I joined the fandom for Tevan but stayed for all the rare pairs. Check out my full fic list: page 1 and page 2. or peruse my wips, recents, and self-recs below. My stuff is all over the place so check the tags before you proceed.
my self-recs (multichapter):
My Best Friend and a Pilot - Buck/Eddie/Tommy
My Blessings are Things you Call Sins - Eddie/Father Brian
Matters of the Heart - Eddie/Dr. Salazar
Nothing Could Go Wrong Anytime I'm With You - Sal/Tommy
Brooke's Coffee - Buck/Tommy coffee shop AU
Daniel's Cookie Jar - Buck/Tommy bakery AU
Cleats and Crescendos - Sal/Eddie high school teacher AU
Guidance & Gravity - Buck/Tommy high school teacher AU
Nonno Tom's - Buck/Tommy restaurant AU
my self-recs (one-shot):
Pepa & Evancito - Buck and Pepa, Buck/Tommy
Tomorrow - Buck/Tommy
Friendly Fire - Buck/Tommy, Eddie [collab with @sunnywithachanceofbi]
There Must Be Something in the Water - Buck/Tommy
Peanut Butter - Buck/Tommy
A Bathroom with Two Sinks - Josh/Eddie [warning: MCD]
No More Joking About It - Sal/Eddie
Home Is Wherever I'm With You - Rick Romero/Lou Ransome
wip or recently completed:
You Are The Life I Needed All Along - Sal/Shannon to Sal/Eddie [WIP]
Summary: Maddie and Chim come back to an empty house after a night out
Read on AO3, excerpt below
Maddie slipped off her heels at the door and walked quietly through the front hallway out of habit.
“No need to tip toe, babe, we’re living it up kid-free tonight,” Chim said, closing the front door behind them.
He bent down and picked up Maddie’s shoes for her, letting the shiny black pumps dangle from his fingertips.
He put his other hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her in a way that made her feel safe and cared for, never controlling.
Chim leaned in and kissed Maddie’s shoulder, lips brushing skin left bare by the thin straps of her little black dress. “And I thought, since we have the house to ourselves…” She felt his mouth curve into a grin against her as his hand traveled down to her ass. He grabbed a handful and squeezed.
“Oh, so the flowers and nice dinner and wine were just a ploy to get under my skirt?” she teased playfully, turning to go down the hall to their bedroom.
“A little bit,” Chim grinned, hand still resting on her ass. “But also because I love my beautiful wife and I want to show her a nice time.”
Maddie laughed softly, then took her shoes from Chim’s hand and stashed them in the bedroom closet. “Well, I do feel thoroughly wined and dined,” she said.
She walked back toward her husband, enjoying the way his gaze roamed hotly over her body. She stopped in front of him and turned around, then brushed her hair over the front of one shoulder. “Unzip me?”
“Yes ma’am,” Chim said. He moved in closer, his body heat radiating through the short distance between them. His lips brushed the side of her neck as he unfastened the hook, then slid the delicate zipper down her back.
Chim kissed her neck a few times, traveling to her shoulder, sliding down the strap of her dress.
“What else can I do for you?” Chim asked, grazing his teeth over her skin.
Maddie turned around to face him, holding her dress against her chest to keep it from slipping down. “I want you to go into the bathroom, take off all of your clothes, then come back out in 5 minutes.”
Desire flared in Chim’s eyes and he nodded. “5 minutes,” he confirmed. He kissed her, lips parted, a teasing flick of his tongue, before he did as she asked and shut himself into the en suite bathroom.
this is from an idea courtesy of @judymarch15 about eddie showing up when bobby was going through it, right time and place, and offering support.
so this is something similar for buck.
title from death cab's new album/song.
[wc: 3750, below or on ao3]
The pitch of Theo’s scream is exactly the right decibel level to threaten a shift of Buck’s headache into a full-fledged migraine. It would be fine if it were the first time he’d heard it today – or, damn, even the fifth or sixth.
But no.
Theo’s been on a mission since he woke up this morning to take Buck out at every opportunity. Every corner in the house, he lies in wait, a friend at daycare teaching him the word “prank” and its ever-expanding list of what qualifies.
Buck would be lying if he said that Beau kid wasn’t at the top of his shit list today.
Now, though, Theo’s moved on.
Jumping out and scaring Buck from every nook and cranny has moved into something he’s dubbed “King Dinosaur.” Buck can’t quite be sure, but he thinks some level of eating limbs is involved if Theo’s frustration at him walking in the kitchen on both legs after he chomped one off was any indication.
There are also, seemingly, Darth Vaders in this world – and yes, more than one because Buck heard mention of at least three different colors of his armor – and they’re shouting about hiding out in the bathtub for safety.
It’s not even noon and Buck’s already nursing the beginnings of a cold, Theo woke up in tears after a nightmare that kept him awake from 4:00 a.m. onward, and at least six different breakfast options didn’t take.
Not to mention the fact that Eddie begged Buck to cover for a shift so he could go to Christopher’s art show tonight, and Maddie’s working too, which only leaves Chim for babysitting duty.
For what it’s worth, Theo’s been adapting well to most changes, especially for his age and for having gone through something so awful in losing his parents and seeing it happen. He’s a great kid, he’s kind and fun and he’s grateful for Buck.
Most of the time.
There are other days, though, like today. Where nothing quite fits right and the weather of Theo’s mood dips into something angry and charged with the grief he’s still too young to quite know how to process.
Buck doesn’t blame him, not in the slightest, for being upset about most things. Hell, Buck, himself, has blown up much more over much less. But the shadow that looms is one Buck fights like hell to resist thinking too much about.
What if he’s not good enough? What if he fails? Again. What if Theo resents him and hates the person he becomes, all while under Buck’s watch?
It’s enough to paralyze him at its worst, the guilt and grief of his own lingering on the edge of the time they spend together.
Today, though, he pulls up every last bit of energy he has, inhales and exhales more than once to dust out the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and does what he knows best.
He adapts.
“Theo, buddy,” he says, voice low and calm. Measured, intentional. “I just got some new coloring books, I think one or two of these Darth Vaders could use a card. Whaddya think?”
Theo considers, still bouncing on the edge of the couch cushion, face scrunched up as he takes in what Buck said. The frustration that’s been knotting itself in Buck’s chest is rattled loose at the sight, reminding himself just how young Theo really is.
“Can I use markers?” Theo asks, hopeful.
He’d set up a room for Theo at the front of the house, shelves stacked with books he can reach easily, buckets filled with stuffed toys and puzzles, cars and legos, all at Theo’s height.
There’s a small table tucked in the corner, one with two chairs of the same size and a stool that Theo calls the Buck Spot, and Buck always keeps construction paper and crayons on the table.
The markers, though, they’re special. Something Theo’s in awe over but knows he has to be extra careful with – Buck learned that one the hard way.
If it’ll stop the screaming, though, Buck doesn’t even hesitate.
“Deal,” he puts out his hand and Theo shakes it with a serious tilt to his brow while his lips slip into a grin.
Theo gets to work, starting with the boldest colors and tilting over the table while his tongue just out the corner of his mouth. He’s all focus, at least for now, so Buck seizes the opportunity and sneaks into the kitchen to start dinner and clean up a little bit.
While he’s there, he texts Eddie just to talk to someone, tells him about the Darth Vaders and adds a picture of Theo. His mouth is wide open, mid-scream as he hops from cushion to cushion where they’re scattered across the living room floor.
It helps, texting or calling someone from the 118 or his sister. Usually, it’s enough to stop a craving before it gets too unwieldy, reminds him of the people who helped him when he was at his lowest, time and time again. Reminds him of the people who still have his back and are always just a phone call away.
Eddie doesn’t respond right away, though, not that Buck expected him to. He’s likely working on the truck outside, claimed it had been sputtering the other day after work, and he hadn’t had the chance to look at it yet.
He usually leaves his phone inside like an old man, anyways. Always worried about the 5G getting into his car and a robot taking over or some other batshit theory on the state of technology these days.
Buck realizes he’s staring at the kitchen sink where the water flows from the faucet, thumb pressed between his teeth while he anxiously bites at his nail, thoughts circling over and over about how nice it would be to leave behind the ever-present ache in his spine and the throb just behind his knee.
How much better it would be to pass the time under the haze of distant thought, detached from his body while muscle memory works to keep him moving.
His eyes close at the recollection of sinking, sheer curtain covering each old injury, every painful reminder of being trapped in that room, all the times he’s ended up a chore on someone else’s to-do list. A burden.
When he blinks his eyes open, the quiet that’s settled in the house is so peaceful, it almost feels serene. Buck wonders how long it’s been since he’s sat in something as blissful as this.
And then he remembers the little hands that are latched onto markers in the other room and the silence shifts to worrying. He slams the faucet off and darts out of the kitchen, but it’s too late.
The walls are covered – again – with bright red lines and green and purple smiley faces. Messy scribbles sit under long sticks which Buck thinks are a rendering of a field with some trees but he can’t be sure.
Anger simmers in his chest but he takes a breath – or four – and unclenches his fists that are tucked into his pockets, crouching to get on Theo’s level.
“Theo,” he says firmly, and he doesn’t turn around right away. “Theo, put the markers down. You know the rules.”
Theo turns and looks at Buck, eyes ignited with the tiniest bit of unhinged power, and instead of putting the markers down, he turns back to the wall and adds more to his already growing masterpiece.
Buck walks over, careful not to step too heavily, reminding himself over and over of everything the kid has been through and every reason he has to hate Buck and hate being in this house without his parents.
He takes the markers easily, Theo letting them go like they’re burning his hands as soon as Buck connects with his skin. It hurts a little, but the pain doesn’t linger for long, especially because Theo juts out a leg and kicks Buck in the shin when he’s within spitting distance.
The power is still only that of a four-year-old so it really shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but his heel collides directly with Buck’s shin and the throbbing that’s been pulsing behind his knee grows stronger, a flash splintering the pain up his whole leg.
Buck can’t help it, he drops the markers and they scatter, the noise startling Theo and he reacts with his arm this time, hand connecting with Buck’s eye.
Before Buck even knows what’s happened, Theo’s running down the hall to his room and trying to slam the door as much as he can with the kid-proof stopper clamped on the top ledge.
Tears prickle at the corner of Buck’s eyes, from the pain, the frustration, or the guilt he can’t be sure, but he swallows down his own emotions and takes another shuddering breath.
Did he keep those few pills he had stashed away in that old box of condoms under the bathroom sink? If he dropped Theo off and bailed on work how pissed would the B-shift captain be?
The thoughts slam into him unbidden, growing in strength to the point Buck pulls out his phone and holds it in a shaky grip. When the screen lights up, there aren’t any notifications. Still nothing from Eddie.
He tries Hen this time, sends her something about a documentary he thinks Denny would like, one he watched with Theo the other day.
He waits. Watches a minute tick by. Two. Five. Seven.
Still nothing.
Theo’s room is quiet, save for the grunts of frustration and still occasional pacing he hears from tiny footsteps on the other side of the door.
Buck knocks and peeks his head in, checks to make sure Theo is okay, that there’s nothing dangerous lurking that he’s tossed from a shelf or stolen from the kitchen.
Theo’s sat on the bed, arms crossed and face tipped into a frown. He looks so small in the middle of his pillows, barely enough time to grow, let alone endure as much suffering as he has.
“You okay?” Buck asks softly, making sure to respect the space Theo might need, but still here if he wants him to be. “Want me to come in and sit with you?”
Theo shakes his head angrily, eyes red-rimmed, chest heaving with frustrated breaths.
It hurts to see him like this, the only thing Buck can offer a hug or a listening ear. He wishes he could reach out and take the pain away directly, protect him from everything he’s been through already and everything that’s still likely to come.
Buck knows he deserves it a hell of a lot more than Theo does.
“Okay,” Buck says. “I can sit here in the hallway, a-and you can come out when you’re ready.”
Theo stays in his spot but doesn’t resist, doesn’t tell Buck no, doesn’t yell at him to leave.
That’s progress, at least on today’s terms.
It takes some time, but eventually Theo comes out, tears falling down his cheeks and he shoves them away like he’s mad at them for existing. Buck doesn’t ask for anything, honestly doesn’t care all that much about the marker on the wall, knows Eddie can help him cover it in a couple of hours, tops.
Instead, he opens his arms and Theo stumbles into them, pressing his snotty face to Buck’s neck, and Buck lets him work through whatever his big feelings are, doing his best to keep his own big feelings packed away.
It doesn’t save the rest of the day, though, and eventually Theo wants to shout again and gets mad he can’t use the markers for the green Vader’s card, and he refuses any and all options for lunch and a snack.
It’s not until they’re on the way to Chim’s that Theo finally conks out in his car seat and Buck stews – just a little – in the annoyance that Chim will get to reap the benefits of another two or three quiet hours before Theo colors all over his walls.
Work goes like it usually does, starting off bad and getting worse, calls stacking on top of each other like the city’s got a personal vendetta against him today.
There are endless bitchy civilians all geared up in their nastiest attitudes, and the night brings out the worst of the worst.
Around hour ten, they get a call to a car accident, one that ends in death for a couple barely into their thirties.
At hour twelve, Buck has to step away from a scene to walk himself back from a panic attack, the victim someone with a gunshot through the shoulder, his buddy sat next to him with blood sprayed across his face springing loose memories Buck thought he’d moved past.
Grief has a way of doing that. Hurtling things at you until you’re so battered and raw, all you can do is brace yourself for the pain.
Every half hour, Buck checks his phone, shoots off another message to Eddie, another to Hen before asking Maddie if something is in the water today.
Hen gives a thumb’s up to the documentary rec but doesn’t reply to anything else. Eddie’s still M.I.A., and Buck wonders if his phone is waterlogged or dead, after all. Maddie’s likely dealing with more than Buck is so he doubts she’s even had a chance to glance at her phone.
It feels like he’s doing it again, pushing where he’s not wanted, asking for help he doesn’t deserve.
Buck’s thoughts drift back to the floating feeling of numbness that came along with the narcotics. A feeling he’d do near-anything to capture if it didn’t send him spiraling down a path he knows he’d be hard pressed to claw his way back from again.
He knows, logically, it’s ridiculous. His family have shown over and over that they care, that he’s wanted. Needed. Loved in all ways.
The other part of his brain doesn’t seem to get the message, though, and he’s exhausted by the time his shift ends. Bone-deep tired with the heavy weight of work paired alongside the heightened worry he carried all shift.
When Chim texts that Buck can just pick Theo up after he catches some sleep, tells him they’re fine and that Theo’s out cold anyways, the feeling of relief that surges through Buck leaves guilt rapidly in its wake.
With the guilt always comes shame, and with shame the thoughts he’s been pushing away pounce when they finally get the chance.
It’s why he’s sitting outside of a liquor store at 6:57 a.m. on a Tuesday and the pills he thought he’d had tucked into his visor were, thankfully, still there when he reached for them this morning.
Not usually one to over-indulge in liquor, Buck doesn’t know, at first, why he’s really sitting there, waiting for it to open in three minutes. Purposefully resisting thoughts telling him it’s a bad idea, that he should just go and take a hot shower, tuck himself in bed and get some painfully needed rest.
He doesn’t even realize he’d gone inside until he’s sitting in his car again, tossing the receipt out the window and shoving the bottle into the deepest part of his duffel bag in the passenger seat.
Sitting in the kitchen with the lights off, Buck finds his thumb between his teeth again, staring at the bottle and the little white pills scattered beside it.
His phone is off, still in his bag, the one he’d tossed into his bedroom knowing he’d left it in there. He didn’t want it to be in front of him when he knows the regret that’s sure to crash through him will hit any minute now.
The knock at the door startles him so much he jumps, an echo of the weeks after the kidnapping, nerves skittering at the drop of a pin.
Buck waits.
Chimney said he’d keep Theo for the night, but maybe he got sick, maybe he’s upset…the knock cuts sharp again and Buck moves into action, shoving the pills in his pocket and tucking the bottle under the sink before heading to the front door.
When he swings it open, Eddie is there, fist raised, third knock interrupted.
“E-Eddie,” Buck says, confused, wondering how much time he’d really lost in the last day and a half. He didn’t think he told Eddie to come by, but the glances at his phone could’ve shifted into messages without him paying close attention. Maybe he–
“Hey, man,” Eddie interrupts his thoughts, glancing into the house with a frown. He points at the darkness behind Buck and shifts into a whisper. “Oh, sorry. Is Theo sleeping?”
Buck shakes his head with a chuckle, making his best impression of someone that’s fine. He’s not sure how much it lands, but when Eddie shoves his way in, he guesses it didn’t.
“Oh,” Eddie hisses, putting his hands up and spinning back to Buck. “Your shift. You probably just got home, sorry, I wasn’t think–”
“It’s fine,” Buck says easily, gesturing to the couch. “Do you, uh, need something? O-Or wanna hang out?”
“No, no, I don’t need anything,” Eddie says easily, sinking into the couch before reaching for something in his jacket. He sets it on the table and Buck reminds himself to breathe. The weight of the pills is heavy in his front pocket and he swears he can smell the tequila from the living room even though it’s sealed.
Buck sits across the couch from Eddie, loosens the grip his fist has on his jeans, feels the blood flow back into his fingertips.
“H-How was Chris’ show?” Buck says with genuine interest, hoping Eddie will distract him from the growing cloud of craving the lingers over the room, heavy and persistent.
“It was great,” Eddie smiles. “I realized, though, you texted and I got distracted. Totally forgot to respond and then Chim sent a picture of Theo covered in mud. Sounds like he’s been a little bit of a disaster artist, but at least he’s having fun.”
Buck smiles, swallowing down the guilt that’s threatening to overwhelm him. He’s been so distracted by his own bullshit he didn’t even ask Chim for pictures or updates.
Didn’t even call Theo to say goodnight.
Eddie reaches out and taps Buck’s knee, and Buck looks up to find Eddie’s patient, steady gaze. “You okay?”
Buck nods instinctively, “Y-Yeah, sorry, I’m, uh, I think I’m just tired. Chim’s keeping Theo for the night, so I’ll be able to get some sleep.”
“That’s good,” Eddie says, nodding. “I can leave you to it, but I just wanted to bring you this. Chris said he would himself, but he knows he won’t see you for a couple weeks. Said he didn’t want to wait for you to see it.”
The small canvas that was in Eddie’s pocket is on the table and when Eddie reaches for it and hands it to Buck, a quiet grin finds his lips. When Buck looks down, the tears that have been threatening all day tip over, and he sheds a couple at the image.
It’s a collage, one stitched of fire trucks and books and outer space. One that includes names of recipes they’ve cooked together, movies they’ve watched over and over again. All the images join to form a larger picture.
A Buck. Proud antlers ahead, steely gaze fixed on the horizon off page.
“Chris has been working on this since that day you stopped,” Eddie says gently. “He told me their year-long assignment was to make art that inspires them.”
“I-It’s…he really made this?” Buck asks, not trying to hide the tears that are falling quietly now, brushing them away with the same hand that held the very thing that would tip the scales back toward the devil, leaving him lost and alone.
Again.
Instead, Eddie showed up with something Chris made for him. That makes Chris feel inspired. The dim haze of distance he was trying so hard to capture before comes crashing down around him and he sees clearly again.
Just like that.
Eddie leans in, squeezes Buck’s shoulder and finds his eyes. “You mean a lot, Buck.”
Buck nods, heart lodged in his throat.
“To him, and to me. To all of us.”
“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck says, swiping away the last of the tears and standing, hoping the movement will keep the momentum of the moment long enough to settle into sleep without nightmares.
Eddie stands, reaches for Buck and gives him a tight hug before patting his back and releasing him, wandering back toward the door.
“I’ll find a place to hang this,” Buck says, gesturing at the precious cargo he’s carrying. “Somewhere Theo can’t reach.”
He nods at the marker scrawled over the dining room walls and Eddie laughs, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I’ll come back before our next shift with a drop cloth.”
Buck nods and laughs along with him, and it feels like he’s finally tethered to the ground again. The cravings aren’t totally gone, far from it, but the reminder of who he is – of what he has – is enough to latch onto for a while.
When Eddie steps outside, the sun shines on Buck’s face and he closes his eyes against the shimmering heat. It’s the last bit of peace he needs to carry the feeling back into the house, waving at Eddie when he hops into his truck.
“Tell Chris thank you,” Buck calls out. Eddie nods and gives a thumbs up before rolling up his window and driving away.
Buck opens the curtains as he walks through the house, stretching the sun into shadows and keeping them tucked away a while longer.
He reaches the sink and pours the contents of the bottle down the drain along with the pills from his pocket, and checks the condom box while he’s at it, making sure there’s nothing else left.
When he washes off the night and settles into the bed in his favorite sweats, he snags Theo’s stuffed bear along the way and keeps a hand on it, hanging onto a piece of him even in sleep.
When he drifts off, it’s with gratitude and relief, not for the first time, that he’s got the strength of people like Eddie and Chris in his corner, ready to combat the darkness and carry in the light.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @judymarch15!!!! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!
cw in ao3 tags, see there for warnings!
below or on ao3
The station is quiet when Eddie gets in, A-shift still a good hour or so out from arrival. The bay is empty – truck, engine, and ambulance gone while the quiet trickle of running water echoes from the loft.
They must be on a call, only man behind cleaning up breakfast dishes while the rest of B-shift is saving lives.
Normally, Eddie would be one of the last to arrive, Christopher’s start later than the other kids and Eddie not usually one to skip the opportunity for a muffin and coffee at his favorite shop nearby.
Today, though, there’s been something simmering just under his skin. It’s familiar, the lingering feeling of being at the ready. He learned it early, eyes focused on his sisters while his dad was out at work. Following him into the military was natural, head on a swivel, always waiting for the next threat.
When he got back to the states, Christopher’s needs demanded Eddie’s attention and when his marriage started to crumble, the eyes at the back of his head grew sharper.
Rest didn’t come any easier when he joined the L.A.F.D., sleeping light, waiting for the shrill blare of the klaxon, shifts rolling through like the tide, never a dull moment.
So it shouldn’t feel any different – not really – that today he feels it peak. The rhythm of something familiar becoming a louder, more synchronized roar.
Eddie slips into the locker room, lacing up his sneakers before he wanders to the apparatus bay, shifting toward the back of the station. Working out has always been meditative for him, the quiet calm of counted reps, the pull of muscle burning with each drag through the steady climb of pushing himself more and more.
Racking the weights becomes routine, lining up steel gray against stark black and running through what he always does settles something in his chest. It’s not quiet, not quite, but the storm of something amiss is kept at bay a little longer.
When Chimney arrives and Hen not long after, Eddie smiles, offers a friendly hello, but knows the look of exhaustion that comes with being a parent. They keep to themselves a little longer, savoring the silence before the rest of the team arrives.
Buck is next, bright and eager to start the day, offering coffee to Eddie and Hen as he strolls into the locker room. He always loosens something in Eddie too, the way he so easily brings the sun with him wherever he goes.
Shadows grow smaller when Harry and Ravi linger in last, their energy boundless in conversation and stride, reminiscing about a game night with May that each claim false accusations over cheating on. Eddie grins, slotting the weights back into place before following them into the locker room himself, snagging a towel before slipping into the shower to keep the calm just a little longer.
The 118 always soothes him, settles into that feeling he’s grown so fond of over the last few years, a family earned and built in equal parts pain and joy. By the time he jogs up the stairs, breakfast is almost done, the sizzle of bacon and the savory scent of onions and garlic floating through the loft, guiding Eddie to the table without thought.
The feeling’s gaining distance now, one that barely grew legs before cowering and disappearing at the sight of something much more powerful. And when Eddie digs into the stack of pancakes Buck plunks in front of him, he barely remembers being anxious at all.
It’s not until the third call that something starts to shatter, the crack widening with each plea and press of skin, reaching out to Eddie, desperate for help.
They’ve had an apartment fire and a medical call, both before noon. A heart attack that left a woman without her husband scraping pieces of Eddie he’d rather leave buried. Shannon’s image always pulls to the front of his mind when they get calls like this, ones that leave him standing in the E.R. staring at her pale, still body as the memory shifts to something stronger.
“We’ve been married sixty-two years,” she says when they ride quietly to the hospital, monitors dark, oxygen mask tucked to the side after failing to draw breath. “I don’t know how to sleep without him next to me.”
Eddie knows he can’t say anything to make it better, can’t settle something in her that’s been sewn into her heart after all this time. Instead he reaches out and takes her hand. She latches on, tears streaming down her cheeks, tucking into wrinkles she’d grown with him at her side.
It doesn’t get any easier after that.
“Dispatch said it’s a city bus,” Chim shouts through the headset as sirens blare above them. Eddie and Hen are in the ambulance, listening to instructions through the radio as they lead the way, a line of hail mary’s at the ready, waiting.
“Any info on casualties?” Eddie asks, his voice echoing in stereo through Hen’s radio as he tries to catalogue what they might need first.
“At least 20,” Chim says. “Sounds like there’s a few head injuries, may have a broken wrist and…”
The silence is short but telling.
“The bus tipped. Said the driver of a car is pinned,” the words are clipped, stoic. When Chim loses the teasing glint that usually comes with everything he says, Eddie’s stomach sinks. “Sounds like there’s someone else on scene. Knows what he’s doing, though.”
Hen and Eddie find one another’s gaze, confusion furrowing Hen's brow.
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks as they get within a couple blocks of the accident.
“Another paramedic or firefighter or something,” Chim says. “Civilians said he’s helping take care of people.”
“Let’s hope he’s actually helping,” Hen mutters only to Eddie, braking when they finally arrive.
It’s a mess of broken glass and fractured metal, a rogue tire lays off to the side, flames ebbing off the rubber. The truck pulls up behind them and Eddie doesn’t spare a glance, knows Buck and Ravi are on it. Instead, he focuses on the victims, swallowing back the feeling of dread that comes with scenes like these.
There are close to thirty people, all pooled at different points around the tipped bus. Some wander aimlessly, blood trickling from temples, hands sticky with it, asphalt and gravel grating against skin.
The 118 are the first to arrive, so Chim’s quick to call for triage as a priority, and Eddie hears the request through his radio for more units and mass casualty protocol at First Presbyterian.
Hen moves quickly toward the bus, pointing toward a group of teenagers nearby and directing Eddie to check on them first.
“Triage, Eddie – tag and stabilize, then move on,” she reminds him. He nods, the knot in his throat pressing against his spine. The couple from earlier tickles the back of his mind, the new widow’s tears slipping in where blood falls on others’ faces.
He sees Shannon again, this time on the street, face up with blood streamed across her brow, brace locked around her neck.
Her shoe was thrown off when she got hit, a pair she was so excited to buy for the summer – ones she’d bragged she got on sale only weeks before.
*
“B.O.G.O, Eddie,” she smirks, strutting down the hall of the house, hips swinging with the sway of her skirt. “I’ve been wanting summer wedges.”
“Can you show me again?” Eddie teases, tongue dragging along his bottom lip while he watches her, eyes locked on her smile, tracing the bounce of her curls. “I think I missed it.”
“Oh did you?” She smirks, twirling again before kicking the shoes off and sliding into his lap on the couch, leaning forward for a kiss.
*
“Please,” a voice echoes in front of Eddie now, “You have to help her!”
The girl can’t be more than fourteen, backpack still slung on her back, disrupted in the pattern of something so mundane.
“Okay, okay, I will,” Eddie moves with her, following her to the small group of teens that are packed together near the sidewalk. One’s slouched against her friend, arm bent at an odd angle, eyelids drooping where she’s tucked into the other’s side.
Eddie crouches in front of her, finds her gaze and tracks her pupils.
“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he says clearly, shoving back painful memories to focus on the present. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Emily,” the one beside her says, voice tight. “I’m Caroline.”
“Hi Caroline, can you tell me what happened?”
“I-I don’t…we were going to the mall. Prom is coming up a-and Emily wants this dress from Anthropologie – she’s been saving for it, her mom gave her extra money because she got good grades,” Caroline rambles, words tripping over one another as she rushes to fill in the gaps.
Eddie waits, brings his fingers to Emily’s pulse, monitors the steady rhythm beneath his fingertips. Steady, but getting weaker. Her eyelids are drooping more, each blink pulling exhaustion deeper through her features.
“–came out of nowhere! Tara and I were sitting a-and the-the pole thing, I grabbed onto it bu-but Emily, she was thrown across the bus…she was standing next to us,” Caroline keeps talking, tears shimmering as Tara paces behind them. Emily’s fading but the other two are conscious, breathing, talking.
“Okay,” Eddie says firmly, reaching out and guiding Tara and Caroline to sit beside Emily. “Why don’t you both just sit here and take a deep breath, okay?”
Tara stumbles but lands heavily next to Caroline, wrapping her in a hug while Eddie works to stabilize Emily.
The sound surrounding them doesn’t falter, doesn’t waver. Each casualty brings two more in their wake, and Eddie works quickly to check critical vitals, tag, and move onto the next.
It’s surreal, accidents like these, bringing out the worst or the best in people, leaving them exposed in ways they’ve never been before.
Injuries pull more than blood from the veins of the victims.
“Eddie!” Hen’s voice pulls him from his focus, the walking wounded sorted into categories like packages on a factory conveyor belt, colors identifying whether they’ll be able to go home or be shuffled off to a hospital for a V.I.P. stay.
He swings around and finds her, waving from beside a car near the bus. There’s something almost comical about the way it’s all aligned, crumpled bus toppled over a little Chevy sedan. The car is bright red and gleaming, fresh from a car wash while the bus leans, dusty and torn over glinting metal.
When Eddie rounds the trunk, it’s clear there’s nothing comical about the way the man trapped inside wails and screams, his pain reverberating against the very same cherry red that Eddie spotted from across the street.
There’s someone else inside with him, blood splattered across his temple, voice scratchy and loud, assertive against Hen’s direction.
He must be the off-duty medic.
“Radial pulse is weak and thready, this guy’s been unconscious for three minutes already. Heartrate is tachycardic, breath sounds are weak, stridor on the left,” Eddie knows the voice in a distant way, one that tugs his memory further back than losing Shannon.
*
“So, what, you’re too good for your old C.O. now that you’re a fancy medic?” Jack says, voice smug and teasing, as he strolls next to Eddie on a base somewhere in the middle of Afghanistan.
Eddie’s lost track of names, places, lengths of time at each. He’s too busy thinking of Shannon and Christopher, back at home, and if he focuses too much on the sand between his boot treads, he’ll get stuck in the desert and lose them for good.
“Second tour, you know. Think I was getting a little fast for you, Abbot,” Eddie teases back, scanning like he always does – for threats or something that looks like one. “Didn’t want you to embarrass yourself trying to keep up.”
“Rich coming from you and those weak ankles,” Jack says, waving at a group of soldiers near the mess tent, digging through for something edible and failing miserably if their bitching has any relation to what they find.
“You tripped me!”
“You fell.”
It’s familiar, the banter between them. Abbot always knew how to keep Eddie focused, keep his head inside the battlefield so he could make it back home. He was trying to do the same, three tours in, not planning to quit any time soon.
“Your joinin’ the next recon?” Jack asks before they finally land near a bench, one that promises warm heat from the sun and a quiet bubble tucked away from the rest of the battalion.
“Me and two others, yeah,” Eddie motions back toward the tent where a small group is preparing ammunition, packing equipment and medical supplies into bags, preparing to leave later tonight.
It’s a small reconnaissance mission, gathering information from a group of spies just beyond the city, Abbot and his team of six and Eddie with his team of three. The medics are always good for talking, trust grows fast and familiar faces earn shared secrets in the shadows of night.
It’s nothing they haven’t been through before. Easy.
*
“Well, well, well,” Abbot says when Eddie slides in beside Hen, opening his kit and reaching for a needle, preparing to start an I.V. “As I live and breathe. If it ain’t Eddie Diaz.”
Eddie smirks, falling into step with Abbot like they were together merely a week ago, but years have passed, time that buried memories in the desert stacks familiarity like bricks between them easily.
“When dispatch mentioned a civilian helping with the crash, I was hoping it would be someone with a little more experience,” Eddie says, leaning over the victim and flashing a pen light over his pupils. “Equal, sluggish.”
“Guessing our guy, Walter, here has a concussion for starters,” Jack says without missing a beat. “Crush injury down here, breathing’s not great, might be looking at internal bleeding.”
“I.V. is in,” Eddie says as he slips the needle into the vein slots the tubing in place. “Pushing saline to start.”
“Let’s get sodium bicarbonate on board and fentanyl, low dose for now,” Jack rattles through commands, the sounds as familiar as the desert to Eddie, sparking memories that already fight so hard to peek through.
Eddie shifts. Re-focuses.
His hands move quickly, muscle memory taking over where logical thought stutters. A mask is placed over Walter’s face, the hiss of fresh oxygen quiet but somehow still so loud in the cab of the sedan.
Jack’s twisting a tourniquet on Walter’s thigh where it’s pinned beneath the dashboard, blood and bone pressing through, purple bruising growing and darkening with each passing second over pale skin.
Clothing is torn, a neck brace is clipped into place, monitors beep wildly relaying everything Jack’s already said.
“I don’t like his breathing,” Jack bites out, hands already reaching for a needle, antiseptic, and gloves. “Prepare for decompression.”
Eddie shakes his head and tightens his fist, digs nails into flesh to sharpen the present moment. Hen’s behind him, watching with bated breath, unsure who Abbot is but trusting enough of Eddie to know he knows what he’s talking about.
*
The rumble of the Humvee rattles Eddie’s joints, reverberating up his ankles and into his knees.
Soldiers line the rows like sardines, shades of brown and green pooling in their uniforms and connecting them – it’s hard to tell where one begins and the other ends, the camouflage doing its damndest to paint them into the desert.
Everything’s going as expected, and by the time they pull into the back lot of a small building, Eddie wonders if it was even worth all nine of them going. Carting off to gather intel from a man and his buddy about a friend-of-a-friend that might know where infantrymen are hiding in wait.
Abbot winks at Eddie when he glances up, grins and hops out before the truck even comes to a stop, and before Eddie and his men have a chance to follow, the truck rocks, an explosion slams against the canvas, loud and all-consuming.
*
“I don’t know about this,” Buck shouts from above where he’s harnessed in, strapping rope and tying knots from above while Ravi shifts cribbing beneath the vehicles from below. “As soon as we move this, this guy’s at risk for being crushed again – there are too many unknowns.”
Chim works from across the scene with the captain from the 126, adding muscle and equipment at all ends of the fractured city bus while extra hands help triage the injured.
Eddie hears the telltale rush of trapped air, fleeing from inside Walter’s chest cavity where he’s tapped between ribs with a needle. Jack’s still monitoring the leg, pressing fingers to flesh where joints are shattered more than the windows of the cars around them.
The sounds of Harry and Ravi grunting, guiding the other team into place, adjusting and trying again without success – it echoes around Eddie and Jack, the world outside the car at odds with the world inside it.
Walter’s stilted breathing and rattling whines sing a symphony of pain – one he’s wholly unaware of – while they focus on getting him stable and getting him free.
“If we can’t move in the next two minutes, he’s as good as dead,” Abbot says, always blunt but never claiming false hope.
“It’s not gonna happen in two,” Buck shouts from above, shifting again and ordering the others to pull with everything they have. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Civilians gather at the edges of the chaos, gawking in shared pain, empathy, or something much worse, and when the bus doesn’t move an inch, a pool of dread settles deep in Eddie’s gut.
*
Eddie shakes his head, loosening the grip of pain that’s crushing his skull and threatening consciousness as dark spots shimmer in his vision.
The side of the Humvee is tattered and set aflame, orange and red curls against the brown, rapidly climbing into the back of the truck where thick smoke has settled. His comrades litter the floor, shaking themselves loose from the same grip of fallout Eddie’s doing his best to escape from.
He glances up and sees Norwhal crouched before him, lips moving but Eddie can’t make out the words. The world sits behind a shrill hum, silence ebbing on the tail end of the throbbing in his head.
Eddie makes sure he can move his arms and legs, that he’s not losing blood anywhere important, before offering a shaky thumbs up. His squad hops out of the Hummer and Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest.
An I.E.D. An explosion. Bodies littering the sand, camouflage that brought them together now offering stark and painful differences between them.
Blood pools beneath three of the soldiers, eyes fixed ahead. Still, unmoving.
Something sharp hits Eddie square in the ribs and sound starts to settle back into place. With it comes a scream so powerful and painful, Eddie’s sure he’ll never forget the sound of it.
Head on a swivel, he turns around and sees him – Abbot, arms outstretched, grappling at what remains of his leg, pieces of rubber and canvas sprawled next to splintered limb in something resembling a boot.
The cries that spill from his mouth are endless, so powerful they drown out the shouts from civilians nearby. Eddie rushes over and kneels, presses his jacket to Abbot’s leg, doing everything he can to stop the bleeding.
The worst type of training spins through his bloodstream – battle injury field medicine ingrained in him like his D.N.A. is in Christopher.
He tears his belt free and tightens it around Abbot’s thigh, shouts that everything’s going to be okay, that Jack is alright, that Eddie can help.
It’s a lie – at least, he thinks it is – his own brain working overtime to push adrenaline into something useful. Norwhal and Murphy help the others, if there are any, but Eddie’s brain can’t track exactly where or how. He’s focused, laser sharp tunnel vision on Abbot and Abbot alone.
Stop the bleeding. Monitor vitals. Remove the dead tissue – the leg.
It happens so fast, Eddie thinks a blink would make him miss it, all the while crawling through time at an impossibly slow crawl.
Torture in equal measure.
*
“We gotta cut him loose or we lose him, Diaz” Abbot says with certainty, voice sharp, jaw set. “You’re the lead and I’m just supporting cast.”
Eddie grins something weak and sickly, memories of the past colliding with the harrowing present.
“Hold on,” Chim says from behind Eddie, stepping closer. “Who is this guy? You can’t make that call.”
“I’m a physician – Jack Abbot – and Eddie Diaz, here, has experience with field injuries like this.” Abbot says, leaning over Walter to get a better view of Chim. It’d be shocking, to most, the sight of him so casually tipped over a bloody man pinned under his steering column, but it’s just another Tuesday to them.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you–”
“We can sit here and chit chat and waste time while this guy bleeds to death, or you can let your guy get him free and save his life,” Jack says. “Your call, Captain.”
They’ve been here before, is the thing. Just like this, trapped in the rushing water of a subway car. Chim’s dealt with it all the same, knows what it’s like to be stuck without the option of something better.
It’s not something any of them want to be comfortable with but it’s a call they’ve made all the same.
Chim looks at Eddie pointedly, brows raised. “You got this?”
Eddie nods once, throat sticky with relief and something else. At least if it’s him, it’ll be his fault if something goes wrong.
He’s used to failure, wears it like a badge of honor.
“I got it, Cap.”
“Atta boy,” Jack smirks, leaning back and shifting into a better position.
Harry, Buck, and Ravi work to get supplies, Hen brings all of the pain medication they have on board and everything the 126 has remaining.
Jack works quickly to get another I.V. started, clips the E.K.G. to Walter’s chest and abdomen, raises the oxygen and calls for blood products if they can get them.
When he leans over Walter to start the effort of freeing him, sacrificing his leg in the process, Eddie has to remind himself over and over that Jack is here – that he’s okay, that he made it through.
It takes time but really takes no time at all before Walter is free, Hen and Eddie carting him to the ambulance and passing him to the 126, ready and waiting to get him to the hospital. His heart rate is stable, he’s breathing steadily, and the blood loss has stalled, but Eddie knows he’s nowhere close to fine.
Jack’s stumbling out of the car when Eddie turns around and he reaches for him as he stretches out his back. The blood across his temple has dried, bruises are slowly starting to bloom across his skin.
But he’s alive. He’s safe. He’s here.
“Come on,” Eddie says, gesturing toward the 118 ambulance. “Let me check you out.”
“Take me to dinner first, jeez,” Abbot says with a smile as he follows Eddie.
*
Eddie loses time as his body works faster than his brain, making sure Jack is breathing, stable, alive.
It doesn’t take long before they retreat, the threat of another attack looming just outside of their periphery. The Humvee still operates, carries the remaining members of the team and the bodies of those that didn’t survive back to camp, where a helicopter’s waiting to evacuate and bring them to a field hospital.
Jack looks so frail, so pale, the spark of sharp dry humor lost behind the cries of pain he lost to the desert.
When they get to the field hospital, Eddie and his team keep moving, are carted back to their own platoon where a sergeant and commanding officer shuffle them through a series of questions. Eddie’s forced to tell the details he remembers more than once, the words tumbling free with the threat of tears just beyond the memories.
After that, he locks the memory deep in the recesses of his mind, another war story for his grave, another notch on a post of nightmares that keep him awake every day of the week.
He doesn’t even know if Jack survived.
*
“I thought you were out in Pittsburgh,” Eddie says as he wraps a blood pressure cuff around Jack’s arm, counts the beats of his pulse under his fingertips. “Why are you in L.A?”
“Conference,” Jack shrugs. “I was supposed to be a keynote speaker at this thing – guess I should call and tell them I’m not gonna make it.”
Eddie laughs, sure and easy, and it feels like it did before everything went sideways.
“Dr. Abbot,” Hen says as she slides in beside Eddie. “Thank you for your help.”
“Jack, please,” he smiles.
Always a flirt, Eddie thinks as a smirk crawls up his cheeks.
“Happy to help. Plus,” Jack gestures to Eddie as he flashes the penlight across Jack’s pupils. Equal, reactive. No head injury – though Eddie doubts they would’ve made it this far without him noticing if he did. “I have first-hand experience with Diaz doing field amputations.”
He lifts his pant leg and shows Hen his prosthetic, and she hums and nods knowingly.
“Wish I didn’t,” Eddie mumbles and Jack reaches out, squeezing his shoulder.
“Saved my life,” Jack says easily, and the words settle something that’s been loose in Eddie since that day.
He’d had to evacuate so quickly after the injury, didn’t get a chance to reconnect for years, and by then neither of them wanted to talk about the tragedy that brought their time alongside one another oversees to an end.
When Eddie looks up, Jack looks at him knowingly, eyes soft and kind, pain and sorrow rooted in his gaze but laced with something gentle.
“I think I could use a drink after this whole ordeal,” Jack says, smile widening as he gives Eddie’s shoulder another squeeze and glances around to the rest of the 118. “On me.”
“We have an hour left,” Eddie says. “And you’re not drinking tonight, Jack. You were just in a bus crash.”
Jack scoffs and dismisses the words with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine, you checked me out yourself. I can have tonic water with lime. C’mon, Diaz, live a little.”
“I’m in,” Buck raises his hand from the back of the pack, smile disarmingly eager. Jack points at him and mirrors the smile, and really, after that, who is Eddie to say no? They part ways and agree to keep in touch.
Eddie tucks his gear into the back of the ambulance and wanders toward the passenger seat, the connection one he thought he’d lost and is happy to find once again.
Still, there’s a flicker of darkness deep inside him, threatening to grow. He closes his eyes and turns his face toward the sun, the warmth on his skin, the light pressing against his lids, pushing that darkness away again.
He’s tired now, and part of him wants to ditch out on the plans, go home and crawl into bed until the morning, but that’s a slippery slope and he knows it. He needs to go out, to be with people, to share some laughs with friends, eat terrible food, and feel alive.
It’s all worth it, to help a friend in need, to save someone who needed saving.
The first four (4 of 16) chapters are available now!
From here on out, I will update weekly.
Ships: Eddie/Shannon/PFC Greggs; buddietommy
Summary: Eddie finds himself negotiating a potential polyamorous relationship with Buck and Tommy. Fortunately, relationship negotiations are just another skill he picked up in Afghanistan.
Tags: Dual timelines; polyamory; previous relationships; developing relationships; coming out; angst; denial of feelings; the canon deaths happen in the fic as well; grief/mourning; divorce; panic attacks; explicit sexual content; eventual happily ever after [for the throuple where.. they’re all still alive.. (buddietommy)]
Note: Happy birthday (observed!) to @judymarch15 🎁 Your friendship is a gift.
This is a birthday gift fic for our beloved @judymarch15! Her chosen birthday theme is "Eddie did it in Afghanistan" so please enjoy this very cracky fic that resulted from that. Happy Birthday, Judy! You are a such a delight - so funny and smart and kind. I'm forever grateful to be in the 🕳️ with you. 😂 Hope you enjoy this! 🥳
Everyone say Happy Birthday, Judy!
A Man of Many Talents
Rated: G | 3K
Summary: When the children’s entertainer for Nash’s birthday party cancels last minute, Eddie surprises everyone with another one of his specially acquired skills.
Excerpt:
Where does the time go?
The thought crashed into Eddie as he finished wrapping Nash’s birthday gift. The kid was turning three. Three! It felt like only yesterday they were still calling him Baby Nash and gathering to celebrate his first birthday—an occasion that, after a truly terrible year, felt like they were all turning a corner. And now so much had changed…
“Uh-oh,” Christopher stopped short as he stepped into the living room, shaking his head at Eddie. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” Eddie sniffed. Damn allergies.
“Getting all weird and sentimental.” Christopher groaned out a laugh. “You have to stop doing that before we go to the party or you’re gonna get roasted.”
True. Jee had really inherited her father’s sense of humor.
[Continue reading]
Sometimes I forget people aren't multishippers then I see someone talking about how they used to ship something then got a new ship and I'm like what do you mean you aren't just collecting ships like cool rocks you see on the ground
Summary: Maddie sends a sick Josh home from work. his boyfriend Eddie comes over to take care of him.
Read on AO3 or below
“Josh, we’re fine here, just go home,” Maddie said, the previous gentle suggestion in her tone now replaced by something more firm and boss-like.
Josh finished wiping his nose and dropped the used tissue into the half-full garbage can beneath his desk, then made a show of pumping hand sanitizer into his palm before thoroughly rubbing it in.
“I can finish my shift, it’s not so bad,” Josh said, half the consonants in the sentence morphing to b’s thanks to his congestion.
Maybe it was that bad.
He grabbed his Stanley (when had everyone switched to Owala? His bank account couldn’t keep up with damn water vessel trends) and took a long drink of cold water, feeling it soothe his raw, aching throat.
“I say this with love. You’re disgusting. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you getting everyone else sick,” Maddie said, giving him a look. “I can be one person down, but I’m screwed if I have a repeat of the food poisoning incident.”
Josh grimaced at the…colorful…memories.
He wanted to argue but he was starting to feel sweaty and feverish. Plus, she had a point. He hated when people came to work sick. It was so rude. But like most things, he gave himself a pass because it was fine when he did it. Just not when anyone else did.
Josh packed up his stuff and gave his work station a solid Clorox wipe down before he grabbed his bag and left.
Since it was an odd time, traffic was kind. Still, in the twenty minutes it took him to get home, he’d managed to develop a full-blown fever. His face felt hot while the rest of him felt chilled. His head felt heavy and full, pounding with a pressure headache.
Instead of taking the time to put things where they belonged, he dropped his bag haphazardly in the entryway to his apartment and forced his shoes off without untying them. He was pretty sure if he bent down to do that he’d be dizzier than he already was. He had enough presence of mind to bring his Stanley with him to the bedroom and set it on the bedside table.
Tylenol was probably a good idea, but the medicine cabinet was all the way in the bathroom.
Maybe a nap would do the trick.
Josh took off his belt and dropped it onto the floor. Fully undressing and re-dressing seemed daunting, so he just undid the top few buttons of his shirt, unbuttoned his pants, and climbed into bed, shivering.
Josh woke sometime later to the sound of the bedroom door opening. He groaned, feeling disgusting and damp in his own sweat, both too hot and too cold. He knew he should probably be alarmed at the fact there was a person inside his apartment, but he didn’t have the energy.
“If you’re here to murder me, please make it fast,” he said hoarsely. “And do me the courtesy of disposing of the sex toys in the box under my bed. My best friend doesn’t need to see that when she comes to clean out the place.”
He heard a familiar, warm chuckle that let him know the chances of being murdered were zero.
“Don’t worry. I’d never let Maddie find your stuff,” Eddie said.
A relatively cool hand brushed over Josh’s forehead followed by the soft touch of familiar lips and the tickle of a mustache.
“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” Eddie said gently, smoothing his hand over Josh’s sweaty hair.
“Just hot for you-” Josh said, barely getting the words out before a coughing fit took over.
“Don’t flirt,” Eddie scolded playfully. “Have you taken anything?”
Josh shook his head.
“Alright, hold on…”
Josh let loose a pathetic sigh when Eddie left. He didn’t remember calling or texting him but he also barely remembered the drive home from dispatch at this point. It didn’t matter, he was just glad Eddie was there.
Josh listened to Eddie rummage around the medicine cabinet before he came back.
“Alright, handsome, can you sit up for me?” Eddie asked.
Josh opened his eyes and looked up at Eddie. He was still in his uniform.
“Did I call 911?” Josh asked.
“No. Maddie texted that she sent you home early,” Eddie said while he helped Josh sit up and adjusted the pillows behind his back. “I think she heavily suggested to Chim that I come check on you. He called someone in to cover and told me to leave.”
“You’re all so dramatic,” Josh rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but smile that he had people in his life who thought he was worth making a fuss over.
Eddie picked up Josh’s hand and put two pills into his palm. “Take these, then I’m going to take your temperature.”
Josh took the pills obediently, washing them down with a couple sips of water. Then Eddie put a thermometer in his ear.
“You’re definitely sick if you didn’t argue with me,” Eddie remarked, then the thermometer beeped. He checked it with a frown. “102.”
Josh sighed and lay back against the pillows. Being upright was making him feel a little nauseous, so he closed his eyes.
“Think I can get you out of these clothes?” Eddie asked, undoing a button on Josh’s shirt.
“Is all the snot and phlegm doing it for you?” Josh smirked tiredly. “Kinky little freak.”
“Maybe,” Eddie said, humoring him while he put the straw of Josh’s cup up to his lips. Josh took a few sips. “I just think your work uniform is probably not the most comfortable thing to be sleeping in.”
“I’m too tired,” Josh said, whinier than he would have liked.
“Okay, maybe just the shirt?” Eddie asked, though he was already finishing unbuttoning it. He carefully took it off Josh’s arms, leaving him in just a plain undershirt.
With careful, practiced hands, Eddie helped him lay back down, shifting the pillows carefully beneath his head before tucking the covers around him.
“You’re gonna feel a lot better once we get this fever down,” Eddie reassured him, stroking his hair.
Josh believed him. Eddie knew what he was talking about, of course, but it wasn’t just that he was a paramedic. He had grown to really trust Eddie more than anyone else.
He didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed showing this disgusting side of himself and he wasn’t ashamed to let Eddie take care of him either. He knew, even if it was inconvenient, this was where Eddie wanted to be. He didn’t doubt that for a second.
It had taken time to get to where they were now. There had been and would continue to be ups and downs. But once Eddie realized he loved Josh, he made sure Josh knew, every single day. He said he never wanted Josh to wonder and that you never knew when it might be the last time.
Josh took that to heart and he made sure that, even if they bickered and got bitchy and gave each other a hard time, Eddie knew he was loved too.
“Get some rest. I’ll be here,” Eddie said, then kissed his warm forehead again. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Josh mumbled softly as he fell asleep.
Josh woke a few times during his sleep, disoriented and hazy, throat aching and dry from breathing through his mouth. Every time he woke up Eddie was there next to him, coaxing him to take sips of water, gently soothing him back to sleep.
When Josh finally woke up after having had a good amount of sleep, he looked over to see Eddie reading a book with one hand, his other hand on Josh’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth idly. He’d changed out of his uniform and into some sweats he kept at Josh’s place. It was dark outside and the bedside lamp was on.
“Hey,” Josh croaked.
Eddie closed the book and smiled over at him. “Hey,” he said, touching Josh’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Your fever’s down.”
Josh nodded a little, then shifted around to put his head in Eddie’s lap. Eddie scratched his scalp gently.
“Give me a rundown of your symptoms,” Eddie said.
“Congestion, obviously,” Josh said, exaggerating it so he sounded like Rudolph in the old stop motion Christmas movie when his dad covered his nose. Josh always thought that part was homophobic - some jock dad telling his son to shine less and fit in with the other guys. Eddie loved the movie though, so both Josh and Chris sat through it this past Christmas.
And yeah, they bitched the whole time.
“Obviously,” Eddie repeated.
“Sore throat, cough, chills,” Josh continued listing off. “A little achy.”
Eddie nodded along, then pressed his fingers to Josh’s neck, checking his pulse. He seemed satisfied by whatever it was.
“You feel like you can eat a little something? Pepa brought over some chicken soup I can heat up. Buck stopped by with some rolls that would probably be good with it,” Eddie said, his fingers soothing as they moved around Josh’s scalp. “He brought snickerdoodles too, but maybe we work up to those.”
Josh’s eyes filled with tears. He’d blame the illness for making him weepy. “People dropped stuff off?”
“Of course. You’re beloved.”
Josh let out a happy sigh. “I should get sick more often.”
“Let’s not put that out into the universe,” Eddie said.
Josh turned to look up at Eddie with exaggerated shock. “Superstitious? You?”
“If you have the energy to be an ass, you have energy to eat.”
Josh flashed Eddie his most charming smile, causing Eddie to shake his head and laugh. “You are so lucky you’re cute,” Eddie said. “I’ll be back with soup.”
Josh forced himself to get up out of bed and use the bathroom, still wearing his work pants, still unbuttoned. He looked in the mirror and frowned at what he saw. His eyes were rimmed red with dark circles hanging beneath. He was pale, except for the burning red cheeks. It was like bad stage makeup or that one time Maddie got a little blush-blind and showed up at work looking clown-ish. (He had done the decent thing, of course, and told her right to her face). His hair had seen better days, but he was going to blame Eddie for that one.
He had grand plans to change out of his work pants, but apparently the sass he’d given Eddie and the trip to the bathroom had stolen the last of his energy. He managed to get the pants off, but finding something else seemed too hard so he climbed right back into bed in his undershirt, socks, and underwear.
Eddie walked in with a steaming bowl of soup on a lap tray. He looked so cozy in his sweats and, as usual, stupidly hot. Josh was so glad he’d convinced Eddie to grow back the mustache within the first few weeks of them dating. He was hot without it, sure, but with it…damn.
The soup was delicious with rich, homemade chicken broth and lots of vegetables. He mostly spooned the broth up, each swallow soothing his throat and making his nose run.
“Tell me about work or something so I don’t have to hear myself breathing and eating. It’s gross,” he said, wiping his nose with a tissue.
Obligingly, Eddie told him about the calls they’d had before he left. It was fun hearing how things actually played out, since his job tended to end once help arrived and he rarely got the end of the story.
Eddie took his tray when he was finished, then climbed back into bed with him. Josh scooted over and cuddled up to him, then shivered.
“Baby, are you cold?” Eddie asked, then he lifted the bedding and noticed Josh’s bare legs. Eddie gave him a look. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was warm enough with the soup,” Josh said, then coughed, which sounded pathetic and not at all on purpose.
Eddie got up and instead of grabbing Josh some clothes from the dresser, he pulled off his own hoodie as he walked around the bed, leaving himself completely topless. He impatiently put it over Josh’s head and got him settled into it. It was still warm from Eddie’s body heat and smelled like him.
“Unbelievable,” Eddie muttered under his breath, still not over the fact that Josh was in bed, pantsless.
It really wasn’t a big deal, but then Eddie pulled his sweatpants down. Josh was kinda hoping he’d gone commando underneath, but he had on a pair of briefs.
“I’m into this sexy nurse stripper thing you’re doing,” Josh said, which would have been sexier if he hadn’t immediately sneezed.
Eddie’s mouth curved into a crooked grin. “Oh yeah?”
Josh grinned back, then immediately had to wipe his nose when it started running. Gross.
Eddie did a little body roll that was as goofy and embarrassing as it was sexy. God Josh loved this stupid man.
Once Josh had been sufficiently dressed, Eddie grabbed himself a pair of basketball shorts. He remained shirtless, which was very kind and generous of him.
When Eddie got back into bed with him, he handed Josh two more pills, which Josh took without argument. They shifted around to get comfortable, Josh wedged right up against Eddie, head on his chest and an arm around his waist.
“Wake me up if you need anything, okay?” Eddie said, rubbing Josh’s back. “I have popsicles or lozenges if your throat hurts, cough meds if that gets worse.”
Josh remembered the only time he’d seen Eddie sick. He had been the worst patient and kept insisting on getting his own things. Then he’d passed out on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night and Josh had called Chimney in a panic to come help.
Josh had given Eddie an earful when he came to and told him to stop trying to be so tough and stubborn. He’d reminded Eddie that he didn’t have to carry it all himself, that Josh was there to be his partner and share the load. It also happened to be the first time he’d seen Eddie cry.
“I will wake you up,” Josh promised. “I do not suffer in silence.”
“No you do not,” Eddie agreed then kissed the top of Josh’s head affectionately. “I love you. Good night.”
“Love you too,” Josh said before he closed his eyes. He fell asleep quickly, wrapped in the warmth and safety of Eddie’s arms.
tags: canonical character death, infidelity, firefighter Eddie Diaz, contractor Sal Deluca, more tags on AO3
Read on AO3, excerpt below
It had started with the kitchen backsplash tiles. Then Sal decided to redo the kitchen cabinets and replaced some with open wood shelves. He always liked that look. Painted the cabinets a soft green color he picked up from the pattern on the tiles.
Sal liked having color in his house. He was always redoing everyone else’s kitchens and bathrooms in shades of white and grey and beige. And yeah it looked nice but it also looked like everyone else’s house. He supposed if he was having to pay someone else to do it all for him he might be a little boring. But he knew if he got tired of the green he could just redo it himself. It was freeing.
Next he attacked the en suite for the primary bedroom. He ripped out the pre-fab shower and tiled it. He’d gone for a green-blue sea glass sort of color with gold fixtures. He took out a closet and used the extra space for a good sized tub.
It was all a perfect distraction.
It had taken nearly a year, but Sal had stopped waking up in the morning feeling like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. Something about the grief never going away but you learn to carry it. He’d listened to a podcast about loss and grief back when he redid the kitchen, hoping it would help. He’d rolled his eyes at a lot of (most of) it, but some of it sank in anyway.
Now he was staring down the barrel of two weeks between jobs and no home projects in the works. Yet. He had grand plans to hit up an estate sale the next day. Maybe he’d find some art or a piece of furniture to inspire the next project. Maybe the dining room or one of the extra bedrooms.
His sister Gia told him he should relax, take a vacation or something.
Like he’d ever taken a vacation in his damn life.
Certainly not when they were kids and his parents were just trying to make ends meet. Then after Dad passed it was up to him to keep them all afloat until his siblings were grown and on their own. Then there were all the years he paid for their mom’s assisted living facility, refusing to let his siblings contribute a dime. And after that he just…worked. Because it’s all he’d done since he was 14 years old and he didn’t know what else to do with himself.
And he was afraid that, in the stillness and quiet, without the weight of exhaustion numbing his brain, the grief would take hold.
Sal flopped onto the couch the night before the stretch of days off, completely full of dread. He put the TV on. He felt like he was the last person on earth who still had cable. He refused to sign up for any streaming services out of principle. So he just kicked his feet up on the ottoman and flipped channels, his free hand tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants.
If it sparks joy for you, a 5 facts au where Tommy is Eddie's instructor in like basic training or something (and they either hookup or Eddie has a crush or whatever) and then Sal is Eddie's instructor when he joins the LAFD and Eddie realizes he may have a thing for authority figures and also finds out that Sal and Tommy are besties now and oh noooooooo how could the three of them possibly resolve this situation???
I'm taking some liberties with military training because........I don't feel like looking anything up. It's NSFW as hell in here. There's infidelity, because Shannon exists but is in this for two sentences.
1. Eddie's in combat training, even though he's a medic. A guy's still gotta know how to survive. They're supposed to learn about the choppers. He's not going to learn how to pilot one, but he'll know the important stuff: turning one off and on on the ground, how to bail out, how to survive if one crashes. Tommy's somehow on IRR--maybe he had reenlisted? Or Eddie is closer to Ryan's actual age and this happens before 2013. Regardless, Eddie has some hulking, grim-faced dude explaining all of the important chopper stuff to him. He's taking copious notes, because he'll be in one a lot. This guy used to fly medevac mostly, so he can answer a lot of Eddie's questions. After the day is over, Eddie approaches and thanks him. He doesn't mention that he has a son to get home to, just that he's hoping to worry about one less thing. "Oh, you'll never stop worrying," Kinard says, his tone suddenly lighter. He even smiles a little as he packs his shit into his bag. "Or you go numb to it. Don't do that. You do what you have to so you can survive, but don't go numb to all of it. The fear's healthy, keeps you alive." "What do you do now?" Eddie asks. "I'm a firefighter," he replies. "Sounds like you're an adrenaline junkie," Eddie says, nearly teasing. Kinard winks, and Eddie's stomach swoops to his knees.
2. Eddie's gone through a couple more days with Kinard instructing them. He's still giving off hardass vibes, but he's cool outside of the training. Eddie catches him at the base gym and sees him wailing on a punching bag. "You do kickboxing?" Eddie asks. "Muay Thai," he replies. And he shows Eddie some moves, and it's cool as hell. When they head out, they end up going into town to grab a bite to eat, because Kinard--Tommy--hates the chow hall food. Eddie's sick of it, too, it's usually unseasoned slop. He shows Tommy a little spot that's the closest they can get to a taqueria, and they eat good food and sip cold beer, because Eddie doesn't get carded there. "You're just a pup," Tommy teases, his eyes going crinkly at the edges when he smiles. "Mm, says you," Eddie shoots back. "They think I'm 21." In his defense, he hadn't said it, they'd just assumed when he showed up with some older guys the first time. "Still a pup," Tommy says, his eyes sweeping over Eddie. "How old are you?" Eddie asks. "Twenty-five, so I'm a wise old man," Tommy says with a huge roll of his eyes that makes Eddie laugh.
3. They get more beers, and Eddie gets the feeling that Tommy's flirting. Not seriously, but he's got a way about him when he makes certain comments. It reminds Eddie of one of the boys he used to compete with, the one from Salt Lake who told Eddie he was cute and gave him a flower after a competition. He hadn't seemed like that, but neither does Tommy. Tommy has the vibe of sometime older, wiser, in charge, competent. Eddie asks him about flying, and he gets the impression while Tommy uses hot sauce bottles and lime wedges as fake instruments that he's really fucking good. "You should reenlist and keep my ass alive," Eddie says, bringing his beer to his lips. "It's a nice ass." "Hadn't noticed," Tommy says, and Eddie can tell he's lying.
4. Tommy casually brings them to a motel, pays with his card and uses his California license as ID. Eddie waits in the rental car and meets him in the room. Inside, they turn on ESPN and make it through five minutes of baseball highlights before Tommy's on top of him and kissing him. It's different than kissing Shannon, which Eddie feels a deep stab of guilt over, because Tommy's in charge and uses a lot of tongue but it's fucking hot. It makes Eddie want to grind against him, but Tommy pins him. "You ever do this before?" Tommy asks, and Eddie shakes his head. Doesn't matter what he's asking about, the answer is probably no. "I'll be careful," Tommy says. Not gentle, but careful. But he lets go of Eddie's wrists and asks him if he wants this, and Eddie nods and pulls him down for another kiss. Tommy guides him through a blowjob, and it's gotta be the worst he's ever had, but he's being nice about it and directing him and praising him, and Eddie's shaking by the time Tommy cums on his own stomach. Then Tommy rolls him onto his back and gives him the best blowjob of his life. After, they shower separately and get dressed. Eddie goes outside and across the street to the liquor store to buy some chips, Tommy rolls up outside with the car, and they go back to base. The whole time, Eddie's trying not to get hard again.
5. The night before Tommy leaves, he takes them to the motel again and rides Eddie. He's got a hand pinned to Eddie's chest, he's telling him when to move or when not to move, and Eddie breathes out a "Yes, sir" once and it's all over from there. He's under Tommy, whining and pleading and being a good soldier and following everything Tommy says even if it feels like torture. But the good kind. The kind that makes his mouth water when he thinks about it after, that gets him so hard it hurts and he has to jerk off in the bathroom with his knuckles between his teeth until they bleed. And then Eddie goes to Iraq.
6. Eddie joins the fire academy, and there's a guy barking orders on the tower drill who gives Eddie deja vu. He's built, blue eyed, and a vibe that he knows his shit and that's why he's in charge. When Eddie catches him laughing at some dumb mistake one of the other cadets makes, it's disarming. But it's not Tommy. This guy is named Sal Deluca, he's helping out at the academy as a favor or because he lost a bet, it changes with every barked complaint. By the time they're done, Eddie wants to lay down and die, but he stumbles toward Sal and thanks him. "Kid, you must be a fuckin' masochist," Sal says, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. "Maybe a little," Eddie concedes, and Sal's expression freezes for a moment and then he gives some bullshit excuse and leaves. He's in charge the rest of the week. On the last day, Eddie idles outside the instructor's office that Sal's using. "I can hear your squeaky little boots, whoever that is," Sal says loud enough that Eddie can hear him through the door. He comes in, and Sal pushes back from the desk and looks at him a long moment, his knees spread. "Well, well, well," Sal says, his voice almost soft. "What are we going to do with you, Diaz?"
7. Eddie and Sal crash through Sal's front door like they're trying to break in, and while Sal closes it, Eddie starts stripping. "Whoa, hold on," Sal says, and Eddie freezes. "I like unwrapping my presents, sweetheart." And Eddie gets undressed by Sal, he's naked and Sal is dressed, and he gets on his knees. He'd had a weird thing with popsicles after Tommy, had shaken most of his gag reflex that way. When Sal sinks into his mouth and calls him a good boy, Eddie pulls off and looks up at him and says, "Thank you, sir." He gets pulled to his feet and kissed and then hustled down a short hallway to a bedroom, and he tells Sal he took an extra long shower after training, and Sal has him ass up on the bed immediately. Eddie isn't allowed to touch himself while Sal eats him out or when he fingers him open or when he fucks into him. "You just need cock, baby, you don't need anything else," Sal coos in his ear, running surprisingly gentle hands over him. Eddie barely needs to get touched at all before he's cumming on Sal's blanket.
8. Eddie has to rush to go pick up Christopher, but he gives Sal his number. They meet up again a few days later when his son is with his cousins, and Eddie begs to fuck Sal. He has to move at Sal's direction, and Eddie remembers doing the same with Tommy, only Tommy had been on top. Sal is laying on his back with his legs pulled back and gently urging him on. After, Eddie's getting water and wanders through the front room a little on his way to the bedroom. He sees a picture of Sal in a group of firefighters, and he's got his arm around one guy's shoulder. Eddie drops the glass, and it hits the carpet with a soft thump. "Tommy?" he says.
9. Sal tells Tommy to come over, and Tommy walks in and sees Eddie and does a comical double take. "Holy shit," he says. "You're--" "Yep," Eddie says. "--alive," Tommy finishes. "Thanks to you," Eddie says, shrugging. Tommy's eyes flick to the ugly scar on his shoulder. "Bail out, get behind better cover, make sure the rotors are off even if you think it's dead." And Tommy shakes his head, and Eddie hugs him. He has to, especially after all that. "What are you doing here?" Tommy asks. "In LA? I'm here for my kid," Eddie says. "And I'm at the fire academy. Sounded like a good gig." "You're the hot cadet?" Tommy asks, looking at Sal. "How was I supposed to know this was soldier boy?" Sal asks defensively. Apparently Eddie had come up as one of Tommy's just before coming out hookup stories. And Tommy and Sal kind of have a thing, but it's not exclusive yet. "Sorry," Eddie says. "Don't be," Tommy says, looking at him thoughtfully.
10. Eddie joins the 118 off the back of Sal leaving. Everyone's nice. They ask about him, and he talks about his son mostly. Tommy pretends he doesn't know him, like he and Sal don't regularly put him between them and boss him around. He pins Eddie against the wall in the laundry room and they make out after one of Eddie's first calls, and Bobby walks in on them with a bundle of uniform shirts. They get pulled into his office, and he's pissed at both of them for not disclosing this. There's HR forms. They both ask for a second set, because Sal's going to be promoted sooner rather than later, and it's going to make shit complicated when Eddie's dating a captain. Bobby looks at all four forms with quiet astonishment. "Sorry," Eddie says. "Go clean the kitchen," Bobby says, pinching his nose. When Tommy transfers, Eddie kisses his frosting covered mouth. "Oh shit," Chimney says faintly. "Did anyone know about this?" "Nope," Hen says. They drag them out to a badge and ladder bar after, and they look surprised when Sal joins them. He sits down and kisses both Tommy and Eddie hello, and Hen promptly orders shots.
11. When Sal gets promoted, Eddie steals his new turnout coat and puts it on with a jock. "Congratulations, sir," he says, trailing his fingers over Sal's chest. He's still wearing both while he gets stuffed at both ends, Sal's fingers twisting in the hem of the coat where his name is. "Eyes up, soldier," Tommy murmurs, and Eddie looks up at him though his lashes while he sucks his cock. "What do you say when you get your holes filled?" Eddie pulls off with a wet gasp and looks up at him. "Thank you, sirs," he says. "Thank you for filling my holes." Sal pulls him up and spears him back on his cock, a hand curling around his neck while Tommy presses a hand to his sternum to keep him up. "And what do you say when you want more?" Sal asks. "Please, sirs," he whines, feeling like he's got hot static running under his skin. They flip him over on his back, his head hanging off the bed, and Tommy fucks his mouth until he's pressing his pelvis against Eddie's mouth. Sal's still fucking him, calling him good and strong for taking it so well. When Eddie cums, he's sobbing and clutching at them.
12. They do date like a normal relationship. Things are awkward with Shannon for a minute, more when she finds out he hooked up with Tommy back before he was deployed. Tommy didn't know, but he still feels guilty. "We shouldn't have been married anyway," she says. "But thanks, I guess. Eddie, fuck you." The divorce is quick and quiet, and Christopher isn't happy about it until he realizes the only change is that now he sees both his parents. Plus he gets two bonus guys, because Sal and Tommy are great with him. They're not trying to be stepdads, and Eddie doesn't think he wants them to be. He gets used to the idea of a family looking like something different for him.
Sal set an alarm, even though he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. He pictured himself lying in bed, heart racing, nerves all keyed up worrying that he was going to blow this chance that he had with Tommy.
But he’d completely underestimated the shitty quality of sleep that he’d gotten sleeping in his fucking car in front of Tommy’s house.
The second his body hit his mattress, he was out like a light.
———
He woke up an hour later to his phone’s alarm, but his deep sleep brain was all in a panic about it. Like he was waking up to the tones in the firehouse.
He took a deep breath to calm himself.
Remind himself he wasn’t at work.
Day off.
And somehow, he was getting to spend it with Tommy.
Kind of made him wonder if he was still asleep.
But the ache in his body let him know that sleeping in his car hadn’t been a dream - so this all must be real.
He made some toast and coffee, like he was starting his day over. Really, it was just to get some food on his stomach so he wouldn’t make himself nauseous by popping a few ibuprofen.
He hopped in the shower and took his time letting the steamy hot water soothe his lungs as he took deep breaths and tried to tell himself that he’d earned this new shot with Tommy.
He’d done the fucking work.
Tommy had seen that.
He didn’t have to torture himself over the kinda guy he’d been nearly a decade ago.
His thoughts filled with *fresh starts* as the water ran over his body.
And he couldn’t resist allowing his fingers to trace over himself as well.
*Tommy..* he thought, as his mind raced back to the good times between them. The things that kept getting forgotten with the way that the memories of the bad times seemed to drape their entire relationship, suffocating everything precious that they’d shared.
He wrapped his hand around himself and leaned against the cool tile of the shower as he stroked himself with a slow, tight grip.
He remembered the way that Tommy had smelled. The weight of him. How patient he was with Sal, who hadn’t known jack shit about anything resembling good sex before he let Tommy show him.
It had been new, and terrifying, and.. safe.
And he’d missed him so fucking much.
—
Sal stepped out of the shower with his tear ducts and balls emptied.
He thought entirely too much about what to wear.
He wanted Tommy to be impressed. He also wanted Tommy to see the real him.
*The real you is impressive,* Sal reminded himself.
Sal sighed, and settled for a nice fitting pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He did shave. And maybe he wouldn’t normally wear any kind of fragrance to pick up a car from a dive bar parking lot, or for a casual lunch.
But he wasn’t going to kid himself that this was anything casual for him.
He looked down at his phone and exhaled slowly.
He texted Tommy: **Ready when you are**
And god, if that hadn’t been the truth for what felt like the longest time..
Some buddietommy pet ownership scribbles below for you @nzchance!
1. Maybe they were all feeling empty-nesty now that Chris was out of the house, but one night over dinner they decided they should get a pet. Well, Buck had been wanting a pet for a long time, but finally convinced the other two to get onboard. Tommy thought they should start with something small and easy, that wouldn’t have trouble with them being gone for long shifts. This was how they ended up with a cute little box turtle. There was a bit of arguing about the name because, well, they all had a different favorite Ninja Turtle. Buck’s favorite was Michaelangelo. Tommy liked Raphael. Eddie preferred Leonardo. Then Buck felt sorry for Donatello and argued for that for a while, just to be fair. Ultimately they named the turtle Ooze and walked away from the conversation with a great idea for Halloween costumes that year.
It was fun at first. They got his little tank set up. Buck did a lot of research about it, wanting to give Ooze the optimal living conditions and enough enrichment to keep his little turtle brain active. They’d sit and watch him doing his thing, basking under his light, eating his lettuce. But there was only so much interaction you could have with a turtle. Even a turtle as awesome as Ooze.
2. “What about a guinea pig?” Buck suggested one day while he was carefully cleaning Ooze’s tank while Tommy and Eddie kept an eye on the turtle while he slowly meandered around in the grass.
“A giant rodent? No thanks,” Tommy said, sticking his leg out as a barrier so Ooze couldn’t wander too far.
“It would be more interactive than Ooze,” Buck argued, then looked over at the turtle apologetically. “Sorry dude.”
“Can we name it Splinter?” Eddie asked.
And so, Master Splinter was adopted from LA County Animal Shelter. He had short fluffy hair that stuck out like he’d licked a light socket and he was very cute. Until the first night when Buck and Eddie were fooling around on the couch and Splinter decided to squeak. Nonstop. Loudly. And only when things were getting good and heated up. Maybe it was something about the moaning that set him off…
“Kinda killing the mood, man,” Eddie said, glaring over at Splinter’s cage.
“Let’s just go back to the bedroom and close the door,” Buck said.
Eddie grumbled to himself, because this was supposed to be one of the perks of having no kid in the house.
Luckily, Tommy had a friend who was in the market for a classroom pet, so Splinter found a happier home with a bunch of first graders. The class voted and renamed him Marshmallow. They were sent many pictures of Marshmallow’s adventures. He definitely seemed happier there.
3. “What about a rabbit?”
“No,” Eddie and Tommy said in unison.
“I saw some TikToks about people who had their bunny out of the cage, hopping around the house. They basically litterbox trained it. It was so cute!”
Eddie busied himself sipping his coffee so he didn’t have to say no again and Tommy gave him a dirty look. And then somehow they found themselves at the rescue again.
They should have known they were tempting fate by naming the rabbit Master Shredder. In the first day, she chewed the spines of Tommy’s paperback books that he had on the bottom shelf in the living room and tore one book to bits, chewed through a lamp cord (and by some miracle did not electrocute herself), and pooped pretty much everywhere she hopped.
Shredder was quickly relegated to her hutch and she made sure to thump her displeasure about it.
“She’s miserable,” Buck said a few weeks later, handing her a baby carrot before closing the door to her hutch again.
Tommy sighed. “I know, but she has to stay in there.”
Eddie walked in wearing nothing but a pair of cut off jean shorts, covered in sweat and smelling like fresh cut grass. That quickly pulled their attention.
“Hey,” he said before taking a big swig of iced tea, carelessly enough that a little ran down his chin. Tommy and Buck followed it like cats with a laser pointer. “So, I was talking to Betty next door and she said her granddaughter just joined a 4H group that shows rabbits. I know we love Splinter-”
“Speak for yourself,” Tommy muttered, still bitter about his books.
“Anyway,” Eddie continued, wiping some sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. “It sounds like her granddaughter is in the market for a rabbit of her own…”
And so Splinter went off to live with Betty and Frank’s adorable granddaughter Becky. She renamed her Princess Buttercup. Buck, Eddie, and Tommy went to the county fair to see Becky show her. She did a great job.
4. “I can’t believe you guys decided to get a pet after I moved out,” Chris said, sitting next to Ooze’s tank watching him bask on his rock.
“You always asked for a dog,” Eddie pointed out. “There was no way we could make that work. Plus, you got to play with Gus a lot.”
Gus was the German Shepherd who lived next door.
“What pet are you going to try next?” Chris asked Buck, who was sitting next to him while they turtlewatched.
“We’re taking a little break,” Buck sighed.
“You should get a bird!” Chris said. “Birds are cool.”
“No,” Buck said quickly, to everyone’s surprise.
“Really?” Tommy asked, looking up from the book he was reading. A book with a completely chewed up spine, but enough was left to hold the pages together.
“Birds…freak me out. I don’t want one flying around in our house.”
“They’re usually in cages,” Chris pointed out.
“Yeah, but then that’s too sad. Birds should fly. Just…not near me.”
“What about a chicken? They don’t fly,” Chris said, then looked over at Tommy with a grin.
Tommy gave him an unamused look. “Chim should have never told you that story.”
5. “I know we said we were going to pause on pets for a little bit but…” Buck said while the three of them were in a heap on the bed - breathless, naked, and sated.
“Did you purposely wait until this moment to bring this up?” Tommy asked dryly.
“No,” Buck insisted, trying not to smile because she was a little shit and absolutely did.
Eddie laughed and kissed whatever was closest to him, which happened to be Buck’s ankle. “What do you want now?”
“A cat. We’d have to put a lid on Ooze’s tank but…it would be fine when we’re gone on our shifts. We wouldn’t have to let it out or walk it like a dog. I don’t think any of us are allergic, we’ve been around cats before.”
Tommy shifted around to look up at Buck, his head resting on his stomach. “I think that could work, actually. As long as it doesn’t destroy anything.”
“And it actually uses the litter box,” Eddie added.
Buck moved around and both Tommy and Eddie grunted in protest at having to move too. But eventually they all ended up sitting against the headboard, huddled together to look at available cats on the animal shelter website.
They went to the shelter the next day to meet a few, then fell in love with a bonded pair named Ketchup and Mustard. They agreed it was probably a good idea to get two, so they could keep each other company.
And so, Ketchup and Mustard came to live at the Buckley-Diaz-Kinard house. They were promptly renamed April O’Neil and Casey Jones, because they had to see the Ninja Turtles theme through to the end. Plus, it was adorable.
They bought a nice big cat tree, a couple cat beds, lots of things to scratch.
April and Casey were a little timid at first and spent a lot of time hiding under the bed in Christopher’s old room. April was the braver of the two and she ventured out first. The guys tried to play it cool and not scare her, but they were all so excited. Soon they were playing with her and rolling a toy around for her to chase. Eddie took about a million pictures of her while she played, then when she took a nap in a sunny spot in the middle of the floor.
The next day Casey came out to see what he was missing out on.
Buck, Eddie, and Tommy adored their cats. Their group text thread was full of pictures and videos of the cats shared with each other.
When Chris was over for dinner he complained that he’d been replaced, then spent most of the evening with one or both of the cats on his lap, purring while he pet them.
Casey was the more timid of the two and a lot more chill. April liked to instigate, pawing at Casey until he’d play fight with her. The cats mostly ignored Ooze. Sometimes April would watch him, paw at the glass a little, but otherwise left the guy alone to live his best turtle life.
By some miracle they never scratched the furniture or anything they weren’t supposed to, they always used their litterboxes, and if the adult humans in the house started to get a little frisky with each other, they were completely disinterested and just walked away and slept on Christopher’s empty bed.
“I think we should build a catio,” Eddie said, his legs draped over Tommy’s lap while they lounged on their outdoor couch on the back patio.
“A what?”
Eddie handed his phone to Tommy to look at the website he’d been looking at with different designs.
“Doesn’t look too complicated,” Tommy said while he scrolled.
They decided to surprise Buck with the catio. They got Maddie in on it and she invited Buck to spend the day with her and the kids - going to the zoo then spending some time back at her house after.
When Buck came home, equally exhausted and energized after a day with his niblings, Tommy and Eddie brought him outside and showed him their work.
He was so excited.
They put the cats in and, as was typical, Casey was a little unsure. April ventured around, jumped up on the little landing spots and perches. Then once she’d done the full inspection, Casey checked it out too.
They all stayed outside, watching the cats until the sun started to set and they moved the cats back inside.
Buck, Eddie, and Tommy got cozy on the couch to watch a few episodes of British Bake-Off before bed. April hopped up onto Buck’s lap and curled up while Casey lay on Tommy’s thigh, his head on Eddie’s thigh, which was right up against Tommy’s.
