lylylyjen

People crowded behind the barricades frozen, staring at the burning building in horror, and victims wrapped in blankets as paramedics checked for injuries. 

Inside, the heat was unbearable. “One eighteen, evacuate immediately!” Bobby’s voice came sharply through the radios. “This building is too unstable!” 

On the third floor, Chimney shoved against a collapsed hallway while (Y/n) aimed water toward the flames pushing through the walls. “Cap, we still got one victim!” Chim called into the radio. “Third floor, bravo side! We can’t reach her, the entrance is completely blocked!” he added.

Above them, on the fourth floor, Eddie turned toward Buck just in time to catch the look in his eyes. Buck was already thinking of a solution. His gaze moved quickly around the apartment until it landed on a thick support beam beside the window.

“I can anchor from here,” Buck said suddenly, pointing at the beam “The apartment above them lines up almost perfectly.”

Eddie frowned immediately. “Buck…” he was already done with the idea. “I can rappel down the outside and get her through the window.” Buck explained.

Another loud groan shook the floor beneath them. Dust rained from the ceiling. Buck grabbed his radio, he was going to try and rescue the victim no matter what. “Cap, I can rappel down and her from the outside.”

Static crackled for a moment, Bobby closed his eyes for a moment as he thought of the scenario. “You got maybe two minutes before this place comes down, Buck” Bobby answered. 

“I know.” Buck said, eyes locked on Eddie as they waited for an answer.

There was a pause.

Buck could almost picture Bobby downstairs, stressed out of his mind while trying to keep the whole scene from turning into a disaster. Finally Bobby sighed heavily into the radio. “Do it. Don’t make me regret this.” 

Buck grinned despite the situation. “Never do.” he smiled. 

Rain slammed into Buck the second Eddie shoved open the window. Wind whipped through the room, carrying smoke and ash with it. Down below, the street looked impossibly far away.

“You die, I’m gonna kill you,” Eddie muttered while helping secure the rope around the beam. Buck clipped himself into the line. “That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“It makes sense to me.” Eddie answered. 

Buck laughed softly before swinging himself out the window. The cold rain soaked through his turnout gear almost instantly as he rappelled down the side of the building. Flames burned only feet away from him, lighting the rain orange.

Below, Chimney and (Y/n) made it out of the building. (Y/n) yanked off her oxygen mask and took off her flash hood. She took her helmet and put it underneath her arm. She felt her stomach twist painfully when she walked over towards Bobby and spotted Buck disappearing over the edge.

“Oh my God…” she mumbled to herself. Her eyes stayed locked on him while he lowered himself toward the third-floor apartment where she had just been. Smoke poured from the window frame that was still closed. Buck grabbed a small glass-breaking tool from his gear and pushed it into the corner of the glass.

The window shattered instantly, and that’s when Eddie made it outside the building. 

Buck climbed inside. The apartment looked like hell. Flames crawled up the walls and smoke filled every inch of the room. Near the couch, a woman in light blue scrubs struggled on her hands and knees, coughing so hard she could barely breathe.

Buck rushed toward her immediately. “Hey, hey,” he said firmly, kneeling beside her. “Look at me.” Her terrified eyes lifted toward him. “I can’t breathe” she said between coughs. “I know. I got you.”

He helped her to her feet quickly, already hearing the dangerous creaking around them. This place was seconds away from blowing apart. Buck pulled out his rescue sling and quickly secured it around her body before attaching it to his own harness and rope system.

“Listen to me,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “You need to hold onto me as tight as you can, alright?” The woman stared at the burning window behind him, panic flooding her face, she shook her head in panic. “I can’t do that.” she cried. 

“Yes, you can.” Buck said, but before he could finish his sentence, the room suddenly shook violently.

Fire burst through part of the ceiling. Buck stepped onto the window ledge, one hand tight around the rope while rain poured against his face. “Come on!” he called out. But she froze.

Then the apartment exploded behind them.

Buck reacted instantly. He grabbed her by the rescue sling and pulled her hard against his chest just as flames tore through the room. She cried out, but automatically her arms locked tightly around his neck while her legs wrapped around his waist.

Buck pushed them both backward out the window. The sudden drop made her scream. 

People below shouted as Buck lowered them down the building as fast as he could. Heat chased after them while flames spread higher along the outside wall.

(Y/n)’s heart pounded painfully in her chest while she watched him descend. Too fast. Way too fast. Then she saw it. Fire licking against the rope.

Her breath caught in her throat, “No…” she whispered. 

The rope snapped. For one horrible second, Buck and the woman disappeared into darkness as they fell.

They crashed down onto the large rescue air cushion below them, the impact bouncing them violently into the air again before the bag finally settled.

Everything stopped, nobody made a sound. Then Buck groaned and lifted his head.

Relieved shouts and clapping erupted around the street. (Y/n) nearly collapsed where she stood. 

A few firefighters from other houses rushed onto the air cushion to help the woman. She was shaking badly as they guided her off, but before they could bring her toward the ambulance, she turned back toward Buck. Buck shifted himself off the air cushion and stood up straight on the pavement.

“Thank you…” she breathed, she stared at him for another second. “What’s your name?” She asked. 

“Buck,” he answered while catching his breath. “Evan Buckley.” 

“Thank you Buck” she repeated softly, almost like she was memorizing it. There was a moment of silence, and then suddenly she wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Buck blinked in surprise before awkwardly patting her shoulder. “Uh… just doing my job, ma’am” he said. 

The woman let him go, and another firefighter came up to her side to guide her towards the ambulance. “Let’s get you checked out by the medics.” the other firefighter told her. 

Buck watched her walk away, until… someone shoved him hard in the chest.

Buck stumbled back slightly, blinking in surprise before looking up. “What the hell was that for?” he asked breathlessly. But the question barely left his mouth before (Y/n) grabbed the front of his turnout coat and pulled him into a tight hug.

She held onto him hard enough that he could feel her shaking. “Never do that again” she whispered, her voice trembling against his shoulder.

Buck’s expression softened instantly, as he looked down. The teasing look disappeared from his face as his arms wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her closer. “Hey,” he murmured softly, and let his chin rest on the top of her head “I’m okay.”

______

The firehouse was busy in the way it always was. Music played softly somewhere in the background while everyone moved around doing chores. The smell of coffee drifted through the kitchen, mixing with soap and smoke that never really left the station no matter how much cleaning they did.

Chimney was reorganizing medical supplies while complaining under his breath, while Hen walked back and forth between the supplies closet. In the meanwhile Eddie was busy changing the blade of one of the saws. 

Near the sink, Buck was busy drying dishes while (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside him, casually stealing pieces of fruit from a bowl, instead of doing her actual assigned task. 

Buck caught her grabbing another strawberry and pointed the dish towel at her immediately. “Seriously? That’s, like, the fifth one.” he said. 

(Y/n) looked entirely unbothered while eating it. “You have no proof.” she said, holding up her hands all innocent. 

Buck’s eyebrows furrowed at her reaction, “I literally watched you take it.” 

“Allegedly.”

Buck laughed under his breath, shaking his head and stacked another plate on the already dry and clean pile of plates, while she grinned proudly at herself.

A second later, she opened the tap to clean her fingers. But her intrusive thoughts won, she closed the tap again, and let her fingers into the sink, scooping a bit of water and foam and flicking droplets including foam directly at him.

Buck froze. Slowly, he turned his head toward her, “Oh, you’re dead.” He said, putting down the fork he was drying with his towel. 

(Y/n) immediately laughed. “You wouldn’t hurt me.” she reacted, daring him basically. 

“Wanna bet?” Buck asked. Before she could answer, Buck grabbed the wet towel into his right hand and snapped it lightly toward her. She yelped, laughing while trying to shove him away before he could do it again.

“Buck!”

“Oh, now you wanna act innocent?”

“You started it!”

“I absolutely did not-”

“Uh… Buck?” The voice made both of them stop immediately.

Buck lowered the towel while (Y/n) stepped back beside him, trying (and failing) to hide her smile.

Stepping onto the loft was Chim, looking mildly amused. Beside him stood a familiar woman in light blue scrubs.

It was the woman from the apartment fire from the last shift. She held a white bakery box in both hands, though her attention was completely fixed on Buck.

Buck blinked in surprise before recognition crossed his face. “Oh, hey.” Buck said. 

The woman smiled softly at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

Chim gestured awkwardly between them. “Your rescuee brought gifts.” Chimney said. Buck snorted quietly. “You make that sound weird.” 

“It is a weird word” Chim said, placing his hands on his hips and waiting for the interaction between Buck and the woman. 

She carefully held out the bakery box. “I just wanted to thank you properly. For saving my life.” she smiled. 

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Buck smiled friendly. “I know,” she answered softly. “But I wanted to.”

She handed over the box to Buck, “Well.. thank you…” Buck said as he looked over at her badge from the hospital she worked at that had her picture, her name and position on it. “…Sierra” he added. 

An awkward silence settled for a second before (Y/n) stepped forward politely.

(Y/n) stepped forward politely, her tone warm but careful. “So… Sierra, how are you feeling? Are you doing okay?”

Sierra looked at her. For a moment, she didn’t answer, not immediately. Her eyes flicked over (Y/n) slowly, like she was recalculating something she hadn’t expected to be asked.

Then she smiled, “I’m fine,” she said simply. Too simple. Too controlled. “I mean… I was fine,” she added after a beat. “Thanks to him.” She said, and let her eyes wander back to Buck. 

Chim awkwardly cleared his throat, clearly sensing the weird atmosphere too. “Well,” Chimney said quickly, pointing toward the stairs. “I’m gonna go… do literally anything else.”

(Y/n) let out a quiet laugh at that before nodding toward Eddie’s direction. “I’m gonna go supervise Eddie before he starts fighting with the saw again.”

“The saw started it. And you do realize I can hear you, right?” Eddie reacted from across the bay. 

Buck laughed softly. (Y/n) nudged his side lightly as she walked past him. “Behave.” she said, and left the loft with those words, with Chim immediately following after her. “Please save me from the saw lecture,” he begged dramatically.

(Y/n) laughed quietly. “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m suffering.”

“You’ve been suffering for like twenty years.”

“And somehow this place keeps making it worse.” Their voices faded further down the stairs, leaving Buck and Sierra alone in the kitchen.

For a moment, Sierra watched the stairs where (Y/n) had disappeared. Then she looked back at Buck. The warmth in her expression returned almost immediately.

“So…” she said carefully. “She’s your girlfriend?” she asked, trying to get some clarity. Buck looked confused for half a second before nodding. “Yeah.” Sierra nodded slowly, eyes lowering briefly toward the bakery box in his hands.

“How long have you been together?” Sierra asked. “About two years now.” Buck just answered the question. Sierra gave him another small nod.

Buck shifted slightly, sensing something strange in the conversation now, though he couldn’t quite place it. “She probably worries about you a lot,” Sierra said quietly. Buck let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. Comes with the job, I guess.”

Buck opened the bakery box slightly before looking impressed. “Okay, these actually smell amazing.” That finally pulled a softer smile out of Sierra again, “I baked them myself.” she said. 

“You bake too?” Buck asked, a bit surprised. “A little.” Sierra answered.  Buck smiled friendly. “Well, thank you. Seriously. You didn’t have to drive all the way here for this.”

Sierra watched him closely for a second before answering softly, “I wanted to see you again.”

The words lingered in the air just a little too long. Buck’s smile faded slightly around the edges. Not enough to seem rude. Just enough for the atmosphere to shift.

A second later, Sierra stepped back slightly. “Well… I should probably let you get back to work.” she said. Buck nodded politely. “Thanks again for the pastries.” “Of course,” Sierra replied quietly, and then she turned and walked toward the exit.

But just before leaving the station, she glanced back at him one last time.

Buck stood still for a moment after Sierra left the station. The bakery box in his hands while the front door shut behind her. Something about that conversation bothered him. Not enough to truly alarm him. Just enough to stay stuck in the back of his mind.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs a second later before Hen appeared in the loft, pulling off her gloves as she followed his glance towards the station entrance. “She gone?” Hen asked casually.

Buck nodded slowly, still staring toward the doors. Hen noticed the look on his face immediately. “What?” she asked. Buck looked down at the bakery box before setting it on the counter. “Did that feel weird to you?” he asked her.

Hen leaned against the counter beside him. “Depends. Define weird.” Hen said. Buck let out a quiet breath through his nose. “I don’t know…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The way she kept looking at me.”

Hen gave him a look. “Buck, people tend to look at the guy who pulled them out of a burning building.” Buck held out his hand, that he knew what she meant. “No, I know that.” He shook his head quickly. “Not like grateful weird. Just… weird weird.”

Hen stayed quiet, letting him continue. Buck frowned slightly while thinking back on the conversation. “She barely acknowledged (Y/n).” he tried to point out. 

Hen hummed softly.

“And the questions were kinda strange too.” Buck added. “What questions? What did she ask?”  Buck leaned back against the counter. “She asked if (Y/n) worries about me a lot. Asked how long we’ve been together.”

“That’s not that weird.”

“I know, but…” Buck paused. “It was the way she asked.” Hen raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?” Buck struggled for the right words for a second. “It was like she was trying to figure something out.”

That made Hen’s expression shift slightly. Buck sighed quietly. “And then she said she came all the way here because she ‘wanted to see me again.’” he said while using his fingers to quote. 

Hen blinked once. “Oh…”  

“Yeah, see? That’s what I said.”

A small silence settled between them.

Buck glanced toward the bakery box again. “She also kinda looked at (Y/n) like…” He frowned. “I don’t know. Like she didn’t want her there.” he explained. 

“Okay,” Hen admitted slowly. “That part’s weird.” Buck pointed at her immediately. “Right?” Hen looked down at the pastries. Then she slowly slid the box farther away from both of them. Buck noticed immediately. “Wow. You think she poisoned me already?”

Hen looked completely serious. “Buck, after the brownies incident, I trust nobody.” Buck stared at her for a second before laughing quietly. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am always serious about selfmade free food.” Buck snorted. Hen pointed toward the box. “You don’t know what’s in there.” she said. “She’s a nurse.” Buck said. Hen immediately looked at him. “Which somehow makes it worse.”

Buck opened his mouth. Then closed it again. “…Okay, fair.” he said. 

Hen’s expression softened slightly after a moment. “But,” she added, “we could also be completely wrong.” Buck’s gaze wandered back to Hen, who was standing right in front of him. 

“She just survived a fire,” Hen continued. “People get attached after traumatic stuff like that. Especially when someone saves their life.” Hen explained. Buck nodded slowly. “She might just be overwhelmed,” Hen said with a shrug. “And maybe we’re overthinking the whole thing.”

That eased some of the tension in Buck’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he muttered quietly. “Maybe…” 

There was another silence, which was abruptly disturbed by Chimney’s voice, “If nobody wants the pastries, I’ll take them!” 

Hen immediately leaned over the railing, “Don’t eat the possibly poisoned muffins!” she called back. 

A pause. “…That somehow made me want one more,” Chim yelled back. 

Buck laughed despite himself, shaking his head while carrying the bakery box toward the trash. But even then, something still lingered in the back of his mind. The questions. The looks.

______

A week passed after the apartment building call. Shifts moved on the way it always did. Calls came in, shifts blurred together, and slowly the story of the visit of Sierra faded away. 

Maybe they really had been overthinking the whole thing.

By the end of shift on tuesday night, Buck found himself wandering through a grocery store a few blocks from their apartment, pushing a cart with one hand while reading a crumpled grocery list in the other.

The list itself was a mess, half of it had been written by (Y/n) and the other half had clearly been added by Buck afterward. “Why is oat milk underlined three times?” Buck muttered to himself while grabbing a bag of pasta from a shelf, and tossed the item into the cart.

He crossed it off the list with the pen that was tucked behind his ear. A few more things left, and then he’d be on his way home. He turned into the next aisle, stopping in front of the shelves with milk. He scanned the shelves with his eyes, searching for the oatmilk that had been underlined three times. His eyes wandered back to his list, as he fidgeted the pen between his fingers.  

“Buck?” The voice caught him off guard enough that he looked up immediately. A woman stood a few feet away holding a basket in one hand. Light blue scrubs beneath a jacket.

Sierra.

For a second, surprise crossed his face. “Oh,” Buck said. “Hey.” 

Sierra smiled softly. “Hi.” Buck glanced around briefly before looking back at her. “You doing okay?” he asked, just being kind. “I’m doing better,” she answered quietly. “A lot better.” she added, and nodded as her eyes never left Buck.  “That’s good” Buck nodded politely.

For a second, none of them spoke. Then Sierra looked toward the grocery cart. “Shopping after shift?” she asked. Buck looked down at the cart and laughed softly through his nose. “Unfortunately.” 

Her eyes flicked toward the grocery list in his hand, “You actually make lists?” she asked, kinda surprised. “Some of us are trying to be responsible adults.” Buck said, while adding a soft laugh. 

Sierra smiled faintly at that. Buck crossed another item off the list before looking back at her. “Thought you lived closer to downtown.” Buck pointed out. 

“I do,” Sierra answered easily. “Well… did.” she added. Buck’s expression shifted slightly with realization. Right. The fire.

“My building’s gone,” she added quietly. “So… i’ve been staying with a friend for now.” she explained her situation. Buck nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sierra shrugged lightly like it didn’t matter much “Could’ve been worse.” she said. Another silence took over the conversation for a brief second. “You live around here?” Sierra asked then, changing the subject.

Buck nodded, “Couple blocks over.” he said. “With your girlfriend?” she asked. Buck glanced at her briefly before nodding. “Yeah.”

Sierra hummed softly like she was storing the information away somewhere in her mind. “She seems nice.” she then said. Which was weird because the other day she acted like she didn’t want her there. 

Buck nodded again, “Yeah, she is..” he said softly. 

Something unreadable flickered across her expression before the smile returned. The conversation should’ve ended there. But it didn’t.

Sierra kept walking beside him through the aisles while he grabbed groceries and crossed items off the list one by one. Every question somehow became a little more personal than the last.

What shifts he worked. How often he was home. Whether he ever got tired of the job. Whether (Y/n) worried when he worked nights. Buck answered politely at first, maybe a bit vaguely on purpose. But slowly that same uncomfortable feeling from the firehouse returned.

It wasn’t enough to call her out, but it was just enough to make him uneasy. Finally, near the registers, Buck slowed his cart to a stop. “Well,” he said awkwardly, holding up the grocery list slightly. “Looks like I survived the list.” he continued with an awkward laugh. 

Sierra smiled softly. “Guess that means your girlfriend will be happy.” she said. Buck snorted quietly. “That depends entirely on whether I remembered everything.” Buck said more to himself than to Sierra.

A small silence settled between them.

“It was nice seeing you again, Buck.” Sierra then said, to break the silence. Something about the way she said his name made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Yeah,” he answered carefully. “You too.” he said, just to be kind. 

Sierra turned on her heels, and Buck watched her walk away through the store before finally letting out a quiet breath. Weird. Just weird.

Two nights later, (Y/n)’s phone started ringing somewhere beside the bed. (Y/n) groaned softly, still half asleep as the sound cut through the dark room for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

Beside her, Buck’s arm rested heavily around her waist. She opened one eye and looked over her shoulder toward the screen on the nightstand that was lighting up the dark room now. 

Annoyance immediately settled in her chest. With a tired sigh, she pushed Buck’s arm off her carefully before rolling toward the nightstand.

The second she grabbed the phone, the ringing stopped, the call ended. (Y/n) stared at the screen for a second in disbelief. Unknown Number. Again.

Behind her, Buck lifted his head slightly from the pillow, still half asleep. “…Again?” he mumbled tiredly. (Y/n) let out a sigh and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand with frustration before crawling back against his chest. “Yeah.” she groaned.

Buck wrapped an arm loosely around her again while she stared up at the ceiling. The room stayed quiet for a moment. “You think it’s the same person?” Buck asked quietly. 

(Y/n) hesitated, “I don’t know.”

But both of them were thinking about the same person. But none of them said her name out loud. Buck pressed a tired kiss against the top of her head before letting his eyes close again. “Block the number tomorrow.” Buck advised her. “It’s always a different number.” (Y/n) told him. Like she hadn’t already tried to block the number. 

That made Buck open his eyes slightly again. “…Okay, that’s creepy.” he said. (Y/n) let out a quiet breath through her nose “Tell me about it.” she sighed. But even after Buck fell asleep again, she stayed awake for a while longer staring into the darkness.

Listening, waiting for the phone to ring again.

By the fourth day, the calls had become impossible to ignore. (Y/n) stood beside the truck wiping down the side mirror with a rag when her phone rang again. Unknown Number. She stared at the screen for a second before answering with visible annoyance. “…Hello?”

Silence. (Y/n) closed her eyes briefly “You seriously need to get a hobby.” she said annoyed. Nothing, not even breathing this time. It was just silence. Her jaw tightened. “Okay, you know what? This stopped being funny days ago.” she continued. 

And that’s when the line disconnected, and a beep sounded into her ear. She groaned loudly over the station floors. “Well,” a voice nearby said, “that sounded healthy.” (Y/n) looked over to see Chimney walking over carrying a medical bag.

She shoved her phone back into her pocket with a sigh. “Unknown caller.” she said as she pressed the rag against the side mirror roughly. 

“The same one?” Chimney asked. (Y/n) nodded, “Yep” she said. Chim frowned slightly. “Still not saying anything?” 

She sighed, “Nope. Just calls me five times a day like a complete psycho.” she said as she faced Chimney. “That’s reassuring.” he said, his brows furrowed. 

(Y/n) leaned against the truck tiredly. “Buck thinks it’s probably spam.” Chim immediately snorted. “Buck also thought he could sue the city and come back to work, welcomed with open arms.” 

“…Fair point.” 

Chim’s expression softened slightly after a moment, “You actually okay?” he asked, genuinely worried. (Y/n) hesitated briefly before shrugging. “It’s just annoying.” she said, fidgeting the rag between her hands.

But Chim noticed the uncertainty in her voice immediately “You don’t sound convinced.” he pointed out. (Y/n) looked down for a moment before lowering her voice slightly. “You remember that girl Buck rescued? Sierra?”

Chim’s expression shifted instantly, “The pastry girl?” he double checked. (Y/n) nodded slowly. “She gives me a weird feeling.”

Before Chim could answer, footsteps sounded nearby. Hen walked past the truck carrying a clipboard before stopping when she noticed the tension. “What happened?” Hen asked. 

Chim gestured toward (Y/n) “Mysterious stalker calls.” Chimney simply explained. Hen’s expression flattened immediately. “…Tell me you’re joking.”

(Y/n) sighed quietly, “We don’t know if it’s connected.” she said. Hen looked between them for a second, “You seriously need to tell Athena.” Hen said. 

(Y/n) let out a quiet breath through her nose, “You guys are making this sound way worse than it probably is.” Hen crossed her arms immediately. “Because it is worse.”

Chim nodded slightly beside her. “Silent calls from rotating numbers isn’t normal.” (Y/n) looked down to the floor, she knew that they were right. But still, there could be numerous other people doing this. 

“Maybe it’s just some bored teenager.” (Y/n) pointed out. “Maybe,” Hen agreed carefully. “But maybe it isn’t.” she shrugged her shoulders. 

That shut the conversation down for a moment, the station suddenly felt strangely quiet around them. Then the front door opened. Buck walked back inside carrying two paper bags from the convenience store across the street.

The second he noticed the expressions on their faces, he slowed slightly. “…Why do you all look like somebody died?” Buck said, stopping in his tracks. “Nobody died,” Chim answered.

Hen pointed toward (Y/n) “Your girlfriend has a stalker.” Buck blinked once, “What?” (Y/n) groaned immediately. “Okay, can we not call it that? Please?”

Buck walked over quickly, setting the bags down on the truck bumper. “Wait, what happened?” he asked. Buck knew she was being called in the middle of the night now and then, but not that it was ten times a day. 

“She got more calls,” Chim explained. Buck’s expression shifted immediately toward concern as he looked back at her. “How many today?” Buck asked, looking at his girlfriend. She shrugged, arms folded looking into the distance before meeting his eyes, “Like three.” she answered.

“Four,” Chim corrected. Buck frowned “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Because you were literally across the street for ten minutes.”

Before Buck could answer, Hen suddenly went still. Her eyes narrowed slightly toward something behind them. “…Uh.”

The others looked at her, confused. Then Hen slowly pointed toward the windshield of the firetruck. A single white envelope sat tucked beneath the wiper blade. Nobody had noticed it before.

Buck frowned immediately and walked over, pulling it free carefully. No stamp. No name. Just plain white paper. A strange feeling took over in (Y/n)’s stomach. “Okay,” Chim muttered quietly. “Now I officially hate this.” 

Buck opened the envelope slowly. Inside was a photograph. Buck and (Y/n) together, taken outside their apartment building.

Neither of them had noticed the picture being taken, it was like a paparazzi picture. Across the bottom of the photo, written in neat handwriting: He deserves better.

Buck turned the picture to the group, and silence dropped heavily. (Y/n) felt her stomach turn. “Oh my god” Hen said. (Y/n) placed a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes for a second as she realized what was happening. Chimney placed his hands on his hips and sighed while Buck’s expression darkened instantly.

Buck didn’t respond right away, his eyes were scanning the parking lot now, sharp and alert. “Okay,” he said finally, voice low. “That’s it.”

He looked between Hen and Chim. “We’re not guessing anymore.” Buck said, determined as he let his eyes wander to (Y/n). 

Hen nodded immediately. “Good.” Chim swallowed. “Great. Awesome. Love that for us.” Buck was already pulling out his phone, “We’re calling Athena.” he said and held his phone to his ear.

Not much later officers arrived at the firehouse. And by the time Athena arrived, the envelope had already been bagged and tagged. She didn’t waste time. 

“This is targeted,” Athena said after a long look at the photo. “Someone is watching your routines.” she concluded. Buck sighed, “That’s obvious,” Buck muttered.

Athena shot him a look “What isn’t obvious is how.” she shot back. That shut him up. (Y/n) crossed her arms slightly. “So what do we do?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“We document everything,” Athena said immediately. “Every call. Every encounter. Every physical sign.” she added. Athena looked between them, “And you don’t ignore anything anymore.”

The first new sign showed up two days later. (Y/n) found it on her way out to her car, she stepped out the front door of the apartment building they lived in. She held her car keys in her hand and clicked the button to unlock the car, and that’s when she stopped dead in her tracks.

Buck caught up with her, repositioning the strap of his bag on his shoulder, “What?” he asked, and then he followed her gaze. Her eyes dropped slowly, across the hood of her car, written in thin, uneven letters: HE DOESN’T DESERVE YOU

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat again. Buck’s entire expression changed instantly “Oh no,” he said quietly. He stepped forward, scanning the parking lot. Nothing, just an empty street.

(Y/n) stepped closer to the car, voice quieter now. “Buck…” she almost sounded scared. “I know,” he said immediately. He pulled out his phone. “We’re not waiting anymore.” he said. And with those words he called Athena once again. 

And that wasn’t the only thing that happened. 

Flowers arrived the day after, in the evening, after their shift. Someone knocked on their door. Buck looked up from the couch while (Y/n) disappeared into the kitchen.

“I got it,” he called, and pushed himself off the couch. He opened the door to find a delivery guy standing there holding a large bouquet wrapped in paper.

“Delivery for (Y/n),” the man said politely. Buck frowned slightly at the gift “Uh…” he mumbled. He didn’t remember ordering her flowers… 

Behind him, (Y/n) walked into view. “Flowers?” she asked in surprise. The delivery driver handed over the card attached to the bouquet. No name. No message. Just her name written neatly across the front. He frowned. 

(Y/n) reached for the flowers automatically. Then Buck suddenly grabbed her wrist gently before she could touch them. She looked at him in confusion. Buck’s expression had changed completely, he realized what was in front of him. 

“What?” she asked, confused. Buck stared at the bouquet another second before slowly looking back at her. “Those are lilies.” he said. 

(Y/n)’s face paled slightly, she was allergic to lilies. It wasn’t enough to kill her, but bad enough to send her to the hospital.

The delivery driver shifted awkwardly at the doorway. “Uh… should I take those back?” he asked. “No, it’s okay.” Buck said and took the bouquet carefully himself, keeping it away from her. The man nodded and left. 

The second the door shut again, silence filled the apartment. (Y/n) stared at Buck, and Buck stared at the flowers “Okay,” he muttered quietly. “No. We’re done pretending this isn’t serious.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms tightly over herself. “You think it’s her.” she said. At this point it wasn’t even a question anymore. But there wasn’t proof of her doing this. Buck looked sick just thinking about it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “But whoever this is knows things they shouldn’t.” 

Her phone number, their apartment, even her allergy. And that last one made Buck feel physically ill. (Y/n) sat down slowly on the couch. “We should tell Athena again,” she said.

Buck nodded immediately. “Yeah. Now.”

The morning after, Buck stepped out of the apartment building, ready to pick up an extra shift. Coffee in one hand. Keys in the other.

He didn’t notice her car at first, then he did and stopped so hard it felt like the world did too. “…No.”

All four tires were slashed. Clean cuts. Deep. Intentional. Buck set his coffee down without thinking and immediately pulled out his phone.

“Grant,” came the voice of Athena Grant on the first ring. “Crime scene,” Buck said quickly. “My car. Or… her car. (Y/n)’s. All four tires are slashed.” he explained shortly.

Then Athena, instantly sharper “Buck, where are you?” she asked. Buck gave the location of their apartment building. “I’m close,” she said immediately. “Don’t touch anything. I’m calling it in.”

“You’re not-” he couldn’t even finish his sentence or he got cut off by Athena. “I’m already three blocks out.” she cut in, and the  line went dead.

Less than three minutes later, sirens arrived in the parking lot. Police vehicles pulled in and immediately began securing the area with tape. An officer stepped forward, holding out a hand.

“Sir, you need to step back behind the tape.” the officer said. Buck nodded once, already doing it. “It’s my girlfriend’s car,” he said. “I’m the one who called it in.” he explained. The officer barely looked at him. “Then you can speak to us after we secure the scene.”

Behind Buck, another cruiser door opened. “Officer,” came a familiar female voice. Athena walked in calmly, badge visible, expression controlled. But firm in a way that made people straighten without realizing it.

The officer turned “Sergeant Grant.” he said, like he was surprised. “This is my scene now.” she said. “Ma’am, we’ve already-” She raised her hand slightly. “I said,” Athena repeated “this is my scene now.” 

The officer stepped aside immediately, and Athena walked past the tape like it wasn’t even there, eyes already scanning the vehicle. “How long ago?” she asked.

“I found out just now,” Buck answered, Athena nodded once, already pulling her phone out. “Then we treat it like it happened minutes before you stepped outside.”

She looked toward the officers. “I want full perimeter expansion. Door-to-door canvassing. Check cameras from the last twelve hours.” she commanded, and the officers moved instantly.

Athena turned back to Buck. Her eyes softened slightly, but only for a second. “Don’t touch anything else,” she said. “And call your girlfriend. Tell her to stay upstairs.” Buck nodded and did what Athena told him to do.

He held his phone to his ear as it rang, before she could even say anything he talked. “Hey, don’t come down. Stay inside.” he said. “…Buck, what’s going on?” she asked. 

He looked at the car again, people who were taking pictures of the tires. “Just stay upstairs,” he repeated quietly.

“Buck..” she said with a warning tone. “Please, stay upstairs.” he said. There was a moment of silence, “okay…” she then said. 

But (Y/n) appeared at the stairs less than a minute later. Hoodie half on. Hair messy. Eyes focussed on the scene in front of her. “What the hell happened?” she asked immediately. Buck exhaled through his nose. “You were supposed to stay upstairs.” he said. 

“I couldn’t just-” she stopped mid-sentence when she saw the car. “Oh my God.” she gasped. An officer stepped forward quickly. “Ma’am, you need to stay behind the tape.” He held out his hand to keep her behind the tape. 

“That’s my car,” she said instantly, voice tight. “That’s mine.” she added, looking in horror at her car. “I understand, but we’re conducting an investigation.” 

“Officer,” Athena’s voice cut through cleanly, the officer turned. Athena stepped closer, “She is the victim’s partner,” Athena said evenly. “And I will decide who I need near this scene.”

“She stays,” Athena added. “Behind the tape. With us.” she continued. The officer stepped aside immediately. The officer held the tape up for (Y/n) to enter the sealed off area. (Y/n) walked forward slowly now, Buck at her side.

She stopped in front of the car. All four tires were destroyed. “This isn’t random anymore.” she said quietly. Buck nodded once. “No.”

Athena watched both of them for a moment, expression tightening slightly. “Good,” she said finally. “Because from here on out, we treat it like it’s targeted.”

______

It was supposed to be a short shift. Buck kept telling himself as he finally clocked out and stepped outside the door of the firehouse. Half a shift. Nothing major. No big calls. No chaos. Just enough to feel normal again. 

He was driving with both hands tight on the wheel, jaw clenched, trying not to replay the things that had happened day after day. He kept telling himself it was contained now. Athena was on it, (Y/n) was safe in their apartment and that is what mattered.

His phone lit up in the phone holder that was attached to his dashboard. (Y/n) calling. Buck didn’t hesitate. He picked up immediately, and his voice softened. “Hey, babe?” he greeted her. 

His stomach turned as soon as silence took over the call. A breath sounded through the phone. Oh, this wasn’t good. Everything in him shifted in an instant.

“…Hello?” he tried again, voice sharpening slightly. Something was wrong. A soft laugh came through the line and Buck went still. “Sierra,” he said quietly.

On the other end, “I like hearing you say my name.” she said, sounding almost pleased. Buck swallowed hard, foot easing off the gas pedal as his grip tightened around the steering wheel. “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “Where is (Y/n)?” he asked. 

Another pause. Then Sierra sighed like he was being dramatic, “You know, you always go straight to the point... It’s kind of cute.” she said. Buck’s knuckles whitened on the wheel. “Stop talking. Tell me where she is.”

“You’re not very polite for someone in your position.” she chuckled softly. Buck pulled the car onto the shoulder hard, hazard lights flashing as the world outside blurred into motionless distance. “Listen to me,” he said, voice low now. Controlled, but shaking at the edges. “If you touch her-”

“Oh, Buck…” Sierra interrupted him, laughing softly almost amused. “Touched her? That sounds so… aggressive.” 

“I didn’t have to touch her.” she continued after a beat. 

Buck’s breath caught. The silence that followed was sharp enough to hurt.

“You know what’s funny?” she said. “You always look so confident when you’re saving people.” Sierra continued. 

Buck didn’t respond.

“But when it’s her…” she tilted her voice slightly, teasing now, “you sound different.”

“Stop.” Buck said, harsher this time. “Why?” Sierra asked. “You don’t like hearing the truth?” she added playfully. 

Buck’s hand slammed lightly against the steering wheel. “Where is she.” He murmured. 

For a moment neither of them said anything. Then Sierra exhaled softly, “She looks so peaceful when she sleeps.” 

Everything in Buck froze. His voice dropped dangerously quiet. “If you’re anywhere near her…”

“I’m always near her,” Sierra said, like it was obvious. “You should’ve seen your face this morning, Buck.” she continued. 

That’s when Buck’s blood ran cold “This morning?” he repeated.

A small hum of satisfaction came through the line. “When you saw the car,” she clarified. “You get so serious when you’re scared.” 

Buck’s jaw tightened so hard it hurt. “That wasn’t fear,” he said.

Sierra laughed softly “No?” she teased. “It looked like fear.” Buck forced air into his lungs, eyes scanning the empty road ahead like it might give him answers. “Listen to me,” he said again, lower now. “If you’re doing this to get my attention, it’s not going to work.”

A pause. Then Sierra’s voice softened in something almost disappointed. “I already have your attention.”

Silence stretched “You always pick up when I call.” She continued. “Shut up,” Buck snapped.

A soft sigh “You’re stressed,” she said again, almost fondly. “You should go home.” Sierra added, something shifted in her tone at the end.

Buck went still, she didn’t sound playful anymore. Still calm… but wrong. Buck straightened slightly. “…What did you do?”

Sierra didn’t answer immediately. “She’s really beautiful, you know.” she said quietly. Buck’s grip tightened violently. “I swear to God…”

A pause.

“When she’s not awake to argue with you.” she went on. 

Buck didn’t think, he clicked on the red button and he ended the call. Without a second thought, Buck’s car engine roared to life again and raced home. 

Then he reached for his phone, clicking Hen’s contact immediately, while he runs countless of red lights. 

“Buck?” Hen’s voice sounded concerned as she picked up on the second ring. 

His voice came out tight, controlled only by force. “It’s Sierra. She used (Y/n)’s phone.” 

A beat of silence.

“What? Slow down. Where are you?” Hen’s voice sharpened instantly. 

“I’m on my way home right now.” he said quickly, eyes fixated on the road. “Hen, I need you to call Athena. Now. Something is wrong. I mean… really wrong.”

“Buck pull over,” Hen says immediately. “Stay on the line with me. You’re not going in there alone.” she continued.

Buck swallows hard, eyes locked on the road. “Hen, I don’t have time to-” before he could finish that sentence, Hen cut in. “Buck,” her voice firmer now. “Listen to me. If she’s in that house, you need backup.”

Then Buck exhaled sharply, and lifts his foot off the gas slightly. “…Fine,” he said. He knew she was right. 

He signals, and the car started to slow down. Hen continues, voice steady but urgent. “Good. Stay with me. I’m calling Athena right now. Just stay on the line.” 

Buck nods once even though she can’t see him. “Okay,” 

A second passes.

His phone screen started to flicker. Buck frowned at the device. “What..?” He mumbled underneath his breath. And before Hen could switch lines again, his phone went black and didn’t turn on again. 

“No, no, no!” Buck said as he tried to turn the phone back on. But nothing else appeared but a red battery and a cable, telling him his phone was empty. 

Buck reaches for the charger cable that was already plugged into the usb port of the car. He grabbed the cable and put it into the port of the phone. We waited a second, on the side of the road like Hen told him to. 

“Fuck this shit.” Buck mumbled under his breath and continued his chaotic drive home. He drove onto the parking lot of the apartment building, didn’t even bother to put his car in a parking space, and jumped out of the car. 

Buck opened the front door of the building and ran up the stairs. Footsteps sounded against the concrete stairs, echoing through the building. 

Each step up felt heavier than the last. She’s fine. She has to be fine. Buck thought. Sierra was messing with him the entire time. She didn’t dare to hurt (Y/n), right? 

Their apartment front door came into view. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, and then he reached for the handle before putting his key into the lock. 

He pushed down the handle, unlocked.

His stomach dropped instantly. “No,” he whispered to himself. He pushed inside. The apartment was still, almost peaceful.

He scanned the apartment. The kitchen light was on, dishes were washed and there was a mug on the kitchen table.

But nothing about it felt right.

“(Y/n)?” Buck called through the apartment, voice breaking slightly now. “(Y/n) talk to me!” but there was an ear deafening silence in the apartment, which made him move faster. 

He checked the kitchen. Empty. 

The living room, empty. 

The bedroom, also empty.

Bathroom? Empty.

His breathing started to fracture. “No, no, no..” he whispered, his hand through his hair 

Then he saw the living room again, but this time he stepped closer. And that’s when his heart dropped. 

(Y/n) was lying unconscious on the floor. Buck dropped instantly beside her. “(Y/n)!” Buck’s hands were still shaking when he pulled (Y/n) closer to him.

“Hey! hey, come on,” he whispered, voice cracking now. “Stay with me. Please.” he cried. Her head lolled slightly as he supported her, completely unresponsive. The sight of the IV puncture on her arm made his stomach twist violently.

“No, no, no…” he muttered under his breath, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Behind him, the apartment was too quiet. The silence made his skin crawl. He kept his focus on her, tapping her cheek gently again. “(Y/n). Hey. Come on. Look at me.”

No reaction. 

His breathing sped up. “Okay,” he said shakily, more to himself now. “Okay, just.. just breathe. I’m here.” he said. Placing his fingers against her neck, checking her pulse. 

“Baby, please..” he said as he frantically searched his pockets for his phone.. which he later realized he left in his car. 

A small sound made him turn around, and within a blink of an eye something sharp pressed into the side of his neck. His body reacted instantly, his hand flying up to grab her wrist… but it was already too late.

“What- what did you..?” he started, voice suddenly thick. 

“You’re going to be okay,” she said quietly.

Sierra didn’t move away. Buck’s grip weakened almost immediately around her wrist. And his vision blurred.

“No..” he forced out, but his words already sounded distant to him, seconds later his knees buckled and Buck hit the floor beside (Y/n), trying to crawl toward her.

His hand reached out, brushing her fingers. “(Y/n)…” he whispered, voice fading. His eyelids grew heavy.

Sierra stepped into his view, completely blurred for his vision, but looking down at him calmly “She looks better like this” she said softly.

Buck tried to respond, tried to fight it. But the apartment tilted and everything went dark.

He should’ve listened to Hen.

______

Buck’s ears were ringing and there was a deep pounding behind Buck’s eyes that made every sound feel sharp and distant all at once. He groaned softly as consciousness dragged him awake beneath harsh fluorescent lights.

The more he blinked, the clearer his vision became. His eyes scanned the room, concrete walls, metal trays and then his eyes found her. (Y/n). 

Buck wanted to move towards her, but the moment he tried to move, he noticed a burning ache in his wrists as he tried to jerk his hand free. Panic rushing through his veins immediately, as he realized he was tied to a chair. “Hey,” he rasped out. “Hey (Y/n).” he needed her to respond, show some kind of life. But she didn’t move. 

She was lying motionless on a narrow table across from him, in her bra, with monitor leads attached to her chest, an IV running into her arm while the heart monitor beside her beeped steadily into the silence.

Alive. Thank God.

“Come on,” Buck said louder now. “Baby, wake up.” he groaned loudly. 

“She can’t hear you.” A familiar voice sounded through the room. Buck froze, as he followed the sound of her voice. Sierra stepped into view, still wearing pale blue scrubs beneath her jacket. Still calm, like none of this was wrong.

“Sierra.”

She smiled faintly at the sound of her name, “You always sound angry when you say it.” she said, almost teasing. 

“What the hell is this? What do you want from me?” Buck snapped. Sierra tilted her head slightly. “You know what I want.” she smiled. 

“No,” Buck shot back immediately. “No, I actually don’t, because normal people don’t kidnap couples.” he added. Something dark flickered behind Sierra’s eyes as he said those words. “I’m trying to help you.” she tried to convince him. 

Buck stared at her in disbelief, “By drugging my girlfriend?” he asked. “She makes you smaller.” she said. That caught him off guard for half a second. Sierra stepped closer slowly. “You give people everything, Buck,” she said softly. “You let them take and take until there’s nothing left of you.”

Buck’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know anything about us.” Buck shot back. “I know she gets the version of you nobody else does…” Sierra said, coming closer to him. “And I’m supposed to be grateful for scraps?” she continued. 

Buck actually laughed once at that, he let out a harsh, disbelieving sound. “You built an entire fantasy in your head because I saved your life.” Buck said. Sierra’s expression shifted instantly. “You did save my life.” 

“That doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” Buck reacted, and that reaction made her face hardened. “You owe me honesty.” 

Buck looked toward (Y/n) again, then back at Sierra. “You need help.” Buck shot back, looking Sierra in the eyes as he said that. The words landed badly, Sierra was now walking back towards the table. She grabbed a syringe from the tray beside her.

Buck immediately tensed, regretting the things he said. He made things worse for (Y/n). “No…” 

“Adenosine,” she said softly, “It pauses the heart.” she added as she looked at the syringe in her hand. 

Buck felt cold panic flood his chest as he saw her take the air out of the syringe “Sierra, don’t-” he tried to stop her. “But I know how to bring people back, I’m a nurse after all…” she continued. 

Buck couldn’t stop her, she pushed the medication into the IV. The monitor changed rhythm after three seconds or so. Buck stopped breathing. (Y/n)’s chest stopped moving. “Sierra!” Buck shouted violently, struggling hard enough for the chair legs to scrape across the concrete. “Bring her back!”

Sierra calmly watched him unravel, and smiled faintly. “You really do love her.” she said, leaning with her palms onto the table. 

“Please!” he cried, his voice cracked apart completely.

For the first time, Sierra looked satisfied. “You know what I want.” she said, turning away to pick up the paddles slowly. 

Buck shook his head immediately, “No” he said determinedly. She sighed, “You could make this so much easier.” 

Buck’s voice was low, “You don’t get to decide who I love. And it’s not you.” he said. Sierra looked away from him, and smiled at the sight of the table. “Okay… then watch her die.” she said, simply and was ready to walk away. 

“Okay!” he shouted instantly. “Okay! fine!” Sierra paused in her steps. Buck swallowed hard against the panic crushing his chest, “I’ll do what you want.” he said desperately. “Just bring her back.” he begged her. 

For a second, Sierra stared at him. Searching his face, and then she smiled softly. “Now you’re listening.”

She clicked the button to charge the paddles, grabbed the paddles again and pressed them against (Y/n)’s chest. “Clear.” she said.

The shock jolted through her body sharply, and three seconds later her heartbeat was restored. Buck let out a breath in relief.

“You lied.” Sierra said. Buck looked up sharply, in fear. “What?” 

“You said what I wanted to hear,” she murmured softly. “But you still looked at her first.” she continued. Buck’s stomach dropped again. Before he could speak again, Sierra grabbed the syringe once more. “No! Wait!" Buck almost screamed. 

Without a second thought, she injected the adenosine again. The monitor screamed flatline for the second time. Buck felt something inside him completely snap “You’re killing her!” he cried. 

“She’s in the way!” Sierra shouted back suddenly, emotion finally breaking through her calm mask “You would’ve chosen me if she didn’t exist!” she added. 

Buck stared at her in horror, “No,” he said immediately. “I could never.” That hit harder than he expected. Sierra’s breathing turned uneven “You don’t mean that.” she said. 

“I do.” Buck said dead serious.

“No you don’t.”

Buck looked at (Y/n)’s motionless body, and then back at Sierra. “You let her walk out of here alive,” he said shakily, “and I swear to God I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Sierra hesitated, just long enough for hope to appear. Then she reached for the charge button and clicked it, and grabbed the paddles again. “Clear.” she said, one more time and the shock hit her body.

(Y/n)’s body jerked again, and then the heartbeat was restored again. But only, this time, consciousness returned with it. Pain crashed through (Y/n)’s chest and lungs as air forced back into her body.

But she stayed still, eyes closed while she was breathing shallow. Listening to the conversation in the room. Sierra placed the paddles on the table next to (Y/n)’s body. She could feel the paddles being dropped next to her arm. 

Sierra didn’t notice the tiniest twitch of her fingers. But Buck did. Sierra turned away from the table again, attention locking back onto Buck.

“You know what your problem is?” she asked quietly. Buck kept her attention immediately. “You.” Buck answered her question. But Sierra ignored that. “You think loving someone means destroying yourself for them.” she said, making her way over to Buck.

“That’s not what this is.” Buck said. “She doesn’t deserve you.” Sierra almost sounded like she’s convincing him that (Y/n) is somehow the bad guy here. Buck almost laughed at how insane this was. “You don’t even know her.” 

“I know she’s standing between us.” Sierra said, crouching down in front of Buck. Buck laughed, “There is no us.” Buck told her. And she couldn’t have it. Something in Sierra snapped again.

She stood up straight again, walked back to the table and grabbed the syringe violently this time. “Maybe you need another reminder.” Sierra said, and was ready to grab the IV to inject the adenosine. But before she could do that, (Y/n)’s eyes flew open and she swung the paddle hard into the side of Sierra’s head.

A crack echoed through the room. Sierra collapsed instantly onto the concrete floor unconscious. “Bitch” (Y/n) groaned as she let go of the paddle in her hand. “(Y/n)!” Buck’s voice sounded through the room. 

Her breathing turned ragged as she ripped the monitor leads off her chest with trembling hands. The IV came next, and she hissed sharply pulling it free. “Easy… easy,” Buck said quickly, panic and relief crashing together in his voice. “Hey, slow down.” he said as (Y/n) slid herself off the table too fast. 

The second her feet touched the floor, her legs buckled completely beneath her. She hit her knees hard with a gasp and a groan. Buck’s stomach dropped, “Hey!” Buck said, trying to get her attention. 

“I’m okay,” she breathed, sounding like she had just ran a marathon. She wasn’t okay. She had just been almost killed, twice. Still, she forced herself forward anyway. One hand, then another. Dragging herself across the concrete toward him.

Buck’s eyes burned instantly. “Baby, stop,” he said helplessly, fighting the ropes again. “You don’t have to do that.” he added. “Yes,” she breathed weakly. “I do.” Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself forward again, and then her arms gave out beneath her, suddenly collapsing completely.

“(Y/n)!” He called out, and at the exact same moment the door burst open. “LAPD!” Officers stormed inside with weapons raised while voices echoed sharply through the room. Athena and Hen following them. 

Athena took in the room in one horrifying glance “Jesus Christ.” she mumbled. Hen saw (Y/n) collapse and moved instantly “Oh my God, move!” She dropped beside her, carefully flipping her onto her back. “Hey, hey, stay with me,” Hen said quickly, checking her pulse while paramedics rushed in behind her.

An officer cut through the ropes around Buck’s wrists, the second he was free, Buck stumbled forward so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to her. He dropped beside (Y/n). “Hey,” he breathed shakily, brushing hair away from her face. “Hey, I’m here.”

(Y/n)’s vision blurred badly now, lights smeared together overhead. Voices echoed strangely around her. But through all of it, she could still see Buck leaning over her.

______

The hospital hallway was quiet. Most of the lights had been dimmed during the night. 

Buck walked slowly through one of the hallways, with one hand wrapped around the IV pole beside him that drove with him with squeaky wheels. 

A nurse had told him twice already that he was supposed to stay in bed. He nodded politely, but then left anyway. Because the second he’d woken up alone in that room, panic had taken over his chest, like it had before when he was tied to that chair. He needed to see her, he needed to see for himself that she was really okay.

Buck slowed when he reached another door, his eyes searched for the nameplate beside the door. (Y/n).

He let out a slow breath and looked both ways to see if no one had caught him yet. Then, he quietly opened the door. 

The hospital room was dim except for the faint morning light beginning to spill through the large window. Night was slowly fading away while the blue sky took over the darkness. They’d been here for hours now.

(Y/n) sat awake in bed, staring silently out the window like she’d been watching the sunrise happen one minute at a time. Her attention shifted at the sound of the door opening. The second she saw him, confusion crossed her face. “…Buck?”

Buck closed the door gently behind him, “Hey,” he said softly. 

(Y/n)’s eyes scanned him quickly. He was in a hospital gown, his wrists were bruised, he had an IV line and held a pole beside him. Her brow furrowed deeper as she realized he was a patient too. “What are you doing here?” she asked quietly. “Did you just break out of your room?”

Buck slowly walked closer. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” he said lightly. “I prefer the term temporarily relocated.” he added. That almost put a smile on her face… almost. Buck reached the side of her bed and stopped there.

For a second neither of them spoke.

“How’re you feeling?” he finally asked softly. (Y/n) leaned her head back against the pillow slightly, “A little better,” she admitted “Still terrible.” she added. 

Buck nodded immediately “Yeah…” He looked down for a second, “It’s not weird that you’re feeling like this.” he continued. 

(Y/n)’s eyes wandered back toward him, Buck hesitated for a moment “Since she almost killed you twice.” he added.

The room went still and (Y/n) stared at him. “…Twice?” she managed to say. Buck’s face shifted instantly, nobody had told her what happened. She looked genuinely shocked now “She stopped my heart twice?” she asked quietly.

Buck nodded once, “With adenosine.” he continued. (Y/n) blinked hard, and for a second she just stared ahead blankly, trying to process it. “Oh my God…” she whispered. 

Buck rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck, and silence settled heavily between them.

(Y/n)’s fingers curled tighter into the blanket over her lap, Buck placed one hand on her leg, silently telling her he was there for her. “She…” Her voice caught slightly. “I remember parts of it.” 

Buck stayed quiet, as he listened. “I remember waking up,” she whispered. “I couldn’t move properly.” Her eyes lowered. “And I remember hearing you.” she added, her eyes locked onto her hands as she tried to remember. Buck swallowed hard as she tried to dig deeper. 

“You were yelling.” she said. His jaw tightened immediately. (Y/n)’s eyes looked glassy now. “I’ve never heard you sound like that before.” she continued. 

Buck looked away briefly toward the window, “I was scared.” he admitted. The honesty in his voice broke something open in her expression. Her breathing turned shaky suddenly as emotion caught up all at once. “I thought I was dying,” she admitted quietly, voice cracking at the edges. “And I couldn’t even move.” she said, her voice on the edge like she was bursting out in tears. 

Buck stepped closer instantly, “Hey.” he said, trying to get her attention, to stop her from spiraling. “I tried,” she whispered. “I remember trying to move and my body just… wouldn’t listen.” she went on, and tears finally spilled over before she could stop them.

Buck’s chest tightened painfully at the sight, “You don’t have to think about that right now,” he said softly. “But I do,” she whispered back. “Because every time I close my eyes I can still hear the monitor.”

Buck looked wrecked hearing that, and it wasn’t like the sound of the flatline didn’t play in the back of his head either. 

He carefully sat down in the chair beside her bed. “When I found you in the apartment…” His voice lowered. “I thought I was already too late.” he said, one hand still on the IV pole next to him, knuckles whitening at the thought of him holding her in his arms completely lifeless. 

(Y/n) looked up at him immediately, “You were unconscious…” he admitted quietly. “And the IV mark in your arm.” Buck didn’t even manage to look at her while he said those things. All he could do is just stare into the distance in front of him. 

“Hen told me to stay outside,” Buck continued. “Athena was on the way, but I couldn’t.” he said, shaking his head as he remembered the picture of her lying in his arms. His eyes met hers now, “I needed to know if you were okay.” His voice was breaking. 

That finally broke her completely, a shaky breath left her mouth as she covered her mouth briefly with her hand, tears slipping faster now. Buck reached for her immediately without even thinking about it. His fingers wrapped gently around hers.

“She wanted you,” (Y/n) whispered after a moment, Buck exhaled slowly “Yeah.”

“What did she say?” she asked him. Buck hesitated for a second to answer the question. “She thought if you were gone…” He swallowed once. “I’d choose her.” he said quietly. 

(Y/n)’s eyes shut briefly “I knew it,” she whispered. Buck frowned softly. “The first day she came to the firehouse,” she said shakily. “The way she looked at you…” Her eyes opened again. “it was like she’d already decided you belonged to her.”

Buck remembered the moment on the loft instantly. The tension he felt, the awkwardness… 

“I should’ve done something about it sooner.” he admitted quietly. “No…” (Y/n) shook her head immediately. “No, Buck, you couldn’t have known she was a psy-” before she could finish, Buck cut her off. 

“She drugged you in our apartment.” Buck said, the anger underneath his voice finally slipped through. “She kidnapped you.” His eyes dropped briefly “And she stopped your heart while I sat there tied to a chair unable to do anything.” Buck said, tears burning in his eyes as he shook his head. 

“You did everything you could.” she said, trying to convince him he couldn’t have done anything better. Buck laughed once quietly, humorless “I literally agreed to go with her.” he said, letting his back fall against the back of the chair 

“No, you lied to save me.” (Y/n) corrected him. “I still said it.” Buck said. (Y/n) stared at him for a second before squeezing his hand tighter. “She was never going to let either of us walk out of there okay,” she whispered. “And you know that.”

Buck didn’t answer, because deep down, he did know that she was right. 

Silence settled again, and after a long moment, (Y/n) looked at him through watery eyes and quietly asked, “Did I really hit her with the paddle?” 

That surprised him and brought out a small laugh out of him, “You absolutely did.” (Y/n) looked mildly horrified. Buck shook his head slightly. “No seriously… you have a terrifying right hook, apparently.”

A weak laugh escaped her through the tears. Buck smiled as he finally heard her laugh for a quick second. “She never saw it coming.” he added. “Neither did I” 

The room quieted again, it was just the two of them now, holding each other's hands as they sat in silence. 

Then the door opened gently and Athena stepped inside. Her eyes immediately landed on Buck and then she blinked in confusion, “…Why are you out of your room?” she asked. 

“I got lonely.” Buck said, looking all innocent. Athena pointed toward the IV pole beside him. “You are attached to hospital equipment.” she noticed. “Minor inconvenience.”

Athena sighed tiredly before looking toward (Y/n), “How’re you holding up?” Athena asked. (Y/n) wiped her face for a second, “Still processing.”

Athena nodded slightly “That’s normal.” She stepped further into the room, expression softening. “She’s in custody,” Athena said calmly. “And before either of you ask… she’s alive. Cops already have her downstairs.”

Buck frowned slightly, “What happened?” he asked. “Concussion,” Athena answered simply. “Courtesy of this one.” She pointed lightly toward (Y/n). (Y/n) looked faintly embarrassed.

Athena’s expression softened just a little more. “She’ll be charged with kidnapping, attempted murder, assault…” Athena shook her head slightly. “Honestly the list keeps growing.” she said. “She’s not getting near either of you again,” Athena added firmly.

(Y/n) let out a slow breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

Buck leaned back slightly in his chair beside the bed, exhaustion finally starting to settle into his face now that everything had stopped moving.

For a moment, the room stayed quiet.

Then Buck looked back at Athena “Thank you,” he said honestly. (Y/n) nodded faintly beside him, “For finding us,” she added quietly.

Athena looked at both of them for a second longer. Something softer flickered across her expression and then she gave a small nod. Athena pointed lightly toward both of them. “Get some rest,” she said firmly. “Both of you.” she pointed between the two of them. 

And with those words, she left the room again. When the door clicked shut behind her. Silence settled softly once more.

(Y/n) looked down at their joined hands, emotions still too close to the surface. Buck saw it instantly. Without saying anything, he carefully stood and leaned down toward her, slowly. 

Giving her time to pull away if she wanted. She didn’t. The second his arms wrapped around her shoulders, she broke completely. 

A shaky breath left her as she buried herself against his chest. Buck held her carefully, one arm around her shoulders while the other steadied himself against the mattress beside her. His chin rested gently on top of her head “It’s okay,” he whispered softly.

Buck closed his eyes briefly and pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head “I’ve got you,”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Eddie crouched down and scratched him behind his ears, the familiar greeting easing some of the weight in his shoulders. “Missed me?” Eddie smiled as he watched the dog happily huffed in response. 

Scout’s service vest sat snug against his fur, the fabric slightly worn from constant use. The dog leaned into the touch for a brief second, warm and familiar, before his attention shifted, ears twitching as he glanced toward the living room.

Eddie noticed immediately. “Yeah,” he said softly, giving him one last pat. “I know. You’ve got a job to do.” he said. 

He gave him one last pat before heading toward the kitchen, rolling his neck as the stiffness of the last twenty-four hours settled in. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off as he leaned against the counter for a second.

Then his eyes drifted toward the living room. (Y/n) was curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, the TV playing quietly in the background. She hadn’t moved since he walked in.

Eddie frowned slightly at the sight, he walked over and crouched down in front of her, resting his forearms on his knees. “Hey.” he whispered, placing his hand softly onto the side of her head. 

With tired eyes, she looked up at him, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey.” she whispered back. 

Up close, he could see the faint flush in her cheeks and the exhausted look in her eyes. “You look wiped,” he said quietly. And before she could answer, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

Then he moved the hand that was just onto the side of her head, towards her forehead where he gently pressed the back of his hand against it.  “Hey,” she murmured, swatting weakly at his arm. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Checking if you’re cooking,” Eddie said. In moments like this the paramedic side of him came up. His brow furrowed slightly at the feeling, she wasn’t burning up, but still she didn’t look well. “You don’t look great,” he added. “You sick?” he asked. 

“Just tired,” she muttered, shifting underneath the blanket, pulling it more over her body. Eddie studied her for another second before sitting back on his heels. “You been here all day?” he asked then. 

“Mostly.” (Y/n) answered. Scout was settled beside her on the couch, resting his head against her leg as if he already knew she wasn’t feeling well.

Eddie twisted the cap back onto his water bottle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey… uh. I meant to tell you something.” he said. 

Something in his tone made her look at him more closely. “What?” she asked, while she remained in the exact same position she had been since he walked in. 

He hesitated for a moment. Was this the best moment to tell her? Probably not. Did he try to push back this moment the entire day? Definitely. Was she going to be mad? For sure.

“I picked up another shift tomorrow.” He admitted, the words hung in the air for a second before she blinked at him. She pushed herself up in an instant, now sitting on the couch with the blanket half over her body. “You what?”

“Bobby needed someone to cover,” Eddie explained quickly. “Hen’s got something going on and Chim already worked overtime last week, so..” 

“Eddie…” (Y/n) whined as she sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “You promised tomorrow was your day off.” she continued as she let her eyes wander towards his now. 

His shoulders tensed slightly. “I know.” he said, placing his hands onto his hips. “We had plans.” (Y/n) went on. “We can still do it another day.” Eddie answered as he let a hand brush through his hair to get rid of the strands in front of his face. 

She let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Another day.” she reacted, rolling her eyes. Maybe it was her exhaustion speaking, but the reaction she just gave, rubbed Eddie the wrong way. Eddie frowned at her words, “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“It means,” she started, while folding her arms “you’ve been saying that for the past three weeks.” she continued. 

He held up one of his hands, “Okay, that’s not fair.” he said, while shaking his head. “Oh really?” 

“I’m trying to help out my team,” Eddie shot back. “And I’m trying to spend time with my boyfriend,” she replied, frustration creeping into her voice.

For a moment they just stared at each other across the room. Eddie sighed, rubbing his temple. “You know how this job is, you know where you signed up for.” Eddie said sharply.

(Y/n) shook her head at the words that fell out of his mouth, not even looking at him. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I do.”

The fever creeping up underneath her skin made everything feel heavier than it should. “You could’ve at least told me earlier,” she added. “Instead of just walking in and dropping it on me like it doesn’t matter what I think.” she continued.

“I literally just found out this afternoon.” Eddie answered, trying to keep calm. But he could just feel that this was going the wrong way already. 

“You still could’ve called.” She said, her eyes locking with his, again. “I was working.” The tone of Eddie’s voice sounded more annoyed.  “And you think I wasn’t waiting for you to come home?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened at her words, he looked down at the floor. “Look,” he said tiredly, “I’m exhausted. Can we just not do this tonight?” he sighed. 

Her chest tightened. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Fine.” 

Silence settled between them. After a moment, Eddie shook his head and made his way out of the living room. “I’ve got to be up at five anyway,” he mumbled as he grabbed his duffle and headed down the hallway.

(Y/n) sank back against the couch cushions, the room spinning faintly as the fever pulsed behind her eyes. “Goodnight, Eddie.” she sighed. Even though she hated him right here, right now… it didn’t feel right for her to end things like that. 

He paused in the hallway for a second as he heard her soft voice say that. “…Night.” And a moment later the bedroom door closed softly. The dog lifted his head beside her, watching her carefully. “It’s okay Scout, we’re gonna be alright.” she said softly, and gave him a small pat on his head. 

-

Eddie’s alarm buzzed softly at five in the morning, just like he said the night before. With his tired eyes slightly opened, he groaned under his breath and reached over to silence it. He let himself fall onto his back and for a moment he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, the heaviness of another early shift already settling into his bones.

Then he turned his head to his left, (Y/n) was asleep beside him. At some point during the night she must have come to bed. She was curled onto her side, half-buried under the blankets, her breathing slow. A faint flush still colored her cheeks, her hair a bit damp where it clung to her forehead.

Eddie frowned slightly.He pushed himself up onto one elbow and reached over, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, even though he knew she wouldn’t wake.

Eddie reached out, carefully pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. He frowned at the feeling. “…You’re warm,” he murmured hesitatingly. She hadn’t been the night before. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed. “Great,” he continued to mutter under his breath.

She stirred faintly but didn’t wake, shifting deeper into the pillow.

For a moment Eddie considered waking her… asking if she needed anything, maybe apologizing for the argument the night before. But when he looked at her again, she looked exhausted. So he let it go, he’d apologize when he’d got back tonight. 

He slipped quietly out of bed and grabbed his clothes from the chair, pulling his shirt on as he stepped into the hallway.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Not like Eddie was used to. 

Christopher’s laughter wasn’t echoing down the hall, no video game sounds drifting from the living room. Chris had gone to stay at Aunt Pepa’s for the night, something Eddie had arranged earlier in the week when he realized his schedule was getting messy again.

He figured it was better than dragging Chris through another unpredictable shift change. As Eddie moved toward the kitchen, a familiar shape lifted its head from the living room floor.

The golden retriever watched him carefully. “Morning, buddy,” Eddie said quietly. But, the dog didn’t wag his tail like usual. Instead, he stood up slowly and padded past Eddie toward the bedroom, pausing in the hallway like he was checking something.

Eddie glanced after him, “You guarding the sick one, hm?” he said softly as he watched Scout disappear into the bedroom without a sound.

Eddie shrugged it off and grabbed his keys from the counter, taking one last sip of water before heading toward the door. He hesitated for just a second, should he… apologize now? 

Then he looked down the hallway toward the bedroom again, thinking about how (Y/n) was asleep, and felt warm when he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. He shook his head, “…We’ll talk tonight,” he murmured to the empty house. Silently telling himself to let her sleep.

With that, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Inside the bedroom, the dog settled on the floor, beside the bed. Scout’s head rested near (Y/n)’s arm, eyes watching her carefully. A faint whine escaped him as her breathing hitched slightly in her sleep. 

Outside, the first pale light of morning crept slowly across the street. And somewhere in the distance, a car door slammed as Eddie stepped into his car, ready to take another shift.

Minutes later, (Y/n) woke slowly. At first it was just the fever, that heavy, suffocating warmth wrapped around her body, the kind that made every muscle ache. Her head throbbed behind her eyes, and when she tried to shift in the bed, the room tilted slightly.

A quiet whine pulled her out of the fog. She blinked. The golden retriever was sitting beside the bed, ears slightly back, watching her closely. “Hey,” she mumbled hoarsely, as her vision became more clear by every blink.

Her throat felt raw. The dog nudged his nose against the edge of the mattress, tail barely moving. “I’m okay,” she whispered, though it came out more like a croak.

She pushed herself up slowly, pressing a hand against her forehead as a wave of dizziness rolled through her. God… she felt awful. And she was never the one to say that so fast. 

Her eyes drifted toward the bedside table, searching for her phone. But in the middle of her reaching for her phone, she froze as a sound from somewhere in the house shook her. 

For a moment she told herself it was nothing and looked at the time on her phone. 

05:46 AM 

Maybe Eddie forgot something. Maybe he came back. But Eddie would’ve said something. Or maybe not… maybe he’d try and be quiet because she was asleep when he left. 

“Eddie?” she said weakly, placing one elbow underneath her body so she could lean on it. She pushed herself up as she focussed on the sound. Scout was on his feet now, his body had gone rigid, his ears were forward as he stared toward the hallway.

Another sound followed, a soft thud. It sounded like a drawer closing. Her heart skipped as she realized that she wasn’t imagining things. The dog let out a low warning growl and (Y/n)’s pulse started to pound in her ears as she pushed the blankets aside and slowly slid her feet onto the floor.

The room spun immediately as she sat up. “Easy,” she whispered to herself, gripping the edge of the mattress to steady herself. The dog stepped closer to her, pressing gently against her leg as if trying to keep her still.

Another noise echoed from the kitchen. Metal clinking softly through the house. Someone was definitely in the house, and it wasn’t Eddie.

Her stomach dropped. “Okay…” she breathed shakily, only audible for herself. Her hand fumbled for the phone on the nightstand, the screen lit up as she grabbed it. Her thumb hovered over Eddie’s name.

The dog’s growl deepened suddenly, footsteps were coming down the hallway. Her breath caught in her throat. “Shit,” she whispered.

The dog moved in front of her now, body squared toward the door, every muscle tense. (Y/n)’s chest tightened as the fever and fear twisted together in her stomach. The hallway floor creaked and a shadow under the bedroom door shifted.

Someone was right outside. 

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, the shadow under the bedroom door stopped. She held her breath, waiting for the shadow to shift. The shadow hovered for a moment at the door, but then moved away. 

The dog stiffened, low growl rumbling in his chest as the shadow disappeared. She let out her breath, softly as her pulse slammed against her ribs. Her fingers fumbled for her phone. She quickly dialed 9-1-1, hoping the dispatcher’s voice wouldn’t give her away. But the moment she had the phone against her ear, she second guessed her choice. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher on the other side of the phone spoke. 

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She could barely form a whisper, fear clamped her jaw shut as she realized the shadow coming back her way. Without a second thought or saying anything, she ended the call. One sound from the dispatcher would alert him.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t go anywhere, she was afraid to move, and she was definitely not calling anyone. She looked frantically around, but then the doorknob rattled violently. She didn’t think twice and she hung up the call with the emergency services.

Not a second later, the door creaked open. (Y/n) didn’t move. For a moment, she hoped it was Eddie. That he had forgotten something, come back, would call her name any second now.

But the man who stepped into the bedroom wasn’t Eddie. He stopped when he saw her. Just as surprised as she was. Silence stretched between them, thin and fragile.

Then it shattered. He moved fast, too fast for her to react. His hand closed around her arm and shoved her back hard. Her head struck the wall, sending an echo through her skull. Pain burst behind her eyes, sharp and immediate, her vision swimming as black spots flickered at the edges.

A breath caught in her throat, somewhere between a gasp and a cry, but it never fully came out. Before she could recover, before she could even think, something cold pressed against her side.

She froze and her eyes dropped. A knife.

Her heartbeat stuttered, then raced, slamming violently against her ribs. Slowly, she looked back up at him.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said, voice low, strained, like he didn’t quite know what to do with her now that she was. That was the first thing she noticed. He wasn’t calm. He wasn’t in control. His grip on the knife wavered, just slightly.

Behind him, Scout growled. A low, steady sound that filled the room, warning and protective all at once.

(Y/n)’s breathing came too fast, too shallow. Her head throbbed where it had hit the wall, the dull ache already spreading, mixing with the heat of the fever still burning through her body.

Think. She had to think.

Her fingers pressed flat against the wall behind her, searching blindly. Anything, something… He shifted closer, trying to keep her pinned. That was his mistake.

She moved. Her hand shot up, grabbing his wrist that was holding the knife, and slammed it hard against the wall. The blade scraped uselessly against it, nowhere near her now.

He tried to pull back, but she held on, using every bit of strength she had left, even as her arms trembled from the effort. She twisted sharply, forcing his arm away from her body, slipping out from under him just enough.

And then she ran out of the bedroom. 

Her bare feet hit the hallway floor unevenly, her body swaying as dizziness hit her like a wave. The world tilted, her balance gone, her hand dragging along the wall to keep herself upright.

Her shoulder knocked into something, a picture frame, sending it crashing to the floor behind her. Too loud. Everything felt too loud.

She grabbed her phone blindly from the dresser as she passed, nearly dropping it as her fingers slipped.

She shouldn’t have hung up. God, she shouldn’t have hung up. She needed help.

Her steps faltered.

The hallway stretched in front of her, longer than it should have been, her vision blurring at the edges. She reached for the wall again, then the edge of a table but it shifted under her grip, something falling, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

She couldn’t walk straight. Her body wouldn’t cooperate. Behind her there were footsteps approaching fast.

A hand grabbed her from behind and shoved her forward, she slammed into the bookshelf.

The impact rattled through her shoulder, pain flaring sharply as the entire thing shook. Books toppled, crashing down around her, hitting the floor in heavy, uneven thuds. Before she could even turn his fist struck her across the face.

Her head snapped to the side, the force sending her down instantly. Her hands hit the floor first, then her knees, the impact jarring through her arms as the breath was knocked from her lungs.

For a second, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think.

Scout barked sharp and furious and then he was there, lunging forward, placing himself between them. Teeth snapped, catching onto something… fabric, maybe more.

The man shouted, stumbling back, trying to shake him off. “Get off!” 

The sound snapped her back. Move. She had to move.

Her hands slipped against the floor as she forced herself up, her arms shaking, her body unsteady beneath her. The world spun violently, her head pounding with every movement, but she pushed through it.

Kitchen. Closest exit.

She stumbled toward it, half-walking, half-falling, one hand dragging along the wall to keep herself upright. She reached the counter and grabbed onto it, her fingers tightening as she gasped for air, her ribs protesting with every breath.

Behind her sounded a high-pitched yelp.

Scout.

The sound cut through her like a blade. “No-” she tried to say, but her voice barely came out. 

Her hand slipped into the sink, knocking into dishes. Plates clattered loudly, the noise echoing too sharply in the quiet house. She turned just as he came at her again.

There was no time to think. She grabbed the first thing her hand touched, which was a plate and swung it hard.

It shattered against him. For a second, everything stilled. He looked at her. And something in his expression changed. Frustration and anger burned in his eyes. 

(Y/n)’s breath hitched, instinct told her to run, to move, but her body lagged behind her mind. His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair. Pain exploded across her scalp, sharp and immediate. She cried out as he yanked her backward and slammed her down onto the kitchen floor.

The impact knocked the air from her lungs completely. Her head hit hard, the world flashing white for a split second before dissolving into a blur, sound dulled.

Suddenly everything felt distant.

Scout barked frantically, as he rushed to her side, placing himself between her and the man, low growls vibrating through the room. The man stepped back, breathing hard, looking around at the destruction in the house. The broken glass, the overturned furniture, the chaos he hadn’t expected. “…Not worth it,” he muttered.

And then he turned and ran. The front door slammed and silence followed.

(Y/n) lay where he had left her. Her body didn’t respond when she tried to move. Her fingers twitched weakly against the floor. Her vision blurred, darkening at the edges.

Scout nudged her urgently, whining softly, his nose pressing against her arm. Then it started. That familiar, terrifying shift beneath her skin. Her muscles tightened. Locked. Then jerked violently.

Her body convulsed against the floor as the seizure took hold of her body completely. Scout moved instantly, nudging her onto her side, staying close, pressing against her to keep her steady.

A soft, distressed whine escaped him. He stayed for a moment, and then ran across the room to the wall where he pressed the panic button. 

He rushed back immediately, pressing close to her again, watching, guarding, waiting. The house was destroyed.

And in the middle of it, was (Y/n), seizing on the kitchen floor.

______

The fire was out.

Smoke still curled from the windows of the apartment building, but the worst of it was over. The night air smelled like ash and burned wood as the team moved around the engine, packing equipment back into place.

Eddie slid the halligan back into its compartment and shut the door with a metallic clang. His turnout coat felt heavier than usual, soaked with sweat and smoke. He reached up, pulling off his helmet. 

For a moment he just stood there, pushing a hand through his damp hair before setting the helmet carefully into its slot on the truck. He let out a slow breath, glancing back at the building they had just saved.

Behind him, voices carried.

Buck leaned against the truck, shaking his head with a half-laugh. “I’m just saying! If you think you can carry a full flatscreen down a fire escape during a fire, maybe natural selection should take over.” he said.

Bobby huffed a quiet laugh, arms crossed. “People panic, Buck. And when they do, they don’t think straight.”

“Yeah, well, that guy almost took out three floors of railing,” Buck said, pushing himself off from leaning against the truck and putting his helmet into the right compartment. 

Eddie glanced over, faintly part of the conversation, but not fully. His attention drifted as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

The screen lit up, and his brow furrowed immediately. A notification flashed across the screen. 

Emergency Alert – Service Animal Activation

For a second his brain didn’t fully process it. Then it did. “What the hell…?” Eddie muttered quietly. 

The dog’s alert system, Scout must've activated the panic button. His stomach dropped. He straightened instantly, looking toward Bobby. “Hey, Cap-” but before Eddie could finish his sentence, the radio on everyone’s shoulder crackled loudly. 

“Dispatch to one eighteen.” The conversation they were having went quiet immediately. Bobby grabbed the radio that was attached to his shoulder. “One eighteen, go ahead.”

“One eighteen, we’ve received a panic button activation at 4995 South Bedford Street. We also received a previous 911 call from the residence that was disconnected.”

Eddie felt the blood drain from his face as the address sounded through the radio. Buck’s head turned sharply toward him. “…Eddie,” he said slowly. “Isn’t that-” 

Eddie didn’t answer right away, he didn’t have to. His phone was still in his hand, the alert glowing on the screen. “That’s my house.” Eddie said. 

Silence hit for half a second, then everything moved. “Everybody on the truck. Now,” Bobby ordered, already turning.

Compartment doors were slammed shut, and boots hit pavement as they climbed in. Julie and Thomas moved quickly to the ambulance. 

Eddie barely remembered getting into the truck. His chest felt tight, too tight.

His phone was still in his hand. Same alert.

Sirens roared to life.

And as the engine pulled away, Eddie’s grip tightened on the phone in his hand. “Come on…” he muttered under his breath.

Beside him, Buck didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t joke, didn’t fill the silence. He just sat there. Watching Eddie. This wasn’t just another call.

The sirens cut through the quiet of the morning.

Commuters were just starting to fill the streets, sunlight stretching across windshields and pavement. 

Eddie sat rigid, his back pressed against the seat, one hand gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His foot bounced rapidly against the floor, restless, uncontrollable.

“Come on…” he muttered under his breath, the ride towards his house was only three minutes from where they were. But somehow it felt like three days, weeks or even years. 

Outside, the city passed by in flashes of morning life. People walking, cars slowing for the sirens, someone standing at a crosswalk with a coffee in hand.

Normal. Everything looked normal.

But it wasn’t. Not for him.

His thoughts spiraled, (Y/n) on the couch, her voice, tired. The argument… the way he left it. “You look wiped” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut briefly, jaw tightening at the way he relived the night before. “Not now,” he whispered to himself. 

But the thoughts didn’t stop. What if she tried to call him? What if she needed him? What if…

His grip tightened again around the phone. Beside him, Buck sat unusually quiet. His eyes flicked toward Eddie once, then back ahead, giving him space but staying close, just incase he needed him.

Up front, Bobby’s focus stayed on the road. Eddie’s head snapped up as he realized the truck slowed down. His street.

Morning light spilled across it, quiet, almost peaceful, like nothing was going on. His house came into view. And something in his chest dropped. The truck hadn’t even fully come to a halt before Eddie was moving.

He shoved the door open and jumped down, boots hitting pavement hard. The air was cooler than he expected. “Eddie!” Buck called after him, but Bobby didn’t stop him.

Eddie was already running towards the front door. Closed. No visible movement. No sound. His stomach twisted. He had no keys. They were back at the station, in his locker like always. 

“Halligan!” Bobby called, already moving up behind him. Buck passed it forward quickly.

But Eddie didn’t wait. Not this time. Before Buck could hand over the halligan, Eddie planted his boot hard against the door, feeling the wood shudder. Pain shot through his leg as he kicked again, stronger this time, until the lock splintered.

The door opened with a heavy bang. Bobby and Buck exchanged a quick glance. Eddie didn’t need a Halligan. Eddie didn’t hesitate, he needed to know what was happening.

Eddie stepped inside, “(Y/n)!” his voice echoed through the house, sharp and desperate. “(Y/n)!” he called out. He called out before he realized what his house looked like. 

The sight of the house made him stop. The house was wrecked. Taking in the state of his house, he took a step forward. He immediately stopped, and lifted his foot as glass crunched underneath his boots. 

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “What the hell happened?” he breathed, more to himself than anyone else.

Boots moved past him, voices calling out as the team cleared rooms. But it all sounded distant. For Eddie his world has just stopped moving, as if someone had clicked the pause button. 

But he didn’t have any time to process. A bark got him back to reality. Sharp and urgent. Eddie’s head snapped toward the kitchen. “Scout?” he called out, he was moving before the thought even finished.

He moved through the dining area, through the doorframe that led to the kitchen. And then everything narrowed.

(Y/n) was on the floor. Her body jerked violently against the hardwood, uncontrollable, her limbs moving in sharp, erratic motions. Blood streaked down from her temple, dried and fresh, smeared across her cheek and the floor beneath her.

For a second Eddie couldn’t breathe. “No.. no, no, no!” he cried. He dropped to his knees beside her, hands hovering, not knowing where to touch, how to help. “Seizure!” he shouted, voice breaking.

Scout was pressed tightly against her side, one paw braced gently against her, keeping her from rolling. His body was tense, protective, eyes flicking to Eddie as if saying I did what I could. Eddie swallowed hard, reaching out, his hand brushing the dog’s neck. “You did good,” he said, voice shaking. “You did so good, buddy…”

Scout leaned into him for half a second, but didn’t leave her. He refused to leave her. “Julie, Thomas!” Bobby’s voice cut through as they rushed in. Eddie forced himself back, even though everything in him screamed not to.

Julie dropped beside (Y/n), hands already moving with practiced precision. “She’s still actively seizing,” she said quickly. “We need to stop this now.”

“Pulse is rapid,” Thomas added, while he moved his hand from her neck to her forehead, “She’s burning up, high fever.”

Eddie’s eyes flicked back to the blood on her face. “What happened to her head?” he asked, his voice tight, almost unsteady. Bobby was standing behind Eddie now, placing a light hand onto his shoulder, to offer silent support.

“Likely trauma,” Julie answered briefly, already focused on treatment. Her eyes stayed on (Y/n) as another wave of convulsions rolled through her body.

“She’s still seizing,” Thomas said, tension creeping into his voice. Julie didn’t hesitate. “Get me Midazolam,” she instructed, firm and clear. “We’re not waiting.”

Thomas was already reaching for the kit. “On it.”

Eddie swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on her. The way her body wouldn’t stop, the way her breathing hitched between movements.

“Administering,” Thomas said. Julie supported (Y/n)’s head as the dose was given. “Alright… come on,” she murmured under her breath, eyes tracking every movement, every change.

They waited, seconds stretched. And then finally the violent jerking began to slow, subtle at first, then more noticeably.

“There we go,” Thomas said quietly. “Good,” Julie nodded. “Let’s move. We’re transporting.” She shifted immediately into the next steps. “C-collar,” she ordered. “Given the head impact, we’re not taking chances.” Thomas nodded, reaching for the collar.

“Let’s get her on the stretcher careful with her head,” Julie continued, already coordinating the lift.

Eddie hovered just outside their space, watching every move, every word, like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Bobby’s hand was still on his shoulder. “She’s in good hands,” Bobby said quietly. Eddie didn’t take his eyes off her. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. But he didn’t sound convinced. “I know..”

They moved as soon as she was on a gurney. As they reached the ambulance, Eddie hesitated for half a second, his eyes flicking back toward the house. Toward Scout. The dog stood in the doorway now, watching, ears back, body tense. Eddie’s chest tightened at the sight. “Scout..” he breathed. 

“I’ve got him,” Buck said firmly, stepping up beside him, one hand resting on the strap which held his radio. Eddie looked at him, and Buck nodded once, reassuring him that it was okay. “Go. We’ll take care of him.”

Eddie nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay… okay.”  It was all he could manage to get out of his mouth. Then he turned back. She was already being loaded into the ambulance as Eddie climbed in right after, and the doors slammed shut behind him. 

Inside, everything felt too small. Too loud. Too fast.

Julie was already working on (Y/n) while Thomas was in the driver’s seat, making sure they were at the hospital as soon as possible. 

So many things were happening. Voices. Movement. Equipment.

But Eddie had his eyes fixated on her. He moved closer, reaching for her hand, gripping it carefully. Almost like if he held on tight enough, she wouldn’t slip away. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking now, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have left like that..” he choked on his own words. 

His thumb brushed over her hand, desperate, grounding. “Just… stay with me, okay?” 

_

Eddie had lost count of how many cups of coffee he’d had. At this point, he had stopped counting and it had stopped being about staying awake.

Now it was just something to do with his hands. The paper cup sat half-empty between his hands, now lukewarm like the others before it. The waiting room lights buzzed faintly overhead, too bright for the hour it was. Too bright for how long he’d been sitting there.

Time didn’t feel real anymore. Every time the doors opened, his head snapped up, only to drop again when it wasn’t for him.

“Eddie.” a familiar voice sounded, bringing him back, once again, to reality. He looked up, and he noticed Athena stood in front of him. “Athena,” he said, straightening slightly. “Hey.” he tried to gather himself back together.

She studied him for a moment. Taking in the exhaustion, the tension, the way he looked like he hadn’t taken a full breath in hours. “I just came from talking to officers at the scene,” she said, getting straight to it.

Eddie’s grip tightened slightly around the cup “what happened?” he asked, voice low. Athena exhaled quietly. “Looks like a burglary,” she said. “Guy broke in thinking the place was empty. No signs he expected anyone to be home.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened.

“She surprised him,” Athena continued. “From what we can piece together, he panicked and things escalated.”

Eddie looked down, the words settling heavy in his chest. “The house is torn apart,” she added. “There was a struggle. Your dog…” she paused briefly, a small nod following, “he did his job. There’s blood that doesn’t belong to her. We’ll run it, see who tried to-”

A flicker of something crossed Eddie’s face. Something like relief, pride, anger, all mixed up together. “He hurt her,” Eddie said quietly, cutting off Athena who was interrupted mid sentence. 

“Yeah,” she said. “He did.” she added. 

Silence took over the scene. Eddie stared at the floor, his mind filling in the gaps. The fear she must’ve felt in that moment while being alone in that house. 

“I was supposed to be there,” he said. The words came out before he could stop them. “I wasn’t even supposed to be on shift. I picked up an extra.” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “We had a fight. Stupid one. I told her I’d make it up to her and then I just… left.” he went on. 

He didn’t even know why he was spilling his guts to Athena at this point, but he couldn’t stop. But Athena didn’t interrupt him, she just listened to him.

“She was already sick,” he continued, voice tightening. “I knew that. I saw it. And I still walked out.” His grip tightened around the cup until it crumpled slightly in his hand. “And then this happens.” he continued and let out an exhale.

“I should’ve been there.” he said. Athena’s gaze stayed steady on him. “Eddie, you don’t know if you could’ve stopped it.” Athena said, trying to get him out of this spiral. 

Eddie shook his head. “I could’ve been there,” he repeated. “That’s the point.” The words hung heavy between them. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to push it all down, trying to breathe through it. 

Then, almost like he needed to get out of his own head, “How do you do it?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at her. “You and Bobby. It just… works.” he said.

Athena raised an eyebrow slightly. Eddie shook his head immediately, why did he just ask her that?  “Forget I asked,” he muttered. “That was… yeah. Not my business.”

A small, knowing smile touched her lips. “No,” she said gently. “It’s a fair question.” He met her eyes again, he didn’t look convinced.

“It’s not perfect,” she continued. “It’s work. Every day. We mess up. We miss things. We say the wrong things,” she said. “But we don’t walk away from it.” Her voice softened slightly. “You don’t get it right all the time, Eddie. You just show up. And when you don’t? You fix it.” 

Eddie swallowed hard, looking down again. “I don’t know if I get the chance to fix this,” he admitted.

Athena tilted her head slightly. “You don’t get to decide that for her.” she said, looking at Eddie while he rubbed a hand over his face for a second before looking back at Athena. 

The waiting room fell quiet again.

“Eddie Diaz?” a female voice sounded through the waiting room where he’d been for the past few hours. He looked up instantly. A nurse stood a few feet away. 

He was on his feet before she could say anything else. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s me.” he said. The nurse send him a small smile, “She’s awake, you can go see her.” she said. 

For a moment, everything else faded. Relief hit him hard, sharp and overwhelming. “Okay,” he said quickly, already moving. “Okay.” he repeated, not really knowing what to do, if she even wanted to see him. 

He glanced back at Athena once. She gave him a small nod, silently telling him to go. And this time, Eddie didn’t hesitate.

The walk down the hallway felt longer than it should have.

Eddie barely registered anything around him. The voices, the movement, the distant beeping of monitors. It all blurred together. She was awake, that was all that mattered to him at this point.

The nurse stopped in front of a door and pushed it open gently. “She’s right in here.” she said, Eddie nodded, but his feet didn’t follow right away. For a second, he just stood there. Then he stepped inside.

The room was dim, quiet in a way that almost didn’t feel real after everything that had happened. Machines hummed softly, steady and controlled, their rhythm filling the silence.

(Y/n) lay in the hospital bed, pale against the white sheets, her hair pushed back just enough to reveal the bandage near her hairline. Bruises had already begun to settle across her face, darkening the skin beneath her eye, along her cheekbone.

Her eyes shifted toward the door and when she saw him. Something in her face softened. Lit up, even through the exhaustion she felt. Like she hadn’t been sure he’d come.

It hit him harder than anything else so far. For a moment he just stood inside the room, hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders slightly tense, like stepping any closer would make all of it real in a way he wasn’t ready for yet.

The nurse who let Eddie in,  stood beside her, adjusting the IV, checking the monitor. “She’s doing well,” the nurse said gently, glancing at Eddie. “Vitals are stable. Just keep things calm.” she added, looking at (Y/n). 

(Y/n) nodded, “Yeah.” Eddie said, his voice came out quieter than usual. He stayed where he was while the nurse finished her check, his eyes never leaving (Y/n). Taking her in piece by piece, like he needed to memorize that she was here.

The nurse gave a small smile before stepping out, the door clicking softly shut behind her. And silence followed, Eddie exhaled slowly trying to break the silence as he moved forward.

Each step felt careful, measured, like the ground might give out beneath him if he rushed it. He reached the bedside, his hand hovering for a second before he let it settle over hers.

Her fingers curled around his almost instantly. “…Hey,” she said softly, her voice rough.

Eddie sent her a reassuring smile “Hey.” he said, sounding more like a whisper. For a moment, neither of them said anything. There was too much there. Too much that almost hadn’t been said at all.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie started, the words coming out low, automatic, like they’d been sitting on his tongue for hours. “About yesterday, about the fight… I shouldn’t have left like that, I should’ve..” he stopped talking as she interrupted him.

“Eddie.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it stopped him completely. He looked at her, really looked at her. “I’m okay,” she said gently, squeezing his hand softly. 

His jaw tightened and his grip on her hand shifted slightly, like he was holding on just a little tighter than before. “I should’ve been there,” he said anyway, quieter now, like the words were heavier the second time. “You were sick, I knew that, and I still left.”

(Y/n) shook her head, “Eddie, I knew what I was getting into.” she said almost immediately.  The words were soft, but they landed. Her thumb brushed lightly over the back of his hand, slow, grounding.

“When we started this,” she continued, her voice steady despite everything, “I knew your job doesn’t come with a schedule. I knew there’d be nights like that. Extra shifts. Calls you can’t ignore.”

Eddie looked down at their hands, his brows pulling together slightly. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he said quietly. 

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t.” she said, and left a small pause. “But it also doesn’t make it your fault.” 

The room felt still again.

Eddie let out a slow breath, like he didn’t quite know what to do with that. 

“He said I wasn’t supposed to be there,” she added after a moment, her voice softer now, more distant. “Like I messed up his plan just by… being home.”

Eddie’s head lifted immediately, something sharp flashing across his expression. “He hurt you,” he said, voice tight. Her gaze softened slightly. “Yeah,” she admitted quietly.

Silence stretched between them again.

“I thought…” Eddie started, then stopped. His throat worked slightly before he tried again. “When we got there.. when I saw the house…I thought I was too late.”

The words came out rough, barely held together. Her fingers tightened, once again, around his. “You weren't,” she said softly.

He shook his head slightly, like he was still stuck in that moment. “You weren’t moving,” he said, not even looking at her. “You were just..” He couldn’t finish it. 

Her expression shifted, something softer, more understanding. “I wasn’t alone,” she said quietly. Eddie frowned slightly. “Scout,” she clarified. Something in his chest loosened just a fraction. “He stayed,” she continued. “Kept me on my side… pressed that button. He did everything he was supposed to.”

Eddie let out a slow breath, his hand coming up briefly to drag across his face before settling back over hers. “Good dog,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” she said faintly. “The best.” she smiled. 

Another pause took over the conversation, longer this time. Eddie looked at her again, really looked this time. At the bruises, the bandage, the exhaustion in her eyes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” he started, then stopped, his voice catching slightly.

She squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to finish that,” she said gently. He nodded once, swallowing hard. She shifted slightly against the pillow, wincing just a little as the movement pulled at something sore.

A quiet breath escaped her. “Pretty sure I’m gonna have a bad ass scar though.” It was soft, almost careful. Eddie blinked, the shift catching him off guard.

“…Yeah?” he asked, a hint of something lighter finally breaking through. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Right here.” She tilted her head slightly, careful of the bandage. “Very dramatic.”

Eddie huffed out a quiet breath, something that might’ve been a laugh if it had more strength behind it. “You’ve already got enough character,” he said softly.

Her eyes stayed on him. Like none of this had changed that part. Eddie held her gaze for a long moment. “I love you.” he whispered. 

The words seemed to hang in the air between them, fragile and heavy.

“I love you.”

The words settled between them, quiet but certain.

(Y/n)’s breath caught slightly, her gaze softening as she looked at him. Eddie held her eyes for a second longer, like he was making sure she’d really heard him. Before something shifted in his expression. Not lighter, exactly… but steadier.

He glanced at the bed, then back at her. “…Scoot,” he murmured gently, nodding toward the small space beside her.

It wasn’t a question.

(Y/n) let out the faintest breath of a laugh. It was soft, tired, but real, as she shifted carefully, wincing just slightly as she made room for him. “Bossy,” she mumbled under her breath.

Eddie huffed quietly, already moving, one hand bracing against the mattress as he climbed in beside her with careful movements, making sure not to jostle her too much. 

“Come on, humor me” he shot back lightly, like that explained everything. Once he settled, he hesitated for just a second, like he wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to hold her.

His arm slid carefully around her, pulling her gently against his chest. (Y/n) didn’t hesitate.

She melted into him, her head resting just below his collarbone, her hand still loosely holding onto his shirt like she needed the anchor. Eddie exhaled slowly, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head.

His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading carefully through her hair, mindful of the bandage.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. (Y/n) shifted just slightly closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“You planning on manifesting a trauma by over-preparing?” Jamal, her partner asked her from the driver’s side of the rig. She huffed softly. “I like knowing what I have before I need it.”

Jamal grinned at her answer. He moved like someone who’d learned long ago how to stay calm under pressure.  He’d spend years as a Navy corpsman embedded with SEAL teams had taught him that much. He’d seen chaos up close, learned how to function inside it, and then walked away before it hollowed him out completely.

The tones dropped before he could reply.

“Ambulance 122, additional medical support. Engine 118 on scene.”

(Y/n)’s head lifted instantly. Jamal caught it. Of course he did. “That your sometimes-house?” he asked while he popped his head around the corner to sound more audible to her. She slid the clipboard into its place and climbed into the rig. “One of them.”

(Y/n) was one of the floater paramedics at the LAFD, she was moving between stations wherever she was needed. She’d never really felt called to any house, although there were a few houses she found herself returning to more often than others.

Lights cut on and the sirens followed. The drive was short. Too short to talk herself out of the flutter in her chest as they approached the scene. 

Engine 118’s lights painted the street in red and white, smoke was still curling from the blackened shell of what had once been a small apartment kitchen. Fire was still roaring inside the apartment building. 

(Y/n) stood beside the gurney with Jamal, gloved hands resting on the rail as they waited for orders. “Victim coming out,” someone called. She shifted automatically, eyes tracking the movement at the doorway as a firefighter emerged from the haze.

She stepped forward, professional instinct taking over. “We’ve got her,” she said, reaching for the patient without looking up. The firefighter carefully transferred the woman onto the gurney, movements controlled even though the obvious strain in his posture.

He reached up, took his helmet off and tore off his mask.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat.

Buck’s hair was damp with sweat, curls escaping where the helmet had pressed them flat. Soot streaked his face, a dark smudge along his cheekbone, smoke still clinging to him like a second skin. His chest rose and fell hard beneath the open turnout coat.

For a heartbeat, the noise around them faded. His eyes lifted and he found hers.

The look he gave her was quick, but something warm and grounding, like an anchor thrown without thinking. He gave her a silent nod, and maybe even a small smile.

Her world narrowed to the familiar lines of his face.

“(Y/n).” Jamal’s voice cut off her thoughts, sharp but calm. Her head snapped toward him. “Sorry,” she said automatically, and was already moving. “Check her vitals,” Jamal said, slipping his stethoscope into his ears as he leaned over the patient.

She nodded, hands steady now as she palpated for a pulse, counted respirations, checked oxygen saturation. Training smoothed over the moment like it had never happened at all.

Jamal listened carefully, brow furrowing. “Breath sounds are diminished on the right.” he concluded. “She was exposed to smoke for several minutes,” (Y/n) replied, voice even. “Let’s get her on oxygen.”

Behind her, Buck lingered for half a second longer, eyes still on her, before Bobby called his name. He turned back to his captain without another word.

The gurney rolled forward. Jamal guided it toward the rig, one hand steady on the rail. As they reached the back doors, he glanced at her — not questioning, not prying. Just acknowledging.

“Let’s bring her to First Presbyterian,” he said, already climbing in. (Y/n) locked the wheels of the gurney, took one last breath and closed the backdoors. While stepping into the driver’s seat, she glanced into the side-view mirror one last time, hoping to spot his face. But he wasn’t there anymore.

___

“Two minutes out!” she called towards the back where Jamal was treating the patient. “Copy that” Jamal replied while continuing his tasks.

The ambulance rolled to a stop right in front of the ER entrance. Within moments the back doors of the ambulance opened and Jamal wheeled the patient on the gurney while nurses gathered around. (Y/n) stepped out of the drivers side, and moved towards Jamal to assist whenever he needed her to. 

They drove the victim through the ER doors, and Jamal gave a smooth report as they moved. “Female, mid-thirties. Pulled from an apartment fire. Smoke inhalation, mild respiratory distress but stable during transport. Pulse is one-oh-two, BP is one-forty over ninety. Oxygen saturation ninety-four on high-flow O2.”

The nurses nodded, taking over as they wheeled the patient further down the hall. Jamal was already moving towards the nurses’ station to fill in paperwork. 

“Your turn.” Jamal said after a few moments of silence and hearing only the sound of a pen scratching against the paper. He was holding out the clipboard. (Y/n) sighed, this was most definitely the worst part of the job. Paperwork. Everyone hated it, so Jamal and (Y/n) made the deal to take turns on it.

Jamal rested his forearms on the counter beside her as she was filling out the form. “You know that firefighter,” he said as he scanned the waiting room of the hospital. (Y/n) kept her eyes on the paperwork. “Which one?” she asked. 

“The tall one who brought the patient out.” he added then. She finished the line she was writing before answering. “Hm, yeah. His name is Buck. Why?.” she asked as she just casually continued with the form. 

Jamal nodded once. “Buck,” he repeated, slowly. Like he knew there was something to it. 

A small beat of silence passed.

“You two a thing?” he asked. Just like that, (Y/n) stopped writing and huffed. softly under her breath. “Not exactly.” 

“That sounded like a yes with extra steps.” Jamal said, looking to his right, trying to make contact. She gave him a look. “We’ve gone out a few times.” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders and finishing the last sentence on the form.

Jamal tilted his head slightly, “Okay.” he said, and with that, he turned on his heels and left the nurses station. (Y/n) handed the form back to the nurse behind the station and followed her partner. “Wait, that’s it?” she asked.

He shrugged, “Hey, I’m not interrogating you.” His tone stayed easy. “Just keeping tabs.” he explained as she caught up to him, now walking next to him. She frowned faintly. “Tabs?”

“You’re my partner,” Jamal said simply. “Kind of my job to know who’s in your orbit.” (Y/n) snorted softly. “Partner for the day,” she corrected. “Let’s not get too attached, Morales.”

Jamal glanced at her, unimpressed. “Twenty-four hours is plenty of time to evaluate your life choices.”

(Y/n) blinked once, surprised by the straightforwardness of it. “Look, I’m not interested,” he added quickly, reading the thought before she could voice it. “Before your brain goes there.”

That earned a quiet laugh from her. “Good,” she said. “Because that would be awkward.” she laughed. “Extremely.” Jamal said. “But if this Buck guy ever turns out to be a problem,” he added, “I like to know what he looks like.”

(Y/n) shook her head, while they stopped walking and waited for their gurney to be returned. “Don’t worry. He’s not a problem.” she answered. 

“Good.” 

___

The fire engine pulled to a stop in the bay of the 118. The smell of diesel filled the air, mixed with sweat, a bit of smoke and antiseptic. Buck jumped down the engine, and was already tugging off his turnout coat, placing it onto the doorhandle of the engine. His hair was stuck up in damp curls, messy from the helmet and sweat. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to flatten it but only succeeding in making it curl in every direction.

Chimney was already in the kitchen, trying to continue the “perfect grilled cheese” he was about to make before the call came in. And Hen was laughing, carrying a stack of towels to the laundry room. Buck lingered by the engine after he got out of his full turnout geat. He was checking a piece of equipment, but his mind wasn’t on the routine task. “You’re staring.” A familiar voice cut through the haze of his mind.

Buck jerked his head up. Eddie leaned against the side of the truck, arms crossed, eyes sharp and knowing. “I’m not staring,” Buck said too quickly, forcing a casual shrug.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied and a small smirk appeared on his face. Buck shut the compartment door, hoping it would look like he had somewhere important to be. But Eddie was still leaned against the truck, and looking at him. “What?” Buck asked as he realized that Eddie was still there.

“That ambulance,” Eddie said, pushing himself off the truck and taking a step closer. A grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Buck froze, his chest beat a little faster than normal, but he tried to not let it show. “Uh, what about it?” 

“You didn’t even hear Bobby talking when it left the scene.” Eddie said, calm but pointed. “I did too,” Buck mumbled, though his stomach twisted.

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone sharpened, it was patient but firm. Buck rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up into his ears. “…Okay, you got me alright? Maybe… Maybe I was a little distracted.” he admitted.

Eddie’s smirk widened. “Was that your paramedic?” Buck hesitated, but he couldn’t lie to his best friend, “…She’s not my paramedic.” He hated how weak that sounded, even to himself.

“But…” Eddie pressed. Buck ran a hand through his hair again and sighed, “But we’ve gone out a few times.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Aaand?” Eddie asked, trying to gather more information. Buck sighed again, folding his arms, “She floats between stations. That makes it… complicated.” 

Eddie tilted his head, “Why’s that a problem?” Eddie asked curiously. Buck’s chest tightened. “Because she’s not always in one place. I never know when I’ll see her next. I don’t get to plan anything… and I don’t know if she’s thinking about me the same way I’m thinking about her.”

A small pause hung between them. Eddie studied him, letting Buck’s words settle. Then another grin tugged at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “And yet,” Eddie said, shaking his head slightly, “you still try.”

Buck looked up, a slow smile creeping onto his face despite himself. “Yeah.”

There was a quiet beat. The open bay doors showed the city outside, the faint smell of rain beginning to drift in. Buck’s heart felt lighter, if only a little, because admitting it out loud made it feel real.

“You had a pretty specific look when you realized she was there,” Eddie added, smirking. “Oh my god,” Buck muttered, burying his face in his hands for a moment before straightening again.

“Look, I’m just saying…-” Eddie started, but before he could even finish his sentence, Buck cut him off. “You’re even worse than Chimney,” Buck shot back, half amused, half embarrassed.

“Not even close,” Eddie said. Buck laughed quietly, shaking his head. That flutter of warmth in his chest returned. That one feeling that always made him think about her longer than he should.

He let his gaze wander toward the street outside. Somewhere out there, (Y/n) was still on duty, still moving between calls, probably unaware that he’d been thinking about her all day.

“She looked good,” Buck admitted quietly. “You like her.” Eddie noticed immediately. Buck hesitated, heart thudding in a way that was hard to control. Then he nodded slowly, as if saying it out loud made it real. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Eddie clapped a hand to his shoulder, “Then stop overthinking it.” Buck exhaled, running another hand through his curls. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is,” Eddie said simply. “Ask her out again.” Eddie pushed, and Buck considered that for a moment. Eddie nudged him slightly with his shoulder. “Before it’s too late.” he added. 

Buck glanced at him, “Okay, now you’re being dramatic.” Buck stated. Eddie shrugged, “Maybe.”

______

The locker room was quiet for once, the team had split up over the entire firehouse doing chores. A few voices faintly sounded down the hallway, while Buck was sitting down on the wooden bench in front of his locker.

He had his phone balanced loosely in his hands, Eddie’s words kept replaying in his head over and over again. Ask her out again.

Buck exhaled slowly and opened their chat. Her name sat at the top of the screen. The last message between them was from a few days ago. Something easy, casual, about schedules and maybe grabbing coffee if their shifts lined up again.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he thought about what to write down. 

“Hey, I saw you today-”  He stopped typing mid sentence, and deleted it.

“Want to grab dinner sometime this week?” He read the question, and once again he deleted it.

Buck leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair. The curls jumped back into place immediately. Why was this, sending a simple text, harder than running into burning buildings?

He stared at the blank message field again. There were a hundred things he could say, but none of them felt right. 

Finally, with a frustrated breath, he pushed himself to his feet. “Okay,” he muttered to himself. “New plan.” he sighed as he tapped her contact and lifted the phone to his ear as it rang.

He waited patiently for her voice to fill his ear, but after three rings, her voicemail picked up. Buck hesitated for half a second, whether he should hang up or leave a message as the voice told him the number he was trying to reach. 

The beep sounded, and he just started to talk. “Hey… uh- hey, it’s me.” He laughed softly at his sudden stress reaction and the way he sounded. Great start. “I just..” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was thinking maybe we could grab dinner sometime. Or coffee. Or.. whatever. If you’re free.” A small smile appeared on his face, “Anyway. Call me when you get this.” and with those words he ended the call and stared at the phone for a moment longer.

Then he slipped it back into his pocket and grabbed his duffel bag from his locker. The station hallway was warm and loud when he stepped back out. The smell of pasta drifted through the air.

Chimney was standing at the stove, spatula in hand. “There he is!” Chimney said. “Thought you fell asleep in there.” he commented as he started stirring the pan in front of him. 

Buck grinned, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. “Just needed to take care of something.” Buck answered. 

Hen sat at the table scrolling through the tablet while Eddie leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You heading out?” Hen asked as she stopped scrolling. “Yeah,” Buck said. “Early shift tomorrow. I’m covering for someone from C-shift.” he added as he repositioned the duffle strap on his shoulder.

Eddie stood up from his chair, aiming for the kitchen, but instead he made a brief stop at Buck. “Call her?” he whispered, making eye contact with Buck. Buck shrugged, trying (and failing) to hide the small smile tugging at his mouth. “Maybe.” Eddie nodded once, satisfied, and continued his way towards the kitchen. 

“Goodnight, Buck,” Bobby called from across the room. “Night, Cap.” Buck waved once to the rest of them before heading down the stairs and towards the exit of the firehouse.

Outside, the evening air was cooler than normal, and the sky filled with dark clouds,  threatening with rain.

He tossed his duffel bag into the passenger seat of his Jeep and climbed behind the wheel. For a moment, he sat there, glancing down at his phone again. Still no response.

He started the engine anyway. He knew (Y/n) was probably still on shift. He’d hear from her later.

The rain had started pouring just as Buck arrived on the freeway to make his way home. 

It wasn’t heavy, but it was just enough to make the asphalt slick and reflective under the endless stream of headlights moving along the freeway.

Buck kept both hands on the steering wheel as traffic moved around him. The wipers swept back and forth in a steady rhythm, clearing the thin layer of water from the windshield.

His phone buzzed suddenly in the cup holder. Buck glanced down and he saw her name lit up the screen. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Finally,” he muttered. He looked down once more, to see what she texted him back, but when his eyes switched back to the road he could see the truck ahead of him lost control. 

It happened in a heartbeat. The semi’s trailer began to fishtail violently across the lane, tires screeching against the wet pavement as the driver fought to correct it. Buck’s head snapped up. The trailer swung sideways across the freeway. Cars slammed their brakes. Horns blared through the sky and red brake lights lit up the freeway in every direction. 

Buck jerked the wheel, trying to avoid the spinning trailer.

The Jeep hydroplaned. For one terrifying second the tires lost all grip. Metal crashed against metal with a deafening explosion of sound. The front of the Jeep slammed into the side of another car as the trailer clipped the rear of his vehicle, sending it spinning across two lanes of traffic.

The world became a blur of lights and violent motion for Buck. The airbag exploded in front of him. The Jeep spun once, twice and then slammed hard into the guardrail.

Finally, everything stopped. Buck didn’t move for a moment. Rain tapped softly against the shattered windshield, but the only thing Buck could hear was a loud beep in his ear due to the impact of the airbag.

Pain bloomed through his chest and ribs like fire. The smell of burned rubber and deployed airbags filled the air inside the car.

He tried to breathe, but the air caught painfully in his lungs. Buck’s vision blurred and got taken over by darkness that crept slowly into the edges of his vision. Not long after that, everything faded. 

_

The rain had started about twenty minutes earlier. It wasn’t a storm, it was just a steady drizzle that painted the roads in shimmering reflections of headlights and taillights. Traffic moved slower because of it, engines humming steadily. 

(Y/n) sat in the passenger seat, one elbow resting against the door while she watched people trying to seek shelter because of the rain. The radio crackled quietly in the background as Jamal drove beside her, with one hand on the wheel.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out of her pocket and a notification lit up the screen. Her eyebrows lifted slightly when she saw the name attached to it. 

One missed call - Buck

One new voicemail - Buck

For a moment she just stared at the notification, curiosity flickering across her face. Then the corner of her mouth lifted before she could stop it.

Jamal noticed immediately.He glanced sideways at her, catching the expression that was written down her face. “Alright,” he said casually, eyes still on the road. “What’s that smile for?”

(Y/n) huffed out a quiet breath through her nose, still looking at the screen. “Nothing… uh, no one.” she said. 

“Uh-huh.” Jamal smirked faintly. “People don’t look at their phones like that for nothing.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile didn’t completely disappear. “It’s just a voicemail,” she said.

“From?” he immediately asked. “Do you need to be told everything?” She said, one eyebrow lifting at the sudden nosiness of her partner. He just looked her dead in the eye, waiting for an answer. She hesitated for half a second before answering, “It’s Buck.” she admitted.

That made Jamal glance over again. “Oh.” he reacted, “That Buck?”

(Y/n) shook her head, already tapping out a quick message. “Don’t start.” she said, and her thumbs moved quickly over the screen.

Saw your voicemail. I’m on shift right now. I'll listen to it later.

She hit send before she could think about it too much. The message was delivered almost instantly.

Jamal watched her tuck the phone away again. “So…” he said after a moment, breaking the sudden silence. (Y/n) looked out the windshield again. “So what?” she said, her eyes wandering back to the driver’s seat. 

“Nothing,” he replied innocently. “Just interesting that a voicemail from him makes you smile like that.” he teased. She gave him a sideways look. “I was not smiling like that.” she said, a bit offended. 

Jamal grinned. “Sure you weren’t.” She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she leaned back in her seat. Then the radio suddenly crackled sharply to life.

Her head snapped up immediately. Jamal reached for the radio without hesitation, “This is ambulance 122, go ahead” he answered, and waited patiently until dispatch crackled through the speaker again. 

“Please respond to the multiple vehicle collision on the freeway. Possible entrapment. Several callers reporting serious injuries.” The dispatcher said on the other side of the line. 

(Y/n)’s stomach tightened slightly at the call. Freeway crashes were rarely simple. But these were the calls where the paramedics and firefighters needed to work tightly together as a team. 

 “Ambulance 122 responding.” Jamal said, and placed the radio back into its place. He flipped on the lights and siren, guiding the ambulance into traffic as cars began pulling aside.

“You ready?” he asked, glancing to his right. “Always,” she said automatically, already reaching for gloves.

But something about the call made the air feel heavier. The closer they got, the worse it looked. The rain had turned the freeway into a mirror of red brake lights and flashing emergency strobes.

(Y/n) stepped out of the ambulance and the cold air hit her immediately. The sharp smell of wet asphalt and burnt rubber was floating through the air. Sirens echoed across the lanes, bouncing off the concrete barriers while firefighters moved quickly between the scattered wreckages.

Her boots hit the pavement, she got her medic bag from the ambulance and just like that, she was already moving. 

Several vehicles were all over the place, but their lane. A sedan crushed against the guardrail. Another car sideways across the shoulder.

Then she saw the Jeep. Something in her chest tightened before she even reached it. She looked through the window and located a victim inside. She tried to open the passenger door of the Jeep, for a moment it looked like it was stuck. But then, it gave in and opened for her. 

Without a second thought, she placed her left knee onto the passenger seat and her right feet on the floor of the car. “Sir, can you hear me?” she asked, as her hand touched his shoulder.

And that’s when her world stopped spinning. Buck.

For a fraction of a second everything inside her went still. The rain, the flashing lights, the noise of the freeway, it all seemed to fall away. 

Buck was slumped behind the wheel, the airbag deflated against his chest. The front of the Jeep had folded inward from the impact, the dashboard pushed back enough that it pinned his legs in place. The driver’s side door was crushed tight against the guardrail, completely inaccessible. His head tilted forward in an unnatural angle.

Her pulse thundered once in her ears. But then, instinct slammed into place. “He’s breathing,” she said, her voice steady despite the sudden pressure she felt in her chest. “Shallow respirations.” she concluded. She reached for his neck carefully, fingers searching for a pulse.

It was weak, but there. “Pulse present.” she said as she searched in her bag for a c-collar. Jamal arrived beside her a second later, his eyes moved from her face to the patient and recognition flashed across them. “Oh hell.” he said.

(Y/n) didn’t look at him, she found the c-collar in her bag, and took off the plastic. Her hands were already working, supporting Buck’s head, guiding the c-collar into place, checking his airway again. “Possible chest trauma,” she murmured, half to herself, half to the people around her. “We need him on oxygen.”

Jamal watched her for a moment. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her breathing had shortened slightly. But her hands were steady. Her voice was calm. She was being professional. Still, he lowered his voice. “(Y/n).” he said. 

She didn’t turn, “I’ve got him,” she said quietly. Jamal studied her for another second. “You sure?” he asked, trying to get eye contact with her. Her eyes flicked to him briefly. Just long enough for him to see the emotion there. The fear she was fighting to keep buried beneath layers of training and control. “I can do this,” she said.

“Medic! We need a medic over here!” Someone's shout echoed from somewhere further down the freeway. Jamal glanced toward the sound. Firefighters were gathered around another vehicle, someone kneeling beside a patient on the ground.

He hesitated, then looked back at her.

(Y/n) was already sliding an oxygen mask over Buck’s face, adjusting the strap carefully behind his head. Her hands didn’t shake. Jamal exhaled slowly. “Alright,” he said, “I’m trusting you on this one.” he added. 

She nodded once, “Go, I’ve got him.” she told him.  Jamal gave Buck one last look before turning toward the other call. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

(Y/n) kept one hand steady against his shoulder while the other worked quickly through her kit. Her fingers moved with practiced efficiency as she wrapped the tourniquet around his arm, feeling for a vein. Even in the dim interior light she could see how pale his skin looked.

“Come on Buck, stay awake for me.” she muttered quietly. And the needle slid in clean. She secured the catheter and connected the line, taping it down quickly before hanging the fluid bag from the grab handle above the passenger door, where the IV line dripped steadily. 

Behind her, boots splashed across the wet pavement as more firefighters approached. (Y/n) barely looked up, she was checking Buck’s pulse again when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

For a moment, no one spoke. Three figures stood just outside the open passenger door.

Eddie was the closest, his helmet dripping rainwater as he stared into the vehicle. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. His eyes were locked on Buck like he was trying to process what he was seeing. Behind him, Chimney exhaled sharply.

Bobby stepped forward last, and the moment he saw the driver’s seat, shock flickered across his face. It was quick, but unmistakable.

Then it was gone, his posture straightened slightly as training and years of command snapped into place. “Alright,” he said firmly.

Firefighters nearby immediately shifted their attention. Bobby stepped closer to the door, taking in the wreckage with a quick, practiced glance, the crushed driver’s side, the dashboard pushed inward, the position of Buck’s legs.

He searched for her last name that was written on the back of her turnout coat. Then he looked to her,  “(Y/L/N)” he said. “What do we have?” he asked, he switched so easy between emotionally involved and professionalism.

(Y/n) didn’t stop working as she answered. She adjusted the IV line and checked the flow while her other hand briefly returned to Buck’s neck to check his pulse again. “Male, mid-thirties,” she said. “Unconscious on arrival but breathing on his own.”

She reached up to reposition the oxygen mask slightly. “Pulse rapid. Respirations shallow.” she added. Her eyes flicked toward the dashboard, “Both legs pinned under the dash. Possible chest trauma and head injury. IV is in, fluids are running.” 

Bobby followed her line of sight toward the crushed interior of the Jeep, and he nodded once. “Alright.” he said, and stepped back, shifting his attention to the crew around him. 

“We’ll handle the extrication.” 

(Y/n) didn’t argue. That wasn’t her job. Her job was keeping Buck alive until they could get him out.

Behind Bobby, Eddie still hadn’t moved. His eyes were locked on Buck’s face. Bobby glanced toward him, “Eddie.” he said, and the single word snapped him back to reality.

Eddie blinked, like he’d just come back to himself. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “Yeah.”

“Get the ram ready,” Bobby ordered, Eddie nodded and turned immediately, heading toward the truck to get the equipment. Chimney crouched beside the passenger door, leaning slightly inside the vehicle. “You good in there?” he asked quietly.

(Y/n) nodded, “For now.” She glanced around the cramped front seat. Once the crew started cutting and lifting the dashboard, there wouldn’t be space for her here.

She looked back at Chim. “I need to move to the back seat so they can work.” she said. He nodded immediately, “Need a hand?” he asked. (Y/n) shook her head, “I’ve got it.”

Carefully, she shifted her weight, keeping one hand steady on Buck’s shoulder while slowly backing out of the passenger side. The rear passenger door had already been forced open, giving her just enough room to slide into the back seat. Once there, she leaned forward between the seats, reaching around the headrest to check on Buck again. Because in moments like this, the status of a victim could change dramatically fast. 

From here, the firefighters had room to move. Outside the Jeep, tools roared to life. Metal clanged as equipment was positioned.

Boots splashed through puddles as the crew surrounded the wreck. Bobby’s voice carried clearly over the scene, “Stabilize the vehicle!”

“Eddie, get ready for the dash lift!”

(Y/n) barely registered any of it, her focus stayed on Buck. She checked the IV line once more, then rested two fingers against his neck again.

His pulse was still there. It was fast, fragile but he was still fighting.

Metal groaned as firefighters moved into position along the passenger side, the rain hissing against hot machinery. Someone wedged cribbing blocks beneath the frame to stabilize the vehicle while others worked the spreaders into the door seams.

Inside the car, (Y/n) barely moved. She leaned forward from the back seat, one arm braced against the headrest while her hand kept Buck’s head steady, fingers firm against the cervical collar. “Easy,” she murmured quietly, more for herself than for him.

Outside, the passenger door tore free with a loud metallic crack. Bobby’s voice cut clearly through the chaos. “Alright Eddie, get the ram set under the dash.” He ordered. 

“On it, Cap.” Eddie moved quickly now, the earlier shock replaced with focused precision as he positioned the hydraulic ram beneath the crushed dashboard.

Chimney leaned in slightly from the open side of the vehicle, glancing toward (Y/n). “Vitals?” He asked. 

She checked Buck’s pulse again. “Still tachy,” she said. “Pulse is weak but holding.” She updated him. His chest rose shallowly beneath his jacket and the oxygen mask fogged faintly with each breath.

“Okay,” Chim said quietly. “Hang in there, Buck.” he said, maybe more to himself than to the unconscious Buck. 

Bobby stepped closer, watching Eddie secure the ram into place. “Ready?” Bobby checked, Eddie nodded at the question, “Ready.” he said as he waited for the signal from his captain.

“Go slow.” Bobby reminded him. And with those words, the ram came to life. The metal frame groaned loudly as the dashboard began to shift forward, relieving the pressure on Buck’s legs. Buck’s body jerked slightly with the movement.

(Y/n)’s hand tightened instinctively against the back of his neck. “Easy,” she whispered. The ram pushed further, and the dashboard lifted just enough to free the pressure trapping Buck’s legs.

Eddie glanced toward Bobby. “That’s it, cap! Legs are free!” Eddie called out to over take the sound of the ram. “Good,” Bobby said. “Let’s get him out.” 

Chimney immediately grabbed the backboard from beside the vehicle. “Alright,” he said. “Board coming in.” Carefully, Chim and another firefighter slid it through the open passenger side, maneuvering it behind Buck’s back as best they could in the cramped space.

(Y/n) shifted slightly to help guide it into place without moving Buck’s neck too much. “On my count,” Bobby said as rain dripped from the edge of his helmet. “One…two…three!” Buck was carefully lifted, his body guided onto the board as the crew worked around the tight interior of the Jeep.

(Y/n) kept her hands firmly stabilizing his head the entire time. “Watch the legs,” Eddie warned as they eased him free of the crushed dashboard. Then slowly, they slid the backboard through the open passenger side.

The moment Buck cleared the vehicle,(Y/n) got out of the Jeep. She moved fast and clean, grabbing the fluid bag from the grab handle above the passenger door. 

The waiting stretcher rolled forward as they moved towards the gurney too, meeting each other halfway. “Lowering,” Chimney said. The board settled onto the gurney, and straps were secured quickly.

She hung the fluidbag on the stretcher pole and walked alongside the gurney as it was being pushed towards another ambulance. “Male, approximately mid-thirties,” she said. “Driver in high-speed MVA. Found unconscious on arrival.” 

One of the paramedics nodded as they were checking Buck’s pulse.  “Airway?” he asked then. “Maintained with oxygen mask,” she said. “Spontaneous respirations, shallow.” she nodded towards the IV line. “Single IV established, fluids running. Pulse tachycardic and weak. Possible chest trauma, head injury, and bilateral leg entrapment prior to extrication.”

The paramedic nodded again, “Got it!” he said, and they continued rolling the stretcher quickly toward the waiting ambulance. The back doors were already open as they arrived, the gurney with Buck was lifted inside. 

(Y/n) followed just long enough to see Buck inside the ambulance, alive, before she moved to the back doors of the ambulance.

One paramedic moved towards the driver’s side and the other paramedic climbed in the back with Buck. She closed both back doors with a heavy thud and took a step back. She raised her hand and banged firmly against the back of the ambulance, to signal the driver that he was ready to go. 

The ambulance engine came to life, tires spraying water as it pulled away from the wreckage. Red lights flashed across the wet freeway as the vehicle merged through the blocked lanes and disappeared into the rain and traffic.

(Y/n) stood there for a moment, staring after it. He was alive. Those words repeated in her head like a fragile promise. But the moment the ambulance vanished from sight, the tension that had been holding her together began to crack.

Behind her, the freeway scene was still loud and chaotic, firefighters shouting to one another, tools clanging, another medic calling for supplies. The crash hadn’t stopped just because Buck was safe and on his way to the hospital.

She suddenly needed distance from it. Without saying anything, she turned and walked toward the edge of the freeway. The guardrail that ran along the side of the road was covered with rainwater and reflecting the flashing emergency lights behind her. She stopped there and braced both palms against the cold metal, leaning forward slightly.

Her head lowered, and the noise of the scene faded behind her. For a few seconds she just stood there, breathing.

But then the first shaky breath escaped before she could stop it. She tried to suppress the sounds by placing her hand up to her mouth. She pressed her fingers harder against her lips, trying to keep the sound contained, shoulders tightening as the emotions she’d held back through the entire call finally surged up.

Her eyes squeezed shut as rain slid down her face, mixing with the tears she couldn’t stop now. All she could see was Buck’s pale face on that stretcher. All she could feel was the weak rhythm of his pulse beneath her fingers.

Eddie had just finished sliding the hydraulic ram back into the compartment, back where it belonged, when he looked up. “Eddie,” Chimney called from near the engine. “We’re gonna need-” but before he could even hear what Chimney needed, he automatically replied with “Yeah” as his voice faded. 

Eddie noticed a familiar figure walking away from the scene. It was (Y/n).

She moved toward the guardrail slowly, like someone trying not to draw attention to themselves. Eddie watched her stop there, leaning forward with both hands on the metal barrier.

Something about the posture made his chest tighten. Then he saw her lift a hand to her mouth, but he knew she was crying by the way her shoulders tightened. He didn’t hear the sob from this distance.

He glanced briefly back toward the crew still working around the wreck. Bobby was directing another team farther down the freeway, Chimney kneeling beside another patient.

No one else had noticed her. Eddie closed the compartment door and then walked toward the guardrail. The rain fell from the sky and the flashing lights painted colors across the asphalt.

(Y/n) didn’t hear him approach. Her shoulders were shaking now, her hand still pressed tightly against her mouth as she tried to keep the sound from carrying back to the scene.

Eddie stopped beside her and for a moment he didn’t say anything. He simply stood there, looking out at the dark freeway beyond the guardrail.

He knew this feeling, the moment after the adrenaline left your system. The moment when the reality of the call caught up to you all at once. Especially when the person on that stretcher was someone you cared about.

Then he reached out and rested a hand gently on her shoulder, the touch made her flinch slightly. But (Y/n) turned her head.

Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the rain that soaked her hair and uniform. Her hand slowly lowered from her mouth, though she immediately bit down on her lower lip, trying to hold back another cry threatening to break free.

For a second she just looked at him, like she was trying to apologize for falling apart. Eddie met her gaze quietly. He didn’t ask what was wrong, He didn’t tell her it would be okay… All he did was give a small, steady nod.

The kind of nod that meant I know. The kind that meant you did everything you could.

His hand squeezed her shoulder once, firm and grounding, before he looked back toward the wreck scene.

Behind them, the chaos of the freeway crash continued. Sirens wailing, shouted orders, tools clanging against metal. But for a brief moment beside the guardrail, the noise seemed far away. 

It was strange how quickly a night could change. One moment everything felt normal, and you were waiting for the next call. And the next moment, everything was torn apart.

______

The city had settled into that strange, quiet rhythm that only came in the middle of the night. But it wasn’t quite the same as other nights.

Streetlights slid past the windshield as the ambulance cruised through the mostly empty streets of Los Angeles. The tires hummed softly against the asphalt, the engine sounded softly inside of the ambulance.

two hours had passed since they had left the freeway scene. They’d transported another victim from the crash to a different hospital. The victim had minor injuries, nothing life-threatening. 

The kind of call that normally would fill the drive back with routine conversation or quiet paperwork. Tonight, neither of those things were happening. But it wasn’t a normal night after all.

(Y/n) sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. The glow of passing lights reflected faintly in her eyes, but she wasn’t really seeing any of it.

Her mind was still back on the freeway. With the crushed front of Buck’s Jeep, the feeling of his weak pulse beneath her fingers and the moment the ambulance doors had closed. It all played on loop over and over again in her head.

Beside her, Jamal drove with one hand resting on the wheel. Every now and then he glanced over. It wasn’t obvious, they were just quick checks from the corner of his eye.

She hadn’t said more than three words since they cleared the scene. Her posture hadn’t changed either. Shoulders slightly hunched. One hand resting loosely near the door handle, fingers absentmindedly rubbing against her sleeve.

He’d seen that look before.

Finally, Jamal broke the silence. “You know,” he said casually, eyes still on the road, “first time I ever had to treat someone I cared about was overseas.”

(Y/n) didn’t respond, and he expected that. “Back when I was still running with the teams. One of our guys got hit during an op,” Jamal continued. “Nothing cinematic. No big explosions. Just wrong place, wrong time.” 

He gave a small breath through his nose. “I remember kneeling next to him thinking that’s my brother right there. Not just my teammate.”

(Y/n)’s eyes shifted slightly, but she still didn’t look away from the window. But Jamal kept talking anyway. “You train your whole career to treat strangers,” he said. “But when it’s someone you actually care about?”

He shook his head slightly. “That hits different.” he said. The silence stretched again for a few seconds.

Then he glanced over at her. “I know how you feel,” he said simply. “Trust me.”

(Y/n)’s jaw tightened faintly as she avoided eye contact with him. “I’m fine.” She said. 

Jamal huffed softly. “Yeah,” he muttered. “You keep telling yourself that.” 

Another silence filled the inside of the ambulance. Her fingers stilled stopped moving against her sleeve. “You definitely feel something for him,” Jamal said after a moment, breaking the silence once again.

That made her turn her head slightly. “What?” she sounded almost offended as he told her that.

“You heard me.” Jamal daid, and nodded toward the road ahead. “You care about the guy.” He continued.

She looked back out the window immediately, avoiding him. “That’s not-” she started, but got cut off. “…wrong?” Jamal finished her sentence for her. 

She didn’t answer and Jamal let out a slow breath. “So I made a call.” He started. That made her frown slightly. “What call?” She asked. 

He reached forward and picked up the radio from the console. (Y/n) turned toward him now, “Jamal…” she sighed. 

He pressed the speaker button. “Dispatch, this is ambulance 122.” Static crackled briefly, and a dispatcher on the otherside of the line answered. “Go ahead, ambulance 122.”

“Ambulance 122 going out of service for the remainder of shift.” he spoke. (Y/n) sat up straighter. “What are you doing?” she whispered as she walked him with the back of her hand.

“Copy that, 122. Out of service.” And with that, he set the radio back in place. (Y/n) stared at him. “You can’t do that.” She told him. 

“Well, I can. And already did.” He said. “There’s only a few hours left in the shift,” she argued. “I can make it through.” she added, sounding determined. 

Jamal shook his head once. “No, you can’t.” he started. Her mouth opened to protest again, but then she realized something. She hadn’t been paying attention to the route. Her brows pulled together slightly as she looked out the windshield.

“Wait. This isn’t the way back to the station.” She noticed. Jamal didn’t answer. The ambulance slowed as it turned into a brightly lit entrance, automatic doors and the emergency bay she has seen a million times.

(Y/n)’s stomach dropped. The rig rolled to a stop beneath the overhead lights. She turned toward him, confused. “Why are we stopping at another hospital?” she asked. “We just dropped someone off.” 

Jamal finally looked over at her. His expression was calm. Certain. “This is the hospital they brought Buck to.” he revealed. 

The words settled quietly in the cab. He nodded toward the doors. “Figured you might want to check on him.” 

For a moment, (Y/n) didn’t move. The words hung in the quiet cab of the ambulance, heavier than the silence that had filled it before.

Her eyes drifted toward the brightly lit entrance ahead of them. The emergency bay was busy even at this hour… orderlies moving stretchers, a nurse pushing through the automatic doors with a clipboard tucked under her arm.

Her chest tightened. “You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured. Jamal shrugged slightly, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah,” he said. “I kinda did.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him for the first time since the freeway. “You said you wanted to focus on the job,” he added gently. “Well… right now this is your job, and I’m telling you, as your PIC to do your job.”

(Y/n)’s gaze drifted back to the ER entrance. The sliding doors opened and closed every few seconds, spilling warm light onto the wet pavement outside.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the doorhandle. “What if-” she started, but the thought died in her throat.

Jamal didn’t press her to finish it. Instead he nodded toward the doors. “Go check on him,” he said quietly.

She hesitated one more second, but then she pushed the passenger door open.

The automatic doors slid open with a soft mechanical hiss as she stepped inside. The emergency department was harshly bright after the darkness outside.

Monitors beeped somewhere deep down the hall, voices carrying faintly from behind closed doors as nurses moved quickly through the room.

(Y/n) stepped up to the nurses’ station, trying to steady the tightness in her chest. A nurse looked up from her computer. “Hi,” (Y/n) said, her voice a little tight. “I’m looking for a patient that came in from a freeway MVA earlier tonight. His name is Evan-” 

A chair scraped against the tile behind her. She turned instinctively. Eddie was already standing. For a moment their eyes met across the waiting area.

Behind him, the rest of the crew sat scattered through the waiting room. Bobby leaning forward with his hands clasped holding something in his hands, Chim with his elbows on his knees, Hen sitting upright with her arms folded. They had all looked up the moment she walked in.

“Oh-” she murmured, turning back to the nurse quickly. “Thank you, I think they’ve got me.” she said. The nurse nodded, already returning to her screen.

(Y/n) stepped away from the desk and walked toward the group. Eddie met her halfway. “How is he?” she asked immediately, the words coming out before she could stop them.

Eddie exhaled slowly. “They took him into surgery about an hour ago.”

Her stomach dropped.

“They found internal bleeding on the scans,” he explained. “Possible spleen injury. Couple broken ribs. His legs took a hit too from being pinned.”

(Y/n)’s mind immediately started retracing the call.

“I thought his pressure was dropping,” she said quickly, almost to herself. “I started fluids but I didn’t want to overload him before imaging and I—” she looked up, swallowing the tears that were about to fill her eyes, away. 

Her hands had started shaking again. “I should’ve pushed more before transport,” she continued, panic creeping into her voice. “Or maybe I should’ve-” she stopped mid-sentence.

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice cut through the spiral. Eddie stepped a little closer, his tone calm but firm. “You’re the reason we got him out of that car alive.” he said. 

Her breath caught slightly. “I stabilized him before extrication but..” Eddie stopped her once again. “You kept him alive,” Eddie repeated.

For a moment she just stared at him. Rainwater still clung to the edges of her hair, the fluorescent lights catching the slightly redness in her eyes.

Behind Eddie, the rest of the team watched quietly. “You did your job,” Eddie added. “Everything you said you did? That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

Her lip trembled faintly, but the panic in her breathing eased just a little.

Eddie gave a small nod toward the chairs. “Come, sit with us.” he said.

(Y/n) hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Okay.” She said softly, and they moved back toward the waiting area.

Hen shifted slightly in her seat to give her space, Chim offering a small, tired nod of acknowledgment as she sat down.

No one asked more questions. The steady hum of hospital lights filled the silence of the hospital waiting room, as the hours of waiting began. 

The waiting room had grown quieter as the hours passed.

The adrenaline that had carried everyone through the crash had faded, leaving everybody exhausted and with an uneasy silence. 

(Y/n) sat near the end of the row of chairs, her hands loosely clasped together, staring at nothing in particular.

Scattered across the waiting room, the 118 waited too. They were also still in turn out gear, dried up sweat stuck to their faces and a bit of ash faded on some people’s skin. 

Bobby leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands folded together, it almost was like he was holding something in his hands, but (Y/n) couldn’t quite see it. Sometimes he whispered to himself with his eyes closed, but later she realized he was praying.

Chim sat beside him, occasionally glancing toward the hallway doors that led deeper into the hospital. Between Hen and Chim were a few seats, she had her arms crossed loosely, one foot bouncing slightly against the floor.

Eddie stood, he hadn’t sat down once. Every now and then he paced and then stopped to lean against one of the walls. 

The automatic doors at the end of the hallway finally opened again. Everyone looked up at the same time. A surgeon stepped into the waiting room, pulling his surgical cap off as he walked toward them.

Bobby was already on his feet and the rest of them stood almost automatically, gathering behind him.

“Captain Nash?” the surgeon asked. “That’s me,” Bobby replied, putting up a small hand. 

The doctor gave a small nod before continuing. “Evan Buckley is out of surgery.” The surgeon spoke. 

Every muscle in (Y/n)’s body went still. 

“The procedure went well. We were able to stabilize the internal bleeding. Mr. Buckley sustained significant trauma to both legs. He had a fractured femur on the left and multiple fractures in his lower right leg. We stabilized the bones with surgical hardware. But for now, he’s stable.”

“Will he be able to walk again?” Bobby asked. The surgeon nodded at his question, “He’ll need physical therapy and some time to heal, but we expect him to make a full recovery.” 

A breath escaped the room, several at once. He was alive, he was going to recover, he was going to be okay.

“He’s still coming out of anesthesia,” the surgeon continued, glancing between the firefighters. “But you’re welcome to see him. Just, not all at once. Two people at a time.”

Chim huffed a quiet laugh beside her. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he muttered.

The surgeon sent a small smile. “He may wake up at any point. For now, he’s in recovery.” Bobby nodded, gratitude written clearly across his tired face. “Thank you, doctor.” He said, and shook his hand, with that the surgeon left. 

For a moment, nobody moved. Then Bobby turned slightly. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Two at a time.” 

The visits began slowly after that. Bobby and Eddie went first. They disappeared down the hallway while the others waited in the waiting room, the quiet stretching again. 

“He’s hanging in there.” Bobby said as he gave the remaining people a quiet nod. 

Next Hen and Chim went. But, (Y/n) stayed where she was, she wanted to give the team, the people who stood closest to him, the first chance to see him. So, she told herself she would wait until they were all done.

Time went by, eventually while Bobby was grabbing a cup of coffee. Hen and Chim were with Buck. Leaving Eddie and (Y/n) alone in the waiting room, he was sitting across from (Y/n).

“How is he?” she asked quietly, breaking the waiting room's tense silence. 

Eddie hesitated, it wasn’t in a cruel way. He was just trying to be honest, but also trying not to scare her. “He looks rough,” he admitted.

The words made her stomach drop, her eyes immediately wandered toward the floor. Eddie noticed. “But that’s normal,” he added quickly. “Surgery, tubes, machines… it just looks worse than it is.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure if his words helped. “You should go in there.” He said simply.

(Y/n) looked at him, caught off guard by how direct he was. Her hands tightened together in her lap. “I… don’t know if that’s a good idea.” she said with a doubt in her voice.

Eddie frowned slightly. “Why not?” He asked, eyes locked on her. She hesitated, then gave a small shrug, “What if he doesn’t want me there?” She said uncertain. 

For a moment Eddie just stared at her. Like the thought that she had, it seriously didn’t make sense to him. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he said.

She looked down again. “You don’t know that.” 

Eddie leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms loosely. “I kind of do.”

Her eyes lifted again. He shrugged, like he wasn’t trying to make a big deal out of it. “The way he looked at you earlier,” Eddie said.

She blinked, “What?” She asked, a bit confused. So much had happened this shift that she forgot about this morning. 

“Back at that call this morning,” he clarified. “When he brought out one of the victims and saw you.” 

(Y/n) felt her stomach flip slightly at the memory. Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “Look, I’ve known Buck a long time,” he said slowly. “And I’ve never seen that kind of look on him before.” He explained.

Her breath caught slightly. Eddie leaned his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “I’m pretty sure he’d want you in there.”

For a moment she just sat there, staring toward the hallway that led to Buck’s room. She let her gaze wander back towards the waiting room. Eddie tried to make eye contact with her, and when he did have contact, he gave a small nod toward it. “Go.” He told her. 

(Y/n) took a slow breath, and then she stood. The hallway outside Buck’s room was quieter than the waiting area, at least that was how it felt. 

Every now and then when she passed a room she could faintly hear the sound of machines beeping. (Y/n) reached the door of Buck’s room, she stood outside the door for a moment, her hand resting lightly on the handle.

She wasn’t nervous around patients, she never had been. But this wasn’t just a patient, she realized during the chaos that she cared more about Buck than that she was aware of. 

She pushed the door open. The room was dimmer than the hallway, lit mostly by the soft glow of the monitors beside the bed. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor filled the silence in the room.

Buck lay in the bed, he was still unconscious. Seeing him like this was different than at the crash scene. Out on the freeway everything had been chaos. Rain, flashing lights, crushed metal, shouting voices. There had been no time to think, only to act. And here… the stillness made everything seem more real.

The bruising across his face was slowly transforming into dark purples and reds. A line of stitches disappeared beneath a bandage along his hairline. His shoulder was wrapped and his chest was rising slowly beneath the hospital blanket.

There were tubes, IV lines and monitors. It looked worse than the surgeon’s calm words had sounded, Eddie wasn’t lying to her.

(Y/n) swallowed and stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. She got closer to Buck’s bed and pulled the chair that was standing next to the bed, closer. Careful not to bump any of the lines, she sat down beside him.

For a moment, she just looked at him. “You always did have terrible timing,” she murmured softly. Normally Buck would’ve given her some stupid, cocky reaction. But this time, Buck didn’t move.

Her hand hovered for a moment before she finally reached out, carefully taking his hand that was placed on the blanket. His skin was warm, his fingers relaxed and still.

Her shoulders dropped slightly as some of the weight that was on her shoulders finally faded away. “I mean it,” she continued quietly, her voice barely louder than the monitor beside him. “A freeway pileup? Really?”

She let out a tired breath as she watched him. “I don’t know if you remember any of it…” she said softly. “the crash.” she added. Her thumb brushed lightly against the back of his hand. “You were pinned pretty bad,” she admitted quietly. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” The words slipped out before she could even realize. 

She sighed, looking down at their joined hands. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there,” she mumbled softly. “We were just the second unit dispatched.” She shook her head as she continued talking to him.

Who was she even talking to? He wasn’t even awake, people must think she might be some kind of crazy person, talking to an unconscious person like that. 

For a while she didn’t say anything else, the only thing that was audible in the room were the equipment and machines in the room.

Then something clicked in the back of her mind. Her phone. She had been so caught up in the crash, the hospital, the waiting room… she had forgotten about it completely. 

She reached into her pocket and pulled the phone out, the screen lighting softly in the dim room. The notification was still there. The notification of Buck’s voicemail.

Her hand was still wrapped around his when she pressed play and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey… uh- hey, it’s me.” Her lips curved immediately, he almost sounded nervous. A soft chuckle came through the speaker.

“I just… I was thinking maybe we could grab dinner sometime. Or coffee. Or… whatever. If you’re free.” Her smile grew, a tear slipping down her cheek before she even noticed. Her eyes wandered towards his face as she listened to his voice. 

“…Anyway,” his voice finished quietly, “call me when you get this.” and with those words, the voicemail ended.

(Y/n) lowered the phone slowly, staring down at the screen for a moment as the room fell quiet again. “You idiot,” she murmured under her breath, a small smile tugging at her lips while her thumb brushed lightly over the back of his hand. “You couldn’t just ask me in person?”

She wiped the tear that had escaped down her cheek and leaned back into the chair. For a moment, nothing moved.

Then Buck’s fingers twitched, just slightly. A small movement on the blanket, which (Y/n) didn’t notice. Her gaze had drifted back to the phone in her lap, her mind replaying his voicemail and the soft chuckle he’d let out in the beginning. 

Another twitch happened. But this time his fingers shifted against hers. That was when she noticed it. Her head snapped up instantly, her eyes dropped to their joined hands. “Buck?” she said softly.

His fingers moved again, weaker this time but unmistakable. Her chair scraped softly against the floor as she leaned forward. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice suddenly more alert. “Hey, easy…” she told him. 

Buck’s brow furrowed faintly as he woke up. His breathing changed, growing slightly at the pain in his body. His eyelids fluttered, then slowly, his eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, drifting across the ceiling and the lights. 

Finally, they landed on her. Buck blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he tried to focus on the face beside him. For a moment he just stared at her, like his brain was still trying to catch up to what he was seeing. “…(Y/n)-…?” he mumbled, his voice sounded rough and dry.

A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding finally left her chest. “Yeah,” she said softly, leaning a little closer. “It’s me.” she said, while squeezing his hand softly to let him know she was there with him.

His gaze stayed on her, blinking a few more times as his vision became more clear. “You’re… here.” he said. She smiled and nodded, “I’m here.” she confirmed.

Buck swallowed, his throat clearly dry. His eyes drifted away from her face for a moment, scanning the room slowly. He noticed the monitor beside him, IV lines that ran from his arm and the unfamiliar ceiling lights glowed faintly above him.

His brow furrowed at the intake of all these details. “What… happened?” he stumbled. “You were in a car accident,” she said calmly. Her voice had slipped naturally into the steady tone she used with patients, though her hand still held his. “Freeway crash. You’ve been in surgery, but everything went well.” she explained.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, processing that. Then fragments seemed to return from the crash. The rain. Headlights. The guardrail. Buck sucked in a shallow breath as he pieced the puzzle together. “T-the Jeep…”

“-Is definitely not okay,” she immediately admitted. A small huff of breath left his mouth that might have been the start of a laugh, but it faded quickly. His attention shifted again, his body attempting a small adjustment in the bed. He wanted to reposition himself, but that’s when Buck froze and the brow furrowed more.

Slowly, cautiously, he tried to move his legs, but nothing happened. His breathing changed immediately, it was getting quicker. “Hey,” she said quietly, noticing the shift before he even spoke. “Don’t try to move yet.” she told him. 

But Buck tried again. Why was nothing happening? His eyes widened. “What..-” His voice cracked, panic creeping in almost instantly. “Why can’t I-?” he choked on his words as he tried to figure out what was happening.

His hand tightened weakly around hers. She leaned closer. “Buck. Look at me.” she said, as she gave his hand a slight squeeze again to gain his attention. His gaze snapped back to her face. “You just came out of surgery,” she said steadily. “They gave you a nerve block and anesthesia. Your legs are supposed to feel numb right now.” she explained.

His chest rose and fell quickly, “I can’t feel them.” he said, his voice uncertain. “I know,” she said gently. “That’s normal right now.” 

He shook his head slightly against the pillow, still trying to process what was happening. “What did they do?” he asked. “You had fractures,” she explained softly. “Your left femur and part of your right lower leg. The surgeons repaired everything and stabilized the bones. But you’re going to need time to heal.” she told him.

Buck stared at her, “…Am I gonna walk?” he asked quietly, almost scared to ask the question because of the answer he might get. Her grip on his hand tightened just slightly, “Yes,” she said firmly. The certainty in her voice made him hold her gaze. “You are,” she continued. “Recovery, physical therapy… it’s gonna take some time. But the surgeon said they’d expect you to make a full recovery.”

Some of the panic faded away from him, it wasn’t completely gone, but most of it. Buck exhaled slowly, letting his head sink back against the pillow.

For a moment the room fell quiet again, then his eyes drifted back toward her.

His brow furrowed again, like he was trying to dig for another memory to come up. “…I heard you.” he said, softly. She blinked and was caught off guard,  “What?”

“At the crash,” he murmured, his voice still rough. “I remember… someone talking. Telling me to stay awake.”

Her chest tightened, “That was me.” she said, barely audible. His eyes focused on her again. “You were there?” he asked, almost worried. 

She nodded slowly, “My unit got dispatched as a second ambulance. I assessed you when we got there.” she explained. Buck stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his expression. “You were my medic?” he asked, to get things clear. “Yeah.” she whispered softly. 

Silence took over the room for a bit. But then the corner of his mouth twitched, “…That explains why I listened.” he said, with a small smirk on his face.

She huffed a quiet laugh despite herself, “Don’t get cocky. You were barely conscious.” she said, as she flicked his upper arm with the back of her hand. 

Buck smiled at her. His tired eyes softened slightly, as the smile on his face eased. Then another thought seemed to occur to him. “Wait.” he said. 

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“…Did you get my message?” he asked. 

The question caught her so off guard she just stared at him. Then she let out a quiet, hesitated laugh. “You just woke up from surgery and that’s your first concern?” she shook her head, he really was something else.

Buck gave the tiniest shrug he could manage. “…It’s been bothering me all day.” he said. Her smile softened as she looked down briefly at their joined hands. “Yeah…” she said quietly. “I got your message.” she continued

Buck watched her carefully. “And?”

She hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. Then she looked back up at him. “You know how sometimes you don’t realize what something means to you until you almost lose it?” she said softly.

His expression grew more serious. “That crash tonight…” she continued, her voice gentler now. “made me realize… that I think I subconsciously developed some certain…” Her fingers tightened slightly around his. “feelings for you...” she continued, and a small emotional smile appeared on her face.

She almost felt like a teenager again, “I guess what I’ve been meaning to say is: I care about you, Buck. Like… a lot.” 

The words settled quietly between them, Buck looked at her for a long moment. Then he sent her a squeeze back. “…Good,” he murmured, a smile appeared on his face. “Because that voicemail would’ve been really embarrassing otherwise.” 

A quiet laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it.It started small, almost disbelieving, and then softened into something warmer as she shook her head. “You almost died and you’re worried about your voicemail being embarrassing,” she said, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Your priorities are incredible.”

Buck’s lips curved into a faint, tired grin. It didn’t last long, but the humor in his eyes lingered. “Hey,” he muttered. “That voicemail took courage.”

“Oh, did it?” she teased gently. “Because it sounded more like a nervous breakdown.” He huffed out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.

They both smiled, and for a moment they just looked at each other. The room was quiet again, his hand was still wrapped loosely around hers, his fingers warm but weaker now as the fatigue was taking hold of him.

Buck studied her face for a moment longer. The smile faded from his face, and made place for something more thoughtful. “Are you okay?” he then asked. 

Another question that caught her off guard, she blinked at him. “What?” How could he ask that  when he was the person that was hurt?

“I mean…” he said quietly. “You were there. At the crash.” His gaze softened slightly as he searched her face. “That kind of thing… messes people up.” he explained.

She held his eyes for a moment. The images of Buck being pinned in the car, the blood trickling down his face and the full scene flickered through her mind again. The fear, the adrenaline and the way her hands had refused to shake until the ambulance doors had closed behind him, it all went down in a flash. 

Her chest tightened slightly, but then she smiled, at least.. she tried. “Ask me tomorrow?” she said, with more of a painful smile. Buck watched her for a second longer, like he understood there was more behind the answer than she was willing to say right now.

He nodded, his grip on her hand loosened slightly as the medication pulled him deeper into exhaustion again. His eyelids were already starting to drift closed.

“Hey,” she said quietly, giving his hand a small squeeze. He rolled his head to the side and his eyes opened again just enough to look at her. “You should rest,” she told him gently.

Buck blinked slowly, then his eyes wandered down towards their hands. “…You’re not leaving yet, right?” 

She shook her head, “I’m right here,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. And that seemed to be enough. His eyes finally closed again, his breathing settling back into the slow rhythm of sleep.

(Y/n) stayed in the chair beside the bed, her hand still wrapped loosely around his. For the first time since the chaos of the freeway, the night felt quiet.

______

A few weeks later.

Buck stood in the hallway outside her apartment frontdoor, shifting the small bouquet of flowers in his hand as he checked the number on the door again. Apartment seventeen. 

He adjusted the sleeve of his jacket, rolling his shoulders slightly like he was preparing to take a sprint. His legs still felt different than before the accident, sometimes they felt stiff, maybe a bit slower but he could walk again. The doctors had cleared him a few weeks ago, but Bobby still gave him sometimes a careful look on shift.

Buck gathered his confidence, he had been looking out to this moment for weeks, months. It felt so surreal after everything that happened. But he lifted his hand and knocked.

He waited, while inside, he heard something clatter. That turned into hurried footsteps “Coming!” her voice called from the inside of the apartment. Not a second later, the door opened. 

(Y/n) stood there in a bathrobe, in the middle of putting one earring through her ear, while the other dangled loosely from her fingers. Her hair was half-done, and she looked slightly breathless like she had been racing against the clock and losing that battle.

Buck blinked, “You’re not ready,” he said, a grin forming onto his face as he took in the sight of her. She gave him an apologetic smile, still fiddling with the earring. “I’m almost ready.” she said. 

His eyes dropped to the robe, then back up to her face. “…Almost?” he chuckled. She laughed softly at his comment but stepped aside to let him in. “Come in” she said. Buck stepped inside, offering the flowers as she closed the door behind him. “Sorry, time got away from me.” she apologized. 

Buck turned on his heels to face her again, and send her a smile. But then he realizes he was still holding the flowers he brought in his hands. “Oh, these are for you.” he said. 

Her expression softened at an instant, “They’re beautiful.” she said. He handed her the flowers, and she leaned forward to give him a hug. While on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders for a quick hug. Buck slipped his arms around her and steadied her at her waist, smiling as she balanced there for a moment before pulling back.

“Just give me two minutes,” she said as she created a little space between the two of them. He nodded with a small smile on his face. (Y/n) parked the flowers on her kitchen table, and then Buck watched her disappear down the hallway, towards the bathroom.

The apartment felt warm and lived-in. A soft lamp glowed in the corner of the living room, and a faint scent of something floral lingered in the air. Buck took a few steps inside, glancing around at the small details of her apartment. Books were stacked on a side table, a jacket tossed over a chair, and a few pairs of shoes stood near the door.

“So,” he called toward the hallway, “do you make all your dates wait in your living room while you finish getting ready?” he asked as he noticed a shelf with a few picture frames placed on it. Her voice drifted back from the bathroom, “Only the ones I like.” she answered.

He inspected the few pictures, and then made his way back towards the kitchen. He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, as he waited. “That’s reassuring.” 

He could hear her footsteps over the hallway, drawers opening, the quiet rustle of fabric, the clink of jewelry.

“You nervous?” she asked from her bedroom now. “Me?” Buck scoffed lightly. “Never.” She laughed at his answer. And not much later she appeared in the kitchen again.

Buck forgot almost how to breathe for a second as he laid eyes on her. She was wearing a dress now, it was simple but elegant. And heels that made her just a little taller as she stepped into the kitchen light.

Buck straightened slowly. There was a silence for a second or two. “…Wow.” 

She stopped halfway across the room. “What? Is it too much? It is… isn’t it?” she began to doubt her choices. He pushed himself off the counter and walked toward her, his eyes taking her in like he was trying to memorize every detail. “No, no, it isn’t that.. You just.. You look…” He stumbled over his words, and shook his head slightly. “You look incredible.” he finished his sentence.

A soft color touched her cheeks, “Thank you.” she said. Buck stopped in front of her, close enough now to notice the faint scent of her perfume. For a moment neither of them spoke. The quiet took over the scene, but this felt different. It was charged with something that had been building between them for weeks.

“I can’t believe we almost didn’t get this,” she said softly. Buck’s expression shifted slightly. “Yeah,” he murmured, almost inaudible. Without thinking, his hands settled lightly on her waist. “Me neither.” he added. 

The distance between them closed slowly. Then not so slowly. He lifted her easily before she could protest, setting her gently onto the kitchen counter. She laughed in surprise, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance. “Buck-” she stumbled. 

“We could cancel dinner,” he said, his eyes wandering back towards hers, locking eyes now. Her eyebrows lifted, “Oh?” she said, her hands lightly placed on his shoulders. 

“Stay here instead...” his voice was low. Her smile widened slightly, “That sounds suspiciously like a better plan.” she said, her eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. 

Without a second thought, their lips met, warm and eager after weeks of waiting. Buck deepened the kiss slightly before pulling back just enough to look at her again.

His hands wandered over her legs, ready to lift her again. But that’s when (Y/n) pushed lightly against his chest to stop. Their lips parted, “Hey- no.” she said. 

Buck blinked, almost thinking he did something wrong. “What?” She nodded toward his legs. “You shouldn’t be carrying me around yet.” she said, worried about his leg. 

He sighed while dramatically throwing his head back. “You’re starting to sound like my sister.” he commented. “The doctor cleared you, sure…” she said with a laugh, one of her hands on his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his soft skin “but I just don’t want you to-” Her sentence cut off when Buck leaned down, brushing a slow kiss against the side of her neck.

His voice dropped slightly, warm against her skin. “You should probably stop talking,” he murmured between breaths. 

Her hand that was on his face, was now on the back of his head, as the fingers of her other hand curled into his shirt as she laughed softly, the sound fading as the evening settled around them.

It’s strange how quickly everything can change within the snap of a finger. One moment you’re on the scene of a freeway pile up, nothing else but sirens, rain and screaming orders from captains. The next, you’re standing in a kitchen, kissing someone you almost lost. 

And suddenly the world feels steady again.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

(Y/n) stood at the table, wiping it down with a rag, while Eddie leaned against the counter beside her, arms crossed, boots crossed at the ankles. He wasn’t helping. He rarely did when she was around, he just stayed close, like that was his contribution.

“You know,” she said without looking at him, “you could grab a cloth and actually help.” Eddie let out a quiet laugh. “I am helping.” he said. She glanced up at him, unimpressed. “I’m supervising.” he added, motioning with his hands like it has been super obvious what he’d been doing.

She shook her head, lips twitching despite herself. She reached for the spray bottle, and Eddie moved without thinking, stepping back just enough so she could lean across the counter. His hand brushed her wrist, it was barely there, accidental, but it lingered half a second too long.

They both noticed. Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight. (Y/n) focused very hard on the table. Neither of them said anything, but the moment settled between them. 

A familiar shadow appeared through the open station doors. “Morning, Cap!” Buck said energetic as Bobby passed him on the bay floor. “Hey, Bobby,” Hen called out from the kitchen.

(Y/n) turned with the rest of them as the captain kept quiet. Bobby walked in, and something was wrong. Everybody in the room sensed it. 

He didn’t smile. Didn’t answer. His shoulders were tight, his steps sharp against the floor. He moved straight through the bay like he had somewhere else he needed to be, somewhere far away from all of them.

The room slowly went quiet. (Y/n) felt it in her chest first, a strange tightening. She watched the way Bobby’s jaw clenched as he reached the loft, the way his eyes didn’t quite focus on anything around him.

He headed into the kitchen.

Eddie straightened beside her. Buck stopped sweeping. Chimney trailed off mid-sentence.

Bobby reached up for the cabinet above the sink. The pans inside were tangled together, hooks caught and clanking softly as he tried to pull one free. He pulled once. pulled twice. The sound was small, but the tension wasn’t. 

“Damn it,” Bobby snapped. He yanked the pan harder, then shoved the cabinet door closed with a loud bang that echoed through the entire station. One of the pans slipped loose anyway and crashed onto the floor. No one moved.

Every single one’s eyes were focussed on Bobby now. Hen stepped forward carefully. “Bobby?” she asked, voice gentle. “Hey is everything okay?”

Bobby turned to face them. His eyes were red. Not from crying, but from exhaustion. Underneath was something raw and sharp, like he’d already lost something and was still standing anyway. 

“Harry’s been kidnapped.” He said.

The words landed like a punch. Then Bobby turned away and walked toward the stairs.

No one spoke. They just watched him go, boots heavy against each step, and eventually the door to his office slammed shut.

Silence fell over the station like a heavy blanket. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the hum of the coffee machine seemed too loud in the quiet.

(Y/n) felt Eddie shift beside her. His arm brushed hers. It wasn’t a hug, not a reach for comfort. Just a fleeting touch that lingered a heartbeat too long. Presence. Awareness. Like he needed to know she was still there, like even being near her could shield her from the storm he knew was coming.

She didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But the small connection grounded them both for a fraction of a second, even as the reality of Bobby’s words pressed down on them.

“Oh my God,” Hen whispered, finally breaking the silence. Chimney shook his head slowly, disbelief written across his face. Buck stared at the stairs. “D-did.. he say Harry?” He asked. 

(Y/n) swallowed hard. She could feel the knot in her stomach tightening. Eddie’s eyes met hers for a brief second, concern flashing across his face. “This isn’t just a blackout anymore,” she said quietly.

Eddie nodded once. “No,” he agreed. “It’s not.” he added, and pushed himself off the counter and walked away from the kitchen. 

_

The loft was quiet, the only sound was the soft squeaks of her shoes on the floor and the hum of the lights of the firehouse.

(Y/n) swung her bag over her shoulder, checking one last time that she hadn’t forgotten anything. The shift had been long, twelve hours of calls, alarms, and constant tension. Not only the tension on call, but also the tension between the team and Bobby. They weren’t sure whether he was going to let the emotions take over the calls or if he was able to push the emotions aside. 

Hen leaned against the railing, arms crossed, her face tired but warm. “Text me when you get home, okay?” she said softly, just like she always told her to. (Y/n) nodded. “I will.”

Buck was by the kitchen counter, sipping the last of his coffee. “Don’t get yourself into trouble on the way out,” he teased. “Seriously,” Chimney said, holding up a hand. “Promise you’ll call if anything feels wrong.” He added. She smiled faintly and nodded. “Guys, I’ll be fine. I promise.” she said.

They shared quiet smiles, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. After twelve hours of chaos, it was impossible not to be aware of everyone around you. “I’m heading out,” she said finally, grabbing her bag and hanging the strap over her shoulder.

Hen reached up and pulled her into a brief hug. “This blackout’s got me uneasy. Just be careful, okay?” “Always,” (Y/n) replied. Buck gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You hear that? Always. No exceptions.”

(Y/n) walked toward the stairs, her steps echoing through the firehouse as she left the loft and headed towards the firehouse door.

She stepped out of the door, and that’s where she stopped moving. Eddie was leaning against the brick wall of the station, boots planted firmly on the sidewalk. He was in uniform, sleeves rolled up, the LAFD bomberjacket unzipped. He looked as tired as anyone, but alert. His hands were tucked into his pockets, he hadn’t moved since she came up to the loft, it almost looked like he’d been waiting for her to exit the building.

“Hey,” she said softly as she came to a stop. Eddie turned, and for a fraction of a second, the world seemed to shrink to the space between them. “Hey,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall. She shifted the weight of the duffle on her shoulder “Long night?” she asked. 

“Long,” he said. His gaze flicked back to the street, then returned to her. “Everything okay?” he asked her. She nodded, though the weight of the day pressed on her chest. “Yeah. Just… ready to get home.” she sighed. 

He nodded, silent for a moment, then stepped a little closer and fished a flashlight out of his pocket. “I’ll walk you.” he said, already in the starting blocks to walk towards her car. 

But she wasn’t moving. (Y/n) glanced at him, “You don’t have to…” she said, Eddie turned around to face her again. “I know.” he replied, “but I want to.” he added and motioned his head in the direction of her car. 

He offered a small, almost invisible smile, and together they started walking down the sidewalk. The street was quiet, the flashlight swept across cracked pavement and parked cars.Neither of them spoke for a small moment. The only sound was the soft crunch of their boots on the pavement. The streets were calmer than the night before, but the tension lingered, sirens in the distance, voices echoing somewhere down the block.

They walked in silence until they reached her car. She turned to face him, keys clenched loosely in her hand. “Any updates on Harry?” she asked quietly, trying to make this moment somehow less awkward. 

Eddie shook his head. “Not yet.” Her chest tightened at the answer and her eyes fell to the ground. “Bobby…” she sighed. “He’s barely holding it together,” Eddie said. His jaw tensed. “We all are.” he added. 

She nodded, swallowing. “I keep thinking about Harry.” she replied. “So do I,” Eddie said. There was something in his voice… low, steady, but exhausted. Like the weight of it all was pressing directly against his ribs. “He’s just a kid,” she said.

“I know.”

She sighed as she unlocked her car and opened the door to the backseat to drop her duffle. After, she got into the driver’s seat. Eddie leaned onto her door for a second as she buckled her seatbelt. With one arm up to give them a light source, he glanced at her then, almost unconsciously, and added, “You.. be careful on your way home, okay?” 

She looked at him, and for a brief moment, she saw something deeper behind the tired, steady firefighter he tried to be. She could see concern. Care. Something he didn’t usually show. “I will,” she promised.

Eddie gently closed the door of her car. He didn’t rush. He stood there, arms relaxed, waiting until she started the engine. She opened her window. “I mean it,” he said softly, just before she pulled away. “If there’s anything wrong. Anything at all.. call. Don’t wait.”

She gave him a small nod, feeling the weight of his words. “I promise.” she said. And with that, she closed her window and left the parking lot. He watched her drive off, flashlight still in hand, until she disappeared around the corner. Eddie’s eyes lingered on the street long after her taillights faded.

______

The bell above the corner store door chimed softly as (Y/n) stepped back outside with a few groceries in a bag. The night air felt colder than before, maybe even quieter. 

She adjusted the weight of the bag in her hands and started walking towards her car, keys already threaded between her fingers. The streetlights flickered, casting uneven pools of light across the pavement.

Halfway down the block, something made her slow down in her steps. A man stood near the mouth of a narrow side street, half in shadow, half in light.

He wasn’t walking. He wasn’t looking around. He was waiting.

The shape of his face. The way his shoulders were set. The stillness that felt wrong in a city that never truly stopped moving. Her stomach dropped.

It’s him.

Her hand shook as she pulled out her phone. Eddie’s voice rang through her head as she was reminded of what he said a few minutes ago. “If there’s anything wrong. Anything at all.. call. Don’t wait.”

Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking, but she managed to tap Eddie’s contact and pressed her phone to her ear. The call rang, ringing once. Twice. Every second felt like minutes at this point. “Come on,” she whispered under her breath. 

The ringing stopped. “You’ve reached the voicemail of-”

“Shit,” she hissed, ending the call quickly. Her heart was pounding now, loud enough she was sure he could hear it. She turned away, pretending to scroll, and started walking faster toward the main street.

She didn’t wait. She couldn’t. So she called the one and only number that would pick up. She dialed 9-1-1.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a calm voice answered the phone. The sound of it made her chest tighten even more.

“May?” she whispered. There was a pause. “Yes? who is this?”

“It’s (Y/n),” she said quickly. “From Firehouse 118.” she added. “(Y/n)?” May’s voice sharpened with concern as soon as she realized who was on the other side of the line.. “What’s going on?” May asked. 

“I- I think I just saw him,” she said with a small stutter, while ducking behind a parked car, but her eyes never left the alley. “Jeffrey Hudson.” she whispered. 

May didn’t hesitate. “Okay. You did the right thing. Stay with me. Where are you?” she asked. (Y/n) gave the location, breathing shallow and fast. “I tried calling Eddie. He didn’t pick up.” she breathed. 

“It’s okay. I’m here now,” May said firmly. “Can you see him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Can you get visual confirmation? A photo, maybe?” May asked her now. (Y/n) hesitated, but then slowly lifted her phone. She opened the camera app, and made sure Jeffrey was in the picture. Then, when she clicked to take a picture, the flash went off.

White light exploded through the dark. Her blood turned cold. She put her hand with the phone down, “Oh God. May, I-” She choked on her words. She peeked around the car, to check if he was still there. But the moment she looked, he was gone. And that’s when she turned and ran as fast as she could. Leaving her groceries where she had been.

“(Y/n), stay with me,” May said urgently. “What’s happening?” she continued, confused by the sounds she got through the phone. She didn’t answer. Her breath came in short gasps as she cut down the sidewalk, shoes slapping hard against the concrete. She glanced back once.The alley was empty.

Her pulse spiked as she ran, but then she looked forward again and nearly collided with him, but stopped in time. Her eyes were full of terror. He was right there in front of her. He knew what she’d done. 

She stumbled back, the phone slipping from her hand in her movement. The phone hit the ground with a sharp crack, skidding across the pavement. The screen fractured, but stayed lit. “(Y/n)?” May’s voice echoed faintly from the speaker. “(Y/n), talk to me!”

She scrambled for the phone, fingers brushing the broken screen. A hand grabbed a fist full of her hair, she screamed it out. Fighting, kicking. Anything to try and break free from him.

The call stayed connected, and the street went terrifyingly quiet. May heard everything.

-

The engine rolled back into the station just after midnight.

The bay doors lifted slowly, rubber of the tires groaning as the truck eased inside. The noise of the city dulled as soon as the doors shut behind them, replaced by the familiar echo of boots on concrete.

“Alright,” Bobby said, already unbuckling. “Keep your gear close. We could get another call any second.” he ordered as he placed his turnout gear in the turnout rack. 

Buck hopped down first, tugging his jacket free and tossing it toward the rack. Chimney followed, rolling his shoulders as he walked. Hen pulled off her gloves, exhaustion written over her face.

Eddie climbed out last. As his boots hit the floor, he reached into his pocket out of habit. His phone buzzed softly as the screen lit up.

One missed call. (Y/n).

His breath caught in his throat as he read her name. He stared at the screen, thumb hovering. She never called this late unless something was wrong. He turned slightly away from the others, already lifting the phone to start and dialing the number…

The radio crackled.

“One eighteen… this is dispatch.” May’s voice cut through the bay.

Everyone froze. Bobby’s head snapped up. “Dispatch, this is Captain Nash. Go ahead.” he spoke into his radio.

There was a brief pause. Static. Then.. “Captain Nash,” May said, her voice controlled but strained, “we need you back out immediately.” she continued.

Eddie stopped moving, “What’s going on?” Bobby asked, while his team gathered around him. “We received a 9-1-1 call,” May said. “From (Y/n).” The words were like a hit to the face.

Buck turned sharply, grabbing his radio and brought it to his mouth. “From (Y/n)?” he asked, confused. “Yes,” May confirmed. “She reported a possible sighting of Jeffrey Hudson.”

The name sucked the air out of the room. Hen’s hand flew to her mouth. Chimney swore under his breath. Eddie’s grip tightened around his phone, his eyes were locked onto the floor as he focussed on the conversation.

“Where is she now?” Bobby asked, voice steady. Noise took over the conversation as the other side of the line was silent. “We lost contact.” May spoke again, but this time quieter. 

 “The call is still open,” May added quickly. “Her phone was dropped, but the line is open.” Bobby’s jaw tightened. “What did you hear?” he asked, genuinely concerned for her. 

May swallowed, they could hear it. “She was running,” she said. “She screamed. There was a struggle.”

Eddie’s vision tunneled. The missed call glared back at him from the screen. “One call…” he whispered, so softly no one heard. 

Bobby didn’t hesitate. “Dispatch, send us the phone’s last known location. Notify LAPD and Athena Grant immediately. We’re responding.” Bobby was already walking back towards the turnout rack. “Copy that, Captain Nash” May replied. “Be careful.”

Bobby turned to the team. “Gear up. Now.” he said, and with that he grabbed his helmet from the rack. No one needed to be told twice.

Eddie shoved his phone back into his pocket, hands shaking as he grabbed his jacket again. She had called. And he hadn’t answered.

Red and blue lights lit up the street as the 118 pulled up.

The area was already closed to the public. Police cars lined the curb, officers were moving through the shadows with their flashlights raised. Athena stood near the center of it all, phone pressed to her ear. 

The engine doors flew open. Bobby was the first out, and moved towards his wife determined. “Athena,” he spoke up. She turned at the sound of his voice, relief flickering across her face for just a moment before reality settled back in. “Bobby.” They didn’t hug, there wasn’t time for that yet. Bobby searched her face instead.

Eddie, together with Chim, Hen and Buck were close behind him, his eyes scanning the street. His chest felt tight, breath shallow. This was the place. He knew it before anyone said a word.

“Any updates?” Bobby asked, while the group gathered behind Bobby. Athena shook her head. “Not yet. Dispatch is still tracing what they can. We know he was here.” Before Bobby could respond, a voice cut through the night.

“Sergeant Grant?” An officer walked over, holding something carefully in gloved hands. “We found a phone.” he said, holding up the phone. 

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. Athena stepped forward instantly. “Where?” she asked. “About half a block down,” the officer said. “In an alley between the street and a small parking lot. The screen cracked, but it was still on when we picked it up. There’s an open line.” he answered. 

Athena took the phone. The glass was shattered, fractured so badly it was hard to tell where one crack ended and another began. But the screen still glowed faintly. 911 — Connected

“She called,” Athena said quietly. “She saw him.” She connected the dots. 

Eddie closed his eyes for half a second. She’d listened. She called him, and when he didn’t answer she called 9-1-1.

Athena lifted it to her ear. “May?”

There was a pause. Then “Mom?” May’s voice came through the phone, it was thin but steady. “I’m still on.” Athena closed her eyes for a brief second. Eddie stood a few feet away, unmoving, watching her face.

“Tell me what you heard,” Athena said. May swallowed. “She called in because she recognized him. She was trying to get a picture. I heard footsteps-” May hesitated for a moment to finish her sentence. “I heard her scream, I heard her fight. And then the phone dropped.”

Athena’s jaw tightened. “I could hear her breathing,” May continued quietly. “She was scared. But she was fighting. The line stayed open.”

Eddie’s chest tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

“She did everything right,” Athena said, voice low but firm. “You did too.” She lowered the phone, handed it carefully back to the officer. “Get this to tech. Preserve everything.”

Then she turned, already in command. “Start canvassing,” Athena said, already turning away. “Every street, every alley. I want cameras checked, witnesses questioned. He didn’t vanish into thin air.”

Officers moved immediately, radios crackling as they spread out. Bobby stayed beside Athena, close enough to hear, far enough not to interfere.

The 118 lingered near the engines, watching the street empty and fill again with motion. Eddie paced once, then forced himself to stop. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides as he leaned against the fire engine, eyes fixed on the darkened alley where the phone had been found.

She had been here. She had been so close.

Minutes passed. No updates. No leads.

Then Buck’s voice broke through the noise. “Cap.” he called out. Bobby turned. “What’ve you got?” he asked. Buck jogged over, “We found her car.” he said, out of breath. 

Eddie’s head snapped up. “It’s parked a street over,” Buck continued. “Driver’s door unlocked. Keys missing.” he added. 

That was when Eddie lost it. “No,” he said sharply, shaking his head. “No- she wouldn’t-” he stumbled over his words. He turned and slammed his fist into the side of the fire engine.

The clang rang out, loud and violent in the quiet night. Everyone froze. Hen stared at him. Chim took a step forward, then hesitated. Buck stopped short, guilt flashing across his face. Eddie stood there, chest heaving, knuckles pressed white against the steel.

“She called,” Eddie said, voice breaking despite his effort to hold it together. “She was right here.” tears pricking in his eyes. 

Athena watched him carefully, grief and fury mixing in her eyes. “We’re still in this,” she said firmly. “We don’t stop now.” Then Bobby stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We will find her,” Bobby said. “But we need you with us.” he continued, trying to make eye contact with him.

Eddie looked down, but slowly let his eyes wander to meet Bobby’s, and nodded once. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Somewhere in the darkness beyond the blocked street, time kept moving.

______

Harry’s legs were numb.

He didn’t know how long he’d been hiding under the car. Only that the asphalt pressed cold into his hands and every breath felt too loud. He squeezed his eyes shut whenever footsteps passed, counting silently, trying not to think.

Then the footsteps came back. Slower this time.

Harry’s eyes snapped open, he saw her shoes first, they were scraping against the asphalt. Then her knees buckled, and Jeffrey Hudson yanked her upright by a fistful of her hair.

She gasped, not a scream, just a sharp, pained breath and Harry’s heart slammed so hard it hurt. “Who are you?” the man asked calmly, like he wasn’t hurting her at all. But she didn’t answer. Her hands were wrapped around his wrist, trying to loosen his grip, jaw clenched tight. When she looked at him, her eyes were burning. She looked almost angry. 

Jeffrey laughed quietly. “Nothing to say?” he said. She spat at his feet. Harry bit down on his sleeve to keep himself from making a sound.

Jeffrey’s expression darkened. He shoved her harshly closer to the Jeep that was parked on the small parking lot, keeping her trapped between his body and the open door. With one arm pressed against her collarbones, he reached with his free hand into the pocket of her jacket.

“No-” she protested, twisting, trying anything to break free, but he was already pulling something free. A keychain. A small metal shield. 118 etched into the surface.

Jeffrey tilted his head. “Ah, a firefighter,” he said slowly. “That’s interesting.” he added in a low voice. Her eyes flicked, just for a second toward the cars lining the street, searching for Harry. Jeffrey followed her gaze. “Oh,” he murmured. “Yeah, you’re not alone.”

Harry’s chest seized. Jeffrey’s arm moved now, and slid around her neck, not choking, but just tight enough to trap her, to make sure she couldn’t move. She was now with her back pressed against his chest, stiffened as she breathed fast, her hands grabbing at his sleeve.

“Listen carefully,” Jeffrey said, voice low but clear. “You come out now, and I let her go.” he continued, calling over the parking lot. Jeffrey and (Y/n) both didn’t spot him yet. 

Harry shook his head violently, tears blurring his vision. (Y/n) shook her head too, small, desperate. Begging Harry to not listen to him if he was still there.

Jeffrey sighed, like he was disappointed. “Otherwise,” he continued, reaching into his pocket, “I don’t have much choice…” he said. The knife caught the flickering streetlight as it appeared in his hand.

Harry stopped breathing. Jeffrey pressed the flat of the blade near her throat. Not cutting, but just close enough that Harry could see her swallow hard. “Harry,” Jeffrey called out softly. “I know you’re here.” 

Harry sobbed. 

“I said come out.” Jeffrey was losing his patience. “I-” Harry’s voice broke as he crawled out from beneath the car. “I’m here. Please. I’m here.” Harry begged, his voice on the edge of breaking, his hands slightly up. 

Jeffrey smiled, “There you are.” he said. 

The knife disappeared. Harry slowly walked forward, but before he could reach her, Jeffrey moved. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and pressed it hard over her mouth and nose.

Her eyes widened in shock. She tried to twist away, tried to fight, hands weak as they pushed against his arm.

“No!” Harry screamed as he realized what Jeffrey was doing. 

Her movements slowed, her grip loosened and after a few seconds, her knees gave out. Jeffrey caught her easily as she went limp, her body slack against his chest.

“No, no, no,” Harry cried, reaching for her. “Wake up! Please!” Jeffrey turned to him, expression cold again. “You did exactly what I asked.” he said. He opened the back of the Jeep and laid her inside carefully, almost gently, before grabbing Harry by the arm. “Get in.”

Harry clung to her hand as he was pushed beside her, shaking her shoulder, begging her to wake up. She didn’t.

The hatch slammed shut. Harry moved toward her, sobbing quietly as the car started moving, the engine’s vibration humming through the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over. “I’m so sorry.” he cried softly

-

Darkness came back in pieces.

Her head throbbed as consciousness crept in slowly. Her neck hurt at the place where Jeffrey had dug the knife into her skin. (Y/n) tried to move, and hissed when pain shot through her arms. 

She tried to pull her arm harder, but then she realized was tied. Rope dug into her wrists, binding them behind her back. Her shoulders screamed in protest as she shifted, the chair beneath her wobbling slightly. 

“H- Harry?” she whispered, her voice cracking. A sharp intake of breath behind her. “I’m here,” Harry said quickly, too quickly. His back was pressed to hers. She could feel him trembling. 

Relief flooded inside her chest, he’s still here. “Are you okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low. 

“I- I think so.” Harry stumbled. The sound of metal hitting the ground grew louder as she came back to reality. Jeffrey was outside. She could hear him now, boots against dirt, the steady rhythm of a shovel being driven into the ground.

Digging. Her stomach dropped at the realization of what he was doing. He was for sure not planting flowers. 

“Harry,” she said softly, keeping her voice steady even as panic clawed at her ribs. “Listen to me. You have to stay calm.” she tried to convince him. 

He was breathing hard, sounding dangerously close to something like a panic attack. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m scared.” he sniffled. 

“I know,” she said. “I am too. But we’re going to get out of here, okay?” Her head shot back towards the backdoor as another door creaked somewhere in the distance. Then silence. Just the sound of the shovel again.

She twisted her wrists slowly, testing the rope. It burned. But it shifted just a little. “Can you move your hands?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said after a second. “A bit.”

“Good. Rub the rope against the chair. As hard as you can. Don’t stop.” They worked in silence, breath heavy, focussed on one thing at a time. Every scrape of the shovel made her heart pound faster, but she didn’t stop. 

And finally the rope gave in. Harry gasped as his hands came free. A second later, (Y/n) felt the tension around her wrists loosen too. 

Her hands were free, but the rope around her chest still held her tight, cutting off her breath every time she moved. She forced herself to slow down, even as panic clawed at her throat, this psycho could enter the house any second.

Pulling the rope wouldn’t work, she’d already tried that. So instead, she hooked her fingers beneath the binding at her side and worked it upward, inch by inch. The pressure burned, her arms going numb as it scraped over her ribs.

She leaned forward, twisting her shoulder carefully, then more urgently when the pain spiked. Her breath stuttered, her vision blurred a bit, and then one arm slipped free from the rope.

She wrenched the other shoulder forward and tore herself loose, gasping as the pressure finally broke.

She turned immediately, crawling toward Harry despite the ache in her limbs. She cupped his face gently, forcing him to look at her. “Hey. You’re doing so good,” she whispered. “I’ve got you now.” she promised him. 

His eyes filled with tears. “I- I can’t-” he whispered, stumbling. “Yes, you can,” she said, even though her hands were still shaking. “You already are.”

Her fingers worked quickly at the rope around his wrists. She tries to undo the knot the psycho had made, but it’s tight. “Almost there,” she murmured. “Just a little longer.” she added, and suddenly she managed to break open the knot. 

Harry sobbed quietly as his hands came free “We’re not done,” she whispered. “But we’re not giving up. Not now.” she said as she got out the knot from the rope around his chest. 

Harry stood up from the chair, she placed her hand onto his shoulder. “Eyes on me, okay? Follow me.” she said. Harry nodded at her words, and did what she told her. 

Every sound felt too loud inside this house. Breaths, footsteps, the creak of the floor beneath them. “Don’t stop running.” she whispered. “No matter what.” she told Harry. 

They burst through the front door, and the night swallowed them whole. No streetlights. No houses. No sounds of traffic. Just open land stretching endlessly in every direction.

Her heart sank as she realized where she was. The middle of nowhere.

“Run,” she said instantly, shoving Harry forward. “Harry, run!” But it was already too late.

Jeffrey stepped into view from the side of the house, calm and deliberate, a shovel still hanging loosely from his hand like this had all been part of the plan. His head tilted, eyes lighting up when he saw them. “Well,” he said lightly. “Look at that.”

(Y/n) didn’t think, she moved.

Her fist collided with his jaw hard enough to make her bones ache. He staggered half a step, surprise flashing across his face just before she drove her knee up into his groin.

For a split second, hope sparked. Then he just laughed. A sharp, ugly sound that made her blood run cold. “Oh, I like you,” he said, eyes wild. “I really do.”

His fist connected with her side of the head, brutal and sudden. She went down hard, the impact knocking the air clean from her lungs. She gasped. Stars exploded behind her eyes, still conscious, still aware, maybe too aware.. of his boots moving closer.

“Harry run!” she tried to shout, but it came out broken. The boy just stood there, too scared to run away. Jeffrey grabbed her arm and yanked her up just enough to make her cry out. His gaze never left Harry.

“Don’t-” she screamed. “Don’t you touch him!” she choked on her words, the mix of trying to catch her breath and hurt. 

That was when his hand closed around her throat. Tight. Crushing. Her feet barely touched the ground as the world narrowed to pressure and panic. She clawed at his wrist, vision dimming, a roaring sound filling her ears. Then he dropped her.

She hit the dirt on her hands and knees, coughing violently, dragging air into her lungs like it might disappear again if she didn’t fight for it. She didn’t have time to recover.

His arm locked around her neck from behind, hauling her upright. Something cold pressed against her temple. Click. The sound was unmistakable.

A gun.

Jeffrey leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “You take one more step,” he said to Harry, voice almost cheerful, “and I’ll blow her head off.”

(Y/n) shook her head weakly, tears streaking down her face as she struggled to breathe. “Harry… don’t…” she cried. At least one of them should make it out alive. 

Harry froze. Hands shaking. Eyes wide. Terror projected on his face.

“Good,” Jeffrey said. “That’s a smart kid.”

He shoved the gun harder against her head and grabbed her arm again, fingers digging in painfully. “Come on,” he said, pulling her onto her feet, “I’ve been working on something special.” he added as he was already dragging them forward. 

(Y/n) stumbled beside him, barely staying upright, her body screaming in protest, but her eyes never left Harry.

The ground changed beneath their feet.

Loose dirt. Uneven. The smell hit her next, metal and oil and something damp that turned her stomach. Jeffrey slowed, clearly enjoying the way her steps slowed down at the sight. “There we are,” he said.

The hole yawned open in front of them, jagged and deep, freshly dug. Beside it stood an oil drum, upright now, its rusted sides catching the faint spill of moonlight. Another shovel leaned against it, dirt still clinging to the blade.

(Y/n)’s chest tightened. “No,” she whispered, the word tearing out of her. Jeffrey tightened his grip on her arm and turned his head just enough to look at Harry. “You’re going to do exactly what I say,” he told him calmly. “And she stays breathing.”

Harry nodded frantically, tears streaking down his face. Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of zip ties. He grabbed (Y/n)’s wrists, forcing them together in front of her, pulling the plastic tight until it bit into her skin. She cried out but didn’t fight. She couldn’t risk it now.

“Get in,” he said, letting go of her arm and jerking his chin toward the drum. “I’m not-” Her voice broke. “I’m not getting in there.” There was a small trembling in her voice as she said those words. 

Jeffrey sighed, almost bored. He yanked Harry toward him, shoving the gun under the boy’s chin. “That’s a shame,” he said lightly. “Because I was hoping you’d make this easy. And it would be awful if he went through all of this just to bleed out right now.”

Harry sobbed, frozen, eyes closed as the metal pressed against his skin. (Y/n)’s heart shattered. “Okay,” she choked out. “Okay! don’t- please. I’ll do it.”

Jeffrey smiled. He released Harry just long enough to shove her toward the drum. She stumbled, catching herself on the rim, the metal cold beneath her palms. Her breaths came fast and shallow as she turned back once. Just once.

“Harry,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “Look at me.” He did. “You listen to him,” she whispered. “You do whatever he says. I’m right here.” she told him.

He shook his head, terrified. “I don’t want-” before he could finish his words, she cut him off. “I know,” she said softly. “But you’re strong. You can do this.”

The oil drum loomed in front of her, rusted and waiting. Jeffrey tightened his grip on her arm, impatient. “Get in.”

Her hands were bound in front of her, wrists burning, but as she stumbled forward her fingers brushed against her sleeve. Something familiar pressed into her palm. Her bracelet. Thin. Worn. The one she never took off.

Her heart stuttered. She didn’t look down. Didn’t hesitate long enough for it to matter. She loosened her fingers and let it slip. It fell soundlessly into the dirt, half-hidden beneath loose soil near the edge of the hole.

Jeffrey shoved her forward before she could say another word. “Inside.”

She climbed into the drum, every movement heavy, deliberate. The metal was cold against her skin as she curled in on herself, knees tight to her chest. The lid slammed shut.

Darkness swallowed her whole, thick and absolute. The sound echoed inside the metal, vibrating through her bones as the drum tipped and rolled into place. She cried out when it landed, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

Then, voices. Muffled. Distorted through layers of steel. Jeffrey’s came first. Calm. Too calm. “Grab the shovel.” he commanded. 

Her heart seized. “No..” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. There was a pause. Then another sound, small, uneven. It was Harry’s breathing. “I said help me,” Jeffrey continued, sharper now. “Unless you want her to stop making noise.”

Her chest tightened painfully. She pressed her forehead against her knees, tears spilling freely as she listened to the scrape of metal against dirt. The shovel biting into the ground.

Each thud of soil hitting the drum made her flinch. “I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over again, to Harry, to herself. “I’m so sorry.”

_______

They didn’t find him by chasing addresses.  They found him because Jeffrey Hudson wanted to be found.

The Jeep showed up on traffic cameras first, rolling through the city like it had nowhere to be and all the time in the world. “Vehicle sighted on Fifth and Alameda,” dispatch said over the radio. Athena adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “Copy. Keep eyes on it.”

Silence stretched over the radio as the engine followed behind her, the city dark and tense around them. “He’s not heading out,” Buck said from the back of the engine, watching the map update on the console. “He’s looping back.” he concluded. 

Eddie leaned forward in his seat. “He wants eyes on him.” 

“He wants control.” Bobby said, as he stared at the map and noticed the pattern.

They cut the sirens three blocks out. The street was empty… a warehouse district, long stretches of cracked asphalt and boarded-up buildings. No civilians. No witnesses. Jeffrey stood under a broken streetlight, just enough to be seen clearly. Waiting. 

Eddie barely waited for the engine to come to a full stop. The door swung open and he jumped down onto the ground, boots hitting the floor hard. His chest felt too tight, breath coming sharp and shallow as adrenaline burned through him. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms like he could anchor himself through the pain.

He needed answers.

Every second without them felt like something was clawing its way out of his chest. Rage, fear, grief all mixed together, impossible to hide anymore. His jaw locked, teeth grinding as he stared ahead, eyes searching for anything, anyone who could tell him where she was. Control had never felt so far away as it did now. He flexed his hands once, then let them curl again, harder this time. If he didn’t move, if he didn’t do something, he was going to explode.

And he wasn’t sure who would be standing in front of him when that happened.

Eddie took two steps forward before he realized he was moving. His vision tunneled, the noise of the scene blurring into a dull roar. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles ached. 

He needed answers, and he needed them now.

“Eddie.” Bobby’s voice cut through the fog. Eddie didn’t slow. Didn’t look back. A hand closed around Eddie’s arm. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t restraining, but solid. Anchoring. Eddie stopped short, chest heaving as his gaze snapped forward. Jeffrey.

Something dark and feral ignited behind Eddie’s eyes as he locked onto him. Jeffrey’s gaze found Eddie just as easily, and he just smiled.

Oh, he enjoyed this. The fear. The desperation. The way it cracked through the people who loved them. He soaked it in.

Bobby stepped in front of him, pressing a hand to Eddie’s chest to keep him back, forcing Eddie to meet his eyes. There was urgency there but also something else. Understanding. He knew this kind of fear. Knew what it did to a man. “Not like this,” Bobby said quietly.

Eddie swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “I can’t just stand here,” he shot back, voice raw. “She’s out there and he’s-” 

“I know,” Bobby cut him off, just as quietly. “And that’s exactly why you need to slow down.” Eddie shook his head, a harsh, frustrated motion. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides. Bobby leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Eddie could hear. “Let Athena handle this.”

“She doesn’t need you losing control right now,” Bobby continued. “And you don’t need to live with what happens if you do.” Eddie’s breath stuttered. His fists tightened again, then slowly, painfully, loosened. His shoulders sagged just a fraction.

Bobby kept his hand on Eddie’s arm for another second, grounding him. “Stay with us,” he said. “We’re closer than you think.”

Athena stepped forward, weapon raised, voice calm and commanding. “Jeffrey Hudson. Hands where I can see them.” She spoke. Jeffrey lifted one hand slowly, but the other stayed in his pocket.

“You’re late,” he said mildly. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” he continued, sounding playfully. 

Eddie’s vision tunneled. “Where are they?” he shouted. “Where did you leave them?” His voice was raw. Jeffrey tilted his head. “That depends,” he said. “How much do you want to know?” another disgusting smile appeared on his face. 

“Jeffrey,” Athena warned. But he ignored her. Instead, he pulled something from his pocket. A phone, his phone. 

Eddie’s heart slammed against his chest as he was focussed on the object in his hand. 

Jeffrey tapped the screen, then turned it outward. “Thought you’d like to see,” he said. The video started playing. It was dark. Shaky. Poor quality. But unmistakable.

The sound came first. Harry’s breathing, it was fast, shallow, terrified. The screen showed a dimly lit room. Bare walls. A single chair, and Harry was tied to it.

Alive. Awake.

Buck swore softly. Hen’s hand flew to her mouth.

His eyes were wide, darting off-screen like he was watching something terrible happen just out of view. And then the camera shifted. (Y/n) was slumped in another chair, back to back. Only, she was unconscious. Her head lolled forward, hair falling into her face, wrists bound tightly behind her back. She didn’t move. Didn’t react.

Eddie felt like the ground dropped out from underneath him. “She’s- ” Buck whispered. “She’s not-” Buck could barely speak after the footage he just saw. “She’s breathing,” Hen said quickly, though her voice shook. “Look, her chest is moving.” Hen said quickly, her voice shaking. 

Buck looked at her, desperate. “How do you know?” he asked, his eyes glued to the small screen Jeffrey was holding. Hen leaned closer. “Watch.. there. That slight movement. It’s rhythmic. Not random.” she explained.

Jeffrey shifted the phone, the image warping for a second.

“She’s not completely still,” Hen continued, forcing calm into her voice. “If she wasn’t breathing, there’d be no pattern. No pause. She’s alive.”

Harry whimpered softly on the screen. “Please,” he said. “Please don’t hurt her.” he begged him. Jeffrey’s voice came from behind the camera. Smooth. Amused. “She’s fine..” he said. “For now.”

Eddie couldn’t look away. She looked smaller than he’d ever seen her. Helpless in a way that didn’t make sense. 

Athena went perfectly still, but her grip tightened on her weapon. Jeffrey watched them all with interest. “See? I keep my promises. Mostly.”

“Turn it off,” Athena said, voice dangerously low.

Jeffrey didn’t. Instead, the video shifted—Harry flinching as a harsh sound echoed nearby. Something heavy. Something being moved.

“Stop,” Athena said again. Jeffrey finally looked at her. “You shoot me,” he said calmly, “and you’ll never find them in time.”

Eddie lunged. It took everything the 118 had to keep him back. His heart was hammering, breath coming too fast, too loud. “You don’t get to show that,” Eddie snarled. “You don’t get to-”

Jeffrey raised the phone slightly higher. The video cut to black. Silence slammed down hard.

Athena kept her weapon trained on Jeffrey, her stance solid, unwavering. He stood a few feet away, hands still raised, but his smile hadn’t faded. “You see?” he said calmly. “I told you. They’re alive.”

Eddie took a step forward before he realized he was moving. “Don’t,” Athena warned quietly, never taking her eyes off Jeffrey.

Jeffrey’s gaze slid past her. Straight to Eddie. “She’s something…” he said, almost conversational. “Not like the others. She doesn’t break easy.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “What did you do to her?” Eddie demanded. Jeffrey chuckled softly. “Relax. I like her too much for that.”

That did it.

Eddie surged forward. Buck and Chim grabbed him instantly, hauling him back as Eddie struggled violently, rage rushing through him. “You don’t get to talk about her,” Eddie snarled, teeth bared. “You don’t get to say her name.”

Jeffrey only smiled wider. “She fought me,” he continued, unfazed. “Kicked. Hit. Looked at me like she thought she could win.” He shook his head, almost impressed. “I like that fire.”

“Shut up,” Athena snapped, gun unwavering. “Now.” Jeffrey glanced at her, then back to Eddie. “You should be proud. She didn’t stop protecting the kid. Not once.”

Eddie went still. Too still. And Athena noticed. 

“So where are they?” she asked, voice deadly calm. “Because if you think this ends with you walking away, you’re wrong.” she continued. Jeffrey tilted his head, considering. “I left them somewhere quiet. Peaceful.” he answered. 

“Where,” Athena repeated. He sighed, like she was boring him. “Safe. For now...” Athena was growing more impatient at the vague answers he gave her. “That’s not an answer.” 

Jeffrey’s eyes flicked briefly to his jacket. “She used what time she had,” he said softly. “Made sure the boy stayed calm. Even when she couldn’t.”

Athena stepped closer. Jeffrey’s smile lingered just a second too long, and that was when Athena’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Enough,” she said. “Last chance.”

His hand twitched. Athena didn’t shout. Didn’t even warn him again. The shot echoed sharp and final through the empty street. Jeffrey stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face for the first, and last time. The phone slipped from his hand as he collapsed to the pavement, unmoving.

Silence crashed down around them. Eddie stood frozen, breath ragged, eyes locked on the body. His knees nearly gave out as Buck loosened his grip, steadying him.

Athena stood motionless, gun still raised. After a long moment, she lowered it. “It’s over,” she said quietly.

But Eddie couldn’t look away from the phone lying face-up on the ground. The screen was still lit. Still showing her. Alive.

The radio crackled, “Captain Nash,” May’s voice broke through, urgent and shaking. “Captain, I traced the metadata on the video upload.” Bobby grabbed the radio that was attached to his turnout coat, “Go ahead.”

“It pinged off a private network,” May said. “An abandoned property. No power. No utilities. It’s… it’s far out. Middle of nowhere.” she continued.

Eddie’s heart dropped, Athena closed her eyes. “He left them,” she said. But Bobby straightened. “Send the location.” he told May on the other side of the line.

Coordinates came through. 

Eddie was already moving toward the truck. Jeffrey Hudson was dead.

But Eddie had never been more afraid in his life. Because the clock hadn’t stopped. And somewhere far away, buried in darkness, she was still fighting.

______

When the team arrived, the house looked dead.

That was the first thing Eddie noticed as the trucks rolled to a stop. No lights, no movement, no sound. Just a sagging structure sitting alone against the dark stretch of land, swallowed by dirt and weeds and silence.

“This is it,” Athena said quietly.

They moved fast. Bobby kicked the door in without hesitation. Dust and stale air rushed out to meet them, thick and sour. Flashlights snapped on, beams slicing through the darkness.

“Split up,” Bobby ordered. “Careful.”

Eddie’s heart pounded so hard it hurt, but in the moment because of the adrenaline, he couldn’t even feel it. Every second felt wrong, like they were moving too slow, too heavy. His eyes scanned every corner, every wall, every shadow.

“Harry!” Buck called. “Harry, it’s Buck! Can you hear me?” he called out through the house. But nothing, no reaction of some kind.

Inside, the house was worse than it looked outside. Bare walls. Scratched floors. No furniture. Just emptiness, and the sense that someone had been very careful about it.

Hen stopped suddenly. “Bobby.” She pointed to the wall. Something wasn’t right. The plaster was uneven. Fresh. Poorly done, like it had been rushed. Buck was beside her instantly. “Oh God.” he mumbled.

They tore into it with their hands at first, then tools plaster cracking, dust filling the air. “Harry!” Bobby shouted, voice breaking as he used one of the tools to break the plaster. They found him folded into the space behind the wall, barely big enough to breathe in. Unconscious. Still.

Hen dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she checked his pulse. “He’s alive,” she said hoarsely. “He’s alive.” she repeated one more time, maybe to reassure herself even more than the others. 

Relief slammed into Eddie so hard his vision blurred, but it didn’t last. Because she wasn’t there. The team had Harry, but Eddie’s stomach twisted like a knife.

Eddie turned away, “He wouldn’t keep them together,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Bobby, Hen, Chim, and Athena were all focused on Harry, taking his vitals and checking if he had any major injuries. His eyes darted to Eddie once, then away, still in shock. None of them had time to think about where (Y/n) could be.

Eddie and Buck moved outside, the night air was thick and still. They moved slowly, flashlights slicing through the darkness, hands shielding their eyes from the glare. Sand crunched under their boots. Every shadow felt like a trap. Every beam of light seemed to reveal nothing. “Nothing,” Buck said, frustration heavy in his voice. “It’s like she vanished.” he added.

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “He wouldn’t keep them together,” he repeated, low. His grip on the flashlight was white-knuckled. “He couldn’t.”

They continued, desperate, scanning the ground. 

Then, a flash. A tiny glint reflecting in the beam. Eddie froze. Heart hammering. He bent down. It was her bracelet. The one she had left behind, near the hole. The one now half-buried under the loose dirt covering the oil drum, only they didn’t know it yet.

Without a word, Eddie let his foot tap the dirt. At first, there was nothing weird to be heard. But then, after a few times, there was a change of the sound. It sounded like metal.

“Buck,” he breathed, urgency cutting through his calm. Eddie let himself fall onto his knees, and started digging, investigating the thing he found. It couldn’t be… could it?

As soon as Eddie realized he was digging for a oil drum, he knew. “I’ve got her!” Eddie called out. Buck didn’t need to be told twice. He was at his side in an instant, helping dig with hands and flashlight, working quickly but carefully.

While Buck and Eddie were digging, Buck grabbed the radio that was attached to his jacket. “Bobby! We found her!” he barked, voice cracking with relief and tension. “Copy!” came Bobby’s voice, sharp and urgent. “We’re on our way!”

Minutes dragged like hours. Dirt spilled over their boots. Sand and soil clung to their sleeves. But finally, the top of the drum appeared. The drum was cold under his hands, metal biting into his palms as he pried it open.

Eddie’s heart sank at the sight of her. She was curled inside, dust and dirt coating her, wrists still bound, chest barely moving. Every instinct screamed, she needed him now.

“Cut the ties,” he commanded Buck, his voice low but razor-sharp. Buck worked quickly, metal snipping against zip ties. Eddie’s hands hovered, trembling with barely contained panic.

The moment her hands were free, Eddie knelt beside the barrel, hands gripping the rim like his life depended on it. Her small, trembling form inside looked fragile, a shadow of the person he knew, coated in dust and sweat.

“Hang on,” he murmured, voice low but urgent. Buck steadied the drum, while Eddie pressed his hands carefully under her armpits, fingers digging into her ribs just enough to lift without causing more pain. 

“Got you,” he murmured, voice low but fierce, as he braced his legs and lifted.

Her dust-covered body was heavier than he expected, every ounce of it aching in his arms. He could feel the tension in her muscles, the stiffness from being trapped, the way she trembled even before she was fully conscious.

Step by careful step, he raised her higher, the drum scraping faintly against the dirt. Her head lolled slightly against his shoulder; he tilted it gently, whispering, “I’ve got you… you’re okay.”

Finally, he swung her fully free, lifting her out of the barrel and onto solid ground. He didn’t let go. Arms still wrapped around her, Eddie eased her down onto her back. Eddie dropped to his knees beside her. He tilted her head back gently, pinching her nose, sealing his lips over hers. He blew a sharp breath into her lungs, counting silently in his mind.

Nothing.

He tried again. Still shallow.

“Come on, come on, come on…” he muttered, teeth gritted. His fingers pressed harder on her chest, measuring rhythm, forcing life back into her. Heart pounding, adrenaline and fear twisting into raw urgency. 

The sound of hurried footsteps cut through the night, crunching on sand and dirt. Chim came running, flashlight swinging in one hand, Hen hot on his heels. Bobby’s deep voice followed behind them. Eddie barely noticed. His world had shrunk to her fragile form beneath him, every second critical.

Then, her chest rose slightly. A tiny, fragile movement. Eddie’s heart hitched. He pressed another breath into her, waited. And then, a gasp followed. Sharp and desperate.

She coughed, hacking, eyes fluttering open. Recognition. Fear. Relief all crashing at once. “Eddie…” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

His arms were wrapped tight around her, pressing her close as tears streaked his face. “I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you.” Her hands clutched at the back of his coat, shoving away dirt and dust, grounding herself to the only thing that felt real. Her sobs shook her body violently, the sound raw and ragged, carrying every second of terror and pain she had endured.

Eddie held her tighter, whispering fragments between breaths. Every sob wracked her chest, and his chest ached in response. He could feel her heartbeat under his palm. It was slow, fragile, but steadying.

For a long moment, there was no sound but her sobs and his ragged breathing, the two of them in the dark, metal-stained world of the oil drum, finding each other again. “You’re okay now,” Eddie said, voice breaking. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

​​Hen knelt beside them, flashlight steady, checking her vitals. Chim exhaled sharply, relief heavy in the air. Bobby’s hand landed briefly on Eddie’s shoulder, grounding him, letting him know the team was there, but Eddie didn’t move. He couldn’t. 

______

Daylight came through the blinds in thin lines. It hurt her eyes at first. Her head was throbbing, a dull ache that made her groan softly as she shifted against the pillows. “Hey… easy,” a familiar voice said immediately.

Her gaze wandered to her left. It was Eddie.

He was still in his uniform, strikes of dirt across the fabric, his sleeves pushed up, dark circles under his eyes, but he was smiling. It was small and careful, like he was afraid to startle her.

She blinked a few times, grounding herself. The hospital room came into focus, the beeping monitor breaking through the noise. The realization of the IV attached to her hand, the quiet. 

“You’re okay,” Eddie said gently, reading the panic that flickered across her face. “Jeffrey’s dead. And… Harry’s safe.” Her breath left her in a shaky rush. “Harry?” she asked, needing the double check to see if he was okay. 

“He’s okay,” Eddie repeated. “Scared. But okay.”

She lifted a hand toward her head without thinking. Eddie caught her wrist instantly, gentle but firm. “Don’t. You’ve got a nasty cut on the side of your face.” he said. Her eyes met his as he held her wrist. She let her hand drop, eyes never leaving his. For a moment she just stared at him, like she was trying to make sure he was real.

“…What?” Eddie asked quietly. “Were… were you here all night?” she asked. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed at the question, “What? No,” he said too quickly, shaking his head. “I mean..”

She gave him a look that said seriously? I know you’re lying.

He sighed, a corner of his mouth twitching. “Okay. Yes. I stayed. I couldn’t leave you… especially not after what happened last night.” he confessed.

Her lips curved faintly. Then something shifted in her expression. “I called you,” she said softly.

Eddie’s smile faded and his jaw tightened. “I know,” he admitted, guilt flashing across his face. “I saw it after. I..” He swallowed. “I keep thinking… if I’d picked up…”

“Eddie…” she said softly. He looked at her then. Really looked. “I should’ve answered,” he said, voice rough. “I was supposed to answer.”

“You couldn’t have known,” she said. “None of this is on you.” she continued. He shook his head once, sharp. “Doesn’t change how it feels.”

Silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Heavy.

“I heard you,” she said after a moment. “When I woke up. You were talking.”

His ears turned red instantly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

She gave a small, tired smile. “I’m glad I did.”

He hesitated, then reached for her hand. Slow, like he was asking permission. When she didn’t pull away, his fingers curled around hers, warm and steady. “I thought I lost you,” he said quietly.

The words landed harder than anything else. Her throat tightened. “I’m still here.” she said, looking at their hands, slightly glancing up to look at him, eyes meeting again.

That was when something shifted. Not all at once. Just… gently.

Eddie’s thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly. “You know,” he said after a beat, voice softer now, “you don’t listen worth a damn.” he said. 

Her brows furrowed faintly. “What?”

“I told you,” he said, glancing up at her, “if anything felt wrong, anything at all… you call. You don’t try to be a hero.” She huffed weakly. “You didn’t say that last sentence specifically.”

“Pretty sure I did…” he pointed out. She tilted her head slightly. “Okay, what was I supposed to do,” she asked softly, “pretend I didn’t see him?” 

That lets Eddie clock the familiar fire before smiling “There it is,” he said. “That look.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at his words. “What look?” she asked. “The ‘I’d do it again’ look.” Eddie said. She smiled despite herself. “You know me too well.”

The space between them felt different now. Her gaze wandered from his eyes to his mouth and back again. That did something to him. He leaned closer without realizing it, his voice dropping. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”

The space between them shrank. Too slow. Too deliberate. She felt his breath against her lips. Felt her pulse jump. “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, even as her eyes flicked down to his mouth.

Eddie tilted his head slightly, teasing, hovering just out of reach. “What?” he murmured. “This?” he teased. She swallowed. “We can’t..” she breathed heavily.

“You want me to stop?” he asked softly. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.” 

The words caught in her throat. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in. Eddie didn’t hesitate. The kiss was warm and unhurried, full of relief and everything they hadn’t said out loud. His hand slid instinctively to the back of her head, grounding her as if he needed to feel that she was really there. Alive. Safe.

The door creaked open. Neither of them noticed.

Harry’s voice sounded softly from the doorway. Athena froze mid-step. “Oop-” she said instantly, reaching out and gently covering Harry’s eyes with her hand. “Nope. Not yet. Definitely not yet.” she said.

Eddie pulled back, forehead resting against hers, breath uneven. His hand stayed at the back of her head for a moment, like letting go was impossible.

She laughed weakly. 

Eddie huffed. “We are never living this down.”

Buck’s voice came from the hallway. “I’m just saying, we almost lost her and this is how she wakes up? Iconic. Like straight from a movie.” Hen smiled softly. Chim shook his head, amused. Bobby just watched them with something close to relief written all over his face.

Eddie and (Y/n) parted, her hand pressing into the mattress. Eddie’s hand covering hers as Athena lowered her hand. “Okay,” she said gently. “You can look now.” Harry blinked, then smiled, small and shy. “You’re okay.”

She nodded, emotion tightening her throat. “I am.” she said, feeling Eddie squeezing her hand once, quiet promise in the gesture. Making her look to her left, meeting Eddie’s eyes once more. For the first time since the nightmare began, she felt safe.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A nurse pushed in a wheelchair. “Your friend is here to pick you up,” she said softly, and helped (Y/n) settle into it. She sat down carefully, her ribs still sore, and let herself be rolled down the hallway. 

As they pushed her down the hallway, she caught glimpses of families, flowers, soft beeping monitors and the world was slowly going back to normal around her. Buck stood waiting near the exit doors, a navy blue hoodie, hair slightly messy like he’d rushed over. He held a paper bag in one hand and when he saw her, he smiled wide.

“There she is!” he said, that familiar Buck warmth filling the space immediately. “Ready to bust out of this place?” he asked her. (Y/n) smiled, genuinely this time. “More than ready.” He handed the paper bag over. “Okay, so I didn’t know if you were craving snacks or comfort food, so I brought both. Also gum. Also chocolate. And more.” he said as he placed the bag on her lap. 

She laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to bring all this.” she said, looking up at the guy she saw more as a sibling than a co-worker. “Yeah, well,” he said, as he started pushing the wheelchair toward the elevator, “I’m known for my emotional support snacks.”

The wheelchair ride down to the parking lot was quiet, not uncomfortable, just… different. Buck kept glancing at her like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

Buck helped her into his Jeep, gently, careful with her IV bruises and burn dressings. When the doors closed, silence filled the car. But this wasn’t a normal silence. It was a heavy one. The kind that made Buck drum his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine. He’d never do that, unless he was trying to hide something. 

“So… uh… are you feeling okay? I mean, obviously not okay-okay- you just survived a building collapse. But, like… hospital okay?” he asked as he put on his seatbelt.

She gave a soft laugh. “Buck, I’m not gonna break if you talk to me.” she told him. “I know, I know,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot, “I just… don’t know what the vibe is. Or what you want to talk about. Or if you’re tired. Or if you’re hungry..” he rambled. 

“Buck.” she said with a warning tone, and with that, he stopped rambling.  

Buck started driving, his hands tight on the wheel… so tight his knuckles were turning white. (Y/n) watched him for a moment. Something felt off… Buck was never this quiet. She looked out the window “Did you hear anything from Eddie?” she asked him quietly as she glanced at him.

Buck froze, it was only for a second, but she saw it. “Oh. Uh… Eddie’s good. He’s- he’s fine,” Buck said quickly, stumbling over his words, caught by surprise. “Yup. Great. he’s doing great.” he said, eyes locked on the road.

He could feel her eyes burning into his skin, but he kept his eyes on the road. “Buck,” she said softly. “What?” he replied, voice a whole octave higher.

“You’re hiding something.” she said.

“No, no, I’m- driving... I’m driving.” he answered, glancing at her now. Not even looking at her for a full second. And he had his eyes glued back onto the road.

“That wasn’t a question, Buck.”

He swallowed, shoulders inching upward like he was trying to hide inside himself.

All she did was raise an eyebrow and that was enough to make Buck groan under his breath. “Please don’t do that. Please don’t do the stare. The eyebrow thing. You and Eddie. Same face, same look, it’s terrifying.” he begged her.

She turned her body towards Buck, “You’re lying.”

“No!” Buck let out, immediately changing his tone. “I’m protecting.” he said, a lot quieter.

“Protecting who exactly?”

“Hm?” Buck tried, eyes locked to the road. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Buck,” she said firmly. “Protecting who?”

Buck groaned and dropped his head back against the seat. “Both of you,” he muttered. Her heart kicked hard in her chest. “Did Eddie… say something?” she asked.

Buck didn’t answer. “Buck.” she sighed. He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, clearly trying to find a way out. “Look, maybe just… don’t worry about Eddie right now,” he said. “He’s working through stuff. It’s complicated.” he advised her.

“Ah, so he did say something.” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“You just did. What did he say?”

“I can’t say.”

“No, you won’t say.” she corrected him. 

“No. no, I can’t. There are rules. Friend rules. Bro code rules. Team rules. All the rules.” he said, motioning with his hands. “Look, can we drop it, please?” Buck asked as he looked at her again.

She frowned, confused and hurt, and the second Buck saw the look on her face, guilt flashed through him. Real, heavy guilt. She let her back fell into the passenger seat again, her head falling against the head rest. “Buck, what’s going on?” she asked quieter now. 

And that’s when something in him finally snapped. He slammed his hand gently, but dramatically, against the steering wheel. “Okay, fine!” he burst out sighing, eyes wide, voice cracking with stress. “Yes, He’s being weird. Yes, he’s avoiding you. And yes, he’s being all… all Eddie about it!” He searched for the right words.

She blinked at the sudden outburst of Buck. But Buck kept going, words tumbling out like he had lost control. “And I don’t know what the hell to tell you because he’s a grown man with the emotional speed of a brick wall! He’s confused and stressed and trying not to freak out, which means I have to deal with the mess! And I’m in the middle of it because both of you look at me like I’m gonna have the answers, and guess what? I don’t!”

He took a breath. Another. His chest rose and fell like he’d just jogged uphill. (Y/n) stared at him, stunned and a little amused despite everything. Buck on the other hand, looked like a kicked puppy who’d tripped over his own paws. He dragged a hand down his face as he tried to focus on the traffic.

“Just… drop the subject,” he muttered, voice softer now. “Please. He’s not avoiding you because he doesn’t care. It’s the opposite. Way too much of the opposite. And that’s all I’m saying.” 

Her heart stuttered, warmth blooming through the worry. Buck glanced at her again, guilty but honest. “He just needs time,” he said. “So… let him have it. For now.”

(Y/n) nodded slowly, mixed feelings flowing inside her, confusion, hope, frustration, something like butterflies. “Okay,” she whispered.

Buck exhaled like he had been holding his breath for ten minutes. He slapped a hand over his face. “I’m going to get in so much trouble for this.”

Buck parked in front of her apartment building and cut the engine. For a moment he just sat there, drumming his fingers on the wheel, stealing quick glances at her like he was making sure she wasn’t about to fall apart. “You good?” he asked softly.

She nodded, though the simple movement made her side throb. The burn under her shirt tugged and pinched. It was tender, tight, always reminding her of the fire she barely escaped. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Just… sore.”

Buck gave a small, gentle smile but didn’t push. “Let’s get you inside.”

He was out of the car before she could blink. He opened her door like some chaotic blond gentleman, offering his hand even though she rolled her eyes before taking it.

The walk up the stairs was slow. Every step sent a warm, stinging pull through her healing skin, and she tried not to let the pain show on her face, but Buck noticed. He didn’t say anything, just moved closer, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

When they reached her door, she took out her keys, but Buck plucked them from her fingers. “Hey-” she stumbled now, but before she could finish that sentence, Buck cut her off. “Let me be useful.” he told her, “Please. I need this for my ego.” he added, dead serious.

She snorted. “Fine.”

He unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. She stepped inside carefully, hand pressing against her ribcage and the edge of the bandaged burn beneath her shirt. It stung, but it was a familiar kind of pain now. Manageable.

Buck looked around. “Home sweet home,” he said softly. She gave a small smile. “Feels weird to be back.” she said, looking around like she hasn’t seen the place in ages.

“Yeah, well… you survived a building falling on you. Weird is allowed.” he said, as he set her bag with her belongings on the dining table

“You sit,” he ordered, pointing at the cushions like a bossy older brother. She sat, wincing when the skin at her side pulled. Buck noticed again. He didn’t comment, he just stood beside her bag and unzipped it.

“Okay,” he said, digging through like he was searching for treasure. “Let’s make sure you don’t die from taking the wrong pills.” he said. Like he knew anything about medications, yeah sure he was a firefighter, he knew some basic things… but not everything.

“Very reassuring.”

“Hey, I’m trying here.” he said, as he stopped in his motion and glanced at her. Then he pulled out a small plastic bag with bottles inside and held them up. 

“Pain meds,” he said, walking towards the coffee table and placing the bottle on it. “You can take one tonight if you need it, but don’t double up. They told me to tell you that.” 

“You sound like Hen.” (Y/n) commented, a slightly annoyed expression written over her face. 

Buck placed his hand onto his heart, and made a small bow. “Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

He kept unpacking, setting out her cream, gauze pads, and the rest of the antibiotics. She watched him silently, her hand drifting to her ribs. The burn pulsed beneath her shirt, still healing, still angry.

Buck’s voice softened. “You should put the cream on later. It’ll help with the sting.” he advised, as he let his eyes wander towards her for a second. “Yeah,” she murmured.

He put her folder of discharge papers beside the meds and let out a breath like he’d run a marathon. “There,” he said proudly, with his hands on his hips. “All your stuff. Organized. Don’t say I never gave you anything.” 

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course.”

For a moment, the room went quiet. She stared at the medication… then at her hands… then at Buck. He tried to look anywhere but at her. But then she finally broke the silence,  “Buck?”

He froze, “…Yeah?”

“How’s he doing? Like… for real?” she asked, too scared to look Buck in the eyes when she asked the question, again. 

Buck’s face tightened instantly, he wasn’t angry, he was cornered. She watched him carefully and then he cleared his throat. “He’s… around.” 

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s… technically an answer.”

She didn’t even say his name this time, she just looked at him with a face that said Seriously?

He dragged a hand through his hair, and looked at the ceiling for a moment.  “I’m not doing this. I’m not getting in the middle.” he said, shaking his head. 

“You already are,” she said quietly.

He winced. “Okay. Low blow.” She folded her arms, gently, mindful of the burn and raised her eyebrows. Buck swore under his breath. “I’m serious,” she pressed. “What did he tell you?”

“I—no—well—kind of—look, don’t do the stare thing—ugh, stop looking at me like that—” he stumbled. He groaned loudly. “Can you please just… drop it?”

“Why?”

“Because!” he snapped, then instantly softened, guilt flickering across his face. “Because I don’t wanna be the guy who screws this up.”

She gave him a confused look, her left eyebrow raising at those exact words he used. “Screws what up?” she asked, she needed answers and she was determined to get them, no matter how annoyed Buck would get. 

“This!” he practically exploded, waving his hands around. “You! Him! Whatever… thing is happening, or not happening, or happening but he’s pretending it’s not—”

She blinked at him. He kept going, words tumbling out too fast to stop. “He cares about you, okay? A lot. More than he knows how to deal with. And he’s freaking out, and avoiding you because he’s Eddie and he’s made of emotional concrete, and I was told not to tell you stuff but I’m apparently physically incapable of lying, so… there. That’s all you get.”

The room went quiet again.

Buck’s chest rose and fell with frustrated breathing. She stared at him with wide eyes.He groaned again, covering his face with both hands. “God, I’m never babysitting anyone’s feelings again.”

She didn’t know what to say. The ache in her chest was suddenly louder than the burn at her side.

Buck rubbed a hand over his face and stepped toward the hall, towards the front door. “Look,” he said more softly, “just… give him time. He’ll figure it out. Or you will. Or both of you will. I don’t know. I’m not Dr. Phil.” 

He reached for the doorknob.

“Buck?” she said quietly, the first thing she said after this explosion of words. He stopped. She stood slowly and made her way towards Buck. Then she wrapped her arms around him. Buck froze at first,vthen melted, hugging her carefully, keeping his hands away from her injured side.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For helping me. For… everything.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Anytime.”

They stayed like that just long enough for her breathing to steady. When she pulled back, Buck kept his hands on her shoulders gentle, steady. “If you need anything… you just call,” he said. “Day or night, doesn’t matter.” 

She nodded. Buck gave her one last soft, protective look and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

_______

_______

The firehouse was quiet, the slow kind of afternoon where everyone cleaned gear or pretended to do paperwork just to stay awake.

Eddie wiped down a hose line for the third time even though it didn’t need cleaning. He just needed something to focus on. Something steady. Something simple. Don’t think about her. Don’t picture her in that bed. Don’t remember what you said. Just.. don’t.

“Eddie” Hen walked past him, bumping his shoulder lightly. “You’re gonna scrub the color off that thing.” she joked as she pointed at the hoseline. Eddie forced a tiny smile. “Just keeping busy.” he said. She didn’t push, but she gave him that knowing look, the one that said she saw right through him.

Before he could reply, Chim’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Buck, stop eating the berries! They’re for the yogurt!” Buck was holding up his hands, “That wasn’t me!” he exclaimed. Chim looked at him with a face that said that he didn’t believe him. “You have berry juice on your face!” he said, pointing at Buck. 

Eddie shook his head, almost amused, when a shadow appeared in the station door. Then a familiar voice rang through the space. “Hey, guys!”

Eddie froze as he recognized the voice. 

Hen’s head snapped toward the door. Chim slid out of the kitchen, spoon still in his mouth and even Bobby stepped out of his office.

(Y/n) was standing in the doorway, looking tired but smiling, holding a small box of muffins. Her burn still healing under her shirt, but her eyes bright. The room lit up instantly. 

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE CARRYING ANYTHING, GIVE ME THAT!” Buck shouted as he ran over and grabbed the box from her hands like she was trying to lift a car. She rolled her eyes at Buck’s overdramatic comment, but smiled as the team surrounded her. 

“Look who it is!” Chim called, grinning as he pulled her into a careful, one-armed hug. Hen hugged her next, checking instinctively, gently, that she wasn’t in pain. “Should you even be walking around already?” she teased. (Y/n) rolled her eyes another time, playfully. “If I stayed home another day, I was going to lose my mind.” 

Buck came up last, hands landing on her shoulders with that same brotherly energy. “You look good,” he said with a smile that tried to hide how relieved he actually was. “Better than last week.” he added. 

She smiled back. Her smile warm, grateful and a little shy. “Thanks.” she said as he gave her a one-armed hug. 

They talked. They joked. She let herself feel normal for the first time since the fire. Her eyes darted across the room when she set foot inside the firehouse, but when her eyes wandered back to search for Eddie, he suddenly wasn’t there anymore.

Throughout the visit, he stayed behind the others, moving around them, keeping busy with things that didn’t need doing. Whenever she glanced his way, he looked away just a second too fast.

He wasn’t ignoring her. He was avoiding her. Just like he had been doing for days. And for sure everyone else noticed too, but no one said a word.

They gently guided her toward the couch so she could sit. Her healing burn was still aching beneath her clothes, pulling tight when she moved. She lifted a hand without thinking and pressed lightly at her side. The skin was still tender, itching from healing.

Buck saw the motion, his brow creasing. “Hey, easy” he warned softly. “Don’t mess with it.” he said, watching her like a hawk. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice cracked just a little more than she wanted. She scanned the scene around her once again, looking for Eddie. But she couldn’t find him.

Eddie was in the hallway now. Standing completely still. Staring at the floor like it might give him answers he didn’t want to hear.

Her chest tightened. Something disappointed curled inside her. She forced a smile for Buck, tried to refocus on whatever he was saying, but her eyes kept drifting back to where Eddie had been. Gone again.

“Careful,” Buck murmured as she winced, one hand instinctively going to her side. Hen noticed immediately. “Still hurting?” she asked. (Y/n) nodded slightly. “A little. Feels like my skin hates me.”

“Well, you did walk through a building that was literally on fire, your skin has a point.” Chim commented. She laughed, even though the shake of it tugged at her burn and made her breath hitch. Buck looked concerned again. “Okay, no more jokes that make her laugh. She’s fragile.” he said, the (over)protective brother side of him was coming out again. 

“I’m not fragile,” she protested. “Yes, you are,” Buck and Hen said at the same time. The warmth of it, being cared about, made her chest feel full. It felt good to be here. It felt… like home. Maybe even more home than her own house.

Then a shadow crossed the doorway. Eddie.

He walked in holding a clipboard he didn’t need, pretending to check things that weren’t even there. His shoulders stiffened when he realized she was looking at him. Buck brightened, waving him over. “Dude, come sit. We’re talking about how (Y/n) is secretly a superhuman-” Buck said, he didn’t even finish his sentence for one second as Eddie answered “I gotta finish this,” quickly, lifting the clipboard as if it proved his point.

Chim raised a brow. “That’s the weekly inspection sheet. Bobby did that yesterday.” he claimed, that’s when Eddie froze for just a moment. “Yeah, well… I’m double-checking.” he tried to cover himself.

“Double-checking?” Hen repeated, unimpressed and raised a brow as she looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yep.” he nodded, eyes locking onto the clipboard in his hands. 

He didn’t look at (Y/n). Not even once. It felt like a cold draft slipping under the door. It was soft, but sharp enough to sting. Hen tried again, gently. “You sure you don’t want to join us?” she asked. 

Eddie swallowed, jaw tight. “I’ll… be there in a minute.” he said, and he left the room before anyone could comment on that. The silence he left behind was heavy.

Buck offered a too-bright laugh. “He’s… uh… really committed to paperwork now.”

Chim shook his head. “I’ve never seen anybody run that fast from social interaction. Not even Buck.” Chim joked, in an attempt to make her smile. But she barely heard them.

She kept her eyes on the empty doorway, forcing herself to sit straighter, to breathe normally, to pretend it didn’t feel like someone had pressed fingers into a bruise inside her chest. Hen touched her knee gently, trying to get her back to reality. “Hey. Don’t take it personally. He’s just…”

“Busy,” (Y/n) cut in quickly. “Yeah. I know.” she said. But her voice was too soft. Too small. They all saw it. The way she blinked hard, the way she hid that tiny tremble in her voice by shifting her weight.

“I’m okay,” she lied.

-

Hen helped (Y/n) up from the couch, careful of her side. “Easy,” Hen reminded her “Your burn’s still healing. No sudden superhero moves.” (Y/n) smiled softly. “No promises.”

They walked slowly toward the front door, the evening light spilling into the hallway. The station was calmer here, quieter… except for the hum of dishes being washed back in the kitchen. Eddie was somewhere in that direction, probably. Pretending to finish chores, pretending not to watch her leave.

Hen held the door open with her hip, checking the driveway. “Your Uber should be here any minute,” she said. (Y/n) nodded, hugging her jacket closer. Hen looked at her for a long moment. “You okay?” she asked.

(Y/n) forced a half-smile. “I’m fine.” she said, avoiding looking Hen too long in the eyes. She knew if she looked at her for too long, she’d break. “Try again,” Hen said gently.

(Y/n) hesitated, but then let out a slow breath. “It’s just… Eddie’s been weird.” she told her. Hen arched a brow. “Weird how?”

“You know how,” (Y/n) said quietly. “He hasn’t visited. He didn’t even look at me once. And I know he’s busy, but…” She shrugged, eyes dropping to the ground. “It feels like he’s avoiding me.”

Hen stayed silent, giving her space. (Y/n)’s voice softened even more. “I thought… after everything… we were closer than that.” she sighed, not knowing what to do. 

Hen’s expression warmed. “You know, he’s not avoiding you because he doesn’t care.”

“Sure feels like it.”

“He’s overwhelmed,” Hen said simply. “Eddie’s heart is a bit… tangled. And when he doesn’t know what to do with big feelings? He runs. It doesn’t mean he wants distance from you. It means he doesn’t know how to get close.”

(Y/n) blinked at that, surprised. Hen squeezed her arm. “Just… don’t take his silence as rejection. He’s trying to figure himself out.” (Y/n) nodded slowly. “I hope you’re right.” she said, glancing at Hen. Hen rubbed her hand over (Y/n)’s upper arm, in an attempt to comfort her.

Eddie was standing halfway behind the wall, close enough to hear every word, far enough to pretend he hadn’t been listening. His hand tightened around the dish towel he was still holding, knuckles white. His eyes were on (Y/n). Soft. hurt. guilty. Like her words had hit him straight in the chest like a bullet.

Her Uber pulled up to the curb. Hen smiled gently. “There’s your ride.” (Y/n) stepped outside as soon as she told Hen goodbye, unaware of the storm she left behind.

______

Hours had gone by, some minor calls had been responded to and now the station was quiet. Most of the team had gone to bed. The kitchen lights were dim, and only the low hum of the building and the ticking of the wall clock filled the empty space.

Eddie sat on the bench in the locker room, shoulders slumped, hands tangled together, staring at the floor like it held all the answers he didn’t want to see. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting here, or what was keeping him here. 

Buck was on his way towards his locker when he noticed him. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the way his best friend was staring into the floor, the way his hands shook slightly. “Hey,” Buck said softly. “You good?” 

Eddie didn’t answer.

Buck walked over and sat on the other side of the bench. Not sitting too close… just enough. He didn’t say anything, he waited for Eddie to finally answer his question. Eddie finally let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Buck. I said too much. I scared her… and now she thinks I don’t care. And I… I can’t fix it.” he stumbled. 

He clearly was still thinking of the conversation he overheard a few hours ago. 

Buck shook his head slowly, calm but firm. “Eddie, I know you’re scared. But you’re not going to fix any of this by sitting and moaning to yourself.” Buck said. Buck could see the way they both cared for each other, but wouldn’t talk to each other. And to be honest, he was done with all the thinking, and sad faces. He needed them to talk. 

There was a silence for a moment, Buck gave Eddie some space to answer if he wanted to. Buck straightened his back, turning his body to Eddie. ”So what if you maybe said too much? Why back down?” he asked. 

Eddie blinked, swallowing hard.

“If you don’t say anything now,” Buck continued, leaning closer, voice low but steady, “I know for a fact that you won’t do anything at all. Do you really want her to fall in love with someone else? Because I know that when she’s walking down the aisle and they say that stupid line ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ you’re not going to stand up and declare your love to her. So do it now, Eddie. Or you’re going to regret this. If you never try, you’ll never know.” 

Eddie’s throat went dry. He looked down at his hands, twisting them nervously. Buck nudged him gently. “You’ve got to be brave, man. Take the risk and get some answers. For her. For yourself.”

Eddie let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You know… for someone who’s not that good at dating and relationships… that was pretty solid advice.”

Buck smiled, a little proud, and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “You’ve got this. Don’t screw it up. And don’t overthink it.”

Eddie exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders loosen just a fraction. He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

The words hung in the quiet room, echoing softly in his mind. He knew Buck was right. He just had to find the courage to act.

-

Eddie parked his truck and sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath. It was morning again, he just got off shift and went straight to the store the minute he walked out of the firehouse. He needed some kind of peace offering, something he knew she couldn’t decline. 

His hands were tight on the steering wheel as he replayed the words Buck had said in his mind, again for the thousandth time. “Do you really want her to fall in love with someone else?” “So do it now, Eddie. Or you’re going to regret this.”

He couldn’t sleep last night, the words and scenario Buck painted were all he could hear and see. But now that he was outside her building, he needed to stop overthinking. There wasn’t any time to overthink. Not today. He had to see her. Push all of his fears to the side, and talk to her.

So, Eddie grabbed a bag from his passenger seat,  stepped out of his car and went up. When he stood in the hallway, the apartment lights were buzzing quietly above him. He shifted the grocery bag in his hands, feeling ridiculous but also more determined than ever. Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a carton of milk. Yes, that’s right, not flowers, not chocolates, but the one thing he knew she’d never turn down.

Eddie stood in front of her apartment door, gathered all his courage, took a deep breath and knocked.

On the inside, (Y/n) froze. She was halfway to her couch when she heard it. Three careful taps, the kind that didn’t belong to neighbors or delivery drivers. Her heart climbed into her throat. Part of her wanted to open immediately. Another part pressed her feet to the floor.

Another knock sounded on the wooden door, a second time, this time firmer.

Eddie exhaled deeply on the other side. “(Y/n)… please.” His voice was low, tired, hopeful. “I know you’re home.” he said. 

She swallowed, gripping the edge of the counter beside her. She hated that hearing his voice made her chest ache. The only thing that she hated even more was that she missed him.

A third knock sounded through the apartment and the hallway. Softer again. “Just… just open the door,” Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m not here to make a scene. I just… I need to talk to you.” he said. 

Still silence.

He ran his thumb over the cardboard cereal box, nerves chewing at him. “I’m not leaving,” he added with an awkward little laugh, “so the neighbors are gonna think I’m a weirdo stalking someone with breakfast.”

And then he heard her shift inside. He looked up sharply, the lock clicked.

The door opened just a few inches, but just enough for one eye and a part of her face to peek out. She didn’t look angry, she looked conflicted.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He simply lifted the grocery bag a little, almost shyly. “I, uh… got your favorite.” he stumbled, a bit surprised. She blinked, staring at the familiar beige cereal box peeking out at the top. Her lips twitched despite herself. “You… got cinnamon toast crunch?” she asked softly. 

“And milk,” he added quickly. “Whole milk. Not that 1% watery stuff you hate.” 

He remembered. There was a flicker of amusement projected on her face. It was too fast to stop. Too real to ignore. But she still hesitated, eyes darting to the floor, then back to him. “Why?” she whispered. Not angry. Not annoyed. Just… hurting. By the way he treated her for days. 

Eddie’s shoulders fell slightly. “Because I wanted to talk to you. And I didn’t know how else to start.” he answered. 

(Y/n) stared at him for a long moment, caught between fear and the familiar warmth she always felt when he was around. Her fingers lingered on the door, tightening. She opened it a little wider, but still guarded, still unsure. But wide enough for him to step inside.

She let him in without a word, jaw tight as she walked straight to the kitchen. Eddie followed, heart already slamming against his ribs. She grabbed a bowl, poured the cereal he brought and added milk. Eddie watched her, too afraid to speak.

(Y/n) hopped up to sit on the dining table. She started eating, eyes never leaving him. It wasn’t passive. It wasn’t dismissive. It was a challenge.

“Okay,” she said, as she was swallowing the last bit of her first bite, “Talk.” she told him. Eddie swallowed hard. “I… I came to apologize.” he said. 

She didn’t say anything. But listened. He shifted anxiously. “I’m sorry I disappeared. I’m sorry I didn’t visit. I’m sorry I left you wondering what the hell you did wrong.” 

She nodded once, unimpressed and placed the bowl of cereal next to her on the table.  “Why?” she asked. 

Eddie hesitated for a second. She set the spoon down with a sharp clink. “Why shut me out?” she asked quietly but sharply, voice catching slightly. “You left me completely in the dark.” she continued, folding her arms. 

Eddie’s chest tightened. “…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did!” Her voice rose, spilling over like a dam breaking. “You did hurt me. By spilling your guts and then just vanishing! No visits. No calls. No text. Nothing!”

There’s a silence.

She pushes herself off the table, back onto her legs and gets closer to him. “You just can’t disappear for days and then suddenly show up like you get to fix everything. That’s not how this works.” She was mad. eyes were burning and her raising voice made her head ache. 

“You want to know why I’m here?” Eddie tried to stay calm. But his voice was cracking under the weight of everything he’d been swallowing down. (Y/n) didn’t back away. She stood her ground, chest rising and falling, eyes burning.

“Yes! For once, Eddie, just stop running away and say it!”

His hands curled into fists at his sides, furious with himself, with the situation, with the way he had let everything spiral and go to shit. He stepped closer, almost toe-to-toe with her, shaking with anger he wasn’t even trying to hold back anymore. He could feel her breath tickling his skin.

“You think I wanted any of this?” he yelled. “You think I wanted to fall for someone again? You think I wanted to care this much?”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move. 

“I saw you in that building,” Eddie continued, chest heaving. “I saw you lying there, and it was like my entire world collapsed. It was exactly like that moment with Shannon all over again! All that fear, all that helplessness, it came right back and it nearly killed me.”

She swallowed hard, voice rising again. “Then why didn’t you just tell me that? Why didn’t you come to me instead of running?”

“Because I’m a coward!” he roared, pointing to his own chest. “Because I screwed everything up! Because I didn’t want you to see how badly-” He choked on the words, anger and heartbreak clashing so hard he lost control of both.

“-how badly I love you,” he snapped, loud, raw, and unforgiving. He ran a hand down his face as he turned away from her for a second and took some distance. “There. Are you happy?! I love you. I freaking love you, and it terrifies me!” he said as he faced her again. The moment the words left his lips, something snapped.

He surged forward and let his hand grab the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss so hard it was almost a shove. It wasn’t gentle, not careful, it was desperate and furious and breaking. All the emotions he had felt for the past few days were pushed into this action.

The kiss burned with everything he’d been holding back. It was rage, fear, love, panic. All of it.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened, she was realizing what was happening, and that’s when shock and instinct kicked in. She shoved at his chest, breaking the kiss. But he already stepped back, face twisted with self-loathing, hands in his hair. “God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to- I just-” he stumbled, trying to make up a full sentence. His hands were at the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling, asking himself what the hell he just did.

The shaking hands, the broken voice, the terror in his eyes… he wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself for loving her. 

Something inside her snapped right back. She moved back towards him again, determined, and then she grabbed a fist full of the front of his shirt, a tight, desperate fist and yanked him toward her.

Eddie barely had time to gasp before she crashed her mouth into his, matching every ounce of the fire he gave her. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t neat. It was messy and hungry and overflowing.

He made a low, shocked sound against her mouth, hands gripping her waist. Then immediately loosening when she flinched at the burn.

“Sorry-” he whispered against her lips, breath hot and uneven, eyes full of worry. But she shook her head quickly, tugging him closer again, fingers curling into his shirt like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.

That was all the permission Eddie needed.

His hands slid up her sides with fierce, trembling need, careful around her injuries, but still desperate, still pulled toward her like gravity itself was demanding it. Her fingers were pulling at the hem of his shirt. 

Clothes began to shift, half-tugged, half-pulled, heat flooding the room as the argument dissolved into something completely else. Eddie’s forehead pressed against hers, both out of breath, eyes wild and soft at the same time.

“This…” he rasped, voice shaking. “This was never supposed to happen like this.” he breathed.

(Y/n) cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Just don’t run this time.” she whispered against his lips.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •