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The teasing started small. It always did.
Buck and Eddie had never exactly been subtle. Not when Eddie brought Buck homemade lunches “because you forget to eat when you’re stressed.” Not when Buck showed up to every one of Christopher’s school events like he’d signed a contract in blood. Not when they moved in together and claimed it was “just practical.”
The 118 noticed because Of course they did.
It started with Chim.
“Oh, wow, Buck,” Chimney said one afternoon, leaning against the counter in the loft kitchen. “Didn’t know you were into interior decorating. Those throw pillows scream domestic bliss.”
Buck flushed. “They were on sale.”
Eddie didn’t even look up from his coffee. “He picked them because they matched the rug.”
Hen raised an eyebrow. “The rug he insisted you buy.”
“It ties the room together,” Buck muttered defensively.
Bobby hid a smile behind his mug. It was harmless, well mostly it was anyways.
Until it wasn’t.
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It escalated during a shift change. Buck had just come back from grabbing coffee for everyone—because he always did that—and Eddie took the tray from him with a soft, automatic, “Careful, it’s hot.”
Chim smirked. “You two are like an old married couple.”
“Worse,” someone muttered. “They’re codependent.”
Buck stiffened. Eddie’s jaw tightened just slightly. Everyone else was laughing. Hen noticed. She always noticed.
But before she could say anything, Maddie—who’d stopped by with Jee-Yun—laughed lightly.
“Oh come on, it’s sweet. You two are basically attached at the hip. It’s kind of intense.” she said with a smirk on her face
Buck’s smile just faltered. “It’s not intense,” he said quickly. “We just—”
“—rely on each other a lot,” Eddie finished, but there was something guarded in his voice now.
Chimney shrugged. “Just saying, man. It’s not healthy to put everything on one person.”
The kitchen went quieter. Buck felt that familiar old insecurity crawling up his spine. Too much. Too intense. Too needy. Why was he always like this? Eddie’s hand brushed his arm under the guise of taking his coffee.
Before anyone could say anything else, the bay doors opened.
And in walked Athena Grant. Athena was a force to be recond with when she was in protective Mama mode.
She hadn’t meant to overhear, that wasnt the plan. But Athena Grant did not miss things. She stepped fully into the kitchen, gaze sweeping the room. Years of being a cop had given her the ability to read tension like a crime scene.
Buck’s shoulders were tight. Eddie’s jaw was locked. The rest of the room looked vaguely guilty.
“What’s going on?” Athena asked calmly.
“No—nothing,” Buck said too fast.
Chim snorted softly. “Just giving the lovebirds a hard time.”
Athena’s eyebrow lifted.
“Lovebirds?” she repeated.
Hen winced.
“It’s just a joke,” Maddie added gently. “We were saying they’re a little… codependent.”
Athena set her bag down slowly. “Is that so.”
There was a shift in the air. The kind that happens before a storm. She stepped closer, shoes squeking against the floor.
“You know,” Athena began, voice smooth but firm, “I’ve been in this job a long time. I’ve seen what happens when firefighters don’t trust each other. When they hesitate. When they don’t know someone has their back.”
No one interrupted her. She gestured lightly toward Buck and Eddie.
“These two?” she continued. “They would walk into fire for each other without blinking. That’s not codependency. That’s trust.”
Buck stared at her. Eddie swallowed. Chim looked mildly uncomfortable.
“And as for being ‘intense,’” Athena went on, folding her arms, “I would rather have two firefighters who care too much than ones who don’t care enough.”
Silence.
No one would say anything to that. They knew better then to argue with Athena. She turned her gaze directly to Chim.
“You’re married to Maddie. Are you codependent?”
Chim blinked. “Well—that’s different.”
“Is it?” Athena asked mildly. Then to Hen. “You and Karen?”
Hen immediately shook her head. “Okay, point taken.”
Athena looked at Maddie last—not harshly, but steadily.
“Buck has spent most of his life being told he’s too much,” she said softly. “He doesn’t need to hear it from the people who are supposed to be his family.”
Maddie’s face fell slightly. Buck’s throat tightened. Eddie’s hand, this time not hidden, rested firmly at the small of Buck’s back.
“And Eddie,” Athena added, eyes shifting to him, “has fought like hell to build a stable life for his son. If that stability includes someone who shows up every single time, that’s not a weakness.”
Eddie’s voice was quiet. “Thank you.” Athena nodded once,
Then she turned to the rest of them.
“Tease about bad cooking. Tease about fashion choices. But don’t mistake devotion for dysfunction.”
The room was very, very quiet.
Finally Bobby cleared his throat. “She’s right.”
Hen exhaled. “Yeah. We’re sorry.”
Chim rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean it like that.”
Maddie stepped forward, touching Buck’s arm. “Hey. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think.”
Buck gave her a small smile. “It’s okay.”
But Athena shook her head slightly. This boy, seriously. He was to pure and much to forgiving “No. It’s not ‘okay.’ baby Words stick.”
Buck looked at her like she’d just seen something no one else had. Because she had.
Later, when Athena was heading out, Buck caught up to her by the engine bay.
“Athena?”
She turned.
“Thanks,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did,” she interrupted gently. “You boys protect this city. Somebody should protect you.”
Eddie stepped up beside him. Athena studied them both with a soft smile on her face.
“You love each other,” she said plainly. Not a question. Buck’s breath hitched. Eddie, however, didn’t deny it.
Athena’s lips curved slightly. “Then stop apologizing for it.”
She walked out before either of them could respond.
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Back inside, Chim was already dramatically announcing, “Alright, new rule. We only bully Buck about his couch.” The team laughed lightly at that.
“It’s a good couch!” Buck protested.
Eddie smirked. “It’s not.”
Hen laughed. “See? That’s healthy teasing.”
Buck bumped his shoulder against Eddie’s, And this time, when Eddie leaned into it, no one said a word.
Because Athena Grant had drawn the line.
And no one in the 118 was brave enough to cross it.
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LATER THAT NIGHT
It was late. The kind of late where the station finally exhaled. The rigs were restocked. The reports were done. Chim and Hen had retreated upstairs. Eddie was in the bunk room, pretending to sleep but definitely not.
Buck sat alone at the metal table in the kitchen, turning a coin over and over between his fingers. He hadn’t meant to let it get to him, But it had, and right now he didn't know how to feel about that.
The bay doors rolled open softly catching his attention.
Athena stepped inside, out of uniform now, blazer draped over one arm. She hadn’t planned on coming back—but she needed to pick up her phone charger that Bobby had borrowed. It was currently in Bobby’s office, where the man himself was residing.
She spotted Buck immediately.
“You always look like that when you’re thinking too hard,” she said.
Buck immediately went to deny it. “I don’t—”
“You do.”
She set her things down and pulled out the chair across from him without asking. For a moment, neither of them spoke, until finally, Buck let out a breath. “Does it ever stop?” he sounded so sad when he asked, it broke Athena’s heart. Who let her boy believe this.
Athena studied him. “Does what stop?”
“Feeling like I’m… too much.” There it was. Not dramatic, Not loud. Just honest. Athena leaned back slightly.
“Who told you that first?” she asked.
Buck blinked. “What?”
“Somebody did,” she said calmly. “Nobody wakes up one day and invents that about themselves.”
“My parents,” he admitted quietly. “Teachers. Coaches. Exes.” He gave a small, humorless laugh. “I try so hard to be what people need. And somehow I still manage to be wrong.”
Athena’s expression softened—but not in a pitying way. In a knowing way. “You know what I see?” she asked.
“I see a man who feels everything at full volume,” she said. “Who loves without holding back. Who shows up. Every time.”
Buck swallowed.
“And I see someone who was taught that intensity is a flaw instead of a gift.” Athena continued. She would like to get her hands om anyone who made this ray of sunshine feel like that.
He stared at her like she’d reached inside his chest and rearranged something.
“But what if they’re right?” he whispered. “What if I lean too hard? What if I make it… suffocating?”
Athena’s voice didn’t waver. “Does Eddie look suffocated?”
Buck’s breath hitched. “No.”
“Does Christopher?”
A tiny, immediate shake of his head.
“Does Bobby? Maddie? Hen?” she continued asking.
“No.”
Athena leaned forward slightly. “Then maybe,” she said gently, “the problem was never that you were too much.”
Buck’s eyes were bright now, but he blinked rapidly.
“Maybe you were just giving your heart to people who didn’t know how to hold it.” She smiled softly at him.
The kitchen felt very small and very quiet.
Buck let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to turn it down.”
“Good,” Athena said firmly.
He looked up, ever so slightly confused.
“This job? This family? That boy upstairs?” She gave him a pointed look. “They don’t need you smaller. They need you exactly as you are.”
His throat closed up, rears burning his eyes.
Athena’s tone softened again. “And if someone ever tells you you’re too much,” she added, “you tell them Sergeant Athena Grant said they’re not enough.”
A startled laugh broke out of him.
“There it is,” she said, satisfied. For a second, Buck looked younger. Lighter. Then his expression grew serious again.
“Why do you care?” he asked quietly.
“Because I know what it’s like to carry strength like it’s a burden,” she said. “And because you remind me of someone who needed someone in their corner once.”
After a moment, he stood. He hesitated—then leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. It was awkward, Sudden and completely and Entirely Buck. Athena stiffened for half a second out of instinct. Then she hugged him back.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She patted his back once. “Don’t make me regret this.”
From the hallway, Eddie had been watching the whole time. Athena noticed him immediately. She raised one eyebrow in silent warning. Eddie placed a hand over his heart dramatically and mouthed, I know. She nodded once.
Buck turned, saw Eddie, and for a brief second that old insecurity flickered. Eddie stepped forward without hesitation, cupped the back of Buck’s neck, and pressed his forehead gently to Buck’s.
“Never too much,” he said quietly.
Athena stood, collected her blazer.
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not having this conversation twice.”
She walked out, heels echoing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, Buck didn’t feel like he needed to shrink to stay loved.