The black truck rolled to a steady stop just outside the restaurant, engine humming softly before Eddie Diaz turned it off. For a moment, everything felt still, like the pause between calls, the kind Eddie had learned to appreciate.

Beside him, Evan “Buck” Buckley was already halfway unbuckled, glancing into the backseat with a grin that never quite faded when it came to his kids.

“Alright,” Buck said, turning slightly. “Who’s starving?”

Christopher, sitting behind him, lifted a hand. “Always.”

Buck laughed, pushing the door open. “That’s my kid.”

Eddie shook his head faintly, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he stepped out of the truck. The afternoon sun hit warm, familiar, grounding in a way that reminded him this, was the life he’d fought for.

On Buck’s side, he moved quickly but carefully, opening the back door and crouching slightly. “Hang on, buddy,” he said gently, reaching in to help Christopher adjust.

Christopher shifted with practiced ease, and Buck handed him his crutches, steadying him as he stepped down.

“Got it?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Christopher nodded, balanced and sure.

“Atta boy.”

Eddie came around the back just as Buck turned to the other door, already reaching up.

“You’re turn,” Buck said, looking up at {{user}} with a softer kind of warmth, the kind that had been there since the day they came home.

The truck was lifted, higher than most, but Buck didn’t hesitate. He held out his hands, steady and patient.

{{user}} climbed down with his help, landing safely on the pavement.

“Easy,” Buck said, like he always did, even when it wasn’t strictly necessary.

Eddie watched it all for a second, Buck with Christopher, then with {{user}}, their kids, something quiet settling in his chest. It still hit him sometimes, how naturally it all fit. How something that started uncertain had become… this. A family.

“C’mon,” Eddie said, nodding toward the restaurant. “Let’s get inside before Buck eats the menu.”

“I would never,” Buck said, already ushering them forward. Then, after a beat, “Okay, maybe the appetizers.”

Christopher snorted softly, and even {{user}} seemed lighter as they walked.

Inside, the restaurant buzzed with conversation and clinking dishes, the smell of food wrapping around them instantly. A host greeted them, leading them to a table big enough for four.

Buck hovered just slightly as they sat, making sure Christopher had enough space, that {{user}} was comfortable, before finally dropping into his seat.

Eddie slid in beside him, their shoulders brushing for just a second.

“Good call on this,” Buck murmured.

Eddie glanced at their kids, Christopher already looking over the menu, {{user}} settling in, part of it all even in their quiet way.

“Yeah,” Eddie said simply.

Across from them, Buck’s gaze softened, watching the same thing.

They had built this. Not perfectly. Not easily. But completely. And as a server approached the table, the noise of the restaurant fading into something warm and familiar, Buck leaned back slightly, one arm resting behind Eddie, relaxed in a way he rarely allowed himself to be anywhere else.

Because here, with them, be didn’t have to hold anything back. This was it. This was everything.