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Eddie never used to mind rain, until he did. He still dealt with it, of course. He didn’t have much choice, you know? Life couldn’t stop because the clouds got heavy, too full up on people’s used car washes and fish’s bath water, and opened up on Los Angeles. Really, he was lucky. In sunny LA, the golden state’s pride and joy, it rarely ever rained.
Except when it did, it was often a doozy of a storm.
It was sometime after the well incident, as deemed by Chimney who was almost always the first to make jokes out of the team’s near death experiences since he’d had the first, that it rained again for the first time. Eddie hadn’t been prepared for the panic attack it would cause. He hadn’t been ready for the haunting realization, suffocating in muggy heat under the awning of a grocery store, that he may never be able to handle the rain without having to grit his teeth and swallow his emotions again.
Therapy had helped. It did. But that wasn’t to say he hadn’t still gotten into the habit of checking his weather app a number of times throughout the day, never quite trusting the stupid smiling sun that beamed at him from above the day’s current temperature. And on the days it had frowning storms, he frowned back and spent all day swallowing down fear and all but checking the ground below him to see if it was stable.
No one had ever seemed to notice. Eddie was okay with that, really. While therapy was good and he was definitely better ay dealing with his emotions, he certainly wasn’t entirely comfortable with others pinpointing and calling them out to him.
Which is why this was suddenly so difficult.
It hadn’t been on the list to think about, after everything. Once Buck had woken up, had breathed on his own and smiled his too bright, cheek-aching grin, there were other things to think about. Important things.
Were his tests showing improvement? Was he understanding what had happened, that he’d left this earth for three minutes and seventeen seconds, the worst three minutes and seventeen seconds of his family’s lives? Would he be able to walk and breathe on his own? How intensive did his physical therapy need to be? When would he be moving into someone else’s house and whose? Since, obviously, he wasn’t going home alone.
Really, there was a lot to think about. When it came to Buck’s mental health, that was more focused on his new daily checklist to prove he was real and the impending breakdown over his actual death. Eddie sort of… forgot about the afters. The layers and the next time arounds.
Which is why, sitting in the school parking lot, waiting to go inside and get Christopher for a surprise half day was suddenly becoming an emotional obstacle course. Buck had wanted to take Chris out of class midday for a surprise trip to the pop-up exhibit at the science museum. Chris wasn’t even aware it was in town and it was an in depth look at anatomy and humans versus animal’s bodies. Buck had been over the moon and had all but begged to take him. Eddie never had a chance in saying no.
Now, though, they were both glued to their seats. It had become an unspoken routine that when it rained, drizzle or downpour, Buck would slip out of whatever vehicle it was and do whatever tasks had to be done while Eddie waited. Even on the clock, Buck would find ways to subtly keep Eddie out of the majority of the storm, tucked inside the ambulance or inside someone’s car. Eddie had never once said a word, just gratefully took the help and prayed they’d never have to speak about it.
Except now, Buck’s knuckles were white on the wheel and his eyes were glued not on the office door but rather on the lazy sluice of water down to the drain on the sidewalk. He looked ashen and Eddie was sure if he were to pry Buck’s fingers from the wheel they’d shake.
He should’ve known. Should’ve thought about it. Storms had become something of a phobia for him after nearly drowning in a well forty feet below ground. Why wouldn’t the same happen to Buck who had been hundreds of feet in the air, struck by millions of joules of electricity and thrown off the ladder? Why hadn’t Eddie used a single braincell?
So, there wasn’t really even a choice. Not really, not for Eddie. Taking a quick breath, finding the anchor that tethered him to earth, the weight of a delicate silver pendent on the crook of his collarbone and the scent of wild berry that stuck to all of his clothes thanks to Buck, he quirked a grin.
“I got this one, Buck. No worries,” Giving him no chance to argue, Eddie threw open the door and hopped out. Water splashed along his ankles, up into his socks, making him grimace.
Quickly, he hurried over to the front door, turning only once to wave back at Buck like a kid saying goodbye to their parent. It was enough time to catch the relief, gratefulness, and the hint of love welling up on Buck’s face. Turning back around, Eddie headed inside.
There was a lot of work to do, a lot of healing to be accomplished. But they’d do it together. Just like always, the three of them.