Buck
Running into Bobby and Eddie had not been Bucks plan when he woke up later than expected at Tommy's place that morning. In fact, he hadn't intended to spend the night at Tommy's at all. The original plan was to meet coffee and maybe an early dinner, as they both were on a 24 hour shift the next morning. However, Tommy decided to pick Buck up at the loft, and forgo the coffee, and bring him back to his condo and woo him there. And woo he had. Afterward, they were both far too exhausted to leave the bed or even think about returning Buck to his loft. So, he spent the night.
They were going to quickly park in the 118 parking lot, allowing Buck to jump out, sneak a goodbye kiss, and rush in just in time to get changed and sprint to the floor for morning inspection. Yes, morning inspection. One of Captain Gerrard's new implementations. Where Bobby would have had daily start up meetings, just to keep everyone informed of how the previous shift went, as well as any important maintenance issues that might need to be addressed on their shift, Gerrard wanted everyone lined up, in uniform, ready for inspection. If so much as a hair was out of place, or button not sparkling, you were on cleaning detail for the day. Or worse yet, you could even end up man behind. So far no one had been relegated to that, But both Eddie and Ravi had nearly suffered that fate. Ravi because one of his boots wasn't tied, and Eddie because he was looking too "scruffy" according to Gerrard.
After losing Chris to his parents a week prior, Eddie started to spiral a bit. He barely slept, refused to eat, shave or practically leave the house. Learning about Gerrard had nearly shattered him. Between Gerrard's harassment, and Eddie's spiraling, Eddie became maliciously compliant. Gerrard informed him that his growing beard made Eddie look like a homeless bum, and he was to shave immediately. Eddie Stepped forward, hands balled into fists. Again, Buck thought about Eddie's anger and the illegal fighting and held his breath. Eddie stood his ground, glared at Gerrard for a moment, and walked away, toward the locker room. Gerrard grinned, a creepy rictus, and claimed Victory. Everyone went about their business. Twenty minutes later Eddie returned to the floor, his beard shaved, but a neatly trimmed mustache remaining, holding a bound book in his hand. Gerrard stormed up to him and demanded, "I thought I told you to shave that shit off your face, Perez!"
Eddie glared at Gerrard, and thrust the book at him, opened to a specific page and said, "The name's Diaz, Captain. You'll notice, per the regulations set forth by the LAFD, Mustaches are permitted, so long as they do not extend below the bottom of the upper lip, nor more than one half inch beyond the corner of the mouth." Gerrard snatched the book out of Eddie's hand and reads, a look of pure anger spreading across his jowly face.
"As you can see, I am conforming to the letter of the regulations. I have a ruler, if you'd like to measure it." Eddie pulls out a red plastic ruler, waving it nonchalantly in the air. Unamused, Gerrard growled, "Get to work." He turned on his heel and marched off to his office. Well, Bobby's office.
And so, Eddie Diaz, Buck's best friend in the 118, if not the entire world, began to obey the rules set forth by Gerrard and the LAFD just enough to not get in trouble. No more, no less.
On this morning, as Buck ran to catch up to Bobby and Eddie as they entered the 118, Buck noticed that Eddie's hair was looking a little longer. It was neatly brushed and clean, but it wasn't gelled into place in a hard hair helmet. Instead, it fell softly, a couple of loose locks sweeping down his forehead. It looked good on him. But it was a bit longer than regulation, Buck was sure of it. He whispered as they walked in, "Hey, Gerrard is going to yell at you to get a haircut."
Eddie scoffed. "Let him try. I photocopied the regulations on hairstyles and grooming. My hair length and styling is well within the acceptable category. I can even let it grow out a bit without any sort of infraction. If he so much as looks at me funny, I'll plaster the regulations all over the building."
"Jesus Christ, Eds," Buck hissed, "are you trying to get fired?" Eddie continued walking to the locker room, and was already changing into his uniform by the time Buck caught up to him. "Listen," He continued, undeterred. "I just don't want to lose you as my partner. Do you know how hard it was to break you in. I don't want to have to start from square one again."
Eddie turned to him, prepared to tell Buck off, But there was suddenly a softness in his eyes, and he held Buck's gaze for a moment, before saying, "You don't need to worry Buck. I need this job too much to ever leave." Buck let out a tiny sigh of relief. Then Eddie continued. "How else am I ever going to afford all of Christopher's doctors appointments, field trips, and fancy meals you're always preparing for us."
Buck chuckled as he and Eddie finished changing into their uniforms. Buck noticed that Eddie was looking a bit more muscular of late. He knew that since Christopher wasn't around, Eddie had been at a loose end. Eddie told him that he had been working out to try and keep his days busy. He had a brief flash of memory; Eddie sick with worry, getting involved with the illegal fighting ring…shit. Buck made a mental note to get with Hen and Chimney. They would have to make sure Eddie stayed out of trouble. As soon as they were changed, the A shift gathered together in front of the firetrucks for the morning lineup.
Within moments, Captain Vincent Gerrard emerged from his office, like some ancient, half rotten butterfly from a pustule covered cocoon. He shuffled toward the lineup, his sallow skin already covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Buck tried to shake the image, so he looked away from the elderly man, catching sight of Eddie, who rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. What the hell? Buck thought, don't get yourself fired, Diaz. I will have to kick your ass if you do. He needn't have worried, though, as Gerrard's attention was immediately taken by the presence of Bobby.
"Nash, what are you doing here?" He asked the former Captain of the 118.
Bobby fixed a pleasant smile on his face and replied, "Good morning Captain Gerrard. I was told by the Chief to report here in the mornings, going forward. They are supposed to have sent a Plan to you, regarding my eventual reinstatement. I will spend the mornings here, working on the plan, with afternoons in my therapy sessions. Twice a week I —"
Gerrard sighed. "Fine, Nash. Just go to my office and wait for me. We'll figure out where to set you up so you can work your 'plan'. I'll be in soon." Bobby looked around him, hoping he'd be allowed to stay for the morning lineup; however, Gerrard made it quite clear he was not welcome. Buck saw his former Captain's shoulders slump as he walked to the Captain's office.
Over the next five minutes, Gerrard walked down the line, examining each of his fire fighters as he walked. Searching for any sine of noncompliance, any possible chance he had to punish someone, anyone for an infraction. He paused as he reached Ravi. He cleared his throat loudly and said, "You! What is your name?"
Ravi cleared his throat. "Ravi, sir," he managed, "My name is Ravi Panikkar," Gerrard trained an eye on the younger firefighter, assessing his tone, demeanor, and appearance. When he was…more or less satisfied, he said, "You'll do for now. Consider yourself permanently transferred to A Shift." Ravi looked around, confused.
"A shift, sir? But I wasn't looking for a transfer. I was only helping to cover—"
"I wasn't asking. I was informing you." Gerrard glared at the younger man, indicating the interaction was complete. He walked down the line, giving only a cursory glance to Hen and Chimney, muttering as he passed. Buck and Eddie stood at the end of the lineup, each dreading their own inspections for different reasons. Eddie was certainly afraid that he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to punch the man in the face, and Buck was nervous because…well, because he had a feeling that Gerrard knew.
He stopped in front of Eddie and released a disgusted sigh. "Ramirez, how long are you going to keep that thing on your face?" referring, of course, to his mustache.
Looking straight ahead, Eddie replied, "It's Diaz, sir. And as long as it takes."
Buck expected Gerrard to demand what that meant, but the old man grumbled and turned his focus on him, instead. He looked Buck up and down before saying, "You look…acceptable today, Buckley." Buck closed his eyes and sighed in relief.
Before moving on from them, Gerrard finished by saying to Buck, "Maybe see if you can use your influence over your friend here, get him to comply to the rules and regulations of the LAFD." Buck gave a curt nod, making a mental note to stick close to Eddie and keep him out of trouble — well, more trouble.
Apparently satisfied, Gerrard stepped back and surveyed the A shift one final time. However, instead of dismissing them, Gerrard made an announcement.
"Beginning this week, I'll be making some changes to the way we operate while out on a call," he began, pulling a tiny notebook from his pocket and began to read.
"We need to be more versatile as a department. You've all performed adequately, for the most part — " that earned a disgusted snort from Eddie, who in turn received a withering look from Gerrard.
"That said," the captain continued, "We are going to mix up the partnerships a bit. We should be able to work instinctively with any member of the shift, at any time." That…made some sense, Buck had to admit, though it was reluctant. It appeared from the looks on Hen and Chim's faces that they agreed, but there was definite trepidation in the older firefighters' faces.
"So, When I read your partnerships off, go ahead and stand next to each other. Gerrard made his way through the A shift roster, leaving Buck and his team for last. That was concerning. Finally, Gerrard said, "Henrietta, You'll be partnered with Evan." Hen nodded and said, "Yes, sir."
"Howard," Gerrard continued, "You'll be working with the other one."
Chimney looked between Eddie and Ravi, then said, "I'm sorry, who am I working with?" Gerrard rolled his eyes. And pointed at Ravi.
"Him. Was I not clear enough?" His jaundiced eyes focused on Chim, who simply nodded and saluted. Buck and Hen looked at Eddie, concern growing. Eddie could not be left alone while on calls. That could be disastrous. Eddie must have been thinking the same thing.
"Excuse me…Captain. What about me?"
Gerrard smiled. It was malicious, ugly. "Well, Eduardo —"
"— Edmundo," Eddie interrupted.
"— fine, Edmundo. You are going to be our runner." Eddie mouthed the word runner? Gerrard rolled his eyes and explained.
"Since we are an odd number now, Edmundo, it will be your responsibility while on calls to assist the teams that need the most help at any given moment. That's why you all have radios. Let's say Henderson and James need help while everyone is putting out a fire. They'll radio you and request your assistance. You go, help them out, then move on to the next team that need help. Not that hard, right?"
"Got it." Eddie said, expressionless.
"Good." Gerrard turned his back to the line and said, "Make yourselves useful until we get a call."
Eddie
Once lineup is dismissed, Eddie tried to duck out for a minute, to try and catch his breath. That asshole Gerrard was going to be the death of him. Normally, Eddie wouldn't mind working solo, bouncing around to wherever he was needed most. But ever since Chris left, he didn't trust himself fully. Some days he was fine, could get through a whole shift with no issues. But then there were days like the previous Wednesday. A car accident with a teenage boy flung from the car. Broken arm, four broken ribs, and the unbroken arm's shoulder was dislocated. Seeing that boy, who couldn't have been much older than Christopher, triggered the beginning of a panic attack for Eddie.
Luckily Hen clocked it when she did. She told Chimney and Buck to handle the boy, and she pulled Eddie aside to get him centered and breathing. While Buck had been kind enough not to tell the team about everything that happened, they did know that something happened to upset Christopher enough to want to move in with his grandparents for a bit. He would be forever grateful that this one time, Hen and Chimney respected his privacy. Although it had begun to make him feel like a liability at times like this. Would the pain ever stop?
Eddie felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was suddenly back at the 118, panic attack long since resolved. He turned and saw Buck, giving him a kind, if not worried smile. "You OK, Eds?" The younger man searched his face for any sign of dishonesty.
He took a breath, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. "Yeah," He said, forcing a smile, "I'll be fine."
Buck squinted at him, searching for…something. Finally he smiled back and said, "Alright then. Let's go do some inventory." That earned buck a well-deserved groan. Because that meant Clipboard Buck was going to make an appearance.
Of course, the groan was just for show. Secretly, Eddie kind of adored Clipboard Buck. It was one of the few times Buck allowed himself to be sassy. And if there was anything in the world that Eddie longed for, it was someone that could match his own level of sass.
So, off they went to inventory supplies, Buck with clipboard in hand, Eddie with hands in pockets.
They were productive for the first twenty minutes or so, until Buck gained the courage to figure out how Eddie was doing. "So, Eddie, how are you? Really?"
Eddie sighed. With anyone else, he'd likely brush past the question with a 'fine' or a shrug. But Buck had been there when his world crashed down around him. It had been Buck that stood by his side as Christopher walked out the door with his parents; Buck who rested a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder; It had been Buck that caught him when he couldn't hold it in any longer and fell to the ground, sobbing. After that, Buck had spent at least a few hours every day at Eddie's place, sometimes spending the night. So, the least he could do for Buck was give him honesty.
"Really, Buck. I'm not doing that well. My son refuses to speak to me. My parents have requested that I do not call them anymore; to wait until Christopher is ready to talk. As much as I want to tell them exactly what I think, I know they are right. The more I reach out to him, the more Christopher pulls away."
Buck nodded. He loved both of the Diaz boys so much. But he would be the first to admit that they were equally stubborn and prone to self-destructive behaviors when hurt or feeling cornered.
"What are you up to when we get out of work? Any plans?" Buck couldn't remember if anyone volunteered to hang out with Eddie over the next few days. They had all agreed to try and spend as much time with him as possible, to prevent any potential for wallowing or depression to set in too deeply. But as he had plans with Tommy the following evening, he wasn't sure who was going to be taking up the reins.
Eddie eyed his best friend with suspicion. "I have an appointment with Frank after work. Then I was going to do…something active. Then a nap. In the evening Hen invited me over for a movie night."
Buck nodded, relief washing over him. Good, he'll be taken care of.
Eddie shook his head. "You don't need to worry. I'm sticking to your babysitting schedule." He chuckled at the way Buck's mouth dropped, a gaping O in the middle of his face. "It's fine, really. I need to socialize more, I know that. In fact, it has been a major topic of conversation during my appointments with Frank."
He returned his attention to the cases of gloves he had been counting just a moment before, trying to ignore the bright smile that spread across Buck's face. There was something about that smile that always made the heat rise in Eddie's face. There was something about the way Buck focused all of his attention on him that made him simultaneously self-conscious and incredibly important. And that made him feel…something. Something he was just a little too scared to examine too closely.
"There are four cases of the large gloves, five cases of the medium and two cases of the small," he reported, before moving on to the bandages. As he was counting the boxes of large rolls, he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He closed his eyes. "What's up, Buck?"
He turned to face his friend, and saw the look of concern in his eyes. "Nothing. I was just thinking maybe I cancel my plans for the night, and we hang out instead." Eddie smiled.
"As much fun as I know spending an evening with you would be…No. You and Tommy haven't spent that much time together in the last couple of weeks. I don't want to be the reason for yet another cancellation." Buck's face fell and Eddie felt a pang of guilt. "Besides," he continued, trying to keep it light, "Hen and Karen have been dying to show me some classic romcoms for ages. We'll figure something out over the next couple of days though."
The ghost of a smile returned to Buck's face. "Sure. Hey! I know. I asked Bobby and Athena over for lunch on the next day off. Maybe you can join us."
Eddie hedged. "I mean, you have plans with them. I'm sure they don't want to have an uninvited guest crash their lunch date with you."
Buck scoffed. "Get real, Diaz. Bobby and Athena love you." He paused, made a thoughtful face, then said, "I mean, they don't love you as much as me, but they love you. And besides, Athena has been asking about you." Eddie frowned. "Don't make that face. She wants to know that you are ok. So, lunch with us is actually the least you can do."
Eddie sighed. "Fine. I'll—"
"Am I interrupting something in here?" came a voice from behind Eddie. He saw Buck's face fall, the hand on his shoulder suddenly gripping tightly. Eddie didn't need to turn his head to know that the obnoxious voice belonged to their interim captain. Shit. He turned to face Gerrard, Buck's hand falling from his shoulder.
"No, sir," He responded with surprising calm. "Buck and I were just talking about something that I've been going through outside of work. I was just assuring him that everything is fine."
Gerrard, for his part, looked disinterested in Eddie's home life. He did however, usher them out onto the floor. When He had them both out in the open, he laid into them.
"Since you two seem to enjoy your little gab sessions so much, I'm afraid I'm going to have to make some more changes going forward." He pointed his finger at Eddie, poking at the air as he spoke. "From now on, as long as you're on the clock, there will be no more girl talk for the two of you." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Buck flinch.
"Buckley," Gerrard said, flapping his hand toward the supply closet, "Get back to inventorying. You," he said, finger jabbing at Eddie, "Get your ass over to help Howard and Henrietta with the cleaning." Eddie nodded, his face reddening in anger. He turned toward the firetrucks, hoping to escape before he did something he'd regret. As he walked away, Ravi poked his head out from where He'd been sweeping the floor.
"You!" Gerrard said to the younger firefighter, "Go help Buckley with the inventory."
Ravi pointed at himself and said, "Me, sir?"
Gerrard rolled his eyes. "Yes, you! Who the hell else would I be talking to? Get in there now!" Ravi squeeked, and ran off, still carrying the broom he'd been using only a moment ago. Eddie stalked off to find Hen and Chim.
He heard the two of them before he saw them. At first, he was just going to bound over and ask them where he was needed. But there was something about their conversation that made him pause.
"What do you think they were doing?" That was Chimney. He could imagine the two of them, heads close as they were doing their tasks around the station. Hen was quiet for a moment before responding.
"Knowing the two of them, they were Buddieing." Buddieing, Eddie wondered what the hell that meant.
"Probably," Chim responded, sighing. "We really should have a chat with them about that." He heard Hen say something he couldn't quite make out.
After a moment she said, "But how do you tell them that their friendship is going to draw the wrong type of attention from their new captain? Let's face it, Gerrard doesn't get that that is just how the two of them are." She grunted as she moved, then said, "The whole work husbands thing is totally lost on a fossil like him."
Work husband? Buddieing? What the hell are these two talking about? Eddie knew that he and Buck had a strong bond and closer than average friendship. But how could they not. They'd been through so much over the course of seven years. Tsunamis, well collapses, shootings, and lightning strikes. Any two people to survive what they had been through would be close as family. Closer, even.
"I just worry about them," Chimney said after a beat. "The second he finds out Buck is Bisexual, He is going to be even worse."
Hen sighed. "I know. I need to talk to them. I promised Bobby I'd watch out for them. They are both in such a pivotal place in their lives. If Gerrard screws this up for them, I…I don't know what I'll do."
Chimney said, "There's only so much you can do alone, Hen. You have an uphill battle to get Mara back in your house. You can't do anything to jeopardize that. Maddie and I will have to help out more." There was a beat of silence, then Chimney said, "Not to change the subject, or anything, but are you and Karen still on for family dinner Saturday night? Mara has really been missing you."
Eddie heard Hen sniff, then a soft chuckle. "You know we wouldn't miss it. Gotta spend as much time as we can with our little girl. She needs to know that she is loved."
Eddie could hear the smile in Chimney's voice when he said, "She knows. And she is loved by two families, which is even better."
Eddie felt a bit sleazy eavesdropping, so he walked back toward the main floor, then made a production of walking back toward Chim and Hen. "Chimney, Hen? Where are you guys. I've been sent to help out."
Hen and Chimney jump when they hear his voice, turning quickly to face him. The expressions on their faces are so guilty that even if he hadn't overheard them, he would have known something was up. As they stammered out instructions, He shook his head and smiled. But as he got to work he couldn't help but wonder what their conversation meant. His relationship with Buck wasn't that unusual, was it?
Buck
Though the shift had been grueling, by 8:00 AM the following morning, the 118 A shift was in the parking lot, saying their goodbyes and departing for home. Buck hung back and followed Eddie out. He noticed the watchful eye of Gerrard on them as they passed, a look of disgust firmly planted on his face. Eddie must have noticed, too, because he waved goodbye to the captain as they passed, fingers waggling and a sweet, yet snarky smile on his face as he did so.
Once outside, Eddie made a beeline for his truck. Buck glanced quickly around the parking lot, but did not yet see Tommy's truck. So, he followed his best friend to his truck to chat for a few minutes before they went their separate ways.
"So, you're off to your appointment now?" he asked, leaning against the driver's side door. Eddie looked up from his cellphone, which he had pulled out as soon as he had passed Gerrard on the way out.
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Hopefully it'll go fast. I know I said I would commit to therapy, for Christopher's sake, but I have such a hard time getting anything out of the sessions. We keep going over Shannon, my general fear of commitment, and lack of interests outside of raising my son. And look, These are all important topics, but I'm not actually resolving anything at this point." He sighed and put his phone back into his pocket before rubbing a hand over his face.
Buck reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're trying, Eddie. But I think you'll find it takes more than two or three sessions for you to start being able to resolve these issues. Sometimes people are in therapy for years before they start to see results." Eddie let out a defeated sigh.
"That's what scares me. What if I can't get these issues figured out? Christopher could potentially never forgive me. He could end up going no contact, and live with my parents permanently. I do believe that would kill me." Buck had no doubt in his mind that Eddie was correct. He contemplated reaching out to Christopher, himself, but remembered the annoyed text he received from Christopher the one time he tried reaching out after he had arrived in Texas: I know you're trying to help, Buck. Please don't contact me. You're Dad's friend too. And there it was. For the first time since he'd met the Diaz family, Buck had gone from Christopher's Buck, to Eddie's Buck. As much as that should have hurt, Buck felt comforted. At least he was a part of their lives, in any capacity.
A horn honked from the parking lot entrance, and Buck saw Tommy's truck pulling in. Without thinking, Buck wrapped Eddie in a quick bear hug and whispered in his ear, "Call me if you need anything. I mean it!" Then he pulled away and ran to Tommy's truck.
He hopped into the passenger seat and planted a kiss on Tommy's lips. The thin line of Tommy's mouth slowly gave way, parting briefly to allow the tangling of tongues, and a clicking of teeth, before he pulled away and said, "Ready for some breakfast?"
Buck smiled, "I certainly am."
Tommy gave a stiff nod and said, "Good, because Daddy is starving." As he turned his attention to the road ahead, Tommy failed to notice how Buck's playful smile fell from his face, and his head turned to look out the passenger window.
Eddie
Eddie made it to Frank's office with ten minutes to spare. He checked in with the receptionist and perused an old copy of Better Homes and Gardens. He was almost positive this copy had been there for a while. There was an article he remembered reading when he was in for therapy before. When the receptionist says he can go in, he is relieved.
"So, Eddie, since we spent so much time last session talking about Shannon, I thought we'd spend a little time today on Christopher." Frank's voice was soft, tentative. He had avoided the conversation over the last two sessions, for obvious reasons. But Eddie knew that sooner or later he'd have to talk about his son.
"Sure. Where should we start?" He dropped his head back, letting it rest on the back of the sofa, closing his eyes.
"The easiest place to start is, have you spoken with him since the event to place?" 'the event'. That is how Frank referred to a woman who was nearly identical to his deceased wife taking it upon herself to dress up like said deceased wife, in some well-intentioned, but unsanctioned form of exposure therapy, whereupon Eddie's teenage son and girlfriend—ex girlfriend, he had to remind himself more than once, walked in on the two of them. But how would he even begin to talk about any of that?
"No," He said finally, "He and my parents requested that I refrain from calling any of them. My mother, specifically, told me that Christopher would call me when he was ready. So now I'm stuck, waiting." Frank made a sympathetic noise, as his pen scratched away in his notepad.
"What about Marisol? Kim? Have you spoken with either of them since the event?" He knew that question was coming. He dreaded this question less, though. The answers didn't hurt as much. Actually, the answers didn't hurt at all. Did that make him a bad person, Eddie wondered.
"Marisol called me the day after Christopher left." Apparently he felt comfortable enough with her to tell her what he decided to do. That hurt. But he supposed he deserved it. "She informed me that she couldn't see herself trusting me ever again. I tried to explain what was happening, but honestly, I wouldn't have wanted to listen to me come up with excuses if I was her, either." More pen scratches on paper. "She arranged to come and pick up the few things she had left at my house over this last weekend."
"Did she say anything to you when she arrived?" Frank interrupted, briefly.
"No. She requested a third party be there instead. Buck was only too happy to oblige on that front. He let her in, helped her gather up her things, and she was gone. She has since blocked my phone number, and blocked me on all of her social media accounts." He took a shaky breath. He really was a complete asshole. He deserved every horrible thing that was happening to him now.
"Stop it, Eddie." Frank said, staring at him over the notebook.
"Stop what?" He asked, his brows furrowing.
"Your little shame spiral you're working on." Frank set his notebook aside for a moment. "You made a mistake. Yes, it was a huge mistake, and everyone involved has every right to be angry with you." Eddie's head dropped forward and tears formed in his eyes.
"But you deserve forgiveness. Marisol may never forgive you. But Christopher will. As long as you respect his boundaries and allow him to process his feelings, I am certain he will eventually come around. But you must keep in mind, he is a teenager. So forgiveness may take a bit longer." Frank picked up his notebook and resumed.
"Have you heard anything from Kim since the event?"
Eddie sighed. "Yes. She called me a few days ago. She was apologetic about the situation. She thought she was doing me a favor; free therapy. Yell at your deceased wife through her doppelganger."
Frank gave a slight chuckle at that. "It is an interesting idea. In theory. You may be one of the only examples of that type of situation happening." He became serious once more, the moment over. "Did it help you at all, before everything went bad."
Eddie thought for a moment before answering. In the moment it didn't feel at all helpful. She had pushed her way in, demanding that he play along with her plan, to say all the things he never got to say to Shannon, to her. And even though he knew that it wasn't really Shannon… "It helped me to say things I never would have said to Shannon. Things that would probably have hurt her if I had." An image comes to him. Kim, with Shannon's haircut, clothing similar to Shannon, standing before him, with tears in her eyes. It's broken. I'm broken. And I can't fix it. He'd meant every word of that in the moment. Even now, there are parts of him that still feel broken. Shannon was gone. Forever. And whatever chance he thought he might have had to make things better with her were gone as well. "How do I move on from this? How do I move on from what might have been the great love of my life?"
"Might have been?" Frank asks.
Eddie looked at Frank, sitting in front of him, listening intently to every word that came out of his mouth. "She's the only woman I've ever felt that amount of love for. She was the mother of my son, the single best thing to ever happen in my life. Wouldn't that make her the great love of my life?"
Frank thought about that for a moment before responding. Eddie looked up at the ceiling, almost afraid of how his therapist would respond. When he finally did respond, it wasn't what Eddie was expecting.
"I think," he said, writing as he spoke, "that if Shannon was truly the great love of your life, you'd know, beyond a shadow of a doubt. The fact that you are asking, makes me think that perhaps she was just a love of your life." Eddie dropped his gaze back to Frank. "I have a feeling that for you, if such a person exists, yours is still out there. They are out their living their life, waiting for you to find them."
Oddly, that thought didn't fill him with dread. Someone still out there, waiting to be found. Maybe. But who would that even be?