Archive of Our Own

Eddie smiles down at his phone, the photo beaming back up at him filling his body with a familiar warmth, a deep-rooted love springing from his veins and tracing his skin, like a gentle touch. He traces the lines of Christopher’s smile over his screen and it’s as if he can hear his son’s laughter, feel the soft skin at the apples of Christopher’s cheeks. Chris stares at the camera, the blue gaze barely visible from how hard he’s grinning, nearly squeezing his eyes shut.

Paco sent the picture a few hours ago, sharing it in their giant family group chat, the one with Pepa and Abuela and all of Eddie’s cousins who live in Los Angeles, and Eddie’s been stuck staring at it ever since. Casually getting his phone out during his shift, opening up the chat, scrolling past the newer messages cooing over his adorable son, all to get back to that smile. There was a message sent with it, Paco and Chris wishing Eddie a nice shift while the rest of them are all out enjoying their weekend already, and it makes Eddie shake his head around a chuckle.

Truthfully, Eddie isn’t sure what he’d do without his Tia and Tio. Pepa and Paco had immediately agreed, without any question, to take care of Christopher for the weekend while Eddie’s covering a 48 hour shift. Between those two and Abuela, Christopher would be in good hands. Hands that would undoubtedly spoil his son rotten as much as possible over the next two days.

Handing over a cup of fresh coffee, Hen peers down at Eddie’s phone over his shoulder and quirks her lips at the image. “He having a good time?” She asks, and Chimney looks up for a moment, hunched over his bagel. He practically unhinges his jaw to take a giant bite, and impressively nearly finishes the whole thing while making a mess around him. Eddie catches the brief look of repulse emanating from Bobby sat beside him.

“Yeah,” Eddie responds, and after another moment staring, locks his phone.

Chris and Paco apparently started their morning out to breakfast, eating a mountain of waffles covered in whipped cream if Eddie knows his son at all, before they went to the movies. A boys trip apparently, since Pepa and Abuela had errands to run. And knowing Abuela, that definitely meant going out to get all the ingredients for Christopher’s favorite dishes for dinner. Eddie remembered Abuela doing something similar for him time and time again when he was younger, and it melts his heart to know Chris has that, too. Family. Love. Care.

After everything – after leaving Texas and a haunted house behind them, after losing Shannon between burning asphalt and a crashed car beside her, hearing her apologies over and over while she asked after Chris in her final breaths; it felt like pieces of Eddie were scattered, broken, tossed into the deep ocean while he was clinging on through sheer desperation. Scrambling to stay afloat in an endless storm, for Chris. And here his son was, finally happy, and it was all going to be okay. Every sob and tear and late night with a broken heart Eddie faced was worth it. Worth clinging on with water in his lungs, worth bruises and callouses and cuts and fractures, because Chris was smiling at the camera so widely that nothing else in the world could compare.

Bobby pointedly hands Chimney a napkin, who ignores it for a giant gulp of his coffee. “Are you still looking for childcare?” Chimney asks when he’s finished, spraying another crumb of his bagel onto the table as he wipes his hands and Bobby shudders, walking away.

Eddie sighs, rolling his shoulders and trying to ease some of the residual tension that gathers there. “When am I not looking for childcare?”

Eddie knows he’s got Pepa and Paco, he’s got and Abuela and his cousins, knows they would all do anything for Christopher if he asked, but no one can ignore the obvious. They’ve got lives too. They’ve got kids and grandkids as well as Christopher to worry about, and Eddie’s got a job that pulls him so far away, and Chris doesn’t have another parent there to mend the gap and Eddie isn’t sure how to bridge their worlds together, sometimes. And the nights when he makes it back home just a few minutes too late, when Abuela pinches his cheek and there’s hot chocolate waiting for him on the stove, but Chris is already asleep in bed, it’s like the fracture deepens.

He’s missing time, he’s missing so much. And he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

Armed with a disinfectant spray and cloth in his hands, Bobby glowers at Chimney as he clears up the mess on the table before turning to Eddie. “You’ll figure it out, Eddie, I’m sure.”

“Definitely,” Hen reassures, a tender hand on his shoulder. “Let Karen and I know if we can help.”

“Me and Athena, too.”

“Shame.”

“Chimney; swallow, then speak.”

“Sorry, Cap, I meant – same.”

Eddie grins at his team for a moment, and tips his head up to them. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. Means a lot.”

There’s always something missing. Something broken. Ever since Eddie got back from the desert, left Texas, came here. Something doesn’t fit, something is lost, and Eddie can’t figure it out.

***

“Alright then, action man, where to next?” Paco asks, his hand cupping Christopher’s shoulders as they made their way out of the movie screening. Chris apparently wanted to watch a new superhero movie, swearing he hadn’t seen it yet, but Paco watched Chris mouth along with the song during the final scene and chuckled to himself. Kid wasn’t slick at all, just his old man. Paco swore he once caught Eddie trying something exactly like that when he was Christopher’s age.

Chris was laughing again, his hair flopping over his forehead as they stood outside in the sunshine and talked about all of their favorite moments, waiting for Pepa to pick them up. Paco’s luck seemed to have run out, and he was being tasked with doing the rest of the chores that his lovely wife didn’t want to do, namely figuring out why the barbeque wasn’t working, so they were doing a swap. Paco with Chris in the morning, then Pepa with Chris in the afternoon, until it was Abuela’s turn in the evening.

It was sweet, the panicked way Eddie was so worried about leaving Chris with them at the last minute, not considering how he was dispatching his son into three very welcoming sets of hands that would stop at nothing to make their little boy smile. Paco missed it, especially with all of his own kids grown up and barely having a handful of grandkids from them yet. He was glad for the feast coming their way tonight, a way of getting everyone together. They’ll have to call Eddie to make sure he’s part of it, too, and Paco was already drafting the message in his head he’d send to guilt his children into making sure they get there on time.

There’s still so much of the day left ahead of them, maybe Chris would like ice cream next? It’s a beautiful day out, Pepa could take them to the park. Paco thinks about the nearest one from where they are, but it’s not as good as the one across town and Pepa always agrees, so maybe they could take Chris there –

“Could we go to the beach, Tio?” Chris asks, his head tilted up sweetly at him, and Paco chuckles as he taps Christopher’s nose gently.

“That, mijo, is a great idea.”

***

He stares at his leg.

It was a mottled painting of lines and crevices and distorted colors all over, telling a miserable story, a pathetic ending, and his jaw tensed.

“-van? Evan. Hey, you still there?”

He shakes out of it, the fuzzy feeling in his head ebbing away as he picks his phone back up from where he absentmindedly dropped it to his dresser.

“Sorry, Maddie. I’m here. I’m fine,” he lies, and finally gets the energy to put his pants on. Cover the sorry excuse in front of him.

“Evan, you know I know when you’re lying,” Maddie reminds him, and he snorts. “Don’t laugh at your older sister,” she warns jokingly, and Buck avoids looking in the mirror as he slowly makes his way down the loft steps.

He hasn’t been feeling much of anything since his leg got crushed in a car accident all those months ago. From the hospital bed to the cast and crutches to the physical therapy, he’s finally at a point where he can mostly manage on his own with minimal reminders of the metal stuck in his leg, keeping him up. He remembers the questions from his kids, the sympathy leaking from the other teachers, the way he’d have to shove his car door closed and breathe deeply, head tucked low and counting up and up and up until his head was clear enough to drive home from the school’s parking lot.

“I’m pretty sure my sister has better things to do than waste her lunch break calling her brother,” Buck reminds her, and he can almost feel her sigh on his face through the phone.

“Please, for me – go do something nice for yourself? It’s a beautiful day, go get a fancy iced coffee or a late lunch somewhere, anything you want, just promise me you won’t stay inside all day with the curtains drawn?” Buck looks up, scowling at the covered windows in his apartment and his omniscient sister always knowing too much. “I know you, Evan. Please.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes tiredly, and he stares at the shoes by his front door, barely used these days other than to go to work and come right back. “If you say so.”

One walk around the block. Maybe just down the street. Or he could just take the elevator down to the lobby and come back up.

There’s a soft interlude of static on the phone as they both wait the other out, and then Maddie, sweet and wonderful and loving Maddie, prods at him. Tries to pull at his shell. Crack him open, just a little. “Didn’t you mention wanting to take your kids on a class trip to the beach at the end of the year? Maybe you could go do some research or something?” She offers pointedly, and Buck scoffs.

“I don’t think a day at the beach with ice cream and a sunburn is going to make me happy again, Mads. I’m not a six-year-old anymore.”

Maddie’s silent for a moment, a heaviness in her voice when she next speaks that Buck isn’t prepared for. “So you admit it?”

“What? That I’m not a six-year-old?”

She’s quiet now. Older, somehow. “That you’re not happy.”

The space between them is vast. Pained. A jagged scar cutting between them. A lifetime of shared misery playing like a rolodex in the blink of an eye.  

Their parents. Daniel. Doug.

But there was Maddie. There was always Maddie. Maddie was always on the other end of the line.

“I-I’ll go. I’ll go out. I promise. I’m okay, Maddie.”

He forces himself to put his shoes on, narrating to Maddie the latest drama he heard from his middle schoolers, about the teachers currently hooking up. Maddie just finishes telling him about her supervisor’s divorce by the time her lunch is over, and then they’re promising to see each other soon as the phone clicks off.

And Buck’s all alone again.

A thought flutters through his head, an echoing quote from a movie he watched when he sad and lonely and lost all those years ago, back when he was ardently begging for something bigger in his life, for more than just the bleakness of his days all blurring into one with nothing to show for it. It was a desperate, hopeless idea that clung to him, that he clung to. That there will always be someone who loves you, “someone waiting at home for you,” and that’s enough to save you. That you can’t just die and be gone forever and that be the end of you, because someone will be there to find you, want you, wait for you to come home, mourn you. It was a romance movie, something where the couple ends up together in the end that makes you roll your eyes or cry into a pillow and Buck remembers that feeling welling up inside him.

But what if there is no one? What if you live your whole life and no one is waiting for you?

Buck faces the door. Doesn’t move.

He stares at his leg.

***

Eddie decided to save the picture of Chris as his new screensaver when they’re loaded up in the truck, on their way to their next call. Hen was teasing him after he pulled it up yet again, offering to show him how to make it his wallpaper in case he doesn’t know how, and Eddie mockingly laughed alongside Chimney, who snorted. He looks down at his phone to check the time, watching the little grin shine back up at him.

They’ve just finished wrapping up at their latest call, and Eddie massages his strained neck, turning enough to the side to catch Hen staring over at Chimney, her mouth opened in a half-asked question. Which is fair, considering Chimney’s stood in front of them, looking closer to a drowned cat than human being.

“What happened to you?” Hen asks incredulously, swallowing the squeak in her throat when Chimney shakes himself like a dog at them, and Eddie can’t help the squawk he lets out while they try to step away. Bobby gets hit the most by the shaken water and stares at Chimney, unimpressed.

“Hydrant went off before I could reach the mains, and now I’m a creature of the deep sea,” Chimney grumbles, blinking maniacally to get the excess water out of his eyes, and Hen barks out a laugh.

“How many are going off?” Bobby asked, staring down at the water lapping up around their ankles in the middle of the street, and Chimney pauses.

“Just the one, we closed it already though.”

Eddie’s phone buzzes in his hands and he looks down. Sees Christopher’s grin, sees it get covered.

“I don’t think it’s a hydrant,” Hen says slowly from where she’s looking at her own phone, and Eddie’s heart stops.

WARNING – EARTHQUAKE/TSUNAMI ALERT
EVENT TYPE: SEAQUAKE MAGNITUDE 7.5
LOCATION: SANTA MONICA PIER, LOS ANGELES COUNTY

Bobby’s face goes solemn as Hen reads it aloud to them all, and Chimney immediately stops shedding his wet layers to put his uniform back on, grim expression in place. Bobby pats his shoulder, and starts leading them all back to the truck.

“Might be a long day, guys. Let’s go.” They gather their gear in record time, clambering over one another in perfect disorder to get packed up. Eddie takes a quick moment to look at his phone one more time as they sit in the truck, looks down at his son, at that smile, and decides to text Pepa.

“Might be a long shift, there’s a tsunami alert, I’ll try to call around dinner if I can.” He pauses for a second, and then shakes his head.

They’re fine. Chris was at the movies with Paco, and knowing him, they’ll go to a nearby park or something. Abuela doesn’t go to the beach anymore since that seagull nearly took her snow cone from her hands, and Pepa hates clearing out sand from her shoes. Paco messaged him only a few hours ago, and they were having a nice, normal day out. Everything’s fine. It’s all okay.

But still. His fingers finish typing his message.

“Be safe.”

***

Chris loved the beach. He hadn’t been to a real big one before, the ones that have a whole boardwalk and a bunch of tourists everywhere and so many things to do all around. Dad told him they went to a few fairs in Texas when he was younger, but Chris doesn’t remember much of it. He thinks he remembers liking the rides and food and games, and that there was a lot of laughter. Chris always wanted to go to the beach though, a real beach. He wanted to touch the water, swim, finally go surfing for real. Not just the indoor waves he goes to for his lessons, but on a real wave.

He hasn’t been to the beach many times since coming to Los Angeles, but Chris loves watching the water. His dad brought him here, right when they first moved, and they both sat on the beach for hours.

There’s so much out there. The ocean’s endless like that.

He tugs on Tia Pepa’s hand, impatient as she leans back through the car window to kiss Tio Paco goodbye and then they’re waving and making their way to the entrance.

“Alright then, Christopher, where shall we start?” Tia Pepa asks, a joyful smile playing at her lips, and Chris grins at her.

“Can we go on the Ferris wheel? Or on the rides? You can get a coffee if you want or we can both have some ice cream together? Do they have cotton candy? I like the games, too! They’re hard but really fun, do you want to do them with me?” He runs out of breath and pauses to take in some much-needed air, and then Tia Pepa’s laughing loudly and ruffling his hair, leading him through the people to exactly where he wants to go.

She takes them to the Ferris wheel first and Chris bounces immediately, grabbing her hand and leading Tia Pepa to the line. “We may not be able to get through everything, but we can try, mijo,” Tia Pepa offers him as she wraps a secure arm around his shoulder in a side hug, and he ducks his head to thump it happily into her arm. She smells like sunscreen and flowers. Chris feels warm all over.

They go up so high on the Ferris wheel that for a moment Chris tries to squint his eyes to see if he can find their house from way up here, but he can’t find one with an orange tree in front, so he settles for staring out at the ocean on the other side of their seats and Tia Pepa’s smile is right there alongside the waves as she grins at him. They go on three rides before Tia Pepa says she’s getting dizzy, which is fine because then they get ice cream instead, and Chris watches Tia Pepa nearly smack a nearby seagull trying to snatch her cone from her, and it’s one of the best days ever. The only thing missing is –

“Tia Pepa? Can we get something for dad?” Chris asks, his heart thumping a little heavier.

He misses – he misses his dad. He wishes he was here. Dad would have liked doing all of this with Chris. Maybe Chris should have taken notes, that way when dad’s free they could both come together, and Chris could show him around?

He watches as Tia Pepa frowns slightly at the game in front of them, at the frog plushy that Chris points at. It’s a water gun game, just shoot into the target and the platform goes higher and higher until the time’s up, and if your toy is above the red line, you win the prize.

“I’m not sure if I can get it, but we can try together,” Tia Pepa proposes tentatively, and Chris nods energetically. They can do it! If he just sits still and concentrates, he’s sure they can get it.

Its only when they’re on their third attempts, each one so far a failure, that he feels himself dim as their chances of winning keep slipping away.

Tia Pepa’s frustrated, Chris can tell at the little line in the middle of her eyebrows, and he grabs her hand as she goes to reach for another dollar. “It’s okay, Tia. We tried,” he tries to say cheerily, but his stomach hurts a little and it’s twisted up and he feels like there’s a stone stuck in there.

Chris turns around to look one last time at dad’s present as they get up to go. It’s a plushy in the shape of a frog that has a face which is identical to the one that dad has in their kitchen at home, the one that’s bright green and has a wide-open mouth that sits on their sink and holds their sponge. Chris remembers his dad buying it with him, the little wink he threw at Chris as he told them they can have silly things in their home now. That they weren’t at grandma and grandpa’s house anymore, and they could have all their own things now. Whatever they liked. And hey, Chris, what do you think of this little guy? Should he come home with us?

It was the first thing dad got for their home that felt like it was just for them. Chris remembers how his dad smiled that whole day as they unpacked their stuff. He catches his dad’s lips flicker up whenever he does the dishes.

Chris gives the frog one last look, sighing as he turns back around, head down in the dumps. He makes his slow way over to Tia Pepa when he crashes into something right in front of him.  

“Oof!” He yelps, and feels his body bounce away and fall backways at the impact, and he can’t get his crutches behind him in time to catch his weight and he’s going to fall on the floor, he knows it, and he can’t see where Tia Pepa is but he wishes he did and then –

“I got you, kid,” a soft voice tells him, and Chris blinks. He’s not on the floor. He’s still stood up, a little awkwardly, but there’s a strong arm around him that doesn’t let go while he shuffles his crutches to get a better grip. “It’s okay, take your time,” the voice says encouragingly, and it reminds Chris of his dad talking to him when he used to walk down the steps at grandma and grandpa’s house, when they’d try to pick him up but dad would stand in front of them and wait for Chris to ask for him, for help, but he never really needed it.

Looking up, Chris gets blinded for a moment by the sun, but then the person shifts and blocks it for him so that Chris sees a flash of his blue eyes, the arm slowly coming away and the man tilts his head to the side, hand coming up in a wave.

“Hey there, you alright, buddy?” The man asks, his hair curly just like Christopher’s and then the man’s suddenly kneeling before him, a little further away but making it so Chris doesn’t have to crane his neck back to look at him, and Chris wants to ask what’s that on his eyebrow but Tia Pepa is at his side, her hand running over his hair.

“Mijo, are you okay?” She asks him firmly, worriedly. It’s not demanding or harsh or serious like when grandma asks, it’s just worried. Like dad. Like the man in front of them, too.

Chris leans into her more as he stares at the stranger kneeling next to him, watching as the man’s eyes flicker up to Tia Pepa before looking back over to Chris, smiling widely.

“I’m okay,” Chris murmurs, and the man nods enthusiastically, like he’d been hoping for that answer before he gets up slowly, carefully, like it takes a lot of effort to move around for him.

He rubs at his neck, and looks a little pink. Like the mark on his eyebrow. “Glad to hear it. Sorry I ran into you, you guys playing some games?” He asks, thumb jerked back and pointing to where they just were sat, their failed attempts at winning the frog plushy still fresh in Christopher’s mind. The man seems to be ready to clear a path for them, using his body to block the oncoming flow of people just in case, but Pepa clears her throat.

“Oh, we were, but we’re done now.” Pepa answers shortly, and Chris looks at her, feels her hand tighten slightly on his shoulder.

The man laughs, bobbing his head a few times, like a kid. “Yeah. I always get suckered into them whenever I’m here. My kids, uh, my class, at the school I work at – anyway, I think the only reason I worry about bringing them here on a school trip is because they’d badger me to win them something. Well, that and the sugar crash,” he grins, a little chuckle in his throat as he speaks with Tia Pepa and then he looks back down at Chris, and his smile seems a little softer, a little warmer, and Chris mirrors it back, a reflex.

Tia Pepa hums, nodding. “Don’t I know it –”

“Can you win that frog for us?” Chris asks, pointing directly to their game, eying up the man’s muscles. He looks like he’s as strong as dad, maybe, and dad would definitely be able to win the game for them.

Fumbling on the spot, the man looks between them both, at Tia Pepa sighing into her hand and then to Chris swaying on the spot, trying to look innocent, like when he’s asking for an extra cookie before dinner, and the man seems to hesitate.

“Well,” he starts, and then looks over at the game, peering intently. “The frog? I can try, but, um, it’s probably best for you to talk to your family first before asking things from strangers, buddy. Unless they’re an emergency professional, like a police officer or a doctor. You can ask them for help. I just mean, it’s not always safe to speak to people when you don’t know who they are –”

“Oh, okay, my name’s Chris!”

“Christopher!”

“Sorry, Tia Pepa. My name’s Christopher!”

In between Tia Pepa grumbling bad words under her breath and Chris bouncing on his feet, there’s a deep, booming laugh coming from the man’s stomach, and it sounds hearty and big and loud, and the man wipes at his eyes.

“Well, Chris, my name is Evan Buckley, but you both can call me Buck, that’s what the kids use for me. I’m a middle school teacher over at Mark Twain, in Robertson-Pico. If it’s alright with you…” He trails off, staring at Tia Pepa with wide eyes and she tips her head to the side, staring at Buck with narrowed eyes. Chris whines, leaning into her side as he looks back to Buck, pleading, praying, hoping he doesn’t leave them yet. That he’ll help them.

“Buck. Well. I’m Pepa. And – ” She looks down at Christopher’s pout, and sighs. “And we’d appreciate your help, thank you.”

Chris whoops, starting to shove them both back to the game, turning to Tia Pepa to see if she’d be okay with paying another dollar when Buck gets his wallet out and takes a stack of bills out, putting them on the stall while he leans over to check out the game.

“Oh, no, we can pay for it –”

“Hah, no way, there’s no guarantee I’ll win it! Let me just –” Buck sits down, then swivels the seat next to him so Chris can sit, and once he’s settled he looks to Tia Pepa, who waves her hand with a knowing look.

As the bored employee explains the rules, Buck turns to Chris, and winks. His eyes are really sparkly and blue, like the ocean, and Buck has the same color hair as Chris, which dad says is the prettiest color hair to have, and it makes Chris smile.

“Hey, did you know frogs were the first land animals to develop vocal cords?” Buck tells him, and Chris shakes his head.

He can’t wait to tell dad all about Buck.

***

The frog plushy is held tightly in Christopher’s arms, and Buck watches as the kid dips his nose down to smell it, no doubt the cloying scent of fried food and ocean breeze and plastic all over it. Buck beams.

Chris and Pepa paused once Buck handed over the prize to them, Christopher’s cheering loud and exuberant while Pepa shakes her head in disbelief at them. It’s silly, but Buck wants to ask if they wouldn’t mind if he tagged along, so he wasn’t so alone. So he could bask a little in their happy sunshine. Maddie’s voice floats through his head, and he tries to shake off her knowing smile and gleeful eyes he can feel peering at him as he hesitates once they’re all stood up and waiting.

“Um. So. What are you going to name this little guy?” Buck asks, holding up the frogs arm to wave it and Chris laughs, shoving away when Buck uses it to muse his hair.

Chris looks down and smiles brightly at the frog. His voice is almost reverent, a soft murmur. “It’s not mine. It’s dads.” Pepa runs a loving hand over his head as he looks back up at Buck. “Thank you. Thank you for winning this for us, Buck. I’m glad he’s going home with us.”

Buck swallows the lump in his throat, and croaks out a little weakly. “Of course. My pleasure, kid.”

The three of them pause, and Pepa breaks the silence.

“Well, we were thinking of taking a walk along the pier before we head home, watch the water for a bit. You’re welcome to join us, Buck?”

Buck looks down, sees Christopher’s big wide eyes stare at him, sees the flush on his face from the sun beaming down on them and the little smear of ice cream sprinkles on his chin. He’s clutching the plushy tightly and his glasses are falling a little down his nose, and he’s got wind dragging through his hair and his crutches are halfway to falling over but he doesn’t care. He’s just… happy.

He's a happy kid. He’s so happy and so light and it makes something in Buck crack wide open and burst out.

“Yeah, yeah. I’d really like that.”

He would. He really would.

The three of them walk down the pier, making a weird picture as they weave through crows of kids laughing and parents rushing and Pepa’s shooing seagulls away while Chris laughs. Buck’s been trusted to carry the frog, careful not to hold onto it too tight, but there’s a feeling wrapped around his chest and it’s tugging him along and Buck isn’t sure it’s a wise idea.

“You’re a teacher?” Pepa asks, and Buck nods. Chris looks up at him, barely paying attention to what’s in front of him, and both Buck and Pepa guide him around the trashcan he nearly walks into.

Buck laughs. “Yeah, have been for a few years now. Never really thought about it until it was right in my face, and then I realized it just fit me. Kids are great, always something to learn from them,” he says, peering down at Christopher, who nods at him.

“Dad says I’ve got a smart mouth,” Chris agrees and Buck bites his smile back as he hears Pepa sigh.

“What about you, Chris? What do you want to be?” Buck asks, and watches Chris think. His eyes are far away, and his face turns up to the sun, like a flower, Buck imagines, and he smiles.

Chris leans over to Buck as they walk, half-walking into him. “Astronaut, or a pirate.” There’s a bright grin on his face, his two front teeth taking up his whole smile and it reminds Buck of a kid he knew a long time ago, around that same age, who had an older sister that would bake him cookies and ruffle his hair and make him smile even when he felt like crying.

“Good choices,” Buck approvingly dips his head, and then steers Chris ahead when they get to a crowded section of the pier. “Pretty important jobs to do.”

“No! Wait,” Chris taps Pepa, and she turns her attention to him directly. “I mean, firefighter. I want to be a firefighter.” He almost looks at her pleadingly, and she laughs sweetly, nodding her head and soothing his hair down from the wind.

Buck looks at her, wondering if there’s been a conversation at home about what Chris can do when he’s older, and Buck starts to feel a wave of concern crest its way through his body until Pepa smiles and pinches Christopher’s guilty face.

“I won’t tell your father,” she promises with a wink, and Buck turns to stare at her.

“Why?” He asks bluntly, a little rudely, and they freeze in their walk as Buck plants himself in place. “Why can’t his dad know he wants to be a firefighter? There’s nothing wrong with that.” Buck’s chest expands and he feels his fingers itch, and his leg’s aching, but the pit in his stomach feels like lead when Chris looks at him with his serious expression.

“I don’t want dad to feel bad that I forgot about firefighting! I like his job, I really do. He’s the best firefighter ever!” Chris explains rapidly, his voice high and fast and loud and it clicks then, Buck gets it, and his whole body settles back down. He lets out the air in his lungs and shakes his head, laughing. Pepa tips her head as she studies him.

Buck squeezes Christopher’s shoulder as they keep making their way to the water. “I’m sure your dad would be proud of you for anything you choose to do, Chris.” Pepa’s still eying him up, and then raises a curious eyebrow at him when he looks over at her. His face feels warm as he scurries ahead to clear a pathway for them.

A couple of minutes later, they finally stand at the edge of the pier. It seems quieter here, despite the rowdy crowds around them, just feels calm. Peaceful. Just for a moment.

Just for a single moment.

Because then they look down, and the water’s gone.

“Hey –” Chris says quietly as Buck’s heart drops. Right into the soles of his feet. Beneath that, right into the sand far below them, where there’s meant to be water.

There’s an alarm blaring above them, now. All around. The people beside them become a frenzy, and there’s shouting from all angles. It’s instantly dizzying.

Buck glances at Pepa, who’s mouth is parted in incredulity before she grabs at Christopher’s shoulder furiously, and Buck doesn’t think. Doesn’t hesitate.

“– where did –”

Pepa’s got Chris’ crutches in one hand, his backpack now slung over her shoulder beside her handbag, and she tries to take Christopher’s hand in hers but Buck’s already thinking ahead, already grabbing Chris and throwing him over his shoulder, using his other hand to guide Pepa ahead and steer her around the crowd.

“– all the water –”

They’re running, racing away from the pier but it’s so long, so deep and far and Buck’s brain is racing through every terrible thing that could happen. He could trip, stumble, drop Chris, lose Pepa, his leg – fuck, his leg. He can’t think like that.

Run. Get off the pier.

There’s so many people, so many kids. What are they going to do? Chris. Pepa. A thousand thoughts swarm his head and Buck feels his breathing spike. They can’t outrun a tsunami. Because that’s what that meant. All the water, the wave heading their way, what can they do? Maddie. He needs to tell Maddie where he is, she’ll be worried, where does he take Pepa and Chris? He just has to –

“ – go?”

***

Water. Dark. Hurts.

It hurts, it hurts. His heart can’t stop racing. Why is everything so loud? Where is everyone?

Where did Tia Pepa go?

Buck? Buck was carrying him, Buck yelled something to Tia Pepa and then he tucked Chris against a stall, covered him with his body while throwing his arms over Tia Pepa’s head beside them and then there was –

Water. Dark. Hurts.

Which way is up? He can see a light, but he doesn’t know how to get there.

Scared. Chris is scared. He just wants his –

Dad.

Where’s dad? Dad will come, dad will save him, dad won’t let anything hurt him and Chris would really like to see his dad now, please, please he’s scared and he can’t see Tia Pepa or Buck or move and –

A hand catches him. Covers his arm like a bruise, like a band aid. Tugs him up from where he was lost in the water.

“Christopher!” Tia Pepa yells, and she clings to him. They’re holding onto a streetlight but the water’s too fast and it’s too slippery and the last thing Chris saw was the wood of the stall that Buck pulled them into and how there wasn’t enough room for Buck to get cover with them and now he’s gone and –

Chris tries not to cry.

He keeps his head up, and thinks about what his dad would say.

“It’s going to be okay, kid.”

It’s going to be okay.

Pepa’s got Chris pushed firmly into the streetlight, her body covering his and it means he doesn’t have to work as hard to hold on anymore, but the water’s still racing onto them. It’s still pushing and pushing and Pepa’s breathing heavily, and Chris looks around.

There’s a flash of red. A hand out of the water. Reaching up. Clinging on. Then a voice –

“Christopher? Pepa?”

Chris doesn’t cry. He wants to, though.

“Here!” He screams back, wanting to wave but knowing he can’t without slipping away. “We’re here, Buck!”

Over the racing water, somehow, Buck hears them. He turns immediately, and then his face opens up and the scrawl of fear on it turns into something else. The look his dad gets sometimes when grandma and grandpa call him, when there’s yelling on the other side of the phone.

“Stay there! I’m coming to you!”

Pepa yells at him, tells him to stop, to just hold on where he is, but Buck’s already letting go from the hanging streetlights to come to them, and Chris feels Pepa shudder as they watch Buck swim, diving under the water and coming close to them, so close, inches away – but not close enough.

“Buck!” Christopher screeches as Buck drifts away from them, a horror stabbing his heart because what if they lose Buck? What if he came back just to go again?

But Buck tells him to stay put, tells him it’s okay.

They’re going to be okay. Chris sags into Pepa’s arms, who ducks her head into Christopher’s head and murmurs a prayer.

Buck’s turning around from where he’s glided past them, swimming against the current and then pulling himself onto a truck, a firetruck, where the roof is still above water.

“I can’t hold on,” Pepa calls out, desperate and gasping and Christopher’s eyes water. He doesn’t want to cry, but he’s scared. He’s so scared, he wants dad, he wants to go home and see dad and –

Buck pulls himself all the way out of the water and then turns to them, arms open.

“Let go,” he tells them. Pepa tightens her arms and Chris doesn’t have enough strength to look at her, but he thinks he feels her shake her head.

Buck nods at them. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

They let go.

Tia Pepa wraps her arms around Chris as the current takes them, and she tries to swim closer to Buck but they struggle. There’s a moment Chris worries that they’ll just go right past Buck but he doesn’t let that happen, he leans out and swoops into the water and then they’re forcibly pulled out of the current, dragged onto the top of the truck. Chris tries to breathe but it’s hard, it hurts still and Pepa’s coughing beside him as her arms tighten around him again.

Buck’s setting them down gently, careful of their heads. His hand rests on Christopher’s neck, settling on his nape, and his other is on Tia Pepa’s forearm. They both gasp for air for a moment while Buck leans over them.

“It’s okay, you’re both okay,” Buck says, slightly out of breath, and Chris thinks they all must feel the exhaustion weighing down their bones.

It’s going to be okay, kid.

Chris crawls over to be closer to Buck and Tia Pepa joins him. Buck’s hand tightens and it feels solid on his neck, makes him feel safe. Chris turns and rests his forehead on Buck’s chest, his nails catching in Tia Pepa’s shirt as he hangs on.

“Dad,” Chris murmurs, and Buck sighs lowly.

“We’ll get you back to your dad, Chris. I promise.”

***

Eddie pushes through, the water seeping into everything. He feels exhausted, and can hear the chorus of cries all around him like a symphony, a tragedy, screams echoing in the water, dead bodies floating helplessly, but he forces his eyes open and pushes through. There is a sinking feeling in his stomach, screeching out into the void as the cell towers remain down, as he looks at his phone and worries how much time is passing, worries that he missed dinner, will miss saying goodnight to Chris, hopes they had a good day, that they don’t watch the news, that Eddie can hear his son’s voice soon.

Hen’s not fairing much better, and Bobby’s hand wavers slightly as it rests on her shoulder. Chimney steps in more, keeping them together when it’s easier to fall apart, because there’s always another person to help. Another body to check on. Another boat to take, another life to keep together.

His son’s grin seems bleaker, all of a sudden. His phone battery is dying. Eddie forces himself to be fine.

Everything’s fine.

“Last wave’s come through, that makes six total,” Bobby tells them, and Eddie’s so tired. “That should be it, team. Let’s keep going. We’ll make it home.”

Chris is at home, he’s sleeping in a warm bed and with a full stomach.

Everything’s fine.

“If you read: 118, we need backup at the Santa Monica Pier. Please send any assistance you can spare.”

***

“You guys okay?” Buck asks, and Chris smiles from the curve of Buck’s neck, where he’s been tucked in to rest. It’s uncomfortable on the truck’s roof, cold and wet and harsh metal digging into them, so Pepa helped Chris sit up and on top of Buck, leaning on his chest.

“All good. Dad made me take surfing lessons,” Chris tells him, and Pepa lets out a breathy sigh of relief as she pushes her hair from her face.

“That he did, good idea, too,” she grins, and Buck looks down, eyes glittering.

“Told you,” Buck says, and Chris frowns.

“Told me what?”

“There’s always something to learn from kids,” Buck chuckles. “Should I take some surfing lessons?” He asks, and Chris nods enthusiastically, telling Buck he can join his class and they can learn together and –

He’s one of the bravest kids Buck’s ever met, Christopher. He’s smiled and laughed and asked Pepa if she’s okay when her foot slipped earlier on the truck roof, and it’s been a long time now that they’ve huddled together on the truck, but Chris hasn’t complained once.

His dad’s done a great job, Buck thinks, and then he realizes how lucky Christopher’s dad is to have him.

“Help!” A voice cuts through their calm, and Buck looks up. He gently guides Chris up with him, Pepa reaching out and taking his place to be Christopher’s cushion as Buck stands.

“Help me!” Another voice adds, and Buck sees an arm in the water waving to them. A girl, and her dad. They’re both clinging to a signpost up ahead, and stare at Buck as they yell.

Buck looks down. Sees Chris and Pepa watch him. Looks back at the people in the water.

“Stay there,” he yells, and steps forward to the edge of the truck. “I’ll come to you!”

“Buck?” Chris asks immediately, and Buck kneels in front of him, helping him lean back more comfortably into Pepa’s arms. Lean back, so he can’t watch the water.

“Don’t you worry, buddy, I’m going to be right back, okay? You two sit tight for me, and don’t go anywhere. Okay?”

“Be careful, Buck,” Pepa says, uneasiness lacing her words, and Chris just grits his teeth, nodding bravely.

Buck shoves the truck’s ladder up ahead and onto a nearby car, grabbing the firehose over his shoulders and clutching onto a tree to hold himself as he crawls across to the car’s roof.

“Hey!” A shriek comes from beneath him, and Buck looks down. A man’s in the car, eyes wide and terrified as Buck’s weight rocks the car. “Please, get me out of here!” Right after his plea comes the girl’s scream again, her grip slipping in the water as her dad tugs her closer to him.

“I will come back for you, I promise.” Buck reaches through the open window to clasp the man’s shoulder as he sags in his seat, nodding furiously.

“Okay, please. Please, hurry.”

Diving into the water, Buck makes his way across the street and ties the firehose on the tree on the other side, looping the hose through and tugging it secure around his meager knot. He looks up, and locks eyes with the dad as the girl in his arms sobs.

“Let go! You can do this, just let go!”

The dad pulls his daughter to him and lets his grip go slack, the two of them tumbling in the rough water just like Pepa and Chris did, and Buck swims down the line to where he thinks they’ll meet him, reaching out and getting them both to hold onto the line with him. The father grabs onto it first, keeping his daughter tucked in one arm and then they move along the line, towards the firetruck.

“Up you go, climb up, you got this, it’s okay,” Buck commands in a flurry, helping the girl up and into Pepa’s waiting arms as the dad follows behind.

The dad turns, and then frowns at Buck as he goes back into the water. “What the hell are you doing? Get back here!” He’s leaning an arm down, reaching for Buck to pull him out, but Buck points at the man trapped in his car.

“He needs help,” Buck yells over the water, and watches the dad notice the other man. The dad leans down on the truck, kisses his daughter’s head once, twice, and then moves over to the ladder, resting over and on the car.

“What do you need me to do?” He asks Buck, and Buck exhales.

Up ahead, a swarm of people start swimming down the current, and Buck swallows as he hears Chris call his name. Looking over, Chris is leaning over the truck and pointing at the people calling for help in the water, and Buck nods at him.

They’ll be okay.

Buck tugs the line taut, yelling at people to hold on as Pepa waves her arms at them, and then he gets to work on getting the man out of the car, the dad leaning an arm out to help catch the man as he escapes from the window and tumbles into the water.

They’ll be okay.

He thinks of Maddie, thinks of his kids at school, thinks of Chris and Pepa and the frog plushy they lost that belonged to a beloved father.

And he thinks that he needs to do whatever he can to make sure they see him again tomorrow.

They’ll be okay.

***

“I spy? That’s for kids,” Chris complains, and Buck laughs loudly. The other people sat around them look up, some too tired move their heads, others curiously watching. The daughter is passed out on her dad’s shoulder, who holds her close as he chats to the man who was trapped in the car. Two women are huddled together, and they periodically cackle at some story or another they tell the others, and it makes an older man sat across from them snort so loudly it woke up a teenager leaning on his mom.

Chris waited for Buck to come back to them. He was helping so many people get onto the truck, or onto the nearby cars, going back out to make sure the hose wasn’t coming loose, and now he’s back, and Chris gets to lean on him and keep him safe and he says he wants to play a game.

Tia Pepa gives him a warning look, and Chris turns to her. “What?”

“You are a kid,” Buck points out, and Chris pouts.

“Alright, well I spy something that moves people around,” Tia Pepa offers, the teenager now sitting up and looking around as he plays, and Chris tilts his head, instantly looking around himself.

There are cars, but that’s too obvious. He squints into the water, and spots it.

“A scooter?” He asks hesitantly, and Tia Pepa’s face blooms into a smile.

“That’s one point to you, Chris,” she cheers, high fiving him, and Chris grins. The teenager grimaces, and his mother chuckles under her breath as she rubs his arm. Chris stares at them for a moment before Buck’s voice reaches him.

“Alright then, genius, your turn.”

“Shopping cart!” Chris yells out, and Tia Pepa laughs. The two woman pause in their story to smile at them.  

Buck splutters. “Wait a minute, you’re not meant to shout out the answer! I’m meant to guess, too,” he pouted, and Chris shook his head.

“Nope, that’s another point for me.”

Tia Pepa shrugged as Buck looked to her for support. Chris laughs and tips his head onto Buck’s shoulder, enjoying the soft weight of it. Buck leans back, and Chris closes his eyes for a moment.

There’s just the rocking water gently moving the truck, the voices of other people with them chatting, Tia Pepa’s hand on his leg, and Buck’s smile pressed into Christopher’s head.

“I’m really proud of you, Chris,” Buck says suddenly, and Chris opens his eyes.

“Why?” He asks, confused. Chris didn’t do anything – Buck did. Buck did everything. Buck got them out of the water; Buck got them to safety. Buck saved everyone, he made them laugh and tied the hose to the tree and helped a woman with her bleeding arm and saved the guy from his car and made the little girl stop sobbing and he – he, he got Chris the plushy. Buck saved them.

“I’ve been struggling a lot recently, finding it hard to go outside and do stuff. But you? You’ve been smiling and laughing, even after the day you’ve been through. You didn’t give up. You’re an inspiration, kid. Your dad must be so proud of you.” Buck rakes a hand over his hair, helping the sun dry it up a little, and Chris feels himself go rapidly warm all over. He wants to hug Buck then, and his dad, and he wants Abuela’s cookies and to smell Tia Pepa’s perfume that’s like flowers and ask Captain Bobby to throw him in the air really high like he used to and see his friends at school and –

“Oh, oh my –”

“Look, they’re… they’re –”

“Don’t!”

“Jesus fu-”

Buck breaks eye contact and leans up, looking over Tia Pepa’s head into the water. His face hardens suddenly, no smile, no teasing, just a blank wall and then he’s picking Chris up from the truck and turning him. He’s facing the buildings now, not the water, and Tia Pepa comes around on his other side and pats his cheek so he’s looking at her watery smile instead.

“Mijo, I spy something high in the sky.” Tia Pepa says hurriedly, and Chris sighs. Buck’s hands are on his face too, cupping his cheeks and not letting him move, same as Tia Pepa.

“A street sign?” Chris guesses, but Tia Pepa shakes her head.

“Look higher, Chris,” she urges, and Buck whispers an answer in his ear. Chris straightens up, beaming.

“The sun!”

Tia Pepa smiles, a little wobbly. “Yes, mijo, the sun. The sun,” she repeats, looking at Buck intently. He looks back at her, his thumb brushing Christopher’s cheek absently, and Chris hums.

It’s silent now, on the truck, and Chris is looking at Buck. He’s all he can look at.

“You saved me.” Chris says, abruptly. “You saved us all, Buck.”

Buck’s face drops and his lip shakes for a moment, like when Chris stubs his toe on the kitchen chair in the morning when he isn’t paying attention, and dad usually rubs it and hugs him, so Chris copies. Leans in, hugs Buck close, and feels Tia Pepa rub his back.

He can hear Buck clear his throat, feels his arms come around them, and his voice is different, tight and rough. “I think we make a good team,” Buck says, and Tia Pepa thumps his back a few times as he chokes out a laugh.

Chris pulls back, and sees the other people on the truck watching them, no longer staring at the water. The older man quietly says thank you, and then everyone starts joining in, and the man from the car cheers as he claps at Buck and then they’re all smiling and laughing together again. The noise gathers speed and Buck’s grinning at him, his chest warm.

It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay.

Chris smiles.

And then the water hits.

The truck gets hit by a wave of water, knocking into them all and a few people scream as they get pushed against one side of the railing. Buck leans over to grab someone who jolted and fell over the side, a garble as water rushed over them. Chris feels himself get pushed back by one of Buck’s strong hands and then Tia Pepa slips next to him, knocking her head on the ladder and yelping. Chris tries to get up and get to her, Buck shouting to him to get back down as he reaches for her, but then –

It’s dark, and cold, and the water’s too fast, and Chris doesn’t know where he is. Just that he misses Tia Pepa, and Buck, and his dad, his dad, his dad, he just wants his dad –

“Christopher! Hey, keep her awake, put pressure on it. Christopher!”

Dad won’t ever see the gift they won for him. He works so hard, and Chris wanted to do one nice thing for him. That thought lingers in Christopher’s head the most.

Tia Pepa hurt her head, Buck is gone, and dad won’t see his gift.

“Christopher!”

He won’t know that Chris was thinking of him the whole time, and it makes him want to cry but he can’t do anything right now except get pulled into the water, into the dark.

“Christopher!”

Look higher, Chris.

The sun. Chris isn’t sure how he does it, but he looks over and sees light, and then a shadow over it. Something reaching out to him.

“Christopher!”

***

The emergency hospital set up across several blocks in midtown was already full. Eddie feels his feet ache when he finally sees Athena after they finish wheeling another patient out for urgent care. Hen and Chimney are nearby triaging as many people coming through the tents as they can, and Bobby’s making countless calls to the other stations and dispatch for updates. Cell towers are thankfully back up, but Eddie’s got barely any signal. He’s tried to call Pepa countless times, and nothing. Nothing from Paco or Abuela, either. He tries to tell himself that’s a good thing, they’re asleep, they’re at home. They’re safe.

Christopher’s face beams at him, one more time. His battery’s close to dying. He stares a little longer this time, and sighs as he tucks it away in his pocket and makes his way over to Bobby, head just about held up.

“Where do you need me next, Cap?” Eddie asks, voice hoarse and nose running and soaked through, and Bobby puts a hand on his shoulder, clasping tight.

“I need you to sit down, and take a breather,” he nudges Eddie gently, tipping his head to the side to a bench but Eddie shakes his head.

“Keeps my mind off things if I’m busy, Cap.”

Bobby pauses, furrowing his brow, disapproving. “It’s going to be okay, Eddie.” His hand is warm and strong and grounding, and Athena’s walking over to them now, her gaze softening as she takes them in. Eddie can’t keep his head up and feels his face fall into his hands. “Hey, I’m sure your family is okay, Eddie, we’ll get you a satellite phone and you can call them, let’s –”

Eddie was listening, he was, but then he glanced up and out of the corner of his eye, there was a woman with Pepa’s hair color that made him startle. Just a flash, but it was enough. He turned around to her and saw the woman was also Pepa’s age, and wore her clothes, and had her eyes, and then Eddie’s sprinting over to the triage tent that Chimney’s manning and he’s shoving through to find her and it’s – it’s –

“Pepa?” Eddie asks gutturally, voice barely there, a waver in it as he slumps down and grabs her hand. She briefly closed her eyes, but they flutter open as he grabs hold of her. A million thoughts race in his head, one on top of the other.

Why is Pepa here? If she’s here, she wouldn’t be alone. Was Abuela with her? Did they both come to the pier for some reason? Why? Paco was with Christopher but then – then Pepa was supposed to spend the afternoon with him. With Christopher. Christopher. Christopher, Chris –

“Christopher?” Eddie blurts out, his heart slowly bleeding out of his chest and Pepa breathes in heavily, trying to reach up and cup his cheek with a shaky hand as she blinks her wet eyes. “Are you okay, do you know where Chris is? Is he home? Pepa, please, he’s okay, you’re okay, right?” He’s gripping her hand to his cheek as he rambles, shaking and shivering and delirious, until he feels a pressure on his shoulder. A calm hand on his back.

Hen is all of a sudden there, coming over and asking Pepa some questions in a soft voice while Chimney gets Eddie out the way. “No, Pepa, she’s okay, right Hen? And Christopher, Chris, where’s Chris –”

He doesn’t understand why everyone’s around him, why Bobby’s steering him up and into his shoulder because it’s okay, they’re okay, they have to be? Chris is asleep at home, waiting to tell Eddie all about his day. And Eddie will lay down beside his son and smile into his hair and –

“Eddito, mi mundo, please,” Pepa says in between gasps, like it hurts her to speak, and Eddie can’t see anymore because there’s a blur in his eyes and he wants to hold her hand and fall into her arms but Hen’s wrapping a wound on her head and it doesn’t make sense, it isn’t, it doesn’t, it can’t –

“Eddie!” There’s a call from outside the tent, sharp and serious and demanding, and Bobby turns, his eyes automatically finding Athena in the chaos as she looks for them. Bobby keeps Eddie up on his feet and moves them back outside the tent to Athena, eyes bright and shining and there’s a smile on her face that doesn’t make sense as she turns to the side and –

He’s tall.

He’s tall, with dirty blond hair that looks brown in the low lights of the triage area. There are scars running down his face, some fresh with blood and others caked in dirt, like the rest of him. Eddie feels exhausted just looking at him. His biceps are corded with muscle, his shoulders are really wide, and Eddie catalogs it all in the blink of an eye, in the next heartbeat, because there’s –

“Christopher?”

There’s a small noise that gets buried in the man’s chest before a face emerges, turning like a sunflower towards his voice, and Eddie’s heart wants to burst like sunshine as he reaches forwards and grabs him, grabs his son, takes his little world in his arms and –

“Dad?”

Eddie’s crying, he’s laughing as he cries and then he tries to keep it together as Christopher’s solid weight is back in his arms and Eddie can just about breathe. Can tread water. Feels the storm lap at his ankles again as it retreats.

Chris is okay. He’s in his arms.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Chris starts, but Eddie shushes him. Pats his hair down, smiles at him like a miracle. A blessing.

“You’re okay, Chris,” he murmurs softly, repeating that phrase over and over again as his hands are careful combing over his body, but it looks like there isn’t a scratch on him. “Tia Pepa’s okay too, she’s in the tent over there, was it just you two? Was anyone else with you?” Chris shakes his head immediately; arms looped over Eddie and clinging on. “Okay, that’s good, it’s just you two and you’re both here, you’re both okay, alright, mijo? Everything’s okay,” Eddie rubs his hands up and down Chris’ back, rocking him as if he were a baby and Eddie can’t even bear to imagine what happened to his son, his baby, and he tries to keep his tears at bay but it sparks up at the thought of Chris being scared and –  

“Dad, dad, wait, what about Buck –” Chris shuffles then, emerging from Eddie’s grip and staring over his shoulder. “Buck got hurt –”

Before Eddie can ask who the hell is Buck, the man in front of them who was carrying Chris keels over, going headfirst to the floor if not for Bobby and Athena catching him under each arm. Chris goes near feral in Eddie’s grip, leaping out for the man while Eddie pulls him back close again.

“Buck! Dad, Buck got hurt a bunch of times, he kept trying to save people and he said he wouldn’t stop walking with me until we found Tia Pepa and they gave us water but he gave me all of his, is he going to be okay?” Chris was almost hysterical as he blustered, and Eddie pulled his son close as they watched Bobby and Athena move the collapsed man to the tent.

Squirming, Chris tried to get put down and grab Eddie’s hand instead, no doubt to take them both to follow the others but Eddie set him down to kneel to his height, holding his shoulders firmly. “Hey, buddy, listen to me, Buck needs rest, okay? We need to let Hen and Chimney take a look at him and then we can go back over to him, okay? Let’s go see Pepa, come here.”

Eddie gently guides Chris over to Pepa, and Chris reaches a little claw out to grab Pepa’s sleeve and hangs on for dear life. Pepa’s eyes flash open and a sob nearly gets ripped out of her as she envelopes him whole. “Christopher, oh thank heavens, oh mijo, are you okay? Did Buck get you?” Her hand raises just enough to trace Christopher’s cheek and he nods, eyes brimming before they start to leak and then Eddie’s arms are full of his son again.

“D-dad, dad I lost your present,” Chris weeps, full on bawling and Eddie rubs his back calmly, repeatedly, shushing him softly. He knows this is the adrenaline running its course, knows this is Christopher’s brain’s way of letting him know he’s safe again, so he holds his son and breathes in his weight. “Buck h-helped us and, and – and we lost it. But Buck got us to the stall even though there wasn’t enough space for him, a-and then we – hic – needed his help to get out of the water and he swam to us and, and if he’s hurt it’s – hic – because of me because he went back into the water when I fell in even though he didn’t need to and and and –”

“He’s okay, Chris, he’ll be okay,” Eddie thoughtlessly promises, desperate for his son to stop heaving out his soul in arms and praying he’ll settle down, he’ll be okay, even though Eddie knows he can’t guarantee anything, he just has to believe. Foolishly, he wants to believe.

Chris tips his head up, sniffling as his hand tightens around Pepa’s arm and Eddie’s shirt. “Really?” He asks, eyes so wide and face so open it makes Eddie want to curl around his son and never let him go, never let anything hurt them ever again.

“I promise, we’ll go see Buck in a few minutes, okay?” Eddie suggests carefully, and Chris nods his head emphatically. “Okay, and we need Tia Pepa to rest now too, we can try and call Tio Paco, I bet he’s worried about you guys, so let’s go make sure he’s okay, yeah?” Eddie has just enough battery left to pull up Paco’s number and call him, getting them all together as he puts the phone on speaker as it finally dials for the first time all day, and it feels like waking up from a nightmare when they hear Abuela’s gasp on the other end of line, turning into a cry as she hears they’re all together and okay. Paco promises immediately to get on his way over to them when Bobby comes back over.

“Alright Tio, yeah, here’s Pepa, we’ll stay with her, don’t worry. Be careful, okay? Love you,” Eddie says, Chris echoing him from his lap as Eddie hands his phone back to Pepa, who takes it with a smile and then starts murmuring to Paco.

Bobby stands beside them, and has a small smile on his face. “Chris, you got a visitation request, you and dad think you’re up for it?” Chris jumps up, clenching Eddie’s hand and determinedly making his way over to where Bobby came from. Eddie lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, and asks Chris if he wants a hand since he doesn’t have his crutches. Chris nods, throwing his arms over Eddie’s neck and shoulders to get hoisted up, and then Bobby’s leading the way.

There’s madness around them, people everywhere and nowhere finding their way through the disaster. Eddie catches Hen and Athena sat down, Hen’s head on Athena’s shoulder, resting with her eyes shut and hands bloody. There’s a little girl sat with her dad, and two woman holding one another under an emergency blanket, and an older man sat beside a guy in a full suit chatting, and Eddie ducks his head into Chris’ hair as he walks across the way. Chimney’s sat beside the man now, a phone in his hand held between them as it chirps away.

“And tell Evan I’m on the way, and he better not move a muscle he doesn’t have to, and to drink plenty of water, and –”

The man in the cot, Buck, groans at the woman on the phone while Chimney laughs raucously. “Mads, you’re on speaker, I can hear you. And I’m fine, don’t worry about me. You’re embarrassing me.”

There’s a scoff, and then a huff on the other end. “Don’t worry about me, he says. I’m your older sister, what do you think I’ve been doing for the last three decades?”

The man – Buck, Eddie corrects in his head again – winces at his sister’s tone, and Chimney smirks.

“You got him good,” Chimney notes into the phone, and the woman laughs at him as Buck pouts at them, arms folded over his chest.

“Buck!” Chris calls out from Eddie’s shoulders, and Buck turns his head over to them.

He’s got blue eyes. A smudge on his forehead, pink, alongside rougher cuts and bruises littering his cheeks and forehead. His shirt is off, which is good because that thing was beyond saving, but it’s also terrible because his body is kind of ridiculous. And Eddie shouldn’t be paying attention, but he is. In the way that it’s all sharp lines and soft black ink and pretty dips and Eddie blinks. Looks away. Feels a wayward kick in his floating ribs from Chris and he lowers his son slowly, watching as his kid leaps over to hug Buck. Buck, who’s got a smile on his face like he’s won a million dollars just because Chris is charging towards him. His lips are pink, too. An urge drives Eddie’s feet forward.

“Careful!” He blurts out, worry and fear bolting through his body, a lick of concern scalding him because surely Buck has bruised ribs, maybe he even got cut or caught on something and needed to be bandaged up, but Buck clearly doesn’t care as he laughs and laughs and it’s too bright. Eddie blinks.

Chimney takes the phone off speaker then, with Buck’s distracted and the woman on the other end asking him questions and Chimney steps away, a little murmur and scratch to the back of his neck as he responds, almost shy. Eddie stares at him, deadpan, and Chimney stumbles on his feet as he rushes away to the other side of the tent, giving Eddie’s shoulder a shove for good measure.

He pauses for a moment, but he can’t help himself. Eddie turns and listens in on Chris and Buck’s conversation, studies the way Chris halfway leans on Buck’s chest and settles, chin in his palm and elbow on Buck’s sternum, as Buck talks to him.

“I’m okay, see? Just needed some water, somewhere to lay down, and some nice people to look me over. Good as new now, buddy.” Buck beams, a giant, sunny thing that lights up the darkness around them and Eddie absently rubs his chest, his neck, his cheeks flushing a little at the force of it. What the fuck is going on? His stomach’s both in knots and fluttering, but it’s fine because Chris is okay and Pepa’s okay and everyone is… everyone’s okay.

“Good thing we found the brave firefighters, huh? And your dad! Hi, Christopher’s dad,” Buck leans over a little, a sliver of his stomach revealed to Eddie’s eyes and Eddie immediately rounds the corner to the other side of the cot, where Chris doesn’t have his legs kicking over the edge, and steps close. Close enough that he can catch the way Buck’s eyelashes flutter a little as he tries to readjust, something clearly bothering him. His neck falls back into the lackluster cot they have for him, and Eddie leans over a little to make sure he doesn’t have to crane it. Buck looks up at him. His eyes are really blue. “I’m Buck. Thanks for raising the coolest kid ever,” Buck’s grin is charming, Chris giggling on top of him and Eddie’s heart does a weird flip as he stares at the man.

“Dad?”

“Eddie,” he blurts out. He reaches a hand over, then feels stupid because Buck’s right hand is currently trapped beneath Eddie’s son, but it doesn’t matter because Buck just reaches his left hand up and curls his hand into Eddie’s, so they’re holding hands, and he squeezes. It sends a spark tracing through Eddie’s body, and he has to actively suppress the shudder that wants to ripple through him. “Sorry, uh. I’m Eddie. Diaz. And I should be saying – I mean, thank – thank you.” It all comes rushing at him then, the way this could have been the worst day of his whole life, his entire existence. This could have ended in a nightmare, and horror show. That if not for this man and Pepa, Chris might not be here right now. “You, you saved them. Thank you, Buck,” Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand tightly, and Buck smiles again. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

His other hand goes to Chris’ head, who’s laying down on Buck’s chest and his eyes are slipping closed. Eddie traces a curl through his fingers and his heart’s racing.  

“Hey, buddy, if you’re tired, let’s get you somewhere else,” Eddie starts to pull back, but Buck tightens his grip on them both and he freezes right in his step.

“No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. You can stay, until you have to go.” And yeah, it’s a horrendously tempting offer that Eddie wants nothing more than to take, wants to rest just like his son and lay down and have Buck take care of them both, under his big gentle hands. It’s insane, and Eddie shouldn’t, so he can’t, but then he makes the mistake of looking at Buck and he’s just so – he’s just so, Eddie can’t but he just, he wants –

“Sit?” Buck asks, voice small and tucked carefully around Eddie’s ribs and when he finally pulls his hand away to motion to the fold-out chair nearby, Eddie slowly lowers himself into it and his feet must be made of stone, because he can’t imagine moving again anytime soon.

Chris just about passed out, lightly snoring where his face is smushed into Buck, and Buck laughs like a bell. Eddie stares at them both.

Buck looks at him, and the smudge of pink on his forehead doesn’t look like a fresh wound. It’s like a strawberry, a little puzzle piece fitting in place. Makes the blue of his eyes brighter, even with all the chaos and terror around them. Eddie wonders why he’s staring at it so much. “The other guy, Chimney? He said Pepa was okay?” Buck bites his lip while Eddie gently nods. “T-that’s good.”

It’s silent for a moment, but not awkward. Eddie’s palms aren’t itching for him to leave like they sometimes do. Instead, his mind races for what to say, how to get Buck’s attention, make him smile or laugh. They lock eyes again, and this time Eddie has to look away first, face heated and heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest and he has to breathe deeply. He’s not losing his head. He’s fine. Everything is fine.

His cheeks still feel warm.

“Is your favorite animal a frog?” Buck abruptly asks, and Eddie furrows his brow as he looks back up at him.

“Did Chris tell you that?”

Buck looks bashful as he uses his free hand to run through his hair, and he winces as it gets snagged on a knot. Eddie hyper-focuses on it for a moment too long. “Oh, no, but he wanted to win you this giant frog at the pier. Like a stuffed animal, not a real frog, that would be mean to keep a frog like that at a carnival all day long. Um, sorry. I just meant - that’s how we met. Chris asked me to help him.” Buck’s a little flushed and he clears his throat, but his eyes look bright and he seems full of life for a man about to collapse unconscious fifteen minutes ago. “It was half the size of Chris, the one we finally got for you.” Buck chuckles, and he’s got a sweet smile on his face as his tone goes a little wistful. Eddie swallows heavily.

“Oh. That’s – nice.”

Nice. That’s nice. That’s not what Eddie wants to say. There’s a few things Eddie wants to say, a lot of them new and confusing but big and real and it makes him want to be brave and stupid and – Eddie thinks he should definitely not say what he wants to say.

“What would you name it? I asked Chris a bunch of times, but he kept arguing that it was yours, so you had to name it,” Buck explained, and Eddie looks away for a moment to try and clear his head a little. It’s a distracting sight in front of him, a handsome man who clearly cares for his son, while said son is gently resting on his clearly defined chest while his big, dumb biceps are right there and there’s a tattoo peeking out of his chest that Eddie wants to see.

His mind’s blank. Buck’s eyes are like the ocean and it’s making Eddie really struggle to get a damn name out of his mouth, so he just thinks of the first thing on his mind and out comes –

“Jack Traven,” that’s so embarrassing, this entire thing is so overwhelming embarrassing, and Eddie wants to duck his head and hide but Buck just lays there, like temptation himself as he tilts his head cutely to the side, lips pursed in confusion.

“Why do I recognize that name?” Buck questions, and Eddie clears his throat as he stamps the blush out of his face by sheer force of will. He knows he’s failing miserably.

“Uh, he’s the main character. From a movie.”

“Oh. What movie?”

“Um. Speed.”

“Is that the one with Keanu Reeves? And Sandra Bullock?” Buck frowns at him, and Eddie bites his lip.

“Yeah. You’re,” this is insane, this is so stupid, Eddie’s an idiot and he should just stop talking right now but he can’t and maybe Buck’s unreal eyes and ridiculous smile and pretty pink lips are bewitching him and he’s under a spell and he should talk to Abuela about this, right? But his mouth just keeps going, and then he’s saying: “You’re kind of like him, you know? Helping people, being a big hero. Saving the day. So if you won the frog for me, I guess yeah. In your honor, or something. Ha. Um. Jack. That’s a normal name.” Eddie’s moving to Alaska. Chris would learn to like snow, right? And then Eddie can bury his head through a frozen lake to forget this conversation ever happ-

“So does that make you Sandra Bullock? I love her, she’s great,” Buck sighs, a little dreamily. “You’re the people’s princess,” he adds gleefully, eyes fluttering closed before startling back open. “Um. That’s not what – I just mean. You have deer eyes.”

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. “Deer eyes?”

“Baby deer, fawn. Fawn eyes. Bambi. B-brown.” Buck stutters and his face is going bright red to match Eddie’s, he knows it. Neither of them are able to make eye contact, but Eddie will tear off his own arm and wave it around like a weapon if anyone interrupts them right now. “Nice. They’re nice eyes. I like yo- Sandra Bullock also has brown eyes.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods hurriedly, and looks up to catch Buck licking his lips. Eddie watches it happen, as if in slow motion, and wants Buck to repeat it. He feels a little wrong in the head for wishing for it to happen so badly.

Buck swallows and it exposes the length of his neck as he tips his head slightly backwards, and Eddie wants to bite at it, just a little. It’s so thick and strong, like the rest of him, and Eddie’s never thought he’d have a type like this but it’s hitting him like a ton of bricks. The switch flipped in his brain and won’t turn off. The urge to sink his teeth in has him leaning back and sitting on his hands and begging for strength to make it out of this conversation somewhat alive.

“Are you okay?” Buck asks in the middle of their silence, and Eddie shakes his head vigorously to banish his thoughts. “No?” Buck infers, worriedly.

“No! No, I’m okay. I’m okay now. Buck, how do I, I can’t even – how do I ever repay you?” Eddie implores desperately, and Buck grins a little nervously.

He looks down at Chris, dozing away peacefully, and then back up at Eddie. “Maybe you could invite me over to your Abuela’s for dinner sometime? Pepa started telling us all about the food she was making, I think that might have got us through some of the harder moments,” he jokes, but Eddie leans forward.

“Done.”

“O-oh. Okay, um. Thank you. But I was just jok-”

“I need your number,” Eddie tells him stiltedly, voice weirdly hoarse, and Buck’s lips part. “For dinner. At Abuela’s.”

“R-right. Yeah, of course. Do you want me to put it in your phone?” Buck clears his throat, and Eddie freezes. His phone. Currently with Pepa. And likely dead by now. He frowns irately, and then Buck’s waving his hand in front of him in a retreating gesture. “That’s okay! It was a joke anyway, you don’t owe me anything, Eddie. Anyone would do what I did.”

“But no one else did. You did. Buck, I –” Eddie cuts himself off, biting his tongue, and he knows in a heartbeat that he can’t just let Buck wander off. Can’t let this be the last time they see him. Can’t let this be the end of it. Knows Chris will gnaw his arm off to see Buck again, knows Pepa will want to owe it to Buck too. Knows he’ll be a little different now, after meeting Buck. Will wonder. Will ask.

But what if –

Eddie gets up and roots around an emptied med kit, shuffling around supplies until he hits gold. He grabs the pen, rolls up his sleeve and stands there, hand poised over his arm as he nods to Buck. It makes him light up and he rattles off his number. Eddie slowly prints each number on his skin carefully, marking it down and reading it back to Buck. When Buck confirms he got it all right, Eddie smiles and traces a finger over the numbers, making some lines thicker, making sure it doesn’t go anywhere.

He wants to be brave, wants to hold Buck’s hand and thank him again. He should be sensible, and pick up Chris and walk back over to Pepa and not embarrass himself any further. He wishes he could lean down and fall asleep on Buck’s chest himself. He needs to shower and eat some food and spend the next week off work and see Buck again.

He really wants to see Buck again.

“Um, I never asked. Chris didn’t mention it, so I didn’t want to, but uh. Does his mom know he’s okay too, or…” Buck trails off, and Eddie rubs at his jaw.

“She’s not around anymore. I’m a single dad,” Eddie clarifies, wincing at the way there was no need to phrase it like that, but Buck nods vigorously.

“He’s a really great kid. He never once stopped trying. And he was so brave, the whole time, he kept trying to save people himself. You’re a really great dad, Eddie,” Buck tells him, his whole expression so open and beautiful and Eddie quickly wipes his face.

“All him,” Eddie answers roughly. Buck is brave, too, and puts his hand on Eddie’s wrist and turns it carefully, letting their fingers brush over one another and Eddie isn’t sure where he ends and Buck begins but he doesn’t want to try and calculate it. He just wants to feel it.

“The both of you, I think,” Buck teases, and Eddie wants to keep it.

“Dad?” Chris groans, eyes squeezing tightly shut.

Eddie turns instantly and sweeps a hand over Chris’ head, fingers gentle and methodic.

“Can Buck sleepover at home?” He mumbles, turning his head to face Eddie. He shuffles and tries to settle back down comfortably in his new spot. Eddie looks over, watches Buck’s mouth drop and his attention gets snatched by his lips, ridiculously pouty and plush and pretty. Eddie just stares.

“Um,” Buck looks to Eddie for help, but he’s not able to do much more than shrug. Far be it for Eddie to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I think my sister’s coming here soon, and she probably wants to check up on me first and then take me to my apartment.”

“We can wait for her. And then you can come to our place once she’s happy,” Chris counters, and Eddie snorts at his son’s negotiation skills. Buck cuts him a look.

“I… Chris, you have to check in with your dad first before asking me…” Buck starts, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Approved.”

“Okay! Then you can come back with us.” Chris announces promptly, and that’s settled. He smiles as he closes his little eyes again, so at peace. Buck just stares at Eddie, who turns to grin at him. It just makes Buck’s eyes dart all over his face and then a flash of something crosses Buck’s face. Like resolve, like steel. Eddie wants to get stuck in it and never leave.

“You know, I've heard relationships based on intense experiences never work,” Buck tells Eddie quietly, who immediately feels his smile collapse into a devasted frown. Did Buck – does that mean he doesn’t – or does he mean with Chris? Is he talking about trauma bonding? Because Eddie would never put Chris in harm’s way. Never. And this isn’t even that, that’s not the definition of trauma bonding but, but does Buck mean – Fuck. Or does it – wait. Wait a fucking –

“Did you just quote Speed to me?” Eddie asks incredulously, and Buck laughs loudly, chest bouncing up and down that it makes Chris yelp.

“You’re the one who called your teddy bear Jack Traven! You started it!”

“You realize this really does make me the Sandra Bullock of this situation then,” Eddie harrumphs, and Buck wrinkles his nose.

“You should be so lucky.”

“I know, she’s the people’s princess.” Buck preens as Eddie quotes him from earlier, and it makes his heart lurch. His mind races, and Chris starts to drool on Buck’s chest and it’s gross and Eddie wants to move his son but then Buck just rests a hand on Christopher’s back and starts to gently pat it, and that’s the final straw on Eddie’s proverbial, insane, obsessive camel’s back.

“What if we were in a different movie?” Eddie blurts out unsteadily, and Buck slants his head closer to Eddie’s side, like a big puppy.  

“Like what?”

“The Lake House has Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock in it, too,” Eddie tries to get out nonchalantly, but his pulse is racing and his body feels so warm and his voice wavers for a split second, and Buck doesn’t say anything.

“Oh.”

Oh. Oh, Eddie’s fucked this all –

“You want us to talk through letters?”

“What? No –”

“Don’t they live in different timelines in that movie? Like, they don’t actually meet for real until the end of the movie. Years later. Is that what you want?”

“Buck, obviously I don’t want –”

“Keanu Reeves dies in that film, Eddie. Do you want me to die?”  

“No! I just want you!”

It goes silent. Well, as silent as an emergency medical tent in the middle of a natural disaster can go silent. Eddie can only hear his heartbeat, loud and energetic and buzzing alive and vivid. He doesn’t look into Buck’s eyes, but his gaze crawls along his neck instead, greedily taking in his wide chest, his curly hair, his thick eyebrow, the scar on his nose, the curve of his ear. Anything but his eyes. Eddie watches in real time as his eyes swoop over his face again as Buck’s lips curve into a smile.

“Really?”

Eddie looks up, and sees the sparkle in Buck’s gaze. He’s fucked.

“I think some relationships based on intense experiences can work,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck laughs.

“Me too.” His eyes flutter closed, and his lips are stuck in a sweet smile. Eddie’s heart lingers on it. “I didn’t mean that before, Eddie. It was just a quote. I think relationships like these can work.”

“I know, Buck.”

Chris snores loud enough to wake himself, and then there’s a woman walking over to them with short brown hair and big wet eyes and Chimney’s leading her over and Chris shuffles over to share Buck with his sister, Eddie learns, and it’s a nice little bubble they’re in, just for a moment.

***

Christopher isn’t clingy in the days after the tsunami. He does ask for Buck or Eddie to be nearby and sometimes they play games, other times it’s to watch TV together or cook in the kitchen, but he doesn’t really mind if they are gone somewhere else in the house. He admitted that he really likes it when they’re all under the same roof. Buck gets that, he wants to spend all his time with the Diaz boys and avoid going home to a cold and empty apartment, wants to bask in their warmth for as long as he can. The drive back to his place at the end of the day is the bleakest part of his life now.

But it’s really good that Chris is okay with Buck being around so much, and it’s also really good that he’s okay when Buck leaves the room. Especially when Buck leaves the room to go chase Eddie into the kitchen and kiss the life out of the man.

Eddie tastes like rain, and spring, and the sunset, and his hair is silky smooth and his eyes are so deep it hurts to stare into them and Buck has no clue, literally no idea, how he got so lucky. Wonders if maybe he hit his head a while back and it’s all been one perfect, beautiful dream since, but then Maddie came to find him in the tent and told Eddie three different embarrassing stories about Buck as a kid, so it’s likely real.

And it’s real, it’s so real the way his body feels pulled apart and put back together new each time he’s with Eddie. They’ve only kissed a handful of times, a tentative, small, careful thing brewing between them because Buck wants to cradle Eddie and Chris and their family and their world and cherish it. Wants to not fuck it up. Doesn’t want it to become a mangle of scars, just wants it to stay good. Stay like this.

There’s a noise as Buck swipes his tongue across Eddie’s lips, a hum that becomes a soft moan and Buck chases it like it’s the last drop of water in a desert. Eddie pulls back, breathing heavily as he runs a hand through Buck’s hair, tangling in his curls with a tug.

“We’re not going too fast, right?” Eddie bluntly asks, and Buck pauses, suddenly ice cold.

“Too fast?”

“It’s not a big deal I’ve made you spend nearly all of your time at my place for the last week despite only knowing you that same amount of time, right?” Eddie demands, guiltily biting his lip. Buck lets out a sigh of relief as he touches his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder, curving around him.

“That’s the opposite of a problem, if you ask me.” Buck leans in and kisses Eddie’s shoulder, his collarbone, and tries to hide the pleasant buzz in his body as he sees Eddie jolt and shiver.  

“Slightly biased opinion, don’t you think?” Rain and spring and the sunset, and Eddie’s everything in between all at once as he guides Buck back up so he can kiss Buck’s lips, his cheek, his nose.

“Yours and Christopher’s opinions are the only ones I worry about,” Buck counters, eyes fluttering closed, feeling Eddie’s laugh on his skin.

There’s a voice in the living room all of a sudden, calling out to them.

“Stop being gross in there!”

They halt, and then Buck croaks out a cackle as Eddie drops his head in shame into his hands.

“You heard your son,” Buck teases, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and feeling like a teenager caught in the act. He guides it up so he can kiss the back of Eddie’s hand, just to see his blush, and Eddie doesn’t disappoint as his cheeks go bright red beneath his intense eyeroll.

“I’m eating the last of Abuela’s cookies,” Eddie threatens, and two voices plead back at him in harmony to have mercy. It makes Eddie grin widely and Buck watches it. He wants so badly to always see Eddie like this; to make Eddie feel like this.  

Eddie takes said cookies, curtesy of Abuela’s insanely huge care package, and makes his way back into the living room towards Chris. Buck grabs their phones off the kitchen table as he goes to follow, but he accidentally lights up Eddie’s screen as he holds it in his hands.

It’s a picture of Chris.

Laying on Buck.

His name was Bobby, Eddie’s captain. He had a quiet look on his face, and he seemed full of precaution as he sat down beside Buck and Chris when Eddie had to go help Paco with Pepa’s treatment notes. Maddie was somewhere, with Chimney or the other nice firefighter, Hen? He wasn’t sure, he just knew that Bobby was sat beside them, and Chris was telling them about his favorite book, and Buck was laying in his cot, listening. They didn’t even pose, Bobby just got his phone out and took a picture of them, mid-conversation, and showed them the result minutes later. It was almost comical, the peacefulness of the two of them locked in a conversation while the background behind them was hectic and littered with chaos, but Bobby just smiled down at it and offered to send the picture to them. Buck forgot to give Bobby his number, and then forgot all about the picture as Maddie came back to get him and Chris jumped up to make sure Buck was going back with them, and Athena asked Bobby to help with a situation, and he was gone.

But the picture still found its way back to them.

Buck’s heart skips a beat as he looks down at the picture, breathing sluggishly as his cheeks feel warmer, and he heads back into the living room to his boys.

He stares at his leg, exposed in his sleep shorts, and looks up at Eddie and Chris, wrestling for a cookie in a tangled heap on the floor. He thinks about ordering a giant frog plushy and calling it Jack.

“Come on, Buck, we’re waiting for you so we can start the movie!” Chris guffaws from somewhere captive under Eddie’s armpit, pinned in place, and Eddie pretends he can’t hear him by loudly asking Buck if he understands what Christopher is saying. It leads to Chris yelling even louder while Eddie tries to suppress his laugh, and he looks to Eddie like he’s looking to share in this moment with someone special, like it’s just the three of them.

Buck stares at his leg.

He steps into the room.