Work Text:
Theo’s preschool sends home a “My Family” worksheet on a random Tuesday.
Buck finds it crumpled in the bottom of Theo’s backpack while he’s digging for the missing snack container Eddie swears they own approximately nine of. The worksheet is covered in crooked crayon drawings and backwards letters.
At the top, in giant purple marker, Theo has written:
MY FAMILY
There’s a drawing of Christopher with stick legs and a soccer ball bigger than his head. Eddie has dark scribbles for hair and giant firefighter boots. Pepa is there too, wearing a crown for reasons Theo probably fully understands.
And Buck. Buck’s drawing has yellow arms stretching halfway across the page and what appears to be a dinosaur next to him. Under every picture is a label.
Tia.
Christopher.
Eddie.
Under Buck’s, though, the paper is worn thin from erasing. Buck can still make out faint pencil marks beneath the rubbed-up patch. D-A-
Then nothing.
“Theo?” he calls gently.
Theo looks up from the living room floor where he and Christopher are building a Lego fire station. “Yeah?”
Buck keeps his voice casual as he leans against the counter. “C’mere a sec, buddy.”
Theo pads into the kitchen in fire socks. Buck turns the worksheet around carefully. “What happened here?”
Theo immediately goes quiet. Not guilty quiet. Nervous quiet. Buck’s stomach drops. “You’re not in trouble,” he says quickly.
Theo picks at the hem of his shirt. “Eli said it was weird.”
Buck frowns. “What was weird?”
“That I call you Buck.” The words land harder than they should.
Buck crouches down slowly. “Okay.”
Theo stares at the worksheet instead of him. “And Miss Jenny asked if maybe I wanted to call you Dad instead.”
Buck feels like someone shoved a fist straight through his ribcage. “Oh.”
Theo’s tiny shoulders hunch. “I didn’t know the right answer.”
Jesus Christ.
Buck has survived collapsed buildings, lightning strikes, tsunamis, and a ladder truck exploding underneath him. Nothing has ever made him feel this helpless.
-
That night Eddie walks into the kitchen at eleven-thirty after a may-day text to find Buck surrounded by chaos. The dining table is buried under printed articles. There are sticky notes everywhere. Three parenting books. A note pad. A laptop open to something titled Talking to Young Children About Adoption and Loss.
Buck himself looks one inconvenience away from cardiac arrest. Eddie blinks. “…Are those flashcards?”
Buck doesn’t even look up. “Maybe.”
“Oh my God.”
“I can’t screw this up, Eddie.”
Eddie softens immediately. Buck drags a hand through his hair hard enough to make it stand up everywhere. “He’s five. He’s little, Eddie. What if I say the wrong thing and suddenly he thinks Connor and Kameron didn’t love him enough? Or I’m replacing them? Or-”
“Buck.”
“What if he thinks I want him to forget them?”
Eddie walks over quietly. Buck looks wrecked already. “He asked if there was a right answer,” Buck whispers.
Eddie’s expression shifts instantly. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Buck swallows hard. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Eddie presses a kiss into his hair. “You love him,” he says simply. “That’s how.”
Buck gestures helplessly at the table. “I made diagrams.”
“I can see that.” Eddie says letting out a soft chuckle. He isn’t surprised by any of this.
“There are categories.”
“Oh, even worse.”
Buck glares at him. Eddie grins despite himself and starts flipping through the flashcards. One states: VALIDATE FEELINGS. Another states: DO NOT TRAUMA DUMP ON THE KINDERGARTENER.
Eddie snorts so hard he almost chokes. Buck looks offended. “This is serious.”
“I know,” Eddie says, still laughing. “You’re doing fine.”
Buck doesn’t look convinced.
-
The next afternoon Buck sits Theo down at the kitchen table with apple slices and dinosaur crackers because every parenting article apparently says children respond better to difficult conversations when snacks are involved. Buck has notes in his pocket. He’s rehearsed this in the mirror twice.
Theo swings his legs under the chair. Buck takes a breath. “So, buddy, I wanted to talk about families and adoption and how families can be made in lots of different ways and-”
Theo interrupts immediately. “If you adopt me, will Mommy and Daddy disappear?”
Buck forgets every single word he prepared.The air leaves his lungs in one painful rush. Theo looks scared. Not resistant. Scared. Buck reaches for him automatically. “Oh, buddy. No.” His voice cracks. “No, never.”
Theo stares at him with wide brown eyes. “They’re your mom and dad,” Buck says carefully. “Nothing changes that.”
“Then what does adoption do?” Theo asks.
Buck thinks for a second. “It means I get to stay,” he says finally. “Forever. Officially.”
Theo absorbs that quietly. “But they’re still mine too?”
Buck’s chest aches. “Always.”
Theo’s voice gets very small. “Then why does it feel mean?”
Buck nearly breaks apart right there at the kitchen table. Because how do you explain grief to someone who still needs help tying his shoes? How do you explain that loving someone new can feel terrifying when you’re afraid it means leaving someone else behind?
Buck reaches over and pulls Theo into his lap. “It’s not mean to love people,” he says softly.
Theo presses his face into Buck’s shoulder. “But what if they think I forgot them?”
Buck closes his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.”
-
Buck changes strategies after that. Less “important conversation.” More stories. That night during bath time he tells Theo about Connor trying to make bacon and eggs one Sunday morning when Kameron was pregnant and accidentally setting off the smoke alarm.
Theo giggles so hard he splashes water everywhere. “He burned them?”
“Completely.”
“What did Mommy do?”
Buck smiles. “She ate it all anyway because she said she was being supportive.”
Theo dissolves into laughter. The next night Buck tells him about how Kameron used to sing loudly in the car even when she forgot half the words.
“How loud?”
“Very loud.”
“Like you?”
Buck gasps dramatically. “Rude.”
Theo cackles. And slowly, little by little, the tension eases. Because Connor and Kameron stop becoming ghosts in the room. They become stories. People. Still loved. Still here.
-
Then the title experiments begin. Buck survives approximately none of them.
“Hey, Buck.”
Normal. Safe. Manageable.
Then came… “Bucky?”
Buck has to excuse himself to the garage for a full minute afterward because his eyes start burning unexpectedly.
“Buckaroo.”
Eddie laughs so hard he pulls a muscle.
“My Buck.”
That one almost kills him instantly.
And then one afternoon Theo comes tearing into the station during a family visit yelling,
“Dad-”
Buck turns so fast he nearly falls over a toolbox.Theo freezes too.The entire world stops.Theo’s eyes widen. Buck’s heart detonates in his chest. Then Theo points behind him. “Dad, Eddie said I can spray the hose!”
Buck actually has to grip the truck for support. Hen absolutely loses it laughing. Buck hates all of them. Theo, meanwhile, looks deeply thoughtful afterward. “I’m still deciding,” he informs Buck solemnly that night.
Buck nods like this isn’t ruining his emotional stability. “Take your time, buddy.”
-
Eddie makes everything worse three days later.
Theo is sitting between them on the couch coloring when he suddenly asks, “If Buck is Dad, what are you?”
Eddie doesn’t even hesitate. “Whatever you want, you get to pick.”
Theo blinks. “Oh. Chris calls you Dad.” Theo says with genuine seriousness.
“Yes he does, what do you want to call me?” Eddie says as he keeps coloring casually.
Buck stares at Eddie in betrayal while Eddie very clearly tries not to smile. “You couldn’t warn me first?” Buck hisses later in the kitchen.
Eddie shrugs. “It’s true.”
“You almost killed me.”
“A little dramatic.”
“I saw God for a second.” Buck cries out.
-
The real conversation happens at bedtime. Theo curled against Buck’s chest under the dinosaur blankets while Buck read The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the fifteenth consecutive night.
Theo interrupts halfway through. “If I call you Dad…” Buck stills. Theo traces little circles against Buck’s T-shirt. “…will you still talk about them?”
And there it is.Theo’s fear resurfacing. Buck suddenly understands all of it. Theo thinks loving Buck means losing Connor and Kameron. Like there’s only room for one family at a time.
Buck closes the book quietly. “Oh, buddy.” He brushes Theo’s curls back gently. “Nothing could make me stop talking about them.”
Theo watches him carefully.
“Their pictures stay up,” Buck promises. “Their stories stay important. We keep remembering them forever, okay?”
Theo’s eyes get watery.
“You never have to choose who you love.”
Theo presses closer against him. Buck kisses the top of his head and feels something inside himself settle too. Because maybe this isn’t about replacing anyone. Maybe it never was. Family is just making the circle bigger.
-
A few nights later Theo is half asleep between Buck and Eddie after a movie night gone way past bedtime. His words come out drowsy and soft. “Can I have more than one dad?”
Buck looks over immediately. Theo’s eyes are already drifting shut. Buck feels tears hit him before he can stop them. Eddie reaches over silently and squeezes his hand. Buck brushes his fingers through Theo’s curls. “Yeah, buddy,” he whispers. His throat tightens painfully. “You absolutely can.”
It happens gradually after that. So gradually Buck almost misses it. Theo still uses Buck most of the time. Still throws out the occasional Buckaroo or Mr Poop when he’s feeling particularly pleased with himself. Still introduces him to people very matter-of-factly.
“This is my Buck.”
Like Buck is a prized possession he found somewhere and decided to keep.
But the hesitation disappears. That’s the difference. The fear goes away first.
-
Buck doesn’t mean to bring it up. They’re at Hen and Karen’s for dinner. The kids are scattered throughout the house. Christopher and Denny arguing over a video game, Theo following Mara around like she’s the coolest person alive, and Eddie helping Karen rescue garlic bread from the oven after Buck got distracted halfway through setting the table.
“Can I ask you guys something?”
Hen glances up from pouring drinks. Karen immediately narrows her eyes. “That tone usually means you’re spiraling.”
Buck points accusingly. “See? This is why I don’t ask for help.”
Karen laughs.“What’s going on?”
Buck hesitates, then says quietly, “It’s Theo.” That gets both their attention immediately.
Hen sets down her glass. “What about him?”
Buck looks toward the living room where Theo’s laughter drifts down the hallway. “He’s calling me Dad now.”
Karen’s entire face softens. “Oh.”
Buck stares down at the table. “And it’s good. A-And I love it. And I’m terrified.”
“There it is,” Hen says.
Buck groans. “I’m serious.”
“We know.” Karen reaches over and squeezes his wrist. “What are you scared of?”
Buck takes a breath. “The same thing I’ve always been scared of.” He glances toward Theo’s voice again. “That I’m replacing Connor and Kameron.”
Hen exchanges a look with Karen. Finally Karen speaks. “You know Mara thought that too.”
Buck blinks, eyes flicking between them. “What?”
Karen nods. “For a while.”
Eddie chooses that moment to walk back carrying bread. “Thought what?”
“That loving us meant betraying her biological parents.”
Eddie immediately sits down because apparently this conversation just got important. Buck frowns. “Mara thought that?”
Hen lets out a soft laugh. “Buckaroo, Mara practically had an existential crisis over it.”
Buck looks genuinely surprised but Karen smiles knowingly. “She was older than Theo when she came to us. She remembered more.” Karen leans back in her chair. “The first time she almost called me Mom she cried afterward.”
Buck’s eyes widen. “What?”
Karen nods. “Locked herself in her room.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Hen reaches for Karen’s hand automatically. “We finally got her to tell us what was wrong.”
Karen’s smile turns sad around the edges. “She thought she’d done something bad.”
Buck feels something in his chest tighten, because that sounds painfully familiar. “What did you tell her?”
Karen’s expression softens. “The truth.” Buck waits. Karen glances toward the hallway where Mara’s voice can be heard explaining something very important to Theo. “We told her about how her parents existed before us.” Buck nods. “And they would exist after us too.”
Hen picks up the thread. “We told her that loving us wouldn’t erase anybody.”
Karen smiles. “And that love doesn’t work like that.”
Buck looks down, thinking. “That’s what I told Theo.”
“Good.” Hen says, smiling softly.
“But what if he still feels guilty?”
Hen laughs softly. “He probably will sometimes.” Buck looks alarmed but Hen continues. “Not because you’re doing anything wrong, but because grief is weird especially for kids.” She pauses. “Mara loves us AND she also loves her biological family. Those things weren’t competing.”
Buck absorbs their information and across the table Eddie is watching quietly.
Karen smiles. “You know what finally changed things?” Buck shakes his head. “Mara realised we weren’t asking her to choose.”
The conversation drifts after that as dinner gets served. Theo proudly announces that Mara taught him how to braid friendship bracelets. Christopher argues that what they made absolutely does not count as braiding. Denny sides with Theo purely for chaos. Normal family noise fills the room.
But later, after the dishes are done and the kids are outside, Buck finds himself sitting on the back patio with Hen and Karen. Eddie had volunteered for cleanup duty.
The evening air is cool, the sounds of the kids carry across the yard. Mara is teaching Theo how to draw flowers with sidewalk chalk. Buck watches them for a long moment. “When did she start calling you Mom and Mama?”
Karen smiles immediately. “Oh, that’s a good story.”
Hen laughs. “It’s really not.”
Buck looks between them, hoping someone will tell the story. “Well?”
Karen points at Hen. “You tell it.”
Hen groans dramatically whilst Karen looks delighted. Which means Buck instantly knows this is going to be embarrassing. “It happened because Mara got annoyed.”
Buck blinks, a little confused. “What?”
“Mara was eight.” Karen is already laughing. “And she got tired of explaining who we were.”
Buck frowns. “What do you mean?”
Hen shakes her head. “Everywhere we went people would ask.” She puts on a fake customer-service voice. “‘And who is this?’ ‘Your aunt?’ ‘Your foster mom?’ ‘Your guardian?’”
Buck winces, knowing Theo had been asked similar questions already “Oh.”
“Exactly.” Karen is openly grinning now. “So one day we’re at the grocery store, and a cashier asks.” Hen covers her face. “Mara looks at us. Looks back at the cashier. And says,‘They’re my moms. Obviously.’”
Buck starts laughing immediately. Hen points. “Not mom. Not mama. Plural. Moms.”
Karen is wiping tears from her eyes. “The cashier looked more surprised than we did.”
Buck laughs harder. “What happened after?”
Hen’s smile softens. “Mara got in the car and asked if it was okay.”
Buck immediately understands. “Because she was checking.”
Hen nods. “Yep.”
Karen’s voice is gentle. “She wasn’t asking permission to love us. She was asking if loving us meant she was allowed to stop being afraid.”
Buck swallows. Across the yard Theo is now sitting in Mara’s lap while she helps him draw something enormous and probably impossible to identify. He looks happy. Safe. Loved.
Karen follows his gaze. “You know what I think?”
Buck glances over.
“I think Theo already knows who you are.”
Buck’s throat tightens and Karen smiles again. “The title isn’t the important part. The security is.”
Hen nods. “The reason Mara felt comfortable calling us Mom and Mama wasn’t because we convinced her. It was because she finally believed we weren’t going anywhere.”
Buck sits very still after that because suddenly he remembers Theo’s question. Before he can think too hard, Theo bursts onto the patio “Dad!” Buck turns automatically as Theo beams. “Look what Mara made!”
-
One Saturday morning Buck wakes up to someone climbing directly onto his face. Not an unusual occurrence in the house. He cracks one eye open to find Theo kneeling on his chest holding a stuffed triceratops.
“Dad.”
Buck freezes instantly. Theo doesn’t seem to notice and continues to sit on top of Buck. “There’s cereal but Christopher used all the marshmallows.”
Buck’s brain completely powers down.
Dad.
Theo pokes his cheek. “Dad.”
Buck makes a sound Eddie later describes as “a Victorian man dying of consumption.”
Theo frowns. “Are you sick?”
Buck clutches him dramatically. “Maybe emotionally.”
Theo considers that. “Oh.” then straight after “Can we still have waffles?”
Buck starts laughing so suddenly he nearly cries. “Yeah, buddy,” he says, voice wrecked. “Yeah. We can have waffles.”
-
After that, it slips into everyday life. Buck never forced it, letting Theo take the lead.
“Dad, Christopher stole my blue marker.”
“Dad, can I have apple juice?”
“Dad, watch this!”
Every single time Buck reacts internally like he’s being hit by a freight train. Externally, he tries to act normal. He fails consistently. Eddie catches him smiling into space constantly now. “You’re so gone,” Eddie says one evening while Buck stands at the stove stirring pasta with the dopiest expression known to mankind.
Buck doesn’t even deny it. “He called me Dad six times today.”
“Yes, I was there.”
“And one of them was because he had a splinter and wanted me specifically.”
Eddie snorts. “Oh, you’re never recovering from this.”
“Nope.” Buck grins helplessly. “I really thought I had more time.”
Eddie walks over, sliding his arms around Buck’s waist from behind. “You know,” he says softly, “I don’t think Theo was ever deciding if you were his dad.”
Buck glances back.
“I think he was deciding if it was safe.” Buck goes very still. And because Eddie knows him too well, he presses a kiss against Buck’s shoulder and murmurs, “You made it safe.”
Buck has to blink hard for a second after that.
He was proud. Of himself. Of Eddie.
And most of all, of Theo.