#Tommy picks up because that is *his* habit - to always go when Buck calls

[wallabywhump]

Post Episode 8x08 CODA/Continuation

Content: Light angst, Buck spiralling, Buck's abandonment issues/running thoughts/(has ADHD), BuckTommy hints at the end.

Word Count: 1,965

Started writing this when the episode ended, please enjoy!

---

The sign goes out front of Eddie's house two weeks later, Buck helps to dig the hole. Buck helps talk to the realtor. Buck talks Eddie down from a three-bed home with an attic office in a HOA suburb and helps him find a respectably sized two bed that will leave him with money to renovate the bathroom and add a ramp up to the door.

Buck bakes a million cookies and eats them while Eddie has meetings with realtors. He sets out sweet breads and muffins when Eddie has an open house, and he happily serves them to people, "yes, there is a gluten free option! I was playing around with xanthan gum, so it shouldn't- oh, you're too kind."

All through it all, Buck focuses on Eddie, and he tries to ignore the ball of panic that's growing and growing and growing, as Eddie calls his mom and dad, and talks to Chris, and they're discussing going to view the home together and-

"I'll be there in two days, buddy!" Eddie says to Chris, a smile wide on his face while he put the autographed picture of the Hotshots cast into a wallet to keep it safe. "I can't wait to see you; we can talk without it lagging."

Buck takes a deep breath.

"Buck's not coming, LA won't survive if we both are off work."

Buck takes the butter off the heat, starts mixing in the sugar.

"I was talking it over with Grandpa, and we can go to the aquarium while I'm there. I'll even get to cheer you on in your chess match."

Chris groans. "You don't cheer during chess matches, dad, you have to be quiet."

Eddie laughs, and Buck needs to savor that sound. Needs to bottle up the sound of his best friend, and the kid he loves to the moon and back, teasing each other because he doesn't know how long he'll have this for. "Well, okay, you'll just have to teach me what to do, Mijo. I've never been to a chess match before."

The flour comes out of the microwave and Buck mixes that in, the soothing fold-fold-fold making his raging heart beat easier to ignore.

"You've never played chess before," Chris teases.

Buck spares a glance at Eddie, and he's fondly smiling at the tablet, and he says, "Well, you'll have to teach that too. Need to understand how you're winning, kid."

Buck is trying his best to be happy for Eddie, desperately putting his issues to the side, he hasn't even mentioned Tommy with all the baking he's been doing.

Eddie, graciously, hasn't mentioned how Buck has gone back to how he was the exact week after Tommy dumped him.

Or perhaps Eddie hasn't noticed with all the preparation and the legal jargon and clearing out everything to make the house look pretty for viewings, and Buck-

Buck really wants to talk to someone.

Eddie's leaving, Bobby is busy building a house, Hen, Maddie, Chimney-

Everyone's moving forward towards something happier. And Buck's stuck trying not to tie his best friend to a city with his sad puppy dog eyes and a pout, all while missing his ex so much that focusing on Eddie leaving drowns out that pain and fills it with something different.

"Buck?"

Buck jumps, dropping his spatula into the bowl. "Huh? W-What's-"

"Chris hung up, he's got school tomorrow."

Buck picks his spatula up, continues mixing his cookie dough. It's as he folds a third time that he notices he forgot the chocolate chips.

"More cookies?"

Buck forces a smile on his face, ignores the floundering puttering in his heart that tells him he needs to call someone before this becomes unsustainable. Baking isn't distracting him, it's not-

He wants Eddie to stay, he wants Chris to come home, he wants a barbecue in Bobby's backyard with his family-

He wants to call Tommy.

"It's for the viewing tomorrow," Buck says, proud of how even his voice sounds, how it doesn't even sound like a lie.

Eddie sidles up to the counter, looking into the bowl. "You don't have to try buttering up potential buyers with sugary goods. I know you set a precedent for the first one, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Buck puts the bowl and spatula down and bumps his hip into Eddie's as he starts greasing up the pan. "If I sweeten them up, maybe they'll actually buy, and you can leave quicker."

The free-sounding tease is easy, it's easy to fake, it's been easy to fake since that day he picked up the tablet and saw the houses. It's been easy to fake since Tommy dumped him, and he had to crawl out of his home and go to work and look somewhat put together, so no-one was scared on their calls. It's been easy to fake since Abby left him at the airport, and with a home that wasn't quite his, and an uneasy feeling in his heart that she wasn't coming back. It's been easy to fake since he was sixteen years old, and Maddie was leaving and-

Maddie, Abby, Tommy, Eddie.

People leave, and that's okay, and it's selfish to force them to stay. No matter how much he wished they would choose to stay.

Buck scoops out a glob of dough and drops it onto his pan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, bud, I'm gonna have a beer while you finish with...that."

Buck sets up the mixer to bake a cake after he puts the cookies in the oven.

---

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and spirals.

The goodbye wave feels robotic, despite knowing that Eddie will be back in a week, even if it's just to start packing up his life to move it hours away. His phone sits in the dock on the dash, and Buck-

Buck doesn't have anything to distract himself from the yawning emptiness inside him.

Nothing to put his mind to, nothing to focus on, just a whole lot of nothing.

The nothing that has been eating away at every positive thought and coping skill he'd put into trying to ignore how much he missed Tommy. The way Tommy would rub his arm and pull him in for a hug when he was feeling low. How Tommy would sarcastically tease him when his anxiety spiked, until Buck couldn't even remember he'd been anxious. How they could sit in silence and not have to chat, and it was just peaceful, and it put Buck at ease, and Tommy wouldn't even mention when Buck's leg started tapping, he'd just put a hand on Buck's knee and lean his weight into-

Fuck.

Tommy would have been a rock through this, platitudes about Eddie not being dead, stop panicking. "I can fly a helicopter, babe, just say the word and you can visit."

Except, Tommy isn't his rock anymore. He's a hurricane that has Buck unmoored and swirling in an abyss of panic and loneliness and, fuck, shit, fuck, Buck has to talk to someone. Or bake something. Or go to the middle of nowhere, with no reception, and scream at the sky.

Everyone's busy. Eddie's on a plane. No-one...he has-

"Buck?"

Buck jolts, staring down at the phone now in his hand, Tommy's face filling the screen, his nose scrunched and looking confused, concerned and cold all in one expression.

So closed off.

"I-I didn't mean to call," Buck whispers, his voice weak and thready even to his own ears. "Hi. Uh, I'll just, uh, hang up."

Except Buck doesn't, he stares at Tommy and feels his heart stutter.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, and Buck watches the cold melt off Tommy's face, leaving only confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Buck?"

"I...just dropped Eddie off at the airport, and I'm sitting at the drop off spot in the taxi ranks, and-"

Tommy's confusion disappears, and his eyes soften, and he's openly concerned and it's like a knife in Buck's chest.

Buck lets out a hoarse laugh. "I've held it in for weeks, not calling, and my best friend leaves and it's like I can't help it- Jesus." Buck runs a hand down his face, he feels like a mess.

"Why did you call me, Buck?"

Because it was habit for six months straight, because every time Buck's been sad since the breakup he's had to physically remove himself from his phone to stop himself from calling Tommy, because Buck just wants to have Tommy as his, and he can't seem to move on despite everyone else seeming able to.

"Everyone else...is moving forward, making families and living their lives, but I'm-"

Buck should hang up, forget about this, say 'sorry, bye asshole', and block Tommy's number once and for all.

Except-

"I'm stuck, stuck on that day in my loft, wondering what happened and how that occurred, and all I've wanted since the day it happened was to call you and fix it or-or, I don't know...I just feel so incomplete here. Unsatisfied. Nothing-nothing makes sense."

Buck rolls on.

"And Eddie told me not to call, so I didn't, except then Eddie decided he wanted to move to Texas and I couldn't be selfish and ask him to stay, so instead I've been helping him, helping him leave my life, because then at least I helped control it."

Buck chokes up.

"Because he's an adult with different priorities, and he can make his own decisions and it's my job as a friend to support him, and I guess you'd know that too if you still talked to him, or hey, maybe he would have stayed for you." He's fucking it up, finally got Tommy on the phone and rather than giving Tommy all the reasons they could work, and he should stay, he's dumping all his fears about Eddie leaving. "And I- I'm not making sense, I'm all over the place, this is not what I wanted to say at all, I had a whole speech about how I love you, and I deserved better, and-"

"Are you safe to drive?" Tommy asks, his voice cutting through Buck's monologue.

Buck bites his lip and nods his head. Of course, Tommy doesn't want to hear about his problems, they're broken up.

"Yeah, yeah, I..." Buck sniffs, wipes at his face despite it being dry, and forces a smile on his face. "I'm just a little sad, sorry for calling."

Tommy shakes his head, and he looks like he's in physical pain, and God, Buck feels like an asshole. He's so selfish, and he should have just thrown his phone out and got a new number after the breakup if he knew he was just going to trample over boundaries.

"No, don't be s- I mean, okay, okay. This sounds like- Eddie left? No, this is a conversation for in person," Tommy sounds just as confused and lost as Buck, which isn't nice, because Buck expects Tommy to be a rock, to be steady, to be- well, that went out the window the night they broke up.

"In person?" Buck wonders aloud.

Tommy hums, and his nose scrunches up, and he puts a finger to the bridge of his nose. The video feed is shaking like the phone in his hand is shaking. Buck swallows and waits for whatever emotional turmoil Tommy is experiencing to pass.

"Drive yourself to mine," Tommy orders.

Buck stares at the screen in shock. "W-What? Tommy, I- no, I-" A taxi starts honking their horn behind him.

"Mine," Tommy repeats, sure, and despite everything it makes that emptiness in Buck feel a little smaller, like Tommy is filling it with just the promise of a conversation. "Sounds like you need to get going. See you soon, Evan."

Tommy hangs up, and Buck spirals, but he starts the car anyway and drives to Tommy's with a spark of something in his chest.