Since we’re all doing 5x09 codas, and I’ve been emotional about Buck never reaching the “I love you” phase of a relationship since season 1…
This got wildly out of control though. So here’s Part 1.
“Actually I…kind of love you for it,” Taylor says.
Buck smiles, relief washing over him like warm water — or warm chocolate, he’s unfortunate enough to know — that Taylor isn’t upset with him. He knows that sometimes (often) he can push too hard.
The wave crashes (or if you’re not mixing metaphors — analogies, whatever — he slips into the vat).
His hand freezes on the cutting board.
He turns.
“What…” He says, staring at Taylor, watching her fight back a smile, her cheeks pink.
“I love you,” she says. She’s like, radiating. Practically glowing with joy. Buck hasn’t ever seen her this happy, except for when she cracks a case.
Oh. That’s…that’s what this is, isn’t it. This is like…this is like Taylor’s case. This is like her truth. Can Taylor Kelly fall in love? Find out at 11.
And the fact that the answer is yes, she can, and the person she’s fallen in love with is Buck? After her turning him down, and shutting him out, and almost running away, just like Abby and Ali had? It’s completely…it’s unbelievable. Buck is in fucking shock.
His mind drawing a big fat blank, Buck opens his mouth. “Good,” comes out of it.
What? Who says that?
He tries again. “I love you too,” he says.
He didn’t think it would be so hard to say it. But maybe after everything, maybe after having those words on the tip of his tongue for so long, and being burned every time, maybe it makes sense that it’s hard. Maybe it’s reasonable that he’s a little hesitant with his heart.
And he’s proud of himself, for being here in this moment, quietly chopping a cucumber while Taylor prunes green beans, flashing him a smile every time their eyes meet. Because he’d talked to her, and he hadn’t messed anything up, and she loves him.
And when she kisses him, after their plates are clean and they’ve polished off just half a bottle of wine, Buck thinks about Red and of letting things slip through your fingers. He remembers the ache in his chest after seeing Abby again, after months and months apart, and hearing her tell him that she’s engaged. It’s an ache that’s never entirely gone away, a wound reopened when Ali told him she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stand by him.
He kisses Taylor and wonders if she can stitch him back together, press her hands over his heart and convince his body to heal. He kisses her and he holds her tight, remembering how loneliness felt a lot like fading away, like dying. She pulls back and kisses beneath his ear. Her thumb brushes over his birthmark.
And there’s something that feels like panic tearing at his chest. Like knife-sharp claws ripping at the hole around his heart, trying to climb out of him, and Buck just kisses Taylor harder.
They’re in love and he’s not alone and she didn’t leave.
So what is he afraid of?
Buck wakes up in the middle of the night with the memory of rough hands, of lips on his thigh. Taylor is curled on her side, turned away from him, and Buck is so hard he could cut steel, he thinks.
He gets up to splash some water on his face and hopefully encourage his dick to calm down, but the rub of his boxers brings up a flash, the feeling of stubble between his legs, and Buck stumbles into the bathroom and cums into the sink with a hand on his cock, picturing thick arms wrapped around him, a low voice holding him steady.
He washes his hands, sending the evidence down the drain. He wishes he could wash his mind out just as easily. It’s not the first time he’s dreamed of Eddie, and it’s always made him feel a little guilty, reminding him so much of his Buck 1.0 days. But it’s never felt so wrong. He’s in love with Taylor, in bed next to Taylor, and he’s dreaming about his best friend?
Maybe that sex addiction wasn’t as self-diagnosed as Bobby thought. Maybe Buck has a real problem. He hadn’t minded as much what his subconscious got up to when he was with Abby and Ali, but they’d never gotten this far. It’s not like Buck thinks being with Taylor means he doesn’t have eyes or won’t experience attraction to other people, but…but right now? Tonight? Seriously?
Buck goes back to bed and stays up another three hours researching sex dreams, and determinedly not thinking about if his actually means something.
Healthline says it’s more important to focus on what the dream symbolizes, rather than the literal content of it, anyway.
He has a hard time falling back asleep.
They’re standing in front of the elevator and Eddie looks like he might throw up. Buck grabs him by the arm and pulls him back, forces him to look away from the dark tunnel, plummeting down, down, down.
“Hey,” Buck says, ducking to catch Eddie’s eyes, “you don’t have to go down there. It’s alright. The probie should do it anyway. It’s good experience, and he’s lighter than you, anyway.”
“And you can’t do it, why?” Ravi asks Buck, leaning over the ledge and grimacing.
“We can stay right here,” Buck says, keeping his eyes on Eddie. Eddie, who is staring at him with wide eyes and pinprick pupils, like a deer in headlights.
It’s fine. The elevator isn’t even flooded. The woman is stuck on top and they’ve shut off power to this shaft, so no one can press a button and squish her by requesting the lift from a higher floor. She’s a little nervous, but not injured. All they need to do is harness up and rappel down to get her. It’s an easy save, honestly, and Buck lets his team work the winch and send Ravi in while he holds Eddie by the shoulders and gets him to breathe.
Ravi calls up to them, something Buck doesn’t hear, and Eddie shakes himself.
“I’m fine,” he says, pulling away from Buck. “Sorry, I was out of it for a minute. But I’m OK.”
Buck bites his lip.
“OK,” he says. “OK then.” Instead of, it’s OK to panic, Eddie. It’s OK to be scared of this.
Eddie clenches his jaw, looking at Buck with something close to anger in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says, tersely.
Buck offers him a smile. Says, “anytime.” And he means it. He means it more than Eddie will ever know.
Buck’s noticing that this is becoming a pattern. Maddie left. Then Chim. Then Taylor tried to sneak out of town. But it all started with Eddie trying to hide his panic attacks.
Buck doesn’t understand why the people he loves won’t let him help.
Before they climb back in the truck, Bobby grabs Buck’s shoulder.
“I saw what you did back there,” he says. “Is he alright?”
“Who, Eddie?” Bucks asks. He can’t help feeling nervous, because he trusts Bobby, but he doesn’t want to jeopardize Eddie’s job. His position on the team. “Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s fine.”
“Buck, I’m not asking as his boss. I’m asking as his friend.”
“He…he says he’s fine,” Buck admits. Everything else is speculation, isn’t it? Because Eddie is being stubbornly secretive about this.
Bobby looks at him, like maybe he can read the thoughts in Buck’s head if he tries hard enough.
“I appreciate you looking out for him. It’s a good thing you have each other’s backs.” He claps Buck on the shoulder, signaling an end to the conversation. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t transfer?”
Buck chokes. “Cap!” He splutters, his cheeks burning. Bobby flashes him a crooked smile before swinging into the front seat of the truck.
Buck climbs into the back, still flushed, which of course Ravi doesn’t fail to comment on.
“What’d Cap do now?” He asks, a grin spreading over his face.
“Stuff it, probie,” Buck ribs back, aiming a halfhearted kick at Ravi’s ankles. He’s relieved that Ravi takes it as the joke he meant it as, because Buck knows he gave the kid a hard time. And Bobby’s right. Buck is glad he’s still here, with this family, one that is rapidly pulling Ravi into its orbit. Nothing is the same without Chim, but Buck’s been a little more aware of how lucky he got with the 118. He came in hot-headed and cocky, and he made a lot of mistakes — but they’ve always been there to catch him.
Buck glances over at Eddie, on his right. He’s staring out the window, eyebrows drawn low. He’s got his hands clenched into fists over his knees.
Just a few days ago, in this exact same truck, Eddie had been laughing and teasing Buck about his lady issues. He’d seemed like his old self again. And Buck misses that. Not just Eddie’s laugh, and their easy camaraderie, but the feeling that he knew Eddie. That he could read him with one look.
It hasn’t felt like that lately.
And Buck thinks he gets it, because he still wakes up sometimes with shaking hands and the taste of blood in his mouth. It’s not like he expects Eddie to be normal after what happened. But Buck kind of wishes they could be not normal together. He doesn’t know what he did to make Eddie not trust him with this.
Bobby’s voice echoes in his head: you don’t talk to the women you’re dating. You don’t know what to do when something goes wrong. Talk to her. Tell her how you’re feeling.
He’s doing it again, isn’t he? Assuming everything without actually asking.
And Bobby’s advice had worked with Taylor, right?
When they’re out of the truck, their turnout gear hung back in place, Buck corners Eddie by the supply closet.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you. But I know you’re…you’re not in a great place, Eds. I know that.”
Eddie glares at him, opening his mouth to spew some more bullshit about how he’s totally 100%, A-OK, nothing to worry about.
“I know you. Don’t — don’t treat me like I’m some kind of outsider, OK? Because you’re my best friend, and I thought that meant we had each other’s backs.”
“We do,” Eddie says, looking pained. Buck’s chest is tight, but not in a bad way. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it kind of seems like Eddie hadn’t thought about how this was affecting Buck.
“Good. Because I do have your back, and I know you have mine. And you don’t have to tell me everything, but just…if you’re ever not OK, tell me. So that…maybe, I can help?”
Eddie just looks at him. Buck meets his eyes, hoping Eddie can sense how sincere he is. “I want you to trust me,” he adds. And he doesn’t try to hide the hurt in his voice, or fight the tears that sting his eyes, or stop the hand that reaches out and grabs Eddie by the wrist.
Eddie lowers his head. “I do trust you,” he says quietly.
“So talk to me,” Buck says, gentle.
Eddie doesn’t look up at him, but he slips his wrist out of Buck’s hold to take Buck’s hand in his. It sets Buck’s heart racing, intimate in a way he hadn’t expected and doesn’t know what to do with.
“Alright,” Eddie says. And he squeezes Buck’s hand.
Taylor is helping Buck string tinsel on the stair railing up to his bedroom when she says, “So I know we haven’t talked about it, and it’s fine if it doesn’t work out, but I was wondering if you’d like to have Christmas with me and my Aunt’s family.”
Buck, who had been humming Jingle Bells absentmindedly and wondering if he should be getting a tree this year, looks up at her. “Really?” He asks, cautious, unsure how to navigate the situation. Because he…well, he can’t do that.
“Yeah. They’d all love to meet you. My youngest cousin is around Chris’s age, actually. I bet you’ll get along with him like a house on fire.” She smiles at him, warm and open, all of her sharp edges tucked away. She doesn’t need that armor around him anymore. Buck likes that. He likes that she can really be herself with him. She doesn’t have to be Taylor Kelly, the Reporter.
He wants to be equally honest with her. “Maybe we can do something on Christmas Eve?” Buck asks, twisting the tinsel in his hands. “It’s just that Christmas is…”
Taylor ducks her head, expelling a little sigh. When she looks back at him, she’s still smiling. She looks unsurprised, and she looks fond — she looks at him like she sees something worth waiting for.
“For the Diazes, right?”
“It’s just….it’s been a really difficult year.” He looks down at his hands, surprised to find that he’s wrapped his palm around and around and around. “I think I should be there with them.”
“It’s alright, Buck,” Taylor says, reaching out to unwind the tinsel from his hand. “It was short notice. I’ll see about Christmas Eve.” She frees him from the glittery green thread, wraps it around the last post, and bends over to kiss him on the cheek.
The problem is, Eddie’s been kind of weird about it. He keeps saying that Buck doesn’t have to come over if he has plans with Taylor, that they’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. It got to the point where Buck stopped arguing with him and just tiredly agreed. Yeah, if something more important comes up, I won’t feel obligated to celebrate Christmas with you guys. Yeah, if I need to, I’ll just drop off Chris’s present a few days before. Yeah, I know I don’t have to get Chris anything.
Even after their whole heart to heart the other day, Eddie doesn’t seem to understand that Buck wants to be there for him. And his son. It’s weird and frustrating, because Eddie had given Buck a legal responsibility for Chris in his fucking will, and now he’s acting like Buck shouldn’t feel…what, burdened?
Buck looks at the empty spot by the TV, where he put his tree last year.
It’s like Eddie thinks that Buck doesn’t know what Christmas means to the Diazes. Like Buck wasn’t there for that first Christmas, when Eddie gave Chris his mom back. Like Buck hadn’t helped organize the next Christmas, with every family from the 118 crammed into the firehouse.
It’s like Eddie doesn’t realize what Christmas means to Buck. Like he doesn’t understand that Buck wants to spend it with his family.
Buck doesn’t get a Christmas tree.
On Christmas Eve, he shows up for dinner at Taylor’s aunt’s house with some hastily purchased gifts and a bottle of wine. Her aunt is tall, blonde, and sweet enough to give anyone in hearing distance cavities. She’s kind and patient and even though she can’t cook to save her life, she gives her husband a kiss or a caress every time she passes him by while she sets the table and he preps dinner.
Buck’s glad that Taylor got a few years of this. That she didn’t have to be alone after what happened with her parents.
Her youngest cousin is adorably chubby, with fire-engine red hair and freckles. Buck lets him win at Mario Kart and tells him PG-13 friendly stories about work.
It’s…nice.
[Part Two][Part Three]
