Buck is struggling.
And when he struggles, he shuts people out.
His husband gets the brunt of it.
(Angst with a happy ending y'all don't worry)
TW! mentions/thoughts of self harm.
The house was dark when Eddie walked in, exhaustion pulling at his every muscle. The dim light from the kitchen spilled into the hallway, casting long, somber shadows. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it neatly on the rack. The silence was heavy, heavier than it should be at eight o'clock at night.
Buck was sitting at the kitchen table, staring into a mug of coffee gone cold. His blue eyes were clouded, distant, the usual spark nowhere to be found. He saw Eddie walk in from the corner of his eye, but couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with his husband.
"Hey," Eddie said softly, pulling out a chair across from Buck. The word seemed to echo in the stillness.
Buck looked up, his expression blank. "Hey," he replied, voice completely rid of its usual warmth.
Eddie studied him for a moment, taking in the dark circles under Buck's eyes, the tension in his jaw. They had been here before, too many times to count lately. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved issues hung between them like a dense fog, suffocating and relentless.
"How was your shift?" Eddie asked, trying to hold the conversation.
"Busy," Buck said, his gaze dropping back to the mug. "Yours?"
Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The same. Always is."
A heavy silence settled over them again, and Eddie felt the familiar frustration bubbling up inside him. He wanted to reach across the table, to take Buck's hand and tell him that they would figure this out, that they were stronger than the storm brewing around them. But the words seemed to lodge in his throat, stubbornly refusing to come out.
"I saw Christopher's teacher today," he said instead, hoping to find common ground. "She said he's doing really well in school. He's getting better at math."
A faint smile tugged at Buck's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's great. He's a smart kid."
"Yeah," Eddie agreed, his chest tightening. "He misses you, you know."
Buck's eyes flicked up, pain and guilt flashing across his face. "I know. I miss him too."
Eddie swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing. "Then why are you pulling away? Why does it feel like you're not really here anymore?"
Buck's fingers tightened around the mug, his knuckles turning white. "I'm not pulling away," he said quietly.
"You are. We're married, Buck. We're supposed to face things together, not alone."
Buck stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm not pulling away."
Eddie was startled, even a little scared. Buck never acted this way—aggressively.
"I see you, baby. I see you struggling, and it kills me because I don't know how to help you. But shutting me out isn't the answer."
Buck ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched in every line of his face. "I don't know who I am outside of this!"
Eddie's heart ached at the words, at the distance they implied. "Who you are outside of this? You mean.. outside of us?" He feels like he could cry right now. And he has no idea where it all went wrong.
