buck.
Goddamn, he was so lucky.
An hour later found him sitting at the dining room table with Linda, May, and Maddie while noises and scents floated around them. Denny and Chris were posted up at the coffee table on their Switches, Jee and the Wilson’s newest foster, Lea, were playing with blocks on the rug, and the food that Bobby was cooking was sending delicious wafts of barbeque into the open back door. The other adults were scattered throughout the house, with Back sitting on the couch talking to Ravi and Chimney. Every few minutes, he’d glance up at Eddie and check in, a small, questioning look on his face that would be satisfied by Eddie’s returning smile and nod.
“Do you know when you’ll wanna head back to work?” May brought his attention back to the table, and he let out a wry laugh.
“Uh, I don’t know,” he shrugged before taking a swig of his drink in front of him, “I have up to twelve months, so I’m not really thinking about it right now.”
“Yeah,” Maddie nodded, looking over at Jee as she happily played with the Duplos. A small smile passed over her face, “I waited a while after getting done with my IOP to go back.”
“Whatever your timeline is,” Linda cut in, reaching over the pat Eddie on the arm, “is perfectly fine. And we’re all here for you in the meantime."
“Yeah, I know.” Eddie smiled, glancing over at Buck to find him already watching him. When their eyes meet, his smile grows wider, and he could feel his stomach flutter.
It may take a while for him to go back to work, maybe a month or maybe six; it may be a while before he can make sense of all his emotions and everything that’s happened, but he’d do it with Buck, Chris, and his family by his side.
It is so easy to hide your depression. To put on a smile and pretend that everything is okay, that you’re fine. But the aftermath? The pain that comes from hiding how you feel and pushing everything down? That’s far from easy, and Eddie is tired of hurting. He’s ready to heal.
It will take months before he’s ready to go back to work, and in that time he’ll go to more therapy than he has in the last three years put together. He and his family will attend an Out of the Darkness walk, with more of them wearing Teal honor beads than he thought there would be, and it will heal another part of his soul. Buck will officially move in, but really it will just be a formality.
Eddie will heal; that cavernous hole in his chest that the years and the trauma slowly and painfully dug out will fill with the love of his family, and his heart will mend.
For now, in the midst of his family, where everyone is happy and healthy and alive, he’ll smile at his partner and feel safe knowing that no matter what happens, he’s not going to be alone.