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The door to the Diaz house shuts like a whisper but to Eddie, it may as well have slammed with the way it makes his ears ring.
His son is gone.
His son is gone.
Christopher is gone.
His son. His heart. His soul has just stepped out of their front door and out of his life.
Eddie is already crying, he’s been crying since before he said goodbye. Christopher had barely looked at him, even as he’d knelt, pouring his heart out to the person he loved more than he’d ever thought possible.
Christopher had never been planned, and becoming a father had scared Eddie to death, more than being shot at in an active warzone. War had never been easy, war had been traumatic, and sometimes, in the very quietest moments, Eddie thinks he still hears the bullets whizzing around him. But, war was something he understood. War was simple. You’re shipped off to a corner of the world you never had any place being and you point your gun at whoever the government tells you to. You don’t have to think, you don’t have to feel. You’re a weapon and nothing else matters.
While it had sometimes felt like a war, especially with Shannon, parenthood was different. Suddenly, you are in charge, without a commanding officer telling you where to go, when to eat, when to sleep. Suddenly, you are in charge of another human being, a fragile bundle completely dependent on you.
Christopher was Eddie’s little bundle. The moment Eddie first laid eyes on him, he knew he could never love anyone as much as he loved the little boy wrapped in a blanket, crying his poor little lungs out. Christopher had been so tiny, so fragile, and so, so strong. Even after the CP diagnosis, the countless doctor’s appointments, and the numerous surgeries, his little boy had come out the other side with a large grin on his face. Eddie has never met another person so strong. He may not have been there for the first years of his son’s life, something he will always regret no matter how much he tells himself he did it for his family, but he’d been there every moment since, ever since the ink had dried on his discharge papers, and he’d hugged his son like he’d never let him go.
Eddie’s arms feel empty. Eddie’s arms feel empty and it hurts, it hurts more than the bullet that had nicked his shoulder all those years ago. A bullet can’t compare to the raw, visceral pain of his heart being torn out of his chest. Eddie would take a thousand bullets if it meant he didn’t have to feel the agony, sharp and electric under his skin.
His legs buckle at the hand on his shoulder, large and steadying in the rip currents that threaten to pull him under. Frank had once described grief like the ocean; powerful and gentle, ebbing and flowing with each passing moment. Eddie had never really understood what he meant. Eddie had grieved Shannon, of course he had. She had been his wife, Christopher’s mother, but it had felt different at the time, muted behind the wall of concern for Christopher. Now, the waves are unrelenting, like a 50ft tsunami crashing over him, drowning him as he tries to hold on. But, his arms are empty and there is nothing to hold onto.
The hand on his shoulder doesn’t budge, the thumb rubbing back and forth comfortingly. Eddie leans his head against it, chasing his anchor. His vision starts to fuzz at the edges as Eddie loses himself in the waves of grief battering against him. Christopher has never been further from him, further than when their only contact was via a sputtering internet connection from the middle of the sandbox.
Eddie’s world tilts on its axis as he’s pulled into a strong embrace, large arms tugging him in close. The thumb stroking his shoulder returns to his neck, continuing its soft circles and for a moment, Eddie just stands there, his mind hazy.
‘Breathe, Eddie, you have to breathe…’ Soft words, whispered gently in his ear break through the roaring in his head, and Eddie follows them like the lifeline they are.
He gasps, gulping great lungfuls of air like a man drowned, copying the deep, slow breaths of the chest he’s pressed against rising and falling.
For the first time since Chris walked out of the door, Eddie feels, actually feels the presence of his best friend. Buck’s arms are wrapped around him, warm and solid when all he feels is turmoil.
‘That’s it, just breathe, I’ve got you.’
It takes Eddie a moment to realise that the harsh sobbing is coming from him. He tries to stop, but all that does is make him cry harder. His sobs are loud and ugly, and if his neighbours were in, they probably would have heard them; the primal scream of a father begging for his son to return. Tears cascade down his face, soaking Buck’s shirt, but his friend either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care and keeps hugging him, gripping him tighter as if he were holding the very pieces of Eddie together.
‘I’ve got you…’ Buck’s words never leave that quiet, whispered cadence and Eddie lets them guide him back to shore. He sinks in Buck’s embrace and lets Buck guide his head into the crook of his neck. ‘Is this ok?’ Buck asks hesitantly.
Eddie sighs, ‘Just… hold me…’
The hand not resting on the crown of his head rubs soothingly up and down Eddie’s back and Eddie fists the back of Buck’s shirt in return, returning the hug as best he can. They stay like that for what might be minutes or hours, Eddie’s perception of time gets lost as he soaks in Buck’s presence, listening to the calming beat of his heart.
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ It’s the first proper sentence Eddie has managed to force out of his chest and Buck’s returning chuckle rumbles through his chest.
‘You’ll always have me, Eddie. I’ll have your back if you have mine.’ Eddie is suddenly thrust back in time, six years ago, having just pulled a live grenade out of a man’s leg with Buck, brave, determined, and maybe a little reckless Buck at his side. It’s that same conversation, repeated right back at him and it makes warmth blossom in his chest.
Buck has him. Buck always has him.
Buck is always there for him, even when he doesn’t know he needs him. He’s been there through every stumble, every fall, a steadying force ready to lift him up when he’s down. Buck’s been there for him more than anyone has before, more than Shannon, more than his parents, more than any of his girlfriends. Speaking of –
‘Don’t you have a date tonight?’
Buck jolts, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He takes a step back and Eddie instantly misses his warmth pressed against him. He tilts his head and stares at Eddie, his eyes, eyes that Eddie knows intimately peering into his own, searching through his mind as easily as a book.
‘You need me.’ Buck answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Why is Eddie pushing? He doesn’t want Buck to leave, he wants to be back in his arms, where it’s safe. Because Buck is his anchor and he loves him.
Oh.
Oh.
The realisation hits him right in the chest, and for a moment, he’s breathless again. He loves Buck. No, it’s more than that. He’s in love with Buck. God, he’s in love with his best friend, his bisexual, very taken best friend. Eddie wants to spiral, he wants to run away, he wants to dive back into Buck’s arms and never leave.
He doesn’t do any of those things. He stands there, his eyes locked with Buck’s.
Buck sighs, ‘Tommy and I want different things, our date last night proved it. I-’ He takes another breath. ‘I left him.’
I left him. The words bounce around in Eddie’s head. I left him. I left him. I left him. He tries to ignore the hope fluttering in his chest, tries to suppress the happiness he feels because Tommy is out of the picture.
‘Oh, Buck.’ His hand, trembling slightly, reaches out and all of a sudden their positions are reversed. Eddie is pulling Buck into a hug and Buck lets out a shuddering breath.
‘I don’t know why I’m not more upset.’
Eddie pauses, his hand rubbing Buck’s back stilling. ‘You’re not upset?’
‘No.’ Buck steps back again and sits on Eddie’s couch. ‘I should be, right? I mean, he was my boyfriend. We had fun. I liked him.’
‘But, you didn’t love him.’ Eddie sits down next to Buck and wraps his arm around his shoulders. ‘There’s nothing wrong with not loving someone.’
Buck huffs, ‘I know that. I just thought it would be different, you know?’
‘Different how?’ Eddie prods.
‘I don’t know! Different! I thought I’d feel different about him, I thought I’d be able to connect with him, especially because he’s a first responder too, but –’
Buck drops his head into his hands.
‘It’s because you care more.’ The words tumble out of Eddie’s mouth before he can really think about them.
Letting his hands drop, Buck glances up at Eddie. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Tommy, he’s a decent guy, but he’s not exactly the dating type. More of a perpetual bachelor, you know? Likes having a bit of fun with a cute guy before moving on. You though…’ Eddie pauses, ‘You’ve had your fun, Buck 1.0, right? You’ve changed since then. Well, not really changed, you just let go of the frat boy façade. You fall harder, you feel deeper than he does. You’ve got such a big heart.’
Eddie brings his hand to rest on Buck’s chest, right over where his heart sits. ‘And you deserve someone who sees that, someone who loves you for who you are, not the idea of you. Someone who’ll love you as fiercely as you love them.’
Eddie’s eyes feel wet as he finishes his speech. He’s trying not to cry again. He’s not sure if he could stand hugging Buck again without him knowing how he feels.
‘How do you even find that?’ Buck stares at his hands. ‘I don’t think I know how.’ The words are spoken quietly, like a confession. Eddie smiles softly, a confession of his own hovering on his tongue, his heart pounding as he makes his decision.
Eddie gently grasps Buck’s chin and tugs lightly to look the man he loves in the eye. ‘I’ve found, that the people we love the most, often find us when we least expect it.’
Buck looks up at him, his eyes wide, ‘Eddie…?’ His eyes are darting, mapping every inch of Eddie’s face like he’s trying to figure him out. Eddie knows he will. Buck knows everything about him.
Guiding Buck’s chin higher, so Buck isn’t hunched over, Eddie cups Buck’s face in his hands. He leans in, eyes on Buck’s lips. ‘Is this ok?’ He waits for a beat, two, letting Buck decide if he wants this.
‘Yeah,’ Buck breathes and closes the distance between them. Eddie’s eyes slip shut and meets Buck in the middle, kissing him softly.
Fireworks erupt around them and Eddie finally thinks he understands what love feels like. Eddie could write poems about what kissing Buck feels like; how soft his lips are, how gently they move against his, the light scrape of beard stubble, the hands on his hips, but most of all, how right it feels. Eddie wishes they could stay like this forever, wrapped up in each other.
Buck is first to pull away, panting lightly and presses his forehead against Eddie’s.
‘Evan…’ Buck’s name falls from Eddie’s lips like a benediction. It hangs between them in the silent house, a private moment for them to share. He doesn’t say I love you, he doesn’t need to. Buck’s name is a declaration of love in itself. Evan isn’t for anyone else. It’s for them, just them.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Buck whispers, his hands squeezing Eddie’s hips like he can’t bear to let him go.
Eddie hums, ‘I don’t know… but wherever we go, I want you there with me.’
Buck smiles, ‘I’d follow you anywhere.’
Their lips crash back together, hungrier this time, and in that moment, Eddie knows that everything is going to be ok. Because Buck is there with him, and when Buck is with him, nothing could ever be wrong.