Chapter Text
Eddie sighed when he looked at the time. He still had an hour before he was supposed to wake up, but for once he was feeling rested. So he got out of bed, paused in front of Chris’ room to check if he was still sleeping, and headed to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. Things were finally settling down in Texas after a few months. He got a job in the El Paso Fire Department, and more importantly, his son was living with him again. So yes, things were good, and he was happy.
Of course, they were not perfect. Sometimes (more often than he likes to admit), he missed Los Angeles, the 118. Don’t get him wrong, Captain Morales was a good Captain, but he was nothing like Bobby. No home-made 'family meals', no wise fatherly advice, the team not feeling like a family. But he knew he would never find something like the 118, and their extended family, anywhere else. But most of all, he missed Buck. Because Eddie Diaz ain’t stupid, thank you very much, he knows how he feels toward Buck, he knows how much he needs him in his life, how Buck was such a steady presence since he came to L.A. But Eddie had priorities, Chris was his priority, first, secoànd, third, and all of them. So he buried his feelings deep down inside his mind and kept going. Maybe after the school year he’ll talk to Chris about visiting L.A., and why not just go back to L.A. But Chris seemed happy there, so he didn’t dare to ask his son to move and to risk losing him again. After all, Chris was his juice, he was sure about it.
Of course, he still texted with everyone, Maddie, Karen, Chim, Hen, Bibby, Athena, May (who was more harassing him at this point), and he facetimed with Abuela, Pepa, and Buck. But he also knew that he was distancing himself from his found-family, because he hurt less like that.
But that was for Chris.
His phone rang, pulling him out of his mind. He frowned when he saw Chim’s photo lit up on his screen. It was still early in L.A., and a sense of dread settled in his stomach. Why was Chim calling so early? A voice in his head told him not to pick up, maybe he could run away from whatever was happening 800 miles away from here. But no, he couldn’t do that to them. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tensed, answering the call.
“Chim? Everything’s okay?”
“ Eddie .” Chimney’s voice was hollow, “ It’s Bobby. Bobby’s dead. ” And with that, he heard his friend choke up.
Eddie didn’t know how he ended up on the floor, but he was sitting against the cabinet. His breath caught in his throat, and he was feeling the tears on his cheeks. “What?”
“ I know you are in Texas, but we need you. Buck really needs you .” He heard Chimney take a shaky breath. “ He’s -” but he couldn’t keep his sentence going.
“I’ll be there. Booking a flight as soon as we hang up.”
“ Okay. We’ll see you. ” And without another word, Chim hung up.
He didn’t know what to do. Should he text Buck, call him, or just wait to be in L.A.? He should call his captain, book a flight, ask Chris if he wanted to stay here or not, and call Pepa or Abuela. But he just couldn’t move. He stared at the void, letting himself cry. How could it be possible? Bobby was the rock of the 118. He was always there for anyone on the team. Bobby, who had helped him so much after Shannon’s death, even when Eddie had been rash and dismissive. Bobby, who had saved his life more than once.
Buck ! He needed to move, because Buck just lost the closest person he had to a dad. Eddie didn’t believe in the universe, but maybe it was screaming at him, because after so long, he would finally see Buck, but only because Bibby was dead. What an fucking idiot.
“Dad?”
He looked up, he hadn’t even seen his son. The teen’s brows were furrowed with concern.
“Dad? What’s happening?”
What should he do? He promised his son to be honest with him. “It’s Bobby.” His voice was shaking, “He’s- He’s dead. I need to go to L.A.”
Suddenly Chris’s arms were around him, and he was sure that his son was crying too.
“Can I come?”
“You want to?”
“Of course. I’ll be there for you, and Harry, and Denny. And Buck.”
Of course. Buck.
So Eddie did what he had to do, a new determination found in his son. He booked two tickets for the next morning. He went to speak to his captain, who said, ‘ Of course, I totally understand. Take as long as you need Edmundo ’, because of course he must have lost some people too, right? But he wasn’t sure if the Texan captain fully understood the bonds between Bobby and his team. How could he uh? He called Pepa and Abuela, and they agreed to let them stay at their place. At first, Eddie wanted to stay at Buck’s place, but maybe the other man was stayiçng with Maddie, Hen, or even Athena.
The next morning came in the blink of an eye. He tried to sleep during the flight, but when he tried, all he could hear was Buck calling him ‘ Eds, please come back. I need you. We need you ’. And that was what he was doing, right? Coming back to them. And maybe he fell asleep because suddenly it was night, and there was a tree in front of him, so close, and then-
“Dad!”
He jolted awake, disoriented from his nightmare. “What?”
“We just landed, Dad.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go, Mijo.”
He grabbed their two bags, he just took a few things because he didn’t plan on staying more than a week. After all, they needed to go back to their life in El Paso, and Chris couldn’t miss school too much. Eddie didn’t know that he was this tired; everything was hurting, even his head. The airport was busy, too busy, like how could the world still keep going when it just lost Robert Nash? And it smelled like the hospital. Or maybe his guilty brain was playing tricks on him. Because yes, Eddie Diaz felt guilty. Since Chim’s phone call, he wondered what had happened, and if he could have done something if he were still at the 118. Not that he didn’t trust his team, but he could not stop himself.
“Edito!”
His head snapped up to his Tia and Abuela, who ran to them and just hugged both of the boys, whispering condolences. And it felt like home. Like he hasn’t felt in months. Suddenly he was at the 118 entrance, alone. He must have zoned out on the way here, and the women brought Chris to their house. He needed to snap out of it if he wanted to support his family and Buck. He took a deep breath to compose himself, but it felt like something was stuck in his throat.
“Goddamit, Diaz. Get it together,” he murmured to himself, before pushing the door of the station open.