#she rises from the dead with a weird af coda thats not a coda maybe its a missing scene

[capseycartwright]

if you're looking for love, wait and you'll find me

buck joins eddie and christopher at the beach, and he and eddie have a conversation about sperm donation, fatherhood, and the importance of honesty.

a 6x07 coda of sorts.

ao3 link

The salt felt crisp, in Eddie’s hair as he sat, the Pacific Ocean stretching on as far as the eye could see in front of him. He had never been much of a beach person – but he was realising, in the years since he’d moved to Los Angeles, that he’d never had much of an opportunity to be a beach person. There was something indescribably relaxing about the way the waves lapped against the shore, the sound a gentle backing track to the day, families slowly packing up for the day as the afternoon turned to the evening.

Eddie had time.

That was something he was still getting used to – giving himself time and allowing himself to enjoy the slow afternoons he got to share with his son like this. Christopher was happily playing in the sand, his curls still wet from his latest dip in the sea, and Eddie didn’t have the heart to end their day out just yet: not when his son was laughing and the sun was, well, not so high in the sky anymore, but not quite touching the horizon yet, the water golden as the sun made its descent.

“Hi.”

Eddie twisted in his chair, squinting as he realised it was Buck – his friend towering over Eddie and his set of deck chairs. “Hi,” he returned. Eddie was – well, he liked to think he was fluent, in Buck, these days, and Buck definitely seemed quiet, turned in on himself as he settled, trying to fold his miles of leg underneath him, collapsing – rather gracelessly – into the striped chair. “I didn’t think you were going to join us,” he gestured vaguely toward the setting sun. Eddie had told Buck that morning that he was planning to take Christopher to the beach – those first few times, after the tsunami, Christopher would only go if Buck was there. He’d progressed past that, healed, Eddie knew, but that didn’t mean the invitation wasn’t always extended to his best friend.

Eddie could admit he – and his son – were generally happier when Buck was around.

“I almost didn’t,” Buck admitted, slumping in his chair. He looked tired – and the red-rimmed eyes he was sporting made Eddie think that Buck hadn’t exactly had the best day, since their shift had ended that morning.

“What made you change your mind?” Eddie asked, nudging a bottle of water toward Buck. He looked like he needed something stronger, frankly, but Eddie’s cooler could only offer water, and juice boxes. Maybe – maybe a juice box, would be better, Eddie decided, taking advantage of Buck’s lack of attention to root in the cooler, pressing a mango juice box into Buck’s confused hands. “You look like you need sugar,” he said, by way of explanation.

Buck gave him a grateful smile. It was endearingly hilarious, Eddie decided, to watch a grown man – and a particularly large grown man, at that – unwrap the tiny straw that came with the juice boxes Christopher favoured, massive hands stabbing the tiny, delicate straw into the top of the pouch. Buck took a sip, and then another, and then one more, before he finally spoke.

“I needed a friend,” he explained. “Whenever my head feels like this, you’re the only person I want to talk to.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his heart swelled a little, in his chest. There was something so special about the way Buck so casually affirmed the importance of having Eddie in his life – it made Eddie feel needed, and purposeful, in ways he was only beginning to understand the reasoning for. Being a father – it had always given Eddie a purpose, even when he wasn’t ready for it – but his relationship with Buck was different. It was a different kind of purpose, and one he hoped he would get to have for the rest of his life.

But – that was a conversation for a different day.

“You know you can always talk to me,” Eddie reminded -  because he knew, from personal experience, sometimes you needed reminding that even those closest to you were still willing to listen. You didn’t always believe it when you were having a tough time. Eddie knew that too.

“Are you mad, that I spoke to Hen, and not you?” Buck’s tone was almost childlike.

“No,” Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Why would I be?”

“I don’t know,” Buck squirmed in his chair, the metal squeaking. “I always talk to you.”

“You do,” Eddie hummed. “Eventually,” he grinned. “I know you’ll talk to me when you’re ready. I figured – well, I figured there was a reason you went to Hen first. You are allowed to have other friends, remember?” he knocked his ankle against Buck, managing to rouse a smile from the other man.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea, to be a sperm donor?” Buck asked – straight to the point, then. Eddie had wondered – sometimes, Buck was prone to talking around the root of the problem for ages, leaving Eddie to have to dig, and dig, to find out what was really wrong.

“No,” Eddie said, definitive. “I think it’s a beautiful thing, to want to help someone who is struggling to conceive. It – it’s a really selfless thing to do, whether its for someone you know, or strangers. I know that if I was in Connor’s position, I’d be really grateful for what you’re doing. It’s – it’s a good thing to do.”

“But?”

“There’s no but,” Eddie shrugged. “Sperm donation – egg donation – it’s all a really cool thing to do. Being a dad,” he glanced toward Christopher, who was still happily entertained by the castle he was making. Eddie sort of never wanted him to grow up. “Is the greatest privilege of my life. Wanting to help give someone that, give them a child – that’s an incredible thing to do, for anyone.”

Buck pulled a face. “There still feels like there’s a but coming, Eddie.”

Not a but, no – a consideration. That’s what Eddie would explain it as if Buck asked.

“I know you’ve considered – and gone through – the physical side of things, and how that might affect you,” Eddie paused. “But have you considered the mental impact of doing this? The – well, the emotional affect it’ll have on you, it’s more significant than I think you’ve given it credit for, Buck. I admire the fact you want to help – but I don’t want you to hurt yourself in the name of helping someone else.”

Buck was quiet, for a second. “Hen asked, if I was ready to be a father, and walk away,” he parroted. “And that – that’s kind of what this is, isn’t it? I’ll be a father, genetically at least, but I won’t be a part of the kid’s life: aside from being the fun uncle they see once every couple of years.”

“Do you think you could handle being the fun uncle, knowing that the kid is biologically a part of you?”

“Jeez – ask the hard questions why don’t you?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s why you’re talking to me, Buck.”

“I – I know that family is so much more than biology,” Buck said, Eddie not missing the quick, darting glance that Buck made in Christopher’s direction. “I know that, I really do. My biological parents – they’re shit, you know that. I know that family is about people who love you, really, truly love you, despite everything you are, and aren’t.”

“But?” Eddie prompted – because there was definitely a but, he knew that much.

“But,” Buck offered Eddie a soft, sad smile. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to deal with knowing there’s a kid walking around in the world with my DNA who’s life I don’t have any part in. You know?”

Eddie knew. Eddie didn’t know everything – but he knew Buck, and he knew the kind of person that Buck was, and he knew first-hand the kind of father that Buck was. From the moment he’d become a part of Christopher’s life, Buck had been dedicated, and interested, giving up evenings and weekends for all sorts of school and kid related activities. He’d done all that for Eddie’s kid – long before Eddie’s kid was their kid – and so Eddie knew what kind of father Buck would be.

And he knew that was why it was probably a bad idea for Buck, specifically Buck, to be a sperm donor.

“You need to tell Connor, and his wife,” Eddie tried to be gentle, as he spoke – he didn’t want to sound as though he was berating Buck for anything. He sort of knew why Buck was so insistent on helping his friend, even at the determinant of his own well-being. That was just who Buck was.

“How? How can I tell them that I – that I don’t think I can do this, after promising them I could help them?” Buck sounded frustrated, upset as he shook his head.

“You have to be honest with them,” Eddie urged. “Buck – listen, they’re in a rough spot, and I get that you want to help them, but there are other ways for them. Okay? There are other people they could ask – there’s anonymous sperm donors. It’ll be okay.”

“I just – they asked me,” Buck managed, his bottom lip quivering in that same way that Christopher’s did, when he was on the verge of tears. It was funny, really, how parenting worked – Christopher wasn’t biologically Buck’s, and by many people’s standards, that meant he wasn’t his father: but Eddie could see Buck in his son more and more every day, in the way Christopher was bright, and silly, and kind – and in the way that his lip wobbled just like Buck’s was doing now.

“And that – that’s an honour,” Eddie reassured. “But it doesn’t mean you’re obliged to do it, Buck.”

Buck was quiet, for a minute. “I just – I guess that if I can’t have what I want, I thought I could help give it to them.”

Eddie sort of wanted to yell – to turn to Buck and promise him that he did have everything he wanted, and it was right there on Santa Monica beach: he had Christopher, he had a son, and he had Eddie. God – did he have Eddie. He was welcome to have Eddie in any way he wanted, and Eddie wished – and wished, and wished – that Buck wanted Eddie the way that Eddie wanted him, rings on fingers and whispered ‘I love yous’ pressed into every inch of each other’s skin, but Eddie knew this wasn’t the right moment for this conversation.

Buck wasn’t ready – even if Eddie himself might be.

“You need to be honest with yourself,” Eddie said. “And then you need to be honest with Connor, and Kameron. Before it’s too late.”

Buck chewed on the side of his mouth, nodding, furiously blinking as he tried to hold back his tears. “Not today though. Right?” he sounded childlike, as he spoke, holding tightly to his half-empty juice box.

Eddie glanced out at the horizon, the sun a little closer to the horizon – but not quite there yet, the sea sparkling warm and golden. “No, not today,” he hummed in agreement. “Today – I think we can just stay here a little while longer.”

They had time; Eddie knew.

(Of course they did –

It wasn’t their time yet, but their time was coming soon, Eddie knew, and once the sun finally set beyond the horizon, they’d be one day closer. And that was enough for now.)