Work Text:
It takes three weeks before Bobby has had enough.
“Buck!” he calls out from the loft. “My office!”
He watches as Buck backs down from the newest member of the firehouse - Hernandez, who’s only been here for a day after replacing the last firefighter Bobby recruited after the previous firefighter before him requested a transfer out of the 118 - and slinks towards his office with an angry look on his face.
Bobby sighs.
His heart hurts for the kid, of course. Losing Eddie to El Paso was rough. Maddie getting kidnapped not long after made it worse.
But regardless of whether Maddie had gotten kidnapped or not, Bobby can’t see a way that the Eddie situation wouldn’t have made Buck spiral and snap at every replacement Bobby has tried to get them.
He can’t see a way that the Eddie situation wouldn’t have made Buck fall apart.
So, when he gets into the office, shutting the door behind him, he doesn’t snap at the kid (though he probably should).
“Sit,” he says instead, gesturing to the couch he has against the wall, sitting down on it as soon as Buck sits. ”This cannot continue, Buck.”
”I’m not doing anything,” the younger man protests, though Bobby has known him long enough to know even Buck doesn’t believe it. “Ravi turned out fine when I drilled him.”
Yeah, Ravi, who has opted to stay on B-shift more often than not.
But he doesn’t say that instead saying, “You know it’s not the same. You’re terrorizing them.”
”I’m not terror-“
”Buck. Have you talked to Eddie?”
Unfortunately, he knows the answer even before Buck clams up, lips pursed and looking closer to crying and breaking down than Bobby has ever seen since…
Eddie got shot. Or since Eddie got trapped underground with no viable way to get him out.
Always Eddie.
Eddie, who Bobby knows is gradually pulling away, leaving texts and calls from Buck unanswered.
It had incensed him at first when Eddie first called him to check up on Buck after Bobby found out that Eddie hadn’t returned Buck’s call in two days.
Because why would he do that? Even if they’re 800 miles apart, they’re still best friends. They can still be a part of each other’s lives.
But when Bobby had barely refrained from screaming and asked, and Eddie had hesitantly answered with a quiet, “Maybe it’s for the best. For both of us,” Bobby had understood.
Eddie misses Buck just as much as Buck misses Eddie, and they’re both coping with being apart after being so codependent for years.
(May, if she ever got wind of this whole fallout, would probably describe their behavior as pining.)
It makes him wish they could have pushed these two together sooner. Hen and Chimney had always teased and joked about pushing Buck and Eddie into a closet, but Bobby had always shot them down before they could even pretend to plan.
Some things require time after all.
But now it's too late.
Or is it?
”H-he hasn’t texted me back. Or returned my calls,” Buck admits in a quiet murmur, so like Eddie’s admittance to Bobby over the phone a little over a week ago. “It’s been five days.”
Bobby wraps an arm around Buck’s shoulder as his son in all but blood takes a deep breath, quivering. “It feels like Abby all over again, Pops.”
It’s the closest to a confession if Bobby’s ever heard one. “Well, at least you know where he is.”
“And he’s happy there.”
That is something Bobby’s not confident in confirming because during the handful of times he’s talked to Eddie, he had a feeling Eddie’s not doing great or thriving in El Paso.
“Go talk to him, kid,” he suggests. “Properly. About everything.”
”That’s not…I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
”You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
Buck leans into him, and Bobby lets him, lending him silent support while his mind turns.
“What if I lose him even more?” Buck asks after a while, sounding so sad that it makes Bobby's heart break for him. “Maybe he'll answer soon without me doing anything. But if I go…what if he'll stop answering altogether?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
“Then go. Sort it out with Eddie and let that heart of yours decide where to go from there.”
Buck sits up, looking at Bobby like he's grown a second head, and, for a moment, Bobby wonders if he has. Because what he's essentially doing is giving Buck his blessing to leave and move if he has to, and it pains him to think about the separation if it comes to it.
Eight years. That's how long this kid has been his. To let him go now, after Buck had been the one to make them all family and after so many ups and downs and the firehouse, hurts.
But that's life, isn't it? You watch kids grow up. You watch and let them leave the nest in pursuit of their own life and happiness. You watch them create a family of their own.
He would have had to do the same had Robert Jr. and Brook survived. He has had to watch May leave the nest.
And maybe it's time for Buck too.
“Go,” he urges once again.
Buck nods, a little stiff but with utmost conviction. “Okay. I will.”
“Good.”
And as he watches Buck collect himself and leave his office, Buck can't find himself regretting letting him go.
Because all he wants is for his son to be happy.
And if they're all happy at the end, celebrating at the housewarming party of the new Buckley-Diaz household in L.A.?
Well, that's just a bonus.