Chapter Text
Buck has been positively strange the past few weeks. Stranger than usual. Which is a high bar to clear.
It started on the drive back from New Mexico. It was quiet, which was atypical. On the drive from Nashville, aside from the many times Buck was asleep, it was never quiet. Buck was always chattering about something. He’d hardly said a word on their prescribed stops. But they’d both been through a trauma, Buck even more so. So, Eddie didn’t push.
But then they were back in Los Angeles. And Buck… seemed fine. As though a switch had been flipped. They greeted their friends, and instead of the lethargic version of himself he’d been for the past half-day, he was back to his normal, upbeat self.
It was unnerving.
Both of them took off their next shift to recover from their physical injuries, which they would’ve needed even if they’d only been through a car wreck. Which wasn’t the case. Buck was supposed to schedule an appointment with a therapist. He said he’d schedule it.
And now he was saying he would reschedule it. Because Maddie and Chimney had invited him to dinner and he couldn’t deny them. So, he cancelled his therapy appointment. And didn’t mention it to Eddie. And when it was brought up he said he was going to reschedule. As in, he hadn’t yet. As in, he was avoiding it.
That was bad enough. If that were all there was, Eddie would still be concerned. But it wasn’t all there was.
Maybe Eddie was being incessant— not that he didn’t have good reason to— and that was putting Buck off. Maybe that’s why there was a wall being built between them. So, Eddie attempted to reach out to him. Make a peace offering.
He brought Chris and pizza. The worst kind of pizza, Hawaiian-style, but it was the kind he liked. And this was a peace offering. So, if Eddie had to bite the bullet, the bullet being fruit on a savory staple, he would.
He tried to get Buck to come to the door. He shouldn’t have been anywhere else; he hadn’t mentioned going anywhere else. But after a few minutes of waiting outside the house, he couldn’t justify looking like he was casing the joint. They gave up. They walked away.
And then Eddie saw movement. The blinds— he saw them shift, heard the smallest rustle from inside.
Something was wrong.
Buck had never ignored Christopher. They’d known each other nearly a decade, and he never turned him away. So, whatever Buck was going through— which, Eddie had a few guesses— it was bad.
—
After bickering on calls all day, Eddie decided to formally suggest they all have dinner together. Buck agreed rather easily. Which meant he wasn’t avoiding them to avoid them, he wasn’t upset with them. Something else was going on.
The dinner was normal enough. He took a while to come to the door, citing his macarons, which seemed plausible enough. And when Eddie pressed him about his recovery, he continued to say that he was fine.
The Diazes left. They walked out the front door and made it all the way to the car before Eddie realized…
“I left my keys inside. Sorry,” he said as he weaved his way around the vehicle to get back to the house.
“Grab more cookies!” Christopher called out. Eddie rolled his eyes.
He pulled the door open, calling out his actions into the unlit home. He heard a clatter to his left. Why was the house so dark? He pawed at the wall and flicked a light on, revealing Buck kneeling on the ground, hand behind his back.
“I left my keys,” he said, as Buck scrambled to stand, connecting his arms behind his back.
“No problem,” Buck said stiffly as he turned in place, eyes following Eddie as he moved around the room.
Eddie grabbed his keys, glancing away for a second. When he looked back, Buck was standing slightly on his the balls of his feet, eyes closed in what looked like a silent prayer. He heard something faintly, but chose not to mention it, instead walking back toward him. He brought him into a hug, which Buck eventually returned.
“I really care about you. You know that, right?” Buck nodded his head, not saying anything, but Eddie could feel it, which meant more. “You know that I’m here for you, whatever you need?”
Buck pushed him away, a tight smile crossing his face. “Of course. Now, go. You don’t wanna keep Chris waiting.”
Eddie laughed lightly— more of a pointed exhale— keeping up the ruse. He turned to leave, took one step, and felt something under his shoe. He lifted his foot and was greeted with a circular, white pill.
He knelt down to pick it up, and realized what Buck was doing when he walked in. He shot up, turning to face him with the pill between his thumb and index finger. Tears pricked at his eyes. He tried to look at Buck in the eyes, but he was staring intently at the ground.
Eddie looked out, or more accurately at, the window, and took a deep breath. “I’m coming back,” he said, “If you leave, I will call Athena, and I will tell her everything, and she will start a county-wide manhunt.”
Buck lifted his head almost-imperceptibly. A nod. An acknowledgement.
Eddie jogged back to the car. He drove as normally as he could.
Christopher recognized the turn he was supposed to take to get back to their house. “Dad, are you okay?”
“I will be, I’m just— I’m taking you to Hen’s.”
He almost began to object, but instead said, “Does Hen know?”
“Call her. My phone. Put her on speaker.”
He followed the instructions, and the line rang twice before she picked up. Concern was at the edges of her voice, “Eddie, why are you calling me?”
“I’m fine. I’m just going to drop Chris off. Figured I should give you a heads up.”
She went silent for a moment, likely telling Karen of the impromptu guest, before she drawled out, “Okay. Can I ask why?”
Eddie sucked in a breath. He had to relay to Hen what was happening without alerting Chris. “I just really need to run an errand, and I don’t want to leave Chris alone. Y’know, I can’t remember what your house number is. 10-40?”
“You’ve been coming over to my house how many years and you still mess it up. It’s 104.” Good. She got the message.
“Right.” He hit his palm against the wheel, trying to sell it. Eddie isn’t stupid— he knows Chris isn’t falling for it, he’ll know something’s wrong, he probably memorized emergency codes at some point— but he’s hoping he can delay the discovery as long as possible. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
They arrived at Hen’s, and Christopher hopped out of the car. Eddie promised he would be back soon.
With Chris out of the car, Eddie was able to drive as fast as he safely could. In all, he was gone less than half an hour. Buck’s truck was miraculously still parked outside. He walked in, happy the door was still unlocked, and saw Buck just sitting on the couch. Staring at nothing.
He walked over, lowering himself onto the couch. “Explain.” Buck looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything. Eddie said, “I won’t ask where they’re from. I don’t care. If you’re hiding them, it’s for a reason. So, why are you taking them.”
He took another deep breath, before saying, “They just… dull it.”
“Dulls what?”
“Everything.”
Eddie’s face fell. His heart sunk. A pit formed in his stomach. Any physical response to [pain] that one could have, Eddie was experiencing. “What do you mean, ‘everything’?”
“I mean Bonnie and that damn electric rod. And Derek’s stupid shirt. And my parents getting divorced, which I barely even care about.” He tilted his head. “Bobby.” He let out a shaky exhale, “And Daniel. Everything. It’s all been building up for a year— more than— and those make it easier.”
Eddie looked at him, closely. The room was still dark, but he understood why now. “At work?”
“No. I never— not on the job,” he said defensively. He continued, “Or around Chris. That’s why I didn’t open the door the other day. I didn’t want him to see me when I was—”
“High. You didn’t want him to see you high.”
Buck looked up, nodding slightly, a few tears falling down his face.
“I can give you credit for that. But I can’t understand that you were doing this— self-medicating, if we’re being generous— and not seeing a therapist.”
“I don’t have the best experience with therapy,” Buck said simply.
“But you have to talk to someone—”
“I don’t want to relive it! I want it to go away!”
Eddie pursed his lips. “It’s not going away. It will never go away. Believe me. You have to get to a place where you can move on. And you can’t do that alone.”
“But I am. No one else gets it. No one else can get it. And, frankly, I don’t want anyone else to get it.” He took a deep breath. “I am alone.”
Eddie moved closer to him on the couch. “No, you aren’t. Just say the word, and you will have the most annoyingly-supportive support system anyone could ever ask for. Ask me how I know.”
Buck laughed.
“I’m serious. Just say the word.”
Buck’s head lolled forward, and his voice broke, “Help.”