Chapter 6
Buck brings him a coffee and a blueberry muffin their next shift back. Actually, he brings the entire A-Shift coffee and muffins. By the time Eddie arrives- twenty minutes before shift starts- Buck and Bobby have prepared breakfast and C-Shift is almost done with their share. There’s a Tupperware full of risotto with Eddie’s name scrawled on it in the fridge. He’s overcompensating. No, that's not quite it. He’s doing that very specific over-kindnessing his friends and loved ones to make up for the fact that he needed a little help. He’s trying to tip the scales. Make himself more useful than burden. Equate his worthiness to deeds and need, rather than just worth.
“Who’s birthday did I forget?” Chim questions as he rounds the corner in the loft and takes in the spread. Buck’s solo behind the counter now, scrambling eggs while C-shift clears their plates around him. Eddie took his offered coffee and settled himself at the counter.
“Buck brought coffee and helped me with breakfast,” Bobby explains graciously as he sets out the final stack of clean dishes. Buck’s sleeves are rolled up, he’s alternating between cooking and cleaning.
“Buckaroo!” Chimney’s voice is loud and easy, warm in Buck’s bones. “What’s gotten into you? I love it.” He takes a bite of muffin and leans against the counter.
“I was awake, I had time and energy, and I figured we’d start this Wednesday strong.” Buck shrugs. He’s pleased Chimney’s happy, pleased to be in the kitchen with Bobby. A little uncomfortable now that he’s realized people are looking at him. Tense under what he can feel is Eddie’s gaze. He’d hoped for Eddie’s easy smile when he’d gestured to the tray of coffees and told him to take his, but he’d gotten a complicated look instead.
Eddie had thanked him, of course. It had even been that easy, ‘Thanks, Buck,’ it usually was. But there was no reassuring touch, that way Eddie usually does to say he means it. Instead, he’d sat at the island and stared at Buck while he cooked. Buck wishes he knew what that meant.
“What’s starting strong?” Hen questions as she steps into the kitchen, around Henson and Scott.
“Buckley got coffee, and made eggs,” Henson repeats as he takes a swig of his latte, “Thanks again, man!” He smiles as he makes his way back to his seat next to Danvers.
“Dang, Buckley, you are starting strong,” Hen says in the slow appreciative voice of hers. Buck flicks on the water and scrubs at the bowls in the sink so no one can see the blush he feels on his cheeks and ears. It’s good. This was good.
“The bacon is calling me,” Chim sighs moving to the table. Hen chuckles and follows him to her seat Paulson from C-Shift has vacated.
“Salt always calls to you,” She teases. This was it. This was what he wanted. This is the way it’s supposed to be. Easy and familiar.
“You cooked, Buck. I can do the dishes,” Bobby offers gently, suddenly next to him. Buck hopes his flinch isn’t that noticeable. He’s feeling better. Like, if the night at Eddie’s is the bar, he’s one hundred percent better.
It’s just, if the bar is last April, then he’s probably only operating at sixty percent. Which is fine. It’s enough. He’s at like, ninety-two percent on calls. It’s only when he remembers Eddie is out there too and he doesn’t know how he’s doing that he has to rub at his chest and pretend he can feel it through his turnouts.
“I got it, Bobby, it was my idea to need so many dishes,” He throws Bobby a smile, and tries to hold the older man’s too-searching gaze. It’s not supposed to be fake. Not here.
“You haven’t eaten, we’ll make one more batch and then you can sit to eat,” Bobby’s words sound a little like an order, but there’s this unsettled feeling that stirs in Buck at the thought of sitting for breakfast with the team. How had he not known that was coming? They always eat all together. It’s been the rule since day one.
“I don’t-” He finds himself protesting before his brain can register how stupid it sounds. He knows it’s the way they do it. It’s stupid to be caught off guard. It’s stupid to be worrying. He was the one who prepared the breakfast. Of course, they are going to sit and eat it.
“We always-” Bobby is saying at the same time Eddie cuts in. “Sit, Buck. Eat. You don’t eat cold eggs.” Buck can’t stop himself from looking at Eddie even though he really wishes he didn’t. If Bobby’s gaze had been a little too searching, Eddie’s is far too knowing. He holds his breath not to squirm under it. Eddie’s seen all his cards and Buck has no idea how he’s supposed to play now. There are too many rules. He feels damaged and silly. It’s breakfast. It’s breakfast. It shouldn’t require this much thought. It shouldn’t require any-
“We’ll do the dishes after breakfast. We eat together. As a team.” Bobby’s instructions cut through his spiral. He’s being so painfully gentle and fuck it’s so much worse. Buck is turning off the sink and crossing to the range with a nod. He pulls his hand away to turn back on the burner when he realizes it’s rubbing at his chest.
He’s padding butter into the pan and blinking back the tears that always seem ready to fall these days. His eyes burn and he lies to himself and says it’s the heat.
“Sure, Cap,” The words hurt his throat and he’s endlessly grateful they don’t get stuck in the back of his mouth like they sometimes do. He can’t think about Eddie’s eyes on him. Can’t think about the team chatting around him. Can’t think about Bobby’s gentle voice. Can only think about breathing at a normal pace. About the eggs scrambling in front of him.
Eddie watches Buck scramble eggs for what he knows is at least two minutes too long. If the bringing of leftovers wasn’t enough, the baked goods and coffee should have been. He knew the minute he spotted coffee Buck was on edge. He should have helped with the dishes. Something to put himself closer. Show Buck they’re still a team, no matter what.
It felt self-serving. Putting himself that close to Buck. Inserting himself in. It felt like it was more for him than Buck. Maybe Buck wants space. Wants to show himself he’s okay. Except Buck hates space. Eddie knows Buck hates space. C-Shift knows Buck hates space.
Eddie’s not really sure what to do with his body in space though. Not since a foreign body became a part of him of it’s own volition. Since his connection to his body was tethered by pain.
It feels like his body when it’s touching Buck’s. Grounded. Real. Tethered. So much for starting strong.
***
“Denny’s been wanting to go back to the aquarium, but it's supposed to be so nice this weekend I’m hoping we can do the playground and save the aquarium for the fall,” Hen’s explaining from her place at the table. She has a book in front of her, open but ignored as her phone lays lit atop it.
“Christopher wants to try a new playground. We’re gonna try Benny Potter Park,” Eddie chimes in as he pours himself a cup of coffee. It’s a third cup, he shouldn’t have it. His hands feel empty without it.
“Oo when are y’all goin’?” Hen’s perked up, eyes on Eddie as he pours half and half into the lukewarm mug.
“I’m thinking Saturday, Christopher was hoping- Buck Chris was wondering if you wanted to come,” Buck turns to face him from the couch. “He said we can go Saturday if you don’t want to go but if you want to but can’t we have to wait for you.” Buck can’t help his smile at Eddie’s explanation, that would have been exactly how Christopher would have explained his plans. Except.
“I, uh, I kind of promised Taylor we could do something,” But Christopher. Christopher who he loves. Christopher who had seen him two mornings ago looking the way he knows he did. “But we could probably do a late dinner? If you guys don’t mind doing the park closer to lunch?” Taylor likes a late dinner. Romantic. Candles, wine.
“You know we’re tired by six-thirty man. Lunch works for us,” Eddie finds himself joking back with a smile. It’s good. Buck’s smiling and it’s good. He can’t think about Taylor Kelly too hard. Not here. Not now. Hopefully not at all. But that jealous little piece of him that always wants Buck’s first choice to be Chris is pleased. “So to answer Hen, Saturday. You and Denny are welcome to join.” He says turning his attention back to Hen as he pulls out a second mug.
“I’ll check with Karen but that was what I was angling for,” Hen grins. An easier afternoon for both of them, honestly. “A new playground and a picnic-” She turns to Buck, “with Buck’s brownies.”
“You got it,” Buck’s laughing. He can make brownies. Hell, he’ll make a whole picnic lunch. Spend the afternoon with the people he loves. It will be good. He will be happy.
“If Karen and Denny are in we’re happy to grab Harry if he’s around.” Hen offers to Bobby who’s reading through some paperwork at the counter. He’d emerged from his office half an hour ago for a change of scenery.
“I’m not sure what he’s doing this weekend but I will absolutely extend the offer,” Bobby answers easily. He’d seemed engrossed in his reading, but Bobby never misses anything. “Athena is off this weekend so she and May are supposed to go to the mall at some point but I’m not sure what the final plan is.”
“What about you, Chim? How does Jee feel about the grass these days?” Chim is still at the counter with his phone but looks up to join in as Eddie finds himself crossing to the couch. He’s poured Buck a cup of coffee he didn’t ask for as a needless reason to join him on the couch and Hen, Chim, and Bobby chat behind them.
Eddie holds out the mug without a word. Buck’s eyes are wide, looking up at him and he resists the urge to physically place Buck’s hands around the mug. He catches on after a second of awkward stillness, taking the mug with a smile.
Buck focuses on the heat of the coffee mug between his palms as Eddie settles into the cushion next to him. His palms are warm, he can hear Bobby’s voice behind him. Eddie’s knee bumps his own and he refocuses his attention with a hum.
“Chris has been hounding me to ask you about the park,” Eddie’s face softens in that way it always does when he says his son's name. Buck can feel the tightness in his own chest easing. “You wanna text him and tell him or should I?” Buck’s grinning at the offer. Of course, he wants to. Chrisopher’s going to be happy and he has the chance to be the one to see it.
“Well I’m gonna have to ask him what he wants for his picnic anyway so I might as well,” He jokes back. Eddie’s chuckling beside him and Buck realizes their knees are still touching.
“Is that so? You providing lunch?” Eddie questions as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“C’mon Eddie, I love your kid way too much to make him suffer your cooking when I’m available,” Buck says it as a joke. A long-standing bit they all have going. Eddie’s not a great cook, doesn’t have the patience to follow a recipe. Buck likes the drama of it, the stakes of following a recipe, the ability to serve the people he loves. Care for them. Nourish them. Buck says it as a joke. Eddie knows it's a joke. But the way his body warms when Buck so casually says he loves Christopher never feels like a joke. It’s been years since he awkwardly stumbled through responding to Christopher's first ‘goodbye! I love you!’ But the way he folds it into a sentence like it's a sure thing, an established fact, a mathematical known constant. Eddie doesn’t have the brain space to analyze why that makes him feel something right now.
The shrieking of the bell saves them both from spiraling thoughts. Turnouts are one with muscle memory. Into the engine. Headsets on. Knees pressed together. It’s good. Things are good.