Title: Fine
Author: N'kala
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I make no money from this.
Summary:
"I hate to say 'I told you so', but-."
"The hell you don't! It's your favorite phrase!"
Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the kind words and kudos on 'Setting the Record Straight'. I'm afraid that the story just wouldn't settle, so I wrote a stronger conclusion to the whole thing. I hope you all enjoy the final resolution.
This follows directly from 'Setting the Record Straight', so if you haven't read that one yet, you might want to check it out first.
Fine
Eddie wasn't entirely certain how he'd gotten to this point. He'd really had every intention of meeting with Ana and setting her straight on Buck's place in his and Christopher's lives.
Fate, it seemed, had other ideas.
'Meet for coffee' had turned into 'dinner tomorrow night' when Eddie's shift had run over due to a bad traffic accident on the 105, requiring every available pair of hands.
'Dinner tomorrow night' had promptly been rescheduled to 'breakfast on Saturday' when a crisis at Ana's school demanded her attention for several hours.
Which became 'dinner on Monday' when Christopher caught the stomach bug making its way through his class.
And then got pushed back again in favor of yet another minor crisis, then again, and again . . .
. . . and again . . .
"No, I understand," Eddie assured Ana through his phone, eyes unconsciously flickering across the loft to Buck, who was helping Bobby prepare lunch. "You take care of your sister. We can meet up later."
Hen was sitting on the couch beside Eddie's, feet braced on the coffee table and a medical textbook propped up on her knees. She appeared to be deep in thought, but as soon as Eddie hung up, she said, "You're still seeing Ana?"
Eddie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Uh . . . not exactly."
Hen placed her highlighter inside the middle of her book and closed it in favor of giving Eddie her full attention. "But you haven't broken up?"
Eddie winced slightly, casting another quick glance over at Bobby and Buck. He frowned at Hen. "Not . . . technically."
Hen studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Look, Eddie," she said, "it's not my place to judge your choices, and I still don't know what went down at the barbecue, but I can clearly see how it's affecting your friendship with Buck."
Eddie gave a start, his head swinging between her and Buck. "What?"
Despite herself, Hen rolled her eyes. "Eddie, seriously? You don't think anyone notices when our personal ray of sunshine gets covered by clouds? Since the barbecue, I've seen Buck try to pull away from you; he doesn't talk about you or Christopher as much, doesn't hang out with you guys nearly as much, and he spends a lot of his downtime here trying to clean and reorganize the storage closets." She paused for a beat. "Not to mention Bobby hovering over him and trying to act like he's not hovering over him. That's a dead give away."
Eddie winced again. He'd noticed; he'd just hoped it was all in his head.
Hen leaned forward. "And it all started after Ana left the barbecue early. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to connect those dots."
Eddie ducked his head slightly. "It's complicated."
Exasperation crept into Hen's expression. "It usually is," she replied. "Have you talked to Buck?"
"Yeah, the night of the barbecue," Eddie told her. "We're good."
Hen raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Eddie demanded defensively. "We are!"
"How long did that conversation last?" Hen asked.
Confusion punctured his bubbling irritation. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Because 'complicated issues' require 'complicated discussions'," Hen told him patiently. "Anything under five minutes doesn't count."
Eddie's frown deepened as he thought back to that night. Despite anything Ana said, he and Buck were solid. He'd said as much to the younger man, and Buck had been quick to agree.
Maybe a little too quick . . .
"Food's up!" Bobby's voice rang out, immediately followed by the sounds of clanging tools and rushing feet.
"We're good," Eddie told Hen, though his tone had less conviction than before.
"If you say so," Hen replied as they rose to their feet. "But the longer you drag this out without actually doing anything about it, the harder it's gonna be to fix it."
Eddie followed Hen to the table, mulling over her words as he claimed his usual chair beside Buck.
It's not that bad, he told himself. We're good. We're fine.
And if the smile Buck flashed him was a shadow of its usual brilliance, well, it was all in his head.
They weren't fine.
Three more days of Buck dodging his calls, begging off of dinner invites, and slinking off to reorganize the storage closet again instead of playing video games between calls managed to convince Eddie that Buck, despite his insistence, was not okay.
Eddie didn't need Hen's knowing looks or Bobby's increasingly concerned 'dad' frowns to tell him he needed to fix things. The problem was, he couldn't pin Buck down long enough to get through to him.
His phone notifying him of yet another text drew his eyes down.
Ana.
Eddie grimaced. Ana had been texting him off and on all day, dropping hints about meeting up for dinner. He knew he needed to meet with her; they'd delayed their conversation far too long. He just . . . didn't want to.
Noise from the kitchen was a welcome distraction. Eddie glanced over and found Buck poking around the cabinets, no doubt searching for a snack. Seeing the opportunity gifted to him, Eddie pocketed his phone and strode for his friend.
His phone's notification gave him away.
Buck's eyes flickered to Eddie, his body freezing like a gazelle that sensed danger nearby.
Eddie quickly blocked Buck's escape route, boxing him in near the refrigerator. "Buck," he stated. "Can we talk?"
His phone pinged again. Buck's eyes narrowed so slightly that Eddie nearly missed it.
"Sounds like you already have someone wanting to talk to you," he commented with a lightness that fooled neither of them.
Eddie refused to be deterred. "You've been avoiding me."
Buck averted his eyes. "I've been busy."
Eddie's phone pinged again twice in rapid succession. Muttering a curse under his breath, Eddie pulled it out, switched it over to silent, then shoved it aside onto the counter.
Buck smiled sadly at the phone. "Just, uh, a tip? Ignoring messages is a quick way to piss off your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend," Eddie growled out. "Not anymore. Not after the bullshit she pulled at the barbecue."
Eddie's phone began to buzz from an incoming call. Buck saw Ana's name on the screen and quirked an eyebrow at Eddie.
"Does she know that?" he asked.
Frustration rolled through Eddie. "She thinks I need time to see things her way," he admitted. "I told her my answer was the same no matter how much time passed. You're my family, and if she can't accept that, then there's no point continuing this relationship."
The phone's buzzing mercifully stopped.
Buck's eyes pierced Eddie's with such finality that Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat.
"The barbecue was weeks ago," Buck told Eddie. "If you meant that, then why are you still talking to her?"
Eddie was at a loss for words, blinking at Buck in shock.
The sad smile made an encore on Buck's lips. "Eddie, it's okay," he said gently. "I know how important this is to you; how important it is for you to move on from Shannon. If making things work with Ana means I take a step back from hanging out, I can do that. I'm still your friend, Eddie. That won't change. I'll just . . . We can be friends at work."
Eddie didn't want that. He opened his mouth to tell Buck exactly that, but the alarm suddenly filled the air.
Buck plastered a grin on his face and lightly punched Eddie in the arm. "Time to go to work!" he announced with a painfully forced cheerfulness before jogging past Eddie.
Eddie swiped his phone from the counter and pocketed it before following after Buck. A litany of curses flew from his mouth; how had he messed up so badly with his best friend?
Hen's words from three days ago tugged at his consciousness.
Resolve filled Eddie as he quickly tugged on his turnout gear, grabbed his helmet, and raced for the truck. If fixing his friendship with Buck meant having a real conversation, then that's what he would do. They'll talk. They'll be fine.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Fists and jaw clenched, Buck glowered out the window at the passing scenery as his knee throbbed in agonizing time with his heartbeat.
The young man cursed himself for his carelessness. He'd known the floorboards, rotten with age, were riskier than normal. He'd known. Which meant that his injury was his own damn fault.
He couldn't even blame the fire, or whoever last inspected the home. Hell, he couldn't even blame it on his teammates missing it as they spread through the house to search for occupants. He'd been the one to find it; he'd been the one to call out the warning to others to avoid the area.
And he'd been the one carrying the ten-year-old girl right over the rotting and weakening wood, his leg crashing right through the floorboards.
Quick reflexes had Buck twisting his body to protect his precious cargo from harm, but the awkward angle also caused his knee to wrench painfully as he fell.
His only saving grace was that no one had seen him fall. Buck had rallied, using the adrenaline pumping through his veins to deliver the girl into Hen and Chimney's capable hands. He'd pushed through the protesting twinges as he helped his team gather their tools and pack them away, and he'd swung himself up into the truck with his usual vim and vigor.
Now, with the rush of the call fading, his knee was making its displeasure known.
Buck's teeth ground together as the truck turned, jolting his knee. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Eddie frowning in his direction.
Stupid.
If Eddie knew he'd gone and hurt himself, Buck would never get rid of him. He'd been doing so well, too, keeping his distance so that Ana could have a chance at building a relationship with Eddie. Buck couldn't undo all of his hard work; his heart couldn't take it.
Buck took a deep breath and slowly released it. He could do this.
As soon as they made it back to the station, there would be a mad rush for the locker rooms to shower off the grime from the call. All Buck had to do was stall for a few minutes, and no one would be the wiser.
Five minutes later, and his plan went like clockwork. Pretending to fiddle with something on his phone, Buck waited for everyone to rush out before scooting over to the door. He had to twist and turn his body in a couple of different positions before he was able to gently lower himself out of the truck and onto the ground.
Taking several steadying breaths, Buck released his white-knuckled grip on the door handle and straightened. WIth a final deep breath, he turned around.
And immediately jerked back in shock, pain exploding up his leg.
Bobby was standing behind him, arms folded and an expectant look on his face. One eyebrow lifted at Buck's sudden jump.
Fuck. He'd forgotten about Bobby.
Straightening, Buck smiled brightly at the older man, intending to brazen his way through the impending conversation. "Hey, Cap. You startled me there. We should put a bell on your or something."
"We could, but then how could I catch you trying to sneak away with an injury that needs looking at?" Bobby retorted.
Buck's expression turned puzzled. "Injury? What injury?"
"Whatever it is that you did to your knee," came Eddie's voice.
Buck glanced to his left, watching as Eddie approached with Chimney and Hen. Hen was carrying her kit over her shoulder while Chimney held a knee brace in his hands.
"Wh-What makes you think I did something to my knee?" Buck stammered, not quite ready to drop the charade.
"You mean other than the fact that you're bearing all of your weight on one leg?" Hen asked pointedly.
"Or the gymnastics routine you just did to climb down from the truck?" Bobby added.
"You were limping at the scene," Eddie told him. "Not a lot, but enough. I know you, man. I can tell when you're hurting."
The words cast a warm glow inside of Buck. "It's nothing," he admitted. "I just twisted it. An ice pack, propping it up . . . I'll be good as new in no time."
"Did we forget to throw a party for your EMT certification?" Hen asked.
"Hen-," Buck protested.
"Give it up, Buckaroo," Chimney advised. "It'll go faster if you let us take a look."
Buck wilted, his shoulders drooping. "Fine," he grumbled.
Bobby's hand immediately latched onto Buck's elbow, guiding him down onto the step on the truck. Hen and Chimney crouched down before him, gently poking and prodding along his leg. Eddie hovered behind them, carefully watching the proceedings.
"You're coming home with me tonight," he told Buck. "There's no way you're getting around your apartment on that knee."
"It's not that bad," Buck insisted. "I'm- ow! Hen!"
"Not that bad, huh?" Eddie retorted.
"What're we looking at, Hen?" Bobby asked.
"It's pretty swollen, and it's going to keep going unless we get some ice on it," Hen replied as Chimney fixed the brace carefully around the knee. "I don't think anything's torn, but I'd like to get some scans to be sure."
"I don't need scans," Buck stated. "I'll be fine."
"Better safe than sorry," Bobby told him.
"I can take him to the hospital," Eddie volunteered. "We can head back to my place afterwards."
Buck braced himself on Bobby's arm, rising to his uninjured leg with Chimney's help. "Guys, come on. On a scale of tripping over my own feet to a firetruck landing on me, this is barely a two."
The sudden silence at his statement drew Buck up short. He glanced at each of his friends in turn, frowning. "What?"
"I . . . honestly don't know if that's supposed to be good or bad," Chimney stated.
Buck opened his mouth to reply, but Bobby quickly cut in.
"You're going," he told Buck firmly. He glanced at Eddie. "Text us with updates and keep us informed."
Eddie nodded, hooking a hand around Buck's elbow. "C'mon; let's get going before rush hour traffic hits."
Buck scowled. "Great. A twisted knee, a hospital visit, and sitting in a car for an hour and a half to go ten miles. What next?"
"Surprise!"
All five firefighters turned as one to watch Ana Flores walk up to them, a bright smile on her face and carrying two bags with the logo of a nearby sandwich shop on them.
Buck hung his head as Hen patted him on the shoulder.
"You just had to ask," she murmured to him.
"Ana?" Eddie said, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"
"We keep missing each other, so I thought I'd bring dinner to you," Ana stated. "I figured you were out on a call when you didn't answer your phone, and I knew you'd be hungry." Her eyes flickered briefly over to Bobby before returning to Eddie. "I, er . . . I brought sandwiches for everyone."
"That's . . . very kind of you," Bobby stated. He glanced between Eddie and Buck, then turned back to Eddie. "Eddie, why don't you escort Ms. Flores upstairs? I'll take Buck to the hospital."
A protest was forming on Eddie's lips, but Ana spoke first.
"The hospital?" she echoed, concern clouding her features. "Oh no; are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Buck told her. "Everything's good. Eddie, I'll see you next shift."
"Now hold on, Buck," Eddie said. "I'm not-."
"It's cool, Eds," Buck interrupted. "You shouldn't keep Ana waiting. We can talk later."
Buck started to limp away, but Eddie's hand clamped down on his arm, halting his movement.
"No," Eddie stated.
Buck's brow furrowed. "No?"
Eddie shook his head, then glanced at Ana. "Ana, I appreciate what you are trying to do here, but now isn't a good time. I promised Buck I'd take him to the hospital."
Ana's head tilted slightly in confusion. "Captain Nash just said he could take him. Why does it have to be you?"
Eddie could feel Buck start to shrink away, but he only tightened his grip. "Because I said I would. We can reschedule dinner another night."
Ana stiffened. "You're canceling on me again?"
"We've been canceling on each other for the last couple of weeks," Eddie pointed out. "What's the difference?"
"That was different," Ana stated. "Those situations were unavoidable. Work. Family . . ."
Tension rippled through Eddie. "Buck is family."
No one spoke. An awkward silence filled the air as Eddie and Ana stared each other down, apparently forgetting that they had an audience.
Buck turned pleading eyes to Bobby who stepped forward and gently removed Eddie's hand from Buck's arm.
"Clearly, you two have some things to discuss," he stated. He wrapped an arm around Buck's waist, bracing him. "I'm taking Buck to the hospital to get checked out. Chim, you're in charge for the remainder of the shift."
Eddie wanted to argue with Bobby's decision, but the pained look on Buck's face stayed his words. He nodded mutely.
Ana huffed lightly, turning on her heel and heading for the stairs to the loft as Bobby gently led Buck away. Hen moved to stand beside Eddie, one hand pressed consoling against his back.
"I don't like saying 'I told you so'," she stated. "But-."
Chimney snorted. "The hell you don't!" he cut her off. "It's your favorite phrase!"
Hen swatted at Chimney, who took off for the stairs. Shaking her head, she patted Eddie on the back.
"Come on," she said. "The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can get out of here and pick Buck up from the hospital."
Eddie smiled faintly, then braced himself for the coming storm.
Buck fidgeted on the exam table, his injured leg stretched out with ice packs piled on and around his knee, numbing most of the pain. Buck was grateful for the relief; manipulating his leg for the MRI scans had not been pleasant. His uninjured leg dangled over the edge of the table, mindlessly swinging back and forth as he laid in wait for the results of his scans.
Bobby had taken the opportunity to step outside and make several phone calls. Buck was grateful for the older man's presence, and understood that he had other priorities on his plate to see to, but his absence was rapidly being replaced by thoughts of Eddie, Ana, and what was happening back at the station.
Buck was halfway through a scenario where a happily married Eddie and Ana had decided to take Christopher and move to Texas when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
"Hey."
Buck's eyes snapped to Eddie standing in the doorway to his room. "Eddie? What are you doing here?"
Eddie stepped into the room, hands jammed into his pockets. "You're here. Any news yet?"
"No, still waiting on the results," Buck answered. "Where's Ana?"
Eddie shrugged. "Home, probably." He glanced around the room. "We broke up."
Buck blinked at Eddie, then blinked again. "What? Why?"
Eddie met Buck's gaze. "Buck. Come on. You know why."
Pink dusted Buck's cheeks. "Eddie, man, seriously. You really liked her up until the barbecue. Don't let one little thing change your mind so fast. It's not too late; go get some flowers and apologize. I bet you could still get her back."
"And if I don't want to get her back?" Eddie asked.
Buck frowned. "Why wouldn't you?"
Eddie studied the younger man for a long moment. "Buck," he finally said. "If you were dating someone, and they said that you spent too much time with Christopher, what would you do?"
"Now, see, that would never happen," Buck replied easily. "No one on Earth would ever think you could spend too much time with Chris. It's more like there's never enough time."
A smile bloomed on Eddie's face, and he chuckled. "Okay," he conceded. "But say, for argument's sake, there is a person who would say that to you. What then?"
Buck shrugged. "No content. I'd pick Christopher every time. That's a dealbreaker."
Eddie nodded, meeting Buck's eyes. "Exactly."
Oh.
Oh.
Buck dropped his gaze, emotions swelling up within him. "I . . ."
Eddie gripped Buck's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "It's okay, man. She wasn't the one. I'm fine. We're fine."
Buck smiled, feeling himself shift back onto an even keel for the first time since the barbecue.
Bobby chose that moment to return, pausing just inside the doorway as he took in Eddie's presence. "Hey," he said, eyes flickering back and forth between the two younger men. "Everything all right?"
Eddie glanced at Buck, who smiled brightly at Bobby.
"Yeah, Cap," he answered. "Everything's fine."
END