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After their reprise of “Carry On My Wayward Son,” Buck and Eddie spent the next hour shuffling through a random playlist, lipsyncing when they knew the words and skipping songs that didn’t interest them. The events of the past few days sat morosely in the back of their minds, neither of them ready to open up. Their first medically-prescribed break was at a gas station. Buck waited for Eddie to refill the tank before they made their way inside for a snack and quick restroom detour. Though Eddie didn’t quite need the relief, he still followed Buck through the doors of the men’s room. He was not letting Buck go anywhere alone until they were back safe in L.A.
“Eddie.” He heard from the stall.
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to be my guard dog the whole way back? I’m fine as long as we keep stopping every 90 minutes.” The toilet flushed and he opened the door with an eyebrow raised inquisitively. Eddie ducked his head down, face flushed in slight embarrassment.
“Look, man. I know that physically you’re ‘fine’ and ‘cleared’ but if the local authorities were any indication for that town’s ability to do their job, I will trust only myself with your care. Did they even really do a thorough check? Should either of us really be doing this long of a drive?” His arms had swung up in his frustration. Buck pushed passed him through the door.
“Eddie, they cleared us because you have the medical training to know what to do. I also know we couldn’t waste more time getting back, even if Hen and Karen aren’t even there. You have Christopher waiting for you and I don’t think Maddie is going to relax again until she sees me in person.” Buck was heading down an aisle full of chips, weighing his options as Eddie trailed behind him.
“Christopher isn’t who I’m worried about. I-I…” He sighed as he thought over his next words. Buck paused his perusing and turned his attention to Eddie. “I just don’t want something to happen to you again, okay?”
Buck’s eyes softened and a soft smile grew on his face.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” He moved a hand to gently touch Eddie and the hinge of his elbow. “I’m worried about you, too.”
“Me?!”
“Yes, you,” he responded with an eyeroll. He continued on down the aisle, grabbing things as he went. His arms flailed and gesticulated with his words. “Edmundo Diaz. Eddie. Eds. The guy who didn’t stop looking for me. The guy who had a gun pointed at him and still fought.The guy who–” They had reached the counter where Buck placed the assorted snacks and drinks before pulling out his wallet. Or rather, he would have if he still had a wallet. His entire body deflated as he turned to Eddie.
“...the guy who has to pay because that bitch Bonnie destroyed my wallet and my identity.”
Ignoring the underlying tension within Buck’s words, Eddie leaned over and tapped his card to pay. He sent a quick “thanks man” to the cashier before nodding his head toward the exit.
“C’mon. Let’s go.” They walked back to the car in silence. Buck’s mind was going a million miles a minute, trying to find what he said to make Eddie upset. Was it when he called him “eds?” Or was it when he called him out in the bathroom. He had thought about not bringing it up, but when they walked into the men’s room he at least expected his partner to walk into another stall. It did make him secretly happy that Eddie was, and still is, so protective of anyone in the 118, but he also didn’t want to feel like a burden. Eddie had already been subjected to being the designated driver for the last 10 hours; Buck didn’t want him to worry about anything else.
They pulled out of the lot in silence.
Five minutes back onto the 10, Buck spoke again.
“I’m sorry.”
The sentence was said so quietly, Eddie barely heard him.
“What?”
“I said, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“What could you possibly have to be sorry for, Evan?” Buck had been tightly curled toward the window, watching the scenery go by. His head whipped around upon hearing his name. His face was one of confusion: eyebrows scrunched together, lips slightly parted in an “o” shape, his jaw tense.
“What do I have to be sorry for?” His breathing quickened, chest visibly rising and falling as his words came out. “You had to jump out of a window, hitchhike by horse, buy a new car, for fuck’s sake, just to come find me. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am very grateful you never stopped looking. But…but when you got to the property, I-I had to beg her not to go and kill you. All of this because I made you get off of the highway.”
Eddie gripped the steering wheel hard as he contemplated what to say next. He needed to say this in a way Buck could fully understand. The man was always finding a way to blame himself even when he was not the cause.
“Buck, I am not having this conversation again. We argued about it in that diner and apologized to each other in the car after. Before…” He glanced at Buck and opened his hand, the gesture taking the place of words. “...yeah. Anyway, you never forced my hand. I would’ve been even more of a grump, as you like to describe it, if we had stayed on I-40. I trust you. I don’t trust small towns in New Mexico. That is who owes me an apology. We could’ve found you much quicker if the sheriff hadn’t’ve been so…”
“So…what?”
“So stuck in the 1920’s,” Eddie said with a gruff. Buck laughed.
“Are you not also stuck in the ‘20’s? Mr. ‘No Hildy products in my household?’”
“No, no, no. I don’t like the rate at which technology is advancing. That is different,” he defended, his finger moving pointedly in Buck’s direction. “This man made assumptions and didn’t listen to me. Made a lot of weird comments, too.”
“Weird how?” At this point, Buck was fully turned in his seat, attention focused on the man driving the car.
“I don’t know, Buck. He just–” Eddie’s shoulders had risen scarily close to his ears, his grip tightening even more around the steering wheel. “I told him about the guys at the diner. How we had a run-in of sorts.” Buck nodded along in agreement. “I told him to look at them because they were the most likely. He accused me, Buck. He thought I killed you for some reason. I don’t even know how he got to that conclusion. I was alone and unconscious in our car and you were missing. Why was I the target?”
“I am completely and totally with you Eddie. But he didn’t know us. He had trust in the people of his town, as wrongfully placed as it was. I don’t think he had any ill intentions toward you.”
“Maybe…” His expression softened to a more inquisitive look. He still held tension throughout his body, but he was more confused than anything else. The two settled into a comfortable silence, the soft tunes of the radio filling the void until their next stop.
Several stops and five hours later, they finally crossed into California.
“Okay,” Buck started. “Dinner. What are we thinking?”
“I’m thinking somewhere that doesn’t have the word ‘diner’ in it,” Eddie stated sardonically. “How about an actual sit down place where there’s a waiter and everything.” Buck looked at his arms, Eddie’s face and the bandages keeping them both intact.
“I don’t know Eddie. What place is going to let us in like this? We look like hell.”
“We’ll just have to stop for a change of clothes, it’s fine.” Eddie shrugged. He stared into Buck’s eyes for an unsafe amount of time before turning back to the road ahead. “Look and see if you can’t find a Walmart or something still open.” Buck grabbed Eddie’s phone, seeing as his was still smashed to pieces back in New Mexico evidence.
“You sure you can navigate for a few minutes without GPS?” Buck teased.
“Hey, I’m not the one who got us lost, remember?” Eddie parried. Buck opened his mouth to counter, but Eddie didn’t even let him finish the train of thought. “I’m kidding by the way. Please don’t argue with me, I just want to have some nice dinner and then get home, okay?” His voice softened at the end to show Buck he was serious.
“Okay,” Buck still wasn’t fully convinced Eddie wasn’t irritated but he looked at the maps in his hands. “It looks like there’s a Target coming up in Palm Springs. We go there then find a restaurant with walkin availability and then hope we don’t get turned away?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Eddie concluded.
“Sounds like a date to me,” Buck muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing, Eddie. Keep your eyes on the road.”
“How much longer until the exit?”
“Thirty more minutes.”
“Okay.” Eddie really wanted to know what Buck had muttered. He could’ve sworn he heard “date” in there somewhere. But they were just getting some food after a long trip and less-than-stellar experiences. They would be celebrating making it through yet another trauma alive and barely harmed. Though he suspected Buck was a little bit more than barely harmed. He’d been through a lot and Eddie didn’t know how to help. Buck still hadn’t told him everything that happened in that house. He summed it up with a brief “she kept me in that room and made me play ‘Derek’ and then tied me to the pole.” He said the words so casually it broke Eddie’s heart. Why was he so blase? Why did he put everyone else’s needs above his own? Why didn’t he see how amazing and wonderful and-
Oh.
Oh. Okay.
Shit, Eddie thought. Maybe this is a date. His knuckles were turning white with how tight he was gripping the wheel now. He was not going to make it through the next thirty minutes much less the next three hours.
Their stop at Target took longer than expected.
“Eddie, please. Convince me this shirt looks okay because I kind of hate it.” Buck was panicking outside of his dressing room. “I don’t think I can wear another striped shirt ever again, so I have to make this work.” The shirt was a white button-up with daisies all over. The fit was perfect, the cuff and collar adding a pop of green when folded just right.
You look good in everything. Eddie cleared his throat with a slight shake of his head.
“It’s fine, Buck. Now please pick something so we can eat before every place is closed.”
“Okay, okay, geez.” He shuffled back behind the door to change back. “Did you find a place to eat?”
“Yeah.” Eddie pulled up his maps again. “This place called ‘Hannah’s’ is only five minutes away and seems just fancy enough to get good food but not so fancy that they won’t let us in.”
“Cool.” There was some shuffling as Buck continued getting dressed. He was still pulling his shirt over his head when he emerged again. Eddie inhaled sharply. He’s seen Buck shirtless before but now…He felt a hand on his arm, jerking him from his train of thought.
“Sorry, what?” He asked.
“I just said I’m ready to go, but you had a 1000-yard-stare going on.” He took a step closer to Eddie. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive still? We’re close enough to L.A., I’m sure someone can come get us. Or we can stay here for the night. I just don’t want you to push yourself.”
Eddie took a step back. What he really needed was space to think, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon. He cleared his throat again, turning and exiting the dressing rooms.
“Nah, I’m good. Especially after some food. I don’t think I’ve had a solid meal in at least 24 hours.”
“....Right.” Buck stood in the aisle for a second, frozen by Eddie’s actions. There it was again. He showed an iota of concern and Eddie brushed him off. What was going on?