Chapter 5
Buck thinks he looks mostly okay by the time he leaves for Maddie’s. It did involve a cooling face mask Taylor recommended and the concealer he once reserved for ill-placed hickeys. It’s been a few weeks since Maddie got home. Well, five actually. It’s been five weeks. And six days. But nine of those days she stayed home and didn’t tell anyone but Chimney, Albert, and him he was home.
“Hey, Buck,” Maddie smiles when she opens the apartment door. Buck can’t help himself, and dips down to give her a hug as he steps in. She’s warm, and she smells like Maddie. She’s still a little gentler, a little delicate in the way she holds him.
“Hey, Mads,” he says softly. It’s still daylight, still golden sunset in her white apartment, but it feels too much to speak now. The world was still in full swing when he parked and walked here, but now it all feels more unsteady. Maybe this is why Maddie’s not hugging him tight enough. Maybe that's why she’s letting go too soon. “I’ve got food,” He puts on a smile when she pulls back.
“You so didn’t have to come here to cook for me. I could have ordered us a pizza or-” Maddie’s following him into the kitchen, tucking behind the island as he puts the bags on the counter.
“No, I want to, I do,” Buck starts, pulling out the rice and asparagus.
“Hey, Buck, how’s it goin’?” Chim greets as he comes out of the hall. He was putting Jee-Yun down, Maddie had texted to warn him. He sort of hates that they all live the kind of relationships that involve warning.
“Good-good. Good to see you.” The words don’t get stuck so much as he’s not sure what to say. He rubs his chest. He offers Chim a grin and tried not to catch his eye.
He’s forgiven Chim. It wasn’t hard, he gets it. He would punch his way through the world to make sure Maddie is safe. Hell, he’s basically punched his own nose just for her attention so he can’t blame Chim for doing it to find her.
It still, it still hurts though. Just sometimes. Just when he thinks too much the situation or overthinks a rouge comment. It’s just this little ache in his chest. It’s not so bad. A little rub against his breastbone and he can pretend it’s heartburn. Pretend it’s not one more broken thing that he has no idea how to fix. Another broken thing that will never be the same as it was before it broke.
“You too, thanks for bringing all the supplies.” Chim’s replying while Buck is still trying to overthink his own sentence.
“M-my pleasure. A good meal for my good sister.” He tries not to flinch after he says it. Once upon a time, it would have been a throwaway comment. One more little way he works into conversation how loved Maddie is, how he likes having her around. Now it feels possessive. Too much for her, too much of a competition with Chim. “I mean, I gotta use someone as my recipe guinea pig and Christopher and Eddie will only indulge me so much.” He tries again, shifts some focus off Maddie, makes fun of himself a little
It’s the right move. Chim chuckles and Maddie smiles and rolls her eyes. She doesn’t like it when he makes fun of himself, but this is safe enough. Not tied enough to his self-worth. It’s a balance, but he got it this time.
“Well best of luck with that Maddie, and Buckley, I expect a bite if it’s any good. I am the king of takeout which makes me the best taste tester.” Chim jokes as he pulls on his shoes. Maddie’s moved to the end of the island, closer to him. Buck would bet money she doesn’t know she’s done it.
“You got it, man. I got enough for two tries so here’s hopin’ we only need one.” Buck jokes. And it feels easy enough, right enough.
“Fingers crossed,” He turns to Maddie then, a little stiff. “She’s, asleep in our-in the room. The bedroom. Mrs. Lee’s still good for tomorrow,-” Nervous and awkward are strange looks on Chimney. Uncertain, sure, everyone has their moments and situations. But Chimney is usually smooth in that way they all lie and say he isn’t. Confident, funny. Not arrogant, he’s too good at reading the room for that, too insecure. But this is hard to watch.
“I’ll pick her up tomorrow night,” Maddie’s cutting him off, faking her own confidence. Has everyone always been faking it this much? Has Buck not been paying attention?
“And I’ll grab her the next morning after shift. Perfect.” Chimney finishes for her. Buck gets it, that compulsion to say the plan out loud and let people object or reassure you. “Let me know if you need anything. Call me, I’m always around.”
It shouldn’t hurt Buck. It’s not fair that it does, that there’s this upset separate from the fact that Maddie looks annoyed at the lack of trust. Buck doesn’t have the right to also feel untrustworthy. Chim’s not making it personal. It’s not a slam against Buck that he doesn’t even trust him with his own sister and niece. He’s just being protective. It’s his kid and the woman he loves. It’s not about Buck, and it’s selfish to make any of this about him.
It’s just. He’s here. For dinner, but it's dinner with Maddie. They’ll eat, watch a movie. Not drink wine because it will fuck with the meds he knows she’s on, and the ones she doesn’t know he’s on. She won’t push, he planned ahead to have this meal the night before shift. Not that he’d ever say no to her. But they’ll still be stupid together, hopefully, laugh a lot. He doesn’t have it in him to cry the way they do sometimes or recover from it.
It’ll be late, and he’ll say he should go after the movie. Then it will be later, and she’ll say just stay here. And he will. And he’ll walk into work with his bag that's already packed in the Jeep, leftover risotto, and a crink and his neck. And it will be good. And Maddie will be safe.
Chim already knows how Buckley-sibling dinners go. He knows Buck will be here. Does he really not trust Buck with his daughter and love? Did Buck really fuck this up that bad? He rubs his chest and takes quiet little breaths through his nose.
“Except you’re at work,” Maddie’s voice brings him back to the world.
“Doesn’t matter,” Chimney’s response is quick and earnest. Buck sort of wishes he wasn’t in the room now. This is- not only is he not necessary in this conversation, it feels invasive to overhear it.
“We’ll be fine Howie. I’ll be fine. But thank you.” Maddie’s firm. She's trying to reassure Chimney. Buck doesn’t want to do this broken back and forth anymore, so he slips out of the kitchen to the bathroom.
He doesn’t have to pee, and he can’t splash the cold water he’d like to on his face without it turning red again. The only other option is kind of just, staring at himself in the mirror.
There’s this unsettled feeling he gets these days. It's happened before, but now it feels like it’s all the time. He wants to be here tonight, be with Maddie. He missed her so much. But, at the same time, it's exhausting and he wants to be home in bed. But when he is home in bed, he’s desperate to be anywhere else. There’s this longing aspect to it. It feels like something is missing all the time these days.
He can’t hear Maddie or Chimney's voice anymore. He’ll give it a minute.
Maddie’s back behind the island when he comes out. She’s finished unpacking his bag, and there are two glasses of water and two empty wine glasses on the counter.
“Did you bring fake booze?” She asks as he rounds the corner. It’s more confusion than an accusation, so he smiles and lets the chuckle her scrunched eyebrows bring to his chest out.
“Yeah, I thought it would be fun,” He shrugs. She’s still looking at him, eyebrows still scrunched. “I keep getting targeted ads since I clicked on one by accident,” He explains, moving back into the kitchen, “I mentioned it to Eddie, but you know how he feels about target ads.”
“For a government employee, he really does not trust the internet.” Maddie grins as she steps out of his way, taking the bottle with her to round the island.
“He’s an old man at heart,” Buck laughs, flipping on the sink to wash his hands again before he starts prep. “Anyway, I figured it would be fun to try, and I thought, I dunno,” He trails off as he dries his hands and turns to her again. She’s reading the label now, she’s always been a label reader.
“With my meds.” She finishes for him. Her voice is flat, and he’s not sure where that leaves him.
“With your meds.” He agrees, “We don’t have to. We can do whatever you want. I-” He finds himself following it up with, nervous again where he was just feeling settled again.
“Buck! You don't have to,” Her mouth opens and closes. “Don’t have to be,”
“Be gentle? Delicate around you,” He suggests, thinking of her own behavior. They’ve always been so different, but he thinks there are some things- some brokens that must be genetic. Or at least upbringing. Maybe Daniel escaped them by age and nurture. He’s pretty sure Maddie shares them though.
“Yeah,” She sighs in the end. She looks kind of far away, there's more than just a slab of marble separating them now. He’s used to distance between himself and others, but it feels like he and Maddie both have empty caverns on their own sides of the island. Space on space between them.
“Okay.” He’s saying softly before he knows he’s doing it, agreeing with a decision he doesn’t know he’s made. Any decision to make that space feel a little less insurmountable.
“Okay?” She’s looking at him now, and she feels a little closer, a little sturdier even as she whispers.
“Okay, I’ll do my best?” He offers as clarification. He starts moving his hands, picking up ingredients, sorting them. It feels more final this way. Like at least she’ll know she’s safe till he’s done cooking.
“I guess that’s all I can ask.” She says with another one of those smiles that doesn’t reach further than her mouth.
“I-I’ll really try,” He can’t stop himself from adding. Wants to stop himself from adding. Knows it feels too desperate when he adds. “To do what you need.”
“Buck, honey, I know you will. I know you always do. I know.” She’s not reaching for him, not taking his hands in hers the way she once would have. It’s good, cause his are shaking a little. And he’s a little scared hers are too.
“Okay.” He nods more to himself than to her. He turns to get himself a knife, a cutting board. To not have to look at her.
“Okay.” She says behind, him. It hurts to hear her so small, and to feel too broken to be big enough for both of them. He squats to get a mixing bowl, rubs his chest in four firm up and downs, and steadies his voice.
“Hey, did you have lunch with Josh yesterday?” He asks with a put upon lightness that hasn’t been in this kitchen since Maddie left it three months ago.
“Oh my gosh, yes, ridiculous.” He braves looking at her when he stands up and she’s smiling a little to herself remembering. It's good. Things are good. It can be good again.
“What else is new,” Buck chuckles. “What’s he been up to?” It’s easier to think when he’s moving in her kitchen, washing asparagus, and measuring rice. It’s easier to move in her kitchen when he’s listening to her talk. Everything is where it was months ago, and he’s grateful to Albert for moving nothing. Grateful to Albert for never making him come here.
“You remember his sister?” Maddie’s pulling a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge, closing the door, and turning to him with a dramatic flourish.
“The crazy one?” He stops chopping to ask, a smile finding it’s place on his face at the excited look in her eye. He already knows the answer.
“Well, she’s really working to hold that crown.” She grins before launching into a story about Josh’s crazy sister and her crazier boyfriend.
She pours them iced tea and talks while he cooks. He gets it on the first try. She does dishes and eats ice cream while he repeats the process for a second batch. Packs it into four to-go containers for lunch. Marks them Maddie, Buck, Howard, and Eddie D. in dry-erase marker.
Jee-Yun wakes up around eleven thirty. Buck holds back tears when Maddie can’t get her back to sleep. He hugs them both a little too tight when Maddie suggests that maybe they roll with it, turn on the Curious George movie, and snuggle all together on the couch.
He wakes her around two am. Carries his niece to bed, tells his sister he loves her, and tucks himself back in on her estranged boyfriend's couch. He won’t sleep deep enough to dream here.
Maybe he wouldn’t have dreamed tonight anyway. Maybe one bad night doesn’t mean anything. Maybe a good night with his sister and niece does make things better. Maybe things just are getting better.
His alarm goes off at five thirty, buzzing beside him. He leaves a note, and the coffee maker prepped. Take’s three lunches, and heads to work. Maybe things are getting better.