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“You want to be my dad again?” Christopher asks, and he sounds surprised.
“I’ve always been your dad,” Eddie replies, feeling like he’s been flayed open. “Christopher. I’m always going to be your dad.”
Christopher grins, a little goofy. His bunny teeth dig into his lower lip, pleased. Eddie grins at him, hugging him tight. They’re both a little gross, covered in spit up and the lingering smell of shitty sanitiser, but Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way. Christopher tucks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulder.
“I missed you so much,” Eddie breathes, kissing his cheek.
“Me too,” Christopher answers softly. “Can we get out of here, though?”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughs. “Come on.”
He lets go of Christopher, ruffling his hair. He hoists Christopher’s crutches on his shoulders when he waves them off—and Eddie’s walking out of the shitty rec center bathroom, a spring in his step.
“Eddie!” Ramon calls out, the second they turn the corner. Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “What happened?”
“He doesn’t want to play anymore,” Eddie says simply, breezing past his father. God, he feels like he’s on top of the world. “We’re going home.”
“You can’t go home,” Ramon replies, baffled. “Eddie, he’s worked so hard to get here, do you even know how many qualifiers he’s had to get through?”
“Dad,” Eddie interrupts, squeezing Christopher’s shoulder. “He doesn’t like chess. He hates it, and doesn’t want to play anymore. I’m not going to force him to do that. Nobody’s going to force him to play if he doesn’t want to.”
Christopher ducks his head to hide his grin, and Eddie can’t bite back his smile. He knows exactly what Christopher’s feeling right this second—the thrill that comes from defying Ramon Diaz.
“Christopher,” His father tries, and Eddie subtly moves so he’s half-shielding his kid. “Son—”
“Sorry grandpa,” Christopher grins, sheepish.
Eddie laughs, ruffling his hair. “Come on,” he grins, and starts jogging backwards. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Eddie!” his father yells, exasperated, but Eddie sticks his fingers in his ears. Christopher laughs, bright and loud.
Eddie smiles at him, fond and proud. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head, holding his hand out for Christopher. “He’ll turn into the grinch if we’re here another second.”
Christopher snorts. “He does get that look on his face sometimes,” he giggles, taking Eddie’s hand. “It’s so weird.”
“You have no idea,” Eddie laughs. “Sophia made him a birthday card with the grinch’s face on it one year—you should’ve seen the look on his face. Exactly like the one Sophia drew.”
“No way,” Christopher gasps. “Aunt Soph did that?”
“Yes way,” Eddie confirms, grinning brightly as he remembers that night. “Adri and I lost it.”
“That’s fucking hilarious,” Christopher laughs. Eddie raises an eyebrow at the cursing, but he’s secretly pleased. Like father, like son.
“Sorry,” Christopher says, sheepish. “I curse now.”
“That’s normal,” Eddie waves off. “I had the mouth of a sailor when I was your age.”
“I know,” Christopher says, amused. “Aunt Soph showed me a video.”
“That traitor,” Eddie hisses, but his eyes are sparkling. “What else did she show you?”
“So many things,” Christopher cackles. “Ballroom dancing, dad? Really?”
“Hey now,” Eddie protests, holding Christopher’s door for him. “I loved dancing!”
“Was all that glitter necessary, though?” Christopher teases, ducking under Eddie’s arm. “No one else had so much glitter.”
“What can I say,” Eddie grins, leaning on the door. “I’ve always been dramatic.”
Christopher laughs, and Eddie’s heart soars. “Mwah,” he leans down and presses a fat kiss to his baby’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” Christopher says, easily. “Can we stop for fries on the way?”
“Course,” Eddie agrees, kicking the door shut. “Anything you want.”
They’re maybe two hours into the drive back to home—El Paso, when Buck’s face lights up Eddie’s phone.
“S’that Buck?” Christopher asks, perking up. “Pick up!”
“You’re gonna have to do it, baby,” Eddie says, glancing at the phone for a second before he looks back at the road. “Got my hands full at the moment.” He switches lanes, swearing softly at the tension in his shoulders.
There’s a little bit of shuffling, but he sees Christopher swiping to answer Buck’s call, grinning.
“Hi, Buck,” Christopher says, delighted. Eddie swears there are stars in his eyes.
“Christopher!” Buck cheers, and Eddie grins stupidly at the road. “How are you, honey?”
“Good,” Chris replies, still grinning. “Great, actually.”
“Where’s Eddie?” Buck asks, and Christopher flips the camera to show him. Eddie waves with one hand, half-assed, before he grabs the gear again. “Hi, Buck,” he says, and has to bite his lip at how happy he sounds.
“Hey,” Buck laughs, easy. God, everything’s so fucking easy when it comes to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the tournament right now?”
“We left,” Christopher answers.
“Oh,” Buck says, surprised. Eddie desperately wants to see him, so he slows down a little—moving to the edges of the road. He leans back, trying to catch a glimpse, and grins stupidly when he finally sees Buck—all decked up in an apron, flour dusting his cheek and his curls. He’s baking again.
“I hate chess,” Christopher replies, sheepish.
Buck cackles. “No fucking way,” he says, surprised. “Really?”
“Really,” Christopher confirms, eyes sparkling. “Dad said I didn’t have to play if I didn’t want to, so we hauled ass out of there.”
“Oh my god,” Buck laughs, and Eddie feels like he’s floating. His favorite people in the world, laughing. “You’re fucking with me, right?”
“Nope,” Eddie says, over Christopher’s cackling. “Left my dad waiting for the bus and now we’re driving back home.”
“Jesus,” Buck tries to smother a laugh. “You left your father in Lubbock? Alone?”
“Oh shit,” Christopher’s eyes widen in realisation. “Dad!”
“Eh, he’ll be fine,” Eddie huffs. “Didn’t want him to lose a seat on the bus.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Buck cackles, bright with joy. “Menaces, the both of you.”
Christopher grins. “I’m moving back with Dad,” he tells Buck, and he sounds so fucking happy. Buck inhales sharply, audible through the phone. “Today.”
“That’s—oh my god, I’m so happy for you,” Buck babbles, and Eddie laughs. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Eddie confirms, beaming. “He’s moving in.”
Buck laughs, bright and Eddie swears sunshine floods his system. Christopher starts talking about everything that’s wrong with chess, and Buck listens attentively, propping the phone on the counter. Eddie relaxes back into his seat, switching to the fourth gear.
He turns the radio down low, listening to his favorite people talk each other’s ear off.
It’s brilliant.
“What did grandma say?” Christopher asks, when Eddie gets back into the car. “Was she mad?”
“Nope,” Eddie grins. “Confused, sure—but she didn’t make too much of a fuss.”
“That’s good,” Christopher breathes, relaxing a little. “Holy shit.”
Eddie laughs, strapping his seatbelt on. “Yeah.”
“Holy shit,” Christopher laughs. “Dad. Oh my god,” he cackles in disbelief. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Eddie confirms, still a little surprised. He thought there’d be more of a fight, but there wasn’t really—just Eddie taking what was his. “Promise.”
“God,” Christopher leans back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the dash. “Wow. Kinda wish we could go back home, just like that.”
“Home?” Eddie asks, surprised. “What’s—you mean LA?”
“Yeah,” Christopher says, shy. “I don’t know. I’ve had enough of living here.”
“Christopher,” Eddie says slowly, and he’s pretty sure his eyes are blown wide open. “Baby, are you saying you wanna move back? Back home, to LA?”
“Yeah,” Christopher shrugs. “I miss it. I miss Buck.”
“So do I, bud,” he says, voice catching. “Chris, are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want—”
“I want,” Christopher confirms, and he sounds breathless, a little bit. “Don’t worry, though—I know we can’t just pack our bags and leave overnight, you’ve got work and the house—”
“Actually, we can,” Eddie says, heart thundering. “I can quit working—”
“Just like that?” Christopher interrupts, eyebrows high.
“Just like that,” Eddie confirms, glancing over at his kid. “There’s not a lot of stuff at the house, we could probably be packed in an hour, give or take. We could move tonight, if you want.”
“You’re kidding,” Christopher breathes, but he sounds hopeful.
“I’m not,” Eddie replies, and his heart skips a beat. “We could.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Christopher’s lips part in shock. “Oh,” he says, and then stares at Eddie’s face. “Oh, shit. We could actually go home.”
“Yup,” Eddie nods his head, trying to calm the racing in his blood. “Yes, we can.”
“Okay,” Christopher says, breathless and rushed. “Okay, let’s go home.”
“Really?” Eddie asks—begs, really—desperate. “You’re sure?”
“I’m so fucking sure,” Christopher grins wide, and his joy is blinding. “Dad, let’s go home.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie laughs, and then he can’t stop laughing, tears running down his face. “Oh my god.”
“What’s so funny?” Christopher asks, but he’s giggling too. “Why’re you laughing?”
“No, I,” Eddie starts, but laughs helplessly again. “Buck’s going to piss himself when we show up at home.”
“We’re surprising him?” Christopher asks, delighted. “Seriously? We’re not calling him?”
“Nah,” Eddie says, and pulls into his driveway. “We’re going to surprise him.”
“Fuck yeah,” Christopher agrees, pleased, and he’s flying out of the car the second Eddie hits the brakes.
Eddie takes a second to breathe, so much joy coursing through his blood he doesn’t know what the hell to do with it.
“Fuck,” he swears softly, grinning, and then he’s getting out of the car, racing his kid to the doorstep.
They’re going home. They’re going home.
Buck doesn’t piss himself when they show up at home in the middle of the night—he lifts Christopher off the ground with his bear hug, laughing and crying all at once.
He kisses Eddie—and yeah.
Eddie’s finally home.