#A bit of Eddie introspection before the next episode when I'm about to be so on my Bobby bullshit

[some-little-infamy]

Nostalgic for Disaster

(Read on AO3)

Eddie made a mistake.

Okay, Eddie made a series of mistakes, one terrible choice after another that brought him to this moment, the culmination of a day’s worth of regrets.

The first one was going back to look at the woman from the shop, Kim. The second was talking to her, and the third was flirting with her. The fourth was inviting her to dinner, and the fifth was actually going. He supposes there’s a sixth in there, arguably the worst of them all - ignoring the way that seeing Kim brings back such visceral memories of Shannon.

The longer this dinner goes on, the stronger those flashes of memory become. Sometimes it’s a smile, or the glint of Kim’s eyes. Her mannerisms and speech cadence are completely different, but that doesn’t stop Eddie from latching onto every minute similarity.

The more he does, the more guilty he feels about it - about being here with Kim for all the wrong reasons. He’s in a relationship, one committed enough that they nearly moved in together. And he lied to Christopher and Buck about who he was going out with, more or less. He never said it was with Marisol, but obviously they assumed, and he didn’t correct them.

So Eddie orders a drink with dinner - a strong one. And then a second with appetizers, a third with the entree, and two more before dessert and the check comes.

He isn’t sure he’s getting what he wants out of this. All he’s done is spiral, too busy clinging to a lost past to properly enjoy the conversation he’s having, even if he smiles and laughs in all the right places.

“Do you need a ride home?” Kim asks at the end of the night. Six words and Eddie knows that whatever he thinks he’s doing here isn’t working. She must sense his distance and distraction, or maybe it’s the way his words are starting to slur now, eyes glazing over from the liquor.

He’s about to agree when he thinks through what that would mean. He’s going to need to get his car the next day, which he’d have to explain to Buck when he drops off Christopher… which is if he can even keep Christopher overnight. Eddie only asked about a few hours…

“No. I can…” he trails off, trying to think through the slight haze around his thoughts. “I’ll get a ride.” “I’ll wait with you until it comes,” Kim says. It isn’t a question, and Eddie doesn’t argue, though it limits his options to an uber that he can’t afford (going to a restaurant way outside of town and away from anyone who may recognize him seemed like a good idea at the time), or a favor from a friend who may or may not keep this secret for him.

Well, what’s one more questionable decision to tack onto the list.

Eddie hits two buttons on his phone and waits.

“Tommy? Hey. I need a favor.”

-------------

Tommy pulls up half an hour later, window rolled down, the upper half of his body leaning out the window to chastise Eddie the second he hits the brakes.

“I know the helicopter ride was my idea, but I’m going to have to start charging you if you make a habit out of-” Tommy starts, but trails off seeing the woman standing behind Eddie with her arm around his waist. Tommy doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to - his look says it all.

“Thanks, Tommy,” Eddie manages. He’s starting to sober up a bit, the air from waiting outside helping. “Sorry.”

“I offered to take him home myself but he was very insistent on calling you,” the woman adds, sounding confused, as if she hopes saying it out loud will get an explanation as to why from either of the men.

It doesn’t.

“I’ll, uh, text you later. It was really good to see you Sha… Kim,” Eddie hopes the name slip comes across as nothing more than a drunken stumble.

“Get home safe,” she replies, something safe and noncommittal. Eddie doesn’t blame her. Eddie doesn’t blame anyone other than himself.

Once she’s sure Eddie can manage the walk to the passenger side of Tommy’s car on his own Kim turns to leave, and he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to see her again.

Eddie gets into the car, buckles, and focuses on a few deep breaths to stop the swirling surroundings once the truck starts moving. They drive in silence for thirty seconds… a full minute… two minutes…

“So,” Tommy starts finally. “You gonna tell me what that was all about?”

“I got too drunk to drive home,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, that bit is pretty obvious. I mean the part where you were on a date with someone who isn’t Marisol.” Tommy keeps his eyes on the road ahead while he speaks, probably more for Eddie’s benefit than his own. “That I’m guessing Evan doesn’t know about since you called me instead of him.”

“Evan’s watching Christopher…” Eddie tries to deflect.

“So Evan knows?” Tommy re-words, not giving Eddie the easy out.

“No,” Eddie admits, turning his head to look out the passenger window. “I’m not cheating, you know. It isn’t like we’re…” “Living together? You were about a week ago, so it isn’t like you two aren’t serious. Too serious to be sneaking around behind her back with another woman, I’m guessing, which is why you felt the need to hide it.”

“I know. It’s also why I ended up drinking my way through dinner,” Eddie sighs. “It was a mistake.”

“Glad you know that,” Tommy says. “If you don’t want to be with her, just tell her. Don’t do… whatever this is. Neither of you deserve that.”

It isn’t judgy. Tommy, bless him, isn’t like that - at least not with Eddie. What Tommy’s good at is being honest in a way that doesn’t pull any punches but also doesn’t deal any low blows.

There’s more silence after that. Eddie doesn’t have a response. He isn’t sure Tommy’s looking for one. They’re a few minutes away from Eddie’s place when Tommy finally talks again.

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” Tommy asks. When Eddie looks over to him with a rueful half-smile, Tommy sighs. “I’m your plan for tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Please?” Eddie practically begs. “I’ll pay for gas. You can even stay here for the night, so you don’t have to drive back and forth.”

“I take it that means you don’t plan on telling Evan?” Tommy questions.

Eddie frowns. “Are you going to tell him?” It comes out more pleading than questioning, praying Tommy can keep this one thing from Buck.

“I’m not going to lie to him,” Tommy starts slowly. “But, I won’t offer the information. If he doesn’t ask, I won’t tell.”

Eddie considers arguing the point, but honestly, it’s a better deal than he deserves.

“And what about the ride back?” Eddie asks, feeling like he’s pushing his luck.

“I get the bed,” Tommy replies without hesitation. “And you seriously consider telling Evan about this on your own. He’s your best friend, and you obviously have some things to talk through.”

Eddie sighs. “Deal.”

-------------

Eddie spends half the night sick to his stomach from the alcohol, going back and forth from the sofa to the bathroom at least half a dozen times. If it keeps Tommy up he doesn't say anything about it when he gently shakes Eddie awake at the crack of dawn to go get Eddie's car before it gets towed.

“Thanks again, Tommy. I don't know what came over me yesterday.” It's only a half-lie. Eddie might know what came over him, but he doesn't understand it.

Tommy spares him any further chastising. “Take care of yourself, Eddie,” is all he says before driving off, leaving Eddie with a long car ride back in the morning traffic rush to sit with his own thoughts and the events of the past 24 hours.

He's no better off when he gets to Buck's than he was when Tommy left him.

“Looks like someone had a long night,” Buck greets with a smirk.

“You can say that again,” Eddie mutters, but his frown quickly turns to a grin aa he walks in to the sight of Christopher with whipped cream on the corner of his mouth, a plate of half-eaten waffles in front of him.

“Those look like they're more dessert than breakfast,” Eddie observes, eyeing the chocolate syrup they're slathered with.

“Waffles are breakfast, dad,” Christopher insists, as if this fact is too obvious to be questioned. The ‘duh’ isn't spoken but heavily implied by his tone.

“Of course. Sorry I dared to question you.”

“So I guess not living together is working out for you two,” Buck says, and Eddie tenses. Every word Buck says hits like a punch to the gut at the secret he's keeping and how every word Eddie speaks feels like a lie even when it isn't.

He gets how Buck could only live with the guilt of keeping his own secret for a day before needing to come clean and tell Eddie - this is torture.

It's entirely self-inflicted torture at that. Eddie may believe he deserves it, but Buck certainly doesn't deserve the deceit, especially since he's the one being nice enough to watch Christopher while Eddie is out losing his goddamn mind, apparently.

“Hey Christopher, why don't you play some video games when you're done eating until it's time to go?” Eddie suggests.

Christopher agrees eagerly, rushing his last bites to ensure as much gaming time as possible before Eddie changes his mind.

Buck raises an eyebrow. Eddie nods back towards Buck’s bedroom and the two silently slip away from the distracted Christopher, Eddie shutting the door behind him.

Buck doesn't ask what's wrong, waiting for Eddie to initiate whatever conversation he needs to have here. If only Eddie knew what that was.

He figures he should start with the truth.

“I wasn’t with Marisol.”

Eddie waits, watching Buck absorbing that statement, his face shifting from confusion to worry, eyeing Eddie up and down, his gaze lingering on any exposed skin.

“You're not fighting again, ah, are you?” Buck asks.

“What? No! Of course not,” Eddie reassures him, that potentiality never even crossing his mind.

Buck relaxes for just a second, not bothering to hide the relief that answer gives him.

“Who were you with?” Buck asks. Eddie sees how hard he’s trying to sound neutral, simply curious rather than concerned, though it shows through the cracks all the same. “Her name is Kim,” Eddie says.

“...okay.” Buck says, understanding slowly dawning on him as he processes.

“It was just dinner,” Eddie’s quick to say.

“Was it a date?” Buck asks.

“It was a mistake,” Eddie says, not directly answering Buck’s question. “Nothing happened.”

“But you wanted it to.”

It isn’t a question, and Eddie doesn’t volunteer an answer.

“Why? I know things were rough with the nun stuff, and the moving in, but I thought you two were past that.”

“We were - we are.” “Okay,” Buck starts again slowly. “Then… why?”

A great question, Eddie thinks to himself.

If anyone is going to understand, if anyone is going to get it, it’s Buck. Buck is his best friend. Buck is the person Eddie’s trusted with not only his own life, but Christopher’s. So it seems fitting that he trust Buck with this, too.

“She looks like Shannon,” Eddie says, the confession barely above a whisper.

Buck freezes, sensing the dangerous waters this conversation is entering. “Eddie…” “If I didn’t know any better…” Eddie’s suddenly far away, remembering how it felt to sit across from her at dinner. He’s too distracted by a mixture of mourning and longing to notice Buck’s look shift to proper worry. “Being with her is just… I can’t stay away. I don’t want to stay away. It’s like she never left.”

“But she did, Eddie. She died,” Buck reminds him gently, as if he could ever forget.

Except he can, when he's with Kim. It's like the accident never happened at times.

“I know that. I know it isn’t her… but it’s the closest I’ve felt to her since she left. It’s like… it’s like part of her is still here. Like she never left. ” Eddie hears how desperate he sounds now that he says it out loud, his words laced with an underlying tremor as he speaks. “I don’t want to lose her again.” A tear escapes Eddie’s rapidly blinking eyes, unable to keep down the swell of emotion that rises up with the admission.

“Hey, hey,” Buck says, wrapping an arm around Eddie. “She isn’t Shannon. Whatever feelings you have when you, you're with this woman, they’re from your memories. You haven’t lost them.”

Eddie’s breathing comes short and sharp, and he has to focus very hard to even it back out, staving off his rising panic.

“You can’t keep seeing her just to remember Shannon. It, it isn’t fair to you, or her… or to Marisol,” Buck adds.

Eddie fights the urge to grow defensive, to insist he hasn’t hurt anyone other than himself, but after a moment seems to deflate in on himself. “I know.”

“I know,” Eddie repeats, not sure who he's trying to convince more - Buck, or himself.