Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

NOVEMBER-FOUR MONTHS ALONG

“So…”

Hen let it hang between them for a second. As much as she didn’t want to spring this on the other woman, she had to know. Things hadn't seemed to be any different between Buck and Eddie these last few days, none of the usual tense awkwardness between them that always happened when they fought. A month or so back, Hen thought maybe something had happened. For a few days, Eddie took every chance he could to leave the room when Buck came into it. To make matters all the more confusing, he looked at the woman like he desperately wanted to be closer to her.

She looked at him in that usual lost puppy way of hers. But she left him alone.

That had been weeks ago, though. If it really had been about Eddie moving, it would have been brought up by now. No matter how well-meaning Buck was, she tended to lash out when she was hurt. Especially when it was Eddie who had hurt her.

“Eddie’s leaving.”

Buck took a deep breath. It hadn’t been that tough of a shift, all of their calls going as smoothly as possible, but no day under Gerrard was an easy day. Just when Hen had let her guard down, the man had stormed up to Eddie, huffing and puffing over something. At first, Hen had tried to keep her nose out of it, not give Gerrard another thing to be pissed off about. But with the words Texas, son, and failure filling the silence, it was hard.

“He told me last night.”

Hen nodded, tugging her laces tighter. Gerrard had dropped the bomb on them right before a call, letting the knowledge they were soon going to lose one of their own chill them down to the bone. The house fire they attended never had a chance. Hen and Buck had gotten the brunt of it. Hen hadn’t been able to work it out quite yet, if it was Hen and Buck’s woman-ness or their queer-ness or Buck and Eddie’s… BuckandEddie-ness, that offended the man more. He’d been keen on taking his ire out on them either way, splitting Buck and Eddie in favor of partnering her with Hen as often as possible.

“How are you taking it?”

Buck sighed. Gerrard had taken one look at them when they returned to the firehouse, sweat and soot caking their faces, and told them to clean up. Hen was sure he’d intentionally let them hear the remarks he was making about them still being women, no matter how much they tried to change it.

“As well as I can, I guess. We didn't really discuss it or anything. He just told me he was looking at houses in El Paso and I kinda shut down.”

Hen’s brows rose in surprise. That wasn't very on-brand for Buck and Eddie. Sometimes it seemed like they knew everything about each other. Certainly, they knew it before the rest of the 118.

“Really? You two talk about everything.”

Buck gave a stilted shrug. Nonchalance was not something she was good at. Especially when it came to Eddie.

“Not everything.”

It came out harsher than she meant for it to. She winced a bit, sheepishly looking up at Hen. The other woman stared at her blankly.

“I mean, what do I even say to him? Anything I say, he'll either brush off or internalize. I can't do that to him.”

Hen blinked. She opened her mouth to respond but Buck forged on.

“I can't. With everything he’s been through, I just-”

She cut herself off with a ragged breath. Her chest was almost heaving with the exertion it took to keep herself in check. She would not cry. In the locker room. Over Eddie. Again.

“Should I tell him? I should tell him, right?”

She looked at Hen for an answer, as if Hen had any idea what she was talking about. Hen rarely knew what Buck was talking about, if she was being completely honest. Sometimes this little white girl really stressed her out.

“I wasn't going to, not so soon after Chris, I thought I'd wait until he noticed, or someone pointed it out, which I know is terrible of me.”

It dawned on Hen, the idiot finally realized she was in love. At the worst possible time. There was no way this was going to end well. At least not for Hen’s sanity.

“But he's leaving, how can I not-”

Hen cut her off, laying a hand firmly on her shoulder. She waited until Buck was looking in her eyes and took a deep breath. There were a few ways she could go about this, but she figured some of the harsher ways might alienate the other woman. She had to do this as nicely as possible while still getting it through Buck’s thick skull.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, Buck, I really do, so don't take it the wrong way.”

Buck swallowed and nodded. Hen took another deep breath.

“I don't think telling him you love him is going to help anyone right now, you need to let him-”

Buck stumbled a bit, like Hen’s statement had literally knocked the wind out of her. She shook her head.

“I’m not-I'm not in love with Eddie, Hen.”

Hen raised her eyebrows again, leveling Buck with a distinctly unimpressed look. Just how blind did Buck think she was?

“I'm pregnant.”

It was Hen’s turn to get the wind knocked out of her. Just what had these idiots been up to now? Sure, anyone with eyes could tell that there was something going on between Buck and Eddie. But those eyes could also swear on the Bible that whatever it was that was going on between them had gone unaddressed.

“It's Eddie’s?”
Under any other circumstances, the offended, baby-eating-its-first-lemon pout on Buck’s face would have made Hen laugh. Now, it just made her sad. And a little tired.

“Who else would it be?”

Right, Hen thought, because the idea that she's in love with her best friend is just as offensive to her as the implication that anyone other than Eddie Diaz could be the father of her child. The odyssey that is Evan Buckley.

“Yeah, I'm not gonna touch that one, like, at all.”

Buck huffed. Hen plowed on.

“How do we feel about this… news?”

Buck blinked at her, tilting her head slightly. She really was like an overgrown puppy. Hen sighed.

“I mean, am I congratulating you and throwing you an obnoxiously over the top baby shower, or am I taking you to Planned Parenthood, dropping Denny off at Karen's mom’s, and letting you get drunk and cry yourself to sleep in the guest room?”

Buck laughed. It wasn't her usual belly shaking, full body, light-up-the-room laugh that she directed at Eddie, but it was a laugh, nonetheless. Soft and breathy and slightly sardonic, but proof she'd be ok. That everything would work out.

“I wouldn't mind some company tonight, to be honest.”

She rubbed a hand over her stomach, stopping as she realized exactly what she was doing.

“But I think alcohol is gonna be a no-go for me for a while.”

Chapter Text

NOVEMBER-FOUR MONTHS ALONG

He misses her. He misses her desperately. When she's standing right next to him, sitting right across the table from him. He misses her laugh, her smile, her warmth, her everything. He misses her, and he knows it's his own damn fault.

He takes a deep breath and refocuses on the punching bag in front of him. He tries to shake off the images playing behind his eyes. He fails.

No matter how hard he tries, he can't forget that night. He can't forget the rage that boiled his blood at the sight of Buck with another man. He can't forget the desperation in her eyes when they fought, trading barbed insults to hide what they were really fighting about. And he can't forget the warmth of her underneath him, the beautiful noises she made.

In some of his better moments, he likes to think that she knew she was hurting him just as much as he was hurting her. That it wasn't a one-sided betrayal brought on only by his own lust.

These moments don't last long.

It's made worse by the gnawing feeling he has that everyone knows. That she probably told Maddie, who told Chim, who told Hen, who told Athena, who told Bobby. None of them have said anything to him. But they’ve been looking at him differently. Even before Gerrard told them he was leaving them for El Paso, things seemed off.

And after… it was like he never stood a chance.

As loath as he is to admit it, especially after how much they’ve been through, the 118 is not his family. Not really. They are Buck’s. And they always will be.

And Eddie is back at square one.

No real family, no friends, a fucked-up relationship with his son.

He thought he was getting better. He really did. He thought Buck was making him better. Everything about her made him better. Her love made him want to be better. Like an endless feedback loop, her love and support made him a better man and him becoming a better man made her love and support him more. Some small, frightened part of him had thought fleetingly that if he one day became the best version of himself, the version that Buck and Chris deserved, they could all be together. Like a real family.

But they weren't together. They weren't even friends anymore. Sure, they’d kept up appearances at the firehouse, but outside of work, they rarely saw each other anymore. Long gone were the easy quiet nights wasted away on Eddie's couch with beers in their hands and soft smiles on their faces. A month into the uneasy silence, he had stopped by her apartment with a six pack, wanting to strike up a truce. To apologize, maybe explain himself. She took one look at him standing in her doorway and told him she didn't think it would be a good idea.

Something broke not only in him, but between them, that night. And it was his fault.

It's been two months since then. Two months of missing his best friend, of missing Buck.

It's an ache that persists no matter what he does. When he goes for a run, he thinks of how much fun she has when he invites her along. When he talks to Frank, he talks about how he thinks she’s feeling. When he talks to Chris, because thank God that happens now, limited as it is, he tries not to dwell on how often the boy asks after her.

When he sleeps, he dreams of her.

He couldn't actually remember the last time Buck was at his house before last night.

--- --- ---

Buck dropped into the chair like dead weight.

“El Paso?”

Eddie swallowed harshly. He nodded, not trusting his voice. He’d decided on this just this morning, but he was resolute in his conviction that nothing could change his mind. He would see Chris again even if it killed him.

But if anyone could talk him out of it, it was Buck. He prayed she wouldn’t.

“You-”

She cut herself off with a harsh breath.

“When are you leaving?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t-I don't know. I just started looking.”

She nodded.

“And I can't talk you out of it?”

He didn't respond.

“Okay.”

Eddie wanted to cry. He wouldn’t, he knew he wouldn’t, but-Maybe part of him had wanted her to try. He still would have said no, but just to have someone try. He understands Buck now in a way he never had before. If this was what her whole life had felt like, desperately begging everyone, anyone, to fight her just to show they loved her.

But she wouldn’t fight him. She wouldn’t risk it. When they fought, they exploded. The world came to a screeching halt when Buck and Eddie fought.

“What did you want to talk about?”

An olive branch.

One Buck did not take. She shook her head wordlessly. He reached out to her, placing a hand on her arm.

“Buck-”

He had meant for it to be comforting but Buck snatched her hand back the moment Eddie made contact. She moved her hands to her lap, rubbing one over the wrist of the other, as if Eddie's touch had burned her.

She shook her head again.

“Not right now. Not like this.”

She let out a shuddering sigh, her shoulders shaking with it.

“Just give me some time to think, please.”

Eddie nodded dumbly, desperately trying to catch her eyes.

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Buck let out a harsh, mocking laugh. She still wouldn't look at him.

Why wouldn't she look at him? What did he have to do to get her to look at him?

He cupped her face, running his thumb over her bottom lip. Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Finally. Finally, she was looking at him. Finally, she was giving him what he wanted. What he needed.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he surged forward, capturing her lips between his own. Last time, she had tasted of want and desperation and rage and tequila. Now she tasted of nothing but salty tears. He separated from her with a wet pop. The sob that filled the growing space between them was terrible. Eddie didn’t know who it came from.

And God, the way she looked at him. Like he was breaking her heart. And he knew, this time. Of course he knew. He wasn't blind. He knew, and he kept going. His hand trailed from her cheek to her hip and his thumb slipped under the hem of her shirt.

She let him.

Part of him hated her for it. Wanted to grab her and shake her and yell at her. To demand to know why she let him ruin her like this. He ducked his head down, nipping at her neck.

“I love you.”

It fell out of his lips in a feverish whisper. Buck froze under him.

“I'm sorry.”

He couldn't think of anything else to say.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

The apologies kept pouring out of him between kisses. His hand had made its way to her bra, and he wasn't stopping.

A strong hand came to rest on the back of his head.

“Stop.”

He froze before trying to move away from her. He didn't get far, her fingers carding into his hair and her palm cradling his skull.

“Stop apologizing.”

He nodded into her neck, not daring to move away from her again. She might be more forgiving this time; she might let him.

“Just-Why?”

He spoke into her chest, his mouth desperate to join his hand.

“Why did you tell me to leave, that night?”

He didn't have to specify which night he meant. She hadn't made him leave after they had sex. They had woken up the next morning holding each other. She had smiled at him bright and sweet before telling him to take a shower. He ducked out without a word while she was making breakfast in nothing but her underwear and his shirt.

But that night, the night that changed everything. It had been the last time they had seen each other outside of work. She had made him leave that night. Hadn't even let him in.

Buck’s chest heaved with effort, and he could feel her muscles rippling as she tried to unhook her bra with one hand, the other still firmly holding him in place.

“I didn't want this to happen again.”

Her bra made no sound as it hit the ground, tangling around Eddie's ankles. She gripped his hair tighter as his lips ghosted the sensitive flesh spilling out of her top.

“Right.”

His voice was rough with concentration. With want.

“I'm sorry.”

He pushed against her hand, freeing himself from her grip. He met her eyes for just a second before pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it somewhere behind them.

“Don't be.”

He dived back in, fully intent on taking full advantage of the woman sitting shirtless in his kitchen, baring everything to him, the only other witness the moonlight shining off their tears. Thankfully, she was just as good at ignoring his tears as he was at ignoring hers.

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

“Diaz!”

Eddie groaned at Gerrard’s voice. He watched as the bullfrog they unfortunately called their captain pointed harshly at the round in front of him, demanding Eddie's presence. He spared a look at Buck, who he had been helping with some new recipe she found while on a shredded chicken substitute kick and had been excitedly bringing up at every chance, to the point that Gerrard had snapped at her and told her to ‘just make your damn vegan shit before we starve’. Being yelled at made Buck anxious. They all knew that. Unfortunately, being anxious made her step into what she jokingly referred to as house-wife mode, something that Gerrard had picked up on disturbingly early into his tenure at the 118.

She waved him off with a small smile that didn't meet her eyes.

He sighed and went downstairs, meeting Gerrard's unimpressed glare with one of his own. Before he could even open his mouth to ask who had pissed in his bowl of freeze-dried flies this morning, the man cut him off with a huffy croak.

“Tell me why I should suspend you and Buckley right now instead of sending both of your asses directly to the Professional Standards Office.”

Eddie blinked. Sure, he knew Gerrard wasn't the biggest fan of his and Buck’s partnership, going out of his way to make snide comments about their job performance, their work ethic, and anything else he could think of in the moment, but Eddie really couldn't think of anything they'd done that was so offensive to the tertiary villain of Shrek 2 that he would be bothered to write them up for it.

“I don’t-”

Gerrard cut him off with a scoff.

“What, I’m supposed to break in a bunch of newbies, just because you and Buckley are too stupid to figure out how to use a damn condom?”

Eddie blinked again. His heart pounded in his chest. They hadn't used a condom. Either time. Not that Eddie had told anyone that. Or even told anyone that either time had happened. He hadn't even told Frank. And despite his paranoia regarding the way Hen and Chim had started looking at him when he stood too close to Buck for too long, he didn't actually believe that she had either.

She certainly wouldn't have given Gerrard the nitty-gritty details.

“What?”

Gerrard waved a dismissive hand in Buck’s direction. Thankfully, the woman was just far enough away from them that she couldn't hear what he was saying.

“Even if I didn’t know about you running away to Texas with your tail tucked between your legs, I can figure out why I just had the chief call me personally to put your little girlfriend on light duty.”

The man let out a sharp laugh.

“Maybe you’re right to run away from that. Imagine her as a mother. Poor kid.”

Eddie's ears rang. His heart pounded even harder. His vision tunneled, then went red, then went white. Someone yelled.

Everything was so loud. His breathing, his blood rushing in his ears, the feet pounding down the stairs behind him, the thud of Gerrard hitting the ground. And then Buck was there.

And everything was quiet again.

“Eddie?”

Her voice sounded like it was underwater. He nodded at her dumbly, answering a question she hadn’t asked him.

“Eddie, what happened?”

Her brows furrowed and Eddie, rather nonsensically, thought that she looked so pretty when she was mad at him. And when she was sad. And when she was laughing. And when she was working. And when she was cooking. She was beautiful. Always.

How could she not be?

“He…”

Eddie trailed off and swallowed his spit. It did nothing to dislodge the lump in his throat.

“He said you were a bad mother.”

--- --- --

“I assume we all know why we’re here?”

Eddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the PSO representative. That would definitely not help. But yes, Eddie knew exactly why he and Buck were downtown, sitting in a sterile office room, blinking away sleep under the harsh fluorescent lighting at seven in the morning on a Monday.

“Yes.”

It was all he heard Buck say since she had dropped him off at his house, alone, twelve hours ago. She’d picked him up an hour ago and driven them to the Professional Standards Office in silence. He had tried, once, to ask her… Something. He wasn't sure what exactly.

If it was true? Why she hadn't told him? How long she had known? Who else she had told?

Whatever it was that he was going to ask her, he didn't get the chance. The second he opened his mouth, she turned the radio up, and suddenly the barley legible program was blaring from the jeep’s console.

Eddie had never hated NPR more.

Coming back to himself, he nodded, not breaking eye contact with the representative.

She cleared her throat.

“Yes.”

She nodded once, sharply, and Eddie's skin crawled. This woman couldn't remind him of his mother more if she had been trained to.

“And that is?”

They stayed silent. Buck fidgeted in her seat. Eddie continued to stare straight ahead. He knew exactly what he’d done, and why it was wrong, and was willing to take whatever punishment the department saw fit with minimal pushback. But, professionally speaking, Buck had done nothing wrong. And if this woman thought a staring contest would make him throw his partner under the bus, she was welcome to try.

“Would you like to start, Mr. Diaz?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

Calm, cool, green Jell-O. He could do this.

“I punched Gerrard.”

The representative stared at him. She introduced herself at the beginning of the meeting, and Eddie had listened. He had. He just had more pressing matters on his mind. He wishes he had paid closer attention, simply so he wouldn't have to refer to her as ‘the PSO bitch’ in therapy.

“And why did you assault Captain Gerrard, Mr. Diaz?”

Buck let out a shuddering breath. Eddie desperately wanted to squeeze her hand, to reassure her in some way.

She hadn't looked at him since they sat down.

“He’s been insulting and belittling every firefighter at the 118 since he was made Captain. He said something that struck a little too close to home and I lost my temper. It won't happen again.”

The representative raised an eyebrow at him.

“It won’t?”

He shook his head.

“No, ma’am, it won’t. I’m in therapy with a department therapist and I will accept whatever disciplinary action the department sees fit. I will take the necessary measures to not let what anyone says to me set me off again.”

Eddie thinks that if this woman’s job wasn’t to be an impenetrable stone-faced bitch, she probably would have scoffed at his response.

“What did he say to you?”

Eddie choked on his spit.

“Excuse me?”

The woman blinked at him slowly, like she was making an effort to not call him stupid to his face.

“What did Captain Gerrard say to you to make you lose your temper and assault him? Multiple members of your station have filed reports regarding his behavior, but not you. I need to know what he said to you.”

That was weird, right? The department admitted to getting enough reports of Gerrard's subpar treatment of his subordinates that their PSO representative could bring it up without being prompted, but nothing had been done? That set off so many alarms in his head.

“He implied that myself and my partner were stupid, and that she was… unfit to be a parent.”

The woman looked at him expectantly.

“The ‘partner’ he was referring to, is this your work partner or your domestic partner?”

Eddie sighed. If he had a dollar for every time someone had asked him or Buck that question. Well, he probably wouldn't be having so much trouble finding a place to live in El Paso.

“My work partner. Firefighter Buckley.”

The woman nodded.

“And why did this ‘set you off’?”

God, he wishes Buck would look at him. He wishes they could be having this conversation in private. He wishes there was an easier way to say this. He wishes it didn't hurt so much.

“Buck is one of the smartest, most capable people I have ever met, and she has been since the day I met her. Every day she proves herself more than deserving of her job.”

The woman opened her mouth to prod further, but he cut her off.

“And she is an amazing mother to my son. She has been for years. When I couldn't be there for him, when I couldn't be what he needed, she was right there, even before his mother died. Any child would be lucky to have her as a mom.”

The room fell silent. Eddie almost felt smug about it. Looks like the PSO bitch was actually capable of being quiet.

“And you, Ms. Buckley?”

Well, fuck. Maybe not.

“Why are you here?”

Honestly, Eddie wanted to know that too. When they had sat down in the waiting room together, he had jokingly asked what she was in for. Unsurprisingly, she hadn't responded.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Greene.”

Mrs. Greene looked unimpressed.

“Why do you think you’re here?”

Buck took a deep breath.

“Gerrard…”

She trailed off, swallowing harshly.

“Gerrard made a few comments about us being in a relationship.”

Mrs. Greene wrote something down on the paper pad in front of her, carefully angling her arm so that neither of them could see it. Without looking up, she continued her line of questioning.

“About Mr. Diaz and yourself?”

Buck nodded, then cleared her throat when Mrs. Greene glanced at her.

“Yes.”

“Are you pregnant, Ms. Buckley?”

Eddie blinked at the woman sitting across from them. Where the hell had that come from?

“I am.”

Sure, it was probably the root of why they were here in the first place, but he had been under the impression that Mrs. Greene would have to be a bit more delicate in her probing.

“And is Mr. Diaz the father?”

Wasn't there some law about not asking your employees about this kind of stuff?

“He is.”

Though, he supposed that would have to fly out the window when it came to investigating fraternization cases.

“He is. And you did not disclose your relationship to the department?”

Not that that was what this was.

“There is no relationship to disclose.”

There was no fraternization between Eddie and Buck.

“It was a one-time thing.”

Mrs. Greene looked between them, not saying anything. A moment passed. Eddie let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

“Was it?”

Buck sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Her birthmark was pulled taught for just a second, and Eddie wanted nothing more than to press his lips to it once more.

“Two. It was two times. It still doesn't mean anything.”

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

“Well, that could have gone worse, huh?”

Dropping his hand from where it had been shielding his eyes against the bright LA sun as they crossed the street to the parking garage, Eddie turned to stare incredulously at Buck.

Of course, she was right. It could have gone worse. They could have been separated, a fraternization case could have been opened against them, Buck could have been placed on medical leave, Eddie could have been fired. In comparison, the month’s unpaid suspension for Eddie, potential temporary reassignment pending a physical for Buck, and the mandatory counseling sessions with a new department shrink for both of them almost felt like a slap on the wrist.

But Jesus Christ. Eddie still felt like a fire truck had landed on him. Not that out of the two of them, he would know anything about that. Maybe there was just something special about being forced to watch as the woman you’ve been in love with for almost eight years looks a stranger in the eyes and tells them having sex with you means nothing to her.

“‘It doesn't mean anything’?”

Buck let out a heavy sigh as the elevator doors opened. He put an arm out to keep the doors from closing on them, something he had learned to do early on in their friendship. He could only watch her get hit by closing elevator doors so many times in one day before stepping in. They stepped in in silence. Buck looked at the panel for a moment before her brows scrunched in confusion and she muttered something Eddie couldn't catch under her breath.

Buck had been complaining that she had been feeling more scatterbrained than usual recently. Nothing so severe that she couldn't work, but around the station, it wasn't uncommon to catch her pausing in the middle of a task, the confusion obvious in the way she tensed up and began muttering to herself. Eddie was used to her confusion being loud. She had no qualms with letting anyone near her know she had lost her train of thought, or forgot what she was doing, or had somehow lost something she had just been holding. He wasn’t used to her being so quiet.

He had suspected it was his fault all along. She only got like this when she was upset, and what was the most upsetting thing in her life these days, if it wasn't Eddie?

It was worse now that he knew.

Pregnancy brain fog, he realized. It was normal, he knew that. He remembered Shannon hating it. Even more than that, she had hated that even her doctors had insisted on calling it ‘Mommy Brain’, rather than the proper term. He didn't remember how early it had started for her. He wondered if Buck was far enough along for him not to worry about it.

“Three.”

He pointed to the button for the level where Buck’s jeep was. Distantly, he thought that nothing could keep him from worrying about Buck or the baby.

The baby. The last time there had been a baby for him to worry about had been fourteen years, three girlfriends, and eight hundred and one miles ago. An entire lifetime ago. He thought that was the most scared he'd ever been in his entire life. Raging infernos and sandy shootouts and judgmental parents had had nothing on the fear that seized him at the idea of building a family. Of ruining his best friend's life because he couldn't keep it in his pants.

And once again, here he was. He was terrified. Because last time, he hadn't had so much to lose. Sure, his parents had practically beat him over the head with the fact that he was throwing away his whole future over one stupid mistake. But now, he had a life. A shitty one, albeit, these last few months, but before that. Before buck had kissed a man and Eddie had imploded his whole life in response.

He felt nineteen again. His best friend was pregnant with his child, his parents thought he was incapable of being a father, and there was an ever-present overwhelming sense of dread looming over him. But he was losing so much more this time around. This life that he had built for himself and Chris. He spent almost ten years trying to give his son the kind of life he wanted as a child, and he washed it all away in one night.

Losing Shannon was something Eddie still hasn't fully come to terms with. Losing her almost killed him. Losing Buck would be a fate worse than death.

“I know.”

Buck let out a sharp breath through her nose and looked up at the ceiling. She blinked and put her head back down, still not looking at Eddie.

“You left.”

Her voice was thick, like she was trying to keep tears at bay already. Like just the idea of having this conversation with him was enough to make her cry.

“I know.”

He couldn't explain it. The pure terror that had shot through him when he woke up in Buck’s bed that morning. The way he felt everything crashing down around him as she smiled at him. The scream that tried to rip its way out of his throat when she pecked him on the lips before getting out of bed, shameless as the sheets fell to reveal her naked form.

“I told you I loved you.”

In the moment, it meant everything to him. It meant everything to hear her finally say it. To hear her put words to this thing between them. To name the creature sleeping on his chest.

“I know.”

In the moment, he had felt so seen by her. She took his loneliness from him with no complaints.

“I'm pregnant.”

In the moment, he had said it back. Of course he had. The love of his life had him pinned to her bed by the hips, hands braced on his chest, her face mere inches from his. And in that moment, she had told him she loved him. Whispered, not like it was a secret, but like it was precious. Like she hadn't wanted to risk it being stolen from them. She let it slip between his lips, feeding him the greatest thing he would ever taste.

“I know.”

In the morning, he hadn't said it back. He hadn't even given her the chance to say it to him. He’d ran away the first chance he saw. Ran from the most amazing woman he had ever been allowed to love. Because loving her was one thing. It was so woven into his being that loving her was indistinguishable from existing just as himself. But being loved back? That wasn't allowed.

The universe, Buck’s beloved universe, was not one in which Eddie Diaz was allowed to get what he wanted.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

Was it terrible that he only realized he loved her as he fucked her? Of course it was. Was it terrible that he promised himself she would never know, the next second? Of course it was. Was it terrible to leave her alone after, in the apartment he knew felt more like a tomb than a home to her? Of course it was.

Was it terrible now, to push that all aside without another thought, to grab her and push her up against the elevator wall, to ignore her protests and pushes, to claim her lips with his own?

They separated with an ugly wet sound, their chests heaving in tandem, and Eddie froze at the look on Buck’s face.

“Get off of me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Despite the words coming out of her mouth, she didn't look angry. She looked devastated. Like kissing her now was the worst thing Eddie could have done to her. Like tasting his lips again was akin to tasting poison.

“‘Fuck you’ doesn't mean kiss me!”

His heart pounded in his chest. He knew that. He did. He knew starting things wasn't the right response to being yelled at. He knew sex didn't stop fights. That's not why he kissed her. In that moment, with the fluorescent light beaming down on her, with the hot air milling uselessly around them, with the elevator shaking just a bit too much for Eddie to be comfortable with, he had kissed her because he loved her.

He couldn't respond. He could do nothing but stare at her. Her lips not yet swollen, her face not yet flushed, her tears not yet shed. He knew what the future looked like, staring it in the face, and he could do nothing to prevent it. It looked just like his past.

As she turned away from him and exited the elevator, Eddie could do nothing but follow her.

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

Looking back on it, Buck can admit that the whole thing was pretty… pathetic. She'd only been out so late because she wanted to eat her feelings away, but if anyone asked, it was because the baby was craving samosas. So really, what happened next was the baby’s fault. Or maybe it was Eddie's fault.

Maybe it was Tommy's fault.

It felt good to blame this entire ordeal on Tommy.

All she knew was that it wasn't her fault.

“Evan?”

Buck froze at the sound of his voice.

“Tommy?”

Buck tried not to cringe at the way her voice cracked around his name. She cleared her throat quietly, watching as he moved closer to where she had been standing and awkwardly trying to make it look like she wasn't watching the exhausted college kid making her samosas a little too intently.

This place might have the best vegan friendly reviews on her side of LA, but you could never be too careful.

“What are you doing here?”

They'd been far enough in their relationship by the first time she brought him here for Buck to know that telling Tommy she had taken him to one of Eddie's favorite places to eat after a long shift wouldn’t lead to the most pleasant use of their time together. So, she told him it was the closest place to the loft that made vegan friendly Indian food.

“Long day, didn't feel like cooking.”

Technically true. It had been a long day of avoiding Chim and Hen’s pitying looks when she was made man-behind for every call, ignoring Maddie’s calls and texts probing for information to help her in planning Eddie Diaz’s murder, and pretending that the last week of radio silence from Eddie wasn't the worst thing that had happened to her in a long time.

“Same.”

Thankfully, Tommy had never been that good at picking up on Bucks' moods unless she told him point blank that she was upset about something. He looked as glib as ever under the fluorescent lights.

“Looks like we’ll both be waiting a while, huh?”

God, Buck wished she could shake herself. Why did she have to sound so fucking stupid all of the time? They’d come here a lot while they were together. He knew what she got. She knew it took ten minutes longer to make his chana masala than her samosas. It had been a point of contention that she apparently complained about having to microwave them enough that Tommy had started anticipating being annoyed at her anytime they got Indian food.

“Mind if we do it together?”

It hadn’t all been bad, things with Tommy. Sure, it was easy to think they were, especially with everyone else egging her on, but in reality… She kind of missed him. So, she sat down with him. She sat down with him and let him ask her how things were going in her life, let him tell her how his life was. She told him about Maddie and Chim expecting their second child and about Eddie thinking about moving back to Texas to be with Chris. He told her about his mom going on a single’s cruise and about Sal going through his second divorce.

Her samosas arrive and she stood up, opening her mouth to say her goodbyes, telling Tommy that it was nice to see him, that they should do this again, and just generally putting her foot in her mouth by saying all the things everyone had tried so desperately to keep her from texting him when they broke up, until he reached across the table at the booth they had made themselves at home in and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“You know, I fought the urge to call you for months.”

She gaped at him.

“I drove past your place the other day, and all I could think about was pulling over and seeing if you were home.”

He wasn't Eddie.

“And, uh, if I had been?”

He would never be anything close to what Eddie was to her.

“I might have asked to come in.”

But he wanted her. He had always wanted her.

“I might have let you in.”

And tonight, it felt like it might be enough.

“You, uh, you still want to come in?”
--- --- ---
“Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

Tommy slammed the door shut behind him as he followed Buck into his apartment. Buck turned around, a small smile falling off her face. He had been quiet the whole drive there, letting Buck chatter at him about lionfish.

“What?”

She thought it had gone well. She liked Tommy's mother! And she thought Beverly liked her too! Why else would she have smiled at her and called her sweetheart and laughed at her jokes and told her to just call her Bev? Buck’s own mother hadn’t even done that for Buck.

“I just had to look my mother in the eyes and explain to her that my girlfriend was tripping over herself to answer the phone for a kid that isn't hers because she has some psychosexual obsession with another man.”

Buck gaped at him.

“Psychosexual-”

She cut herself off with an offended squawk. How dare he? Sure, she had left the table a little quicker than necessary, after a terse short-lived argument with Tommy and a brief apology that Bev waved off with a smile, but it was Chris!

She had made her feelings regarding Chris very clear to Tommy.

To insinuate that Buck only loved Chris as an extension of his father, that the little dog caged behind her ribs only wagged its tail when the boy smiled at her because it was Eddie's smile, that she had almost died for him for just the chance to grace a man’s bed? It filled her with rage.

The little dog that made its bed in her heart gnawed angrily at the bars of its kennel.

“You know how much Chris means to me, Tommy, Eddie has nothing to do with it-”

Tommy scoffed.

The dog was now thrashing its head back and forth, headless of the metal groaning all around it.

“She thought Eddie was your ex-husband.”

That one was entirely on Tommy. If he hadn't grabbed her wrist when she got up to take the call outside and told her to let Eddie handle it, his mother wouldn't even know Eddie’s name.

“Do you think I missed the way you went all gushy when she asked if Chris was your son?”

He paused before continuing, not giving Buck a second to defend the way she had acted when his mother had seen the picture the two of them making fishy-kissy faces in front of an exhibit at the aquarium she had set as his contact photo.

In her defense, Bev had said that he looked just like his mother, and that she was sure he was a little charmer just like her.

“She scolded me! Like I was a kid! Said that I of all people should be more understanding of a single mother trying to date!”

Buck didn't like where this was going. Tommy was not a violent man by any means, but sometimes she thought that he wanted to be. The things he said, the way that he talked to her, especially when it came to the topic of her behavior regarding Eddie, made her feel like she had just taken an open palm to the face.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward, her hand out to touch Tommy's arm. He always calmed down a little bit more when her apologies were accompanied by a placating rub of her hand over his arm and downturned eyes. Add a shy smile and a whispered ‘baby’ or ‘daddy’, and he crumbled even faster.

“Baby-”

Tommy shrugged her hand off with another scoff.

“Chris isn't yours. And neither is Eddie.”

Buck reared back like she'd been slapped.

“You need to get that through your head if you want this to go anywhere.”

Suddenly, Buck felt as if she was watching everything happen from somewhere far away. Like she was a character in a movie she was half paying attention to sitting on Eddie’s couch, the dog curled up in a tight ball unconcerned with a single thing happening outside of the bars made of her heartstrings, too content being near him to process something as trivial as her life falling apart.

“Then maybe I don't want this to go anywhere.”

She walked past him silently, paying no mind to his cut off shout as she shut the door behind herself.

And if she cried in her Jeep for twenty minutes in the parking lot of Tommy's apartment complex before driving to the liquor store and buying a six pack of Eddie's favorite beer to show up unannounced on his front porch with, no one had to know.

--- --- ---

When Buck wakes up, she is alone. She doesn't know what she was expecting from this, exactly, but she thought Tommy had, at the very least, enough respect for her to not leave her in the middle of the night. When he had rolled off of her with a huff and she started laughing, he got that look in his eye he always did, like he was trying to figure out if the joke she was about to let him in on was worth the eye roll that would no doubt accompany it. It was a wonder he hadn't completely detached his retinas before they broke up.

She was laughing because her samosas were definitely cold now.

He huffed again but quickly joined her in her laughter. Eyes closed, head thrown back, Adam’s Apple bobbing away. And suddenly things were not that funny anymore to Buck. Because this was what she had wanted. What she had practically begged him to give her for six months. And he had never given it to her. Tommy may have had many things in common with Eddie, but ‘being easy to be around’ was not one of them. Not a year ago.

She had watched as he pulled his pants back up, sans boxers, and made his way downstairs. He returned a few minutes later, startling Buck where she was starting to nod off. Being man-behind meant she had had no one to talk to far most of the busy day the 118 had had, and having no one to talk to meant her brain was going too fast for her to process, and no one was around to help her slow it down. So, to distract herself, she had deep cleaned the kitchen. Eddie had taken one look at her sitting on the floor with every coffee pod in the firehouse spread out in front of her and turned on his heel, announcing he was going on a coffee run. He happily let her pretend that the tears falling down her face in response to the wordlessly offered decaf oat milk lavender matcha latte was just the hormones.

Tommy plopped down on the bed next to her quietly, balancing his bowl of masala between his knees before leaning over to slide a pillow behind her back. He made a soft humming sound and a ‘come here’ motion, smiling when she leaned into his space. He brought a samosa up to her mouth and let it rest against her lips as she stared at him dumbly. He laughed again and nodded for her to go on.

They let the silence wash over them, quietly basking in the still air, the occasional sound of Tommy's fork clinking against his bowl the only disruption to their breathing. He was lighter now, somehow, she had thought. More open with her. As much as he liked to point the finger her way, she had felt closed off from him too. But now, here he was, hand feeding her food in her bed. He thought hand feeding your significant other was cheesy. He thought eating in bed was unsanitary. He never gave her bites of his food because of cross-contamination worries. But last night, bathed in the soft glow of Buck’s Roku screensaver, he fed her small bites of his masala in between samosas.

He had given her everything she had begged him for for six months. And she couldn't stop wishing it was Eddie in his place. She chased the thought away by taking Tommy's bowl from him, stacking it on top of her plate already sitting on the nightstand she never used, and throwing a leg across his hips. She didn't give him any time to complain about the crumbs that had fallen into his lap.

So maybe when she woke up, she had thought he would still be with her, at the very least. Telling herself that she would not be crying over Thomas fucking Kinard of all people, she sat up with a groan. She checked the time and sighed. Her alarm for her vitamins would be going off soon and she'd rather get the pain out of the way before she had to go down the stairs. If anyone had told her when she was signing her lease that every single day going down the stairs would make her wish she could self-amputate, it honestly would have been very appreciated. Especially if they included a preview of the ‘oh my fucking god who the fuck let me fold my knee like that for so long’ pain that happened every time she'd had sex since the titanium rods went into her leg.

Hissing a little, she started down the stairs, taking them one at a time, two feet on the step before moving onto the next, something only Chris was allowed to make fun of her for. She was so wrapped up in not falling off the stairs that she almost walked straight into Tommy. He steadied her by her shoulders and raised a brow. Smug fucking brow, she hated that thing. Eddie never looked at her smugly when he touched her like this. Not that Eddie was doing any kind of touching recently.

“I thought you left.”

He shook his head slightly, smiling down at her like she was a teething puppy.

“Not before feeding you.”

Buck let him guide her into the kitchen. She blinked at the spread laid out before her. There was bacon.

“The bacon…”

Tommy huffed.

“It's Morning Star, don't worry.”

She blinked.

“You, you got vegan bacon?”

She hadn’t even liked regular bacon before she’d gone vegan.

“What the hell?”

He laughed, cupping a hand over her elbow and guiding her to sit down.

“Figured you wouldn’t let me kiss you with the alternative in my mouth.”

“You want to kiss me?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

She gaped at him.

“Why not, Evan?”

The silence between them was suddenly interrupted by her alarm blaring, cutting off whatever Tommy had been gearing up to say. He turned toward the loft with a soft sigh.

“I’ll get it.”

Panic shot through her at the idea of him seeing her phone. Even if the alarm timed out and he didn't see the label, he would see her lock screen. When they had been talking last night, she made sure it was shuffled to a picture of her and Maddie, pre-pregnancies. But when she woke up, as she did every day for the last few months, she shuffled it back to a digital scan of her latest sonogram.

The alarm cut off and with a sick sense of dread, she knew he had seen it.

He returned quietly, not quite looking at her. He set the phone down on the island and slid it closer to her wordlessly. There, slightly obscuring the bottom of the sonogram, was the little banner letting her know her alarm had been snoozed. Tommy always hit snooze instead of dismissing the alarm, leading to her having to do it manually or forgetting and getting jump scared by it nine minutes later. Suffice to say, he'd seen the alarm labeled 'Baby Making Pills'. And, unfortunately, he wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together to get a baby.

He cleared his throat, then swallowed. He said nothing.

“It's not- it's not yours.”

He shook his head.

“No, you would have told me, right?”

Not to mention she probably would have already had the baby.

She nodded.

“It's Eddie's, isn't it?”

Buck just blinked.

“Tommy…”

He shook his head and scoffed.

“What, you thought I'd want to sit around and help you raise Diaz's kid again?”

Buck could feel her hackles raising. This was exactly what she was hoping to avoid.

“That's not what this was-”

She'd been fighting enough with Eddie recently; the last thing she wanted was this.

“No?”

Eddie didn't even want to raise a kid with her, she wasn't so delusional to think anyone else would.

“No, Tommy.”

She took a deep breath.

“I don't have to want to sleep with everyone I have feelings for, and I don't have to have feelings for everyone I sleep with.”

Tommy stepped back like buck had slapped him.

“Jesus, Evan, this is why we broke up.”

He turned suddenly, stomping towards her door.

“I have a shift soon. Good luck with… everything.”

He wrenched it open without looking back at her.

“Hope you two can get your heads out of your asses in time to not fuck up another kid.”

And with a slam of a door to an apartment that had not felt like home in seven years, Buck was alone again.

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

“When did you get that?”

Buck looked at Eddie in confusion, trying to follow his gaze only to fail when she realized he was looking at her ribcage. The question came out of him lightly, too lightly for him to have realized exactly what it was he was looking at. She swallowed nervously as he took a step closer to her.

“Back in June, I think. July, maybe. Around the time me and Tommy broke up.”

She cursed herself mentally. She didn't know why she brought him up, again. In the week since their disastrous hook-up, she felt like she hadn't managed to have a single conversation with Eddie without mentioning the other man. Every time she did, Eddie got this look in his eyes that had shivers running down Buck's spine, sure he could tell what she'd done just by looking at her.

“Not that it was because of the tattoo, I mean- That'd be a pretty stupid reason to break up- Just, I got it a few days before- Not that he was a fan of it-”

Sometimes, Buck wanted to chase whatever small neurotic animal was running wild in her brain with a hammer. Maybe then she would have better luck pretending she had something resembling a brain to mouth filter when she was nervous.

“Why would Tommy have a problem with you getting a new tattoo?”

Buck blinked. She blinked again. Sure, she hadn't exactly told Eddie just how much strife he had caused in her last relationship, but he had to know it wasn't exactly the picture of domestic bliss to get a tattoo in honor of another man’s child.

“Because it-”

She cut herself off with a faint gasp as Eddie's fingers brushed her ribs. He hadn't touched her there since the night she threw up blood on Bobby's patio. She dreamed about it sometimes. About how big his hands had felt wrapped around her waist. About where he might have put them next if they were not in front of their family.

“Is that a Saint Christopher medal?”

Buck nodded wordlessly, ignoring the way her heart beat at the roughness of his voice.

“Is that my Saint Christopher?”

Tears gathered in her eyes as she nodded again. She knew what it meant to Eddie, okay? She really did. She knew it wasn't hers to feel any certain way about, certainly not to immortalize on her own flesh. It was something sacred, something that was supposed to be reserved for Eddie, Christopher, and Shannon.

Maybe it would be easier if Chris had taken more after Eddie than his mother in the looks department. Maybe it would be easier to shake off every nosy PTA mom, every well meaning old lady at the grocery store, and every jolly Mall Santa’s Elf that wanted to tell her what a wonderful son she had if he didn’t take after Shannon. She knew, every step of the way, every time she didn't deny their claims, that she was stealing a dead woman’s son. Her husband. Her whole life, maybe. She also knew that with Chris gone and Shannon dead, Eddie had stopped wearing it. It couldn't have been easier to sneak a picture of it where it sat on his bedside table under the guise of grabbing a hoodie to sleep in.

She hadn't slept in Eddie's house since he found out about the baby, and she counted her lucky stars that he didn't say anything about her newest body modification each time they undressed in each other’s presence.

“You didn't-”

She cut him off with a harsh scoff.

“Eddie, I could get your name tattooed on my ass and it wouldn't be any of your business.”

She sighed, avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry.”

She took a shuddering breath, willing her tears to stay where they were until she could hide them.

“Sorry, I just, I didn't know if I would ever see him again.”

Eddie stiffened at that, his fingers digging into the spaces between her ribs ever so slightly.

“In my coma dream-”

His hand dropped from her side, and she mourned its warmth.

“Buck, you don't have to-”

She shook her head and brought a hand up to his chest.

“Let me say this. Please. It's important.”

He let her hand rest there, rising and falling with each ragged breath he let out.

“In my coma dream, right before I woke up, I saw Chris.”

Once upon a time, he might have covered her hand with his own. Once upon a time, she might not have felt like she was doing it to keep him at a safe distance rather than to feel his heartbeat.

“I saw Chris, and he asked me to help him find you. I knew it wasn't him, I knew but still, I-”

She drew in her own ragged breath, pretending she couldn't see him doing that thing he did, infuriatingly weaving his head around like a snake, trying to catch her eyes.

“I looked him in the eyes, and I said, ‘I'll always feel bad about this’ and I left him.”

His heart thudded under her palm.

“Because he wasn't real, not the version of him that I was seeing, and I couldn't help him.”

Eddie took a step back, his eyes sharpening.

“My son is real.”

A tear fell down Buck's cheek.

“That's not what I’m saying Eddie.”

She felt desperate. More desperate than she ever had. Why couldn't he see what she was trying to show him? Why couldn't he see that she was hurting over the loss of Chris just as much as he was?

“Then what are you saying, Buck?”

In her most lonely moments, she thought of Chris as hers, too. Sure, she was his legal guardian if anything happened to Eddie, and she was his emergency contact right after Eddie himself and right before Pepa, but beyond that. Beyond all the safeguards Eddie had put in place to make sure the two most important people in his life would never be alone even if he had to leave them, Buck still thought of the boy as her own.

“I'm saying that maybe, the version of Chris that you have in your head isn't real. And maybe you can't help that version of him.”

Eddie didn't want to knock the door down. Buck understood that, really, she did. But her parents couldn’t have even been bothered to acknowledge the metaphorical door. Still to this day, every time they spoke to her they eventually found a way to berate her for not reaching out to them. Buck’s parents were nothing like Eddie. They'd probably be offended at the comparison.

So yeah, it probably was just her own shit bubbling under the surface of every conversation they had about Chris. But still.

“You need to talk to him. You can't just pack up his whole life and permanently move it without at least asking him how he feels.”

Since she found out Eddie hadn't told Chris about the baby, things had been different. Maybe she hadn't been as justified as she thought she was, storming into the house, calling him a coward for not coming clean about how things were going in LA. When she found out he still planned on moving to Texas and still hadn't said anything to his son, it was just another nail in their coffin.

“Eddie-”

His gaze turned to stone.

“Can you let me think my own goddamned thoughts for five fucking seconds or do you need to give me your two cents on that too?”

She took a step back, bumping into his dresser, flinching at the steel in his words.

“You're not my wife, Buck.”

He cut her off before she could respond.

“And you're sure as shit not Chris’s mother. You don't get to say that. Not to me.”

--- --- ---

In the aftermath, Buck tried to sleep. She wasn't very successful. She tossed and turned, running the conversation back over and over, desperately trying to figure out what she could have said differently.
In the end, there was nothing she could do but lay her head on Eddie's pillow and try not to cry as the scent of his sweat and shampoo washed over her.

The dread that washed over her at the slam of Eddie's front door hours earlier returned as his bedroom door creaked open. As silently and inertly as possible, she wondered if she could convincingly pull off pretending to sleep. Tommy and Taylor had both told her she snored on more than one occasion. Eddie had never complained about it.

She kept her eyes shut as Eddie slipped under the blanket wordlessly, his bare legs brushing hers.

He turned on his side, facing away from her. He pressed himself against her chest, quietly mumbling before pulling her arm around his waist. They hadn't done this in a while. They used to, every once in a while. They woke up in each other's arms a few times during quarantine, but in their most tired moments, after a long shift or a few drinks, Eddie would let her hold him in her arms on his couch. They hadn't gotten drunk together in six months and they hadn't gone home together in the same amount of time either.

They cut anything even remotely non-platonic out of their relationship the second Eddie snuck out of her apartment after telling her that he loved her.

“I think I might be broken.”

Buck had not known whether things would be better or worse if she stayed after Eddie left.

“I don't know how to do this.”

With the man she loved laying in her arms, spilling his fears to her, she still didn't know.

“I married the last woman I got pregnant, and you know how that ended.”

For a moment, she wondered if she should let him think she was asleep. But he deserved her honesty at the very least, after everything.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn't speak again for a while and Buck let his deep breaths lull her almost to sleep.

“She wanted me to go home with her.”

She startled just a bit as he spoke again. She didn't know who he was talking about, but she didn't want to break the fragile spell the moon had casted on them, the gentle way the dust motes danced in its light, pushed and pulled by their breathing.

“And I didn't want her anymore. I spent half the time we were talking bitching about you, but the second she said that I-”

Eddie cut himself off, shaking his head minutely.

“She said ‘You think that bitch wife of yours is still up, waiting for you?’. I almost punched her.”

Buck let out a wet laugh.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

He didn't respond.

“Would it really be that bad, if I was your wife?”

Eddie turned in her arms and brought a hand over to cup the left side her face. He moved his other hand to the right side of her face and traced a spot above her eyebrow, letting his fingers tap over a few hairs before they trailed down to another spot at the corner of her eye.

“Not at all.”

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

PEANUT GALLERY

Me: *typing*

Chris met his cousin Mickey’s best friend on the first day of eighth grade. He’s heard a lot about her by the time they did finally meet, three months into his stay in El Paso. They hadn’t met any earlier because, ironically, she spent her summers in Los Angeles with her aunt. Despite all that he’s heard about her, he wasn’t expecting her to be so… the way she was.

Me: I miss my buck
🖤Joy🖤: whomst/whamst?
denn-o-mite: his stepmom

For one thing, her name was Joy. And she was a goth.

Me:🙄shes not and yuo know that
MOUSE: she might as well be
🖤Joy🖤: GUYS
🖤Joy🖤: FOCUS
🖤Joy🖤: I STILL DONT KNOW WHO BUCK IS

Dad and Buck would have laughed at that. Abuelo just sighed loudly and shook his head, the old-people version of rolling his eyes, and Grandma had made a comment about not understanding kids these days.

Me: shes my dads best friend
MOUSE: “best friend”
denn-o-mite: *image attached*

Chris thought it was kinda cool. He would never dress like that, especially not in the El Paso or Los Angeles heat, and if he tried to wear makeup like hers he'd probably look like a clown. But she pulled it off, in his opinion.

Joy: OH
Joy: i thought that was your mom
Me: …
denn-o-mite: everyone thinks taht at first

They were fast friends, after their disastrous first meeting. In all of Mickey's ramblings about her best friend, she neglected to mention that the girl was hard of hearing and mostly lip-read. Which led to Chris calmly asking her to move out of the path he was walking down, then a little less calmly, then yelling at her, and then finally crashing into her lunch tray first. Even the most beautiful goth in the world can't pull off a shirt covered in sloppy joes. Especially when they curse up a storm after being knee-capped with a crutch. Grandma still calls her ‘that foul-mouthed girl’ when she thinks Chris can't hear her.

🖤Joy🖤: HEY WAIT
🖤Joy🖤: what about: “my dad facetimed me and he had all these stupid ugly decorations up and he had one this stupid ugly party hat and my mom was there with her stupid ugly boyfriend and his stupid ugly face”
MOUSE: don’t forget his dads stupid ugly mustache
denn-o-mite: yeah and your dads stupid ugly mustache

They’re boyfriend-and-girlfriend, now, he thinks. Kinda. The way he and Penny were boyfriend-and-girlfriend, kinda. But different.

Me: Wht?🫤
Me: … I do not remember this
🖤Joy🖤: babe to be fair about this whole thing I fully thought you ran away because your parents were getting a divorce until like the week after your birthday when you mentioned visiting your moms grave
Me: bucks not my mom. or my step mom. I used to think she was when I was a kid. she showed up when I was like seven and she just never left. her and my dad are like connected at the hip.

Penny didn’t take him on dates. Joy somehow always has just enough money to get movie tickets and enough tokens at the batting cages to keep them busy for an hour. Chris barely managed to get away from his abuelos with enough money for two hot dogs and an ICEE.

Me: like a year after my mom died one of my teachers told my dad at pickup that I looked exactly like my mom and he just shut down.
Me: he’s always been weird about mom. Even before she died. He didn’t even cry at her funeral. I don’t know if he didn’t actually love her or if he just never let himself mourn her or what.
🖤Joy🖤: oh that’s not…

It started as a group outing, his grandparents more than happy to drop him off at the movies if they thought Mickey, Jason, Justin, John, and Mirabel were acting as buffers between him and Joy. Slowly, and hopefully without Tía Ana’s knowledge, Chris and Joy had started going alone. Every few weekends, just to keep Abuelo and Grandma off of the scent, they would invite everyone else to come along. But the first and third weekends of the month, it was just the two of them.

MOUSE: dude
denn-o-mite: of course your dad loved your mom Chris
🖤Joy🖤: yeah he wouldn’t have let her come back if he didn’t

Chris doesn’t take any pictures of her alone once he finds out Abuela is going through his phone every night. He deletes any incriminating texts and offloads Instagram every night after dinner, and his friends know not to text him in the middle of the night. He wonders idly if that’s how things were for his dad, then almost laughs at the idea of his dad trying to figure out how to offload an app from his phone.

Me: I think that was more about me than them
Me: I don’t know. Maybe he did love her. None of his relationships have worked since she died.
🖤Joy🖤: what about Buck?
Me: I asked him why they weren’t dating once. Like a few years ago, way after my mom died. And that’s how I got a super awkward talk from my dad about what lesbians are like I don’t have lesbian aunts

He can almost hear the self-deprecating laugh Buck had failed to cover up before telling him what he suspected was a heavily-edited-to-be-kid-friendly version of the time his parents walked in on her kissing a girl in high school when his dad caught him ‘two-timing’ girls in his class. She had told him her parents hadn’t cared enough about her to do more than shake their heads and close her door a little harsher than they normally did.

denn-o-mite: lesbians ftw!!!
MOUSE: yeah but bucks not a lesbian
denn-o-mite: unless Ive gravely misunderstood the meaning of ‘my moms stupid ugly boyfriends stupid ugly face’

He overheard Buck and dad talking in the kitchen later, laughing loud and free. When dad had poked her in the side and ribbed her about how kid friendly her story actually was, she confirmed Chris’ suspicions by telling his dad that she ‘had her hand shoved so far into Leah Kaminski’s pants that she had zipper marks on her wrist for the rest of the night’.

🖤Joy🖤: HEY YEAH
🖤Joy🖤: mommy do got a boyf
MOUSE: and the way she looks at your dad isn’t very lesbianly of her
Me: yeah no bucks not a lesbian. My dad just literally never asked. I mean to be fair stupid ugly tommy was the first guy she’s dated the whole time we’ve known her. There have been several women.

Given the situation around his conception, the idea of shoving his hand into any girl’s pants terrified him.

🖤Joy🖤: 💀
🖤Joy🖤: don’t slut shame your mom!
denn-o-mite: your dad is so stupid 😭
Me: the last time she answered a call she got really weird when we were talking about my dad
Me: is it weird that i just got mad at him all over again?

Not that they’re doing anything like that.

denn-o-mite: I’m gonna say something
denn-o-mite: and you’re not gonna like it
denn-o-mite: but dude
denn-o-mite: have you thought about just telling him how you feel and seeing how he reacts?
MOUSE: yeah why don’t you let him explain himself?
🖤Joy🖤: the worst thing that can happen is you don’t like what he has to say
denn-o-mite: the worst thing that can happen is you never coming back
🖤Joy🖤: DUDE

They’d just barely gotten to the making out in the back row of their local movie theater stage a week earlier.

denn-o-mite: you can make long distance work I believe in you
denn-o-mite: I don’t believe in my ability to get kosher tamales for free without the hook up
Me: i told you to just ask her
denn-o-mite: and I told you I’d rather kill myself than ask your buck to do anything kitchen related

He realizes he loves her, not during their first make out session, but twenty minutes later after an old woman puts an end to it by harshly tapping on Joy’s shoulder and clearing her throat once they separate, when she laughs at something on the big screen so hard that blue slushy shoots out of her nose and for just a second, he thinks he’s dying.

denn-o-mite: what if she does it in my kitchen and asks me t help
denn-o-mite: you know i cant say no to her
🖤Joy🖤: pussy
MOUSE: I’d do anything for free tamales

He doesn't die.

Me: I’m gonna call her
denn-o-mite: stfu I hate you you goth bitch
denn-o-mite: do it Chris! Do it for the tamales!!!
denn-o-mite: 🫔 🫔 🫔
🖤Joy🖤: Don’t do shit for him Chris!!!

He also doesn't tell Joy about his revelation. Joy is eagerly counting down the days until her mom’s boyfriend does something shitty enough that her aunt lets her move in with her, and Chris is dreadfully anticipating the day his abuelos sit him down to tell him he isn’t going back to LA.

MOUSE: yeah fuck him up pooks!
denn-o-mite: muting you all
🖤Joy🖤: good luck we love you!!!

So, he doesn’t say anything.

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

Chris is coming home.

He's coming home. He FaceTimed Buck, just barely catching her leaving Eddie's house. The boy was too smart for his own good, immediately recognizing the upper walls and ceiling of their living room. And so, Eddie found her, twenty minutes later, sitting on his couch and crying around a huge grin. She had looked up at him, squinting in the early morning sun, and handed him her phone, not trusting her voice.

They’d gone to work together that day, hand in hand, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheering with good-natured eye rolls. When Hen had asked if there was anything they needed to tell the team, Eddie had squeezed Buck's hand before dropping it in favor of showing the other woman his phone.

08:15

Chris:
youre bringnig buck 2 right

Of course, mijo.
Who do you think is going to do all the driving?

Chris:
👍❤️

Hen chuckled softly as she scrolled through the messages between Chris and Eddie, some dictated by Buck, Chris telling his father the best routes and all the stops they could make as if Buck hadn't started looking up that exact thing the second he told her. She reached the end and looked at them with wide eyes that darted back and forth between the two of them and Eddie's phone. A grin crept its way across her face as Eddie and Buck nodded in unison.

She threw her arms around them, rocking them back and forth and telling them how happy she was for their little family. She let them go as Bobby approached and pulled Buck into party planning mode with her as Eddie went through the itinerary the three of them wrote up together and what it would mean for the vacation days they'd stocked up over the years with Bobby.

That had been Wednesday morning. The high of it had gotten Buck and Eddie through their twenty-four-hour shift in the blink of an eye. At noon on Thursday, Eddie had shot off a quick text to Chris telling him how much he loved him and confirming the time to expect them Saturday morning before settling into the first truly peaceful bout of sleep he’d had since Chris left.

With none of his usual post-shift-nap grogginess, Eddie woke quickly and peacefully. Ignoring his phone where it lay plugged in on his bed-side table, he made his way first to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen. He toasted a bagel for himself and, deciding he could indulge himself, just this once, slathered it in way too much cream cheese and the pepper jelly Abuela and Buck had conspired to get to him for his last birthday.

He deserved it, didn't he? Just this once?

After finishing his sweet treat and a glass of water, he went back to his room. He reached for his phone, already anticipating the barrage of texts Buck always sent when they had road trip plans. Las Vegas a year after they’d met, Catalina after he’d been shot, Solvang after Chris did a report on it, and Big Sur after the lightning strike. Joshua Tree after Chris had left. They’d have to do that one again, him and Buck and Chris and the baby.

They hadn't told Chris about the baby, and yet the boy had finally solved that particular fight for them without even knowing it. They would tell him before they left Texas. They were going to take him to a park near his childhood house, one he had taken Chris to a lot as a young child and tell him that he was going to be a big brother. He could yell at them and shout ‘Finally!’ at the sky and call them stupid and pitch ridiculous and self-honoring baby names until he was blue in the face, and then they would bring him home.

That was if he didn't know after taking one look at Buck. Buck who despite being five and a half months pregnant, had looked completely normal up until very recently. Nine days ago, not that Eddie would admit to anyone that he had been counting the exact seconds since it happened, Buck had very uncharacteristically waddled into the station in a large winter coat and unceremoniously dragged Eddie away from his conversation with Bobby. Literally dragged him, right into a supply closet. Without a word she threw off her coat, unbuttoned her shirt and… there it was.

A bump. A baby bump. Their baby. Buck and Eddie's baby.

Eddie had slowly reached out with shaking hands and stopped just short of actually touching her. His fingertips just barely brushed her stomach as he looked into her eyes. With a small nod of her head, he took a step forward and cupped his hand over her stomach, separated from her bare skin only by the thin yellow tank top under her button up, whispering a hello to their child. Buck let out a wet laugh as her hand softly covered his. Eddie had no idea how long they had been in there and couldn't have cared less about the looks and comments thrown their way as they exited the supply closet together, Buck’s shirt hanging open around her slightly protruding stomach.

The next day, they went to Buck's sonogram appointment together for the first time. The nurse had playfully batted at him with a sly grin when he stumbled through asking for a physical copy. It sat in his wallet during work, was pinned to his fridge when he cooked or ate, and sat on his bed-side table propped up against his alarm clock when he slept. He was itching to send a picture of it to Chris every time he saw it.

Eddie tapped at his phone, ready to fend off Buck’s packing anxieties. He clicked on his message app and felt his breath catch at the first result. At the top of his screen, the worst thing he had ever seen shone up at him in the dim light of his bedroom. He clicked on it as if that would change what it said. He checked the time it had been sent, his heart beating heavily in his chest. Fifteen minutes. His world had ended fifteen minutes ago, and he hadn’t even known. He’d been too busy wasting time making a stupid bagel and believing things could ever get better for him.

18:45

Chris:
I changed my mind. I don’t want you to come. Please don’t call me.

--- --- ---

It's a long shot, Buck knows that. What self-respecting preteen is coherent before six in the morning?

But it has to be worth something. Her hands shake as she scrolls through her Instagram followers. Between the cooking and baking videos she posts, the thirst traps disguised as workout progress tracking, and the sneaky behind the scenes pictures she takes at calls and around the firehouse, she gets a few new followers a day. If she can just scroll far enough, fast enough, and power through the way her eyes are blurring with tears and exhaustion, she might be able to fix this.

There! She almost drops her phone before tapping on the little picture so hard she's a little surprised the screen doesn't crack. That little circle, with its grainy picture of Chris and a girl who’s name Buck had only learned through one of the weirdest dms she'd ever gotten, was her salvation. She quickly clicked through the black and white selfie with a Morrissey song playing over it, a picture of a dog that looked like a moldy rag, and a shaky video of someone handing Chris a decapitated gingerbread man while several kids his age banged on a table. The little ‘SOUND ON’ sticker in the corner called to her like a siren, but the silence in Eddie's truck still feels too fragile to break, even after being on the road for ten hours.

buck_buckley: I hate to do yhis but chris isnt answering his phone and were relay worried about him
buck_buckley: We were supposed to pick him up tomorrow but he texted his dad last night and told him not to come
buck_buckley: He wont respond to eithe rof our tests and our calls wont go through
buck_buckley: We've been trying all night
buck_buckley: I think he blocked us

odetojoy: u need to come. hes been so excited to go home.
odetojoy: we threw him a party and everything yesterday. theres no way he changed his minf.
odetojoy: he isnt responding to mine or mickey’s calls or texts either. they probably still have his phone. they dont give it to hin until he gets in the car.
odetojoy: ill tellyou as soon as he texts me tho. he usually does as soon as he can.

buck_buckley: Can you tell him we’re an hour away? Please

odetojoy: ofc

As they drive past Las Cruces, Eddie breaks his silence. He clears his throat, and Buck almost jumps out of her skin. The sunrise paints his face in purples and oranges, perfectly highlighting the muscles in his jaw as they clench and unclench.

“Do you think Chris would want a brother or sister?”

Buck huffs a small laugh. Jee had thrown a fit when her parents had tried to sit her down and tell her about the bakery’s mix up. Somehow, she just couldn't see Chris doing the same, even when he was Jee’s age.

“I don't think he’ll care.”

She watches as his grip tightens on the steering wheel and places a hand on his knee.

“He’ll just be excited to be a big brother.”

He sighs.

“You think so?”

She hums and nods. They sit in silence for a while, watching the highway pass in a blur of scraggly trees and other vehicles.

“I think I want a girl.”

Buck hadn't really given much thought to what she wanted their baby to be, even before she decided she wanted the gender to be a surprise. Not the shape of their nose, the color of their eyes, whether they got Eddie's clear skin or her acne prone skin. But now, suddenly, she aches with the thought of it. Of a little girl with her curls and his eyes.

“Curly hair and brown eyes. That's all I want.”

It's seven in the morning when they pull up in front of Eddie's parents’ house. The sun is just barely peeking through the trees surrounding the property. They’re cutting it close; Eddie is well aware. His father is one of those ‘early is on time, on time is late, and if you’re late don't even bother showing up’ types. They'd missed Mass once because of it. There’s a chance that all he’ll get out of showing up at his parents’ house is a shouting match with his mother, and he’ll have to pull Chris out of school.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed before turning the truck off. They sat in silence, letting the gentleness of the countryside dawn wash over them. The wind in the trees and the cars on the road behind his parents' house.

Buck cleared her throat.

“You said he was staying in your old room, right?”

Eddie hummed, confusion leaking into his tone.

“Yeah?”

Buck started moving, unbuckling her seatbelt as her gaze fixed on something through the windshield. She pointed toward the side of the Diaz house.

“Well, uh, I think there's a girl trying to climb through his window.”

Chapter Text

DECEMBER-FIVE MONTHS ALONG

Buck doesn't hate people. She doesn't really have it in her. She doesn't hate the woman who made it impossible for her to ever go to therapy in person again, she doesn't hate the couple who made her hurt herself over and over for a shred of their attention, she doesn't hate the man who still only tells her he loves her when she's already crying.

But now, she is shaking with the hatred she holds for Chris' grandparents.

She kept her head, while it was happening. Through manhandling a teenage girl out of Chris’ window, through Eddie's parents threatening to call the cops on them, through the shitshow that was Chris realizing she was pregnant.

Through Helena shrieking in Joy’s face about tainting her grandson. Through Chris’ face, so happy to see the two of them even with all of the screaming, shuttering in an oh-so-familiar way as he pulled away from their hug, eyes focused on her stomach. Through Ramon admonishing Eddie for trying to replace Chris with the first woman he saw.

She was as calm and collected as she knew how to be through all of it.

But now. Now she was shaking. With Eddie sleeping off the eleven hour drive and what she was pretty sure was his parents disowning him, and Chris staring blankly out the window with his headphones playing music so loud she could hear it over the sound of the truck on the asphalt, she could do nothing but stare ahead and shake.

Her parents were bad parents, she knew that. She'd known that for a while. They'd spent the first thirty years of her life making her feel unwanted and unloved as punishment for a slight they refused to make her aware of. Maybe if they’d been more emotionally present in her formative years, they'd have more in common with the Diazes. But as things stood, she was a little thankful for their absence. Wearing sneakers under her prom dress was met with the same blank disapproval as not taking the trash out and accidentally breaking the hinges off her bedroom door. Hurting herself was the only thing that ever ignited sparks in their eyes.

But they had never isolated Buck. Never cut her off from Maddie or her grandparents or her cousins or her friends. Buck had never tiptoed around her parents. She lived with the, maybe unhealthy, knowledge that nothing she ever did would warrant any consequences outside of being yelled at for a few hours.

She never learned to sneak around, to hide what she was doing or who she was doing it with. Her friends didn't limit themselves around her for fear of never seeing her outside of school again.

Now she had an answer to why Chris had seemed so distant. Why he never responded to her messages. Why Eddie could never get more than fifteen minutes from him over the phone.

Helena Diaz was a boundary lacking bitch from the depths of hell. And Ramon was as spineless as he was cruel, to enable her without a second thought.

Chris was going to be fourteen soon, was going to be in high school before they could even blink, and his grandparents confiscated his phone at eight forty-five every night before going through it, checking messages and call logs and photos to make sure he was living the life they wanted him to be living.

A life that apparently didn't involve Eddie.

The steering wheel creaked under her hands.

In Bowie, Arizona, Chris leans forward and puts his hand on Buck's shoulder. She almost swerves into the next lane. With the vehicles behind her already honking up a storm, and one ambitious old man in an early 2000’s impala changing lanes just to get ahead of her, Buck can't take a chance looking back at the boy. Her heart beats wildly as she meets his eyes in the rear view mirror. His expression doesn’t make her feel any better.

“Is it Dad’s?”

She doesn't need him to clarify what he’s talking about but…

If it will buy her a few more minutes in the world where she is Chris's best friend, where she can explain the tension between her and Eddie away by saying it's just boring grown-up stuff he wouldn’t care about, then she’ll take it.

“W-what?”

By the way he looks at her, Chris knows exactly what she's doing, and it isn't working. Why would it? He isn't seven anymore, isn't her little Superman. He’ll never be the little boy who sat on her shoulders and erupted into giggles when the elephant they were feeding tried to take his glasses ever again.

He rolled his eyes.

“The baby, Buck. You’re not far along enough for it to be Tommy's and you've been too depressed to date anyone else.”

Buck spluttered.

“I haven't been too depressed-”

But she has, hasn't she? The man Eddie walked in on her with had been a rebound. One that hadn't been going very well, if she was being honest with herself. Three dates and she still had a hard time remembering if his name had been Brandon or Brendan. And after that first night with Eddie, she had felt too broken to even leave her apartment, never mind go looking for another hopeless fling that would fizzle out a few months down the road.

“You don't even know how far along I am.”

Chris sat back with a huff.

“If it's Tommy's then why are you here?”

It stung, to have Chris question her like that. To question her place with them like anything could truly change them. Even if the baby was Tommy's, a thought that she can admit makes a gross nervous sweat break out on the back of her neck, she would be here for this. For Eddie. For Chris.

“It's not Tommy's.”

He shoots her a ‘no duh’ look from where he’s slumped against the seat.

“It's complicated, Chris."

Understatement of the century. Navigating her pregnancy and job, not telling anyone about the pregnancy until Gerrard spilled the beans, actively seeking out an unnamable sexual relationship with the father of her baby while he refuses to talk about it. That's all complicated. Doing it all at the same time feels like a giant wave pulling her under.

“Right.”

If anyone knows what a wave pulling you under feels like, it's Chris. Buck still wakes up in the middle of the night, sticky with sweat she learned not to wash off the hard way, breathing in ragged bursts, her heart racing. She used to call Eddie when it happened, dropping little hints here and there until he asked if she wanted him to show her Chris. The first time she dreamed of the tsunami after Chris left, she tried to call him. Only for Helena Diaz to answer and tell her just how inappropriate she thought it was for a grown woman to be calling a child she wasn't related to in the middle of the night.

She’d left the calling to Chris after that.

“I'm not a kid anymore, Buck.”

She knows that. She aches with that knowledge in her darker moments.

“No, I- I mean it, Chris, really.”

She knows they aren't who they were when they met. They’ve both grown too much to be those people anymore. For the better, really, but still…

“It's messy and-and complicated and your dad and I have no idea what we're doing. But we're working on it, okay?”

They have grown. No more Bucky, no more Superman.

“We're trying.”

They aren't those people anymore, time and distance stripping them of those identities.

“You’re not my mom.”

She wishes she could feel anything other than numb at his words. All she's wanted, for just a little longer than she's known the Diazes, was to be a wife, a mother, a partner. To be someone who belonged to someone, something.

“I- I know that, bud.”

And she does belong to the Diazes, she realized not too long ago. Mind, body, and soul. It all belongs in the walls of their little bungalow on Bedford street. But they seem dead-set on reminding her that they don't belong to her. She’s spent so long trying to not be Shannon, to not replace her. The other night, with Eddie, she got her wish, finally. The assurance she's needed for so long. She will never be Chris's mother, or Eddie's wife.

Now she just needs to learn how to live with it.

“But you’re gonna be my sister's mom. Or my brother’s.”

Six and twenty-seven. A little boy scared for his dad and a woman desperate for a home.

“I don’t want to just call you my sister's mom. You're more than that.”

Thirteen and thirty-four. Not much has changed.

“And step mom is… eugh.”

She lets out a little laugh and tries to quickly wipe away the tears pooling on her waterline. Even with everything that has happened, she still feels like a scared kid sometimes.

“How about… I’m just your Buck? Like I always have been.”

She watches as Chris nods stiffly at the rear view mirror and wonders if he feels the same way.

Chapter Text

JANUARY-SIX MONTHS ALONG

In the month since they brought Chris home, Eddie hasn't seen Buck much, outside of work. They've both been working a lot, recently, but their shifts haven't been lining up as neatly as they normally do. Bobby hasn't been letting her pick up any overtime, but she's volunteered for every person who needed a shift covered or swapped. Eddie, on the other hand, has picked up just about every available hour of overtime he could, saving up for… he doesn't even know what. The baby? Chris? A new place? A new life?

They still haven't talked about it, about what the baby means for them. For their relationship. Buck has spent so much time and energy trying to convince him and Chris that nothing has to change, that things can stay exactly the way they were, that Eddie is starting to wonder if she actually believes that.

He knows he doesn't. He knows what having a baby does to people. To him.

They were supposed to talk about it today. Buck had gotten it into her head that they needed a neutral place to discuss their issues, somewhere neither of them lived, or liked, or wanted to go to, or had even been to. Which is how Eddie Diaz has found himself sitting in a Starbucks twenty minutes away from Bucks loft, staring at the wall while the teenage barista looks at him every few minutes like she’s trying to explode him with her mind.

Buck is late. Thirty minutes late.

Buck is never late.

Buck is, if anything, chronically early. Once, when the aquarium was hosting a members-exclusive sneak-peek at a new exhibit, Buck had dragged them there an hour early, leading to Eddie wincing in the echoey lobby as Buck and Chris oooh-ed an aaah-ed at every decoration they’d never stopped to fully take in before. The last time she was late for work it was because she was at the ER for a broken toe that she hadn't wanted to bother anyone with.

So, yeah, being late was out of character for Buck.

Not answering her phone, not so much.

So Eddie has a little bit of hope. Maybe Buck just set her phone down and wandered off. She's gotten better about it since she downloaded a step-tracker, which Eddie thought was a little ridiculous given their occupation, but she's been lapsing recently.

He sends another text asking if she’s on her way and shuts his phone off with a sigh.

“Are you going to buy anything?”

Eddie looks up, startled, at the barista that has been trying to kill him with her under-developed superpowers since he sat down.

“I think I'm being stood up.”

She blinks.

“She’s pregnant and I'm the one being stood up.”

The girl looks a little like Chris’ totally-not-on-again-off-again-long-distance-girlfriend. If Joy didn't have very obviously box dyed hair past her hips and a non-existent relationship with Cetaphil.

“That's terrible, man. Would a Caramel Brulée Latte make you feel better?”

It was Eddie's turn to blink.

“Something iced? You look like an Iced Gingerbread Oatmilk Chai kind of man.”

One day, Eddie will not let teenagers bully him. Today is not that day.

“Sweet treat? I’ll get you a cake pop.”

He catches the girl muttering something to herself about baby cow eyes and gay mustaches as she walks away from him. Teenagers always look like they’re having so much fun when they give him shit. Maybe he just has a bullyable face.

After three of the worst covers of Christmas songs that Eddie has ever heard, a voice breaks through the silence.

“Caramel Brulée Latte and Iced Gingerbread Oatmilk Chai with a cake pop for Freddie Mercury!"

Eddie doesn't move.

“Dude. I have a limited number of times I'm allowed to leave this spot before my manager gets pissy with me. Come get your shit.”

Eddie closed his eyes. He couldn't see the barista, sitting as he was with his back to her, but he could hear her shaking one of the drinks at him, the ice rattling merrily along to Jingle Bell Rock. He ran a hand over his face. The shaking got louder. He stood up with a groan, if only to rescue the poor chai from being spilled all over the counter.

The barista grinned at him, showing off her braces.

“I can't drink both of these.”

The girl tilted her head. She pushed the hot drink forward a bit.

“Decaf. For your baby momma.”

Eddie's jaw dropped. Before he could get anything resembling words out, the barista flipped her screen around for him to see.

“Would you like to leave a tip, sir?”

With another sigh, he clicked on the twenty percent option and tapped his card on the other screen she pushed toward him.

“As nice as this has been, Freddie, I think you should wait for her outside. The weather’s nice. If you want to take the time to write a Yelp review, my name is Josie.”

The weather was shit, for LA. Josie smiled at him like she knew that he'd stepped in two puddles on his way from his truck to the door.

“It’s Eddie, actually.”

At that, she snorted.

“That’s my stepdad’s name. He knocked up a woman who hates him too.”

Eddie gathered up his purchase, not dignifying his bully with a response. He wasn't going to wait outside, he wasn't, but the idea of one more shitty Christmas song paired with this girl’s judgmental and knowing looks made his skin crawl.

As the driver side door slammed shut, he let out a breath. He set the drinks in the cup holders and laid the cake pop on the center console before taking out his phone. Fifteen minutes of harassment had apparently not been enough time for him to be graced with a response from Buck, just a notification from his bank that made him consider shaking Josie down for the meager tips in her tip jar.

He turned the truck on. Looks like this is a conversation they'll be having at the loft after all.

--- --- ---

Eddie knocks on Buck's door. It's a habit he's only formed recently. He never used to knock on her door. There’s no answer. He knocks again. Nothing. He unhooks his keys from the belt loop they live on and goes to unlock the door. It's open.

Still quiet. Too quiet. Silence is not something Eddie is accustomed to when it comes to Buck. She lives her life so loudly. It feels wrong to not hear her.

“Buck?”

Before her name can even leave his mouth, he feels his stomach sink. He isn't paranoid, isn't superstitious, but with everything that’s happened to Maddie and Chim in the last year, Buck’s told him he should be. Anything could have happened to her to leave her apartment door open.

“Eddie? Eddie!”

He lets out a breath and rounds the corner. There she is. She looks terrible. Her hair is plastered to her forehead, her curls sticking out every which way, and she looks like she’s going to throw up any second now, pale and trembling. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that she's trying to hold herself up, her hands and one of her feet braced on the stairs leading up to her bedroom. There's blood on her fingers.

He drops her latte.

“I'm stuck!”

He can see that. Just barely, through the slats of her stairs, he can see her leg dangling in the air. The blood dripping from a gash on the side of her knee has gone tacky and brown.

“I need to take pressure off of it.”

She's too high off the ground for him to reach her in a meaningful way from underneath. He's going to have to lift her.

“Buck, do you understand me?”

She nods wordlessly, wincing as the stairs groan slightly under his weight. He climbs quickly, trying to land as softly as he can. He ignores the small cry she lets out as he sits down behind her.

“I’m going to pick you up and put my leg in between yours okay?”

At this point, he thinks that if she cries he won't be able to stop himself from joining.

“It's going to hurt. Squeeze my arm, scream as loud as you want. But don't move, okay?”

He wraps his arms around her waist and waits for her to bring her arms up from the stairs. She puts a hand over his and squeezes.

“One, two, three.”

He can't help but be reminded of the ladder truck when she screams. It's loud, right in his ear, and if he wasn't so scared, he probably would have complained about it, just to make her laugh.

“Good girl, good girl. I'm sorry, baby. You're doing so good.”

He can't stop himself, whispering meaningless comforts to her as she cries.

The call to 9-1-1 feels like a blur. He can't remember anything other than the relief that it hadn't been Maddie on the other line.

“It hurts.”

Other than that first night, the night that got them here, they haven't had sex in Buck’s loft. To be fair, they aren't in Buck’s loft often. Even before she got pregnant, Eddie's house felt like their default. Their place. That house, the kitchen, the couch, the bed, they have all seen more intimacy, even outside of sex, than the loft has. Until now.

“I know.”

This is something new. They don't do this. Eddie held her hand and swept her hair away from her face when the ladder truck was on top of her. Buck pulled him under the engine and picked him up when they were being shot at. But they've never done this. Buck isn't in danger. Sure, blood is pooling in her foot and she's been here longer than Eddie would ever be comfortable with, but she's okay. She can still wiggle her toes. There are paramedics on the way.

“Eddie, it-it hurts.”

She's okay. Physically. But she's scared. She's so scared. And it's breaking Eddie's heart. He hates seeing her scared. Hated it seeing her like that when she almost lost her leg, when she almost lost Chris, when she almost lost Eddie.

“I know, baby. I know. Hold on, just a little longer, okay?”

He lets out a shuddering sigh.

“It's okay, baby. We’ll get you out of this. You're gonna be okay. A cast and crutches and some bedrest and you'll be fine. Good as new.”

Buck sniffles.

“I can't do bedrest on my couch again.”

Eddie sighs again.

“Then don’t. Move in with me.”

She shakes her head before dropping it back. The thud it makes against his collarbone echoes through Eddie's body.

“I can't do bedrest on your couch, either, Eddie."

What will it take for her to get it?

“You don't have to. Do it in our bed.”

To get that he loves her, that he's sorry for doing this to her.

“It’s not our bed.”

To them.

“It can be. It will be.”

He lets a tear run down his cheek.

“Come home with me.”

Chapter Text

JANUARY-SIX MONTHS ALONG

Buck looked up from her spot on the couch as Eddie walked in. He shot a small smile her way before looking down to toe off his shoes.

“How was your shift?”

Eddie grunted, placing a hand on the wall next to the front door to keep his balance.

“It was a shift. Three kitchen fires, a little pile-up over by Hamilton.”

His left shoe came flying off, thudding lightly against the couch. Buck laughed. Eddie huffed as he brought his other leg up and leaned against the wall.

“Cat in a tree.”

Buck threw an arm over the back of the couch, twisting toward Eddie. His other shoe thumped on the floor. She rolled her eyes when he looked up sheepishly.

“You only say that when I'm on leave. I feel like you're trying to make me jealous.”

Eddie raised a brow as he made his way over to buck. He sat down heavily in the creased corner of his couch. Buck put her feet in his lap immediately with a sly smile.

“You’re jealous of me for rescuing a cat that got stuck in a tree?”

He rubbed a thumb over her ankle, stopping over the vein protruding there. He wanted to feel her pulse, sighing when it kicked against him.

“I think you’re trying to make me jealous of you for getting to rescue a cat out of a tree. Which would be a perfectly valid thing to be jealous about.”

Eddie laughed.

“Would it?”

She threw a hand up in the air.

“Yes! It's like the firefighter stereotype!”

Eddie shook his head as she let her arm fall back down.

“How was your day? D’you end up taking May out like you wanted?”

Buck perked up, a grin spreading across her face.

“Yes! And Harry came with us!”

He hummed, rolling his head and letting it flop onto the back of the couch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Eddie?”

He hummed again. Her foot twitched in his lap.

“How old do I look to you?”

Eddie cracked an eye open. She wasn't looking at him, but it wasn't that bad. She didn't look worried or embarrassed, just confused.

“I mean, I have a few grey hairs, but I don't think I look a day past thirty.”

He noticed the greys a few days ago. They suited her. He squeezed her ankle reassuringly.

“You look thirty-three, Buck. Why?"

Buck huffed.

“The woman at the nail salon thought May was my sugar baby. And some guy at the brunch place said Harry was too young to be a father.”

Eddie snorted, cutting himself off when Buck slapped the back of her hand against his stomach. He doubled over, coughing dramatically. Buck kicked her feet as much as she could with them trapped in between his abs and thighs.

“Sorry, sorry. What'd you do?”

She kicked again, this time knocking her cast against his knee. He hissed in pain. She grinned at him, her cheeks pushing her eyes closed.

“May told them I was their sister both times.”

Eddie smiled. May was a lifesaver.

“You’d be good at that, the whole… sugar thing.”

Buck laughed again.

“You think so?”

Eddie nodded.

“If it wasn't for your credit score.”

She kicked him in the stomach again.

"I want to do that for you. I would if I could."

Buck looked at him. She didn't want to get into this again.

"Eddie-"

He cut her off, squeezing her calf.

"I would. you know I would. But I can't."

She sighed.

"It was a one-time thing. Just some fun before I can't get out of the house. I've got it under control."

Eddie stood, pushing Bucks legs down and turned to look at her. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you? Your leave isn't paid, and you're not going to be able to go back until after the baby is born."

Buck stood too, pushing into his space. Even leaning a little to the side, swaying with the loss of balance coming from moving so quickly without her crutches and her back bowing forward to support the baby, he had to look up to her.

"I'm taking paid family leave when my medical leave is up. We talked about this."

Eddie scoffed.

"Did we talk about what happens when that money is gone, when we have two adults, a teenager, and a baby to feed with three months left before you can work again?"

He waved his hand through the air dismissively.

"What happens when I can't pay for everything?"

Buck reared back, placing a hand on the arm of the couch to keep herself steady.

"You don't have to pay for everything, Eddie! I told you that! I don't need you pulling this macho shit again, I can help too."

She sat with as huff, placing a hand over her stomach.

"You shouldn't have to!"

She waved Eddie off as he reached out to help her down.

"Why, because you're the man here?"

--- --- ---

“Ah! Not there.”

She hissed at him through her teeth. Her nipples were sensitive enough without his attention, no matter how much she wanted it.

With a nod, Eddie lowered his head once more to somewhere further south. He kissed a somewhat crooked line down her stomach, pressing his lips to any small piece of her that grabbed his attention. Not looking up at her, he tugged his sweatpants down her hips, chuckling slightly as she whined when he stopped as they met his knees. He shuffled back on the bed, running his hands down her calves before flinging them somewhere behind him, revealing the growing wetness between her legs. He kisses down her thighs to where her warm center pulses with anticipation. Buck’s legs start to tremble in his hands.

Eddie looks up at her and meets her eyes.

“I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Before Buck can respond, he dives between her legs and licks a long, wet stripe up her pussy. She cries out at the suddenness, and Eddie can feel the muscles in her thighs clench under his fingers. He continues on and teases her hole with his tongue, dipping in and out of her in time with the shaky breaths leaving her lungs.

When Buck has had enough of his teasing, she throws a leg over his shoulder. He hisses as the fiberglass of her cast scratches against his skin. Buck locks her legs around his head and pushes his head farther into her cunt.

Eddie’s mind is floating, addled by the intoxicating sensation of her wet walls pulsing against his tongue and her thick thighs almost crushing his head. He moans and starts to lap at her hole with vigor. He pauses before experimentally giving a wide lap of his tongue over her cunt and is rewarded with a delicious sounding moan and another hard squeeze of her thighs when he flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue. The force used sends him deeper into his own pleasure and he whimpers.

Eddie has never fucking whimpered before in his life.

Buck chuckles at his reaction.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I get a little rough with you?”

She sighs as he adds his fingers, hoping to convey his answer. As he continues, Buck begins to talk again.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Feels so good, all I need from you.”

She moans again, thicker this time.

“That tongue and those fucking fingers.”

Eddie pulls another gasp from her lips.

“Just those two things and I’ll have everything I need.”

Encouraged and, honestly more turned on than he probably should be, Eddie quickly turns two fingers into three and sucks harder at her clit.

Buck cries out in response again and starts bucking her hips into his face with so much reckless abandon that Eddie’s a little surprised that his nose has so far remained unbroken. She makes eye contact with him over the mound of her cunt.

“Yeah, you like sucking your daddy’s dick? You like making daddy feel good?”

Eddie pumps his fingers in and out of her roughly, maintaining a frantic suction on her clit. He nods jerkily, trying desperately to keep her dick between his lips. She keeps rambling, spurred on by his enthusiastic response to her slip up, losing herself in the throes of her pleasure.

“You’re doing such a good job providing for your daddy.”

She sighs heavily.

“You’re the best, Eddie baby. So good, so, so good for me.”

Her cries get higher and quicker, Eddie focusing on the spots he knows drive her mad. His mind becomes a feedback loop, zeroed in only on the pattern of what makes Buck make more noise. After a short while of dedication, he feels a hand land hard on the back of his head and force his face further than it's ever gone into her pussy. The house is surely echoing with Buck’s moans at this point. He’s honestly a little worried about the neighbors. Or at least he would be if his brain could register anything but Buck, Buck, yes, Buck, good-for-daddy.

Buck sighs and pulls Eddie back by his hair. He whines. She smirks.

“Your turn. Let’s get you ready for daddy.”

It’s her turn to fling his pants into an unknown corner of their bedroom and she is delighted to see that there is a large dark stain from where Eddie had been leaking while going down on her.

“I knew my dick was good, but damn baby…”

Buck smirks as she straddles him, meeting his half-lidded gaze.

“You’re just in love with it. We’ll have to set up a playdate for you one of these days.”

As she begins to sink down onto Eddie’s lap, she runs a hand through his hair. Firmly gripping at his roots, she pulls his head to the side and peppers kisses down the side of his neck.

“Daddy’ll put you on your hands and knees in a pretty pink jock…”

She throws her head back as he bottoms out. His fingers dig into her trembling thighs as they flex, rising above him until the tip of his cock is the only thing left inside of her.

“What do you think of that, princess? Want to be pretty for your daddy?”

Eddie whines at her words. Buck wraps her arms around his shoulders with a shudder. She lowers herself slowly, letting out a hiss. Eddie snaps out of his sex-induced stupor and grips her hips, stopping her in place.

“What-”

He shook his head slightly, not letting his grip falter.

“Your knee. You said you can't bend your knee during sex.”

Once. She told him once, casually, two years ago, that her knee always hurt the day after she had sex. She’d only told him because he'd caught her limping across the loft at the station the day after she and Taylor had moved in together.

“I can’t do this.”

And Eddie had remembered.

“Because where I'm standing, we’re raising our kids together, we’re having sex, we're arguing about money, but we’re not saying we love each other, and we're not telling anyone.”

But they knew. They knew and everyone around them knew. Harry had made a joke about stepping on Eddie's toes after they got rid of the man at brunch. Eddie knew. He knew that she loved him and he knew that she knew he loved her. Or at least he was okay with telling her that while they were fucking.

“I can't do that.”

Buck has wanted to belong to someone as long as she’s known how to want things. And she does, now. She belongs to Eddie, mind and body, heart and soul. It all belongs to Eddie. She belongs to Eddie. But Eddie doesn’t belong to her.

“I need us to figure this out.”

Not enough to let her know.

“Either we love each other and we’re willing to work through this, or, or, we’re just- not enough.”

She shook her head.

"I can't keep being 'not enough' for the people I love, Eddie."