Archive of Our Own ^beta

Eddie feels hopeless.

He’s gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his bruised knuckles are turning a faint white. He wonders if there are any words he could say to fix things, except words have never been his strong suit. 

But there aren’t, anyway. This isn’t something that can be fixed overnight. Or a ten-hour car ride back to Los Angeles. 

Buck sits next to him in the passenger seat while some soft song plays through the car’s dingy speakers. He’s quiet, staring out the window as nothing but trees and dirt pass by. It’s a familiar sight—a mirror of days before, but in different clothes, a different car, and different people. 

He’s quiet. He’s been quiet since they left New Mexico. Eddie lets him be quiet. 

But the silence feels off. Buck’s never quiet. He’s always bursting with life, even when he’s tired and pissed off and starving. Eddie would rather the argument of the previous days over the soundlessness that possesses him now. 

It makes the air in the car feel cold. A mask worn. And for once, it’s not only Eddie wearing it. 

“Hey.” Eddie breaks the silence. “You good?”

Buck hums. He turns to Eddie and blinks softly, like Eddie’s voice had woken him from a trance he didn’t even realize he was in. “Yeah. I’m fine.” 

Eddie wants to push. He wants to dig deep under Buck’s skin and fix everything from the inside out, but he doesn’t know how. That’s always been his strong suit—being the one person always to uncover Buck’s resistance to opening up. 

Today, that task feels impossible. 

“You know,” Eddie coughs out awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. “You don’t have to feel fine.”

Buck lets out a sad attempt at a snort. “Isn’t that usually my line?”

“Well, it’s your turn now to be…”

“Psycho-analyzed?” Buck cuts him off. 

Eddie huffs. “That wasn’t what I was gonna say.”

Buck turns to look out the window again. “Sure.” 

Eddie shoots him a quick glare, eyes drifting from the road for a split second. Immediately, they catch on to the horrid bruises on the side of his face and the strange marks on his neck. Eddie’s almost too afraid to ask what they’re from. He knows so little of what Buck went through. 

He wasn’t there in the hospital room when Buck gave his statement to the police. Eddie was too preoccupied being in his own hospital room, getting checked over and scolded by the nurse for escaping through a window while injured. By the time Eddie was allowed to leave and make his way back to Buck, the officers were gone. 

He was hesitant to even let Buck out of his sight again once the ambulance drove away. Eddie may have been bruised and bloodied himself, surrounded by cops at the Sheets’ house, but the only pain he felt was a phantom limb being ripped from his body as Buck was driven away. 

So when they were reunited in the hospital again, Eddie didn’t ask the questions that had plagued him then. He let Buck rest as he called Athena to settle on a plan back home. 

Athena had given him a brief explanation of what Buck had gone through, but nothing she said could explain the taser scars left on Buck’s neck. Eddie has a faint idea of how it happened, yet he doesn’t know how to ask. He doesn’t want his biggest nightmare to be confirmed. 

Before Eddie can even figure out the words to ask, Buck speaks again, always somehow managing to read his mind. “I know you want to ask about it,” he says while picking at the skin around his nails. “You—you wanna know what happened, that’s fair, but…” he sighs. “Not yet. Please.”

Eddie nods, releasing a low, “Of course.” He straightens up in his seat to check the time on the radio. “We have eight hours and forty-seven minutes anyway.” 

Buck lets out a small huff of breath at that, but he doesn’t speak again. He turns back to the window. A new soft song plays through the speakers. Eddie wants to turn it off, but he leaves it on. He grips the wheel tighter. 

Miles pass by without a word said. The silence eats Eddie up. He hates it more than anything. 

“Did the doctor say when you could be back at work?” he asks just for the sake of conversation.

“Several weeks, probably. I gotta talk to Chim about it,” Buck replies. 

Eddie hums approvingly. If it were up to him, he’d be wrapping Buck up in bubble wrap and never letting him leave the house again. 

“What about you?” Buck asks a moment later. 

“What about me?”

“You look almost as bad as me.”

“Almost,” Eddie points out. “I’ll be fine.”

Buck sighs and looks away again. 

“What?” Eddie asks. 

“Just—” Buck exhales. Eddie can hear the frustration inching in his voice. “You can’t worry about me and then not let me worry about you.”

It’s a nice sentiment, but Eddie rejects it. He’s always worried about Buck; this situation doesn’t change that. It’s like whenever he’s away from Buck, he feels a buzz under his skin that he can’t control, a scratch he can’t itch until Buck’s standing in front of him again. Not knowing where Buck was for hours only made that feeling grow tenfold. 

“Buck, I’m fine. What I went through is nothing compared to you,” he says.

Buck deplores this. “Don’t compare them, that’s—that’s shit, okay? You didn’t even tell me what you went through.”

“It’s not important.”

“I think it is,” Buck argues, then nearly begs, “Please, Eddie. Tell me.”

Again—because he simply cannot help it, Eddie looks over at Buck. There’s something that always draws him to Buck. Buck says jump, and with excruciating surrender, Eddie says how high, because that’s just how they are. There’s something within Buck that Eddie will perpetually be tied to. 

Eddie knows what it is. He knows what the feeling means; he just hasn’t put a name to it yet. 

The name itself is obvious—four letters that anyone could guess, but Eddie can’t. Everyone can see it. Everyone saw it. The men at the diner. The sheriff and the deputy. Eddie knows what it is. That’s why he can’t resist it when Buck asks. 

Buck stares back at him, eyes begging. Eddie relents like he knew he would. “You really wanna know?”

“It’ll help.” 

He inhales before speaking. “Well, I woke up in the hospital, and you weren’t there. I asked, and they said—They said nobody was in the car with me.”

At that, Buck takes in a sharp breath. Eddie has to avoid looking at him by reminding himself that he’s currently driving a moving vehicle, and he will not allow Buck to get into another car crash right now. 

“I don’t have to—”

“No,” Buck cuts him off, his voice lacking any mirth. “Keep going.”

So, because he’s a hopeless man, Eddie does. 

“I reported it. I spoke to the sheriff. He was… an asshole. He was no help.”

Eddie holds back telling Buck how he caused a scene in the hospital until the doctor finally called an officer down. He doesn’t tell Buck how, when the sheriff eventually came, that he compared Buck to his own wife. He doesn’t mention the implications behind it all. He doesn’t mention that the sheriff had accused Eddie of hurting Buck. 

“I told him about the pick-up truck. I… thought it was those dickheads from the diner. The whole time I was trying to track them down. I thought—” 

“You thought they had taken me?” Buck asks when Eddie can’t bring himself to finish his sentence.

All Eddie can do in response is nod. His throat feels too tight to give a proper answer—of how Eddie ran all over New Mexico under the assumption that Buck was taken because of—

The reason is unspoken. 

“You thought the guys at the diner that were insinuating we were—” Buck chokes. 

Eddie nods again. His eyes burn as he stares at the road ahead so that Buck can’t see how they threaten to turn misty. 

Buck stammers, his voice riddled with sorrow. “Eddie, I’m—I’m so sorry.” 

“What?” Eddie huffs. “What are you sorry for?”

“They thought we were—” Buck still can’t bear to say it. “Because of me. He got in your face because of me.”

“No,” Eddie says sternly and shakes his head. “No, Buck, it wasn’t just you. It was both of us. We were both yelling. Besides, I got in his face first.” 

But Buck isn’t taking it. 

“Still. That would’ve been uncomfortable for you,” he insists. “For them to assume—”

“That I’m gay?” Eddie says the word they’ve both been dancing around. He forces himself to glance over at Buck for a moment just to see him nod timidly. 

But the thing is—they wouldn’t even be wrong to assume that. 

Eddie knows it’s true. He’s known for some time now, deep down below the skin where nobody could find it. He’s hidden it. He couldn’t face it. 

And now it’s a slap to the face. Every day, a new challenge awaits him. Buck and Ravi wanting to set him up on dates with women. Abigail and Athena implying something going on between him and Alex. Chimney forcing him to volunteer for the bachelor auction. 

There’s an assumption for Eddie, an expectation that he will never reach. It’s been held over his head his whole life. In the past, it drove all his decisions. Marry the girl in a nice church that you got pregnant. Have a family. Provide for that family. Be the good father and husband and son you’re supposed to be. 

Eddie grinned and beared it, but it always felt wrong. He knows why now. He realized eight hundred miles away from home why being so far from Buck felt so sickeningly wrong. 

But, because Eddie is the man he is, he pushed it down deep. 

Except now it’s starting to come up like the bile in his throat. 

“No, Buck,” he grunts. “It was uncomfortable because he was being a homophobic dickhead, not because he thought I was gay.”

He can feel Buck’s large eyes boring into the side of his face. By some miraculous defiance, he ignores it. 

“You… thought they targeted me because they assumed we were a couple,” Buck says. 

Eddie nods slowly. “I did.”

When the doctor said to him that nobody else was in the car with him, Eddie thought the absolute worst. He thought those bigoted dickheads had purposefully driven them off the road. He thought they took Buck. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine what they were doing to Buck. 

The sheriff didn’t help—he only made every fear Eddie had ten thousand times worse. Every sly comment and borderline microaggression he threw Eddie’s way only made him more frightened for Buck. For what the people of this backwards town were capable of. 

It’s sad to think about. Eddie grew up in a similar environment; he knows that. He did his best to rise above it. He raised Chris in a way that he’d never even consider the remarks and insults thrown his and Buck’s way the day before. Except that doesn’t stop the way Eddie’s brain plays tricks on him, convincing him that this part of himself he cannot control is corrupt. He’s still trying to rise above it.

“And the sheriff, he thought the same too,” Eddie says, because apparently he’s incapable of shutting up. 

“He did?” 

Eddie nods. “Probably why he was no help. He thought that it was me who…” he drifts off. The did it is implied, Buck doesn’t need to know the why. “Anyway, I called Athena. I… escaped the hospital to find you.”

Buck turns to face him head-on, eyes bursting out of his head. He only whines slightly from the quick movement. “Escaped how?” 

Eddie brushes it off. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Eddie—”

He ignores Buck’s pleas. He knows Buck won’t be pleased hearing how he jumped out of a hospital window, hitched a ride on a horse and bought a second-hand car just to find him. 

“I went back to the diner, spoke to a waitress there, and she told me to speak to the Sheets. Maddie found their address and… well, you know the rest.” 

He also purposefully doesn’t mention that the waitress wanted his number. He doesn’t mention the feeling of immense sickness that grew in his stomach at that moment. 

Buck takes a minute to respond after. He sits there, blinking, taking it all in, before whispering, “You… did that for me.”

“Don’t sound so surprised—”

“I am surprised. Eddie—” 

He cuts Buck off. “Look, you would’ve done the same for me, okay? It’s just… what we do for each other.” They have each other’s backs. To Eddie, it’s a vow he won’t break. He knows Buck considers it the same. “We’re there for each other. We help each other. We save each other. I wasn’t leaving New Mexico until I found you. No matter what,” he says. 

The whole time that Eddie was losing his mind running around New Mexico, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over what happened. If it were those assholes from the diner, it was Eddie who confronted them while Buck was trying to get him to leave them alone. It was Eddie who was driving the car when it crashed. It all felt like his fault. He wasn’t giving up until he found Buck—alive. 

“Really?” Buck asks in a faint voice. He sounds surprised. 

Eddie dares a quick look over to find Buck already looking back, eyes wide and mouth agape. He looks so fragile like this, pale skin covered in cuts and bruises, expression bewildered. It makes Eddie want to reach over the console and grab his hand. To hold it tight in his own grip and never let go. 

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asks, yet Buck doesn’t answer. He just stares back.

Eddie has to tear his eyes away from Buck when an alarm on his phone rings out. They’ve been driving for ninety minutes. He had set it as a reminder for Buck to stretch his legs, maybe a little too anal, but he wouldn’t dare going against Athena and Maddie’s orders. Thankfully, they were cruising along an empty road. Eddie pulls off on the side of the road, surrounded by dirt only. 

The whole time he’s pulling the car into park, he can still feel Buck’s eyes on him. As he cuts the engine, he turns over to gaze at Buck again. “C’mon,” Eddie orders before getting out of the car. 

He rounds the corner to Buck’s side, all the while Buck remains frozen inside. Opening Buck’s door for him, Eddie sticks a hand out to offer help in getting out. But Buck doesn’t take his hand. He just stares up at Eddie through eyelashes, wide-eyed and growing teary. Eddie has to bite back to restrain himself from doing something stupid he’ll regret—like pulling Buck to his feet and crushing him in an embrace that will only leave them both in more pain. 

“Come. Take it,” Eddie says as he offers his hand. After a moment, Buck takes it. His hand is hot in Eddie’s palm, a little sweaty, but Eddie doesn’t mind. He can feel the cuts along the back of his hand. He can see the marks left from the tape they cuffed Buck with on his wrists. It only makes Eddie hold on tighter. 

He pulls Buck out of his seat slowly, but he still doesn’t let go of his hand. He leads Buck a few steps away from the car to stretch out. 

“You hungry?” Eddie asks casually after a moment to somehow fix the strange tension growing between them. It’s an avoidance strategy, he knows that, but it doesn’t stop him. He turns away and slowly lets his hand slip out of Buck’s, despite how wrong it feels to let go. “I can grab a snack from the trunk.”

Again, Buck doesn’t answer. Eddie turns around to find him dazed and out of it, staring at Eddie. 

“Buck?” he calls out. Buck just blinks back. “Buck? What’s wrong?”

“You—” is all Buck manages, his face breaking. “You did that—For me—” he chokes out before crumbling on the spot.

Without hesitation, Eddie catches him. He holds Buck in his arms carefully, like he could break further at any moment. Eddie doesn’t want to cause pain to either of them anymore. God knows they’ve been through enough.

“Hey, bud,” he whispers, pushing back the curls that fall against Buck’s forehead in a smoothing manner. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Buck isn’t crying, but it’s a near-thing. He breathes heavily into Eddie’s neck as he tries to catch his breath. Eddie presses two of his fingers into the pulse point on Buck’s neck, just to feel. 

Several minutes pass before Buck finally calms down enough to pull back an inch and look up at Eddie. 

“You make it so hard,” he whispers. 

Eddie’s brows furrow. “What so hard?”

But Buck only shakes his head like he’s shaking the thought away. He steps out of Eddie’s embrace, and all Eddie can do is let him go. “Don’t worry about it,” he mutters. 

“No, Buck,” Eddie insists. “What?”

“I just—” Buck exhales but doesn’t elaborate. He turns away. “Nothing. I’m tired.”

Eddie knows he’s avoiding the truth, but he lets Buck get away with it. They’ve still got hours left of the drive. It’ll come out eventually. 

“Okay,” he says faintly. “Take a lap, and we’ll get back in the car. You can sleep for the next ninety.”

Buck sleeps for the next ninety minutes, but it’s not soundly. He blinks in and out of consciousness. He jumps at every bump in the road. Eddie can’t do anything to help him.

Their next stop is a bathroom break. Buck doesn’t say a word as he exits the car and makes his way into a dingy restroom beside a gas station. Eddie watches as Buck walks off while he fills the car with gas, a sense of dread washing over him as the door closes behind Buck.

He knows Buck is safe, it’s just a restroom, Eddie is only standing feet away—and yet, he can’t help the pulsing in his veins when Buck leaves his sight.

How is he possibly meant to survive returning to their normal life, where Buck no longer lives on his couch, is beyond him. 

Buck says nothing when he returns to the car, so Eddie says nothing. They drive in silence. 

Buck breaks it after the next ninety. 

“What did the sheriff think you did?” he asks after settling back in the car. 

“What?”

“Before. You said he thought it was you who—but then you cut yourself off.”

Eddie plays dumb. “Did I?” 

“Eddie.” Buck glares at him. “Did he think you… hurt me?”

Eddie can tell that Buck’s trying to piece everything together. That knowing all the facts will make him understand. It’s why he loves researching random things so much. He loves knowing how things work. 

Eddie can also tell that it’s a cover for having to think about his own involvement in the matter. 

So he answers honestly. “I think so. He was very…” he tries finding the word, “accusatory. He had the deputy guard my room.” 

Buck seems confused. “Why would he think that?”

Eddie knows the answer to that, but he brushes it off. “I don’t know, maybe because you shouted for me to kill you in a packed diner?”

At that, Buck blushes, sinking deeper into the passenger seat. “Yeah, but I wasn’t serious.”

Eddie shoots him a small grin to show no harm. “I know that. We were both pissy.”

“You were pissy,” Buck argues. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Because you pissed me off.”

That causes Buck to grin softly, a light chuckle escaping. Eddie cherishes the sound. 

“Not my fault that you get pissed off so easily,” Buck jokes. 

“Only from you.”

“Like a married couple,” Buck says, like it’s finally clicking for him. “He thought you did it because he thought we were a couple.”

Eddie gathered that much himself when he spoke to the sheriff in the hospital. The guy wasn’t subtle. Athena even told him after what he had said on the phone to her. Eddie’s surprised the sheriff still didn’t try to arrest him out of pure pettiness after they found Buck.

“Yeah, well, it usually is the husband, isn’t it?” he tries to deflect by joking, but that only makes Buck choke on a gasp.

“Not that we’re—” 

“He thought we were,” Eddie cuts him off. “Wasn’t the only person who thought so, too. The whole town probably thought it.” 

Harley spitting out your kind like it was a slur still rings in his head. 

“That… must’ve been hard for you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “No. Everything else was hard—trying to find you, being accused, but not that part.” 

Buck looks at him, puzzled. “Not the part people assumed we were a couple?”

“No.” 

“Or people assuming you were gay?”

Eddie takes in a breath, because yes, that part was hard. But it was hard because it’s a truth he hasn’t yet accepted. He doesn’t know what to do about it yet. 

“Not for the reason you’re thinking,” he says honestly, surprising even himself.

“What—What does that mean?” Buck asks. 

Eddie could brush it off. He could evade the truth. He could change the subject or not say anything at all—but he doesn’t want to. Something about Buck’s questioning makes him want to be honest. Maybe it’s something he owes himself—and to Buck. 

He sucks in a sharp breath. His fingers flex against the steering wheel. “This probably isn’t the ideal time for this, given the circumstances and everything—”

“Eddie, please,” Buck begs. “Just be honest.” 

Eddie tightens his grip again before saying lowly, “I… don’t think I’m straight,” because saying that is easier than saying I’m gay, despite how much more accurate it feels to him. Part of him is still afraid. 

“O—oh.” Buck almost chokes on the word. Eddie cannot even bear to glance over at him in the corner of his eye. “What makes you think that?” Buck asks, but it isn’t harsh. It’s filled with a want to understand. 

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Probably the fact that I’ve felt no desire to date a woman in over a year.”

“You’ve been through a lot. That’s—that’s normal,” Buck defends. 

“Buck, I made your sister secretly bid on me at the auction just so I wouldn’t have to go on a date with a woman,” Eddie confesses, which is kind of ironic. It was that aforementioned auction that may have also caused Eddie to have some sinful dreams about his best friend that really cemented his suspicion of being gay. 

“You—What?” Buck blurts. 

“I paid Maddie to bid on me.”

“Why?”

Eddie sighs, exasperated. “Because I don’t want to date women, Buck.” 

After that, Buck stays quiet for a moment. He’s processing. Eddie doesn’t fault him for it. He knew the timing wasn’t right, but Buck had asked, and Eddie has a hard time saying no to him. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Buck eventually says. “I’m proud of you. I know it isn’t easy.”

Eddie resists an eye roll at the cheesiness. “Shut up.”

“No, I am,” Buck insists. Eddie glances his way and Buck shoots him a small grin. “And just like you said—This doesn’t change a thing between us.”

Eddie has to turn away from him. He bites his tongue.

What if he wanted things to change between them? 

But he doesn’t ask that. It’s the wrong time. 

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he says instead. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, bud.”

Buck huffs, his grin diminishing. “Nothing.”

“Sure. You keep asking all these questions over nothing?”

Buck looks out the window again. It seems to be his avoidant strategy today. “I still don’t want to talk about it,” he says softly.

Eddie sighs, but gives in. “Okay. We still have time.”

“What if… I never want to talk about it?” Buck asks. 

“That would probably be an unhealthy coping mechanism,” Eddie says. “Take it from me, I know.”

“I just want to forget.”

It pains Eddie that he can’t grant Buck that. He wishes he could. He wishes this had never happened. Buck’s already been through so much recently—they both have. On top of everything else Buck’s been dealing with, he didn’t need this as well. 

“I don’t think this is something that will be easy to forget.”

“I wish it was,” Buck whispers under his breath. 

“Me, too,” Eddie whispers back. A beat passes. “Do you… think you’ll see someone when we get home? Like a therapist?”

Buck sniffs. “Maddie wants me too.”

“Do you want to?”

“I just—” Buck groans. “I thought I was done with therapy. I don’t want to go through it all again.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie replies. “For the record, I agree with Maddie. I definitely think you should go.”

Buck snorts at that. “You’re such a hypocrite.” It’s a half-joke. 

Either way, Eddie still chuckles. “I know,” he says before daring to cross a line they’ve been avoiding for months. “Maybe it’ll help with… other things too.”

“Like what?” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to broach the topic in a kind manner, in a way that won’t make Buck immediately deflect. He still remembers the night in his kitchen almost a whole year ago. How Buck had closed himself up. How Eddie had to yell just to get through.

They still haven’t spoken about that night. Eddie doesn’t know if they ever will. 

“Oh,” Buck mutters, having come to the realization himself. “You mean Bobby.”

“Not just that.”

“What else, then?” Buck asks bitterly.

“I—” Eddie stutters. He hesitates telling Buck this. “I spoke to Maddie about the thing with your parents.”

“The thing with my parents?” Buck repeats. His irritation only grows. 

Eddie nods. “Yeah. You were too… normal about it.”

“So, me acting normal is weird enough that you have to confront my sister?” Buck bites back. 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Eddie throws up his defences. “It’s just not… you. You get obsessive over these things. You overthink. You don’t take no for an answer. You didn’t do that this time, and that’s not you.” 

Buck scoffs at that. He crosses his arms over his chest despite Eddie knowing it’ll cause the bruises on his arms to strain from doing that. “Sorry for maturing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause this conversation is so mature.”

“I just—” Buck puffs a breath. “They gave up on each other, they stopped having each other’s backs, that’s on them. It doesn’t affect me. It’s—it’s not the family that matters to me.” 

“I get that, but—”

“No,” Buck cuts him off sternly. “No buts.” 

“Fine. If you’d rather talk about Bobby—” 

“Oh my God,” Buck groans. “You still hung up on that? You haven’t mentioned it in—” he pauses, clearly thinking about the same night Eddie was. “I’m surprised you never staged an intervention like Chim and Hen.”

“Would it have helped?” Eddie retorts. Buck glares at him. “I’m serious, man. It’s almost been a year.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“No. I don’t know what you think. We never talk about it.”

“For good reason,” Buck counters. 

Eddie turns a sharp corner on the road, which probably isn’t super wise considering the light patter of rain that’s starting to fall. “The only reason is you pushing me away,” he says through gritted teeth and turns on the wipers. “Like—Why’d you even move out in the first place?”

Buck turns, completely irked. “What? You thought I was gonna live on your couch forever?”

“No—”

“We weren’t going to be playing house forever, Eddie. I had to leave before I got—” he cuts himself off suddenly. 

“Before what?”

“Nothing,” Buck mutters. 

“Before what, Buck?”

Buck tries to avoid it. He shuts down. “My head hurts, can you not do this now?”

“Bullshit,” Eddie spits. 

“Just—” Buck snaps back. “Drop it.”

“Fine,” Eddie growls. “But we’re circling back to this as well.”

“I will jump out this window.”

At that, Eddie reaches over and hits the button to lock all the car doors. The sound clicks through the car, making Buck scoff. 

“You’re an ass—”

He’s cut off by Eddie’s phone ringing in the cup holder. Buck glares at him for a moment longer before grabbing it. “It’s Chris,” he says, voice softening in an instant. 

“Answer it.” 

Buck pauses. He stares at Eddie, as if to say really? Eddie gestures to go on. 

“Hey Buddy,” Buck says once he swipes on the call, putting it on speaker. He attempts to mask the irritation in his tone from before. 

“Hi, Buck,” Chris says happily. 

“Say hi to your dad, too.”

“Hi, Dad.” 

Buck moves the speaker closer to Eddie. “What’s up?” he asks. 

“How much longer till you’re home?”

Eddie sneaks a glance at the time. “About four hours, give or take.” 

“You missing us?” Buck asks. 

Chris’s eye roll can be heard through the phone, but Eddie knows it’s exactly why he’s calling. 

“It’s not my fault you can’t be trusted when you’re alone. You end up in car crashes,” Chris jokes. 

Eddie has told Chris very little of what really happened to them on purpose. He knows about the car crash, but that’s really about it. Eddie does plan on telling him—he did make a vow of no more secrets between them when they returned from El Paso, but it’s not exactly something he wants to explain over the phone. 

And preferably, he’d like it if Buck were there explaining it by his side. As a team. 

“Hey. We also won the firefighter competition,” Eddie argues. 

“You tied.” 

“Still counts.” 

“Hen and Karen disagree.” 

Eddie laughs. “Well, I’d like to see Hen and Karen win a firefighter competition.” 

“They probably could and Karen isn’t even a firefighter,” Chris says with a snort. 

“He’s actually probably right,” Buck points out. He smiles softly as he says it, the anger from before simmering. 

Chris’s laughter quietens after a moment. His breath is loud on the line. “But everything’s good, right?” he asks, anxiety peaking through to his tone. Eddie recognizes it instantly. 

“Of course, mijo. We’ll be there before dinner time,” Eddie reassures him. 

“Will you stay for dinner, Buck?” Chris asks.

Buck looks over at Eddie. He seems unsure. “If you want me to,” he says, covering the microphone for a moment. 

Eddie nods. He always wants Buck there. He really means it when he says he never wants Buck out of his sight again. 

“Okay, then, I will,” Buck says, causing a cheer from Chris. 

They talk mindlessly about what Chris wants for dinner for a while until Eddie’s eyes catch onto a gas station. They’re almost on ninety minutes anyway, so he turns left for the exit. “Speaking of food, we should probably get some. You be good for Pepa, right bud?” 

“Yes, Dad,” Chris groans. “Bye, Buck.”

“See you later, buddy,” Buck calls out before hanging up the phone. He returns to his quietness as Eddie parks the car. 

Once the engine is off, Eddie turns to look at him. Buck’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darted off to the side. Eddie’s suddenly hit with the reminder of how vulnerable Buck looks in his current state. He knows Buck would hate it if he said that. Eddie doesn’t suspect he looks all that better himself, either, anyway. 

“What’s up?” he asks Buck. 

“Do you want me to stay for dinner?” Buck questions. He’s fidgeting with his fingers again. 

Eddie huffs. They may have spent the last hour more or less arguing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Buck around. “That’s a dumb question.”

“I mean it.”

Eddie tilts his head to try to catch Buck’s eyes. “Of course, Buck. Always.” 

Buck nods slowly, still keeping his gaze out of view. 

“You want something now?” Eddie asks, pointing over his shoulder at the gas station. 

“No, I’m good,” Buck mutters. 

“You’ve barely eaten this whole time,” Eddie comments. “And, you gotta move your legs. Come on, up.”

Buck wants to resist, but he inevitably gives in. He tugs on the car door, turning over his shoulder to glare at Eddie when he remembers that Eddie locked it. Eddie chuckles softly before unlocking the door. He trails behind Buck as they make their way into the gas station, the rain pelting down on them. 

“Actually, I was thinking—” Eddie begins as they walk through the doors. 

“Uh-oh.” 

Eddie would shove him if they both weren’t already limping. 

“You probably shouldn’t be alone when we get back to Los Angeles. Neither of us should—y’know, with our injuries.”

“Okay?” Buck peruses the shelves to avoid looking at Eddie. 

Eddie continues, “It’s probably best you stay with me while you’re recovering. Or, Chris and I can stay at yours, whatever works. You’ve got that guest room and everything.”

Buck slowly puts down the bag of chips he was holding to glance at Eddie. “Eddie, I just moved out of yours. Why would I move back in?” 

Because Eddie can’t bear the thought of letting Buck out of his sight again.

“For recovery,” he says instead. 

“Yeah, because sleeping on your couch will so help with my recovery,” Buck says sarcastically. “And don’t even offer me the bed because the couch won’t help with your recovery either.” 

“Nobody has to take the couch,” Eddie answers. They’ve shared the bed before. It was something they argued over when Eddie and Chris returned to Los Angeles. Eddie didn’t like Buck sleeping on the couch. It took him months to finally convince him to share the bed. 

They haven’t spoken about it since Buck moved out. 

“I—No,” Buck says firmly. 

“No?” Eddie repeats. His brows furrow. “Why not?”

“Eddie, we can’t share the bed. It’s—” Buck hesitates before going for the jugular. “It’s different.”

“How is it different?” Eddie asks.

“It just is now,” Buck mutters lowly, but Eddie still hears it. He hears the meaning between the words. 

Now—Because Eddie’s gay.

Buck sharply turns the corner down another aisle. Eddie’s hot on his tail, ignoring the cashier staring at them. They must be a strange sight. Two grown men who looked like they had just escaped a brawl arguing in the chip aisle.

“Because I’m gay?” Eddie blurts. It’s the first time he admits it aloud. 

Buck’s head is still turned down. He shakes it and mutters, “Forget it,” before walking back out the doors of the store. 

“No, what the fuck, Buck?” Eddie shouts after him, following him out into the rain. He ignores how it clings to his sweatshirt. “You just said this wouldn’t change a thing.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong, okay?” Buck huffs with his back still turned away. 

“Okay? Why are you acting like it’s a bad thing?” Eddie shouts. 

“I’m not! It’s not!” Buck shouts back. 

“Wow, convincing.” 

Buck groans loudly. He spins around, face burning in anger. “You don’t get it, Eddie,” he exclaims. “I can’t share a bed with you. I can’t live in your house. I can’t be a family with you, Eddie, without… without more. I want more. I need more. I can’t pretend anymore. Not—” he stops, swallows, before saying slowly, “not if you’re an option. I can’t pretend this doesn’t hurt me.”

Buck wraps his arms around himself as an attempt at comfort. The rain tracks down the curls on his forehead. There’s nothing Eddie wants more right now than to wrap his own arms around Buck instead. He feels his heart bend and break at every word Buck yells out. 

He didn’t realize Buck felt this way. 

“Who said it’s pretend?” Eddie whispers.

“Eddie.” 

“No, I—” Eddie wrings his hands together. He moves an inch closer into Buck’s space—slowly, as if not to frighten a scared animal. He can feel his pulse rushing as he says, “Buck, do you seriously think there’s any other option for me but you?” 

Buck stays silent. He just stares back, blankly. Only his eyes grow weary—a sign of his true feelings that he’s trying to mask. 

“I went through hell the last two days just for you, and I’d do it again a million times if it meant that you were okay,” Eddie says. “I need you, Buck, more than anything. I—It’s always been you. It always will be. Nothing you say or do will change that, okay? You can push me away and you can be an asshole, but I’m not giving up.” 

He moves in closer, placing a comforting hand on Buck’s arm. Buck shudders at the touch, but he doesn’t move away. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you, I don’t want to. I want to be there—I want you to be there.” Eddie has to fight the tears welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know how to go on without you. I nearly drove myself insane trying to find you. I had to convince myself you were still alive because if you weren’t, I—” he chokes. He’ll never forget the feeling of immense horror that filled his body the moment he discovered Buck was missing. It’ll haunt him. 

Buck drops his crossed arms. He steps in closer. “Eddie—” he whispers. 

“I know this is bad timing, for the both of us, but I—I need you. I—” Eddie takes a breath, “love you.” He babbles on too quickly, “We’re both really fucked up right now. We’ll probably get more fucked up. It’ll get harder before it gets easier, but I—I need you there. I need you close by and never out of my sight again. I need to be there when it’s hard, when you break down, when you have nightmares, and when the fight doesn’t feel worth it. I need to be there. I want to be there.” With an inhale, he says, “You can’t push me away,” eyes boring into Buck’s. 

“I don’t want to push you away,” Buck squeaks around a sob. 

“But you do.”

Buck nods. “But I do, and I probably will because I always do when I’m off like this, but—” Buck takes a breath, closing the gap between them. “Eddie, there’s nobody else I want to fight this with than you. I—I love you, too.” 

Despite the yelling and the tears and the rain—Eddie can’t help but let out a small grin at that. He slowly lifts his hands up and gently holds Buck’s face. He runs his thumb over the scrapes and bruises that litter his cheeks. Buck closes his eyes from the sensation. 

“Then, please, let me in,” Eddie begs. 

“Okay,” Buck says silently, giving in. “I’m gonna be an asshole though,” he says through a sad laugh. 

But all Eddie can do is pull him in closer, wrapping an arm around Buck and letting him fall into his embrace. “I know you will be. I won’t give up, though.”

 “I—I know you won’t,” Buck mumbles into his neck. 

A rush of relief runs through Eddie at the feeling of Buck in his arms—safe and protected and loved. 

He places a soft kiss on Buck’s forehead, wet from the rain, right over where a small cut is. He asks, nosing the curls on his head, “Can we talk about it? Please? I need to know.”

Eddie feels the fight leave Buck’s body instantly—how he lets himself relax and fall, finally whispering a faint, “Okay.” 

The next few hours of driving are excruciating. They drive in and out of the rain. Eddie slows the car down out of fear whenever the roads get too slippery.

The only comfort is Buck’s hand in his, resting across his thigh, and Buck’s voice in his ear, finally opening up about what happened. 

He explains what he can remember of what the Sheets did to him, but the details are hazy. He brushes over certain aspects, his throat tightening up in moments, but Eddie lets him. In those moments, he holds Buck’s hand tighter, stroking the back of it with his thumb until Buck relaxes again. He knows it wasn’t going to be easy, but they have time. They have a lifetime. 

“I—I told her about Bobby,” Buck says through puffs of breath. Eddie doesn’t say anything; he just nods along, letting Buck continue when he’s ready. “I understood what she was going through, to an extent. She lost a son. I lost a—”

“A father,” Eddie finishes for him when Buck can’t. 

Buck takes a sharp breath. He squeezes his eyes tight and nods. 

“Do… you want to talk about Bobby?” Eddie asks. 

Buck’s eyes remain closed as he finally gives in. “I just… I just wish he were still here. Every day I wake up and I forget for a brief moment that he’s gone. Sometimes I still expect to see him in the kitchen at the station,” he says heavily, fighting through the words. “He was the first person to believe in me.”

“He’d be proud of you,” Eddie says, certain. 

At that, Buck opens his eyes and looks over. “For what?”

“Look at you, Buck,” Eddie says as his thumb strokes over Buck’s bruised knuckles. “You fought your way out. Every day you fight some more, just to keep on living. That’s all he ever wanted for you. It’s all he ever wanted for any of us.”

“He knew you were going to come back home,” Buck says out of the blue. “He signed us up for the games, and he knew you’d come back before you did.”

“Because Bobby knew I’d always come back to you,” Eddie says, and he realizes just how true it is. Bobby did sign them up when he was in El Paso. He knew before Eddie knew. 

Eddie likes to think Bobby knew that this would be inevitable for him and Buck from the start. That they’d always end up here—holding hands and a promise to try in the future. 

Buck sniffles. “I don’t know who I am without him,” he whispers. 

“Me too,” Eddie says. “But we can figure it out together.” 

Buck gives his hand a squeeze and meets Eddie’s gaze. “I’d like that.” 

An hour later, when they’re finally beginning to round the corner of Eddie’s neighborhood, Buck shuffles in his seat nervously and asks, “Is that offer for a temporary roommate still open?”

Eddie prays it’s a little more than temporary, even if it’s not so realistic with Buck having just moved out.

Eddie guides their hands up to his lips and presses a small kiss to the back of Buck’s hand. “Of course. As long as we’re sharing the bed.” Buck chuckles at that, his cheeks burning. Eddie lowers their hands to his lap as he pulls the car into park in his driveway. 

It’s time to face reality again. 

Almost like clockwork from every spot of the last ten hours, Eddie kills the engine and hops out of the car. He rounds the corner of the hood as fast as his injuries allow him to open Buck’s door for him. When he does this time, Buck looks up at him and smiles. Eddie offers his hand again, and like before, Buck accepts it. He doesn’t hesitate this time. 

They don’t know what the future holds for them. They need to explain to Chris what happened. There’s a lot they have to work through. There’s a lot of healing and therapy and sleepless nights in their future, but at least they have this. They have each other. 

“You ready?” Eddie asks while closing the car door behind Buck. 

Buck nods, but when Eddie begins to lead him up the walkway to the house, he doesn’t follow. Buck tugs on Eddie’s hand, making him turn around until they’re face to face.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Buck doesn’t answer. He just pulls Eddie in slowly until their lips meet. It’s soft. It’s quick—nothing more than a peck, but it means everything. The beginning of their future. 

“Thank you,” Buck whispers when he pulls away. 

Eddie smiles at him. “Always,” he whispers back.