May 7, 2016
"It's so hard to believe he's five already," Eddie murmured as he sank down onto the sofa beside Abuela.
She hadn't so much insisted as assumed she'd host Christopher's fifth birthday party at her house, and Eddie saw no reason even to suggest something else, so the Diaz family who lived in the LA area had converged on Abuela's house and now sat with Christopher while he opened his presents.
Besides Eddie and Abuela, Tía Pepa had come, along with her children and grandchildren. It was the largest family gathering since Eddie had arrived in LA, and the sentinel inside Eddie felt settled in a way he hadn't before.
Family tribe. The words came unbidden to his mind, but he set them aside to consider later, because Abuela was speaking.
"They grow so fast," she said. "Remember these days, nieto. It will be a comfort when he's older."
"Way to bring down the mood, Abuela," Eddie said with a grin.
She just shrugged. "Es verdad. I know."
Eddie nodded, and for a moment they watched Christopher open a gold-and-white wrapped box that looked more appropriate for a wedding than a child's birthday party.
"From Ramon," Abuela murmured low enough that no one else would hear. "He assured me it's perfect for him."
Hiding a grimace, Eddie nodded to acknowledge her words and bent forward to retrieve his glass of lemonade from the coffee table and take a sip. There might be a restraining order against his mother, but that hadn't stopped his father from sending presents for Christmas and birthdays. Eddie had discussed the situation with his attorney and they'd decided that allowing the presents wouldn't hurt or compromise their position with respect to the restraining order. In fact, allowing the gifts showed that Eddie was being reasonable.
Christopher's quiet scoff and immediate handing off of the contents of the gilt-wrapped package to Fernando's youngest – the youngest of all the children present – had Eddie focusing on the gift – then scowling when he recognized it.
"Duplo," he muttered, and Abuela raised an inquiring eyebrow. "They're Lego for toddlers," he explained. "There's nothing wrong with Christopher's dexterity, and he's at least two years older than they're meant for."
Still, he noted the gift and giver in his phone, as he had the others his son had received today. None of his female relatives would forgive him if he didn't have Christopher write thank-you notes. Or at least add his name to notes Eddie wrote for him.
"Idiotos," Abuela murmured. "They love Christopher, but they see him as they believe he is, not as he is."
Eddie blinked. He'd never thought of it that way before. Well, to be completely honest with himself if no one else, he'd never thought of it at all before. His parents were obstacles to be overcome, challenges to be met. He'd never even tried to consider things from their point of view.
Still, now that his grandmother had brought the idea to mind, and he suddenly felt the certainty behind it, all Eddie could say was, "Truer words, Abuela. Truer words."
Christopher had apparently saved that gift for last – Eddie would have to ask if that had been a deliberate choice on his son's part – and it wasn't long before all the younger children were sprawled on the floor and engrossed in a game of CandyLand while the older cousins played Ticket to Ride at the coffee table.
Eddie figured the living room floor would be unpassable for the rest of the party, but this was the kind of gathering Abuela liked best, so he just made a note to keep an eye on her when she got up to go anywhere. Toys plus unpredictable children equaled an immense number of tripping hazards, and there was no need for the party to end with a trip to the emergency room.
"So, Eddie."
Rafael's voice made Eddie look up just in time to see his favorite cousin flop down in the armchair across from the sofa where Eddie sat with Abuela. Tía Pepa's youngest child, Rafael was only a few months younger than Eddie, and the two had spent summers and most Christmases together until they'd graduated high school and gone their separate ways.
Even today Eddie kept in touch with Rafa more than most of his cousins, though most of their communication consisted of brief texts, sharing photos of their families, and the occasional meme war.
"How's paramedic school?" Rafa asked.
"Fine," Eddie replied automatically. "I'm doing well in my classes."
"As you do when you put your mind to something." Abuela patted his knee, then used it for leverage as she rose from the sofa.
Eddie held still as she stood, then started to rise himself. She waved him away.
"I walk through this house every day, Eddito."
"But you don't have half a dozen kids around every day," Rafa replied. He looked over to the gaggle of cousins briefly focused on their oldest niece. "Sarah, clear a path for Abuela, por favor, and then help her if she needs it."
Abuela shot him a nasty glare – well, nasty for her, anyway – but allowed the oldest of the cousins to clear a path for her.
"She won't thank you for that," Eddie murmured as the two disappeared into the kitchen.
"She doesn't have to," Rafa replied with a grin. "She just has to let me do it."
Eddie laughed.
"Besides," Rafa continued, "I know she's usually good on her feet. But she's not getting younger, and she doesn't usually have a house full of people."
"I admit, I was concerned about having the party here, but Abuela insisted and Tía Pepa said it would be fine."
"Like your classes."
Eddie's humor disappeared. "Yeah. Like that."
"Dude." Rafa regarded him gravely. "I'm not even online yet, and I can feel how deeply uninterested you are in your classes."
"I'm not uninterested," Eddie protested, and got a raised eyebrow in return. "I'm not. It's just…not as fulfilling as I'd hoped it would be, given my history."
"What would make it more fulfilling?"
Trust Rafa, a latent guide if ever there was one, to get to the point. Eddie took another sip of lemonade, wishing it was a beer instead, to buy time to think.
"It's not active enough," he said finally. "When I was in the Army-" and it still hurt to say was "-I was doing more than just medical, you know? But that's all paramedics do. I miss the more physical parts of it."
"So you know what you need to do," Rafa said. "Find something that gives you the physical part and lets you help the tribe, preferably using your medical knowledge. Physical therapist, maybe?"
Eddie couldn't help grimacing.
Rafa nodded. "That's out, then." The tone was accepting, and Eddie appreciated it.
"It's good work," Eddie said. "Hell, I wouldn't be where I am now without a team of physical therapists. But it's not for me."
"Mm." Rafa tilted his head, obviously considering. "Police officer? No," he added immediately, and Eddie wondered how he'd given himself away.
"I've been having dreams," Eddie said before Rafa could toss out another idea.
"What kind of dreams?"
"They feel…not prophetic, but kind of the opposite of déjà vu. Not I have been here before, but I will be here sometime. Make sense?"
"Yeah." Rafa shifted in the armchair so he could rest his forearms on his thighs. "What are you dreaming about?"
Bright blue eyes. But he couldn't tell Rafa that without opening himself up to years of teasing about it. Eddie took a breath and let it out as he considered how to answer.
"I'm not sure," he said finally. "There's another person there, but I don't see them clearly. I think we're working together, because there's a sense of…more than camaraderie. Partnership, maybe. I feel like this is the most important person in the world – which is nonsense, because the most important person in the world is sitting over there playing CandyLand."
"Perhaps your guide?" Rafa suggested.
"I hope so," Eddie admitted. "I also have an impression of a uniform, but I don't know what kind."
"Then think about jobs that require uniforms, and pick the one that appeals the most."
Eddie snorted. "You're asking me to base my life on a fashion sense I don't have?"
"Not exactly. I'm asking you to look at the uniforms, and pick the one that feels most like your dreams."
Eddie considered that for a long moment, finally summoning a grin. "How'd you get so smart?"
Rafa grinned. "Well, it's clearly not genetic."
Eddie shook his head with a grin. "Pendejo."
Anything else they might have said was cut short by Abuela coming in from the kitchen carrying a cake with five candles. Sarah followed her with a stack of paper plates and plastic forks.
"Happy birthday to you," she began, and Eddie joined the rest of his family in song, the words familiar enough that he didn't have to think about them.
He'd wanted to talk the dreams over with Tony or Steve, but both of them were in Washington, DC, dealing with SHIELD matters, and he wouldn't discuss that or his dreams over the phone – not even one of Tony's spiffy state-of-the-art StarkPhones – and talking with Rafa had come more easily than he'd expected.
Rafa's suggestion, odd as it might be, was better than anything Eddie himself had come up with over the last few days, and no matter how he considered it, Eddie couldn't find anything wrong with the idea that his instincts were guiding him. Sure, Rafa hadn't used those words, but the meaning was clear.
"Daddy?"
Christopher's voice pulled him from his musing. "What is it, mijo?"
"Don't you want some cake?"
*BREAK*
Not for the first time, Eddie offered a prayer of thanks that Los Angeles churches scheduled Sunday School at the same time as the most popular adult service – or at least the one he'd found did. The church in El Paso scheduled Sunday School after service, which meant the parents needed to stay an hour longer, or leave and come back to pick up their kids.
A lot of the parents took the hour to get coffee or brunch as a sort of date, but Eddie had always preferred to use his time efficiently. On Sundays, that meant having breakfast after church with Christopher.
While Christopher talked about baby Moses, Eddie guided his truck toward a local chain Mexican restaurant that had the best chiles rellenos Eddie had ever had, better even than Abuela's, though he'd take that secret to the grave and as far beyond as he was allowed.
When they were seated and their orders – chiles rellenos for Eddie and a breakfast burrito for Christopher – taken, Eddie leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.
"So, Christopher – wanna help me with something?"
"What?"
Eddie hadn't known his five-year-old son was capable of putting that much suspicion into one word. He clenched his teeth to keep from laughing and took a moment to steady his voice before he spoke again.
"You know I've been going to paramedic school?" At Christopher's nod, Eddie continued, "Well, I don't think it's the right choice for me, so I'm going to do something different."
"What are you going to do, Daddy?" Christopher asked, his eyes wide.
"That's what I need your help with, mijo." Eddie put a StarkPad on the table.
"That's not mine," Christopher said. "Mine's green."
And had a ton of parental controls on it, too, which was why Eddie had brought his own. "So what I need you to do is look up all the jobs that make people wear uniforms."
"Un-i-forms? Why?"
"Because I think my next job will need a uniform, just not paramedic one."
"Like in the Army?"
"Like in the Army."
"You must like un-i-forms a lot."
Eddie chuckled briefly. "More that I like what they represent – a team, a structure."
"Okay. Can I eat while I look?" Christopher added as their breakfasts arrived.
"Sure. Just be sure to actually eat, okay?"
*BREAK*
Christopher kept the StarkPad until Eddie was chopping veggies for a dinner salad that evening. Eddie had checked a couple of times to make sure Christopher wasn't getting into things he was too young for, but his son seemed to take his assignment very seriously.
The soft thump of Christopher's crutches against the floor announced his son's arrival in the kitchen. "I found the best un-i-form, Daddy."
"Oh, yeah, mijo? What's that?"
Christopher held out the tablet. "Firefighter."
"Firefighter, huh?" Eddie put his knife down carefully, blade facing away from the edge of the counter and far enough back that Christopher shouldn't be able to reach it, and took the StarkPad.
An image of two people filled the screen, a man and a woman, each wearing a dark blue uniform. In the corner of the image the logo for the Los Angeles Fire Department gleamed.
The uniform – more like a shirt and trousers, really – was just a bit darker blue than his Army dress uniform, but the fire department patch on the breast…
…the patch seemed familiar.
Eddie closed his eyes, breathing deeply and summoning the bits of images he remembered from his dreams.
It was certain. He'd been dreaming of the LAFD, even if he hadn't known what the patch meant until just now.
He opened his eyes and smiled at his son. "Looks like I'm applying for firefighter training."