Chapter Text
If only Eddie had met Buck earlier, he thought with a sigh. Looking back, he was almost in aww that he’d made it thirty-two-years without him — without the one person who truly understood him. Growing up, Eddie hadn’t had many friends, let alone a best friend. There were always too many responsibilities waiting for him at home. The closest person he’d had was Shannon, and he’d loved her. Still does. But she’d been Sophia’s best friend first. Having someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t his wife, his parents or his sisters, might have changed everything. Maybe then he wouldn’t have driven Shannon away or given his parents to doubt him as a father, just like they were doing now.
This time, though, things were different. he had Buck by his side, someone who encouraged him to stand his ground and believe in himself.
“Eddie, Mijo, listen.” What used to be a term of affection now sounded like a cheap insult, one she tossed around without thinking — the same one he had used for Chris. His mother’s voice struck a nerve, and anger rose from deep inside him, slow and hot. It spread from his chest to his fingertips, a fire he couldn’t quite contain. that single word pierced right through him, leaving him raw and exposed.
“We’re just trying to do what's best for Christopher,” She added.
Tears blurred Eddie’s vision as they gathered in his eyes. The pressure from his parents — and the weight of his own mistakes — pressed down on him, invisible but crushing. his shoulders sagged under it, his body folding inward as if he could make himself smaller, quieter. Each breath came heavy and uneven, his chest tightening with the effort to keep himself together.
In contrast to the storm raging inside him, Eddie found a flicker of hope when his eyes met Buck’s. The blue of Buck’s gaze reminded him of a clear summer sky — steady, endless, and full of light. The park, with that quiet strength, reminded Eddie that no one would ever fight harder for his son than Buck… except himself. Buck’s small smile gelt like a breeze cutting through the heat, cooling the chaos in his chest and steadying his heartbeat.
“What’s best for Chris, or what’s best for you?” Eddie shot back, his voice shaking more than he wanted it to.
Growing up in that house had left its mark on him — shaping the way he saw himself, the way he doubted his own choices. He’d been trying to unlearn all of that, to rebuild something healthier. And for a while, it had been working. Their relationship was getting better until he made another mistake — one that cost him someone else he loved. Someone who ran just like Shannon had, because he messed up again.
With Shannon, he hadn’t been there when she needed him most. His absence had been its own kind of noise — a silence that screamed. Back then, he believed he was doing the right thing. They were so young when she got pregnant and he was his father’s son, through and through. So, he did what Ramon would’ve done — he ran straight into the army. He didn’t have her back like he was supposed to. He left her alone exposed, while his parents criticized her at every turn. The only person who tried to support her were his sisters, but they were still kids themselves.
If Buck had been in his life back then, things might’ve been different. Buck would’ve told him to talk to Shannon, to stand up for her, to stop running.
And now, he’d gone and hurt his own son. If he’d talked to Buck after seeing Kim instead of hiding it, Buck would’ve told him not to go back, not to reopen that wound. He probably would’ve told him to call Frank to actually deal with it instead of burying it.
“Edmundo, that is no way to talk to your mother.” His father’s voice cracked through the air, sharp and booming and Eddie flinched. There he was — the Ramon he knew. The same man whose words could slice though him glass. The same man who had yelled at him for scratching his truck while Eddie was trying to rush his mother to the hospital while she was in labor. The same man who’d cornered him after Shannon left angry and disappointed, demanding custody when Eddie had already been breaking apart inside.
Eddie had poured his heart and soul into fixing their relationship over the past few years — therapy sessions, countless compromises — and now it felt like they were throwing it all away.
once again, they had ambushed him. His stomach twisted but then he felt Buck’s hand on his, a gentle grounding squeeze that kept him from unraveling.
“No. you don’t get to do this again,” Eddie snapped, his voice breaking halfway through. “you’re supposed to be fostering a relationship between Chris and me. That was the deal. I’ve barely gotten updates from you or from him. I’ve barely gotten updates from you or from him. I’ve heard more from Sophia and Adri than I have from either of you since Chris went down there. I’ve been in therapy. I’m trying. Are you?”
The words caught in his throat, strangled by a mixture of anger and heartbreak. His pulse pounded in his ears as his voice rose, trembling. “Have you even talked to Chris about this? Put him on the phone.”
“Edmundo, it’s ten-thirty. He’s asleep. we give him a bedtime here,” his mother snapped.
There it was — another judgement, another subtle jab. Chis had a bedtime at his house too. weeknights meant earlier nights; weekends were more flexible. He’s thirteen, after all. He didn’t need a reminder of his to parent his own son.
“He has a bedtime here too, thanks,” Eddie muttered, a sharp edge of sarcasm in his voice. His lips curled into a sneer he didn’t bother hiding. then he hung up before the anger could curdle into tears.
Buck was there instantly, wrapping an arm around him before the first tear could fall. Eddie pressed into the embrace, the rough fabric of Buck’s jacket scratching his cheek. There were only three people in the world he felt safe crying in front of: Buck, Chris and Frank.
“I wish I had you as a friend growing up,” Eddie said quietly, the words rough with emotion. As soon as he spoke them, a wave of longing hit him — for the boy he’d been and the man he might have become if someone like but had been there to pull him out of the dark.
His eyes burned, glossed with tears that never quite fell. the ache in his throat was sharp, as if every missed chance and unspoken word had gathered there, heavy and unyielding.
“Same,” Buck said softly. His hands fell away, the warmth fading with them, leaving a hollow chill in Eddie’s chest.
Eddie wanted to reach for him again — just for a moment longer — to hold on to the steady presence that always managed to quiet the storm inside him.
The room fell into silence after that, this with the quiet that only follows something shatters. Eddie’s phone sat on the table, the screen dark, the echo of the call still ringing in his ears.
He rubbed a hand over his face trying to will himself back into calm. “You ever think,” he began, voice low, “that maybe we grew up too fast?”
Buck glanced over, blue eyes soft with understanding. He didn’t answer right away. He just leaned back, giving Eddie the space to keep going.
“All that time I thought being an adult meant doing the right thing matter how much it hurt. Following orders, being strong. But all I did was break things. People.” Eddie said the words tasting bitter and true.
He swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. “I missed everything that mattered.”
Buck’s voice came out quiet and steady. “You didn’t miss everything.”
Eddie huffed a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh “Feels like i did. Shannon. Chris. You.” He shook his head, eyes stinging. “Every time i tried to be the man my dad wanted me to be, I ended up being someone my family couldn’t stand to love.”
Buck shifted closer, his knee brushing Eddie’s. “You don’t have to be that man anymore,” he said softly. “You don’t have to keep proving you’re worth staying for.”
Something in Eddie broke at that — not it the sharp splintering way he was used to, but in a release that left him trembling. He let out a long, uneven breath and leaned into Buck’s shoulder just enough for their arms to touch.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the faint behind him of the fridge and the distant rumble of traffic outside.
When Eddie finally spoke again, his voice was small. “You ever wish you could go back? Not to change anything. Just to tell that younger version of yourself that it’s going to be okay?”
Buck’s lips curved, sad and knowing. “All the time.” He turned his head slightly, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “But then I think… maybe that version of us had to break a little, so we’d end up here.”
Eddie nodded, his throat tight. The storm inside him had quieted, replaced by something gentler. Something like peace.
He let out a slow breath, the kind that felt like a surrender. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Maybe.”
Outside, the night pressed against the window, heavy with the sound of crickets and faraway thunder. Buck stayed beside him. Not saying much, not needing to. For the first time in a long time, Eddie didn’t feel like he had to be strong.
He just had to be.