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The loft at the Station felt like a sanctuary on slow shifts like this one. A rare bubble of calm wedged between the controlled chaos that usually ran their lives like a freight train.
The living area was a safe haven between the rush of calls too, though the team were hardly spread out evenly. Bobby had claimed the far end of the couch with a mug of coffee, its rich, bitter scent filling the room as he carefully navigated around Buck’s sprawling long legs.
Buck had all but taken over the rest of the couch, shoveling Bobby’s famous mac and cheese into his mouth like he’d been starved for days.
That left Chimney, Hen, and Eddie to make do with the armchairs.
Between them, there was that easy, wordless rhythm- Eddie tossing Buck a napkin without needing to even look when he spilled cheese sauce on his shirt, Buck grinning and tossing one back when Eddie’s hair fell in his eyes making him spill his own coffee. Nothing heavy, nothing that’d shift the ground under their feet- just the kind of comfort that comes from trusting someone with your life over and over again.
It started simple, like these things always did. Chimney, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“So… What’s the most unhinged thing any of you have ever walked into on a call?”
Hen let out a laugh that was half fond exasperation, half oh boy, where do I even start. “Alright, alright, I’ll go first. A few years back, before you two got here-“ Hen added for Buck and Eddie. “-we get a call from a guy who’s practically in tears saying he’s ‘stuck’ and can’t get to the ER without making a scene he’ll never live down.”
She paused to shake her head, still smiling a little as the memory came back clear as day. “We roll up to this house, and the poor guy meets us at the door wearing nothing but a bathrobe he’s clutching for dear life. Turns out he’d reached for what he thought was a bottle of lube in the dark, but it was actually industrial-strength superglue he’d left out after fixing a broken shelf earlier that day. Next thing he knows, his hand’s stuck fast to… well. Let’s just say his ‘personal equipment’ was not having a good day.”
“Superglue?” Buck nearly choked on his mac and cheese, setting his bowl down as he stared at Hen. “How do you even mix those two up? He superglued his hand to his dick!?” He stared at Hen for more, his mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief.
“Dark bathroom, apparently,” Hen said, shrugging, her voice going gentle- she never made fun of people in distress, no matter how wild the situation. “He was so embarrassed he’d been sitting there for two hours trying to get loose with cooking oil before he finally caved and called 911. Me and Chim had to work carefully, can’t exactly just pull something like that free without causing serious damage. We ended up using acetone we’d grabbed from the hardware store on the way, and even then we had to go slow, talking him through it the whole time. Kept telling him everyone’s had a moment they want to forget, and at least this one had a fix that didn’t involve surgery.”
Buck’s spoon stilled halfway to his mouth, Hen’s story fading into the background, the cheesy forkful hovering in the air as something heavy settled in his chest. Everyone’s had a moment they want to forget. Too right. He didn’t need to look at Eddie to picture it all clear as day- the soaking wet dirt underneath his fingers, the sound of his voice cracking as he cried Eddie’s name, the sickening drop in his stomach when he’d realized how far down that well went. And how far Eddie truly was away from him.
He really thought Eddie was going to die that day… That was the kind of moment you’d give anything to erase from your memory entirely. Not just because it was terrifying, but because the thought of losing him had felt like he was drowning in darkness right there alongside Eddie.
Buck carefully set his spoon back in the bowl, pushing it a little further away across the coffee table, a cool shiver running down his spine at the memory.
She took a sip of her water, glancing around at the team’s wide-eyed faces. “You know the worst part? When we were wrapping up, his wife came home early from work. She just stood there for a second, looked at him, looked at us, looked at the bottle of superglue on the bathroom counter and just started laughing. Said she’d been telling him to put his tools away for years.”
The room erupts again- Chimney’s wheezing now, Eddie’s grinning that wide smile Buck was always seemingly more grateful for after that day and Bobby was shaking his head with fond exasperation.
But then Chimney sobers up just enough to wipe his eyes, leaning back and seemingly reading Buck’s mind. Saying the one thing Buck had refused to tell Eddie all these years. “Nothing beats Buck at the well, though. I’ve seen some desperate moves- Hen with the superglue guy, me trying to extract a kid one time from the bottom of a vending machine but watching a man try to manually excavate a hundred feet of mud with his fingernails? That’s a new level of ‘teamwork.’”
The laughter sputtered out like a flame doused in water, and the air in the loft seemed to thicken all of a sudden, charged with the weight of the unpleasant memories for them all.
Eddie’s gaze drifted over to Buck, and the shift Buck is immediate. Eddie straightened slightly in his seat at that.
Where Buck had been smiling and laughing a moment ago, leaning forward a little as he listened to Hen’s story, well now he’d gone unnervingly still, shoulders squared and rigid as a board.
Even from across the room, Eddie could see the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands had curled into loose fists on his thighs, knuckles pale against his dark pants. He’s not looking at Chimney anymore either; his eyes are fixed somewhere past the far wall, distant and guarded, like he’s suddenly miles away in a place only he can reach. And that look, Eddie knows it well. He’d seen it after the tsunami, when Buck’s trying to hold together pieces of himself he thinks no one else can see.
Buck didn’t tell me this. Tell me he’d dug through the ground to get to me. The thought lands hard in Eddie’s gut. He'd assumed Buck was topside, safe, following protocol. That's what Buck had told him later anyway, glossing over the details with that trademark grin, deflecting with jokes about mud facials being good for him. Come to think of it, Buck was a lot muddier than the others…
“What do you mean ‘digging’?” Eddie half squeaked.
Chimney's face fell, regret flashing in his eyes, as he too noticed Buck’s whole demeanor change. "I just meant... you know- eager. He was eager- to- to get you out." He stumbled over his words, realising he’d stepped on a landmine he couldn’t take back.
“That’s it.” Hen agreed, her tone laced with a new concern. She shot Chim a look that said you idiot before turning back to Eddie. "Eddie, he was just eager to get you out of there.” Hen nodded, a half hearted attempt at damage control.
The well… Eddie thinks, and the warmth in his chest curdles into something cold and heavy. He remembered being pulled under, mud filling his lungs, Buck’s voice sharp with panic crackling over the radio trying to get some sort of response from him. But he couldn’t. The darkness was too overwhelming, the isolation, fleeting thoughts of Christopher flashing through his mind as the water rose before everything went dark.
“Someone had to try something,” Buck said, his voice flat all he was offering.
Chimney winced. “Buck, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” Buck cuts him off, forcing a smile that pulls too tight across his face. He’s looking at me like he doesn’t recognize me, he thinks, his eyes darting to Eddie’s for just a second before he looks away. Like he can’t understand why I’d do something so stupid.
Eddie feels his throat tighten, like there’s still mud coating it, and he wants to reach across the chairs, wants to take Buck’s hand and make him look at him: How bad were your hands? Did you go to the hospital? Why didn’t you tell me? But the words won’t come.
“I’m gonna grab more coffee,” Buck announced sharply, and doesn’t wait for a response. He stood up that abruptly, one side of the couch pushed back with a harsh scrape that echoed through the loft. Without another word, Buck headed for the kitchen, Eddie watching his shoulders hunched tight, and he knows, just knows he can’t let this moment pass without talking to him about it. Buck would only joke it off again later, try and play it down.
Eddie hurried after him, his footsteps quick against the floor. Buck was standing by the coffee machine, both hands braced flat on the countertop, knuckles white like he was ready to fight; though the machine hadn’t even been turned on, the button still dark and untouched. “You told me you followed protocol and you were safe the whole time?” Eddie’s voice was tight with a mix of anger and fear, but Buck wouldn’t speak, his jaw set hard. “You could have been injured- or- or worse, Buck? I-“
“And you nearly died, Eddie!” Buck snapped suddenly, the words sharp and harsh in the quiet room. He mumbled an apology immediately, slumping down onto a stool by the kitchen island; like the weight pressing down on him was suddenly too much to bear standing.
“I thought you were safe at least…” Eddie whispered, moving slowly closer to where Buck sat, his own shoulders sagging. The whole horrible thing that had happened- that dark consuming well- Eddie had held onto the thought that Buck was out of harm’s way, that it had given him some small comfort to know at least one of them was protected. But now he knew the truth: Buck could have died too if he kept going. Buck could have died too…
Buck finally lifted his head, his blue eyes stormy, raw with a vulnerability he rarely let show. His cheeks had gone red, colored with defiance. "The equipment was too slow, Eddie.” His voice barely a whisper. “You…” He swallowed hard, the memory painful to relive, but tried to carry on anyway. “You were down there, alone… drowning in the dark... I could hear the rain still pounding, feel the ground shifting. I wasn't just going to stand there and watch it swallow you whole, Eddie? What was I supposed to do? Do absolutely nothing while you fought for air?"
The words hung between them, heavy with the truth Buck had buried for years.
Eddie didn't move at first. He just stared at Buck, processing. Then, slowly, he closed the rest of the distance between them, close enough that their sides brushed, the heat of Buck's body a grounding force. Eddie's heart hammered, a mix of shock, gratitude, and something deeper- something he'd been shoving down for too long.
Buck wouldn't meet his eyes, his hands fidgeting in his lap, fingers tracing invisible patterns on his pants. The silence stretched, taut and electric.
"Show me," Eddie said finally, his voice low, almost a command. He sank down onto a stool opposite Buck, holding out his hands, palms up.
Buck hesitated, breath catching. He knew exactly what Eddie meant- no elaboration needed. Chimney had already said for him. Watching a man try to manually excavate a hundred feet of mud with his fingernails? That’s a new level of ‘teamwork.’
After a moment that felt like eternity, he placed his hands in Eddie's, palms exposed like a confession.
Eddie examined them carefully, turning them over with a gentleness that bordered on worship. His thumbs grazed the knuckles, the faint white scars near the cuticles- marks Eddie had noticed before but dismissed as battle scars from the job.
Now, they told a different story. A story of desperation, of love so fierce it bled.
"It was years ago, Eddie," Buck whispered, his voice cracking. "It doesn't matter anymore. They're healed."
"Even now," Eddie murmured half to himself, tracing one scar with his thumb, feeling the slight ridge under his skin. "You've been carrying this every day. And I never asked. I never knew." His chest ached, a sharp pang of guilt mixing with fear. "I was down there, Buck. In that hole, feeling the walls close in, thinking about Chris, about how alone I was. And all that time, you were right above me, fighting like hell to reach me. Tearing yourself apart. I was never alone… I couldn’t have been.”
Buck's fingers twitched in his grasp, but he didn't pull away, the weight of Eddie’s hands around his own feeling right somehow. "I couldn't lose you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
"Not like that. Not without trying everything. The thought of you down there... it broke something in me. I kept picturing your face, hearing your voice over the radio… fading. I just... I had to do something."
Eddie swallowed hard, his eyes stinging. "You could have been pulled in with me. The ground was collapsing. It was suicide-“
"Then I would've been with you," Buck replied instantly, his gaze finally lifting to meet Eddie's. There was no hesitation, no regret- just a steady, unyielding truth. "I wasn't leaving you alone, Eddie. I won't ever leave you alone."
The words hit Eddie like a wave, crashing over the barriers he'd built around his heart. He thought about the well again- the terror, the resignation- but now layered with this new image. Buck on his knees in the mud, hands raw and bleeding, refusing to stop. It shifted everything. And suddenly it all made perfect sense.
Every call, every crisis, Buck had never once hesitated to step between Eddie and danger. He remembered when a beam had started to give way at warehouse fire once, it was Buck who’d thrown himself forward to brace it with his own body. Or when Eddie’s leg had cramped up on the cliff rescue- it did that sometimes because of an old injury from his army days- it was Buck who had lowered himself inch by inch, never letting go even when his own arms were shaking.
He’d been there for Chris’s soccer games, for Carla’s birthdays too, for every quiet moment when Eddie hadn’t realized he’d needed someone at his side. A partner in every sense- not just on the job, but in life itself. All those little moments he’d filed away as just “Buck being Buck” now clicked into place like pieces of a puzzle he’d been trying to solve his whole life.
“Hey…” Buck murmured, dipping his head, to try and get Eddie to look at him. “Where’d you go?” He smiled softly.
Eddie looked up from tracing the scars on Buck’s palms, Buck’s gaze soft and steady as it met Eddie’s. “I’m okay…” Buck nodded slowly, Eddie’s fingers still resting lightly against the rough skin.
Buck had no question in his eyes, only a quiet kind of certainty. “I’m okay…” Buck nodded again, squeezing their joined hands, a firm, warm pressure that felt like home. “We’re okay.” He corrected.
They sat together for a little while, neither sure how long, Eddie kept Buck’s hands folded in his own, holding them close as if anchoring himself to the solid, warm truth that Buck was here. That they both were, safe and whole.
"I made the right choice then," Eddie said softly, almost to himself, breaking the silence finally.
Buck's brow furrowed. "What choice?"
The Will.
That secret he'd kept for over a year before he’d told Buck about it, buried in fear and protectiveness.
"The will." Eddie squeezed his hands, anchoring them both. "Putting you in it as Chris's guardian. I told myself it was practical- a backup plan. But hearing this... knowing you'd dig through the earth itself for me... there's no one else I'd trust with him. No one else who loves him- who loves us- like that."
Buck's eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears that had started to form. "Eddie..."
"I waited a year to tell you because I was scared," Eddie confessed, his voice trembling. "I thought I was protecting you from the mess of our lives. But you were already in it. Deeper than I realized. You've been here for both of us since day one, Buck.”
Buck let out a shaky breath, a tear slipping free. "I didn't do it for thanks. Or for... anything. I just couldn't imagine a world without you in it. Without us."
The air between them crackled, charged with years of unspoken feelings. Eddie looked back up at Buck, their faces so close, their breaths mingled. "I know," he whispered, his gaze flicking down to Buck’s lips just once.
His thumb brushed over the back of Buck’s hand, his heart hammering against his ribs. "And Buck... I need you to know that it's not just Chris. I need you too. More than I've ever needed anyone. I think I've..." He trailed off, his lips parting, the words loved you hovering on the tip of his tongue.
But then a sharp, urgent chime cut through the stillness- their radios blaring to life with dispatch’s voices, calling for all available units and the tones in the firehouse beginning to blare, the harsh sounds pulling them both back into the real world.
They pulled apart, both moving on natural instinct even as the moment hung heavy in the space between them. Buck wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, his jaw set firm, but his gaze never left Eddie’s.
"Later," he said, quiet but clear.
The rest of the shift crawled by in a slow, hazy loop. A fender bender where both drivers were more angry than hurt, an elderly woman who’d tripped over her cat and grinned through her sprained ankle anyway and someone who had smoked their entire kitchen out attempting to bake a cake.
Buck kept stealing glances at Eddie in the truck, his jaw tighter than usual, answers short, his attention seeming miles away even when he was right there beside him.
Every time their eyes met, a knot twisted in Buck’s gut. He’s blaming himself, Buck thought. Thinks I took too big a risk, that he should’ve stopped me somehow. The worry ate at him. This was exactly what he’d feared would happen. That by laying bare what he’d done, he’d just piled more weight onto Eddie’s shoulders.
But as the hours and the rest of the shift wore on, Buck started to see it differently. See him differently.
During a break in calls, he caught Eddie watching him. But not with guilt, but with something warm and steady in his gaze.
There was no tension in Eddie’s shoulders anymore, not like earlier in the kitchen, he was just… looking. Just a softness that made Buck’s chest feel light and full all at once.
Before the end of shift, they rolled out to a fire in a high-rise, nothing catastrophic but as always, he and Eddie moved as one. Back-to-back clearing smoke-filled rooms, hand signals and quick nods saying everything words didn’t need to.
When it was over, sweat slicking their skin and soot smudged across their cheeks, Buck felt Eddie’s hand squeeze his knee briefly in the truck. No words, but it landed like a warm weight. We’re okay. Don’t worry.
And by the time shift change hit, exhaustion dragged at every bone in Buck’s body, but it was tangled up with a sharp, bright anticipation that kept him alert. He knew Eddie had wanted to say something all day but just didn’t how or when was the right time.
He followed Eddie to the locker room, the quiet between them easy now, not strained. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Buck finally found the words. “You sure you’re okay?”
Eddie looked up, and a soft smile broke through the tired lines on his face. “Yeah. Just… processing.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you-“ Buck started, his voice tight with worry. “I should have said something sooner, but I didn’t want you to… I don’t know, feel like you had to carry it.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie said firmly, shaking his head slowly. His hand reached out, resting on Buck’s arm for a moment, warm, grounding. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” He insisted.
Eddie paused, slinging his own bag over his shoulder and giving Buck a small, steady look. “Look, let me explain, but- home?” He decided on instead.
The words settled over Buck like a warm blanket, chasing away the last of his unease. It sounded so natural. Home. My house is your house. And one simple word was like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Home.” Buck nodded, the tightness in his chest easing. His apprehension melted away, replaced by a quiet sense of belonging he’d been chasing without even knowing it.
The drive to Eddie's was silent, but not the suffocating kind. It was the quiet after a storm kind of quiet. When the air cleared and it seemed fresh. Buck kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Eddie’s gaze on him every so often, and each time, the knot in his stomach loosened just a little more.
When they walked through the front door, the house welcomed them with its familiar quiet- the soft glow of the hallway light, the faint scent of Christopher's favorite pancakes from his dinner.
Carla's note sat on the counter: Chris is out like a light. See you boys tomorrow.
Buck headed straight for the kitchen, starting the coffee pot without a second thought. It was habit now, ingrained within like breathing. Eddie always had a coffee when he got home after a long shift, he knew him too well by now.
Eddie lingered in the doorway, just simply watching. Watching those hands- the ones that had clawed through mud for him- now measuring out grounds with care. Watching the way Buck moved through the space like he belonged here.
Because he did.
"Buck," Eddie said softly. He couldn’t wait any longer. The words had been building in his chest all day now and he couldn’t wait another second.
Buck turned, leaning against the counter, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
Eddie closed the distance in three long steps, moving into Buck’s space until they were barely inches apart. There was no more holding back, he had to speak straight from his heart, every word pouring out like water finally released from a dam. "I spent a long time thinking I had to protect Christopher from the world," he began, his voice steady even as emotion tightened in his throat. "Shield him from loss, from hurt. And then I spent even longer thinking I had to protect you- from us. From the responsibility, the chaos of our lives. That's really why I hid the will for a year. I know I said a little earlier but I was scared of burdening you, of tying you down and I told myself then that I was giving you an out, letting you build your own life without having us hanging over you like some kind of burden."
Buck started to protest, shaking his head, but Eddie pressed on, his hand finding Buck's where it rested flat on the countertop.
“But today... hearing what you did at that well... it's been replaying in my head all shift." Eddie’s thumb brushed over the back of Buck’s knuckles as he spoke, and Buck’s gaze dropped to their hands. Eddie’s fingers were calloused and sure, fitting against his own like they were made to be there.
"I realized I’ve had it all backward.” Eddie continued. “You weren't waiting for me to ask you to be part of this family. You were already digging your way in- literally- before I even knew how deep I needed you."
As the words settled between them, Buck’s fingers slowly curled around Eddie’s, their hands folding together so naturally, palm to palm and fingers to fingers. He didn’t look up right away, just watched how perfectly their hands fit together, how Eddie was watching his own hands earlier.
Buck's expression softened, a small, vulnerable smile tugging at his lips. "I told you, Eddie. I'm not going anywhere. I haven't been 'anywhere else' since the day we met. You and Chris... you're my home."
Eddie reached up, cupping Buck's face, thumb brushing away the trace of a tear. "I know…” He whispered. “And Chris knows it too. You’re his dad as much as I am. You’re the one who comes home to him too, who loves him like he’s your blood. No one else loves that boy more than you.”
He pulled Buck in then, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft at first- tentative, like they were both afraid to break this fragile new moment- but deepened just as quick as years of pent-up emotion and unspoken words poured out between them. It was warm and solid as home, and a promise, gentle with passion, every touch of their lips saying what they’d held back for so long.
Eddie murmured against Buck’s mouth, his voice thick with feeling, “I’ve been in love with you since… god, since before I even knew what to call it.”
Buck kissed him back harder, his free hand finding the small of Eddie’s back to pull him closer, their bodies pressing together as if trying to become one.
When Eddie pulled back just enough to breathe, he muttered against Buck’s lips again, “Thank you…”
Buck shook his head, no thanks needed, his eyes shining as he looked at Eddie, letting him finish.
“For fighting for us even when I didn’t know we were worth fighting for. For never giving up on me…”
Before Eddie could say more, Buck closed the gap between them. He didn’t answer with words, just kissed him again, slow and deep this time, his lips moving against Eddie’s with deliberate care, pouring all his devotion and love into every touch. His hands framed Eddie’s face, holding him steady as if he never wanted to let go.
Thank you for digging through dirt and rock and god knows what else just to get to me in that well. Eddie thought, kissing Buck back harder over and over like he never wanted to stop. Because he never did want to stop. If he kept kissing Buck, it was like he could tell him everything he’d been feeling these past few years by pouring it into kiss after kiss.
Thank you for saving all of me.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and grinning, Buck rested his forehead against Eddie's. "I never will," he whispered, reaching up and cupping Eddie’s face, his thumb tracing light strokes across Eddie’s cheeks. “I’ll never give up on you, not ever.” He pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, he searched Eddie’s face- flushed and happy, eyes shining with tears and something bright and new- before saying clearly, "I love you too, Eddie. So much." Eddie hadn’t need to say it, everything he’d just poured out was an I love you and everything inbetween.
A wave of pure joy crossed Eddie’s face, his smile so wide it made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Because he knew Buck meant it. He would never give up him. Him nor Chris. Not ever.
Eddie leaned in to press a soft kiss to Buck’s forehead, then pulled him close again, holding him tight against his chest.
They stood there for a long moment, just breathing each other in, the quiet kitchen wrapped around them like a hug.
Until from down the hallway, the floorboards creaked and a sleepy Christopher appeared, glasses askew, rubbing his eyes. He didn't bat an eye at seeing Buck there at 1:00 a.m.- it was as normal as the sun rising. "Buck? You staying for breakfast too?" He mumbled, propping his half asleep body against the doorframe.
Buck glanced at Eddie, a question in his eyes. Eddie nodded, squeezing his hand, a small knowing smile, tugging at his lips- a silent always.
"Yeah, Chris," Buck said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm staying."
Christopher grinned sleepily, content, his eyes landing on Eddie with his hand wrapped around Buck’s like his life depended on it.
”Finally…” Christopher mumbled sleepily, the biggest yawn escaping him.
Eddie didn't let go of Buck's hand after that, their fingers still woven together as he looked from his son to the man he loved. The scars on their palms, the secret of the will, all the near-misses and close calls they'd faced together- they faded into the background like distant storms.
What mattered was this, the three of them, whole and unbreakable. The earth could shift beneath their feet for all it wanted, send walls crashing or wells collapsing- nothing would tear them apart now. Their foundation was solid, built from years of trust and love and fighting for each other, laying deep roots in the ground just as Buck had once dug through just to reach him.
All the memories behind them just echoes in the dark.