#(also i know that dudefailure is using his dad lines to flirt because he is a hopeless pathetic little guy)
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It's a couple of months after his breakdown when Eddie comes home from therapy to a suspiciously quiet house. Luckily, he and Frank had spent the session working on his anxiety, so he takes a deep breath and begins listing all the things Buck and Christopher could be doing as he goes in search for them.
They could be asleep on the couch, it wouldn't be the first time the early birds had crashed midday from fun, but Eddie finds the couch empty as soon as the thought forms. They could be doing homework at the table, drawing more hearts or puzzling over algebra equations, but the table is empty of its usual clutter. They could be eating in the kitchen, unlikely as neither of them have ever let mouths full of food stop them from chattering away, and he's proven right at a barren kitchen.
The panic rises and crests in his chest like a wave, but he takes another deep breath, reminds himself that the safest place in the world for Christopher is Buck's side.
They could be in the yard tending to their little vegetable garden, but Eddie peeks out to lonely tomato plants swaying in the gentle summer breeze. They could be rearranging Christopher's room again, possibly side-tracked by Christopher's old drawings or Lego creations, but the room is exactly as he'd left it this morning.
Its when Eddie presses his forehead into the doorframe to ground himself that he hears it. A sniffle coming from beyond the cracked bathroom door.
"Okay, buddy," that's Buck's voice, soft and unendingly gentle in a way that makes something behind Eddie's sternum pulse and ache. Eddie drifts towards it, helpless to resist the pull.
"Are you sure we shouldn't wait for dad?" Chris asks, voice a little shaky however it is when he's just finished crying. The wave of panic crests again, but Eddie nudges the door open and the wave collapses into foam.
Christopher is perched on the closed toilet, both legs of his jeans rolled up to above his scraped knees, eyes wide and trusting despite his words. And Buck. Buck is crouched in front of him with the first aid kit open at his feet and an expression so tender it takes Eddie's breath away.
"We can, if you want," Buck concedes, trying and failing to conceal just the slightest bit of hurt. Eddie sees it as he sees the guilt lining the tense line of Buck's shoulders, as he sees the anguish swimming in Buck's own teary eyes. "But I specialise in scratches." He grins, wide and way too bright for the fluorescent lights of the bathroom to compete. He lowers his voice, winks, "its all Hen and Chim trust me with on the job."
Christopher's hiccupping giggle is the best sound Eddie has ever heard. And, judging by the way Buck looks up at Chris like the sound fell from heaven, he agrees. Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to. Not with the way Buck looks kneeling in front of his son, like this is some sort of worship and penance all at once, eyes softer than Eddie has ever seen them.
"Okay, superman," Buck cups the back of Christopher's shin with hands so big his fingers could meet around his leg, with hands so gentle Eddie has the fleeting desire to feel them on himself. "Doesn't look like there's anything in there, but I'm gonna pour a bit of water over them first to wash anything away. Does that sound okay?"
"Yeah," Chris nods solemnly, and Buck smiles up at him as he reaches for the cup on the sink.
Carefully, Buck pours a cup of water over both scrapes, stopping every time Chris so much as twitches, and Eddie aches. He dries them off with a clean towel, gentler still than Eddie knew a human of Buck's size could be, then reaches for the alcohol-free wipes.
"Okay, I'm gonna make sure they're super clean," Buck murmurs, side-profile illuminated by the afternoon light cutting through the bathroom window, angelic and divine. Eddie has the insane urge to pull his phone out and capture the moment forever. "It might be a little sore, so just tell me if you need to stop." Chris nods again, and Buck uses his free hand to grab Christopher's and drop it onto his curls. "Squeeze as tight as you like, and, if I'm too rough, give me a tug in revenge."
Eddie can't decide which is more beautiful: Christopher's laugh or the smile it provokes in Buck. Both of them are bright and joyful things that make Eddie want to fall to his knees in his own kind of worship. He watches as Buck starts wiping away at the scratches, slow and soft and oh so tender it hurts Eddie himself. Chris waits patiently, bravely until Buck drops one wipe and then tugs on his hair.
"Ow!" Buck yelps, pouting up at Christopher who shakes with silent laughter. "What was that for?" When the only answer is a bubbling laugh, Buck's face twitches into a grin like he just can't help it. Eddie understands, doesn't think there's anything more contagious than Buck and Christopher's joy. "Knee number two, no tugging please, sir." And Eddie thinks that some people might forget to be so gentle after that, but Buck only gets more so.
He drops the wipes into the trash before grabbing a gauze pad and pressing it to Christopher's knee. He waits for a beat or two, undoubtedly watching for blood that might soak through even though the wipes came away mostly clean. Buck tapes the edges down and then moves onto the second knee.
And, look, Eddie knows Buck is a first responder, has seen and treated worse than this on a daily basis, but the ease with which he treats Christopher makes Eddie's stomach clench. Especially, when Buck absently rubs his thumbs over the skin of Christopher's legs like its as natural as breathing.
"Almost done," Buck whispers before leaning down to leave a big, smacking kiss on each bandage. Eddie aches. "There we go, now they'll heal faster and you can go back to being superman in no time."
"Thanks, Buck." Chris leans forward for a hug, and Buck catches him effortlessly.
Eddie watches the guilt creep into Buck's expression as he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face into Christopher's hair. When Buck takes a deep breath, Eddie copies him and tries not to get too flustered when Buck's worried eyes flutter open and land on him. A few months ago, Eddie would've shuttered, would have wiped his face clean of the dizzyingly intense array of emotions on display. But now, Eddie lets Buck see, lets him see that he's not in trouble, that Eddie is so grateful for him it hurts, lets him see the admiration and the softness, lets him see the overwhelming love Eddie feels for him right then and there, always and anywhere.
Buck lets Eddie see it all too.
#sami rambles#i specialise in scratches is rapidly becoming just another line that makes me want to tear all my flesh off my body#and i couldn't get this image out of my head so here#(also i know that dudefailure is using his dad lines to flirt because he is a hopeless pathetic little guy)#911 spoilers#911 spec#911 fic#911 fox#911 show#911 fanfic#buddie#buck x eddie#buck and christopher#buckley diaz family#evan buckley#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#buddie fic#buddie fanfic#buck x eddie fic#buckley diaz family fic
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