Chapter Text
“Tell Hen why you don’t like Natalia.”
Eddie takes a deep breath and fights the roll of his eyes despite the fact that his back is to Chimney. He knew this would happen. He knew the minute Chimney could get him alone, he’d pounce. And with Bobby downstairs in his office and Buck and Ravi fitting in a quick workout, Eddie has found himself alone in the loft with Chimney and Hen: A-Shift's dynamic duo of interrogation.
He refills his cup of coffee and turns around to face where they’re both seated at the table. “I didn’t say I don't like Natalia.”
He didn’t.
“But you said—”
“I said I don’t think dating someone you met on a call is a good idea.” He adds a shrug for a layer of nonchalance as he heads back to the table. When he sits down opposite Hen, she’s eyeing him suspiciously.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She raises her hands in the air in mock surrender and leans back in her chair. “It’s just a little…”
“Hypocritical,” Chimney smirks, traitorously.
“How do you figure?”
“How did you meet Marisol, again?” Hen asks like she doesn't already know the answer.
“That’s not the same thing.”
Their eyebrows raise in unison, which would be funny if they were pointing them at anyone other than him at the moment.
“It’s not like we exchanged numbers at the scene. And I don’t have a history of dating—“
“Badge bunnies?” Chimney grins, wagging his eyebrows. It earns him a swat from Hen and a very heavy, “Ew.”
“I’m not sure that applies to firefighters…” Eddie tries to add lamely as Chimney feigns innocence.
“How about fireflies?”
“How about you focus?” Hen rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to Eddie. “So it’s not that you don’t like Natalia but it bothers you that Buck met her on the job.”
“No, it bothers me..." He shrugs, looking for the right words. He takes a sp of his coffee and bites the bullet. "It bothers me how interested in death she is. Well, not death…it’s kind of nice that she helps people work through loss..."
“So not her interest in death but more specifically her interest in Buck's death. Or near-death.”
He nods and leans his forearms on the table, bracing himself for the motherly ridicule. Eddie is no stranger to the fragility of mortality. He’s been face to face with Death more times than he’d like; more times than he should, between his tours in Afghanistan, Shannon, a collapsed well, a sniper…
But instead of ‘you’re overreacting’ and ‘it’s not that big a deal’, Hen simply says, “Okay yeah. I get that.”
She looks like she’s going to say more but she’s mulling it all over in her head. Eddie and Chimney both sip their coffee and wait.
Maybe he should tell her that Buck’s out there saying things like ‘I think she sees more in me than I see in myself’ to really light the fire under Hen. Maybe then, Eddie won't be the only one with a pit that’s been growing in his stomach like an ulcer since Buck said it graveside months ago.
He desperately wants to add that Buck asked Natalia to help him pick out a new couch but he doesn’t want to sound like a fucking maniac either.
“Hey, you and Marisol are still coming tonight right?” Chimney asks in the silence.
Shit.
“Uh yeah, of course. It'll just be me though,” he smiles through it, hoping it’s not completely obvious that he had forgotten about Chimney and Maddie’s dinner invite. “Marisol can’t make it.”
“Next time,” Chimney shrugs. “’ Til then you’re stuck with me, Maddie, Young Buck, and Dr. Death.”
“Great.” He grins, moving to gulp down his coffee when he feels Hen still eyeing him curiously.
“—Well, I asked her about it and she said it sounded more like the enhanced cognition that comes with a NDE and less like the hallucinations you might have approaching death. There are studies—”
“Hallucinations?”
Maybe he heard that wrong. Between quickly responding to a text from Carla, consciously trying to stay out of the way in the Buckley-Han kitchen, and continuously getting shot down by Maddie when he offers to help, he’s only half listening to Natalia’s story. She’s nursing a cold glass of white across the island from Eddie with her hip resting against the counter. Buck, who mere moments ago was on the floor dropping sloppy goodnight kisses all over his niece’s face is now nodding along beside her like she’s not throwing out words like ‘enhanced cognition’ and ‘NDE’.
“Uh, it wasn’t really a hallucination,” Buck stutters. “It was more like—”
“Enhanced cognition,” she winks. It’s slightly captivating and entirely charming except for the obvious...
“What are we talking about?”
Maddie, who has been flitting back and forth from the table to the kitchen again refusing almost all help from her guests, raises an eyebrow at Eddie’s question before quickly composing her face and carrying on.
“You didn’t tell Eddie about your Wonderful Life?” Chimney asks from his spot at the stove.
“There’s nothing to tell.” The thing is, despite what Buck apparently thinks, Eddie sees him. Eddie knows him.
Eddie knows him like the back of his hand.
Eddie knows what days are leg days and what brand of protein powder he prefers.
Eddie knows that Maddie’s relationship with Chimney makes Buck so happy he’s cried over it.
Eddie knows that when Buck’s laughing with Jee, Denny, Harry, or Chris it’s genuine laughter.
Eddie knows that Buck is the guy who fixes things…if he only just stopped trying so hard.
Eddie knows that Buck has a tendency to love blindly and unconditionally, whether it’s deserved or not.
Eddie knows that if any of them asked, Buck would move mountains, cross oceans, run through fire…
Eddie knows what Buck’s chest feels like when his heart has stopped beating.
So Eddie knows that ‘there’s nothing to tell’ is a fucking lie.
“You sure?” Chimney scoffs, as Eddie passes Maddie the silverware she’s reaching for. “Nothing to tell? Like you weren’t a firefighter and uh, oh yeah, your dead brother was alive?”
Eddie wonders, briefly, if he looks as confused as he feels.
“Buck experienced enhanced cognition when he died,” Natalia says as though repeating the phrase explains everything but bile threatens to rise in Eddie’s throat at the casual nature of it. Everyone else in the room has looked Buck in the eye and said some version of the phrase ‘you died’ but this is different. It’s not weighted with grief. Natalia didn’t know Buck then. She didn’t watch it happen before her eyes or shout his name until her voice was hoarse. She didn’t pace the hospital hallways or sit with Bobby as he prayed. She didn’t go home and have to explain to her kid that there was another accident…
“Meaning?”
“When we were all waiting for him to wake up, Buck here was skipping around in an alternate reality dream world,” Chimney smirks as Buck rolls his eyes.
“Where Daniel was alive?” Eddie’s still confused.
“Everything was different.” It feels forced like there’s something Buck’s not saying. One look at Maddie tells him he’s right. “My parents lived in LA, Chim never met Maddie—”
“Doug was alive,” Chimney says softly, eyeing Maddie where she’s borderline obsessively folding napkins on the dining room table, her back tense.
“But Chim and Hen were Chim and Hen,” Buck tries to backpedal.
“And what about me?”
The silverware clashes as it drops to the table.
Buck's eyes are locked on the counter as he whispers, “...You weren’t there.”
“What?”
“And here you thought you were his bestie,” Chimney chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood as he passes behind Eddie towards the table. “At least Hen and I made it to bizarro-world.”
“Well so did Maddie’s piece of shit husband,” Buck bites in a tone that's light enough to be taken as a joke but it makes the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up all the same.
“And you were there. You just weren’t there. I think you were in Texas.”
“Your subconscious moved me back to El Paso?”
Buck shrugs like he doesn’t want to get into it, which only adds to Eddie’s interest.
“Was Marisol busy tonight?” Natalia asks after a quiet moment, obviously sensing the tension. Her smile is genuine, Eddie knows it is but it feels like she’s mocking him. Like she knows Eddie didn’t even ask Marisol to join them. Like behind that flawless smile and those beautiful curls is a brain that can read Eddie’s mind.
Things with Marisol are great. She’s kind and funny. She’s cute in a way that makes him a little flustered. They’ve kept it pretty casual—he’s not ready to dump his life story on this sweet woman who seems to actually like him.
He hasn’t introduced her to Chris yet either. She knows about him, of course, but he’s not ready for that yet. He doesn’t want to send himself spinning again.
“Yeah,” he smiles back at her. It’s a well-practiced polite smile he perfected on Taylor Kelly. “You’re stuck with me fifth-wheeling for now.”
“You’re not fifth-wheeling,” Maddie finally speaks. She seems to have shaken the uneasiness that was rolling off her in waves only moments ago. “We love the Diazes in this house,” she adds with a passing squeeze to his bicep as he slips passed him.
“Buck,” she smiles, turning to her brother, “can you grab the wine?”
Natalia and Buck split off, trying to determine what bottle of wine to open for dinner. Their voices aren’t loud enough to carry across the room as they talk closely in the courtyard where they’ve been chilling the wine.
“You don’t like Natalia,” Chimney whispers, crowding into Eddie’s space with eyes wide in salacious intrigue.
“We’ve talked about this. I never said that.”
“Tell that to your face,” he mutters, earning himself an elbow from Maddie.
“Why are you avoiding the double date?” She asks. She doesn’t ask if he is, just why he is.
“I’m not avoiding—”
“Eddie.” Her voice is soft but stern, straight out of Parenting 101.
“This would be a triple date technically,” he says lamely. But Maddie Buckley is Evan’s sister and the lame joke is a weakness he knows how to exploit. He watches her fight the smile but despite herself, the corner of her mouth flips up slightly.
Buck interrupts them with the question of ‘red or white’ and effectively dissolves the conversation for the time being.
They get halfway through dinner before the topic of Buck’s hallucination—enhanced cognition—comes up again.
“Did you ever want to be a teacher?” Natalia asks once Buck fills Eddie in on his imaginary career change.
Maddie’s topping off wine glasses as Buck scoffs, “No, but I mean I do love kids.”
She hums beside him as though she’s trying to come up with an explanation.
“Bobby says it makes sense, you know because teachers help people too. Like firefighters…”
“Bobby knows about this?”
“Dude everyone knows but you.”
“Howie.” If Eddie were a betting man (which he was briefly) he would bet that the reprimand came with a swift kick in the shin.
He can’t bring himself to look at Buck. He knows he’ll find his face soft, sad, wide-open, and honest.
“I didn’t say anything because it sucked, man. It’s better here. Everyone’s together.”
He wants to state the obvious, that Buck did say something. He said something to everyone that isn’t Eddie. His struggle to avoid sounding like he’s throwing a jealous temper tantrum must show on his face because Maddie is intercepting the conversation before Eddie can say something spectacularly stupid.
What Buck doesn’t seem to grasp is that it’s important to Eddie that he realizes—even if only subconsciously—how much he means to them; how impactful he has been on their lives.
It took him all but five minutes to put it together: in another life not meeting Buck means not meeting Carla. And without Carla, Eddie doesn’t have Christopher…his parents do. Which effectively sends them both back to Texas.
In another life, LA means nothing to them beyond being the place Shannon left them for.
And maybe Buck hadn’t said anything because he doesn’t feel comfortable claiming that space despite his subconscious doing it for him.
Doesn’t he know Eddie’s already made room? That he’s given Buck so much space in his home, his family, his life, that he’s pretty sure there’s no room left for anyone else?
Doesn’t he know that the space is his to take?
If he’s too quiet the rest of the evening, everyone is far too polite to say anything about it. And when he announces that he needs to pick up Christopher, they all seem understanding enough. As Buck physically perks up at Chris’ name it occurs to Eddie that he’s been quiet too.
Maddie stands from where they have long relocated to the living room and walks him to the front door. He says his goodnights and pats Chimney on the shoulder as he passes.
“I meant it, we love the Diazes,” Maddie smiles as they reach the entry.
“Thank you for tonight.”
“Hey,” Buck breathes, appearing suddenly behind his sister. There’s something in the air, something heavy that once was so foreign. It’s not the tension of the past: the long-forgotten distrust when they first met or the frustration during Buck’s lawsuit.
It feels like maybe they’re a little out of step. The steady metronome of ‘Buck & Eddie’ that rings around them (in footsteps and heartbeats) is off rhythm. Because right now ‘Buck & Eddie’ feels like an arrhythmia: ’Buck & Natalia & Eddie & Marisol’.
He doesn’t know what to call this weight between them. Buck’s face says the same.
Maddie squeezes Eddie’s arm one last time and rejoins Natalia and Chimney in the living room, leaving them alone at the door.
“You okay?”
“Me?” Buck’s blue eyes widen as though the question surprises him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Buck.”
“Are you mad?”
“What would I be mad about?”
“The dumb dream-world thing.”
“I think you mean the enhanced cognition?” He smirks and Buck’s shoulders instantly sag like he’s relieved to hear Eddie joke about it. “Not mad, just surprised.”
“It’s not like I told everyone but you…”
“Ya kinda did though,” he shrugs.
“Not—not intentionally. I just…it all seemed so perfect, ya know? Like Daniel was alive, my parents were—”
“Present?”
Buck huffs a laugh and shrugs like he’s not going to even try to disagree.
“But the longer I stayed there, the more it unraveled. Or….I don’t know, the less perfect it was? Doug was alive but Bobby wasn’t. So even if we managed to get Maddie away from him and set her up with Chim there would still be no Bobby.”
Eddie smiles at the notion that this ‘dream world’ is being spoken about as though it was anything other than inside Buck's own head. As though the imaginary version of the Buckleys might not be able to help Maddie out of her abusive marriage. As though they would need to scheme their way into setting her up with Chimney. But it’s the first he’s hearing of Bobby’s fate so he nods through it, careful to not interrupt Buck’s rambling now that he’s finally talking about it.
“I thought about it, I did. I thought about staying. I might not have had Bobby but I had my parents, you know? Maybe they could fill that void? Maybe that would be enough?” He shoves his hands in his pockets and hangs his head. Bobby has always stepped into the role of father for Buck. The irony of Buck questioning if his biological father could do the same if the roles were reversed is not lost on Eddie.
“But Eddie, man, there was this giant hole where you and Chris were supposed to be and there was no fix for that. And I didn’t say anything because it makes me sound so self-involved. Like I’m the reason you and Chris have a life in LA—”
“You are.”
Buck lifts his head, eyes wide in that way that’s endearing and honest and always kind of makes Eddie want to pick a fight with Philip and Margaret Buckley if he thinks about it too much. Because there are no stipulations on his love for Buck. He’s in their lives because it’s where he belongs. His turnouts carry the name of the family he was born into but the family that he chose? The family that chooses him time and time again? Buckley-Grant-Nash-Diaz just wouldn’t fit on the department-standard gear.
“No, you did that, Eddie.” The sincerity in the words makes the air feel instantly lighter.
“You helped.”
Beyond connecting him to Carla, Buck has stood beside Eddie through some of his toughest moments on and off the job. He knows that deep down Buck knows how important he is to them. Not because of what he can do for them, but because of who he is to them.
And Eddie knows this time will be no different; that they’ll snap back together the way they always have in the moments they’ve been out of step. They just need to find that rhythm again.
“Are we okay?”
“Yeah, always,” Eddie smiles, clapping Buck on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
“You should get goin’.”
He nods, squeezing Buck’s shoulder one last time before opening the door. "I'll tell Chris you said 'Hi'."
“Hey, uh," Buck stutters before taking a deep breath. "Bobby doesn’t know the details about—”
“It’s safe with me. I got your back.”
“Yeah, I know. You always do.”