Archive of Our Own ^beta

Consciousness finds Eddie incrementally. The first time he’s only aware of the sound of voices, although they’re distorted and far away, the second time he wakes his eyes burn with searing pain when he blinks them open to unbearable brightness, the third time he gains awareness his head is pounding so hard that he feels like he’s going to be sick and what feels like a hundred voices are chorusing questions he can't comprehend at him. 

The fourth time is better. Eddie feels great, well rested and pain free. His limbs are comfortably heavy with sleep and his thoughts are a little sluggish, but nothing hurts. Despite the tiredness weighing down his body, Eddie feels strangely light, happy even. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Eddie racks his brain but finds he can’t remember much of anything, his mind is just a low grade buzz of tv static. It’s almost comforting, not having to think about anything. 

Slowly, Eddie opens his eyes. It takes a few moments for his pupils to adjust and the room to come into focus. He’s in a hospital, that much is clear right away, though Eddie isn’t sure where the hospital might be or how he ended up here. At first glance, nothing seems to be broken or dramatically out of place, but Eddie quickly loses interest in examining himself for injuries, distracted by the two people sitting at his bedside. 

In the chair closest to Eddie sits a boy with curly hair and square-framed glasses. Beside him is a man with the same curly hair and broad shoulders. Eddie’s eyes trace over them a few times, taking in their features. He knows them, he’s sure of that, it’s just that he can’t quite place how he knows them. He doesn’t remember their names, although their relation to Eddie, at least on closer inspection, is fairly clear. 

Eddie knows that the boy is his son, he isn’t sure how he knows it, he just does; like the truth of that fact is stitched into the very fabric of his being. From the way they’re leaning together, the man’s arm around the boy’s shoulder, their heads close together as they speak quietly, Eddie has no doubt that the man is his son’s other parent. Eddie’s eyes catch on the thick, black rubber band adorning the ring finger on his left hand. Ah, so that’s Eddie’s husband. 

With a small sigh, Eddie shifts back against his pillow. Two pairs of blue eyes snap to him. 

“He’s awake again,” the boy whispers, nudging the other man - his other dad - Eddie’s husband’s side. 

“Hey, you gonna stay with us this time?” Eddie’s husband asks, slowly standing from his chair and approaching, like he’s afraid Eddie might spook like a nervous animal. 

Eddie blinks a few times. Surely his vision has slipped out of focus again and he isn’t seeing properly, because there’s no way that this breathtakingly gorgeous man is married to him . He has startlingly blue eyes, bright and clear despite the circles of exhaustion beneath them. There’s a pink heart-shaped birthmark that spans across his left eyebrow; it’s cute. His entire face is cute. Eddie is utterly mesmerized. 

“Hi,” Eddie replies, still staring in awe at the beautiful man before him. 

“Hi,” his husband repeats, offering Eddie a soft smile as he reaches out to lay a steadying hand on Eddie’s arm. “Now, don’t freak out, okay? But you got into an accident at work and you can’t remember some stuff right now,” he explains, voice low and calm, like he’s rehearsed this. 

Eddie nods, unable to pull his attention away from how impossibly blue the irises he’s gazing into are. Is it possible to go swimming in someone’s eyes? Eddie thinks he might like to try. He thinks he might like to try anything that involves this man and less clothes. Maybe they’ll go swimming together sometime. 

“Did you hear me?” his husband prompts gently. 

“Yes.” Eddie nods again, but he’s still thinking about swimming. His thoughts sort of feel like they’re swimming, round and round like a school of fish - herring maybe. Herring travel in schools. Eddie isn’t sure why he knows that. He thinks someone might have told him that once. He thinks that there’s someone in his life that likes to tell him animal fun facts, but he isn’t sure who. His eyes dart to the boy in the chair. Maybe it’s his son that tells them to him. 

“So it’s okay if you don’t know stuff, you just go ahead and ask anything you want to know.” He sits down again, and Eddie feels oddly betrayed that he didn’t sit down on the edge of the bed with him. That seems like the sort of place his husband belongs. 

“We’ll tell you,” his son insists, watching Eddie with palpable hope in his eyes. Eddie wonders how they both seem so calm about this, so prepared for the possibility that he doesn’t know them. It feels unfair. He does know them, he knows he does, even if he can’t remember right now. 

"I know who you are.” Eddie looks between them, hoping that they can tell he’s telling the truth. “I'm just not sure what your names are, I'm sorry," he apologizes, feeling especially guilty as he watches his son's face fall. Some father he is. 

"That's alright," his husband with the beautiful blue eyes reassures him kindly. "Do you remember your name?"

Eddie considers that - at least, he thinks he's Eddie. 

"I'm Eddie?" he tries. It's more of a question than an answer. 

"Good." His husband nods encouragingly, and his eyes appear even more electrically blue somehow. 

"You said you remember who we are?" he prompts gently. 

Eddie nods. "Yes." He fixes his eyes on the boy in the chair next to him whose face Eddie knows he’s had memorized for years. "You are my son," he says confidently. 

"Yeah," he breathes a sigh of relief, reaching out to take Eddie's hand. Eddie squeezes it back. "Chris - Christopher."

"Christopher," Eddie echoes. Yes, that sounds right. He smiles. "Hi Chris." 

"Hi, Dad." Chris smiles back, looking a little more at ease now. "You really scared us."

"I'm really sorry," Eddie says sincerely. "I didn't mean to." He isn't sure how he ended up in this state, but he's fairly certain it wasn't intentional. 

"And you." He turns his attention to Christopher's other parent - his husband - his gorgeous, massive, muscly, blue-eyed husband. "You're -"

"I'm Buck."

"Buck," Eddie tests the name out. Buck . He likes that name. It sounds good, warm and safe and comfortingly familiar on his tongue. "You're my husband." 

Buck's eyes widen, obviously surprised that Eddie remembers that. See? He's recovering remarkably quickly. He'll have his full memory back in no time. 

"Your husband," Buck repeats, and Chris, for some reason, starts giggling. 

"My husband," Eddie agrees happily. 

It takes a lot of strength to reach his free hand, the one that Christopher isn't holding in a vice grip, across the bed and offer it to Buck. Buck takes his hand and squeezes it, looking a little stunned. 

"Can I have some Jell-O?" Eddie asks, because he remembers that there's usually Jell-O in hospitals, and his throat feels kind of sore. 

"Yeah, sure." Buck lets go of his hand and stands up. Eddie kind of wishes he hadn't asked. "I'll go get the nurse. You'd better get checked out now that you're up."

"Okay," Eddie agrees dutifully. "I think I like green." 

"What?" Buck pauses. 

"The Jell-O," Eddie clarifies. "I think that's the flavour I like." 

"Green Jell-O, got it." Buck gives a little, slightly awkward two-fingered salute before leaving the room. Eddie's eyes linger on the doorway for a few seconds too long before he turns back to Christopher. 

"I like him," he tells his son emphatically. 

"Yeah, Dad," Chris replies patiently. "I know." 

"Right." Of course Chris knows that. "Sorry, it seems like I'm missing a lot."

"That's okay," Chris assures him. "The doctors were kinda preparing us for something way worse, so this is ... better."

"Oh." Eddie frowns. 

Before he can ask anything more, a nurse comes bustling into the room to check his vitals and take notes down on a chart after reading the various screens he's hooked up to. 

"I'm glad to see you so lucid, Mr. Diaz," she tells him. 

"Diaz?" Eddie asks curiously. "Is that my last name?" 

The nurse pauses and glances down at his chart. 

"That's what it says here," she confirms. "Unless maybe you hyphenated with your husband?”

"Nope," Buck says, reappearing in the doorway, three cups of green Jell-O stacked in one of his large hands. Buck is just very big, Eddie can't help but notice. It's sort of hot. 

"It's just Diaz," Buck reiterates, taking his seat beside Eddie once more and passing a cup of Jell-O to him and then one to Chris. "Edmundo Diaz."

Eddie wrinkles his nose and that makes Chris laugh again. He hopes he makes his kid laugh this much normally. 

"I think I'll stick with Eddie," Eddie says, and Buck and Chris wear matching looks of amusement. It's adorable how similar they are, even their mannerisms. 

"What's your last name?" he asks Buck curiously. 

"Buckley." 

Eddie cocks his head to one side. "Buck Buckley?" He furrows his eyebrows. Surely Buck's parents couldn't have thought that was a good idea?

"No," Buck laughs and shakes his head. "Buck is my nickname, it comes from my last name. My government first name is Evan, but no one really calls me that." 

"Okay." Eddie shrugs, taking this new information in stride. "Makes sense to me. Glad you're here, Buck." 

Buck smiles at him with what can only be described as overwhelming fondness, and he reaches across to open Eddie's Jell-O cup for him. 

By the time they're finished with their Jell-O, a doctor in a white coat appears, conferring with the nurse who had been writing things down on Eddie's chart. 

"Eddie, I'm Dr. Jones. It's good to see you up. How are you feeling?" she asks, coming around the side of the bed and untangling the stethoscope from around her neck. 

"Good," Eddie answers honestly. "I'm feeling really great." Which, he realizes, is probably weird, isn't it? He's in the hospital after all.

"That's probably the morphine." Dr. Jones huffs a small laugh. "You're pretty hopped up on it right now."

"Am I?" Eddie asks curiously. "I don't think I've ever done drugs before, but I don't remember, let me ask my husband." Dr. Jones’ lips twitch as he turns to face Buck. "Buck, have I done drugs before?" 

Buck stares back at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. "No." He shakes his head slowly. "Not exactly. There was that one time with the LSD, but generally no, you don't do drugs, Eddie.” 

Eddie frowns. "Why do you call me Eddie?" he asks abruptly, because it's odd now that he thinks of it. 

"Why do I call you ... That's your name. What else would I call you?" Buck asks in confusion. 

"I don't know." Eddie shrugs. "Baby or honey or something cute." He can't keep a little bit of disappointment out of his voice.  

Buck raises his eyebrows. "Baby or honey?" he asks incredulously. 

Chris has a hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to disguise just how hard he's laughing. 

Eddie's frown deepens. "What's so funny about that?" he asks defensively.

"Maybe you should call Dad ‘baby’," Chris teases, nudging Buck's arm. 

"Wh - no! I'm not gonna do that," Buck protests loudly, his cheeks flushing.

"But he wants you to!" Chris insists, tossing Eddie a sly, conspiratorial look. 

Well, at least he's on Eddie's side, even if he finds this whole thing hilarious for some reason. 

Buck shakes his head adamantly. "Let's just stick to Eddie." 

"Alright, Mr. Diaz," Dr. Jones cuts in smoothly. "Everything is looking good. I'm going to run a few more tests, but you should be able to go home by the end of the day."

"Oh good," Eddie breathes, feeling relieved. He isn't sure how long he's been in the hospital, and he doesn't even remember where their house is, but he does know he wants to go there. Any place with Buck and Chris must be a good home. 

"I'll leave you to get reacquainted," she says, flashing them an amused, indulgent smile. "Let the nurses know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Eddie and Buck say in unison, like their brainwaves are perfectly in sync. They catch each other's eye, and Eddie feels a grin spreading across his face to mirror Buck's. 

The afternoon passes fairly quickly. After Dr. Jones leaves, Eddie takes a nap, lulled to sleep by Buck and Christopher's voices as they talk quietly beside him. It's nice, he thinks, to see their son so open and at ease even during what must be an incredibly stressful time for him. Buck must be a really great parent to help him relax so much. It's with that reassuring thought that Eddie is able to peacefully drift off. 

Dr. Jones is back when Eddie wakes up. 

"Hi," he says, blinking at her blearily. "I think I fell asleep again." 

"That's alright." She smiles kindly at him. "You need all the rest you can get right now. I've talked to your husband." She motions to Buck. "He's got the full run down and all your recovery instructions, so all you have to worry about is getting better, alright?" 

"Okay." Eddie nods. He isn't sure why he's still so tired. 

"You need to take it easy," Dr. Jones continues firmly. "I know you can't feel that you're in pain right now because of the medication we've got you on, but you suffered a traumatic injury and you have some pretty severe whiplash. I want you to keep your neck as still as possible and get lots of rest - more than you think you need. Understood?" 

"Understood," Eddie says meekly. Despite the fact that he isn't in pain, he does feel exceptionally weak and tired. And even though his brain is swirling and pleasantly fuzzy from a mix of medication and exhaustion, he knows that he really should be worried about just how much of his life he seems to have forgotten. 

As if sensing his discomfort, Buck cuts in. "Can you walk us through what we can expect with his memory?"

"Of course." Dr. Jones nods. "I'll be honest with you, Eddie, head injuries are hard to predict. Your scans are looking good and all of your blood levels are normal. My hope is that your confusion and brain fog will start to clear in the next couple of days and your memories might start returning as soon as the next week." 

Eddie nods, remembers he's not supposed to move his neck, and says "alright" instead. 

"But like I said, it's hard to give a timeline for these things. Memories can be fickle," she explains gently. "I'm going to see you again in a week and we can reassess where you're at then, how does that sound?" 

"Good," Eddie answers, because he isn't sure what else to say. He doesn't really have any other option, and honestly, it really doesn't feel that bad. He doesn't think anything could feel too dire with Christopher and Buck by his side. Everything else will come in time and, until then, at least he has his family. 

Getting out of bed proves more difficult than Eddie anticipated. His legs feel like jelly, and he wobbles precariously once he manages to stand. In an instant, Buck is at his side, sliding one arm around Eddie's waist and steadying him. 

"I've got you," Buck assures him quietly, and Eddie effortlessly relaxes into Buck's strong grasp. 

Chris is watching Eddie a little apprehensively from his spot in the chair beside the bed. 

"Chris, bud," Eddie starts gently. "Why don't you go wait outside while Buck helps me get dressed and then we can all go down to the car together, okay?" 

"Okay," Chris agrees reluctantly. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" 

"Of course," Eddie assures him with a smile. "Besides, Buck's got me." 

"Yeah," Buck agrees. "Your dad is safe with me." 

That seems to ease Christopher's concern a little and he agrees to wait in the hall. 

As soon as Chris has left the room, Eddie asks, "How the hell did we do that?"

"Do what?" Buck frowns. 

"Did I..." Eddie drops his voice, "get you pregnant?"

"What?" Buck chokes, going brilliantly scarlet. 

"I just mean, that kid looks so much like both of us, how did we manage it? We must have defied biology."

Buck blinks at him several times before shaking his head in bewilderment, at a complete loss for words. 

Eddie doesn't think his question is that far-fetched, it makes perfect logical sense to him, but then again he doesn't really know who he is and his head sort of feels like it's full of bees. 

To Eddie's disappointment, Buck helps him get dressed very respectfully. And Eddie can appreciate that this isn't the time or place, but he sort of wishes Buck would at least look at him a little. They're married aren't they? Isn't he supposed to be attracted to Eddie? A lingering gaze or two wouldn't go amiss. 

"Arms up," Buck instructs, in a sort of clinically professional tone that Eddie doesn't much care for. 

"Wow," Eddie remarks flatly. "Don't sound so excited about getting me naked." 

"I - what?" Buck splutters, the blush on his cheeks returning in full force. "Eddie, you're injured!" Buck protests. "I'm not gonna, like, feel you up." 

"I know," Eddie sighs. "But you could at least seem like you wanted to," he points out reasonably. 

"You're insane," Buck mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. "Please let me get your shirt on." 

"Fine," Eddie agrees reluctantly, lifting his arms obligingly but pouting the whole time. 

"Alright, you ready to go?" Buck asks, eyes scanning over the hospital room to make sure nothing has been left behind. 

"I'm good," Eddie says, fumbling with the strap of his watch. "But I can't get this on." 

"Here, let me help." One of Buck's hands wraps around Eddie's wrist while the other covers his fingers. "I've got it." 

Eddie watches in silent amazement as Buck secures the strap of his watch with quick, deft motions. He isn't sure why it makes his breath catch or why it feels so intimate. Surely Eddie is used to sharing much more intimate touches than this with Buck. But something about their closeness feels so charged. It must be because it's been days since they've shared any physical affection, Eddie reasons. 

"Buck?" Eddie asks quietly, when his watch is in place but Buck hasn't yet stepped away. 

"Yeah?" Buck looks up, clear blue eyes searching Eddie's. 

"I -" Eddie swallows. This shouldn't be awkward. It shouldn't feel like he's asking for something he isn't allowed to have. Still, it feels too daunting to speak his request aloud so Eddie wordlessly holds out his other arm. 

When Buck doesn't make a move, frozen in place, watching him with wide eyes, Eddie carefully sets his hand on Buck's shoulder and tilts his head fractionally to the left. 

Why does Buck look so surprised? Haven't they kissed countless times? Eddie is sure that he must kiss Buck multiple times a day. Who wouldn't if they had the privilege of being married to Buck? 

Eddie closes his eyes and leans forward. Nothing happens. His lips do not meet the undoubtedly soft warmth of Buck's, their noses don't bump, their chests don't press together. Eddie opens his eyes in bewilderment but he doesn't even have the chance to make questioning eye contact with Buck before he's being pulled into a tight hug. And, okay, this is nice too, Eddie supposes, but he still would have liked the kiss. 

It only takes a couple of seconds for Eddie to melt into the hug, his arms wrapping around the wide expanse of Buck's back, his chin resting against Buck's shoulder. It's nice hugging Buck, being held in his big, strong arms. Eddie doesn't remember ever feeling so secure or content. Then again, he doesn't remember most things. 

Eddie closes his eyes again and nuzzles into Buck’s neck, sinking into the physical contact and letting himself relax in Buck's warm embrace. It lasts longer than Eddie is sure of. He doesn't care, he doesn't want it to end any time soon, but he does notice the way Buck's muscles are beginning to tense the longer they stay intertwined. 

"Okay," Buck clears his throat, patting Eddie gently on the back, mindful of his injuries. "Let's - uh, Chris is waiting." 

"Oh! Right." Eddie lets go, face feeling a little warm. "We'd better go home." 

"Yup." Buck nods once, motioning towards the door. Eddie wonders why Buck is acting so formal. Surely it isn't always like this between them. Buck looks at him with so much fondness, so much unrestrained love that Eddie could see it the moment he opened his eyes, and yet his actions don't reflect that same ease. 

Eddie doesn't have time to reflect on it further, because the moment the door opens, Chris barrels into him. 

"Woah, careful there, bud," Buck reminds him, but Eddie catches Buck's eye and shakes his head, mouthing 'it's okay' over their son's head. He leans down and catches Chris in his arms, manoeuvring around his crutches to hold him close, like hugging his son is just instinctual. Eddie thinks it probably is. 

"I love you, Dad," Chris mumbles into the front of Eddie's shirt, clinging to him. 

"I love you too." Eddie bends down to press a kiss into Christopher's curls, instructions not to move his neck be damned. Eddie would endure a lot more than a little bit of pain to be able to hold his son like this. 

Apparently Buck doesn't share that sentiment. "Eddie, careful of your neck," he warns. 

Chris relinquishes his hold on Eddie and steps back. "You'd better listen," he says seriously. "You know how Buck gets when one of us is sick." 

Eddie just smiles back in blissful ignorance. 

"Or." Chris frowns. "I guess you don't know, but it's intense ," he informs Eddie dramatically. 

"Thanks," Eddie whispers. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind.” 

"I'm literally standing right here," Buck reminds them, sounding nonplussed. Eddie and Chris turn matching innocent looks on him. 

"We weren't even saying anything," Chris defends admirably. 

"Mmhmm." Buck narrows his eyes. "Let's get to the car please." 

Eddie isn't really sure if Buck's no-nonsense tone is meant more for Christopher or himself, but they both listen, making their way to the elevators. 

On their way through the hospital, Eddie still needs Buck's support, although his legs are already feeling less unstable than when he first got up. He slips his arm through Buck's and holds onto his forearm for extra support and that seems to be enough. He's perfectly fine until they get to the parking lot and his foot catches on a loose piece of gravel and he nearly topples over. 

"Eddie!" Buck shouts in alarm, reaching out to grab him before he can fall. "Why the fuck didn't they give us a wheelchair to get you to the car," Buck mutters in irritation as he holds Eddie up, Christopher looking on with wide, concerned eyes. 

"Come on," Buck says, arm circling around Eddie's waist. 

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks breathlessly as Buck literally sweeps him off his feet. He picks Eddie up clean off the ground and into a bridal carry like he weighs nothing. 

"I - How did you do that?" Eddie stares up at his husband in surprise. 

Buck shrugs. "Easy.”

"Do you carry me a lot?" Eddie asks, interested. Buck arches an eyebrow. 

"Would you like the answer to be yes?" he teases, and Eddie can feel himself blushing. 

"Ugh, you guys are so embarrassing," Chris groans. "I miss when you weren't married." 

Eddie furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "What does that mean?" 

Buck and Chris exchange a look that Eddie can't quite understand. 

"Nothing," Chris amends quickly. "I love my two gay dads who are gay and gross and married and gay." 

"Okay, that's enough." Buck shoots Christopher a warning look but their son just smirks back at him. 

Eddie doesn't see any problem with what Chris said, although he would perhaps object to the 'gross' part of it. What's wrong with having two parents who are in love? 

When Buck sets him down beside the Jeep and lingers for a fraction of a moment in his space, Eddie thinks Buck might really kiss him this time. He doesn't, and Eddie tries to push aside his disappointment as he’s helped into the passenger seat. Maybe they have some sort of rule about not kissing in front of Chris, that seems like something a teenager might impose. Although Eddie thinks that a traumatic brain injury should be grounds to qualify for an exception. 

While Buck manoeuvers the car out of the parking lot, Eddie takes in their surroundings. He doesn't recognize them per se, but the place does hold a vague sort of familiarity, like Eddie might be remembering it from a dream. 

“Where do we live?” Eddie asks curiously, peering through the windshield. 

“Los Angeles,” Chris supplies from the back seat. 

“Oh good.” Eddie nods approvingly. “I’ve always wanted to live by the ocean. Do we go there often?” 

“Every week,” Chris confirms. “Buck taught me how to surf.” 

“Woah.” Eddie looks over at Buck, admiration blooming in his chest. “Do I know how to surf?” 

Buck snorts. “You wish.” Eddie frowns and looks at Chris through the rear view mirror for support but sees him smirking. 

"I think I'm a firefighter,” Eddie announces after a few minutes, the thought occurring to him as a siren blares in distant traffic. “I don't know why I think that, I just do." 

"You're right, you are. That's a great sign," Buck says encouragingly, beaming at Eddie from the driver's seat. And seriously, could they make this guy any cuter? Past Eddie had immaculate taste. 

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a firefighter too. We're actually partners,” Buck explains. 

"Wow," Eddie sighs dreamily. "Partners on and off the job, that's so romantic."

Christopher laughs from the back seat, and Buck blushes again. Eddie notices that his birthmark grows darker when he blushes. He wishes Buck could blush all the time. His face is just so pretty. 

"This is incredible," Chris says gleefully. "Can we keep him on painkillers all the time?" he asks Buck expectantly. 

"Chris!" Buck chastises, shaking his head. "C'mon bud, that's messed up. He doesn't have any of his memories."

"I guess," Chris concedes. "He's just so much less uptight like this."

Eddie can't imagine why he'd ever be uptight when he has these two incredible boys in his life. 

“I’m not uptight,” Eddie protests stubbornly. 

“Mmmm, you kinda are though,” Buck informs him, at least having the grace to sound apologetic about it. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees, partially to show how not-uptight he is and partially just to see Buck blush again. It works like a charm. 

“Sweetheart,” Chris echoes in a sing-song voice. “Did you hear that, Buck?” 

“I heard it,” Buck confirms shortly, jaw tight, eyes trained on the road. 

“Why don't you call Buck dad too?” Eddie asks, completely forgetting the doctor’s instructions and turning around to face his son. 

Without taking his eyes off the road, Buck takes a hand off the steering wheel and reaches out to catch Eddie gently by the collar and carefully redirects his head forward. 

“Keep your neck straight,” he mutters. 

“Uh,” Chris hesitates. “I guess it would just get confusing. Since I call you dad.” 

“Oh.” Eddie considers that. “Alright.” As long as it's okay with Buck, it's okay with him. 

“I’m hungry,” Eddie remarks when they've been driving for about fifteen minutes. He isn't sure how long he was passed out, but he's pretty sure a single Jell-O cup isn't enough to survive on. 

“Okay, I'll stop somewhere,” Buck volunteers immediately. “What did you want to get?” 

“I don't know.” Eddie shrugs. “What do I like?” 

“McDonald's!” Chris suggests excitedly from the back seat. Buck makes a skeptical noise in the back of his throat. 

“What do they have there?” 

“Burgers, fries, chicken nuggets,” Buck lists off. 

“Hmm.” Eddie thinks about it for a moment. “I want a milkshake,” he decides aloud. “Strawberry.” 

Buck takes his eyes off the road to flash Eddie an incredulous look. “ You want strawberry ice cream?” 

“You hate strawberry ice cream,” Chris tells him. 

“Do I?” Eddie frowns. He’s quite sure he's craving a strawberry milkshake. 

“We can get you one,” Buck tells him. “But you might want to reconsider, because you're not drinking all of my chocolate one when you inevitably realize you hate it.” 

Somehow Eddie doesn't think that's entirely true. He sort of has the feeling that Buck would do almost anything Eddie asked of him if the request was accompanied by enough eyelash batting and pet-naming. 

They don't go to McDonald’s, because Chris says that the ice cream machine is always broken. They go to a different fast food joint that Eddie doesn't have any recollection of, and Buck pulls into a parking spot for them to eat. Eddie doesn't hate the strawberry milkshake, but he can't honestly say that he likes it either. He does like the cheeseburger with grilled mushroom and onions that Buck ordered for him ‘just the way you like it.’ 

He steals half of Buck’s fries (although, is it really stealing if Buck is hand feeding most of them to him?), and he drinks more than half of Buck’s chocolate milkshake, at Buck’s own insistence because he claims that he can tell Eddie 'isn't enjoying that’ about the strawberry one. 

Eddie is feeling sleepy again once they're done eating, and he dozes in the passenger seat the rest of the way home. He tries not to be disappointed when Buck shakes him awake so he can walk into the house on his own instead of just carrying him again. 

Thankfully, the couch is in Eddie’s direct line of sight when he gets through the front door of the house that is his, but isn't really at the moment. Still feeling lethargic and sort of buzzed, Eddie walks over to the couch in a haze and sits down. He curls instinctually into the cushions, like it's muscle memory. 

“Did you want to watch a movie?” Christopher asks, sitting down beside Eddie and leaning into him. 

“Sure,” Eddie mumbles, wrapping his arm around Chris’ shoulders and turning his head to press a kiss to his temple. 

“Maybe just an episode of something,” Buck suggests anxiously. “You're not supposed to have too much screentime.” 

“Okay,” Eddie agrees easily, already feeling like he's drifting off again. 

Chris turns on some show that Eddie, of course, isn't familiar with, and he hovers somewhere on the edge of sleep while it plays, more occupied with his son cuddled up against him than whatever is on the screen. Eddie gets the impression that Chris is probably too old to be voluntarily seeking out much physical affection from him these days, and so he holds on extra tight, cherishing the moment.

Even though Eddie can't remember how he got hurt or how long he was unconscious, he feels overwhelmed with relief to be this close to his son, to be able to spend this time with his family. 

Buck is sitting on the other side of Christopher, but Eddie notices that he isn't really paying attention to the TV either. He keeps glancing over at Eddie and Chris, his expression caught between affection and a wistfulness that Eddie can't understand. 

This is the worst thing that could possibly happen. Well, after Eddie dying, or being maimed, or having serious permanent brain damage (although, Buck supposes, that remains to be seen), or any of the other awful possibilities that raced through Buck’s brain the second Eddie’s rope snapped and he went careening down the side of a building in downtown two days ago. 

As it stands though, being mistaken as the husband of his straight best friend who he’s been hopelessly in love with for the better part of the last decade is also a pretty bad outcome. 

The ring had been Bobby's idea, and it had seemed like a good one at the time. There had initially been some concern that Buck wouldn't be able to stay overnight in the ICU with Chris without being an immediate family member, so Bobby had slipped the rubber safety band he wore on shift in place of his real wedding band off of his finger and given it to Buck. The hospital staff already assumed that Buck was Eddie’s partner, so it hadn't been a difficult lie to play off. Now Buck isn't sure if he’ll ever forgive Bobby for the torture he’s going through. 

Hospital staff thinking he was Eddie’s husband was one thing. Eddie thinking that Buck is his husband is something else entirely. Something far worse, something that makes hope and despair twist through his chest in equal measure. 

Eddie is fast asleep by the time the episode is over, his head lolling against the back of the couch, Chris tucked securely against his side. 

“Hey, bud,” Buck whispers, tapping Chris lightly on the shoulder. 

Chris, who wasn't all the way asleep yet, blinks at Buck. “Yeah?” he whispers tiredly. 

“I'm gonna have to move your dad, it's not good for his neck to sleep like this.” 

Sleepily, Chris shuffles out of the way, stifling a yawn as Buck moves to Eddie's side. 

“Are you going to carry him?” Chris asks, keeping his voice quiet still but when Buck looks over his shoulder he can see Chris smirking. 

“He needs to rest.” Buck shrugs casually and turns back to lift Eddie into his arms for the second time today. He hopes Chris can't tell his heart is racing inside his chest. 

It really shouldn't phase him, he has to carry people all the time at work, and this is strictly medical. Eddie’s injured and needs help . Buck is probably a terrible person for feeling mildly insane about how easy it is for him to handle Eddie’s full body weight. 

He carries Eddie down the hall to his bedroom and lays him on the bed without mishap, Eddie remains fast asleep the entire time. He only shifts when Buck tucks one of the blankets from the foot of the bed around his shoulders. The movement sends a shock of dark hair falling into Eddie’s face and Buck only hesitates for a moment before delicately brushing it back. 

“Ahem.” Buck nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway and he looks up to see Chris leaning on his crutches and watching him. 

“Jesus,” Buck mutters, rubbing a hand over his chest. “You scared me.” 

“Sorry.” Chris beams, looking entirely unapologetic. 

Buck huffs and shakes his head as he crosses over to the door. “Come on, let's leave him to sleep.” 

Chris hesitates, hovering in the hallway, looking down at the floor. 

“Hey,” Buck softens his tone. “What's up?” 

“Do you think it would be okay if I stayed with him?” Chris asks, hesitantly looking up at Buck. 

“He’s okay, Chris. I promise.” Buck places a hand on Christopher’s shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I know,” Chris nods. “I just still worry about him.” 

“So do I, bud,” Buck agrees quietly. “Of course it would be fine if you stayed with him. He’s out pretty good, I doubt you’d disturb him.” 

“Okay,” Chris nods and shuffles into the room. Buck waits as he situates himself on the other side of the bed, settling against the headboard. 

“Thanks,” Chris murmurs when Buck hands him a blanket to put over his legs. 

“Course.” Buck lightly ruffles Chris’ hair. “I'm here if you need anything.” 

“I know, Buck,” Chris replies, smiling up at him. “You always are.” 

The sincerity in Chris’ tone, like his confidence that he can always count on Buck is a simple fact of life, nearly knocks him over. 

When he closes the door, Buck feels a little better. Maybe he isn't really Eddie’s husband and maybe Chris isn't really his kid, but they're family in all the ways that matter. 

To Eddie’s surprise, he wakes up in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a blanket tucked around him. Chris is curled up on the other side of the bed, fast asleep, another blanket draped over him. Eddie reaches out and brushes a stray curl away from his son’s forehead. Buck must have been the one to relocate them from the couch. A small smile forms on Eddie’s lips at the thought. 

Eddie blinks slowly, taking in the room around him. Like everything since waking up in the hospital, it doesn't seem totally foreign, he's just having trouble placing it, like something he once saw in a dream that’s already faded. 

“Hey.” Buck appears in the doorway, cracking the door just enough to let in a stream of light from the hall. “I’m glad to see you're awake, I was just coming to check on you. Did you want supper?” 

Eddie looks around, feeling disoriented. The curtains are drawn, so he can't tell what time it is. Didn't they just have lunch? 

“It's not quite ready yet,” Buck says softly, keeping his voice low so as to not wake Christopher. “But it's time for you to take your painkillers.” 

“Okay.” Eddie nods, cringes at the twinge in his neck, and quietly slips out of bed, still a little shaky on his feet as he joins Buck in the hallway. 

“How are you feeling?” Buck asks, placing a steadying hand on the small of Eddie’s back as they make their way to the kitchen. 

“Okay, I think?” There's a dull, throbbing pain that begins in Eddie’s lower spine and radiates up into his neck and shoulders. He winces as he sits down at the kitchen table. “A little sore.” 

“That's ‘cause some of your meds are wearing off,” Buck explains as he gets a glass out of the cupboard. “You’re on two different painkillers, the doses are staggered so that you're never stuck with the full brunt of the pain all at once.”

“Wow, I guess I was hurt pretty bad,” Eddie considers, the fact of his injury only really sinking in for the first time now. 

“Yeah.” Buck nods and his expression goes tight and pinched for a second. 

“What happened?” Eddie asks. 

Buck swallows and the crease between his brows deepens. “Your harness snapped when you were hanging off the side of a building. Thankfully you got caught by a safety rope, but you fell pretty far before that and banged into a window pretty good on the way down.” 

“Oh.” Eddie frowns. It shouldn't be surprising that he can't recall the event, but it sounds like something so significant that he should at least have an inkling of it, but there's nothing. Beyond the events of today, his brain feels like it's a swirling blur whenever he tries to recall anything further back. “Were you there?” 

Buck nods, looking more pained than Eddie’s seen him. “Who do you think was on the ropes?” Buck smiles wryly. 

“Oh, Buck. I'm so sorry.” Something jagged twists in Eddie’s chest at that. He can tell how much Buck loves him and he certainly knows how much he loves Buck. He can't imagine how upsetting it would have been to watch your partner almost die in front of you without being able to do anything about it. 

“You're sorry?” Buck huffs incredulously. “You almost died and you're apologizing to me?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie nods slowly. “I mean, I can't remember it right now to be fucked up about it myself.” He shrugs. “But you can and I can't imagine how scary that was for you, to - to watch your husband almost die in front of you like that.” 

“Oh.” Buck’s expression softens in surprise, like he wasn't expecting any sympathy. “I mean, it's not the first time,” Buck brushes past it swiftly, like he doesn't hold his own feelings in as high regard as he does Eddie's. As soon as he’s feeling better, Eddie will need to do something about that. 

“No?” Eddie asks, perplexed. “Are near death experiences a normal occurrence for us?” 

Buck laughs, and this time it's genuine. “Yeah, sorta.” 

“Damn, I guess we really took the whole ‘in sickness and in health’ thing literally,” Eddie remarks as he accepts the glass of water and a couple of pills from Buck. 

Buck’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “Yeah,” he agrees softly. “I guess we did.” 

“What are you making for dinner?” Eddie asks after dutifully swallowing his painkillers and finishing his glass of water. Buck is standing at the stove stirring something that smells amazing. 

“Just tomato soup.” Buck shrugs, as if a warm, home cooked meal is no big deal. It's a big deal to Eddie. “I was thinking I might do some grilled cheeses too. It's Christopher’s favourite,” Buck tells him. 

“Hmm,” Eddie hums in acknowledgement, gingerly setting his chin in his palm and closing his eyes against the brief flare of pain in his neck. “That sounds good.” 

“You alright?” Buck asks with concern, and when Eddie opens his eyes he’s turned away from the stove to stare intently at him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie assures him. “Just fine.” 

“Well.” Buck raises his eyebrows. “At least the amnesia hasn't taken away all of your tendencies to repress your feelings.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What does that mean?” 

“I just told you you almost died! It's okay to admit that you're in pain,” Buck scolds him, although it lacks any real heat. 

“Oh.” Eddie scrunches his nose. “I - it's not that bad, it didn't seem like a big deal.” 

“Mmm.” Buck narrows his eyes. “Yeah, that definitely tracks for you.” He turns back to the stove. Eddie isn't sure what that's supposed to mean either. 

“How’s Christopher handling all this?” Eddie asks, because what his son is feeling is certainly more important. “He’s been very calm about this whole thing since I woke up, I can tell he’s trying to be brave, I just worry -” 

“That he inherited your propensity for repression?” Buck quips, swiveling to face Eddie again with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah, that,” Eddie confirms. 

Buck considers for a moment. “I think he's handling it okay. He’s a tough kid and, like I just said, we’ve already made it through some pretty difficult shit.” 

Eddie nods by default and hisses through his teeth. 

“Watch it,” Buck warns. “Or I'm gonna have to steal a C-collar from work to keep your neck still.” 

“Sorry,” Eddie grimaces. “Whiplash is awful.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Buck commiserates. “I had it really bad after the lightning strike.” 

Eddie gapes at him. “You got struck by lightning?” 

“Yep. And then you used my crazy math skills to win a poker game.” Buck grins at him. 

“What?” Eddie asks blankly, not understanding any of that. 

“Don't worry about it.” Buck waves him off. “It's a funny story.” 

Eddie makes a small, skeptical noise in the back of his throat. He can't imagine anything about Buck being struck by lightning being funny. 

“Well, the poker part was funny, not the lightning strike itself,” Buck amends. 

“So, you have crazy math skills?” Eddie asks curiously. That seems like something that could come in handy. 

“Not anymore,” Buck admits dejectedly. “They kinda dissipated after a while.” 

“I wish I’d gotten a super power from falling off a building instead of this horrible spinal pain,” Eddie complains, and Buck throws a small, sympathetic pout his way. 

“You sort of got a superpower.” Eddie has to force himself to not turn his head to look at Chris, who's just spoken from the hallway. 

“Did I?” Eddie slowly turns his full body in his chair to face his son, who’s making his way towards the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I mean, you're gay now,” Chris states, like that's an explanation. “It's practically a miracle.” 

“I’m …” Eddie ponders that. “Wasn't I gay before I almost died?” 

Eddie might not know much, but he’s pretty sure people are born gay, and it's not a condition brought on by going comatose. 

“Of course you were,” Buck says quickly, shooting Chris a warning look . “Uh, babe,” he adds a little awkwardly. Chris cackles as he maneuvers around Eddie’s chair to sit down beside him at the kitchen table. 

“I don't know if I like ‘babe,’ as a pet name,” Eddie muses thoughtfully. “I’d prefer something cuter.” 

“Cuter?” Buck asks flatly. 

“Yes.” Eddie decides, careful not to nod this time. “What do I usually call you?” 

“Um.” Buck shifts on his feet, stirring the pot on the stove vigorously. “Just Buck, really, sometimes bud or buddy.” 

Eddie wrinkles his nose. He knows that can't be true. 

“Buddy?” Eddie asks incredulously. “We’re married and I call you ‘buddy’?” 

“Oh!” Chris pipes up. “And ‘mi amor’.” 

“Mi amor,” Eddie repeats quietly. That sounds more like it. 

“ Christopher ,” Buck hisses, rounding on their son with a glare and brandishing his wooden spoon like a weapon. 

“You're dripping soup on the floor,” Chris informs him, unbothered. 

“You are on thin ice right now, young man,” Buck mutters darkly, turning back to the stove. 

“Ew, don't call me ‘young man’,” Chris bristles. 

“Then behave,” Buck grouses back. 

“What's wrong with calling you mi amor?” Eddie wonders aloud. “Do you not like it?” 

“No! He looooves it,” Chris cuts in before Buck has the chance to answer for himself. “See look, he's blushing about it right now.” 

It's true. The side of Buck’s face that Eddie can see certainly looks a bit pink. Obviously there's something here that Eddie is missing though, so he figures he’d better keep it to ‘Buck’ for now and figure out whatever his husband’s hang up around pet names is when he's got more brain capacity for it. 

Dinner is incredible. Eddie is amazed at Buck’s ability to make soup and sandwiches seem exciting. Maybe it's just because he’s forgotten every meal he’s ever eaten before, but to him, it's perfect and he says as much. 

“Thanks.” Buck ducks his head and that adorable blush is back. 

“I mean it,” Eddie says earnestly. “You're a really good cook, but I'm sure I tell you that all the time.” 

“Well,” Buck hesitates, inclining his head. “You could tell me a little more often.” 

Eddie grins at him. “I’ll be sure to make note of that.” 

“Yuck,” Chris mumbles into his next bite of sandwich. 

“Something wrong with your dinner, Chris?” Buck asks pointedly. 

“Nope.” Chris shakes his head. “Dinner is great, it's just you two that are insufferable.”

“What? I'm not allowed to compliment his cooking?” Eddie asks defensively. 

Chris rolls his eyes. “It's more the making love sick heart eyes at each other across the table that's my problem.” 

“That's not very nice,” Eddie points out. “I think after our marriage very nearly came to a premature end, we're allowed a little lovesickness.” 

Buck chokes on his spoonful of soup and starts coughing so loudly it drowns out Christopher’s long suffering sigh. 

“You know what,” Chris remarks, watching Buck pound his chest with a look of intense amusement. “I think you're right, Dad.” 

Eddie blinks at him in surprise. “Oh,” he says. “Good.” 

“Just, you know,” Chris adds with a shrug. “Maybe not in front of my salad.” 

Eddie's face crinkles in confusion. “We're not having salad.” 

“It's a meme, Dad,” Chris tells him, but Eddie just stares blankly back. 

“You have to know that means nothing to me,” Eddie replies helplessly. 

“Wow,” Chris breathes, looking crestfallen for the first time all day. “A world where you don't know about memes, I don't know if I could survive like that.” 

“I really don't think that's the most pressing issue here,” Buck cuts in, cheeks red and eyes watery from his coughing fit. 

“Eh.” Chris shrugs. “He seems to be doing pretty okay with everything else.” 

“I don’t know if I’d classify forgetting my entire life and identity as 'pretty okay’,” Eddie interjects. 

“You didn't forget your entire life, Dad.” Chris reaches out and gives a reassuring pat to Eddie's forearm. “You remembered me and Buck, and we’re most important anyway.” 

“That's true,” Eddie concedes with a smile. That does make him feel a little better. His family is definitely the most important thing. 

“Besides,” Buck says encouragingly. “The doctor said you should start remembering more stuff pretty soon.” 

“You're right,” Eddie agrees. “And honestly, and this might just be the drugs talking, but I'm not too worried about it at the moment. My life seems pretty good.” 

“Oh.” Buck’s breath catches and he gives Eddie an odd look, filled with an emotion Eddie can't identify. 

“Yeah,” Eddie goes on. “I mean we’ve got a great kid.” He reaches across to ruffle Chris’ curls, to which he protests adamantly, but leans into Eddie’s touch nonetheless. “I’ve got a husband who can cook great meals, wants to look after me, and is incredibly handsome to boot.” Eddie throws Buck a wink across the table and this time he’s between spoonfuls of soup when he chokes. “Plus being firefighters sounds pretty cool.” 

“It - it is pretty cool,” Buck agrees around another cough. “It's, um, an important job,” he stammers. As if their occupations were the most important part of what Eddie said. Eddie isn't sure what's up with Buck downplaying his own significance all the time, but he can't say he cares for it. He reaches across the table to firmly take Buck’s hand in his. 

“Yeah, I'm sure it is,” Eddie says patiently. “But I'm pretty sure I think that being Chris’ dad and your husband are more important jobs.” He squeezes Buck’s hand for emphasis. “Don't sell yourself short.” 

Buck doesn't answer, he just stares across at Eddie, eyes wide and slightly glazed over. 

“I think I'm gonna go to my room,” Chris announces loudly, startling Eddie out of the trance Buck’s gaze has locked him in. 

“Oh no you don't.” Buck’s head snaps around and Eddie mourns the loss of his undivided attention. “You're gonna stick around and help me clean up.” 

“But Buck,” Chris groans. 

“Eddie,” Buck ignores Chris’ whining and turns back to him. “Why don't you go take a shower now that your meds have had a chance to take effect? I'm sure you feel all gross and hospital-y.” 

“I do. I was actually just thinking that,” Eddie says, in awe of Buck's seeming ability to read his mind. 

“Not my first time helping you out after a major injury,” Buck reminds him. “Let me help you get set up.” He stands from the table. “And you.” Buck points a finger at Chris. “Stay put.” 

“Okay, Dad .” Chris rolls his eyes, and Buck opens his mouth wordlessly before snapping it shut again, lips pressing into a thin, unimpressed line. 

“ Chris ,” Eddie chides gently. “Buck cooked dinner for us.” 

“I know, I know. I'll help,” Chris waves him off. “I'm just giving him a hard time.” 

“Sure,” Eddie assents mildly. “But he’s already got his hands full dealing with me. Why don't you give him a break today?” 

“I think that's a great idea, Eddie,” Buck asserts, and although he’s addressing Eddie, he's staring at Chris when he says it. 

It must be strange for Buck, giving Eddie a tour of their own bathroom and shower products, but he doesn't let on. He just reminds Eddie that the temperature control is a little wonky on the left side and gets him a fresh towel from a cabinet Eddie didn't even know existed. 

Feeling bold, Eddie catches Buck by the wrist before he can turn to go. “You could stay,” he suggests quietly, looking tentatively up at Buck. “And help me?” 

“I - are you - did you need help?” Buck asks haltingly, his eyes going as wide as saucers. And he looks so genuinely alarmed that Eddie immediately backtracks. 

“No, no, I'm sure I'll be fine,” Eddie relents, letting go of Buck reluctantly. It's not like he was trying to do anything with their kid just down the hall, he just likes the idea of keeping Buck close to him. It's comforting. It feels right, his body craves the feeling of having Buck by his side. 

“Okay, um, well, just call if you do need anything and I’ll come?” Buck slowly backs towards the doorway, like he's trying to avoid a bear on a busy hiking trail rather than his mostly incapacitated spouse. “Chris and I will stay in the kitchen so I’ll just leave the door cracked and listen for you, okay?” 

“Sure,” Eddie deflates. “Yeah, I'll just, uh, call.” 

“Okay, good.” Buck turns and leaves the room. “Um, have a good shower.” 

Eddie stares after him for a moment before letting out a disappointed sigh and getting undressed 

“Why do you insist on making this worse?” Buck demands as soon as he hears the water turn on down the hall. 

“Me?” Chris asks, the picture of innocence. “What did I do?” 

Buck glares, but Chris bears it gracefully. Probably because he knows it's impossible for Buck to actually be mad at him. 

“He's going to get his memories back, you know,” Buck tells Chris, keeping his voice low so Eddie won't overhear. 

“Yeah, I know ,” Chris replies, sounding a little exasperated. 

“Okay, so stop pushing the whole marriage thing,” Buck grits out. 

“What?” Chris laughs. “You don't think he's gonna be thrilled about it when he's got his memories back?” 

“What? No! Of course not!” Buck protests too loudly before remembering they're trying not to be overheard. “Of course not,” he repeats in a whisper. “Why would he be?” 

Christopher's gaze is withering. “ Buck .” 

“Chris.” 

“Seriously?” Chris asks incredulously. 

“Seriously what?” Buck repeats, at a loss. 

“Come on,” Chris groans, like Buck is being intentionally difficult, which he’s not, for the record. “I've known you guys are into each other since I was like eight.” 

Buck’s heart skips a beat and then catapults into a rhythm that is certainly unhealthily fast. 

“How could you possibly know that?” he asks calmly - well, at least he tries for calm, he doesn't think he quite manages it. 

“Uh, I have eyes?” Chris deadpans. “Also dad is, like, obviously gay. Have you seen him with women?” 

Buck elects to ignore that second comment. “Your dad isn't gay, Chris, he’s just confused!” 

“Wow. First of all, that's homophobic. Second of all, I'm pretty sure I was just permanently traumatized by overhearing him ask if you wanted to stay and ‘help him in the shower’,” Chris makes quotation marks in the air, “which is the opposite of straight behaviour if you ask me.” 

Not that anyone did ask him. Regardless, Buck has no idea how to respond to that, so naturally he says the one thing that could make it even worse. “Your dad and I shower together all the time.” 

“Ew.” Christopher's face scrunches up in disgust. 

“At work!” Buck exclaims, wishing he could be anywhere else but in this conversation. Well, not anywhere , being in the shower with Eddie would definitely be worse than this. Probably.

“That's different,” Chris says impatiently. 

“I'm just saying, showering together isn't inherently gay,” Buck retorts. 

“Okay, sure, it's not gay if it’s at work, that makes sense.” Chris rolls his eyes. “Wow, firefighter really is the gayest first responder job. All the suspenders and poles and showering together.” 

“Now who’s being homophobic,” Buck mutters as he starts pouring the sink. That gets a laugh from Chris and Buck, in spite of himself, smiles. 

After his shower, Eddie inspects his face in the mirror. He's not a bad looking guy. He looks a little out of it right now, there are dark circles under his eyes and his stubble is getting a little scruffy, but he doesn't trust himself to operate a razor quite yet, so it’ll have to stay for the moment. He wonders if Buck prefers him with facial hair or without. 

"Hey," Eddie calls down the hall. "Should I grow a moustache?" 

"No," Chris groans at the same time Buck shouts, "Yes!" 

Huh . Maybe he’ll try it. 

“How are you feeling?” Buck asks when Eddie makes his way back into the kitchen. 

“Good,” Eddie says. “Much less gross. I'm pretty tired though. How long am I going to be exhausted all the time?” 

“Mmm,” Buck considers for a moment. “Probably a while, you're recovering from a pretty big injury. I slept so much after the fire truck.” 

“The fire truck?” Eddie asks, confused. 

“Oh, yeah,” Buck answers absently. “It fell on me.” 

“It wha t?” Eddie doesn't mean to raise his voice, it's just that that's an absolutely insane thing to say. “The fire truck fell on you?” 

“Yup.” Buck nods, seeming completely unphased. 

“Buck?” Eddie starts tentatively. “How many times have we almost died at work?” 

“Uhhh.” Buck, to Eddie’s concern, really has to stop to think about that. “All together or individually?” 

Eddie stares at him in mild horror. “Individually, I guess?”

“Well, that really depends,” Buck muses. “Are we counting the times we’ve actually been on death's door and in the hospital, or the situations where we could have died but didn't, or both?” 

“I -” Eddie blinks repeatedly. His head feels like it's spinning. “Nevermind,” he says, sinking down into one of the kitchen chairs. “I don't think I want to know. My brain might explode.” 

Buck laughs. “Yeah, that's fair. You don't need to worry about it right now.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie sighs and lifts a hand to scrub across his face. He really is so tired. He kind of wishes Buck would hold him. 

“Hey.” Eddie blinks his eyes open to see Buck crouching in front of him. He lays a gentle hand on Eddie’s knee. “Why don't you go to bed, hm?” 

“It's still so early,” Eddie protests weakly. “And I want to spend more time with Christopher.” He glances down the hall where he can hear the muffled sound of video game sound effects. 

“Yeah, okay,” Buck agrees instantly. “But let's figure out something relaxing to do. I’ll go ask Chris if he has any ideas, you go get comfy on the couch.” 

Eddie complies easily, happy to do whatever Buck tells him to. His limbs feel heavy and his thoughts feel like they're floating somewhere far, far above him. 

Chris suggests they look through family photos, to see if Eddie remembers anything. It's okay if he doesn't, Chris reassures him, they can just do it for fun too. So Eddie finds himself nestled between Chris and Buck on the couch for the next hour and a half while they flip through various photo albums and scroll through the camera roll on Buck’s phone. 

It's nice. Even though Eddie doesn't recognize any of the memories they peruse, he likes looking at the pictures. They really do seem like a very happy family most of the time, which is reassuring after the apparently high volume of close calls with death Buck has alluded to. Eddie’s brain is so fuzzy that he doesn't even take note of the fact that they don't look at any of Christopher’s baby photos, or any photo albums before 2019, and he barely notices the way Buck and Chris will skip over some photos more quickly and neglect to share the stories that belong with them. 

“Woah,” Eddie remarks, wide eyed as they look at a Christmas photo that shows a whole group of people standing in what Buck has informed him is the loft at their fire station. Between him and Buck hangs a little sprig of mistletoe. “Who are all these people?” he asks in wonder, eyes tracing over the plethora of friendly but unfamiliar faces. 

“That's our family,” Buck says simply. 

“We could tell you all their names,” Chris pipes up, but Eddie hesitates. There are at least twelve people in the photo and the prospect of keeping that many names straight in his head sounds like a Herculean effort right now. 

“Maybe tomorrow,” Buck cuts in. “No need to overwhelm you, we can look at these again any time.” 

“Sounds good.” Eddie smiles at him gratefully and Buck gives his knee a brief squeeze. 

There are so many pictures of their little family of three, and Eddie wonders, of the two of them, whether it's him or Buck that insists on taking so many. He gathers it must be a pretty even split though because there are lots of photos of just him and Chris, lots of just Chris and Buck, and only some of the three of them together, most of those are selfies. Which makes sense, Eddie supposes, but he wonders why they've never had someone take a proper family photoshoot for them. It would be nice to hang up around the house. In fact, there's a conspicuous lack of any kind of professional photography. 

“Where are our wedding photos?” Eddie asks abruptly, scanning the albums stacked on the coffee table in front of them to see if they’ve missed one. 

“Uh,” Buck clears his throat. “Well, they're, ah -” 

“They haven't gotten printed yet,” Chris says loudly, talking over Buck. “The photographer hasn't sent them over.” 

“Oh.” Eddie frowns. He’d assumed that he and Buck had been married for quite some time. It’s clear from the way they're looking at each other in every single photo of the pair of them that they’ve been in a relationship for years. “We got married recently then?” 

Buck, who was mid sip of his beer as Eddie asked the question, splutters and starts to cough. Instinctively, Eddie reaches over to pound him on the back. 

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he admonishes lightly, which, for some reason, sends Buck into an even more violent coughing fit. 

“Yeah,” Chris confirms, ignoring the wheezing noises Buck’s making as he struggles to catch his breath. “You got married like, a few months ago, so it might be a bit before you, uh, get the photos.” 

“Oh,” Eddie sighs in disappointment. “That's a shame.” 

“It is,” Chris commiserates. “I sure would like to see them.” He looks at Buck, not Eddie, when he says this. 

Buck, who is still recovering, just wipes his eyes and doesn't look at either of them. Eddie leaves his hand on Buck’s back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades, hoping to soothe him. 

“Well.” Buck stands up abruptly. “I think we’ve just about looked through everything. Chris, isn't it bedtime?” 

“Ugh,” Chris huffs. “It's not even ten yet.” 

Even Eddie raises an eyebrow at that. 

“Okay, fine,” Chris relents, catching Eddie’s eye. 

“I could use an early night too,” Eddie offers, in hopes that may placate his teenager on what is apparently considered as too early for bedtime. 

“Yeah, me too,” Buck agrees. “We've all been through the wringer the last few days, I think we could do with some extra sleep.” 

While Chris gets ready for bed, Buck shows Eddie where his pyjamas and toothbrush are, he plugs in Eddie's phone (which he honestly has no idea how to operate) on the nightstand beside the bed, and gets him a glass of water. Chris comes in to bid them both goodnight and, while Buck folds Chris into a hug, it strikes Eddie again just how similar the two of them look with their matching ruffled curls. 

“Goodnight, Dad. I'm so glad you're home,” Chris says, when it’s Eddie’s turn for a hug. 

“Me too,” Eddie murmurs into the side of his head. He presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple. “I love you so much, mijo.” 

“I love you too.” Chris lets Eddie hang onto him for a few more seconds before pulling away and making his way to the door. “Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, bud. Goodnight.” The way Buck smiles at Chris is so soft that Eddie thinks he might melt. 

“Alright,” Buck says, once the bedroom door is closed and they hear Chris’ own door click shut down the hall. “Seems like you're all set up in here?” 

“Set up?” Eddie asks blankly. 

“Ready for bed,” Buck clarifies. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. 

“Okay, great.” Buck claps his hands together and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Well, I'll just be on the couch then, if you need anything.” 

“What?” Eddie asks indignantly, voice coming out an octave too high. “Why would you be on the couch?” 

“Uh,” Buck hesitates and scratches the back of his neck. 

“I don't want you all the way out there.” Eddie pouts without quite meaning to. And maybe if he had all his usual faculties about him, he'd be embarrassed about it, but he doesn't want Buck to go. 

“Eddie, listen,” Buck sighs, and closes his eyes. 

“No,” Eddie protests, without giving him a chance to explain. “Whatever excuse you're going to give, I don't want to hear it. I’m sick of this,” he presses on, and Buck opens his eyes to stare while Eddie continues speaking. “You’ve - you’ve barely touched me all day and I’m tired and I'm scared and I don't know anything, you and Chris are the only things I remember. You're all I’ve got, I just - I want you to be close to me.” Eddie feels his face screwing up, and he has an instant, visceral urge to quell his tears. He lifts his hands and quickly wipes at his eyes, frustrated with himself. 

“I - Eddie, no. I’m sorry.” In mere seconds, Buck is sitting down beside him on the bed, laying one large, comforting palm on his shoulder. Eddie sniffs loudly and stubbornly scrubs his hands over his face until he can manage to keep his composure. 

“I just - I don't want to overstep,” Buck explains carefully. 

“By sleeping in your own bed?” Eddie huffs. 

“Well - I mean, you're recovering. You - you could use your space right now,” Buck reasons. 

“I don't want space!” Eddie protests. 

Buck sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Why don't you want to sleep with me?” Eddie asks, opting to ignore just how clingy he sounds. 

“It's not that,” Buck groans, and he sounds mildly frustrated now and that's when it dawns on Eddie. 

Finally everything clicks into place. The lack of pet names, the refusal to kiss Eddie at the hospital, the way Buck has been careful not to remain in Eddie’s personal space all day unless it was absolutely necessary. They're in a fight. 

“What was it then?” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. 

“What?” Buck blinks at him. 

“What were we arguing about?” Eddie raises an eyebrow. “It's obvious that there's something bothering you, and I'm sort of at a disadvantage here, so just tell me whatever it was and I’ll apologize. Even if I was in the right, I’m not going to know, so just tell me.” 

Buck doesn't reply, he just keeps blinking at Eddie. 

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie implores. “Whatever it is, whatever I did to piss you off before, I’m sorry. Let's just kiss and make up so we can go to bed.” Eddie gestures impatiently to the pillows, which he’d very much like to be laying down on, rather than trying to convince his husband to sleep in his own damn bed. 

“We weren't fighting,” Buck finally says, although his casual tone sounds forced. 

“What is it then?” Eddie demands. “Are we divorced?” 

“No!” Buck protests quickly. “I would never divorce you.” 

“Okay, so…” Eddie trails off expectantly, both eyebrows now raised at Buck. Although it does make him feel a little better to hear that Buck would never entertain the idea of getting divorced. 

A couple moments of silence stretch between them, and Buck’s face makes a journey through several different, slightly pained expressions, like he’s fighting some sort of internal battle. 

“Fine,” he says eventually, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Apology accepted. Let's …” Buck takes a deep breath and briefly closes his eyes, like he's bracing himself for something that requires a great deal of courage. “Go to bed,” he grits out. 

It's not exactly the enthusiasm Eddie was hoping for, but at least Buck’s agreed to sleep in the same room. 

“So,” Eddie says tentatively. 

“So?” Buck prompts, looking over at him. Buck’s arm is still around his shoulders and they're very close together. 

“Were you…” Eddie hesitates and bites his lip, briefly glancing down at Buck’s. 

“What?” Buck’s left eyebrow quirks up. 

Eddie swallows before quietly continuing, “Planning to do the kissing part of the making up?” 

“Oh.” Buck’s face flushes and he uses his free hand to rub at the back of his neck again. “I don't … know if that's a good idea.” 

Eddie feels his face fall and Buck immediately keeps talking. 

“Not that I don't want to!” he assures Eddie quickly, “It's just that, well, you know, with the whole...” He gestures to Eddie’s head. 

“ Buck .” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’m fairly certain I didn't forget how to kiss.” 

“No, right, of course.” Buck nods stiffly. “It's just, you know, consent.” 

“Consent,” Eddie repeats, eyebrows raised, voice monotone. 

“Yep.” 

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie huffs. “It’s not like I asked you to bend me over and fuck me.” 

The only appropriate descriptor for the noise Buck makes is a squeak, and his blush immediately spreads to his ears. “Ed - Eddie, what the fuck?” he stammers out, eyes so wide Eddie fears they may be in danger of popping right out of his skull. 

“What?” Eddie shrugs. “I said it’s not like you asked that.” 

Buck hides his eyes behind his hand, and Eddie notices that his breaths are very rapid. 

“It’s okay,” Eddie sighs, relenting. “Let's just go to sleep.” 

“Wait.” Buck’s fingers curl around his shoulder, holding Eddie in place as he drops his hand to look at Eddie again. His expression eases and his eyes turn liquid soft, dark and deep blue. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat as Buck ducks his head and leans across the space between them to press the most fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. Buck’s lips barely even brush his, and he mostly gets Eddie’s cheek, but his lips burn with it regardless. 

“We're all good, Eddie,” Buck assures him with a firm squeeze to his shoulder and a fond, easy smile. “Promise.” 

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, warmth blooming through his chest. “Good.” 

“Bed?” Buck asks, finally dropping his hand from Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie agrees quietly. 

Once the light is off, the silence between them shifts from tense to comfortable, like their bodies can't help but relax once they're near each other. In the dark, Eddie reaches out and easily finds Buck’s hand, their fingers seamlessly twine together. 

“Night, Eddie,” Buck says, giving Eddie’s hand a little squeeze. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbles, already half asleep. 

Buck: HELP

Buck: mads, please, u have to help me 

Maddie: What is it? What’s wrong?

Maddie: Is it Eddie? 

Buck: yes 

Buck: he’s on top of me 

Maddie: Okay, I absolutely do not need to know that!

Buck: MADDIE

Buck: [image attached of Eddie asleep on Buck’s chest] 

Maddie loved an image. 

Buck: don't do that! 

Maddie: What? It's cute! 

Buck: not cute for ME

Buck: he just migrated over to me after he fell asleep and I tried to move him but I don’t want to jostle him too much so now I’m just stuck here! 

Buck: in agony! 

Maddie: Okay, hang on 

Ohana Means 118 

Maddie forwarded an image.

Buck: traitor 😒

Hen loved an image. 

Karen loved an image. 

Athena loved an image. 

Chimney reacted ‼️ to an image. 

Ravi reacted 🏳️‍🌈 to an image. 

Bobby liked an image. 

Buck: guys this isn’t funny 

Bobby: My intention was for the wedding band to be pretend, Buck 😊 - Bobby Nash 

Buck: bobby, know that I love you, but I am NEVER forgiving you for this 

Maddie: For what? Making sure you were able to spend the night in the hospital with Eddie? Because how I remember it you said it was time for, and I quote, ‘drastic measures’ when you thought you might not be able to

Buck: well, yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Eddie thinks we’re MARRIED 

Ravi: and this is different from every other day, how?

Chimney emphasized a message. 

Buck: very funny 🙄

Bobby: My apologies if this has put you in an uncomfortable situation, but I am glad to see Eddie is getting the rest he needs - Bobby Nash 

Hen: Yeah, Buck, what kind of best friend are you? You don’t want Eddie to sleep comfortably while he’s recovering? 

Buck: I hate you all 

Athena: Oh, okay, I guess I won’t make those twice baked potatoes you like so much for family dinner on Tuesday then 😇

Buck: not you, Athena, never you! ily 💛

Athena: If you hate my husband, you hate me. We’re a package deal 

Buck: fine. I don’t hate Bobby either 

Athena: Glad to hear it! Twice baked potatoes are back on! 🥔

Ravi: and thank god 

Buck: if only I wasn’t going to die of embarrassment before Tuesday 😔

Chimney: Aw, buck up

Buck: you know that wasn’t funny the other hundred times you’ve said it either, right?

Chimney disliked a message. 

Buck: wow, okay, well thanks for being absolutely useless in a crisis, team. I’m gonna go stare at the ceiling now and hopefully disassociate 

Hen: Sleep well, you two! ❤️

Karen: Send Eddie our love! 

Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Chimney, Ravi, and Hen emphasized a message. 

Buck: I’ll be sure to pass it along but I don’t think it’ll make a dent. currently the three things his brain seems capable of retaining consist of me, chris, and inexplicably the fact that he likes green Jell-O ? 

Chimney: Sounds like he’s got his priorities straight! 

Hen: And that’s the only thing! 

Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Chimney, Ravi, and Karen laughed at a message. 

Buck disliked a message.

Consciousness slams into Eddie all at once. One minute, he's lost in peaceful, dreamless sleep, the next, he's aware of everything . Buck’s arm around his middle, the rhythmic rise and fall of Buck’s chest against his cheek, Buck’s scent in his nose, Buck’s body heat seeping into his skin. Buck who is not his husband, not even his boyfriend. Buck who is his best friend. Eddie who is not remarried, Eddie who has never even kissed a man. Eddie who has never admitted to being anything other than straight in his entire life. 

Eddie remembers everything, memories rushing through his brain in vibrant technicolour that brings out every brutal detail. He remembers the call and the fall, nothing new there, nothing revolutionary, just something to add to the growing laundry list of traumas and move on. The accident isn't the important part of what he remembers, Buck is. Buck, who assumed the responsibility of being Eddie’s spouse simply due to Eddie’s own mistake and didn't bother to correct him. For what reason, Eddie isn't sure, but he can only guess that it’s because Buck is such a painfully good person that he didn't want to confuse or upset Eddie further by explaining the truth. It's a little alarming how seamlessly Buck slipped into the role of being Eddie’s husband. Though now, every instance of awkwardness makes Eddie’s cheeks heat with embarrassment. No wonder Buck hadn't wanted to sleep in the same bed or shower with him. 

An audible groan escapes past Eddie’s lips. Buck’s arm tightens around him. 

“Shhh, you're okay,” Buck slurs sleepily, blindly reaching out to smooth his hand clumsily over Eddie’s hair. “G’back to sleep, you're just dreaming again.” 

“Buck?” Eddie whispers. 

“Mmm?” Buck turns his head and almost surely unintentionally nuzzles his nose into Eddie’s hair. Eddie loses his train of thought entirely when Buck breathes him in. 

“What's wrong?” Buck asks, sounding slightly more awake. “What time is it?” Eddie feels him strain over his head to check the alarm clock. “Did we forget to do your meds?” 

“No,” Eddie whispers back. He remembers Buck waking him up a couple of hours ago with some pills and a glass of water. 

“Does something hurt?” 

“No.” 

“Are you lying?” 

In spite of himself, Eddie huffs a small laugh. “No.” 

“Okay.” Buck settles back against his pillow again and begins carding his hand soothingly through Eddie’s hair. “Can we go back to sleep for a bit then? It's only 5:30.” 

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, voice small. 

“M’kay,” Buck mumbles, and to Eddie’s complete and total shock, leans down to press a kiss to his forehead before falling back asleep almost immediately. 

Well, at least that leaves Eddie with ample time to have a sexuality crisis privately. Unfortunately, he only gets about five minutes into his spiral before his eyelids begin to droop again, his breaths involuntarily slowing and evening out to match the steady rise and fall of Buck’s chest. He's sort of grateful for how drowsy the painkillers make him, because all of his memories and a sexuality crisis would be a lot to handle at the best of times, and this certainly one of them.

So maybe it's the medication talking, or maybe it's that Eddie is so utterly exhausted, or maybe it’s just that Buck feels so warm and safe and right cuddled up next to him, but Eddie thinks maybe he could let Buck be his husband for just one more day. He’s recovering, he reasons with himself as he fights a losing battle with oblivion, he can allow himself one more day before he has to handle all of that. 

The next time Eddie wakes, Buck isn't in bed anymore, but there are the tell-tale sounds of clattering in the kitchen that mean he’s making breakfast. Eddie can smell pancakes through the slightly cracked bedroom door. He gets up and shuffles down the hall, rubbing his eyes as he adjusts to the glare of the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows. 

“Hey, good morning.” Buck smiles warmly at him from his place at the counter. He’s leaning against it, idly twirling the spatula between his fingers while he waits for the current batch of pancakes on the skillet to be ready to flip. “How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” Eddie answers, avoiding eye contact as he sits down at the table. “Where's Chris?” 

“He went to school today,” Buck explains. “He’s got his exams coming up for the end of the year soon, and he already missed a few days with you in the hospital, so now that you're home and he knows you're okay, I convinced him to go.” 

Eddie hums in acknowledgment as Buck sets a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He lifts it and takes a sip. “Just how I like it,” Eddie comments appreciatively without thinking. 

“You remember how you take your coffee?” Buck asks eagerly. Eddie's eyes dart to him and he swallows guiltily. 

“Uh, yeah, I - I guess I do,” he stammers. 

“Eddie, that's great!” Buck beams at him. “Look at that, you're remembering more already!” 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees behind his coffee mug. 

They eat in relative silence while Eddie tries to fight through the residual fog in his brain to come up with a game plan. He knows he's going to have to tell Buck he can remember everything at some point, but the whole husbands thing is going to necessitate a conversation, and Eddie just isn't ready for that. His palms start sweating if he thinks about it too hard. 

At least for today he can continue under the pretence that he assumes they're married still, and then, as soon as he feels a little better, he'll bring it up. For the moment, he just won't say anything, but he'll stop seeking out ways to touch Buck or pressuring him about pet names and everything will be fine. 

It isn't. Buck notices something's wrong at once, because it’s Buck. 

"Is your stomach upset?" Buck asks halfway through breakfast. 

"Uh, what?" Eddie blinks across at him, feeling lost. 

"Oh, well the pharmacist said that could be a side effect from one of your pills and you haven't really touched your breakfast. I could make you something else?" Buck offers gently, watching Eddie with a look of concern. 

"I'm okay." Eddie pokes listlessly at one of his pancakes. "Thanks though." 

"Okay," Buck shrugs. "But I really don't mind. I could warm up some soup or make you toast?" 

Eddie swallows hard, taken off guard by the tightness in his throat and the heat threatening the corners of his eyes. Why does Buck have to be so good? Why does he always have to be so good to Eddie? 

"It's fine, Buck," Eddie says, a little more gruffly than he intends to. "I think I'm just gonna go sit on the couch for a bit." 

Grabbing his coffee mug off the table, Eddie makes his escape and tries to ignore the look of worry on Buck's face as he leaves the room. 

A few minutes of merciful solitude pass while Buck tidies up in the kitchen and Eddie turns on the tv, mindlessly flipping through channels until he settles on one of those daytime cooking shows that Buck likes to watch when he's stuck at home. He turns the volume on low and curls in on himself as much as his injuries will allow. 

"Hey." Buck emerges from the dining room and leans against the archway, watching Eddie. "You remembered how to work the tv remote." 

"Mmm," Eddie hums noncommittally. 

"Well I'm glad that some things are starting to come back to you today," Buck says as he flops down on the couch across from Eddie.  "The doctor said it could come back slowly, or all at once, but I'm glad it seems to be slow because I feel like everything at once would be pretty overwhelming." 

You have no idea, Eddie thinks miserably. 

"Sure." He offers Buck a tight smile. 

"Hey," Buck drops his voice to something low and soothing and painfully genuine. He reaches out to set a hand on Eddie's leg. "I'm sorry you're not feeling good today." 

"Thanks," Eddie murmurs, looking unseeingly at the tv screen. 

"Let me know if I can do anything to help, yeah?" 

And oh how Eddie wishes Buck wasn't always so fucking devoted to him. It hurts now, to know. 

"I will," Eddie agrees, with absolutely no intention of following through. 

"Eddie." Buck shifts until he's in Eddie's line of sight without him having to turn his head. "I'm serious, I want to take care of you. Besides," he adds lightly, giving Eddie's leg a playful nudge. "That's my job as your husband." 

Buck's eyes are twinkling and his lips are curled into a fond smile and Eddie cannot do this. He can't . But he can't handle the alternative either, so he just offers Buck a smile that he hopes is convincing, pats the back of his hand, and turns his attention back to the tv. 

It's the brioche that's Eddie's downfall. 

"You know, I've always wondered how to make that," Buck remarks when the chef on screen is halfway through the bread making process. They’ve been watching TV for about twenty minutes and at some point their hands gravitated close enough together for their fingers to brush and now Eddie’s palm is sweating while Buck contentedly holds his hand. 

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks. He’s always interested in hearing about Buck’s latest baking endeavours. 

“Mhm.” Buck nods. "I've never managed to figure it out. Bread is so much trickier than other baking." 

"You could ask Bobby," Eddie suggests. 

Buck doesn't reply for a full ten seconds and Eddie shifts himself around on the couch to look at him. Buck’s eyes are glued to him, wide and disbelieving, his lips parted in shock. 

"What?" Eddie frowns, confused. "He'd probably know." 

"How - how do you know that?" Buck asks, voice cracking. "How do you even know who Bobby is for that matter?" 

Oh shit . 

"Uhh." Eddie tries to free his hand from Buck’s grip but his muscles are seemingly frozen in shock. "Okay, so, turns out I might remember more than just a couple things." 

"What?" Buck asks sharply. 

"I -" Eddie hesitates. Well, no going back now. "I remember everything," he admits, deliberately avoiding eye contact. 

"For how long?" Buck demands, voice an octave too high. 

"Um, about 5:30 this morning?" 

"What the fuck, Eddie?" Buck jumps up, standing in front of the coffee table. He doesn’t drop Eddie’s hand, apparently forgetting he’s still holding it in the heat of the moment. 

"I - yeah." Eddie swallows, guilt bubbling in his stomach, as he watches their joined hands swing in front of his face. 

"You're a dick," Buck says reproachfully. "I mean, I'm glad you're fine and you've got your memories back, but you're a dick." 

"I'm sorry," Eddie mumbles, regretting all of his life decisions at once. He should have just told Buck right away. 

"Why didn't you tell me? I - I can't believe you knew and you just let me keep pretending that I was your - that we were - why would you do that, Eddie?" Buck seems properly distressed and the guilt in Eddie's gut redoubles. 

"Look, I'm sorry." Eddie holds up his free hand helplessly. "I just didn't know what to do, alright? I knew if I told you that this would be a whole thing." He motions between them. "And that just seemed like a lot to deal with right now and ...." Eddie trails off. 

"And what?" Buck prompts, eyes still unwaveringly trained on Eddie. 

"I -" Eddie squares his shoulders. "And maybe I didn't hate being your husband, okay?" he snaps, and Buck immediately deflates, his expression going slack with disbelief. 

"What?" he whispers, desperately searching Eddie's face, which is undoubtedly a very undignified shade of red by now. 

"Yeah." Eddie shifts uncomfortably. "I don't know, Buck. I just liked it," he finishes lamely. 

"You liked it?" Buck repeats, and Eddie can't tell if shock or incredulity is more prominent in his voice. 

"Yeah, it's whatever man, we don't have to dwell on it," Eddie attempts to sound casual. 

"Oh no." Buck points at him. "We're talking about it." 

"Okay, that's fair," Eddie agrees weakly. Buck sits down very close to him, still holding Eddie’s hand. 

"So you liked being married?" Buck raises his eyebrows. Eddie gulps. 

"That's not what I said," Eddie disagrees mildly. 

"What did you say then?" Buck narrows his eyes. 

Eddie takes a deep breath. "I said I liked being married to you ." 

"Okay, so, you're making this even more insane, by the way," Buck informs him breathlessly. 

"Oh, well excuse me for being a little bit insane," Eddie replies sarcastically. "God forbid a man goes a little bit crazy after almost dying, forgetting his entire life, and realizing he's in love with his best friend in the span of a few days." The words leave him before Eddie can make a conscious effort to stop them. 

"You - you -" Buck blinks several times, like he's expecting Eddie to be a figment of his imagination and disappear. Eddie, unfortunately, remains very real and rooted to the spot. "Can you repeat that?" Buck asks. 

"I said," Eddie reiterates slowly. "I'm in love with you." 

"Okay." Buck inhales slowly and closes his eyes. "We need to get you to the hospital." 

"What?" Eddie laughs in surprise. 

"You're not - obviously something is wrong." Buck motions at him frantically. "You're having some kind of crisis or something because your brain got fucked up." 

The impulse is there to roll his eyes and bicker with Buck and let themselves get lost in an easy back and forth and avoid it entirely, but Eddie can't bring himself to do it. He's committed to talking about this. It's out there now and there's no taking it back. 

"Buck," Eddie says seriously, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the back of Buck’s hand. "This is not because of the accident - I mean, I guess it sort of is, because apparently I was too dumb to see what I was missing before - but this is real. I meant what I said." 

"No." Buck shakes his head. "You can't." 

And he can't really dig himself deeper than he already has, so Eddie shifts a little closer to Buck until their legs are pressed together from hip to knee. "I could prove it, if you want," Eddie offers, glancing at Buck through his lashes, heartbeat hammering against his ribcage. 

"Eddie, stop." Buck shifts back and stands up again, finally dropping Eddie’s hand. Eddie tries to not let the disappointment show on his face. 

"Why won't you let me be in love with you?" Eddie demands, feeling a little frustrated. What part of this is Buck not understanding? 

"Because!" Buck's voice is high and strained, his eyes wild. " I'm in love with you! I - I have been for years - forever, maybe - and you don't just - you don't get to just - you're straight !" 

Eddie sighs and pushes himself up from the couch. Buck stays where he is, frozen in place, watching Eddie with wide eyes. 

"Buck." Eddie sets his hand on Buck's shoulder and his thumb finds its place against Buck's collarbone. He looks Buck directly in the eyes before he speaks again. "I cannot stress this enough, I am not even a little bit straight. In fact, I'm probably gay, but that's way too much for me to deal with while I'm on pain killers, so if I have to pick one big realization to focus on right now, then it's going to be the most important one: that I'm in love with you." 

"Okay," Buck breathes out shakily, his gaze darting over Eddie's face before finally landing on Eddie's lips. Buck hesitates and Eddie leans incrementally towards him. 

"Are you going to kiss me for real this time?" Eddie asks, their noses almost brushing. 

"That depends," Buck replies, his eyelids already fluttering shut. 

"On what?" Eddie asks. 

"If you're going to ask nicely." Buck smirks and Eddie is so close to being able to taste it. 

"Please kiss me," Eddie whispers, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Buck's neck while Buck's hands settle on his waist. 

It might be physically improbable, but Eddie's pretty sure that he's actually floating as Buck's lips land on his. It's soft and tentative and somehow electrifying at the same time. Energy fizzes through Eddie's veins, and he feels light-headed for a reason that has nothing to do with pain medication side effects. He just holds onto Buck tighter to steady himself. 

Any hesitancy Buck was hanging onto fully dissolves within moments. His hands press more firmly against Eddie's waist and his tongue slips easily into Eddie's mouth and it's everything Eddie never even imagined that he wanted before yesterday. Somehow it feels like he's been waiting his whole life for it anyway. 

They don't separate until Eddie's got his hands under Buck's shirt and is trying to pull him down onto the couch. 

"Wait, - fuck, Eddie - wait," Buck manages to get out between gasping breaths. "We - can't do this here." 

"Why not?" Eddie pouts, his fingers trailing over the bare skin beneath Buck's t-shirt. His touch makes Buck shiver and that has satisfaction singing through Eddie’s veins. 

"It's not good for your back," Buck explains, gradually regaining his ability to speak in full sentences. 

"Oh." Eddie frowns, he sort of entirely forgot that he was dealing with an injury at all. 

"The couch is certainly not approved," Buck says, shooting a glare at the piece of furniture like it's personally offended him. He breaks away from Eddie far enough to take his hand and lead him towards the bedroom instead. 

"Approved?" Eddie asks curiously. 

"Oh yes." Buck nods. "There's a pamphlet." 

"A pamphlet?" Eddie stops in the middle of the hall. "What are you talking about?" 

When Buck turns to face him, his cheeks are bright red. "At the hospital Dr. Jones gave me a pamphlet for, uh," Buck clears his throat. "'Approved activities'," he explains. 

Eddie does his best not to burst out laughing, because Buck looks like he's about to sink into the floor from embarrassment just at the mere mention of the conversation. 

"You had to talk to my doctor about our imaginary sex life?" Eddie asks, fighting to keep a straight face. 

"Yes," Buck groans. "And it was mortifying, so stop looking so pleased about it." 

"Sorry," Eddie apologizes insincerely. "That's hilarious." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Buck mocks defensively. "Would you prefer that I didn't show you the pamphlet, and I just said no to having sex with you entirely because I'm afraid I might literally break your back?" 

"Come on, Buck, no." Eddie holds up a placating hand. "I'm thrilled about the pamphlet." 

"I'm not," Buck mutters under his breath as he pulls Eddie down the hall once more. "You didn't have to experience 'Don't worry, Mr. Buckley, sexual activity can resume as soon as both of you feel ready. As long as it isn't strenuous' ," Buck imitates what must be his attempt at Dr. Jones' voice. "And 'It's important to stay connected during the recovery process. It can often feel isolating for the injured partner, so I want you both to have the tools you need to be confident in your ability to maintain intimacy during this time’ ," Buck recounts with a shudder. 

"That was actually very considerate of her," Eddie points out reasonably, smiling fondly as Buck shakes his head. 

"Ugh, last week you would have commiserated with me about how embarrassing that was!" Buck accuses, shutting the bedroom door behind them with a click. 

"Okay, well last week I wouldn't have been trying to jump you either," Eddie replies, wasting no time in grabbing the hem of Buck's shirt and pulling it upwards. 

"Fine," Buck agrees, obligingly stripping off his shirt before helping Eddie with his. "I guess this is a fair trade off." He ducks his head to press an indulgent kiss to Eddie's lips. 

"I'm glad to hear it." Eddie smiles against Buck's mouth and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. 

"Not yet." Buck sets a hand on Eddie's chest and pushes him away. "Lay down on the bed so I can kiss you properly." 

"Were you holding back before?" Eddie asks, breath catching in his lungs at the idea that the making out in the living room that already left him dizzy and panting wasn't even the best Buck could do. 

“Only one way to find out.” Buck throws Eddie a mischievous grin as he starts taking off his belt and Eddie practically scrambles onto the bed. He pauses for only a second to kick out of his own pants before laying back against the pillows. 

“Wow.” Buck pauses beside the bed, looking down at Eddie with a soft smile on his lips and a look in his eyes that Eddie’s never seen before. 

“What?” Eddie asks quietly. 

“You're beautiful,” Buck murmurs and his face immediately flushes, like he didn't quite mean to let the words slip out. 

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. “No one's ever called me that before.” 

“I’m - shit - sorry,” Buck stammers, but Eddie shakes his head. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around Buck’s wrist. 

“I liked it,” Eddie tells him, feeling his own cheeks heating. It feels like something almost too vulnerable to admit, but it's Buck . It’s just Buck. Eddie can tell him anything. 

“Okay,” Buck whispers, looking pleased and still a little shy. He climbs up onto the bed with Eddie and carefully situates himself. 

“Hey,” Eddie breathes, gazing up at Buck hovering over him, his arms caging in either side of Eddie’s face and his knees bracketing Eddie’s hips. 

“Hi,” Buck says around a smile. 

A nervous little laugh bubbles out of Eddie’s chest as he lifts his arms to loop them around Buck’s neck. 

“This is insane,” he mumbles into Buck’s mouth. “I can’t believe I'm kissing you.” 

“That's the insane part?” Buck laughs and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. “Not you thinking we were married less than twelve hours ago?” 

“No.” Eddie considers for a moment. “I don't think that was insane at all. I meant it when I said I liked being your husband.” 

Buck is uncharacteristically speechless for several seconds but Eddie just maintains steady eye contact. 

“Maybe.” Buck’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Maybe we should give being boyfriends a shot first, huh?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Whatever you want, as long as we’re together.” 

“Yeah.” Buck nods, brushing their noses together. “Yeah, I like the sound of that. Together.” 

“That's how it's supposed to be,” Eddie agrees, pulling Buck in for another kiss and then another and another, until they stop being separate entities at all and flow effortlessly one into another. 

When they finally break apart, Eddie is utterly breathless, but he barely has time to draw breath before Buck’s lips are moving again, tracing over his jaw and down his neck. He pauses just below Eddie’s ear, scraping his teeth along the side of his throat and Eddie gasps and arches up into the sensation. 

“Nope, can't do that,” Buck pulls off to press Eddie back into the bed. “Don't arch like that.” 

“Really, Buck?” Eddie huffs, unimpressed. “I’m sure it's fine.” 

“It's not actually,” Buck insists. “Arching your back can add stress to the muscles around your spine and make them tighten which is the opposite of what you need right now.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes. “You spent at least an hour on Google about this, didn't you?” he accuses, overflowing with affection. 

“I did,” Buck confirms with a nod. “ And I talked to your doctor because you were too out of it to get recovery instructions yourself. So either listen to me or we're waiting until you're completely healed.” 

“Ugh, fine.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “But it doesn't even hurt.” 

“That's because you're on painkillers!” Buck argues sternly, glaring at Eddie, but it doesn't have any edge. 

“I think you just want an excuse to tell me what to do, Mr. Clipboard.” Eddie smiles at him, and Buck raises an eyebrow. 

“You got a problem with that?” 

“Nope.” Eddie smiles wider. “No problems here. Boss me around, Buckley.” 

“My pleasure.” Buck leans in to give him a lingering kiss. “As long as you lay just like that, and stay still, we should be fine.”

"Wow, I'm impressed," Eddie teases. "You didn't even have to consult the pamphlet. You got it memorized already?" 

"Oh, fuck off," Buck huffs, rolling his eyes. Eddie just grins up at him until Buck leans in to kiss it off his face. 

In quick succession, Eddie learns three things: 

1. He's apparently never actually slept with someone he’s sexually attracted to before 
2. Possibly nobody in the history of the world has been as skilled with their mouth as Buck is (though he's just guessing there, but it certainly feels true) 
3. And three, which closely relates to point two, is that it is exceptionally difficult to keep still while experiencing a sexuality-defining blowjob 

“So, I'm definitely gay,” Eddie pants, still catching his breath as he stares up at the ceiling, his skin still tingling while the entire rest of his body is utterly boneless. 

“Yeah?” Buck asks, propped up on one elbow beside him and staring at Eddie fondly. 

“I mean, I was pretty sure before,” Eddie amends. “But you’ve convinced me.” 

“Well I should hope you're sure, you married me after all,” Buck teases. Eddie huffs and swats him lightly in the arm. 

“Speaking of that,” Eddie says, his eyebrows pinching together as he thinks. “Why did the entire hospital staff think you were my husband?” 

Buck shifts beside him, looking sheepish. “Uh, well, you can thank Bobby for that one.” 

“Bobby?” Eddie asks in surprise. Bobby is the last person he’d expect to lie to medical professionals on Buck’s behalf. 

“Yeah, we didn't think I’d be able to spend the night with Chris unless I was immediate family, so Bobby handed me his safety band, and we all just acted like we were married. I was already listed as your emergency contact so nobody questioned it.” 

“Huh.” Eddie considers that for a moment. “Well that makes sense, and thank you for doing that, by the way.” 

“Thank you?” Buck’s face screws up in confusion. “You're thanking me for lying to you?” 

“No,” Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m thanking you for doing whatever it takes to be there for Chris,” he adds seriously, reaching out to lay a hand on Buck’s forearm. 

“Oh,” Buck breathes, eyes downcast. “Of course, always.” He shrugs, like it's no big deal, which is absolutely unacceptable. Eddie lifts his hand to cup Buck’s chin instead. 

“Hey,” he says softly, bringing their gazes together. “You're a good dad.” 

“Eddie, I - I’m not -” Buck’s eyes are wide, almost panicked. 

“You are ,” Eddie says firmly, swiping his thumb along Buck’s cheekbone. “You have to know that's how I see you - how he sees you. You're family already, Buck. You have been for a long time.” 

Buck swallows, and Eddie can see the wetness gathering in his eyes. 

“Come here,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck obeys immediately, moving close enough for Eddie to bring their lips together in a slow, gentle kiss. 

“I love you,” Buck breathes against his lips, voice a little unsteady. 

“And I love you.” Eddie kisses him again for emphasis. 

The rest of the day passes in a pleasant haze, Eddie is still tired and he still feels like he’s floating, although if that's from the Codeine or the feeling of being openly in love with his best friend, Eddie isn't sure. He decides it's the latter, because that's more romantic. 

Buck cuddles up to him on the couch for most of the afternoon, running his fingers through Eddie’s hair and pressing little kisses to his forehead and the side of his neck, like his love alone can cure Eddie. Eddie thinks it probably can. 

Around one in the afternoon, Buck abandons him for the kitchen, and Eddie only agrees to let him go because he's been promised a batch of chocolate chip cookies. He falls asleep within minutes of Buck standing up, and he sleeps through until he’s woken by the smell of fresh baking. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” Buck says, standing over Eddie with a plate in one hand. 

“Hi,” Eddie responds sleepily, blinking slowly up at Buck. 

“You want to keep sleeping?” Buck asks.

“I want cookies.” Eddie sits up so fast it cricks his neck, and he grimaces. 

“Careful,” Buck chuckles, sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He sets the plate of cookies on his lap and Eddie doesn't hesitate to reach for one. 

“Buck, this is incredible,” Eddie sighs around a mouthful of still-warm cookie and gooey chocolate. 

“I know.” Buck smiles and presses his lips to Eddie’s cheek. “They're your favourite.” 

“Mmhm,” Eddie hums contentedly and leans closer into Buck’s warmth. 

“Wow,” Eddie remarks, halfway through his second cookie. “Having a boyfriend is great.” 

Buck laughs. “I baked you stuff when I was just your best friend too!” 

“That’s true,” Eddie concedes. He chews thoughtfully for a moment. “Having a Buck is great. Husband, boyfriend, best friend, whatever, I just like having you around.” 

“And I like being around,” Buck agrees, leaning in to kiss a bit of chocolate off the corner of Eddie's lips. “For the record, I think having an Eddie is pretty great too.” 

“You’ll make me blush,” Eddie complains. 

“You're already blushing.” Buck grins. 

“Oh, alright then.” Eddie shrugs, remarkably unbothered at the prospect.

“Alright,” Buck echoes, his nose scrunching up adorably and Eddie leans in to kiss it. 

“Do you think we're insufferable?” he muses later, when Buck is curled up in his lap and Eddie is absentmindedly coiling his curls around his fingers. 

“I think we were already insufferable,” Buck reasons into Eddie’s stomach. 

“That's probably true.” 

“Actually.” Buck sits up enough to look at Eddie. “Last night I was kinda freaking out in the groupchat about you thinking I was your husband, and Ravi said, and I quote, ‘How is that different than any other day'. ” 

Eddie laughs and tousles Buck’s hair. “He may have a point.” 

“I know,” Buck grumbles. “But it's still rude to point it out when I was suffering .” 

“Aw,” Eddie tuts sympathetically. “But you were being very brave about it. I couldn't even tell you were freaking out!” 

“That's not saying much,” Buck mutters, settling his head back on Eddie’s lap. “I'm pretty sure you’ve been high for the last 48-hours straight, I’m not trusting your observation skills.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Eddie dismisses playfully. “I feel great.” 

“Exactly,” Buck replies. “That's what worries me.” 

Eddie laughs. “Never fear, I'm sure I’ll start spiraling in a couple of weeks when I’m feeling better.” 

“And I’ll be there when you do.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s knee. 

“I know you will.” Since he can't bend down, Eddie presses a kiss to his fingers before returning them to Buck’s temple. “Mi amor,” he adds in a whisper. 

Buck giggles and hides his face against Eddie’s legs, though not before Eddie catches sight of his brilliant grin or the blush that spreads across his entire face like wildfire. 

“Eddie,” Buck mumbles. “You're not really going to start calling me that, are you?” 

“Why not?” Eddie challenges. “It's true.” 

Buck groans and burrows further into Eddie’s lap, lifting one arm to cover his face. 

“I don't have to, if you don't like it,” Eddie says, though it's an empty threat. 

“Hey, no, I didn't say that,” Buck protests, peering out behind his forearm to catch Eddie’s eye. 

Eddie smiles triumphantly down at him. “Good.” 

It doesn't take long before Buck is lulled to sleep by the slow, steady motion of Eddie’s fingers against his scalp, and Eddie takes the opportunity to look at his phone for the first time in days. He swipes past the endless stream of notifications on his screen and clicks through to open the family group chat. 

Ohana Means 118 

Eddie: look who decided to repay the favour 

[image attached of Buck with his cheek squished as he sleeps in Eddie’s lap] 

Maddie loved an image. 

Maddie : Glad to see he’s getting some rest too after last night 

Maddie: And welcome back, Eddie! 

Karen: Welcome back Eddie, you were missed! 🩷

Eddie loved 2 messages. 

Ravi replied to an image. 

Ravi: recovered enough to be just as pathetic as your husband I see 

Eddie: I take that as a compliment 😌

Chim: Wow …. no objection to the husband part of that insult? 

Eddie : none whatsoever 

Hen: Welcome back, Eddie, love you, also what the fuck? 

Eddie: 😇

Athena: Is a celebration finally in order? 

Chimney : We are not throwing them a party for those dumbasses finally having sex with each other 

Karen: Who said they had sex? Eddie is recovering 

Eddie : thank you, Karen. get your mind out of the gutter, Chim 

Buck: idk I thought it was party worthy 

Maddie: ew ? 

Eddie: You were supposed to stay asleep. You looked so cute ☹️

Buck: oh, so I don't look cute awake? 🥺

Eddie: you look SO cute awake

Chimney reacted 🤢to a message. 

Ravi: didn't Eddie just send us evidence that ur on the couch together? why are u texting each other and subjecting us to this debauchery? 

Buck : ur being really homophobic right now, Rav :/ 

Ravi: I’m literally pan 😭

Bobby: I think a party is a great idea, just as soon as Eddie is feeling better. We can celebrate his recovery as well - Bobby Nash 

Buck loved a message. 

Eddie loved a message. 

Eddie : thanks, cap

Bobby: good to have you back 😊 I have something waiting for you on your first day back, but no rush, of course - Bobby Nash 

Eddie: ….. is it HR paperwork? 

Bobby : it is 🙂- Bobby Nash 

Maddie, Chimney, Ravi, Karen, Hen, Eddie, Buck, and Athena laughed at a message. 

Eddie : aye, aye Captain 🫡

“Do you think we’ll have cake?” Buck asks, pushing himself up to sit beside Eddie. 

“It's a party at Bobby and Athena’s, of course we'll have cake,” Eddie answers confidently. 

“Do you think we get to pick out the flavour because it's for us?” Buck asks hopefully. Eddie laughs and takes his hand. 

“I’m sure we could weasel our way into that.”

“Good.” Buck nods, satisfied. “I want that chocolate praline one that Bobby makes.” 

“Mm that's my favourite too,” Eddie agrees. 

Buck tilts his head to look at Eddie. “Funny how that works, isn't it?” 

“What?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“How all of your favourite things are my favourite things too,” Buck clarifies, staring at Eddie looking utterly lovesick. 

Eddie doubts he looks much different himself and his nose scrunches up as he bumps their knees together. “Yeah, I think it works out pretty well.” 

“Me too,” Buck agrees happily. He leans in for a kiss and then one more and then Eddie’s got his arms around Buck’s neck and Buck’s got one leg thrown over Eddie’s lap and they don't resurface for several minutes. 

“Time to go.” Buck pulls away reluctantly, wrestling his phone out of his pocket to shut off his reminder alarm. “I gotta pick up Chris.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Eddie volunteers immediately, having absolutely no interest in being separated from Buck or his son for longer than necessary. 

“Oh good.” Buck beams at him like Eddie just offered him the world, rather than a 15-minute drive in rush hour together. “You can pick the music.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow you really must feel bad for me if you're letting me DJ.” 

Buck rolls his eyes. “Come on, I let you pick the music allll the time.” 

“Yeah right,” Eddie huffs. “Is the all the time in the room with us right now?” 

“Wow,” Buck deadpans. “I can't believe we have to break up. My boyfriend is so mean to me.” 

“Is he?” Eddie asks, feigning curiosity. “Where is he? I’ll go fight him for you. No one gets to be mean to my best friend.” 

Buck shakes his head and huffs affectionately. “Put your shoes on, dumbass.” 

Eddie swats lightly at Buck’s bicep, but obligingly puts his shoes and sunglasses on and gets into the car. 

True to his word, Buck lets Eddie pick the music and, despite the big deal Buck always makes about it, they have pretty much the same taste in music, so he ends up singing along and bopping his head to each song selection. Eddie loves him so much he feels a little queasy. Or maybe that's the stop and go of the traffic and the fact that Eddie hasn't put anything in his stomach but cookies and pain killers in the last several hours. 

“You good?” Buck glances over at him when Eddie neglects to join in for his boisterous sing-along to the chorus of What I Like About You by The Romantics. 

“I'm okay.” Eddie smiles tightly at him and clasps his hands a little tighter together on his lap. 

“You look a little green,” Buck observes warily. 

“I’m fine,” Eddie insists. 

“Jesus, Eddie, you haven't even had your memories back for a full day and you're already repressing the shit out of everything you feel.” 

Eddie purses his lips and throws Buck an unimpressed glance. 

“Luckily for you,” Buck goes on, unphased. “I am fantastic at reading you.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “I know you are.” 

“We’ll stop for a snack after we pick up Chris.” Buck reaches over to pat his knee. “Hang in there.” 

When they make it to the school, Eddie gets out of the Jeep to greet Chris with a hug. He knows he only saw him last night, but it feels different seeing his son now that he's got all his memories back. He squeezes Chris so tightly that he's met with a muttered “Dad, let go, all my friends are here,” after he's clung on a few seconds too long. 

“Sorry,” Eddie apologizes, releasing Chris with a kiss to the top of his head. “I just remembered how much I missed you.” 

Chris gives him a searching look. “Yeah?” he asks tentatively. “You remember anything else?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie answers gently. “I remember everything.” 

“Oh good,” Chris breathes a sigh of relief and, to Eddie’s surprise, steps forward to give him another quick hug. “I'm so glad you're back.” 

“Me too.” Eddie pats his shoulder. “Although, I thought I remembered you asking Buck if you could keep me like that forever?” Eddie teases once they get back in the car. 

Christopher freezes in the back seat, like it's only just caught up with him that Eddie still remembers everything from the previous day on top of all of his other memories. 

“Well,” Chris says slowly. “You were a lot more laid back.” 

“I was,” Eddie agrees. “But I think I can handle being a little more uptight if the trade off is having all of my memories intact.” 

“A little more might be generous,” Buck teases. 

“Excuse you,” Eddie fires back. “I think I’ve been acting extremely calm and well adjusted today, in light of everything.” 

“You actually have,” Buck concedes. “You didn't even agonize over whether you deserved to eat a second cookie or not.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“You made cookies?” Chris asks expectantly. 

“Yup.” Buck nods. “Chocolate chip.” 

“Nice! Those are the best ones.” 

“I know, that's why I made them, duh,” Buck replies. 

“Not true,” Chris disagrees. “You made them because they're Dad’s favourite.” 

“Uh, okay, well two things can be true at once,” Buck argues. 

“In some cases,” Eddie agrees. “But in this case Chris is right, and you made them because you love me.” 

“See! Even real dad knows you’re a massive sap.” 

“Real dad?” Eddie asks, bemused. “Who was I yesterday?” 

“I dunno.” Chris shrugs. “Amnesia dad.” 

“That sounds like a horrible superhero,” Buck cuts in. “His only power is forgetting to pack your lunch.” 

Chris and Eddie laugh, and the rest of the drive is spent debating what kind of superpowers a hero named Amnesia Dad would have. In the end, they determine that he would actually be a supervillain and live in a castle made of green Jell-o. 

“Wait, why aren't we going home?” Chris asks as they pull into the parking lot of the café Buck and Eddie usually stop at on the way home from work.

“We have to stop to get food for your dad or he’s going to die,” Buck announces dramatically. 

“You didn't eat lunch either,” Eddie grumbles. 

“Sorry,” Buck amends. “We have to get food or we're both going to die. Your dad because he needs sustenance and me because he’ll bite my head off while he’s hangry,” he adds in an undertone. 

Chris cackles, and Eddie crosses his arms. 

“I do not get hangry,” Eddie protests, then realizes he’s pouting when Buck raises a pointed eyebrow at him. “Whatever,” Eddie mutters, dutifully following Buck and Chris into the café. 

They order sandwiches and drinks, and Chris disappears to the washroom while Buck and Eddie wait for their orders to arrive at the table. 

“So,” Buck asks, keeping his voice low despite Chris being well out of earshot. “I know we didn't really discuss it, but did you, uh, want to keep doing the whole ‘just best friends’ thing around him until you're feeling better? I don't want you to feel like you have to tell him anything before you're ready.” 

There's warmth in Eddie’s chest as he looks at Buck’s expression. He’s so painfully genuine that Eddie knows Buck would wait as long as he asked. 

“No, Buck, I don't want to wait.” Eddie reaches out to take Buck’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Besides, I’m pretty sure after the things he said yesterday, Christopher is more than fine with us being in a relationship.” 

“I guess.” Buck shrugs. “He could have just been playing along for the love of the game.” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but before he can disagree, Chris returns to settle the matter. 

“Dad, are you sure you remember everything ?” Chris asks skeptically, looking between Eddie and Buck and their joined hands resting on the table top between them. 

“Yup,” Buck confirms. “I’ve been demoted.” 

“To boyfriend,” Eddie explains. 

“Ugh,” Chris groans. “You guys are ridiculous.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, smiling softly at Buck. “But that's fine with me.” 

“Me too,” Buck echoes, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

“Oh, and gross.” Chris pulls a face. 

“I thought you wanted us to be your super gay dads who were super gay and married and in love yesterday?” Eddie reminds him. 

“Yeah, well that was before you were doing gross things like kissing in public.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” Eddie teases with an over exaggerated nudge to Buck’s shoulder. “We kiss way more in the privacy of our own home.” 

“Ew, stop it,” Chris pleads. 

“Oh no,” Eddie counters. “You wanted us to be together, this is what you have to put up with now.” 

“Yeah,” Buck adds. “Careful what you wish for, kid.” 

“Fine, whatever,” Chris relents and then his expression softens. “I’m actually really happy for you guys, just for the record,” he admits quietly. “But if you ever bring it up again I’ll deny it profusely.” 

“Noted,” Eddie says seriously. 

“That seems fair,” Buck agrees with a solemn nod. 

“Thanks, bud.” Eddie reaches out and lays his free hand on Christopher's shoulder. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Chris says with a shrug. “And Buck.” 

Buck does a very poor job of hiding his sniffle behind his coffee cup and Eddie has to wipe at the corner of his own eyes. 

The rest of the evening is exceptionally ordinary. It just feels like a regular night between the three of them. Buck makes dinner while Chris does homework at the kitchen table. They play video games until Eddie's head hurts, and then Buck forces them to go on a leisurely walk around the block ‘to clear your head’, but Eddie doesn't think that's scientifically proven. 

It's another early night, and this time, when they get ready for bed, there's no question about where Buck will be staying. He slots into bed beside Eddie like he’s been doing it for years already. 

“You know,” Eddie says around a yawn, shuffling back into Buck’s embrace. 

“What?” Buck asks, nudging Eddie’s ear with his nose. 

“Of all the near death experiences we’ve had, I think this one definitely had the best outcome.” 

“Mmm,” Buck hums. “I’d have to agree.” 

“Just imagine if I hadn't lost all my memories, then where would we be?” Eddie wonders aloud. 

“I know where I’d be,” Buck says. 

“Where?” 

“Down the hall on the couch.” Buck’s lips brush against the side of Eddie’s neck as he speaks.

“And I know where I’d be,” Eddie replies. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmmhm,” he confirms sleepily. “I’d be lying here alone and telling myself that I wasn't wishing that you were in bed with me.” 

“Really?” Buck asks, sounding surprised. 

“I didn't just realize I was in love with you, Buck,” Eddie tells him gently. “I just wasn't brave enough to do anything about it until I didn't know to be afraid anymore.” 

“Oh, Eddie,” Buck breathes, squeezing him tight. He sounds a little sad, and Eddie can't have that, so he keeps talking. 

“Turns out there was never anything to be afraid of.” Eddie lifts one of Buck’s hands from around his middle to press a kiss to it instead. 

“I was scared too,” Buck admits. 

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, brushing his lips along Buck’s knuckles. “Pretty stupid of us to be spending all of that time worrying about it when we could have had this.” 

“I don't know,” Buck says thoughtfully. “I’m sort of glad it all worked out this way.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie inquires quietly, his eyelids growing heavy. 

“You have to admit, it's one hell of a story,” Buck points out. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “It really is.” 

“Eddie?” 

“Mhm?”

“I forgot to tell you something,” Buck admits softly. 

“What was that?” Eddie mumbles into his pillow. 

“I liked being your husband too.” 

Eddie falls asleep with a smile on his face.