Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What a hellish day.

Buck slumps on the bench in the locker room, feeling exhausted, not for the first time and not for the last, more mentally than physically.

The calls themselves haven’t been particularly challenging, though, but the atmosphere in-between them, or the way the team was allowed to interact, was more than tiring. Because, well, to put it bluntly…they weren’t allowed to interact…much.

The first change Captain Gerrard has made at the 118 was to separate or tamper with the existing core team. Hen and Chimney have been flanked by a temporary shadow ailing from Gerrard’s apparently unending pool of minions. Jim Pound is constantly making sure that the two best friends can’t even breathe without him standing, crouching or leaning between them. Not to mention the fact that he asks about their actions systematically. To ‘check that nothing is amiss’.

It's of course a barely concealed jab at Hen’s job as a paramedic, but the insults are not flying as they apparently used to, so none of them can really complain about the man. Not officially anyway.

The second change is that Ravi, understandably, has chosen to be put back on B-shift for the time being, although he promised all of them to be back as soon as Bobby is reinstated.

And, finally…

Well…

Eddie.

Eddie’s been sent to C-shift, often considered the worst of the bunch, with the miserable excuse that his ‘skills are redundant in A-shift and could be of so much more use elsewhere’.

Buck, subsequently, finds himself…well…alone.

This is complete Hell.

That isn’t taking into account the fact that, after already three weeks of this inhuman dictature, there seems to be no hope on the horizon for Bobby to get his post back. Apparently, some Councilmember is vehemently opposed to it and constantly vetoing his return.

All of this to say, that this day has so far been one of the worst in an already too long list of days spent in his lonesome or trying to act as a team with someone he doesn’t even know the name of. It’s a miracle that no one has died on their watch, yet.

After trying to hype himself up to stand and move, Buck finally manages to get to his and Eddie’s shared locker, sighing wistfully once he catches sight of the photograph that his friend has tacked there an age ago; a photo of Chris and Eddie taken on the day Chris spent at the fire station what seems like a century ago.

Buck misses Chris like a limb; but it’s even worse combined with the fact that he barely has the occasion to see Eddie as well, now. Their shifts never interlap, and they never have the same days off. In three weeks, they’ve only managed to text and, once, to FaceTime, with Buck hiding in the back of the ambulance while Hen covered for him with a story about indigestion.

He misses both his Diaz boys. Terribly. Horribly. Heartbreakingly.

He’s seldom felt so alone, actually.

He doesn’t even remember getting undressed and putting his jeans back up, lost in his gloomy thoughts as he’s been for the past minutes; but he’s shaken off these thoughts by an incoming text on his revived phone.

These days, it can only be Tommy – though it seems unlikely, Buck has had to initiate contact every time for the past month – or Eddie.

It’s with that everlasting hope that it’s the latter that he nearly rips the phone out of his jacket pocket to check the sender.

It’s not Eddie.

But it’s not Tommy, either.

Natalia [Today, 1:32pm]

Hi Buck. I know you must wonder why I’m contacting you after so long. I don’t even know if you deleted or blocked my number, but I hope you didn’t. I need to see you. There’s something important I need to talk to you about.

Text me when you’re available. Natalia

Buck’s a bit frozen in confusion, to be fair.

It’s been about six months now, that Nat and him broke up. She hasn’t reached out even once since then, and he hasn’t felt the need to either. Even though they’d parted on good terms, he wasn’t exactly eager to retain a friendship with an ex at the time, and isn’t sure he is now.

Anyway. The fact that she has reached out, now, and apparently, needs to talk to him, is intriguing.

What can she possibly have to tell him after six months?

Is it related to her job?

Has one of her weird medium clients…seen his demise?

He doesn’t know, and, perhaps if his friends were with him in the locker room right now, they’d convince him to ignore her text altogether; but he’s alone, he’s got nothing in particular to do today, and he needs human contact.

Even if it’s to spend a few awkward minutes with his ex-girlfriend.

That’s what convinces him to actually answer.

Buck [Today, 1:57pm]

hey Nat. yeah, can’t pretend i’m not confused abt ur message.

free now. wanna meet?

Natalia [Today, 1:57pm]

Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll text you the address.

Thanks, Buck.

He stares at her answer in kind of awe.

When they were dating, Nat wasn’t exactly the worst texter he knew, but he’d always have to wait at least an hour before she answered a text. And he gets it: she shuts it off at work, doesn’t check it every two seconds like he does when he’s not working. It’s probably a much healthier way to deal with phones.

Anyway. She must have been staring at her screen, waiting with bated breath.

This must be all sorts of serious.

As proven by the address she pings him a few seconds later: a coffee shop about five minutes from the station.

So she’s been waiting for him to get off work, too.

What is going on?

“Hey Buckley, what’s you got there?”

The drawl comes from his assigned temporary partner, Lowell, who’s the scum of the Earth, as far as Buck’s concerned. They don’t make a good team on calls.

He’s shaken enough by Nat’s texts and this day as a whole to actually answer the guy. His mistake.

“My ex-girlfriend texted me.”

“Oh…” the man sneers as he slams closed his locker. “So you were normal before?”

As this Buck’s head snaps to the side, glaring openly at the other man, who’s still smirking, like the entitled homophobic shit-turd he is.

He can’t get back at him. He knows he can’t. He’d get suspended quicker than it’d take him to take a swing.

At the back of his mind, he can hear Bobby whisper ‘Ignore it, kid, it’s not worth it’.

And he listens.

He ignores the man, who appears kind of disappointed this didn’t turn into a brawl; grabs his duffel, closes his locker, and braces himself to meet with Nat.

Whatever this is about will be a good distraction from this Hell he’s been forced into.

Natalia is waiting for him as he pushes the coffee shop’s door opened. She’s sitting facing the door, but looking at the hands she’s twisting in her lap while she bites her lip.

Buck has never seen her so nervous. Not even the day she sat him down and started the conversation that brought upon their break up. Retrospectively, he’s thankful she was braver than him, because he’d been thinking about putting an end to it for weeks, by then.

As he comes closer to the table she’s sat at, he tries to figure out physical changes that could explain her nervousness; but she doesn’t look ill, or thinner. In fact, apart from paleness in her cheeks, she looks the same she’s always done: pretty and overly cute.

“Hey Nat,” he greets in what he hopes is a quiet voice.

She still jumps, her dark eyes rising to him and widening in…fear? “Buck!”

He sits in front of her immediately, frowning and absent-mindedly reaching for her hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Her skittishness computes in his mind as dread, since it looks a bit like how Maddie was when Doug was still alive. Is Nat being abused by someone? Did she come to him because he’s the only person she trusts?

What. Is. Going. On?

Natalia grabs his hand, and takes a deep breath to try and defuse the tension in her shoulders. Her free hand goes to her lap again. “Nothing’s wrong, per se. You can calm down.” She smiles a bit. “It’s good to see you.”

He smiles back. “It’s good to see you too.”

“I like what you did with your hair,” she adds with a softer, almost teasing smile he answers with his own.

No matter the fact that they used to date, in the end, they were more friends than lovers. Buck’s immediately filled with a bit of regret that they didn’t keep in touch after the sadness of their break up faded, despite what he thought earlier.

“Thanks. Are you ready to tell me why you asked me here?”

She tenses up, then takes another deep breath, and chuckles without humour. “Ready is the wrong word to use… I need to tell you what’s going on, but I don’t necessarily know how.” He simply frowns in response, so she seems to brace herself again. “What do you know about pregnancy denial?”

Buck’s frown deepens. “I…read about it.” Her perfectly manicured eyebrow raises, as if to say ‘No shit’, and he carries on. “A woman could ignore that she’s pregnant, up until the birth of her child, due to hormonal or psychological reasons.” He studies Nat, wondering why she broached the subject.

She sighs. “Yeah, that’s about it. Well, you know I’ve never wanted to have kids.” One of the few reasons they broke up in the first place: he wanted a big family, she absolutely didn’t. “Well…imagine my surprise when I found out I’m twenty-six weeks along…” She bites her lip again, and looks at him as if waiting for the shoe to drop.

And it takes a while to drop.

In fact, Buck stares at her a bit unseeing while he goes through what she just said and all the implications.

Natalia is pregnant. 26 weeks along, well into her sixth month, close to the end of her second trimester.

She’s pregnant, and 26 weeks means that they were still dating at the time of conception.

He gapes, like a fish out of its bowl, and Nat takes pity on him.

“I know, it’s a bit of a shock. It took me five days to decide to tell you. The first four, I was at hospital and…not really dealing well. It’s…well…unexpected.”

“Are you alright?” he asks, because he can’t not ask. He knows she’s never wanted kids. This mustn’t be easy for her to…accept.

Nat smiles, squeezes his hand. Now that he knows, he realises her other hand is not really on her lap but more pressed to her stomach.

“You’re not showing,” he adds, a bit dumbly.

She looks down. “The doctors say that, now I know, my body will catch up. In the next few days, I should get a baby bump and…other nice little symptoms like bloating and maybe even morning sickness. Joy.”

“But…” he swallows hard. “How did you realise?”

“I thought I was having extremely bad cramps, that were infinitely more painful than the usual ones. I got into the E.R. and learnt about a baby rearranging my insides and inciting period pains. It’s not exactly Braxton-Hicks, but akin to it.”

A silence stretches. Buck isn’t fully certain he’s present in the moment. His mind is kind of disassociating, trying – and failing – to grasp the full meaning of this.

“Buck,” Nat starts again, shaking his hand to bring him back to their conversation. “You know I don’t want kids. In fact,” she purses her lips and averts her eyes, “if I hadn’t been this far along, I would have aborted the pregnancy.”

Buck knows he can’t be mad at her. It’s her body and her choice, he has absolutely no say in the matter. But a big part of him, clawing out his chest, is raging at her for thinking about terminating this pregnancy, this miracle about to happen. He silences it. He’d have no say, and it’s a good thing too.

She looks at him knowingly. “So, when it became obvious that I had to carry this little Buckley into the world, I made the next easiest decision: once I’ve given birth, you’ll become sole guardian. I’ll sign over all my parental rights to you.” She bites her lip again. “If you want it, of course.”

“If I—” he swallows around a lump in his throat. “Nat, I—I want this kid. I…” he trails off, unable to truly put words to what he’s feeling right now. All of a sudden, it’s like a wave of emotion has rolled over him like a tsunami.

Nat squeezes his hand again. “I knew you’d want…them. As I said: easy decision to make. The only thing is, well…instead of nine months, we have about three to get ready. You to become a dad, and me to…give birth.” She makes a face and, despite himself, Buck chuckles.

“We’ll manage.” He squeezes her hand too. “You said…them?”

She grins. “It’s not twins, calm down. It’s just…I know the sex but…do you want to know?”

Buck thinks about it, and then shakes his head. “I’d rather keep the surprise. Thanks for…offering.”

“Well, you know, as far as I’m concerned, I’m your surrogate.” She chuckles again. “That’s what my emergency OB-Gyn said I could call myself, for the whole thing to be…less daunting. So, I’m your surrogate. And,” she adds with a bit of a glare, “it’s the only time I’ll be carrying a baby for you, Evan Buckley.”

He chuckles back, the sound turning into a bit of a maniacal laugh. He holds onto her hand through the whole process, scared that this will have been a hallucination at the end of the day.

He’s going to be a dad.

He’s going to have a baby.

Well, Nat is going to have a baby, but…you get my drift.

Once he’s calmed down, Buck’s grin turns into a soft smile. “Do you…want me to be there for…future appointments?”

“Well, I’ve got to speed-run through delivery classes, PT and of course I’ve got the whole sonogram thing, so…yeah, you better be there!” She slaps his wrist, prompting him to laugh again.

“Nat… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buckley. You may have to pay for my therapy bills, though.” She raises a brow again, cheekily.

“That won’t be an issue,” he answers, although he has no idea what a psychotherapist charges, these days.

Come to think of it, maybe he should reach out to Dr Copeland again. This is…a bit too monumental to go through alone.

“Okay, well,” she squeezes his hand one last time before releasing it and standing from the table, “I’ll text you about the next appointment, and leave you to…yeah.” She looks a bit sympathetic, right then, as if she’s expecting him to have a breakdown anytime now.

She’s probably right to worry.

He stands too, and brings her into his arms for a quick hug. Instinctively, one of his hands drifts a bit lower on her side, closer to her belly, but doesn’t cross the line.

She smiles knowingly when they part. “Next time,” she says with a pat to his shoulder, before leaving.

And that’s when the enormity of what’s happening starts to really dawn on him.

He’s going to be a Dad.

He’s going to be a Dad.

Oh my fucking God.

As expected, he freaks out once he’s sitting in his car.

The entirety of this day seems like a dream. A weird, life-changing, terrifying dream.

Buck has always wanted kids. More than one, more than two, perhaps three or four. Children to dote on, to teach all he knows, to love and cherish the way he wasn’t.

But…NOW?

Is he ready?

Is he ever going to be ready?

Is he truly going to be a good dad? Especially when the other parent isn’t going to be in the picture?

Again, he doesn’t begrudge Nat her choices. She was clear when they were together, that she didn’t feel maternal at all and didn’t want any kids. She was even thinking about getting an operation, at that time. Evidently, she hadn’t gone along with that idea since they’d broken up.

Then again, if she had, then they’d have discovered she was expecting sooner.

Because he’s going to be a dad.

Immediately, and even as his hands start shaking on top of the steering-wheel, he imagines a tiny baby that he can hold in his hands, with dark curly hair and bright blue eyes, looking up at him in awe. His chest does a complex series of swoops, and fear gives way to…elation.

He’s going to be a dad.

He lets out a cross between a laugh and a sob, and lets that sink in.

He, Evan Buckley, is going to become someone’s dad. For real.

And in about three months’ time.

Oh dear.

As usual when something he deems momentous happens in his life, his first reflex is to call Eddie.

Today, though, the phone doesn’t even ring, and sends him right to voicemail.

Right. Eddie must be at therapy. Or…somewhere.

He tries not to freak out about that.

His second instinct would be to call Maddie, but he knows for a fact that she’s having a spa day with Linda and that her phone will be shut off and in a locker, by now.

And with those two unavailable, well…

He hopes Tommy will be as excited as him about this prospect.

He starts the car, and decides to head to his boyfriend’s place. Too giddy for words.

Chapter Text

Tommy’s apartment is just like him: practical, without fuss, without clutter. In fact, his place is all that someone would expect from a man working shifts and barely being home at all.

Buck can count the number of times he’s been here on one hand. He can also count the number of times he’s been here and Tommy was already there on the other hand.

This time, though, the man is here. He opens the door, and immediately frowns.

“Evan? I—Were we supposed to see each other today?”

See each other. Sometimes Tommy says the most romantic things.

Buck smiles, as he has done the whole way over. “No, but I’ve got news. Momentous, humongous, extraordinary news.”

Tommy lets him in, with a little pinch of his lips. “Alright then. Whatever this news is that couldn’t be said on the phone, be quick with it, there’s a game on tonight.”

Buck’s smile does falter a bit at that. His eyes trail towards the archway leading into the living-room, and sure enough, he can see the glow of the TV reflecting on the walls, although it’s apparently been put on mute.

Tommy would rather watch baseball than be excited for his boyfriend.

Go fucking figures.

“Evan?” The other man comes close to shake him off his thoughts, and chuckles a bit. “Come on, now, out with it.”

And what can he do except say it upfront?

“I’m going to be a dad.” Tommy’s already stony expression hardens further, and Buck doesn’t let him speak. “My ex-girlfriend Natalia found out she’s six months along – long story – and she’s giving full custody to me when the baby’s born, so…” He grins, can’t help it. “I’m going to be a dad!”

Tommy’s eyes go back and forth between his own, his lips still pursed. It takes him a moment to say “Congratulations, I guess.”

Buck frowns. “I…guess?”

Tommy shrugs. “I mean, good for you, but you know I don’t care for kids. So…yeah, congratulations, I guess.” He shrugs again.

Buck frowns deeper, if possible. “You don’t ‘care for kids’? Since when?”

“Since forever, Evan,” the other man sighs. “We talked about this.”

And the truth is, they did talk about this, but not in those terms. Buck had asked, at the beginning of their relationship, what Tommy’s stance on children was, telling him explicitly that he wanted several.

And Tommy had said…

“You told me you weren’t thinking about it yet. Not not ever.”

Tommy sighs again, and Buck, not for the first time since they’ve started dating, feels like a teenager about to be scolded. “Well, I’m telling you now. Not ever. I don’t…like kids. Especially new ones.”

New ones. As if babies were accessories, rather than tiny little humans come into the vast and scary world and needing to be protected, cherished, loved, taught, hugged and kissed.

Buck feels a pit setting in his stomach. “What do you mean, then?”

“Huh?” Tommy’s attention seems to go to the archway, and Buck reminds himself that this conversation is less entertaining than a group of strangers hitting a ball with a bat.

“What does me becoming a father mean for us, Tommy?”

The other man finally looks back into his eyes, his lips, once again pursed. He shrugs, again. “I mean, you do as you please, but I won’t be there for all the…” he gestures around aimlessly, but Buck supposes all this is supposed to represent him parenting.

“You won’t be there? As in, you want us to see each other only when my child is elsewhere?” The thought is preposterous. “Or you want us to break up when they are born?” Even more preposterous.

Tommy shrugs, again. Buck is two seconds away from grabbing his shoulders to stop him from doing that, because it makes him feel like this is the least interesting conversation the other man has had in his life. “Whatever you want, Evan. I just don’t want to…interact with them.”

“At all.”

“At all.”

“You don’t want to interact at all with the child of the man you are dating.”

“That’s it. You got it.” And Tommy smirks, as if he’d be pairing these words with a condescending pat to the cheek.

Buck has had enough.

He sees red creep in the corner of his vision.

“Okay, well, then, let me make it even easier for you, then, Tommy. We are done. Over. I’m breaking up with you. Right now.”

The man…wait for it…shrugs. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s…” Buck’s eyes are about to bulge out of his skull. “That’s all that you feel about this? About us breaking up?”

“I mean, it was fun while it lasted.” Tommy’s eyes, once again, go to the archway. When he looks back at Buck, he looks bored. “Are you done? Because…” he points at the living-room.

Buck is quite certain that smoke is about to come out of his ears.

He stomps his way back to the front door. “I’m done. I should have been done a while ago, actually. Oh, and, for the record,” he whirls around, and Tommy gives him one last sliver of his precious attention, “my name, is Buck.” Oh no, the man is about to…

He shrugs. “Okay, Evan.”

Buck grits his teeth, opens the door. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

And then he’s out of this man’s life. For good.

When he steps inside the loft a few dozen minutes later, Buck can’t say he’s spiralling, per se, but he’s also not not spiralling.

To be more precise, he steps inside the loft and immediately sees everything that’s wrong about the place, when a baby is supposed to be living here in a few weeks’ time. The stairs are a tripping hazard as is; he doesn’t have a tub in the bathroom for baths, his wash basin is too small even for a newborn – curse the modern style and the ‘flat’ sinks, honestly – and of course…there’s no second bedroom.

He has to move.

That’s one thing on a list he’s sure is going to grow larger every day, or perhaps every time he stops to think about it.

He’s going to become a dad.

Everything is going to change.

And that’s perhaps when he starts really losing his shit.

And now, he needs Maddie.

He briefly considers calling her, but telling her she’s going to become an auntie isn’t something one tells their sister on the phone, so instead, he switches to their shared text messages, hoping she’s done with her girl-time with Linda.

And he types a message. And deletes it. And types another. And deletes that one too.

Because, well… There’s the Chimney of it all. And he’d rather have his shit together before the rest of the 118 knows about this.

Not to mention the fact that Eddie doesn’t know yet, and Buck would kill Chim if he told the man before he did.

So, well…he kinda ‘fakes’ an emergency, instead.

Buck [Today, 4:56pm]

Mads, can you please come over? I need help.

Maddie  [Today, 5:17pm]

OMW

As expected, Maddie’s reaction is a combination of elation and fury.

Elation because she’s always known how much Buck has longed for a family of his own, even if, up to this point, it hadn’t been a concrete thought, for obvious reasons having to do with not being in a serious and committed relationship.

And that brings us to fury. Because as much as Maddie apparently has never thought his fling with Tommy would last – he has to question her about that at a later date – she resents the way he treated Buck throughout their relationship but especially today.

“That…ugly-faced, boring, entitled, goddamn…ASSHOLE!” she shrieks at one point, almost stunning Buck at her use of profanity. Not that his sister can’t be foul-mouthed when she chooses to be – he dares anyone to come less than two feet from her when she’s watching football on TV – but since Jee-Yun, she’s been…policing her words more often than not.

But as much as his sister is cussing, pacing, fists closed tight at her sides, almost physically fuming from the top of her head as she defends his honour and curses his ex-boyfriend six ways to Sunday, Buck can’t help but feel like…maybe…it’s all a bit unfair to Tommy. If the man has never wanted children, why would he…force his hand?

Was he wrong to be so angry?

No, he wasn’t.

He shakes his self-deprecating thoughts off. Tommy is an asshole, Maddie’s right. Even if today had gone alright, he would have eventually opened his eyes on the multitudes of issues in their ‘relationship’. He even doubts he can use the word to describe what they’ve shared for a few months.

Ugh. Good riddance, honestly. Now he can eat what he wants when he wants, wear what he wants, laugh at what he wants, and go on whatever info dump he wants. And no one will make him feel like an immature manchild.

No one. Ever again.

“Okay,” Maddie finally says as she calms down and comes to sit on the lumpy couch he’d found at a garage sale and really can’t wait to throw out it’s so uncomfortable. She brings an arm around his shoulders and hugs him to her side. “First thing to do, really, is to find a new place. You can’t keep living here. Perhaps for the baby’s first few weeks, but no more. Then, we’ll have to read about partial pregnancy denial, because Natalia is bound to go through things I haven’t, and you need to be prepared. And we have to look through prenatal courses, too. I’ll have to check what paraphernalia I still have from Jee, so that you don’t need to buy everything.” She leans her head back and squeezes her eyes closed. “I’m staying here tonight. I’d bring you home with me, but Howie will ask questions.” She smiles a bit. “You won’t sleep a wink and I don’t want you going on a cleaning rampage in the middle of the night when you’ve got an early shift.”

He chuckles wistfully. Can’t really stop himself. “Chim will have to know eventually.”

Maddie straightens her neck and looks at him, her smile softening. “You’re going to be a Dad, Evan.” She chuckles too. “I’m gonna be an Aunt.”

He mirrors her smile, and feels tears prick his eyes a little. “I’m going to become a father.”

She snorts, then. “Don’t tell Eddie that.” He raises a brow, so she elaborates. “Don’t use the word ‘become’ when talking about being a father. You’re already a father. To Christopher.”

Oh, Chris…

Buck misses him like half of his heart has been torn out of his chest and lost far away, unattainable, too far to reach.

“I…” he thinks about denying being a father figure to the now teenager, but he can’t deny it anymore. Not when Eddie basically told him he was. Begged him to help as a parent would. “He’s not talking to me.”

He’s tried, since Chris left. Sent a few texts, to ask how he was or talk about the new baby animals at the zoo or something he’d learnt about. Every time, the word ‘read’ taunted him and glared at him from the screen of his phone.

Maddie squeezes his shoulder again. “Well, at thirteen, we all tend to ignore our parents when we’re angry with them.” As if Chris’s silence is proof that he sees Buck as a father figure too.

Perhaps it is…

So, he leans into his sister, and lets the thoughts of the day ebb and flow through him.

He’s going to be a Dad, but he’s already one…kind of.

Chapter Text

The following day, Buck is very close to calling in sick.

Of course, he isn’t sick. But he has a lot to think about right now, and honestly, being in the vicinity of his interim, racist, misogynistic and homophobic captain, doesn’t appeal right this moment.

Anyway, he doesn’t call in sick, hugs Maddie goodbye and accepts about a half-dozen kisses to his cheeks and birthmark, and goes into work.

Walking inside the station feels like walking up to the gallows, for some reason. He strangely feels like he has to take everything around him in, because it could be the last time he ever sees it all. It’s stupid and irrational, because Gerrard can’t do anything about him becoming a father; but a small part of him thinks the man could find a walkaround excuse to suspend him for it anyway.

He clutches his reusable bottle closer to his chest as he heads for the locker-room. Maddie made him a good batch of ginger and lemon tea this morning, after he woke up with a case of equally irrational nausea. Thankfully, it does help a lot, and after all, it’s a good source of vitamins. Win-win situation.

“Hey,” comes a familiar and soothing voice as soon as he enters the lockers.

He’s surprised to see Eddie, since their shifts never coincide lately, and he almost throws himself at his friend, so happy he is to see him.

He still goes to stand as close as he can, as close as he always does. His and Eddie’s shoes are nearly touching, and those familiar and warm brown eyes glint with mirth as Eddie finishes buttoning his shirt – which should be illegal, the man should have to walk shirtless always, in Buck’s opinion.

Eddie is sporting a healthy amount of stubble, nearly turning into a beard. He has been for a while, and at first, Buck thought it was a sign of depression; but Eddie, while still obviously depressed by his son leaving, had reassured him that he only wanted to try something different.

And, well, everything suits Eddie. It’s absolutely unfair.

“Hey,” he finally answers with what he’s certain is a stupid giddy smile. His stomach swoops as he thinks about telling Eddie his big news. This is the moment. This is when he tells his best friend about the greatest piece of information he’s ever received.

He opens his mouth to tell him, but Chim comes in the locker-room at that moment, shattering their bubble with a loud and painful yawn.

“Oh, hi, Eddie,” the man manages between two bouts of nearly disjointing his jaw.

“You okay there, Chim?” Eddie asks, tilting his head around Buck’s shoulder to look at their friend.

Chimney opens the wrong locker, grabs a shirt that’s not his, realises halfway through pulling it over his head, and tears it off again with a defeated sigh. “I didn’t really sleep last night. Thanks for that, Buck, by the way.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Buck?”

He looks between his best friend and his brother-in-law and bites his lip. “Maddie spent the night.” He knows Eddie is going to question him, and honestly, he would tell him the truth, but some part of him wants the man to learn before the rest of the 118. He feels like it’s important that he does.

So he changes gears, and uses the other truthful piece of information about his life lately, which would be a good enough excuse for his sister to spend the night.

“I broke up with Tommy last night.”

Eddie’s eyes widen; while Chim seems to choke on a laugh.

“Well it’s about damn time,” he says while finally putting on his work shirt. “I was tired of having to downplay my own opinions on the man. He’s such a douche.”

That’s news to Buck. Not that Tommy isn’t…a perfect human, but that Chimney didn’t talk candidly about him to Buck. It…hurts, somehow.

“You okay?” Eddie’s hand finds its way on his shoulder, his thumb digging into the space above his collarbone, the space that Buck is two seconds away from dubbing ‘Eddie’s Spot’.

He stares into those brown eyes crinkling with worry. “I’m…good.” He bites his lip again. “You know, you can remain friends. With Tommy. If you want.”

Eddie frowns. “Uh, okay?” The two men had rekindled somewhat of a tense friendship after a few months of Buck and Tommy dating. He still doesn’t know why Eddie grew distant at first, but as far as he’s concerned, Eddie being able to do what he likes with other people is good. He’s…not as…not okay about it as he used to be.

Still, somehow, Tommy and him not being together anymore…makes it all…weird.

“I mean,” he chuckles a bit, “I know you are excited about that fight he got tickets for.” Tommy has gotten sought-after tickets to a fight or other that’s happening in Phoenix in a few days’ time. Eddie was ecstatic about it when he told Buck. On the phone. Since they barely see each other now.

The other man smiles a bit. “I don’t care about that. Not if you want me to stop being his friend.” Even saying the word seems painful, bizarrely enough.

Buck shakes his head. “No, no, enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

They smile at each other, basking in each other’s presence for the first time in what feels like forever.

Eddie seems on the brink of saying something else, but then, the dreaded voice of Captain Gerrard shoots through the room like a cannonball.

“Buckley! You’re not paid to be chummy! Get your ass up here for briefing! Diaz, your shift is over, get out of my station.”

They share one last look, one that tells of a million ways they wish they could kill that horrendous man.

Alas, they can’t.

So Eddie squeezes Buck’s shoulder, grabs his bag, and leaves.

And Buck watches him leave, wondering when he’ll have another chance to talk face-to-face about this tiny little thing.

This tiny little thing currently brewing inside Natalia, and who will soon call him ‘Dad’.

The following two shifts are a bit q-word. And maybe some other firefighter would find it nice, to have a calmer shift, less crazy calls, more time to play pool or do inventory or rest, but Buck, right now, would give anything to have something to think about other than his impending fatherhood.

Not to be.

For the next four days, he and Eddie don’t see each other, or truly have time to talk via text, either. It’s infuriating, really. To have such an important thing to tell him, and no opportunity to do so.

Maddie has to keep the secret from Chim until he tells the team, too, and that brings another can of guilty worms.

Thankfully, on the fifth day, Nat brings the aforementioned necessary distraction. Somehow.

Natalia [Today, 8:22 am]

Can you still make the appointment?

Buck [Today, 8:30 am]

told u I’d be there

Natalia [Today, 8:31 am]

Good. Otherwise, I’ll give your baby to someone else.

He laughs as he reads her answer.

Lately, she’s been a bit cheekier than she used to be even when they dated. They have crossed into a weird, jokey kind of friendship that is still very much awkward in person, but funny on screen.

Today is the first time that Buck will be able to see his child on a sonogram, and to say that he’s excited is a bit of an understatement. He’s buzzing out of his skin with impatience, and was unable to eat any kind of breakfast, which means that his blood is currently 99% coffee and 1% piece of leftover omelette from last night.

The appointment is at 10, so obviously he’s there at 9:30, but Nat, when she arrives at 9:50, isn’t even surprised to see him standing by the front doors, hands in his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting too much. The hem of his sweater is already frilling enough.

“Ready?” she asks after a small hug.

Buck nods with a silly grin, and they get in.

Unsurprisingly, the doctor is late, as most specialists are, apparently. They are shown to a welcoming but a bit clinical waiting room, the only two occupants so far; and despite the impressive amount of magazines provided on the table, they both decide to scroll on their phones instead.

Nat even calls a client to talk about a ceremony she’s hosting later this week; while Buck looks at dog videos on Instagram. After checking that Chris hasn’t posted anything new, of course. (He hasn’t.)

He’s smiling at a husky trying to howl like the two wolves it’s been raised with when a text comes in.

When he sees the sender, his smile fades.

Tommy [Today, 10:24 am]

Hey. Found some t-shirts of yours in the apartment. Want them back?

Buck hasn’t left much at Tommy’s from their failed relationship. To be fair, he hadn’t been around there enough for there to be a lot to leave. He didn’t even have a toothbrush. He has a toothbrush at Eddie’s, and didn’t have one at his boyfriend’s. Ugh.

Those t-shirts he left are those he wore the few times he stayed the night, he supposes. They’re not of any sentimental value. In fact, he’d even say they lost any kind of sentimental value the day they became associated with Tommy Kinard.

So, no, he doesn’t want them back. So he says so, and then, deletes Tommy’s contact from his phone. Blocks him for good measure.

“You okay?”

He looks at Natalia, who hung up from her client, obviously, and who’s looking at him with a small frown. “Uh, yeah. It was my ex. My ex-boyfriend.”

Her dark eyes widen. “Your ex-boyfriend?” She smiles, then frowns again. “You and Eddie didn’t work out?” She seems absolutely baffled.

Buck…is a bit…lost. “Uh, I wasn’t dating Eddie.”

“Oh.” She purses her lips, and shrugs. “Sorry. Thought… Well, nevermind.”

He wants to tell her that it does matter what she thought, and he wants to know what she thought, but the nurse comes to take them to the doctor’s office, so he can’t.

And…well…he’s about to see his baby for the first time, so forgive him for forgetting about that conversation afterwards…

Dr Gupta is a very jovial, middle-aged woman with a round face and a crooked smile. Her bright fuchsia eyeshadow matches her nails as she shakes Nat’s hand, then Buck’s.

“This is Dad, I presume?” she asks with just a pinch of an accent.

He smiles. “Yes, that’s me.” He’s giddy about it, truly. “I’m Buck.”

“Nice to meet you,” she answers with a knowing smile. “Well, sit down, I have a few questions before we get to the long-awaited ultrasound.” She surely knows her audience.

They start with basic questions about their own health, medical problems in the immediate family, so on. Buck is worried for all of two seconds when he tells Dr Gupta about his brother’s infantile leukaemia, but she shuts those worries down quickly. Which helps him breathe a bit better.

“It sounds like your brother had a genetic disease. It can easily be checked in your baby’s DNA if you wish, but the odds are very low.”

Very low isn’t zero, but he’ll take it.

Once she seems satisfied about the file they all filled together, the doc stands from the desk and directs them to the hospital bed resting against the opposite wall. “Okay, then, Mom, let’s lie down and lift that shirt for me, please.”

Nat freezes at the edge of the bed. “Oh, I’m not…” she chuckles awkwardly. “I’m not going to be ‘Mom’. I’m…” she looks at Buck, “I’m the surrogate.”

“Oh!” Dr Gupta’s eyes widen a bit. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I apologize, Miss Natalia. Please lie down and lift your shirt.”

Buck expects questions about the ‘surrogacy’, since that’s what Nat has decided to call it – and really, it’s not a bad idea, it’s the closest thing to the truth and, well, if it helps her cope, he’s okay with it – but their so-far very kind doctor doesn’t even bat an eye.

“Now, you’ve told me about the partial pregnancy denial. So it might be a bit of a shock, at first,” she addresses Nat exclusively. “Normally, an expecting mother would have time to prepare to hear a heartbeat, and see the shape of a head, hands, toes, etc. But…you’re already far along, so all of that is going to come at once. If, at any point, you feel like you need to stop; need to breathe; if you feel like you might have a panic attack, that’s all very normal, and you need to tell me at once. This is a safe place, alright?”

Nat nods, and despite her apparent indifference, Buck can tell she’s hiding a bit of nerves. At the E.R. she already heard the heartbeat, apparently, but hasn’t seen much.

He can’t imagine what it must be like to see a whole ass human inside of you like that, without…warning. It must be like those guys in Alien. Scary.

Nat lies back and lifts her shirt a little, which reveals a medium-sized bump that he’s immediately zeroed on.

“You have a bump!” he says with an awed smile.

Dr Gupta chuckles. “She sure does. And I expect it’ll grow to its full size in maximum two weeks’ time. I can already tell that Baby is taking a more comfortable position. I’d say they’re probably sitting down right now. Let’s check, shall we?” She stares pointedly at Natalia until she understands it’s actually a question, and when she’s ready, she nods.

She also reaches for Buck’s hand, though, and he tries to exude as much calmness as he can, while also buzzing with nerves.

The monitor whirs to life and he jumps a bit, but then, as Dr Gupta presses a rod on Nat’s belly, a strange whoosh in a quick rhythm starts echoing around the room.

“Is that—?” he asks, awed.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the doc answers. “It’s healthy. Let’s look for Baby.”

She toys with the rod a bit, pressing it in different places on Nat’s stomach, until a blur appears, a blur that soon starts showing a head, a hand, and two tiny feet.

Buck nearly falls to his knees. His own heart seems to beat as fast as his baby there on the screen.

That’s his baby, on the screen.

That’s his baby, on the screen.

“Ah, we’ve got someone who likes to suckle,” the doc chuckles. “They are sucking on their thumb,” she points at the screen, and yes, the second hand is a bit hidden because Baby Buckley is currently shoving not one, but what looks like two digits in their mouth.

Buck won’t say that the oral fixation is hereditary, but he thinks it.

Nat then pipes up, before Dr Gupta tries to move to another angle, “Buck doesn’t want to know the sex yet.”

“Oh, fine then.” The doc stops moving and keeps the current position of the rod. “Everything seems in order here.”

“Everything okay?” Buck finally asks, his voice a bit croaky. “They’re…all there?”

Dr Gupta looks at him with a frown, something suddenly judgmental in her gaze.

And he realises what that sounded like, so he backpedals quickly.

“My best friend’s son has C.P. I’d just want to be prepared, if my child has…something special to take care of.”

Her gaze softens. “Oh, I see. Well, cerebral palsy is a result of a difficult birth, and other factors. But as far as Down Syndrome and other genetic diseases that can be seen before birth, as I said earlier, we can detect with a blood-sample. But from this end, your baby appears to have no visible issues.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t sigh in relief, because he meant it: no matter if his baby has a genetic disorder, he just wants to be prepared for it and to provide the best from the start.

From then, Dr Gupta moves the screen away from them to continue her inspection where Buck would see the sex of the baby, and then, she hands Nat some tissues to wipe her stomach with and invites them back to the desk.

They get another appointment for two weeks later, considering the situation, but she’s adamant that everything is as it should be.

“Are you seeing a therapist, Miss Natalia?” she ends with, as she leads them back to the door.

Nat nods. “Yes, it…was highly recommended.”

“Good. Continue going until after the birth. A birth mother, surrogate or not, needs all the pampering in the world after going through pregnancy and birth. We too often forget to take care of our mental health, and in your case, it’s even more important. Promise me?”

She captures Nat’s hand that she was shaking, and stares pointedly again.

Nat smiles. “I promise.”

“Good, and Dad?” she turns to Buck, and shakes his own hand, “Stop catastrophizing. Drink some tea for me tonight, and enjoy the first photoshoot of Baby Buckley.”

He pats the pocket where he placed the copies of the sonogram, already picturing them on his fridge.

He smiles, thanks the doc again, and he and Nat leave the office.

She has to go to work, but they take time for a quick coffee – decaffeinated for her, obviously – at a nearby bar.

Buck [Today, 6:48pm]

have fun 2nite. 😉

Eddie [Today, 6:48pm]

thx man. 😊

don’t stay up all night watching ur jedi show.

Buck [Today, 6:50pm]

won’t. promise.

Eddie unsurprisingly doesn’t answer his last message, since he’s surely already in the air in Tommy’s helicopter, heading for Phoenix, Arizona.

He’s a bit bummed that the only night off they had in common had to be sacrificed for muay-thaï, but, oh well… If Eddie’s happy, he’s…happy.

He’s placed the ultrasound on the coffee table, and wisely chose not to watch the latest ‘Jedi show’, because every thirty seconds or so, he finds himself grabbing the piece of paper, and staring.

He knows it’s stupid to try and find familiar features in a foetus, but he could swear that Baby Buckley has Maddie’s nose. And maybe his feet. And…maybe Nat’s ears?

He’s stupid.

So he puts the paper down again, tries to focus on the documentary on sea otters he’d decided to watch; and picks up the paper again a few seconds later.

He’s stupid. As mentioned before.

He’s also and most importantly already stupid in love with his child-to-be.

The otters are swimming peacefully around a fjord somewhere, Buck doesn’t really know because he’s been obsessively counting Baby Buckley’s toes for the past ten minutes, when his front door literally slams open.

He jumps to his feet, ready to fight – or to sleepily try to defend himself, really – when the same intruder closes the door, braces himself on it, and turns to face him.

The intruder, of course, is Eddie. Eddie who’s supposed to be flying to another state right now, being all happy and friendly with Buck’s douchebag of an ex. Eddie, who’s decidedly not flying to Arizona right now. Eddie, who’s…got a moustache?

Buck’s brain seems to reboot at that.

It’s the sort of moustache that Freddie Mercury would have been proud of. A vintage piece of face furniture that should be ugly, but on Eddie, is anything but.

Oh, damn.

He looks…edible.

That, and the swoop of his hair that always looks so soft freed of the product he uses at work, makes Buck’s insides…play some sort of disturbing jig.

He’s just now realised that the man has closed the distance between them, entranced as he is by his hotter-than-the-sun appearance, when Eddie shoves him.

And Buck blinks back to reality. With some difficulty.

“—you didn’t tell me!” the other man finishes to shout.

Buck is dumb enough to tilt his head with a moronic “Huh?” that makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You’ve got a moustache.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and lose a bit of the fire they had a few seconds prior. “I…do.”

“It looks good.”

“…thank you.” Eddie seems torn between looking a bit proud and carrying on being angry. Which, Buck still doesn’t know why he’s angry, and not with Tommy right now.

So, he asks. “Why aren’t you heading to Phoenix to watch half-naked men wrestle each other sweatily?”

Oh, that makes the fire come back to Eddie’s eyes. And amps up the temperature in Buck’s loft, somehow. “You have kept something very important from me.” He crosses his arms, and Buck tries to focus on the conversation and not the combo ‘moustache-muscly arms-brown fiery eyes-soft swoopy hair’ that is reducing his brain to mush.

“I…have?” He tries to rack his mind for something Eddie might have found out that Buck hasn’t told him.

I mean, there’s the obvious thing, but how could Eddie have--?

The man answers his silent enquiry, as usual, reading him like a book. “We were about to board his stupid helicopter when Tommy said something very interesting about your breakup. Then proceeded to say something very stupid.”

Buck is intrigued.

Eddie, once again, doesn’t need him to ask. “He told me my best friend in the whole world is about to have a child with his ex-girlfriend. And he hasn’t told me!” His eyes turn more blazing than fiery. “He also said he was kinda bummed you broke up with him because he’s never hooked up with a ‘real’ Daddy before.” He makes a face that Buck is sure he must be mirroring, some cross between anger and disgust. “I…kinda had to punch him for that.”

“You did?!” Buck is halfway through reaching for Eddie’s dominant hand to check, but the other man stops him with a glare.

“Don’t change the subject. Natalia is expecting and you didn’t tell me?!”

Buck bites his lip, sheepish. “I…didn’t want to tell you on the phone, but we haven’t seen each other face-to-face long enough lately to have this conversation.”

Eddie’s gaze softens, the blaze turning into burning embers. “So you wanted to tell me?”

“Of course I wanted to tell you!” Buck is the one getting riled up now. “I asked Maddie not to tell Chimney because I wanted to tell you first! Actually, I wanted you to be the first first to know, but when Nat and I spoke, you were unavailable!”

Eddie smiles. It’s…fond.

And his hand finds its spot on Buck’s shoulder. Eddie’s Spot. It’s official.

“I’d have been the first first? Before your sister?” Buck doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to, he’s sure his shy little smile is speaking volumes enough. Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s sit down, and you better tell me everything.”

So they do, and he does.

Eddie pipes up at various moments, asking questions, expressing worry for Natalia, reassuring Buck about some trivial worries he has. For those blessed moments, as they talk about Baby Buckley, who Eddie decides to call Sprout because they look tall already, in his opinion, he looks less tired, less haunted. He almost looks as he always does.

They’re sitting on the couch, later, resting their heads on the back of it, having had their fill of baby questions, when Buck has some sort of epiphany that almost sends him spiralling again.

He sits up, startling Eddie, who looked about to zone off. “Oh my God! Christopher! I’ve got to tell Christopher!”

Eddie looks at him with another fond smile. “Of course you do.”

“But, Eds…” Buck gestures frantically, half out of his mind, “he’s not speaking to me!”

The other man sits up too, and claps a hand on his thigh to calm him down. “He will if you tell him it’s important. I know it.”

It’s the conviction in his voice, the unwavering faith he has in his son’s affections for Buck, that manages to stop him from fully spiralling.

They spend the following twenty minutes discussing how to tell a thirteen-year-old about an accidental pregnancy doubled with pregnancy denial; and they both fall asleep on Buck’s lumpy couch.

Who cares about sore backs and necks, after all?

Chapter Text

Buck [Mon. 08/19, 3:01pm]

hey chris. i know u don’t want 2 talk 2 me right now, but i’ve got smth important 2 talk 2 u abt.

The message is tagged as ‘read’, but Chris hasn’t answered yet. It’s been four days.

Buck is feeling the boy’s loss more and more these days, between feeling excited for a new chapter and the page that’s sorely missing from his life-book. Chris is visibly still angry with him – for what? standing with his father? he could swear he didn’t play devil’s advocate that day! – and it feels like a knife to the gut each time he reminds himself that the little sunshine he’s come to love so dearly is thousands of miles away, and ignoring him.

He's on cleaning duty today, so he’s scrubbing away at the truck, making it shine while his thoughts roam. He’s got his phone on him, just in case, despite not really being allowed – there’s no official rule about it, Gerrard just doesn’t want them being able to communicate with each other – and he can’t help but check with a pang of hope each time he’s got a notification coming in.

This time, though, the phone vibrates, and it’s not a text. It’s a call.

And when he sees the name on the screen, his mind immediately jumps to horrible conclusions.

He takes it, and doesn’t care if his voice is too loud in his worry.

“Nat? Everything okay?”

He can hear what suspiciously sounds like whimpers on the other side of the line. That, and sobs.

He truly panics, then. “Nat! Answer me!”

Another sob, and a tinny voice that croaks “Buck…” She takes a difficult breath then another. “I…need you.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are you having contractions?” He’s going through an increasingly worrying list of possibilities in his head, one that culminates in Natalia in her kitchen bleeding to death and the baby dying.

She breathes hard again. “Panic…attack,” she manages to say.

Okay. Less worrying than a miscarriage; but still very dangerous for a pregnant woman.

“Alright, are you home?” she hums in assent. “Stay on the line. I’m coming.” He keeps the phone glued to his ear, and runs upstairs to tell his Captain he’s got to leave for an emergency.

He finds Gerrard talking with Pound, their mirror smirks enough for him to almost break in hives. Through the phone, Nat still struggles to calm down, and she continues hitching through sobs.

“Captain,” he says, steeling his voice, “I need to go. Personal emergency.”

Gerrard turns his icy stare to him, and crosses his arms. “Having that phone on you could warrant a suspension, Buckley. Shut that off, and go back to work.”

He grits his teeth. “I have to go, Sir.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” The man takes a few paces in his direction “Go back to work, or you’re suspended without pay. Now.”

Buck wants nothing more than to punch the man in the nose, and maybe kick him in the ribs for good measure. But he can’t, and Natalia is still in distress. Which means his child is more than possibly in distress too. “I have the right to leave for emergencies, Sir.”

Gerrard is nearly in his face, right now. “I don’t care if your mother is dying, Buckley, you’re not leaving.” And he promptly smacks his phone out of his hand.

It clatters to the floor, and Buck hears it breaking.

Pound snickers, and Gerrard smirks, smug, entitled and the most disgusting piece of shit the Earth has ever known. “Go back to work, Buckley. Last chance.”

Buck turns and runs downstairs.

He doesn’t head back to his scrubbing, though, no.

Time is of the essence.

He can’t really afford getting suspended without pay, not with a kid on the way; but he can ask for help.

He heads for the lockers and opens Chim’s. The man won’t begrudge him borrowing his phone; and besides, he hasn’t changed his passcode in ages so it’s his fault, really, if Buck simply has to punch in Jee’s birth date and access the homepage. Chim seriously needs to enable emergency calls.

He dials 9-1-1 without hesitation, and goes to lock himself in the bathroom to avoid his douche captain. Thankfully, Gerrard must not imagine he’d take someone else’s phone for this, so he’s left alone at first. Small mercies.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

Buck has never been happier to hear Josh’s voice in his life. “Josh, it’s Buck. You have to send an ambulance to…” he rakes his mind for Nat’s address, and thanks the heavens she hasn’t moved since they broke up. “My ex-girlfriend. She’s six months pregnant, partial pregnancy denial, she’s having a panic attack.”

Josh is asking additional questions, but is already dispatching a team to Nat’s flat. Buck tries to breathe easier.

And the door slams open, before someone starts pounding on the locked stall door.

“Buckley! I warned you! You’re suspended, and good luck getting your job back!”

He ignores Gerrard and his fists, and focuses on the most important: Josh, and Nat.

“Buck? Do you know if Miss Dollenmeyer is taking any medication at the moment?”

“No, I’m…not sure, but I don’t think so.” He squeezes his eyes closed. “Please, Josh, it’s my baby… Tell me they’re alright. Please.”

Josh’s “The team is two minutes out. I’ll stay on the line,” is nearly muffled by Gerrard’s next bout of hits, and his next bout of threats, too.

“Buckley, I don’t give a rat’s ass about you having a baby fairy, get out of there right now, get your things and get out of my station!”

Buck has started silently crying, now.

He hears Hen and Chim, in the distance. Hen is shouting, but he can’t hear what she’s saying.

Josh’s voice is nearly drowned in the ambient noise, but he can hear his next question. And it’s cutting through him like a knife, because Josh Russo has never sounded colder in their acquaintance. Ever.

“Buck, is your Captain forbidding you from going to Miss Dollenmeyer’s help? Forbidding you from helping your unborn child?”

Buck nearly sobs. “Yes, he is.”

“The team’s on site. She’s being taken care of. You can go to Cedars Sinai.”

“Thanks, Josh. So much.” He hangs up.

Gerrard stops trying to kick in the door.

The bell rings.

“Alright, Buckley, you’re safe for now. But you better be gone when we’re back, or you’ll regret it.”

He hears the bathroom door slam back close, and he can breathe.

Oh, you bet he won’t be there when they come back from whatever call.

He picks himself up, steels himself, and hurries out, to put Chim’s phone back in his locker, grab his own things, and drive to the hospital.

Fuck Gerrard.

Sprout is more important. Than anything.

When he gets to the E.R., Nat is resting in a bed, her belly – growing by the day – naked to the air, several electrodes placed on top of it. She’s also got an oxygen mask on her face, but the nurse who showed him where she is sleeping told him nothing was amiss: she simply is resting.

He sits at her side, and listens to Sprout’s steady heartbeat through the monitor.

Impulsively, he reaches for the distended skin of Natalia’s stomach, and leaves his hand there, trying to feel, or perhaps to send some kind of message to the life growing there.

“They moved.”

Nat’s voice is faint, tired. Buck looks up at her, then back at his hand, unprompted, unwelcome, on her skin. He whips it back as if burnt. “I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I didn’t ask you beforehand.”

She smiles through the oxygen mask. “Buck, it’s your baby. Go on. They might move again.”

He puts his hand back, entranced. “Is that…” he gulps. “Is that what happened?”

She sighs, and goes to rest her hand on top of his. She tugs the mask away for a bit, but her constants aren’t anywhere near worrying, so he doesn’t force her to put it back on. “I…felt something. At first, it was just a flutter, the kind of thing you might feel when you’re growing hungry. But then it was more pressure, and…well…I understood it was a kick. And…” she starts panting a bit.

Buck puts his free hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t talk about it if it’s distressing. I get it.”

Well, he ‘gets it’. He doesn’t, really, but he understands.

In a normal pregnancy, feeling the baby move is usually the thing that puts the baby into the realm of the real. It’s tangible; it’s there, and there’s proof that can be felt rather than seen on a screen.

In Nat’s case, he can’t imagine what it must have felt like, only a week after learning she’s pregnant at all. It must have been akin to feeling an alien body forcing itself through her, or something. He keeps picturing Alien, and keeps failing to find another, less insulting analogy.

She sighs again. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he means it with his whole chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“Your boss sounded like a damn right prick.” She chuckles a bit, a wheeze of a laugh, really. “You used to talk about him as if he shat rainbows.”

He laughs too. “That was Bobby. This is…not Bobby.”

“There’s a story there,” she prompts.

“You should rest.”

“Resting doesn’t mean sleeping, Buckley. Tell me about your new douchey Captain.”

He smiles, brings the chair closer to the bed so that he can be more comfortable and continue touching her bump, and he starts talking.

Natalia is sent home the following day, after an intensive therapy session. Since she lives quite far from Buck, she promises to have her kindest neighbour, Jacqueline, check on her every morning and every evening for the time-being. It puts him at ease, at least.

But, well, since he’s suspended, he’s got little else to do than pester her with hundreds of messages a day anyway once he’s bought a refurbished phone and put his Sim card in.

Her use of emojis becomes steadily cruder, for some reason.

In the meantime, he tries – and fails – to find a solution to his living problems. Not that there’s a problem with his loft right now, but obviously, as stated before, this isn’t the kind of place one bring a newborn to to live full time. He can get away with having Jee for a night or two, but he didn’t have her around for sleepovers until she was almost a year old. Baby Sprout is going to be a tenant pretty much immediately.

So, he’s looking through the non-extensive list of L.A’s possible rentals or buys, with two bedrooms and maybe not a staircase as hazardous as his current one.

Problem is? He’s not made of money, despite what some might think. And he’s currently under suspension, which means even less money, and he kinda needs that money, not only for a deposit, but also as a fine for potentially breaking his lease early; and of course, for all things baby-related, which he has to make a list of ASAP.

He’s losing his mind, really.

Having nothing else to distract him from countless pages of real estate online, he’s jumping at any possible excuse to do something else.

He goes grocery shopping every day until he reasons that it’s even worse for his poor wallet; and he pesters his sister enough that at one point, she puts him on mute. Maddie, putting him on mute.

Except sometime the fourth day after his suspension.

He’s still waiting impatiently for anything from Christopher, but holds on very little hope at this point, when the Beach Boys’ ‘Good Vibrations’ announce a call from the aforementioned Maddie.

“Mads?” he takes it after one ring – he’s so bored he was two minutes away from going on a deep dive on TikTok. He hates TikTok.

“Evan. Get to the station, now.”

“What? Why? I’m suspended.”

“Trust me, you’ll want to be there. So get in your car, and…hurry. Not too fast, but fast enough. Go.” And she hangs up.

And, well, she’s provided the distraction he was sorely missing, so who is he to disobey?

He grabs his keys and nearly flies down the stairs.

He’s halfway to the 118 when he realises he’s still wearing the hoodie he slept in, which has a salsa sauce stain on it.

Oh, well…

There are several more vehicles in the parking lot than he’s used to when he arrives. One of those is a news’ channel van – thankfully not Taylor’s – and he can see a journalist and a cameraman hovering near the bay doors.

They try to stop him to ask about what’s happening, but he literally has no idea, so they let him pass with a disappointed stare.

The first person he spots once he rounds the truck is Eddie.

He makes a bee-line for him and claps a hand on his shoulder-blade.

Eddie’s got his arms crossed, and is still sporting that blasted moustache that Buck hates to love; but he smiles at him as a greeting, before looking down at his attire.

“I thought you threw that one out after Chris spilled on it.”

Buck pouts a bit. “But it’s comfy…”

Eddie chuckles before tilting his head towards the stairs. “Know what this is about? Josh didn’t say, just asked me to come.”

“You and Josh are on speaking terms?”

Eddie elbows him in the side with a look. “Shut it. We’re perfectly civil to one another.”

“Since you stopped working at Dispatch, you mean?” Buck grins, and then properly looks at what’s going on.

He’s mildly surprised to see Chief Simpson with several other officials, and they’re visibly—

“Are they ripping Gerrard a new one?” He’s…well, shocked isn’t a strong enough word. Stunned, more like, but still too weak.

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like it.”

Buck nudges him. “Come on, let’s get closer.”

But, as they do get closer, it seems like the conversation is heading to a close. The Chief sends someone in police uniform up to the loft with Gerrard, who nearly sends Chim to the floor when he pushes past him on the stairs. He’s fuming.

“Firefighter Buckley!”

Buck jumps, and looks back at the Chief. He’s now more self-conscious about his untidy appearance than ever, but he can’t very well hide. “Sir?” he asks once he’s close enough.

Is he gonna get fired for good for being on station property during a suspension?

“You’re reinstated, Buckley. You can start your next shift as usual. The Fire Department formally apologizes for any…distress Mr Gerrard’s behaviour has caused.”

Mister Gerrard? Did he—Is this real?

“I…don’t understand, Sir.”

Simpson sighs. “Every call to 9-1-1 is recorded, as you well know. A Mr Josh Russo sent us the recording of a call you made several days ago, during which you explicitly stated that your Captain was stopping you from going to the aid of the woman carrying your child, is that correct?” He doesn’t wait for his answer. “Per law, failure to assist a person in danger is punishable. The case was worsened, however, by the slur uttered by Mr Gerrard and recorded at the same time as your call, and by the fact he intentionally destroyed your personal property in your phone. As well as several other occurrences reported to us by Firefighters Wilson, Han and Diaz.”

The latter is hovering behind Buck, he doesn’t have to look to feel the warmth of him there. And he’s stunned to hear this as well. Eddie hasn’t been working under Gerrard for weeks! Does this mean the man insulted him the few times they crossed paths? How much of an asshole can that old owl be???

“Again, we apologize for any distress caused to you or the members of your team.” The Chief then turns to the stairs again, and clocks Hen standing at the railing with Chim. “Firefighter Wilson!”

She comes down the stairs, gingerly. “Sir?”

“It’s come to my attention that you might be interested in a connection we made during the investigation on Mr Gerrard’s mysterious reinstatement as Captain. It appears someone on the Council has been acting on a vendetta against the 118… You may want to ask Sergent Grant-Nash about this, it should interest you.” He turns, as if to leave, then looks back at her again. “Oh, before I forget. You are, of course, the best suited to shoulder the responsibilities of Interim Captain before Captain Nash is able to return. Congratulations. Firefighters,” he nods a farewell, and leaves, his minions behind him.

A few minutes later, as Hen is still apparently computing that she’s been made Captain and told that all her problems would come to an end, Gerrard and the policeman come back down, the former carrying all his personal effects in a neat little box.

As they watch him leave, they hear a clear, bitter and irrelevant “In my day those queers wouldn’t have even been allowed to step inside the building…” which makes Chim snicker.

“I’m straight,” he says while popping his gum.

Hen snorts. “Chim, you fantasize about Idris Elba coming to kidnap you and marry you… You’re at least a bit fruity.”

He shrugs, as if that’s a totally normal thing to do for a straight man.

And who’s Buck to judge?

What he’s surprised about, though, is that Eddie doesn’t seem to want to correct their former Captain’s accusation. But it’s irrelevant anyway, so who cares?

“Well…” he finally breathes after a moment of contemplation. “I think we’re going to owe Josh a lot of free drinks.”

Chim groans. “Probably for life, too.”

“Well, he did do us a big favour, there,” Hen points out before smiling and turning her eyes to Buck. “Which brings me to this: ‘the woman carrying your child’? Buck???”

Eddie laughs, bumps into him, and everything is alright with the world…

Well, almost everything.

Chris still hasn’t answered his text, after all…

Chapter Text

Bobby and Athena are currently living in a hotel near the police station while their house is being rebuilt. So far, the shell is done, but it’s bare, and its interior is fully concrete, bricks and plaster.

Yet, that’s where Buck meets Bobby the following day, as Hen is hogging Athena at the hotel, to discuss her own…Council problem.

Bobby’s sporting a few more grey hairs than he used to before his heart attack, and Buck never fails to hug him tight whenever he sees him. He feels like he needs to show the man how much he cares for him every time. Just in case.

His former and future Captain smiles softly when they untangle, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes crinkling. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey Bobby. Give me a tour?” He gestures to the shell of a house, which he still hasn’t seen finished. The last time he was here, there was only three walls and no roof.

Bobby chuckles, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be quickly done.”

They tour the future Grant-Nash home, which has been designed by Michael, but in a different way than the previous one. After all, that one was lost, and nothing can bring it back in the exact same way with the exact same walls May drew on or the exact same fireplace Michael and Bobby once tried to take down.

It’s mostly going to be open-plan, from what Buck gathers. Bobby is particularly excited to show him what will be his realm, the kitchen, which is going to be bigger and with better appliances. Harry is apparently also trying to discuss the possibility of a swimming-pool in the garden, but Athena is standing her ground so far.

Once the tour is over – about fifteen minutes later – Bobby brings him back outside, next to a pile of dirt where he set up two garden chairs and a cooler. He provides Buck with a beer before opening a can of fancy sparkling water.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

Buck smiles, bites his lip, and pats the pocket where he put Sprout’s sonogram picture. Does he show it first and tell after? Or does he tell then show?

He chooses the former.

He brings the picture out and offers it to Bobby who sets his can aside and takes the piece of paper with an intrigued look on his face.

Once Buck is sure that he’s clocked what this is, he takes a deep breath and says “Meet Baby Buckley. They’re a summer surprise from Natalia, and will be here around the end of November.”

Bobby stares at the sonogram, and for the longest time, no emotion shows on his face.

But when he raises his gaze to Buck, his eyes are filled with tears, and his lips stretched in a smile. “You’re having a baby?”

“Well, technically, Nat is having a baby, but yeah.” He grins. “She doesn’t want kids, and this one wasn’t planned, so…I’m getting full custody once they’re born.”

Bobby claps a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “And you’ll be an exceptional father, Buck.”

“I’ve got good models,” he puts his own hand on Bobby to get the message across. Sure, he means Eddie and Chim too, but Bobby is as much a Dad to Harry, May and heck, him than both of them to their own children.

The older man’s smile somehow trembles a bit but he shakes it off and changes the subject. “She didn’t tell you before now?”

“That’s a bit more complicated,” their hands fall back to their respective laps, but Bobby keeps the sonogram cradled like a precious thing. All good, Buck has made a lot of copies.

He tells his Captain, his mentor, his father figure, about Nat’s pregnancy denial and her subsequent difficulties, their various appointments for classes and ultrasounds and what-not, and all the while, Bobby is smiling like a proud dad.

“Well, once I’m back, you and I will sit down and go through the paperwork for paternity leave and of course the possible hours off for those classes and medicals.” He stands, prompts Buck to stand as well, and brings him into another patented Bobby Nash Hug which he melts into. “I’m so proud of you I could burst.” He chuckles but doesn’t pull back. “Athena is going to lose her mind. Our first grandbaby? She’s gonna spoil them rotten.”

Buck lets one or two tears drop at that. He didn’t know how to ask Bobby to be his child’s official grandparent; but apparently, the man is ready to take on the mantle without having to be asked.

When they finally part, Bobby looks down at the paper he’s still holding. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course you can. I’ll bring you the next ones.” He winks. “Gramps’s future fridge is going to be black and grey for a while.”

Bobby laughs, the sound familiar and comforting. “Gramps, hey? Do I get a say in my own name or not?”

“You do. You don’t like Gramps?”

“Let me sit on it.” They hug again, then they decide to have lunch together.

The sonogram is put safely in Bobby’s wallet, and Buck catches him looking at it more than once that afternoon.

Buck [Today, 10:06 am]

Chris, i know ur angry w me, but smth v important has happened in my life

i need 2 talk 2 u abt it

please?

“You think it’s gonna work this time?”

Eddie sits down next to him on the Diaz couch and offers a bottle of water. “I’m sure it is. You’re telling him that this is about you and not about our…well, all that’s happened. It’ll pique his interest.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He’s come to Eddie’s to get some help househunting. Two brains are better than one, after all, and even if Eddie’s not fond of technology, if there’s one thing he is a master at, it’s Googling and surfing the wide wide web.

So far, they’ve discussed a couple of flats that either needed too much work, or were too far from the station and/or Buck’s family.

He wants to remain in the same area, to be close to Bobby and Athena’s, Maddie and Chim’s, and Eddie’s, obviously. Hen’s has always been a bit of a longer commute anyway.

“Oh my God look at this!” Eddie turns the screen of his computer towards Buck, lips stretched in an excited smile.

The first thing he sees is the address. It’s literally two streets over from here. The house has just been posted on the website, which explains why he hasn’t seen it before. It’s on two floors, but it soon appears that the only room on the upper floor is the master bedroom and its ensuite. It’s got four total bedrooms, one full bath, a modern kitchen opening onto the living and dining areas, and a nicely-sized garden. It’s even got a garage. The walls outside are white, and there are light brown shutters framing the windows, as well as a small porch leading to the front door in the same wood.

He immediately falls in love with it.

He falls in love with it, hard, actually. He can already picture his things in that space. He’d have more cupboards than he knows what to do with in the kitchen; he hasn’t had access to a bathtub since leaving his parents’ – if you don’t count the few times he’s hogged Maddie’s – and the bedrooms are wide and light. He can see one being Sprout’s, painted in neutral colours with several bookshelves and, later, a little desk; the second one could be Chris’s when he comes over; and the third one could become Eddie’s, if…he stays over?

Why would Eddie and Chris spend the night when this house is literally a five-minute walk away from their own beds?

Anyway, Buck is in love. He wants this house.

“Oh,” he deflates as soon as he sees the price. “Nevermind.” He turns back to his own search, gutted.

Eddie frowns, looks at the screen, then back at his friend. “What’s wrong? Isn’t it the kind of house you wanted?”

“Eds, it’s not the kind of house I wanted, it’s literally the house I wanted. But have you seen how much they’re asking for it? I couldn’t afford that in a million years…”

Eddie stares back at the screen, and Buck can see the cogs turning.

In fact, they’re turning hard enough that Buck can almost hear the sound of an engine coming from his best friend’s head.

But instead, it’s his phone chiming that echoes through the quiet room.

He jumps when he sees the name. “It’s Chris!”

Both of them lean over to see what the teenager has answered.

Christopher [Today, 11:33 am]

have u broken up w Tommy? is that the big news?

Buck [Today, 11:35 am]

i mean, yes, i broke up w him, but that’s not the big news.

kinda want 2 talk 2 u face 2 face 4 that 1.

can we facetime?

He and Eddie wait with bated breath, leaning against one another.

It’s the first time in months that Chris talks to one of them. Usually, they get proof of life via Helena or Isabel. This is groundbreaking, and even if Chris refuses to video-call, Buck is already over the moon.

Christopher [Today, 11:40 am]

is dad there?

Buck [Today, 11:40 am]

he is.

Christopher [Today, 11:41 am]

ok

Buck’s heart only has enough time to kick-start itself again when he reads those two tiny letters before a FaceTime call comes in.

He stares at Eddie with wide, dazed eyes, before the other man points at the screen frantically.

“What are you doing? Take it!”

He presses the green icon.

Christopher comes into view, and it’s all Buck can do not to burst into tears. He looks good, as Helena promised he’s been; and he’s got a small zit near his hairline. He’s officially a teenager, now. Buck doesn’t doubt for one second that he’s probably grown several inches, too, and it terrifies him.

“Mijo…” Eddie whispers next to him, and his own eyes are misty and wide. “I’ve missed you so much…”

Chris seems to grit his teeth and ponder his next words, but then he nods. “I’ve missed you too, Dad.” And then he frowns. “What’s that on your face?”

Buck chuckles wetly. “I think your son doesn’t approve of the moustache, Eds.”

Eddie nudges him, still staring at his son as though he’s going to disappear any moment. “I’m trying something different. You don’t like it?”

Chris shrugs, faking indifference in that way teenagers do. “So, you have news for me?” he pointedly asks Buck, who feels knots in his stomach.

“Uh, yeah…” He hesitates, and Eddie puts his hand on his knee, grounding and giving him enough strength to carry on. “You remember Natalia?”

“Your ex the witch.”

Right. Chris had dubbed her that when Buck had tried to explain her work and he had decided it was definitely a witch thing. It wasn’t an insult at the time, though. Now it sounds like one.

“Yes, the death doula. Well, she reached out to me a couple weeks ago now…” He bites his lip, Eddie squeezes his knee. He continues. “Turns out she…is pregnant. With my child.”

Chris doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move a muscle, actually. To the point where Buck wonders if the image froze or the call disconnected.

When the teen finally answers, his voice is strangely…unsure? “You’re gonna have a baby with her.”

“Well, not exactly. Nat is pregnant, yes, but she never wanted children, so when they’re born, I’m going to become a single dad.” He grins, because any mention of Sprout makes him giddy.

Chris doesn’t smile. “And you wanted to tell me…why?”

Buck freezes. He freezes and his grin turns into a grimace while his heart is slowly breaking in his chest. He feels doused in icy water, all of a sudden, and his chest constricts.

“Chris…” Eddie tries to warn, but the teenager steels himself in a way he hasn’t ever done.

“I’m happy for you, Buck. You’ve got your family, now. That’s cool for you.”

Oh.

Buck gets it, now. He gets it because he’s used to feeling like surplus and like he’s being pushed out of his found family even when he isn’t.

And, while he wanted to wait until Chris was back to talk to him about this, now, it’s imperative he doesn’t wait.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you.” Eddie looks at him with a small frown. They haven’t discussed this. “I’ve got a mission for you, a very important one. That is, if you accept.”

Chris sighs. “Go on, tell me.”

“Would you be the baby’s godfather? Their Padrino?”

Eddie gasps next to him, and his hold on Buck’s knee becomes almost painful.

He only has eyes for Chris though, who, through the screen, seems to be running through all five stages of grief. “You…want me to be their godfather?” He sounds incredulous.

“Well, I was told godparents are really important. They are to be people the child can trust and go to when they can’t go to their parents; they have to take care of the child if anything happens to their parents; and they have to spoil them, of course. It’s a very big responsibility, and who better than my favourite person in the world to take that responsibility on?”

Chris seems to be battling a smile. Buck doesn’t fight his own.

The next thing the younger Diaz asks, though, sends his heart into overdrive.

“Can someone be a godparent to their own sibling, though?”

While Buck’s heart starts racing at speeds that F1 drivers would envy; Eddie splutters.

“I’m sure they can, but we can ask, if you want to be sure. But…your sibling?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Buck, you’re basically my dad. Of course your baby is going to be my sibling.” He looks like a thousand thoughts are coming to him a minute, now. “I’ve got to make a list of stuff I can give them that I don’t use anymore. Toys, plushies, books.”

“That’ll be great, mijo,” Eddie pipes up, voice filled with emotion.

Buck isn’t faring much better, really. “You’re happy, then? To become a godfather and a big brother?”

Chris ponders, before nodding. “I was starting to think it’d never happen, so yeah, I’m happy. You’ll have someone else to fuss about; and I’ll have someone to gang up on you.” And that’s a smile.

Buck’s stomach fills with butterflies. “I’m happy you’re happy. Want to see the sonogram? It might be a bit blurry, a photo of a photo, but—”

“I’d rather see it in person.”

Eddie is nearly toppling out of his chair at that one. “What--?”

Buck catches him, and asks “You want to come home?”

“I mean, yeah. I want to be there when the baby comes. When are they coming, by the way?”

“November.” He doesn’t say that technically, it’s the end of November, because if there really is a chance that Christopher is coming home, he’d rather lie by omission.

“Cool, plenty of time to go through my things, then.” He says it matter-of-factly, as if it was common knowledge he was gonna come back.

“Do—do you want me to come fetch you?” Eddie asks, his hand nearly breaking every finger of Buck’s he’s squeezing so hard.

The teenager on screen shakes his head. “I’m old enough to take the plane alone, Dad. Just be there at the airport.”

It looks like Eddie has a hundred things to say about that statement, but he’s apparently willing to let it slide if it gets him his son back. Buck can totally relate. “Do you want me to tell your grandparents?”

“Nah. I’ll do it.” He sighs. “I might ask Tìa for help though. They’ll try to convince me to stay.”

Eddie nods. “Say hi to Sophia for me.”

Chris nods too. “Okay. Gotta go.”

“Love you!” Buck and Eddie nearly shout before their boy has time to hang up.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again. “Love you too.”

He hangs up, and the silence that stretches then is nearly suffocating, but not in negativity. On the contrary, Buck feels nothing but happiness right now.

He looks at Eddie, who’s openly crying, now.

When their eyes meet, he manages a disbelieving “He’s coming home” before erupting into laughing sobs.

Buck brings him into an uncomfortable hug given their positions, and cries with him.

Their boy is coming home.

It takes a long time for them to calm down. They cry, then stare at each other until they’re laughing and crying again, and the cycle continues for what seems like an eternity and must still be as long as an hour.

Buck’s throat feels like sandpaper when they finally sit straighter and breathe deeper.

Eddie’s got a dazed kind of smile on his lips, and his eyes flit around, unseeing, in a way that shows the million of things he’s thinking about right now.

One of those things surfaces after a while, when Buck is placing two full glasses of water on the table after having already gulped one down in the kitchen.

“Buck…” the other man starts, the same dazed smile on his lips but a question in his eyes. “The baby’s godfather?”

Buck smiles too, and shrugs at the same time. “I figured, this way, we’d officially be a family.” He swallows past the lump of emotion in his throat when Eddie’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “And I also figured Chris would want to be trusted with more things, now that he’s growing up on us.”

Eddie places a hand on his arm, warm, comforting, with a soothing dance of his thumb on the skin of his inner forearm that makes Buck break into goosebumps. “But you don’t believe in all that crap. Christenings and…” he trails off.

Buck’s smile turns soft. “It matters to Bobby. I also figured that having the baby baptised or christened would be important to him. His faith is such a big part of him and he’s going to be Sprout’s granddad.” He doesn’t mention the fact that, for some reason, the idea of being in the Texas Diazes’ good books also appeals. “And I’ve read about it, if Sprout ever wants to get married in church, one day, then they’ll need to have been baptised. The rest, I’ll let them decide for themselves. Plus,” he chuckles, “Chris mentioned Adriana being his Madrina and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. One kid having godparents to spoil them rotten and the other not.”

Eddie tsks. “Those are…a lot of reasons.”

“I thought about it a lot, during those many nights I couldn’t sleep.”

His friend makes that face he does when he disapproves of something, but doesn’t comment. “Does Bobby know?”

“Not yet, but I should talk to him about it soon. I know nothing about those things, so I don’t know if I have to book the church, meet the priest or whatever beforehand.”

Eddie chuckles. “You do have to do all that. Plus a few extra things. I’ll help, I’ve gone through it before too.”

Buck smiles gratefully at the other man, before letting his face fall into uncertainty again. “Do you mind what Chris said? About me being his other dad and Sprout being his sibling?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and squeezes his arm. “Do I--? Buck, stop asking stupid questions. Of course I don’t mind! It’s the truth! And I should have talked to you about it before, because the whole truth of it is that Chris has been calling us his dads at school for years, now.”

“Years?”

“Oh yeah. Some PTA moms were…unhappy about it.”

Buck laughs. “I bet. They must have thought you were taken.”

“Good.”

Buck knows Eddie probably means it in a way that the PTA moms aren’t his type, but the way he’s looking at him right now, with his brown eyes sparkling with something like heat, almost makes him believe that he means that they should think he and Buck are together.

And…he’s not quite sure what he feels about that, other than a flight of butterflies in his stomach, and warmth spreading on his cheeks.

“Come on,” he tries to steer the subject somewhere safer for his heart, “let’s continue looking for houses.” He sighs as he powers the laptop back up and has to click shut the tab with the wonderful house Eddie had found. “As much as I’d love to move out here, I’ve got to say goodbye to this one…”

He doesn’t see the look Eddie gives him then.

He also doesn’t know that, later, when he’s on the couch and Eddie is retreating to his bedroom, his friend is going to go through their internet history and find the house again. That he’s going to start taking notes, and thinking hard.

He doesn’t know that, but he’s soon going to…

Chapter Text

Another week goes by. Natalia officially enters her last trimester, and enrols herself and Buck in every course she can find. One evening they’re at a breathing class; another at one that teaches how to change diapers – he already knows how – and how to burp and soothe colic – he knows that too, dammit – and one day, they’re roped into some sort of New Age thing to learn to communicate with Sprout in the womb. It includes bells, crystal glasses and incense.

They get out of that one nearly wheezing with laughter, and Buck buys her lunch, during which they rehash and imitate their ‘soul sister’ until even the diner’s staff looks close to laughing.

He’s happy about their relationship, so far. He’s grown some sort of easy friendship with Nat, and he hopes it’ll carry on being like that even after the baby is born. So far, she says she doesn’t want anything to do with them, but maybe in time she can be introduced as Buck’s friend, Natalia, who helped him expand his family. Maybe. He doesn’t want to assume or to force her into anything.

The next appointment at Dr Gupta’s goes easily enough, after a few minutes discussing Nat’s panic attack and the ensuing difficulties she faced but was helped through by her therapist. They check on Sprout’s health, and everything is in ship-shape. They’re finally in the right position, and Natalia’s belly has reached the normal size for someone seven months along.

A couple more sonogram pictures join the first on Buck’s fridge, and in Bobby’s wallet.

Speaking of Bobby, he’s soon to be reinstated after Gerrard goes into disgrace. In the meantime, Hen is a stellar Interim Captain. Pound and Lowell soon leave the station too, and Ravi comes back with a bang – literally, he brought crackers on his first day back. Buck lifts him off the floor he’s so happy to see him.

Eddie is not back yet. He wants to finish the month in C-shift, until his replacement arrives; which is an Eddie-thing through and through. But he promises to be there for Bobby’s first shift back.

Which is happening in three days.

Buck has been agonizing over real estate, bills and financial calculations for the best part of the morning, when Hen calls and invites him over that night for a get-together.

Immediately, he suspects that it’s going to be an informal party to welcome Bobby back; and offers to bring some things to nibble on.

He’s put the first batch of his infamous cheese-puffs in the oven when he decides to text Eddie.

Buck [Today, 1:03 pm]

hey man. want me 2 come fetch u 2 go to hen’s 2nite?

Eddie [Today, 1:08 pm]

Sorry, can’t make it tonight. I’ve got something already.

Told Karen I’d owe them one.

Give them my love.

Buck stares at the screen of his phone, and frowns.

Eddie’s got something planned tonight? With whom? Chris isn’t back yet – even though he’s already got his plane ticket, and Buck has circled the date in bold black marker on his calendar – and he and Tommy understandably aren’t friends anymore.

Is he seeing Lena Bosko again?

Is he fighting again?

Or worse, is he dating someone?

Usually, Eddie would tell him exactly what he’s doing; if he’s got something else planned, he’d say that he’s going to the gym, to a game, or to Pepa’s for dinner. But tonight, he hasn’t said.

Come to think of it, Buck can remember a few instances lately where Eddie has been a bit secretive, more than he ever is usually.

And it’s suspicious.

Very suspicious.

And Buck decides to investigate.

He checks the oven – another twelve minutes on the clock – sits at the kitchen island, and scrolls back through his and Eddie’s conversations; stopping on those messages his best friend sent that were…sus.

Buck [Wed. 09/11, 6:44 pm]

hey! do u want 2 c the new marvel movie 2nite?

got a pack of ur fave beer as an offering

Eddie [Wed. 09/11, 6:50 pm]

Sorry Buck, I’ve got something planned tonight.

Raincheck?

Buck [Sun. 09/08, 10:36 am]

hey man! new top chef dropped. i’m testing out a recipe. come taste it?

Eddie [Sun. 09/08, 10:55 am]

Am not home right now.

I’ll be there mid-afternoon.

Buck [Fri. 08/30, 5:11 pm]

off shift in an hour. want me to bring dinner?

Eddie [Fri. 08/30, 5:11 pm]

I’m going out tonight.

Won’t say no tomorrow, though.

There are a few more messages like this in the thread, but mostly dating back to when Buck was still with Tommy and Eddie seemed to avoid him a little bit; so those are non-conclusive.

The latest ones, though, are really weird. He remembers being disappointed when he received them, but not really paying attention to the fact that Eddie didn’t say what he was doing. And, now that he really is paying attention, he realises that the time-stamps really could mean that Eddie is either fighting again, or dating someone.

And, most importantly, that he’s hiding something from Buck.

And that can’t do.

He shows up at Hen and Karen’s ten minutes early, but neither of his hosts are surprised. Instead, he’s welcomed in with a couple of hugs and a grateful smile from Karen when she snatches the bottle of good white wine that he brought with him along with the cheese-puffs.

Athena and Bobby are the next to arrive. Bobby hugs Buck first and asks questions about Sprout – even though he got news the previous day – before Athena pushes her husband away to give him her own brand of motherly hug.

They all sit on the couch while Hen bustles around to bring nibbles and glasses to the living-room, and everything feels great.

“So, we’ve chosen what Baby Buckley is going to call us,” Bobby says after sampling a bit of the hummus and complimenting Karen on it.

Buck grins. “Gramps and Grams?”

Athena slaps his arm with that familiar glare and purse of lips. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She straightens. “I’ll be Nana.”

He leans into her and nuzzles her shoulder with a stupid little smile. “I love it.” Then he sits up and looks at Bobby while Athena snatches his hand and pats it with her free one. “What about you Cap?”

Bobby’s smile is so wide it makes him look ten years younger. “I chose Pops. To keep in with tradition.”

Buck’s heart is beating so loud, and he’s so bubbly with happiness that he feels like he’s going to burst.

“Pops and Nana. Those are cool names,” Hen pipes up when she manages to sit down a few seconds later. Buck grins at her. “Glad I don’t have to look for something more elaborate than ‘Auntie’.”

The bell rings as she was reaching for a chip, and she groans, springing back to her feet. But despite her moaning, Buck knows that she’s going to latch onto Mara as soon as she opens the door to let the Hans in.

In fact, Chim, Maddie and Jee have been in the room with them for a good five minutes before the Wilsons reemerge, Denny holding Mara’s hand and telling her about things he’s got to show her. He greets Chim and Maddie quickly before asking Jee if she wants to come with them to his room, and taking her hand too.

Watching all three kids holding hands and heading out makes Buck’s heart soar, and at the same time, it is a painful reminder of the kid that is sorely missing from this family night.

And said kid’s father is not coming either.

Suddenly, the free spot on the couch next to him feels like a bit of cold darkness.

And Buck’s smile fades a little.

Once everyone is seated and the kids are safely cooped up in Denny’s bedroom with various toys and some nibbles of their own, Hen and Karen finally join their guests and sit on a loveseat with an ominous oof.

Chim grabs his glass of bubbly wine – Buck has no idea what it’s called – and prompts the others to raise their own beverage in the air. “To Bobby’s return! And good riddance to the musty asshole!”

Everyone cheers, Athena with a bit of a chastising look, before Karen giggles and nudges her wife in the side. Hen grins, and doesn’t put her glass back on the table, instead, raises it again. “And to Karen and I’s reinstatement as foster parents!”

Maddie yelps and goes to sit at the very edge of her seat, while Chim freezes, his glass to his lips. “It’s done?!”

Karen nods with a magnificent smile of her own. “The investigation on Councilwoman Ortiz was swift once it was made clear she was on a biased warpath. The city wanted to settle the matter quickly so it didn’t make too much noise…”

Buck frowns. “She deserves worse for what she’s made you endure…”

Hen smirks and wraps an arm around her wife’s waist. “We agree. And that’s why Karen reconnected with an old friend of ours for a drink. Oh, a very innocent drink, where people talk about what’s going on in their lives, that kind of drink.”

Athena seems to understand and scoffs. “You didn’t.”

Karen swishes her hair away from her face, proud. “Oh but I did. And I wasn’t supposed to know that Taylor Kelly would have a dictaphone in her purse, now, was I?”

Buck is gaping, now. “You… You had Taylor run the story?”

“Who better?” Karen said with another proud smile that verges on…vicious. “And I knew that she would dig really deep and write really politely about the whole thing.”

She and Hen chuckle, before the latter says “We received a sneak peek earlier today. It’s going to be epic. Should air tomorrow or the day after.”

Buck is very happy for his friends that they’ll have the revenge they deserve, but, still, “I still don’t understand why you asked Taylor.”

Hen looks at him, a bit sheepishly. “Because she’s the most ruthless journalist we could think of. But, because I, understandably, didn’t really want to see her again, I let my dear wife handle the whole thing. And she did so marvellously.” She presses a kiss to Karen’s lips, and Athena raises her nearly empty glass once more.

“Well, I think we should drink to the Wilson ladies’ wit, then, how about that?”

Chim seems to agree, because he loudly cheers with a “To Hen and Karen!” that everyone else echoes.

Until Maddie asks “So, when can Mara come home?” which makes Hen look at her with misty eyes.

“She…still wants to come back here?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t she?” Maddie seems puzzled.

“Well, she’s so comfortable at your place, and she loves Jee. I can see when I visit that she’s building a good thing over there.”

Maddie stands from her seat and comes to kneel at Hen’s feet. She places a hand on both her and Karen’s knees, and seriously announces “Mara is your daughter. We are taking care of her as such. She’s enjoying her time at Auntie Maddie and Uncle Chim’s, but she can’t wait to come back to her Mamas.” She smiles. “And we can schedule in some playdates with Jee. She’ll love that.”

Both Wilsons bring Maddie in for a hug, and Buck feels a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest that has nothing to do with alcohol.

While his sister is part of the family through him and Chim, he has never seen her so close to Hen or Karen. And he’s glad that she is building strong bonds with the rest of the 118.

The Buckleys and their found family…

Which makes him smile for all of ten seconds before he reminds himself that this joyful reunion is missing someone very important, in his opinion, a pivotal member of said family.

He finishes his drink, and excuses himself to the bathroom, while promising to check on the kids on the way back.

Perfect excuse to check a few things…

He’s been sitting on the closed toilet for five minutes when he decides to check his phone again. Unsurprisingly, he hasn’t got any new messages, only a couple of notifications from Instagram and Facebook, nothing important.

Nothing Eddie-important.

Their text thread doesn’t go further than the last message Eddie sent earlier today, and Buck stares at the time-stamp, the same unease as before taking hold of him.

What is Eddie doing?

It is dangerous?

Is it self-destructive?

Why is he being so secretive with Buck of all people?

Impulsively, he decides to check Find my Friends. He and Eddie enabled it with Christopher’s permission after the bridge collapse last year, so they could always find each other in a crisis. He doesn’t want to admit to the number of nights he woke up in a terror and checked that his Diaz boys were still home safe.

His finger hovers over ‘Eddie’s Phone’ for a few seconds before he decides ‘fuck it’ and presses it.

To his utter surprise, the phone is still located in South Bedford Street.

Then what on Earth did Eddie have planned tonight that he hasn’t left home???

Ooooh, the possibility that he is dating someone again is becoming more and more realistic, and Buck hates it. He doesn’t stop to think why he hates it, but he does. Vehemently.

The mere thought that Eddie can be, at this precise moment, spending a flirty evening with a stranger in the house that Buck considers home is…

Well, if he grits his teeth, he tells himself it’s because he’s angry on Christopher’s behalf. Because if his dad is dating again after the utter fiasco that his last relationship was, it’s a total lack of respect towards Chris.

Yeah, that’s what he tells himself.

So he leaves the bathroom, checks on the kids as promised – Jee has her little hands smeared with Cheeto powder, and Buck is sorry for whoever is going to have to clean up the stains on Denny’s bed and rug later – before deciding to leave the gathering early.

He’s met with a concert of knowing eyes, and Maddie walks him to the door with a plate of various nibbles from tonight, asking him to say hello to Eddie for them and to tell him he was missed.

He doesn’t know how she can act as though he’s predictable as rain, when, honestly, he’s only heading to Eddie’s to stop him from making another horrible mistake.

That’s the only reason he takes the car and heads there.

Not because he’s felt all evening as if he was missing half of his body…

Eddie’s truck is in its pride of place when he arrives and claims his own spot next to it on the driveway. There aren’t any unknown vehicles in the house’s direct vicinity, but Buck’s Ubered to dates enough times to know that it’s not a conclusive proof that Eddie’s alone in there.

And Eddie would not have said he had plans if he was sick instead. That makes no sense either.

Feeling like the worst creep in the History of creeps, Buck goes around the house and tries to peek inside, nearly presses his ear to windows and walls to try and hear whatever’s going on in the house.

That is, until he reaches the backdoor and Eddie swings it open with a curious and frankly worried gaze.

“Buck? What the Hell are you doing?”

But, to be quite honest, Buck isn’t really paying attention, right now. Or, rather, he is focussed on Eddie’s appearance.

The man, distracting on a good day, is currently wearing a white t-shirt properly stained with blotches of what looks like…paint? And some spots of colour have made it to his hands, forearms – where they add depths to the tattoos Buck loves so much – and one on his cheek.

It’s to that spot, sky-blue and lovely on Eddie’s tan skin, that he points incredulously. “You’ve got…blue there.”

Eddie frowns, reaches up to wipe at his cheekbone, but only smears more colour transferring from his fingers to his face. The sky blue splotch is joined by a stripe of light purple – lavender, Buck’s brain supplies dazedly – and Eddie looks even more…delectable.

Buck manages to shake himself off his trance – literally has to shake his head a few times to dislodge the increasingly regular thoughts he gets about his best friend – before he manages more choked words.

“What are you doing?”

Eddie sighs. “I…I had plans, remember?”

Buck pouts. “You didn’t tell me what they were.”

Those brown eyes soften, and Eddie smiles under the equally distracting moustache. With a teasing groan, he gestures Buck inside and heads through the kitchen towards the living-room.

Buck follows him like a lost puppy, frowning when he hears voices from somewhere, distorted but there nonetheless. He nearly runs into the living-room, ready to witness some sort of weird mating ritual involving paint.

Instead, what he finds is…

Well, what he finds is Eddie’s couch – Buck’s unofficial bed – pushed to the wall, a tarp spread on the floor, an easel in the middle of it with what looks like a half-done scenery painted on it. Paintbrushes and tiny pots of colour are spread on the coffee table that’s hidden under an old blanket already soiled with various splotches of its own.

On the tv, Buck can see several people, two of which are waving. He freezes for a second, before realising they’re waving at him, that Eddie was on a Zoom call, one he’s apparently struggling to shut off.

“I’ll catch up another time, Maria. Have a nice night, everyone!”

There’s a concert of goodbyes in English, Spanish and what sounds like Mojave, perhaps, before the image cuts off and Eddie switches off the tv altogether.

When he turns back to Buck, he’s biting his lower lip and spreading his arms in a decidedly self-deprecating way. “Alright, have at it.”

Buck frowns. “Huh? What…what are you—”

Eddie sighs. “I’m doing painting courses over Zoom. Come on, have a laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?” Buck is genuinely confused.

Eddie too, apparently, if the widening of his brown eyes is anything to go by. “I… I—painting is a woman’s hobby.”

“Is it?” Buck tilts his head to the side. “I’m quite sure that most of History’s greatest painters were men. Van Gogh? Probably part of my bisexual awakening, when I think about it.”

Eddie chuckles once, as if the sound was punched out of him. “You don’t find it weird that I’m painting in pastels two nights a week?”

“Why would I, Eddie?” He laughs too, all tension having left his body a while back, when he understood what his best friend has been hiding from him. “It’s great that you’ve found something to help distract you from everything. Something that doesn’t involve punching people in the face, thankfully.”

Eddie mirrors his mirth, but he still runs a hand to the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. Buck can see that he’s smeared some more paint on his hair; his whole body turning into a lovely canvas of its own.

“Yeah, I… Frank suggested it, and I didn’t want to go to actual studios, I don’t…feel confident enough for that. So I tried Zoom classes. And it’s working so far. I…I like it.”

“That’s all that matters.” Buck’s face is hurting he’s smiling so wide. “Is this your first work of art?” He points at the easel.

Now that he’s paying more attention to it, he can see that it depicts a seaside scene: there’s a cliff with pine trees and dangerous rocks, waves crashing down on the side of it; and what will probably become a sandy beach.

“It’s…beautiful, Eds.”

The other man looks at his work, bashful again. “It’s not perfect.”

“Well, I love it anyway. Are you going to hang it somewhere in the house?”

Eddie meets his eyes again. “I…don’t know.”

“Well, you should. It’s really good.”

“Thanks Buck.” A small comfortable silence stretches between them, before Eddie gestures back towards the kitchen. “Do you want a beer?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Let me just go and fetch the leftovers I left in the car. We’ll have something to nibble on while you tell me all about your newfound passion for art.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

Buck heads back out for a minute, already planning an outing or two to an art gallery…

Chapter Text

A few days go past.

Now that Buck knows what Eddie hid from him – stupidly believing that painting wasn’t a manly thing to do, you know, like a moron – he’s dived into one of his usual deepdives, bombarding his best friend – and then the whole 118 – with facts about art and painting styles. One day, he even finds a very interesting article about the pigments used by Ancient Egyptians and Imperial Romans, ranging from crushed beetles to powdered rocks and, less glamourous, dung.

This all coincides with Bobby’s reinstatement as their Captain, and Buck is nearly buzzing with excitement the morning of.

Hen and Chimney have provided the banners and mandatory cake – this time with a tame ‘Captain my Captain!’ paired with the team standing on the dining table, as they should – and Maxwell, who’s usually man behind, plugs in some happy and celebratory music.

Bobby arrives in uniform, of course, a magnificent grin on his lips and Buck is the first to hug him tight. He folds into the man’s arms like a little boy, and Bobby squeezes back with a joyful ‘Hey kid’ that has Buck nearly giggling.

Hugs are distributed, Bobby laughs at the cake, and they all sit down to share.

Eddie, in civvies – he’s bound to get back to A-shift two days later – sits next to Buck, their legs knocking together as usual, and he leans in to steal the pieces of blackcurrant off Buck’s plate. Buck despises blackcurrants.

Hen watches them, and Eddie shrugs with a ‘What?’ that has her roll her eyes and turn back to her conversation with Bobby.

Later, when everyone gets back to their respective chores and Bobby goes to his office to properly reclaim it – and Eddie leaves with a playful punch to Buck’s shoulder – he finds his way to the room to tell his Captain how happy he is that he’s finally back.

His eyes immediately clock the framed ultrasound of Sprout’s in pride of place on Bobby’s desk, and Buck’s suddenly so happy he could burst.

His father figure is back where he belongs, Eddie is not dating, and Chris is coming back…

Not to mention the appointment he and Nat have after his 24 for the latest photoshoot of Baby Buckley…

Natalia [Today, 8:54 pm]

Hey Buck, hope your shift’s going well.

Just a heads-up, Dr Gupta pushed our appointment from 9 to 10:30. Can you still make it?

Buck [Today, 9:12 pm]

course i can. c u there.

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He looks up from his phone, locks it and places it in the small locker in the truck before reassuring Hen. “Yeah, yeah. Natalia was just telling me our appointment got pushed an hour.”

“That’s good,” Bobby pipes up from the front seat. “We don’t know how long this call will take, you’ll need time to wash up and drive there.”

Buck hums safely. Bobby’s not wrong.

They’re on their way to a four-alarm domestic fire.

Apparently, a frat party gone wrong. And when they turn up and witness the bonfire these idiotic kids lit up far too close to their frat house on a windy night, Buck is tempted to smack the group upside the head.

Even he wasn’t this stupid in his younger years…

The fire is a bitch to get under control. There’s a lot of accelerants in the house, ranging from alcohol to cleaning supplies to vinyl disks to make up, of all things. Buck and Riley, partnered up for the last time until Eddie’s back, are inside the burning shell for most of two hours, and despite their masks, the smoke is so dense and so acre that, after a while, Buck feels his throat itching and his lungs burning.

“Buckley, Riley, what’s going on in there?” Bobby radioes in after another window explodes.

Buck coughs, once, twice, thrice. His throat is clogging up, but he manages to croak “Most of it is under control, Cap. There’s just…a lot of smoke.”

Behind him, Riley takes hold of his shoulder. “Cap, Buckley’s got trouble breathing.”

“Bring yourselves out. Buck, Hen’s waiting for you.”

Buck grumbles, already bemoaning his friend’s fuss over what he’s sure is nothing serious, but as they make their way back down the crumbling stairs, his lungs truly feel like they’re filled with tar. Every breath grows more and more painful, and coughing doesn’t help, on the contrary.

Bobby and Riley half-carry him to the ambulance once they’re out in the ‘fresher’ air outside – though still filled with thick smoke – and once he’s sat on the gurney and Hen rips his mask away from him, he recognizes the look on her face.

“No,” he tries to croak, but his throat is raw, and he can’t utter more than a pitiful groan.

But he needs to tell her. He can’t go to hospital tonight, he can’t.

He’s got an appointment with his baby in the morning…

“Buck,” Hen says sternly after he weakly tries to fight her off again. “Don’t be a baby and let me examine you.” She holds his face tightly as she shines a light into his eyes and then starts the tedious but meticulous checks on his lungs, nose, heart.

When she closes the doors and knocks on the side of the ambulance, Buck falls back, defeated. They’re going to the E.R.

“You’ve got smoke inhalation, Buck,” Hen explains. “Your mask must have been defective. I won’t take chances with your health.” He nods pitifully, and she squeezes his hand. “It’s just a precaution, Buckaroo.”

It comes from a place of love, and he can’t very well be angry at Hen for taking care of him in that sisterly way of hers, so he squeezes her fingers back.

Still.

Sprout.

He’s examined by two more nurses and a doctor, Hen fussing over him all the while and forbidding him from so much as utter the word ‘phone’.

The verdict is light smoke inhalation. He’s put on oxygen and the hospital want to keep him for at least twelve hours, to monitor his levels in case he inhaled more than just carbon dioxide which, considering all the shit that was at that frat house, is unfortunately more than likely.

Once he’s being put to bed and plugged to one of those infuriating machines he knows all-too-well, he grabs Hen by the wrist and croaks out ‘Eddie’ before she swats him away.

“Rest your voice, you dummy. Your vocal cords got a bit cooked, there, Buckaroo. You want me to get Eddie here?” He nods frantically, before mimicking rocking a baby in his arms. “Ah, right. You had an appointment for Baby Buck this morning.” He nods again, frustrated now. “Okay, I’m gonna call Eddie. And I’ll ask Chim to bring in your phone so you can text Natalia.” She leans in to kiss him on the forehead, and he sighs ominously, left alone on this goddamn bed, with nothing else to do than be bored.

He's resigned himself to count the tiles on the ceiling when Eddie arrives, takes one look at him and smirks.

“I thought we already talked about how smoking’s bad for you, Buck.”

He rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile under the oxygen mask. His best friend is always the first to tease – when he knows the situation isn’t dire, at least.

Eddie chuckles and waves something in the air – Buck’s phone – before coming closer and plopping down onto the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his bed.

Buck immediately checks the time – 9:47 am – and sighs in relief before opening his Notes app. He types as quickly as his big fingers let him while trying to avoid too many typos, and then, he shoves the device under Eddie’s nose.

“’Appointment fir Sproyt at 10:30. Go for mr please’. You want me to go to an ultrasound appointment in your stead?” Eddie looks a bit shocked by this, and Buck can’t comprehend why. Eddie should always be the first choice in case he can’t make it.

So he nods frantically with a shrug that means ‘duh’.

Eddie smiles. “You sure?” And Buck nods again, fast enough that he almost knocks the mask off his face. “Alright, gimme the address. And maybe warn Natalia ahead of time? I don’t want her to be scared to see me.”

Buck rolls his eyes, types again, shows it again to his friend.

Alongside the address to Dr Gupta’s office, he wrote ‘She wouldn’t br scared to ser you, she knows ypu’.

Eddie rolls his eyes too at that, after he’s typed in the address into his own phone. “Natalia’s met me a grand total of four times, Buck. I’m not even sure she’d remember me.”

And, considering how she always manages to somehow bring Eddie into conversation when they see each other, Buck can tell she absolutely does remember him. As if Edmundo Diaz could be easily forgotten. As. If.

Anyway, he doesn’t voice that, and thanks him for doing this for him. Eddie grins and pats his arm with an easy ‘Always’ before he leaves to make sure he’s not late, and with a promise to come back here right after.

Buck remembers to text Nat a good ten minutes later, after trying to figure out why exactly it was so easy to send Eddie to something baby-related and not, say, Maddie.

He fails to find the answer.

Buck [Today, 10:01 am]

nat, so sry, can’t make it.

in hospital all day, nthg serious, dw.

eddie’s coming 2 the appointment instead.

BE NICE.

Natalia [Today, 10:23 am]

Just arrived. Jeez, Buck, don’t scare me like that!

You better explain later!

And I’m always nice. Especially to your BFF.

*angel emoji*

The hospital TV doesn’t bring much relief for Buck’s boredom, at all, during the next few hours.

He tries texting Maddie, Karen, heck, even Chris before he remembers that the kid’s at school – and isn’t that a fucking travesty in itself, Christopher going to school in Texas, ugh – without much avail, and since his voice is still out of commission for a bit, he can’t even chat with the nurses.

So, well…he sets out to deplete his phone’s battery by going into another tangent, this time one that starts with smoke inhalation, goes through to the importance of good water pipes in apartment buildings, goes on to real estate prices around the world, and finishes inexplicably on the King Fisher bird and its nesting habits.

Once his battery warning shows 5%, Buck rings for the nurse, and after a good scolding, manages to get a charger from one of those scrub-wearing angels. He vows to bring them baked goods once he’s out of here.

The 5% has been steadily rising up to 10 when he gets Eddie’s text. He nearly drops the phone in his excitement.

Eddie [Today, 11:35 am]

Just came out from doc’s. Everything good with Sprout. New photoshoot unlo

The text stops there, and Buck starts wondering if his phone hasn’t properly broken down when a Facetime call comes in, making him jump in surprise.

Eddie’s face greets him, but it looks like he’s being a bit manhandled, even if he’s smiling widely.

“I know,” he’s telling the other person – undoubtedly Natalia. “Hey Buck. Sorry about the text, didn’t mean to send it like that, but—” He’s cut short, and there’s a bit of a scuffle on the other end while the phone changes hands.

Nat’s face appears. She’s still got that pregnant glow to her skin, but her eyes are a bit dark with a glare Buck knows he’s directed at him.

“What’s this about smoke inhalation?! Did you want not to be able to come today?”

He’s sheepish, but he can’t really answer, so…he shakes his head like a scolded child.

Eddie’s voice pipes up “He can’t talk right now, he has to rest his voice.”

“Right,” Nat says with pursed lips. “Well, thanks for sending G.I. Joe over. At least I wasn’t alone.” And he knows she’s genuine about that. After all, this baby is going to exclusively be his, to have her deal with medical appointments alone would be cruel of him.

Still, he chuckles at the nickname she apparently gave Eddie.

And she clocks it. Smirks. “Yeah. The moustache kind of prompted it. Eh, Joe?” Buck hears Eddie grumble before Nat continues. “Anyway, he’s going to buy me lunch – yes you are, the least you could do to thank me for carrying a Buckley into the world, Diaz. So, Eddie’s buying me lunch, and he’ll be back with you after.” It seems like Eddie is wrestling her for the phone again, but she hangs on to it long enough to add “You better be there next time!” which he weakly salutes at in a dumb promise.

Eddie’s face reappears, and his cheeks are slightly red as he glances in what Buck assumes is Nat’s direction. He hears something, as if she’s saying something or making some kind of noise, and Eddie blushes deeper. Buck loves his best friend’s blush. It’s so pink.

“Yeah, uh…” Eddie tries to get his goodbyes in in-between Nat’s noises…was that a smooch? “I’ll see you later. And I asked for enough copies of the Sprout to content everyone in the family.”

Buck grins. Eddie grins back, those brown eyes filled with familiar affection.

They hang up, and suddenly, the prospect of waiting for another couple of hours isn’t that daunting anymore…

Though he doesn’t know why…

As promised, Eddie shows up with plenty of updated pictures of Sprout. They’re nearly fully developed at that point, and Buck falls immediately stupidly in love with his child’s tiny nose and pouty lips.

“They’ve already got it down,” Eddie jokes when Buck points out the latter, and he can’t help but pout too at that.

They spend a couple more hours gushing about Sprout, then Chris’s upcoming return home, and various other topics that make the rest of the day pass much quicker. When Buck’s discharged and allowed to speak again, they end up on Eddie’s couch with a plate of sushi each and an anime on the tv.

Unsurprisingly, Buck spends the night on the couch.

“Come on, ladies, let’s plank this up!”

There’s a loud concert of splashes as all expecting mothers raise into a planking position, and Buck waddles to support Nat’s lower back under the water.

They’ve been coming to this sort of aqua-fitness course for a few weeks, by now, and Nat’s increasing waistline means it’s more welcome than ever.

She sighs in relief as the weight of her belly is lifted off her. “That feels so good.”

Buck chuckles. “Still sure you don’t want to give birth in a pool? There’s time, I could still make arrangements.”

“You’re a darling, but no. I’d rather be in a proper hospital for this one.” She’s closed her eyes and has a serene look on her face, hands playing with the surface of the water, as she knows Buck won’t let her sink.

“Alright, now extend your arms above your head. Companions, make sure to hold them firm, we don’t want any water in those noses!” Their teacher is a female-presenting twenty-something that bizarrely talks like an elderly grandmother, and it never fails to make Buck laugh.

Nat goes into position, a smirk adorning her own face. She holds it for a dozen seconds before she brings up another topic. “So, should I expect Eddie to show up at one of our appointments again anytime soon?”

Buck nearly drops her at that, and he splutters. “What? No! It was a one time thing!”

“Too bad.” She chuckles too. “You know, he was almost worse than you with the questions. Dr Gupta had to shut him up at one point, she couldn’t hear the baby’s heart over his yapping.”

Buck frowns. Eddie yapping more than him? That sounds suspicious… “Really?”

“Yeah. He had all these questions about what kind of powdered milk, what type of diapers were better, soaps, heck, even textures for the baby’s clothes and beddings. It was insufferable. And I thought he had a kid already…”

“He does.”

“Was Christopher adopted or something?”

“No…” Buck hesitates, eyes the group and moves Nat in the next position – frog legs – before answering. “He was…not there for long after Chris was born. He…was in the army, remember?” He also suspects that Ramon had something to do with this: fussing over a baby should be a mother’s job, no doubt. Ugh.

“Ah, right.” Nat frowns a bit too. “Must have been hard, not being there. I get it now. Feels like he failed the first kid, wants to be there for the second.”

Buck’s legs give out at that and he sinks under the water for a second, while still holding her up, miraculously. Once he’s coughed out the invasive water, he manages a weak “What?!” that has Nat look at him funnily.

“Come on, Buck. I may not be part of your life as much as I used to, but I’m not blind. And, for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you two. You’re good for each other.”

Buck doesn’t have the heart to correct her.

Why does Natalia think Eddie and him are…together?

Chapter Text

“Careful! He’s coming!”

Buck tries and fails to properly shush everyone. Hen and Chim are snickering, arms crossed as they watch him fuss over the rest of the team’s noise.

Bobby’s the first to ascend the stairs, a wide smile on his lips, and, like clockwork, Eddie follows. He mustn’t be very surprised that they arranged something like this for him, but the affection and happiness on his face is worth every dollar they put into that blasted cake.

“Welcome back Freddie!” everyone shouts, and Eddie bursts into laughter even as Buck nearly launches himself into his best friend’s arms. Despite having seen him the previous day.

He hugs Eddie tight, very tight, nearly burrowing his face into the man’s shoulder. Instead, he forces himself back, and Eddie, like clockwork here as well, clasps his shoulder, pressing his thumb onto Eddie’s Spot.

“I’m so happy to have you back,” Buck breathes amidst a laugh.

Eddie’s brown eyes are fond, his smile is amused. “I’m happy to be able to have your back again.”

And doesn’t that nearly make Buck’s knees buckle, for some reason…

Chimney nearly shoves him out of the way to bring Eddie into his own hug, prompting another bout of laughter. Hen is much more graceful and gentle, and Ravi decides that a group hug is in order, pulling Bobby into it with the four of them sandwiched in the middle.

There are claps and laughter and whistles and Buck is happy.

When Eddie finally clocks the cake – a giant moustache with ‘Close enough, welcome back, Fr-Eddie Mercury’ written in neat icing, instead of laughing as Buck would have expected, he instead strikes a decidedly very Freddie-esque pose.

“That’s Halloween sorted!” he cheers before asking Bobby for a cake knife.

Buck watches him as he cuts it and serves it to his colleagues and friends, that beautiful smile refusing to leave his lips. Something fluttery is taking flight in his stomach again, something he can’t put a name to, but decides to enjoy nonetheless…

Incidentally, Eddie’s birthday falls two days later, and three days before Chris is set to come back home.

At first, Eddie said he wanted to wait for his son to ‘celebrate’, even if Buck knows all-too-well that he wouldn’t celebrate at all, Chris or not; but after some very good pressuring from Hen and Karen, he agrees to an outing to a Mexican restaurant the team has been dying to try for ages.

Their table takes nearly a third of the restaurant’s floor, but apparently, they’re used to it, which, Buck reckons, makes sense, since Hispanic families often celebrate with their cousins, aunts, uncles, first, second and sometimes even third degree included.

Linda, Josh and Sue have joined from Dispatch, along with May and Harry. Pepa and her husband José are there too of course; and Ravi apparently managed to track down Eddie’s poker buddies, two of which have joined – though Buck still doesn’t know their name.

They’re having a grand all time, the whole table busy with conversation and appreciative comments about the food, and Buck observes Eddie throughout.

He looks happy. His shoulders lack the weight that was placed on them since May, and he looks paradoxically younger than he should.

His phone, on the table, has been steadily buzzing with messages all evening, ranging from his sisters to Abuela to mere acquaintances both from Texas or here – blasted Lena Bosko among them – but it chimes with a call at 8pm on the dot.

Eddie checks the screen absent-mindedly, mid-commentary about a TV show he’s just binged with Karen, and pauses mid-sentence.

Buck smirks.

Eddie meets his eyes. “It’s Chris.”

“Punctual.” He winks at Eddie’s tiny frown, then nods towards the phone. “Take it.”

Eddie immediately does, standing from the table and moving to a quieter spot in the restaurant, his elated “Mijo?” making several people around the table stop to smile in his direction.

Buck meets Pepa’s gaze several seats over.

She smiles, he does too. Somehow, his ability to have silent conversations with Eddie seems to work with his Tìa as well, because she doesn’t have to say a word: he gets it.

They’re gonna be alright.

“Stop fidgeting.”

Buck looks over towards Eddie, sitting in the passenger seat and clutching his phone, staring at the screen so hard that it should be shattered right about now. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“Your leg keeps bouncing up.”

How Eddie noticed that when his gaze hasn’t left the device in his hand for the past hour eludes Buck, but no matter.

“Aren’t you nervous?”

Eddie sighs, drops his phone to his lap for the first time since they’ve left South Bedford Street. “Of course I’m nervous. What if, as soon as he sees me, he decides to go back to El Paso? What if I fuck up again? What if he can’t ever forgive me?”

“He said he did.”

“He’s a teenager. He lies.”

Buck supposes it’s true. But he knows one thing for certain, however, and it’s that “Christopher would not lie about something like this. It’s too important.”

Eddie nods, his lips pursed.

They sit in silence for the next ten minutes, and Buck tries very hard to stop his leg from bouncing too much.

He’s counted about seven hundred seconds when Eddie’s phone lights up with a notification.

The fingers that clutch it are white with intent. “They’ve just landed.” He exchanges a look with Buck, whose lips slowly stretch into a grin. A grin Eddie slowly but surely mirrors. “They’ve just landed.”

“Let’s go.” Buck isn’t done talking that they’re both out of the truck and nearly running towards the airport entrance. He remembers at the last second to whirl around and lock the car before following Eddie at a brisk pace.

Chris is here.

Chris is back.

There aren’t a lot of people waiting in front of the Arrivals gate, so Eddie can stand close to the barrier, hand to his mouth as he bites his nails. Buck would try and stop him, but he’s in a similar state of nervousness. His bad leg is starting to throb after their running stint, and he sways from side to side to try and alleviate a bit of the pressure in his knee.

Then, finally, the automatic doors slide open in a hiss. A wave of people starts exiting the terminal, and Eddie stretches his neck to try and see Christopher. Buck knows that, objectively, he should be at the back of the group, what with his crutches and the person accompanying him. But he too can feel his heart beating faster and faster with every second that passes.

Eddie’s hand shoots to his side, and he grabs Buck’s wrist. Buck who, with the couple of inches he’s got on his best friend, is able to see what Eddie just saw.

Familiar curls, jutting higher than they used to, because their owner has shot up what looks like a whole foot in his absence.

“Christopher!” Eddie shouts, his voice younger and lighter than it’s been in months.

Buck finds himself grinning so wide his cheeks are hurting.

Chris catches sight of his father and directs himself their way, his Bisabuela following with their carry-on.

While Christopher had initially wanted to come home alone, his grandparents had used that as an argument not to let him come back at all, and after several horrible calls and failed conversations, Isabel had jumped in and proposed to accompany her nieto, which gave her an excuse to come visit. Buck has always loved the Diaz matriarch, but not as much as he did then.

“Mijo…” Eddie’s almost breathless as he rounds the barrier to reach his son, and Buck’s heart misses quite a few beats when he sees his best friend bring Christopher into his arms for the first time since May.

Chris is slow to wrap his own arms around his father, but still does, his head tucked onto Eddie’s shoulder as he groans “Dad…don’t embarrass me…”

Buck chuckles, as does Eddie, who pulls back and frames his son’s face in his hands with a teary smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to let me just this time, Christopher. I need to hug you right now, if you don’t mind.”

Chris rolls his eyes with a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “I wasn’t talking about the hug, but about that thing on your face…”

Isabel tsks as she reaches Buck’s side, but everyone else laughs merrily.

He opens his arms wide to welcome her into an embrace, and she pats his cheek the way she always does Eddie. Buck has, in fact, not seen Isabel Diaz a lot in seven years, but they have a message thread where they share recipes and news about their best boys, so he feels like he knows her quite well.

Still, the fond “Evanito” that she utters as she smiles up at him is worth a hundred words. “Have you been eating well?”

He chuckles at that, this typically motherly thing to say, that he’s never had directed his way before. He nods with a grin. “I have. Your tamales recipe was really appreciated at work, thank you.”

“Of course.” She pats his cheek once more, then moves to the side to let him get to Chris.

He and Eddie have stopped hugging, but Eddie keeps a hand on his son’s arm, as if letting him out of his reach again is unthinkable.

Buck…gets it.

Because as soon as he engulfs the most precious child in the world into his arms, cradles him to his chest and nuzzles his growing curls, he feels like he’s not going to let go anytime soon…

Miraculously enough, Chris lets him hug him tight without a complaint. And once Eddie is done greeting his grandmother, he joins the embrace.

Buck feels home.

When they get to the car, Eddie pushes him away from the driver’s seat with a pointed ‘Don’t pretend your leg isn’t killing you – let me drive’ that he’s useless to say no to.

Isabel, however, climbs into the passenger seat with a wink, forcing him to sit in the backseat with Christopher and…oh…

She’s…

He loves Isabel Diaz.

Since his long ass legs don’t have that much room if he sits right behind Eddie, Buck decides to take the middle seat, pressing against Christopher’s side with a cheeky grin that the teenager answers with a roll of his eyes.

Chris pushes his glasses up his nose and grumbles. “Are you gonna be this clingy all the time now?”

Eddie backs them up out of the parking lot and seems about to answer, but Buck beats him to it. “Well, you chose to leave for nearly five months, now you’re reaping what you sowed. Deal with it, Runaway Child.”

Chris rolls his eyes again. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t funny for us either,” Buck answers, a bit more seriously.

Chris is old enough to understand, he thinks. Old enough to face the consequences of him choosing to leave for Texas, and not facing his issues with his father dead-on.

Buck isn’t going to force the conversation, because he knows the Diazes have hashed a big chunk of it through Facetime these past few weeks; but he’s not above some tender nudging, as they say.

A tense silence falls onto the car, until Isabel twists in her seat, and smiles at Buck. “Evanito, you’ve not showed me that baby of yours yet!”

And with that prompting, the mood lifts, and the discussion swerves to safer ground, namely, Sprout. Buck fishes his phone out of his pocket, and digs through his latest photos to find the sonograms, which he shows Isabel first before turning the screen towards Christopher.

As expected, the teen is much less enthusiastic about the grainy picture than his great-grandmother.

Thankfully, he’d rather talk at length about what he’s going to do with his sibling-godchild when they’re born.

And Buck’s heart is finally full after months of half of it missing. It even swells bigger in his chest, at the thought of another person joining his peculiar family-unit soon.

It’s about half an hour later when he notices that Eddie isn’t taking them home.

When he questions their ‘chauffeur’, the man grins, and it makes his fetching moustache twitch a bit adorably. “There’s another Diaz in town who misses her sobrino nieto.”

And…of course. Pepa.

They get to her house easily enough, after being a bit delayed by roadworks that have Eddie cursing up a storm, and Chris laughing at his father’s car etiquette – or lack thereof – and Josephina Diaz is already waiting for them in front of her house.

Understandably, she hugs her mother first. Isabel is to stay with her, obviously, so Buck doesn’t think twice about retrieving her carry-on from the trunk and brings it over just as Pepa is pulling Chris into her motherly embrace.

“Don’t ever do that again, Christopher Javier Diaz!” And ouch, not the full-naming… “If you ever have an issue with your father, you call me! I’m much closer, and I at least have a pair of chanclas!”

Chris groans, Buck hides his laughter, Isabel smiles fondly, and Eddie looks a bit sheepish, up until his aunt brings him into her arms and he melts into it.

Not for the first time since meeting them, Buck is struck by the fact that Isabel and Josephina have both been more of a mother to Eddie than Helena has ever been… It makes him grits his teeth for the twenty seconds it takes them all to go inside.

Unsurprisingly, they’re all shown to the dining-room and asked to sit down while Pepa disappears in the kitchen when she fetches what looks like a feast fit for Christmas and not a random September afternoon.

“You must be famished,” she says, or rather, orders, because even when not hungry, one is expected to sample Pepa’s baked goods.

Buck obediently fills his plate with enchiladas and gratefully accepts a glass of water. For a while, he just nibbles and watches Christopher dig into his own plate as if starving. Buck surmises that a growing teenager must be hungry at all times.

Except, well…

“Grandma’s cooking isn’t that good. She always cooks bland things, says it’s better for me.”

Eddie frowns, as does Isabel. “Bland things are better for you?” Eddie asks, voice gruff.

Chris shrugs. “She says salt is bad, sugar is bad, too much meat is bad. She cooked a lot of spinach and carrots cooked in water, and chicken. Mostly chicken.” He shudders, as if traumatised. “Abuelo hated it.”

“I bet he did,” Pepa says drily, pushing another enchilada towards her great-nephew.

Eddie shares a look with Buck. He understands without the need for words: Helena Diaz has a serious problem when it comes to Chris and his needs…

“Once you’re home, I’ll make you Bobby’s lasagna,” he promises.

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re always making Bobby’s lasagna.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“I do, but…change the tune, sometimes, alright?”

Buck chuckles, fond, before resuming eating.

This, all five of them gathered around an impromptu but welcome meal, feels right.

Even when their plates are emptied and their bellies filled, they stay at the table, sharing moments from the past five months that either send a pang to Buck’s chest or fill it with warmth.

Isabel discusses the flowers she planted in her garden in Texas; Pepa talks about her granddaughter Julieta’s exploits as an amateur gymnast; Eddie talks about funny calls he got on C-shift; Chris gushes about the new friends he made at the chess club Ramon enrolled him in – which neither Eddie nor Isabel knew about; Buck obviously talks about Sprout.

Pepa immediately decides that he’s going to inherit some of the stuff she kept around for her little ones and which won’t be in use anymore, since all of her children have decided against having more offspring of their own. She offers a playpen, a changing table, and baby monitors. Buck initially thinks about refusing, but he can’t say he’s mad about being able to save several hundreds of dollars thanks to her kind heart.

Besides, he’s pretty sure he’d have gotten acquainted with the infamous chancla if he’d refused.

The conversation organically dies down, and then, Buck notices Isabel nodding discreetly at her grandson, which prompts Eddie to angle his chair towards his son and clear his throat carefully.

“Mijo, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Chris narrows his eyes. “The way you’re phrasing it is the same as when Buck told me about the baby. Is Marisol pregnant?”

Eddie lets out a startled and incredulous laugh. “No!” then softer “No. But it’s kind of related to that. To Buck, I mean.” He turns his gaze to Buck, who frowns with a quizzical stare of his own.

Eddie turns back to Chris, though.

“As you can imagine, Buck’s loft isn’t exactly safe for a baby or a little child.”

“And he doesn’t have a second bedroom,” Chris continues in a tone that means it’s a travesty. “If he did, I could have had sleepovers there.”

And…well…it sounds like that’s a conversation father and son have had before, and Buck is…what?

“Exactly,” Eddie continues. “So, he has to move. Preferably before the baby is born.”

Chris’s brow furrows and he gets that look on his face that hasn’t changed in the seven years Buck has known him; that look that means he’s deep in thought. “Our house doesn’t have more bedrooms either.”

As if it’d be a given that Buck would move with them.

What the actual fuck?

He tries to pipe up, to intervene, but Eddie stops him and carries on. “That’s why Buck’s been looking at houses where he could move. And,” he smiles, “he found one that he really likes.”

Did he? Did he find a house he really liked? He hasn’t been looking for a few days, and nothing he found appealed to him at all, not since—

No.

“Eddie,” he breathes, incredulous, because his best friend can’t be talking about that house, he can’t.

“Problem is,” and he’s ignored once more, though Isabel’s hand grasps his on the table, providing comfort, “the house Buck likes is really expensive, and he can’t buy it alone.”

Chris seems to get lost in thought again. “Okay. How can we help?”

Buck’s heart soars. This kid……

Eddie’s smile is blinding. “Well… How would you like to live with Buck in the future? In that big house? Along with your little sibling?”

“Eddie,” Buck croaks again.

Eddie blindly reaches for his hand too, which finds itself sandwiched between Eddie’s long fingers and Isabel’s slender ones. But he doesn’t look at Buck, no. He waits.

And Chris doesn’t disappoint. “I’ve wanted us to live together for ages Dad…” He rolls his eyes, matter-of-fact.

“But,” Buck tries again, “how--?”

Eddie finally turns to him, his hand comforting, his gaze soft. “We have an acquaintance who happens to be a landlord,” he starts, “and Ravi spent a lot of time giving me a crash course in landowning and house buying et cetera. I also met the house’s current owner, since it’s not that far from our current street.” He smiles wider. “Apparently, we saved his son’s ass a few years back at a car collision call. So, he was willing to knock the asking price back a bit.” He turns to fully face Buck and his free hand reaches for his wrist. “I’ll sell my house and—”

“And it still wouldn’t be enough. Eddie,” he’s trying, very hard, to make Eddie see sense, because as much as living with the Diazes feels like a dream come true, he can’t imagine it’d be an attainable one.

“Which is why,” Isabel pipes up, and Pepa joins their side of the table, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder too, “Josephina and I are giving you boys some money too. It won’t be much, we’re not rich, but it’s enough to cover the cost of the house, and,” she pinches Buck’s cheek, “you don’t have to worry about paying us back. You can take as long or as slow as you want. The most important thing, is that you feel at home somewhere safe for you, Eddito, Christopher, and your little bebé.”

Buck is unable to do anything else than sob, then.

He feels like he’s the luckiest bastard on Earth; and at the same time, like the biggest fraud ever.

What has he ever done in his life to deserve the Diazes?

Chapter Text

“You are cheating!”

Buck chuckles and knocks sideways into Christopher, making the teenager topple a bit on the couch, where they’ve been sitting playing a new video game for the past hour.

Chris is turning fourteen today.

Fourteen.

God.

Buck was the first to knock on the door that morning, since it’s a Saturday, and he was quick to gift Chris with this very game they are playing right now: the newest iteration of a racing game he’d never heard of before Eddie texted him that it was what Chris wanted for his birthday.

Eddie is currently in the kitchen, fussing about because his aunt and grandmother are all coming to dinner in a few hours, and obviously, everything has to be perfect.

He and Buck – well, mostly Buck – spent most of their morning preparing the meals and leaving them to simmer or marinate, and Chris even gave a helping hand by…sitting there and criticizing their work.

While asked to set the table, at least, he even blatantly refused because, quote, “No one has to do anything on their birthday”. Buck suspects that that particular excuse is going to make a comeback during the holidays. Chris is that cunning.

Anyway, now that the table is set – thanks Eddie – and that the food is waiting, all they have left to do is relax, or, in Eddie’s case, make sure that the fridge hasn’t imploded in the last two minutes since he last checked.

Buck beats Chris at last – he didn’t cheat, promise – and pauses the game before the growing lad has a chance to start a new one. “Let me go fetch your dad before he runs a trench through the kitchen.”

Chris sighs, sits back and grabs his phone, no doubt to check if anyone new sent him a birthday message. “He’s so extra sometimes.”

Buck chuckles, even if the literal meaning of ‘extra’ eludes him.

He finds Eddie scrubbing the kitchen counter with the toothbrush that Buck leaves under the sink for Spring cleaning. He leans in the doorway and crosses his arms. “Expecting a health inspection, Mr Diaz?”

Eddie sighs and stops, his head hanging as he remains hunched over the counter. “Pepa just called.” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and turns to face Buck. “My parents are coming.”

Buck uncrosses his arms and takes a few paces inside the room, frowning. “They are? And they didn’t tell you?”

“Apparently, my mother wanted it to be a surprise for Chris. As if I couldn’t keep the secret.” He hangs his head again. “It feels more like a surprise…uh…what word did you just use? Inspection?”

Buck purses his lips. “Well, Chris is home. And he chose to come home, no matter what your mother has to say about that. I won’t let her ruin Chris’s birthday.”

Eddie smiles, but it looks bitter. “And what do you propose? I can’t very much leave them at the door…”

“I would,” he counters. “If you want, I’ll answer the door. That way, they can blame it on me.”

Eddie’s smile turns fond as he shakes his head. “Thanks, but don’t. Chris deserves to be surrounded by those who love him, and, for better or for worse, they love him too.”

Buck lets out a sigh. “Yeah, can’t deny that at least.” He comes closer, and gently pries the toothbrush out of his best friend’s hand. It takes a few seconds for Eddie to let go of it, and their fingers remain entwined for the time it takes Buck to add “Go and show your son how to win a game of Gran Turismo”.

Eddie pats his shoulder and goes to the living-room, while Buck stares blankly at the kitchen counter, squeezing that blasted toothbrush almost tight enough for it to snap.

He can’t let Ramon and Helena Diaz make Eddie’s life Hell again. He won’t let them.

He needs reinforcements.

Buck [Today, 4:01pm]

hey, ik it’s last min, but can u make it to eddie’s @ 6pm?

u & athena?

Bobby [Today, 4:12pm]

Did you mess up the recipe?

Buck [Today, 4:13pm]

eddie’s parents r coming.

wasn’t planned.

Xpecting them 2 suck.

Bobby [Today, 4:14pm]

We’ll be there.

Despite what Eddie would have wanted, probably, Buck is the one to jump onto the front door once the doorbell rings.

Christopher, as any self-aware teenager would, has stayed on the couch and is pointedly ignoring the fact that those people at the door are here for him. It’d be embarrassing to show excitement, no doubt.

Therefore, Buck swings it open, and finds himself face to face with Eddie’s parents.

Helena is holding a small packet neatly wrapped, and her smile falls once she sees him.

Ramon, behind his wife, is struggling to carry a much larger gift, but he doesn’t bat an eyelash at his appearance.

Behind them both, Isabel and Pepa are leisurely walking to the porch, holding more reasonably-sized gifts themselves, plus, in Pepa’s case, something that suspiciously looks like a cake box.

“Buck,” Helena ‘greets’ – if the blank tone of her voice can be called a greeting. “We were not expecting to see you at our grandson’s birthday.”

Pepa pushes past her sister-in-law and Buck obediently leans down so she can kiss his cheek affectionately. “And where else would he be? Hello, Evanito.” She drops her voice to a secretive whisper. “I brought Eddie’s favourite.” She winks, and treads inside, familiar.

Buck grins as he watches her make her way to the kitchen first. Tres leches. Well, that will bring Eddie’s mood up, at least.

“Hello, Evanito,” Isabel pipes up from behind her son. “Ramon, Helena, will you go in already? This October chill is no good to my poor joints!”

Ramon is the first to move, obviously, conditioned by her motherly tone, but Helena takes the time to glare at Buck some more before she follows her husband. Her foul mood, however, seems not to last too long, because he hears her shout in Christopher’s direction immediately.

The teen’s answer is muffled, but Buck can hear the tone of it. It’s placating.

He smirks, just as Isabel reaches him and offers her own kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s make this a good one, eh?” she says before getting inside.

Buck takes a second to take a deep steadying breath before closing the door and trapping them all with the Diaz parents.

Thankfully, Bobby should be there shortly enough.

Eddie and Buck spend the next hour running from the kitchen to the living-room, serving the hors-d’oeuvres they prepared earlier – all Christopher’s favourites – as well as the drinks.

Chris, in the meantime, regales his guests with what he’s been up to since coming back to Los Angeles. He talks about returning to school and the near standing ovation he received by his classmates – he says it was lame, but the pleased smile on his lips belies that statement – and about meeting Mara properly at the Wilsons earlier that very week, with Denny and Jee-Yun to run interference if it hadn’t gone well.

Obviously, it had gone well, because all the children in Buck’s life are absolute darlings, and Mara Wilson is no exception. She took to Chris like a house on fire and, if Denny remains Chris’s official video-games buddy, Mara seems to have taken a shine to Chris’s mind, and the random facts he spins about almost everything – a trait that Eddie bemoans he got from Buck, and which, obviously, makes said Buck very very proud.

When the doorbell rings again at 6:02 on the dot, Buck is buzzing out of his skin, and Eddie is facing the offending door like it’s going to explode.

“Are you…expecting someone?” he asks, and Buck grins.

“Maybe,” he bumps into his best friend and goes to let Bobby and Athena in.

Athena is radiant in the red fitting dress she donned, looking every inch the Greek goddess she shares her name with; and Bobby, behind her, is wearing his best white shirt with black accents. He carries inside a salad – because he taught Buck to never show up to a dinner invitation without at least some greens – and a small wrapped gift for Christopher.

They reach Eddie first, and their enthusiasm can appear fake to anyone who doesn’t know them, but they are genuine. Athena hugs him before turning to Chris and loudly wishing him the best birthday, while Bobby gives Eddie the salad and a side hug of his own.

While they make their turn with the other guests, Buck turns to Eddie, who looks back at him, a bit stunned.

“You called your parents as reinforcements?”

Buck’s stomach flutters a bit at that statement, because while he does think of the Grant-Nashes as his unofficial parents, it’s never said aloud, ever.

“Well, Bobby’s your Captain too, and Athena loves you. Thought I could use some help defending your honour, and they’re the best I could ever hope to find.”

Eddie shakes his head, but his smile is fond, and he bumps back into Buck, swaying their shoulders together for a moment.

Then, he claps his hands and takes a step towards the chairs Bobby moved in front of the television for him and his wife to sit on. “Alright! Bobby, I’ve got some cans of your fancy water in the fridge, I can offer you pomegranate or lemon. Athena, if you’re up to it, I can whip up a margarita.”

Buck watches him turn into a much less stressed-out host, and thinks that his ploy worked.

Success.

They’re in the middle of their pico de gallo when it starts.

“This is actually very good,” Helena pipes up, almost surprised. “Did you order in?”

Eddie clears his throat, and Buck feels a red mist rise inside him, but Christopher beats them both to it. “Of course not! Buck made it!”

“And your dad,” Buck carries on. “It was a team effort.” He tries a small smile towards Eddie’s parents, but Helena has pinched her lips in distaste.

Chris rolls his eyes but adds “I forgot. Dad can cook, now.”

“Hey, mijo, don’t be like that. I could cook before.”

“Right. Pasta and eggs and bacon. Great.”

Eddie chuckles, despite the jab, and shrugs. “Well, I’ve had a great teacher these past few months.” Buck tilts his head, curious, because they haven’t exactly had time for cooking lessons since May, but instead, Eddie places a hand on his aunt’s wrist. “Every Sunday I had off, eh Tìa?”

Pepa pats his hand with a fond smile. “It was about time someone taught you, sobrino.”

Ramon, clearly uncomfortable about the whole thing, chuckles awkwardly. “Well, I don’t cook, and why would I? I have my dear wife to do it for me!” He wraps a hand on Helena’s shoulder, and she looks smug.

As if it was another jab at their son. That he shouldn’t need to know how to cook if he had a wife to do it for him.

Buck sets his jaw, but Isabel beats him to it too. “And that’s on me. I apologize, Helena. If I had taught my son, he’d have helped more in the house. Like a proper husband.”

Ouch.

OUCH.

Athena finishes to drive the nail home by adding “I can cook pretty well, but since Bobby’s a patented chef, I barely have to.”

Bobby leans in to kiss his wife’s cheek, and adds a smitten “But you do like to help.”

By the way Athena’s gaze turns blazing, Buck has some suspicion about the kind of help she provides. And he immediately shivers, because no one wants to imagine their parents doing that. No one.

The incident over, they move back to the living-room to give Christopher his birthday gifts – and to digest a bit before the cake.

The teenager is ecstatic when he discovers the booklet about the History of Los Angeles that Bobby and Athena bought him – he’s been in a History dive lately – and hugs his Bisabuela tight when he opens her gift and finds a Polaroid camera.

“Chris found Adriana’s old Polaroid in a box when he was with us, and became obsessed with it,” Helena provides with another of those smug smiles. “I’ve still got all of his photos in his room.”

Which isn’t his room anymore, but Buck won’t say that out loud.

“You’ll have to send them here,” Chris says in the most natural tone in the world while assembling his new camera.

Helena looks much less smug all of a sudden.

Pepa gifts her grand-nephew a fancy Marvel-themed cover for his Playstation controller, and then, Eddie gets to give him a yearly pass to the National History Museums of Los Angeles.

When he’s gotten a very manly check for his troubles – “I can’t hug you, Dad, I’m not a kid anymore” – Ramon holds out the smallest of his and Helena’s gifts.

Chris opens the long box gingerly, and his eyes widen when he sees the contents.

“You are becoming a man, nieto,” Ramon says proudly. “And every man needs a good watch.”

Chris brings out said watch. The leather band is obviously brand new – black, practical – but the face looks old, worn in, important. “Is that…” the teenager falters, “is that Bisabuelo’s watch?”

Oh.

Buck’s gaze snaps to Eddie’s, and he finds his best friend squeezing his hands into fists, his jaw set and his eyes suspiciously wet.

Isabel tuts. “Mijo, you seem to have forgotten a generation, there…”

Eddie stands, clears his throat. “It’s alright, Abuela. I don’t wear a watch, anyway.”

And with this blatant lie, he goes to the kitchen to refill his soda.

Buck and Bobby share a glance, and their Captain follows.

Isabel tuts again. “You really are appalling towards that boy, Ramon. I taught you better.”

Helena huffs. “You heard him, he doesn’t wear a watch.” She shrugs.

Buck is seething, and grateful for the hand Athena places in his a moment later.

Chris, thankfully, appears oblivious to the tension in the room.

Fucking Diaz parents.

Christopher is finally handed his last gift: the biggest of all, the biggest that his grandparents brought.

Isabel, who’s sitting next to him on the couch, helps him unwrap the large-ish box, until the front of it is revealed. From his own perch, Buck can see the image of a computer, but he doesn’t know exactly what this is until Helena explains, grabbing her husband’s hand and looking at her grandson with a proud smile. Pride in Chris or pride in herself, Buck has a suspicion that, once again, it’s the latter.

“This is an accessible laptop. We thought that it was about time that you got tools that could help you become more independent. So this has a bigger keyboard, audio-descriptions and voice-activation options.” She grins, as though expecting a burst of happiness from Chris.

But Buck knows what is coming, so he chuckles darkly and crosses his arms, Helena shooting him a quizzical but dark look.

Christopher lets out a little laugh. “That’s great, Grandma, but I already have one.” When her gaze snaps back to him, he shrugs. “Dad bought me one of those ages ago. My first one he bought when we moved here; then this new one was…”

“Last year, buddy,” Buck provides with his own brand of smugness.

Helena glares, fiercely. “Well…we didn’t know.”

“No, you obviously thought Christopher did not have what he needed here. We get it.”

If looks could kill…

“Can I still have it?” Chris asks, and his grandmother looks triumphant for all of three seconds. “My school’s computers suck. And my teachers always say that we can donate anything we want and don’t use. I think it’d be cool to donate it. Someone else might need it. Davy, in my class, he can’t use his hands. The voice activation thing would be useful for him. Can I?” He looks so earnest, so proud of himself for his idea.

Isabel embraces him from the side, and her own smile is a bit vindicative when she looks at her son and daughter-in-law. “What a wonderful idea, chico.”

Helena forces a smile. “Yes, great idea, Christopher. Go ahead.”

“Thanks! Buck,” he looks at him now, an eyebrow raised, “can you put it somewhere? I don’t want to misplace it and put it in the boxes by mistake.”

Buck grins, and moves to grab the computer. “Of course, buddy. Give it here.”

He goes to set it down in the hallway closet where his own pillow and blankets reside, when he hears the conversation veer in a new direction, prompted by Chris’s request.

“Boxes?” Helena asks.

Chris answers as naturally as he always does. “Yeah, the moving boxes. I’ve started to go through my books and toys for the baby, and also putting stuff in there that I won’t need until we are in the new house.”

“Ah, of course, the new house,” Ramon finally pipes up after several minutes of silence.

When Buck goes back to the living-room, he sees that Eddie and Bobby have rejoined them, even if they are standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “You’ve got something to say, Papi?”

Ramon turns to look at his son. “No, just…it’s an unusual choice, that’s all.”

“Unusual,” Eddie repeats, unsurprised.

“You have to admit, mijo, two men moving in together and…taking care of children together… People will talk.”

“People are already talking,” Eddie counters. “Nobody cares.”

Buck feels a lump in his throat. People are talking about him and Eddie? How come he’s not paid attention to that? Other than the jabs that he received at the hand of Gerrard or Lowell when they were still there, of course.

“The child will be…confused,” Helena adds with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Confused by what?” Buck asks, because he knows that ‘the child’ is his baby and not Chris.

“Well it’s bad enough that the mother won’t be in its life, but…what if it thinks Eddie is its father?”

He moves, closer and closer to Eddie, presses himself against his side, as usual, but he can’t answer fast enough for the teenager in the room. “Well if I’m their sibling, then Dad will be their dad. So what?”

Helena splutters, Ramon takes her hand. “What are you talking about, mijo?”

Eddie tenses next to Buck. Christopher is not Ramon’s ‘mijo’, but he and his wife really seem to have forgotten that fact.

“Well, when Buck told me about the baby and asked me to be their Padrino, I asked if I could be godfather and brother at the same time. Because, you know, Buck is basically my other dad at this point. Everyone at school talks about my dads plural. So, you know, if Buck is my other dad, then Dad can be the baby’s other dad. They won’t be confused.”

Buck feels that same proud warmth in his chest, spreading outwards, directed at this wonderful child that apparently really thinks of him as a second father.

The moment could be perfect, if not for the scoff that follows.

“Their Padrino? You asked a child to be your baby’s godfather?!”

Buck purses his lips. He’s getting really tired of Helena Diaz’s judgement and whole character really.

This time, it’s Isabel that answers, and her tone has that maternal disappointment to it that makes the temperature drop several degrees. “Wasn’t Adriana thirteen when you told her she was going to be Christopher’s Madrina?”

“Twelve and a half,” Eddie corrects. “She was twelve and a half.”

Isabel nods, final, then she stands. “Alright, I think this has been going on for long enough. Nieto, let’s bring the cakes. Mijo, Helena, I’d advise you to keep quiet for the remainder of this joyful occasion.”

Ramon looks properly chastised; Helena looks like she has swallowed bitter lemon.

Athena, who’s been glaring for a whole hour by now, but remained silent, takes a graceful sip of her wine, and informs the room that “I may not be on duty, but if I threw anyone out in the street right now, I bet no one would report me”.

Buck loves her.

And gets her a slightly larger slice of cake for it.

(He also gets a slightly larger slice for Isabel; and Eddie gets the tres leches all to himself. As he should.)

Chapter Text

“Honestly, I was surprised that Athena didn’t arrest them there and then. They really are the worst people ever…”

Hen hums as she takes yet another box from Buck’s hands and brings it to the ever-growing pile in her garage. “Your own parents aren’t the best either, as I seem to recall…”

Buck follows her with his coffee table propped in his arms. “My parents ignore me, don’t care about me. Eddie’s parents…it looks like they hate him. And that’s worse.”

She hums again, points at where he can put the table. “It does sound worse. But they’re gone now. And it’s been five days. Is he still hung over it?”

Buck thinks of the two full canvases that Eddie painted that week, once while Buck was in the house, even. He can still see the angry strokes of the paintbrush, the grunts as his best friend spread the colours around, producing a piece that wasn’t anything but a swirl of blues, greens, yellows, reds and oranges, but that looked breathtaking.

“He’s…working on it.”

“Then work on it too.” Hen smirks, and gestures to Buck’s Jeep. “Got anything else?”

He looks at his car too, then shakes his head. “You’ll get my bed once I’m officially moved out. And the few things that are still in my kitchen and bathroom are going to Eddie’s anyway.” He smiles a bit sheepishly. “Thank you so much for doing this, Hen. I really don’t know where I’d have put all this stuff otherwise…”

Hen wraps an arm around his middle. “We’re family. Family helps. And I didn’t want Eddie’s living-room to be filled with boxes for three months. Now come on,” she steers him away from the curb – he quickly locks his car before she closes the garage door – and into the house.

Once it was decided that Buck would move into Eddie’s house for Baby Buckley’s first few weeks – since their new bigger house won’t be theirs until the 3^rd January – Buck could only see all the hurdles in his path: the massive fine he’d have to pay for breaking his lease ten weeks in advance; and where to put all his belongings in the interim.

But, as usual, the 118 proved to be the greatest group of people ever.

Firstly, Hen and Karen offered their mostly vacant garage to store his stuff. Hence why is he here on a Thursday off, playing Tetris with box upon box of whatever crap he kept at the loft.

Secondly, Eddie met with the realtor who sold them the new house, and asked if they could maybe get the keys earlier than the 3^rd, just to be able to put their furniture and the baby’s somewhere safe. Apparently, his charm – or the power of the moustache – worked, and they only have to wait for the 3^rd December to be able to ‘store in, not make alterations to’ their future home.

And finally, Bobby and Athena came forward with the greatest solution possible: they’re taking on the loft until the lease is due. Their own home will be finished in time for Christmas – Bobby is ecstatic – which means that they’re going to save Buck 12.000$. He loves them.

“So, are we going to properly talk about it?” Hen asks after she’s served him lemonade and sat him down at the dining table.

Buck tilts his head in confusion. “What about?”

“You and Eddie moving in a big house together? Raising two kids together? About that?”

He tries not to choke on his drink. “There’s not much to talk about. Eddie would have helped me with the baby anyway, and I really liked this house.”

“Mmh…” Hen has a glint in her eye…like a knowing glint.

Buck deflects. “Besides, we’ll just be housemates. We won’t be sleeping in the same bed, we’ll have our own, individual, bedrooms.” His chest apparently has an opinion about that, because it constricts a bit at the thought, and he doesn’t know why.

Hen smirks. “Any idea why you look disappointed about that?”

He snorts, and deflects again. “Whatever, Henrietta. It’s not like Eddie’s anything else but straight anyway…”

“Right. Just like you weren’t anything else but straight yourself seven months ago.” She winks, and takes a long sip of her own beverage.

He doesn’t answer.

What she’s hinting at is ridiculous, after all…

Eddie…not straight. Pfffff…

Eddie and him…together. Ridiculous. Crazy. Absolutely batshit.

Still, he can’t swallow a single drop of his lemonade after that…

Natalia [Today, 3:06 pm]

Might be late, living wake taking more time than expected.

Will text when I’m on my way.

“Everything okay?”

Buck looks to the side at Maddie, perched on the passenger seat of his Jeep, and sighs.

“Yeah. Nat might be late.” He puts his phone back down and looks beyond his sister, through the window, at the school entrance. Any moment now, Chris is going to burst out those doors, and Buck likes to be prepared – read: to start the Jeep up so they can get out of here before the PTA moms corner him.

“It’s okay,” Maddie soothes, “Chim has Jee for the rest of the day, I’m not in a hurry.”

Today has been thoroughly planned for a week. After dropping most of the loft’s contents at Hen and Karen’s, Buck fetched Maddie at her house, then came here to get Chris from school. They’ll then get home together, and Nat is going to come over to meet them both, and of course, by proxy, Chris and Maddie are going to meet Sprout. Sort of.

As with anything he’s been planning for a certain amount of time, Buck is disheartened by any alteration, be it monumental or not.

Maddie knows him too well, and she swats at his arm to try and stop him from frowning further.

Finally, the school doors open, and a sea of teenagers erupts from them in a parody of a tsunami. At the rear, Buck can see Davy, Chris’s tetraplegic classmate; Gloria, the brown-haired genius who apparently wants to be an astronaut in a totally non-ironic way; and trailing them, gesturing around with one of his crutches, is Christopher.

Everytime he sees him now, ever since Chris got back, Buck is struck with how much he changed, and yet not at all. He may have grown too much, he may have a bad case of the acne and his voice might soon be starting to break, but Christopher Diaz is still the intelligent, kind, funny, sassy and cheeky boy he’s always been.

And Buck is so happy that he’s back where he belongs.

After checking Davy on the shoulder and waving Gloria goodbye, Chris climbs into the Jeep without even an ounce of surprise that it’s Buck fetching him and not his dad or Carla.

“Hey bud,” Buck greets, waiting until Chris has got his seatbelt on before he speeds off. And just in time, because he can see Ms Joan had seen them and started to walk their way.

Chris hums, then realises there’s someone else in the car. “Oh, hey, Maddie!” In the rearview mirror, Buck can see a tiny frown. “Isn’t Jee with you?”

Buck swallows back a laugh. For all his posturing as a ‘grown-up’ who doesn’t want to ‘hang out with babies’, Chris is extremely fond of Jee-Yun, and has always been. Another sign he’s going to be a perfect big brother.

In a few weeks’ time. Oh dear…

Maddie chuckles. “No, her dad fetched her from kindergarten. She’s probably painting his nails right now, so you’ve dodged a bullet.”

Chris hums. “Yeah…”

Buck smiles to himself. He caught Jee showing Chris her impressive collection of nail polish just a week ago, and he’s certain that the teen’s obsession with walking around in socks rather than barefoot as he usually does, has something to do with it.

“Anything interesting happen at school today?” he asks as he weaves through L.A. traffic.

Maddie sends him a bit of a curious gaze, that he ignores, choosing instead to look at Chris in the mirror again.

The teen launches in a ten-minute-long diatribe about his English teacher and how unfair she is to have asked them to make a full presentation on a book chosen at random.

Chris has gotten ‘The Book Thief’ and he’s apparently not happy.

“Have you read it?” he asks at one point, a bit too pointedly.

Buck knows him like the back of his hand, and he snorts. “I’m not doing that presentation for you, Mister. I can help correct your spelling and grammar as I usually do, but all the necessary reading has to be done by you. And in full view of your dad and me. None of that ChatGPT nonsense.”

Chris grumbles. “The teachers always check nowadays anyway…”

“Good. Even though I’m pretty sure they have enough work on their hands at it is…”

Once again, Maddie is looking at him in a mixture of stun and smugness, and he sends her a meek ‘What?’ that she doesn’t answer clearly.

Whatever…

When they get back to South Bedford Street, the alley is void of Eddie’s truck, but it’s not a surprise to Buck.

It is to Chris, though. “Where’s Dad gone?”

Buck gets out of the car, and gets to the trunk to retrieve the two kitchenware boxes that he wasn’t going to leave at Hen’s and that were going to live at Eddie’s for the time being. “He’s at church.” Chris makes a face. “With Bobby. Remember? To talk about the christening?”

“Aaaaah, right. He’s meeting the priest because you feel awkward about it.” He rolls his eyes as he grabs his school bag and trudges up to the porch.

“Eh, I resent that!” Buck fishes his key from his keyring – once again Maddie stares – and lets them into the house.

Chris isn’t entirely wrong, however. Eddie did offer to meet with ‘Bobby’s priest’ to talk religion things, because Buck didn’t know where to start and would have felt like an elephant in a china shop if he’d gone instead.

Besides, any excuse to have Bobby and Eddie bond is a good one in Buck’s book.

While Chris plops down in the dining-room to get started on his homework – Buck is very grateful that the teen hasn’t yet reached the point where that becomes a topic to fight on – he and Maddie head to the kitchen so he can put his things away.

He’s surprised, though, to find a vacant cardboard box and a roll of garbage bags waiting for him with a note in Eddie’s hurried scribble taped to them.

‘Go through the cupboards. Bags are for anything you want to throw out – if you have doubts put those things aside, we’ll go through them later; box is for anything you want to donate. Reorganise as you see fit. Mi casa es su casa. Literally. Eddie x’

“Uh…” Maddie is looking around his body, reading the note with wide brown eyes.

He doesn’t know why she acts surprised. This isn’t surprising at all. Buck and Eddie – and Chris and Sprout – are going to live together soon. Everything of theirs is going to be shared, so it makes sense that they sort through their stuff and get rid of anything broken, chipped, dulled – and those three things fill Eddie’s cupboards – or dated, to replace with newer or more reliable appliances and kitchenware.

“This is…” Maddie pipes up, because he raises a brow at her, no doubt. “It’s all very domestic, isn’t it?”

Buck shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

She looks at him as if he’s just sprouted a third eye or something, but she doesn’t push the matter.

Buck doesn’t either, and is grateful when she offers to help him sort through the immense amount of mugs that Eddie has – more than half of which he doesn’t use, doesn’t like, or has already broken.

When Nat eventually arrives – forty-seven minutes late, but who’s counting – Maddie and Chris have migrated to the couch and are discussing baby names. Buck is trying, honest, to pay attention to their suggestions, but he’s mostly focussed on the way Nat is late, and anything could happen on the road, and she’s eight months pregnant.

But she makes it, and as soon as he hears her car pull up front, he wrenches the front door open to welcome her.

She looks lovely, as she always does, but there’s a definite waddle to her gait, now, and she’s also a bit more irritable – he thinks it’s the back pains. Which is why she rolls her eyes upon seeing him, and waddles to his side with a dry “You do realise I’ve got a life, don’t you?”

He purses his lips. “Anything could happen to you on the road.” He crouches, as he usually does now when he sees her, and addresses her bump. “Hello my little Sprout. How are you doing today?”

“They’re a pain in the ass. If one day you tell me that your child has become a professional soccer player, I won’t be surprised.” Nat groans, arches her back a bit. “They weigh a ton.”

“Actually, they weigh 6 pounds 17. Hardly a ton.”

“Try to say that to my vertebras,” she groans again.

Buck stands up, frowning. “Maybe driving isn’t a good idea at this point. Mustn’t help.”

Nat glares at him a bit. “Are you suggesting I get a chauffeur?” He doesn’t have time to light up with a ‘Yeah, actually, that’s perfect’ that she counters with a “If so, you’re paying.”

And before he can answer that, she strides inside the house, as if she’s been here before.

Which she hasn’t.

Because this is Eddie’s house.

When he closes the door behind him, Natalia is greeting Maddie warmly, and Chris is standing next to the couch, studying her in that falsely-detached way of his.

“Your feet must be killing you,” Maddie commiserates, and Nat has found a kindred spirit and clings to it.

“Ugh, you have no idea. Thankfully, I’ve got a massage therapist that our OB/Gyn recommended. He does wonders.” She then takes her coat off, and Buck moves to take it from her, like the good host he’s supposed to be. “Thanks, Buck. But, to be honest,” she groans and arches her back again, “the worst part of this isn’t the pains or bloating. It’s the peeing. I need to go all the time. And, as a matter of fact…” she trails off, but stares pointedly at Buck.

“Oh, sure.” He directs her to the bathroom, and while she’s gone, he hangs her coat and bag before turning to Chris. “Everything alright?”

“She hasn’t said a word to me,” the teen says crossly.

Maddie tuts. “She will. You heard her, she needed to go to the bathroom.”

“It could have been a lie,” Chris answers, flopping down onto the couch.

Maddie sends Buck an amused glance, and sits next to him. “It wasn’t. I can tell you, this far along, the baby is pushing hard on Natalia’s bladder. I was the same, when I was pregnant with Jee. And I know your mom was the same pregnant with you.”

Chris’s brow furrows. “Mom never talked about when she was pregnant with me.”

And Buck knows there are a thousand reasons for that, most of which have to do with the stress Shannon was under at that time, with all the expectations put on her and Eddie’s shoulders, the shotgun wedding, the buying of a house, the jobs they both had to find asap…

Her pregnancy mustn’t have been a joyous thing to remember…

“Well, just by looking at you now, I can hazard a guess and say you were a big baby. You surely were a terror to her bladder.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but there is a small smile on his lips all the same.

Nat returns at that point, with a relieved sigh. “Sorry about that. Hello, you must be Christopher!” She waddles around the couch, and outstretches a hand for him to shake.

Chris does shake her hand, but it only lasts a second, because Nat then yelps and presses both hands to her belly.

Buck is at her side in a flash. “What is it? Are you having contractions? Is it time? Oh my god, is it time?”

Natalia sends him a stare that means she is doubting his mental capacities, and his own sister is holding in a laugh, which, rude. “You need to relax, Evan Buckley.” She gestures to the couch in a silent question, and Maddie moves so that Nat can sit between her and Chris. “Your child has the hiccups.” She winces again, and presses her fingers harder in one spot. “I swear I’m bruised inside.”

Maddie has that sympathetic look on her face again. “I know the feeling.”

Nat smiles at her before turning to Chris, who’s staring at her as if she is a strange creature he’s never encountered before. Buck is then struck by the fact that, even though he dotes on Jee, Chris wasn’t there when Maddie was pregnant. None of them were, thanks to Covid. And, from what Eddie told him, Sophia’s pregnancies happened when he was too little to remember.

Natalia is officially the first pregnant woman Chris is interacting with.

“Do you want to feel?” she offers the teen, whose eyes double in size behind his glasses.

“Feel? The hiccups?”

“Yeah! You can feel them moving around too. Just if you want,” she adds, making sure he doesn’t feel pressured.

Chris hesitates.

Maddie pipes up “Can I?”

Nat smiles at Chris again, then nods at Maddie before taking her hand and pressing it where Sprout is wreaking havoc inside her. After a few seconds, Maddie squeaks a bit.

She grins, and turns her eyes to Nat’s bump. “Hey there, precious. You need to calm down, those hiccups aren’t doing Natalia any favours…”

Chris looks even more puzzled. “You…does the baby hear?”

Buck, perched now on the coffee table, chuckles. “Yes, they do hear. It’s actually something the doctors want us to do, to talk to the baby. That way, when they’re born, they can recognize the voices of those around them, and be less stressed when meeting new people.”

The teen looks stunned. He turns his wide blue eyes to Nat. “Can I now? Please?”

“Of course. You’re the big brother,” she grins, and she gently takes his hand to press to the same spot she did Maddie.

It takes a bit longer, but Buck is focussed on Nat’s belly, and he sees the skin move, at the same time as Chris gasps and jerks away before immediately putting his hand back where it was. “Hey…” he breathes gently.

He sends Buck an incredulous look, and Buck nods encouragingly. “Go on. Talk to them.”

Chris leans down then, in a position that his PT is not going to like, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Hey there. I’m Christopher. Chris. Your Padrino. And your brother.” Buck exchanges fond looks with both Nat and Maddie. Another hiccup shows on Nat’s bump. “You need to hold your breath. That’s always what works for when I have the hiccups. When you’re here, I’ll give you all the tricks I know. In secret, though, because our dads can’t know all of them.” Buck’s heart jumps in his chest at that. Our dads. “You’ll see, they’re the best dads ever. Well, not all the time. They can be a pain, too. They’ll force you to eat broccoli, they won’t let you play videogames all day, they’ll embarrass you in front of your friends, and they’ll be idiots most of the time…but they’re great. You’ll love them.”

Maddie reaches a hand to Buck’s knee, and he realises he’s crying.

Nat’s eyes aren’t dry either, to think of it. She’s looking at Chris as if he’s miraculous, and Buck knows the feeling. He’s had the same lingering one ever since he met the boy.

“I’m sorting through my things, right now. I hope you’ll like LEGOs, I’ve got too many of them. I’ll give you my toy dinosaurs too, I’ve outgrown them. I don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl, but even Jee likes my dinosaurs, so I know it won’t make a difference.” Chris pauses, a small smile forming on his lips. “Hey, the hiccups have stopped.”

“They were listening to you,” Nat provides in an emotional voice. “Well done, Chris.”

The teen sits back up, grinning. Then, he must think the whole thing is too sappy for the ‘grown-up man’ he is, because he purses his lips. “You’re welcome.” He chews on his bottom lip then, before asking sheepishly “Can I speak to them again soon?”

Nat chuckles. “Of course you can. You can even come to our next sonogram, it should be after school hours.” She looks at Buck. “Your choice, Dad.”

Buck wipes at his eyes and sniffs. “Yeah. Sure.”

Chris groans. “You’re not crying now, Buck.”

“I am, and you’ll let me, Christopher Diaz.”

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too.

Maddie was much more discreet in her own wiping of tears, and she stands from the couch. “Natalia, do you want anything to drink? I need a glass of water…”

Nat groans. “Yeah, that’d be great… I’m just…” she stands, “going to visit the bathroom again.”

Buck chuckles too, and follows his sister to the kitchen.

He stops behind the couch, and leans over it to kiss Chris on his curls, though. Despite a meagre complaint, he adds “I’m so proud of you, Chris. You’re going to be the best big brother in the world.”

For once, the teen doesn’t say anything sassy back…

Chapter Text

Halloween at the 118 has always been a big affair, but this year, Bobby wanted to create a bespoke haunted mansion for all the kids who would brave the night to come trick and treating.

Buck has found a few really cool things to put here and there – he hesitated to buy a super realistic coffin with a skeleton because something felt fishy – and has spent the majority of his 31^st October placing them around the area Bobby designated as The Haunted Maze™.

Admittedly, he also spent the majority of his day checking his phone, because Nat is now officially sixteen days from her due date, and she could call him at any time to tell him she’s going into labour.

Once she hit the 38^th week mark, he’s been unable to fully rest, waking up every hour or so as his subconscious screamed at him to check his phone. There’s never been any call or text, though, so, most of the time, he used the hours he kept awake to finish putting his things at the loft in boxes.

He’s moving at Eddie’s tomorrow. And, from then on, they’re going to be living together, possibly forever.

It’s…

Overwhelming in the best of ways, but Buck tries not to focus on that too much; it usually brings up tears.

“Lookth amazing, Buck, well dzone!”

He puts the last flourishes on a bloody handprint on a window leading to the maze, and turns to grin proudly at Bobby.

Bobby, who’s donned a costume of Count Dracula – cheesy – and whose fangs are giving him an endearing lisp, but don’t tell him that.

“Looks scary enough?” Buck asks, a bit sheepish still.

Bobby looks past him, into the station, at the graveyard where he and Eddie are going to be standing guard; at the bit of mad scientist’s lab he built for Hen; and at the standing coffin Bobby himself is going to be repeatedly jumping out of all night.

“It’th perfect, kidz.” Bobby smiles, the fangs distorting it a bit, and pats him on the shoulder. “Go get readzy.”

Buck feels a swoop in his stomach. Eddie must already be in costume, he’s talked of nothing else all day.

And, sure enough, as he gets into the open space, he can see his best friend, organizing the piles of candy and fruit, the gold of his jacket stained with deep red.

Since Eddie was adamant that he was going to be Freddie Mercury for Halloween – thanks to his annoyingly cute moustache – he and Buck have twisted a story about a celebrity graveyard, à la Thriller. Buck found a cardboard cutout of Michael Jackson in the clip, as well as an Elvis, and he gave them gruesome false blood wounds to perfect the effect.

Eddie would be a zombified Freddie Mercury, Buck a murderous Brian May.

As he dons the wig, white shirt stained with red, and black vest, he smiles to his reflection in the mirror. It’s a silly idea, really, but only he and Eddie could come up with something original. Not like Dracula or Michael Myers, which are basic.

He’s been nearly bashing people’s heads in with his bloody guitar for about two hours by now. Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t seem to faze the older kids who are much more startled by Eddie’s white contact lens. Go figure.

So far, of all the people they know, only the Wilsons have come by. He nearly died by cuteness overload when Jee appeared in her Toto outfit, but she was much more interested in Bobby’s teeth, and he didn’t want to transfer any of the false blood he’d doused himself in by hugging her too tight. Karen would have murdered him.

It’s around 9pm – he’s just checked his phone just in case Nat needed him – when he finally hears Chris’s voice.

First, it’s another boy’s excited ‘This is so cool! And your dads work here?’ that alerts both Buck and Eddie that the teenager in the house has finally deemed the fire station worthy of his presence. He’s been trick or treating with Davy, Davy’s big brother Jake, and Jake’s girlfriend Nadia. All of whom Buck did a background check on, because.

Chris’s unenthused “Yeah, I guess it’d kinda cool” makes Buck roll his eyes and Eddie groan behind his gravestone. The lack of excitement in Christopher lately is…tiring, to say the least. To try and get him to admit that he’s happy about something is becoming a steep cliff to climb.

“Prepare to be daaaaaazed!” shouts Bobby ahead of them, and a couple of the kids yelp in surprise, before laughing. It’s been like this all night: a jump scare, then deep belly laughter that Bobby looks unsure he should be proud of.

“Hey Bobby,” Chris’s voice sounds. “Cool costume.” A pause. “This is Bobby, my dads’ Captain.”

“Hey Bobby” sounds the chorus of voices, and Buck snorts. So much for Big Scary Vampire Bobby Nash.

“Hey Chrith. I like yours too.”

“I’m a Cyberman. Davy likes that show, Doctor Who, and it’s the least embarrassing costume he could come up with, so…”

Bobby’s chuckle echoes around them. “Well, it’th not embarrassing at all, you look great. You all dzo. Go on. I have to thcare other kidz now.”

“You’ll try,” Chris sasses back, but Buck and Eddie can hear the laughter coming closer.

They exchange a look, wait for the opportune moment.

“Wow, this is sick!” someone says, and it’s not Davy’s voice, so it must be his brother Jake’s.

“Diiiiiiiiiie!” Eddie and Buck cry at the same time, erupting from behind their designated gravestones. Eddie calls for brains while approaching his son in his robot – sorry,  Cyberman – outfit, and Buck starts running after poor Nadia, who looks terrified of him, or his bloody guitar, who knows.

He chases her around a bit, until she hides behind Michael Jackson’s figure, and Jake comes to her rescue.

Chris, unsurprisingly, isn’t fazed at all.

“It’s okay, Nadia, you can come out. It’s just Buck.”

“I resent that,” he groans. “I’m not Buck. I’m Sir Brian May, and I’m gonna kill you all.”

“Right,” Chris rolls his eyes. “Before or after Dad here eats our brains?”

Eddie, who’s currently praising Davy for his own costume – one that encompasses his whole wheelchair too, very clever, though Buck doesn’t have any idea what he’s supposed to be, with what looks like a plunger taped to his forehead.

“You need to stop being this sassy, Mister. We worked hard on this.”

And, miracle of all miracles, Chris actually makes an impressed face. “I must say, it’s kinda cool. You could have chosen more modern singers instead of dead ones, but it’s cool.”

“Very cool!” Jake repeats. “I really like what you’ve done with the guitar!”

Right. Buck hands it to the teenager – eighteen-year-old, heading to college to study cinema – and lets him geek out on the model, the way he painted fake blood in realistic patterns and added a bit of gunk to it – strands of fake hair and pieces of what should be brain matter. All the while, Chris seems rather proud that his friends are finding his dads cool.

Buck dares offer the kid a half hug, and Chris doesn’t push him away immediately, which is a win. They’ve grown closer, these past weeks, especially since the day Chris came to Natalia’s appointment and was able to see his sibling on the screen.

He’s been helping more and more to pick up furniture and stuff for the baby, too. Reading comments and chasing ratings for each product Buck talks about, just to make sure it’s the best.

“Go on,” Eddie says after a while, “you’ve got a few more surprises until you reach the goodies.” He stops Jake with a hand on his arm – the kid is dressed in a hat, a long rainbow-coloured scarf, and a long brown trench coat. “10:30 pm at the latest. His carer will be waiting.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Diaz,” Jake answers with a smile, “we kept you guys for last. We’re heading back after this, to count our booty and distribute it equally. That’s how my mom does it anyway.”

“Your mom’s smart. Say hello for us.” Eddie smiles and pats the kid on the shoulder to send him on his merry way.

He rejoins Buck behind the gravestones, and both exchange a giddy grin.

“We’re cool dads, Eds,” Buck says between two bouts of elated laughter.

“I can still hear you, and you’re losing coolness points, Buck!” comes Chris’s shout from ahead in the maze.

He and Eddie are still laughing when the next group of children comes through. Strangely enough, laughter paired with their appearance scares them more than whatever they were doing before…

Hen @ The 118 [Today, 2:35 am]

Denny’s alright. They’re keeping him for the rest of the night. He can come home in the morning. xxx

“Denny’s okay,” Buck breathes out in relief, hearing Eddie come out from the bathroom behind him. The ping in his friend’s phone obviously means he got Hen’s message too, but since they are in the same place now, no need to wait for him to read it. “He’s going home in the morning.”

Eddie sighs too. “That’s great. We’ll tell Chris first thing.”

“Knowing the kid, he’s currently pretending to sleep and spamming Denny with texts to know firsthand.”

Eddie chuckles in assent, and rounds the couch to grab his own phone on the coffee table.

Buck’s gasp makes him freeze.

Because Eddie went to the bathroom to get rid of the excess red and pink dye on his face; and he came out without……

“Where’s your moustache?” Buck’s voice is tinted with something akin to grief, which makes the other man laugh.

“I told you I’d get rid of it after Halloween. I promised Chris I would!”

Buck pouts. “I know, but… You didn’t even give me time to say goodbye…”

As much as Eddie is unfairly handsome all the time no matter what, Buck is going to miss his stache. It was…sexy is the first word that comes to mind, but Buck pushes that aside. It’s not proper to use such a word to talk about one’s friend.

Eddie smirks and plops down on the couch next to him. “I’m sorry. Did you want to make an in memoriam in its honour? Host a funeral? We could talk to Natalia about that, if you want…”

Buck groans and bumps into him, prompting more laughter. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck, that I didn’t give you a ten minutes heads-up about my shaving. Will you find it in yourself to forgive me?” Eddie leans into him back, and stays there, batting his stupidly long eyelashes.

Buck hates those expressive cow eyes of his.

“That depends,” he hums, “on whether you’ll let me finish the tub of chocolate fudge or not.”

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his heart like a Victorian lady. “You’d never!”

“It’s my price, Eds. Do you want me to forgive you for your terrible lack of judgement, or don’t you?”

Eddie’s laughter is a thing of beauty. After not hearing it for so long, before Chris came back, it’s a sound Buck cherishes every time he hears it.

The brunette gets up from the couch, defeatist. “Alright, I’ll go fetch it for you. But don’t blame me at 8 am when Chris wakes you up and you’ve had two hours of sleep because of too much sugar.”

“Whatever…” He’s grinning too much to care.

Instead, he stands to fetch his pillow and blankets, ready to spend the night on his favourite couch.

Buck is loath to admit it, but Eddie was right. When Chris gets up at 7:50 to go to the bathroom, and inevitably wakes him up, Buck has probably gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. But the ice-cream was worth it. That’s what he chooses to focus on, anyway.

Since he’s awake, he moves to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. Eddie’s a light sleeper, and surely has heard his son’s pitter-patter by now. He starts with coffee, then ponders. Is this a day for pancakes, omelettes, eggs and bacon, cereal?

Chris takes the choice out of his hands when he enters the room, hair mussed, grumpy look on his face, and demands bacon. When Eddie joins them about ten minutes later, dressed and looking fresh as a daisy, he laughs at the two sleepy heads that greet him, and sends Buck to the bathroom while taking his place at the stove.

The 1^st November has always been a grand affair in the Diaz household. They celebrate Dia de Muertos on that day – granted they have off – and their little rituals are always the same: prepare pan de Muerto together; put together the ofrenda in the living-room, then invite Buck over to watch Coco.

Every single year.

This year, though, obviously, Buck is there from the get-go. And he doesn’t want to intrude on family traditions.

That thought gets buried right on when Eddie asks him to start the oven, and Buck understands he’s been unknowingly enrolled in making the pan de Muerto. Surprisingly, Chris doesn’t grumble or drag his feet or anything, unlike any other time they try to have him cook with them lately.

Once the bread is in the oven, they all move to the building of the ofrenda. Chris takes down the frames and decorations on the buffet they always use; and Eddie retrieves the stuff he has in his attic to decorate.

Chris directs Buck with placing calaveras and flower petals in an harmonious way; and Eddie gently takes out the various pictures they’re putting up.

Chris takes them from his Dad, and puts them down according to, apparently, a very specific order.

“Hello Abuelito,” he talks to Isabel’s husband, Oscar, as he places him to the left and near the front. “Hello Tio Pedro,” he repeats as he takes the photo of a man Buck knows to have been Isabel’s brother. Follow three women from Oscar’s side of the family; and two more men from Isabel’s; then Helena’s parents, which Chris places at the back.

There are only two frames left in Eddie’s hands.

The first, Chris places on the right. “Hi Grams.” It’s Lucy, Shannon’s mother.

The final frame, obviously, is Shannon herself. Eddie caresses the glass with a wistful smile before giving it to his son. Chris puts her at the front, where she ought to be, and starts a conversation with her about what he’s been up to that Halloween.

Eddie claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder and they both move back to leave the teenager to it.

“Does he always do that?”

“Yeah. He can spend hours talking to her on Dia de Muertos. It’s the day she can hear him, after all…” His smile is soft, fond, before it turns a bit mischievous as he looks back at Buck. “Hold on. I’ve got a frame for you to put up.”

Buck frowns, looks at his friend as he goes to his bedroom and comes back, the same amused look on his face. He presents Buck with a small frame, and chuckles to himself.

“You…” there are no insults strong enough, nor laughter loud enough, to translate what Buck feels right then.

Eddie made a frame out of a zoomed picture…of his moustache.

“That way you can grieve it properly.”

“I hate you.”

Eddie leans in, cheeky. “No, you don’t.”

And…well…no, Buck doesn’t. He absolutely doesn’t.

So he goes to the ofrenda, and asks Chris where he can put his own frame. The teen sends him a judgemental look when he sees the photo, and places it at the far back of all the others, hidden by some of his Tias and Tios. But, then, he looks at Buck with a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Hey, since we are living together now, you can put your own pictures on the ofrenda, if you want. Next year, we can move it to a bigger place.”

Buck embraces the kid in a side hug. “Thanks, Chris. That’d be great.”

Then, he thinks. Who would he put up there? Who has he lost that he regrets, truly? He didn’t know his grandparents, can’t possibly put any person he’s lost on call on here…

It strikes him with a pang.

Daniel.

And then, he thinks, ‘Yes. Next year, I’ll put Daniel up there.’

Chapter Text

“Alright, what’s next?”

“You need Screw B to hold Bars A and D together.”

“Which one is Screw B?”

“The little one, Buck!” Chris rolls his eyes and points uselessly at the pile of screws of various sizes that is spread on the coffee table.

Buck chuckles. Why he thought building Sprout’s changing table with Christopher as a ‘helper’ was a good idea, he doesn’t know. This is a disaster. “Alright, give me the instructions. I must have gone wrong somewhere.”

“No shit.”

“Language!” sounds from the kitchen, and Chris and Buck both laugh at this.

Eddie is currently unpacking the ‘baby kitchen stuff’: baby bottles of all sizes, special ‘bottle tree’ to let them dry after washing them, electric bottle warmer, small bowls and spoons for when the baby can eat solids…

They’re taking advantage of their last day off in common before Nat’s due date. Buck is trying – and failing – to not freak out.

He turns back to the changing table. Eddie, who’s now in the doorway, his arms crossed and a definite mocking look on his face, snorts.

“Thank God the crib is a foldable one, eh?”

Buck glares at his best friend. “If you’re done with your tidying, you could offer to come and help me!”

Eddie puts his hands up innocently. “Oh no, I’ve got loads to do still! Unpacking the mountains of diapers and clothes you brought home, for example?”

“You can use the top left drawer in your dresser, I put your socks and mine in the other.” Eddie shakes his head fondly, and Buck shouts at his back “Don’t forget to sort the diapers by size!”

“I knoooooow!” echoes behind his best friend.

Christopher sighs. “Are we finishing this today, or….?”

Buck turns back to his unfinished piece of furniture. “I’m not helping you whenever you move out and need to build a coffee table or a wardrobe, Mister.”

Chris shrugs, unfazed. “It’s alright. I’ll ask Dad to do it.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Buck huffs with a smile before finally finding the elusive Screw B.

Chris rolls his eyes again. “I know.”

Once the baby furniture is built – after about two hours of struggling – and squeezed into Eddie’s bedroom – since that’s where the baby – and Buck – are going to sleep until the big move, all three of the boys order takeout and flop onto the couch to watch Gladiator.

Chris is currently very passionate about the Roman Empire, and he wants to see the second movie in the cinema – with his friends, because who goes to the cinema with their parents once they turn fourteen, after all.

Buck has never seen it before, but he gets why he always heard about it. It’s really engaging, the main character is badass and charismatic – and rather hot in those gladiatorial clothes, too – the music is outstanding, and Chris is piping up about real-life Commodus and Marcus Aurelius and what-not, making it all the more interesting.

“You think one day we can go there? On holiday or something?” The teen asks as Maximus and his fellow gladiators are paraded through the streets of Rome.

Eddie hums. “I’ve always wanted to see Florence. It’s said to be super beautiful too…” He looks aside at his son. “Maybe we can make a trip out of it. Visit several cities in Italy in the same sweep.”

Chris smiles. “Yeah! I’d like to see Pompeii too!”

Buck would very much like to see Pompeii as well, actually. But he doesn’t want to assume that the Diazes would invite him on their History-filled holiday, either.

“But you’ll have to wait until your sibling is old enough. We can’t travel with a baby or a toddler who won’t remember anything. What do you reckon, Buck? Seven is a good age to start holidaying, right?”

It takes him a good five seconds to realise what Eddie just said, and another five to understand.

They’d want to go to Italy with him and Sprout. To make a family holiday out of it.

Oh, fuck, what is his heart doing right now? Is it trying to poke out of his chest or something?

He rubs the space above his heart absent-mindedly as he answers. “Yeah, I think seven is a good age.”

“Alright, then, deal,” Chris concludes before focussing back on the movie.

Eddie is smiling fondly, and exchanges a soft look with Buck, whose heart is still doing somersaults in his chest.

Later, after Chris has gone to bed – and tried to negotiate a later bedtime, to no avail – Eddie and Buck find themselves in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher and putting leftovers in containers for tomorrow.

In the comfortable silence, Buck can’t help but look at the baby stuff scattered around the room, and he’s filled with a mix of elation, excitement, and dread. He just hopes he’ll be a good Dad. He has to be a good Dad. He can’t fail Sprout. That’s a no brainer.

“Hey, Buck, can I talk to you about something?” Eddie asks, almost whispers, in the silence.

Buck hums, because of course, Eddie can always talk to him about anything and everything.

“You know how I met Father Brian a couple of times by now? Bobby’s priest?”

And, of course Buck knows. He’d have been worried, actually, if Father Brian wasn’t inherently a non-threat. “Yeah. To talk about the baby’s christening.”

“Yeah, well, not only.” Buck focusses back on his friend, who’s leaning back on the kitchen counter, and avoiding his gaze. “It doesn’t actually take more than two meetings to organise something like that.” He bites his lip. “I actually talk to him. A lot.”

“Like, in confession or something?”

“At first, but now…no. It’s weird, I talk to him about stuff I should tell a therapist, but, somehow…” he trails off, apparently incapable to finishing his own thought.

Buck gets it anyway. “You feel more comfortable with him than with Frank.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out, like a relieved sigh. “He’s around our age, that helps too.”

Buck’s eyes widen. Oh, he didn’t know that. He thought all priests were old. But if Father Brian is their age, and maybe not ugly, then…

Then what?

Why does Buck feel like a priest would be threat to Eddie’s wellbeing? He’s going crazy, it’s official.

“Anyway, we’ve met a few times, by now, and he’s helped me realise some things. About myself.”

Buck nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“He helped me realise that, because of the way my parents raised me, I’m…I’ve been denying myself the simple things. Like, it’s stupid, but, we went for a drink, and instead of grabbing juice like I wanted, I bought water because I thought that’s what was expected of me.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair, a look of self-deprecation on his face. “Thanks Catholic guilt, I guess.” He chuckles darkly. “After that, I started thinking about other stuff. Like, what I really felt for Shannon, and all…”

He looks up at Buck, helplessly, but he still doesn’t talk. He lets Eddie decide the pace of this conversation, even if his heart is starting to beat hard again in anticipation of…something.

“She was my best friend. We were inseparable at school and out of it. But because of what my parents and other people were repeating day in day out, I thought I had to date her. Because a guy and a girl who hang out together have to be dating, right? So I had to date her, had to kiss her, had to take her places… Had to have sex with her.”

Buck’s breath catches at the implication. “You…didn’t want to have sex with her?”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ve never been interested in sex the way other people,” he gestures at Buck without judgement, “are. I don’t…I don’t need it. I never did. And with Shannon, at first, it was like…’I have to do this, it’s what boys my age do’, right? And then, she became pregnant, and we had to get married and all… And married couples have sex. So we had sex.”

“Didn’t you…like it at all?”

“I did…” Eddie chuckles darkly again, “And I had a big long thought about it. I started liking it when…when I started knowing Shannon better, better than the superficial. When you live with someone, spend all your time with them, you inevitably discover more about them, and form a different bond than with someone you wouldn’t be living with. And that’s when I started…liking it more.” He sighs. “Then I left for the Army, we fell apart, and it became a chore again. Then I moved here, found her again, and it was expected of us, you know. To try and reconnect. And then, with Ana, the mere thought of it…I couldn’t. And with Marisol, well, you know about that…”

There’s a silence, Eddie avoiding Buck’s gaze again, and he counts ten breaths before talking.

“Are you ace? You think?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I looked into it. Hen and Karen helped too.” He smiles, his affection for their friends showing on his face. “I think I’m demisexual. I need connection to feel sexual desire and, to an extent, pleasure.”

Buck feels his lips twist into a slow but wide smile that turns into a proud grin. “That’s amazing, Eddie. Thank you for telling me. I’m proud of you, for looking into all that.” He closes the distance between them and hugs Eddie tight.

The other man melts into his embrace and mumbles into his shoulder “Well, I had to find out what was wrong with me…”

Buck snorts. “And turns out nothing is…”

Eddie squeezes him tighter.

And when Buck eventually goes to sleep on the couch, it’s with the intention of reading all he can find on demisexuality as soon as he wakes up…

The next day, while Eddie is at work and Buck isn’t, he gets permission from the real estate agent to go to the new house to measure some stuff out for the future nursery. Chris, of course, tags along.

Buck is still reeling from Eddie’s confession and subsequent coming out, to be honest, and is a bit distracted. Thankfully, Chris never fails to bring him back to the task at hand, the list of walls and windows to measure in hand, and stern voice in place.

Still…between two walls, Buck can’t help but think about Eddie.

Demisexual. That’s something that makes so much sense for Eddie. Buck feels stupid for not having thought of it before… But there’s a small part of him that wonders… Does it mean Eddie could fall in love with a man as well as a woman?

And why exactly is that thought cycling through his mind again and again?

“What do you think?” Chris shakes him off his thoughts again.

They are standing in Sprout’s future bedroom, and the teenager is now holding small pieces of paper with different colours on them. They got them from the store earlier that morning.

“Which one do you prefer?” he asks, to hide the fact that he hasn’t been paying attention for the last couple of minutes.

Chris hums, pushes to the side two shades of yellow. “I don’t think yellow is good. It’s a bit dumb, I think.” He brings forth three different greens. “I like these.”

Buck chuckles. “We can’t have three different colours in one room, Christopher.”

“Bisabuela says we can have two,” the teen amends. He hums again, and pushes aside another shade, the darkest of the three. Leaves two lovely greens: one that looks like the colour of young leaves, soft; the other a stronger one, closer to pine needles. “I reckon we could do one wall in the darker shade and the other three in the lighter one. Right?”

And he looks so focussed, so involved, that Buck can’t help but smile softly.

He comes closer and examines those greens that Chris seems to like so much.

He supposes that a neutral colour is best. He doesn’t like the ‘tradition’ of pink and blue, at all. Besides, green is the colour for new things, health and nature. He likes that.

So he nods. “I think you have a good eye, Christopher Diaz.”

The teen snorts. “Thanks.”

“Alright, so let’s go choose the palette for your own room, and we’re good.”

Chris nods solemnly, but in the end, it takes him two minutes to choose the two shades of blue he wants for his own room, one nearly black like the night sky, and the other lighter, grey-blue.

They end up at a diner nearby, and in the middle of their burgers, Chris pushes his phone towards Buck.

At first, he doesn’t get it, but once his eyes fall onto the screen, he understands.

It’s a list.

A list of names.

Not baby names, though, no.

It’s a list of variations of the word ‘Dad’.

Daddy. Papa. Papì. Father. Padre. Pa. Da. Baba.

Buck looks up with a quizzical brow. Chris stares at his plate pointedly.

“Chris? What’s this?”

The teen avoids his gaze as he answers. “I wondered what you wanted to be called.”

“By?”

Chris bites his lip, shrugs. “The baby. And…me. I guess. If you want.”

Buck’s heart does somersaults. “You want to call me something else than ‘Buck’?”

Chris shrugs again. “I just thought: Dad is Dad. It’d be easier if he was Dad for the baby too. Less confusing. Which means that you need another name. But then, if I call you ‘Buck’ in front of them, they won’t understand who I’m talking about, so…” he shrugs once more.

Buck grins, reaches across the table and places his hand on the teenager’s wrist. “That’s a great idea, Chris. But, you know, kids are much cleverer than we give them credit for. If you tell them that your Buck is their father, they’ll get it.”

“You want me to keep calling you Buck.” It’s not a question, but the disappointment is palpable.

Buck shakes his head. “I want you to call me whatever you want. Which one of these names do you like best?” He pushes the phone back so Chris can look at the list again, but apparently, he’s memorised it.

“I can’t call you ‘Daddy’. The Internet made that weird.” He makes a face, and Buck vouches to talk to him about what he saw on the net about the other meaning of ‘Daddy’, because uh… “I like Pa. Or Papa.”

Buck grins again. “We’ll see when the time comes what the baby chooses between the two. You’re welcome to use either.”

Chris tries to downplay it, but his lips are upturned in a half-hidden smile. “You don’t mind, then?”

“Christopher… I’m still trying to compute the fact that you think of me as a second dad. I’m not going to mind you making it a bit official.” He chuckles when Chris rolls his eyes. It’s become routine, at this point.

“Obviously you’re my second dad. I should have said it to you a long time ago, because you’re being dumb about it, and truth is, I’ve been telling people you’re my dad since I was nine…”

“Really?” Buck is pushing back tears, now. Great.

“Yeah, really. Now eat, you weirdo.”

They both share a laugh, and continue their lunch.

Buck feels bubbly all day after that…

Chapter Text

The next week passes rather peacefully enough. Buck sleeps really badly every night, imagining an incoming call from Nat that never comes. Every morning, she tells him everything is alright and nothing changed; every night she nearly yells at him through text or FaceTime because she ‘needs to go to bed, you maniac’.

Bobby understandably lets him keeps his phone in his pocket, and he jumps three feet in the air each time it vibrates. Then has to shut off all notifications that aren’t Natalia-related. And maybe asks Chris to stop sending him silly Instagram videos at recess.

Hen and Karen have provided him with more baby clothing – the essentials – and Maddie invaded Eddie’s living-room last Sunday to present him with a baby carrier and car seat. Followed an awkward non-lesson, since he remembered everything from Jee-Yun’s time as a newborn.

All in all, he can’t wait for his little one to finally arrive, and at the same time, he’s absolutely terrified.

Their Wednesday calls have been on the q-word-er side all morning: a middle-aged lady stuck on her roof after trying to ‘save’ her cat – that safely got down from it on its own; one flooded basement; and two small kitchen fires.

They’ve had time to sit down and have lunch together, which Chimney is taking full advantage of, as he once again sits nearly in Eddie’s lap to lament the absence of his moustache. Despite it having been gone for the best part of two weeks, Chim is still grieving, and trying to make Eddie grow it back.

Hen films it most of the time, for blackmailing purposes; and Buck always ends up laughing his head off at the look on Eddie’s face, whenever he’s trying not to crack because of Chim’s pouty face.

His phone starts vibrating with an incoming call just as Chim is nearly caressing their friend’s bare upper lip, and his heart misses a beat or two when he sees the caller.

“Nat?” he takes it immediately, already half out of his mind in worry and anticipation.

“Buck?” she sounds pained. “I’m having contractions. I’m heading to hospital. In an Uber. Meet me there? Please?”

“What?” he starts nearly hyperventilating. “Contractions? How far apart? Since when? Has your water broken?” Distantly, he can see his friends watching him carefully, hanging to his every word.

Nat groans through the phone. “I’ve had twelve-ugh, thirteen now, since waking up this morning. They’re not coming closer together, but they’re…unbearable. Might be early labour. So hurry your ass up.” And with those kind words, she hangs up.

Leaving him completely shaken, and a bit frozen, too.

It’s Bobby’s hand on his shoulder that shakes him off his trance. “Buck? Do you need to go?”

Buck blinks up at his Captain, before Nat’s call finishes to fully compute.

She’s having contractions.

The baby is possibly coming now.

He jumps to his feet, eyes wide as he stares at Bobby. “Is it okay if I do?”

Bobby purses his lips. “Of course it is. Go. And call us when you know more.”

He nods and makes to run downstairs, grab his keys and haul ass out of here. Eddie catches his arm before he can, though.

“Are you sure you can drive?”

Buck finds his lips twisting in a fond smile, and he gently pries his best friend’s fingers off him. “I can. It’s not far, anyway.” Dr Gupta works at the closest hospital to the fire station, he can make it in ten minutes tops.

“Call me,” Eddie demands before letting him go.

Buck doesn’t mention that Bobby asked him that too.

In any case, as soon as he knows what’s happening and if it is happening, Eddie is going to be the first to know.

It isn’t happening right now.

That’s the first thing that Dr Gupta tells him when he shows up, panting and out of his mind, in the obstetric emergency room.

She chuckles at him knowingly, showing him to a chair before turning back to Nat, who’s on a bed, and who’s tensing her hands every few seconds before relaxing. Another contraction, no doubt.

“False alarm,” the doc explains in her soothing voice and accent. “Your womb is definitely starting to prepare for labour, but I’d say you have at least another five days ahead of you.”

Buck splutters. “But…her due date is in two days!”

Dr Gupta tuts, looking at him with a bit of disappointment in her eyes. “Now now, Mr Buckley, I’d expect you of all people to have done your research. No matter the due date, it’s very rare for a baby to naturally show up exactly on the day. Besides, your little one isn’t too big yet for Miss Natalia to have to go through forced delivery. Everything is alright. We’ll monitor you for the rest of the afternoon, to make sure those pesky pains go away, and then, you can go back to waiting.” She motherly pats Nat’s hand before turning to leave the small room. “I’ll leave you with Dad.”

“Papa,” Buck says without thinking. When both women look at him curiously, he explains. “Christopher chose it. I’ll be Papa.”

Dr Gupta grins. “That young man has great taste. See you later, then.”

As soon as she’s gone, he moves to Nat’s side and starts pestering her. A bit too much, if her swatting hands are any clue.

Buck predictably spends the rest of the day at the hospital. He flips every time that Nat complains about some pain or other, but the contractions stop in the early afternoon, and Dr Gupta confirms that the whole thing was a false alarm. Still, she keeps Nat until the early evening, just to make sure.

At around 5 pm, Chris and Eddie show up, which is a bit surprising, considering the latter should still be in the middle of a 24.

Upon clocking Buck’s confused look, Eddie smiles. “Bobby let me go early. This one,” he claps his son on the shoulder, “nearly threatened me with bodily harm if we didn’t come. Hey Nat,” he adds with a wink.

Nat grins, propped up on her pillows. “Hey Joe. Tired of the nickname? Is that why you…” she gestures to her upper lip, and Buck realises they haven’t seen each other in a few weeks.

Eddie chuckles. “My son hated it.”

Nat turns her grin to Chris, who’s moved closer to the bed. “I knew you were a young man of taste.”

Chris ignores the comment, sits on the plastic chair Buck has just vacated, and plants a hand next to Nat’s enormous belly. “Hey there. I know you are excited to come meet us, but it’s not nice to hurt Natalia like that. Dad always says that faking something is bad. So don’t fake coming to join us, alright?”

Buck thinks he’s going to melt every time that Christopher talks to Nat’s bump. Ever since Maddie said it was important, the teen has made it his mission to yap at his little sibling as often as possible. About everything and anything.

‘That way, they will know me as soon as they’re born’, he’d said once. And Buck had had to go to the kitchen to stop himself from bawling at the thought of Chris holding a tiny little baby in his arms. He wasn’t ready to face that reality yet. Even though it was going to happen one day or other.

Eddie watches his son start a one-sided conversation with Nat’s belly, and shakes his head fondly. “He’s getting impatient. Has the doc given you an idea of when Sprout will be ready to…sprout?”

Buck nudges him for that poor joke, but sighs. “No. She says Nat’s body is getting ready for the birth, and the baby is in the right position, but it could still be a week or maybe even more…”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Eddie’s brow furrows, and Buck is reminded that Chris was an early birth.

“Not yet. They’re not too big to be concerned yet, and they’re really cosy in there.” He smiles, but knows it’s strained a bit, because of the stress.

Eddie clocks it, and half hugs him, something they only do in serious situations. “It’s gonna be okay. They’ll come when they feel like it, and not a minute before.”

Buck tries to calm his anxiety, which isn’t an easy feat, and hasn’t been ever since Nat sat him down and told him he was going to be a father, and they both lean against a wall and listen to Chris tell his sibling about his latest science project: a model of the human DNA.

Two days later, it’s Nat’s official due date.

Buck spends it checking his phone and sending her the same message over and over again.

Buck [Today, 7:12 am]

still nthg?

Buck [Today, 7:46 am]

still nthg?

Buck [Today, 8:15 am]

still nthg??

Buck [Today, 9:00 am]

still nthg?

Natalia [Today, 9:13 am]

I swear to God, Buck, if you carry on like that all day, I’m showing up at the station to kill you.

He continues in the same vein until their shift is over in the afternoon.

After a while, the ‘read’ notification turns into ‘delivered’, and he sighs, knowing that Nat has gotten tired of his pestering.

Still, it could be ‘delivered’ because she’s been sent to hospital to have his baby, so he calls her.

It goes straight to voicemail. ‘Hi, you’ve reached Natalia Dollenmeyer. Please leave a message. If you are Evan Buckley, hang up, take a deep breath and stop being a pain in my backside. If the baby comes, I’ll call you.’

It does very little to assuage his worry.

Hen follows him home, which never happens, but Chris and Denny have been begging their parents for a sleepover ever since Halloween, and so, she’s coming to fetch him at Eddie’s. Eddie, who’s gone to get him from school.

Buck takes the opportunity to show her the crib and changing table that they painstakingly installed, and when Hen asks about what they’re gonna do in the future nursery of their future home, he shows her the colour schemes he and Chris have settled on, as well as a rough outline of where each piece of furniture is going to go.

“I know it’ll be some time before the baby crawls and walks, but just so you know, I’ve kept all the silicones protections to put on the corners of furniture. Tables, dressers, chairs, so on. They’re in the shape of paws, if you want them.”

And they turn the conversation to babyproofing. At one point, Hen must realise that she’s been stirring the pot of Buck’s hyperfixations, because she sighs in relief when Eddie and Chris arrive home.

While the teen goes to his room to finish his sleepover bag, Eddie tugs on Hen’s sleeve and brings her to the kitchen with a pointed look in Buck’s direction.

Buck, who knows that his friend has chosen this opportunity to officially come out to their friend.

So he smiles, and waits in the living-room.

But Chris takes a bit too long to emerge to his taste, considering most of his bag was ready yesterday evening, so he ends up knocking softly on his door while Eddie and Hen are still in the kitchen.

When he enters, instead of a teenager preparing a bag or, at the very least, playing videogames, he finds Chris sitting on his bed, forlorn, his phone discarded on the blanket next to him.

Buck goes into worry-mode – as if he hasn’t been all day – and goes to kneel in front of the boy. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Chris averts his eyes, which look suspiciously teary. “Nothing.”

“Chris,” Buck starts, placing a comforting hand on his leg, “remember what we promised each other when you came back? No more secrets.”

A sigh. “I don’t want to bother you and Dad with it. It’s stupid. I can deal with it on my own.”

“And maybe you can deal with whatever this is on your own, but maybe you can’t. Or maybe, taking about it makes it easier to deal with it.” He tries a soft smile, ducking his head to force Chris to meet his eye.

He looks embarrassed, his tears more angry than sad. “I’ve been receiving messages.”

“Messages,” Buck repeats with a confused nod. Alright. Chris has a phone, he texts his friends, he has an Instagram that his Dad curates to make sure he doesn’t post things that are unsafe. Mostly, his videogames highscores, or sceneries he likes when they go out together. Some stuff he did in Texas.

And, this morning, he posted a photo of the LEGO set he’s been asking his dad for for ages: the Coliseum. Buck liked the picture as soon as it appeared on his feed. (And if Eddie doesn’t buy it – admittedly, it’s quite expensive – he’s gonna make sure it’s under the Christmas tree anyway.)

“Did someone make a mean comment about your Insta post?”

Chris averts his eye, which Buck takes as confirmation. “That, and…other stuff.”

“Okay, show me,” Buck outstretches a hand, a severe tone in his voice that means business.

He can’t abide with bullies, especially bullies who bully Christopher.

It’s a mix of DMs and texts, all calling Chris a baby, stupid, or even more colourful and hideous words that won’t be repeated here. About three people contribute to this, by the looks of it, boys. The fact that Chris has their number saved, though, is a mystery.

“Do you know them?” Buck asks between gritted teeth as he takes screenshots.

Chris sighs. “They were at school with me in El Paso.”

Buck feels even more anger rise, considering the bullying visibly started when he was still in Texas. “And did you tell your grandparents about this?”

Chris shrugs. “Abuelo says that I had to ignore it. That men don’t cry about this kind of thing, so if I complained, I wasn’t a man.”

“All due respect, your Abuelo is a moron. Cyberbullying is a big deal, Christopher. It’s wrong. And I’m going to make sure those little shits out there know it.” He stands, holds Chris’s phone back to him. “First, you’re going to block those numbers. And block them on Instagram too. Then, I’m gonna use the screenshots I took, send them to Athena, who’s gonna track them and their parents, and the El Paso police is going to have a field day with this. Because your Dad will want to make a formal complaint about it. Because it’s s serious thing, and wrong.”

Chris stares up at him as if he can’t fully compute what Buck has been saying. “It’s…not a bother?”

“Christopher Diaz. Anyone who hurts you any way there is will know my and your father’s wrath. Until the end of our days. It will never be a bother, and it’s our job to protect you anyway. Until you’re eighteen, and even after that.” He smiles, and Chris returns it after a beat.

“Thanks, Pa.”

Buck’s heart soars, and he claps his hands. “Alright, now let’s get out of here, Denny is waiting for you.”

Chris’s smiles doubles in size at that, and he grabs his go-away bag and his crutches.

Buck feels strangely proud of himself for this one.

He also feels extremely angry, namely, furious with one Ramon Diaz.

Eddie and him will have to give him a call later.

Nobody touches their boy.

Nobody.

Chapter Text

It all starts with Jee-Yun.

Or, actually, it starts with her parents.

No, in all honesty, it starts with Buck.

Buck who, since Nat’s due date, has been acting like a human Energizer Bunny, running around aimlessly, checking baby stuff every two minutes, checking his phone even more often than that, and biting at other people who point it out.

He’s upgraded his messages to Nat from ‘Still nothing?’ to ‘Everything okay?’ and, of course, Natalia is swift in answering that ‘everything’s fine, stop asking me, I’ll tell you if anything changes’.

Internally, he’s ready to go to the hospital himself and demand of Dr Gupta that she delivers the baby now.

Objectively, he knows that a baby coming after the due date isn’t dangerous up to a point, and remembers the countless times he’s been told Sprout isn’t in any distress and shouldn’t be for a good while.

But, you know…the subconscious tells you what it wants to tell you.

So, when Chimney and Jee knock on Eddie’s door one Sunday morning while Maddie is at work, Buck’s first instinct is to turn them down. His second is to scoop his niece into his arms and dote on her, because she is the most specialest person in the world.

Chris is elated to see her too. He brings an old LEGO set into the dining-room, something small and easy – a fire-engine, actually – and they go on building it while Jee tells Chris about her feats at school.

Eddie brings Chim into the kitchen in a repeat of Friday and Hen, and Buck sits at the table to watch the kids play together. It’s peaceful, and their commentary and repeated motions distract him a good amount.

When the engine is built, Jee demands crayons and paper from Chris, who’s quick to bring them to her – he really can’t beat the allegations that he adores Jee-Yun Buckley-Han – and she starts on several drawings that she gifts every other person in the house. Chris indulges her into drawing something too – a castle, apparently – and then he leaves to continue reading the book he’s been assigned at school.

They still have to go in to talk about the bullying with Athena, but all of yesterday was spent tearing a new one into Eddie’s parents via FaceTime, and trying to rebuild Chris’s confidence.

Ramon wasn’t the least bit understanding and started spewing the same bullshit he did his grandson, but Eddie was swift in breaking down every single one of his moronic arguments by reminding him that this was 2024 and not the Middle-Ages, that bullying and harassment was by law an offense, and that the most important person in this equation was not the three little shits that saw fit to bully Chris, but Chris himself.

Chris, who they spent the remainder of their Saturday trying to comfort and rebuild his confidence. It’ll take time, but now that Buck knows what plagued him for weeks and maybe even months, it’s visible that he has a weight off his shoulders.

“Unka Buck!”

Despite being more than able to pronounce ‘Uncle’ the correct way, Jee hasn’t stopped using the more diminutive one she learnt as a toddler. It’s like a nickname, makes it extra special, so Buck likes it.

(Who is he kidding? He loves it.)

He focusses one what she’s handing him with a proud look on her face.

Her messy, four-year-old’s signature is at the top right, over a big, yellow and orange sun. At the bottom, green grass spiking everywhere, and three figures. One, tall, their head nearly reaching the top of the page, then two small ones, one with long black hair and a pink dress, one with blue clothes and no hair.

It’s when Buck notices the splotch of red on the tallest figure’s head that he understands it’s him. And most probably, Jee-Yun herself, since she’s wearing a pink dress today.

He points at the third figure. “Who’s that?”

Jee grins. “My baby cousin!”

Buck nearly dies right then. His niece always has the power to melt him into a puddle of glittery love, and today is no exception.

So, it all starts with Jee-Yun and her cute as heck drawing.

And it’s all because Buck posted it on his Instagram – after altering the photo and erasing Jee’s signature – and tagged Maddie on it.

It’s wonderful – not – how their parents are able to turn a joyful occasion into a nightmare.

Buck and Eddie are on cleaning duty – self-imposed to distract – and throwing damp cloths into each other’s faces when the call comes four days later.

Buck, at this point, has his phone practically glued to his side, and he fishes it out of his pocket in less time than it takes Eddie to throw his rag back into the bucket.

The excited butterflies in his stomach fade and turn into a cold sweat when he sees the ‘Margaret Buckley’ staring at him from an incoming FaceTime call.

He hasn’t talked to his parents in a few months – his father’s birthday, if memory recalls – and despite their wish to mend fences, their relationship remains more than strained, to say the least.

Eddie frowns when he sees him hesitate, but Buck ignores him, takes a deep breath, and takes the call.

“Evan!”

Eddie’s face turns into a blank page, but his brown eyes are blazing, and Buck remembers that the first time he met Buck’s parents, his best friend chewed them up.

He stands slowly, and turns slowly, to try and shield this conversation from Eddie’s ire, mostly.

On the screen, both his parents are there, sitting in their living-room, he thinks, and they are smiling. As they often are, now, when they see him. Which never fails to unnerve him, actually.

He hasn’t seen his parents in person since Maddie and Chim’s hurried hospital wedding. Since he unwittingly came out to them and everyone else at the same time.

His mother cut her hair even shorter than usual; his dad…hasn’t changed at all.

It’s him who brings him back to the matter at hand. “Buck. How are you, son?”

Unsurprisingly, his father has taken to using his preferred name, and his mother not. She must have thought it was a ‘phase’ or a ‘childish tantrum’ or something.

And, unlike Maddie’s ‘Evan’ – or Eddie’s, on the rare occasions he hears it – it fills him with unease and an itchy feeling, like he has to get rid of the word forever.

“I’m…good. You? Everything good? Why did you call me?” he asks after perfunctorily smiling politely at the people who brought him into the world.

His mother purses her lips, and he thinks ‘Oh God, here we go’. “Well, Nicole Adams from down the street had something very interesting to tell us this morning, didn’t she, Phillip?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Her son Michael, you remember him, don’t you, you used to play together in the yard? Well, Michael saw something on Instagram. Apparently, our son is about to become a father. And didn’t think of informing us.”

Buck feels all colour leave his face. He feels cold, and stupid.

Of course. Michael Adams was following him on Insta. They sometimes exchanged silly memes, but it never went further than that. Figures that he’d see Jee’s drawing, babble to his meddling mother, who’d then babble to his own meddling mother.

And no, he’s not sorry he hasn’t told his parents about their new grandchild.

Because he knows what’s going to be thrown at his head right now.

And he could really do without it.

The Buckleys’ call has attracted a bit of attention, so Bobby comes down to inquire and offers Buck to come sit upstairs while the others busy themselves elsewhere, so that the conversation remains as private as possible.

Bobby remains in the loft, though, starting on lunch, and Buck knows that he wants to keep an eye on the call, just in case. A surge of affection makes him hide a little smile.

Chim hurries away as soon as he’s said hello to his in-laws through the screen, and he drags Ravi downstairs to do inventory, even though Hen has been on it for a while.

Eddie, of course, stays right where Buck is, and sits next to him at the table, though shielded from the camera, so he doesn’t appear on screen. A silent, protective shadow.

“So, care to explain what this is all about?” his mother starts again, looking like she’s smelt something foul. It isn’t surprising, it’s her default look whenever her son is near.

He sighs, runs a hand over his face. “Alright. Yes, I’m going to become a father.”

“We didn’t know your relationship with…Tommy, was it? was this serious that you’d already be using a surrogate,” his father looks a bit puzzled.

And Buck is…well…agreeably surprised that his father remembered the name of his ex, all things considered, but still… He grits his teeth at the thought of the other man. “No. Tommy didn’t want kids. We…broke up.”

Margaret huffs. “And another one gone.” Phillip looks at her a bit cross, and she raises her hands in peace. “Sorry. So, you…what? Found someone else and got them pregnant?”

Buck snorts. “Not quite. One of my exes found out she was nearly six months pregnant a few months back. She doesn’t want kids either so… I’m becoming sole carer when the baby’s born.”

Margaret rolls her eyes and makes several exasperated gestures. “I knew it wasn’t an informed decision.” She brings her hand to her husband’s arm, and Buck recognizes it as the universal ‘give me strength’ move. He braces himself. “Evan, you are not equipped to be responsible for a child on your own. You can barely take care of yourself!” She scoffs. “I mean, you aren’t able to commit to a relationship more than a few months, how are you going to commit to raising a child for eighteen years?!”

Phillip clears his throat while Buck’s own clogs. “What your mother means is, we are worried. Are you sure you aren’t just doing it to appease that young woman? Wouldn’t it be best to…give up the child for adoption? Give them a better chance?”

Eddie drags his chair so that he’s plastered to Buck’s side, and he grabs the phone over Buck’s hand, to steady it. He looks murderous. “Hello, Mr and Mrs Buckley. Eddie Diaz, I’m sure you remember me. Just to be clear about something here, Buck is capable to taking care of a child, he’s been doing it for years. Or have you forgotten your own granddaughter? Do you think Maddie doesn’t ever let her brother have his niece to stay? Not to mention, he’s been coparenting my son for the best part of seven years. Buck knows how to raise a child. Better than either of you did, I wager.”

Margaret’s cheeks blotch with red. “How dare you? I won’t—”

Her husband interrupts her and squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry, son. We didn’t know you’d been so…involved. I’m glad to hear you know what waters you are treading. But…do you need any help? Money? Stuff?”

Buck, still feeling like his throat is closed and he won’t be able to speak ever again, gapes like a fish.

Eddie, once again, is there to save the day. “We have all we need, thank you. We’ve had some help from our family here.”

The message couldn’t be clearer, and Phillip gets it too, if his face falling is any indication.

He stops Margaret from talking again, and looks at his son, a bit contrite. “Will you tell us when they’re born?” Buck nods a bit sheepishly. “And…can we come meet them?”

Buck finds his voice, hoarse and squeaky. “Do you…want to?”

“Of course we want to, Evan!” his mother pipes up, cross for another reason, now. “They’re our grandbaby! We want to spoil them rotten, like we do Jee-Yun!” And, for all their faults, they do dote on their granddaughter.

“Then, okay… But, maybe once we’ve settled.” He bites his lip. “We…are moving, in early January. To a bigger house, better for the baby and…us.” He’s vaguely aware that he’s been alluding to Eddie and him being together, and hasn’t corrected the assumption, but he doesn’t care, really.

Phillip nods and his lips turn into a tiny smile. “You have been thinking about everything. That’s good for us, then. Tell us when you are settled, or if you need help for the big move.” He pauses, looks at his wife then back at the screen. “Take care, Buck.”

Margaret still looks pissed, and waves at the screen dismissively. The call ends.

Eddie groans, bumps into Buck’s shoulder. “I despise your parents.”

Buck chuckles. “Ditto.”

Then, a cup of steaming coffee is placed in front of him on the table, and a warm comforting hand on his shoulder. He looks up at Bobby, who’s smiling down at him. “Whatever you need, son.”

And those words mean so much more than they’re saying…

Chapter Text

“This needs more cinnamon.”

Buck dips his finger into the preparation, tastes it, and makes a face. “It is already pretty cinnamon-y.”

Chris shrugs, opening the spice container again. “I like cinnamon.”

Buck stops his hand with a chuckle. “Not everyone does, bud. Tell you what, we’ll take the cinnamon with us to Hen’s, and tonight, when you get your slice of pie, you can add some.”

The teen shrugs, but Buck can see that he’s happy about the development. He wipes his hands on his apron, and climbs down the stool Buck perched him on to help with baking.

The 118 is celebrating Thanksgiving at the Wilsons this year. In the absence of a finished Grant-Nash home, obviously, otherwise Bobby and Athena would be hosting, as they usually do. This year, Buck offered to make the pies. He started by making cherry – and hiding it from Eddie’s wandering hands – and is in the process of making the pumpkin-based one. Chris, surprisingly, has been helping.

(Or maybe he just doesn’t want Denny to one-up him, since the young Wilson lad is known to help his moms cook more often than not.)

“Buck?” comes Eddie’s voice from the living-room, where he’s been painting for the last hour. Buck thought it a good idea to distract him from the cherry pie. “Your phone’s ringing!”

“Who is it?” he shouts back while crimping the pie crust. If it’s Maddie, Eddie can answer. And, knowing his sister and her propension for Thanksgiving nerves, it’s more than likely her.

There’s a rustling plastic tarp as Eddie moves across the room beyond, and he slides to a stop in the doorway, splattered with paint – it never fails to make Buck’s heart do a funny flip – his eyes wide as he clutches Buck’s phone.

“It’s Natalia.”

Buck drops the file he was crimping with and nearly jumps over the kitchen table to get to his phone.

“Nat?!” he screeches, his top half lying on the table, really undignified.

“Buck? It’s time. I’m heading there now. It’s time.”

“Are you sure?” he can’t recognize his own voice, it’s so squeaky. “Are you sure this time?”

Nat groans. “My waters broke half an hour ago, Dr Gupta said on the phone she’s pretty sure this is it. So get your flat ass in a car and get to the hospital now.” She makes a moan of pain and hangs up.

Buck crawls the rest of the way over the table to get to the door, and nearly tears the strings off his apron in his haste to take it off.

Eddie doesn’t stop him, of course, this is too important, and that’s perhaps why Buck falters, one hand on the door handle and his eyes going to his best friend.

Eddie grins. “Go. I’ll tell the others, and I’ll put the pie away. Go meet your baby.”

“Can I come?” Chris calls from the kitchen, but Eddie shakes his head and shoos Buck out the door.

“You’re not getting out of helping me clean up, young man. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go meet your sibling too.”

Buck closes the door behind himself, takes a deep breath and heads to his Jeep.

This is it.

This is it.

Buck parks approximatively in the hospital’s ‘long stay’ parking lot, and rushes to the maternity ward, half-tripping on his long legs in his hurry to reach Natalia.

He only has time to pant out his name before he hears the soothing accent of Dr Gupta from the corridor.

“Mr Buckley! This way, if you please!”

He runs to her, out of breath, red in the face, and she greets him with that knowing smile of hers.

She hands him a hair net and a pack of scrubs. “For your feet, and when it’s time, you’ll put on the cape too, won’t you?”

He nods, incapable of saying anything.

She smiles softer still. “Miss Natalia is in Labour Room number 2. She has a while to wait yet. Baby might take their time. I’ll be back in an hour to check her progress.”

“What…” he croaks, clears his throat, “what if it’s time earlier than in an hour?”

The doc looks like she wants to tell him there’s no way, but she has experience dealing with excited and worried parents, so she doesn’t dismiss him. “Then there is a big red button you can push on. You can’t miss it. For now, go and distract your friend. She has to wait until the last moment for the epidural, and she’s not happy about it.”

Buck nods solemnly, and goes in search of Labour Room 2.

He’s ‘greeted’ by Nat’s screech of “Where were you” and he sheepishly goes to her side, where she latches onto his hand in time with a contraction.

She’s been put in a hospital gown already, but she’s lying on her side, and under a blanket, not yet placed into the birthing position. Buck resolves himself to wait. Instead, he focusses on the constants he can see on the monitor next to Nat’s head. One for her own heartbeat, one for the baby’s.

He finds himself smiling.

Nat relaxes her hold on his hand, contraction passed. “What are you smiling for, you idiot?”

Buck kisses her hand. “A Thanksgiving baby.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffs. “You’re a sap. Now be a good boy and distract me.”

Buck finds himself telling her about what he’d been preparing with Chris for the aborted Thanksgiving get-together, and when he’s done and Nat is caught in another painful contraction, he ends up reciting the pumpkin pie recipe while squeezing her fingers tight.

“Who is Alfonso Cuaròn, again?” Nat asks while taking short deep breaths. Her contractions are getting closer and more drawn out, and the nurse that’s just been in went to fetch the anaesthetist.

Buck has been trying to distract her for the past ten minutes they’ve been waiting, by pulling up a list of celebrities born on the 28^th November.

“Famous director. He did Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The best of all eight, in my opinion.”

She groans, squeezes his hand. “Never knew you liked Harry Potter.”

He makes a face. “I was born in 1991. It was kind of mandatory.” She chuckles at that, and he carries on. “Ed Harris, too, great actor. Loved him in Rock. And Karen Gillan. You must have seen her in the Marvel movies, she’s Nebula. The blue chick.”

Nat nods while gritting her teeth. “I like her. She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, real pretty. Scottish too. I like the accent.”

“Of course you do.”

They carry on for another two minutes, and then, the nurse from before – Brenda – comes back, a tall man in scrubs in her wake, rolling a table filled with syringes in front of him.

“Hello, Natalia. I’m Johannes. I’m bringing the good stuff. Feeling up to it?”

Nat groans again. “If you don’t make me forget I have legs, I’m suing the hospital.”

He laughs, stops the small table next to her bed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Hi,” he looks at Buck, “you must be the Dad. Can you help me with Miss Natalia here? I need her sitting up for this.”

Buck nods, and lets the man direct him on how to handle Nat carefully and help her sit on the bed, her legs swung over the side as her now naked back faces Johannes. He studies the needles and medicine used, the quantity, the way the man does his job. As if he knew anything about it and could criticize it at all.

Nat hisses in pain when the needle pierces her skin, but it’s soon replaced with a near moan of relief once the epidural takes effect. Buck helps her back onto the bed, and Johannes hands her a small pump.

“No more than once every half-hour, or you’ll be out of it too soon, and we don’t want that, do we?”

“You’re my favourite person in the whole wide world,” she slurs, suddenly acting like she’s stoned. Buck supposes it feels like it after nearly six hours of active labour.

Johannes laughs, and wheels his instruments back out, leaving them to it once more.

Seventy-two minutes later, Dr Gupta comes into the room with two midwives, and deems it time.

Buck feels like his skin is going to crack and leave him raw, he’s so excited. He stands in the corner of the room, putting on his scrubs while Nat is being situated and prepped, and then, the good doc turns to him to explain how this is going to happen.

He waves her off. “I’ve delivered two babies, and seen it done a couple more times. I know what happens.” At the midwives’ rather alarmed look, he adds “I’m a firefighter,” and they nod knowingly with a small smile.

Dr Gupta’s eyes crinkle, as if she’s grinning under her mask. “Good. I won’t have to worry about you fainting on us, then. Want to hold Miss Natalia’s hand?” He nods, and nearly runs to Nat’s side, grabbing onto her.

The epidural has done its magic, and as soon as she’s told to push, Nat feels strong enough to do just that.

Buck holds her hand tight, while also surveying what happens down the ‘business end’, so to speak. It takes a bit longer than he’d like, but then, he can see a wrinkled, red and cross little face, then two strong shoulders before the whole body of a whole-ass baby is being pulled out of Nat, who slumps down on the pillow as if she’s just finished running a marathon.

“And here she is!” Dr Gupta exclaims loudly, placing the baby on a towel on Nat’s belly before placing the clamps on the umbilical cord. “Dad?” she offers the scissors.

Buck grabs them and tries to be gentle while cutting the cord, despite knowing that the baby can’t feel it.

The baby.

His daughter.

Once the midwives have cleaned her and swaddled her in a blanket – pink, he’ll have to have a word with them about that – they hand him his child, and Buck…

Well…

The sensation is unlike any other, really.

It’s like a surge, something warm, something scorching, like a brand, like a promise etched onto his heart.

He loves this tiny thing in his arms. Loves her with his whole heart, his whole soul.

She is his, and he’ll kill for her.

A tiny pouty mouth twists and opens into a soft cry; and Buck marvels at the downy black hair on her head, as dark as Nat’s and as curly as both of theirs.

When she sneaks a hand out of the blanket, he sees a splotch of red near her right elbow.

A birthmark.

“I think Miss Buckley is a bit hangry,” Dr Gupta says, after the afterbirth has been delivered and Nat has been cleaned and put back onto fresh linens.

Buck has been marvelling at his daughter since she was placed in his arms, and he looks up at that, realising then that the baby has indeed been making a kind of grouchy face for the past minute.

The doc looks over at Nat and asks “Do you want to nurse her?”

Nat makes a face. “Do I have to?”

“You absolutely don’t. Here, let me show you how to use the breast pump. You don’t have to feed her your own milk after this if you don’t wish to, but the first one is the most important.”

“Colostrum,” Buck provides, still gazing adoringly at his daughter.

The doc makes an appreciative sound while she shows Nat something that looks like a torture device, truly.

“Look at what Auntie Nat has to go through for you, princess. We owe her a big holiday, don’t we?”

Nat groans once the pump starts working, and glares at him. “Auntie Nat?”

“Shut up,” he grins. “You brought my daughter into the world, and you’re currently having your boobs sucked dry by a milking machine. You’re gonna be called Auntie, and I’m gonna buy you a holiday. Deal with it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Alright. But this was the one and only time, okay? No babies will come out of there,” she gestures at her stomach, “ever again. No matter the holiday.”

He grins. “One was more than enough.” He gazes back at the baby in his arms, who’s growing more and more impatient by the minute, if the red in her face and her squirming are any indication. “She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“She looks like you when you have to do math,” Nat jokes. But, for the first time since the birth, she does look at the tiny human she pushed into the world, and smiles. “She is pretty cute.”

Buck reaches out a hand to grab onto Nat’s, and tries to soothe his fussy daughter while waiting for her lunch to be pumped out.

Ouch.

Fed, burped, washed and dressed in the taupe onesie that’s still a bit too big on her, Baby Buckley is put in a bassinet, and she and Nat are wheeled out of Labour Room 2 into a private room where a cot is soon installed for Buck himself.

Natalia said she doesn’t mind staying with the baby until they’re both discharged, so long as he never leaves her alone with her. Not that she doesn’t like the baby; but she’s scared shitless of doing the wrong thing if the newborn ever needs something.

She’s put on medicine to stop her from producing milk, and Buck brings forth the powdered one he bought by the gallons.

“I’m gonna need to go to a spa after this, I’m sore all over,” she bemoans, sipping on a juice box.

Buck smiles at her, still bent over the bassinet where his baby girl is soundly sleeping. “Choose the place, my treat.”

Nat smiles, but then, a knock on the door interrupts them.

Their family has arrived.

Christopher latches onto the bassinet as soon as he’s into the room. He pulls a chair next to it, and keeps his hand on the edge, as if offering his baby sister the option to reach for him in her sleep. He also looks like he’s counting her breaths.

Buck is as enamoured by the scene as he is by his daughter.

Eddie, at least, greets Nat first and offers her a plate of sushi, which she couldn’t eat during her pregnancy. Apparently, there was some sort of arrangement between them that he’d buy her some when she gave birth.

Buck then has the privilege to see his best friend fall head over heels over the little sleeping bundle his son is fiercely guarding.

Eddie’s brown eyes mist over with tears and love, and Buck wonders if that’s what he looked like when she was placed in his arms an hour and a half ago. Probably.

“Hey there princesa,” Eddie coos gently, running a careful finger down her belly so as not to wake her. “We’ve been waiting for you…” He turns to drag another chair next to the bassinet, and both Diazes start studying her every move, completely besotted.

Buck then finally turns to the last additions to the room: Bobby and Athena. Pops and Nana.

“She’s absolutely gorgeous, Buck,” Athena marvels. “And she has your nose.”

“Maddie’s nose,” he corrects, even though, technically, they both have the same shape.

Bobby brings him into a tight hug, and his eyes are misty too. “I’m so happy for you, Buck. She’s precious.”

“What’s her name?” Athena asks, still bent over the bassinet. Buck would be worried about crowding the baby, with three heads over her like that, but she keeps on sleeping, oblivious to the watchers overhead.

Buck bites his lip. “Well… I’ve been thinking about strong names. Because I’m surrounded by strong men, but mostly, by strong women.” Athena straightens up, looks at him with a brow raised. “I wanted my daughter to have a badass name. A name that, like her Nana, would mean she’s strong, and beautiful. A Goddess.” He takes a deep breath. “Artemis.”

Athena’s eyes widen, and she brings a hand to her mouth. “Artemis?”

Buck nods, sheepish. “A Greek Goddess, like her grandmother.” He blushes a bit. “Do you mind?”

Athena’s strong arms are around him in a heartbeat. He basks in her affection, ducking his head to her shoulder. “I’m honoured, Buckaroo.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “But don’t you think it’s going to be a bit difficult a name to bear? At school?”

Buck shakes his head. “Anyone trying to mock my daughter for her name will regret it. And besides, Artemis has a great diminutive form. Artie.”

He grins, especially when Eddie returns the grin too.

“Artie Buckley. Sounds great.”

“Sounds like a detective from a murder mystery book,” Natalia pipes up with her own smile. “Cool.”

Bobby claps Buck on the shoulder. “There it is, then. Artemis ‘Artie’ Buckley.”

In her sleep, Artie coos, as if accepting her new name.

Chapter Text

Artie’s first night on the Earth is agitated.

Oh, not for her, no. She sleeps peacefully in-between feedings and changings, and is none the wiser to the chaos occurring outside of her bassinet.

Buck…doesn’t sleep a wink.

‘Baby’s cases of sudden death’ echoes through his mind, even hours after having read the article while watching over his daughter and Natalia’s rest.

He’s being paranoid, he knows, but still. He stays there, sat up on a chair and counting Artie’s little breaths until she wakes for something, and he makes sure she doesn’t have time to cry or wake Nat up, scooping her up and giving her what she needs before resuming his careful watch.

He’s exhausted once morning comes and with it the midwife.

She stares at him a bit severely, but doesn’t try to chastise him, which he’s extremely grateful for.

Nat comments on the fact that she slept like the dead, and asks Buck if Artie didn’t wake at all during the night. He simply says she’s not fussy, and Nat idly answers that if she hadn’t been, there was a chance that she’d have kicked them both out of the room.

Buck is eternally grateful to Natalia for what she’s done for him. Carrying his baby to term already was a gift in itself; but now, she’s sharing a room with a child she doesn’t want to be involved in the life of, in the off chance that she’s needed some more.

Her bound breasts ache, she complains about it. Her back aches, she complains about it.

Artie coos next to her bed, she just says the baby is as chatty as her father, and doesn’t complain about it.

Buck lucked out, he feels.

Visiting hours have barely started that Chris erupts into the room, dutifully kissing Nat on the cheek before perching himself next to his baby sister and talking to her as he usually does.

But he’s not accompanied by his father, curiously enough.

Instead, it’s Maddie, and Chimney and Jee that file after him, wide-eyed and grinning from ear to ear.

Maddie offers Nat an inflatable cushion to sit on ‘for a few weeks, to keep pressure off what truly hurt’, before coming to hug her brother tight.

“Did you sleep at all?” she whispers in his ear, and he huffs.

“You know I didn’t.”

She shakes her head as she releases him, but she looks so damn happy. “Can I meet my baby niece?”

He grins back, and goes to scoop Artie out of her bassinet, under Chris’s watchful eye – and disappointed pout. Maddie takes her from him expertly, and immediately starts melting in front of his eyes.

“Oh my God she is so cute!” Artie hears her aunt’s voice and coos a bit, opening one and then two shy eyes, and Maddie leans down to kiss her soft little head. “Hello, little darling. You are gorgeous.”

“Nothing like her father, I bet,” Chim jokes, leaning against his wife and making faces at the baby.

Artie is non-plussed by her uncle’s antics, and her tiny face scrunches, readying itself for a cry.

Chris is there in a flash, quicker than his CP should allow. “You’re scaring her,” he pushes at Chim, who looks at the teenager with wide surprised eyes, but does take a few paces back. Chris looks down at his sister. “That’s our Uncle Chim. He’s an idiot. You’ll get used to it.” He then turns to Jee-Yun, who’d been plastered to her mom’s legs, unsure. “Hey Jee. Want to see your baby cousin?”

Buck’s heart is melting again. Chris takes Jee’s hand and helps her sit at Nat’s feet, with Maddie sitting next to her too, showing her the baby.

Nat falsely grumbles. “Please, do use my bed as a couch. Pretend I’m not here.”

Chris’s eyes widen, and he hurries to his backpack, taking out a plastic container. “Sorry, I forgot. My Bisabuela made you chocolate fudge cake. She says it helps soothe everything.” He hands it to Nat, whose face immediately shifts from annoyance to delight.

“Damn, maybe I dated the wrong hot firefighter, in the end.”

Buck – and the rest of the adults – laugh, but really, he’s not exactly sure if he likes what Nat is implying.

He tells himself it’s because if she hadn’t dated him, Artie wouldn’t have been born; but some tiny tinny part of him knows it’s because she’s put the image of her and Eddie in his mind. And he doesn’t like it.

Speaking of…

“Chris? Where’s your dad?”

The teen doesn’t look up from his sister, who he’s watching like a hawk. “Oh, he had to meet with his priest friend. To tell him to postpone the christening, since it was supposed to happen in three weeks and Artie will still be too little.”

Buck’s chest does something complicated.

Eddie is still taking care of them when he’s here, with Artie.

(Even if the thought of him spending more time with Father Brian isn’t exactly pleasant…)

“Evan…” He looks at his sister, who’s staring at him with a soft smile. “Is that her name? Artie?”

He realises that he hasn’t made it official to anyone else but those who visited yesterday. It’s surprising that Chris has held off until now, though he supposes he talks about his ‘baby sister’ and not a name, possibly.

He nods sheepishly. “Yeah. Artemis Buckley. Artie for short.”

Chim laughs, loud, boisterous, Chim. “Artemis. Athena must have loved that.”

“She did,” he preens. “But she suggested a nickname all the same.”

“I love it,” Maddie says, kissing her niece again.

Buck then notices that Jee has had her finger trapped in Artie’s little hand, but doesn’t look upset by it, at all. She babbles to herself, eyes fleeting over all of her baby cousin.

His family, all in one room…

(Almost.)

It’s the middle of the morning the following day.

The doc is in to check on Artie’s progress, and asked Buck to take Natalia for a walk around the ward, to let her get used to her own legs again.

He’ll admit he didn’t want to leave Artie’s side for even a second, but Nat’s insistent punches to his arm, stating she was getting crazy not being able to walk around, convinced him.

Still, he didn’t want to be gone for more than five minutes.

That turn into twelve, because Nat needs to sit down near the cold drinks’ machine and get her breath back before going to opposite way.

“Are you going to be okay on your own?” he asks as he helps her to her feet. She says her hips ache but nothing else – apart from the obvious – but she’s still pretty tired. “Shouldn’t you stay with us for a bit?”

Nat glares at him a little, gripping his hand tight. “And where would I sleep? In the bedroom with the baby? On the couch? With Christopher?”

He bites his lip. “Okay, but I don’t like knowing you’ll be alone.”

“I won’t be,” she grits out. “Lyle is coming down for a few weeks.” Lyle. Natalia’s oldest friend, who lives three hours away. A teacher, if memory serves.

Buck smirks. “Oh? Any particular reason?”

She glares again. “Shut up, Mister I-live-with-my-best-friend-and-still-don’t-admit-I-love-him.”

Buck feels his cheeks warm up. “Ridiculous.”

Nat rolls her eyes. “What did I just say…”

They tread back to the room, a bit quicker than before as Natalia gets more and more confident on her legs – and with the new width added to her hips.

Buck freezes when he sees the paediatrician exist another room than theirs, and he starts panicking.

Who’s with Artie???!!!

Is she alone????

He lets go of Nat’s hand and pushes the door open, nearly slamming it into the wall in his haste.

What he sees makes his heart stop, then beat a frantic conga in his chest.

Eddie and Chris are here.

Eddie and Chris are here, because Nat and Artie are probably going to be discharged in a few hours.

Eddie and Chris are here, and Chris is sitting on Nat’s bed, reading his book, while Eddie…

Eddie…

Eddie is rocking Artie to sleep in his arms.

She’s got her deep blue eyes locked onto Eddie’s face, a tiny little frown on her forehead, as if she’s intently listening to him.

Because Eddie is also humming a lullaby.

In Spanish.

“Hey princesa, look who’s back?” he coos when he sees Buck, but he continues rocking Artie calmly, a look of pure adoration on his face.

Buck…really needs to reboot.

Behind him, Nat pushes him aside to go back to her bed, and snorts.

He ignores her, and manages to shake himself – quite literally – off the apparition in front of him.

He decides to ask Chris about the book instead.

While Eddie continues whisper-singing to Buck’s daughter in a soothing lull of Spanish…

Fuck.

As expected, the whole lot of the Buckley-Dollenmeyer troop is discharged at 3pm that afternoon.

Lyle, Nat’s friend, dutifully shows up to get her home safely. She bullies Buck into packing her things, perched on the wheelchair she’s been forced into for the journey back to the parking lot; and then, she bullies him into a tight hug.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to see your face for a bit,” she chuckles. “I need time to forgive you for ruining my beautiful hips.”

He takes the statement for what it is – a joke – and chuckles back. “Your hips are still beautiful, Nat.” He kisses her forehead. “I’ll be checking on you.”

“Not too often,” she chastises. “And if I receive one more ‘You OK’ text, I’m sending you my lawyer.”

He laughs again, shakes Lyle’s hand and asks him to take care of Nat; and then she’s being wheeled out.

Chris, who was playing with his baby sister on the bed – Artie lying on her back and him tickling her little belly – then grumbles. “Are we going home or what?”

Eddie, finishing Artie’s bag, laughs. “We are. Impatient child.”

Chris rolls his eyes, places a hand on Artie’s stomach and addresses her. “Our dads are stupid, Artemis. But don’t worry, there’s at least one person in the house who’s got half a brain.”

“You’re talking about her, right?” Buck teases, but the joke falls flat, if Chris’s non-plussed glare is any indication.

Eddie places the car seat on top of the bed, and turns to Buck. “Papa? Are you doing the honours?”

Buck’s throat feels tight, and his eyes widen.

Eddie just called him Papa.

Oh fuuuuuuck.

After a second, he nods, moves to scoop Artie up and place her gently into the seat. She fusses a bit, unused to a sitting position, but he manages to soothe her long enough to strap her in and place a fuzzy blanket on top of her to protect her from the elements.

“Wait!” Chris says, going to the baby’s bag and fishing from it the littlest beanie ever. He comes to gently place it onto Artie’s head. “It’s windy today.”

Buck grins, melting, and barely has to adjust the beanie himself – just making sure it doesn’t fall into Artie’s eyes. “You’re the best big brother, Christopher Diaz.”

The teen rolls his eyes again. “As if that was ever in doubt.”

Eddie wraps an arm around his son’s shoulders. “It wasn’t.” He then looks up at Buck, then back at Chris. “Want to go with Buck and Artie? I can drive home alone.”

Christopher nods. “Obviously I’m going with Papa. What if Artie doesn’t like the car and starts crying? She’ll need someone to distract her!” He goes to the car seat. “Don’t worry, Artie. Cars can be scary at first, but they’re cool once you get used to it.”

Buck looks on, feeling his eyes prickle a bit.

Eddie presses their shoulders together. “Definitely the best big brother ever.”

Buck nods, emotional.

And then, he takes the car seat into his arms, checks that they haven’t forgotten a binky or a sock somewhere in the room, before turning to leave the hospital.

Turning to go back home.

Turning to take his daughter home.

Chapter Text

Eddie’s home has been definitely turned on its head.

Before Artie was born, the baby stuff was a bit abstract, there but barely noticed.

Now, though, it’s like half of the house is taken by paraphernalia or baby furniture.

Artie’s been here for two hours, and Buck already sees the difference.

After a tense car ride – tense on Buck’s part, because neither the baby nor the teenager babbling to her had any issue with it – they came home and Artie made her hunger known.

Eddie, joking that she already had her father’s bottomless stomach, prepared her bottle while Buck settled everything down, tidying whatever was left in the carry-on bag they’d brought to hospital while Chris looked after his little sister.

Chris who was adamant to feed her. He hadn’t had the opportunity yet, and he wanted to, okay?

With a frown that Buck couldn’t say no to, the teen settled on the couch, and let his dads help him get Artie in the right position to get her bottle.

While he does that, Buck tries to get his heart to calm down. Not because of any emotional realisation, no, not this time. Rather, he’s just been struck by the way the Diaz home is too small for two grown adults, a growing boy and a newborn. It feels like the walls are a bit closing in, like there is barely enough space to manoeuvre around the furniture at all, like the air is tight and…stale.

Eddie places a hand on his shoulder, sensing his distress as usual. “It’s only for another month.”

Buck nods, sighs a long deep breath. Only 34 days to go. After that, it’s going to be big house, big rooms, and space enough for all the stuff he has for Artie.

Artie who suddenly wails in Chris’s arms, and the teen startles, dropping the bottle that falls to the floor and spills a nearly untouched amount of milk.

Buck runs to his side, terrified out of his skin. “What happened? What’s wrong?” His hands run over Artie’s body, trying to find something amiss, a wound, a spider, anything. She doesn’t calm down for a good minute, her little face as red as Chris’s, who’s holding her steady but who looks absolutely livid.

“I don’t know… She seemed to be eating, but there was barely any milk gone from the bottle, and then, she started crying and fussing.”

Eddie comes to stand behind the couch, frowning. “Is it the same milk as in the hospital?”

“Of course,” Buck snaps, a bit too harshly, perhaps. He immediately apologizes. “Sorry. Sorry, princess,” he tries to soothe Artie some more, and she calms down a bit, but her stomach is making some grumbling noise and feels tight to the touch. “I think she might be having colic,” he murmurs, at a loss.

“Already?” Eddie seems puzzled. “Chris started having those a few weeks down the line…”

“What else could it be?” Buck is still a bit snappy, and he scoops his daughter into his arms, much to a distraught Chris’s disappointment.

“Did I do something wrong?” the boy asks, retreating into himself, almost.

Buck immediately feels bad. “No, no, Chris. You were doing everything right. Don’t worry.” He doesn’t want the teen to feel inadequate in any way, not after the bullying he’s been through.

Besides, he really didn’t do anything wrong.

He looks at Artie on his shoulder, fussing and making tiny uncomfortable noises, and while he wonders what’s going on, she promptly vomits what little she consumed down the back of his shirt.

“Oh shit,” Eddie runs to his side with a towel, dabbing his shirt, Artie’s face then the ground where gross smelling milk has dripped.

Buck straightens his daughter into his arms, and doesn’t know what to do except apologize. “I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” He feels lost, like he’s the worst father in the world, and he feels tears going to his eyes.

Eddie tuts, pushes him to sit on the couch, and hands Chris his phone.

“Call Maddie and ask her to come over. Stat. I’m cleaning this up.”

Buck is grateful for the help, but as he hugs Artie to his chest, he can’t help but sob a little.

Barely two days old, and he’s already failing his daughter…

It takes Maddie approximatively five minutes to figure out what’s wrong.

Which makes Buck feel even more useless as a father.

“She doesn’t keep this milk down. You need to change the brand. Now.”

Buck, sitting on the couch cradling a sleepy but hungry Artie to him, looks up at his sister, lost and weak. “Are you sure?”

She smiles softly. “I’ve seen this before. It’s nothing too bad. It’s like us: sometimes we digest a food easily, sometimes we can’t keep it down. Like you with salmon,” she adds with a little chuckle.

Chris, sitting on a chair, still a bit pale, snorts. “Gross.”

Eddie, who’s been standing by the front door this whole time, grabs his jacket and his keys. “Okay, I’m going to the pharmacy. Which milk should I take this time?”

Maddie looks over her shoulder. “The safest bet is the lactose-free one. It’s the easiest to keep down.” Eddie nods, and he’s off.

Buck has barely had time to breathe.

He looks at Artie, less fussy, but stomach empty, and he nearly whines. “I’m so unprepared for this. I thought I was. I read so many books…”

Maddie hugs his side, runs her free hand over her niece’s soft hair. “No one is truly prepared for this. I surely wasn’t.” She purses her lips. “I wasn’t a good mom for a while. But I felt like everyone expected it of me.” She presses a kiss to Buck’s forehead. “You’re a great dad already, Evan. Panicking for the first few weeks is normal. It’s all new, she’s all new,” she adds with another gentle caress to Artie’s head. “You need to get acquainted, to learn what she’s like, what she likes and doesn’t. When you do, you’ll be able to do this eyes closed.”

Buck sniffs and realises he’s been crying a little. “You think?”

“I know.”

“Artie doesn’t like rap music,” Chris pipes up from behind them.

Buck turns a bit to raise a quizzical brow.

Chris shrugs. “I made her listen to my playlist this morning at the hospital, before you and Natalia came back from your walk. She was calm for rock and pop, but she made a face at rap.”

Maddie chuckles, shares a knowing look with her brother. “See? She’s like a stranger you need to get to know.” She leans down, kisses Artie’s little cheek. “And what a cute stranger she is.”

Buck smiles a bit, but his heart still feels heavy.

He hopes Maddie is right, that he turns out to be a good dad once Artie is settled.

But what if he isn’t?

What if he fucks up?

“Stay for dinner?” he asks in a little voice.

Maddie grins. “I’ll be delighted. Let me tell my husband he’s alone with his best girl for the night.”

Buck huffs. “He’s gonna be ecstatic.”

She makes a face. “Wait until your little girl gets obsessed with Bluey, and tell me then if you’re ecstatic at the prospect of rewatching the same episode four times the same night…”

Somehow, Buck is looking forward to that.

Because it’ll mean that he hasn’t failed Artie completely…

Artie keeps the lactose-free milk down much more easily.

But she’s so hungry she swallows as much air as liquid, then gets gassy, then needs to be massaged to relieve her poor little belly.

What ensues is the worst smelliest most horrible poop in the history of poops.

Maddie, who’s stayed well into the night, laughs at her brother’s face. “You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he coughs while cleaning up Artie’s bum. “The smell will permeate everything.”

She laughs, pats his shoulder. “You’ll learn to keep the windows open for a while. But it’ll get better once she starts on solids.”

“In five months.”

“You’ll make it,” she winks.

Once Artie is swaddled back into a fluffy warm onesie and a matching beanie, her aunt swipes her into her arms and cuddles with her until it’s time for her to go home.

Chris, who magnanimously let Buck feed Artie the second time, demands to put her to bed. Of course, he can’t carry her to her crib, but he’s the one to check her blanket and switch on the ‘sudden death device’ as well as the baby monitor. He then shoos Buck and Eddie out of the room to tell his sister a bedtime story.

They can hear him from the kitchen as they do the dishes.

It brings a little tingle to Buck’s chest, and a smile to his lips.

“It’s all gonna be alright,” Eddie comforts as he dries plate after plate.

Buck sends him a tired look. “You think?”

“You’ve got an army behind you ready to help. Of course it’s gonna be alright.”

Eddie’s smile is warm, his eyes conveying pure unadulterated faith that makes Buck’s fingers slip on a glass that nearly shatters as it falls back into the sink.

They both ignore it.

That first night is as nightmarish as the previous ones.

First, Buck has to accept the fact that he’s to share Eddie’s bed with him, until the big move that is.

Sure, they’ve shared a bed before, during lockdown and sometimes when he’s too plastered and needs a mattress instead of a couch; but now it’s so…domestic. They’re lying next to each other, in their preferred spots – and isn’t that strange that they both sleep on opposite sides anyway? as if it was fated that they’d share at one point? – and there is a sleeping baby next to them.

It’s surreal.

Buck barely sleeps that night.

Both because of Eddie’s proximity and because of Artie. He counts her breaths as he’s done the previous two nights.

When Eddie’s alarm sounds at the break of dawn, Buck’s already in the kitchen, Artie cradled in his arms as he warms up a bottle.

Eddie doesn’t get paternity leave, of course, and he has to go back to work, while Buck chose to take the full twelve-week unpaid leave at once. The lack of money for three months is going to make things a bit tight, but they’ll make do. Chris already knows he’s going to have to like eating a lot of pasta for a while…

Eddie files out of the door after kissing Artie on the head and sharing a puzzling look with Buck, as though he was considering kissing him too… For a while after he’s gone, Buck ponders.

Then he puts it to the back of his mind. A tired hallucination, no doubt.

Thankfully, Chris is more than capable of taking care of his baby sister when she’s not fussing about a full diaper or empty stomach, so he manages to steal half-an-hour naps all throughout the day. It kind of helps.

Artie keeps on barely burping out any milk, which should suggest her stomach prefers the lactose-free one; but she keeps on drinking too greedily and swallowing too much air.

Buck spends the whole time she naps in the evening googling types of baby bottles that prevent too much aerophagy.

He’s weirdly proud of himself after placing the order.

The following week is a learning curve.

As he’s what can be described as a ‘stay-at-home dad’, Buck is in charge of nearly everything when Eddie’s working. He takes Chris to school; takes care of the groceries; fetches Chris from school; and obviously has to take care of Artie at the same time.

The first time he tries to cut the nails on her hands because she keeps scratching her face, he’s so anxious he feels like he’s going to sever her whole little finger. So he waits until the paediatrician’s visit to ask for advice, feeling stupid all the same, despite the doc’s reassurance that he’s doing a great job.

And maybe he is.

But he doesn’t feel like he is.

Even then, when Artie offers him her first smile on her eighth day, it’s like he’s won the lottery.

He really didn’t think it’d be possible to love someone that much.

But he does. God he does.

To top this all off, though, he gets the keys to the new house, and remembers the promise he made to the real estate agent: they’re only to store items in the garage or maybe the living-room, but no alterations have to be made before they sign the deed.

Still, Buck doesn’t think he has time to carry things to the new house at all. And so he starts panicking about that too.

He sees all the stuff in the Diaz household that need to be put into boxes, because he doesn’t think that packing everything on the 3^rd January is going to be feasible.

Thankfully, as Eddie said, he’s surrounded by an army of found family members only too eager to help.

Hen and Karen come to fetch the keys one morning and offer to transfer everything he put into their garage into the new house’s.

Maddie comes over one time to help pack half of the living-room’s contents, or at least all the non-essentials. She also, of course, spends quality-time with her niece.

She comes back with Chim to help box up most of the kitchen – Buck is sad to see some of his favourite appliances go already, despite knowing he won’t have time or energy to use them until January – and some of Chris’s stuff, with the teen’s help of course. Chris then spends a sleepover at the Hans’ with Jee, Mara and Denny.

That night, Artie is particularly quiet.

Usually, she wakes around 2am for a bottle and a change, but Buck doesn’t hear her fuss at all.

Somehow, that silence – or maybe some sort of internal clock thing – wakes him at 2:15.

He blinks out sleep and is surprised to see the crib empty, and a light on in the hallway.

When he finally notices the empty bed next to him, he understands that Eddie took care of Artie.

His heart does something complicated, then.

On the one hand, he’s glad that Eddie wants to take care of Artie like a father; and that he wanted Buck to get a little more sleep at the same time.

On the other hand, he feels frustrated that someone else is taking care of his baby, as if it was some convoluted message to tell him he’s inadequate as a parent and someone else is better at it than him.

Conflicted, but also curious, he gets up and chooses to eavesdrop a bit. Eddie hasn’t fully closed the bedroom door, so it’s easy to sneak into the corridor and get closer to the kitchen, where he can hear that humming lullaby that Eddie sang to Artie at the hospital.

This time, though, the lyrics are not in Spanish, but clearly improvised.

“I am Artemis, yes I am. I’m so cute and pretty. I’ve got curls like my daddy. My name’s Artie. I’ve got ten cute fingers and ten cute toes, and a cute tummy and a cute nose.” Buck hears what sounds like ‘nomnomnom’ and guesses that Eddie must be pretending to eat Artie’s nose.

He smiles to himself in the darkness of the hallway.

The bleep of the microwave announces that the bottle is warm. Buck hears Eddie finish preparing it while obviously balancing a baby in the other arm, and then, there’s the unmistakeable sound of Artie latching onto the bottle.

Eddie hums for a couple of seconds, then, starts talking softly, clearly trying not to wake Buck, who’s obviously awake and eavesdropping. “You know, you are the luckiest girl in the world, Artemis Buckley. You have the most wonderful father ever. You’ll see, he’s kind, and funny, and sooooo smart. I bet you’re gonna be as smart as him. I’ll feel so stupid next to all three of you big brains. Maybe I’ll teach you to paint. That’ll be nice.” Buck hears a smack: Eddie kissing Artie’s head. “I hope you know how much you’re loved, already, princesa. Your brother loves you, your Papa loves you, and I love you too. So so much.” Another kiss. “Your eyes are already changing a bit. Or maybe I’m seeing what I want to see. I hope you get your Papa’s eyes, they are so beautiful.” He starts humming again, and Buck…

Well, Buck has to lean on the wall to make sure he doesn’t fall to his knees.

Fucking hell.

He’s in love with Eddie.

Chapter Text

Figuring out that he’s in love with his best friend hits Buck like a freight train.

One minute he’s there, in the corridor, listening to Eddie talking sweet nothings to Artemis, the next he’s back in bed, eyes squeezed shut and trying to force his brain to stop rehashing every single second of their friendship.

Because being in love with Eddie definitely isn’t a new development.

All things considered, it’s probably getting old, by now. So engrained in Buck’s very DNA that he was incapable of separating it from just…friendship, he supposes.

He’s never had a best friend. Maddie doesn’t count, she’s his sister/mother figure. He was popular at school, but the others were only interested in the superficial side of him, not his deep likes or his little perks.

The 118 is more complex, but as much as he adores Chimney and Hen, neither of them are best friend material. They’re more like extra siblings.

Eddie was the first friend he thought ‘yes, I’m keeping this one, he’s my ride or die’.

And somewhere along those lines, he mistook attraction and deep-rooted feelings for fucking friendship.

The catalyst, therefore?

Eddie with a baby in his arms, talking about Buck’s eyes.

Buck, hearing that, picturing that, and wanting…

Well…

Wanting to burst into the kitchen to snog Eddie senseless.

Yeah.

And that too, now that his brain is whirring alive with ‘told you so told you so told you so’, isn’t new.

Buck is a moron.

In the light of day, his realisation hits even harder.

Because now, every single thing of Eddie’s makes Buck’s heart leap and stop and beat faster.

Like the way he scrunches his nose when he takes his first sip of coffee; or the way he wiggles into jeans that shape his round ass way too well. The tattoo on his arm that matches Buck’s and that he suddenly wants to trace with his tongue.

The way he blushes so freakinshly pink.

His hair, mussed by sleep, a shower or exertion at the gym.

His brown eyes framed by stupidly long lashes.

The way he says ‘Buck’ with a hint of exasperation but still so goddamn fond.

Those lips when he kisses Artie on the head before leaving for work.

…

Those hands he once reached for Buck with when lying on the asphalt, bleeding.

That ankle that rests along with its sister on the couch when they watch a movie in the living-room and that Buck nearly broke because he was too stupid to realise he wasn’t jealous of Eddie but of Tommy.

Those hands, again, that brought Buck back to life, even though he doesn’t remember it.

Those hands, still, that hold Buck’s hips when he checks a harness or stops him from running into danger.

His laugh.

His stupid dad jokes.

Those tiny snores he makes when he falls asleep slightly tipsy.

Buck sits there, recalling ever single second of their acquaintance, and realising that, all this time, it was Eddie. Eddie and always Eddie.

Fucking fuck.

He’s feeding Artie on the couch, the house empty, and as he looks at his daughter, at her deep blue eyes that are starting to lighten around the pupils, something warm runs through him, like a hot shower running down his spine.

This is it.

Eddie is it.

What he’s been looking for all this time was right under his nose, and he’s just the most moronic moron in existence.

“What are you doing?”

Buck barely looks up from the pile of papers spread in front of him, but he feels his heart stutter a bit in his chest.

Play it cool, Buck, play it cool.

Chris is in the living-room playing video-games while keeping an eye on his sister in her playpen – though she’s still too little to play and they use it for naps instead – and Eddie clearly just came in from work, because Buck can smell the bodywash they share in the station’s showers on him.

“I’m checking our finances.”

Eddie rounds the table to stand behind him, and Buck feels electrified, all too aware of his presence at his back, the distance between them suddenly too taut.

Eddie leans over his shoulder, his chest barely grazing Buck’s head, but it’s enough to set him on fire. “Mmh,” his best friend hums, eyeing the pile of groceries receipts and bills, “is it that bad?”

Buck sighs, his focus back on the matter at hand and not the fact his body is ready to leap onto Eddie, tackle him to the kitchen table, and cover him in love bites. “So far we’re okay, but the lack of second pay is going to hit hard come New Year. With the new house and everything.”

Eddie hums again, and sits down next to him, their legs and shoulders pressed together because apparently they’ve never been able to sit normally, and Buck is just now realising it. “Okay, let’s look over those together. It’ll be quicker, and two minds are better than one.”

And Buck can’t refuse him anything. It’s pathetic, really.

“Chris?” he calls as Eddie takes ownership of a pile of receipts.

“Yeah?” the teen calls back, and Buck can picture him, headphones tilted so he can hear Artie’s cries if need be.

“Everything alright?”

“Still sleeping soundly, don’t worry, Pa!”

Buck smiles to himself as he does every time Chris uses that name on him, and he shouts “Great! Call me when she wakes!” to which he doesn’t get an answer – Chris probably groaned, but he couldn’t hear from the kitchen.

Eddie is watching him when he turns back to him.

“What?” he asks, a bit self-consciously.

Eddie’s smiling too, though. “You’ll get used to it.”

And Buck doesn’t need to ask what he’s talking about.

Though he doubts he’s ever going to get used to Chris calling him ‘Papa’ or ‘Pa’. It’s feels miraculous each and every time.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Eddie seems to say more for his benefit than Buck’s, because Edmundo Diaz hates doing bills and budget-related things. It’s cute, really.

In the end, they manage to make a plan to reduce their food and beverage costs by nearly 200$ a month simply by stopping to order so much take-away – Eddie manages to get a one-time-a-month allowance from Buck – organizing their weekly menus to make sure they only buy what they need at the store, and deciding to drink less soda and more water – maybe with some lemon juice or syrup added, but that’s a big maybe.

There’s also Chris’s subscriptions to his various gaming platforms, so they enlist the teen’s aid at one point, and go through all of them, reducing the subs from five to three.

And when Artie wakes up, Buck remembers he needs to also take into account her powdered milk – which, obviously, is more expensive than the one he wanted to buy initially – and diapers. He doesn’t want to compromise on anything when it comes to his daughter, but then accepts that she’s already got a big enough wardrobe, and the cute little socks he bought on his last grocery run were totally superfluous.

All in all, their adulting afternoon is rather productive, and Buck feels better knowing he won’t get any money for a few more weeks.

He’s extremely thankful for the fact that he and Eddie already bought their Christmas presents back in September… That’s one less massive cost to take into account.

“Eh,” Eddie says after they’re done, as Buck is feeding Artie in the kitchen, swaying from side to side as she calmly eats – those new bottles are magic. He notices that Eddie is texting someone. “Tia Pepa and Abuela want to meet Artie. They were thinking about a pre-Christmas dinner, since Pepa is going to my parents’ on the day.” He says it casually, whereas before, he’d be looking slightly guilty to remain in Los Angeles and not spending Christmas with his folks.

Now, however, after everything, after they took Chris from him; after the bullshit they sprung on Chris’s birthday; after the bullying affair……Eddie is more than ever free from his parents. Buck is proud.

“We can do something on Saturday, if they want? You’re off, right?” Artie groans, and Buck looks down, amazed to see that she’s already trying to grab the bottle on her own, annoyed that her dad isn’t tilting it back quick enough. Makes him chuckle a bit.

Eddie looks as enamoured, really. “Yeah, I’m off Friday too, if you want reprieve from grocery shopping.”

“That’d be great. I promised Hen to come and see her with Artie, she hasn’t seen her in a bit.” Eight days, which, admittedly, is a century in a newborn’s life.

“Deal, then,” Eddie smiles softly, stands after tidying up the pile of papers, and comes to kiss Artie on the head. “Now move, I’ll start on dinner.”

And Buck will never not be amazed that Eddie learnt how to cook; but he’ll also never get used to the butterflies in his stomach when he watches him makes food for their family.

He’s pretty sure he’s got heart eyes on full display right now, but he turns them to Artie instead to save face.

Isabel and Josephina Diaz have never really acted as guests in Eddie’s house. Which is, in a way, totally normal, since they are his closest relatives, and Buck feels like they are both Eddie’s maternal figures in their own distinct way.

Still, it feels a bit weird when they arrive and Isabel plucks Artie out of Buck’s arms while Pepa directs him to the couch and they loudly exclaim that they are both taking charge today.

Eddie is also directed to the couch and they are both presented with a cup of matcha tea – sweetened, because Buck can’t stand the taste – that Isabel made on the spot. Chris is hired as his great-grandmother’s sous-chef, because she seems adamant to cook a feast without letting go of Artemis for even a second.

Pepa gets to hold the baby at critical moments in the food preparation, and Buck laughs when he hears Isabel nearly beat her daughter with a wooden spoon to get her back.

Even changing and feeding time are taken care of by the two hurricanes of a Diaz.

Eddie looks stunned into compliance for about an hour, and then, he melts into the couch cushions, and grins. “It’s nice, having them taking care of everything, right?”

Buck hums, still half-turned towards the kitchen, just in case. “Do you think it’s alright? To…stay here while they do so much for us?”

“You’ll repay them,” Eddie pats his arm, and Buck feels warmer all of a sudden. “Just let them have Artie around often, and they’ll love you even more than they already do.”

Buck feels sheepish at that, because being loved by Isabel and Josephina Diaz is really the greatest privilege ever.

“Do you need help for the big move?” Pepa asks in the middle of their improvised pre-Christmas lunch.

For once, Buck was allowed to hold his daughter, and now that she’s been fed, she’s dozing off in his arms while he tries to eat one-handed.

He tries and fails to fight back a blush when Eddie snatches his plate to cut his food in smaller bites without even addressing the matter. He keeps conversing with his aunt as if he’s not just sent Buck’s heart into overdrive.

“We should have enough people,” he tells her before pushing Buck’s plate back to him. “The whole gang is coming to help. But we were thinking about inviting everyone to dinner when we’re done, so you could come too. Our first party at the big house.”

Buck doesn’t need to say anything. He’s in assent with everything Eddie says. He can almost already see it: a big, chaotic but merry dinner thrown in a mostly empty house, with laughter and happiness filling the air and permeating the walls.

“Can you still be there for the christening?” he asks after another bite.

Artie’s christening had to be pushed back a few weeks, but it’s still happening on the 29^th December, and both Diaz women are going to El Paso for the holidays.

Isabel’s smile is soft, her touch to his wrist motherly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Evanito. Besides,” she shares a glance with her daughter, “I have news.”

Chris perks up. He’s been silent all lunch, no doubt thinking about his thwarted gaming matinee. “Are you moving back here?” he gleefully asks his great-grandmother.

Isabel grins at him, nods softly. “I am, chico.” She turns to Eddie. “I want to surround myself with the people I love most, and who are closer to my own values.” Buck swallows a lump in his throat. This is a blatant dig at her son and daughter-in-law, but he’s not going to complain. “And I want to see this little treasure grow up,” she leans closer to run a finger down Artie’s little arm.

Buck’s heart soars. Not only does Isabel mean that she considers his daughter family; but she’s also moving back to Los Angeles.

And he won’t deny that she was sorely missed, by no one more than her grandson.

Eddie, eyes a bit teary, gets up from his chair and rounds the table to hug his Abuela, muttering stuff in Spanish that Buck doesn’t understand, but no matter.

This is the most joyous occasion ever; and when Artie coos back awake a few minutes later, the bickering resumes around the table to decide who’s getting the right to dote on the baby.

This time, Chris wins.

But he still drags his Bisabuela to Eddie’s – and Buck’s – bedroom so she can help him dress Artie into proper clothes, because he’s decided they’re going for a walk.

And waffles.

And to see the Christmas lights.

Pepa pushes the stroller down the street, Chris and Isabel framing it and checking on Artie every two seconds; Buck and Eddie walk at the back, peacefully following their lead.

Buck shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, because every time his arm grazes Eddie’s, he has the crazy and overwhelming urge to take his hand.

Chapter Text

Artemis is almost a month old when she starts suffering bad colic that nothing seems to soothe, except one thing.

Eddie takes her into his arms, face down, stomach pressed to his forearm and both hands splayed on her aching tummy. As he sways, she settles. Eddie says Chris had the same problem when he was little, and thus was born what he calls the ‘Top Gun’.

Buck…spirals.

Ever since Artie was born, he’s been having this growing sentiment that he’s not good enough for her. After the milk thing, he even started to convince himself that he was a bad father, incapable of understanding what his daughter needs and feels.

Maddie, Eddie, Bobby and even Abuela give advice that feels much more like judgement than help, and he hates it.

Therefore, about three days before Christmas, he and Eddie have a fight.

Sort of.

It goes like this: Artie has woken up from her nap in her playpen, and is fussing to get her lunch. Eddie goes to fetch her, but Buck beats him to it, sweeping her up before his best friend can reach her. Eddie makes a face, shrugs, then turns to the kitchen to no doubt prepare her bottle. There again, Buck beats him to it, and nearly swats him away from the room.

“What’s going on with you today?” Eddie snaps, irritated.

Buck grits his teeth. “I can take care of my daughter on my own. Go do something else.”

Eddie freezes, and stares for a long while, as Buck can feel his eyes on the side of his head. He refuses to turn around, though, so, after a minute or two, he hears a short sigh, and the stomps of Eddie leaving the room.

They don’t talk again that day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Buck is exhausted, taking care of Artie on his own. Even Christopher is forbidden from even cuddling his sister, though he dismisses the teen much more gently.

He’s also exhausted because Eddie has been sleeping on the couch for three nights. But that’s neither here nor there.

He is Artemis’s father. He has to take care of her on his own. That’s his job. What kind of dad would he be if he relied on everyone else?

Christmas Eve was tense, to say the least.

Christmas morning is even worse.

Christopher is adamant that they all open one present now, before heading to Bobby and Athena’s for lunch. They didn’t put up a tree or decorations, considering their move is a week away, but the presents have been placed in a corner of the living-room anyway, close to a pile of boxes that Chris decided would double as a tree.

Buck settles on the couch, closest to Artie’s pen just in case. Eddie…goes to lean on the buffet, keeping his distance and crossing his arms.

Chris distributes the presents, ignoring the tension between the adults in the room.

He tears away the paper protecting the gift his Bisabuela sent over: a bedside lamp in the shape of a rocket.

“Cool! It’ll go really well with the colour of my new bedroom!” He then heads to Artie. “Your turn, hermanita.”

Buck raises a hand, as if to stop Chris from grabbing the tiny box he balanced on the edge of the playpen, but the boy is quicker – closer – and he turns his back on Buck pointedly.

Buck feels like shit.

He suddenly realises that, by being at his daughter’s side 24/7, he’s also kept her away from her brother. And that is unforgiveable.

“Loooooook, Artie!” Chris coos, leaning closer to the playful baby, “It’s a night light!” She makes grabby hands at the thing, but Chris is careful not to let her get a hold of it too much. “It’s a fox! Your favourite!”

It’s true that Artie has been increasingly interested in anything fox-shaped lately. Her favourite cuddly toy is a soft fox that Hen offered her when they came to visit a week ago.

“Buck, open yours now,” Christopher says, rather curt, still playing with his sister, who lets out a coo like a laugh.

Buck’s heart squeezes. Buck. Not Pa, as has been the norm lately.

God, Chris really is pissed at him.

In the corner of his eye, he can see Eddie opening his own present, the one from Christopher himself: a diary, because Father Brian has been advising him to put into words whatever he felt without being able to voice it.

Buck gingerly opens his own gift, the one signed ‘Maddie, Chim and Jee-Yun’, and he finds a brand-new apron with a ‘strong arm’ emoji taking most of the space, and ‘My Dad is the Strongest Cook’ in fancy lettering below it.

Neither Eddie nor Chris comment on it. They are both actually avoiding glancing in his direction.

It hurts.

So Buck clears his throat, and stands from the couch. “I’ll……go dress Artie. Then we can go.”

Neither Diaz acknowledges his words, and Chris nearly runs from the playpen when he gets close.

Buck feels like über shit.

The drive to the Grant-Nashes’ is tense, and the silence only broken by Artie’s quiet coos and Christopher’s constant tapping on his phone. The fact that the teen isn’t even talking to his little sister now is a testament to how pissed he is at Buck, and how stubborn about it too.

Thankfully, Buck is driving – he usually is – and can’t focus too much on what’s happening – or not happening – in the back of the car; instead, he focusses on the road and its many perils.

Once they’re here, Eddie grabs the housewarming gift they brought their hosts: a photo-frame filled with candids of everyone in the 118 and associated with them. Buck was very proud of himself when he and Eddie chose the photos – since he took most of them – but right now, having photographic proof of what was before he fucked it all up hurts.

Eddie and Chris get to the door first, leaving Buck to take Artie’s car seat, her travel bag and the bag of Christmas gifts from the trunk.

At first, buckling under the weight of said gifts and the growing weight of his daughter in her seat – especially when she’s being wiggly – he wants to call out to Eddie for help.

Then, he realises that 1. he usually doesn’t need to ask Eddie for help, because on any other day he’d have already shouldered half the burden; and 2. this whole fucking mess started when he told him – and Chris – that he could handle it all himself on his lonesome, that he had to.

So he reaches Bobby’s new front door, back bowed under the weight both of what he’s carrying and of his own stupidity.

Even if, deep down, he still believes that he and he alone should take care of Artie. That she’s his burden to bear.

As soon as he thinks that, he bites the inside of his cheek and internally apologizes to his sweet, precious, perfect daughter.

He really is a piece of shit dad.

Bobby and Athena’s new home looks very little like the one that burned down. It’s all on one level, for one, and while it’s mostly open-plan like the old house, the rooms are more cleverly spaced out, and more spacious, which makes it look at least twice as big, even though Buck knows that there isn’t a single square meter more in the new build.

They kept some walls in decorative brick, just like before, but the furniture is made of fuzzy armchairs and plushy couch; comfortable looking chair cushions, and fake plants everywhere, that give the whole home more of a cosy feeling than an industrial one.

Bobby’s kitchen, Buck knows – he saw the pictures – is in clear wood tones, boasting the best appliances but lacking the cold feeling of a professional kitchen space.

“Here she is, my little princess!” comes the call from the man himself.

With a wide grin, Bobby comes into the large entry – that is also a change – and snatches Artie from her car seat, peppering her little face with kisses that make her coo and wiggle some more.

Buck feels a pang of something in his chest, something proprietary, but Bobby’s Artie’s grandfather, he shouldn’t feel that way.

“You are so pretty today! Your Nana is going to eat you alive!” Bobby continues to use a silly, enamoured voice as he leaves Buck in the entrance hall. At first, he thinks that Eddie and Chris probably told everyone else about his choice to push them away; but it seems that Bobby merely forgot he was there as soon as he saw his granddaughter, for he turns around when he reaches the archway at the other end, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Buck, sorry!” His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “You can put Artie’s things in the living-room, I’ll show you her room later.”

Her room.

Because obviously, Bobby – and Athena – expect their grandbaby to have sleepovers at their place, one day. Like, you know, normal grandparents doting on their grandchild.

And half of him wants to tear Artie away and bring her back home, where she’s safe and he can watch her all the time; and half of him melts because Bobby and Athena really love Artemis as though she was their own blood.

When he enters the living space, the first thing he sees is Athena, Maddie, Chim and Karen surrounding Bobby and all greeting Artie with touches, smiles and coos.

He takes a step towards them, a sudden imperious need to take her away, but Hen is there to stop him, her hands on his shoulders and a worried look on her face.

“Buck? Are you alright?”

He blinks away the rage that he felt upon seeing so many people touch his daughter, and looks at her. “Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look horrible,” she jokes, patting his shoulder with one hand and his cheek with the other. “Merry Christmas.”

He lets out a stunned huff, remembering all at once why he’s here, now. He brings Hen into a hug that surprises her, and whispers “Merry Christmas, Hen” before kissing her on the cheek.

He does his rounds the same way, holding tight onto the people he loves before they hate him forever. He already messed up the two most important relationships in his life, he knows what heartbreak to expect, now.

Athena remarks on his tired demeanour too, but unlike Hen, easily distracted by a hug, she pulls him to a seat and drills him like he’s in an interrogation room.

“Are you sleeping? What did you have for breakfast? Do you drink enough water? How long have you been this tired? Is it Artie?”

He answers half-truths. Yes, he sleeps – an hour at most per night, but still. He ate cereal this morning – two spoonfuls before he threw it away. Yes, he drinks enough – once or twice a day, when he remembers to. He’s been tired for a few days – since he fucked things up. No, Artie’s perfect – she is, because he makes sure she is.

Athena tuts, apparently seeing right through him, and she leaves for a few minutes before propping a plate full of whatever Bobby prepared for the apéritif, and a pint of water. “You’re not leaving this chair until both of those are empty.”

“But…Artie—"

“Is with her Pops, and surrounded by people who know what to do if she needs anything.” Her tone is sharp, like a mother trying to make her stubborn son see sense.

“You shouldn’t have to—”

“I don’t have to, I want to. Now shush, eat, and drink.” She stands again, kisses his forehead, and turns to follow Bobby’s directions on what hors-d’oeuvres to put in what plate, since his arms are full. Artie, sat on his right arm, her back pressed to her Pops’ chest, is eyeing everything in the room with interest, her big blue eyes filled with wonder.

Buck tries to push down the feeling that this is not a safe holding position, that she can fall from there easily. He shouldn’t be feeling this. This is Bobby. Bobby wouldn’t drop Artie.

He wouldn’t.

Right?

Buck groans, squeezes his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, he crosses Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie, who’s standing as far from him as possible, talking with Karen.

Eddie, who’s staring at him, lips pursed as if he’s fighting himself. Fighting the urge to ask Buck what’s wrong, before remembering he’s pissed at him.

So Buck averts his eyes, looks to the plate of delicious-looking food that suddenly looks like cardboard pieces to him.

He gets through the entrée easily enough, even though his stomach is still queasy; but once Bobby goes to the kitchen to prepare the main course, Buck loses it.

Artie is currently in her car seat, propped onto a high wicker basket at the head of the table, between him and Maddie, who’s facing him.

Artie, who’s got that look on her face that means that her diaper is full – she ate not half-an-hour ago, can’t be hangriness so soon.

Maddie stands to take her in her arms, to take care of the situation, but Buck…yeah, as stated before, he loses it.

He stands so quickly that his chair falls behind him in a loud clack – he would worry about breaking a brand-new chair any other day than today – and he nearly tears Artie away from her aunt with a loud ‘No!’ that takes everyone by surprise.

Artie most of all, as she immediately starts to wail in his arms.

“No,” he pants again, pressing his daughter to his heart to try and calm her down, “I have to change her. Stay here. She’s my daughter. I am changing her.”

Maddie’s brown eyes are wide, worried but also fearful. Buck realises that he’s just basically raised his hand against his sister, and he feels sick.

He turns to Athena, avoiding her eyes because he’s sure he’s going to see disappointment, maybe even disgust, if he looks up. “Where can I go?”

“Second door on the left,” she answers, her voice blank, just like the table who’s fallen eerily silent.

He’s reached the corridor behind the fireplace when he ears Christopher tell everyone that “Buck doesn’t let us touch her either. It’s like we’re contagious, or something. I can’t even give her her bottle as I usually do.”

His heart breaks a bit more, and as he closes the door behind himself and a still crying Artie, he feels like he’s closed the door on so much more…

It takes about thirty seconds for someone to follow him in.

He’s changing Artie on a soft green changing table, his eyes prickling with tears he refuses to shed while caring for his baby daughter; and he has half a mind to shove the intruder back out, but he’s already done enough damage for one day.

He hears Bobby’s hushed voice repeat ‘No, I’ll go alone. Wait here, he’ll be fine. Wait here’ before the door closes again, muffling whomever was trying to force their way in.

Buck finishes Artie’s diaper, ignoring Bobby pointedly.

But his Captain is more patient and more emotionally intelligent than anyone gives him credit for, and soon, his hands enter Buck’s field of vision, gently taking hold of a freshly redressed Artie and lifting her off the changing table.

Buck makes an aborted move to stop him, but when he turns, Bobby is simply placing Artie in a proper bed, soft green like most of the furniture, now that Buck is paying attention to the room.

The walls are beige, nondescript, but there are touches of green, pastel yellow and pastel blue in almost every object. A small custom sign hangs on the closed door’s panel, claiming the room as belonging to ‘Artemis’.

When Buck turns back to Bobby, the man is already facing him.

With kind eyes but determination, he directs him to a rocking chair with a sun cushion on it that Buck latches on and cradles to his chest like a child.

Bobby chooses a small blue stool, and sits in front of him.

“Alright. What’s wrong?” the question is simple in itself, but it burns something in Buck’s chest.

He feels like he doesn’t deserve Bobby’s kindness right now. “I’ve fucked it all up, Bobby. Everything.”

Bobby’s hand rests on his knee, thumb tracing soothing circles on it. “No, you haven’t. Now tell me, what happened back there? What happened with Christopher and Eddie too, by the sound of it?”

Buck tries to shrink into the rocking chair. If he had longer nails, he’s certain that he’d have pierced the cushion by now, shredded it to pieces. “I…I…” he takes a shuddering breath, “I am Artie’s father.”

Bobby nods with a small smile. “That you are. You’re written all over her face.”

Buck’s lip trembles in a semblant of a smile too, but it fades quickly. “I am her father, so I have to take care of her. That’s my job.”

Bobby looks a bit confused, then. “Of…course. I don’t—”

But Buck is on a roll, now. “I am her father, it’s my job to give her whatever she needs, and no one else’s!” The last three words are raised in volume, and he presses the sun cushion to his face to muffle his voice again. “No one else’s.”

Bobby’s lips purse, his free hand joining the other on Buck’s other knee, and this time he is applying pressure, showing that he means business. “Buck. Are you telling me that you’re the only person who can touch Artie, care for her, love her? Is that what you mean?”

“Noooo,” he croaks, almost in pain. “But… When she needs something, a bottle, a change, a cuddle… It should be me.”

“Why?” Bobby’s eyes are still kind, but focussed.

“Because…” Buck’s voice drops, muffled further by the cushion he’s still clutching like a lifeline, “because otherwise she’ll prefer other people to me. She won’t like me.”

Bobby lets out a huff of surprise. “What on Earth are you talking about? Why wouldn’t your daughter like you?”

“Because I keep failing her!” he shouts again, throwing the cushion far away from him. “When she was born, I didn’t see that she couldn’t keep the milk down; that was Maddie. When she gets cranky, Christopher plays her Jurassic Park’s theme music, and she calms down. When she gets colic, it’s Eddie who knows how to soothe her. Everyone else is more useful to my daughter than me. I’m nothing. I thought I was ready to be a dad, and I’m a piece of shit.”

Bobby groans at that, stands from the stool and pulls Buck out of the rocking chair – not without effort. He places his hands on Buck’s shoulders and makes sure he looks at him when he says “Evan Buckley, you are an amazing father. You provided Artemis with all that she needed in life: a home, clothes, food, a family that dotes on her. There’ll be hurdles along the way, but that’s true for any parent on this Earth. Do you think Hen and Karen have never felt useless to their kids? That Athena didn’t feel like she failed May when she attempted on her own life? That I never felt like my kids preferred Marcy to me because I was absent so often?” He sighs. “Artie will never not love you, Buck. She may not like you when those teenage years hit, but she’ll always love you. And if you need help from time to time, it doesn’t make you a bad parent.”

Buck blinks back tears. Artie is cooing happily in her bed – because this is her room, hers, built by her grandparents because they love her – and it gives him a little bit of strength.

“But… Maddie, and Eddie…”

“Maddie, Eddie, Hen, Karen, Chim, Athena and me are all parents, Buck. We have experience. Asking for help from someone who’s been through this before is neither shameful nor a sign that you are a bad father.” Bobby grimaces. “We both know much worse parents out there than you could ever be.”

Buck feels something warm bloom in his chest, where there had only been darkness and cold these past days.

He looks at Artie again. She’s happy, he thinks.

But she’d be happier if he let her big brother tell her bedtime stories again.

She’d be happier if he let Eddie pretend she was a pilot in Top Gun and zoom her through the living-room again.

She’d be happier if he trusted himself not to fuck this up irreparably.

He takes a few deep breaths.

Looks back at Bobby. “It’s…going to be hard. To not…feel like…I’m not doing enough.”

Bobby brings him into a hug. “We’ll be there to remind you.”

Buck melts into the embrace.

Bobby leaves the room with Artemis a few minutes later, already babbling to his granddaughter about the magnificent dessert he prepared this morning, promising that she’ll be able to taste it when she’s older.

Buck takes a few more moments to compose himself.

The door has been left open, and beyond it, leaning on the opposite wall, is Eddie.

Their eyes meet.

Buck feels a lump in his throat, hangs his head. “How much of it did you hear?”

“Only some,” the other man answers. “Hard not to when you’re shouting.” But despite his cutting words, he’s smiling a bit. “Did Bobby knock some sense into you?  He wouldn’t have absconded with Artie without you throwing a fit otherwise…”

Buck feels like the worst piece of garbage the world has ever known.

He takes long strides to close the distance between them, eyes once again filling with tears. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and done what I’ve done.” He averts his eyes. “I shouldn’t have taken Artie from you both.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Eddie’s hand snakes its way up to its usual Spot on Buck’s collarbone. “But I get where you’re coming from. Perhaps even better than anyone else.” He takes a step closer, and they’re almost pressed chest to chest now.

Buck knows that Eddie’s thumb, close to his pulse, can feel how fast his heart is beating.

It’s even worse when those wonderful brown eyes look up under those ridiculously long lashes. “Artemis couldn’t ever not love the amazing Papa she’s got. It’s impossible.” His voice has dropped a little, to keep their conversation secret, no doubt.

When Buck breathes out a sigh, Eddie’s eyes go to his lips, and his heart decides to skip a beat or two.

Eddie looks back up after two agonizing seconds where Buck fought himself not to lean in and kiss him. “Don’t take my princess away from me again, please.” A soft smile. “I missed her.” Another breath. “And you need sleep.”

Buck feels like the word ‘princess’ is a substitute for another word beginning with ‘d’, but right then, Chimney’s voice breaks the moment.

“Oi you two! Hurry up, we have something to tell everyone!”

Buck and Eddie look at each other some more, and when Eddie’s hand drops from his shoulder, Buck feels cold.

Nobody comments on Buck’s puffy eyes or what happened half-an-hour ago.

Instead, Karen brings Eddie to her side and links their arms with an endearing familiarity; while Chris and Denny fuss over Artie, still firmly sat in Bobby’s arms.

Athena walks to him and pats his cheek before linking their arms together too.

Buck turns to his sister and Chim, standing facing everyone while Jee-Yun draws at the table with Mara. Maddie glances at him for a second, then looks around.

“Alright, we waited a few weeks before telling you all,” she starts, beaming.

“But now we can’t keep it to ourselves anymore,” finishes Chim, and everyone laughs, because he truly is appalling at keeping secrets, even his own.

Buck understands before Maddie’s hand has moved to her stomach. He gasps, attracting several eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ooohs and aaahs erupt in the room, and everyone hurries to the couple’s side to congratulate them.

Buck is overwhelmed.

Because he’s going to become an uncle again, and everyone knows how much he adores his darling niece. The idea of adding another pair of feet to those he loves the most is the best feeling in the word.

But.

He hurt Maddie. Possibly scared her.

So, when he brings her into his arms, he’s sobbing into her shoulder, a litany of ‘congratulations’ and ‘I’m so sorry’ mingling until his words are unintelligible.

Maddie holds him tight, kisses the side of his head.

“I love you, Evan.”

He lets those words encompass him, and keeps hugging her.

Chapter Text

“Papa! Dad! Artie’s being gross again!”

Buck finishes buttoning his white shirt and runs to the living-room.

Christopher is holding his sister as far away from his body as possible, his arms wobbling a bit but holding on, a mighty disgusted expression on his face.

“Oh, Artie, please, no…” Buck moans, coming closer once he understands the matter at hand.

His daughter, freshly dressed in her christening outfit…having just had an explosive poop.

Eddie erupts from the bathroom, his hair gelled – Buck wants to run his hands through the strands to make it less…boring – and eyes wide. “What’s happened?”

“Artemis has decided to make sure we are late!” Buck says as he takes Artie from her brother. “Chris, you really ought to learn how to change her.”

The teen’s nose scrunches again as crosses his arms. “Hell no. You decided to have her, you take care of the gross stuff. I get to have the fun stuff.”

“Yeah, fun until she coughs her milk back up, eh, then she’s mine again, isn’t she?”

Chris groans. “Yeah she is.”

Buck rolls his eyes playfully as he passes Eddie to take care of the situation.

Thankfully, Artie’s nuclear poop ‘merely’ got through to her bodysuit, and not her pristine, lace trimmed dress.

(Apparently, lace is all the rage for Catholic christenings.)

“You are being very naughty, today, missy,” he tells her when he has wiped her clean and is dressing her in a clean onesie. He blows a raspberry to her stomach, prompting the joyful and bell-like laughter he’s fallen in love with.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to get baptised after all,” Eddie says from the bedroom door.

He’s leaning there, regarding the scene with fond brown eyes.

Buck has the urge to pull him in and close the door, but they’re late, there’s a baby in the room, and most importantly, Eddie doesn’t share his feelings.

“Don’t be stupid. She just doesn’t want to meet your Priest.”

Eddie huffs. “You say that, but once you actually meet the man, I’m sure you’ll get on like a house on fire. Or maybe a church.”

Buck snorts. “I doubt it.”

“I would take a bet, but you need the money to spoil this one rotten. Hola princesa,” he purrs as Buck takes Artie back into his arms to finally get this show on the road. He gently takes her from her father, and kisses her cheek loudly. “Ready to get your lovely curls messed up by holy water?”

Buck watches them leave the room, utterly speechless.

Really, if he didn’t know he was in love with Eddie, he’d fall for him every single time he saw him interact in any way with Artie.

(He’s quite convinced that, if he had ovaries, they’d spend half their existence exploding in Eddie’s vicinity.)

They miraculously make it to the church a mere twelve minutes late.

Buck is embarrassed, especially when he sees his parents in the pews. His mother’s downturned lips are already a clue that she’s not exactly happy about their lateness.

The Buckleys made the trip down for Artie’s christening, to meet her properly; they’re spending New Year’s in the city – not with their children – and Phillip offered Buck to come help for the move. Buck has yet to give him an answer about that.

The church isn’t full by any means. Buck knows that most of the people present aren’t religious at all – his parents included – and some guests will be there for the get-together later and not for this rather formal part of the day.

Maddie and Chim are sitting with Margaret and Phillip, of course. Jee has stayed home, with Josh of all people, who’s to join them later.

‘I fail to see how stepping foot in a church would be good for me,’ the man had said when Buck had invited him. ‘I’d risk tainting the place with my gay flamboyance’ he’d added, and Eddie had snorted at that.

Isabel and Pepa are sitting up front too, keeping three chairs free for them.

Bobby, Athena and Harry are next to them. Harry’s come for New Year’s at his mom’s, and also to see the new house. May will be there in a few days, and sent Buck – or rather Artie – a lovely card to apologize for missing the day.

Hen, Karen and the kids are sitting behind them, and Karen keeps stealing glances at Buck’s parents, as if Margaret is about to implode in the presence of lesbian wives. But Buck knows that Hen is very spiritual, even if she doesn’t practice as much as she did before. That, at least, would shut his mom up in case she thinks of saying something uncouth.

To his surprise, Ravi is here too. It’s certainly his first time in a Catholic church, because he’s looking around like this is a particularly interesting piece of architecture and not a totally normal neighbourhood church. Hardly worthy of Rome, he’s sure.

Buck notices the guests before he notices the Priest. Eddie’s Priest.

He’s waiting for them near the entrance, clad in seriously ridiculous robes.

He’s around their age, as Eddie had mentioned. Spiky blonde hair, stubble. Kind eyes, a nice smile.

Buck hates him on sight.

Hates him even more when he grins upon seeing Eddie, and shakes hands with him enthusiastically.

“Nice to see you all,” he greets in a melodious voice that grates on Buck’s nerves. “You must be Christopher,” he adds, shaking hands with Chris too.

The teenager stands straighter. “I’m the Godfather.”

“Yes, I’ve been informed. Congratulations.” Damn, that fucking Priest is nice. “You can go join your family, Christopher. Your moment will come a bit further down the line.” He winks, and Chris doesn’t even roll his eyes.

Buck loathes this guy.

“Hi. It’s really nice to finally meet you, Mr Buckley.”

Any other day, Buck would have said ‘Call me Buck’. Not now. No, now, he can remain Mr Buckley.

“Likewise,” he says though he doesn’t mean it at all.

Eddie raises a brow, and Buck knows he knows. He’s not embarrassed.

“And this is Miss Artemis.” The Priest’s smile widens, softens too. “She is beautiful, Mr Buckley.”

“Thanks.”

“Ready? I promise I trimmed the ceremony as much as possible.” The Priest turns to lead them to the front of the church, and Eddie follows after hurriedly signing himself with a bit of water that’s apparently left at the door of these kinds of edifices. “Some christenings can last five hours, if you can imagine. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve got more important things to do with my days.”

His attempt at a joke falls flat.

The cooler this man appears, the more Buck wants to wring his neck.

Eddie’s hand suddenly pressing into the small of his back doesn’t help the feeling at all.

Since Christmas and his…breakdown – there really isn’t any other word for it – Buck’s kept clear of Maddie, somehow. Granted, it’s been four days since, but he feels so ashamed of himself for having hurt and scared her that he feels almost undeserving of the smile she sends his way when he walks past her with Artie in his arms.

Artie, wide-eyed and staring at the church ceiling as if it’s holding the mysteries of the world – it’s a non-descript, almost boring golden wood, but she’s entranced – is quiet and calm, and he really hopes she keeps that way for the whole duration of this thing.

Not that she’s a fussy baby on a bad day, but you never know.

Father Brian has walked up to the altar, Buck supposes, and seems ready to start when the clack of heels already interrupt him.

Buck turns around, and there, twenty-four minutes late because of course, is Natalia.

Who promised to come, who’s no stranger to places of cult of any kind, and who’s beaming. Her few weeks at that spa have done wonders, Buck knows. Lyle’s presence too, though she won’t admit it. She’s radiant, in other words, and feebly apologizes for her tardiness before flopping down beside Ravi, who looks like he’s just seen Venus herself enter the church. Buck muffles a chuckle, and turns back to the Priest.

Catholic rites are infinitely boring, he quickly decides. Between pointless ‘Amen’s every two seconds, signings every thirty seconds – Isabel helps him to know when he’s supposed to sign himself, thankfully – and prayers that he doesn’t understand half of because of the loud echo of the place, Buck is…well…he can’t see himself coming here every Sunday, that’s for sure.

That is to say, when his mind does not go from the dinner party later to the weird paintings at the far end that looks like they glow, he pays attention to what the Father says, and…it’s nice, he supposes. The words, the good wishes, the welcoming of Artemis in the community.

Father Brian promises her to be protected all her life, to be loved by more than just her family, and it almost looks like the giving of gifts in Sleeping Beauty.

Then, his mind drifts again, and he pictures the Priest with a flurry of petticoats, tiny wings on his back. Chris elbows him hard in the ribs when he starts quietly laughing.

Right.

Pay attention, Buckley.

And, well, if he doesn’t pay attention to the words anymore, he can at least see the pride in Isabel and Bobby’s face, the happiness there too, because Buck is indulging in their belief, paying homage to what’s important to them too. He feels proud of himself, then.

Even if he can’t focus on the damn words.

At one point, Brian gestures Buck up to the baptismal font – the name Eddie gave the brass basin-like thing that stands now in the middle of the small stage – and he goes, Artie gleefully cooing in his arms.

Christopher joins them. Brian holds out a tall candle with the Virgin Mary on it – her, Buck recognizes easily – and both Buck and Chris are told to hold onto it.

This time, the words of prayer are some kind of promise, an oath that Christopher makes. He pledges to protect Artemis in the event that Buck cannot do it himself; promises to love her and dote on her, to teach her the ways of the Lord. At that Chris does scrunch up his nose, and Father Brian chuckles, as do several other people in the pews.

“I know,” the man adds a bit lower, “but I’m kind of obligated to say it.”

Chris huffs, shrugs and promises to do all that, before leaning down to kiss Artie on the head. She coos happily, as she always does when her brother is close. Buck feels his heart swell in his chest.

Then, it’s time to wet poor Artie’s head with holy water.

She…does not like it.

Her annoyed grunts and cries echo loudly in the church, and Buck feels minutely ashamed when he sees his mother’s disapproving eyes on him. It doesn’t last, though, because once he’s back at his chair, Eddie takes Artie from him and starts rocking her as he always does when she fusses.

Buck counts thirteen seconds before she’s silent and happy again, albeit a bit damp on her lovely dark curls.

He resists the urge to send his mother a smug look. But only just.

“Then, in the Light of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I present to you Artemis Madeline Buckley.” Everyone springs to their feet, and Buck hears Maddie’s quiet gasp.

They share a look, and she’s smiling, proud, oozing love.

He feels forgiven. Maybe.

(Not that giving Artie that middle name was a way to placate his sister. It’s been his intention all along, and he hopes Maddie knows it.)

Everyone heads up to Bobby and Athena’s after. Obviously, so close to their big move, neither Buck nor Eddie had the motivation – or, indeed, the cutlery and chairs – to host the party in South Bedford.

Also obviously, his mother has something to say about that as soon as the Buckleys arrive at the new Grant-Nash residence.

“You could have at least hosted.”

Buck, who’d been watching Eddie play with Artie in the entryway by means of lifting her above his head and then lowering her belly towards him so he can blow raspberries and make her laugh, frowns.

He can’t find something to say, considering these words are also the first his mom has directed at him today.

Phillip, who’s holding onto her shoulder, clears his throat awkwardly before smiling as uncomfortably. “Hello, Buck. It was lovely celebration.”

“You wouldn’t know that, Phillip. We’ve never gone to one of those before. I still don’t understand why we went today.”

He purses his lips. “Because, Margaret, it was the christening of our granddaughter. And it was lovely, Buck. That Priest managed to make the whole thing rather palatable. No easy feat.”

Buck’s throat is clogged. He doesn’t know how to process what’s happening right now. His mother being dismissive and judgmental is nothing new, really. His father being supportive of him, however, is a novelty.

Error 404. Brain not found.

“Well,” Phillip adds after it’s become clear Buck won’t answer, “can we go meet the little treasure?”

Buck smiles, clears his throat too. “Of course. Come with me.”

He leads his parents inside, greets everyone properly – there is something to be said about receiving hugs from Bobby, Athena and Isabel, and not his own parents – and then stops in front of Maddie, who’s the one holding Artie right now.

She looks absolutely radiant.

She beams at her brother, and leans in to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she breathes, barely audible.

He grins back before moving a bit so their parents can join the conversation.

He doesn’t miss the way Maddie tenses minutely.

“Mom, Dad, this is Artemis. Artie.”

The baby is currently suckling on the hem of her sleeve – she has been doing that for the past few days, maybe Buck should find her binky in her bag – and completely uninterested by whatever is happening around her.

Margaret, as expected, coos and awws. “Oh she is delightful. Maddie, she has your nose!”

Maddie chokes on her saliva, her gaze hardening. “She has Evan’s nose, yes,” she corrects. “And his curls, too. And,” she smiles a little, taking Artie’s hand and lifting her arm to show the birthmark near her elbow, visible through the thin layer of lace, “she even has his birthmark.”

Margaret makes a face. “No matter. She can get it erased later.” She coos again, addressing Artie, who stares at her as if she’s a puzzling creature.

Phillip stands close to Buck. Buck, who feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out.

His mother, comparing Artie to her aunt. Saying her birthmark should be erased.

Fuck.

“She truly is beautiful, Buck, well done,” his father says after a while, a softness to his voice that Buck only heard directed at Jee-Yun. “She seems to be well-behaved too. That’s also a trait she got from you.”

Buck’s eyes fly to his father, but he’s still staring at his granddaughter. His parents never talk about him as a baby. Never.

But Phillip does, right then. “You were always perfectly calm, even when prodded and pricked as you were at the hospital. That was a change after the first two, who were professional fussers,” he adds in a soft laugh.

Buck is stunned.

His father is mentioning Daniel.

He’s…healing?

Buck swallows the lump in his throat, and smiles a bit. “She’s also very curious, and she loves music. Christopher likes to play her something when she’s in her pen. To try and identify what she prefers. She’s been obsessed with Madonna, lately.”

Phillip chuckles. “Just like her auntie.”

Buck feels something shy bloom in his chest.

Is it possible that his relationship with his father could be mended? That they can…heal? Together? That they can have normal conversations, now?

He’s…yeah, stunned comes back to mind.

But it’s all broken when Artie lets out an annoyed cry. Apparently, she’s had enough of Margaret playing with her ‘teeny toes and teeny fingers’, and would like to be left alone, thank you very much.

Buck takes a step forward, to take his daughter away, but Bobby gets there first.

“There there, Miss Grumpy,” he coos as he gently takes her from Maddie and places her in his arms in her usual sitting position. One day, Buck will call Bobby Artie’s personal throne, if he keeps that up. “Come cook with Pops, there’s a good girl.” He smiles at Buck and nods politely at his parents before going to the kitchen, where it’s no doubt quieter.

Margaret purses her lips again. “She was perfectly alright right here.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to see Artemis again later, Meg,” Phillip says with a comforting – or placating – hand on her shoulder again. “She’s no doubt tired of all this noise.” Then, he pulls her away from their children and towards the seats in the living-room. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

Buck watches them leave, still reeling from his short conversation with his father.

He’s quickly distracted by the arrival of his third most precious family member.

“Unka Buck, look! I paints Josh’s nails!” Jee-Yun is pulling said Josh away from the entrance hall, his hand outstretched in front of him and showcasing the appalling layers of neon colours she applied there. Sometimes more on the finger than the nail, too.

He laughs. “Very artistic, Jee, you are a pro.” He swoops her in his arms to smother her in kisses.

“Yes, very sexy, Josh,” Maddie teases. “You’ll get a boyfriend in no time with those nails.”

“F you, Maddie Han,” the man hisses back but with no bite. He then plants a kiss on her cheek. “Now, where’s Diaz? He promised me one of his margaritas if I showed up.”

“He’s talking with his grandmother and Father Brian, over there, see?”

Josh nods and heads there immediately.

Father Brian.

Right. Apparently, it’s customary and polite to invite the officiant to the christening party.

But seeing him there, not wearing his stupid robes anymore but instead a normal combination of jeans and black shirt, having a laugh with Eddie, Buck feels very tempted to throw him out.

It takes him a staggering twenty minutes to realise that Christopher is nowhere to be seen. Denny, Harry and Mara have of course quickly absconded to Harry’s bedroom to play together, but Chris isn’t with them.

He’s not with his father, great-aunt and great-grandmother either, which would be the next most logical thing.

Buck, panicking a bit, therefore starts looking for him everywhere.

He finds him, of all places, in Artie’s bedroom, sitting on the little stool, tucked up in a corner. Looking miserable.

Which, of course, makes alarm bells ring in Buck’s mind. He closes the door behind himself and goes to kneel at Chris’s feet. “Chris? What’s going on? Is it those boys from Texas again? Are you being bullied again?”

Christopher shakes his head, Buck feels relieved for all of two seconds, because even if it’s not that, Chris is upset, and that won’t do.

“Then what is it, bud? You know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s stupid,” the teen says through gritted teeth.

“Nothing you’re feeling can ever be stupid, Christopher. Come on, tell me,” he says as he sits properly on the floor to spare his poor knees.

Chris ignores the prompt for a long moment, and avoids Buck’s gaze too.

Then, he takes a deep breath, and it rushes out of him so quickly Buck nearly doesn’t understand a word. “It’s just that Artie has your name and I don’t and so we’re siblings but no one knows because we don’t have the same last name.”

Buck’s eyes widen. “Uh… You—Chris, you…” He takes a deep breath too, to try and calm his heart down a bit. “You’d want Artie and you to have the same last name?”

“Yeah,” the boy answers in a whisper that sounds ashamed. “I know, it’s stupid. It’s just…how can we be family if all of us have a different name?”

Buck is tempted to tell him that, even though they’re going to live together, and even though Chris and Artie will be in every way that matters siblings; he and Eddie aren’t in any way going to share a last name any time soon. Even if the mere thought of it makes his heart flutter dangerously in his chest.

Instead, he croaks out “Well, if that’s what you feel, Chris… We’ll talk about it with your dad. Find a solution. If you want.”

“I want,” the words have a finality to them, like they should be accompanied by ‘Duh’.

Buck presses a hand to Chris’s knee. “Thanks for telling me. Now, are you going to join the party? Or, at least, your friends in Harry’s room? I heard something about a race track.”

Chris looks up. “Harry’s showing them the track he made in Minecraft? Without me?”

“You can catch them and make him pay for it,” Buck winks.

Chris rolls his eyes, but does get up, wobbling a bit after having his knees bent for so long. “Thanks, Papa.”

“Always, bud.”

Chris leaves him sitting there on the floor of his daughter’s bedroom, and Buck needs a minute.

Christopher wants him and Artie to share a name.

What could possibly be more monumental???

Chapter Text

Buck [Today, 10:12 am]

evthg ok?

Eddie [Today, 10:12 am]

Everything’s fine. Artie is playing in her pen.

Will you please enjoy your day out with Nat?

We’ll be fine.

Buck sighs, clicks off his phone and pockets it again.

Nat, in front of him in the cue for their coffee orders, sends him a knowing smile. “Having trouble letting go? How unlike you, Buckley.”

“Ha ha,” he snarks. “It’s the first time I’m away from Artie since she was born. I’m entitled to nerves.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the one who carried her and gave birth to her. A real mother hen,” she teases, then turns to take their order from the tired-looking barista.

They go find a table in the corner of the coffee-shop, and Nat immediately starts sipping on her caramel-spiced-latte.

Buck looks at her, and sees the small changes in her since Artie was born.

First, she walks differently. It’s small, barely there, but the width of her hips changed slightly, and with it, her gait. She also has bigger breasts, if he’s not mistaken, though he hasn’t seen said breasts in a year, now, so he can’t be sure and he doesn’t feel like asking, either. And then, there’s the slight roundness lingering in her cheeks.

All of that topped by the fact that she cut her hair shorter. It’s still curly and lovely, but it’s shorn in an asymmetric bob that suits her. Anything would suit Natalia, anyway, in Buck’s opinion.

“You’re staring,” she comments a moment later.

“I am,” he admits. “You’ve changed a bit, yet not at all.”

She chuckles. “I’ve got you to thank for this,” she gestures at her chest. “The upgrade in trouser-size, though, I could have done without.”

“You’re lovely anyway,” he smiles.

“Would you say that even if I hadn’t given birth to your daughter?”

“I would. You’re gorgeous.”

“Down, boy,” she chuckles again. “Been there, done that. And as much as that,” she sizes him up teasingly, “was very good, we’re both emotionally unavailable for a repeat performance.”

Buck’s eyes widen. He ignores her implication, and instead grabs onto the small bit of information hidden there. “Are you and Lyle--?”

Nat grins. “Yeah. Kind of. He still lives far away, but…we’re giving this a go. He doesn’t mind the…size changes.”

“As he should.” Buck feels a swirl of protectiveness rise in him. Somehow, the feelings he once held for Natalia – vaguely romantic, since he was never truly in love with her – morphed into fraternal territory. He feels the urge to give Lyle the shovel talk.

Natalia laughs again. “You know he’s scared of you? Didn’t want to come with me to Artemis’s christening because he fears that you’d get possessive over me. Your baby mama.”

“Not possessive,” Buck amends. “Protective.”

She smiles softly. “You’re a big cuddly bear anyway. You’d glare at him but wouldn’t be able to lift a hand against him.” Her stare turns mischievous. “Now, Eddie, on the other hand…”

Buck laughs. “Oh, Eddie totally would sucker punch him.”

They laugh together and drink their coffees in teasing, pleasing, easy silence.

Buck is grateful for this ‘day off’ that Nat offered. He’s missed her, he’s not afraid to admit it.

After their coffee date, they both head to the mall for some mindless perusing. Nat has to steer Buck away from baby clothes more often than not – ‘Your girl already has more clothes than she needs, let your wallet live a little’ – and she enrols him in the changing rooms to give his opinion on several dresses she tries on.

The straight cut of some don’t fit her hips anymore, making her frustrated, so Buck buys her her favourite flared and flowery one to lift her mood.

After some tacos for lunch, they then head to Nat’s appointment of the day: the tattoo parlour.

At first, when she’d told Buck about it, he’d been surprised, because Natalia was never someone to be obsessed with getting inked. But she said that Artie’s birth was a turning point in her life, and that she wanted to have something to carry with her to symbolize death and rebirth, the two major threads in the tapestry of her life. Her words, not his.

Nat has chosen a lovely blend of daisies and daffodils to be inked on her shoulder-blade.

The tattoo artist is small, female-presenting and sporting quite the impressive array of flowers on their body, covering their arms and climbing up their neck; but it’s not too much. It’s artistic. Buck loves it.

Nat disrobes and lays face down on the table, and Janice starts tattooing her free-hand. Buck loves to watch them work. It’s soothing, and captivating enough that his mind doesn’t wander too much.

The lines take about forty minutes to trace; the colour a mere fifteen to apply. When it’s done, Nat’s skin is angry and swollen, but the tattoo is beautiful. The soothing cream Janice lathers on it calms the itch and burn, and also help the skin settle, Buck notices.

When Natalia is putting her shirt back on, he looks at the tiny tattoo artist. “Uh…have you got a free slot any time soon?”

Janice looks at him, a smile pulling at their lips. “Got a sudden urge to get inked?”

He nods with an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, I, uh… I just had a baby.” Well, not him, obviously, but Janice thankfully doesn’t comment on his turn of phrase.

“An important milestone.” They stare at him. “Anything you’d like in particular?”

“Which flower symbolizes joy?”

“The geranium.” They keep staring at him, as if trying to figure out if this is an impulse or a more thought-of decision. “Are you sure you’d like to get this tattooed?”

“Can you sketch one – or two,” he adds after thinking about Christopher, “and I can tell you if I like it or not?”

Janice purses their lips, considering, then, they turn to a tablet, switch it on, and start sketching on it, quickly, as if…it’s their job.

In less than a minute, two geraniums appear on the screen in fine lines. Delicate, elegant. Simple.

“You’re a big guy,” Janice explains, “if I use too bold lines, it’ll make you too intimidating.”

“I love it,” Buck breathes with a smile.

Nat, who’s now fully-dressed again, looks at the screen too. “It’s lovely. Where are you getting it?”

Buck frowns, especially when he notices that Janice is switching needles on their tattoo gun, and cleaning their station, preparing for another client. “Uh…are we…doing this now?”

Janice looks up at him, smirking. “I thought you were sure?”

“I am…” He clears his throat and grabs the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. “Right shoulder, please.”

“In or out?” Front or back, they mean, he knows.

“In.” He settles on the seat, heart beating fast, but lips spreading into a wide grin.

He’s getting his family, his kids into his skin.

(He’ll find something for Eddie later.)

It’s New Year’s Eve.

While most people around the planet are celebrating big – within their family units, with friends or even strangers – Buck is spending it quietly at home, surrounded by his three favourite people in the world.

They’re moving in three days’ time, so obviously, the party is stripped down, as is the living-room, almost bare now that all decorations have been boxed up.

Eddie decided to make enchiladas, easy to pick and eat in front of the television, and they make it some sort of apéritif spread, with chips, carrots sticks, hot hors-d’oeuvres, dips. Christopher loves it.

They err on the tv channels, switching between the yearly rewatch of The Holiday – Buck is not ashamed to say it’s one of his favourite holiday movies ever – and some mindless blooper-centred shows; before settling on a quiz.

It’s one of those quizzes that roam the entirety of what’s happened the past year, from politics to songs to movies to sports. Eddie is powerless in the face of Chris and Buck loving to shout out the answers.

Obviously, Chris is more versed in everything related to Tik-Tok, trends and celebrities.

Eddie pipes up about some major worldwide events and movies.

Buck is very bad at music, it turns out.

“It’s Sabrina Carpenter!” Chris admonishes when the host asks which pop-icon sang ‘Espresso’, that damned song that’s been all over the radio for months.

Buck raises his hands in apology. “Sorry, bud. You know I don’t listen much to modern music.”

“Apart from Taylor Swift and that Italian rock band, you mean?” Eddie teases.

Buck glares. “There’s nothing wrong with being a Swiftie, Mr I-listen-to-the-same-bands-as-when-I-was-fifteen.”

Eddie shakes his head, hiding laughter.

Two minutes later, he shouts out ‘Linkin Park!’ when the host asks which famous nu-metal band have a new female singer and released a new album this year.

Eddie loves Linkin Park.

Chris is laughing hard. “They can’t hear you, Dad.”

Eddie reaches out to mess his son’s hair. “Pot, kettle. You shouted ‘Hands on’ at the screen ten minutes ago yourself, Mister.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Whatever…”

Artemis chooses that moment to start fussing a bit. She’s just had her bottle, so she can’t be hungry, and it’s not colic. Buck frowns, wondering what’s wrong, but Eddie scoops her up from her playpen and smooches her cheeks.

“Sorry, princesa, are we making too much noise?” Artie coos, something between ‘argh’ and laughter. “My apologies.” He chuckles at her, lifting her in the air as he loves doing, just as a new song starts on the telly behind him.

Chris mutters the title – something from Wicked, apparently – but Buck is not paying attention.

Eddie is dancing. With Artie in his arms.

He’s brought her closer to his chest and has taken her right hand in his left, as if they’re ballroom dancing. He’s swaying from side to side, then twirling on himself, and Artie loves it. She giggles, the sound more interesting than whatever song is playing.

Chris nudges Buck pointedly, and when Buck tears his eyes away, the teenager mimes taking a photo.

Oh. Yeah. Good idea.

He struggles with his phone a moment, and snaps a few candids of Eddie and Artie dancing on New Year’s Eve.

One of those photos, he notices when he checks them later, has Eddie staring right at the camera with a bright and blinding smile, and softness in his eyes that has Buck’s skin break in goosebumps.

All of them are fast asleep as midnight rolls in. Not that Buck expected a kiss, either, apart maybe from one from his daughter – Artie likes to munch on his hair, which is gross but also cute.

He wakes up around 1 am, when Artemis demands a change; and he takes the opportunity to shoo Chris to bed, lest he get a crick in the neck, which isn’t good for him. Eddie stirs on the couch too, and when Artie is swaddled back into a clean diaper, he closes the bedroom door and climbs into bed.

Buck watches him for a minute, before kissing Artie goodnight and joining him under the covers.

“Happy New Year, Eds,” he breathes into the darkness.

“Happy New Year, Buck,” Eddie answers, the warmth of his breath caressing Buck’s cheek.

Hopefully, 2025 is going to be a good one.

Breakfast – or brunch, rather – is spent sleepily at the dining table while Artie is napping in the bedroom. Her quiet tiny snores are echoing through the monitor, breaking the silence in the kitchen.

Until…

“Hey, Christopher,” Eddie tries to catch his son’s attention, and Chris looks up from his cereal bowl. “I wanted to talk to you about something. And you,” he adds, looking at Buck.

Buck raises a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles. “Now that the new year has started, I wanted to talk about something you,” he points at Buck, “mentioned to me a few days ago.” Buck frowns again, but Eddie turns back to Chris. “You want to share a name with your sister, mijo?”

Chris perks up at that. “Yeah?! Do you—Does it upset you?”

Buck bites his lip. He did wonder about that too. Would Eddie mind that his son basically wants someone else’s name?

But Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, it doesn’t. Besides, Buckley-Diaz has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Buck’s heart stops. It stops.

What. The. Effing. Fuck?

How can Eddie say that so casually, like it doesn’t make fireworks burst in Buck’s brain, the implication of what those names put together could be?

That Buckley-Diaz could be a name that he, that Eddie, could both bear?

That they’d--

No, breathe, stop it, he doesn’t mean it like that.

“Why not Diaz-Buckley?” Chris chuckles back.

Eddie scrunches his nose. “Doesn’t sound as good.”

Chris nods sagely, as if Buck isn’t losing his mind in the next chair over.

“So,” Eddie continues, also ignoring Buck’s turmoil, “I wondered…” he bites his lip and finally looks at Buck, who looks back, head a fuzzy buzzing of bees, heart beating a conga, “Buck? You’re already Chris’s legal guardian but… What would you say to becoming his dad?”

That’s it. Buck is officially dying.

“Wh-what?” he croaks.

Chris doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the guardian thing, too, which means he’s known for a while, probably, and isn’t that also crazy?

“Chris wants to share Artie’s surname. Buckley. The only way he can is if you adopt him. I looked it up.”

“You…” he clears his throat, tries to make his voice sound less like he’s swallowed glass, “you want me to adopt your son?”

“Yeah… You’re already his father in all but name. We’ve talked about this before. We live together, you take care of Chris as much as I do, he calls you ‘Papa’. Only need to make it official.”

Eddie is staring at him, unblinking, like this is all absolutely normal, like this isn’t an earth-shattering conversation to have on New Year’s Day.

Chris turns to him. “Will you? Papa? Will you adopt me? Would you even like to?”

Buck looks at the kid he’s known for nearly eight years now and has loved for just as long. He thinks about his new tattoo and the two flowers now etched into his very skin. “Of course I’d like to be your father for real, bud. But—” he looks at Eddie, “wouldn’t that be…confusing? For…authorities?”

Eddie frowns. “Why would it be? What we do as a family doesn’t concern anyone else.”

Buck nods dazedly. Eddie is right, of course, but everyone is already looking at them as a couple, it would probably get worse if he adopts Chris…

Then, he thinks ‘Why should it bother you?’ because, honestly, Eddie is right. Fuck everyone else and their judgement.

Fuck Margaret Buckley, who thinks he’s not responsible enough to be a good dad.

Fuck Helena Diaz, who thinks two men living together is wrong and against nature.

Fuck Ramon Diaz, who thinks his son is a failure and everything he does a bigger failure still. Including living with his best friend.

Buck looks at Chris, and reaches to grab his hand. “I’d be honoured to adopt you, Christopher.” Chris beams, wide and toothy, looking like the seven-year-old he once was, happy and carefree. “On one condition,” he adds, turning to Eddie.

The man’s face falls a bit.

Buck grins. “If you adopt Artemis. Then, our kids will really have the same name.”

The look Eddie Diaz sends him then…yeah…if he wasn’t already dead, it’d have finished him off…

Chapter Text

On the morning of the 3^rd January, Buck and Eddie find themselves awake way before dawn. Not even because of Artemis, as she is still peacefully asleep in her cot; but because of the excitement and trepidation of the day of the move.

At 6 am, they’ve already packed what little of their clothes was left in the bedroom – Eddie has to sit on the suitcase to close it, and Buck hides his laughter.

At 6:30, they’ve emptied the fridge – its meagre contents placed in an ice-box for the day – and Buck has thoroughly cleaned it before switching it off.

At 7, they’ve stripped the couch down of the last cushions, stuffed in a trash bag for the move, and pushed the relevant furniture closer to the bay doors of the garden, the only door it’ll all go through.

At 7:30, Christopher ambles out of his room, grumbling about noise and annoying dads. Buck serves him a breakfast of champions – pancakes, oatmeal and orange juice – and it immediately softens him up.

At 8, Chris and Eddie are packing up the last of Chris’s bedroom, when there’s a knock on the door.

Buck expects his sister, since she and Chim have promised to be there bright and early to help.

He does not expect the whole 118 plus some extras.

Bobby, Athena, Harry and May come through the door, the latter holding several bags of what looks like clothes as she grins up at Buck and goes for a hug.

He hasn’t seen her in months, because of college, and he twirls her in his arms for a second, after which she demands to be let down.

“What’s all this?” he asks, just as Maddie, Chim and Jee come in too.

May smirks, holds the bags aloft. “Those are for my niece.” Ah. Well. Buck is grateful to Natalia for telling him not to buy anything new when they went out a couple days ago. What May has bought Artie will surely fill an entire wardrobe, if his estimation is correct.

“May has offered to look after the kids while we move,” Maddie offers, greeting Hen, Karen, Denny and Mara who now crowd the living-room too.

Chris and Eddie come out of the bedroom then, eyes widening when they see their entire found family gathered there.

Hugs are given, and the chatter, though not extremely loud, wakes Artie up.

“I’ve got her,” Bobby hurries to say, and he nearly skips to get his granddaughter.

May and Athena share a look. “Wow, he really is hooked, huh?” May tells her mom, who laughs.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, baby,” Athena answers. But she, too, melts at the sight of a brightly-risen Artemis, with her cross face and mussed curls.

Buck is busy feeling overwhelmed when there’s a honk up front.

He would worry about the neighbours, but doesn’t. Instead, he goes to see what the fuss is about.

And there, amidst all the extra cars in front of the house, is a U-haul. And driving it, is Ravi.

Everyone seriously came to help, huh?

May stuffs the younger kids – Mara, Jee-Yun and of course, Artemis – into Bobby’s car, borrowing Buck’s car seat for the day. She’s keeping them at the Grant-Nash residence, since Artie has a bedroom there fully stocked with whatever she might need; and will join them all again when the move is over and done with.

Buck feels a bit of a pang in his stomach while he watches the car drive away, and Eddie’s hand on his shoulder is the only thing stopping him from running after it.

“She’ll be alright. May has experience with babies, she knows what to do.”

“I know,” Buck sighs, “but I can’t help but feel like it’s the last time I see her every time she leaves my sight.”

Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “I’d say it’ll pass, but I’m like that with Chris still.” He turns Buck around, and his smile is soft. “Come on, or we’ll be late for the sign-off.”

They are meeting the real estate agent to officially buy the new house and they will be late if Buck doesn’t get a move on.

He goes back inside to grab his jacket and shoes, and sees that everyone is already sort of planning a battle.

Athena is pointing at the pile of boxes in the living-room while Bobby nods sagely; Hen and Karen are gesturing towards the hallway leading into the bedrooms; Chim is sitting on the couch with Christopher; Maddie shaking her head at them; Denny and Harry are on the back porch talking; and Ravi is eyeing the tv-set and consoles that haven’t been packed yet.

Buck is tempted to give them all directions. But they’re gonna be late.

He has to trust that Athena has it covered.

Which he tells her as they leave. “We should be back in an hour, more or less. Athena, you’re in charge.”

She sends him a smug look, and comes to kiss his cheek.

“We’ll be waiting for you with everything packed up.” She does the same to Eddie, who seems surprised to receive a kiss, and then, she shoos them out the door.

Before he climbs into the Jeep to drive them to the clerk’s office, Buck shares a look with Eddie, equally stressed and excited.

They don’t need words to explain what they feel.

In a few dozen minutes, they’re gonna own a house. Together.

Buck takes a deep breath to try and calm his raging heart before turning the ignition.

The whole thing takes about an hour. The current owner of the house is FaceTiming the clerk’s office – he’s a man around his sixties who apparently moved to a sunny setting, because there are palm trees behind him in the sunlight – and once they all read the contract of ownership, all parties sign on their end of the call.

Buck stares at Eddie’s and his signatures side by side for longer than he probably should, but he can’t help but think about another situation where they could sign an important paper together. It makes him choke a bit.

“Congratulations to you both,” the estate agent says with a grin when the call is over and they officially own a house together.

Eddie claps Buck on the shoulder, his smile wide and happy. “Thank you.”

“Here’s for you!” he hands them a number of keys, and explains their function. There are doubles, but there’s a different key for the front door, the garage door, the mailbox, and the garden shed. All rather straightforward, except Buck isn’t really paying attention at all.

Thankfully, Eddie is more practical, and takes the matter into his own capable hands. He takes the keys and slides them into Buck’s jacket’s pocket. “Are you following us back to get the keys to the old house?”

Right. The old house. Because South Bedford is no longer their home. Because they bought a new house together. The two of them. Together.

“Yeah. We also have to check the electricity and water meters, for the next owners.”

Eddie’s house is to be sold in a week’s time. The buyers are moving back from Maine, so it’ll take them a bit longer to get all their things back to California.

They say their goodbyes and thanks to the clerk and his secretary, Buck cradles the documents proving he – and Eddie­ – have just bought a house, and this time, it’s Eddie who takes the wheel to go back.

He’s got a knowing smile on his lips, and he looks just…elated.

“2025 starts really great, doesn’t it?”

Buck grumbles his assent, the folder still pressed to his chest.

Eddie doesn’t comment.

The agent – Daryl – follows them back, and they have to try and find a parking spot in-between all of the cars that are now filled with their various belongings. There’s one more car up front, a rental that Buck doesn’t recognize.

Once he’s inside, he realises why, and his throat clogs up a bit.

His father is here.

The living-room is empty, as is the kitchen and, he supposes, the rest of the house. Karen is finishing cleaning the kitchen while talking with Athena; and Bobby is talking with Phillip, a broom in hand, as if he’s just finished sweeping the place.

Eddie greets Buck’s father with a handshake before pulling Daryl towards the utility closet and the various meters.

“Dad?” Buck approaches, a bit sheepish, “what are you doing here?”

Phillip turns to him and smiles, though it’s unsure, as if he’s worried about his reaction. “I told you I wanted to help with the move. Is it done?” he gestures to the papers Buck is still protecting fiercely.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s done.”

“Your first home, it’s a big step!” Phillip is grinning, now, it’s a bit surreal. “Congratulations, Buck.” He makes an aborted move, as if wondering whether he can shake his son’s hand, or maybe hug him, which they never do.

Instead, he kind of pushes Bobby towards him, and Bobby does hug him, tight.

Soon, everyone is congratulating him – and Eddie, when he returns with the agent – and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Alright,” Athena booms a moment later, “phase one is done. Now, everyone to their cars, we’re heading to the new house! Buck, Eddie, we’ll leave you to check everything. Harry! Denny! We’re leaving!” she then shouts towards the garden, where the three teenagers were sitting and watching stuff on Harry’s phone.

Everyone files out of the house, leaving it eerily empty, every sound echoing around the space.

Buck feels weirdly emotional. It’s true that this is a new start, that he’s moving to a better space for him and his family, but…

But this house is where he got to know Eddie, got to truly fall in love with him.

This kitchen is where he taught Christopher to make brownies for school.

This dining-room is where he helped Christopher with his homework, built a volcano for his science project, looked for houses with Eddie.

This bedroom is where Artemis slept from the time she was born, pretty much. Where she giggled for the first time when he blew raspberries on her tiny feet.

This other bedroom is where he read Chris bedtime stories, where he got comforted by a nine-year-old when Eddie got shot.

This living-room and its couch are where Buck spent his first peaceful night after being struck by lightning.

This house is filled with memories.

He feels an arm gently circle his waist, and Eddie brings him into a side-hug, his own eyes a bit misty.

Chris is staring into his old bedroom, face unreadable.

“Those memories will stay with us,” Eddie whispers. “We’ll make new ones.”

Buck nods, chest heavy as he touches the kitchen counters for the last time.

It’s like he’s saying goodbye to an old friend.

He forces himself to turn away after a while, and when they hand Daryl their copies of the keys, and he closes the door on the house on South Bedford Street for the last time, he tries not to cry.

All three of them climb into the Jeep, silent, and Christopher looks back once before they all look forward.

Towards their new home, their new life.

Buck doesn’t cry. On the outside.

South Sherbourne Drive is one of those streets neighbouring Eddie’s that Buck maybe drove through once or twice at most trying to find somewhere to park before all this. Even then, he would not have recognized anything at all apart from the tall tree in someone’s garden that he could see from Eddie’s former living-room window.

Their new house is, as promised before, a mere six minutes’ drive from the old one.

Everyone is already parking up front, but they left the drive right in front of the garage door free for Buck’s Jeep. Bobby, who took Eddie’s truck, parked it on the small gravel courtyard that faces the front door.

Buck exits the car and stares at the house that is to be their new home forever. Of course, he’s been here before, with Christopher and to put down some furniture in the same aforementioned garage space. But right now, it looks foreign, almost like he’s seeing it for the first time all over again.

Eddie comes to stand beside him, their shoulders pressing together. “Home,” he says with feeling.

Buck smiles at him but is unable to answer.

“You play conductor, I start unpacking the essentials?”

Buck nods, clears his throat. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Christopher!” Eddie calls, and the teen turns to his dad with a bothered expression, as if he’d hoped to escape helping by hiding somewhere with Denny and Harry. “I’m trusting you to unpack in your room as soon as we bring in your bed and wardrobe.”

Chris groans, rolls his eyes. “Yeah Dad,” he makes the two syllables sound like they’re worth twenty.

It’s then, seeing Bobby standing calmly at the front door, already carrying a heavy box, that Buck realises that he’s got the keys in his pocket.

New keys, for a new life.

The 118 as a whole has always worked pretty well as a unit. Maddie, Athena and Karen move around them easily enough too, and surprisingly, Phillip, which means that the whole process of emptying cars, trunks and U-haul takes a grand total of two hours, after which each box has to be dispatched to its proper room.

Buck has been standing in the middle of the living-room this whole time, and is gesturing around like an orchestra’s director – only missing the stick.

Artie’s stuff is brought to her future bedroom – apart from her cot, of course, which is brought upstairs to the new master suite. Chris takes care of his own stuff with the boys – and Eddie has to smuggle back the consoles no less than four times, because the teens are trying and failing to convince him that those consoles would be better off in Chris’s space.

“Be happy I’m not taking away your computer,” Eddie threatens at one point, and Chris mutters something under his breath, but doesn’t try to smuggle anything ‘illegal’ again.

Maddie, Karen and Bobby are currently unboxing the kitchen stuff, while Hen is taking care of the downstairs bathroom with Eddie. Buck’s dad is arranging his son’s clothes upstairs, from what he can remember.

It’s then that Chimney, who’s helping Buck redistribute the rest of the boxes, comes to him with an offering labelled ‘Eddie’s stuff’.

“Where’s Eddie’s room?” Chim asks, genuinely curious.

Buck turns and eyes the door that should be Eddie’s bedroom. Because they had agreed that Buck would take the master, since he’d been the one to find the house in the first place. Buck had argued – in vain – about the fact that he couldn’t have bought the house without Eddie, but the man would not be swayed.

That being said, apart from a wardrobe and his uncomfortable bed, nothing of Eddie’s has been carried in.

And Buck bites his lip before turning to Chim. “You can… You can…uh… You can bring it upstairs.”

Chim furrows his brow. “Huh?”

Buck avoids his gaze and explains, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, “We’ll be sharing until Artemis goes to sleep in her own space. Eddie insisted. Until she sleeps the night through, at least…”

“Uhuh…” His brother-in-law sounds like he’s on the verge of making some kind of joke, and Buck turns away to look at what Ravi is doing to the television.

“Hey, Ravi, what are you up to?”

Their youngest friend spares him a fleeting glance. “I’m setting up the game consoles. Figured that, since Eddie doesn’t want them in Christopher’s room, that they’d be set up here. And that way, you can occupy yourselves until you have the WIFI installed.”

Right. Because they’re going to have to live without WIFI for three whole days. Torture.

“Uh…thanks, Ravi.”

“Any day, man.”

Buck is preparing to go to the kitchen to see what his sister, Karen and Bobby are doing, when he nearly collides with Karen herself.

She’s got that glint in her eyes that promises mischief, and she pulls on his arm to bring him closer to Eddie’s future bedroom, in a semblance of privacy.

“A little bird has just told me something very interesting,” she starts with a mischievous grin. “Evan Buckley, have you asked Eddie to adopt your daughter?”

He sputters. “Wh-what… Who told you?”

“Eddie himself. He wanted advice about paperwork. Which I can provide, by the way,” she adds with a wink. “So? Care to explain yourself?”

Buck shrugs and tries to downplay the whole thing. “Well, Eddie proposed I adopt Christopher because Chris wants to have the same name as Artie. So I asked Eddie to adopt her back. Then they’ll really share a name.”

Karen giggles, swats him on the arm. “And are you going to pretend that it’s normal behaviour?”

Buck looks away, feeling his cheeks warm up a bit.

Ravi is too close for comfort. Buck feels like he can hear everything. And he doesn’t want him to overhear this. If he does, he’s gonna tell Chim, who’s gonna tell everyone and, more importantly, Maddie.

And Maddie wouldn’t let it go until Buck poured his heart out to her. Possibly amidst tears.

He whispers “I don’t see why you’re pretending it’s not normal. I’ve been coparenting Chris for years, and Eddie has been helping me with Artie since she was born.”

“My point exactly,” Karen answers with that same devious smile. “But I’ll be there with the paperwork in a few days’ time. And maybe, one day soon, I’ll help with some other kind of paperwork.”

He stares at her, gaping like a fish out of its bowl.

She reaches a hand, forces his mouth to close. “I better be Eddie’s best-woman after this, I swear to God…”

She leaves him there, shouting after her wife, and Buck…

Buck plants an innocent smile on his lips when his sister comes to see where he’s at.

He won’t tell her about the double adoption…not yet, anyway…

Not until he convinces himself it’s normal.

Which it is. Right?

Right?

While most of the rooms will need a fresh coat of paint and maybe some new appliances – notably the downstairs bathroom which will need some adjustments for Chris – it’s filled with their furniture and things by the time dinner comes close.

Phillip takes his leave to go back to his wife at the hotel, and Buck thanks his father for his help by hugging him briefly – they’re both too stiff for it to feel normal, but still – and Phillip makes him promise to meet up again with Artemis before the Buckleys head back to Pennsylvania in four days.

May shows up with the children. Mara and Jee are proud to show the makeup they applied on each other under May’s supervision; and Artie is wearing a new pastel yellow dress that is absolutely too cute and that May paired with a bow that’s nearly the size of her entire head.

Buck snatches her from her car seat and peppers her with kisses, because he’s missed her too much for words, and he refuses to let go of her until Eddie demands his own cuddles when Buck and Bobby decide to ‘christen’ the house with a proper meal. They take ownership of the kitchen while the others organise the dining table and chairs, and Hen and Chim produce a bottle of bubbles and chips to congratulate the new home-owners.

The evening is joyful, filling those new walls with the best of vibes. Buck feels like this home is going to be a place of happiness, and he’s already too content for words that he’s got a dining-room big enough to host Thanksgiving next year, if he so wants.

Hosting Thanksgiving. That’d be a first for him.

He suddenly feels more grown-up than ever, and that’s saying a lot, considering he’s a new father.

Maddie and Chim are the first to bail out with a cranky Jee who demands her bed; and Hen and Karen follow soon after, kidnapping Harry for a sleepover when he and Denny refuse to be parted.

Chris is only mildly angry not to be invited: he wants to spend his first night in his new home.

Especially since he’s going to be far away from his dads from now on.

(Buck knows that when he said it he meant that he’ll be able to sneak out to play videogames at night without either he or Eddie realising; but his brain immediately jumped to…less pure activities that could remain unheard by the rest of the house, if performed in the master suite.)

((Nevermind.))

Artie doesn’t care one bit that she’s not in the old house, once she’s asleep in her usual cot next to the bed. The bed, which was Buck’s at the loft. And which is…much more comfortable than Eddie’s.

He’s already under the covers when said Eddie emerges from the ensuite bathroom and turns to the boxes of his stuff facing the door leading to the dressing room. He spares a look with Buck, who feels sheepish.

“Well…since we’re sharing right now… I thought…” he trails off.

Mostly because Eddie has taken a box, pushed the door to the dressing room open with a foot, and is now…unpacking.

In what should be Buck’s dressing room.

But Eddie is unpacking his clothes.

Hanging them next to Buck’s.

Like they belong.

Fuck.

Buck is not sleeping tonight.

Chapter Text

Buck doesn’t sleep well that first night, but neither do Eddie or Chris. The excitement of changing houses was too much, he supposes when, the following day, they all look like warmed-over zombies. Only Artie is unaffected, bless her.

They spend the entire weekend perfecting what unboxing the others have made, and Buck spends half of his Saturday making sure the kitchen is organised to his standards while Eddie shakes his head at him from the living-room – having an open-plan living space isn’t new to him after the loft, but not one this spacious and cosy at the same time.

On their Sunday afternoon, they go shopping for paint, paintbrushes and the like, because Buck wants to offer Artie the nursery she deserves. Chris finds the samples they have chosen what feels like an age ago, and he directs his dads through the shop, stomping with his crutches if one of them gets sidetracked by a piece of equipment they find relevant to their new home.

On Monday morning, Christopher goes back to school as normal.

Buck is still in bed when Eddie drives him, but Artemis was still sleeping too, so when he wakes up, it’s to the feeling of a tiny hand smashed on his face, and cute coos next to his ear.

He opens his eyes, and realises that Eddie placed Artemis on the bed next to him. And that Eddie himself, clad in his usual pair of jeans and henley, is lying on top of the covers, watching them both.

Even half-asleep and even with his sight blurry, Buck can see the affection pouring out of the man as he looks at Artie and Buck together. The little princess is still in her jammies, which means she overslept just like her dad, and Eddie is running his finger down her adorable tummy that both of them can’t help but kiss all over when changing her.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” Eddie nearly purrs.

In their new master bedroom – Buck’s master bedroom, he should say – there are three windows total, including a sky light that bathes the bed in the soft rays of the morning sun.

Eddie looks angelic in that light.

Buck stares, transfixed.

They both stare, actually. The only sound, Artie wiggling her legs beside Buck.

The silence breaking only when she gets caught in the light too, and sneezes.

She makes the most adorable face as she does, then she seems perplexed, frowning far too cutely, before sneezing again.

Eddie chuckles, moves to scoop her up. “I think someone has PSR… The curse of blue eyes, princesa, I’m so sorry…” He peppers her face with tiny kisses, and she stops frowning, instead relaxing in Eddie’s arms, as she always does.

Buck hums, taking advantage of his daughter’s absconding to stretch properly. “PSR? What’s that?”

Eddie doesn’t answer immediately, and when Buck looks at him, he averts his eyes, as if caught staring.

“Uh… Photic sneeze reflex. Some people sneeze when subjected to bright light. Mostly blue-eyed people.”

“How do you know that?”

“Shannon’s mom had it. It drove her mad. She had to wear sunglasses even in cloudy weather if it was a bit too bright out. She hated it.”

Buck smiles. Talking about Shannon is still a hurting point for Eddie, but he’s getting better at it. Perhaps because Christopher forces his dad to talk about her at least once a week. Part of an ongoing agreement since he came back from Texas, apparently.

“Well, I hope it’s not that bad for Artie. We live in Los Angeles, after all…”

Eddie kisses Artie on the hand she pressed to his face not-too-gently. “No matter what, she’s perfect as she is. Eh princesa?” He twirls with Artie in his arms, and she squeals. “Come on, let’s get you clean and dressed. Papa and Daddy have some work to do.” He leaves the room like that, once again leaving Buck with his heart beating a drum.

It’s the first time Eddie has referred to himself as ‘Daddy’ in reference to Artemis.

And as much as it’s a natural thing, logical after they decided to adopt each other’s child…it’s…

Well, it’s so good to hear that Buck needs a minute.

Or twelve.

Eddie has dressed Artie in a pair of dungarees that Maddie gifted her for her christening. It’s got flowers embroidered on the front, and Eddie decides it’s ‘perfect for a day of DIY’.

Buck can’t deny that she does look like the cutest handyman ever.

They eat a quick breakfast after feeding the baby, and then, they both get into the white overalls that they bought at the shop yesterday, to protect their clothes from paint splotches.

Artie’s furniture is moved to the spare bedroom for now, and Buck applies masking tape to the edges of the window and ceiling. The ground is covered in the same tarp as Eddie uses to paint his canvases, thankfully big enough for the whole room.

Artie herself is parked in her car seat in the middle of the room, placed so that she can see her fathers work easily, and so that they can check on her too.

Eddie chooses to start with the lighter wall. He’s got a glint in his eye, as if he’s hiding something from Buck, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he focusses on the task at hand.

They both choose their wall, and start working after watching a quick tutorial on YouTube. Buck plugs in a random playlist, and off they go.

The lighter wall takes the longest to paint, so, after he’s done with the darker green, Buck helps Eddie finish the larger wall. Thankfully, it won’t need a second layer, and will dry in no time at all. They then paint the wall with the window, which takes less time still, and leave the last wall for after lunch.

Artemis is fast asleep when they finish that.

Eddie then presses his hand to the first wall he did in the morning, and smiles to himself. “It’s dry.”

Buck, already halfway through removing his overalls, furrows his brow. “So?”

Eddie looks at him, a bit sheepish, now. “I’ve… I’d like to paint something over it. If you’re okay with it.”

Buck tilts his head. “Of course I’m okay with it.” He grins. “Can I watch?”

Eddie bites his lip. “Uh… Not yet? Maybe in an hour, or something? Not at first, please. I’ll…mess things up otherwise.”

Buck doesn’t feel like it’s a rejection at all. He’s rather excited, actually. He officially takes off his ridiculous overalls, and grins widely. “Well, then, see you in an hour, Picasso.”

Eddie rolls his eyes – Chris got that from him, whatever he might say – and chuckles. “Get away, you moron.”

Buck leaves the room to go back to Artie, asleep in her pen in the living-room.

A minute later, he hears the first bars to Closer to the Edge blast in the room he just vacated.

Eddie and his obsession with Linkin Park…

An hour later, as promised, Buck knocks on the door, this time, with Artie in his arms. She’s awake, and well at that. She’s starting to show a bit more curiosity and alertness, and Buck thinks that she’ll want to try some toys soon. His clever girl.

“Eddie? Can we come in?”

The music – something emo-sounding that he doesn’t recognize – fades a bit, and Eddie yells ‘Yeah!’, and Buck opens the door.

His eyes immediately go round as saucers.

Eddie has been freepainting the outline of a forest, the same way he’d do on a canvas, Buck supposes. On the left, close to the ground, are flowers and blades of grass, and also the outline of a fox – Artie’s favourite animal at the moment. Then, the closer we get to the other end of the wall – and the window – the more trees appear, higher and higher still, with the tallest reaching near the ceiling.

But the most intelligent thing Eddie has done is that he’s not colouring any of it in realistic colours – yellows and blue, whites or browns. He’s filling it all with the same dark green as the wall near the door, as if this scenery was seen in shadows.

“It’s…amazing, Eds.”

Eddie, who’s still got some trees to fill, blushes a bit. “You think?”

“I know. It’s breathtaking. You really are an artist…” Buck comes closer, admiring his work. Artie coos, and it seems like she’s interested in the wall too. “And I’m not the only one who thinks so…” He rocks her a bit. “What do you say, darling? Has Daddy done a good job? Yes he has!”

When he looks back at Eddie, his brown eyes are wide and filled with what looks like tears.

Buck suspects that he got overwhelmed by being called Artie’s father, just like he himself did with Chris a while back, so he doesn’t comment.

He’s about to leave the room when a new song starts echoing around them, much calmer than the rest. A ballad.

He doesn’t know why, but Buck starts swaying immediately, and starts singing to Artie in a horribly false tone. “Who’s got the most beautiful bedroom? It’s me, Artie…” he whirls around, improvises some kind of mix between a side-step and a waltz, and Eddie watches.

He watches until Buck dances closer to him, and frees one arm to pull him closer.

“Dance with us, Picasso.”

Eddie snorts, and drops his paintbrush back into the paint pot’s lid, before touching Artie’s back with his hand and swaying too.

Buck laughs, the scene idiotic, domestic, lovely.

At one point, that free arm of his wraps around Eddie’s waist, and Eddie’s free arm wraps around his shoulders. They’re as pressed together as they can be with a baby between them, a baby who apparently likes being the centre of attention, because she coos up a storm.

Buck’s cheeks hurt when the song fades, because he’s been smiling too wide for six minutes’ straight. “I like that song,” he whispers, though he doesn’t really know why. Perhaps because Eddie is so close there’s no need to shout.

Eddie’s eyes are still staring into his soul, and he seems to consider something. His hand gently travels from Buck’s shoulder down his arm and to his hand in a pastiche of a caress. “Nickelback. Satellite.”

“You listen to Nickelback?”

Eddie smiles. “Contrarily to what Internet trolls would want you to think, they’re a great band. And many of their songs helped Teenage Eddie exorcise his feelings.”

“Then they must be good.” Buck smiles back. They don’t entangle until well into the next song.

Eddie turns back to his amazing mural, and Buck watches him work, until Artie has had enough of his stillness and he has to be more active.

Pity though. Watching Eddie paint is akin to a religious experience, he thinks. Those strong arms, tensing and flexing with the strokes of the brush, his strong back muscles highlighted under the thin t-shirt he wears under his overalls now tied at his waist…

Buck flees the room.

Having impure thoughts while carrying his baby daughter is shameful. Bad Buck, bad.

Christopher, when he gets home from school, goes straight to his sister’s playpen, kisses her loudly on the cheek, and then promptly goes to her room to survey what’s been done.

His nose turns up once or twice, and his brow furrows, so Buck – and Eddie – look a bit worried that it’s not up to par, despite it looking amazing in Buck’s eyes.

Instead, Chris looks at his dad, and crosses his arms. “When are you doing my room?”

Buck snorts out a laugh, which fades immediately as Chris glares at him. Eddie sputters a bit. “Uh…you… You want me to paint something in your room? I thought you just wanted colour!”

Chris rolls his eyes, typical. “Dad. This looks super cool. I want to have a super cool room. You know, for reasons. So please, paint something on my wall. Thanks.” And he turns to go to the kitchen to grab a snack, no doubt.

Buck trails behind him and slaps his hand away from a pack of chips. “We’ll be having dinner soon.”

At the same moment, Eddie gets into the room, eyes still wide. “What do you want?!” His voice is shrill, a bit. He waits until Chris looks at him – admittedly, looking like he’s doubting his father’s sanity – before repeating “What would you like? On your wall?”

Chris puts back the pack of chips and sighs. “I chose dark blue tones for my room, and I got a rocket-lamp for Christmas. What do you think?”

Eddie’s lips slowly turn into a smile. “Something space related, then. You want me to…draw something? To make sure you like it?”

Chris shrugs. “No need. I trust you.”

Eddie looks like he’s about to faint. His ‘Thanks, mijo’ is but a whisper that sounds deafening in the kitchen, but the teenager has already gone back to the living-room, and it sounds like he’s talking to Artie.

Buck grins, admires Eddie in a state of awe, before turning back to dinner.

His parents are coming tonight.

Phillip and Margaret turn up at exactly six o’clock, even if they were there four minutes early, Buck saw the headlights through the window.

His dad shakes his hand and hands him a bottle of white wine – ‘Homecoming present’, he says – while Margaret is already looking around calculatingly.

Artemis, freshly fed, is somewhat amenable to being held by her grandmother, so at least Buck’s mom is occupied for the first half-hour of their get-together.

Christopher is watching her like a hawk, anyway.

Phillip therefore follows him to the kitchen, and smiles. “The house already looks really good. Homely.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, a bit unsure because he’s not used to receiving compliments from his father and he doubts he’ll ever get used to it. If it lasts. “We still have things we want to alter: colours, furniture, the garden… But it can be done one thing at a time.”

“Yes, you are right. You don’t have the trouble of having to rebuild part of the house because of water damage or poor electricals, at least.”

Buck’s brow furrows. “Did you… Did you have to do that? In your house?” Which Buck should have called ‘home’, because, well, he grew up in it. But Hershey has never felt like home, like, ever. So he doesn’t.

Phillip, if he notices, doesn’t comment. He hums instead. “Yeah, two of the bedrooms had been damaged by the rain, because there were a couple of tiles loose on the roof. And we had to rethink the whole sewage because when it rained a lot, the garage would get flooded.”

“Well, thankfully, none of that here.” Buck brings the fruit of his labours to the dining-table – a French type of stew by the name ‘boeuf bourguignon’, which he thought his parents would like simply because there was red wine in it – adding “We actually painted Artie’s room today. First room of the house, the most important one.”

Margaret, who is still walking around with Artie in her arms, hisses in his direction like an angry cat. “You will not have her sleep in a room filled with fumes, I hope?!”

Eddie followed Buck from the kitchen with the bottle of white wine and a bottle of sparkling water for Chris. He clears his throat. “Well, no, because, for one, Artie still sleeps with us, and for two, the paint we used is fumes-free. So even if we were the type of parents to have our one-month-old sleep on her own, which we aren’t, then she’d be at no risk of breathing in dangerous chemicals.”

Buck smiles softly in his direction. Eddie is talking about them as a unit. As Artemis’ parents. The both of them.

He loves it.

His mom purses her lips, but doesn’t answer back.

She does complain a bit when Buck takes Artemis from her to put her back in her pen for the duration of dinner, though. Phillip is quick to tell her that she can enjoy her company a little bit later, too.

Buck makes sure that it’s his dad who has Artie in his arms after they’re done with the stew, though. Phillip looks taken aback, but he cradles his granddaughter carefully to his chest nonetheless.

It’s around eight when Artemis fusses around, demanding a change and her bed. Buck escapes the frankly boring conversation Margaret is having with Eddie about family-friendly cars, and cleans her up – stealing more than a few belly-kisses as he does – before swaddling her in her cute jammies.

Back in the living-room, he goes to his parents and announces ‘Artie is going to bed. Say goodnight?’

His mom opens her mouth, as if she’s going to complain about her granddaughter leaving her sight, but Phillip cuts her off by running his hand over Artie’s curly hair. “Bye bye, little one. Till next time.”

Margaret reluctantly says her goodbyes too. Eddie kisses Artie’s head when Buck goes to him, but Chris stands from his seat instead of doing the same.

Buck smiles, because he knows what’s coming, but Margaret still calls after them once Chris starts ascending the stairs, carefully and painstakingly slowly.

(It’s the one thing that makes Buck want time to go faster, because once Artie is old enough to sleep in her room, it’ll be easier for Chris to follow. Until then, it’s Mount Everest every night, and he feels a bit guilty about it…)

“Should he be doing that? Isn’t it dangerous?”

Eddie’s voice is calm, but stern, as he answers. “Christopher likes to tell his sister bedtime stories every night. He also knows to go slowly as he climbs the stairs, and to never do it without anyone following him. That way, we can catch him if he stumbles.”

“And… Coming down?”

“On his bottom. Or, if he doesn’t feel like it, Buck gives him a piggyback ride. He’ll never be too old for those.”

“I am fourteen!” Chris argues, almost at the top of the stairs now. His hand is tightly wrapped around the rail, and his legs a bit wobbly, but Buck doesn’t intervene. Chris knows his own limits.

He still leans in to tease, low enough that he’s the only one who hears. “Don’t pretend you don’t love piggyback rides anymore.”

“I don’t,” Chris hisses back just as low.

“Liar.”

He’s rewarded by a combo of rolling eyes and a smile. Success.

His parents leave around nine, after another long and exhausting conversation, this time about paraphernalia. Margaret Buckley knows better than anyone, after all, it’s a universally acknowledged fact. Buck has learnt to tune her out.

Eddie hasn’t, yet. So Buck has to put his hand on his knee to stop him from snapping back retorts every two seconds.

It works, so the hand stays there.

At the door, Margaret forces Buck to lean down to she can peck his cheek, nothing affectionate to it, and she demands calls and news about Artie ‘every week’. Ignoring the fact that she and her son only have contact about once a year, if she’s in the mood. He still kind of promises.

His dad shakes his hand again, but this time, he traps it by placing his free hand on top of their joined ones. And he looks kind of…sheepish?

“I wanted to ask you something…” he starts, and Buck tilts his head in a silent question. “Would you… Can I…” he takes a breath coupled with a strange, self-conscious huffs. “Would you mind if I followed you on Instagram? I know you put your account on private, Maddie explained it to me, but I’d like to have photos of Artemis on my phone…and of you and your family.”

Buck feels…floored. Yeah, floored.

Eddie’s hand on his back is grounding.

So he kind of nods. “Yeah…okay.”

“Thank you.” It’s let out in a relieved breath, before Phillip frees his hand. He then looks to Eddie. “Thank you for inviting us. Your home is beautiful.”

Buck feels Eddie’s polite smile more than he sees it. “See you next time, Mr Buckley.”

Phillip goes to their rental with an awkward wave. Margaret…doesn’t even look through the window as they drive off.

Eddie chuckles, sounding a bit shocked. “Did that just happen or did I hallucinate it all?”

“If you think you just saw my dad basically asking to be let back into my life, and congratulating us on something, then yeah…it happened.” He chuckles too, still staring at the empty street.

“2025… The year of miracles…” Eddie gently guides him inside by the firm touch of his hand on Buck’s back, and he lets himself be steered.

Yeah… Miracles…

Maybe one more on the cards soon?

Chapter Text

“I don’t get why you still go to that church… Artie’s been christened, it’s okay, you can…stop, now.” Buck is frowning on the passenger seat, his arms aching to cross in a petulant childish way.

Eddie, who’s driving, chuckles. “I told you: Father Brian is a better therapist for me than Frank ever was. I feel comfortable talking to him about stuff. And he likes running. Ergo, we go running together, and I’m meeting him at the church since he lives next to it.”

Buck purses his lips. He doesn’t like this.

Eddie is seeing the freakishly handsome priest at least once a week. They meet at the church to go for a run, or sometimes, Father Brian simply invites Eddie into the priory to have coffee.

Buck hates it.

On the one hand, he’s glad that Eddie found a good outlet, and that he’s somewhat reconciled with his religion; on the other hand, Buck doesn’t like that he’s being chummy with the Priest. It feels…unnatural. Weird.

He hates it.

“I promise, one day, you’ll learn to like him too,” Eddie pipes up after Buck’s pointed silence stretches.

“I don’t expect I’ll have a lot of opportunities to see him again. I’m not exactly religious, you know.”

Eddie mumbles something under his breath, Buck doesn’t catch what.

But it’s true, though. After his daughter’s christening, what kind of stuff could possibly force him into a church again? A funeral? He hopes that won’t happen for a long while yet. Another christening? Maddie and Chimney aren’t like that. A wedding?

That thought makes him falter a bit, and he feels his cheeks heat up. He turns to look out the window to hide it.

A wedding. Whose wedding?

He pretends not to picture himself and Eddie standing at the altar, Chris acting as Best Man and Artie as ring-bearer.

Never gonna happen.

Never.

If only because the Catholic faith doesn’t bless gay marriages.

He sighs wistfully, can’t help himself, and he can feel Eddie’s curious gaze upon him, but before he can question Buck about his sudden gloomy mood, they pull up in front of Maddie’s house.

Because while Eddie is going for a run with a priest before going to work, Buck is spending quality time with his sister. And Artemis. Because 1. Maddie insisted and 2. Buck wouldn’t be parted from her anyway.

He exits the car and circles it to take Artie’s car seat and bag from the back of the truck.

Eddie, instead of staying at the wheel, exits too. He’s got a crease between his eyebrows as he asks “You sure you’ll be okay going home on your own after this? I could Uber to and from work!”

Buck smiles and shakes his head. “Nah. Maddie’s got the fixtures for the seat in her own car, and she’ll drive me home. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Eddie relents, and he comes close to lean down and press a lingering kiss on Artie’s head over her cute pastel blue beanie. “See you later, princesa. Be good to your Papa and Auntie.”

He leans back up, and the movement brings him close to Buck. Not that they haven’t been inches from each other before; but now that Buck is aware of his feelings for his best friend, every lack of distance between their lips feels like torture.

Especially when, like right now, Eddie is staring at him intently, searching, or maybe trying to convey a message.

It almost looks like he’s going to kiss Buck goodbye too, but before he makes any kind of move, the door to the house bursts open, and Jee comes running out.

“Unka Buck! Uncle Eddie!”

She barrels into their legs, and the moment shatters, although it does in a decidedly good way.

Seeing Eddie snatch Jee-Yun up in his arms to twirl her around will never not be super endearing. It’ll also never fail to have Buck’s heart stutter a bit.

(Or a lot.)

Eddie [Today, 9:45 am]

Safely arrived at work. The big bad Priest didn’t molest me. :P

Buck [Today, 9:46 am]

NOT funny!

b safe

Eddie [Today, 9:50 am]

You know I will be.

Besides, Ravi is there to have my back in your absence.

Buck [Today, 9:52 am]

he bttr

or I’m revoking hs ‘cool uncle’ prvlgs

Buck pockets his phone again, a dopey smile on his lips.

It’s not that he was worried that something was going to happen to Eddie on a run with a priest.

It’s more that he is worried every time Eddie leaves his sight.

He sighs wistfully, and when he looks back up to his sister, who was talking to him about her upcoming sonogram, she’s silent, and staring at him with a knowing smirk on her lips.

“What?” he asks, deflecting her piercing gaze.

Maddie snorts. “Oh, nothing. But I do wonder who that was, huh?” She dramatically takes a sip of her tea. Morning sickness is hitting her hard this time around, but thankfully, Karen is dealing in soothing ginger teas, which helps a lot.

Buck tries to ignore what she means by looking at Jee drawing at her little table, her old playpen set up and Artie peacefully sleeping in it.

But Maddie isn’t done with him yet. “So. Anything new on that front?”

Buck looks back at her reluctantly, and tries to play dumb. “On what front?”

She purses her lips. “Evan Buckley. Don’t pretend to be stupid.” She sighs when he refuses to answer. “On the ‘Eddie front’.”

“I don’t think there’s anything new to be had. We live together. He coparents Artemis. I coparent Christopher.” He shrugs.

She chuckles mockingly. “…you sleep in the same bed, you make goo-goo eyes at each other… Or, and you’re freaking out because he’s spending time with another attractive man. Am I missing anything else?”

“You are the worst sister a man could have,” he grumbles without meaning a word of it. “And that priest isn’t that attractive.”

“But you are admitting to freaking out every time Eddie goes out with him.”

“You make it sound like they’re dating.”

“I’m not. You are interpreting my words as your idiotic mind sees fit. Evan,” she sighs and puts her mug on the coffee table to grab his hand, “don’t you think it’s time?”

“Time for what?” He stares at their joined hands to avoid looking into her eyes.

“Time for you to tell him you’re in love with him? That way, he can say it back, and you can both stop pining like star-crossed lovers.” She chuckles, this time much more joyfully. “And that way, I can give him the official shovel-talk, and walk you down the aisle.”

Buck’s head snaps up at her words. “Wha-who—How do you know I’m in love with him? And since when do you know???”

Maddie gives him a look that means ‘Really?’ before slapping his hand lightly. “You are not subtle, Evan. I clocked it the first time you talked to me about him.” She smiles softly. “But I knew for sure when you lost your marbles about that Tommy thing.”

Buck groans. “I really was stupid. To think I was crushing on Tommy instead of Eddie…”

“Yeah, well… To err is human. But please, let’s not mention that horrible man again. But, honestly, even if I was trying to be patient back then, right now, I’m telling you… Tell him, Buck. It’s been long enough. And it’s laughable, now, to pretend like you don’t love each other. You live together and parent each other’s kids together!” She throws a hand up in frustration.

Buck thinks with a pinch of relief that she doesn’t know the half of it. He’s kind of convinced she’d beat him up with her shoe if she knew they were filing papers to adopt each other’s kids, too…

Still… “Eddie might be demisexual, but that doesn’t mean he likes men.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that means he likes you,” Maddie rolls her eyes. Somehow, it looks like she might be related to Chris, in that moment.

Buck remains silent. His heart is beating fast, fluttering with hope that Eddie may return his feelings; his head is telling him that there’s no way in Hell Eddie Diaz would fall for someone like him. Eddie is way out of his league.

Maddie seems to clock his trail of thoughts, as she often does. She sighs. “Alright, do me a favour. If you’re not going to confess your feelings, then at least, pay attention to Eddie. To how he looks at you. How he touches you. How he acts around you. Just…pay attention. Please?”

Buck nods. He knows that nothing will come out of this.

Eddie Diaz is the most perfect human on this planet. People like that have no reason to give Buck more than a second glance.

(He is not biased at all.)

They end up going to the park, Maddie pushing Artemis’s stroller while Buck carries Jee on his shoulders and helps her down the biggest slide – ‘Watch me, Unka Buck!’ being hollered each and every time.

Maddie doesn’t broach the subject again, and they talk instead about her pregnancy. She’s excited about it, but also feeling a bit guilty because she wasn’t this positive for Jee, and she feels like a bad mom for it. Buck is quick to assuage those fears.

They talk about names for a while, too.

Before Maddie broaches another subject.

“I saw that Dad liked several of your Instagram posts the past few days…”

Buck bites his lip, reaches to hold Jee up on the monkey bars, taking her weight. “Yeah?”

“Are you… Are things better with them, then?”

“With him,” he corrects. “Dad is…trying. I don’t know why, maybe because of Artie, I don’t know, but when they came for the christening, he told me he wanted to try and be a better father. And grandfather. He…talked to me about us. As babies. All three of us.”

Maddie’s eyes widen. “Even about Daniel?”

“Yeah. I was as surprised as you are. But he carried on doing it. Sometimes, he sends me a picture of something he found in the attic, a toy or stuff like that, asking me if Artie would like it, and telling me that Daniel played with it, or you.” Never me goes unsaid, but Phillip has made amends about that. Apparently, his parents had thrown out everything that had been solely his a long time ago. He’s still bitter, but at least, his father is owning to it.

“That’s…” Maddie breathes out. “That’s…”

“Miraculous is the word that came to mind at the time.” Buck chuckles, and tickles Jee as she hangs upside down on the bars. She lets go completely, and he whirls her around, still upside down, until she cries for mercy. She then runs up to the seesaw, and he knows she can be on her own for a few minutes. “When they came over for dinner, last week…” he smiles a bit, “he asked if he could follow me on Insta. To keep up with Artie, but also with me, and Eddie, and Chris.”

“That’s amazing, Buck.” Maddie is smiling wide, her eyes a bit misty. He doesn’t know if it’s the hormones or something else, but he knows that his mending relationship with their father is a monumental thing. “And…Mom?”

“No change there,” he groans. “But I have enough mother figures around here,” he looks at her pointedly, “not to miss her too much.”

“Yeah…” Maddie bites her lip, “but it’d be hard to cut her off and not him…”

“Let’s…go at it one day at a time. Besides, the Buckleys as a whole have been a bit fucked up for ages now, it’s not like a few years is gonna change anything.”

She snorts, rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, you dummy.”

Artie chooses that moment to wake up in her pram, and he goes into ‘Dad’ mode to retrieve the pre-heated bottle he keeps in her bag. Maddie asks to feed her, so he takes a few pictures, that he sends his Dad afterwards.

The heart emoji takes about three seconds to appear, and somehow, it makes him feel good.

Eddie texts Buck throughout his shift.

Buck tries to be subtle as he answers.

But the glint in his sister’s eyes tells him he really lacks subtlety after all…

He’s not sorry, though.

Chapter Text

Time goes by.

Eddie and Buck paint Christopher’s bedroom and decorate it with the teen standing guard and directing every piece of furniture to its right place; after which he shoos his dads out of the room to take care of his books and collectibles. And probably his secrets.

Buck goes on lunch dates with Natalia, who lets him bring Artie once or twice. She’s not cold towards the baby, but doesn’t ask to take her, or feed her, and she doesn’t interact with her much. She does compliment her looks and growth, though.

Eddie continues going on runs with Father Brian, even though Buck hates it every single time.

Artemis grows up, turns two months old, then 10, then 11 weeks old. Her hair grows curly like her biological parents’, dark like Nat’s. Her eyes lighten up to a blue that is eerily reminiscent of Buck’s, though he denies it every time Eddie ‘complains’ about it – about the ‘almighty puppy eyes’, he says.

She also gets a few beauty marks here and there, alongside her birthmark that doesn’t fade. She’s got one spot on the side of her belly – a prime spot for kisses, Buck thinks – and one…well…

She gets one beauty spot just over her left collarbone.

In ‘Eddie’s Spot’.

He refuses to see it as a sign, but it’s…troubling, that his daughter should get a physical manifestation of the way one of her dads touches the other when they’re having serious – or not that serious – conversations.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, but Buck sees him press his thumb to the mark each time it’s his turn to change or bathe her.

February starts quietly, with the household more confident than ever in their new-ish walls. They’ve hosted a family dinner with the Buckley-Hans and Wilsons two days ago, and Buck feels amazing knowing that he was the one to cook, make the table, welcome them at the door. He feels proud.

He also feels proud when Pepa calls on a Wednesday evening, asking her nephew for help with Isabel’s move back to L.A. that following Friday.

“I’m not going to be able to help,” Eddie frowns, his phone on speaker as they finish cleaning up the kitchen, “I’ve got a 24 and I can’t move it so close to the date…”

“It’s fine, Eddie, we know your work is important.”

“I can help. If you want,” Buck pipes up, sheepish.

He can almost imagine Josephina’s eyebrows twitching when she answers “Well, of course we want, Evanito. I thought it was a given. You’re family too, don’t forget. And don’t forget to bring our little tesoro with you.”

Buck chuckles, touched despite the joking tone. “I see. You say you want me, but you only want Artemis.”

“No comment. But don’t be silly.”

They agree on a time, she gives Buck Isabel’s new address, and she hangs up after sharing a few news with Eddie about his cousins and El Paso in general, though she avoids talking about his parents, which they are both grateful for.

So, Buck finds himself on a quiet little street, facing a quaint little semi-detached bungalow, Artie’s car seat in one hand, her bag over his shoulder, and a cake box in the other hand.

On Valentine’s morning.

He’s never really paid attention to the holiday, because he’s never had anyone to celebrate it with. All of his relationships ended before or started after the 14^th February, and besides, he’s not sure he likes the idea that there’s one day a year where it’s acceptable to celebrate one’s partner and one’s love, instead of all year round.

All of this to say, he didn’t realise which day it was, and is surprised when Pepa offers him a bright pink cookie with his coffee. Apparently, she spent the day before baking with her granddaughter, who’s supposed to offer most of the batch to her high school crush.

“Anything special tonight?” she asks as they sit around the table with Isabel, Pepa’s son Javier, her daughter-in-law Amy, and several other Diazes whose name Buck hasn’t computed yet.

He shrugs. “Not really. I’m not dating anyone, anyway, why bother?”

He notices Javier sharing a look with his cousins and partner, but no one says anything.

Isabel, on the other hand, does. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not dating. Today is the Day of Love! Any kind of love, Evanito. You can offer a flower to Artemis; or chocolates to my grandson. And I’m sure Christopher would not say no to a cupcake.”

Buck chuckles. “He would pretend not to like it, though.”

“Ah! Only for two minutes!” She grins. “I hope you receive something too, nieto. You deserve it.”

He reaches for her hand, basking in her motherly affection, which he’s lucky enough to be a recipient of whenever they see or talk to each other. “This impromptu breakfast is already a gift.”

“Stop it, you charmer.” She pats his cheek, and turns to the rest of the table. “Alright, you lot. Finish up your coffees, I need strong arms to carry the couch inside, and my bed!”

Javier and… – is it Juan? or Carlos? Buck always has the two twin cousins mixed up – sigh mightily. Pepa slaps her son upside the head, and he apologizes in Spanish.

“Evanito,” Isabel continues, pointing at him as she scoops Artie out of her seat for cuddles – and to show her how to run the show, no doubt – “you are in charge of the fridge and standing freezer. And kitchen appliances. You’re the only one around here who knows his way around a kitchen.”

“I resent that, Mamà,” Pepa hisses, though she still pats Buck’s wrist to signify she’s not cross with him.

“Tss,” Isabel tuts before moving through countless boxes in the dining-room, “you’ll be more useful to me elsewhere, Josephina. Let the boy do what he likes.”

Pepa leans in, whispering to Buck “I think she has a favourite.”

He chuckles, and feels his cheeks heat up. “Just because I gave her a new greatgrandbaby to dote on.”

“I’m pretty sure that she’d be that way even without Artemis’s presence,” Pepa winks, and stands to start helping the gaggle of people already buzzing around the place.

Javier, still sitting in front of Buck, gulps the last of his coffee, and sighs before standing up too.

“Javier Pablo Fernandès!” Pepa’s voice rises immediately. “Don’t you dare leave your dirty cup on that table!”

Javier, who jumped nearly a foot in the air, looks like he’s about to faint.

Buck takes pity on him, and gestures for his cup. “I’ll take care of it.”

Eddie’s cousin smiles at him. “You’re my favourite, now, Buckley.”

Buck smiles and chuckles to himself.

It’s strange, how at ease he feels here, surrounded by complete strangers, only because they’re related to Eddie, Isabel and Pepa. He feels at home among the Diazes – and affiliated.

It’s nice.

It’s around 3pm when he gets home, a notebook filled with recipes from Isabel – and Marika, Eddie’s cousin Diego’s wife, who’s from Greece – and arms filled with little things for his family. Because he figured that, while Valentine’s Day is a commercial holiday and he doesn’t need it to spoil those he loves, it might be nice to offer them small nicknacks all the same.

He bought a brand-new bow for Artie, this time in green, which is quickly becoming their favourite colour on her; a silly card for Maddie; a box of heart-shaped chocolates for Chris; and a tub of strawberry ice-cream for Eddie. And a bouquet of fresh roses for himself, because why not.

May offered to babysit Artie again in the afternoon, after Isabel and Pepa – and the rest of their extended family – had enough time to coo over her and hug her tight.

But while he expects to find his somewhat little sister on the couch, and Artie in her pen, instead, he finds his daughter in her car seat, and May standing beside it, her phone in hand and her dark eyes set in a frown.

“May? What’s—”

She doesn’t let him finish his question. “You’ve got to get to the hospital. It’s Eddie, he’s—”

He doesn’t let her finish either, drops all that he has in his arms on the console in the entryway, and turns to leave.

Eddie’s hurt.

Eddie’s in hospital.

Eddie could be between life and death right now, and Buck isn’t there with him, Buck hasn’t told him…

He needs to get there. Now.

May runs after him and shouts his name, but he doesn’t stop until she’s got her hand on him. “Hey, he’s alright.”

“If he’s in hospital—”

“Yeah, I didn’t phrase that well. He’s not dying, then. He can wait two more minutes.” She points at the house. “Will you leave Artie here?”

Buck’s eyes widen. In his haste to get to Eddie’s side, he forgot the baby.

May smirks. “Right. Well, while you grab her, let me finish explaining what happened.” She trails after him as he goes back inside and takes the time to drop the roses in a glass of water and put the ice-cream in the freezer. “There was a pile-up. Eddie was helping someone in a car, but they got rammed into by an idiot. Eddie’s got two bruised ribs and a sprained knee, so he can’t drive home. That’s why you have to go grab him. Nothing more than that.”

Buck purses his lips, greets Artie with a kiss on her head, and glares at May. “It’s already too much, as far as I’m concerned.”

She smirks again. “You don’t say.” Her phone chimes, she looks at it, then back at him. “Bobby says Eddie’s been discharged. He’ll be waiting for you in the ER waiting room. They had to skedaddle back to the scene.”

“Who says ‘skedaddle’???”

“I do. Now leave.”

“This is my house, May Grant.”

“I just spent three hours looking after your spawn, Evan Buckley.”

He narrows his eyes. “What do you want?”

She grins. “Let me finish watching my show on your enormous tv; and ask Eddie to paint me something for my dorm.”

“You can ask him yourself.”

“I’m busy.”

“I don’t care.” He turns to leave his own house, and May laughs at his back before closing the door on him.

Siblings…

Eddie is sitting in the waiting room when Buck arrives, Artie’s seat once again secured in one hand. His left leg is propped up on another chair with a cushion, and Buck notices that he’s wearing disposable scrubs that have been cut, so that he’s got one side down to mid-thigh. A thick bandage is wrapped around his knee, or perhaps it’s swollen badly already.

“Eddie,” he breathes in relief when he gets to him and his eyes fleet over every inch of his face. He’s got a small cut on his cheek, and a bruise peeks over the collar of his t-shirt, but other than that, he looks okay.

If not a bit bored. “Hey. Sorry. I needed a driver and Bobby didn’t want me to call an Uber.”

“I wouldn’t want you to call an Uber either,” Buck says, putting Artie down on the seat next to her Daddy.

“Hello, princesa! So sorry you had to come here for me, darling. I’ll make it up to you.”

“She didn’t drive,” Buck points out.

Eddie’s eyes glint with mischief when he looks up. “And how could I possibly make it up to you, then?”

Buck swallows. His cheeks suddenly feel like they’re on fire, but he refuses to admit that Eddie might be flirting with him. Nope. Another case of hallucination, Buckley.

“Don’t get hurt again,” he offers weakly.

Eddie’s smile fades, and he sighs a bit. “Buck… This is nothing. If my knee wasn’t busted, I’d already be home with an Ibuprofen and nothing else.”

“Still. You can’t get hurt at work when I’m not there. It’s forbidden.”

“Forbidden, huh?” The smile is back, even as Eddie is playing with Artie’s tiny hands. “I’m sorry I worried you. It truly was nothing major.”

“Anytime you get the smallest scrap on you, it’s major to me.”

Eddie’s eyes meet his again, and it’s intense, a silent conversation that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Buck’s throat feels clogged, because he is in a hospital, and Eddie might be okay now, but he could have not been, and Buck wasn’t there to save him, to take care of him. To drag him under a truck and to safety; to dig through mud to get to him.

It sounds stupid, but he means it: the smallest scrap on Eddie is already too much.

He feels the need to wrap him in bubble-wrap, but he knows it wouldn’t be welcome.

“Take me home?” Eddie breathes after a while, his gaze soft, his lips stretched in a small smile.

Buck swallows loudly. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. I’ve got something for you anyway.”

Eddie’s smile turns curious. “For Valentine’s?”

Buck blushes a bit. “Yeah. I got something for the kids too. And Maddie.”

Eddie remains silent for a bit, before whispering. “I got you something too. But it’s at the station.”

Buck smiles. “You’ll give it to me later.”

Eddie got him something for Valentine’s Day.

Buck’s heart has a strong opinion about that, but he won’t listen to it too much. He’s got to drive, after all.

He has to help Eddie walk – or limp – to the car, and his arm feels on fire as it wraps around his best friend’s waist. Eddie’s own hand comes up to his shoulder, his fingers branding Buck’s skin with his name.

Buck doesn’t want to see him hurt ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

He’s going back to work in seven days. Until then, he’s going to threaten Ravi with bodily harm if he ever lets Eddie so much as lift something heavy.

Chapter Text

On the morning of the 21^st February, Buck is Stressed with a capital S.

He’s leaving Artie to go back to work for the first time since she was born, and he’s…not okay with it whatsoever.

What if something bad happens while he’s away? What if she chokes on her bottle? What if she wiggles too much in her clothes and smothers herself? What if she falls from the changing table?

What if there’s an earthquake and the house falls down on top of her?

What if a meteor falls from the sky right on top of her as she’s taken out for a stroll?

Buck is not alright.

He’s running through the house, double and triple-checking that everything is in order for Isabel to take care of the baby today, while Chris is feeding her her breakfast bottle on the couch, and watching him with the type of look that means he thinks his Pa is cray-cray.

“Evanito, nieto, come finish your coffee. You are digging a trench in the floorboards…”

Isabel comes to gently steer him away from Artie’s bedroom, which he was checking for the umpteenth time.

Eddie, already in work clothes to save time – as if he was expecting such behaviour from Buck – is standing next to the couch and talking with Chris about his upcoming History presentation while Artie peacefully suckles on her bottle.

Isabel sits him down at the kitchen island, and pushes both his unfinished mug of coffee and a granola bar his way.

“I’m not hungr—” he starts, but one look from the Diaz matriarch makes him shut his mouth and accept the offering.

She sits next to him and smiles gently. “I know it’s difficult, to leave them for the first time. You should have seen Eddie’s Abuelo when he had to go back to work after three days. He was beside himself. Nearly punched his boss in the nose when he mocked him for wanting to be home with his baby.”

“I couldn’t have done three days,” Buck agrees meekly, munching on the granola bar.

“You’ve had twelve wonderful weeks with Artemis. And now, you’re simply going to see her less. But still every day. And I promise everything will be fine.”

He tries to believe her. He really does. But some part of him, the catastrophist part, still clings to the worst outcomes ever. The granola in his mouth tastes like dirt, and he wonders what Bobby would say if he called in sick until Artemis was eighteen. At least that.

“Buck? We’re gonna be late, we need to go.”

Buck watches Eddie gently deposit Artie in his Abuela’s arms, and kiss her head. “Be good, princesa.”

“She’ll be as perfect as she always is,” Isabel says, cradling the baby close with a soft smile. “I’ll introduce her to my favourite telenovelas, she’ll love it.”

“You’ll pervert our sweet daughter?” Eddie fakes a gasp.

“As if you didn’t already watch those shows when no one is looking,” Chris pipes up sarcastically as he grabs his schoolbag from the counter. “Come on, you two. I can’t be late.” He kisses his sister too, then leaves the room, prompting his dads to do the same.

Eddie kisses his grandmother and daughter once more, and pats Buck on the shoulder with a compassionate smile.

Buck feels like the worst father in Creation. But he has to leave, so he kisses Artie’s head and lingers there, silently promising her to come back soon, that she’s loved and that he won’t forget her.

Isabel follows them to the front door and takes Artie’s hand to make her wave.

Eddie lingers, and Buck hears him ask ‘Send him as many pictures as you can. And hourly updates, if you can. Otherwise, he’ll struggle even more’.

Isabel nods softly, and Buck is surprised to see that she’s not judgmental about it at all.

As if his spiralling is normal.

As if he’s not turning mad at the simple fact of leaving his daughter for the day.

Chris, in the back seat, sighs. “Are all dads as embarrassing?”

Eddie starts the ignition and chuckles. “I was the same with you. Just you wait, mijo. You’ll grow up just as embarrassing, if not more.”

“No thanks,” Chris grumbles.

Buck watches Artie disappear in the rearview mirror, and a stone settles in his gut.

He has to give it to the team: they are acting as if everything is perfectly fine and ordinary.

Of course, there was the mandatory cake, this time with ‘This Dad is on Fire!’ amidst flames – but it tasted like ash in his mouth – but other than that, the 118 is pretending like he is not unravelling at the seams.

Apart from Eddie, who tries – and fails – to distract him and to include him in conversations.

Buck can’t help it. Half of his heart is back home with Artemis.

He wonders if she’s alright, if she misses him. If she screamed Isabel’s head off when getting dressed for the day, or if she was still the quiet, perfect baby she’s been since birth.

Isabel dutifully sends him near-hourly texts, stating that Artie is napping in her room; that she took her bottle like a champ; that they’re going for a walk in the park. Each time, he wonders if it’s the truth, or if his daughter is in the ER, half-dead.

He’s not dramatizing at all.

He’s just…miserable.

To the point where Ravi has to take his spot during a call, because he zoned off while the victim was asking him questions he didn’t hear.

Bobby demotes him to easier tasks after that. Like preparing dinner.

And it’s then, around 6:30, when they’re all back from a minor kitchen fire, that they find the best of sights ever.

Isabel, Chris and Artie, spread on the loft’s couch, waiting for them.

Buck runs to his daughter and scoops her up, smothering her in kisses.

“My baby, my beautiful baby! I’m so sorry I left you this morning, so sorry! Papa’s so sorry…”

Chimney snorts, earning himself a glare.

Eddie smiles at his grandmother. “Thank you for bringing them. He was a downer all day.” Buck growls at him, but Eddie ignores his antics.

“Actually,” Isabel grins, “it was Christopher’s idea.”

The teen shrugs, trying to downplay it. “I figured Buck would feel better if he could see Artie tonight.”

Buck launches himself on the couch, careful of Artie in his arms, but still hugging the boy tightly. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re still super embarrassing.”

Buck doesn’t care. He squeezes both his children tight, and doesn’t let go for hours.

(Hours actually meaning one hour and a half, after which they have to go home and the 118 has to leave on call.)

Buck feels lighter, but still…

He misses his kids like crazy.

The following shifts are the same, except Artie gets babysat by various members of Buck’s extended family. One day, it’s Maddie, who’s off for doctors’ appointments anyway. Another, it’s Athena – though those occurrences are rarer, because she tries to be off at the same time as Bobby, who’s off at the same time as Buck anyway – and another yet, Karen.

But it quickly becomes obvious that this situation can’t go on forever.

For now, Artie is a quiet baby who merely needs a lot of naps, a bottle, a change from time to time, and cuddles. Her play time is limited by what she can do – grabbing things and rolling to her side mostly – but it soon won’t be like that anymore.

Soon, she’ll be more active. She’ll need to play more, she’ll start rolling to her tummy, she’ll start eating solids. All of that means that the person in charge of watching her will need to be fully concentrated on her needs.

And Buck is aware that it’s a lot to ask.

Maddie has Jee and her own pregnancy to take care of. Because of her age, she has more appointments than a woman five years younger – which makes him angry, but anyway.

Karen has work and two growing kids who demand her full attention too.

Athena is often called to work even on her official days off.

And Isabel, despite what she says, is growing older, and kneeling on the floor isn’t good for her new hip; nor is carrying a growing baby who’s heavy even to her fathers’ arms, after hours of holding her.

Buck needs to find a solution. And he can’t for the life of him figure it out.

He’s back at work when it happens.

Isabel is watching Artie for the day, but calls him around 11 am to tell him she’s got to run an errand and can’t take her with her. Buck panics for all of two seconds before she tells him that Pepa has shown up to watch her for a few hours.

Eddie tries to stop him from running laps around the loft as he calls around and tries to find a solution for the rest of the day.

In the end, Bobby takes pity on him, and sends him home, promising that he’ll make it up by working extra next shift.

Buck drives home in a frenzy, and apologizes what seems like a hundred times to a rather impassive Pepa.

“I’m so so so sorry,” he keeps saying even as he cuddles Artie to his chest.

Pepa sits at the kitchen island, that look on her face, the one with the eyebrows raised, and her hands intwined on the wooden surface. “Sit down, Evanito.”

He stops his pacing, and does as he’s told, but braces for the moment she’ll yell at him and say it was the first and last time she was helping him.

That moment never comes.

“It’s come to my and my mother’s attention that watching Artemis has become a bit difficult. Not because she’s not adorable, but because most of those who can watch her have an erratic schedule.”

He nods, shameful. “I tried to find a nursery, but they’re all full, or super expensive.”

She hums. “Yes, I am aware of the appalling child-care situation in Los Angeles. Thankfully, I’ve got the perfect solution for you.”

His eyes widen, Artie coos curiously as she grabs onto his shirt collar and puts it in her mouth.

Pepa smiles softly. “My granddaughter, Luisa, has just graduated. She is opening her own nursery, about a fifteen minutes’ drive from my house. About thirty from here. There are no children enrolled yet, because it’s not officially on the books. It opens in two weeks.” She leans in. “I talked to her about Artemis. She agrees to give you a family discount, since little Artie is family. You only need to give her a call to settle everything. The number of days, her special needs, anything.”

Buck feels tears rise to his eyes. “Two weeks? A family discount?” His voice is feeble, filled with emotion. “Really?”

Pepa tuts, rounds the island, and hugs him and Artie in the way only a mother could. “There there, Evanito. I told you I had a solution for you. And that way, our little tesoro will still be in the family.”

He can’t help it, he sobs.

In the end, Pepa handles the call to Luisa, and Buck tries to convey between sniffs and tears that he’d like his daughter to attend the nursery four days a week. He knows Isabel can handle her one day or afternoon, and Maddie would like to have her too.

He can’t believe that he’s surrounded by such amazing people.

He invites Pepa to dinner for it, but even then, he feels like it’s not payment enough.

“What have you been staring at for the past ten minutes?”

Buck kind of groans a non-answer. He’s still staring, and yes, it’s been a few minutes.

But he can’t help it.

It’s staring back.

The calendar on their fridge.

The one where five neat little ‘A’s are showing him that Artie has been sleeping through the night for five days straight.

It’s time.

It’s time for her to move into her own bedroom; something that is already stressful in itself, if there wasn’t a second implication to that news.

Eddie will not have any more reason to sleep in Buck’s bed.

And those two things combined…make him feel like shit.

So, he’s been staring at that bloody calendar for ten minutes, hoping that, if he glares hard enough, those little ‘A’s are gonna fade into a bad memory.

But they never do.

“Artie…has been sleeping the night. She…can move into her own bed.”

Eddie sighs mightily, and his hand finds itself on Buck’s shoulder, a comforting weight that doesn’t comfort him enough, this time. “Yeah, I know, I figured it out this morning too.” He chuckles joylessly. “She’s growing up too fast.”

Buck hums back.

Yes, Artie is growing up too fast to his taste too.

But why is Eddie avoiding the other meaning behind this change?

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep the baby monitor close. She’ll be fine. And in a week’s time, you’ll be glad not to have her to interrupt your beauty sleep.” Eddie chuckles again, this time a bit more joyously, and he moves to grab a glass of water from the tap.

Buck watches him.

‘We’.

Eddie said ‘We’ll keep the baby monitor’. Not you. Not each of us. We.

Does he--?

Is he--?

Buck gulps around the lump in his throat.

He’s tempted, terribly tempted, to ask Eddie up front if he intends to continue sharing Buck’s bedroom and bed with him. But he’s a coward, so he doesn’t.

If Eddie comes upstairs with him tonight, he’ll have his answer. And he’ll take it while it lasts.

A few hours later, Christopher is doing his homework in his bedroom; and Artie is cooing and watching her mobile spin over her playpen. Whenever it stops, she starts complaining and Buck has to run from the kitchen to start it over again.

He’s trying to multitask listening to the telltale slowing of the mobile music so he reaches it before it stops, and making dinner. And it’s…very slow-going.

So he decides he’s going to need a bit of help.

“Eddie?” he calls through the house, not knowing where his best friend has gone.

“In the art room!”

Buck straightens, and frowns. The art room? They don’t have an art room, what the hell is Eddie talking about?

But his voice came from…it came from…

Well, it came from Eddie’s bedroom.

Buck goes to the door, finds it ajar, and pushes it open all the way.

He’s never actually stepped inside this room since the move. It reminds him too much of the fact that he and Eddie aren’t a couple, and that they’re going to be sleeping apart from now on.

Except, well, he doesn’t know where Eddie is going to sleep, because…there’s no bed in this room.

There’s the wardrobe that came with them from South Bedford, but it’s filled with paint buckets and paint brushes and tarps and canvases. One of those tarps is covering the floor, and probably has since Eddie started using this room as an art room.

His easel is facing the back wall, so that it can use the light from the window to its right. And Eddie is painting what looks like a cityscape at night. It swirls with dark colours emphasizing the yellows and oranges that splotch here and there.

Eddie doesn’t look away from his art piece, and Buck, once again, can only admire him in his element. Hair dotted with paint, face smudged where he touched it with dirty hands, arms filled with colours.

He’s breathtaking.

“Did you need something?” Eddie startles him out of his stupor.

Buck clears his throat. “Yeah, uh… Artie’s being obsessed with her mobile again, and I’m trying to make dinner, but I have to go there and start the thing all over again every two minutes, so dinner is not going to be ready for a good while. Could you come help?”

Eddie finally turns to face him. He’s got a spot of yellow on his left cheek. Buck is mesmerized by it. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He shakes his head in good sport, and leans down to place his paint brush in a jar filled with cloudy water. “I’ll be right there. Just let me tidy up here. And maybe clean up a bit.”

Buck gulps. “You’re alright.”

Eddie’s eyes snap to his. “Oh?”

Buck doesn’t, cannot answer. He’s shown his cards too much already.

His brain is a buzz of ‘EddiepaintcolourEddienobedEddiesogorgeousEddieEddieEddie’.

He turns, and flees the room.

The room that isn’t Eddie’s bedroom.

That maybe will never be.

He restarts Artie’s mobile in a daze, and goes back to his cooking in the same daze.

He also stares a bit too long at a pot of cumin, the colour eerily reminiscent of that splotch on Eddie’s face.

He’s so fucked.

Chapter Text

Artie takes to her bedroom gradually. The first night she’s alone, she wakes up twice, no doubt wondering what those new shapes around her are. Buck and Eddie relay each other in rocking her back to sleep. The second night, she only wakes once. And the third night, she wakes about twenty minutes before her dads’ alarm. All things considered, it’s pretty good.

Eddie keeps sleeping in Buck’s bed.

One morning, after Artie is fully acclimated to her room, Buck wakes with an arm wrapped around his waist.

He overthinks it for the next hour or so, until Eddie gets up.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, and doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed.

It happens again.

Buck also wakes with his arms around Eddie, or their legs intertwined under the covers.

Neither of them talks about it.

Buck thinks about it. Constantly.

It’s mid-March when the first Parent-Teacher conference since Chirstopher came back happens.

Eddie’s working an overnight shift, and Bobby has worked around Buck’s schedule so he can go in his stead.

None of Chris’s teachers bat an eye when he rocks up instead of Eddie. None. Of. Them.

They all coo over Artie – since, obviously, he took her with – and Chris’s English teacher even mentions that the teen has written a few times about his sister in his assignments. Chris avoids looking at Buck after that revelation, as if he’s embarrassed. Buck isn’t embarrassed to talk about how much of a good big brother Chris is.

There’s a slight issue with the Geography teacher, who says that Chris has a tendency to speak up in class, and to correct the teacher impertinently.

“Yes, but are you wrong when he does?”

“Sorry?” the man’s moustache twitches, annoyed.

(Said moustache isn’t half as fetching as Eddie’s was.)

“Is Christopher right to correct you? Are you making mistakes?”

“I am not!”

Chris mutters something under his breath.

“See!” the teacher points at Chris angrily.

“What did you just say?” Buck asks, a brow raised.

“He keeps saying Africa is a country.”

Buck’s eyes snap to the teacher. The man tries to shrink in his chair. “I’ll talk to Christopher about how he can politely speak up in class. I suggest you keep your handbooks close when you teach his level.” He stands, bringing Chris and Artie with him. “This is why the rest of the world makes fun of us.”

Chris giggles once they’re out of the classroom. “He’s gonna hate me so much more now!”

“Well, good thing is, you only have to put up with that for two more months.” Buck chuckles, and ruffles the teen’s hair. For once, Chris doesn’t groan about it. “Who’s next?”

“Miss Davies. Science.”

“Aaaah. Your favourite teacher,” Buck teases.

“Don’t say that in front of her!” Chris’s eyes widen.

“Oh? Does someone have a crush?”

“You’re so embarrassing, Pa,” Chris grumbles, leading the way to the next classroom.

Buck preens.

Yeah, he’s a Pa.

(And, in his opinion, he’s a rather cool one. Not embarrassing at all.)

They’ve nearly reached the exit, about an hour later, when Chris gets distracted by one of his friends waiting for one of their teachers.

“Hey, Declan! Papa, can we go say hello to Declan? He’s in my book club.”

Ah, yes. The infamous book club that Chris allegedly joined because he loves reading – he does, to his credit – but that Eddie and Buck suspect he joined to avoid more Math. Clever boy.

The two teens engage in an energetic conversation, and Declan’s mother – or who Buck assumes is his mother – gives Chris her chair before coming to stand by him instead.

She catches sight of Artie, peacefully nodding off in her seat, and she melts.

“Oh my God, that baby is precious!”

Buck is used to this kind of reaction to his daughter, by now, so he beams. “She is, isn’t she? That’s Artemis. Christopher’s sister.”

She coos some more at the baby who keeps sleeping, thankfully, then looks up, looking puzzled. “Oh. And, whose is she, if you don’t mind me asking? Yours or your partner’s?”

Buck bites his lip. He knows pretty much everyone at Chris’s school believes he and Eddie are an item – and most days he finds it very convenient, not to mention he feels smug about it – but sometimes, he wonders if he should correct their assumptions.

This time, as usual, he doesn’t.

“She’s mine.”

“Oh!” The woman lights up. “That’s great! One for each, then! No one jealous!”

Look, Buck knows she doesn’t mean it badly. She probably thinks it’s a compliment, or something nice to say to a queer couple.

But, honestly……how stupid can straight people be sometimes?!

He purses his lips but tries to still be cordial. “Even if Artie was Eddie’s and not mine, I’d love her all the same. Chris is mine in all but blood. It doesn’t change anything.”

Her smile fades, and her eyes fill with what he recognizes as shame.

He decides to cut the conversation short, before she apologizes pointlessly, or maybe even worse, suggests that having ‘one child each’ would be easier in case of a break up; and he turns to Chris.

“Bud? We should get home. Your sister’s going to get hangry soon. You too, for that matter.”

Chris shrugs out of his talk with Declan, and they check each other before he follows Buck gingerly out the door.

“Was Deck’s mom rude? She’s like that sometimes…”

Buck pauses, considers going back inside to yell at that woman. “Has she ever been rude to you?”

Chris sighs. “She didn’t mean to, honestly, and she didn’t do it again after. It’s just, one time, she asked me if I needed help to pour myself a drink.”

Buck feels something fierce and clawed rise in his chest.

Chris catches it, and pushes him towards the parking lot. “It’s fine, I promise. It was like four years ago. But I think she doesn’t have much of a filter. That’s what Deck says anyway.”

Buck hums. “Yeah, well, she better get a filter every time she talks to or about my kids.”

Christopher chuckles, and climbs into the car.

Unaided.

Because he may have CP, but he needs help, he'll ask for it.

The following morning, Eddie gets home right after Chris got to school – thankfully, Declan’s mother was nowhere to be seen at drop-off, or Buck would have had choice words for her. Eddie pecks Artie on the head as she’s playing in her pen, and announces that he’s gonna jump in the shower after dropping his wallet and phone on the dining table.

Buck, who’s trying to put together a menu for the following week, and subsequently come up with a grocery list, keeps thinking about last night.

He truly meant it. It’d make no difference to him, if Artie wasn’t his blood. He’d love her all the same. And he’s sure Eddie feels the same about Chris.

But that stupid little voice in his head keeps nagging him, keeps poking at his brain, muttering ‘yeah, but what if you fuck up, what if Eddie throws you out? will Artie lose a father? will you lose Chris?’ and it’s…relentless.

He starts his menu from scratch twice when he realises he’s put down the same meal three times, and sighs, frustrated with himself.

From the dining table, Eddie’s phone starts ringing, Earth, Wind and Fire’s ‘September’ echoing through the house.

Okay, let’s be honest, Buck has been answering Eddie’s phone – and vice-versa – a lot of times since they’ve known each other. Every time, he checks the caller. If it’s a member of the 118 or a Diaz, he takes the call. If it’s someone from basketball or, heaven forbid, Father Brian, he lets it go to voicemail.

This time, he sees ‘Gareth Sinclair’ glare back at him.

Gareth Sinclair is Eddie’s lawyer.

And, any other time, Buck wouldn’t have taken the call.

Except, well… They’ve gone to Gareth’s office a few weeks back to file their adoption papers, and the lawyer told them it’d take at least two months to be judged and accepted.

And Buck immediately thinks that it’s been accepted earlier than scheduled.

So, he takes the call.

“Hello? Mr Sinclair? It’s Buck. Evan Buckley, I mean.”

“Oh, hello, Mr Buckley! Is Mr Diaz available?”

“Not right now, I’m sorry. Can I…take a message? Maybe? Or you’d rather see us in person, perhaps?” He’s about to start ranting, but thankfully, the man on the other side of the call is more pragmatic.

“No need. You can tell Mr Diaz that his request for a change in his will has been approved and filed accordingly. All is in order. If he has any further requests or questions, he can call me back.”

And that’s that.

Gareth Sinclair drops a weird bomb on top of Buck, and says his goodbyes before hanging up.

Buck keeps the phone pressed to his ear for too long.

Eddie made a change to his will.

He…made a change to his will?

Buck drops the device back on the table, spares Artie a glance – she’s munching on the ear of her fox plushie – and runs upstairs.

Eddie, fresh out of the shower – and deliciously damp – is finishing buttoning his shirt when Buck barges into the dressing room.

“Buck? Everything alright?” Eddie’s brow furrows in worry.

“Your…your lawyer just called.”

“Gareth? Adoption papers went through?” Eddie looks away, buckling his belt, now.

Buck gulps around a lump in his throat. Is Eddie avoiding telling him?

“No. He was calling about…something else.” Those expressive brown eyes snap back to him. “He was calling about…your will?” He knows the inflection in his voice is weak, like a child begging for this to be untrue.

Because the only alteration that Buck can think of concerning Eddie’s will is…if he made it so Buck isn’t Chris’s guardian anymore.

(Which is totally bonkers considering Eddie is letting him adopt Chris…)

Eddie turns towards him, and his hand finds its spot, thumb pressing on Buck’s pulse to calm him down. He hates that it works a charm. “I did have my will altered. And, to be honest, I wanted to talk to you about it…later.” He bites his lip.

Buck’s eyes fill with tears. He hates himself for it. “You…did?”

Eddie nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to have one of my kids in my will and not the other!”

Buck stops breathing.

He’s not sure he understands. Must be the lack of oxygen, though.

Eddie continues, his smile widening a bit. “I had it written that Artie gets half of my belongings in case of my untimely death. Same as Chris.”

And…

Well…

Buck objectively has a lot to say about that.

Because he refuses that Eddie even think about the possibility of his death. That’s a no-no.

But, also…

Eddie put Artie in his will.

And called her his kid.

Buck feels…

Well, once his brain restarts and his lungs start working again, he feels overwhelmed.

And suddenly, the urge to kiss Eddie Diaz becomes imperative.

“Eddie…” he breathes, tiny and vulnerable.

Eddie is staring at his lips. His thumb digs a bit further into Buck’s collarbone, but instead of pushing him away, he leans in.

Eddie leans in.

And Buck leans in.

Their noses touch, brush against each other…

Their lips are a hairbreadth apart—

CRACK!

A mighty crash, followed by Artie’s wails make them fly apart, and Buck’s eyes go to the door immediately.

It takes him a second, but then, he’s jumping into action and runs downstairs.

It’s only about half an hour later, when he’s soothed Artie and Eddie has taken care of the bird that crashed into the bay windows – and needed a bit of time to recover – that Buck realises what nearly happened in that dressing-room.

He and Eddie almost kissed.

What the…fuck?

Chapter Text

Let it be said that Evan Buckley is a very normal individual, with normal reactions, and no impulsivity whatsoever.

Which means that, in the wake of his almost kiss with who he’s certain is the goddamn love of his life, he acts absolutely stellarly about the whole thing.

He barely avoids Eddie, only pretends to be asleep a little when the other man joins him in bed the following night, and only interrupts Eddie’s start of conversation when absolutely necessary.

Promise.

And that means that days, then weeks, go on, and they don’t talk about it.

Hell, Buck doesn’t even think about it.

(He does. Every waking hour, he does. And even his non-waking hours, he does. He always does.)

Besides, every time that Eddie would have the opportunity to talk to Buck about what happened, life gets in the way.

Three days after That™, Christopher has a bad day and needs to be helped around on his wheelchair; after which Buck books an emergency PT session and goes with him.

Ten days after That™, Natalia calls 9-1-1 because one of her clients had a heart attack during a living-wake; and Buck takes her to lunch, making sure not to look at Eddie as he leaves the station.

Four weeks after That™, Maddie asks her brother to come to an appointment with her because Chimney is unavailable and she doesn’t feel like driving herself.

Six weeks after That™…the adoption papers are finally filed.

They’re on shift, in a lull between two calls. Eddie is on the couch, scrolling through his phone, while Buck is teaching Ravi how to make chilli con carne. He really wanted to teach the guy how to cook, it had nothing to do with avoiding Eddie. Promise.

Despite trying to keep his distance for the sake of his own heart and sanity, Buck is as always attuned to everything Eddie does; so he doesn’t miss when the other man gapes at his phone before placing it to his ear.

Buck stares.

Ravi makes a questioning sound beside him, because he paused in the middle of explaining how to properly slice the peppers, but Buck ignores him.

Eddie’s face lights up like a Christmas tree, and his brown eyes immediately seek out Buck while a wide smile is threatening to split his face in two.

He hangs up and jumps from the couch, and Buck meets him halfway, not even having realised that his feet moved him closer.

“Wha—” he starts, but Eddie cuts him off.

“It’s been filed. The adoption. It went through.” Eddie’s voice is trembling, and his eyes are glistening with emotion.

Buck pulls him into a tight embrace.

At one point, he even lifts Eddie off the ground to twirl him.

He can’t believe it.

He’s officially Christopher’s dad.

Eddie is officially Artie’s dad.

They’re officially a family.

He starts weeping against Eddie’s shoulder, his head fitting perfectly in the curve of it as he clings to his best friend still, even as the others circle them with varying looks of worry.

“Everything okay?” Chim asks, and Buck nearly whines.

He can’t tell Chimney, or any of the others, for that matter. Not before he tells Maddie.

He lets Eddie go, and doesn’t notice the way the other tries to reel him back in, his strong hands on Buck’s waist tightening before reluctantly letting go as well.

“Everything’s fine,” he sniffs, avoiding everyone’s gaze, especially Bobby’s. “We just had good news.”

“And…?” Hen tries to prompt.

Eddie chuckles wetly. “Just wait a couple of days. I promise we’ll tell you.”

Chim hums knowingly. “I get it. Sister privileges.”

Eddie chuckles again, his hand firmly clasping onto Buck’s shoulder. “Yeah, that. And grandmother privileges, too.”

Buck kind of sobs out a laugh too. Isabel. Of course she needs to know too.

The others kind of fan out after that, and Bobby moves to the kitchen to continue Ravi’s cooking education.

Eddie pulls Buck so he faces him again. Through his happy tears, Buck can barely make the shape of his smile. “Are you okay?”

Buck doesn’t answer.

He hugs him again.

Maddie tries to make him spill the beans as soon as he calls her to plan a brother-sister bonding night. When he manages to refrain from blurting out the news – with Eddie’s help, or rather, his glare – she agrees to throw out her husband for the evening.

Poor Chimney has to beg Hen for a bestie wine night instead, and she makes him squirm for the rest of their shift, at which point she gives him a brand of white wine he has to get for Karen.

Eddie offers to take care of the kids for tonight, and plans to have dinner at Pepa’s with Isabel.

That’s how Buck finds himself on his sister’s couch, nursing a glass of what looks like red wine, but is actually grape juice, with Jee on his lap pointing at various art pieces – otherwise known as formless blobs of colour – that she made at kindergarten.

“Unka Buck, look!” she presses her little hand on his cheek to force him to look down, and interrupt his tenth attempt to start a conversation with Maddie.

Maddie, who looks too entertained to his taste.

“A little help?” he asks after the twelfth attempt.

Maddie takes pity on him, and stands from the couch, heading to the tv and patting the bright pink beanbag that’s conveniently placed in front of it. “Jee? Have you seen the latest episode of Bluey yet?”

Jee-Yun jumps from Buck’s lap with such gusto that she nearly punches him where no man wants to be punched, and he groans a little, because she is bony that one, and her elbow to his ribs isn’t agreeable at all. “BLUEEEEEEEY!” She runs to her room first, and comes back with a massive plushie of said Bluey – a gift from Albert, because he’s always trying to suck up to his niece and one-up Buck – before plopping down on the beanbag.

Maddie chuckles as she sits back down, this time closer to her brother. “The power of the Aussies.”

Buck groans. “I love her, but she can be as obnoxious as her dad, that one.”

Maddie snorts. “Yeah, pot, kettle.” He tries to look affronted, but his sister looks knowing. “Alright, now that the little terror isn’t going to interrupt, what warranted this siblings-bonding-night? And does it have to do with what Howie has described as a weird behaviour you seem to be showcasing around a certain Texan?” She nudges him in the side.

Buck groans again, runs a hand down his face. “I hate your husband. And no, it has nothing to do with whatever he thinks he saw between Eddie and I. We’re doing perfectly alright.”

“Uhuh,” she says pointedly, taking a sip of her juice.

“Stop it.”

“Evan, whenever you are avoiding Eddie, it means something has happened. And, since we both know you finally realised you’re in love with him, I can only suspect a few situations where you’d run off with your tail between your legs.”

He tries to hide his face in his lap, pressing his eyes to his knees. His back doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t care.

“Did you tell him and it didn’t go well?”

Buck groans.

Maddie hums. “Did you tell him and it did go well?”

He looks up, brow raised. “Really? You think I’d be avoiding Eddie so much if he told me he loved me too?”

She seems to think about it, shakes her head. “No. Actually, I’d picture you two glued by the lips and being even grosser than you usually are around each other. Which, apparently, isn’t what’s going on.”

He straightens, sighs. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you, because otherwise I’ll still be here tomorrow morning. But you’re not telling your husband or anyone else, and by that I mean Josh.” Maddie makes a face, he carries on. “We almost kissed.”

She squeals. Buck isn’t sure he ever heard such a high-pitched noise coming from his sister before. “What??! But that’s amazing, Buck!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because 1. we didn’t actually kiss, and 2. he hasn’t mentioned it since. Which could mean nothing; or which could also mean that I hallucinated it and he didn’t actually mean to kiss me at all. Which is very likely. More likely than the alternative. Because honestly, in what world does Eddie Diaz want to kiss me??? Have you seen him? Have you seen me? I mean, he’s practically—”

He’s cut short by a mighty smack from his sister to his arm. It stings.

“Ow!”

Maddie glares at him. “If you go on another tangent about Eddie’s perceived perfection, I’m gonna barf again, and I’ve got enough of that in the mornings, thank you very much.” She huffs. “Have you mentioned it since it happened?”

“Are you crazy?”

Maddie sighs, smacks him again. “You two really are idiots. The worst idiots. You deserve a medal in idiocy. You need to talk. Preferably yesterday.”

Buck groans again.

In the background, there’s a perky, child-like music, and Jee, lying on her stomach on the beanbag, is moving her legs off tempo. Just like her uncle, that one, no feel for the music whatsoever.

“Alright, let’s…rewind.” Maddie clears her throat, and her hand, this time, is much more tender on her brother’s arm. “What did you come here to tell me?”

Buck looks back at her. He takes a breath and tries to put it to words. Fails. Once more. Fails again. He squeezes his eyes shut, and wonders: why is it so hard to tell his sister about this?

Maybe he fears she might judge him, for adopting another man’s child?

Maybe she’d think he’s a bad father, letting a stranger adopt his daughter?

He doesn’t know, but what he knows is that he has to tell her.

“I…” he clears his throat too, takes a gulp of juice. “Eddie and I…” he exhales, inhales deeply. “Okay. Eddie and I adopted each other’s kids. Chris is now my son too, and Artie is Eddie’s daughter too.”

Maddie blinks at him, and gapes a bit. With Bluey in the background, it almost looks like the worst playback in History.

Then, her hand tightens around his wrist. “You…adopted Christopher. And Eddie adopted Artemis.” He nods, fearing her reaction once she’s fully computed the news. “Why?”

Why.

Without the tone of her voice, he’d have interpreted that word as judgey; but Maddie is merely curious, and there’s a hint of a smile on her lips, so he explains.

“Chris was sad not to share a name with his sister.”

Maddie’s eyes fill with tears. She’s more emotional, because of the baby, but he knows she’d probably be teary any other time too. She always looks like she’s drowning in love whenever he talks about Chris being the best big brother. “Of course he wasn’t…” she chuckles. “And you and Eddie…just like that?”

His brow furrows. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t…talk about it more than that?”

“Why would we? As you know, we already do everything else, and already are each other’s proxies and emergency contacts and what-not… This was easy, in comparison.”

Maddie snorts again, then dissolves into a laughter so loud and incontrollable that Jee-Yun turns to her mom, and joins her hilarity, despite not understanding why she’s laughing.

Buck feels betrayed.

His sister, wheezing, giggles out a “You truly are the biggest morons on this planet” before laughing some more.

Yeah.

His sister’s the worst.

When he gets home that night, the children are already in bed, and a few of Isabel’s apple enchiladas have been left for him on the kitchen counter. He cling-films them and leaves them for tomorrow’s breakfast.

Eddie’s reading in bed, or rather, looking at blogs of interior designs. Searching for his next inspiration for a painting, no doubt.

Buck freezes a bit in the doorway. He’s alone with Eddie. In their bedroom, without a baby to act as a buffer.

They’re alone, at night, on the same evening where his big sister has tried to nail home the point that he needs to tell Eddie he loves him, wants to kiss him all the time, and wants to have his babies.

So he freezes there, and stares a good long while.

Eddie is always breathtaking, but in the golden light of their reading lamp, with his hair soft and messy, he’s…otherworldly.

“Chris tried to stay awake for you, but he fell asleep watching WWE.”

Buck unfreezes and moves to the dressing room to grab his PJs. “I’ll see him tomorrow morning.” And he’s going to hug his son so damn tight Chris is going to have to fight for him to let go. Then, Buck’s going to make him his favourite blueberry pancakes. Because he’s his son.

“Abuela and Pepa weren’t happy you weren’t there. They wanted to hug you. So, you better go there before the week is over.”

“Eddie, it’s Friday.”

“Yeah, and?”

Buck looks over his shoulder to glare at his friend and catches the mischievous smile on Eddie’s lips. He also kind of sees Eddie’s brown eyes run down the length of his bare back; but it must have been a trick of the light.

“Maddie says hi too. By the way.”

“I know. She texted me as soon as you left her house.”

Buck feels all colour leave his face, but he carries on facing the opposite wall. “Oh? What did she say?” He knows he sounds terrified, but can’t hide it.

Eddie chuckles. “Confidential stuff, I’m afraid. Hey, I was thinking, since we’re trying giving Artie her first solids next week, are we starting with sweet potato or zucchini?”

Buck finishes getting dressed, and joins Eddie in bed, though he feels so much more aware of the lack of distance between them since That™ happened, it’s almost torture. He makes sure he’s as close to the edge as possible, and thankfully Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

Those brown eyes leave the screen, and Buck loses himself in them for a while, before realising he hasn’t answered. “Uh…I think zucchini’s better. Then sweet potato, and maybe pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin alone is a weird texture, though, isn’t it?”

Buck then realises that Eddie switched from his interior design blogs to an article about baby foods. He hums. “Then let’s mix it with carrots.”

“If she’s anything like her Papa, she’s love carrots.”

Buck chuckles. “I do like my carrots.”

Eddie chuckles back, and they’re staring at each other, in a bed, which they’re sharing, alone, at night.

Buck gulps. Panics. “Alright, well, I’m tired. Goodnight?”

Eddie’s eyes flit between his, and his mouth seems to downturn a bit. He looks…disappointed? “Okay. Goodnight, Buck.”

He switches off the light, even though the white glare of the screen still punches through the darkness. Buck turns on his side, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Maddie’s right.

He’s a moron.

On the day they intend to start Artie on solids, Bobby and Athena show up with a new cake-trial from Bobby, some mix between a chocolate fondant and a carrot cake.

(Delicious, by the way, just like everything Bobby does in his brand-new kitchen.)

Buck has been dutifully cooking and mixing up the zucchini and makes sure it’s at the right temperature before even thinking of feeding his precious princess this new type of delicacy.

Athena, who’s been walking around with her granddaughter, reluctantly puts her in her seat on top of the dining table, and Eddie shouts for Christopher to join them. The teen grumbles, pretends he’s angry to leave his video game, but the way he raises his phone to film belies his apparent grumpiness.

Bobby immediately fishes out his own phone from his pocket, and Buck, who’s taken a seat in front of Artie with the zucchini and tiny spoon, rolls his eyes.

“You know it’s not her graduation, right?” He turns to scold the would-be paparazzi and sees that Eddie has gotten his phone out too, and Athena is clinging to Bobby with a smitten look on her face Buck is sure he hasn’t seen before, not even directed at her husband.

“What?” Eddie says with a grin. “This needs to be documented.”

Buck relents. He knows that, if he wasn’t so worried that Artie is going to hate zucchini, he’d be glued to his phone too.

Her first solids.

His baby.

She’s growing up so damn fast…

The first spoonful is a comedy film in itself. Artie’s eyes widen the size of saucers once she properly tastes what she’s been fed. Her mouth forms a little O before she tries to gulp it the way she’d drink her bottle.

Some green paste escapes her mouth, Buck swiftly wipes it off, and feeds her another spoon.

This time, the little O is accompanied by wavy hands and a squeal.

Artie spits out almost as much as she eats, but it’s obvious she likes the taste of zucchini, and the spitting is more a question of technique rather than opinion.

She goes through half the recommended portion, but for a first, it’s amazing she even goes through that.

Bobby and Eddie make a show of clapping for her once she’s done, and Artie awards them one of her adorable little laughs.

Buck prepares her a bottle to make up for what food she didn’t consume, and Chris demands to feed her on the couch.

(He’s less enthused when she spits up a bit more of zucchini on his Iron Man t-shirt, though.)

((“You’re being gross, Artie!”))

(((She laughs.)))

“You know, now that the little one is settled, and that she’s going on solids, and is old enough,” Bobby starts once he and Buck are done with the dishes, “maybe she could…have a sleepover?”

Buck’s eyes snap to his father-figure. “A…sleepover?”

Bobby nods, his expression eager. “Yeah! She’s got a room at our place! It’d be nice for her to use it! We could, you know, take her for a night, and you’d come fetch her the following day and we could have a get-together at the same time! You’d get a night off baby duty!”

Buck purses his lips. “I’m…”

“Buck,” Bobby tries again, his hand going to Buck’s shoulder, “I know it’s hard letting her go, sometimes. I know. But…look, you’ve been with her every day for the past five months. You deserve a night off. And I’m her Pops, and I want to spend a sleepless night checking on my best girl and teaching her how to cook her Nana’s favourite breakfast.”

“Mmmh, what’s this about my favourite breakfast?” Athena enters the kitchen, Artie once again safely tucked in her arms, changed into a sundress with one of those cute bows. She’s looking around alertly, her big blue eyes a dead ringer to her dad’s.

“I was trying to sell Buck into leaving us the little princess for one night.”

“Ooooh…” Athena takes one of Artie’s hands and jiggles it. “You hear that, my love? You’re going to Pops and Nana’s! Yes, you are!”

“I haven’t said yes…” Buck meekly tries.

Athena’s glares have always terrified him. Always. “Well, you’re going to say yes. Because you asked us to be this little marvel’s grandparents, and as her grandparents, we are owed some quality time with our grandbaby. And you deserve some time off. A bubble bath; or a night at the club; or at the movies. Besides, we’re not talking tonight, obviously. You’re all working in the morning. But, on our next two days off, perhaps?”

Buck pictures their work schedule. They’re off next Wednesday, in four days’ time.

He sighs, relents. “Okay… But if anything goes wrong, you call me.”

“Buckaroo,” Athena coos, comes to pat him on the cheek, “nothing’s going to go wrong.”

“What’s this?” Eddie enters the kitchen too, brow raised.

Athena fills him in and, surprisingly, he doesn’t look half as worried as Buck is.

Instead, he looks…pensive.

His eyes go to the hallway, towards Chris’s room, perhaps, and Buck…is perplexed.

What has Eddie just thought about?

What Eddie thought about was that, if Artie was out for a night, then Chris ought to be too.

Buck wasn’t sure it was wise, because Artie’s sleepover is happening on a school night, and usually, Eddie is all against Chris going to a friend’s on a school night.

This time, however, he seems bent on having his son out of the house on Wednesday evening.

At first, he thinks about asking Bobby and Athena, but Harry is back with his dads in Florida, and besides, it wouldn’t be fair on them since they asked for Artie quality time.

Then, he asks Hen and Karen, but they too have plans, and they shouldn’t be their default ‘babysitter’ anyway.

Buck thinks Christopher is going to refuse flat-out to sleep over at the Hans’, but after a lengthy – and quiet – conversation with his dad on the back porch, he shrugs and says that he’ll like playing with Jee, and anyway, she’ll be in bed way earlier than him, and Chim has been talking about a new strategy board game he wants to try out.

Buck is…stunned?

A teenager, accepting to sleep at his aunt and uncle’s, where no other teenager resides?

What is going on?

On the day of, everything and everyone is off.

At least, that’s Buck’s opinion on the matter.

First, there’s Eddie. From the time he gets up – uncharacteristically earlier than Buck, even – he’s acting weird. Going from one room to the next, avoiding looking Buck in the eye, hiding his phone screen every time Buck enters the room.

At first, Buck thinks he’s on edge because of Artie leaving for the evening; but paradoxically, Eddie seems to be counting down the hours until Buck needs to go drop her off at the Grant-Nashes’.

There’s also Christopher. He keeps asking his dad to come to his room, and locks it once they’re inside. He also keeps looking at Buck with a type of smirk that he’s not sure he trusts.

And of course, there’s the fact that the teen is adamant Buck can’t take him to Maddie’s, because of stuff. Chim is therefore due to fetch him about half-an-hour after Buck has to leave.

Sus.

And then, there’s Bobby.

Bobby who, any other day, would have shoved Buck out of the house as soon as Artie was in his arms.

Instead, he looks frantic as he forces Buck onto a couch, and serves him a drink, and tries to force him to talk for a long, long, long, and awkward time.

Athena is on her phone most of that time, to escape the awkwardness, perhaps.

Buck is very suspicious.

Is this a full moon or something?

Then, Athena grins at her phone, and says to Bobby that Buck should head back home, now. He surely has some other things to do than stay with his old somewhat family members.

Yeah, Buck is very suspicious.

The first thing he notices as he fishes his key from his pocket, is the music.

A soft beat, echoing through the windows and walls, but so far unrecognizable.

Buck frowns as he gets inside the house.

The second thing he notices, is that the place is dark.

Like, super dark.

There aren’t any lights switched on, and he almost reaches for a switch before noticing the glow.

No, not the glow.

The candlelight.

There are candles  - or what happens to be LED candles, actually – spread out through the living-room and on the dining table, which has been set for two.

And that’s when he notices the third thing.

The petals.

There are red rose petals spread from the entryway to the table, where lies a fragrant bouquet Buck gets close to immediately.

He can smell orange blossom and jasmine; among other scents he doesn’t recognize.

Perhaps that’s when his brain computes what’s happening here.

Or perhaps, it takes Eddie exiting the kitchen, clad in his best velvet suit – the same he wore to that blasted poker game – for Buck to understand.

He faces his best friend, and gapes. “You… You… I—”

Eddie’s smile is soft, but also unsure, somehow. He gets close, but not as close as he usually would.

Behind them, the music continues, the song on an apparent loop.

Buck recognizes it now.

It’s the song that played the day they painted Artie’s bedroom. The song they danced to.

‘I know it’s late//But something’s on my mind.

It couldn’t wait//There’s never any time.

‘Cause life slips by without a warning

And I’m tired of ignoring//All the space that’s between you and I.’

Eddie bites his lip, comes one pace closer.

“Buck… Evan,” he breathes, while Buck stops breathing. “I’m…kind of tired of ignoring this. This feeling I’ve had for a good long while. So I’m taking a chance. And I don’t know if I chose the right time, but I hope I did. Because I…I…”

‘Let’s lock the door behind us//They won’t find us

Make the whole world wait

While we dance around this bedroom//Like we’ve only got tonight

Not about to let you//Go ‘till the morning light…’

“Evan, I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve probably been in love with you from the moment we met. And now, it’s been years, and I love you more every day. And it’s become torture, to live with you, to raise these two beautiful children with you, and not being able to hold you, or kiss you, or tell you every second that I breathe that I love you.”

‘You could be my whole world//If I could be your satellite…’

Buck feels his heart beat much faster than the slow song behind them. It beats so hard that it feels like it’s rising inside Buck’s throat and trying to escape through his mouth. To offer itself to Eddie.

Eddie, who just said he loves Buck.

Is in love with Buck.

He…

Well, he…sobs.

The sound is broken by a laugh that mixes with his tears, and he launches himself at Eddie, nearly trampling him as he pulls him into his arms.

Their mouths clack together harshly, and their teeth collide, and it’s painful, but Eddie laughs.

He pushes Buck back a bit. “Is that your idea of a kiss, Buckley?”

Buck sob-laughs again. “Apparently.”

Eddie’s hands are tender on his waist. “Let’s try again, you dork.”

Their second attempt is perfect.

Eddie’s lips fit perfectly over Buck’s, and they press together, rise and wane like the tide. Nickelback’s song starts again in the background, and Eddie sways to it while still kissing Buck like he’s a delicate flower or the most delicious dessert.

Buck is still crying, and his heart is still trying to escape his body; but he’s so happy he could burst.

He separates from Eddie simply because he needs to talk. He doesn’t want to stop kissing Eddie ever again after this.

But this needs to be said.

“I love you too, Eddie Diaz.”

Eddie laughs, almost giggles. He too sounds happy. “This would have been a bit misleading if you didn’t.”

“Shut up,” Buck groans, their foreheads pressed together. He kisses Eddie some more, deepening it until he’s finally able to tell what Eddie Diaz tastes like.

Heavenly. He tastes heavenly.

He also suspiciously tastes like tequila, so Buck thinks he might have done a shot or two to give himself courage before Buck came home.

“You did all this for me?” he whispers, their lips still connected.

Eddie hums. “Chris helped with the flowers.”

Buck huffs. “Of course he was in on it.”

“Babe, everyone was in on it.”

Buck would groan, but instead, he moans, because Eddie just called him babe.

“Come on,” Eddie says after another long and thorough kiss, “I’ve got something else for you.”

Buck moans again, but this time, like it’s painful to move away. And it is. “I don’t wanna…”

Eddie sighs, shakes his head fondly, and links their hands. “It won’t take a minute. After that, we can go back to cuddling.”

“I wanna do more than cuddling with you, Diaz.”

Eddie’s eyes are wide with happiness. He looks five years younger, at least. “That…is something I’m looking forward to. But first,” he turns to the dining table, and grabs a chocolate box from behind the vase.

Buck stares at it.

Eddie stopped kissing him to give him chocolate?

Lame.

The look on his face must translate, because Eddie laughs again. “Open it.”

Inside, Buck finds all the chocolate gone, safe for one little heart-shaped praline.

His favourite.

Eddie takes it from its cradle, and places it against Buck’s lips.

“Careful. There might be a nut inside.”

Buck wants to tell him that there aren’t any nuts in original pralines, but he’s got chocolate heaven in his mouth, so he can’t.

The praline melts on his tongue, but there’s something…

There’s something hard inside.

Buck makes a noise, and fishes the mysterious object from his mouth.

It’s a ring.

It’s a ring that’s slightly dirty because it’s coated in chocolate and saliva, but it’s a ring nonetheless.

Eddie makes a disgusted sound and produces a napkin. Buck drops the ring inside it, and Eddie wipes it thoroughly before dropping to…one knee.

“Okay. Evan Buckley. You’re the father to my child. You gave me your child. We live together. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours. I love you more than I can say. Pretty sure you’re the love of my life. So, as Christopher told me before he left, ‘will you make sure we’re all Buckley-Diazes from now on’?”

Buck snorts a laugh. “That’s the most Diaz-esque proposal I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey. I resent that. It’s the first proper proposal I’m able to do.”

Buck laughs some more.

Eddie bites his lip again. His kiss-swollen lip, because Buck was kissing him a few moments ago.

Before Eddie proposed to him.

“So?”

Buck stares into those lovely brown eyes, and sighs. “How could I say no to the love of my life?”

Eddie kisses him – enthusiastically enough that they bump into the table and threaten to make the vase fall to the floor – before he’s even put the ring on Buck’s finger.

Ultimately, he does put that ring on Buck’s finger much much later, after they’ve explored each other’s bodies much more thoroughly.

They’ve never been able to do things in the right order, anyway…

Chapter Text

The following morning finds Buck in the kitchen making breakfast.

Or, trying to.

Instead of making sure he’s not burning the eggs or overcooking the bacon, he keeps staring at his left hand, where a silver ring is now glinting.

Because Eddie proposed last night.

Eddie proposed, and Buck is still half-convinced it was a dream.

He’s put on some soft music to try and soothe his buzzing mind, so he doesn’t hear Eddie come down until he’s already standing behind him.

Strong, tender arms wrap around Buck’s waist from behind, and Eddie presses his body against his back, his head hooking over Buck’s shoulder, smooching a kiss there.

“Morning.”

Eddie sounds soft, happy.

Buck’s left hand leaves the counter and presses to one of Eddie’s on his stomach. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Overthinking again?”

Buck chuckles, presses the side of his face to Eddie’s hair. “What makes you say that?”

“Mmh… Bear’s Den, and the eggs look browner than usual.” Eddie laughs when Buck kind of panics and swears under his breath before removing the pan from the cooker.

Once the eggs are safely plated and joined by really crispy bacon, Buck turns in Eddie’s arms, and places his hands on his hips.

Eddie’s smile is blinding, his brown eyes wide like it’s a surprise to see Buck there. “Hi.”

Buck grins. “Hi.”

They lean in together, and their kiss good morning is as sweet as their very first – the proper one, at least – last night. It’s full of promises and tastes like happiness.

Eddie moans a bit, and presses closer, breaking the kiss but hugging Buck tight, the release of dopamine instant. The brunette nuzzles Buck’s shoulder, as if he’s still sleepy, or maybe chasing comfort.

Buck encompasses him in his arms, wrapping around Eddie like a cocoon while his eyes fill with tears of all the emotions that he can’t quite put a name to and that threaten to bubble out of him.

Eddie mumbles something in his skin, and he makes an enquiring noise, only for his best friend – no, his fiancé now – to lift his head and look at him with what can qualify as proper heart-eyes. “I said ‘I love you’.”

Buck grins, and a tear escapes. “I love you too.”

Eddie pecks him on the lips and reluctantly pushes away from their hug. “We should eat.”

Buck lets him, and watches him set the plates at the table, along with their coffees and some napkins, because Eddie knows how Buck eats, and wants to salvage their floors a little.

He feels overwhelmed, but in the best way possible.

It’s like the planets are finally aligned – which they have been, a few months back. Like the Universe has finally stopped screaming and is as peace.

Buck watches Eddie set the table, and realises that he’s got everything he’s ever wanted, now.

A house filled with love and character; kids he loves more than life itself; a found family he can rely on even for the smallest and silliest of things; and a partner, a fiancé, the love of his life, who loves him back.

“Come on, you sap, come and eat before we go fetch our girl from your dad’s.”

Buck chuckles, and joins Eddie. He notices with glee that they’re sitting next to each other, as opposed to on opposite sides, which means he can hook their legs and press their knees together.

Any connection to Eddie is necessary to his well-being, after all.

Eddie’s hand on his thigh proves that it goes both ways, anyway…

They ride to Bobby and Athena’s the same way they’ve been doing everything today so far: their hands entwined, keeping a point of contact at any given moment.

Eddie, passenger princess that he is, keeps stealing unsubtle looks at Buck as he drives, and kisses their linked hands more than once.

Buck smiles so wide it’s almost painful.

Bobby’s at the door as soon as they exit the car, a large grin splitting his face, a sleepy Artemis in his arms.

For the first time today, Buck lets go of Eddie, and scoops his daughter from her grandfather’s arms, smothering her in tiny kisses while Bobby greets Eddie behind them.

They’re ushered inside when Buck notices Artie’s outfit.

It’s a dress with frills in a soft orange tone and with tiny flowers embroidered on it.

He doesn’t recognize it.

He directs a weak glare to Athena, who’s just joined them all in the entryway. “’Thena…” he starts, but she interrupts with one of her infamous stares.

“Don’t,” she tuts, pointing a finger at his face. “I’m in my right to spoil my grandbaby as much as I want.”

He laughs and kisses her on her temple. “You’re the best Nana ever.”

She pats his cheek with that motherly look of hers. “I’m lucky you chose me to be this precious girl’s grandmother.”

“How did she behave?” he turns to Bobby, who smiles widely.

“She had a bit of a fright when she woke up this morning and didn’t recognize the room, I think. Otherwise, she slept like a log. Thankfully for us,” he adds with a chuckle. “And,” he puffs his chest a bit; Buck’s never seen his Captain look so smug in his life, “she likes mangoes.”

Eddie’s arm comes around Buck’s waist as he kisses Artie hello.

For a second, Buck freezes, because, well, they haven’t told anyone they’re together now.

But neither Bobby nor Athena bats an eye.

He narrows his own. “You know.”

Bobby presses a hand to his chest like a Victorian lady. “What?! Nooooo, we know nothing!”

Someone snorts from beyond the door leading to the living-room.

There weren’t any cars up front.

Those bastards parked away from the house.

“You didn’t,” he tells Athena, who looks smug too, now.

“We sure did. We’ve been waiting years for this moment, you two. Come on, now.”

She leads the way to a surprise party that isn’t very surprising, at this point.

Buck is still very happy to get swept in hugs from the firefam, all of whom want to see the ring and repeat ‘About damn time’ until it echoes in his head in a loop.

After the improvised feast that Bobby and Hen and Karen provided, and after Karen went to fetch the kids from school, Buck finds himself changing Artie in her bedroom with Chris.

“So? Do you like it?” the teen asks, prompting Buck to look at him questioningly. “The ring.”

“I do. It’s beautiful. Did you help pick it?”

Chris snorts. “Help. I only sent half a million links to Dad so he’d get the hint. Thankfully, Bobby wanting Artie for the night made him finally see sense.”

Buck frowns a bit. “You’re talking as if you’d been waiting for us to get together for a long time.”

Chris looks at him as he often does, lately: as if Buck is the most idiotic person he knows. “Buck. Papa. I’ve known you for nearly eight years, by now. You wanna know how long I’ve been waiting for my Dad to get his head out of his ass and ask you out?” Buck tries to chastise him for his profanity, but Chris barrels through it. “About five of those years. Five years of my life I won’t get back, thanks to you two being dumb as can be.” He rolls his eyes. “Honestly, I better be Dad’s best-man at the wedding, for my trouble.”

Buck snorts too, now.

But he guesses, when put like that, it does make sense for Christopher to be his father’s best-man. Because he is, their best-man.

And apparently, he’s also been trying to wingman them for a long time…

He’s rolling Artie’s little tights back up when Eddie joins them in the room.

Chris huffs. “Couldn’t bear being apart for more than five minutes, Dad?”

Eddie crosses his arms. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just wondering what took you so long.”

Chris rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not dumb. Go on, suck face for the next hour. As long as I’m not in the room. Ugh,” he makes a face, and shoulders past his dad, his crutches clacking on the floor fading as he goes back to the party.

Eddie chuckles. “Suck face? Would you like to suck face, Mr Buckley?”

Buck gestures to the baby on the table. “Not really the right time, Sir.”

Eddie laughs again, and Artie…laughs back. She’s been doing that, lately. When someone around her laughs, she laughs too.

Right now, though, it feels mostly like she’s teaming up with her dad.

Eddie takes her into his arms and deposits her in her bed with the fox plushie that never leaves her. “There. She’ll be entertained for two minutes.”

He stalks to Buck, and presses him to the changing table.

Buck hisses at the contact, then laughs. “Is this going to be the norm, now? Not that I’m complaining, you know…”

Eddie’s eyes darken, his hands digging into the pudge at Buck’s hips. “Can’t blame me if my fiancé is irresistible.”

Buck’s answering laugh is swallowed by Eddie’s kiss.

Well, if this truly does become the norm between them, he’s never going to complain…

They go home late in the evening, still buzzing with happiness and full of hearty foods. Artie tested the combo sweet-potato and carrot that Eddie has suggested, and apart from a bit of orange paste making it to Bobby’s pristine shirt, it went well.

Another win for solid foods.

Chris talks at length about the game he and Chim and Maddie played last night, a strategy game that the teenager and Buck’s sister made sure to destroy Chim at. The man demanded a rematch, of course, stating there’d been foul play, but Eddie doesn’t want his son to get used to sleepovers in the school week.

Buck once again finds himself with an Eddie-shaped leech attached to his back as he bathes Artie and puts her to bed; but he can’t say he complains about the kisses pressed to his shoulders, or the soothing hums he can feel in his spine.

Once Artie is safely tucked in, he takes a moment to bask in the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to get overwhelmed by feelings, again.

They make their way to bed, and Buck catches a very heated look thrown his way.

He groans. “Eddie, the house isn’t exactly empty, we can’t—”

The man grins like the cat that got the cream. “There’s a full floor between us and the kids, Buck. That, and a door. But, if you’d rather put more layers between us, then…” he trails off, and looks pointedly towards their dressing-room.

“The closet?” Buck chuckles. “Not the bathroom, the closet?”

Eddie’s grin is widening, if it’s possible. He stalks closer again, and takes Buck by the hands. “We are firefighters. Bathroom sex is dangerous, we know it. In the closet, however…” he winks, “I can lay you out easily.”

Buck blushes to the roots of his hair.

Honestly.

He’s the former – self-diagnosed – sex-addict, and Eddie’s the one that has the dirty mouth. Eddie. Who always hated talking about his sex life. That is, until he found out sex can be pleasurable, apparently. Now, he’s…yeah.

Dirty mouthed.

Amidst the blush, Buck gulps. “You…that’s unfair.”

Eddie chuckles, leans in to nip at Buck’s collarbone – his favourite spot, confirmed – before steering him to the separate room. “What’s unfair is you looking like that and telling me I can’t have my way with you.”

Buck lets himself be led.

Oh well.

Who cares if they’re sore all over tomorrow?

(Newsflash: having sex on the floor may be sexy, but not necessarily good on thirty-plus-year-old joints.)

Life goes on.

Nothing changes, and yet, everything has.

At work, they file the documents stating their change in relationship status; and they’re sent to a mandatory class about how to react the right way when one’s partner is in danger at work – as if they’d ever reacted the right way before – but no more than that.

Ravi takes pictures of them constantly. When they’re sitting on the couch in the loft – or rather, almost sitting on top of the other – when they’re riding in the truck, when they snap in adjoining cots with their hands intertwined, or when Eddie helps Buck with the dishes.

It’s supposed to embarrass them, but instead, Buck saves them from the group-chat into a folder, and he even prints one he really likes that he puts in his wallet.

Artie’s hair grows a shade darker than Buck’s, but as curly, and at six months, it’s long enough that he can swoop it into a kind of ponytail at the top of her head. She’s adorable.

(She’s also munching on everything that gets close enough, so he thinks she’s gonna start teething soon.)

Chris finishes the school year with honours in several subjects, and spends an entire weekend perusing flyers with his dads to decide what summer camp to enrol in. He doesn’t want to be away for too long, because he doesn’t want to miss any of Artie’s firsts, which makes Buck tear up a bit.

In the end, he decides on a programming class that’ll last ten days and that Denny is also enrolled in. Hen, Karen and Eddie are very happy to know the two boys will have each other’s backs for the duration of their trip. Buck still manages to have nightmares about everything that could go wrong.

Bobby and Athena take Artemis for sleepovers thrice more in two months’ time. Every time, Buck finds new items of clothing in his daughter’s things when she comes home. Every time, Athena refuses he complain about it.

Natalia and Lyle officially move in together, with her relocating to San Francisco. She and Buck have a standing weekly wine-call via FaceTime. Before she leaves, though, they have dinner at a restaurant along with their significant others, and she spends half the main course telling Lyle all about how he and Eddie were being dense by not getting together.

They invite her – them – to the wedding, even though they haven’t chosen a date, yet.

They have, however, planned an engagement party/baby shower for Maddie, later in June.

The garden is filled with mismatched chairs and folding tables.

The members of their extended families are there, minus, of course, the most obvious absentees: both sets of biological parents. Eddie had informed his that he and Buck were gonna get married, but the ensuing lowkey homophobic reaction had cemented his choice to keep them away from their family from now on. Buck’s parents would have come, or at least Phillip, but they’d gone on an extended holiday to Europe.

Oh well. The most important people are there, anyway.

Luisa, Pepa’s granddaughter who manages the daycare Artie goes to, has come with her girlfriend Amelia, and the latter’s daughter, Angelica. Angie’s three months older than Artie, and already waddling about on her two feet. Artemis looks very intrigued by this new means of transportation. Buck has half a mind to ask her not to start walking too soon.

She’s already crawling all around the house enough to his taste.

Isabel is fussing over Eddie, as she usually does, straightening his light grey suit and tie and pinching his cheeks. He may pretend to look annoyed, but Buck knows he absolutely worships his grandmother, and will take any moment with her as a win.

Pepa’s there too, of course, sharing a bottle of red with Karen and Linda.

May is discussing her thesis with Josh, who apparently has an extensive knowledge of psychology – who knew? – while Bobby and Athena talk with Hen and Mara.

Maddie, heavily pregnant at this point, is at a table with Jee, both drawing shapes. But Mads rubs her belly often, too often, in Buck’s opinion. He keeps an eye on her just in case.

The most surprising piece of this get-together, really, is Ravi and Albert. Obviously, since this is as much a party for Maddie than it is for Buck and Eddie, Albert was invited, and to try and prove he’s the better uncle, he flew over from Seoul and intends to stay until niece #2 is born.

Yeah, if he’d just come for that, Buck would have been happy.

He didn’t really expect Albert and Ravi to have the strangest, quickest love at first sight thing ever, and to start snogging in Buck’s garden about five minutes after they met.

It’s…a disturbing sight, to say the least.

(Considering they’ve taken two chairs to the corner and have still yet to separate to breathe.)

“You know, I’d been picturing this moment for a long time, but my imagination really didn’t do it justice.”

An arm snakes around Buck’s waist. He leans down to kiss Eddie’s temple, still watching Chris play with Artie on the blanket they spread on the grass.

“You’d been picturing this, huh?” Buck teases, snaking his own arm around his fiancé. “For how long, Mr Diaz?”

Eddie pecks him on the lips. “You don’t want to know.”

Buck’s brow furrows. “Oh, now I do want to know.” He turns in Eddie’s embrace to face him. “How long exactly have you been picturing our engagement party, Edmundo?”

Eddie’s eyes tinge pink. For some reason, he really likes Buck saying his full name. Mostly in the safety of their bedroom, though. “I…you’re gonna… You might not like the answer.”

Buck hums. “The longer you don’t tell me, the worse my mind can spiral, you know that.”

“Right. Okay.” Eddie blushes further, his cheeks adorably pink. “Okay, I’ve been thinking of marrying you, passively, mind you, ever since…the well.” Buck’s eyes widen. “But! I only bought the ring after the lightning strike, I swear!”

Buck gapes for a few seconds, before choking on a laugh. “Either way, Eddie! You’ve been thinking about getting married for five years?! And were actually going to propose more than two years ago?!”

Eddie laughs too, buries his face in Buck’s chest for a second. “I’m glad I didn’t, though.” At Buck’s curious noise, he looks back up. “If I had proposed back then, Artie wouldn’t have been born.”

Both of them look towards their kids. Chris is sitting on the blanket, and Artie is sat between his stretched legs. He’s playing out some sort of story with two animal puppets, and Artie is trying to catch them and squealing loudly.

Buck sighs. “I couldn’t see my life without her in it…”

“Me neither.” Eddie kisses Buck on the neck. “But, you know… We have an extra room in the house?”

“Mmh?” Buck looks into those wide, lovely, expressive brown eyes he loves so much. “Your art room?”

“My art room can move into the garage, we don’t use it for our cars, anyway.” Eddie’s gaze turns mischievous. “That’d give us an empty bedroom. So sad…”

Buck finally catches up and brings his silly man into his arms. “Oh? Yes, I suppose, so sad. We should remedy that…”

“Maybe even immediately,” Eddie adds in a whisper.

Buck chuckles. “Alas, I don’t think it’s gonna take.”

Eddie pouts. “We should still make sure. Just in case.”

There, in the middle of their garden, surrounded by their family and friends, watching their children live their best life, Buck kisses his future husband, his silly, romantic, horny future husband.

He couldn’t be happier if he tried.

Chapter Text

On Buck’s 34^th birthday, Maddie goes into labour.

The following day, after nearly 22 hours, she gives birth to a little girl she and Chimney decide to call Dani.

Buck spends half an hour crying in Artie’s stomach when he gets the call, with Eddie awkwardly patting his back, and Chris shaking his head at him until he’s gotten enough and demands to be taken to his new little cousin.

Artie looks very interested in the new baby, who’s much fussier than she was. It’s as though she’s wondering if she ever looked that way.

Dani has a good set of lungs on her, that Buck attributes to her father entirely.

She’s got Chim’s dark hair and slanted eyes, but she’s got Maddie’s nose.

She’s also got a birthmark, just like her cousin, situated at her right elbow.

“Yeah, she’s totally a Buckley, that one,” he coos before introducing himself to the hangry new addition to the family.

Two days later, Maddie goes home, and is welcomed by the rest of the extended family, plus, of course, her and Buck’s parents.

Margaret fusses over Maddie and the baby just like she did when Jee-Yun was born. Buck tries – and fails – not to compare it to the way she acted when she learnt about Artie’s existence at all.

Phillip snaps a lot of photos, both of Dani and of the other kids too, including one where Jee is holding Artie on her knees, her little face scrunched up in concentration as she holds tight onto her baby cousin – who’s gotten squirmier, to her credit.

At one point, after checking a blanket is properly wrapped around Maddie on the couch, Margaret smiles and tuts.

“Another girl! At one point, one of you will have to consider having a boy, to keep the name going.”

Buck feels it like a knife to the gut.

His eyes go to Christopher, who blessedly wasn’t close enough to hear the absolutely stupid opinion of his somewhat grandmother.

He’s two seconds away from bursting an artery, when his father intervenes.

“Don’t be an idiot, Margaret,” he says snappily. “We have a grandson already.” He turns to Buck and smiles a little apologetically before looking at Eddie. “Is Christopher excited for his summer camp? I read on it, it’s got good reviews.”

Margaret purses her lips and glares at her husband’s back, but she doesn’t argue with him.

Buck feels that knife twist in his stomach as he looks at his ‘mother’. She’s only his mom in blood and never in deeds. He wishes it was easy to let go of the pain every time he has to see her…

At nine months and eighteen days, Artemis starts to walk.

Buck is in the art room with Eddie, discussing where to place the latest of Eddie’s sceneries, when Chris calls for them from the living-room.

“Papa, Dad! Come quick! Artie’s walking!”

They both run out of the room in a tumble of limbs.

Sure enough, Artie is on her playmat, standing on her two feet as she’s started to do a while back, now. She’s holding on the foot of the coffee table and her blue eyes are squinted as she focusses, apparently, on a plastic cube that’s been thrown a bit further in the room.

She’s taken a shaky step forward, and when her dads arrive, she takes another.

Another step makes her nearly fall, and she stares at the table before making the executive decision to let go of it. Focussing back on her objective, she steps forward once more.

Buck is crying, the scene before him barely registering because he’s too busy being emotional AF. Thankfully, Christopher has more sense than both his fathers, and is filming with his phone.

Artie takes another two steps, and once her foot isn’t on the mat anymore, she stumbles. Buck half-reaches for her, but with an ‘Ah!’ that’s far too frustrated not to be cute, his daughter pushes back on the ground and stands back up.

Another three steps, and she’s reached the cube. She then lets herself fall butt first onto the floor, and starts munching on the plastic.

Cheers and congratulations erupt in the room, startling Artie who stares at her family as if they’re out of their minds, but she lets them twirl her around and kiss her tiny face before weakly complaining and asking to be put back down.

Eddie turns towards Chris. “Can I see?”

They both watch the video play back, while Buck looks at Artie munching on her cube.

Eddie laughs. “She walks like you, mijo.”

Chris groans, rolls his eyes, and nudges his dad in the ribs. “So funny, Dad. You should be a comedian.”

Buck laughs with them.

Artemis can walk.

It takes him two seconds to turn the achievement into a grave safety issue.

They need to finish babyproofing the rest of the house. Stat.

Artemis Buckley celebrates her first birthday surrounded by her loving family, in her fathers’ backyard.

She’s buried under new clothes and toys, and her auntie May spends half the afternoon glued to her side to ‘make up for lost time’.

Another sunny and lovely day in the life for the 118.

In early December, Bobby gets a minor scare at work when a building collapses and he nearly receives a piano on his head – nearly, because he saw it coming and threw himself away.

He decides to retire for good, this time, after discussing it at length with his team.

Hen subsequently formally applies for the post of Captain.

Athena lasts four months before she agrees to retire to a Captaincy too, which means she’s nearly never on the field anymore.

Harry graduates around the same time and decides to work at Dispatch. Josh, who replaced Sue as head of the department, becomes even more of a fixture at family gatherings. In time, he introduces his boyfriend, then fiancé, then husband, then baby daddy Abi.

Buck, then Eddie, turns 35.

Chris turns 16, but doesn’t want to learn how to drive just yet (both his dads are very happy about that).

Artie turns 2.

In early 2027, the 118 is called for a small fire at an animal rescue shelter.

Buck takes one look at a black Labrador that’s got a burn on his paw, and decides he’s now their dog. Eddie tries to resist but ultimately doesn’t.

They therefore welcome Charlie in the family.

Chris trains him to bring him snacks when he’s too lazy to leave his room.

Eddie scolds him.

Buck secretly thinks it’s genius.

In August, when Artie is two and a half, Buck and Eddie finally get married.

The decision was made partly because Isabel’s health is declining, and Eddie wants his grandmother to give him away.

Chris is best man, as promised. Artie is the flower girl. Maddie is Buck’s best woman. Bobby officiates. Charlie brings in the rings. Ravi and Albert document by filming almost everything, that is, until they disappear mid-party to go suck face.

Buck’s vows are three pages long and make everyone in attendance laugh and cry. Eddie’s are much shorter, but no less beautiful. Eddie doesn’t need a thousand words to tell the world how much he loves his husband.

Their first dance is to Satellite by Nickelback.

Chris gets a girlfriend at 17, then promptly gets dumped right after New Year’s.

Artie, now three, is very vehement about the whole thing.

The moment she sees her brother sad on the couch, she climbs on his lap and nearly screeches “Who was mean to Kiss?”.

(She can’t say ‘Chris’ properly yet, so he’s Kiss. It’s too cute.)

Chris chuckles wetly. “No one, Artie.”

She presses her hands to her brother’s cheeks, wet with tears. “Kiss sad. Who was mean?”

He laughs again, squirms under her sticky hands. “It’s nothing, Artie… I’ll be okay.”

“Smooch to make better?”

“Yeah…”

Buck watches his nearly grown-up son melt under his sister’s hug and kisses. Chris still cries a bit, but he keeps Artie close on his lap the whole time.

Artie starts school and immediately antagonizes two other girls who tug on her dresses and say she can’t have two dads, that she’s stupid.

Eddie is called to preschool to clarify the situation and ask Artie’s teacher to be attentive to those kinds of stupid words, which can hurt, especially small children.

It happens again, then once more.

Eddie and Buck decide to transfer their daughter elsewhere.

Buck homeschools until they find the prefect place. He gets a newfound and profound respect for teachers everywhere after these few weeks.

Chris learns to drive on Buck’s Jeep.

He gets it as a Christmas present. He’s elated.

Now 18, he’s got a new girlfriend, Molly, who’s polite and well-educated, who loves Marvel and Legos. She’s allergic to dogs, though. That’s a bit more of a bother when they want to have dinner with her and her single mom.

Buck buys an automatic vacuum cleaner to help keep up with Charlie’s shedding.

Artie breaks it by trying to use it as a vehicle while playing in the living-room.

Natalia and Lyle get married, invite Buck and Eddie over with the kids.

Artie is four when Nat introduces her as ‘her friend’s baby that she grew in her own womb’. Artie subsequently starts to call her a witch, not in the same way as Chris once did, but because she’s amazed that this lady could grow a whole baby for her dads.

(As far as she’s concerned, it was immaculate conception, and she’s too young to learn about the birds and the bees.)

Nat plays along, and even joins them for Halloween that year, after she and Lyle relocated back to L.A. near where all the Buckley-Diazes live. She dresses up as Hermione Granger, Artie as Luna Lovegood.

(She’s too young to read or watch Harry Potter, but Chris likes to tell her an abridged version when he tucks his sister to sleep.)

“Oi, hubbies! A little help, here?”

Joanna Strickell, their new probie, calls from the bay doors.

Buck, who was massaging Eddie’s shoulders – that have been bothering him more, lately, he must be getting old – looks up and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong, Jo?”

“There’s a fricking baby near the trash!”

At that, Buck jumps to his feet, and Eddie follows him as he runs outside.

Sure enough, there’s a basket with a baby near the trash containers. Joanna was on cleaning duty, she must have spotted the little babe as she took out the trash.

Buck scoops the little thing out of the basket.

The baby’s swaddled in a blanket that’s seen better days, and is young. Like, probably only a few hours old. If not premature.

Buck runs back inside, Eddie on his tail, and they lay the baby on the table in the loft. Eddie gets his kit, and starts checking the vitals.

“It’s a boy,” he whispers absent-mindedly when they’ve unwrapped the poor thing.

He’s soiled himself and is not wearing a diaper. Buck runs to the ambulance to fetch some of their emergency stash.

At this point, the whole team has gathered around Eddie. Hen lets him finish checking on the little boy, but asks for anything that could help identify him: beauty marks, birthmarks, scars, anything. They find none.

She goes to call Social Services, and Chim and Ravi argue for all of ten minutes before the latter leaves to go buy some formula and urgent care products.

Eddie swaddles the baby back in a clean blanket, and starts rocking him to calm him down.

Buck wraps an arm around his husband, who looks at him and immediately frowns.

“Buck… Baby… No.”

Buck pouts. “But… We have the room. And…he’s all alone.”

Eddie sighs. “You’re incorrigible. Let Social Services handle this first, you big oaf. Hey, little prince? That’s my Buck for you: always impulsive.”

Buck groans, hooks his head over Eddie’s shoulder to watch the baby boy settle and fall asleep.

They ultimately find the boy’s family – teen pregnancy, pregnancy denial, the horrible combo of it all – and little Jeremy is given back to his grandparents.

They send photos over for a few months, to make sure the firefighters who saved their grandson know he’s loved and cared for.

Buck mourns for all of two days, before Eddie presents him with papers to file for adoption.

Christopher turns 20; Artie turns 6.

She can read, now, so Buck and Eddie sit both their kids down on a weekend when Chris is over from college, and show them a garland that, once unfolded, reveals a name.

Artie furrows her brow – it makes her look eerily like her father – and deciphers the letters slowly.

“B-E-N-J-A-M-I-N. Benjamin.” She looks up, and her blue eyes light up. “Is our little brother named Benjamin?”

Eddie presses a kiss to Buck’s temple. “He is. We are meeting him on Monday.”

Artie jumps up and down for a good ten minutes, before plopping back onto Chris’s lap – her favourite place to be. Her big brother kisses her hair, and chuckles. “You know what that means, though, eh, Sprout?”

(The nickname made a come back once it was clear Artie was growing like a weed.)

She frowns again. “No?”

Chris tickles her. “You’re definitely going to be outnumbered.”

Artie pauses, her nose upturned.

Her dads observe, smiling mischievously, knowing that she’s going to come up with something.

She doesn’t disappoint.

She looks up at Chris, and grins (that makes her look like Eddie a lot). “It’s okay. Dani and I can still beat you at Mario Kart anyway.”

She giggles as he tries to tickle her some more, and she flees to her room.

Chris laughs for a few more moments, before looking back at his dads. “So… Another boy, eh?”

Eddie smiles, wide and happy. “For now.”

Chris’s eyes widen. “For now?”

Buck grins too, chuckles. His hand squeezes Eddie’s, their wedding rings clanking together in some sort of greeting. “Well, you see, we figured: you’re not home a lot anymore, and soon, you’ll move out altogether. We want to properly convert the garage into a studio, both for your dad to paint in, and for you to sleep in when you visit.”

Eddie adds “So, your room is gonna be vacant.”

“And that’s a shame,” Buck continues.

Eddie nods. “A crying shame.”

They smile at each other, and Buck leans in to kiss his husband tenderly.

Chris groans. “You are so disgusting.”

Buck chuckles against Eddie’s lips. When they part, he looks at their son and placates him with a “You wanted us to get together. You’re only reaping what you sowed, Mister.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but his wide smile is belying the move.

The Buckley-Diazes.

A happy, growing, loving family.

That’s not gonna stop growing, if Buck has any say in the matter.

(It’s just such a shame that the normal way of making babies doesn’t work for him and Eddie. Oh, well… They keep on practising, anyway, just in case…)