Chapter Text
Buck
Buck takes one look out of the corner of his eye and he knows.
They’re freshly back from a rough call, one with a kid around Chris’s age. He’d been angry at his parents, screamed at them that he hated them and nothing would ever change that. The couple hadn’t flinched, had even gone so far as to apologize to the crew for the way they had to hear it. ODD, we’re getting him help. He has good days and bad days. Eddie hadn’t flinched either. He’d kept his head up, stayed on task, gotten the job done. No one on the crew would have expected anything different. Even now, with his life in pieces and half of his heart in Texas, Eddie doesn’t lose focus at work. (Buck has seen the piles of dirty laundry, had washed a mountain of dishes every time he came over until one day when the cupboards were bare and Eddie admitted he’d thrown them all out and switched to paper plates. But Eddie doesn’t lose focus at work.)
But now, as they’re back in formation for the umpteenth muster call, Gerrard is laying into them about some perceived slight. He bares into them, one by one, and just like every time Buck is seething. He hates the things Gerrard says to him, but he hates the things he says to his friends even more. He can’t tune it out, no matter how hard he tries, which is why he doesn’t miss the almost imperceptible falter before Gerrard starts in on Eddie. Buck steals a glance down the line and his heart drops to his toes. Eddie is just staring at Gerrard- no, he’s staring through him, looking at some point no one else can see.
Buck knows that glassy-eyed gaze. He’s only ever seen it in Eddie’s eyes once before- on the night Chris had called, saying there was something wrong with dad and Buck needed to come quick, and Buck had forced open the door of Eddie’s bedroom to find holes in the wall and a thousand-yard stare in his best friend’s eyes. So Buck doesn’t even think about it. The instant their shift ends he pulls Eddie aside.
“Stay over tonight,” he says. “I have a documentary I’ve been meaning to watch and they’re more fun when I have someone to talk about them with.”
Eddie looks at Buck, and he does manage to actually look at him, so maybe it’s not quite as bad as Buck thought. “Okay,” he says softly. “Yeah, thanks.”
Buck nods. “See you at my place in thirty minutes?” he asks, then rushes out to his Jeep so that he can get back before Eddie and make sure the place is actually clean. He forgets until he’s almost home that of course it is, more than clean in fact. The counters are not just free of clutter but wiped down, the rugs are freshly vacuumed. Tommy’s particular about stuff like that, and Buck has to admit that it’s kind of nice. He’s always thought his loft was fine, but that it was better when someone else was there too. But even when Tommy’s away, either on a shift or at his own apartment, his presence is still there in the loft.
He uses the rest of the time until Eddie arrives to throw a pizza in the oven and stir-fry some vegetables, then pulls out a beer. He’d switched to a nonalcoholic brand a few weeks back, and they’re not half bad. They, unlike the cleaner living arrangements, aren’t Tommy’s doing. On the contrary, he doesn’t understand it. Evan, why would you waste calories on a beer that doesn’t get you drunk?
Eddie doesn’t have a problem with alcohol, at least not that Buck knows of. But he’s got enough other problems that Buck doesn’t want to risk adding another one to the pile. So after Maddie had accidentally bought some for a dinner party and Eddie had said he thought they were pretty good, Buck had announced that he was going to try something new for a while. Now when Eddie comes over they still drink, but they don’t get drunk, and Buck feels safe in knowing that he’s not doing anything to make things worse. The only downside is that Buck has to admit to himself that the buzz he feels around Eddie has never had anything to do with alcohol, but that’s not a new revelation, so it’s bearable.
Eddie lets himself in and drops his duffel by the side of the couch, eyeing the frying pan as he comes into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to cook,” he says, “I could have ordered us in food. Least I could do, actually.”
“The vegetables were going to go bad soon anyway,” Buck lies. He knows Eddie doesn’t want to feel taken care of. Partially because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but largely because Eddie doesn’t want to feel anything at all. Instead, Eddie wants to separate himself from every emotion he’s ever had, evict them all until there’s nothing left but stimulus and response. Buck can see how good Eddie is getting at it. It scares the shit out of him.
After dinner they sit too close together on the couch and watch a few episodes of Drain the Oceans.
“You ever been to Chicago?” Buck asks, gesturing at the screen. A graphic shows a ship traversing Lake Michigan carrying a load of Christmas trees.
Eddie shakes his head. “I had a layover in O’Hare once but that’s it. You?”
“I went a couple years ago for a friend’s wedding and made a week out of it. More than a couple years ago now, I guess. It was right before you joined. But it was super cool- great food. And so many cool museums! Their Museum of Science and Industry is rated one of the best in the country. I’m pretty sure ours is in the top 10 as well.”
“Really?” Eddie says. “I haven’t been. We’ll have to go with Chris sometime. Maybe this weekend?”
Buck has to watch as the realization that his son isn’t here slams into Eddie yet again. Before Buck can say anything Eddie grabs his beer and takes a long drink, and by the time he puts the can back down his eyes are dry again.
“He’s going to come home, Eddie.”
“You don’t know that,” Eddie says. “He hasn’t texted me at all, Buck.” Buck can hear a note of the desperation Eddie has been working so hard to conceal. “Not a single thing. And when I call my mom she tells me he’s doing good, but that’s basically all she’ll say. But he doesn’t want to talk to me and she can’t make him.”
Buck nods. At least Eddie’s talking. Maybe he feels hopeless, but he’s not entirely shut down. There’s still something there.
“Is he at least texting you?” Eddie asks. “You shouldn’t tell me what he’s saying but- he’s texting you, right?”
“Twice,” Buck admits. “Once to tell me that he got to Texas safely, and then a week later to tell me that he’s mad at me too.”
“What? Why?” Eddie asks.
“Because I knew about Kim, I guess. And I didn’t do anything to stop it.”
“What did he expect you to do?”
“I don’t know, Eddie.” The truth is Buck is angry at himself as well. Maybe if he’d been harder on Eddie about it at the time, or maybe if he’d asked more questions about why Eddie was making the choices he was making, it wouldn’t have played out the way it did. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But instead all he’d done was tell Eddie he was worried about him, and the amount of worry he’d felt then is dwarfed by what he feels now. At this point he’s starting to think that Eddie isn’t going to make it out of this alive if something doesn’t change for the better soon.
He doesn’t say any of that though, or much of anything else, really. He just lets them lapse back into silence as the episodes play on until eventually Eddie falls asleep. Buck nudges him up because he knows Eddie will want to get changed rather than waking up in the middle of the night in his trousers.
Buck steals a look at Eddie while they both brush their teeth in the mirror. He looks better, Buck decides, if only marginally. Mostly Eddie just looks tired. He catches Buck watching him and tries to set his facial features, but it’s hard to do that with a toothbrush in your mouth. Buck looks away. Even the small conversation they’d had about Chris was more than Eddie had said about him in weeks, and Buck knows better than to push too hard. He grabs Eddie a blanket and pillow so he can get set up on the couch, and heads to his bedroom.
Before he falls asleep he sends a text to Tommy asking for shift updates. It’s been difficult with the two of them working alternating schedules, and their relationship is progressing slower than Buck is used to. But also everything has been so new and different, and he still doesn’t feel like he’s quite hit his stride with Tommy, so maybe the slower pace is a good thing.
If Eddie was in a better place Buck would talk to him about it, although he’s not sure how that would go. He’d talked to Hen some, but she’d been reluctant to give her opinion. When Buck had pushed, and Hen had eventually told him why she was so hesitant to give him her perspective, Buck and Tommy had had their one and only argument. Buck wasn’t privy to the specifics of the round of apologies Tommy made shortly after, but the next time the 118 went to the bar together Chimney had laid a too-heavy hand on Buck’s shoulder and slurred, “Yer prob’ly the besh thing t’ever happen t’Kinard. An’ don’ you f’get it.”
And that’s good, right? Buck likes being good for people. He’s hoping that he’s doing right by Eddie too, although he’s not sure if he is. What Eddie really needs is to go see Frank again, but how to bring it up in a way that Eddie won’t shut down? Maybe the right angle is to focus on getting better for Chris. If Bobby was Captain he’d probably insist on at least a psych eval, and there’s no way Eddie would pass it. But there’s no telling what Gerrard would do with the knowledge of Eddie’s personal life, so that’s a dead end. Maybe the strategy is to focus on Bobby instead, help him speed up the process of getting his job back so he can get Eddie what he needs. Another idea might be to ask Bobby for advice now anyways. Eddie’s let him in before, and he might do it again now.
Buck’s phone pings with a text from Tommy. Just got back from an absolute beast of a call. I’m so wiped. Talk tomorrow?
Of course! Sleep well : ) Buck texts back. He should probably get some rest as well.
Eddie
The first five seconds after he wakes up are Eddie’s favorite part of the day, and he hates himself for it. They’re a precious sliver of time where the remnants of sleep shield him from the reality of his life. But then everything comes crashing back down and he remembers it all- how he fucked up everything good about his life because he couldn't let go of something- someone that's been long gone. It's ironic, really. He’d told Shan- Kim that everything in his life was broken beyond the point of fixing, but that hadn't really been true until a few seconds later when Marisol and Chris had walked through the front door. The fact that he’d thought his life was fucked before that is almost laughable. He's never going to forget the look on Chris’s face.
Marisol’s too- he’d been so careless with her, even as she’d represented everything he wanted. He could have had a family again. He could have been normal. But he's a selfish piece of shit, so of course he had to destroy that possibility. She hadn't even said anything, just looked at him witheringly with tears in her eyes for a few seconds before she’d turned and headed back out the front door, leaving him to deal with Christopher. Kim, on the other hand, had said more than enough for the both of them. She’d screamed at him that he was fucking crazy, a psychopath, that he needed serious help if he thought that any of this shit was anything close to normal. And all of that was before she’d really built her momentum up. Eddie would have been concerned about how hearing that sort of language would affect Chris if his son hadn’t already barred himself in his room by the third or fourth sentence.
So when Eddie wakes up on Buck’s shitty couch he can't help but be glad that his back is already starting to ache, because it means that for once he doesn't get a moment of peace that he doesn't deserve. He groans despite himself as he sits up, which gets the attention of Buck sitting at the kitchen table, already nursing a cup of coffee.
“How'd you sleep?” Buck asks.
“Fine,” Eddie lies, and sees Buck’s eyebrows crinkle with worry. Eddie curses himself. He's given Buck shit about that couch every chance he’s gotten since the day Buck brought it into the loft. Obviously he didn’t sleep fine, but that’s not the problem. The problem is him pretending that he did, because if Buck knows he’s pretending about that he’ll start to wonder what else Eddie is pretending is fine. Which should concern Eddie, because if Buck is worried about him then he’ll pry, and Eddie can’t have that.
But the thing is, it doesn’t. It doesn’t concern Eddie that Buck might be worried about him because he can’t bring himself to care. He knows that’s probably not a good sign, but frankly he can’t bring himself to give a shit about that either. Not when he had the audacity to forget that Chris was in Texas for a few moments last night. He should never have agreed when Buck had invited him over last night, because of course he got distracted. He should have stuck to his original plan to get wasted, not to forget but so that he’d have woken up with the horrible hangover he should be suffering through right now. The only thing Eddie deserves is pain, but he can’t give it to himself in a way that’s going to affect his ability on the job, so he’s been settling for making himself so nauseous he vomits through every one of his days off.
And recently, even that hasn’t felt like enough of a punishment, so he’s added something else. Recently… It's stupid, really. If he wasn’t such a coward he’d pick a different way. But recently he’s been falling asleep on his back on purpose. He’ll drink himself to the brink of a blackout and then fall asleep on his back, knowing that if he vomits in his sleep he’ll aspirate. He is always glad when he wakes up. But that doesn’t stop him from doing it again at the end of his next shift.
So last night had been a mistake, because for a moment he’d felt good. But also, last night Buck had said that he thought Chris was going to come back. And Buck is a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. He would never lie to Eddie, not about anything. So if he tells him he thinks Chris is going to come back then he really believes that. Which means that what Eddie has been doing is really fucked, actually. Because if he keeps it up it might mean that Chris can’t return home even if he wants to, because Eddie will have taken that from him too. And he can’t do that to Chris. But he doesn’t know if he can stop, either, and least not on his own. Maybe he does need help to fix this, after all.
“Coffee?” Buck asks. Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at Buck, not saying anything. Based on the look on Buck’s face, too long.
“Yeah,” he manages. “Thanks.” Buck pours him some from the pot as he takes a seat.
“How’s Tommy?” Eddie manages, not at all caring about the answer.
“Good,” Buck says. “I talked to him for a bit last night. He had a busy shift, so he was pretty wiped, but it sounded like everything ended up alright. He says hi.”
“Well you’ll have to thank him for letting me steal you for the night.” That's not the right wording, and it sets off a series of competing alarms in Eddie’s head. What the fuck does that even mean, Diaz and You're my best friend, I’m allowed to spend time with you and I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anyone.
“He doesn’t mind,” Buck assures him, not appearing to notice. “He’s busy today, too. He agreed to go with Hen to clear out an old storage container that her mom had forgotten she was renting.”
“That's good of him,” Eddie offers. He and Buck don't really talk much about Tommy. Eddie had gotten a few more invites to events post-Buck and Tommy getting together, but when he’d turned down a few in a row Tommy had stopped offering. Eddie doesn’t know why he turned the invitations down- he’d been thrilled to spend time with Tommy when they were just getting to know each other, but then… Well, he’s not sure, exactly. But it turned out to be a good thing after all because the last thing Eddie should have are people in his corner. He still has Buck, but he doesn’t think he can really do anything about that other than try to convince him that everything’s fine. Although, now that Buck’s dating Tommy, maybe that can change. Tommy should be his priority, not Eddie.
“Mmmh,” Buck hums noncommittally, breaking Eddie’s train of thought and snapping his attention across the table. Buck’s avoiding Eddie’s gaze, like he knows he’s said too much even though he technically hasn’t said anything at all. Eddie casts his mind back to the conversation he’s been having on autopilot. He doesn’t mind… favor for Hen… that’s good of him.
“Unless it’s not?” Edie asks.
“I mean, it is,” Buck says. “But it’s also more of an apology than anything else.”
“Apology for what?” Eddie asks. He hates the way Buck’s admission that Tommy, Tommy the helicopter pilot, Tommy with the cleft, isn’t entirely perfect after all, makes him feel. Eddie has never liked any of Buck’s partners, but there’s something about Tommy in particular that really puts him on edge in a way that’s made him worry that he's latently homophobic. Add that to the list of his shitty qualities.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Buck says.
Eddie nods. It’s none of his business, obviously. He shouldn’t even want to know what happened. No matter what it is, it’s going to pale in comparison for the hell Eddie has put everyone he loves through. He disrespected Shannon’s memory. He drove Chris hundreds of miles away to live with his parents. He put Buck through all of it, and now he can’t see Chris in person any more. And he wouldn’t say he’s as close to Bobby as Buck is, they’re not that close, but maybe if he hadn’t been so distracted then-
“When Tommy used to work for the 118, it was before he was out,” Buck says. Shit. He’s going to tell Eddie anyway. He probably mistook Eddie’s silence for quietly holding space instead of the self-absorbed train of thought it had actually been. “And to fit in with the crew… Well, he did some pretty shitty things. Went along with Gerrard a lot. It made Hen and Chim’s lives harder.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “How do you mean?” he asks.
Buck winces. “He’d undermine them a lot,” he admits. “Question all the decisions, make comments about them being diversity hires. He went after Hen a lot after it was clear she was probably gay- lots of comments on taco night.” Eddie doesn’t know what that means, exactly, but based on Buck’s expression it’s pretty bad, especially if Tommy is still having to apologize for it after all this time. Hen’s not really one to hold a grudge. Eddie hopes a tower of boxes falls on Tommy when they open the storage unit.
“They didn't want to tell me about it at first,” Buck continues. “But I couldn't figure out why they weren't close with him even though they'd worked together for so long, and I kept asking. And Chim can't keep a secret so…” he shrugs.
“And then what?” Eddie asks.
“I argued with him about it,” Buck says. “I don't think he realized how much it had bothered them? But once he saw that it bothered me, he apologized to them.”
“He hadn’t apologized before?” Eddie demands. That piece of shit.
“Like I said, he didn't realize how much it affected them,” Buck says. “But ever since he realized he's been trying to-”
“You mean ever since you said something,” Eddie cuts him off. How does Buck not see it?
Now Buck’s eyes are narrowing. “I mean, I guess,” he says. “Ever since then he’s been working really hard to make it up to them. He apologized, and he’s offering to help out on things when he can. I don’t think any of them will be friends, but-”
“So it wasn’t enough for Hen, a black woman, or Chim, who’s Asian, to say something to him. But he listened when it was you.”
Buck flinches. “He didn't realize wha- Look, it's not like they- I mean, he's sorry, okay?”
“Good,” says Eddie empathetically. “He should be. But that doesn't explain why you're still with him.” Fuck. He didn't mean to say that, but it's not like he can take it back, so he doubles down.
“How can you be with him after that? Who gives a shit if he apologized. You’re dating a racist, Buck.”
Buck shrugs uncomfortably. “He apologized to both Hen and Chim. They both accepted his apology. What else do you want me to say, Eddie?”
“That you broke up with him,” Eddie snaps.
“Eddie, it was years ago. No one’s perfect. He made a mistake.”
“Yeah, well, some mistakes aren't forgivable,” Eddie snaps. “Maybe it’s time you learned that.” As soon as he says it he knows he's lost the argument, so he turns and grabs his keys, and storms out, but not before Buck gets in a barb of his own.
“Real rich coming from you, Eddie,” he calls out as Eddie slams the door behind him.
Eddie feels white-hot anger coursing through his veins as he strides down the steps and out the front door of Buck’s apartment building. He can’t believe Buck is still with that asshole. True, at first he’d been friends with Tommy, just like Buck had. But ever since the two of them started dating he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that there was something off about the guy. It was like in that instant Tommy had gone from a potential friend to a potential rival. And now he knows why- he’d been aware, somehow, that Tommy was a shitty person, was bad for Buck. He just hadn’t had the proof until now.
But Buck should know better than to be with a guy like that. Hell, he’s been barely holding it together on shifts now that Gerrard is in charge. Everyone can see how much every snide comment the new captain makes gets under his skin. Everyone including Gerrard, who’s been using it against him. Half of the times he’s yelling at Hen, Ravi, or Chimney he’s actually directing it at Buck, knowing that he’s listening and that the barbs are digging into him too. Eddie’s seen it in other so-called leaders before. The message is clear- I call the shots, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And every time you’re chomping at the bit to say something, don’t forget whose hand tightens the bridle. So what, Buck’s all torn up about Gerrard at work and then goes home to his boyfriend who was the guy’s lackey for years? Fuck that. Who cares if Tommy has apologized a thousand times, if he’s been to hell and back to get forgiveness from the people he hurt. Buck still shouldn’t be with him.
Maybe it makes sense after all. After all, Buck sure knows how to pick ‘em. First Abby, then Taylor, and now Tommy. One shitty person after another who uses him, and Buck lets all of them stick around for far too long. If Eddie had a dollar for every time he’s caught himself staring daggers into the back of one of Buck’s partners he’d have enough money to build a time machine and undo this whole mess. They’re all so selfish. They take and they take and they never think about what they’re doing to him.
Don’t forget you, the voice in his head taunts. If we’re making a list of people who use Buck, go ahead and add your name as well. Eddie knows it’s true. He’d been horrible to Marisol, and to Kim, too. Neither of them deserved what had happened. No, the only person who got what they deserved in this situation is him. But Buck doesn’t see it that way. Instead, Buck feels sorry for him, and keeps pulling Eddie out of the hole he’s trying to dig for himself to hide away from the world.
So Buck? Fuck him, for having such low standards, and for trying to help Eddie when he doesn’t deserve it. Fuck him for putting up with Tommy, and fuck him for putting up with Eddie too. And fuck Tommy, for being a racist piece of shit and for taking Buck away from him, because maybe Eddie doesn’t deserve to have Buck in his life but he sure as hell wants to. And if Eddie isn’t worthy of Buck then Tommy sure as hell isn’t either.
Spurred by this thought, Eddie strides onto the crosswalk and hears too late the sound of screeching tires.
Buck
Buck is still stewing an hour later when it’s time for his therapy session. It doesn’t help that an accident outside had the police asking all residents to stay in the building, cutting off Bucks path to the gym where he would have loved to throw a few punches.
“Hey Dr. Copeland,” he says as she pops onto the screen.
“Good morning Evan,” she says. “How are you today?”
“Not so good,” he admits. “I mean, the week was mostly good. But Eddie and I had a fight this morning and I’m still pretty angry about it.”
“Do you want to discuss it?”
Buck nods. “I invited him over last night. He’s been getting worse so I thought I’d try to distract him. And last night everything was fine. And I was worried, after everything we’ve been talking about with setting up boundaries, that I was going to cave and invite him to sleep in my bedroom but I didn’t. And I even texted Tommy to talk instead. I mean, he wasn’t free but that’s not really the point. The point is that last night went really well, and then this morning it was like a switch flipped and everything went to shit. And I don’t even really know why.”
“I asked him how he slept, and he said fine, but then he got this super spaced-out look and just kind of stood there for almost a minute until I asked him if he wanted some coffee. And then I thought we were fine again, but then- this is kind of an aside, but it’s relevant. Do you remember how I told you that Tommy used to work for the 118, years ago?”
Dr. Copeland nods. “If I recall, the two of you didn’t overlap.”
“Yeah, but two of my friends, Hen and Chim, they did. And Hen’s a black woman, and she’s a lesbian- oh yeah, I told you about her. She’s the one that I vent to a lot about stuff with Gerrard. And Chim’s Asian, but he’s straight. Oh yeah, obviously I’ve told you about him too, he’s married to Maddie. God I’m so stupid.”
“Evan,” Dr. Copeland cuts him off.
“Right, right. Sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry. Thank you. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. I’m not stupid, I just forgot something, which happens to everyone.”
Dr. Copeland nods, and offers Buck a smile as he continues. “So anyways. When the three of them were working at the 118 back then, Tommy wasn’t out yet, but he knew that he was gay. So to cover that, he was pretty awful to them. Well, not pretty awful. Actually, I don’t know, because no one will give me any fucking specifics. Sorry. No, not sorry. No one will fucking tell me fucking anything about what happened other than that Tommy was being a fucking piece of shit to people that I care about. And I’m mad about that, because I can’t do anything when I have almost no specifics to go off of. But I yelled at him about it and I made him apologize, and I think that they’re good, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Buck feels so drained. How is he this tired, so early in the session? He’s been working incredibly hard in therapy, and once or twice he thinks the way he feels at the end is pretty close to what Frank used to put Eddie through. Not that he’d tell Eddie that, not right now when- Buck’s phone buzzes, and he flips it over to turn on Do Not Disturb without looking at it. He should have done that before.
“What are you thinking about right now, Evan?” Dr. Copeland asks, breaking into his thoughts.
“That I’m an idiot for forgetting to turn my phone off,” he admits. He’s trying to be honest in therapy, even when it stings. He keeps telling the story, knowing they’ll come back to the stupid phone later. “But anyways… Where was I? Oh, yeah. So all of that had happened a long time ago, but I still feel really weird and angry about it, but I also don’t feel like it’s for me to be angry about, especially if Hen and Chim say that they’re good. Which they did. But I hadn’t told Eddie about it, but then this morning it kind of slipped out and he got really mad about it. But it was like he was mad at me more than he was mad at Tommy, like it was my fault because I hadn’t broken up with him about it. But it’s not like breaking up with Tommy would undo what happened, so I don’t see what the point even is. I mean, obviously it’s not great, and maybe I should have, but it’s not like I’m going to do better anyways. And also, it’s not like it’s any of his business. Except it is, because he’s Mexican, or, well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that word to describe himself, but, like, he’s Latino. So it is his thing to get mad about, in a way that it isn’t mine. But then that goes back to what I was saying before. It’s not for me to be mad about if Hen and Chim aren’t. So I don’t know what to do. But anyway he stormed out.”
“What emotions do you find in yourself right now?” Dr. Copeland asks, which Buck has learned is her way of saying That was a lot. He thinks for a second. “Embarrassment. Annoyance. Frustration. Anger, maybe?”
Dr. Copeland writes them down so that they can come back to each one. It makes Buck think of Eddie, who used to complain about the way Frank wrote things down during their sessions and wouldn’t show it to him. Dr. Copeland doesn’t do that. She’d explained it to him, early in their time working together. She writes things down so that she doesn’t have to focus on remembering them, and can just listen to him instead. She’d explained that it’s related to her ADHD, and Buck had been surprised at the feeling of lightness that had flooded through him at the sound of someone saying something like that so nonchalantly, with the familiarity of talking about a partner whose habits they’d learned to coexist with. (Buck thinks that Dr. Copeland thinks that he also has ADHD. But she hasn’t brought it up to him yet, and he’s not sure that he’s going to agree with her when she does. But that's not the point today anyhow.)
“Let’s start with embarrassment,” Dr. Copeland prompts.
“I’m embarrassed because Eddie’s right. It’s not my job to make excuses on Tommy’s behalf. And I think he’s right- I shouldn’t tolerate it. I should have broken up with him as soon as I heard about it. And Hen and Chimney probably feel like I’m a shit person because I didn’t. And I feel awful about that, especially when I’ve been complaining to Hen about everything Gerrard’s been doing when she’s had to deal with it for way longer, and I feel really bad about that. I guess I’d add ‘regretful’ to how I’m feeling with that.”
Dr. Copeland adds it to the list. “Annoyance?” she asks.
“I’m annoyed at Eddie, because he’s right that it’s not okay that Tommy’s a racist, but at the same time I get frustrated because he puts me on this pedestal where I can’t do anything wrong. It’s like he thinks that I’m this perfect person who never makes any mistakes. And I know a lot of that is because he feels like he’s the exact opposite of that, especially right now, but that’s not true either. He’s made a lot of mistakes, obviously, but he’s not a horrible person either. It’s like he thinks people are either perfect or awful, and he’s put me in one category and himself in the other and it’s exhausting. But then I feel bad- upset with myself, is there a singular word for that?- because I know it’s because of the things happening with him right now that he feels that way, and I don’t want to judge him for that.”
“Is that where the frustration enters the mix?” Dr. Copeland asks. Buck shakes his head.
“No, not really. I mean, maybe that’s also a point of frustration. But mostly I’m frustrated because it’s not like I have a better option.”
“How do you mean?” Dr. Copeland asks.
“I mean, Tommy is the best I’m going to get, so…” he trails off. “I don’t know what Eddie wants me to do, exactly. He probably can’t see it because he thinks I’m perfect, but that goes back to the annoyance.”
“What makes you say Tommy is the best you’re going to get?” Dr. Copeland asks.
Buck sighs. “Come on, we've been over this a thousand times. Eddie's straight, no use stewing over it. You're the one who told me I needed to move on.”
“And I still think that's the wisest course of action, but why do you think that Tommy is as good as it's going to get for you?”
“I don't have the best track record in relationships. I thought that maybe now that I know that guys are an option as well that it would make it easier, but to be honest it really hasn't. it's made it harder - I've never had women question if I was actually interested in them before I came out. “
“And that's changed?”
Buck nods. “Not that I'm looking, but I ran into an ex at the grocery store when I was with Tommy, so I told her I was bisexual. And she got really upset and said that I’d lied to her. I tried to tell her that I didn’t know at the time, and besides it’s not like liking men means I don’t like women. But she sure seemed to think so. And it’s not just her- it turns out a lot of people think that being bisexual is just a stepping stone to coming out as gay. Well, they think that for men. For women, they think they’re just saying it for attention. Which means they really think that everyone secretly just likes men, which is actually kind of misogynistic when you think about it.” He’s off topic again. This isn’t about other people, it’s about him.
“And it’s not like I’m going to do well with men, either. Tommy has had to be so patient with me, and he never says anything about it but I know that it annoys him, because if he was with someone else they could probably move much faster. And we’re doing better now, the sex has actually been really good. Which is another reason that I don’t want to break up with him, even though I know I probably should. But whenever we’re hanging out with his friends it’s like they’re on a different wavelength than me. I don’t really fit in, and it’s pretty clear why. They know themselves, and they have for a while.”
“What was Tommy’s response to what your ex said in the grocery store?” Dr. Copeland asks.
“His response?” Buck asks. He thinks back to that morning and feels the heat of embarrassment all over again. God, all he’d wanted to do was to get out of that stupid store and away from her. “I don’t know if he said anything about it. I think we just paid and left.”
Dr. Copeland nods, and writes something down. “And how did you interpret that?” she asks.
“I don’t know that I interpreted it any kind of way. It’s just what happened. She yelled at me, I felt awful, we left.”
“You felt awful,” Dr. Copeland echoes back. Buck feels himself wringing out his hands unconsciously.
“Can we talk about something else?” he asks. “I just- the point is, I’m not going to do better than Tommy. So it’s not fair for Eddie to be mad at me for dating him.”
“We can drop it if I can send you some reading as homework before our next session,” she counters.
“On what, exactly?” Buck isn’t sure if therapists are supposed to negotiate with their clients, but it works for the two of them. It gives him the space to process things so he’s ready for how he wants to talk about them during the next session.
“Biphobia,” she says, holding his gaze through the computer screen.
Buck feels himself getting warm. “Deal,” he says.
Dr. Copeland writes down a reminder to herself to send something over, which gives Buck a few seconds to let the word settle in his chest. He’s heard of it, obviously. But he hadn’t considered that it was something he was experiencing. “Okay, the next emotion you’d mentioned was anger,” she prompts him once she’s ready.
Buck shrugs. “I think that was just the culmination of the other feelings. I don’t have anything else to say.”
“Anything to add to ‘regretful’?”
Buck thinks for a moment. “Not about this. Well, kind of. I think- It’s not an excuse for him, but I think that Eddie probably got so mad because he’s just so mad in general these days. I think he’s getting worse. And I regret that I haven’t been a better friend to him, and that I didn’t stop him in the first place. I keep thinking that if I’d been harder on him when I first found out about Kim, then none of this would have happened, and then he’d be okay.”
“You feel responsible for how things have played out with Eddie,” Dr. Copeland echoes back. Buck isn’t sure how she manages to keep her tone and expression as neutral as she does.
“Okay, fine. I know that’s not fair to me. But, yes, that’s how I feel. I feel like I haven’t been there for him, and I feel really, really scared for him. Actually, terrified. I feel terrified. I’m starting to worry- look, I don’t know anything for certain. But he’s really not doing well at all, and I don’t think he’s going to see a therapist unless I kidnap him in the middle of the night and leave him tied up in your office or something. But even that wouldn’t work because he’d probably just sulk and stare at you with death eyes until you let him go.”
Dr. Copeland smiles briefly before resetting herself. “You started a sentence in there that I’d be interested in hearing the end to. What is it specifically that you’re starting to worry about?”
Buck swallows hard. Naming it would just make it more real, but he feels like he has to. “I’m starting to worry that he’s going to give up. Last night he didn’t believe me when I told him that I thought Chris was going to come back, and Chris is the person he’s pushed himself to live for when he’s almost died so many times in the past. And if he doesn’t think he can have Chris any more, he might start to get reckless at work.”
“Has he been reckless at work?” Dr. Copeland asks.
“I mean, not yet. But I’m worried he’ll start to be.”
“And what will you do if he does?”
“I guess I’d have to tell Gerrard then, even though it would probably make things even worse. Last night I was thinking that maybe I’d call Bobby and tell him. I don’t know if he can do anything about it, but they’re both Catholic so maybe he can say something I can’t about how it’s a sin or something.”
“Do you think he’s currently at risk of trying to kill himself?”
Buck hates that question. He hates that he’s been talking around it, too. Eddie deserves better than that, so he forces himself to consider it for a few seconds. “I don’t- I mean, he would never - He means so much to me. He has to know that, right?” He feels his eyes start to sting traitorously. And if that’s not an answer to the question, what is?
Dr. Copeland nods sympathetically. “It’s hard to talk about," she says. “I’m going to give you a few resources to have in your back pocket.” They spend the rest of the session talking about it- things he can do, who he can call. Buck makes a plan to tell Bobby that he’s worried, and to ask him to have the conversation with Eddie instead. In different circumstances (which is a polite way of saying if they weren’t fighting and if Buck wasn’t in love with Eddie ) he’d do it himself. But there aren’t different circumstances.
By the time the fifty minutes are up he’s more drained than he has been in a long time. Eddie would always say he felt like he’d been hit by a truck, but after a rough session Buck feels like he’s been emptied out. Like Dr. Copeland is secretly a therapy vampire who feeds on human emotion. That doesn’t make any sense, he corrects himself. A therapy vampire wouldn’t work because they would be getting rid of their food source whenever they helped people get better. But a 9-1-1 vampire would maybe work? No, they help people calm down too. Maybe a soap opera writer? But that’s not real drama so maybe it wouldn’t work.
His phone buzzes, pulling him out of his thoughts. Hadn't he put it on Do Not Disturb? He walks over to it as it keeps buzzing. Shit, is he late for something? He’d set alarms to come through no matter what, same with if someone called him more than three times- His blood runs cold as he sees the number on the screen. He knows this number from follow-ups at the station. It’s the emergency room. The emergency room is calling him on his day off. The emergency room is calling him at least three times in a row on his day off. The emergency room is calling him at least three times in a row on his day off, and right after Eddie stormed out there had been an accident in front of his building, a really bad one, an accident so bad no one was allowed to leave the building.
He picks it up, heart in his throat. “Hello?”
“I'm looking to reach Mr. Evan Buckley?” the woman on the other end of the line says.
“Yeah, that's me,” Buck croaks.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news. You're listed as the emergency contact for Edmundo Diaz-”
Buck’s knees give out from under him.