Post 8.09 and thinking about a different kind of “oh” moment for Eddie. He’s standing in his (soon-to-be someone else’s) living room and so much is happening his team is in his house and he has to be a salesman and he’s mad at Buck and he doesn’t want to leave but he has to go and suddenly—
Buck is smiling like the day’s been perfect, and not some hollow mirror of five years ago, and three years ago too. He grins, and Buck is Freddy. There is no Freddy. His home isn’t a showroom tonight. Buck is renting. Buck is hiding his hurt and renting. He’s fixing it for Eddie, no questions asked. He’s fixing it. He’s fixing it.
“You really did that for me?”
Of course he did.
Suddenly, and much more clearly than ever before, Eddie knows that Buck loves him. Buck loves Eddie so much that he can feel it turning and pulling at the bottom of his stomach, sort of nauseating and overwhelming and terrifyingly real and certainly undeserved; it’s dread as much as its fear as much as its gratitude.
Buck loves Eddie. And now Eddie has to leave.
He has to give that up because he cannot, under any circumstance, choose Buck over his son. Buck said it himself, it’s not even a question. He’s going to Texas and he’ll be with his son but he’ll be without his biggest supporter and best friend, the person who may just love him the most in the entire fucking world, for God knows how long. Weeks. Months? Years?
And for the second time that week, Eddie thinks that he doesn’t know what he’s gonna do without Buck.
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