Things have been rough for Eddie since Shannon passed, to say the least. He’s been an emotional wreck since that evening in the hospital, hasn’t been able to get through a single day without bursting into tears. Shannon was by no means the love of his life, but she was the mother of his child, and he thinks that’s just as important. At least it was just as important. It’s weird to think about, but Shannon is past tense now. Every time he thinks about that, he breaks down all over again.
Being so emotional means that he hasn’t been able to parent to the best of his abilities. So Buck, God bless his heart, has moved into their place and found a place on his couch so he can try and keep everything running smoothly in the Diaz house. Perhaps if Eddie were more coherent, he’d be able to express to Buck just how grateful he is that he’s been helping out, but every time he tries to get the words out, the emotions get to be just a little too much for him to handle.
Some nights have been harder than others, though. Eddie can get through most nights without breaking down completely, but some nights, even that is too much to ask for. Tonight is one of the nights where he can’t quite keep it together.
Buck’s put on some random feel-good television show for them to watch long after Christopher’s gone to bed. Eddie can’t for the life of him remember what it’s called, all he remembers is that it showcases different baby animals, and it’s just enough to make Eddie not feel so sad. As usual, it seems, Buck’s stretched out comfortably like he owns the place (and he does just about own the place—or at least the couch. It has become his bed after all) and Eddie’s curled in on himself, picking at the seam of his sweatpants and trying his best to focus on what’s on the TV. Suddenly, a painful thought occurs to him—Shannon would’ve loved a show like this. He forgets she’s gone for half a moment, deciding he’ll have to show it to her next time she comes over, which only makes the realization that he’ll never get to show her things anymore ache that much more. His lower lip wobbles a little and before he realizes it, a hiccuping sob is escaping him. He drops his head as the tears start loudly coming out of him.
“Eds—?” Buck says, and Eddie can vaguely feel the couch shifting a bit next to him before suddenly, there are a pair of warm, strong arms around him. He lets himself sink into them as his sobs only get more violent. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Buck’s hand comes up to gently run through his hair, and just that simple action has him breaking even more.
“I can’t do this,” Eddie manages to stutter through his tears. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this.”
“Hey, yes you can, Eds,” Buck murmurs. Eddie distantly notices Buck pressing a firm kiss to the side of his head, and somehow, that little bit of contact helps him feel a little more grounded to Earth. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I promise, you’re gonna be okay.” Buck manhandles him a little, pulls Eddie into his lap to get his arms around him more comfortably. He squeezes Eddie so tightly that it kind of hurts, but it helps Eddie not feel so alone. “I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t know that!” Eddie suddenly shouts, pulling his head away from where it had been resting against Buck’s chest. “You don’t know that! Shannon— she said she wasn’t going anywhere, that she was gonna stick around for Chris, but then look what happened? She’s gone! She’s gone, and I feel like I’m never gonna be okay again!”
Buck frowns, giving him a sympathetic look. That’s the thing about Buck, Eddie notices—he never sends him the pitying looks that he expects. Everyone else looks at him like they pity him, the poor little widow who’s trying so desperately to keep it together for his motherless son. But Buck? He looks at Eddie like he understands exactly what he’s going through. And Eddie guesses he does, in a way. From what he understands, it seems like Abby kind of died on Buck when he needed her. It’s not the same situation by any means, but Buck certainly understands how he feels more than most people in his life. Buck’s hands drift up to gently yet firmly frame his face, thumbs wiping away all the tears that are falling down his cheeks. “Eddie. I need you to listen to me for a second. Can you do that for me?” Eddie shakily nods in response. “Do you think Shannon would have wanted this to happen? Be honest with me. Do you think she would want you to be going through this right now?”
“N- no.”
“Exactly. If it were up to her, you wouldn’t even be feeling this way right now. But it wasn’t up to her, huh? I- I learned a long time ago that, um, sometimes, you might want one thing, but the universe wants the other. And the universe almost always takes what it wants before considering what you want. And yeah, it fucking sucks, and it hurts and aches and it’s just the worst, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it. Except,” Buck pauses, pressing down on Eddie’s face a little firmer to ground him some more. “Except show the universe that we don’t give a shit what it wants. It wants for you to be hurting forever. That’s what it wanted when it decided that Shannon was gonna get hit. But you can’t let it fucking win, got it? You can be sad now, okay? You can be sad and in mass amounts of pain right now. But you’re gonna get through this. Someday, not today, probably not tomorrow, but someday, you’ll be okay again. Someday, you’ll be able to get through the day without breaking down. And I know that feels so far off right now, but it’s going to happen. And you know how I know it’s gonna happen? ‘Cause I’m right here with you, Eds. I’ve got your back, remember? And as long as I have a say, I’m not going anywhere. As long as I have a say, I’m gonna be right here beside you, helping you learn how to live again. As long as you want me that is. Okay?”
After a long moment, Eddie murmurs, “Okay,” hiccuping as Buck pulls his face close to his chest. Eddie buries his face into where Buck’s shoulder and neck meet, focusing on the feeling of one of Buck’s hands running up and down his back and the other running through his hair repeatedly. When he feels Buck tilt his head down to press a firm kiss to the top of his head, Eddie realizes that, no matter how long it takes for him to recover, he’s going to be just fine, because Buck is going to be right there with him. No matter what. He’s not going to be okay today, nor is he going to be okay tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that, but someday. Someday he’ll be okay again, and Buck will be right there by his side. Eddie lets himself breathe out with the knowledge that he really doesn’t have to be doing this alone.
