Chapter 4
Buck
14th June
The hum of the pressure washer masked most of the noise. He liked that about it—liked the excuse it gave him to focus on something simple, something mechanical. The fire truck gleamed under his careful hands, and the rhythmic hiss and scrub filled just enough space in his brain to feel like peace.
Then he heard it—laughter, drifting faintly across the bay.
“…I’m just saying, that mole sauce was so good. I would bathe in it,” Hen said, somewhere behind him, teasing and bright.
“You’re insane,” Chimney replied, mid-chuckle. “It was all about that beef dish. What was it called again? The, uh, something roja?”
“Oh! The one Karen stole off my plate?”
“That’s the one!”
Buck slowed slightly, pausing with the hose in one hand. He glanced over his shoulder—not fully turning, just enough to see them standing near the kitchen doorway, coffee mugs in hand, still in half-uniform. Easy. Comfortable. A private joke still lingering between them.
He frowned.
Beef dish? Karen?
He thought back—he hadn’t heard anything about a group dinner. Then he remembered, he was feeling guilty about not being around for Mara, so had asked Karen if he could take the kids for the evening. Then Maddie told him that Jee missed him, and he had jumped at the chance to have some noise in his silent house.
Hen elbowed Chimney. “I still can’t believe Maddie made it through the whole evening without falling asleep in her plate.”
“She didn’t even make a dent in her churros.”
“She was determined. Athena said she looked like she was staging a hostage negotiation with that dessert menu.”
And then Bobby’s voice joined the conversation, coming in from the other bay.
“Morning,” he called out, voice carrying that warm, dad-tone everyone always seemed to settle into without thinking.
Hen perked up. “Bobby! Athena like the cocktails? I’ve been dying to know. That second one had, like, twelve ingredients.”
“She loved them,” Bobby said with a grin. “Said she hasn’t felt that fancy since the cruise from hell.”
Buck’s grip on the hose tightened. Something cold slipped down his spine.
Bobby and Athena were there too?
He looked down at the water pooling around the truck’s tires.
It wasn’t just dinner. It was everyone. A group thing.
Everyone but him.
He blinked a few times, but the familiar sting pressed in anyway. He tried to push it down—to rationalize it. It was last minute, but they clearly knew he wouldn’t have been able to come.
He quietly turned the hose off, coiled it, and started wiping down the chrome with a soft cloth—methodical, careful. Like maybe if he polished hard enough, it would scrub the feeling out of his chest.
No one noticed him standing just ten feet away.
The next 48 hours passed like a slow, underwater blur.
Buck showed up. He always did. He did his checks, his gear maintenance, helped cook, rotated the medical supplies. But he didn’t joke, didn’t linger in the kitchen or sprawl out on the beanbags in the rec room like usual.
He kept his headphones in—not enough to block out the alarm if it rang, just enough to give him a buffer. Just enough to stop people from talking to him unless they had to.
And the truth was, no one really did. They were busy. They laughed and bantered and teased each other between calls. Sometimes Hen passed him in on the stairs and gave a distracted smile. Once, Chimney asked if he’d seen the socket wrench.
That was about it.
And so, Buck did what he always did when it got too loud inside his head—he slipped beneath the surface.
He finished his chores. He responded when spoken to. He stayed in the background, like furniture. Reliable, sturdy, unnoticed.
By the end of the shift, his neck ached from tension and his fingers were twitching for yarn.
Back home, he didn’t even bother changing out of his joggers. He dropped his bag by the door, made a mug of peppermint tea he wouldn’t drink, and sank into the far corner of the couch like gravity had finally won.
He pulled his crochet basket into his lap and pulling out a couple of balls of yarn. The stitch came easy. Muscle memory. Over, under, loop, pull.
A few hours later, he was halfway through the border of the baby blanket now—soft lilac with a cloud-white trim. The one before this was seafoam green. The one before that, pale peach.
He wasn’t sure how many he’d made. He wasn’t even sure what he would eventually do with them. Maybe donate them to the hospital. But they were also for the silence. For the ache in his chest that needed something warm to come out of his hands.
The yarn didn’t forget him. The yarn didn’t talk around him.
He crocheted into the stillness of his apartment, the only sound the gentle brush of yarn against his fingers and the occasional breath he forgot he was holding.
As he began to finish the row, he got the email from Dr Copeland; she had made the appointment for him to meet the dogs for later that week.
Chris
17th June
The late afternoon sun draped itself across the hardwood floor in lazy golden strips. Chris sat on the living room rug with his back propped against the couch, game controller in hand, a half-eaten bag of popcorn wedged between his knees. He could hear his dad in the kitchen, humming along to a playlist Chris had made for him. Something chill. Background noise for meal prep.
Diego was here too—again. He was stretched out in the armchair, texting with one hand, occasionally tossing back comments about the game Chris was playing like he was paying attention. He wasn’t. But Chris didn’t care.
Well. He mostly didn’t care.
“Left flank, little dude,” Diego said without looking up. “He’s gonna blindside you.”
Chris didn’t bother replying. He already knew.
He took the hit, respawned, and leaned back with a sigh, controller loose in his hands.
El Paso had been good. Better than he expected. The new school wasn’t terrible, he’d made a couple of solid friends online and in real life. The place was nice, his dad was around more, and the fridge was always stocked with weird health drinks that Diego insisted were “totally transformative.” Diego was good fun, but Chris was beginning to get tired of Diego practically living at their house.
But underneath all of that—under the newness, the calm—was the itch.
It was small at first. A tug in his gut. A flicker of something he couldn’t quite name.
Now, it was a weight.
He missed home.
He missed the sunshine that didn’t come with a side of grey clouds. He missed spontaneous firehouse visits and hearing Bobby call him “kiddo” like it was a title. He missed Jee screaming about dragons and Mara bossing them all around with her clipboard. He missed his friends.
He missed Buck.
Even now, thinking about him stirred something warm and sad in his chest. The way he sat through every single Marvel movie rewatch, even the ones he secretly hated. The way he looked at Chris like he wasn’t a problem to solve—but a person to be listened to. And more than anything, he missed how Buck looked at his dad. Like he saw every good part of him—even the ones Eddie couldn’t see himself.
Chris glanced toward the kitchen. His dad was still humming, flipping something in a pan. He looked relaxed. Lighter.
Happy?
Chris wasn’t sure. Not really. Not in the way that mattered.
Diego cracked a joke—something about the way Chris kept dying in the game—but Chris only half-heard it. Diego was fine. Cool enough. Always upbeat, always ready with a weird fact or a spontaneous hike. But he was always here. Like, always.
And Chris was beginning to notice how his dad’s smile sometimes looked more like a reflex than the real thing when Diego was around.
He could deal. For now. He didn’t want to ruin it. He figured maybe Eddie needed more time—to settle, to find his feet, to get used to this new version of their life. Maybe if Chris said something too soon, it would make everything unravel again. He didn’t want that.
His dad was trying.
Trying so hard it almost hurt to watch.
But still.
Chris shifted on the rug and grabbed his phone. He opened his texts, scrolled until he hit the thread with Denny and Henry.
Chris:
You think I’m crazy if I say I kinda wanna come home? Dad hasn’t said anything in a while
It only took a few seconds.
Denny:
Come back asap. Mara’s planning a full-scale dragon battle with Jee at the next bbq
Harry:
Buck's gonna wear the tiara again lmao
Chris:
Might not make it back in time for this one, but definitely for the next. I'm gonna force Dad to bring me back
Harry, send me photos
Chris smiled, just a little.
He glanced back at his dad, who was laughing now—probably at something Diego said—and stirred the pan again like nothing in the world was wrong.
Chris' heart tugged sideways.
He opened a new message. His thumb hovered over Buck’s name for a second. Then changed his mind.
Not yet.
Soon.
But not yet.
Buck
20th June
The air inside the centre smelled faintly of treats, leather, and freshly vacuumed floors—a warm, almost clinical scent, if that made sense. The walls were adorned with pictures of dogs in various harnesses and uniforms, each looking proud and well-trained.
Buck tried to swallow the lump in his throat, half wondering if he was going to look ridiculous in front of the trainers. He hadn’t exactly felt like himself lately—too heavy, too distant, like a version of him that had been worn down over the years.
But today, he was here to meet a few dogs who could change that.
The trainer, a woman named Sarah, greeted him with a soft smile and led him into a spacious room with low furniture and soft mats. "Let me introduce you to a few dogs," she said gently. "We'll see how they interact with you, what kind of bond you form. It’ll help us decide which one would be the best fit for you."
Buck nodded, feeling a little out of place. He’d read up on it, but it was different being here in person.
The first dog was Bear, a towering 2-year-old German Shepherd. He had deep amber eyes that studied Buck the second he walked into the room, tail swishing, ears alert. There was an undeniable intelligence in his gaze, the kind that made Buck feel like he was being seen, like this dog was already taking him in, evaluating his every move.
"Hey there, buddy," Buck murmured, crouching slightly to the dog’s level.
Bear padded over with a measured grace, sniffing Buck’s hand before gently licking the palm of his hand. Buck smiled, the warmth of the dog’s attention settling something in his chest.
Sarah spoke as Bear sat at Buck’s feet. "German Shepherds like Bear are excellent for deep pressure therapy—they’re known for being intuitive and protective. They can help with grounding you when you’re dissociating, and they’re also active, so if you need a dog that can keep up with your lifestyle, he’s a great fit."
Buck scratched Bear behind the ears, nodding. The idea of Bear at his side, helping him through moments of panic or overwhelm, felt... comforting. Familiar, even. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that—having someone there, calm and steady, when everything else seemed to fall apart.
"That’s great," Buck said softly, still running his hand through Bear’s thick coat. "I’m pretty active. I like running, hiking—stuff like that. A dog who could keep up would be important to me." He gave Bear an appreciative look, and the dog gave him a subtle nudge with his nose, almost as if to say I’ve got you.
"Definitely," Sarah agreed, watching the interaction closely. "Bear would do great with that. Let’s see how he responds when you’re more active."
Buck stood up slowly, trying to keep his movements fluid, not wanting to disrupt the bond that was starting to form. "Alright, Bear," he said, taking a few steps back. "Let’s see what you’ve got."
The German Shepherd followed with a quick, fluid motion, keeping a few steps behind but never letting Buck out of his sight. They walked around the room a few times, Bear gliding with purpose, and it was hard not to smile. There was something comforting in the dog’s presence—like a steady, unwavering force.
Next, Sarah introduced Gracie, a friendly brown Labrador with a sweet disposition. She was smaller than Bear, with soft, wavy fur and a bit more energy. Gracie immediately bounded over, wagging her tail and circling Buck enthusiastically. Her demeanor was softer, more playful, but it didn’t have the same grounding presence that Bear had offered.
"Gracie’s more of a social butterfly," Sarah explained, observing Buck’s reaction. "She’d be great if you needed emotional support and a companion who’s affectionate and outgoing. But she may not be as calm in a crisis, though she’s a fantastic companion overall."
Buck bent down and let Gracie lick his hand, a light laugh escaping him at her enthusiasm. "You’re a friendly one, huh? I often get called a golden retriever by my work colleagues, but you are very bouncy." he said, scratching behind her ears.
But while Gracie’s warmth was easy and comforting, it wasn’t the stillness he felt with Bear. That was something Buck needed. Something a little more grounded.
The third dog was Sabrina, a sleek and intelligent Border Collie. She was quiet, observant, and never once broke eye contact with Buck. Sabrina’s breed was known for being smart, energetic, and highly trainable. She was definitely active, but there was a certain intensity to her that Buck wasn’t sure would fit the calm he craved.
"She’s great for someone who wants an active dog that can keep up," Sarah explained, glancing over at Buck. "But Border Collies are extremely intelligent and can sometimes be a bit too much for someone who needs a dog to help with anxiety or stress. They tend to think a lot, and can get a little wound up."
Buck crouched down to Sabrina’s level, letting her sniff him. Her sharp, intelligent eyes flicked from him to the room, constantly analyzing everything around her. While her energy was clear, it felt too busy. Like Sabrina might be too high-strung for the kind of emotional grounding he needed.
"She’s amazing, but..." Buck trailed off, his fingers brushing the soft fur on her neck. "I don’t think she’s quite what I’m looking for."
Finally, they introduced Jade, a beautiful mix of Labrador and German Shepherd. She was quieter than Gracie but with the same gentle, affectionate demeanor. Her coat was sleek, a deep chocolate brown with black accents, and she had the same alert but calm presence that Buck had felt with Bear.
Jade’s energy was calm but not overly subdued. She was intuitive without being overwhelming. She’d stay by his side, not pushing, just being present.
She followed him the way Bear had, staying a few steps behind but never too far away, her eyes constantly tracking his movements. There was a comforting presence in her stillness, like she could sense when Buck needed space or when he needed grounding.
"Jade’s also a great fit," Sarah said as Jade nudged Buck’s leg. "She’s a great balance—active but not overbearing, intuitive without being too intense. She’d be perfect for your lifestyle."
Buck paused for a moment, standing still with Jade at his side. He rubbed her head, and she leaned into his touch.
"She’s... definitely up there," he admitted softly. "But there’s something about Bear. I think I’m leaning toward him."
Sarah smiled gently. "It’s all about the connection. And I think you two are a good match."
Buck nodded. The weight of it all felt a little lighter now. He could almost picture Bear by his side, the deep pressure therapy when he dissociated, the companionship when the world felt too loud. He smiled to himself.
"Yeah," he said, eyes on Bear as the dog sat by his feet, looking up at him like he knew exactly what Buck needed. "I think Bear’s the one."
21st June
The warm, golden light of late afternoon stretched across Bobby and Athena’s backyard. The sun was beginning to dip lower, painting everything in a soft, amber hue as laughter and chatter filled the air. The kids, as always, were running around the yard, their energy infectious as they played tag, hide-and-seek, and various other games that required no real rules. Their high-pitched voices rang out in joy.
Bobby stood by the grill, flipping burgers and checking on the sausages. He was in his element, focused but with a relaxed air. The scent of sizzling meat mixed with the faint sound of the kids playing in the distance.
Inside, Maddie and Athena were seated at the kitchen table, talking more about work than about the BBQ. Maddie had just finished telling Athena about an amusing call she’d received earlier that week.
“So, this elderly gentleman was convinced that pixies were stealing his TV remote,” Maddie laughed, sipping her drink. “He even gave me a full description of them—tiny, mischievous little things, stealing his favorite remote to watch... what was it again? Oh, right—the news.”
Athena chuckled, shaking her head. “Pixies? Really? I thought we’d outgrown that age.”
Maddie shrugged. “People hold onto some wild beliefs, and that one... I don’t know, just stuck with me. I almost asked if I could borrow the pixies for a bit—they probably have some tricks for getting through a busy workday.”
They both laughed, the conversation a welcome distraction from the bustle outside.
On the deck, May and Ravi were deep into a convoluted card game, the rules clearly made up on the fly. Ravi was trying to keep up, but May was focused and way ahead, tossing cards down with a confident grin.
"Okay, this card can’t be combined with that one! You need to pick another combination,” May insisted, leaning forward.
Ravi frowned, clearly losing track. "Wait, but didn’t you just say… never mind. You’re too good at this."
"Just try to keep up," she teased, flipping another card.
Meanwhile, outside by the grill, Chimney, Hen, and Karen were mixing up drinks, laughing together as they tried a new cocktail recipe that Hen had found on TikTok. Karen had a bottle of gin in her hand, squinting at her phone to double-check the measurements while Chimney stirred a concoction in a pitcher.
“This is definitely the fun drink for today,” Hen said, a mischievous smile on her face. “The kind of thing that will get Chimney to combine interpretive dance and karaoke again.”
Chimney snorted. “God, no. I’ll never recover from that.”
Karen raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
Hen grinned. “Don’t even ask. Let’s just say Chimn’s ‘I Will Survive’ rendition is going down in family history.”
The trio chuckled, but Karen’s gaze drifted to the garden where Buck was sitting with Jee and Mara. The kids were happily pretending to battle dragons and host tea parties, while Buck seemed to be smiling—but his eyes were distant. It was subtle, but Karen couldn’t help but notice it. Buck was trying, but the energy that he usually had, the spark of joy when he played with the kids, wasn’t quite there today.
She leaned closer to Hen and Chimney, who were busy stirring and mixing, her voice lowered. “Hey, have you two noticed that Buck’s been... quieter? He's not as engaged with the kids as usual. It’s like he’s faking it.”
Hen shot a quick glance over at Buck. Chimney, with his usual laid-back demeanor, didn’t seem as concerned. “Nah, he’s probably just a little tired. You know how he gets after lots of long shifts one after another.”
Karen wasn’t convinced, but Hen nodded along. “Yeah, he’s always a bit off after work, but he’s usually good at shaking it off. Probably just needs some time to unwind.”
Karen wasn’t sure. There was something off about it today. Her instinct told her that there was more going on, but she didn’t press it any further. Instead, she excused herself and walked over to where Athena was standing by the BBQ.
“Athena,” Karen said softly, pulling her aside so they could talk without being overheard. She glanced toward the garden, where Buck was now playfully holding a plastic cup to his mouth, pretending it was part of a dragon’s hoard. “Have you noticed that Buck’s been a little... off?”
Athena frowned, looking toward the garden as well. “I have. He’s not the same today, is he?” Her voice was quieter now, almost like she was voicing a concern she hadn’t fully acknowledged before. “When Eddie first left, he was quiet. It took a couple of weeks, but he adjusted. He started seeing Dr Copeland again. I really thought he was fine, then a few days ago, he suddenly went completely silent on me; but I can’t pinpoint not sure why. It’s not like him.”
Karen bit her lip, watching as Buck bent down to listen to Jee's latest, energetic explanation of some new dragon attack. "He seems like he’s... going through the motions, but I can tell he’s not fully here. It’s like he’s just pretending to be okay."
Athena nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. "I’ve noticed it too. I even asked him the other day if he was doing okay, and he just said he was fine. But I don’t think he’s fine, Karen. Not like he was before."
There was a long pause between the two women as they watched Buck with the kids. He smiled and laughed along, but the joy seemed faint. Athena continued, her voice softer now. "I’ve seen Buck sad before, especially when Eddie first left for El Paso. But this... it’s different. He’s not that sad, but he’s withdrawn. I don’t think he wants anyone to see it, though."
Karen swallowed, feeling a knot of worry tighten in her stomach. “Has he said anything else? Maybe something more about why he’s... like this?”
Athena sighed, shaking her head. “He insists he’s fine. He says he’s just tired, that’s all. But we both know that’s not the full story, don’t we?”
Karen gave her a look, her concern deepening. “We do. I think it’s time someone pushed a little harder. We can’t let him slip through the cracks. We don’t want a repeat of what happened after the lawsuit.”
Athena nodded, her eyes still on Buck. “I’m keeping an eye on him. But... I don’t know if he’ll let anyone in, even if we try.”
Karen couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry for Buck. He had always been the one who took care of everyone else, but right now, he was the one who needed the care. It was just a matter of getting through to him before he withdrew even further.
The kids’ laughter in the distance faded a little, but Buck’s quiet, forced smile remained at the front of Karen’s mind.
Chris
The evening light was dimming outside the window, and the house felt quiet, with just the hum of a fan circulating the air. Chris sat on the couch, one leg draped over the armrest as he played with his console, and doing his best to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach.
Across from him, on the TV screen, Denny and Harry were sprawled out on the floor, the three boys playing a video game together.
“Anything exciting happening back home?” Chris asked, trying to spark some conversation with the boys. He needed to hear about life in LA, even if it made him feel more homesick than he already was.
Denny glanced up, “Eh, not much. No one’s hurt, thank God, but honestly, everything’s kind of boring right now. We all miss having you around, though. It’s just not the same without you at the hangouts.”
Chris smirked, sitting up a little. “Boring, huh? Sounds like a great reason for me to come back.” He paused, giving a sarcastic grin. “But, I don’t know. My dad’s kinda happy here, and he’s got his new friend now—Diego. He thinks he’s some sort of... hero or something, trying to be my new best friend. Honestly, I think Diego’s trying way too hard.”
Denny and Harry exchanged a glance, sensing the tension in Chris’ voice. Denny raised an eyebrow. “Wait, seriously? Your dad’s new friend? That’s gotta suck, man. But... I thought you were getting along with him?”
Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “I am, it’s just... he’s acting like he’s the cool new guy and that I’m supposed to just fall in line. But it’s like, I don’t know... I miss you guys. I miss Buck, too.”
Harry, who had been mostly silent up to that point, looked up at Chris. “You’ve been talking to him, right? What’s going on with him? He’s been a bit off lately.”
Chris’ expression shifted slightly, his thoughts going to the phone call he had with Buck a couple weeks ago. “Yeah... I had a call with him a couple weeks ago. It was... weird. He rushed off the call like he had somewhere else to be, and then after that, he stopped responding to my texts. I thought maybe I was just annoying him, but it’s been weird. He hasn’t been the same.”
Denny frowned, lowering his phone. “Sounds like something’s going on. You know, I heard from my mom that she thinks Buck’s been pulling away from the group. She’s worried about him, actually. He’s not really talking to anyone, even the adults. Just... pulling away. Mama doesn’t see it though.”
Chris felt a knot in his stomach. He had noticed the distance, but hearing it from Denny made it feel more real. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said quietly. “But... I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not seeing it right.” He glanced at Denny and Henry. “I wish I could be there to help him. He was always there for me when I needed him.”
Harry nodded, his voice soft. “Yeah, I know what you mean. May noticed it, too, but she said she doesn’t know how to fix it. He just... shuts down.”
Denny’s voice was full of concern now. “Something’s definitely off with him. I think he’s been keeping to himself for a while. No one’s really realized how bad it is. And lets face it, we have no clue how to help him if we don’t know what has triggered him. And knowing Buck, he is trying not to be an imposition. But I overheard Mom and Athena whispering about not wanting the lawsuit to happen again.”
As the two boys hung up, Chris felt the weight of the conversation settle over him. He knew something wasn’t right with Buck, but he hadn’t expected to hear this from his friends. It made him feel even more helpless, stuck on the other side of the country.
Suddenly, Chris heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Eddie appeared in the doorway, standing there for a moment as if deciding whether to interrupt. Chris looked up, surprised to see his dad.
“I was just thinking,” Eddie said, his voice quiet. “do you like being here in El Paso. I know you miss Denny and Harry. Do you...do you want to go back?” His tone was neutral, but there was a small edge to it—like he was unsure how to approach the subject.
Chris’ heart skipped a beat, not entirely expecting Eddie to overhear. “Uh, yeah... I mean, I miss it there. I miss home. I miss you, Dad.” He shrugged, trying to keep his tone casual. “I just thought you were happy here with Diego and everything.”
Eddie’s gaze softened, but there was something unreadable in his expression. “I know it has to be a joint decision, but I want to be wherever you will be happiest. And I could never be happier with Diego than I was with Buck.”
Chris nearly jumped out of his seat, excitement flooding his chest. “You’re serious?!”
Eddie gave a small smile, but there was a trace of hesitation. “Yeah, I think I am. But we need to keep this quiet, okay? I want to surprise everyone, especially Buck. I know we promised no secrets, but I think this is one that’s worth keeping for a little while.”
Chris grinned widely, a surge of happiness rushing through him. “Yes! They’re gonna be so surprised. I suppose this is an acceptable secret to keep.”
Eddie nodded, walking over to sit beside Chris. “Let’s just get everything in order before we tell anyone. You finish school, I’ll give my notice at the firehouse, and then we’ll start packing up.”
Chris could barely contain his excitement. The idea of going back to LA was all he could think about now. It felt like the weight on his chest had lifted. He was going home. And he could be there for Buck when he needed him most.
As his dad began talking about the practicalities of the move, Chris was already lost in thoughts of the beach, his old friends, and—most of all—Buck. He couldn’t wait to get back.
Eddie
The phone felt cool against his ear, and Eddie leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out the window into the darkening El Paso night. The weight of the decision had been settling in his chest all day, and now, as he prepared to follow through with it, it felt both right and terrifying. His fingers absentmindedly drummed on the edge of the counter while the phone rang, a momentary anxiety gnawing at him.
Finally, Bobby’s voice came through the receiver.
“Hi, Bobby,” Eddie greeted, trying to sound casual despite the nerves running through him. “Were you serious when you said there’d always be a place for me at the 118?”
“Of course, Eddie. Why do you ask?” Bobby replied, sounding both curious and surprised.
Eddie took a breath, his thumb brushing the screen of the phone absentmindedly. “Think you could work me back into the rotation with you all? Say in two weeks’ time? I need to give notice to the Captain here.”
Bobby was quiet for a moment, as if considering it, before answering. “Sounds easy enough. Have you spoken to anyone else about this?”
Eddie shook his head, even though Bobby couldn’t see him. “No. I want to surprise everyone.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Eddie could almost hear the gears turning in Bobby’s mind. “Everyone?” Bobby asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Eddie hesitated. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hold back the truth, but the thought of surprising Buck—of seeing his face when he realized Eddie was coming back—felt important. It was almost like it would fix something that had been wrong for so long. He exhaled slowly. “... Fine, I want to surprise Buck. But would it be unfair not to tell the others? Will they be able to keep it a secret?”
Bobby chuckled softly, understanding now, before replying with an assured tone. “For this, Eddie, the others can keep it a secret. I think it would be a nice surprise for Buck, especially. I’ll keep it as quiet as possible. You just make sure you come home to your boy.”
Eddie’s chest tightened slightly at Bobby’s words. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been missing LA—how much he’d been missing his life there. But it wasn’t just about that. It was about giving Chris some stability, giving him the chance to return to something familiar. And—if he was honest—it was about Buck, too.
He needed to make things right with Buck. He didn’t even know if that was possible, but the idea of him seeing Eddie again—his old life, his old team—might just help.
“I will,” Eddie murmured. “Thanks, Bobby. I’ll give notice tomorrow. You’re sure this is okay?”
“It’s more than okay. Get everything in order on your side, and I’ll do the same here,” Bobby replied, his tone steady, comforting. “I’ll be waiting. Just make sure you keep this between us for now.”
Eddie smiled, the weight of the decision settling into something resembling relief. “Will do. I’ll make sure Chris doesn’t slip up either.”
“Good. You take care of yourself. You’ll be back with your boy soon enough.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said softly, turning his gaze back to the window. The last slivers of sunlight had almost disappeared, and the city outside was beginning to glow with the lights of evening. “I’ll be back.”
After a few more words, the call ended, and Eddie stood in silence for a moment, letting the conversation sink in. He felt a bit lighter now, like a weight had been lifted, though a part of him still worried. He was doing the right thing, wasn’t he? He had to be.
He needed to get back to LA for Chris. For all of them.
Eddie sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Two weeks. He could manage that. The next few days would be spent getting everything in order, telling the Captain, and making the plans with Chris. There was so much to figure out, but for once, Eddie felt like he had a plan—something concrete to look forward to.
His son. His old friends. Buck.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Maybe this time, everything would fall into place.