Archive of Our Own ^beta

Buck could barely contain his nerves. He hadn’t had a good sit-down with Bobby since the tsunami, actually probably since his disastrous ‘Welcome Back’ party. He hadn’t even been back to their house since. He should be nervous about going back to the site of the, like, fourth worst moment of his life. But really, it was the sketchy half-plan, based on a few research binges lately, that was giving him the most trouble. The union, the doctors, the team; they could all help him get back to the 118. Back home.

Athena was all hugs and smiles but Bobby seemed stiff and… well if Buck didn’t know any better, he would say Bobby seemed nervous and uncomfortable. Instead of a hug, he got a firm grip on the shoulder. Not completely out of character but the grip was a little too hard and Bobby, about 70% of the time, hugged him when he walked in the door. Or handed him a cooking utensil. Or both. Tonight, he was handed a cool glass of Athena’s iced tea and told ‘relax, dinner is almost ready’ without an invitation to join in on the preparation.

Dread pooled in his stomach, rock hard and leaden.

He wasn’t liking this dinner.

It was starting to feel too familiar.

He kept up conversation with Athena well enough. Kids, work, her new book club, Christopher’s new science project idea - this was the third topic he’d floated - before Bobby gave a weird smile as he popped in saying dinner was ready.

It looked good. Some of his favorites were on the table, including Bobby’s green beans and Athena’s cornbread. He wistfully eyed Athena’s collard greens, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. Not with the damned blood thinners and all that stupid vitamin K. Still, the dread refused to move. They chatted amiably through dinner, Buck rambling through his latest interests, two of them courtesy of Chris’ rejected science project ideas. But the sheer politeness of it all - the way Athena glanced at Bobby with a loaded gaze; the way Bobby’s laughter was superficial at best; the way Buck himself couldn’t push back the nagging feeling that everything was falling apart and had been since he coughed up blood. He talked about the lawyer. He talked about family. He brought up the start of his half-baked plan, rambling a little because he was not sure what the look in Bobby’s eyes was but he did not like it.

Then it came. 

“You’re not ready.”

“You’re a liability.”

There were other words. Words he couldn’t hear over the roar of his anger and the shattering of his heart.

He’d said… he’d told that lawyer… they were family .

Apparently, more like the kind of family he’d always known.

Not the kind he’d thought he’d finally found. Finally built .

He felt it then. The walls. The walls he’d built with solid titanium. The walls he’d let down for these people he’d found - these people that he thought loved him - as much as he did them. The walls that kept the messy bits of ‘Evan’ in. The walls that didn’t do quite so well with ‘Buck,’ but that was a problem for a different time. 

He stood, he might have been interrupting Bobby but he couldn’t bring himself to care much.

He politely thanked Athena for dinner. 

Shrugged off her insistence that he didn’t have to go.

Because he did. He certainly couldn’t stay. Didn’t she see that? He knew better now.

Bobby tried talking to him again and it made him angry. So angry that- “You kept telling me you weren’t my dad. And you weren’t. But you’re sure acting like him” - slipped out. Past those titanium walls that didn’t fit ‘Buck’ - that never learned to, that never had to. 

He’d never told them anything - there wasn’t much to tell but inferences could be made very easily. The look on Bobby’s face wasn’t something Buck had any reason or desire to parse out. Not anymore. He didn’t have the courage to look at Athena. He couldn’t bear to see thunder in her eyes after throwing out such a barb to her husband. 

He left without hugs. Without goodbyes. 

Alone.

Again.

He’s made it to the beach before he’s even thought of anywhere to go. The parking lot and the beach itself are still a wreck with all the debris, so he just climbs on top of his car to listen to the waves. 

Safe, normal waves. 

Not tsunami waves.

Not the waves of grief and despair that threaten to ruin him in near the same way the tsunami had.

He probably needs to pack. If his firehouse doesn’t want him anymore he can always go to a different one. But not in L.A. They would see each other at trainings, particularly bad scenes, on the streets. He doesn’t think he can handle that. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough.

He’d left Maddie behind before and that was a terrible idea. Maybe if he only goes to a neighboring state. Or the other side of this one. Sacramento might be far enough away, yet close enough. He just wishes he could figure out where everything went wrong. Was he really just too much? For anyone? Had he misread things the entire time? Maybe Chim’s teasing wasn’t so gentle. Maybe Hen’s demeanour was less ‘sister’ and more ‘put-upon.’ Maybe Eddie was -

The buzzing of his phone barely beats out the buzzing of his head, but the ringtone he had set for Eddie’s house phone, Dory’s ‘just keep swimming.’ has him pressing ‘answer’ before he can second guess it.

“Go ahead, buddy. Buck’s on, you can talk to him.” There’s shuffling as the phone is handed over. “Bucky?”

Apparently, his heart hasn’t completely shattered, because the tears obvious in Chris’ voice break his heart even more. Or maybe he has another heart just for Christopher. “I’m here, superman.”

There’s a hitching, gasping breath. “Are you sure?”

“1,000%. How can I help?”

There’s only silence punctuated by sniffles and hiccups.

“Chris. Whatever you need. Waffles, ice cream, the moon, one of my left shoes.”

There’s something resembling a giggle through the tears. “Can you… can you come over? If it’s not past your bedtime?”

Titanium is not Christopher-proof. 

“It’s never past my bedtime if you need me. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise. Do you want me to stay on with you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Have you done any more research on your science project? Cause I have.”

“Can you t-tell me about it?”

“Absolutely! Did you know that fruits and vegetables with anthocyanin can be boiled down and then the water can be used as an indicator for pH? In fact-”

Buck rambles for almost 20 minutes about beets and red cabbages and turnips and pH indicators as Chris breathes shakily, but relatively calmly, into the phone, occasionally interrupted by asking questions. Occasionally interrupted by hitching breaths that hint at sobs. Buck asks some questions too and he knows Eddie is writing them down so they can look up answers later. 

As Buck pulls into their driveway, the door opens and Christopher is there, standing on the edge of the front stoop, hand on the wall to steady himself without his crutches. Almost as if he wants Buck in his sights as soon as possible. 

Buck knows the feeling, feels better himself even, and obliges easily. He assumes he can still trust at least these observations. And he would never, could never, will never ever doubt Christopher. He jumps out of the Jeep, leaving an ended call and dark cell phone in the car. The only person who might need him is right in front of him anyway. He plasters on a big smile, only slightly forced, and takes advantage of his long legs to take only a few bounds up to Christopher, sweeping him up in a tight hug that Chris instantly koala-s into. 

“Just missed me so much, huh? Couldn’t wait ‘til after school tomorrow?”

Chris begins to cry in earnest again. “I c-couldn’t find you, Bucky. I d-didn’t know where any-anything was and I c-couldn’t f-find you ,” he ends in a bit of a wail.

And yeah, Buck had been afraid of that. Of this. Ever since they survived that first wave, he has been terrified of what such trauma might do to him. To all three of them. He squeezes Chris almost as tight as the guilt that is currently squeezing his heart in a vice grip.

“I know, buddy. I know and I’m so sorry. But you found me. You found me and I have you and your dad has you and you have us.” The gasping breaths slowly but surely give way to soft tears and gentle hiccups as Buck rocks him, reassures him, holds him tight. “Does everything out here look familiar?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about some of it.”

“There’s th-the palm tree across the street.” A little hitching hiccup. “The weird fla-flamingos two doors down. Da-nny’s bike is in the grass.” A shaky breath. “His moms ha-te that but at least it’s prop-propped up this time.” Buck chuckles, hoping the vibrations help calm him. Words start trumping the little hiccups and heavy breaths. “The street lamp is still o-out. Dad frowns whenever he sees it. He says it's bad man-management and unsafe, especially with so many kids around.”

“He’s probably right about that.”

“He’s right about a lot of s-stuff.”

“He sure is.”

“He said you might not pi-ck up.” Chris’ breath hitches

Buck hurries to hush Chris, hand running through his hair, even as his heart sinks, trying not to let Eddie’s lack of faith get to him. Even if ‘there’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you’ starts to ring false and empty in his ears. For Chris’ sake, he keeps everything buried, all the hurt and insecurities. Chris deserves the best and, well, Buck is going to try .

“Well, we didn’t say he was right about everything .” Christopher huffs, a ghost of a laugh, and Buck grins, pulling his face away from Christopher’s so that he can rub their noses together and look in his eyes.

Christopher gives him a shy, unsure smile.

“You want to go through the rest of it?”

“I see your jeep next to daddy’s truck, just like it’s supposed to be.” Chris tucks his face into Buck’s shoulder and Buck mimics him - not entirely sure that such a simple, easy statement didn’t just stop his heart. Or give him an arrhythmia.

“Great job. What can you feel?”

“My pajamas, which are a little sweaty and sticky. There’s a bit of wind going around my feet. Your warmth. Your arms around me. They’re strong. They make me feel safe.”

“You are safe, buddy. You’re completely safe right here, right now. What can you hear?”

“Your heartbeat, just like always when you hold me tight. All the bugs that are talking to each other. Your car engine cooling down.”

Tungsten walls couldn’t keep this kid out.

“Yeah. What can you smell?”

“Your cologne. And you.”

“You saying I stink?”

Christopher shook his head. “You just smell like Bucky. But you don’t smell like sea-water.”

“No?”

“No. That means my dream wasn’t real.”

“That’s right buddy.”

“Which is good cause I can’t really taste anything.”

Buck laughs at that and when he pulls back again, Chris’ smile is less unsure, more steady.

“I think your dad has probably had enough of the outside thing.”

Chris scrunches his face. “I guess my toes are cold.”

Buck laughs again, feeling more real himself. This kid. And he finally looks at Eddie.

Eddie. The one person in his spiral he dreaded getting to. How was he supposed to read any of this now? Chris was easy, he was a kid, a good kid. His emotions and reactions were genuine. But Eddie. How one man could look worried, relieved, and relaxed all at once was beyond him. But he’s just sitting on the front step, calm, like he doesn’t mind Buck standing in his driveway, holding his kid, at whatever time this is, brow only lightly furrowed in general concern. 

Buck starts walking towards the man he considers his best friend, a man he’s not sure how he lived without for so long with how well they fit together. He tries not to let more doubt seep in. For one, he knows Chris would pick up on it and that just would not do. For two, he’s not sure he can handle it right now anyway. He’s spent more concentrated time with Eddie than maybe anyone but Maddie and it would hurt to go through it all and see what he got so terribly, deeply wrong.

They talk about meaningless things as they get Chris changed into new pajamas and tucked back into bed. 

“Hey Buck?”

“Yeah Chris?”

“What if I did my science project on tsunamis?”

He glances at Eddie, who looks as astounded as Buck feels. “I think it could be fun. Maybe if we understood them better, they wouldn’t be so scary. And they are really interesting.”

Chris brightens. “They are?”

Buck loosens a bit. “I read up a bit on them after ours and I thought so. There are definitely people out there who study them who think so.”

Chris hums thoughtfully. “I might like to talk to one.”

Buck runs his fingers through Chris’ hair. “We could talk to one even if you don’t use it for your science project.”

Chris grins, almost like usual. “Yeah but if we’re doing research anyway, we can use it for a grade.”

Buck laughs quietly. Gently stroking Chris’ hair.

“Can you tell me a story, Bucky?”

“Sure thing. What about?”

“A dragon, a prince, and a frog.”

“What’s their goal here?”

“To turn the frog back into a dragon.”

And if that story has them conquering a water/bog wizard? Well, that’s for him, Chris, and a seemingly amused Eddie to know.

Eddie deflates, slumping quietly against the wall, as soon as they leave Chris’ room, satisfied he’s happily in dreamland. Buck watches carefully as Eddie runs a hand down his face and hangs his head a bit before he pushes off the wall and trudges toward the kitchen. Buck follows him. What else can he do? What else does he do? It’s gotta be getting old for Eddie.

“Beer or tequila?”

“Water actually.”

“Fuck. Blood thinners.”

“Basically.”

Eddie pours two glasses of water.

“I didn’t mean you can’t have any.”

Eddie gives him a look. It’s a little complicated and while he thinks he could, he doesn’t try to interpret it. Not tonight.

“It’s probably not a good idea anyway.”

They sit quietly in the kitchen, sipping their waters.

“We didn’t pull you away from anything right? I mean Bobby had you over for dinner tonight so I hope-”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The silence is tense now. Buck is trying to put his walls back up but it’s hard with Eddie. He’d had boundaries and a bad attitude for all of maybe 20 hours before they blew up an ambulance together. He thinks they couldn’t be closer if they had ended up in the same body bag - or, well mist spray - but that thought is a little dark and he’s so uncertain of everything. How does he even know that he isn’t in hell or purgatory right now?

“Buck.”

Buck meets Eddie’s eyes. The concerned furrow of his brow is more pronounced than it was outside, when he seemed mostly relieved. But relief at what?

“What’s going on in your head right now?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. It will rip him wide open if he-

“What do you know about purgatory?”

That look is easy, it’s definitely surprise. “That it was the attainable of the three options, if you did all your Hail Mary’s.” There was a light smile on his lips, despite the furrow.

Buck just stayed silent. He wasn’t supposed to say that. He didn’t mean to-

“How do you know if you’re in purgatory? Or in hell?”

The smile drops. The furrow deepens. Eddie searches his face. “I don’t know. I guess it would feel a lot like pain. Torture if it’s hell.”

So he’s in purgatory then. Awesome.

“What’s making you think you’re in a place meant to scare Catholic children?”

Buck snorts. And drops his head to the table. Apparently the walls don’t work in this house. Maybe hiding is better. 

“Buck.”

He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even know which reaction to pick.

“You’re starting to worry me.”

He looks up, with words to assure him that he’s fine. That everything is -

“Are we actually friends?”

That is definitely surprise. And indignation. And consideration.

“I mean, at least.”

At least? What the fuck does that mean?

“You held me and my son together through the death of his mother. You held him through a tsunami. I held you under a ladder truck. I’m not sure even best friend holds a candle to all that.”

The boulder that dropped onto his soul at dinner doesn’t feel quite so enormous anymore.

“You’re family, Buck. Plain and simple. Hell, your last name may as well be ‘Diaz’ for all Abuela loves you. For all of us Diaz’ do.”

And oh, oh , isn’t that a thought. 

“Really?” It’s more a croak than a word but Eddie must hear it anyway ‘cause he nods.

“My mother didn’t get ‘Abuela’ privileges until after I was born.”

“You were last.”

Eddie shrugs. “Mom doesn’t even have her pozole recipe.”

Buck is a little stunned by that. He has that recipe. He’d made it for Eddie and Chris after one of Eddie’s shifts. One of the ones he dropped Chris off with him for. They’d said it was almost as good as Abuela’s. 

His brain is so jumbled right now. He can’t think about anything anymore.

“Buck.”

‘Cause yeah, Eddie’s not leaving it alone. “Just. Not tonight okay?”

Eddie nods. “Tomorrow?”

Buck nods. “I think I can put it into words then. But-” He manages to stop himself before he can get any farther. Dig himself in any deeper.

Eddie doesn’t let it lie. He nudges his foot gently, voice achingly soft. “But what?”

Buck shakes his head. He wants, he doesn’t know what but- 

“You promise?”

Eddie looks confused and Buck wants to gag himself. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me to promise but there’s not a lot I wouldn’t promise you.”

Vows bounce around his head but Buck’s always been too dramatic, too much, so he just… lets them and lays his head onto his folded arms with a groan. 

“Your filter off again?”

It had happened after PT sessions. After the tsunami. When he was in too much pain or too tired or both. But only around Eddie. And Maddie. Buck just nods against his arms. Eddie’s chair scrapes along the tile, then a hand is on the far side of his face, turning it. To, apparently, look at Eddie. 

Eddie. Eddie, whose face is relaxed, calm, maybe even caring, except for that damn furrow. 

“Let’s get some shut eye then.”

Buck blinks and apparently it’s enough acquiescence for Eddie who starts shutting off lights around the house and checking doors as Buck goes to get his shoes on. Or he would if Eddie didn’t snatch them out of his hands. 

“What are you doing?”

Buck looks around. “Uh, going home?”

Eddie looks at him funny. “Do you want to go home?”

Where is home for him anymore? He pays for the loft. The firehouse used to feel like home.  But this house - 

“No.”

Dammit. Maybe Eddie could gag him. 

Eddie takes his shoes and sets down. “Good. I wasn’t really inclined to let you.”

“Oh.” Buck is still confused. And standing there. Not sure what to do next. 

Eddie grabs his wrist, spends a moment just checking his pulse. It was kind of a new thing, yet seemed an almost ingrained habit now, since the ladder truck. Buck didn’t mind it. It always felt like confirmation he was alive. And not just for Eddie. 

Maybe he wasn’t in purgatory.

Eddie uses his wrist to lead him to the master. Eddie’s room. With Eddie’s bed. Not the couch. Not what he expected.

Oh, yeah. Buck is in hell.

Buck wakes before the alarm, curled around and damn near plastered to Eddie. Which he had warned Eddie was going to happen . Infuriatingly, and oh so wonderfully , Eddie had only shrugged, completely nonchalantly, saying ‘maybe that will keep me from kicking you.’

And Buck can not take a deep breath. It’s not a panic attack or a heavy weight on him or anything. He just - it’s a lot of Eddie first thing in the morning. And it’s not like he smells bad. Buck is just really trying not to sink into, enjoy, and revel in the gift - and the torture - that is completely, overwhelmingly, purely Eddie . 

Which is also about when he realizes that his arms were not only wrapped around Eddie, but Christopher as well. 

And wasn’t that a kick in the head. His arms wrapped around pretty much his entire world. 

He reflexively tightens his arms around them both, just wanting to feel their solid presence in his arms. When nothing else feels anything close to solid anymore. 

He feels a little bad when both Chris’ and Eddie’s breathing change.

God, he could feel Chris’ breathing pattern against his arms and Eddie’s against his chest.

Do heaven and hell exist in the same plane? It sure feels like it at this one perfect, beautiful moment.

Eddie groans and snuggles his head into his pillow and, incidentally, Buck’s chest. Then he leans forward and nuzzles into Christopher’s hair. It takes his head from Buck’s chest, but he doesn’t begrudge Eddie such a simple and wonderful comfort.

Chris slowly sits up, Buck relaxing his grip enough to provide both support and maneuverability. When Chris finally gets up enough to see Buck, he smiles wide and bright.

“You’re still here, Buck.”

Buck nodded. “After a rough night I always like a good, warm breakfast. Thought you might too.” Not the whole truth, not even remotely a lie.

Chris’ grin goes wider than his face and God does Buck love him.

“Looks like you want eggs and pancakes.” Chris nods vigorously,

“Then let’s let your dad sleep a little longer and you can help me in the kitchen.”

Chris clambers down off the bed, Eddie’s bed, and Buck starts to follow when one of Eddie’s hands holds him back by the wrist. Fingers resting on his pulse point. A thumb sweeping up and down. He’s released.

Well, his wrist is.

“I’ll come get you when it’s all done.”

Eddie nods his head, eyes still closed, face mostly buried in the pillow.

“Any special request?”

Eddie cracks his eyes open. Barely.

“I think there’s an avocado that might be good.”

Buck smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

“I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry too much about it. Chris and I are good.”

Eddie nods. Eyes closing again. “I know.”

The easy and complete assurance makes his heart clench. He wants - he just wants. So instead he turns to follow Christopher to the kitchen.

The avocado is actually perfect. There’s a bottle of salsa and some mixed shredded cheese in the fridge too. Buck sets Chris to stirring the pancake mix. Cooking is good physical and occupational therapy and, every time, he gets better - batter and sauces less clumpy, more smooth, requiring less and less help from Buck.

Buck works on slicing the avocado and scrambling enough eggs for the three of them.

And he wants and wants.

Chris announces that he’s done with the pancake batter. So Buck grabs the cinnamon and the whisk, giving the batter just a dash and some final vigorous stirs.

“You did great, buddy. You get better every time.”

Chris’ grin could light up the entire house. Buck can’t help a huge smile in response.

“Let’s see if the smell of coffee brewing is enough to get your dad up.”

Chris nods and giggles. 

And Buck wants. He wants this forever. Chris. Eddie. The simple domesticity. Pancakes and eggs and cereal and waking up together and and and… 

He’s worried he’s only latching on so hard because he thinks it’s the best he can ever get. Even if it’s just small pieces and parts of their lives.

He’s even more worried that he’s latching on so hard because there is nothing better than this. That he has feelings so big and so monumental that they might bring his entire world to the ground if he’s wrong. Or if he’s screwed this up too.

Then Eddie is in the doorway. Sleep rumpled. Shuffling towards the coffee maker.

Buck tries not to stare, just focuses on Chris’ fist bump, his sly smile basically saying ‘that was too easy.’

A cup of coffee is casually placed out of the way but in Buck’s eye line. He takes a sip. Perfect, just the way he likes it. 

And he wants.

He’s got the pans heated up. One for pancakes. One for omelets. Chris’ portion is first, a cheese omelet with 2 pancakes, served with flair and received with giggles. Eddie’s soft smile warms the entire room.

Or maybe it’s just Buck.

Eddie gets Buck’s best work, a cheese, avocado, and salsa omelet with 3 pancakes. Buck receives that same soft smile and a gentle “Thanks, Buck” as he sets the plate down.

Buck makes the same for himself, finally sitting down to enjoy breakfast with the Diazes. 

And he wants to do this forever.

Chris talks as he cuts his pancakes.

Eddie’s soft smile stays, no trace of that furrow, knee pressed gently but insistently against Buck’s.

And he wants.

Christopher stands to get ready for school. Eddie stands to get ready for drop-off. Buck stands to do dishes. 

Eddie grabs his wrist again, fingers on his pulse point. “You’ll come with us to drop off?”

Buck feels another loosening of the tightness in his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. Let me get the bowl soaking and I’ll come get ready too.”

He receives a gentle smile, and another run of Eddie’s thumb, before he walks away to get dressed.

Buck takes a deep breath, holding onto the serenity of the morning, the perfection of a breakfast together before school. Bobby and all the heartbreak pushed aside. Simply reveling in the peace of Christopher’s crutches, running water, and easy footsteps. 

Eddie goes quiet as soon as they drop Chris off.

“Yours, mine, or neither?”

Buck thinks about it. He can wallow by himself. He can wallow with Eddie. They can wallow in the park. 

“Yours.”

Eddie nods and starts for home.

Well, his home.

“How often is he getting nightmares?”

Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “About every other night. I usually just show him recent pictures of you. Remind him that it’s over. That you’re both safe.”

“You can always call me. I’ll always pick up.”

Eddie grimaces.

“I mean you don’t have to. Obviously. It seems you’ve got a good handle on it anyway. So. You know, -”

Eddie’s hand grabs his wrist. “Buck.”

Buck shuts up.

“I didn’t mean that I don’t want to call you. I just don’t want us to be a bother on your time and space.”

This is a strange turn of events. Buck is usually the one worried about that.

“You guys are pretty much the most important things I’ve got right now. Maybe ever. You never need to worry that you’re asking too much.”

Eddie is quiet, tense. 

“Eddie. I want to be there for him. For you. Especially if it will help. I’m the reason you’re dealing with all this anyway-”

Eddie squeezes his wrist. “Buck.”

Buck shuts up.

“You better mean that you’re the reason I get the privilege to deal with this. Without you, I wouldn’t have a son to comfort anymore. The nightmares are a blessing compared to the alternative.”

“Yeah, but-”

“But nothing. He’s alive. You’re alive. And I am nothing but unendingly grateful.”

“Okay.”

“You just don’t want to argue anymore.”

“I’m actually trying to believe you.”

Eddie stops at a red light. “I can work with that.”

Buck’s heart clenched.

“I don’t want to take more than you’ve already given. You got him through the tsunami. I can get him through the nightmares.”

“You don’t have to do it alone. If you don’t want to. I can help. If it would be, ya know, helpful.”

Eddie looks over and smiles. “Thanks, Buck. I won’t hesitate as much to call next time.”

Buck nods. “I just want him safe. And happy.”

Eddie grins. “Spoken like a true Christopher-lover.”

Buck laughs. It feels good.

They lapse into comfortable silence.

“Are you having nightmares, too?”

Buck stutters, “I, um, what?”

Eddie shrugs. “I have nightmares about it. The bodies in the water. Christopher and you in body bags. I figured you might be having trouble too.”

Buck hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For being a burden?”

Eddie gives him an incredulous side-eye. “I asked. I want to know if you’re ok. You’re one of those ‘most important things’ to me too.”

“Oh.”

Eddie waits for a few beats. “So how are the nightmares?”

“I, um. I get them almost every night.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Kinda the same things you mentioned. Bodies in the water. Christopher in a body bag. You never speaking to me again. Drowning with no end in sight.”

“God, Buck.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie nods, a tight set to his jaw.

Then turns off the route to the Diaz home. Almost as if he’s heading towards Buck’s loft.

Yeah. He should have seen that coming. It was too much again. He was too much again.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck are you sorry for?”

“That was clearly too much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re not going home anymore.”

Eddie sighs. “No. We’re gonna swing by yours and you’re gonna pack a bag.”

What . “What?”

“You can say no if it makes you uncomfortable, but all three of us are struggling. Maybe we’ll struggle less under the same roof.”

Huh . “You want me… to stay with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

They have another red light so Eddie takes the opportunity to actually look at Buck. “Because I’m worried about you. And I think it would help Chris. And you. And me.”

“You’ll have to tell me when I’ve overstayed my welcome. I can’t tell sometimes.”

“You realize Chris may not ever let you leave.”

“And as much as I love him, it’s your space too. We - I can say no to him for your sake.”

“God, Buck.”

“What?”

“Is there a selfish bone in your body?”

“Lots of them.”

Eddie snorts. “I’ve yet to see one.”

That’s because I broke them long ago. I broke them in a bid for attention in a lonely house. And I’m not sure they ever worked in the first place.

But Buck kept those thoughts to himself. “All I ever really wanted was Maddie. Now I have her. What else can I really ask for?”

Eddie’s side eye is really on point today. “Things that make you happy.”

I’m happy with you and Chris. I’m happy at the 118. But I’ve asked. I’ve begged. And I’ve been told no.

“What are you trying so hard not to ask for?”

Buck shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Buck hangs his head. “Eddie, please.”

These red lights are getting pretty damn convenient for whenever Eddie needs to look at him. Buck lets him search his face for whatever it is he’s looking for.

“Okay.”

“Thanks.”

“I won’t let it go forever.”

“Eddieeeeee.”

Eddie shrugs.

“You’re my best friend, Buck. You’re Christopher’s best friend too. You deserve to be happy. And I want my kid to see that.”

“No fair using Chris against me.”

“Not sorry.”

They finally pull up to the loft.

“You want me to wait in the car or come up with you?”

“You can wait. I won’t take long.”

“You should.”

“What?”

“Take long. Decompress a bit. Gather your thoughts. Pack twice as much as you think you should.”

“Um.”

“I mean it.”

“Oh.”

Eddie looks contemplative. “Tell you what. I’ll go to that fancy coffee shop you like. Get that weird drink you love. Maybe try something new myself. I’ll come up when I get back.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“I promise.”

Oh. That feels like a punch to the gut.

“Oh. Sounds, uh. Sounds good.”

“Good.”

“I’m gonna, yup, gonna go get some stuff.”

“I’ll see you soon, Buck.”

His chest is tight for a different reason now. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie really hadn’t been kidding. After he got back with their coffees, Eddie pretending he didn’t like his as much as he actually did, Eddie took one look at Buck’s duffle bag, then grabbed half his closet, including all his uniforms and his laundry before cleaning out the fridge into some reusable bags and deeming them ready to go.

They were back at the house now. Sitting at the kitchen table. With full glasses of water. A load of their mixed laundry in the washer. Buck’s clothes put away against Eddie’s. Which was a sight that made his chest tight and his heart flip.

“You ready to talk about last night?”

“No.”

“Will you do it anyway?”

“Yeah.”

They sit for a while, Buck trying to figure out what to say.

“People in the main office aren’t super pleased with me.”

“Why not?”

“The department is keeping me in the field as much as possible. Which means other people’s turns out are getting skipped.”

Eddie’s face furrows in confusion. Buck just lets him work through and watches as confusion turns into haunted understanding then anger.

“A desk job - light duty. That's a recipe for blood clots.”

“Big time.”

“Who the fuck’s dumbass idea was that?”

“Bobby’s.”

“What?”

“That’s what he said.”

“At dinner last night.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Buck shakes his head. “He told me I’m a liability. That he has other firefighters to worry about. That he can’t have me out in the field.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Sounds about right to me.”

Eddie gives him a hard look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m always more trouble than…” Buck trailed off. 

Eddie growls. “That sentence better not end with ‘than I’m worth.’”

“Well I’ve never had any evidence to the contrary.”

Eddie looks shell shocked. “What?”

“Until the 118? Until you and Chris? Nobody has ever wanted to stick around. Or asked me to.”

Eddie clearly has no words for what Buck had been trying so hard to reign in. To keep tamped down and glossed over.

“I’m sure it didn’t escape your notice that you’ve never heard about or seen my parents.”

“I figured they were dead.”

Buck snorted. “Alive and well in Pennsylvania.”

“Who doesn’t come see their kid when they almost die?”

“My parents.”

“That’s fucked.”

“That’s Margaret and Phillip Buckley for you.”

Eddie pauses. “They weren’t even here for Maddie. After Doug.”

“To be fair, they did call her. And send her a care package. Once they heard.”

“Once they heard?”

“Well, Maddie didn’t bother calling them.”

Eddie looks incredulous. “Why not?”

Buck shrugs. “They weren’t there for the wedding. Maddie said they didn’t earn the right to be there for the end.”

Eddie whistles. “Go Maddie.”

“They were apparently hurt that she didn’t call them herself.”

“Hypocrites.”

“Yeah. Well. Before Doug, before me, they actually seemed to have a relationship with Maddie.”

“Why do you say ‘before me?’”

He shrugged again. “Some things Maddie says. About how they were. Wasn’t hard to figure out something changed when I came along.”

“You know that’s on them, not you.”

“Sure. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m always…”

“Always what, Buck.”

“The common denominator.”

Eddie drops his face into his hands and groans. “Buck-”

Buck cuts him off. “No, Eddie. There are certain things I know. I shouldn’t be at a desk job. The screws are causing the blood clots. I ruin everything I touch. And no one ever wants to keep me.”

Eddie looks devastated. “Buck-”

“It’s hard to ignore the pattern, Eddie. My parents never wanted me. Maddie left so easily.”

“She had an abusive husband who wouldn’t let her leave. Or have support.”

“She left for college and barely looked back. Well before Doug.”

“Buck-”

“Nobody has ever fought for me to stay. Or fought to stay with me. And now.” Buck huffs out a soulless laugh. “Now there’s a piece of tape with someone else’s name over mine. And I have a captain who doesn’t want me around. Who doesn’t want the trouble.”

“Say that’s all well and true.”

“I do.”

“Where do Chris and I fit?”

Buck fidgets. “Into the things I ruin.”

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

“We never should have been on that pier.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Of course it does!”

“Why?”

“Because how can you ever forgive me when I can’t forgive myself?”

The air is tense and still.

“Because there was never anything to forgive.”

“Eddie.”

“No, Buck. I listened. Now it’s your turn.”

Buck is a little stunned.

“Patterns can be broken. Maddie came back. I stopped running. Not everything is your fault.”

“Eddie-”

“I didn’t like it. Seeing Bosko’s name over yours. Everyone else thought it was funny. ‘We’re trading the B’s around!’ But you’re right. It felt like replacing you, diminishing your absence. Maybe that made your absence less… devastating. But it was cruel for you to see and I’m sorry.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

“Like a bitch, actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

Buck shrugs. “It’s not your fault.”

Eddie’s eyes are determined as they bore into his. “It’s not yours either.”

“Okay.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Eddie. Come on.”

“It’s called ‘fake it till you make it.’ Come on, Buckley.”

“Fuck you Diaz.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault,” Buck mumbles.

Eddie nods. “Weak, but I’ll take it for now. And me and Chris - we’re keeping you. No matter what.”

Buck doesn’t know what look is on his face. He hopes it’s not as disgustingly hopeful and wistful as he feels.

Based on Eddie’s look of overwhelming compassion, it probably is.

Buck’s heart sinks as that compassion turns into heartbreaking understanding.

Yeah, he knew he shouldn’t have packed so much-

“I promise.”

Buck’s heart damn near stops.

And then before he can even register it, he can’t stop his eyes and he’s crying.

Buck wakes up on the couch with gritty eyes, an aching head, and a ringing phone. 

The caller ID says ‘Bobby.’

Buck declines the call.

Maybe he should have picked up but he’s tired and emotionally drained.

He’s always been a vicious cryer.

He wasn’t sure what more there was to say anyway.

He looks around, finding a full glass of water, some Aleve, and a note on the coffee table.

Gone to pick up Chris. Be back soon. Promise.

Goddammit. He was never going to survive hearing the word ‘promise’ ever again.

He takes the Aleve, downs the majority of the water, and sets off for the bathroom intent on splashing some water on his face.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to drag the worst of Buck’s feelings to the surface and out of the iron grip he had on his insecurities and failings. Just to slap them around, call them a bitch, and tell them to leave Buck alone.

The next time he fucked up and chased everyone away, it would be so painful to remember fingers in his hair and a soft voice saying ‘It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise.’ on repeat. As  Eddie had just done while Buck ruined his t-shirt with four disasters worth of tears.

Buck figures that he might as well earn his keep and roots around the kitchen for dinner supplies. God forbid Eddie heard him say anything like that but Buck still can’t help but think it.

With both of their combined groceries, they have everything he needs for a stir fry, even if it is way too early to start prep.

A glance at the clock tells him that Eddie and Chris should be home in about twenty minutes so he goes about putting together a snack for Chris - cheese, crackers, and an apple he would cut up as soon as the door opened.

His phone rings again. Still Bobby. Two calls in 10 minutes. There must be an emergency of some sort.

He answers. “Are Eddie and Chris okay? Maddie?”

There’s an awkward pause on the other end. “As far as I know? Why wouldn’t they be?”

Buck shrugs, not that Bobby can see it. “Didn’t think there was any other reason to call.”

Bobby lets out a strangled version of his name.

“The rest of the team okay? Athena? The kids?”

“Buck… yes. Everyone is fine.”

“Okay.” Then he hangs up.

Eddie and Chris take that moment to walk in the door and Buck revels in the sounds of them talking and laughing. Buck follows the sounds to their origin, receiving a hearty “Buck!” and a big, warm Christopher hug. 

Chris doesn’t seem to mind that Buck holds on a little too tight and a little too long.

“How do you feel about stir fry for dinner?”

“You’re cooking, right Buck?”

Buck nods. “Sure am, kid.”

“Yeah!”

“What about you, Eddie? Stir fry sound good?”

Eddie’s face holds a soft Christopher-smile. “Yeah, Buck. Sounds great. We have enough for Maddie too?”

Buck can’t help his wonder. “You invited Maddie over for dinner?”

Eddie shrugs. Like he hasn’t just given Buck the emotional equivalent of the lottery. “Thought you might like to see her.”

Buck pulls Eddie into a definitely too tight, too long hug. “Thank you.”

Yet Eddie’s embrace is just as tight. Like he’s not letting up or letting go until Buck does. “Anytime, Buck. Promise.”

“You’ve got to stop saying that.”

“Why? You asked me to.”

Buck groans into Eddie’s shoulder, who huffs out a chuckle.

“I know it makes you uncomfortable right now. But I promise, regardless of all else, I promise.”

“Fuck you, Diaz.”

Eddie gives him a firm pat on the back and one last gentle squeeze before pulling away. “Can’t get rid of us that easily.”

Chris calls from the kitchen. “Buuck, can you cut my apple?”

Buck easily obliges, sitting down for the daily debrief and schoolwork.

Maddie shows up around 6 as Buck is prepping veggies for their meal. The siblings share a long, tight hug, unwilling to let each other go. He’s glad everyone has been obliging him today. See? He can say obliging instead of humouring. That’s better, isn’t it?

“You’re okay, baby brother?”

“Yeah, Mads. I’m okay.”

“Anything to do with the boys wonder over there?” She whispers conspiratorially. 

Buck groans, “Maddieeee.”

Maddie laughs, right in his ear. “I’m glad you’re all taking care of each other.”

Buck squeezes her tighter. “Me too.”

Maddie stays through Chris’ bedtime, settling on the couch with a glass of the wine she had brought over, Buck and Eddie settling down with water and beer respectively. Fucking blood thinners.

“So what is this fuckery that Eddie didn’t really mention?”

Buck gives Eddie a glare.

Eddie raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything specific. Just that you could probably use your sister.”

Buck sighs, a little dramatically if he’s being honest with himself. “Bobby called.”

Eddie grimaces and Maddie looks confused.

“I figure he was calling to chew me out for the comment I made before I left last night.”

Eddie speaks up. “What was the comment?”

Buck grimaces and fiddles with his water glass. “Told him for all his protests, he was sure acting like a Phillip kind of dad.”

Eddie nods and Maddie grimaces. “Harsh but probably in a good way.”

“Eddie, it was cruel .”

“Yeah and he’s keeping you back from your job. He needs a reality check.”

“Wait, wait. I’m lost. Bobby’s keeping you from your job?” Maddie interjects.

Buck nods, not making eye contact.

“He’d better have a good fucking reason.”

Buck shrugs. “He says he can’t have a liability like me out in the field.”

Eddie looks like he’s still seething about it and Maddie looks shocked. “Are the blood cots that big of a deal?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No. All we need is to make sure we have skin glue if he gets cut. And to try and not let him get hit. He wouldn’t be able to do rope rescues or clear a building but anything else is pretty much fair game.”

“Besides, it’s a worse deal being a fire marshal. They have a standing desk for me so when I am in the office I don’t have to sit. It was actually the push the department needed to start getting them for everybody.”

Maddie throws her head back, groaning. “God. I didn’t even think about the detriments of a desk job. I was just so relieved you weren’t out in the field for a minute.”

Eddie nods. “To be fair, I forgot too. It’s nice to think of him safe and sound. Except he’s not when he’s behind a desk.”

“‘He’ is right here.”

“We know.” And really, they should not do that simultaneously.

Maddie leans forward. “So what do you want, Evan? What do you want to do?”

Buck drops his head into his hands. “I want to be back at work. At the 118. But I can’t. Not if Bobby… not if he’s gonna be…”

Eddie’s voice is hard. “Like Phillip.”

Buck nods.

Maddie chews her lip. “I don’t think he is, Buck.”

Buck gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah? How else am I supposed to interpret this? He doesn’t want me, Maddie. And Eddie’s trained enough, now.”

Eddie’s voice is harsh. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Buck shrugs. “I figured you were always meant to replace me. I just made it a lot easier didn’t I?”

Eddie looks heartbroken. And somewhat thunderous “That’s why you hated me so much. That first day.”

Buck nods. He doesn’t want to guess at the look on his own face.

“Wherever you go, I’m going too. I don’t like doing this job without my partner.”

Buck’s eyes shoot up to Eddie’s. “But Bosko-”

“Has nothing on you. She’s a great firefighter, don’t get me wrong. But she’s not my partner.”

“Eddie-”

“No, Buck. Bobby told me he was bringing me on for you. Not to replace you, but to compliment you. He said we would make a great team, and we do.”

Maddie nods. “Buck. I think Bobby is just scared and guilty.”

“He should feel guilty pulling this shit.”

Maddie rolls her eyes at Eddie’s comment. “Eddie, come on. That bomb was meant for him. And all it did was hurt you, Buck. And it’s continued to hurt you, and hospitalize you, for months.”

Buck nods reluctantly. He can see her point.

“That bomb nearly killed you. Twice. And Bobby had to just stand by and watch. Twice. Can you blame him for not wanting to see that happen again?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I get it but he’s still being unfair.”

Maddie nods. “I agree. I’m just… I get it. You’ve been hurt so badly, Evan. If I never see you in the hospital again, it will be too soon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” Christopher has a potential surgery coming up and the anxiety from such a relatively safe procedure is enough to twist his stomach into knots. He can’t imagine how he would feel if it was because of him .

Except. He kind of can.

“So. What do you want to do, Evan?”

Buck looks down at his hands again. “I guess… I need to talk to Bobby again. But I think I want a union rep in the room. It’s not fair that everyone has been able to come back after life altering events and I’m being held back.”

Maddie and Eddie both nod. Eddie is the only one who speaks. “I think that’s a good idea, Buck. A neutral third party is probably what you both need.”

“And a therapist.” Maddie added.

Buck shudders. “I think we can skip that.”

Maddie snorts. “Why? That whole firehouse could put a therapist’s kid through school. All four years.

Eddie inclines his beer. “True.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Eddie looks over at him inquisitively. “I mean, sure, always but what for?”

Buck shrugs. “For talking me down. And through it. If I’d been left to my own devices, I probably would have done something monumentally stupid like move. Or sue.”

Both Maddie and Eddie tense. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t have gone far! Not with Maddie here in L.A. And you and Chris. No more than like 5 hours away.”

Maddie’s voice is small. “You really would have left?”

“Mads, you’ve got Chim, a good job. It felt like no one wanted me around and you don’t need me like you did when you first got here.”

“And what about us?”

“Eddie-”

“What about me and Chris? We just lost Shannon.”

“You wouldn’t have lost me. It’s not the same.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Similar enough. We can’t lose you, Buck.”

Maddie places her hand on his knee. “Nor do we want to.”

Buck’s eyes welled. “Okay.”

“Promise.”

“Eddieee.”

“No take backs.”

Maddie extends her pinky. Buck meets it with his, shaking them together a few times, foreheads leaning together. “You’ll always have us, Evan.”

Eddie nods. “Promise.”

Bastard.

“You really would have sued the department?”

Eddie had strong-armed him into the bed again. Not that Buck put up that much of a fight. 

“I had just met with that ambulance chaser from the drill. Told him to fuck off away from the firefa- fire house, actually. But if I had started to get really angry and desperate, yeah. Between Chim’s rebar accident and recovery from Doug’s attack, not to mention Bobby’s own relapse and the death of your wife, I probably would have had a really good case.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment. “Yeah. But that would have sucked. I don’t think anyone would have liked having all of that thrown at them by some smarmy lawyer.”

“Yeah. It would have been awful.” Buck turns over to face Eddie, barely able to make out his face in the darkness. “I’m really glad you called.”

Eddie grabs his wrist, fingers on his pulse point. “Me too, Buck.”

They fall asleep like that, grateful for each other’s presence. 

And somehow, the whole house sleeps straight through the night with no nightmares.

Buck had called out the day before, drained and frustrated, but he really did have to go back to his job today. And talk to a union rep. Buck had done school drop off so Eddie could head right over to the station, not that he had looked particularly thrilled. Buck mostly spent the day exchanging emails with the union, and his assigned representative, and slogging through paperwork. Why couldn’t he have done academy training? He had excellent scores. He thought he was a decent teacher. Maybe Bobby hadn’t…

No. Don’t think about Bobby. It wouldn’t help anything right now.

The union rep shows up a few hours after lunch to interview him about his case. 

And he lays it all out.

Chim coming back after rebar through the brain. After an assault by an abusive kidnapper. Bobby not having to take time off after falling off the wagon. Or after a vengeful kid threatened his wife and his team and himself with bombs. Eddie taking only minimal bereavement after the death of his wife. Not taking any time after his son almost died in a tsunami. How they were all allowed to dictate their own pace and limitations.

And Buck wasn’t.

He tries to keep it all factual, to keep his emotions out of it.

He thinks he does a pretty decent job.

He feels wrung out by the time she leaves. He just wants to cook dinner for his boys and go to sleep wrapped around Eddie again. 

He’s getting spoiled.

But Eddie wouldn’t be home for dinner. Or for bed.

And Carla probably already has something on.

But he does get to go home to Christopher instead of back to his loft.

Interesting that Christopher is ‘home’ and the place I pay for is ‘the loft.’

Except it’s not that interesting. 

And he knows all too well why. And it scares him.

Now just to keep from asking Eddie for it. For more. For too much.

Buck decidedly does not like sleeping in Eddie’s bed without Eddie. It’s just to the left of what he wants and he feels a little bereft. A lot bereft.

What he really wants is to be with Eddie at the station. Like he should be. 

So the empty spot in the bed grates on Buck’s nerves seven ways to Sunday.

He can’t find a good spot and it’s too cold and it’s too quiet and…

… there’s footsteps coming down the hall. Little shuffling ones. 

He waits patiently for Christopher to make his way into the room, grateful he left the door open.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Superman?”

“You’re not snoring.”

Buck sits up and rubs a hand down his face. “No, buddy. I’m sure not.” Buck gets up and walks over to Christopher, crouching down to his eye level. “And you’re not either. What’s up?”

Chris rubs at his tired eyes. “I’m so tired, Bucky. But I can’t stay asleep.” Chris’ soft, tired sniffles near break Buck’s heart.

Buck opens his arms and Chris steps easily into them, wrapping his own arms around Buck’s neck. “I don’t think either one of us sleep as good without your dad here.”

Chris shakes his head. Buck lifts them both off the floor.

“But maybe we can sleep better together.”

Chris pulls back to look at Buck. “I can sleep with you?”

Buck nods. “If you’re comfortable with that. And you think it would help.”

Chris relaxes into his arms, heavy and limp and obviously relieved. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Buck drops him onto the bed, eliciting a giggle, and kisses Christopher’s forehead before vaulting himself over Chris and onto the other side of the bed. “All you have to do is ask, buddy. If it’s in my power, it’s yours.”

Chris snuggles into his chest. “Love you, Bucky.”

Buck presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too, Chris.”

They fall asleep easily after that.

And when Buck wakes unsettled throughout the night, Chris is still snuggled into him, fist loosely grasping his shirt and he’s able to drift right back to sleep.

And when Chris starts whimpering from a nightmare, Buck is immediately awake and reassuring him ‘It’s ok. I’m here. You’re safe. There’s no water here, just soft sheets. I have you. You’re ok.’

And it’s so wonderful Buck could cry in sheer relief.

The next time Buck wakes, it’s to Eddie leaning on the door frame with the softest smile and most relaxed posture Buck thinks he’s ever seen on the man.

Buck makes a grabbing motion in Eddie’s direction. Eddie rolls his eyes and lets out a huff of laughter but obliges nonetheless, making a Chris Cuddle Sandwich. 

Buck’s sure his face is doing the sappiest things as Eddie obviously revels in the peaceful existence of his son, asleep and calm and safe. 

Buck just watches as Eddie buries his nose in Chris’ hair and wraps his hand around Chris’ arm. 

Before draping an arm over the both of them.

Eddie says nothing so Buck says nothing. Just closes his eyes and waits for the alarm. He knows they have at most 20 minutes.

But it might be the most peaceful and relaxing 20 minutes of Buck’s entire life .

The nice thing about Eddie working a 24 hour shift is that he gets the next 24 hours off. Which, as Buck is wrapping up his workday, he is endlessly grateful he gets to go home to both Diazes. The department had come through with an entire walking desk . And while he was grateful he had some exercise, it had also felt so pointless . And people next to him grumbled about the noise. And people around the office grumbled about his ‘special treatment.’ And Buck was tired and cranky and frustrated and really just wanted to cry. And go home.

On the bright side, he had a meeting with Bobby, HR, and the union set for next week.

Also on the bright side, Bobby had ceased calling him. It was probably an HR thing discouraging Bobby’s calls but Buck isn’t getting worried at least once a day thinking someone has been hurt or is dying or already dead. Buck still doesn’t know what Bobby wants to talk about, but he doesn’t trust himself or Bobby to have a rational discussion. And Buck just…

He’s so tired.

Tired of this stupid office.

Tired of a slow walking desk that goes nowhere.

Tired of being away from his team, his family .

Tired of feeling insecure about his place with them, if he ever had one to begin with.

He walks in the door of the Diaz house and he hears Chris talking about his homework and Eddie shuffling around the kitchen and he takes a moment to just… breathe.

Breathe in the smells of this house, this home .

Breathe out the stale, oppressive office air.

Breathe in the levity of the moment, the easy simplicity.

Breathe out the tension and the frustration.

Breathe in the abundant love that flows like water through pipes.

Breathe out the animosity and the insecurities.

He loves how easy this house is. How loving. How naturally it feels like home. How safe and content he feels as he steps over the threshold each day.

He loves how Chris and Eddie help bolster him to get through each day, to just keep swimming, so readily. How they don’t seem to notice, or mind, that he wants it, needs it, craves it. How they actually seem to enjoy giving it to him. How easily it comes to them, like it costs nothing and takes nothing; just like he’s always kind of dreamed of.

Buck toes off his shoes as Eddie steps into the entryway, giving him a once over. He must see nothing warranting concern because he smiles, giving him a quiet “Welcome home, Buck.”

And Buck is tucking Eddie into his arms before he processes the thought that he’s even going to. “Thank you, Eddie.”

And Eddie understands. He’s not saying thank you for the ‘welcome home.’ He’s saying thank you for the home and Eddie just gets it and hugs him tighter and Buck just sinks deeper.

“Everything okay?”

“For right now - yes. Everything, at this moment, is great.” Buck forces himself to pull back.

Eddie meets his eye, that stupid hand going to his stupid shoulder with his stupid thumb on the stupid pulse point in his neck. “So everything outside this house is a pile of dog shit and a half.”

Buck barks out a laugh. “Got it in one.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but gives him a big, easy grin. “Good thing you’re home then.”

“Yeah. Good thing. Especially so that Chris can have an edible dinner tonight.”

“You are an absolute dick.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not absolutely right.”

“I can feed my son.”

“I know you can. But we all know who’s cooking he much prefers.”

Ironically, Chris lets out a very put-upon “Buuuuuuck” into the middle of their banter and Buck grins, victorious, sweeping past Eddie to find his absolutely favorite Diaz.

Eddie takes one last small victory by swatting his ass on his way past, which, "hey, rude!” But he will admit, is also 100% justified. 

Chris hasn’t bothered to stand up, just looks up from his homework with his megawatt grin, cheek tilted for a kiss.

And how could Buck not oblige such a simple request?

Or supplement it with kisses all over his hair and forehead and cheeks?

He’s not a monster , geez.

When Chris is reduced to a wriggling mass of giggles, Buck finally relents. After blowing one last raspberry on his cheek. “How about a chicken, sausage, and broccoli pasta bake for dinner? Hm? Will that make all your superman muscles big and strong? Hm?”

Chris nods vigorously. “Sounds yummy, Buck!”

Buck turns to face Eddie, who is damn near sprawled on a kitchen chair bearing a ridiculously large grin. “Yeah, Buck, sounds great.”

Buck nods. “Is your homework done yet, Chris? Or can you and your dad spare some time to be my sous chefs?”

Buck revels in the fact that he gets to make dinner with them, for them. That they want to spend this time with him. Chris and Eddie are making almost identical faux consideration faces. 

“I suppose-” Eddie begins.

“If you really need our help-” Chris continues.

“Then I think we can take a break” Eddie finishes.

Buck rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s shoulder in retaliation. Buck washes his hands, followed by Eddie then Chris as he starts to get ingredients out of the fridge. Eddie had picked up the broccoli, chicken, shredded parm, shredded mozzarella, heavy cream, and a box of fusilli pasta earlier, when Buck had asked him to. Which just filled Buck with a heady feeling of yes and thank you and finally and almost .

“Alright Chris, do you want stirring duties or broccoli chopping duties?” Buck looks at Eddie who, as always, looks completely at ease with Chris choosing what he can and can’t handle. They’ve been over knife safety and stove safety multiple times and Chris has a great step stool that boxes him in on three sides, with the option of locking the fourth. 

Chris scrunches his face up, thinking hard, looking between the both of them a couple times. 

“Can I do both?”

Eddie looks ridiculously pleased. By what, Buck’s not sure but, if he had to guess, he would put money on it being that Chris feels comfortable asking and doing things for himself. And that heady feeling is back.

“Yeah, of course you can! Broccoli first then. You want help with your stool?”

“Yes, please.”

Buck nods, moves the stool over next to the stove, sets a chopping board in front, and watches as Eddie ‘helps’ Chris step onto the stool. Chris doesn’t really need help, it’s just that Eddie extends his arm, waiting to help if asked or if Chris wobbles too much.

“Okay, Chris. Knife rules.”

“Don’t hold it too tight. Don’t cut towards myself. Watch where all my fingers are. And please don’t make you guys take me to the hospital today.”

Buck gives him a high five. “Great job, bud. I’m gonna follow those rules as I cut the rest of the veggies and the chicken. And your dad’s gonna supervise us both.”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes but doesn’t relent from his watchful position over them both. 

Buck chops up two cloves of garlic, an onion, some bell peppers, slices the sausage, and then cubes the chicken as Chris works through the broccoli steadily and carefully. They finish around the same time and Chris beams at him, proud of his own work. Buck’s hands are raw-chicken-dirty so he drops a big ‘mwah’ onto Chris’ head, rubbing their heads together.

Eddie’s face is indescribably fond when Buck looks up at him and Buck simply beams, flooded with that heady feeling. Eddie squeezes his arm and drops his own kiss on Chris’ head as he walks past them to turn on the hot water in the sink. Which is just so damn thoughtful because now Buck doesn’t have to Clorox the handle as well as the sink. He just has to take his gross, contaminated chicken detritus to the hot water and scrub. Thoroughly.

He scrubs the knife, cutting board, and hands as Eddie gets out a pot and moves Christopher in front of it. 

Buck puts a skillet on the other burner, drizzling some olive oil in it and turning the burner on.

“Okay, Chris. Stove rules.”

Chris nods. “The oil will get hot and might splash me. If I get uncomfortable I tell you. Anything that touches the stove or the stove top should be considered too hot to touch. Please don’t make you guys take me to the hospital.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Buck gives Chris another high five. “10/10. Go ahead and ask your dad for the heavy cream and about two tablespoons of butter.”

Chris nods, Eddie hands over the ingredients, and Buck drops the onions and garlic into the warm oil, stirring them around slowly.

“When do we know the onions are done?” Buck quizzes.

“When they’re translucent.”

“When can you add the cheese?”

“You usually do it in parts, melting it into the heavy cream and butter slowly.”

“Yes, sir. Go ahead.”

Chris dumps some of the parmesan into the pot, squints at it, and deems it acceptable. He repeats the same process with the mozzarella, Eddie transferring the bags and rubber spatula between them as needed.

They work in silence for a while, each checking the other’s work, Chris adding more cheese as he pleases.

“I think you’re ready for the bell peppers and broccoli, Buck.”

“I think you’re right. How long do I cook them for?”

“Not long. We still want them kind of crispy.”

“Right! I’m just going to steam them for a few minutes, until that broccoli turns a pretty green.”

Chris giggles. “I think the cheese sauce is done.” Chris lifts the spatula out of the sauce showing a nice consistency, not too runny and not too thick.

“Looks great. Let’s put a lid on it and turn it on low to keep it warm for when we’re ready for it.”

Eddie turns down the burner. Buck drops in the broccoli and peppers. 

“Bucky, daddy, I think I’m done.” There’s a little bit of strain in Christopher’s voice, suggesting his legs are starting to hurt. 

“You’ve done a great job, Chris. You totally earned your rest.”

Eddie helps him down. “You wanna go stretch some buddy?”

Chris nods. “I think that would help. Will you do them with me, dad?”

Eddie pretends to contemplate. “I suppose I could use some stretching as well. You okay in here, Buck?”

Buck nods, removing the vegetables from the burner. “You bet. Don’t get too wild in there.”

Chris giggles, stepping down and grabbing Eddie’s hands to help into the living room. Eddie gives him a glance, eyebrow raised - are you sure you’re okay in here?

Buck rolls his eyes and nods - of course, I’m good, go .

Eddie nods, leaving Buck to his chicken. Buck grabs another pan to cook the chicken and sausage and starts the water for the pasta. He tosses the chicken in some herbs and seasoning while the pan heats up with more oil and listens to Eddie and Chris moving around, talking, and laughing with each other.

He needs to watch that heady feeling around stoves. Then again he doesn’t feel this way around his stove. Unless the Diazes are there too.

Chris and Eddie come back in as Buck is stirring the cooked pasta, veggies, chicken, sausage and sauce together in a large Pyrex dish, covering it with some bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. Eddie had accidently asked Bobby if Pyrex was a necessity or a preference and Bobby had gone into an entire spiel about the special properties of Pyrex versus regular glassware versus some of the garbage they produced now. Eddie had regretted that question for weeks.

“Mmmm. Smells good, Buck.”

Buck beams at Christopher. “Thanks, bud! We worked real hard on it didn’t we?”

Christopher nods. “When is it gonna be ready?”

Buck pops the dish in the oven

“About 45 minutes. We want that top nice and crusty. You feel better now?”

Chris leans into Buck’s side. Buck lifts Chris into his arms and Chris snuggles into him.

He needs to watch that heady feeling when he’s holding a child. Then again Harry and Denny aren’t this bad. Just Christopher.

And Eddie wraps his arms around them both. Just enjoying a quiet, peaceful moment. 

Chris squirms a bit, a silent request to be freed. Buck and Eddie place simultaneous kisses on each side of his head before separating. Chris goes back to homework and Buck and Eddie start the washing up.

Everyone is finished with their respective tasks by the time the timer goes off, Chris cheering in excitement. Buck grabs the perfectly cooked pasta bake out of the oven, turning the oven off and placing the dish on a trivet on the table. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.”

Eddie grabs plates and cutlery and a serving spoon, bringing them to the table. Buck can’t help the beaming smile he gives Eddie. Eddie’s returning smile is so fond it makes him light headed. 

Yeah, Buck could get used to this.

Hell, he already is.

Oops.

Buck is surprised when Eddie dresses in his formal uniform when Buck does for his meeting with HR, the union, and Bobby.

“Uh, Eds? Whatcha doin’?”

Eddie gives him the side eye. “Coming with you, dumbass.”

Buck is just a little flabbergasted. “Are they even gonna let you in?”

Eddie shrugs. “Nah, I already met with her. I’m just there for if they need clarifications on our statements. And for you.”

“Our statements? Met with her? Eddie, what did you do?”

Eddie smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

They bicker and Buck begs for clues all the way to HQ. When they park Eddie turns to him. “Fine, you worry wort. I had my own discussion with HR and the union rep about where my partner was . And I made a bit of a fuss about how you felt in the office all the time so don’t be shocked if they bring that up.”

“Eddie. What?”

“It’s part of my job to stick up for you. Especially when you won’t do it for yourself. It’s part of having your back.”

“Eddie.” Buck can hear the wonder and devastation in his voice.

“I promised.” Eddie’s voice is steely and tender.  “Other than that, we’re all in your corner.”

“I’m sure HR is in FD’s corner.”

“And FD wants you bad.”

God, Buck can only hope.

“Promise.”

Goddamn him. “I get it okay? You can stop that.”

Eddie grins. “Not a chance.”

Eddie gets out of the car, Buck following. Eddie strides into the building like none of this is a big deal and Buck tries to imitate him but his anxieties are getting the better of him. They stop at the elevators and Eddie wraps his fingers around Buck’s pulse point, circling Buck’s wrist, and Buck focuses on slowing his heart rate. For Eddie if not for himself. Tricky, lovely bastard.

“Relax, Buck. It’ll all be okay. Or we’ll transfer.”

“Eddie I-”

“I already said it was a done deal.”

Eddie uses Buck’s wrist to tug him into the elevator. It’s calming, steadying, the presence of Eddie’s fingers over his pulse point. He gives a squeeze and lets go as the elevator deposits them on their floor. And there’s Hen and Chim and other friendly faces from A, B and C shifts. Hen and Chim engulf him in a hug while the others look on encouragingly. Like they really are all in his corner. 

Buck turns, incredulous, to Eddie. “Did you do this?”

Eddie shrugs but Chim pipes up. “He didn’t have to do much. Just ask around. Ask if we want you back, if we know the hold up, how we came back after accidents and big events.”

Anderson from B shift speaks up. “I’ve used PTO multiple times after earthquakes and most recently the tsunami. I find all the therapy and decompression time really helpful after witnessing all that trauma. Never had any issues with judgement or scheduling.”

Buttress from A shift stands up. “I was mugged a couple years ago. Put me in the hospital for a good minute but as soon as the doctors cleared me I had no problem getting back to work. And I broke my leg and my arm pretty badly so I had to recertify too but that was it.”

Zeshiels from C shift walks up to them. “There are certain meds we keep on the truck for my seizures. I don’t do rope rescues or clear buildings because it’s just too big a risk but I’m good at everything else. I had to fight a bit to get put in a house but if I can do it with a seizure disorder I can’t imagine…”

She’s cut off by Buck’s big bear hug that lifts her off the ground. 

“Buckley, you dolt, put me down.”

He does, gently. “Thank you, Maria.” He releases all but an arm around her shoulder. “Thank you all of you. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

Zeshiels shrugs under his arm. “We wouldn’t be here without your boy.”

Eddie is blushing slightly and if Buck had less self control he would kiss him but instead he gives Zeshiels one last shoulder squeeze then gives Eddie a big bear hug, lifting him off the ground too.

“Jesus, Buck, warn a guy.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Buck. Now put me down.”

The union rep Buck has been speaking to, Eliza Shern, chooses that moment to step off the elevator, eyebrow slightly raised and lips quirked in amusement as Buck just drops Eddie and he stumbles a bit with a glare. 

“Firefighter Buckley, Firefighter Diaz, Firefighter Zeshiels. Pleasure to see you all again.” She eyes the hallway of firefighters. “I thought I told you all your written statements were more than sufficient for this meeting.”

“You did, in fact, mention that, Ms. Shern. However, we were not expressly forbidden from showing Firefighter Buckley our support in person and being available for follow up questions,” Anderson says with a slight shit-eating grin.

Shern rolls her eyes. “And I would never dare to try. That’s why I love working with you guys.” Her smile is fond and easily shared. She sobers. “Firefighter Buckley, are you ready?”

Buck looks at Eddie. “We’re all right here. Rooting for you. Promise.”

Eddie reaches out his wrist. Buck bumps it with his own. It’s exactly the reassurance he needs.

Bobby steps off the elevator. Shern gives everyone some nods. “Shall we?” She gestures to the open door of the conference room.

All in all, the meeting is pretty boring. The HR rep, Stacey Carelles, asks questions of both of them. They go over medical reports and the statements from others and finally they ask the big question.

“Captain Nash, it seems the only reason Firefighter Buckley isn’t back on active duty is because of your recommendation. Care to explain your reasoning?”

Buck watches Bobby, curious. 

“I can. I’m afraid it’s personal in nature.”

Silence reigns, everyone obviously waiting for Bobby to elaborate.

“I get it.” All heads turn to Buck. “I know that I can be too much and the blood thinners just make it worse. But you could have told me that you didn’t want me. I could have requested a transfer. It’s not like I’m not used to it.”

Shern looks pissed and Bobby looks devastated.

“Buck. No. That’s not- that’s not at all what I meant.”

“Well what do you mean, Bobby? You’ve got Bosko. You’ve ‘traded your B’s around.’ Let her get used to being a real member of the team before her nameplate came in. Let her know how it looks, how it feels.”

It’s unprofessional, this rant, but the floodgates are open. And he can’t close them.

“Buck, no. I just… I can’t see you hurt again.”

“That’s not your decision, Bobby, it’s mine!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Shern jumps in. “Alright, gentlemen, let’s dial it back.”

They both take some deep breaths. 

“Buck. Freddie was aiming for me. And he hurt multiple members of my team. He almost killed several of you. You especially.”

Buck is silent. Maddie has gone over this and Eddie has too, but it’s different hearing it from the horse’s mouth. “You have to know how dangerous this desk job is.”

Bobby’s jaw drops. “No… you haven’t… you’re okay right?”

Buck snorts. “Of course I’m not okay. Everyone resents me for the extra field time, the noisy walking desk, the special treatment. The department has done everything to accommodate me except override you.”

Shern jumps in. “Which is something I would like to address, at some point.”

The HR rep, Carelles, nods. “I have a report from Firefighter Diaz detailing some of the issues mentioned just now.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I never should have kept you from your house, your job. It was selfish and cowardly and, while you shouldn’t, I ask your forgiveness anyway.”

“Firefighter Buckley, how would you like to proceed?”

He wants to go home. He wants his fire house, his fire family back. “I want to return to the 118. But not if this is going to continue to be an issue.”

Carelles nods. “We have some measures to help with that. First is mandated therapy for both of you. Second is for the station’s lieutenants to hold Captain Nash accountable for any hint of discrimination against you.”

“Is the therapy completely necessary?”

Carelles nods again. “You both went through something monumentally traumatic and it’s a wonder we don’t have policies for this to begin with. This is a corrective action we are taking as a department to make sure every firefighter in LAFD has the resources and tools needed to adequately cope and process the trauma you see on a regular basis. With heavy suggestion if needed.”

Bobby nods. “That sounds reasonable.”

Carelles turns to Buck. “Firefighter Buckley, do you feel comfortable returning to the 118 under these conditions?”

Buck nods. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Shern beams and Bobby looks both tense and relieved.

“Very well. How does the start of the next roster sound?”

Buck nods. “Only if Bobby is sure.”

Bobby makes eye contact with him. “Yes, Buck, I’m sure. We’ve missed you around the house.”

Buck struggles to keep the tears from spilling out in sheer relief. “I have one request then.”

Carelles nods. “And what would that be?”

“I’m a little uncomfortable around therapists so I would appreciate it if Bobby and I could go together. I think it would help us too.”

Carelles looks troubled. “Do you want to elaborate?”

Buck shifts uncomfortably. “First of all, I was going through a phase but when I saw Dr. Welles, we ended up having intimate relations instead of a session.”

Carelles looks thunderous. “You mean to tell me, a department therapist consented to sex with vulnerable patient in her office on your time?”

Buck shrinks. “Yes?”

Carelles barely manages to school her face into something less frightening. “Captain Nash, did you know about this?”

Bobby is pale. “No, no I did not. Buck I’m so sorry. I sent you to her-”

“And I was going through a phase. It’s fine. It was fine.”

Shern places her hand on his. “Thank you for telling us, Buck. But it’s not fine. It’s unethical and cause for a suspension of her license at the very least.”

Carelles makes a note. “There will be an investigation and she will most certainly not work for the department anymore.”

“As for Firefighter Buckley’s request?” Shern asks.

“Granted,” Carelles replies. “It might even be more beneficial that way.”

Buck and Bobby share a tentative smile.

This might actually turn out okay.

Bobby turns to Carelles. “I would like to issue a formal apology to Firefighter Buckley.”

Carelles waves him forward. 

Bobby pulls a paper from his pocket. “Firefighter Buckley is an excellent and outstanding member of the 118 and I was biased against him in keeping him from his house and his job. I was wrong and discriminatory towards a firefighter who has survived a bombing, blood clots, and a tsunami. He is a braver man than me to come back to work and I will gratefully welcome him back to the 118, provided he is comfortable with returning to my command.”

Bobby hands the paper he was reading from to Carelles and she tucks it in a folder.

Buck stands and walks over to Bobby, who stands as well.

Buck envelops him in a big hug.

“Thank you, Bobby.”

“I’m sorry, kid. I really am.”

“You’re nothing like Phillip. He’s never once apologized.”

Bobby hugs him tighter.

Buck steps into the hallway with all the t’s crossed and i’s dotted.

He lifts his arms high in the air in a victory pose. 

A loud cheer erupts through the hallway and they start hugging and congratulating him, welcoming him back with enthusiasm that Buck feels overwhelmed by. 

Eddie is the last, relaxed against a wall, waiting patiently for everyone else to be done with him. He gets a special hug from Eddie, not that any of Eddie’s hugs don’t feel special. 

“Congratulations, Buck. I can’t wait to have your back.”

“I can’t wait to have yours.”

They pull apart.

“Thanks for calling that night.”

“Thanks for being there for us.”

“Always.”

“You promise?”

There’s a smirk on Eddie’s face. But it’s a little insecure. “I promise.” And Buck can’t help himself this time. He leans in and kisses Eddie. Soft. Quick. Sure.

Buck leans back, just a little bit, to give Eddie some space. “Fucking finally” whispers across his lips and Eddie is leaning back in for another soft kiss and Buck could not be happier.

“Eddie, are you sure?”

Eddie rubs his nose against Buck’s. “I’ve been falling for you since Christopher said he loved you.”

“Key to your heart.”

“As if he doesn’t have yours too.”

“Couldn’t deny it if I wanted to.”

They share a smile and each other’s breaths and another small kiss. 

“You promise? You’re sure?”

“Eddie. This is the surest thing I’ve ever known. There’s just about nothing I wouldn’t promise you, anyway.”

The next kiss is just a smile pressed against his lips. 

“How’s that purgatory feeling now?”

“Like heaven, actually.”

He has all of his family back and together.

It’s been promised.