#post-shooting

So when Ravi rounds the corner of a fire truck and sees from afar how suspiciously close Firefighter Diaz stands behind Firefighter Buckley, he is prepared to encounter another not safe for workplace scene.

***

Ravi: ARE YOU GUYS HAVING SEX?!

Buck: We are? Jeez, Eddie, why didn't you tell me? I'd have put my clipboard down.

Eddie: Trust me, Buckley, you would have known if we were.

Buck: Such a tease, Eds.

***

Turns out it's just Eddie got a lot clingy since the shooting and after recovery stuck to Buck like glue, and followed him everywhere. So what we’re witnessing here is Eddie keeping Buck company while he checks supplies, nothing more. Buck is so used to this that he didn’t pay any mind when Eddie hugged him from behind.

Which apparently was too much for new and poorly informed Ravi Panikkar. Somewhere in a firehouse Hen and Chimney were howling with laughter at Probie’s misery. Rude.

----

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck me? Fuck you!”

Eddie laughs hollowly. “Yeah, you don’t get to be mad.”

“Oh, are you telling me how I feel?” Buck snaps, unable to stop the anger coursing through him. “I forgot that I need to check everything through you first before I react!”

“You know, that would probably work best for you!” Eddie bellows. “Because when you are left to your own devices, you make stupid fucking decisions. You know, sometimes I sit thinking to myself, ‘what would Buck do’ and then I do the opposite.”

Buck’s face twists. “Oh, come on—”

“You attached your carabiner to a dying man. You had no way of saving—”

“You don’t know that!” Buck says, his eyes growing wild. “You don’t get to tell me when someone is dead. You don’t get to tell me to give up! I will never stop trying!”

“I know Buck! And that’s what terrifies me!” Eddie shouts, getting up in his space.

Buck can feel Eddie’s breath on his face. His rage filters out when he sees the pain etched in the lines of his once-partner’s face. “What does that even mean?” 

“How can you not know?” Eddie cries, shaking his head and stepping away. He runs his hand down his face and turns away from Buck. Buck hates it. He wants Eddie to turn back around, so he can see his face, and yet… he waits. “God, Buck.” Eddie breathes. “How can you not know by now?”

Buck wishes he understood what Eddie was saying, but he is coming up empty. If the man would only turn around.

He does.

Eddie’s face is painted with hurt and frustration. “Don’t you ever know when to stop? If you plummet with every dying man, one day, you’re gonna join them. Then who’s going to be my partner?”

“You’re not—”

A firefighter anymore gets lodged in his throat. It’s said in the silence. “I don’t know if I can ever stop trying.”

“I know.” Eddie states and Buck thinks there may be a watery sheen over his eyes. “I know.”

Buck: I'm sorry. I wanted to be there so much but I couldn't-... wouldn't leave Chris alone. We needed each other.

Eddie: You took care of him when I couldn't. You did that without hesitation.

Buck: Of course I did, Eds! We've been friends for over three years! You're my family. You must know how much I care about you and Christopher.

Eddie: And we deeply care about you, too.

Buck: Yeah, I know... *softly*

Eddie: If, however, your feelings have changed... I would have to tell you...

Buck: Eddie...?

As per their friends’ repeated advice Eddie and Buck went to the couples therapy because of the codependency they developed after the shooting (right, like they didn’t have it before).

Fun fact: they go there as ✨friends✨

Taylor and Ana are confused about their dynamic. You go to the couples counseling with your best friend right in front of your girlfriend? What the holy hell is this?

Ana is put out and angered by this because Edmundo never put this much effort into their relationship for all the time that they were together. At first, she thought he was reserved because of his late wife, but now she knows better. It’s just her. He doesn’t seem to be even remotely interested in their relationship after he woke up in a hospital bed calling for his best friend, when she was right there. She never fake smiled so hard in her entire life.

Taylor finally figured out why Buck didn’t chase after her. She wasn’t the one he wanted. It stings, she must admit, but it’s not really surprising. She had her suspicions after Eddie’s welcome home party. Buck was subtle as brick with the way he glared at Eddie’s girlfriend like he wanted her to cease to exist. And Taylor certainly didn’t miss Eddie’s jealous looks whenever she leaned to whisper something to Buck. Nothing new on this front, though. She’s used to Eddie Diaz’s death glare since 2018. Well, it was good while it lasted. She and Buck are better off as friends, anyway.

Dr. Copeland just wants to get some peace, but it's unlikely with these two oblivious (not) married gentlemen.

----

There were no words she could pronounce, her mouth was frozen. He was right, bad things constantly happened to her. If it was not work related, it was related to her personal life. Her whole life, she had been facing dark things. Her father walking out, her mother bleeding out before her eyes and daring her to call anybody that could help, making it obvious that she wanted to die. Allison being taken away from her, in a way, all of her side-problems growing up. Her mother's sickness... And then came Derek. His hidden marriage, the bomb, her drowning, her mother's death. The miscarriage. The shooting. 

"I've heard Dr. Riley and you are related." Perkins mentioned. "She could have died too, that day." He paused, tilting his head. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands, resting them under his stomach as he kept staring at Meredith. "You have been there for them all the way. You were there to make sure your sister was out of risk. You were there for Allison when she had a break-out moment. You were there for Izzie, for Alex, even for Cristina." He leaned back forward and rested his arms over the table. "You were there for everybody, the whole time." and once he gulped, he asked, "But who was there for you?"

Ever since the wedding, it had felt as though nothing had ever stopped happening. She had miscarried not all that long ago, and the baby thought was very present in both Derek and Meredith's minds. They wanted a child, at least she knew Derek did. And to lose that child, which she had no idea she even carried, it had felt as though she had kept Derek from getting what he wanted. And then being unable to conceive had been proving what a wrong fit she was to him, to keep him from getting what he wanted, what he needed. He would be an incredible father, and she would keep that from him. Then happened Kim's situation. Good thing Zola appeared into their lives, or else, honestly, Meredith had no idea where they would be standing up to this point.

"You didn't hold that bomb because you wanted to have it explode in your hands, Meredith." the psych mentioned, staring at her straight in the eyes. "Nor did you mean to stop swimming when you drowned. Just like you never meant to lose that child that day." That left Meredith even more cold as she sat up and gulped, trying to remain emotionless. But it was hurting a hell lot deep down. "Bad things constantly happen, and you have been through a certain amount of them. But you are not responsible for them. It may feel like it's your fault, like you caused them, or maybe even like you deserve them." He paused, then pursued, "But you don't." He moved his chair forward to sit a bit more straight, though never breaking the gaze. "You have been holding everybody up even though you couldn't even hold yourself. And now that everybody is able to keep themselves up on their own, you find yourself on your own, and everything is weighting."

"So last time, we talked about your father." Perkins said as he opened his pad and grabbed his pen, turning the yellow paper to the left side and grabbing his former piece of paper on which he had scribbled a few things during her past visit. Meredith licked her lips and sat up straight, looking down at her hands, scratching the side of her nail. "You said he offered you money." he said as he looked through his notes. Then as he looked up, he tilted his head and gulped, nodding. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. "Your mother was a surgeon, too." he paused, "Growing up with an absent father and certainly occupied mother must have been hard." Meredith looked up at the man and looked him straight in the eyes.

Perkins stared right back, and leaning back forward, he folded his arms over the table and looked up at Meredith, looking her straight in the eyes. "You held a bomb, you drowned," he tilted his head, "I've also heard you had a miscarriage once." He stared at her, and she only stared through, gulping back the emotions. "And most recently, you've seen someone being shot right in front of you." Meredith sat still, just staring at the man. "Your sister was shot as well, and your best friend has been in a coma for a while." He paused, waiting to see if she was going to say something. "Now all of them are safe. Your sister made it out fine and she's out of the hospital, your best friend woke up, and that other woman is back on her feet as well." He waited again, then asked, "So why are you like this, Meredith? Why aren't you happy everything's alright again?" and he frowned.

Meredith could feel something burning inside, deep down. As if her eyes were on fire, she stared right into the psych's eyes and the words came out of her mouth before she could even think of them. Shouting, she threw at him, "Because nothing is alright!" Perkins' head moved backward and he stared at her, a little bit shocked, probably not seeing the shouting coming. And completely losing control, Meredith kept shouting, "Brighton wasn't supposed to be there! She just ran up to me and the guy shot her when he was supposed to shoot me!" she said, pointing to herself. Perkins scribbled something down, but Meredith couldn't care less. "I should have gotten that bullet, I should have bled out, not her!" 

This was the next step. She had missed Zola's very first word, though she was not going to miss out on the rest of her life. She had already missed way too much. She had promised herself that she would always be there, and she would. Nothing would ever interfere again ever. And even though she had been dreading that moment for so long, she knew it had to be done. Sooner or later, she would have to face the past. She had to move on, for once and for all.

Sitting in that office, legs crossed, arms crossed, she stared down at her thighs. Perkins leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as well, staring at her. "So," he said, tilting his head slightly, "what brought you back here?" She gulped, and looking up, she locked gaze with the man and stared through. "When I was five years old, my dad walked out and never came back. For years, I thought he was dead. Turned out twenty years later that he had re-married and had two kids." Just from that, Perkins moved back forward, reached out for his pad and pen and scribbled something down. Meredith kept staring at him. "I wasn't very close to my mother as she was working pretty much all the time, being a surgeon. I practically raised myself up." she said, shrugging it off, that being the least of her concerns as she didn't mind all that much about that part. 

"Have you ever seen your father since?" Meredith gulped and stared at the psych. "Yes." He scribbled that down right under everything, and then looking back up, he asked, "How did that go?" She sat up straight, cold, and responded, "He offered me money." The psych gulped and nodded slightly before asking again, "And how did that make you feel?" That was why she was never going to psychs. They asked the stupidest questions and made a big deal out of the smallest things. "Oh, great. Really. I was very happy." and she put on a smile. The man only nodded his head and said, "I bet you hate him." 

"So you left your daughter with her uncle and ran down the stairs in search of your husband." Perkins confirmed, moving his pen in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. Sitting straight up in the chair across from his, legs crossed, Meredith kept staring at the man in silence. He sighed heavily, leaving Meredith to raise an eyebrow. The psych leaned back forward, crossing his hands over the table as he looked up at her. "You know, for someone who wants to get cleared, you're not helping yourself much." 

There wasn't a night where Meredith wouldn't be pulled out of bed due to a nightmare, mostly ever since Brighton had come up to her, thanking her for saving her life. Just to see her again had brought back tons of images, images she had tried so hard to forget. And now that psych guy wanted her to talk about it? What was it about those people, who always wanted to bring back the past, recall the bad times of people's lives and have them live them over again? There was nothing good about it, it only made things worse! What was she doing there, in that office... she just wanted to get out.