Brenda

Paul and Jared were hyping each other up about what games they wanted to play as they looked around. Being unable to decide to start on which one, they asked you. They didn’t even need to ask just by seeing you eye the high striker. 

An older gentleman, most likely the owner, enthusiastically called out to the crowd to participate. He’s gained quite a lot of attention as guys line up for their turn. You can see their confidence dropping when they barely raised the weight any closer to the bell. Defeated, most would walk away, others would whine about how the game was rigged. 

Either way, the owner of the game was making great money out of their failed attempts. Right as he put the previous players money away, he spotted the three of you in the crowd. 

“Ahhh I see a couple of young fellows, why not give it a go?” He smirked while he looked down on you. 

Oh that definitely irked something within you. Before Paul or Jared had a chance to step up to the challenge, you beat them to it. You slapped your money onto the table as the owner quietly chuckled to himself. He was expecting your downfall like so many others who tried to win the game. 

“Go on, give it a try, little lady.” He got out of the way after handing you the hammer. 

Your focus was just unreal. Your focus laid solely on the hammer as all the noise around you went to silence. Now in the zone, you muster all the energy and anger you have pent up for the whole year. The crowd watched in anticipation. 

So many jaws dropped when the weight lifted all the way up to the bell, everyone heard it loud and clear. The force you put onto the target made such a loud cracking sound that some folks had to cover their ears. This was a massive feat since this wasn’t any ordinary high striker either. The owner purposely put up a thirty feet striker which he for sure thought no one could win. 

“I believe I get to pick my prize?” You snarkily said to the owner, loving how dumbfounded he was. 

He just nodded in bewilderment as he allowed you to choose from the big stuffed animals on the shelf. Of course you had to go with a wolf. Paul and Jared couldn’t stop grinning ear to ear. They’ve never been prouder. 

“Damn! Since when the hell did you get this strong?” Paul joked as he nudged you. 

“I don’t know, I guess I just had a lot of pent up rage?” You shrugged as you struggled carrying your prize. 

 “Well remind me to never get on your bad side, cause I wouldn’t want to be that weight.” Jared joked before helping you carry the large stuffed animal. 

JACOB BLACK, EMBRY CALL AND QUIL ATEARA 

The four of you have done a whole trip around the carnival from all the rides, games, and booths you went to. Now you were just winding down. You and Embry were sitting on the bench as Jake and Quild were wondering what you should all do next. You scanned around, hoping to make some suggestions until you stumble across a big punching machine. No one else seems to have much interest in it other than two of the guys that approached it. 

They made dumb remarks about how strong they each were. The two dummies even went as far as to wink at you. To which you cringe in disgust. 

“Hey Beautiful, why don’t you hang with us? Wouldn’t it be nice to hang out with a couple of strong guys?” They spouted annoyingly. 

Jake and Quil were ready to get out there to beat the living hell out of them. But feeling a tug on their shirts, they turn to look back to see you shaking your head. Bothered but understanding, they stopped themselves. 

The four of you just watch as they insert their money into the machine where they each take a turn to give their hardest punch. You desperately held on to your life after seeing their scores. Your stomach was cramping as you tried to muffle your laughing. The lowest scores you’ve seen yet. 

They must’ve heard you laughing, as they darted their gaze right at you. “What do you think you can do better than us?” 

Oh you love a nice challenge. You rose up for the occasion. Embry, Jake, and Quil can see it in your eyes. There’s no stopping you from here on out. But first you let them take their turns first. Unsurprisingly their scores were much higher than those two dummies that tried and failed. 

Then when the machine restarted itself with your money inside, you can hear the pathetic degrading comments the two idiots were making. “Oh come on, look at her? You really think she can throw a punch?” His friend just chuckles. 

“Hell nah, she’s probably so weak that the machine won’t be able to read her punch.” They continued their pestering commentary. 

Geez did you prove them wrong. You loosened your shoulder joint by swinging it around for a few seconds then took a step back. All the guys watched as you moved forward with a booming punch. The force you put on the machine was so bad that the machine was rocking back and forth. How you didn’t break it was anyone’s guess? 

Just when you thought your score was fine, the numbers kept on rising. You shocked yourself. You just wanted better than those two but you’ve actually gained the highest score that anyone can get. Jake and Quil slung their arms around you in  celebration as Embry complimented your punch. 

“I guess this girl can throw a punch and I’d happily knock a sucker out.” You snapped back as the two guys backed away. 

They groan in defeat as their egos will be bruised for years to come. 

“Now where did all this strength come from?” Embry asked. 

“I guess pettiness helps a lot?” You answered back jokingly. 

“You’ve gotta try boxing sometime? Who knows, with those moves, you might become the next big champ?!” Quil said with sheer excitement. 

“Now I wouldn’t go that far.” Jake poked fun at the idea. 

“I can still kick your ass Jake.” You said with crossed arms. 

“I would love to see you try.” And with that, he starts running as you chase after him. Embry and Quil were not far behind as they cackled at how worried Jake looked the closer you got.

She didn’t turn when the front door closed. She didn’t look up when his duffel bag hit the floor. She just kept her back to him, shoulders locked, movements stiff.

Buck was tired. He had just finished a twenty-four hour shift with two extra calls at the last minute with no sleep at all. All he wanted: was to come home, take a shower, and wrap his arms around her.

He stepped behind her and leaned down, wanting to press a gentle kiss against her cheek. Something small to feel normal again. Something grounding. But she moved her head away before he even touched her.

Buck blinked confused and pressed his lips onto the top of her head instead, leaving a pause before breaking the silence. “Hey. You okay?” he asked as he hoovered behind her. 

She didn’t answer. She just reached for a knife and began chopping again, slower this time, as if every slice was something she was holding back.

Buck’s stomach tightened, he knew that posture. Something was wrong, but was she going to tell him what was wrong? 

He leaned one arm against the counter, fully facing her, watching her. Waiting for her to tell him what had happened. “(Y/n)… talk to me.” he sighed. 

Silence. She didn’t even look up. She was basically acting like he was a ghost.

Buck tried to laugh a little, hoping it was some kind of weird joke. “Okay, come on. What did I do?” he asked, while he tried to dig into his memories, recalling what he missed. 

She wiped her hands on a towel and moved to the other side of the kitchen, putting space between them again. His heart sank a little more.

Why isn’t she speaking? What did he miss? Did something happen at work? 

The more she ignored him, the heavier the confusion became. And beneath the confusion, something sharp and uncomfortable was building. 

Panic. 

Buck never did well with quiet. Quiet meant something he didn’t understand. Quiet meant things slipping away. He needed words. He needed people to be direct. 

He took a step closer. “Seriously, (Y/n). This isn’t funny anymore.” he said, more serious now. 

Still nothing. She stirred the pot, breathing slowly too slowly. Biting the inside of her cheek to suppress the emotions that were building within her.

He couldn’t see that from his side of the counter. All he saw was her refusing to speak. And after so many days of running on fear and adrenaline, his patience snapped like a thread pulled too tight. “Could you please just tell me what’s wrong?” His voice rose without him meaning it to.

She closed her eyes for half a second. She didn’t want him to yell. She didn’t want to fight. She was supposed to tease him a little, make him notice, make him remember on his own. But somewhere during the long quiet hours of waiting… it stopped being a joke.

She moved past him again, wanting to walk away before the tears in her eyes showed. But Buck reached out automatically, catching her arm. It was not gentle enough. Not roughly on purpose, but frustrated, too quick, tired.

She froze.

His fingers loosened instantly, fear washing over him the second he realized how tight his hand was wrapped around her arm and how tight the moment had become. “I… sorry. I just- just stop walking away from me. Please.” he begged her. 

“Let go.” Her voice was low.

He immediately let go of her arm. His stomach flipped with guilt. “What did I forget?” he tried again, softer this time. “Please. Just talk to me.”

She looked at him finally, and he hated what he saw there. Her face was projected with hurt, disappointment and even something close to heartbreak. “Our anniversary, Buck.” She whispered, her voice close to breaking.

It felt like someone hit a switch inside him. All the exhaustion, all the noise from work, all the excuses… none of them felt strong enough anymore for him to use.

“Oh come on, really?” he heard himself say, and already regretted the tone. “We’ve barely slept this week, we’ve been running non-stop, lives depend on us…” 

She flinched as the words fell out of his mouth, and he saw her flinching, but he just didn’t stop.

“Well I’m sorry that saving lives is more important than remembering a stupid anniversary between me and some bitch” He heard the word coming out of his mouth before he could take it back.

At that very moment, everything froze. Air. Movement. The space between them.

Buck’s eyes widened, horror flooding his face as he realized what he had just called her. “No- no, no, I didn’t- (Y/n), wait, I didn’t mean that. That’s not-” he choked on his words, trying to take back what he said. 

She didn’t yell. She didn’t cry. She just looked at him.

Her eyes were full of anger, tears barely held back, her jaw tight like if she loosened it even a little, everything would fall apart. Buck’s chest tightened at the sight. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out fast enough.

She turned away and walked toward the dining room table.

“(Y/n) wait,” he said quickly, following her. “I didn’t mean it. I was tired. I wasn’t thinking. I would never call you that.”

She grabbed her jacket from the chair, her hands shaking as she pushed her arms through the sleeves. “Please,” Buck said, panic creeping into his voice. “You know me. You know that’s not how I feel.”

She faced him again, and this time the tears were right there, shining in her eyes. “You don’t get to talk to me like that and still expect me to stay.” she said, and moved past him toward the front door.

Buck rushed ahead, stopping in front of it before she could reach the handle. His heart was racing, thoughts tangled and desperate. “Please listen to me,” he said. “Just listen. I’m sorry. I messed up. I’ll fix it..” his mind was running fast, his mouth couldn’t even keep up with the things he wanted to say. 

“I’ve listened enough,” she said, her voice shaking at last. “Move.” For a moment, he didn’t. Then her eyes hardened, and that was what finally broke him. He stepped aside.

She pulled the door open and left without looking back. The sound of the door closing echoed through the apartment, loud and final.

-

The apartment felt impossibly quiet.

Buck’s heart was still pounding in his chest. The door had closed behind her, but the sound seemed to echo in his head. He couldn’t breathe right. He couldn’t think. He just staggered toward the couch and sank onto the edge, head in his hands.

What did I just say?

The words repeated over and over in his mind, louder each time. Some…bitch. He could hear the way she’d looked at him, the hurt in her eyes that he had ignored until it was too late. He should have seen it. He should have remembered. 

He grabbed his phone before he even realized it was on the coffee table and dialed her number. It didn’t even ring three times, and it went to voicemail. His fingers trembled as he hit the call button again. “(Y/n)… please, pick up.” He whispered as his voice cracked while his leg bounced restless onto the floor. “I didn’t mean it. I was tired. I was stupid. I love you.” He continued, waiting anxiously for her to pick up the phone. 

But then again… voicemail.

He tried texting, but every message felt useless:

BUCK:

 I’m sorry. I love you. Please. Don’t leave. I was wrong.

(Y/n), please answer me.

I can fix this. Just…please.

Nothing.

He got up and started pacing. The apartment felt too small, too quiet, too empty. And most important of it all, it just reminded him of what happened a few minutes back.

He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t stop thinking. Every step he took, every corner he rounded, the argument played again in his mind, her words, her eyes, the emotion in her voice. |You don’t get to talk to me like that and still expect me to stay.” 

He stumbled to the kitchen, where his eyes fell onto her sweatshirt she had hanging over the back of one of the dining room chairs. He grabbed it and held it to his face, inhaling like maybe he could breathe her back in. But it didn’t help. He felt hollow, and more alone than he had in years.

His chest felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but he refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Not until he could figure out what to do. But he couldn’t do anything. Nothing he could do would fix it right now. She was gone. She had left. All he could do was wait, and hope. And hate himself for how he handled the situation.

______

Buck walked into the firehouse like a man moving through fog. Every step felt heavy, every breath shallow. His eyes darted across the familiar faces, but everything seemed different. Before he could even make it towards the locker room to change into his uniform, a voice made him stop in his steps.

“Buckley.” 

The voice hit him like a punch to the gut. He froze.

Nobody called him Buckley anymore, not Bobby, not Hen. Not even Chimney. That single word was so formal that it immediately set off alarms in his chest. Something was wrong. Something had happened. Red flag number one.

He swallowed, trying to push down the panic clawing up his throat, and forced a small smile as he turned around and faced the person who’d just called him. “Morning, cap.” he said.

Bobby’s eyes were sharp, and he didn’t return the smile. Instead, he just motioned his head toward his office. Buck’s stomach twisted. Okay…okay. Here it comes.

He followed Bobby, past the familiar sounds of the station, and into the captain’s office. The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than a slam.

Athena sat in one of the chairs near the desk, posture straight, expression unreadable. Maddie sat beside her, hands folded tightly in her lap. She looked like she hadn’t slept much.

Buck stopped beside his sister. His stomach dropped. This wasn’t casual. This was serious. “Uh,” he said, forcing a small, unsure smile. “What’s going on?” he asked as he realized Athena and Maddie were involved in this. 

Bobby didn’t sit. He leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed loosely, eyes steady. “Take a seat, Buck.” his voice sounded.

Buck obeyed, lowering himself into the chair across from them. It felt wrong, sitting while everyone else looked at him like that. Like he was twelve years old again, waiting to hear what he’d done.

Athena was the first to speak. “Do you know why you’re here?” she asked. Buck frowned slightly. “No, ma’am.”

Maddie shifted beside Athena, glancing at Bobby before looking back at her brother. “(Y/n) came to my house last night,” Maddie said gently.

The room seemed to tilt.

Buck’s heart started to race. “She… she did?” 

“She was upset,” Maddie continued. “Really upset.”

Buck opened his mouth, then closed it again. His hands curled together in his lap. Bobby finally spoke. “Buck, we’re not here to attack you. We just want to understand what happened.”

Buck swallowed. His throat felt dry. “We had a fight.” he admitted, pushing away the emotions that were trying to break through while he spoke. 

Athena raised an eyebrow. “A fight big enough for her to leave.”

Buck nodded slowly. “I forgot our anniversary. I’ve been picking up extra shifts. She started ignoring me, and I thought she was just mad, but I didn’t- ” He stopped abruptly, breathing out slowly. “I lost my temper.”

“And?” Bobby asked quietly. Buck’s jaw tightened. He stared at the floor. It took him a few seconds to gather himself together. “I said something I shouldn’t have.” he said.

Maddie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What did you say, Buck?”

He hesitated. Then, quietly, “I called her a bitch.”

The word sat in the room, heavy and ugly.

Athena’s expression hardened. Not angry, she was disappointed. “That’s not something you say to someone you love,” she said calmly.

“I know,” Buck said quickly. “I didn’t mean it. The second I said it, I knew I messed up. I tried to stop her from leaving.”

Athena’s eyes sharpened. “How did you try to stop her?”

Buck shifted uncomfortably. “I stood in front of the door. I asked her to listen.”

Maddie flinched slightly.

“And did she want to listen?” Athena asked.

Buck shook his head. “No.”

Bobby straightened. “Then that’s where the problem is.”

Buck looked up, confused and hurting. “I just wanted to fix it.”

“I know,” Bobby said. “But fixing something doesn’t start with trapping someone in a conversation they’re not ready to have.”

Silence filled the office.

Maddie leaned forward, her voice soft but firm. “At first, she was just hurt, Buck. She felt ignored. The ignoring back was supposed to get your attention, making you aware that you missed something. But when you forgot your anniversary…” Maddie shook her head. “That broke her. And what you said after that made it worse.”

Buck felt the weight of it settle in his chest.

“I love her,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

Athena nodded once. “Then you need to show it by respecting her boundaries. Right now, she needs space.”

Buck sat back in the chair, the fight slowly draining out of him. He rubbed his hands over his face, unsure what to do. “What do I do now?” He asked for advice. Bobby met his eyes. “You listen. And when she’s ready, you apologize without excuses.”

Buck nodded slowly, his heart slamming against his chest. He felt small, scared, and more helpless than he had in years but one thing was clear: he would move heaven and earth to make this right.

______

The engine roared beneath Buck as the truck sped through the streets of Los Angeles, sirens screaming loud enough to rattle his bones. Red and blue lights flashed across the windshield. Normally, that sound grounded him, it let him focus. 

Today, it didn’t.

Buck’s phone sat heavy in his hand, the screen lighting up his tired face as he tried her number again. The call rang once. Twice. Then went straight to voicemail.

His chest tightened.

He dropped the phone onto his thigh, then picked it up again almost immediately. Maybe the signal was bad. Maybe she was busy. Maybe…

But it just send him back to voicemail.

His jaw clenched, and he stared out at the road without really seeing it. His mind kept drifting back to the night before. The look in her eyes. The way her voice had shaken when she told him to move. The sound of the door closing.

She should’ve answered. She always answers.

“Buck.” Eddie’s voice pulled him back to reality. Eddie across from him, watching him closely. “Who are you calling?” Eddie asked, not accusing, just curious.

Buck hesitated, then answered honestly without looking at him. “(Y/n).”

Eddie nodded once. “She okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned. Buck swallowed and shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I don’t know.” he said, almost making it sound like a whisper. 

The words felt heavier when he said them out loud.

From the other side, Chimney leaned forward slightly, trying to lighten the mood the way he always did. “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. Trouble in paradise?” he joked. 

Buck’s grip tightened on the phone he was holding as his stomach twisted. “Not now, Chim,” he said, sharper than he meant to. Chimney leaned back, hands raised in surrender, immediately sensing that this wasn’t his best comment. “Alright. Sorry.”

Hen pushed her shoulder against his to get his attention, her voice calm and steady, the way it always was when things felt like they might spin out of control. “Hey. Whatever’s going on, she’ll come around. But we need to focus on the call, okay?” she said.

Buck nodded, but the words didn’t sink in. Because right now, it felt like something he couldn’t fix like that, she wouldn’t just come around because he gave her time.

-

The building they were now standing in was old. Buck felt it the moment his boots crossed the threshold. The wood creaked under his weight, the sound sharp and uneasy. The air inside was thick with smoke and dust, heavy in his lungs. The walls were old, stained from years of wear, the kind of place that had survived too long without anyone really caring if it stayed standing.

He adjusted his grip on the halligan he was carrying, forcing his focus forward. Focus, he reminded himself again.

The radio crackled softly at his shoulder. Bobby’s voice came through, calm and controlled. “Primary search. Stay together.”

“Copy,” Buck answered, his voice steady even if his mind wasn’t. The beam of his flashlight cut through the haze, landing on warped floorboards and peeling walls. Each step made the wood groan beneath his weight. The sound raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

He slowed down in his steps, “Hey,” Eddie said quietly beside him. “You hear that?” he asked, barely audible, as if they talked too loud the whole building could come down. Buck nodded. “Yeah.”

The floor creaked again as they made their way over the floor they were assigned to check. Only this time, it creaked longer, deeper. They exchanged a look. Not panic. Just awareness.

Buck shifted his weight carefully, testing the ground before taking another step. He could feel it, the floor wasn’t solid. It dipped slightly under his boot, like it was tired of holding people up.

His chest tightened, but he pushed the feeling down. Old buildings creak, he told himself. You’ve been in worse. But his mind wouldn’t stay quiet. It drifted… to her silence, to unanswered calls, to the way she’d said his name like she didn’t recognize him anymore. The memory distracted him just enough.

A sharp crack split the air. “BUCK!” Eddie’s voice roared through the room. The floor dropped out from under him.

For half a second, his body didn’t understand what was happening. One moment he was standing, the next he was falling. The world tilted violently, his stomach dropping as the ground disappeared from underneath him.

He didn’t have time to brace. He hit the floor beneath them, hard.

Pain exploded through his ribs as his side slammed into something solid. The breath tore from his lungs in a sharp, silent gasp. His helmet struck concrete, the impact sending stars across his vision.

He tried to move.

Agony flared through his chest, sharp and burning. His body refused to cooperate, locking up around the pain. Warmth trickled down his forehead, slipping past his eyebrow and into his eye. Blood blurred his vision. He told himself to stay awake, to not pass out.

“Buck!” Eddie’s voice echoed above him, strained and urgent. “Buck, talk to me!”  Buck dragged in a shallow breath. 

Buck forced a shallow breath. It burned. “I’m here,” he rasped. “Floor…gave out.” he stumbled as he pressed his hand onto the pain in his torso. 

“Mayday, mayday, mayday! Firefighter down!” Eddie called into the radio. “Floor collapse, Buck fell down. Conscious, possible rib and head injury!”

The radio crackled with overlapping responses. “Copy. Hold position. We’re coming to you.” Bobby’s voice came through the radio immediately.

Before he knew it, hands were on him, careful, practiced. Someone steadied his head. Someone else checked his ribs. “Possible fractures,” Hen said. “Head wound. He’s breathing, but it’s shallow.”

Buck squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the nausea rolling through him. The weight of the pain pressed down hard, but worse than that was the fear creeping in now.

As they secured him to a backboard, the ceiling above him looked impossibly far away. They lifted him carefully, every movement sending fire through his side. 

The ceiling above Buck blurred in and out of focus as they worked.

Hands moved with careful purpose—checking his helmet, pressing gently along his ribs, tightening straps around his chest and legs. Every touch sent pain flaring through him, sharp and unforgiving, but he forced himself to stay still.

“Easy,” Hen said quietly near his head. Her voice was calm, grounding. “We’ve got you.”

Buck nodded faintly, jaw clenched. Each breath felt shallow, like his lungs refused to expand fully. The weight in his chest pressed down harder with every inhale.

The radio crackled again with Bobby’s voice, steady and in control, cutting through the noise in Buck’s head. “Path is clear. Bring him out slow.”

Eddie stayed close, one hand resting firmly on Buck’s shoulder like an anchor. “You’re doing good, man. Just keep breathing.”

Buck wanted to say something back, something sarcastic, something normal, but all that came out was a strained exhale. They lifted him carefully.

The shift in position made his vision swim. Pain exploded along his ribs, and he couldn’t stop the low sound that tore from his throat. Someone murmured reassurance, another voice telling him to stay with them.

Step by step, they moved him through the broken remains of the building. Smoke curled overhead. Debris crunched beneath their boots. The world felt distant, muffled, like he was wrapped in thick cotton.

As they reached the exit, light spilled in.

Cool air hit his face, and for the first time since the fall, Buck felt like he could breathe just a little easier. Sirens wailed somewhere nearby, sharp and urgent. The crowd outside was larger than he expected. Shapes moved behind police tape. Voices blended together into a low, constant hum.

“Buck!” The sound of her voice cut through everything. His heart stuttered.

He turned his head slightly, wincing as pain flared, and there she was standing behind the tape, eyes wide with fear, face pale as she tried to push forward.

Relief washed over him so hard it almost hurt more than his injuries.

After they placed Buck with the backboard onto the gurney, they guided the stretcher toward the ambulance, Buck’s vision blurred again, exhaustion dragging at him. He caught one last glimpse of her struggling against someone holding her back, her hands clenched, her mouth moving as she shouted something he couldn’t quite hear.

She had been two blocks away when the sirens screamed past her. Her stomach dropped instantly. She followed the sound without thinking, her steps quickening as as she came closer to the sounds of the sirens. Fire trucks lined the street. Smoke rose into the sky. Police tape stretched across the sidewalk, holding people back.

Then she saw him. Buck, on a stretcher.

Blood streaked down from his hairline. His face was pale, eyes half-closed, his body strapped down like he couldn’t move. “No,” she whispered, her breath catching. “No, no, no…” she gasped. She pushed forward, but a police officer stepped into her path.

“Ma’am, you need to stay back.” he told her. “That’s my boyfriend,” she said, her voice shaking but fierce. “You need to let me through.” she continued.

“I’m sorry, you can’t.” he said. Fear turned into anger, hot and sharp in her chest. She tried to move around him, hands clenched, ready to push if she had to. “I need to get to him!” she cried as the officer stepped in front of her again, pushing her back behind the tape.

“Hey! She’s good. Let her through.” Bobby’s voice cut clean through the noise, placing a hand on the officer’s shoulder. Trying to stop whatever was going on. The officer hesitated for a second as he looked at Bobby, but then stepped aside.

She didn’t wait. She ran.

Her legs burned, her breath came too fast, but she didn’t slow down. The world narrowed until there was nothing but Buck on the stretcher and the fear pounding in her chest.

“Buck!” she called again, her voice breaking.

Eddie and Hen paused when she reached them, uncertainty flickering across their faces. Buck’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice, unfocused at first then slowly, unmistakably, finding her.

Relief washed over his features. “You’re here,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe it. She nodded quickly, tears blurring her vision. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She reached for his hand, wrapping her fingers around his carefully, mindful of the straps and the injuries. His skin was warm, his grip weak but real.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.The night before hovered between them. Unspoken, unresolved, but right now, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was breathing. That he was alive.

“I’m coming with him.” (Y/n) said. Her voice didn’t shake this time. It wasn’t a request, it was a fact. The Hen hesitated since whatever was going on between the couple, and glanced at Bobby. Bobby met her eyes and gave a small, firm nod. That was all it took.

She climbed into the ambulance as they guided the stretcher fully inside. The doors slammed shut behind her, sealing them into the small, brightly lit space. The siren came to life almost immediately, vibrating through the metal walls.

He looked worse up close. Blood had dried along his hairline, dark against his skin. His face was pale, eyes half-lidded, lashes fluttering like he couldn’t decide whether to stay awake or not. Every breath was shallow, careful, like it hurt too much to take more.

“Hey,” she whispered, brushing her thumb gently over his knuckles. “I’m here.” she said. His fingers twitched. His eyes opened a fraction, unfocused, searching. When they landed on her, something in his expression softened.

“You didn’t leave,” he murmured. Her throat tightened. “No. I didn’t.”

The ambulance hit a bump, and Buck winced, a quiet sound slipping past his lips. But his attention drifted back to her. “I didn’t mean it,” he said suddenly. The words were slurred, weak, like they were being pulled from somewhere deep and heavy inside him. “I was tired. I didn’t…” He lost the sentence, breath catching painfully in his chest.

She leaned closer, careful not to touch his injuries. “I know,” she said softly, even though her eyes burned. “Just rest.” His brow furrowed, confusion crossing his face. He looked scared now, not of the pain, but of something else.

“Did I-” he swallowed. “Did I hurt you?”

The question was barely audible. She closed her eyes for a second, steadying herself. “Let’s just not talk about it right now.” she said gently. “All that matters is that you just need to stay with me.” she added. His grip tightened weakly around her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, the words slipping out like a reflex. “Didn’t mean to forget. Didn’t mean to say it.” he went on, and his eyes drifted shut.

She stayed still, afraid that if she moved, he might slip away completely. The siren wailed on, loud and relentless, while Buck drifted in and out of consciousness, his apologies spilling out in broken pieces he wouldn’t remember later. But she would.

______

The hospital was too bright. The lights hummed softly overhead as they rushed Buck through the doors, voices calling out injuries and vitals. She stayed close until a nurse gently but firmly stopped her. “We’ve got him,” the nurse said. “We’ll take care of him.”

She nodded, even though every part of her wanted to argue. “I’ll be right here,” she said, her voice barely steady. Buck didn’t respond. His eyes were closed now, face slack with exhaustion, chest rising and falling in shallow, careful breaths. She let her grip loosen around Buck’s and let him slip away from her. Then he was gone.

The waiting room felt empty in the worst way.

She sat down slowly, hands folded in her lap, as she stared at the floor. Her body still buzzed with leftover panic, her heart racing like it hadn’t gotten the message that the worst part had passed. Or maybe it didn’t.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer. Time blurred. Her mind kept replaying the night before. The kitchen, the argument, the look in his eyes after the words left his mouth. The hurt in his own voice after he realized what he did. Her chest tightened painfully at the memory.

She pressed her fingers into her palms, grounding herself. She was here now. He was alive. He has had worse accidents on the job. Her attention caught the soft footsteps that were approaching.

She looked up to see Bobby walking toward her, turnout jacket gone, face drawn with exhaustion. Maddie followed close behind him, worry written all over her face. “Oh,” Maddie breathed when she saw her. “Thank God.”

Maddie crossed the space between them and pulled her into a careful hug. She melted into the hug, holding on like she needed the support to stay upright. “How is he?” Maddie asked softly.

“They took him back,” (Y/n) said. “Probably a few broken ribs and a head injury. He was… in and out when we drove here...” she added as they sat down. 

Bobby sat across from them, forearms resting on his knees. “He’s going to be fine,” he said gently. “And he’s not alone.” She nodded, blinking hard.

There was a small silence when Bobby said those words. 

(Y/n) looked at her hands that were folded into her lap again, fidgeting with one of her rings she was wearing. “He kept apologizing,” she admitted quietly as she let her fingers move the ring on her hand “In the ambulance… He doesn’t even know what he was saying.” she said.

Maddie’s expression softened. “Buck has a habit of saying the truth when he’s half-conscious.” and she sent her a small smile. (Y/n) glanced at her, giving her a weak but shaky smile.

They sat there together, the three of them, the noise of the hospital wrapping around them. More people got wheeled in on gurneys. Doors opened and closed. Life went on.

Eventually, a doctor appeared. (Y/n) stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor. “Are you family?” the doctor asked, not to anyone in particular. (Y/n) didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” she answered. 

She basically wasn’t family. She was his girlfriend. But still, she deserved to know what was up from the doctor.

The doctor nodded. “He’s stable. Two broken ribs, a mild concussion, and a deep cut to the head.  We’re keeping him for a few more hours for observation, but if everything stays steady, he’ll be discharged tonight.” the doctor informed. 

Relief hit her so hard her knees almost gave out. 

“There is one condition,” the doctor added. “Because of the concussion, he’ll need someone with him for the next twenty-four hours. We need someone to monitor for worsening symptoms. Confusion, nausea, headaches, that sort of thing.” 

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she glanced back at Bobby and Maddie. Bobby met her eyes and gave a small nod. Solid. Steady. Like he already knew what she was thinking.

Maddie offered a soft, reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she said quietly.

Her chest tightened then eased. She turned back to the doctor. “I’ll stay with him.” she said. The doctor smiled faintly. “Would you like to see him?” he asked.

Her breath caught. “Yes. Please.” she answered. He gave a small nod. “All right. I’ll take you to him.”

She turned back instinctively toward Bobby and Maddie. Bobby met her gaze and gave a firm, reassuring nod. “Go.” Maddie squeezed her hand gently, again. “We’ll be right here.” she whispered. 

“Thank you,”

The hallway felt too long. She followed the doctor past curtained bays and softly beeping monitors, the smell of antiseptic in the air. Each step made her heart pound harder, fear and relief mixing together until she could barely tell them apart.

They stopped in front of an open curtain.

“Trauma Bay Seven,” the doctor said softly, pointing at the right number. “Take your time.” he said, and left her to it. 

She hesitated for just a moment, then stepped inside. Buck was awake.

He was propped up against the pillows, a white bandage wrapped around his head, chest tight with bruised ribs beneath the hospital gown. His movements were careful, like his body was reminding him with every breath that he’d been hurt.

When he saw her, relief washed over his face so clearly it almost hurt to look at. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You made it.” She stepped inside, the curtain sliding shut behind her. For a second, she didn’t speak. She just looked at him alive, breathing, real  and let the fear settle into something steadier.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

He huffed a small laugh and tried to push himself up, but hissed at the pain in his side. “Like I shouldn’t be allowed near old buildings anymore.” 

That earned the faintest smile from her, but it didn’t last. He noticed. Buck’s expression shifted to something serious. “One of the nurses said you rode with me in the ambulance.”

“I did.” she nodded. 

His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t remember much. Just… pieces. You were there. I feel like I was talking a lot, but it’s fuzzy.” He swallowed. “Did I say something wrong?”

The question was careful. Afraid.

She moved closer, resting her hands on the edge of the bed. “You kept apologizing,” she said softly. “You said you didn’t mean it. That you were tired. That you didn’t mean to forget.” she admitted, sitting down on one of those chairs that the doctors used. The one with the wheels.

His shoulders sagged with relief, then guilt followed close behind. “I did forget,” he admitted. “And I know that hurt you.”

She nodded, eyes shining. “It wasn’t just the date, Buck. It was the weeks before it. The double shifts. The extra calls. You coming home exhausted and already half gone. I felt like I was always waiting for you.”

His throat tightened.

“I didn’t want to complain,” she continued, voice steady but shaking underneath. “I know your job matters. I know people need you. But that night… it felt like I didn’t.”

Buck shook his head immediately. “You matter. God, you matter so much.”

“I know you didn’t forget because you don’t care,” she said. “But when you did… it still hurt. And when you said what you said, it felt like you pushed me out completely.”

His eyes burned. “I hate that I did that to you.” He reached out slowly, carefully, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. When she didn’t, his hand cupped her cheek, warm and gentle.

“I was wrong,” he said quietly. “Not because I was tired. Not because of work. Just… wrong. And I don’t ever want to make you feel like you come second.”

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. “I don’t need to come first all the time,” she whispered. “I just need to know I’m not last.”

His breath hitched. “You’re not,” he promised. “You never were.”

She nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. He met her halfway, careful of his ribs, their breathing syncing in the quiet space between them.

“I love you,” he murmured.

She smiled through the ache that was still lingering in her chest. “I love you too.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The morning started normally: coffee, a quick kiss, Buck rummaging through the bathroom cabinet for his multivitamin. He was half-asleep, scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other grabbing the familiar orange bottle. He shook out a pill, tossed it back with a gulp of water, and didn’t think twice.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a strange heat spreading through his groin. At first, he thought it was just morning wood; annoying but manageable. But the feeling didn’t fade. It built a slow, insistent pressure that made his jeans feel too tight. His cock twitched, thickening against his thigh, and he had to adjust himself with a grimace.

“You okay?” you asked from the table, sipping your coffee.

“Yeah, just… uh-” He shifted, trying to hide the prominent bulge that was now impossible to ignore. The fabric of his jeans strained, outlining the rigid length of his shaft. “I think I grabbed the wrong bottle.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He walked over, his movements stiff, and held up the bottle he’d left on the counter. Your eyes went wide when you saw the label: Sildenafil 100mg.

“Is that… Viagra?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice strained. “I wasn’t paying attention. Must’ve been thinking about the call last night.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Buck, you took a whole Viagra pill? On an empty stomach?”

“Apparently.” He pressed his palm against his crotch, trying to ease the ache. His cock was fully hard now, jutting upward, trapped against the denim. The head was sensitive, brushing against the zipper, and every tiny movement sent sparks through his nerves. “This is… really intense.”

You set down your mug, a smirk playing on your lips. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

He looked at you, his blue eyes dark with need. “I was hoping you might help.”

You stood up slowly, walking around the table until you were inches from him. You reached out, cupping him through his jeans. The heat radiated through the fabric, and he gasped, his hips automatically thrusting into your hand.

“God,” he breathed. “Please.”

“Take off your pants,” you said, your voice low.

He fumbled with the button, the fly, practically ripping the jeans down his thighs. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, dark red, curved upward against his stomach. A bead of precum glistened at the slit. He was harder than you’d ever seen him, the veins prominent, the head swollen and tight.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, and he groaned, his head falling back. The shaft was hot and pulsing in your grip, already slick with moisture.

“How long does this last?” you asked, giving a slow, experimental stroke.

“Hours,” he panted. “It said four to six hours.”

You grinned. “Then we’ve got time.”

You lowered yourself to your knees, the tile cool beneath you. His cock hovered in front of your face, the musky scent clean and male. You ran your tongue along the underside, from base to tip, tasting salt and skin. Buck shuddered, a breathy groan escaping his lips.

Then you took him into your mouth.

The stretch was immediate. He was thicker than usual, the Viagra making him engorged. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, your tongue swirling around the head. He bucked into you, one hand gripping your hair, the other braced against the counter.

“Fuck-that’s-yes,” he gasped, his hips moving in short, frantic thrusts.

You took him deeper, relaxing your throat, letting the head push past the back of your tongue. He filled your mouth completely, the taste of his arousal flooding your senses. You moaned around him, vibrations making him cry out.

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned, his breathing ragged. “Too much-you’re too good.”

But you didn’t stop. You increased the pace, your hand working the base while your lips worked the tip. You felt him pulse against your tongue, his whole body tensing.

Then he came—hot, thick spurts shooting down your throat. You swallowed, not missing a drop, keeping your mouth on him until he softened slightly. But even as the first orgasm rippled through him, his cock stayed hard, the Viagra still in full effect.

He pulled you up, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. “That was amazing,” he said, his voice still strained. “But… I’m still hard. And it’s not going away anytime soon.”

You could see it—his cock, still rampant, still leaking fresh precum. The need in his eyes was raw.

You pressed your body against his, feeling the rigid length dig into your stomach. “Then I guess you’d better fuck me,” you whispered.

He didn’t need a second invitation. He scooped you up, carried you to the bedroom, and laid you on the bed. Your clothes vanished in a blur of eager hands and tearing fabric. He knelt between your legs, his cock bobbing, the head nudging your wet folds.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Just do it.”

He pushed in, and you gasped. The stretch was immense, the Viagra had made him painfully thick, and you felt every ridge, every inch as he sank into you. He filled you completely, the pressure deep and overwhelming.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to yours.

He started moving, slow at first, letting you adjust. But the drug drove him, the need for release more insistent than ever. His pace quickened, his hips slapping against your thighs, each thrust driving him deeper.

“Harder,” you begged.

He obliged, grabbing your hips and pounding into you. The bed creaked beneath you, your moans filling the room. He was relentless; no control, just pure, animalistic need. Your nails raked down his back, and he growled, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you.

The angle shifted, and he hit a spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. You cried out, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Right there, don’t stop-please-”

He didn’t. He drove into you again and again, his breath hot against your ear, his words a stream of filth. “So tight… taking me so good… gonna fill you up…”

Your orgasm built like a wave, cresting, crashing. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his own release triggered by your spasms. He came inside you, hot liquid flooding your core, his hips still grinding as he rode out the aftershocks.

But even then, his cock didn’t soften. It stayed full inside you, twitching, hungry.

He pulled out slowly, a mix of your fluids trickling onto the sheets. His erection still stood proud, angry and swollen.

“Still hard,” he said, almost apologetically.

You laughed breathlessly. “We’re gonna need more water.”

You spent the next three hours trying every position: on your stomach, on your knees, riding him reverse cowgirl, bent over the edge of the bed. You used your mouth again, your hands, and even let him fuck your thighs until the skin was raw. By the time the effects finally began to fade, you were both exhausted, sweaty, and thoroughly satisfied.

His cock was finally soft, nestled against his thigh, sleeping peacefully.

He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “I’m sorry about that.”

You smiled, your body aching deliciously. “Don’t be. Just… maybe stick to the right bottle next time.”

"paul," you giggled his name, rolling onto your other side so you could face him. paul, still half asleep with his face buried in the pillow, seized the opportunity and pulled you even closer to his side. you laughed again as he got one hand firmly wedged around your side, resting on your ribcage, "it's been like 10 hours since we've gotten up, i gotta eat," you mused, running one hand up his arm and neck to thread your fingers through his inky hair.

paul grumbled something incoherent into the pillow, and before you had a second to ask what he was talking about, he was lifting his head to look over at you, "food?" he repeated back to you and you let out another giggle, laughing as you scratched at his scalp.

"preferably lots of it. i'm starving," you joked, squealing when he tightened his grip on your side to roll you over to the other side of him, "paul!" you laughed, moving to get up again but he just squeezed you again, not-so-subtly letting you know he definitely didn't want you going anywhere anytime soon.

"i've got some in the nightstand," his voice was still raspy as he woke himself up, one hand still firmly around you while the other one reached around blindly at your nightstand for a moment before he latched onto whatever food stash he apparently kept in your bedroom without telling you.

"a granola bar?" you asked when he handed it to you, "how long has that been in there for? and why are you keeping food in here? the kitchen is like-" you started but your ramblings were cut short as paul rolled onto his side to wrap both arms around you, pulling you tightly into his chest.

You bite your lip anxiously. You know you will, but you were terrified. Buck was an amazing father already, but your relationship was still so fresh, and there was a difference between taking care of a toddler and taking care of a toddler plus a newborn.

Hen and Karen take your silence as a response, and crowd you into a group hug. "Congratulations. And tell him. That man loves you, he's going to be ecstatic."

That night, as the two of get ready for bed, you stand nervously in front of Buck, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, removing his socks.

"I have something to tell you."

Buck looks at you with a grin. "Shoot."

"I..I'm pregnant."

Buck doesn't say a word for a few seconds, and your heart drops. You close your eyes, willing to keep the tears threatening to escape, when you feel Buck's big, warm, calloused hands on your face.

"We're having a baby?" Buck breathes happily, tears of joy streaking his face.

You laugh breathlessly and incredulously. You nod emphatically, and Buck presses a sweet, long, and firm kiss to your lips. He then moves his hands down to rest on your stomach, looking at your barely showing belly with wonderment.

"How far?" Buck asks softly.

"Nine."

Buck does the math in his head, and chuckles lightly. "The night with all the strawberry wine?"

You giggle. "That wine had been killer."

Buck brings you close, the two of you in a comfortable embrace. "Our family is growing."

"I hope Theo will love having a little sibling."

"He will." Buck confirms, not a doubt in his mind.

The two of you remain in a sweet silence, before Buck quips up. "Should we name the baby Strawberry?"

The apartment was dark when Buck finally shoved the front door open with his shoulder. He looked exhausted.

Soot still marked the collar of his navy station shirt. With his duffel bag weighing down one shoulder, he kicked the door shut and let out a tired sigh. Every muscle ached from his shift. It had been a bad fire, with too many victims, too much adrenaline, and not enough sleep. As Buck trudged inside, all he wanted was to feel your arms around him, to sink into the comfort he always found in your presence. Just knowing you would be there waiting was sometimes the only thing that kept him going through nights like this. Buck tried to push the memories away, but the smell of smoke still lingered in his hair, and his mind replayed the chaos even as he stepped into the relative quiet. Sometimes, coming home was the only way he held himself together.

But coming home to you always made it better. Usually, you were waiting up for him. Usually, a lamp glowed, the TV hummed softly, and your sleepy smile showed as you curled deeper into the couch, pretending you hadn’t almost fallen asleep waiting. Tonight, though? Nothing. The apartment was silent.

Buck frowned immediately. “Baby?” he called, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. No answer. He glanced toward the kitchen. Empty. Living room. Empty. A strange unease crawled into his chest. When he checked the bed, you weren’t there. The blankets were rumpled and left behind. As soon as he noticed, his tiredness vanished, and sharp concern tightened his chest.

“Hey,” he called louder this time, heart starting to beat harder. “Honey?” Still nothing. Then, a sound. Small. Choked. Buck froze. It came from the bathroom. He crossed the room in seconds, knocking once before immediately trying the handle. Locked. Fear quickly took over, gripping his chest. “Sweetheart?” His voice softened instantly. “Hey, hey, open the door for me.”

A shaky sob answered him. The sound of your sob made Buck’s chest tighten, and dread soon replaced any hope he had. “Oh, baby…” He pressed his forehead to the door for a moment, took a steady breath, and steadied himself before speaking again. “You’re okay,” he said gently. “I’m right here. Can you unlock the door for me?”

There was fumbling on the other side. A metallic click. The second the lock opened, Buck pushed inside. Seeing you like that broke his heart, and the terror he felt turned into helpless agony. You were curled beside the tub, knees to your chest, hands trembling. Tears streamed down your face. Your quick, uneven breaths showed you couldn’t get enough air. You looked terrified. Absolutely terrified.

Buck dropped to his knees instantly beside you. “Oh, sweetheart…” You flinched at first before recognising him. “B-Buck-” “I got you.” His voice was impossibly soft now, careful and warm. “I got you, baby. I’m here.” Another broken sob escaped you.

“I c-can’t- I can’t breathe-”

“Yes, you can.” He moved slowly and carefully, as if you might break. “Look at me, honey. Just look at me.” Your panicked eyes found his. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl.” One hand settled carefully against the side of your face while the other rubbed slow circles against your back. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head immediately, crying harder. "I d-don’t know… I just- I saw the flashing lights outside the window, and for a second I thought something bad had happened. I got scared, and then I couldn’t stop-" It felt like your heartbeat was thundering against your ribs, too fast, too loud. Your lungs seized up, chest so tight it hurt to try to breathe. A cold, prickling sensation crawled up your arms, and your hands tingled, fingers curling against your knees. Inside your mind, thoughts tumbled over each other: what if something happened, what if it was Buck, what if something was wrong, and each thought felt heavier than the last. This wasn't the first time it had happened. You'd had panic attacks before, enough to recognize the way the world seemed to tilt and close in around you, even if you hated how powerless it always made you feel. Panic attack. Buck recognised it immediately. You were safe. You knew you were safe. But your body didn’t.

When Buck saw the fear in your eyes, his own fear turned into devastation. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, that’s alright. You’re alright. We’re not gonna fight it, okay? Just breathe with me.” Your breaths still came in sharp, painful gasps. Buck adjusted himself until he was sitting on the tile floor fully beside you, gently tugging you toward him. “C’mere.”

The second you leaned into him, he wrapped both arms around you tightly. Firm. Protective. Safe. He could feel how violently you were shaking. “Listen to me,” he said softly against your hair. “You’re home. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’ve got you.” You clutched fistfuls of his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear. Buck swallowed hard.

“Can you breathe with me?” he asked quietly. You nodded weakly. “Good. That’s my girl.” He exaggerated his own breathing slowly. “In… and out.” You tried to follow him. It took time. Several long minutes passed with trembling and tears. Buck kept rubbing gentle circles on your back and quietly coached each breath. But  eventually, your breathing slowed.

The tight grip you had on his shirt loosened slightly. Bit by bit, the terror left your eyes, and exhaustion took over instead.

“There you are,” Buck whispered gently, brushing damp hair away from your face. “Hi.” You let out a what turned into another small sniffle. “Sorry,” you whispered hoarsely. Buck frowned instantly. “Hey. No apologising for that.” You looked down, embarrassed. "I just… I couldn't stop."

Buck shook his head gently, voice soft. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes. There is nothing wrong or shameful about that. You have every right to feel how you feel. I'm just glad you let me be here with you." He gave a little half-smile, his fingers tracing a familiar path along your shoulder. "Remember that night last year, after your rough shift? You didn’t even say anything at first, just curled up beside me and held my hand until the sun came up, your fingers gripping mine so tightly I knew you were trying not to fall apart. Or the time I couldn't sleep, and you just sat with me until the world made sense again? I remember you brought me that old mug of cocoa, even though it was nearly 2 a.m., and you stayed awake with me, listening to all my rambling fears until they faded. And that rainy Sunday when we watched those old movies, barely speaking, but it felt safer than anything. You laughed at that ridiculous line in the middle of Casablanca until we both had tears in our eyes. We get through it together. It's always been that way."

“You don’t have to stop.” His thumb stroked softly beneath your eye, catching tears there. “You don’t ever have to handle this alone. No matter how many times this happens, I’ll always be here. I promise.” Your face crumpled again, emotional in a different way now. Buck pulled you against his chest immediately. “I got you,” he repeated quietly. “Always.”

You stayed there on the bathroom floor for a while after that. Just breathing. Just existing. Buck never once loosened his hold on you.

Later, wrapped in Buck’s hoodie and curled against his side beneath a mountain of blankets, the apartment finally felt calm again. The lights were dim. Rain tapped softly against the windows. Buck sat reclined in the corner of the couch with you tucked half on top of him, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other lazily stroked through your hair. Every so often, he pressed the gentlest kisses against your forehead, as if to reassure himself you were really there. Between kisses, he whispered, "I've got you, sweetheart," the words barely more than a breath in the hush of the room. Neither of you had turned the TV on. The silence felt softer now. Safer.

You traced tired patterns against his chest while listening to the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Buck pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “How’re you feeling?” he murmured. “Better.” Your voice was sleepy. Small. He tightened his arm around you instinctively. “Good.” You tilted your head enough to look up at him. “Sorry you came home to… all that.” Buck immediately shook his head. “No.” His voice was firm but gentle. “Don’t do that.” You sighed quietly. “I just hate when you see me like that.”

His expression softened so much it was almost painful to see. “Baby,” he whispered, “there’s nothing you could show me that would make me love you less.” Your eyes stung again. Buck noticed instantly. “Hey,” he murmured with a tiny smile. “None of that.” You laughed weakly, relief softening the tension you'd felt earlier. “There she is,” he teased softly.

You buried your face against his chest again, hiding your smile. Buck held you closer. And for the rest of the night, he barely let go of you once. Not because he thought you’d break. But because he knew that sometimes the scariest moments could be survived just by staying with you. Buck pressed another gentle kiss to your hair and whispered, "I'll always stay with you.

And even as you clung together, both of you carrying scars and fears, there was an unspoken promise that you would keep learning to heal. Buck held you close, hope quietly blossoming that each time would make you both a little stronger, and that together, you would always find your way through. Maybe soon you would talk honestly about what helped and what hurt, or look for new ways to ease the hardest nights, even if it meant reaching out for support beyond just each other. There was a quiet trust growing between you, a belief that by taking care of yourselves and each other, you could begin to find steadier ground. No matter what came next, you would face it side by side.

(Y/n) twisted to the right as much as she could with her arms full and body weighed down. Her lips rolled into a thin line and her eyes followed Eddie as he weaved in front of her to unlock the front door for her, but he made no attempt to walk inside or move out her way.

Instead, he looked down at her with one arched brow and a stern look that had (Y/n) shivering while his eyes raked her up and down.

She had a shopping bag hooked on her left elbow, two weighing down in her right hand. And Marie was perched on her left hip, both arms around (Y/n)'s neck and her face buried in her mum's shoulder.

"Bringing the shopping in?" (Y/n) wasn't sure why it sounded like a question more than an answer, but she shivered when Eddie sighed at her.

She huffed and shook her head when Eddie reached over and gently but firmly took Marie from her, letting the four year old cuddle up in the middle of his chest. And he took the two bags weighing down in her right hand, leaving (Y/n) with one bag left on her elbow.

"I can carry the shopping, Eddie." (Y/n) followed after him when he opened the door and headed inside.

"Really? You can carry the twins, all the shopping and Carino? I don't think so."

"You're literally doing it too-"

"I'm not six months pregnant." Eddie quipped without looking over his shoulder.

He tilted his head down to kiss the top of Marie's head while he set the shopping down on the kitchen counter and moved his hand to run up and down her back. The four year old looked like she wanted a nap, she wasn't even speaking right now which meant she was tired out.

Eddie knew (Y/n) was capable, but he didn't want her to carry all the shopping and Marie when she was pregnant with twins. That was too much and he knew she was trying to carry on as normal these days which wasn't going to end well. (Y/n) was pushing herself too hard, trying to do everything at once and do all the things she would do before she was pregnant.

They had gone through this before, (Y/n) had been pregnant with Marie and Nate four years ago and she knew how hard it had been. Having twins again meant (Y/n) needed to take it easy and not overdo anything. That was why Eddie and Evan were trying to get her to rest so they could do more around the house and with the kids.

"Go sit down." Eddie ticked his head to the side to indicate towards the living room and he rose a brow when he noticed (Y/n) had one hand on her stomach as she tried to catch her breath back.

"I'm fine, besides there's more shopping and you've literally just finished work-"

"Sit down, please. Marie can unpack and I'll bring the rest in."

With pursed lips, Eddie leaned down and gently set Marie down to her feet, smiling softly when she flopped to sit down on the kitchen floor in front of his feet. And immediately the little girl started to rake everything out of the bags, setting them into piles. Things for the fridge, freezer and cupboard items. Marie wouldn't put anything away, but she would happily unpack the bags and sort them into a regime order.

He ruffled his fingers through her hair and looked up when he heard (Y/n) moving. She was going into the living room, she was agreeing with him.

"Let me go find papa, see if he can help us."

(Y/n) twisted towards the living room, but after a second thought, she turned and headed down the hall and out the door. There wasn't a lot of shopping left and it needed to be packed away before the food started to thaw. She couldn't just sit down and do nothing when they had stuff to do around the house.

They needed to start making dinner, she had to check on Chris since he wasn't well today, the washing needed doing. Eddie needed to go and rest because he had been on a double shift, like Evan who had come home around lunchtime and went straight for a power nap. There wasn't time for (Y/n) to sit around when she felt well enough to help.

She hooked the last three bags over her wrists, locked the car and turned to head back inside. It had been a split second decision when (Y/n) went to get the twins from preschool that she decided they would just go straight to the shops and do the shopping. It saved time doing it now and it meant Evan didn't have to do it tomorrow after work when the shops would be packed and he wouldn't have to take all three kids with him since (Y/n) and Eddie were both at work tomorrow.

She kicked the front door shut behind her but paused in the hallway when she looked past the living room.

Evan and Nate.

The four year old was strolling down the hall like he was on a mission and he had Evan's hand deadlocked in his own, dragging one of his two dads down the hall like he was a pet on a leash.

Evan trudged ahead, his bare feet thudding against the laminate floor while his free hand rubbed against his eyes to try and wake himself up a bit more. He hadn't realised the time until Nate came jumping on the bed to wake him up, attaching himself to his dad for hugs and cuddles, their usual routine when the twins came home from preschool.

"Why didn't you wake me? I would have gone shopping with you, baby." His eyes looked (Y/n) up and down before he leaned over and murmured 'kitchen' to Nate, watching the four year old trot away.

If she'd of woken him Evan would have gotten dressed and tagged along to help with the shopping. He knew it wasn't easy to go do the food shop when the twins were sat in the trolley, trying to reach out for anything and everything on the shelves within their grasp.

(Y/n) was supposed to be taking it easy. Running herself ragged round the shop with the twins didn't count as taking things easy.

Heading over, Evan leaned down and caught her lips in a kiss, taking her by surprise. His lips were warm and slightly chapped but there was some power behind them. He stole (Y/n)'s attention long enough to reach down and grab the bags from her hands, taking them before she realised what he was doing.

"You're meant to be taking it easy," Evan whispered chidingly against her lips, kissing her again and taking the air from her lungs with it.

"And you needed to rest." She wasn't going to wake Evan up when he had been on a long shift through the night and had been awake for over twenty four hours. He needed to take it easy too and he had been tired, (Y/n) thought it better to let him sleep, especially since Chris had fallen asleep too and the pair of them could settle better while the twins weren't home causing mayhem.

Eddie tutted quietly when he caught the pair of them in the hallway, after he specifically told (Y/n) to go sit down before she overdid things. His lips attached to the back of Evan's neck and he felt the shiver that rolled down his boyfriend's spine while he took the shopping bags from him.

"Me and the twins will sort the shopping." He had already enlisted Nate to put the easy stuff in the cupboards and Marie was now singing along to the radio. She had livened up a bit but Eddie knew he was going to have to get them both to take a nap soon because they would be running on last reserves.

"I'll go check on Chris-" (Y/n) bowed her head, trying her best to fight off a smile when both Evan's arms looped around her waist the moment she tried to move past him.

She felt his chest glue down over her back and his hands feathered up and down her bump while he pecked her cheek.

"He's had a shower and gone back to sleep, he feels a bit better. Come on, let's sit down."

Evan had checked on Chris a second ago when Nate woke him up. The eldest had managed to drag himself for a shower and now he was having another nap. He had been awake through the night being sick so he was spending most of the day recovering. Evan knew (Y/n) wanted to make sure he was okay, but she didn't need to exert herself.

A quiet grumble left (Y/n)'s lips when she felt the babies kicking and both Evan's hands moved a bit lower down on her stomach to feel the movement. His thumb glided up and down her skin while he peppered kisses along her jaw and twisted them both to the right to steer them into the living room.

He sat down on the sofa and gently pulled (Y/n) along with him until she sat down between his thighs. Her head fell back on his shoulder and her hands held onto his wrists.

She let her eyes fall closed, focusing on the feeling of Evan's thighs pressing down into hers and his fingers tapping along her stomach in time with the movements they were both feeling.

"You know I need to make dinner soon, right?" Her eyes stayed closed while she twisted her head so she could bury her face into Evan's neck.

His skin felt burning hot against hers but it was a soothing warmth and feeling and she felt each breath he took and the vibrations in his throat when he chuckled. His hands glided up and down her stomach as he slouched down into the sofa, seemingly getting comfier and easing (Y/n) back against him.

"Or are we letting Eddie loose in the kitchen?"

"Ten minutes, then I'll cook chicken." Since Chris wasn't well the best thing for him was something bland, and Chris wasn't keen on chicken soup which was good, since neither were the twins.

Evan could make some chicken and rice, which Chris would eat plain and the twins would eat if it had mayo on, for some strange reason. And Evan would make some korma for him and his partners. But for now, he wanted a few minutes to sit with (Y/n) and make sure she actually calmed down and relaxed before he went to cook and he knew (Y/n) would find something else to do around the house instead of relaxing.

***

A smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen. Her body leaned to the right, slumping against the doorframe as she rose a brow and tilted her head to one side.

"What're you up to?" Her tone was fond and her eyes creased when she looked across at Chris.

The eldest was stood leaning against the kitchen counter with flour, cracked eggs and milk splattered around him and stuck to his forearms. He had a whisk and a large plastic mixing bowl in front of him and when he turned to look over his shoulder, (Y/n)'s smile widened. He had some of the mixture on the end of his nose and flour smudged into his glasses.

He was certainly feeling better than he had two days ago if he was up and ready for breakfast. He hadn't been feeling well enough for breakfast for the last two days, but he seemed almost back to normal now.

"Making pancakes," He responded with a toothy grin while (Y/n) padded across to him and leaned over his shoulder.

"Looks good baby." She pecked his temple and wiped the batter from his nose before she grabbed the empty milk carton and a few other rubbish bits from the side of the counter.

She could see that Chris knew to make a big mixture since both dads were home and would be having breakfast before they went on shift. And the twins loved pancakes too. He knew the only person who wouldn't want any pancakes was (Y/n), she hadn't been eating breakfast lately either because it made her queasy.

"Can I start frying?"

"Sure, just be careful please." (Y/n) pointed to the right pan he needed before she moved towards the back door.

She could hear Chris turning the radio on when she headed out the back door and over towards the bins. She always knew when each of the boys were in the kitchen. If something smelled good, Evan was cooking. If the radio was on full blast and pots and pans were clanging together, it was Chris helping in the kitchen. And if anything was burning and a round of Spanish cursives flooded the air, then it was definitely Eddie.

As much as (Y/n) loved being in the kitchen when Chris was cooking or baking, she was glad to be outside for a few moments. Pancakes weren't something she could stomach at the moment. Her cravings were very mix-matched with this pregnancy and a lot of smells were still making her queasy. (Y/n) blamed the boys.

She grabbed the rubbish bin and turned it around so she could wheel it out onto the drive.

Her free hand absentmindedly pulled her shirt down, trying to pull it as far down as possible. She was used to her work shirts going down near her thighs but now she was pregnant, they barely covered her stomach. She had already had to go up two sizes and soon she would have to go up a third. She felt awful asking Sue at dispatch where she had to get a bigger sized work shirt and now she was going to have to go up another size, again.

She gave the bin a push before stopping when she noticed another bag of rubbish on the floor.

She wasn't sure what happened.

When she reached down to grab the bag, something akin to an electric shock surged right down the centre of her back towards her tailbone and she couldn't help the cry that burst past her lips. Her hand let go of the bin in favour of the wall which she used as leverage to drop down to her knees as her legs began to shake.

(Y/n) let herself lean to the left and slump into the wall while her right hand flapped about behind her and pressed against her back. She wasn't sure whether it was a nerve that got trapped or if it was a muscle spasming, but either way, the feeling broke her back. Tears were already dripping down her face and her chest seized up, barely allowing her to gain a deep breath.

"Mum?" Chris leaned his head around the open door, frowning when he saw her knelt on the floor just beside the door. What was she doing?

"G-get your dad, please."

Chris spun on his heels and zipped out of the kitchen, rushing into the hallway until he came to an abrupt stop when the bathroom door swung open.

"Pops!"

"Yeah?" Evan rubbed the towel harshly against his ear and tilted his head to the left, his lips quirking as his eyes creased. He hated having water stuck in his ears, it made him feel like he was going to be sick.

He squinted as he turned and looked over at Chris. The eldest was in his uniform that was already caked in flour and had some sort of mixture stuck on the sleeves which were rolled up around his elbows. It differed to Evan's choice of clothes this morning. He wasn't at work until this afternoon and he planned on going on a run soon so he opted for a pair of running shorts. While his gym vest was laid out on the bed ready to be put on.

At least he hoped his vest was still somewhere on the bed. He knew Eddie was getting the twins dressed which meant they could be messing about in the bedroom for all Evan knew.

"Mum- I think mum fell in the garden."

"Fell? Oh Christ." Evan tossed the towel behind him back into the bathroom and shook his damp curls as he hurried over to Chris. His hand fell on Chris's shoulder and he nudged him back into the kitchen, crinkling his nose when he smelt pancakes and heard the pan sizzling and spitting oil.

He reached across to the stove and turned it down before he moved the pan and pointed at the mixture.

"Don't burn anything, get back to cooking." His voice was softer around the edges before he stepped out the back door. He didn't want Chris to stop cooking and hang around panicking, there was no need for any of the kids to panic. Yet.

A shiver tore up his legs and twisted in the back of his neck when his bare feet him the damp concrete. At least he didn't have to look or move far to find (Y/n). She was down on her knees in front of the bin, her back to him and her body slumped heavily on the wall.

"Baby? Baby, what happened?" He moved round so he was knelt down in front of her, one hand on her arm and the other cupping her chin so he could tilt her head up in his direction. "Did you fall?"

What had she been doing?

He and Eddie had practically been fighting with her this past week or two to try and get her to slow down. She was doing far too much when she was pregnant and they were having another set of twins. They learned from their past pregnancy that if (Y/n) didn't take it easy, she would make herself ill.

"M-my back… oow, something's pulled." Her voice came out shaky and quiet as she looked up through her watering lashes to lock eyes with Evan.

He rolled his lips together and leaned around her, trying to be as delicate as possible when he pressed his hand down on her back. About halfway down, his touch sent shockwaves through (Y/n)'s back and she mewled, twisting to get away from his touch. It felt like a muscle rather than a nerve, but it hurt. It hurt really bad.

"Sorry," He soothed, leaning forward to peck her temple that was starting to become flushed. He feathered his hand away from her back and traced his fingertips across her stomach instead. "They okay?" She still hadn't said whether she fell or not and Evan wanted to make sure he didn't have to worry about the babies either.

God knows he and Eddie had been worried when (Y/n) was first pregnant with Nate and Marie. She seemed to be constantly sick or in pain during that first pregnancy. And it had been a shock to all of them this time around when they found out they were having another set of twins.

"Hm."

"Good. Can you straighten up, baby?"

Evan moved his hands to (Y/n)'s elbows, helping her turn a little so she was facing him a bit better. But when he tried to help her straighten up, he saw the agony flash across her face and dance in her pupils before her eyes snapped closed. She barely managed to lift her chest up straight before she coiled over like an elastic band, leaning until her chest was pushing down on her bump.

"Okay, okay, can I try and get you up and inside?" Sitting out here wasn't going to do them any favours, Evan could assess and try to help her better once they were inside.

His arms wormed beneath hers and his hands were gentle when they splayed out on her lower back, trying not to apply any pressure so he didn't hurt her. He waited until (Y/n)'s hands clenched down on his shoulders and her face smothered into his bare chest before he tried to move.

His knees had gone cold and numb from being pressed down on the damp concrete and his toes were tingling when he tried to push up. He got into a crouching position and slowly lifted (Y/n) up but she was barely off her knees before she cried out.

Her nails scratched into Evan's shoulders and she choked on a sob, pulling on his shoulders until he had no choice but to lower her back down on her knees again.

"Baby I need to get you inside-"

"Evan i-it kills."

"I know, I know." He murmured against her temple, kissing her burning skin before he leaned back. "Chris, go get your dad for me." Evan was going to need some help if (Y/n) wouldn't let him hoist her up.

"No, I can-" (Y/n) leaned to the right but when she couldn't straighten up and it was too agonising to let Evan lift her up, there wasn't much she could do. She tried to shuffle. The back door was only three feet away, if she could just get inside she could sit on the kitchen floor until her back eased enough to let her up.

"Baby you can't crawl inside." There was something almost nostalgic and adoring in Evan's voice. He admired her will to get inside, but he couldn't let her crawl or shuffle, it wouldn't work.

She was going to make herself even worse if she tried to crawl back inside. He needed to get her up somehow. The longer (Y/n) stayed crippled down like this, the more likely her back was going to lock in place and then it would be even harder to get her up.

He tightened his arms around her and went back to kissing her temple when she started to whimper. His right arm left her waist and opted to tangle his fingers in her hair instead. He kissed the top of her head, hushing her as she clutched his shoulders.

"Nate get off the table!" Eddie snapped in his warning tone, pointing at the four year old before he leaned around the back door. It took him a moment to find both his partners and he was taken by surprise to find them on the floor.

Especially when he realised that Evan was only wearing a pair of loose gym shorts. He had no shirt on and no socks or shoes on his feet.

"What're you two doing?"

Evan's lips stayed meshed against (Y/n)'s temple for a few more moments before his eyes trailed up to look at his boyfriend.

Eddie's growing curls were askew on his head and he had a trace of stubble across his face that looked fetching and rugged. He was in his uniform since his shift started earlier than Evan's and the way Eddie arched a brow made Evan's heart flip.

"She's pulled her back, I can't get her up."

"Shit. Alright mi amor, let me take a look." Eddie's lips pulled down into a frown and he sighed before he stepped outside and knelt down behind (Y/n).

His hands found her shoulders and he took a moment to kiss her exposed neck before he tried to help her straighten up, but she shook her head. Her face stayed meshed against Evan's chest and she clutched his shoulders tighter. She didn't want to straighten up or stand or move at all, not when her back was hurting her this much.

His fingertips pressed down her back, starting from the top of her neck and going down either side of her spine. He felt the way she jolted away from his touch and how a spasm rolled through her back when he touched a certain part of her lower back on the left side.

"It's a muscle, not a nerve. Mi amor we need to try and get you up, I know it's gonna hurt but we can't stay out here."

Waiting wasn't going to do them any favours. (Y/n) wasn't going to feel much better in a few minutes or even hours so she couldn't stay here, knelt outside on the floor. They needed to move her sooner or later and Eddie would rather get her inside now so they could determine whether they had to make a trip down to the hospital or not.

"Alright, here we go."

Eddie moved his hands to (Y/n)'s hips while Evan gripped the back of her arms, letting her keep hold of his shoulders, ready to take her weight when they got her stood up.

Both men slowly pushed up onto their feet and carefully stood up, pulling (Y/n) with them who tried to stay crippled over. Her back arched out even more and her head moved down Evan's chest until she was almost pushing her temple into his abdomen.

Her knees bent and they could tell she wanted to try and kneel back down on the floor but both of them were holding her up, taking as much of her weight as she'd let them so she could stay upright.

A quiet 'oow' mewled past her lips and tears fell off the bridge of her nose as her hands moved down from Evan's shoulders to grip his biceps instead. She wanted to crouch down again, especially when she felt Eddie's hand pressing into her back to try and get her to straighten up.

His lips pressed against the back of her head and Evan squeezed her sides once they were all stood up, somewhat.

Eddie slowly started walking backwards and Evan shuffled forward, carefully nudging (Y/n) along with them like they were doing some kind of strange tango.

They both felt the way (Y/n) shuddered and groaned when they got her up the kitchen step and inside.

Three steps inside and her head started to shake and she was gasping and trying to bend her knees again. Her hands scraped down Evan's arms and she tried to lower herself down to sit on the floor. Her back felt like someone was pulling and stretching the muscle and it was throbbing and sending sparkwaves down to her feet.

"Hurts."

"No- no baby please don't sit down." Evan couldn't help but tighten his hands around (Y/n) while Eddie let go of her hips and looped his arms around her waist instead. He pulled her back into his chest and moulded around her, stopping her from kneeling down.

"If you go down we won't get you back up again, mi amor. Let's sit you down on the sofa, please?"

They kept walking, not really giving (Y/n) chance to argue because they had to keep moving. They had to either sit her on the sofa or at the table, if she went on the floor they would be back to square one and she would be stuck again.

"Nate, off the table." Evan reached his hand out and clicked his finger at their boy who was just about to climb up from his chair and scramble onto the kitchen table.

The four year old stopped and let out a small noise before he slid back down into his seat.

(Y/n) felt like she was going to blackout when they got into the living room and she tried to bend again. Her head began to swim, her eyes rolled and shakes tore throughout her body when the boys tried to be careful and ease her down onto the sofa.

A feeble cry passed her lips when she sank down into the sofa and her head flopped back on the cushion while both hands stayed clutching Evan's bicep causing him to lean over her.

He kissed her temple, smoothing his hand up and down her waist while his other hand gripped the arm of the sofa so he didn't wobble or fall onto her.

"I'm gonna call Maddie, let her know you won't be at work today. And I'll call Bobby, tell him I'm not heading in either."

"Babe no-"

"No? You think you'll be able to pick up the kids this afternoon if we've had to carry you in here? Someone's gotta stay home with you." Evan cocked a hip out to the side and tilted his head while (Y/n) looked down at her hands with a disquieted grumble.

She didn't want to stop the boys from going to work either, but Evan was right. If she could barely walk through the house and couldn't stand up straight, how was she going to look after the kids? She wasn't going to be able to drop the twins off at preschool and Chris at school or pick them up in this state. She wasn't going to be much good cooking or trying to tidy up or entertaining the kids after school.

One of the boys would have to stay with her and Evan wasn't supposed to be at work until the afternoon shift, so it might as well be him.

"I'll go make the calls." He pecked her temple again before he pushed up and headed down the hall to go find his phone. He had to let Maddie know so she could tell Sue (Y/n) wouldn't be turning up today, or for her next few shifts at this rate.

Eddie ran his hand up and down his face before he flopped down next to (Y/n), looping his arm around the back of her shoulders. He leaned in close so he could perch his chin on her shoulder and pressed a tender kiss to the side of her neck.

"I- I can't- the kids," Her head tilted to the right and she nudged her temple against Eddie's. She tried to lean into him but moving to the side made her wince and had her back jerking forward.

She couldn't be immobile. She had Chris and the twins to look after, she was a mum. She had to be up and moving about, she was busy, the kids needed looking after. Eddie and Evan couldn't do everything and go to work, it wouldn't be fair.

"I don't think you've got much choice in this, baby." Eddie kissed her temple and shuffled closer so he could lean into her and nuzzle his lips against the side of her head.

(Y/n) felt his lips curving into a grin against her temple and she pursed her lips, trying to stop herself from crying. She nudged his abdomen with her elbow when she felt him silently chuckling beside her and she huffed a croaky "What's so funny?"

"We told you not to overdo it and to rest… now you don't really have a choice, do you?"

She could hear what he was saying hidden in those words. This was almost like payback for overexerting herself these last few weeks. (Y/n) had tried to do her usual tasks, which was more than her fair share when she was six months pregnant. The boys had told her to take it easy and now (Y/n) wouldn't have a choice because she was in too much pain to argue or overwork herself.

"I n-need to sort the kids," She chose to ignore his comment and tried to press her hands down into the sofa and push up. But even leaning up from how she was slouched into the sofa felt horrid and had fresh tears streaming down her face.

She felt Eddie's hand tighten on her shoulder and he gently but firmly pulled her back down into the sofa.

"Hey," He murmured softly, grazing his teeth along her neck while his other hand moved to graze across her stomach. "You look after these twins, we've got Chris and the other troublesome twosome."

A sigh rumbled past Eddie's lips and he looked across at the doorway when a small 'daddy' got his attention. He arched a brow and couldn't help the smile that flitted across his lips when he looked over at Marie. The four year old was stood in the doorway, her hands outstretched in front of her and her little doe eyes were wide and set on him intently.

"What's up baby girl?"

"I need help."

Eddie's smile widened when he leaned over (Y/n) to get a better look at their daughter and he realised what she was holding in her hands. Her juice bottle. Someone had either gotten her one out the fridge or left one lying around because she now had an unopened bottle of juice in her hands, but she couldn't undo the lid.

"Alright, come here." He unravelled his arm from (Y/n)'s shoulders and leaned forward, clapping his hands before he held his arms out and waited for her to trot over and stand between his knees. He hoisted her up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, perching his chin on top of her head while he opened the bottle for her.

"Mummy okay?" Marie whispered, reaching out to pat (Y/n)'s thigh when she noticed the tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face.

"Just a bad back, sweetie." (Y/n) brushed her hand beneath her eyes and took Marie's hand in hers, giving a little squeeze.