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"There's our golden retriever!" Hen called out happily. Buck instantly felt his grin turn a little bit plastic and he could only hope nobody teased him for stumbling when he tried to overcorrect when his step faltered slightly. He didn't know why he reacted like this.
("Bitch." A voice hissed in his ear.)
Or maybe he did. He pushed the bad memory away and quickly hugged Hen before rushing to the locker room. "It's still 15 min before shift starts!" She laughed at him. "I want coffee!" He yelled back.
Coffee would be a good idea. The warmth of the mug, the bitterness of coffee 'black, no milk, no sugar' might keep him here instead of out of sync with time and reality.
He bounded up the stairs with his attention laser-focused on the coffee pot. "Yep, there's our puppy bouncing around." Bobby smiled at him from the stove. "How do you want your eggs?"
Buck made a big production of finding just the right mug. Not the golden retriever one. "Softly scrambled." It's his comfort food and by the way his captain shot him a concerned look, he knew. "Nightmares." The younger firefighter mumbled.
It was a lie. He'd slept great after being pegged for hours by a beautiful woman. Not that he would ever disclose that. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that Abby had reformed his 'whorish ways' and he was very determined to keep it that way. Lesson definitely learned.
He took his full plate and mug to the table where some of their crew were already eating and sat down with a sigh. He knew he was expected to whine about wanting a station dog and then Chimney would retort that they already had a Buck and they didn't need another dog. Cue laughter.
But... not today, Satan, not today.
---
It bugged him, the dog comments and not just because of the flashback. Something didn't sit right. This was definitely Dr. Copeland's fault. He was glad he told Abby about Dr. Wells and that she encouraged him to try therapy through FaceTime or something similar. And that he had such a good experience with a military psychologist in the past. He could do without the legal issues surrounding the whole Wells thing, but his actual therapist was great.
Only, of course, you start pulling on that loose little thread and then whole knots come up that need to be untangled. Obviously. Because what else is new?
And now he tried to be in tune with his feelings -because they are valid and might point out things he wouldn't otherwise notice- only they were about as clear as mud.
He sighed and softly knocked his head against the wall of the cabin. They were on the way back from a car accident that required a Halligan, but no actual medical attention. The whole shift had been like that. Enough calls to be exciting, but never any loss and not even serious injury or severe mental trauma. A broken arm was the worst of it. He loved shifts like this. Usually. But today, well... He couldn't stop worrying at that tangle of emotions like a loose tooth. "Still bitchy?" Chimney asked with a laugh.
("Bitch." A voice hissed in his ear.)
He pushed the memory away as easy as swiping left on Tinder. He ignored Bobby's worried look, Chim's placating gesture at Eddie (that must have been quite the death glare) and the glances the rest of the team shot at each other. He sank a bit more of his weight unto the shoulder pressed against his. With a quick look and a quirk of his lips, he thanked his best friend. "My place after shift?" Eddie asked with soft, soft eyes. He nodded and looked out the window.
He decided to let go of that little knot of complex feelings. In the bunkroom with a note-taking app on his phone, he might try again. Otherwise, Dr. Copeland would help. Worrying at it now, though, wouldn't do anything. Time to think about something else.
"Hey Cap, what are we having for dinner, 'cause I'm hungry!"
If the resulting laughter had a relieved edge, it was nice. It told him people did care and that felt good.
---
"So..." Eddie said with an inquiring brow. They had arrived at the man's home just in time to give Chris a hug before the boy was off to school and they were now slumped on the couch with a bottle of beer each. Buck took a few gulps while frowning into the distance. He hadn't made much progress, so talking might help?
"It's like this..." He scrunched his eyebrows at the coffee table. "I don't like to be called a, a... dog." He chanced a quick look at Eddie who was watching him with an open expression. "Or, or a golden retriever, or puppy or whatever. And it's not... I mean, yeah, there is trauma involved." He made a gesture with his beer bottle, trying to encompass... That.
("Bitch." A voice hissed in his ear.)
He ignored the flashback and pushed on. "But the trauma is the obvious reason. Like a red herring? And I know if I say something about it being a trigger, people would not do it anymore. Which is fine, really, but then all the underlying things would still all be there. And then it would be even more difficult to try and find out what is bothering me, you know?"
It didn't really make sense and yet, somehow, it did. He sighed loudly and turned himself towards Eddie. The older man nodded at him with a contemplative look. "Yeah, it's like how two people can say the same word, like limitations, and mean completely different things because there is a subtext that is definitely not the same."
"Oh my god, that's it, that's it!" Buck felt as if a lightbulb might have literally turned on above his head. It felt like an epiphany. (And yes, Chimney, he did know what that word meant.) "The subtext is different, that must be it!" He melted into the couch in relief at finally having found the beginning of a thread that would unravel it all.
"I was called pup or kid at the SEALs, but I never minded. I was really young of course," He waved a hand negligently at that. "But there is just something different in the subtext. Something that feels like friction now." He rolled his head towards Eddie, who was looking a little bemused. "You were nicknamed during training? A kind nickname." He amended.
Ah, right, that. That thing where everybody thought he flunked out and he let them believe it, because it was easier. The weirdest thing being that his captain believed it too, despite knowing he was in the reserves and adjusting Buck's schedule accordingly. A lot of people react oddly when they find out you are a SEAL, his former teammates can attest to that, but their reactions get turned up a notch when they find out Buck is a SEAL. They either get really afraid of him, weirdly violent towards him, or they fall into utter disbelief and get aggressive when he pushes the issue. So he learned to let it go. His current team's collective blue screen of death and then disbelief had been one of the better outcomes. He'd frankly only told them about his SEAL training so they wouldn't be as dismissive of his skills even though he was a probie, but that hadn't worked out. He never told Eddie about it, but the rest apparently did, so here he was, looking at Eddie and wondering what he should say. Military types usually reacted better, though not always and again, Buck seemed to polarise responses.
Still, Eddie was his best friend and he'd served in the sandbox too. He even earned a Silver Star and you don't get those without dirtying your hands a little. He sat up and planted both of his feet on the ground before responding though, just in case. "Nah, my former team called me that, I served as a SEAL for years." The older firefighter blinked in confusion at him. "Then why..." He trailed off. The blond shrugged awkwardly. "People react weird. I talked about training to gauge their reactions and well... It was obvious that they weren't going to take it well, so." He fidgeted but kept his eyes on the brunette.
"That sucks man." Eddie said absently. "Kid, kinda sounds familiar."
Yeah, he was afraid of that. His best friend turned wide eyes on him. "You were part of the hell hounds?!" He hissed. Something in his face must have confirmed it. "Oh my god." Eddie stood up abruptly and stepped away from the couch and closer to the kitchen. Clearly, the rumours had reached the army too. Buck sat very, very still.
"One of my patients, you saved him. He was grateful but also scared of you. Called you killing machines. And you were the worst of all, looked like a kid, but dead inside." No good deed goes unpunished, huh.
He felt that deadness rise up, take over with each step his (former?) best friend took away from him and the horrified look that stole over his features. "I introduced you to my son." He muttered. Eddie made a warding off gesture while looking right past him. Keeping him in the corner of his eye without having to actually look. "I need... time. Please leave and... Stay away from Chris." He flicked a look over at that. Buck gave a single nod, stood up, walked around the couch on the side away from the other man and left.
The switch had flipped and it would take a while before it was flipped back. In the meantime he didn't feel sad about what happened. He would, when he was safe, but now he simply placed Eddie in the category of untrustworthy ally and civilian. As a civilian he required protection. As an untrustworthy ally they might need to work together, but Buck could never rely on him. In other words, he would watch Eddie's back, but Eddie would never watch his. Oh, after some thinking the older man might do an about-face. But this was Eddie's knee-jerk response, his gut reaction. And in situations where they were stripped to base instincts, this is what Eddie would always fall back on.
And just like that everything that had been blooming between them... withered.
---
Still, driving home in a SEAL mindset let him find a solution to the whole dog comments situation. He simply would need to collect data and then analyse it. Easy.
---
Their next shift was awkward. BuckandEddie now had personal space and they didn't really talk. He doubted the late night drop-in from the Navy to impress the importance of classified information and secrets on the older firefighter had really helped. It wasn't as if they had knocked on the door all politely. Waking up to a team of SEALs in your bedroom is a nightmare for everyone, let alone a traumatised veteran. But the information Eddie had stumbled upon was dangerous. He'd had to report it to his former command and they had taken it very seriously. Nobody could know who the hell hounds were, unless they had the clearance.
He felt guilty about it, but there was nothing he could do. He'd banged his head on his kitchen counter when he'd been informed, but he could understand their reasoning. Eddie had not reacted well to the revelation that Buck had been a SEAL. There were worse reactions, but fear could make people do strange things and they'd had to get in front of that. It was a gamble, because more fear could backfire, but on the other hand, the older man was trained military. Choices, choices. He was glad he didn't have to make them.
So, everything was different now and their teammates definitely noticed. Buck could only hope Eddie would keep to the cover story. He'd crafted it himself and it explained the awkwardness very neatly. Hell, it even explained it if he decided to transfer.
He eyed the brunette from a distance, but the man was, predictably, ignoring him. The past few hours had been hard on him. He could kick himself for revealing the truth, but on the other hand he would rather know. This was one reaction that had been very important to him and it hurt deeply that Eddie responded so negatively. Where was it coming from, really? It's not like the man could throw stones. They both had blood on their hands. The only difference between them was, well... Volume. And skills. Okay, there was quite the difference. Didn't make it hurt less.
He surreptitiously swiped his eyes and then returned to the rhythm of checking and stocking the ladder truck. The vehicle swayed a little when someone climbed in. He looked over his shoulder, but it was just Hen. "Hey," The older woman said. "Wanna talk?" He shook his head and kept on working. "Cap might need to know soon, are you gonna tell him or do you want me to do it." Her voice was soft and gentle and it made his chin tremble and tears well up. This is why nobody ever believed him to be a SEAL. He was so fucking emotional and sometimes it was too fucking much.
"You." He croaked out. He quickly glanced around, noting that everyone was conspicuously out of view. He fumbled a tissue out of his pocket and used it to dab his eyes. More tears welled up and he released a bone-deep sigh. He might be able to flip a switch on his emotions but he'd never been able to install a dimmer. "My kingdom for a dimmer." He muttered. "What?" Hen asked with a little laugh. He quirked a smile at her. "Sometimes I too wish I could dial the volume down on myself."
"Hey no," She responded and put a warm hand on his shoulder. "You are perfect as you are, no need to change that." He couldn't really believe that, not with Eddie as very visible proof to the contrary lurking around. "You don't know the worst parts of me, Hen." He said hoarsely. "I don't need to." She replied fiercely. "We all have dark parts, all of us. Better to know all of yourself and not be surprised, then to repress and ignore and have it explode in the worst way." She caught his gaze and her words did soothe him a little. He sat down in his usual seat and Hen sat down next to him. She bumped their shoulders with a gentle smile and all he could think about was Eddie looking so soft when he invited him home, the previous shift. A fresh wave of tears was the result and he decided to rip off the bandaid.
"I uh, told Eddie I was in love with him and he didn't react badly!" He willed her to understand. "But he doesn't feel about me like that and I told him I need distance to get over him, you know?" Hen nodded with an understanding look. She waited for him to add more, but this was basically it. The best covers are like that: simple and mostly truthful.
"First of all, I'm really sorry Buck. I know how difficult this can be, especially with someone whose sexuality hasn't been publicly defined and who can react either way. That was very brave of you." She put a supportive arm around him and he couldn't help but melt a little in her side. Coming out was always nerve racking and being bi or pan wasn't always well received by the rest of the queer community. He was relieved the older woman didn't seem to mind. "Second, if he didn't react badly, then why is he so..." She trailed off, searching for words.
"Angry? Hostile?" He sat back in his seat and groaned. Because that was the question and the love confession story didn't cover it. "Maybe... Maybe he just really needs a friend right now and not someone who is panting after him?" Hen shot him a stern look. "You were not panting after him. Or not just that." She smirked at him. "But that could be it. He needs his best friend right now and not someone who is keeping his distance." Buck grimaced at that. It might actually contain a grain of truth, what with the whole Shannon returning and her dying and Christopher's grief. Eddie had hardly settled in, only to have more shit dumped on him.
Hen squeezed his shoulder one last time before standing up. "Well, there is not much you can do about this, except respect his space and not engage in his aggression, which you are doing already. I'll talk to Bobby. Hopefully this will resolve itself in the next couple of weeks. Do you need some time off?" He shook his head vehemently. Twiddling his thumbs while feeling like this? That was just asking for acts of stupidity. No siree, better to keep himself occupied.
With a last nod and shoulder pat, Hen left the ladder truck and Buck returned to his clipboard and checks. Time to get busy.
---
Eddie cornered him at his Jeep when the shift ended. At least he kept his voice down. "Didn't know you could lie so well, but guess I shouldn't be surprised when it's someone like you." Buck clenched his jaw. "Well, it was all close to the truth. If you'd reacted well, that love confession would have followed soon." The blond smiled bitterly at that. Eddie scoffed. "Right, and I'm supposed to believe that. I'll have to double-check whatever comes out of your mouth and yet I'll never know what's real."
"What have I lied about?" He hadn't. He didn't like it and there was no reason to. The older firefighter raised his eyebrows at that. "You lied about being a SEAL." He spoke slowly. "I let them draw their own conclusion, it was at most a lie of omission." The look of contempt drifting over Eddie's face spurred him on. "Just like you lied by omission about whatever you did to earn a Silver Star?" The outrage that caused was delicious. "We're both killers, Diaz. At least I'm not fooling myself." He shot a glance at Eddie's balled fists. "Missed it?" He asked poisonously sweet.
"Fuck you, Buckley." And with that, his former best friend stormed off.
Buck folded himself in his driver's seat and closed the door. He needed three breathing exercises before he was calm enough to drive. He really fucked that up, didn't he? But what high horse was Diaz riding in on? He'd specifically chosen the SEALs because he'd wanted to deal with the really, really bad guys. He didn't want to be part of the army, do his duty and later learn that he hadn't killed a suspected terrorist, but instead some poor villager. Or be sent somewhere to fight over what amounted to oil rights. He joined the military to escape his home life, not to potentially kill an innocent. And yes, he did think that through when he was 17 and decided to enlist. He rather doubted younger Eddie had thought that far before signing on the dotted line. Which isn't to say that he looks down on Eddie for that, it's just that he really has no moral high ground.
And Eddie does look down on him and that... That hurts.
---
Four weeks later and things had... Settled down. Eddie and he worked in icy politeness, but they managed to remain professional. Whenever Eddie forgot events they managed to work perfectly together, just like before. Too often they fell out of sync because the older man turned stiff.
He thought he could deal with distance and distaste, since he'd lived with it for 17 years, but his patience for it seems to have dried up. Dr. Copeland said that he is starting to want better for himself and is not just bleakly willing to accept a situation that is inescapable, like living under his parent's roof as a minor.
On the one hand, Eddie's attitude is killing his crush faster than expected. On the other, it's killing their friendship too. True, being best friends had already been punted straight out the window. He couldn't ever truly trust Eddie on a fundamental level, because the man's reaction to Buck being a SEAL, a hell hound, had been fear and keeping him away from his son. This knee-jerk distrust would always be there in the back of Eddie's mind, whether he could reconcile himself with the blond's past or not. How could they build a deep, meaningful friendship on that kind of basis?
A romantic relationship was completely impossible now too. Eddie would never truly entrust his son's care to Buck. He would hesitate to leave them alone, he would postpone living together until they both gave up on the idea and whenever something bad happened to Christopher in the younger man's care, Eddie would be the first to distrust Buck. Just imagining it made him feel sick.
Buck repeated all of this to himself over and over again to get through his shifts. It helped the pining, but it didn't help the building resentment or the heartbreak. If Eddie didn't swiftly pull his head out of his ass, there would be nothing left of their friendship and at this rate Buck might not even care.
Dr. Copeland thought it likely that the older firefighter was simply lashing out, because he couldn't at the other stressors in his life, like his wife dying and his son's grief. Or he might actually be homophobic? Plenty of people could 'deal' with lesbians, but gay men were a step too far.
He didn't know anymore. He used to think he knew Eddie pretty well. Not all the biographical details, but who he was and how he would react to most situations. And then... This. Maybe it all had just been wishful thinking on Buck's part. They'd only known each other for less than a year. And Buck? Buck was desperate for a family of his own: a partner, children, a white picket fence. He'd seen a ready-made family and he'd longed to have it for his own. A beautiful dream, but as it turned out, nothing more.
---
It took a few more months and a bomb explosion for him to find his answer to the dog joke thing.
Look, he hadn't been bouncy or enthusiastic or eager enough to invite those jokes and all the kicked puppy/beaten dog analogies were whispered about well behind his back. If he hadn't been too tired to remember to make noise, he would have missed those comparisons completely and that would have been just fine, really.
Maddie's ranting about his recklessness and immaturity finally helped him put a finger on what exactly bothered him. She hadn't liked finding out that she wasn't his emergency contact, next of kin or power of attorney. He had been slightly astonished that she had assumed she would have been. She hadn't been back all that long and most of that time she was busy with her new relationship. He didn't know if she would respect his wishes when it came to his medical care, let alone if she would keep a lid on his medical information. He did know his former CO, Hondo Harrelson, would and that man had proven to be a godsend. Hondo had even hustled Maddie out of his hospital room whenever she became too upset. Buck had been secretly relieved. The situation had been difficult enough, he didn't need to soothe his sister too.
All of this to say that it highlighted the difference between being called Kid or a kid. The first was a nickname. An acknowledgement of his very young age at that time while also affirming that he would learn and grow. It made him feel seen and wanted. It was his former teammates telling him he belonged.
When his current teammates and Maddie called him a kid, they meant childish and immature. They said it like it's a given and unchangeable, and they disregarded anything that contradicted it.
The dog thing was the same and yet also worse. When they said dog they meant pet. Not in a kinky way or out of a feeling of ownership, but in the way that you don't give a pet responsibilities. You don't expect them to do their jobs without a firm hand guiding their actions. A pet doesn't have agency, they are not autonomous. A pet cannot be independent and they certainly cannot make decisions for themselves.
This was the subtext that had been irking him. It's not a strong undercurrent, he doubted anyone thinks it consciously. But it spoke, like a drumbeat more felt than heard, in every word and action during his recovery. Usually it was very, very subtle. But sometimes he practically drowned in it.
So when LA SAR contacted him after they saw the footage of the tsunami, he took it under advisement.
(This was one of the few times he was glad his friendship with Eddie had imploded. He shuddered to think about Chris having been on that pier with him.)
And when he learned his captain was keeping him from the job even though he was medically cleared to work, because he was on blood thinners for the moment, all he could think was 'No.'
He accepted LA SAR's job offer the very next day. He didn't look back.