Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Did you know that bananas don’t taste like what they used to taste like?”

Eddie snorts to himself and looks up from his phone, meeting Chimney’s confused eyes. Buck and Christopher had watched a video about bananas the night before, so he’s not surprised that Buck’s sharing this information with their friends– he was actually wondering when it would come up. After all: it’s not uncommon for Buck to info-dump on the team while they’re going to or coming back from a call… or when they’re lounging or eating or anytime, really.

Unsurprisingly, Chimney’s the first to react, “What?” His frown deepens– He looks at Hen and then at Buck, who’s stuffing a couple of baby carrots into his mouth, all the more confused. “What do you mean?”

Buck takes a moment to chew through his bite. “I mean exactly what I mean! Bananas don’t taste like how they used to back in the 50s! Well like, the bananas we have right now, the Cavendish–”

“–Like the fries?”

“Yes, like the fries, Chim,” Buck answers with a sigh and an eye roll that Eddie noticed Christopher doing these days. “The Cavendish banana replaced the Gros Michel bananas because the plantation was hit with a disease and the whole strain was affected.” He pops another carrot into his mouth, “Next thing you know, poof, no more Gros Michel bananas unless you go to some part of the world– and oh! Gros Michel is French for like, Fat Mike or Micheal– So people call these bananas Big Mike too. Isn’t that neat? Anyways the bananas have like… thicker skin or something. I’ve been trying to find more about the name.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Hen’s eyes and without saying anything, and just judging by the smirk that’s on her face, he has a feeling that she’s saying ‘That’s your boy?’ and to that, he grins brightly and shrugs. Because yeah, that’s his boy.
It’s still new, only two weeks old, and it’s something that they want to protect. Something that no one knows about– only Hen because he went to her when his feelings for Buck hit him in the face in the form of Buck wearing one of his LAFD shirts after getting them mixed up in their bags when they came home from helping the with the fires in Texas, and Eddie had to see the big, bold letters D I A Z across Buck’s broad shoulders. Something in his gut had flipped upside down and he’d called Hen about it an hour later after nearly pacing a hole in the linoleum kitchen floor.

So, yeah, that’s his boy, and he wants to stay in their little private bubble for a little while longer.

He’s not ashamed, he really isn’t. Not of himself, not of Buck.

Especially not of Buck.

It’s just that they want to be together without the others poking and proding at their relationship– because of course they’ll insert themselves.

He lets himself look at Buck, and then he looks for a little bit longer, hoping that no one picks up on it. Buck and Chim are bickering, still about bananas, no one but Hen is paying attention to Eddie.

Buck seems happy today.

Really happy.

And anyone that isn’t Eddie loves seeing him like this; but he knows Buck like he knows the back of his hand– he knows that this type of high usually comes with a low. As it so happens, Eddie knows exactly why Buck seems so happy, and why Buck's inevitably going to crash: The Buckley Parents are currently in the state of California. Maddie told Buck yesterday, announced that they’re going to have dinner, all of them– Buck went straight to Eddie’s after that. So. Yeah. Buck seems overjoyed, but Eddie knows that Buck is actively doing everything he can to not think about his parents, to not have one quiet moment alone in his brain.

Everything meaning everything.

Cleaning, hanging out with Chris, watching documentaries, and falling into research pits about the Gros Michel Banana and their impact on the banana flavour.

Eddie wishes he could go with him, accompany him as his boyfriend and be there for when the inevitable shit inevitably hits the inevitable fan, but tonight is not the night he gets to do that. Tonight he needs to let Buck go on his own. They’re there for Maddie and the baby (and Chim), after all. Not to be disappointed that Buck’s not settled down and expecting a kid of his own with a nice woman (Buck’s predicted words, not Eddie’s.)

(“They’re going to be disappointed either way, but I want to try and not get too much attention on me tonight,” Buck had added. “One dinner. That’s all I’m giving them.”)

And hey, at least Albert will be there as well.

“Apparently,” Eddie chimes in and steals a carrot for himself, deciding that he wants to participate in this info-dumping session, if only to annoy Chimney further. He watched the documentary, too! He can participate if he wants to! “Banana candies might be the closest thing we have to the taste.” He chooses to chew obnoxiously loud and Chimney kicks his shin for it.

“Ew, what? Like those gross banana Runts?”

“Excuse you?” Hen whacks Chimney on the shoulder, “Those are the best ones?”

“Excuse me?! Henrietta since when do you, of all people, have the palette of a 3 year old?! Those are disgusting!”

“Alright, alright,” Bobby chimes in from the front, a chuckle in his voice. “Let’s agree to disagree on banana Runts before this turns into an argument.” The reactions from Hen and Chim are immediate and loud as they start to protest, and Eddie joins in just to contribute to the chaos. While they’re actually listing out arguments, he’s just listing out his (and Buck’s) grocery list. Near him, Buck’s laugh is loud and bright.

After Bobby shushes them again, he catches Buck’s eye and grins at him.
Honestly, he doesn’t remember the last time he was this happy; the last time he felt this fulfilled in a relationship.
And it’s all thanks to Evan Buckley. Evan Buckley and his trivia, his warmth, his love, his–

“So wait,” Chimney says, pulling Eddie from his thoughts of Buck– Rude, but okay. “If the Big Mike banana is extinct or rare or whatever, how are we getting the flavour?”

“Simple: It’s fake,” Buck answers, and the look on Chim’s face tells Eddie that he isn’t satisfied with said answer. “Back then, a lot of flavours were just made by chemists by combining molecules. When they made this one and they were like Hey. This smells fruity. Let’s slap some yellow on it and say it’s banana. Some people claim that it’s meant to taste like the Big Mike but that’s apparently a myth. That’s how they got grape flavour as well. That’s why it doesn’t taste like the real fruits.”

“What? No way, man. That’s stupid.”

“Google it,” Buck replies with a shrug, and oh. Eddie really loves it when Buck gets cocky with his knowledge. When Buck knows he’s right about something and someone doesn’t agree, it’s insanely hot.

Eddie discovering he has a knowledge kink was not on his bingo card of the year.

“Some fruits are easy to deal with to extract essences but bananas are tricky, apparently.”

“I still stand by my banana Runts,” Hen grumbles while Chim is still on his phone, biting at the skin of his thumb.

-

The day comes and goes and Eddie is still keeping track of Buck’s mood.
Buck’s been playing his cards close to his chest; he’s smiling and laughing at all the right times, but Eddie can tell that there’s a sparkle missing from his eyes.

The calls themselves were pretty OK– the biggest one of the shift was a lady who was shot by her pool– Athena had called Bobby later in the day to let him know that, while many of her neighbours apparently hated her, she’d somehow shot herself by tripping and accidentally pulling the trigger of her handgun.

Part of Buck’s mind is probably screaming at him that he has plans tonight that he wants nothing to do with, that he has a massive list of things to do before he goes to Maddie’s. He can tell that Buck’s not following some of the conversations just by the way he’s answering, too.
So he brings him his lunch and his water, knowing that Buck often forgets to eat when his mind is elsewhere, tells himself he’ll do it later, and later then becomes the next day when his stomach cries bloody murder at seven in the morning.

Call them co-dependent! He just wants to make sure his boyfriend is OK. Besides: Buck would do the exact same for him, too!

“I could say that I’m sick,” Buck says as they’re walking towards their cars, parked next to each other as always. No one has assigned spaces, but everyone knows that Buck and Eddie will always park next to each other (if they’re not carpooling), even if that means being at the other end of the lot.

At that, Eddie rolls his eyes but he can’t help the smile that’s on his face. “Chim knows you’re not sick, babe. You can do this, I know you can. Just one dinner. You spoke with Dr. Copeland earlier, right? Just remember what she told you. The de-escalating techniques.”

Buck takes a deep breath, nods, and just as he’s reaching for the handle of his car door, he turns around, “Who’s Cagney and Lacey?”

“Huh?”

“Athena. She, uh, she called us that earlier.”

“I know you’re purposely asking this now to delay leaving but my God you really don’t know much general pop culture trivia, huh?”

“Nope,” Buck replies, a grin spreading on his lips. “Who needs general trivia about whatever that is when instead I can learn about the origins of the blue raspberry flavour. Hey, did you know–”

“Buck.”

He sighs.
Heavily.

“Fine. Say you don’t love me, I get it.” He gets into his car and Eddie walks up to the window as he rolls it down. “I’m wounded, Eddie. Wounded.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure you are.” He gives their surroundings a one-over and very quickly leans into Buck’s space to kiss his cheek. “Love you too, good luck.” He takes a step back, relishing on the fact that he got Buck to blush, and walks around the truck to get to the driver side.

“You never answered my question,” Buck says. He stops backing the Jeep right behind the truck, effectively boxing Eddie in his parking space. His windows are down and he’s leaning out a little bit.

It’s his turn to sigh now. “Which question, Buck?”

“Cagney and Lacey.”

“Police officers in an 80s drama. Friends and partners. One blonde, one brunette. So. You know.” He gestures between the two of them as the obvious sets in.

“Ooooh,” Buck nods along as he takes in the information. “Wait. Partners like work or like, you know. Life.”

“Buck. It’s an 80s TV show. Do you really think they would’ve had lesbians life partners on screen?”

“Ah. I suppose not.”

“Stop delaying.” He starts to dismissively shoo him away with his right hand as his left opens the door to the truck. “You’ll never hear the end of it if you’re late.”

“Fine. You’re right. I’ll call you later?”

“Please do. Now go.”

-

Once Buck is finally out of sight, it’s Eddie’s turn to reluctantly go home.
He relieves Carla from duty and gets to helping Chris with his homework, after which they watch a bit of TV together and Eddie reads him a few chapters of his book at bedtime.
Eddie’s playing the stupid dragon merging game Buck got him hooked on (one he spent $10 on the other day, a secret he will bring to the grave.) He switches from app to app, hoping to hear from Buck.
His location says he’s still at Maddie’s… so maybe it’s going well?

Frustrated with himself, he hops into a shower– which does little to nothing to keep his mind off of Buck.
He’s never been the type to take long showers, either. So 10 minutes later he’s on the couch, merging those stupid flowers to get the stupid energy balls that will never be enough to open more of the map– No. He quits the app, fuck this game.

It’s barely ten when he gets a message from Buck saying that he’s home (with Albert). It’s a bit early, in Eddie’s opinion, but he doesn’t know anything about the Buckleys– maybe their evenings end early.

Buck: home safe. missed you tonight. Not fair that chim is there for maddie but you couldn’t be there for me.
Buck: i mean. It’s fair, they don’t know about us yet. And idk how my mom and dad would’ve reacted but ya.
Buck: idk if they’re secretly homophobic???
Buck: I have a cousin that’s gay and they’ve never said anything

Eddie: Did everything go OK?
Eddie: Miss you too
Eddie: Wish I could’ve been there too, whether you have homophobic parents or not

Eddie honestly feels a bit insane about Buck– they saw each other a few hours ago, they just worked a 24 together– how did it take him this long to notice that he loves Buck as much as he does when he misses his presence after thirty minutes apart?

Buck: no. Not rly, but could’ve been worse ig. Chim’s been weird all day and he was weird tonight too. Idk.
Buck: we’re having dinner again tomorrow… just us, no albert. Fmfl
Buck: AND, after tomorrow’s shift, you and i aren’t seeing each other till the day AFTER tomorrow cause you took that stupid shift so stupid jensen could be at his wife’s birth
Buck: I mean his kid’s birth. His wife was obviously born a while ago
Buck: not a while ago like she’s Old Old
Buck: please stop me eddie please i’m spiraling
Buck: also i didn’t mean that, it’s not stupid. I’m actually rly happy for him
Buck: and his stupid baby

Eddie: BUCK

Buck: I TOLD YOU TO STOP ME

He’s in love with an idiot. God help him, he’s so in love with him.

Eddie: Come over?

Buck: I can’t. idk how i would explain it to albert and i don’t wanna tell him i’m like idk, going to a dick appointment and for him to not wait up or smt. I’m a taken man, i don’t wanna lie

Eddie: A… dick… appointment? Like… to the gyno?
Eddie: Or whatever the term is for men or whatever

Buck: You know.
Buck: You all laugh at me for not knowing things about TV and movies but you’re just as bad with lingo.
Buck: Just open urban dictionary, old man

Eddie: You’re older than me???????

Buck: ooooo you’re bringing out the multiple questions marks oooooo
Buck: anyways. semantics
Buck: i’m gonna go re-organize my kitchen and not think about my parents until i crash out
Buck: xoxo Go piss girl

Eddie: ???????

Buck: EDDIE OH MY GOD it’s from the Gossip Girl meme?????
Buck: I have to pee
Buck: Go piss girl
Buck: Do you have any fours?
Buck: Go fish girl
Buck: Can you speak Spanish?
Buck: Sí girl
Buck: I can’t take shots it’s too strong it makes me puke
Buck: So Sip Girl

Eddie: You watched Gossip Girl?

Buck: THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GETTING FROM THAT?
Buck: Eddie. I obviously have not watched GG
Buck: But I’ve been on tumblr

Eddie: What’s Tumblr
Eddie: Never mind, I don’t wanna know
Eddie: Buck you’re spiraling. Maybe don’t start hyper-fixating on cleaning your kitchen, you know just as much as I do that you’ll crash half-way through it and then sit on the floor and consider crying about it. Go take a long shower instead.

Buck: ????? Are you???? Psychic???? Do you have cameras in my loft?????

Eddie: Leave your kitchen alone, Buck.
Eddie: ❤️

Buck: 💚

He’s 99.9% sure that Buck’s going to re-organise something else in the loft– and he’ll say that technically he listened and didn’t re-organise the kitchen.
So Eddie messages Albert and makes him promise to keep Buck from cleaning. Makes him promise to keep an eye on him during their 24 off, too, while Eddie is at work.
Albert’s a bit confused at the request, and Eddie gets a couple of ‘???’, before an eventual ‘Ok 👌🏽’ comes through.

Honestly? Eddie’s not convinced, but he doesn’t get any messages from either Buck or Albert so it’s either going well or– honestly Eddie doesn’t want to know.
The next message that does come through is at two in the morning.
His phone buzzes under his pillow, once, then twice, and Eddie finally reaches for it, knowing that it’ll probably be Buck– Buck’s messages bypass his sleep focus on his phone and he’s the only one that would text at this hour. Everyone else would probably call.

Buck: Okay so.
Buck: I looked into it

Well. He immediately knows what’s up.
Buck’s in a research spiral.

There’s dots indicating that Buck's typing, and Eddie finds himself grinning like an idiot as he turns to his side, waiting patiently for whatever ramble Buck is about to go on.

This could be about so many things. More on the bananas, Cagney and Lacey, blue whales– anything.

Buck: so there’s not really a gyno for men/people with penises. Not specifically like a gyno for people with uterus etc

Okay, so. None of Eddie’s options.

Buck: BUT - we can see andrologists or urologists for issues with our junk like fertility or urinary health.
Buck: while they don’t do just that, the andro is more specialised in the sexual and reproductive health and the Uro is obviously more urinary (but uros are for everyone)
Buck: Unrelated but
Buck: why do we call our private parts our junk
Buck: not that we actually use that terminology but isn’t it kinda degrading? Idk i don’t think my dick is junk?
Buck: then balls are like, ‘the family jewels’ or whatever and that’s also really weird?

Eddie: Buck, it’s 2am

Buck: I couldn’t sleep cause i remembered that i didn’t know the answer to this.

Eddie: so you just laid in bed thinking about how you didn’t know the answer and waited hours before you googled it?

Buck: what?
Buck: no
Buck: Albert and I went for a run (weird but ok?) then he actually wanted to play Smash Bros with me (weirder) and he asked to watch the 2001 Hell House documentary (weirdest???)
Buck: You’d date it, btw
Buck: *hate
Buck: the documentary.
Buck: But also the running with albert, he’s SO slow omg
Buck: It’s about halloween ‘haunts’ in like, texas, and hell houses– anyways. Albert hates halloween. he might be buttering me up to ask me something?
Buck: then he finally fell asleep on the couch and I retreated upstairs
Buck: tried to sleep
Buck: remembered I didn’t know the thing about male gynos
Buck: opened a web browser
Buck: cooked for a few minutes
Buck: voilà, bon appétit

Eddie: Do you have a French keyboard installed? How are you getting those accents so fast?

Buck: 😩😩😩😩😩
Buck: ur takeaway from my ramblings truly does astound me sometimes.
Buck: of course I have a French keyboard installed. If I’m going to make jokes with the help of different languages, i’m at least gonna spell them right.

Eddie: as opposed to you spelling properly in English…

Buck: ok
Buck: hey now
Buck: ☹️

Eddie: ❤️Good night, Buck

Buck: 💚

He puts his phone down, his smile not leaving his face.
Not even a minute passes before his phone goes vvv under his pillow once more

Buck: OMG DID I WAKE YOU UP?!

He chooses to ignore the message this time– he’ll talk to Buck tomorrow.

–

The following day is… odd, to say the least.
He manages to sneak in a few quiet minutes with Buck in the loft before everyone gets there and they debrief yesterday’s dinner. It didn’t go well, but it didn’t go as bad as Buck had expected it to, which is why he’d agreed to see them later as well, with just Maddie this time.
Honestly? Eddie thinks that that’s a stupid idea, he thinks that once is enough, but Buck’s a big boy. If he thinks it’s a good idea, Eddie will support it.

One thing’s for sure: Chimney’s being weird.

Buck and Eddie are sitting next to each other on the couch, just like they always are: Closer than most best friends (according to Hen), but not close to a point that everyone would figure out that something’s changed about them, when Chimney steps into the loft. He greets them, takes one look at Eddie, and then at Buck, and bolts off to the other end of the room like his ass is on fire.
The pair exchange a glance and a shrug, and after a subtle thigh pat, Buck decides to get breakfast started for all of them.

Chimney seems to be like that for the rest of the day– he has a look in his eyes that even Hen finds worrying. Eddie’s pretty sure that Chimney’s hiding something– he just doesn’t know what.

It gets worse.

They get a call about a suicide bomber in a factory, and Eddie actually walks in on him and Chimney talking like they’re old friends. Chimney even tells him to leave– how insane is that? Eddie makes a mental note to talk to Bobby about that later. What he did is not in their job description– sure they’ll try and talk to people, keep them calm and focused while the cops get someone on the scene, but what Chimney did was not that.

When they get back to the firehouse, Eddie sticks to Buck.
But even so, he notices that Chimney’s eyes are on Buck– something’s going on, and Chimney’s not talking to anyone about it. It makes him… anxious. He doesn’t like not knowing. Buck doesn’t even seem to have noticed. Granted he has other things on his mind but still, usually he picks up on these types of social cues.
He looks back at Chimney and catches him as he looks away and as Hen hits his arm.

So maybe Hen knows, too.

“Come on,” Eddie says, nodding towards the door of the locker room. “Walk me to the laundry room before you go?”

Buck sighs. There’s a certain reluctance in his stance, not that Eddie’s surprised. He doesn’t even have to say it outloud: Eddie also wishes that Buck shift wasn’t cut short. He also wishes that they could spend the day together and ignore the Buckley parents.

They slip out of the locker room, Eddie’s hands shoved into his front pockets to keep himself from holding Buck’s hand to try and comfort him.
Just as they reach Chimney and Hen by the truck, their whispers stop. Something is definitely up. Again, Buck doesn’t seem to notice.

“I uh…” Buck clears his throat, “I’ll see you later, Chim?”

“Yeah, man,” Chim replies, and while he’s smiling, Eddie can tell that he’s not happy about this either. “Ready for part two?”

“Twice in one week… woof. I haven’t seen my parents this much since the week I left home.”

Which… wow. Eddie’s never really stopped to think about it, but that sounds about right. He doesn’t remember one time that Buck has talked about them or to them around him.
With everything that Buck’s been through in the last couple of years… they’ve never been around. Not even when Maddie had been kidnapped.

Bile rises into his throat and he does his best to swallow it back down. The Buckleys better hope they never meet him or the rest of the 118; he has a feeling that if he doesn’t go off on him, Bobby will.

Once they finally make it to the laundry room, Eddie pulls Buck in a bit closer, rests their foreheads together.
No one is around, no one will bother them for a little bit.

“You’ve got this,” Eddie whispers, his hands framing Buck’s face.“I still have to work for the next couple of hours, but if you call and I’m not on a call, I’ll answer, okay? I’ll see you in 30-ish hours.”

Against him, Buck nods. “Yeah. Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he replies, gently pulling Buck in for a quick kiss.
They’ve been safe about PDA at work, not wanting anyone to know, but he can’t not kiss his boyfriend goodbye.

One last hug and Buck’s gone, leaving Eddie to the laundry he promised he’d do.

–

He doesn’t get any messages throughout the evening.
It’s not that surprising, he supposes that if the Buckleys are anything like his parents, they scoff at the sight of cellphones and mutter out ’ugh, kids these days and their phones’ as if he’s not a grown man in his late 20s.

He’s not worried, really! He’s not! But he does check the Friends app a few times, just to make sure that Buck’s still at Maddie’s.
Sue him, he has a bad feeling about tonight.

By the time Chris is in bed and Eddie’s considering calling it early, too, Eddie’s checking the app for the 23rd time. This time, however, Buck’s icon is moving– and if Eddie looks really closely, it looks like it’s moving kind of… fast? But he chooses to ignore that for now because Buck’s on his way here, to Eddie’s house. Because if dinner went as bad as Eddie’s expecting it to have gone, there’s no way that Buck’s going to go back to his own loft, not with Albert there.

He checks his notifications again.
There are still no missed calls, no messages, nothing.

Eddie decides to sit on the porch to wait. It’s still early, barely nine thirty, so he has a feeling deep in his gut that Buck’s not going to be in a great mood.

His knees are bouncing up and down when his phone dings– he half expects it to be Buck, and really hopes it isn’t. Buck’s not the type to text and drive.

Maddie: Buck won’t answer his phone. Is he with you? Eddie he left so fast and

Maddie is typing

Eddie frowns and waits for the next message– it doesn’t come. The bubble pops in and out again five times before she finally sends another message

Maddie: I’m worried
Maddie: I’m worried he’ll crash his car

Shit.

Even though Eddie’s 99.9% sure that Buck’s on his way to him, reading what Maddie said makes him flash hot and cold all at once, anxiety prickling at his skin. She doesn’t have to say more: he knows what she means.
Buck’s told him about the… tendencies he had when he was younger regarding his physical safety and his parents.
He bites at the skin of his thumb and quickly decides to reply, to try and calm her.

Eddie: I think he’s on his way to mine.
Eddie: I checked his location

He thought about saying ‘I’ve been monitoring his location’ but opted for the less insane reply.

Maddie: thank god. Eddie tell me when he gets there? Please?

He lifts his eyes up from his phone when he hears a car turn the corner on his street. Even in the dark like this, he recognizes the Jeep’s lights. He takes a deep breath.
Buck’s OK. Buck’s here. Buck’s safe.

Eddie: he’s here, Maddie. I’ve got him.

He pockets his phone and doesn’t get up until the Jeep is parked. He waits for Buck to get out– but Buck doesn’t step out of the car, and he doesn’t seem to notice him outside. His phone dings once, and then again. There’s a reply from Maddie, thanking him, and one from Buck.

Buck: Can I call you?

At that, Eddie frowns. Buck’s never been the type to ask.
Figuring that Buck didn’t notice Eddie sitting outside, Eddie decides to go up to the car, barefoot and concerned. When he knocks at the window, Buck jumps and looks at him– Eddie can immediately feel the anger simmering within him.

Buck’s been crying. His nose is a bit red, his eyes are definitely red, and there are wet marks on his cheeks.

He goes to open the door– Locked. He arches an eyebrow, waits a second for Buck to unlock it, and tries again.

“I um…” Fuck, even his voice is rough. It makes Eddie wonder if Buck’s been yelling– screaming– in the car on the way here. “I’m sorry I…” Buck looks away and Eddie crouches down slightly so he can look up at Buck. He places a hand on Buck’s thigh to get his attention and waits. Waits for him to breathe, to look at him.
Buck’s hands are balled tightly on his thighs, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“You’re okay,” Eddie says, his voice low and quiet. “You’re home now, you’re safe.”

Buck doesn’t say anything, not for a minute or so. Eddie simply waits, placing a hand on one of Buck’s fists. He doesn’t want to rush Buck into whatever this is. “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t… I don’t even remember leaving Maddie’s.”

As concerning as that is, Eddie chooses to table that for later in favour of comforting Buck. “Hey, it’s okay. You know you’re always welcome here,” he coos, and he gently moves to unbuckle Buck’s seatbelt, trying his best not to jostle him too much. “This is as much your home as it is mine. You know damn well it’s your kitchen.” The joke is meant to be lighthearted, to make Buck smile, but instead, Buck’s breath hitches and he slumps forward, his body now racked with sobs.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Eddie repeats, and he reaches into the car to pull him into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t know how long they stay there, just that his legs are burning from the effort of how he’s crouched down. He doesn’t say anything about it, he just talks to Buck, whispers into his ear, tries to reassure him the best he can.
It’s only when Buck’s cries turn to sniffles that Eddie starts to gently guide him out of the car and towards the house.

Now settled on the edge bed, Buck’s pretty much non-verbal, only answering with one syllable words or quiet mhms when Eddie says anything. He doesn’t try to force Buck to talk, but he does help him into some pyjamas and gently washes his face with a warm washcloth before tucking him into bed.

Once Buck’s fallen asleep, Eddie sends Maddie a quick text to let her know that Buck is safe. She doesn’t offer more of an explanation on what happened, and he doesn’t pry. Instead, he gets into bed and cuddles up closer to Buck, one arm going over Buck’s waist. He feels Buck settle in his hold and pressed a kiss to the base of his nape, whispering to him a quiet I love you. Knowing how Buck’s brain struggles to settle at night, even more so after a rough day, he hopes that Buck is going to be able to sleep, if only for an hour.

Eventually, Buck’s breathing does even out and Eddie allows himself to sleep. Buck is safe, Buck is in his arms, Buck is going to be okay.

-

It takes Eddie a couple of seconds to notice that the other side of the bed is empty. He usually wakes slowly; he’ll stretch out his limbs, rub his eyes, and burrow a bit deeper into the blankets before reluctantly opening his eyes. The recent addition to his routine is to reach out to the other side of the bed, whether or not Buck’s stayed over the previous night.
He remembers the night before, and he can tell that it’s still early, so he has a moment of anxiety regarding Buck’s whereabouts– but only a moment. The faint smell of eggs and butter wafting into his bedroom soothes his unease. He knows that Buck is home, making breakfast for him and Chris. And if that hadn’t been enough? Well, the sound of Buck and Chris laughing would’ve done it; it’s like music to his ears.

Eddie’s never been a morning person, but knowing what’s waiting for him outside of his bedroom door, he gets up and quietly goes to the kitchen. His two favourite people are there, speaking in hushed voices like they’re sharing secrets and Eddie’s heart just feels full.

“Hey you two.”

They turn at the same time, wearing matching grins, their curls even similar. God, Shanon would have a field day if she saw how Chris is growing up to somehow look more and more like Buck than either of them. Sure, Eddie sees himself in his kid, and he sees her, too, but he sees so much of Buck it’s almost a bit concerning. Both in the physical aspects than in his mannerisms. Mainly: the eyerolls and exaggerated sighs.

“Dad! Buck’s here!”

“He sure is, buddy,” Eddie laughs as he walks up to them. He presses a kiss to Chris’ head and then one onto Buck’s cheek. “Good morning.”
Buck offers him a smile, and Eddie can tell that he’s still tired, still a bit in his head about everything. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thanks. I’m sor–”

“Buck, no,” Eddie quickly says. He reaches up and places a hand to Buck’s cheek, his thumb brushing against it soothingly. “Baby, no. It’s okay, you’re okay, you don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m glad you came here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Buuuck, the eggs!”

And just like that, they’re brought back to reality.
Christopher tells them about what he’s supposed to be doing today at school, and Eddie finds himself wishing that all of his mornings should be like this.

They’ve only been together for a month– would it be too soon to ask Buck to move in? He’s been staying over at least twice a week since after the lawsuit– it wouldn’t be so crazy.
Plus, Buck hates the loft (everyone hates the loft). He could sublet to Albert. Or to anyone, really. Fuck the loft, Buck should be here.

He decides to tab that idea for later– maybe pick Bobby’s brain about it, see what he thinks.
Then again, Bobby doesn’t know about them (or maybe he does. Bobby is incredibly intuitive).

They get through their morning routine flawlessly. It’s not until after Christopher’s been dropped off that Buck spills about everything that happened the night before. He doesn’t really go into details, but he tells Eddie about how they kept making backhanded compliments at Maddie, and about the babybox he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have. He tells him about how he just exploded on them, how his mom cried, how Maddie cried. Eddie can tell that Buck feels horrible about all of it, and Eddie just wishes he could take that pain away from him, if only to hold it for a bit.

“If you choose to never see them again, I’m 100% with you,” Eddie says, reaching across the middle console to pry one of Buck’s hands loose from the tight fist, slipping his fingers through Buck’s. “You and me, yeah? You and me.”

They get through most of the day without talking about it. The calls are simple enough, and Chim’s weird again. Even Eddie can tell.

It’s 5pm when they finally get a moment to themselves, Buck opting for the gym despite Bobby asking him if he wanted to help with the prep for dinner. He gets a few looks from the crew, and Bobby looks surprised by Buck’s answer, and he simply waves them off. He doesn’t want to get into it, and it’s not his business to share.

While Eddie doesn’t expect to get any lifting in himself, he follows Buck down the stairs.

Buck is huffing and puffing within seconds, hitting the punching bag like he has a personal vendetta against it.
B-shift’s Captain had walked by on her way to her office, looking at Eddie in a way that she seemed to want to make sure that Buck was okay– he’s not known to be angry (that’s Eddie’s thing), even less to be physically intense like this. Eddie waved her off and went over to Buck.

“Tell mom and dad how you feel,” Buck spits, a few more punches landing on the sides of the bag. Eddie chooses to wait it out a bit longer before he says anything, and leans against the beam behind him as he watches. “It’ll be a fresh start!” A few more punches and he walks off a bit. “Two dinners! Two dinners. That’s all it took, and I’m twelve years old again, trapped between my sister and my parents. And now? Planning my awkward apology.”

Well now that’s just wrong. While Eddie knows he hasn’t heard all of what happened, he knows enough to know that Buck has nothing to apologise for. If anything, his parents owe him a thousand and more apologies for everything since he’s been born.

“What do you have to apologise for? Did you say anything that wasn’t true?”

“No... but–”

“Well look... Maybe you could’ve come at it a little differently, but if that’s really how you feel, how they made you feel, you have every right to say so.”

“Yeah, I don't need anymore therapy. I just want to hit things.”

Between two punches, Eddie reaches out and places a hand on the punching bag. The look Buck gives him, eyes full of anger, kind of makes his chest flutter. “I’ve been down that road. I don’t recommend it.” Buck holds his gaze, but doesn’t say anything. It’s the buzzing of Buck’s phone that snaps them out of it. He watches as Buck takes the phone and huffs.

“Maddie again?” He says it like it’s a guess, but Maddie’s been texting Eddie, too, asking him to ask Buck to call her. He’s chosen to not be the middle man, to let Buck feel his anger, to accompany him through it, instead of forcing him into conversations he’s not quite ready for.

“Yeah,” Buck replies. “She’s worried about me.” With the phone still ringing, Buck turns and kicks the punching bag so hard it almost topples.

Eddie has to hold back a snort. He pushes himself off the beam and walks over to the weights, “Can’t imagine why.”

The day goes on but Buck is incredibly distracted when they’re not on calls.
He’s jumping from conversation to conversation, from subject to subject, barely finishing his thoughts.
Eddie has to force feed him dinner when they finally have time to sit for more than five minutes, and even that is a task on its own.

After their shift, Buck goes to see Maddie, claims that even if they go home, he won’t be able to sleep, that while he’s upset, he won’t be able to shut his brain off.
Eddie reckons that it’s a good idea, seeing as the Buckley parents won’t be there this time. Nothing bad can come of this.

But boy is he proven wrong a few hours later.

Buck: i had a brother and no one told me

Eddie gets the text as he’s packing Christopher’s lunch, his heart lurching in his chest as he reads it. Until now he was sure that Buck was still at Maddie’s, but one quick look at the Friends app confirms that Buck’s back at the loft.

Buck: maddie knew and she didn’t tell me
Buck: i think chim knew, too

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He quickly checks on Christopher: he’s in his room working on his geography homework– and hits call on Buck’s number, half expecting him not to answer. When the line connects, there’s only Buck’s shaky breathing.

“Baby,” Eddie says, as softly as he can manage. “Talk to me.”

”I had a brother…” He sounds so broken that Eddie’s eyes immediately well up. ”I was uh… Maddie and I were going through her baby box and I thought I found a picture of me on a bike. ‘Bout 5 or 6 years old… couldn’t recognize the house behind me, asked Maddie where it was taken– But it was from 1989.”

“Fuck.”

There’s a huff of laughter. ”Yeah. Maddie went all… weird. And she told me that that was Daniel. That he died when I was two. I had a brother who died and no one told me and I don’t remember him.”

“Buck, shit. I’m so sorry.”

”Everything makes sense now, you know? How my parents are with me versus how they are with Maddie? It just… all falls into place.”

“What do you mean?”

”Daniel… he uh… He was sick. Really sick. No one was a match for bone marrow transplant. So…”

“No…”

”Yep… so they had me. And guess what? I was a match but the transplant didn’t work… Maddie says she wanted to tell me but never knew when. She’s known all along why my parents hate me and she never told me.”

“Buck, come over. I’ll order you an Uber– Or let me pack a bag with Chris and–”

”I’m fine, Eddie. I’m okay. I just… need to sit with this for a bit. Alone. Albert’s out… so.”

“You’re sure?”

”I’m sure… I just… wanted to let you know. See you tomorrow at work?”

“Yeah, of course…” He bites at the skin of his lip, questioning what he should say next. He’s really not okay with Buck being alone right now but he has a feeling that Buck really does want to grieve for a little while. “I love you.”

”I love you too.”

It takes him a couple of minutes to snap out of it once the call has ended. He sits at his kitchen table, staring at his phone, wishing he could reach through it to hug Buck and make all the bad stuff go away.

A brother. Fuck.
That’s probably why Chimney has been acting weird– he’s known for the whole week.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

–

Eddie has to admit, Buck looks like he’s holding it together.
They all talk about it a few days later at work, and they’re all trying their best to assure Buck that he matters just as Maddie does, but Buck’s just acting almost nonchalant about the fact that he’s a saviour baby. He gives Chimney the cold shoulder when Chimney asks to talk, and he dismisses Maddie when she corners him at the firehouse.

He looks like he’s holding it together, but Eddie knows that Buck’s fuse is getting pretty damn short. He knows that it won’t take much more before Buck breaks, and chances are, he won’t be at Eddie’s house.

The snap itself comes in the form of a 5-alarm at a hand sanitiser factory that’s definitely not up to code. It’s loud, it’s hot, it’s all hands on deck, really. The job is big but they’ve trained for this– they listen to their Captain and do as they’re told.

Eddie hears through the radio that Chimney and Buck get separated when they go look for the last missing worker– Chimney comes out, but Buck ends up lost in the midst of the flames.
They’re still in contact with him, but Buck sounds desperate, he sounds rough, and Eddie feels like his heart is going to beat through his chest.

The team is told not to go inside, that it’s not safe, but Bobby decides for them that they’re not going to listen to those directives, that they’re not going to give up on Buck. Eddie’s thankful, so thankful, because had it not been for Bobby authorizing them to go in, he would’ve gone against every damn order to get to Buck.

The building is a maze– the fire is loud and the finally sprinklers going off isn’t helping in terms of finding Buck.
Bobby is still calling out to him on the radio, hoping to hear it, hoping for Buck to reply, but they get nothing in return. They haven’t heard from him in a few minutes, and Eddie’s anxiety is starting to rise.

They’re told that the structure is unstable, that they have to get out. None of them want to leave him behind.

And that’s when they hear it.

A scream so raw, so loud, that it makes them all freeze on the spot, looking over their shoulders as they’re trying to pin-point the direction it’s coming from. It echoes again through the destroyed halls– it feels like he’s breathing in freezing water.
The last time Eddie heard this scream, they were trying to lift a truck off of Buck’s leg. He still hears it sometimes in his nightmares.

Fearing the worst, they pick up the pace, trying their best to follow the sound. Eddie’s trying to mentally prepare himself but he has no idea for what. He doesn’t know what they’re going to find, none of them do.
The screams stop, almost abruptly so, and Eddie pushes past the others to enter the next area.

They finally find Buck, nearly collapsed on himself, helmet nowhere in sight, pulling at a rope. Eddie barely registers where the victim is before he rushes to Buck’s side and grabs onto the rope, his hands right by Buck’s, the others joining behind a second later.
He sees it the moment Buck realizes that they’re there, sees the anguish in his eyes, the soot on his face, the tear tracks on his cheeks. They pull and they pull until the man is freed and Eddie helps Buck as they leave.
Buck doesn’t say a word to him. He just… looks lost. He looks like he doesn’t quite believe that he’s made it out.

Hen ushers him to the ambulance and Eddie watches from afar, forced to focus on the other patients, as she checks him over and gives him oxygen. He watches Buck finally sync back with his body as Bobby and Hen talk to him. He knows that Buck’s in good hands, but the distance is almost painful.
He watches as he leaves in the ambulance, their eyes meeting for a second before the doors close.

The ride back to the firehouse is a quiet one. Bobby has a look in his eyes that Eddie’s never seen before and Eddie wonders if it has anything to do with what they talked about– he can’t even ask Hen; she left with the ambulance. With Buck.

They all seem to realise just how close they got to losing Buck, and no one wants to voice it.
Eddie’s pretty sure that he’ll cry if he does speak up.

Bobby puts them offline for a bit, giving them time to shower and sleep for a few hours. He’s in Buck’s preferred bunk when his phone lights up. The first message is to the team’s group chat, telling them all that he’s staying the night so they can monitor his lungs, and the second is to him directly.

Buck: hospitals suck

Eddie huffs out a laugh and turns to his side, pulling the hoodie he stole from Buck’s locker over his nose. Buck’s probably the worst patient he knows. He hates being forced still and he hates having nothing to do or just sitting with his thoughts.

Eddie: I know, I’m sorry ❤️how are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he has to ask it.
Bubbles indicate that Buck is typing– they disappear and appear a few times. Even miles away, Eddie knows that Buck is trying to word it in a way that Eddie won’t worry.

Eddie: how are you really

Buck: 🙃
Buck: Kind of… emotionally numb? Breathing hurts, throat’s fucked, i have a few burns… nothing’s broken or sprained, and yeah.

He’s not surprised about his throat being hurt considering how raw his screams were. Just thinking about it makes a shiver go up Eddie’s spine.

Eddie: you’ve had a rough week, huh?

Buck: tell me about it. I have a call with Dr. Copeland in the morning. Bobby suggested it. She is not ready for the life update i’m gonna drop on her.

Eddie: do you wanna facetime until you fall asleep? Idk that I can talk right now but I wanna see your face.

Buck: yes 💚

–

Eddie wakes up to the call surprisingly still going, his airpods out of his ears, his phone at 10%, and what he thinks is Buck’s cheek or his neck taking up the whole screen. It’s six in the morning now– so either they didn’t have a call, or Bobby put them offline for the night. Either way, he doesn’t care. He’s just glad that Buck’s sleeping.

He quietly gets up, careful to not wake anyone, and steps out of the bunk room. They have a few chargers upstairs and he’s in desperate need of coffee.
There’s some shuffling on Buck’s side, he hears a nurse come in, and when Buck’s phone is picked up, he finally pipes up, stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the stairs.

“Please don’t end the call,” he says, holding his phone up to his face so that they see him if they look at it. Hopefully Buck’s phone is on speaker and the volume is loud enough.

”Oh! Hello.” The phone turns to a nurse that Eddie’s pretty sure to have seen over the years but whose name eludes him. ”I’ll just put you down right here,” the man says, prompting Buck’s phone up against something on the side table. Like this, Eddie can see Buck’s sleeping face, he can see how soft his features are, and he really hopes that Buck is having nice dreams. ”I’ve plugged you in.”

“I– thank you.” There isn’t much more he wants to say, but there’s a lot he wants to ask. The nurse leaves and something in Eddie’s chest settles. Now, not set against Buck’s face, Eddie can hear Buck’s heart rate monitor. The steady beeping plays in his ear as he heads up to the kitchen and starts the coffee machine.
It’s an older model, similar to the one he had at home before Buck got him the monstrosity that is Hildy. (Eddie won’t say it outloud, but no cup of coffee has been better than the ones he’s made at home since getting that God forsaken machine a few weeks ago.)

He has time to have his coffee and get through the day’s crossword puzzle before Buck wakes up to a nurse coming in to check his O2 levels.
Coincidentally, Bobby is by Eddie when this happens so Eddie offers him an airpod so he can talk to Buck with him.
It’s agreed between them, much to Eddie’s chagrin, that Bobby will go and fetch him in a little bit.

Just as Bobby leaves in the battalion truck, a taxi pulls into the firehouse’s lot– he can feel it in his bones that this isn’t a visit anyone wants.
Two people get out of the car. Presumably a couple that seem to be in their mid to late 60s, maybe early 70s. The woman is about 5’4”, white hair, a concerned look on her face– the man is about Eddie’s height, glasses, and his whole posture lets Eddie know that he probably wants to be anywhere but here. Something about them is… familiar… and that’s all that Eddie needs to know as they’re walking into the bay.

“I’ve got this,” Hen says, patting him on the shoulder as she walks by him. He watches as she approaches them, her shoulders squared. Pleasantries seem to be exchanged but he recognizes that laugh as Hen’s customer service laugh– she’s not fooling him.

Part of him really hoped that they weren’t who he thought they were, but when Hen turns and walks them into the firehouse, he sees the apologetic look on her face and his spine straightens.
Well. This wasn’t how he wanted to meet his boyfriend’s parents for the first time but he supposes it could’ve been worse.

Somehow.

They introduce themselves, Eddie does the same, omitting the fact that he’s dating their son, and it takes all of his self-restraint and all the tricks he learned in therapy to not yell at them for how shitty they were (and are) to Buck.
Instead, the crew that’s in the loft all decide that they’re going to talk Buck up to them, try to make them see how amazing their son is. How great, how genuine, and how loved he is.

–

Unfortunately, it takes about two hours for Buck to come back with Bobby. Two hours of idle small talk with the Buckleys who, by Eddie’s book, are some of the most boring people he’s ever met. They barely ask questions, about the job or about Buck, and they don’t offer any information about themselves, either. Had they not taken the initiative to talk about Buck, they would’ve all sat in awkward silence in the loft.

Eddie’s at the doors to meet up with Buck and Bobby, if only to give him a little bit of a warning before he goes up to the loft. He respects Buck’s decision to go talk to them alone but something in his chest is trying to pull him forward, trying to get him to follow.

They stay over for dinner, during which Eddie barely says a word. Buck seems happy– or happier, at least, so it’s a start. Maybe his talk got him a bit of closure? Eddie’s not sure how to address it, really. He hopes that Buck will come to him later to debrief.

He doesn’t. Not immediately. Says that he needs a bit of time to himself and he goes back to the loft.

And hey, Eddie gets it! He does! In the span of one week he had to see his parents for the first time in years, find out about Daniel, and almost die in a factory fire. It’s a lot for one person to bear in such a short amount of time.
Eddie just wishes that Buck would talk to him more. Sure, they’re in the first few weeks of their relationship but it’s not like it’s new.

Usually he’d be okay with this knowing that Buck would go to Maddie with this, but he’s not talking to her right now.
Which is why he decides that, as the boyfriend that’s planning on sticking around and becoming the fiancé and then the husband, he won’t just stand around and wait while he knows that his partner is hurting.
So he asks Abuela if she can take Chris for the night– he’s old enough to spend a few hours alone at home but not the whole night, no matter how much Chris argues that he is.

Once Christopher is settled in for the evening, Eddie decides to hit up Buck’s favourite restaurants of the moment to grab him a little bit of everything he knows he loves, and heads over to the loft.
He finds it dark and cold– the blinds are pulled and the AC seems to be on. There’s no music or show playing, no sound that Eddie can hear from the door. He knows that Buck’s here; Buck’s car is where it’s supposed to be in Buck’s parking.

After quietly putting his keys on their designated hook and placing his food down on the kitchen island, Eddie ventures in further. Still no Buck in sight.

He finds him asleep upstairs, his back turned to the stairs. It’s barely 6pm and while they did just come off a shift, they have the next 72 off and Eddie knows Buck well enough to know that Buck wouldn’t go to bed this early.
This is one of Buck’s avoidance techniques, Eddie knows this. Eddie’s lived this. (“I can’t be upset if I’m unconscious, Eddie!” Buck had said one day after where everything had gone wrong. He’d just gone off to bed, not caring about the time of day and had decided that it was time for tomorrow to come faster. The logic was a little bit flawed, but Eddie had to admit that it worked sometimes.)

So. Eddie knows how to pull Buck out of it.

“Hey,” he whispers, settling down onto the bed gently, reaching out to trail his fingers against the side of Buck’s arm. “It’s me.” It’s silly to say, but he just wants Buck to hear his voice. He keeps his voice quiet, not wanting to startle him in case he’s actually asleep. “I brought food.”

It’s quiet, but there’s a grumbled response a second or so later, “Not hungry.”

He trails his fingers back up Buck’s arm and replaces them with his hand instead, giving Buck’s bicep a small squeeze. “Have you eaten since the hospital?” He doesn’t remember him eating at the firehouse. “Other than a protein bar?” Another grumble and Eddie leans down to kiss Buck’s shoulder. “I got all of your favourites.” He tries to say it with a teasing voice and hopes that it gets something out of Buck. “There’s chicken wings,” another kiss to Buck’s arm, “That gross kale salad you like,” kiss, “Brownies,” kiss, “a couple tacos…”

“‘m not hungry, Eddie,” Buck repeats, and his voice sounds so broken that Eddie’s heart hurts. He presses his cheek against Buck’s bicep and hugs him a little bit closer.

“It’s either you eat, or we go for a walk, your choice.” Anything to get Buck out of his head, really. Buck groans and finally sits up. When he turns to look at Eddie, Eddie immediately notices the tear tracks on his cheeks and the sad look in his eyes. “Hey,” he reaches out and dries one of the tears with the back of his fingers. “I’m here, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

Buck doesn’t say anything this time, but it happens almost instantly: his eyes water and he reaches for Eddie and buries his face in Eddie’s stomach, sobs shaking his shoulders.

They do eventually talk about it all– the Buckleys of it all– and slowly, Buck’s smile comes back. It’s not all there, but it’s there.
They spend the 72 off doing chores, but they do try to stay out of the house. Buck goes to see Maddie, and when he comes back with red-rimmed eyes, Eddie already reaching for his phone, ready to defend him– But as it turns out, Maddie had given him her own version of Buck’s baby box with all the postcards and mementos she’d saved over the years. Secretly, Eddie thinks of the box that’s in Christopher’s closet, where he knows his son has been storing a lot of Buck related items, too. Secretly, he can’t wait for Christopher to give it to him one day.
On day two, they go for a hike, and they try a new restaurant with Chris. On day three, Buck actually plans a date for them, complete with flowers and slow dancing and soft kisses in the kitchen when they get home.

Overall, Buck’s on the mend, and Eddie has his back.

–

“Is he okay?”

Eddie jumps slightly at the sound of Bobby’s voice. He turns on his heels and sees that his captain is standing a foot behind him, his eyes trained on Buck who’s working out with Chim. It’s been a week now since the whole Buckley Fiasco, a week since they’ve left the state; both Maddie and Buck had breathed a bit easier once their parents had messaged to say that they were home safe.
In lieu of a response, Eddie sighs and tosses the sponge in the soapy water bucket that’s at his feet– it’s not like he was getting any cleaning done, anyways. It was more to keep his hands busy. Water sploshes out of the bucket and he chooses to ignore it for now; he’s the one that’s going to have to mop it up later, anyways.

“Yes and no?” Bobby’s gaze flickers over to him and he leans against the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve never seen him like how he was that night, Bobby. He… he really scared me… and he’s okay but… I can still hear his screams.”

“Did he tell you what he told Hen and me?” Eddie nods, albeit reluctantly, and Bobby sighs. “He scared me too, Eddie. I don’t think I’ve been that scared for him since…” He exhales a shaky breath and shakes his head. “God, I don’t even know which event scared me the most. Probably when he coughed up blood in my backyard.” He huffs out a laugh, but they both know there’s nothing funny. “That kid’s given me so many grey hairs.”

“I’m keeping an eye on him, Bobby. But I wouldn’t say no to another set of eyes. He’s been… Forgetful? Sometimes he’ll stop in the middle of the room and forget what he was doing. It’s always been a thing, and it was cute at first, but I’m a bit concerned. What if the emotional stress triggered something? He’s clumsier, he’s walking into things, always tired but sleeping a lot…”

“Triggered something… Like what?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t know, Bobby. I’ve tried looking up what I’m seeing but Google just gives me extreme things, as usual.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, “Classic Google, huh? Let me know if I can do anything, Eddie, okay?”

"I wil, Bobby. Thank you."

Chapter Text

Bobby exhales tiredly as he exits the locker room, freshly showered and buttoning up his clean uniform. They’ve just come back from a five-hour call that was a second away from becoming a five-alarm. As soon as they’d pulled into the firehouse, Bobby had put them offline for the next 2 hours. Trucks needed to be restocked, cleaned, and bellies needed to be filled. Bobby should probably take the opportunity to do a little bit of paperwork but the smell wafting down from the loft is more enticing than anything else right now.
With that in mind, he decides that the riveting tasks of scheduling can wait for a little bit and he takes the steps up to the loft two-by-two, excited to finally get more details on what Buck’s been cooking up all day.

From what Buck has said regarding what he wanted to make today, he was planning one hell of a feast. Something about a trial run of various dishes for Maddie’s birthday, maybe? Some recipes he saw online that needed a little bit more love than other meals he usually made and that needed a lot of attention in the early process.
Buck had been explaining everything quite quickly earlier, Bobby suspects he might’ve had one coffee too many– something they usually kept track of at the firehouse: how many coffees Buck’s had within XYZ time, and also: if he’s eaten. Both because coffee on an empty stomach isn’t healthy, and because he tends to accidentally skip meals.
That being said, they’re not always with Buck (Not even Eddie, contrary to popular belief) and they can’t always keep count. Besides, Buck’s an adult, he should keep himself in check.

Keyword: Should.

-

Per his request, Buck has been man behind for the last couple of hours. It was rare, almost unheard of, for Buck to ask to stay behind. Sure, the man loves to cook now, but never to a point where he misses out on calls voluntarily.
It has been happening quite often lately, Buck staying behind. Bobby has to admit that he’s a little bit worried– But when he asks Buck, Buck says that he’s Okay. Not good, not great, but okay. He says that he knows that he can go to Bobby if he does want to talk, and while that does soothe Bobby’s worries a little bit, his quiet concerns for Buck never quite leave him. They’re not something he leaves behind when he’s done with work.
Once upon a time, he said that the 118 wasn’t a family– oh how times have changed, since. He would go to battle for that boy, for all of them, really.

So Buck stays behind from time-to-time, either to prep whatever needs prepping, and do other chores. It’s different, but not worrying behaviour.
If anything, it’s better than him stealing a truck for extra-curricular… activities.
At that thought, Bobby shudders. He does not miss how Buck was when he started with the 118, and he really hopes that the probie they’re getting in a few weeks, Ravi, won’t give him any additional grey hairs.

–

As he reaches the top of the stairs, he expects Buck to be in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, tending to his dinner rolls, or focused on stirring something in a pan, listening to a show on one of his multiple streaming services or listening to a podcast.

Except… Buck isn’t in the kitchen, and at first glance, he isn’t anywhere to be found in the loft.

On the stove, there’s a large pot of heavily boiling water for what Bobby assumes are the mostly peeled potatoes that are either on the counter (half peeled) or in the stainless steel bowl (peeled and cut up). Next to that, there’s the cut up carrots, the dish Buck usually uses for food-waste. The dish itself looks a bit… rustique, and to the eye of someone that doesn’t know anything about it: it’s broken and flawed, and the paint job is so-so. One of the handles is snapped, and Bobby’s pretty sure it leaks if there’s liquid in it. What he knows, and what the firehouse knows, however, is that that particular dish was made by one Christopher Diaz when he was 8 during a special pottery class at school. He had made it for Buck specifically, and Buck cherishes the piece with his whole heart. It’s seen better days, sure, but Buck’s found use for it as the dish for food scraps like peels and stems, and things that fall to the ground. He’ll dump it into the compost bin later– and said compost bin is actually out of its cabinet… empty. Bagless, and a bit smelly.
Looking around, Bobby notices that there are a few of the cabinet doors open and he’s pretty sure that the fridge isn’t fully closed, either. At least the dishes that Buck did complete are properly covered and put aside on the counter.

All of that, but still no Buck to be seen.

He gives the loft another check and sighs. This isn’t new behaviour: Buck’s an easily distracted guy; his mind tends to wander– whether it’s during a task he’s not focused on or even during a conversation, but recently, ever since the whole Daniel thing went down, just like Eddie had said, Buck’s become more and more… aloof.

Bobby had started to notice more after their talk. Often enough that he’s been jolting down a few notes now to keep track of Buck’s behaviour. Not to reprimand him, just to maybe sit him down for a talk about it one day soon and have something to back his claims on.
And listen, Bobby gets it: A massive bomb was dropped on him not even a month ago– Buck’s going to feel a lot of different emotions regarding this and he’s going to feel them all at the same time in very conflicting ways… But Bobby knows that Buck is sensitive, that his emotions are often heightened and that he struggles to regulate them at times– he’s found ways to help Buck over the years, to keep his mind or his hands busy, but the last few weeks have been…

He’s not sure what word he could use to describe how he’s felt regarding Buck recently. Worried, would be one, and concerned, another.

Athena says to just keep an eye on him, to not intervene, that he’s not Buck’s father, but damn it, Bobby can’t help it. When he started at the 118, Buck didn’t have anyone to lookout for him.
Not his parents, not his sister, not even his friends. Bobby was Buck’s emergency contact, for crying out loud. Bobby gladly stepped up; no one had to ask him. Did this change their relationship in a way that it wasn’t just professional? Most definitely. Was Buck the reason that the 118 was a family now? Of course he was. And all Bobby had done was show him love and attention.
All Bobby had done was show Buck that he was worthy of love. Did he imprint on Buck as a father figure? Or did Buck imprint on him as a son-figure? Maybe. That’s not all his fault.

Bobby has been there with him, through thick and thin. Maddie’s return, the firetruck, the embolism, the tsunami, the lawsuit… God, if he could bubble wrap that kid he would.

Right now? Right now Buck’s problems are more mental than physical.

Bobby knows that Buck’s been going to therapy, and while it’s probably helping, it can’t solve everything. It won’t make him accept overnight that he had a brother, it won’t make him forgive his parents or Maddie. Buck is mourning a sibling he never knew and he’s re-evaluating his relationships.
He can tell that Buck’s struggling. He knows that Buck’s thrilled to have had a brother, that he just hates that he had to learn about it the way he did, that he’s now mourning this person he’s never known.

So he goes to the stove to turn down the heat and goes on the search for Buck.

He makes his way down the stairs– there’s an abandoned purple bag of compost by the bottom step, and no one in sight except Huey from B-Shift, who’s using the punching bag. When she notices him looking at her, she moves her headphones to free up an ear.

“Have you seen Buckley?”

“Buckley?” She looks around and shakes her head. “Saw him earlier. I think he went to the laundry room? He gathered a few towels.”

She seems surprised when he sighs, her eyes a bit wide. “Ah– Sorry, Huey. I just can’t seem to track him down.” Once she’s back to punching the bag, he crouches down and grabs the compost bag, deciding that he’ll take it out while he’s at it, taking a small detour through the office spaces and to the back door so he can drop it in the big bin.
Once he’s back inside, he goes back towards the locker rooms and down to the left where a quiet humming reaches his ear. Humming he knows belongs to Buck.
He finds him happily folding towels on the counter in the laundry room, music playing out of his phone’s speakers.

To get Buck’s attention without startling him, Bobby starts by knocking on the doorframe– it’s not loud, but it gets the job done.

“Bobby! Hi!” Buck says, a bright grin on his face as he puts aside a towel. “Finish that paperwork?”

“I haven’t actually started,” he replies, stepping into the room. “It’s been piling up, so I guess I'll get to it later. What are you doing here?” He doesn’t want to just outright tell him why he’s there; he wants to know if Buck knows what he’s doing.

“I just wanted to get started on some stuff. Food, trash, you know.” He gestures to the room. “Laundry.”

“You do know that Anderson has laundry duty today, right?”

“I– right. I didn’t look at the chore chart. I–” His expression shifts for a second and Bobby patiently waits for Buck to realise what’s happening. When he doesn’t say anything and just stares at what Bobby assumes to be nothing, he decides to speak up. “Wait.”

And so Bobby does. He waits.
He waits and watches as Buck’s smile turns into a frown.
“Oh shit! The trash!”

At that Bobby rolls his eyes, but it’s with love. Really!
“And…”

Buck’s brow furrows and he starts to mumble to himself, counting something on his fingers as he does. A couple more seconds pass and something flashes across Buck’s features before he looks up at Bobby, eyes wide and full of questions.

“Buck, what are you doing in the laundry room if you’re taking out the trash?”

“I was prepping dinner,” Buck replies, as if it’s the easiest thing ever. “And…” He frowns again and his gaze goes a bit glassy. “I threw out some rotten onions but noticed that the compost bin was full… So I figured I would change the bag, you know? So I pulled it out and headed downstairs… but then I saw that someone from B-shift left a few tools out from working on the truck so I put the bag down to pick the tools up to bring them back to the workshop. And there, I found a few greasy rags that were lying around so I went around downstairs to pick up any laundry I saw and I brought them here.” He points at the working laundry machine and looks at Bobby, “And decided to fold whatt was ready.”

“And do you remember that you left the stove on?”

“Shit!”

He moves to sprint out of the room but Bobby is quick to hold his hand up. “I turned it down, don’t worry. But, Buck… are you okay?”

“Okay? Yeah, course I am. I just… you know. Got distracted. One thing led to another or whatever. I’m sorry, Bobby. I swear I’ll do better.”

“It’s just,” Bobby sighs and makes his way towards Buck. He places his hand on Buck’s shoulder and waits until Buck’s given him his full attention. “It’s been happening a lot these days.” Something in Buck’s eyes shifts and Bobby wonders if he’s said something out of line.
He and Buck have always had a different relationship– he calls him kid, Buck calls him pops... they’ve never officially talked about it, and Bobby’s never cowered away from having these types of conversations with him. He knows that he doesn’t have anyone outside of work that looks out for him in a way a parent would.

Sure, he has Eddie and Maddie, and he has the rest of the 118, but this? What they have? It’s different. Bobby worries about Buck’s wellbeing more than he’d admit to.

So he repeats his questions, “Are you okay?”

This time around, Buck doesn’t reply immediately, like he senses that the question isn’t coming from Captain Nash, but just Bobby. His hands seem to tighten around the towel he’s holding and slowly, he nods.

“I uh… Yeah. I think so, Bobby. Just… Tired, I guess? A little bit all over the place.”

Considering everything that the kid’s been through in the last couple of weeks, Bobby isn’t surprised. He’s just glad that Buck’s being honest with him.
He finds his eyes again before he speaks up, “Have you spoken with Dr. Copeland?”

Buck nods and he reaches for his back pocket, pausing and bringing his hand back. “Phone’s upstairs,” he says quietly. “I have a session tomorrow, I think? Been on bi-weekly chats since the uh,” He clears his throat, “Daniel thing.”

“That’s great, Buck. I’m glad you sought her out.” He steps towards the counter and grabs a towel, figures it’s better to help Buck get this done, to show him that it’s okay.
Except he notices that Buck’s eyes are on his hands after he’s done his first fold and that Buck’s frowning. “Buck?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like it’s nothing.”

A moment passes and Buck’s expression doesn’t change. “It’s just… if you fold it like that, the dobby stripe won’t show and it’ll look mismatched when they’re all piled.” He makes a point to gesture to said pile of towels and Bobby does have to admit that they look very neat.

He knows that some of their coworkers would probably brush him off and say it doesn’t matter, that they go through the towels so quickly that no one notices, but Buck notices, and that matters to Bobby. It matters to Bobby that Buck has such high standards for things.
“Show me how you do it?” Buck’s face lights up and the younger man shuffles around the island to be next to Bobby. He starts to show him the steps and Bobby makes it a point to actively listen so he can do it this way from now on.

It’s only when Buck’s back on the other side, smiling when Bobby folds a towel perfectly, that Bobby asks his next question. “So, the dobby stripe?”

Buck snorts and Bobby sees the tips of Buck’s ears go red. “I uh, yeah. I was looking at towels one day and I noticed they all have this strip on them, you know? Either like this towel, where it’s like, a 2 to 3 inch ridge, or some it’s embroidery or something– so I Googled. Like, is there a purpose?”

“And is there?”

“Sometimes,” Buck replies and his fingers pass over the smooth ridge in question. “Sometimes it’s just for the branding, for the aesthetic when the towels are folded. Some people claim it’s for structural purposes. Dunno why it’s called the dobby stripe.” At that, Bobby arches an eyebrow– he knows Buck better than most people. He knows that Buck wouldn’t leave it at that. “Okay fine,” Buck groans with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s called that because of the loom that used to be used to make them. The dobby loom from like, the 1890s. But like, the dobby was something they put on the loom to help with patterns. Cool, huh? Made me wanna buy a loom but then I saw the prices and figured I’d stick to knitting.”

“Huh. Never would’ve thought there was history behind such a thing.” They’re quiet for a few moments and Bobby drops the towel. “Wait. You knit?!”

-

They get through the folding within the next 10 minutes and once it’s put away, Bobby escorts Buck back up to the kitchen, shaking his head fondly when he hears Buck softly counting the stairs he’s taking under his breath, and offers to be his sous-chef. An offer that makes Buck seem so happy and proud.

Like: Look at me! My teacher wants to be my sous-chef.
The love Bobby feels for this man is almost overwhelming– he’s so proud of how far Buck’s come and the man he’s become. He’s so thankful that Buck’s in his life and that they lean on each other when they need to.

Then, Buck hip-checks the corner of the counter and swears so loudly that it breaks Bobby out of his Buck-related chain-of-thought. The kid immediately insists that he’s fine and from where he’s sat at the table, Eddie snorts and claims that Buck really needs to learn how to walk straight.

“That’s homophobic, Eddie,” Buck calls out as he’s tying his apron around his waist.

Eddie gawks at that and throws his arms up in the air, his book now closed on the table. “How on Earth is that homophobic?” Of course, this is when the rest of the team decide to make their way up the stairs. True to himself, Chimney is already cackling at the scene unfolding in the loft. “How would that even work?!”

“You’re asking me to be straight. I’m bisexual,” Buck replies, and while Bobby hadn’t wanted to assume Buck’s (or anyone’s) sexuality, he’s a bit surprised that Buck’s coming out like this.
There’s a beat of silence, and Buck frowns. “Why are you all looking at me like that, you know this.”

At that, Bobby looks to his crew, who are already looking at him, and they all look back at Buck. “No, Buck,” Hen says, “Pretty sure we didn’t know this.”

“I– what?! How did you not know?!” He grabs a clean spoon, dips it into one of the pots that had been simmering and quickly goes to Eddie. “Taste this.” He all but shoves the spoon into Eddie’s mouth and just as quickly as he’d gone from one thing to another, he’s back to his original thought. “I’m always pointing out hot people, regardless of gender, and I went on a 5 minute rant about how hot I find Mads Mikkelsen– And don’t get me started on what I said about Oscar Isaac!” He puts a hand on his hip and gestures for Hen to speak up– Bobby, on the other hand, focuses on peeling and cutting up the rest of the potatoes.

“I just thought you were saying they were objectively attractive!”

“Hen! How more obvious do I have to get?! I said I wanted that guy from Step Up Revolution to bend me over! Now tell me how you like the sauce?!”

Eddie sputters his way through the next couple of seconds, and Bobby suspects that he’s short-circuiting in a way that he doesn’t know where to start with unpacking what Buck said. His whole face is red, from his cheeks to his neck.
One thing’s for sure: Bobby is not going to participate in this exchange. He’s already heard way too much. On or off the clock, this is not something he wants to contribute to or be a part of.

“The sauce is great, Buck,” Eddie finally says, and it’s wise on his part to disregard the other bit of the conversation, if only for the sake that they’re at work. “So, uh,” he clears his throat and looks to Buck, whose eyes go a bit wide. Buck shakes his head, to which Eddie makes a face, and Buck replies (is he replying?) by pursing his lips.

“What’s happening?” Chimney asks, looking between the pair like he’s watching tennis. Their facial expressions keep changing but no words are being exchanged. “No, seriously. What’s happening?”

Finally, Buck gestures to Eddie, who claps once and stands. “Ok. So. While we’re on the subject of coming out… I’m gay, Buck and I have been together for two months, yes Maddie knows, yes Chris knows, no I will not be taking questions, and…” he looks at Buck. “Have I forgotten anything?” Buck nods towards Bobby, and Eddie quickly turns to look at him. “Oh! We will be needing any HR forms that need filling.”

“I–” Bobby gives himself a few instants to take in all of the information that Eddie just spewed out, but his brain seems to be making the same noises his old computer used to do when connecting to the internet.

“You broke Bobby!”

Bobby rolls his eyes at Chimney’s outburst and gestures at them all to calm down. “Bobby’s fine,” he says with a laugh. “It’s… a lot, in just a few seconds.”
From the corner of his eye, he notices that Buck is looking at him, hands gripping a wooden spoon tightly. “So,” he turns to properly face Buck. “A few months, huh?”

Buck’s cheeks are dusted red, his eyes searching; he’s probably wondering if Bobby is upset or not about this. “Uh-huh,” he replies quietly, nodding almost too softly for Bobby to notice. “Is that… um, okay?”

“Buck… Of course it’s okay.” Buck’s shoulders visibly relax and Bobby does the next logical thing: he goes over to Buck and engulfs him in the hug he deserves. “I’m proud of you, kid,” he says softly, only for Buck’s ear. He feels Buck’s arms tighten around him and his heart grows a few sizes.
When they pull back, Buck’s eyes mirror his own: a bit misty, but no tears shed.
He turns to Eddie, who’s being released from Hen’s grasp, and opens his arms for him, too.

-

After that day, Bobby decides to keep a(n even) closer eye on Buck.
He catches the kid forcing a smile onto his face more than once during the course of the week– either at the firehouse or at a call. He sees how the smile doesn’t reach his eyes like it usually does, how it’s immediately gone as soon as his back is turned. He sees how sad Buck looks and Bobby wishes he could help, wishes he could take this burden off his shoulders.

Wishes he could go back in time and scold his parents into giving Buck the love and attention he craves so much, the love and affection he didn’t get as a kid.

Some days he looks like he’s doing well, some others Buck looks like he hasn’t slept in days even though he says he’s slept a decent amount of hours (backed with data from his Apple Watch showing them all the proof behind his words).
He’s always on the move, always doing something– the gym, cleaning, cooking, running– his hands have to be busy. Bobby wonders if it’s to keep his mind busy, to keep him from thinking about everything that’s going on.

It’s when he calls out sick to work that Bobby starts to get really worried. For as long as he’s known him, Buck has never called in sick. Excluding when he was on medical leave for an injury, the handful of times when he missed work was because he was sent home after going to work with a fever, claiming to be okay when he clearly wasn’t. Even on medical leave Buck tends to wander into the firehouse to see them– so for Buck to willingly call in? It has to be bad.
He doesn’t want to pry, but he does ask Eddie about it, and Eddie confirms that Buck has been struggling to get out of bed recently. Says that they’re managing it, that Buck’s physically fine, but today is just not a good day.

In his office, Bobby sends Athena a quick text; she’s off today and tomorrow, and other than lounging at home and getting a few chores done, he knows that his wife is going to get bored. He just tells her that Buck called in. He doesn’t even have to ask her to go check up on him, she suggests it immediately. It gives him peace of mind to go on with his own shift, and it seems to settle Eddie as well, knowing that Buck will be looked after by someone they love and trust.

Except.
It doesn’t really get better.

Sure, Buck comes into work the next day, and he said that he was just having an off day, but Bobby sees it. He sees how quieter Buck’s becoming, how less involved he is, how deeper his eyebags are.
Knowing that he and Eddie are together more often than not helps soothe the worry, but something is wrong and Bobby doesn’t know how to approach it.

Something is wrong, and there’s nothing that Bobby can think of doing to help.

Chapter Text

Buck feels like something is clawing at him inside his chest.
The feeling has been there for weeks now, but this morning when he had woken up, it had been more present, more alive, and it’s just been getting worse as the day has gone by. Growing, and growing, and growing. It feels like a heavy, painful weight on his chest… and nothing he does alleviates it. He’s talked about this with Dr. Copeland and she’s taught him coping mechanisms. They usually work.

Usually.

He tries to breathe deeply, he works out, he drinks water— nothing. Work goes okay, they don’t get too many calls– which is both a good and a bad thing. Good because that means that people are safe, bad because when he’s not focused on work, he’s in his head. So he keeps busy, but the clawing is becoming more persistent, his skin is feeling too tight, and his eyes are stinging.

2 hours. He has 2 hours left before he can go back to the Diaz residence. 2 hours before he can go back to where he calls home.

He almost called in sick again today, but he just did that last week. People will be suspicious if it becomes a regular thing, and the last thing he needs is for Bobby to be on his case, asking him if he’s okay. It’s apparently already a sign of the end of the world that he’s called out at all, so much so that Hen joked about having a cake made with the text ’Buck used some sick days’ written on it.

He can do this.

Except he can’t.

The day started out horribly when he dropped his favourite plate, and little things just piled on from there.

First of all: Eddie’s not on shift. Next: His underwear was inside out, the bathroom ran out of paper, the milk was bad, someone was chewing too loudly at breakfast, the tag of his shirt is itchy, he missed a spot when he shaved, the smells are overwhelming, the lights are too bright, the list to goes on and on.

What finally makes him break is his belt loop getting stuck on a drawer in the kitchen as moving aside while he’s doing the dishes.
It’s stupid. He knows it is, but he can’t control how tight his chest gets when he realises he’s stuck, he can’t control how his eyes fill with tears and how he drops everything he’s holding, a loud swear leaving his lips as he does.

Something in him snaps, his breath hitches, and the tears start flowing.

He excuses himself quietly and makes a run for a supply closet downstairs, one that’s more secluded that no one really goes to. The tears won’t stop– he doesn’t know why they’re falling with such eagerness on his cheeks and he can’t seem to get them to stop.
Once the door is closed behind him, he slides down to sit on the floor and hides his face in his hands, hoping to muffle any sounds. He’s not sure who was upstairs, Jackson and Riley for sure. Maybe one of them will get Bobby, or someone else will follow him, but the panic is settling too quickly in his chest for him to care about who witnessed the event.

Oh how he wishes he knew what was wrong, but nothing makes sense– Work is going well, his family is healthy, he’s healthy, and he thinks that Eddie might ask him to move in soon— maybe. He even has a therapy appointment with his parents next week, with them and with Maddie. So. That’s a good thing, right? The efforts? He’s happy about that. So why does he feel like this? There’s no reason for him to be feeling like this. No reason to be crying because his belt loop got stuck. There’s no reason why he can’t get out of bed in the morning, why his brain feels foggy half the time, why even seeing Christopher, the best kid in the whole world, doesn’t put a smile on his face.

Realistically, he knows it’s not about the belt loop. Of course it’s not. But fuck that belt loop, man. He just wants to rip it off. He wants to tear the walls off and scream his throat raw.

At this point, he’s pretty convinced that he has either depression or anxiety or both. Most of the symptoms fit, and he knows that something’s not right.
He’s brought up these concerns with Dr Copeland, and they’re looking into it together, but he needs them to find a diagnosis yesterday. He just wants to feel like he used to.

He just wants to feel like Buck again. Whoever Buck even is at this point.
Has he ever really known how he feels? He knows he’s not exactly the same at work and at home, that he projects an image he wants people to see versus how he really is… somewhere along the way, he’s lost sight of himself.
And when he’s alone, when there’s no one around, no music, no distractions, he sees a man he doesn’t recognize.

In the darkness of the closet, he doesn’t know how much time passes. His phone is upstairs and he refuses to look at his watch, refuses to have it illuminate the small space.
At some point, a voice on the other side of the door reaches his ears and he immediately sucks in a breath, hoping that the person doesn’t hear him. He does his best to stay quiet, willing for them to leave, his chest heaving at intervals as he’s holding his breath.

They’re not leaving, they’re getting louder.
It’s when they laugh that Buck realises that it’s Chimney, so he scrambles to his feet and presses his ear to the door. From what he can pick up from the conversation, he seems to be talking to Maddie.
Maddie is exactly who he needs right now.

He gets up and rushes out, almost tripping on his feet as he does, not even thinking about the fact that his face is red and blotchy, that he’s still sniffling and swollen and gross. He simply stops in front of Chimney and quietly asks, “Is that Maddie?” There’s an immediate look of worry on Chimney’s face, but when his friend nods, Buck reaches out, palm open and expecting. “Can I?” His voice is cracking, his breath hitching, but he can’t help it. He can’t recall the last time he sounded this desperate. “Please?”

No words are exchanged— Chimney gives him the phone and after giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, he leaves.

“Howie? Did you hear what I said?” On the other end of the line, Maddie giggles and for a moment Buck feels bad for interrupting what was probably a wonderful conversation.

“Maddie?” Buck hiccups and he presses his free palm to his eye as a sob racks his chest and he feels it through the next ones, too. It feels like he’s back in the factory, his lungs hurting, unable to breathe. “Maddie, c-can I come over? Please, Maddie?”

Evan?” Her tone immediately changes and he hears the emergency, the worry. “Evan, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know,” Buck replies with a sob, and he sinks down to the floor, his back to the wall. “I just feel really shitty and I-I-I can’t stop crying and I really wish mom loved me, cause I really want to feel what a mom hug is and—and—” He can’t help the sobs that break through, that he’s trying to hold. Maddie’s talking, and he’s trying to listen to her soothing tone, but he can’t seem to focus. “A-And you’re the closest thing I ha-have to a mom, you know? An-And I just—”

“I’m on my way, okay? I’ll meet you at the firehouse. And we’ll go straight home.”

“Mhm.” He doesn’t trust himself with more words. His heart hurts and he really just wants his mom, and the fact that he can’t have that is just too painful. He ends the call and puts the phone down on the floor in front of him before he puts his head in his hands, trying to control his breathing.

He knows that this isn’t a panic attack. He’s had those before and he knows how to recognize the symptoms in himself.

He feels like a failure.
A man in his mid-twenties. 6’2”, 200 something pounds, a fire-fighter, sobbing like a child, wanting a hug from his mother. He hates that he’s judging himself, too, because if this were to happen to Chimney? To Hen? To Bobby or Eddie? Those thoughts wouldn’t even cross his mind. He would be by their side, comforting them to the best of his abilities.

-

It doesn’t take long before there are footsteps coming towards him. If he’s honest, Buck had expected someone to barge back in immediately after Chimney had left, knowing that Chimney had probably gone to get someone.
He’s surprised that it’s Hen, though. His money would’ve been on Bobby.

“Hey Roo,” Hen coos, “What’re you doing on the floor?”

“Dropped a penny?” Buck replies, laughing wetly as Hen sits next to him. He sniffles a bit and leans into her when she puts her arm over his shoulders. “Maddie’s coming to pick me up.”

“Did something happen?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “No… I just…I want…” Thinking about it again makes the tears come back and before he knows it, Hen’s hugging him tightly. “I really want my mom,” he says quietly, and he feels like he’s 5 all over again. She’s whispering words to him but he can’t hear them over his cries.

He feels pathetic, for wanting his mom, someone that never wanted him, but he can’t help it.

It takes about twenty minutes before Maddie is speed-walking down the hallway, Chimney hanging back at the other end, presumably having guided her. She helps him up off the floor (and thank God, honestly, his butt was actually going numb) and goes with him to gather his things. He doesn't even think about going to Bobby to tell him he needs to go early, figures someone has either already told him or they will. He just lets his sister crowd him into the car and takes a deep breath. The crying’s stopped, but he feels drained.

Maddie, bless her, for once, doesn’t immediately ask questions. She brings him back to her place, hands him a towel and ushers him towards the master bathroom.
He washes the— whatever that episode was off of his skin, relishing the feeling of the hot water.

He’s okay.
He’s okay.

He’s okay, even though three hours later, he starts crying again while he’s cleaning.

The difference is that this time, it just… Happens. He doesn’t feel distraught, he doesn’t feel anguish, he’s just crying without any apparent trigger. He didn’t spill any water, there’s no mess, he wasn’t thinking about anything specific, nothing. It only stops when Maddie puts on a compilation of bloopers from Supernatural from season one to whatever season’s the most recent. It warms his heart that she remembers how he’d obsessed over that show when it came out.

“Of course I remember,” Maddie says when he points it out. She’s gently scratching at his scalp where his head is resting on her lap, his long legs folded awkwardly to fit on her couch. “You wouldn’t shut up about Jensen Ackles for all of– you know what? No, you still won’t shut up about Jensen Ackles.”

“He’s hot! Have you seen him?!” (His attraction to the main characters really should’ve clued him in sooner to his bi-sexuality, but that was something he’d tabbed for later.)

“Yes, Evan.” She pats his cheeks with a warm cloth, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I’ve seen him.”

He stays with his sister for a few days, Chimney voluntarily taking the loft in the meantime. Eddie comes over for dinner, and brings him his things, too. He misses him dearly, but Buck needs to be with his sister right now, and Eddie understands that.
Per Bobby’s suggestion, Buck also takes those days off of work. He’s not sure what more he can do, except rest, but one thing’s for sure: an emergency session with Dr. Copeland to debrief what he’s going through and feeling is necessary.

It’s weird, everything he’s feeling.
The confronting emotions that are bubbling inside of him are loud and messy.
There’s happy, there’s sad. There’s angry, there’s empty– They switch out at any time of day, and it has Buck feeling exhausted and lost. He’s always been a bit on the emotional side, but never this intensely.

He’s never been excited for the day one minute, and wondering what would happen if he swerved head on into traffic the next. It’s conflicting, to say the least. And it’s starting to scare him. He doesn’t think he has darkthoughts, he’s not thinking of hurting himself, but the thoughts are some shade of grey and they don’t feel right when he has them.

“Buck,” Dr. Copeland starts, and the tone she uses has him shifting on the dining room chair he’s sitting on. He knows this tone, he knows that she’s going to ask him either something he won’t like or something he doesn’t have an answer to– maybe both at once. “You don’t have to decide now, but I would like to refer you to a psychiatrist I know who specialises in attention deficits and hyperactivity disorder.”

“I–” Okay, so he hadn’t expected that. They had been talking about depression and anxiety, and sure he’s wondered on and off over the years if he had ADHD, but he’d never entertained the thought. He’d been a good student, a great one even in most classes. He struggled to sit in class, sure, but he’d put that down to him being too tall for the desks. Wasn’t ADHD just something parents said their kids had to excuse their behaviours? “What uh… what makes you think I have ADHD?”

“Well, I’m no expert on the subject, and that’s why I would refer you to a colleague, but you show many symptoms, Buck. From fidgeting on your chair, chewing at your nails, not looking at me when you talk… None of this is bad! I’m not upset with you and everything is okay, but with everything happening in your life recently, your brother, your parents, the factory fire… I think you’re experiencing an episode of some sorts.”

“Oh.”

“These can be triggered by traumatic events–”

Buck snorts at that and leans back, “I’ve experienced plenty of those. So why would it trigger now?”

“The brain is a mysterious thing, Buck. There’s no way to tell why it’s happening now and not during another event. Let’s think back to those experiences, shall we? Think back to when something happened and try to remember how you reacted. I have a feeling you’ve had other responses like this one, but you didn’t have the tools at your disposal to properly navigate through it.”

–

It’s not something he wanted to admit to, but he thinks that Dr. Copeland may be right.
They went through a handful of events of his past and yeah, okay, he’s definitely been like this in the past. He supposes that he would’ve figured it out sooner if he’d had her in his corner. If he hadn’t been alone back then.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Maddie’s out for the evening and he decides to turn to his friend The Internet to study up more on ADHD in adults. What he finds both surprises him and makes him feel seen in a way that’s never happened before. He had no idea the scope of the symptoms was so large, that when it got really bad, it could be mistaken for depression. That it messed with emotions and thoughts.

It makes sense, now that he thinks about it.

His hobby graveyard at the loft, where his yarn, crochet hooks, knitting needles, markers, watercolours, and sketchbook hide. How messy his loft is, how he struggles to not space out if something isn’t interesting to him, how he does so much at the same time– He likes how he is, he really does, and there’s nothing wrong with how he is (something Dr. Copeland made him repeat a few times, and then a few more for good measure) but he’s glad to have a word to put on it.

Finally.

He’s glad that he can get better. Hopes that he can.

-

“I’ve been thinking…” He picks at the label from his water bottle, not trusting himself to look at Maddie, not just yet.

He decided to talk to her about this first; she’s known him the longest, she’s seen him at his lowest and his highest through different stages in his life. He wants her to be part of this. It seems fitting.

It’s been a week since his call with Dr. Copeland and he’s been in contact with the new clinic to set up the appointment and get the ball rolling. They sent him assessment documents, which he promptly filled out– he just needs to be brave for the next couple of steps.

“Well…” Why is his heart racing? This isn’t anything bad, it’s not like she can be disappointed, right? She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push him to talk, and he’s grateful for that.

“I um… have an appointment.”

“Not with a lawyer again, I hope?”

There’s a smile in her voice that makes him chuckle too, a small weight is lifted from his lungs just with that. “No… nothing like that. I uh… Have an appointment with a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist? Like Dr. Copland?”

“Uh no, Dr. Copland is a psychologist, she’s there to help with treatments and psychotherapies… I um… She gave me the contact information of another doctor for a consult. Dr. Kamat is a mental health and mental disorders specialist.”

“Buck,” Maddie says, and it’s quiet. She moves to sit next to him on the couch and places a hand on his forearm. “Is everything okay?”

“My brain,” Buck replies, and he brings his free hand to the side of his head, gesturing to it as he’s trying to find the words. Outside of therapy, he’s never really talked about this with anyone. “Feels like it’s one big smear. A stain— I don’t know how to explain it well enough to do it justice. It feels rough, it feels blurry, but really static. It feels… Not like myself. Like there’s so much more going on that I’m not in charge of.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

He shrugs, and goes back to picking at his water bottle, anything to keep his hands busy. “Honestly, Maddie, probably since I was nine or ten.” He feels her shift on the couch but she doesn’t speak. “It’s not always like this, really. Sometimes it feels like sparks— the good kind. Sometimes, I'm really happy and it feels like my head is bubbling, but these days… I don’t know. It’s been blurry and static more often than bubbly and I'm tired. I know we’ve thrown it around a lot as a joke over the years, but I’m gonna see if I can get an ADHD diagnosis. I’ve been Googling, and I really see myself in the symptoms, you know? I used to think it was just for kids, that it was just an excuse for bad behaviour but... Restless, hyperfixation, impulsivity,” he snorts at that one. “Mood swings, sleep related stuff, sex related stuff— God, Maddie the list goes on. Anyways— I’m telling you because the clinic sent me documents to fill out for the assessment. I have to fill a version, a parent has to do one for the childhood stuff, and someone I'm really close to who knows me well.” He reaches for the envelope that has been sitting on the table since he’s come home with the freshly printed documents, and he hands it to her.

She takes it, opens it, and he watches her face as she scans over it, trying to figure out what she’s thinking. “I want you to fill the parent version of it,” he specifies before she can ask, and her eyes immediately find his, wide with surprise. He figures she either expected to have to fill the version of someone that’s close or that he was just showing her the documents. “I don’t want to call mom and dad, I don’t want to talk to them. You raised me, not them. You know how I was as a kid. They uh, they also need like, family medical history but I—”

“I’ll call mom and dad, I’ll… I'll tell them it’s for the pregnancy or something. I’ll make something up, they won’t know it’s for this, I’ll make sure you don’t have to talk to them.”

“Thanks, Maddie.”

In lieu of a reply, she moves the hand she had on his arm to put it around his head and leans in to kiss his birthmark like she’s done countless times before. Buck’s always felt safe here, in her arms. When the world is uncertain or scary, she makes it feel better. Makes him feel better.

“I’m proud of you, you know? For taking the initiative to do this.”

He feels a warm blush creep up his neck and he burrows deeper into her arms, chasing the comfort. “Dr. Copeland brought it up and I was really reluctant at first, actually.”

“What changed?”

“I was reading the Percy Jackson series with Chris and… I don’t know. Something clicked. There’s mention of his ADHD and I recognized myself from when I was a kid. So I started to do some research on adult ADHD, went to get some books at the library, and it kinda took my breath away? In a way that it feels like I’m figuring out why I’m the way that I am.” He pulls away and finds that Maddie is smiling, her eyes a little bit teary as her hand moves to his curls. “Eddie… he uh, he helped me a lot. He’s filling out the close friend version. And I uh… do you think I should ask Bobby to fill one? Just in case? Not as my boss but as…”

“As your pseudo-dad?” Maddie supplies, and he supposes that that’s right. “He’s seen you at your best and at your worst, Buck. I think it’s a great idea. The fact that he knows how you are at work is even better, in my opinion.”

“What if he thinks I’m not suitable for work because of this?”

“Evan,” Her tone is calm and she’s smiling, but his heart feels too big for his chest. “The only thing that’s going to change is that you’re going to have an official diagnosis. You’re still you, okay? You were fit to work before this, you’ll be fit to work after this.” He nods and she kisses his head again. “When do you need this for?”

“Uh, my appointment is in three weeks. I wanted to give everyone enough time.”

“That’s pretty reasonable, Buck,” Maddie says. “Gives you time to go through them too.”

“Mm… I guess so, yeah.”

–

Telling Eddie about this whole thing is nerve-wracking; more so than he had expected. He gets to Eddie’s a few hours before Eddie’s shift ends and literally nothing he does catches his focus.
He tries to get a head-start on his own assessment but even the prospect of checking boxes on a list isn’t enough to distract him.

So he gets to cleaning.

He puts his AirPods in, and cleans. The sheets off of both beds, the baseboards, the cupboards– anything he can put his hands on, he cleans.

“Buck?”

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Why won’t the plate shine like he wants it to?

“Buck!”

He jumps when a hand touches his shoulder and he turns on the spot, now face-to-face with a bewildered looking Eddie. “Eddie! Welcome home!”

“Buck, did a bomb go off here?! Did we get robbed?!”

“What do you mean?” Eddie does a slow 360, his arms extended to– well, the kitchen, and Buck’s mind slowly catches up as he takes in the state of the room. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I uh…” He sighs, drying his hands on his jeans as he sits at the table. “I talked to Maddie today… You know how Dr. Copeland referred me to Dr. Kamat for an ADHD assessment?" Eddie, bless him, simply nods and sits by him. Their feet knock against each other under the table, a quiet gesture that Buck appreciates. “Well… my appointment is in three weeks, and they sent me papers to fill out. Maddie’s filling a few forms as the parental figure I had growing up, I’m doing a version and I, uh… I was hoping you would fill one?”

“Me?”

He nods, not quite meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Mm. I need someone close to me to do one, but from the perspective of a close friend, a partner, you know. Someone close to me, but that’s not family.”

“Buck,” Eddie’s hand squeezes his. “Of course I’ll fill it. Is this it?” When he looks up, Eddie has a manila envelope in his free hand. “When do you need it for?”

“Three weeks? Is that enough time?”

Eddie brings Buck’s hand up to his lips and gives it a long kiss. “Leave it to me. And…” He looks around again, “Help me put the plates back in the cupboards?”

At that, Buck huffs out a laugh. “I… Yeah. Okay, that’s fair. I’m– Sorry, Eddie. I don’t know what got over me, really. I started with the laundry and, yeah. This happened.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ve got this.

–

He asks to speak with Bobby at the start of his shift the next day. Bobby looks a little bit concerned, and Buck guesses that Bobby might be worried that he’ll quit– he can almost see the anxiety leave Bobby’s shoulders when he reads the documents that Buck presents him.

And if they hug and shed a few tears after their talk? Well that’s between them.

No one mentions what happened, no one asks him if he’s okay– He’s spoken with Hen and Chim, anyways, so they know how he’s been and how he’s apprehensive about his return to work. The others? Either they don’t know, or they’re respecting his peace.

Everything feels… normal. Or so to speak. He’s not okay, far from it, but the normalcy of work helps.
The day draws out qu– calmly. Just a few calls, like the universe knows not to push his buttons today. Hen and Chim restock the ambulance, Eddie helps Buck with the restocking of the truck, and then: the new probie from B-Shift (Ravi, he thinks) says the godforsaken Q-Word and curses the rest of the shift. Honestly. If Buck hadn’t already had a breakdown recently, he probably would’ve had one today.

At the end of the day, it’s not too horrible. Well, it is. It’s pretty bad, but his family is at his side.

Plus. He has a new distraction: Train the new probie in the art of everything.

–

Buck knows he shouldn’t— that it’s not a good idea.
He shouldn’t look at everyone’s filled forms. Nothing good can come from this— but he wants to see how they perceive him.

IThe forms are all in front of him, set on his kitchen island. He should just put them in an envelope and go downstairs at his building's office to ask to have them scanned. He shouldn’t…

But… His fingers inch towards them.

He grabs Maddie’s first and holds his breath. His own form is near; it’s easy to compare. He knows he’s always had self-esteem issues but this… is eye-opening, to say the least.
While Dr. Copeland isn’t with him throughout the assessment process, he has talked with her about the forms and is concerned he won’t be writing the right things.

“There is no right answer, Buck,” she had said a few weeks ago. “These questions don’t have an absolute answer that is right or wrong. Try not to worry about what you’re putting down, focus on being honest with yourself, even if it’s hard. Even if it’s scary.”

The forms themselves hadn’t been intimidating, at first glance. Questions separated into different sections, with little boxes to check depending on how he felt according to the question. Easy! It looks like a checklist, that’s his sort of thing!
Except when he really started to go through them, his heart had clenched in his chest.

Questions on work, family, school, skills… It seemed to go on and on. How did he perceive himself? He’d never really stopped to think about it, always defaulted into comparing himself, instead.

Where he had put twos and threes on the scale of ‘never to very often’ in regards to questions about family, Maddie’d put zeros and ones.

‘Having problems with family’ and ‘Makes it hard for the family to have fun together’ he put a solid ‘Very Much’ whereas she put ‘Never or not at all’ — He’d always seen himself as a problem for his family, did she really not see it like this? She wouldn’t lie on a medical document. Would she? She did put an ‘often’ at ‘Problems losing control with family’ and… yeah, while it stings, it’s the truth. He doesn’t remember the last time he sat with his parents without there being an argument at some point.

The work part she skipped, as he’d expected, and when it comes to the school aspect, he finds himself snorting. They gave exactly the same responses. Good to know that his perception of how he was as a student was exactly what he was exuding. He wasn’t a good note taker, he hated assignments and he was always last minute. He couldn’t sit quietly for very long, he couldn’t focus when he was bored…

God he doesn’t miss it.

In terms of life skills… he’s surprised by her answers and grabs Eddie's document to compare immediately. Whereas he put answers that were either ‘sometimes or somewhat’, they put a lot of ‘often’ or ‘very often’. Since when did he excessively use the internet? He grabs his phone for good measure and opens Google Chrome to check— ok so he has 72 tabs open… does this mean his deep-dive research counts as excessive?

Problems getting to bed, problems with sleeping— he blames the schedules on that! Problems with sex? Maybe Buck 1.0, he’s doing much better now, thank you very much. But he grabs his document to note that down, figures that mentioning it at his appointment might be a good idea. Getting hurt or injured? It’s part of the job!

The part that hurts the most, though, is the section on self-concept. He knows how he views himself, his family knows too, but somehow, seeing it reflected here… his heart clenches and tears well up in his eyes. Seeing it on paper, black on white… He puts the documents down and takes a deep breath.

• Feeling bad about yourself
• Feeling frustrated with yourself
• Feeling discouraged
• Not feeling happy with your life
• Feeling incompetent

His own answers drifted more towards the often or much or the sometimes or somewhat choices, but Eddie’s… Eddie’s put Xs in the often or much column for most, as well as Xs in the very much or very often boxes for some.
Buck doesn’t know what to do with this knowledge. Part of him regrets looking, the other part wants to scream and tear the documents up.

He knows that Eddie wouldn’t lie, that this is Eddie’s perception. Hell, Maddie’s version is pretty similar, too. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that Eddie and Maddie copied (badly) off of each other with how similarly they responded.

—

“What’s going through your mind, Buck?” Dr. Kamat asks, putting her pen down on her desk.

“Everything? Nothing? It’s uh… overwhelming.”

This is his second appointment with her and she’s already confirmed what he already knew: that he does in fact have ADHD, but that it goes deeper than that. That there’s so many variations and it’s about learning more about himself and figuring out what works, what doesn’t, and how to manage it.

“Talk me through it, what feels overwhelming? Take your time.”

“Figuring it out this late in life,” Buck replies after a few moments of silence. “Being annoyed about figuring this out late in life. I… I remember some teachers telling me about it, when I was in high school. A-And I brought it up with my parents but they dismissed it. Said I just needed to focus, that I needed to try harder. They never listened to me when I was a kid.”

“And now?”

He snorts and leans back on the chair, “We’re better, but only because of the whole Daniel thing I told you about last time… Now that that’s in the air, they agreed to try therapy. We’ve had one session. It was…” He sighs, “They’re my parents, but they’re not the people I go to. Maddie— my uh, my big sister, she’s the one that raised me.”

“Right, she’s the one that filled one of your documents,” Dr. Kamat says, and she’s looking through her papers to find it. “Buck, we’ve gone through all of these in excruciating detail and I think that we both have a good idea of how you’re feeling. I think you have a combination type ADHD.”

“O-ok.” His heart races a little bit and he leans in when she pushes a document towards him. There are a few lines highlighted in yellow. “Is that what my forms show?” He looks up at her and when she shakes her head, he frowns. What was the whole point if—

“Your forms confirm it, yes, but talking to you is how we get the diagnosis.”

“By… talking to me? We haven’t really talked that much. Is it that obvious?”

“Well… I can see that you’re restless, Buck. You’ve changed position on that chair at least 15 times, you’re picking at your nail polish, and you struggle to maintain eye contact.”

“Oh, shit,” he looks down at his nails. The pink and blue polish that he had put on with Maddie to test the colours is ruined. “I didn’t even notice.”

“And that’s okay, it’s perfectly normal. You’re fidgeting, it gives you something to do while you’re listening. It’s common with ADHD but it’s also a sign of hyperactivity, which you mentioned you felt like you were? Hyperactive, that is.”

He nods and absentmindedly brings his thumb up to his mouth to nip at the skin by his nail. “Yeah. I always feel so restless in my body, even when I'm bone-tired after a shift. It makes me feel like a bomb that’s going to go off. But then… other days I just want to stay in bed all day and not move. So am I really hyperactive?”

“This is where the combination type comes in. There’s no one way to have ADHD, Buck. Not everyone has the same behaviours. And we’re going to go through these together, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

Buck feels a little bit more settled. Dr. Kamat suggested both medication and behavioural therapy with her, which he agreed to start immediately. He feels safe with her; she reminds him of Athena, somehow. In the tone of her voice and the way she carries herself. He also agrees to try medication— while after a month of therapy, the black smudge in his brain feels less like static, it’s still very prominent and he’s exhausted. He knows how mental health and long-term medication works; he’s done his research, but her explaining it helped.
His body wasn’t secreting the hormones his brain needed and this medication would compensate for that. Like the medication people would take for thyroid problems, heart diseases, hypertension… The list went on. It wasn’t because it was for mental health that it made him weak for needing it.

He’s never judged anyone for taking medication for their mental health; he wouldn’t think that of others, so why is it so hard to think of himself that way, too? To show himself the kindness he would show others?

The first one he tries is Adderall. It hits him like a truck. They start the dose low and even with that he feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin. Dr. Kamat explains that he needs to take it at least a month to see effects properly reflected but the side effects are piling on and he doesn’t know what to do with himself until he’s throwing up at work, Eddie next to him, rubbing his back through it, and Chimney putting a cold cloth on his neck.

“Let it all out, Buckaroo,” Chimney says, even though Buck can barely hear him past the static in his ears and the echo of the toilet bowl. “Heart rate is up,” Chim adds– When did he even get his heartrate? How? “Is this the first time he’s thrown up?”

“No, he threw up two days ago,” Eddie supplies, and Buck’s thankful that he’s there. He’s been staying with Eddie more these days and while he wishes he was healthier so that this progression in their relationship was a happier one, he’s glad that he’s not going home to his loft most nights. “He’s been staying at my place so I can monitor the side effects. Throwing up and lots of mood swings. We downloaded an app to keep track.”

“Safe to say, Buck, I don’t think adderall is for you,” Chimney says with a tsk and Buck groans.

He spits into the toilet and reaches up to flush it before taking the cold cloth to wipe his face from the sick and sweat, “Is Bobby mad?” His voice sounds almost foreign to his ears– he sounds so… small.

“Mad?” Eddie repeats, and Buck nods. “Of course not, Buck. He’s been worried, though. But we knew there were chances of side effects.” Eddie threads his fingers through Buck’s hair and he leans into the touch a bit. He’s 99.9% sure his scalp is sopping wet with sweat, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. “How’s your stomach?”

Buck shrugs, “Honestly? No clue. I’ve been feeling nauseated all morning but I’ve barely been able to eat. Forcing myself to eat for the meds. I’ll call Dr. Kamat after I’ve slept this off.”

-

After weaning himself off of Adderall, Buck feels both better and worse. Better because he’s eating again, worse because he’s not sleeping and the smudge is bigger than ever, and his mood app is full of negative emotions. When Dr. Kamat suggests another strain of medication he does a deeper dive into the side-effects. He knows that it’s normal, to some extent, that his body has to get used to it, but he feels unsettled at the thought of it all.

The second medication he tries is Concerta.
After three weeks, he’s sure that he’s found the right one— he doesn’t have any side effects.
Well, or so he thought.

He gets to the firehouse one morning, Eddie a step behind him, he finds that everyone else from his team is already there. Usually he’s the first one there and helps Bobby with breakfast but today they’re already all at the table. His steps falter a little bit when the conversation dies down and he suddenly feels like it’s about him. “H-Hey, guys… What’s up?”

“Want a coffee, Buck?” Hen asks, and she hands him a mug.

“Good morning, Buck!” Chimney adds, and the unsettling feeling in his chest doesn’t leave.

“What happened? Did someone die?” He looks over the table: everyone is there. “Did someone get hurt?”

“We wanted to talk to you, Buck,” Bobby says, and Buck sees his Captain’s face change immediately. “Oh! No, don’t worry! It’s nothing bad, you’re not in trouble! Sit down, son.”

Buck nods slowly and takes the chair Eddie’s just pulled. Once he’s sat, Eddie sits as well and places a hand on his, giving it a small squeeze. He’s sure that it’s meant to be reassuring but Buck’s considering jumping over the loft’s railing and running out. “The team just wanted to check in on you with your new medication.”

“Oh… it’s been good, actually,” Buck replies honestly. “I haven’t been nauseated at all this time, nothing to write home about.”

“Do you think you’ve been having other side effects?” Chimney asks from across the table, and Buck notices how his friend is wringing his hands, like he usually does when he’s holding back. Especially when he has a secret he can’t tell them. (Which he usually ends up sharing at some point during the day.)

“I uh… don’t think so, no? Why? Do you guys think there’s more?” They all look at each other and Buck feels Eddie’s fingers curl on his hand. “I’m gonna take that as a yes?”

“You’ve been… qu– calm…” Hen says. “In a way that you space out often and you’re engaging less.”

“Isn’t that what the medication is supposed to do? Calm me down?”

“Not to this extent, no,” Hen replies, and from across the table, she reaches out to take his other hand. “Buck you haven’t done a deep-dive on anything in the last week and a half. While yes, hyper fixating on things might be a behaviour related to ADHD, it’s also part of who you are.” Buck nods along and he thinks back to the last two weeks, really thinks back.

“I’ve been tired, I think? I don’t have much energy other than for work. But I thought it was normal, treating the hyperactivity.”

“You’ve been a bit disoriented, too,” Eddie remarks. “Sometimes you’re just standing there, staring into nothing. And you’re forgetting more things, except you don’t realize that you’ve forgotten.”

Buck sighs and Hen squeezes his hand. “Damn it, I really thought this one worked. My brain— the smudge felt better.”

“The smudge?”

Buck gestures to his head with the hand Hen just let go, “It’s what I call it with my therapist… How I feel. Recently, brain’s felt like a smudge that’s full of static, but on this medication, the static was dull and… kinda calmer? But…” He sighs and pulls his other hand free from Eddie’s so he can put his head in them. “I guess I haven’t felt the sparks, either. Dr. Kamat said medication would help find a middle ground so that I would have sparks…” He doesn’t really expect them to understand the analogy he came up with to explain, and he really hopes they won’t ask him to explain. Not today, at least. “I thought it would settle after almost a month, but I suppose I should call Dr. Kamat to talk to her about changing… again.”

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie says, and it takes a hand on his shoulder for Buck to raise his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “You got this, okay? And we got you, too.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck replies, and he leans his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, giving Hen and Chimney a sad smile. “I’m glad I have you all. This sucks.”

“Hey, that’s what family’s for,” Bobby replies. “You’ll get there, Buck.”

-

Dr. Kamat instructs him to wean off of Concerta over the next week– he didn’t think he’d see a difference but after his last micro-dose of it, he opens his mood app to track his day and he notices that there’s more green than yellows and greys. That’s a win, right? He might not feel it actively, he’s not feeling any specific joy, but he supposes that his days have felt a bit brighter.
Well, if you exclude his pressure dropping out of nowhere in the middle of the day when he’s literally just walking at the grocery store. Maddie says that’s normal…ish… that it’s just his body re-adjusting, but just to be sure it doesn’t happen when he’s in the middle of a call, Bobby makes him man behind for a few days.

He’s pissed, and everyone can tell, but they understand him, too. He understands the decision as well, he wouldn’t want to be a liability and he can’t predict when he’ll get a dizzy spell.
He hasn’t fainted, and he doesn’t think it’ll happen, but he doesn’t want to take any risks, either. He just hopes that this isn’t going to be a bigger problem in the long run; he doesn’t want to lose his job.

-

His first week on Strattera makes him consider quitting medication altogether; makes him wonder if he’s just never going to find something that’s suited to him.
He feels sick.

All. The. Time.

He makes it a point to eat before taking his medication, just like instructed, but he feels so ill that the rest of the day, the only thing he can stomach is meal replacement shakes, which, ugh. They’re OK when he’s in a pinch, but for a full week it’s annoying.

It happened once: he’s at brunch with Eddie and Christopher. They put in their order and Buck, knowing that the service is usually quick, takes his meds before having actually had anything to eat.
It’s fine, he’s done this before. He’ll take the pill and eat immediately after.

Except, the food gets delayed for some reason and half an hour later, the medication’s had time to sit in his empty-ish stomach, and when his plate finally arrives, the idea of it makes him want to throw up.
He hates feeling like this– it’s almost worse than actually throwing up. At least he wouldn’t be wondering if it would happen. Now he knows it’s not going to happen and it’s just going to be the feeling of it that sits under his tongue and at the back of his throat.

“Buck, d’you want one of my potatoes?” Chris asks, and Buck can tell by the look on his face that he’s a bit worried.
He’s explained to Chris what’s been going on, that he’s going through trial and error for a few different meds, but Chris seems to worry about him. It’s sweet, but Buck wishes that Chris didn’t have to see him like this.

“I’m good, bud, thanks. I’ll uh… have something later.” He pulls at the placemat slightly, and it rips where it’s weakened because of his un-touched glass of water that’s been sweating since it’s been placed down.
Ah. Great. The placemat is decomposing, now he won’t be able to stop tearing at it. Great. Lovely. Just amazing.

“Hey.”
Eddie’s hand is on his in an instant, their fingers intertwining, and Buck looks up to meet his eyes. There’s a small smile on Eddie’s face, one that Buck tries to mimic, but he doesn’t have the energy to do it. Not in front of Eddie, at least. He’s never not been himself in front of Eddie.
“Let’s just get this to go and go home, okay?”

“I– But– Eddie…”

“It’s okay, Buck,” Eddie says, and he uses that soft voice that Buck knows is genuine. The one that means everything is going to be okay. Buck slumps slightly in his chair and picks at the placemat while Eddie flags the waitress down.

It was the one and only time he’s taken medication on an empty stomach. Now, he never leaves the house without one or two granola bars in his bags or pockets.

After the first week, his stomach seems to settle a bit.
His appetite isn’t all there, but he’s eating healthy amounts and three meals a day.

His mood app seems to portray him as a little bit more regular, and Eddie’s perception of his mood is more or less the same. Eddie’s a bit more peculiar about the details of Buck’s mood swings, whereas Buck chooses to ignore them sometimes.

By week two, he notices randomly that his side of the room is tidy. He doesn’t know when or how it happened, but there aren’t any clothes laying around and he knows for a fact that Eddie didn’t pick up after him and that the laundry fairy isn’t real.

When week three arrives and no one holds an intervention, Buck thinks that they might have a winner with Straterra.
Dr. Kamat is pleased with his progress, he’s pleased with his progress, which, according to her, is what’s most important. That he’s comfortable.

There’s that one random week where it almost all goes back to hell when they up his meds to see if it would be better– it’s not– but it settles back once he returns to the original dosage.

The static in his head is mostly gone, only showing up when he has a rough day with work or otherwise, but it’s not just there anymore. He’s sleeping better, he’s back at the gym on his regular schedule, and he’s actually stuck to a hobby for a whole month, now. A month!

Eddie officially asks him to move in, he’s gone no-contact with his parents after they didn’t show up to therapy... again, and Chris made him an amazing drawing of the three of them.

Everything is good.

Chapter Text

“I’m telling you! The Cars universe makes no sense!”

“Oh boy,” Chimney sighs, and from where he’s sitting in the front, Bobby turns slightly to watch the upcoming show. “Here he goes again.”

“Here what goes again?” Ravi asks, looking between them all.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hen says, but Bobby has a feeling that Ravi will in fact, worry. He’s been fitting in well, but he’s not ready for any of this.

“Chim, I’m serious,” Buck says, and he’s already enthusiastically talking with his hands. “I just watched the movies with Chris, yeah? We did a Cars movie marathon? And none of it makes sense! They’re Cars, but in the real world.”

“Yes, Buck,” Hen deadpans from across from him. “We’re all aware of the movie named Cars having cars.”

Buck’s exasperation is loud in his headset; Bobby can’t help but smile. “You’re not getting it. There are no humans in that universe, but it’s still our history. One of the cars, Sarge, is literally a war vet– did the Cars fight a war?! How?! Why?! Are there car versions of every historical figure, good and bad?!”

“I tried to stop him,” Eddie says, but he’s grinning brighter than Bobby’s seen in a while. “I saw him open up Google during the third movie.”

Buck tsks, “Please. You said ‘Buck, are you Googling the movie’, to which I said: ‘Well yes, dear, I need to know if these cars have seats because what’s the point if there are no humans?’ And then you just shrugged and got me a beer.” The cabin is quiet, and it doesn’t even cross Bobby’s mind to interrupt this or change the subject. “Also! Planes! What’s the point of planes if there are no humans?! Did they replace us? Do planes transport smaller cars? Is it weird? Because technically, the cars are inside the planes, you know? And! There’s a car Pope! So there’s religion, too! This universe is insane.”

“Yeah,” Chimney says, and his gum pops loudly– Bobby’s asked him many times to stop chewing the damn things but to no avail. “That’s insane.”

“Hey!” He points an accusing finger at Chimney, “I’m medicated, now! Just! Who makes these cars?” Buck asks, clearly exasperated by these thoughts he’s voicing. “Are there cars who make cars? Do they know what they’re making? Are they sentient? Did they make machines? Are they adults when they’re made? Because we see some that seem younger in the movies– but does the year they were made matter? McQueen is a 2006 Chevrolet Monte Carlo– the movie came out in 2006, but McQueen’s been around!”

“Which came first, the car, or the engine?”

“See! Eddie gets it!”

“Sure. Eddie gets it,” Hen deadpans. Bobby has a feeling that as soon as they’re back at the firehouse, everyone except Eddie will flee the rest of Buck’s rant. Ravi might stick around, though… Maybe Bobby can save him by giving him an errand?
He glances out the window. Unfortunately for them, they still have 5 minutes to go.

“Would make sense,” Eddie starts, “You know, if the movie is set in the future and like, humans just built super smart cars that have AI or something. Which, incredibly terrifying thought, don’t get me wrong. But nothing’s really stopping us from re-making cars exactly how they used to be. So maybe McQueen is just a new model of an old car? Chris thinks that the Cars movies take place after the humans leave the planet in WALL-E, and before the events of WALL-E. That the greenery and life we see in the Cars movies just isn’t where WALL-E is… or that it all dies down before WALL-E.”

“Well Chimney thinks that this is an insane conversation, and Chimney hates that he’s thinking about all of this.”

At that, Bobby laughs.
The discussion goes on, and eventually, Hen is even roped in. She admits to having seen the movies with Denny and a comment Buck makes about how religion in the universe would maybe work seems to draw her in.

Once they’re back at the firehouse, the group indeed splits up. Some go to shower, while the others get started on a few chores that have to be done.
Bobby, for his part, gets started on breakfast, paperwork be damned.

Buck comes to join him a few minutes later, chewing on a granola bar, curls wet, almost dripping onto the counter, and Bobby can’t help but give him a gentle pat on the back, his hand lingering for just a bit longer than usual.
He seems settled. Comfortable, even. Not always ready to bolt at any given moment, and taking his time with things rather than trying to rush through them.

Bobby was scared for a moment there, when the medications weren’t working. Buck was getting depressed and while he was still an amazing firefighter, it’s how he was outside of that that was worrying– but he’s okay now.

He won’t say it outloud, and he’s pretty sure that the team is thinking it too, but Buck’s Cars rant in the truck earlier had been the first since his deep-dive on bananas a few months ago. Sure, Buck still Googled things, and he shared facts here and there, but a proper crash-out, as Chimney calls them, hadn’t happened until today.

They put a bit of music on, because Bobby knows that Buck likes it when the silence isn’t too loud, and before they know it, dinner is served.

“Where’s my cutlery?” Buck asks as he’s rummaging through the cutlery drawer. If it was anyone other than Buck, Bobby would remind them that it’s all shared, but they all know that Buck has his preferred utensils.
The team looks at each other, but no one says a thing.

“Sorry, Kid,” Bobby finally says, “No clue. Dishwasher, maybe?” Buck turns to check and the heavy sigh that comes out of him is enough of an indicator to tell that it’s not there.

“Ugh, gonna use the uncomfortable ones that feel weird,” Buck says with a grumble. There’s a bit more rummaging and finally, Buck goes over to the table and sits between Eddie and Hen, who both pat him on the shoulders. “We have more at home, right?” From where he’s standing, Bobby sees Eddie nod, and Buck seems to relax a bit. “Great. I might just hide them in my locker.” He stabs his chicken with his fork and just as he’s about to eat his bite, he stops. “Probie.”

Next to Bobby, Ravi jolts on his seat. Bobby’s not exactly sure why Ravi’s scared of Buck; Buck wouldn’t hurt a fly. Sure, Buck lowkey chased him with a chainsaw, but he didn’t mean anything bad with it.
“Y-Yes?”

“You have my cutlery.”

Both Hen and Chim lean closer to each other as they gasp dramatically. Eddie, on the other hand, just rolls his eyes and keeps eating.

To his credit, Buck doesn’t say or do anything. He does, however, glare at Ravi the whole time– Bobby makes a mental note to remind Buck to play nice when he next gets a chance.

–

They’re clearing up the table when three separate phone alarms go off. Bobby’s not sure why he’s surprised: this has been a daily occurrence at work for months now, but it still catches him off guard.
If anything, it reminds him that it’s 9am, and today, that means that their shift ends in half an hour.

Chimney, Hen, and Eddie dig into their pockets to fish out their phones and stop their alarms before all looking at Buck, who simply grins. “Already took my meds! Had a granola bar before helping with breakfast so I took them at 8 like I'm supposed to!”

To his right, Bobby notices Hen looking at her phone again and nodding to herself before she goes to the fridge and comes back with a white box. Had that been in there the whole time? When had she done this?

“It was hidden behind a few expired jars of something,” She explains, reading the look of confusion that’s on his face. He really spends too much time with these people. “Buckaroo, congratulations,” she says a bit loudly, getting everyone’s attention.

“What’s… that?” Buck asks, slowly approaching Hen and her mysterious box. “Is that… Cake? For me? It’s not my birthday… I don’t think–” he looks at Eddie, who purses his lips and shakes his head. “No. It’s not my birthday.”

“You, my friend, have not needed us to remind you to take your meds, nor have you missed one dosage, for a whole week!”

“And that is worth celebrating?" Chimney asks, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Buck scoffs, “He doesn’t get any cake. Thank you, Hen. This is a weird, but lovely gesture.”

Bobby shakes his head as he watches them bicker.
His family sure is one of a kind.

One thing’s for sure: any occasion is good for cake.