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The thing about old habits is that they die hard.
It’s a cliche saying for a reason.
Trying to break a habit by never letting yourself acknowledge it besides shaming yourself, never works out.
It will always come back, and it will come back screaming. Screaming in every nook and cranny of your life. At work, it is hiding in the supply closet, waiting for you to grab a broom.
At home it’s under the bed, waiting for you to drop your phone and have to bend down to pick it up.
The reality is, If you don’t acknowledge it, it will soon enough acknowledge you.
Evan has always been one to run from his problems. He thinks it might be a family trait, starting with his parents running from what happened to Daniel. Keeping it locked in the basement no one knew they had.
Maddie was a perfect example of it as well, though it didn’t seem fair to use her as one. He didn’t blame her anymore, not that he liked to admit he ever had.
Buck wants to be angry with his teenage self, that he ever picked up the habit, but he knows he was just doing what he felt he had to to survive. That Evan didn’t know how it would haunt him even as he got older. Not just as physical scars but in the way he saw things, how he acknowledges pain.
Because old habits never truly die.
They are ghosts that haunt your narrative. Sometimes you don’t see them, but their imprint is there. They affect everything around them, even if it’s in a microscopic way.
When he was 16, Maddie caught him. She had been home visiting for what felt like the first time in forever.
She cried for so long, just holding him as if she thought that if she let go in that moment he would simply disappear.
She blamed herself, blamed their parents, blamed the world around them. She made him promise to never do it again. Evan never picked up a blade after that, but he found other ways. Ways he could tell himself wasn’t really self harm. He would deny, deny, deny till he was blue in the face.
He got drunk at every possible occasion, drowning out the urge, giving in to the lack of control instead of grasping at a rope frayed down to its last thread.
He had sex with anyone who wanted him, because at least he was wanted. He felt dirty and used, but at least he wasn’t invisible, if only for a moment.
When he looks back now, he’s not angry at that kid, he's just sad.
Eddie and him are laying in bed, Buck head on Eddie’s chest. Which, yes, is a new development, a very good development. They had just had some much needed adult time. Chris was staying the night at his Abuelas, leaving them with the whole house to themselves.
They laid there now, skin on skin tracing scars like constellations in the galaxy. Knowing them both they probably had as many scars between them as there were stars in the sky. Though, that may be an exaggeration.
“What are these? I haven’t seen them before.” Eddie asked, innocently, gently tracing the scars on his inner thigh with his fingers.
And if that didn’t make his heart stop, he didn’t think Eddie would even see them. They were so faint, only the worst ones really showed, being raised ever so slightly.
“Well, of course you haven’t seen them, we haven’t been this close before.” Buck quipped, letting out a short, breathy laugh.
“True. I like being this close to you.” Eddie said looking into his eyes, smiling down at him. “Though, you didn’t answer my question.”
God, Eddie Diaz was going to be the death of him; His smile, his fucking face. He just wished he would stop asking about those scars.
That wasn’t really fair, though, as he was the one who brought up the topic of scars in the first place, tracing over one of Eddies, from the shooting. Eddie didn’t mind; he knew why Buck was focused on it. It showed how close Eddie was to being ripped away from him, and now he's just here, lying under him like nothing ever really happened.
“I…” He paused, thinking of a lie. He came up with a few, none which were very good.
I don’t remember. That’s just lazy.
I used to be a chubbier kid. They’re stretch marks. Eddie’s seen pictures of him, he knows he was practically a stick that could blow away in a slight breeze.
In the end, he found he didn’t want to lie.
“You know how I’d get hurt as a kid, for my parents' attention?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
Eddie looked slightly puzzled, not because he didn’t know, but because he didn’t see where this was going.
“Yeah, I remember you telling everyone that and just laughing it off. I didn’t think it was very funny, though.”
Buck moved from Eddie’s chest sitting up against the headboard; Eddie followed suit.
“When I was like 14, I think, it was after Maddie left with Doug…” Eddie made a gagging sound at Doug's name and Buck couldn’t help but giggle even with the seriousness of the topic. Eddie had a way of making things less daunting, especially now that they were together.
He grabbed his boyfriend's hand, pulling it over into his space before he continued. “I- I felt so out of control and I can’t say exactly what was going through my head, but it seemed like a good idea. I had heard of kids at school doing it and well…” Buck threw his free hand up in the air, gesturing.
When he looked at Eddie, he could tell he could see where this was going, but he needed to say it, so he continued.
“I stole my mom’s razor, and it just went from there. Until I was sixteen and Maddie found out, made me promise to never do it again. God, she was so heart broken, Eddie. I still remember her face. I don’t think I could ever forget it.
Eddie squeezed his hand, a show of silent support. It was a few seconds before he spoke.
“Have you done it since then?” He asked, a scared look in his eyes.
“Um, not exactly. Not intentionally no. You know how I can be with my safety and what not? I guess that can sometimes stem from that, when I’m in a bad place, you know.” Buck stuttered out his words.
Eddie nodded, seeming to understand what he meant.
“When I cut my palm, a while back making food for Chris and you; I’m not sure if you remember. It wasn’t necessarily intentional; I think my brain just subconsciously went back to those old habits. Back then, when I was a teenager, it was my main response to stress. Even the littlest amounts of it. It’s not like now it’s my first response by any means. But sometimes, that subconscious thought is there. I barely pay any mind to it, but in the back of my head for a second.” Buck says, pointing towards his head as if to emphasize his words.
“Most of the time it's when I least expect it, I don’t even want to act on it, and I hate it. I hate that after so many years it’s still there. There're only ever a few moments that it’s something I ever actually want to act on. And I only say that so you don’t worry, but now that I’m saying it, by your face I can see it doesn’t help.” Buck sighs, looking away rubbing a hand across his face.
Eddie lets go of his hand, and for a second Buck thinks he might be mad, God forbid, disappointed. Then he reaches up to gently cup Buck’s face, moving it to face his own.
“Buck, of course it worries me, but I know you. I know how strong you are.”
Buck tries to deny it, but Eddie isn’t having it, quickly speaking over any attempts to diminish himself.
“No, don’t even think about it. You are. This doesn’t change that. You felt so out of control, and you were just trying to survive, and I am so glad you did, Evan. You are not weak for that. And to overcome that to be where you are now; I’m so proud of you. I love you so goddamn much.”
Buck’s crying now, out of anything he expected Eddie to say, it wasn’t that; That he was proud of him.
“I didn’t overcome it though, it’s still there.”
“Yeah, it is, but you’ve pushed through it. I don’t fully understand, though I understand from what you’ve said that it doesn’t control you anymore. Those habits aren't front and center now, are they?” Eddie asked, looking into his eyes, reading him like a book. It’s the best and scariest feeling at the same time, having someone who knows you so well, almost, if not better than you know yourself.
“No, they’re not.” He says, wiping away the tears that keep falling despite his efforts.
“And if it ever gets to that, I’m here, okay?”
“You wouldn’t be disappointed, if it gets that bad again?” He asked, insecurity he tries to keep hidden away but continuously does a horrendous job of doing so, showing through.
“No, never.”
At that, he knows any attempt at trying to keep tears at bay are pointless. Eddie pulls him in, holding him close, letting him get his shirt wet, quieting any attempt at apologizing, both for his shirt and the tears in general.
And Buck thinks, with Eddie by his side, acknowledging what’s been hiding in all the dark corners of his life, isn’t so scary.
Because for all the bad, he isn’t alone.