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lyjen · 12 days ago

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Nothing Happened | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) have been close friends for a long time, but a tough call leaves her struggling and pulling away from the team. Eddie watches her shut everyone out, his worry builds until one night, when he finally confronts her, and the truth slips out before he can stop it.

Trigger warnings: Injuries, death, panic attacks, emotional breakdown, grief, mentions of PTSD.

Trope: Friends to lovers | Request

Request status: OPEN ✨

Word count: 9.1k

9-1-1 Masterlist

GIF by @texasbama

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The sun was dipping low, casting the rooftop in a warm orange glow. A soft breeze blew over the edge of the building, rustling the edges of coffee cups and folding chair covers. It was one of those rare moments where there were no drills, no calls, just some breathing room for the first responders.

A small circle of folding chairs had been dragged together on the roof top. Hen, Buck, Chim, Eddie, and Bobby were already there, mugs in hand, all of them nursing half-finished drinks. Some had coffee. That was one of the things that couldn’t be missed on a twentyfour hour shift. Others had tea, and some had hot cocoa.

The rooftop smelled like asphalt, sun-warmed metal, and distant city smoke. But it was calm. For now. Just a moment of rest.

The metal door creaked open behind them. (Y/n) stepped out, buttoning her navy shirt with one hand, her other arm still damp from a rushed cleanup job. Her hair was pulled back quickly, a few strands were stuck to her cheek. She looked exhausted, but there was still a spark in her eye, the same one that always appeared when she was near her team.

Hen lifted her hand as soon as she saw her. “I kept it warm for you,” she said, passing over a ceramic mug as (Y/n) reached the circle. She sent Hen a small smile, “You’re an angel,” (Y/n) whispered, taking it with both hands and sinking into the empty seat beside her.

“Alright,” Buck started, grinning with that mischievous gleam he got right before asking something dumb. “Important question.” he said as he moved in his chair. “Uh-oh,” Hen said as she had both of her hands wrapped around her cup and blew some air onto the beverage.

Buck ignored Hen, his eyes aimed on (Y/n). “If we were in a horror movie, who do you think would die first?” he asked, dead serious. Without even blinking or even taking a moment to think about the question, (Y/n) took a sip and said, “Oh, definitely you.”

The group cracked up immediately. “Wow.” Buck placed a hand over his heart. “You didn’t even hesitate.” he continued as he pretended to be hurt by her comment.

She smirked into her mug. “I’ve seen you walk into active scenes without a plan and three Red Bulls in your system. You’d hear a chainsaw in the basement and be like, ‘Guys, I got this.’” she shrugged her shoulders as if it was the easiest question in the world.

“Tragic,” Chim added. “But it's true.”

“She’s right, y’know.” Eddie’s voice came low and smooth from the other side of the circle. He was leaning back into his chair, as he had his mug resting on his thigh, one hand wrapped around it, and the other arm leaning onto the armrest.

He hadn’t said much all afternoon. But now he spoke, and he was looking at (Y/n) when he did.

She turned her head toward him, one brow raised, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “And you’d be the guy who disappears halfway through the movie,” she teased, “then comes back covered in blood with some dark secret and zero explanation.” she said as she took another sip of her drink.

Eddie gave a half-smile. “But I’d survive.” he said as he was focussed on the mug, still resting on his knee, and glanced briefly at (Y/n) again.

Buck rolled his eyes and sighed. “Would everyone stop assuming I’d be the dumb one?”

“You’d trip over your own sarcasm,” Hen muttered.

“You’d try to flirt with the killer,” Chim added.

“Oh come on—” Buck choked on his words as he got cut off by Hen again.

“You did once ask a witness if they had plans after giving their statement,” Hen reminded him.

“That was different—she was alive!” Buck tried to defend himself.

Laughter filled the air again. (Y/n) laughed too, warm and bright, her cheeks slightly becoming a bit more red as she laughed and when she glanced back at Eddie, it lingered. Her smile, her eyes, the soft twitch at the corner of his mouth that showed he was watching her reaction more than anything else.

Bobby laughed with them but didn’t say a word. He sat slightly off to the side, mug cradled loosely in one hand. He didn’t chime in, he was just observing.

His gaze traveled from Eddie… to (Y/n)… and back again. Not judging. Just quietly reading the current in the space between them.

"By the way," Chim said, squinting at (Y/n)'s shirt as the light caught the faint stain near her waist, "either you lost a battle with the laundry machine or you're starting a new trend in uniform destruction."

(Y/n) glanced down, exhaling sharply. “Some guy threw up on me earlier. He missed the stretcher, but he didn’t miss me.” she explained. A collective groan sounded over the roof top.

“And they say this job isn’t glamorous.” Hen muttered.

Buck made a face. “You didn’t change?”

“I figured it was either deal with it or miss out on Hen’s pity tea.” she said, leaning back slightly. “And I wanted to be up here before you started emotionally spiraling because Hen knew more about serial killers than you did.” (Y/n) said, as Hen lifted her mug in salute.

“You know you’re the one who chooses this life,” Eddie said casually, eyes still on her. “Yeah,” she muttered with a smirk, “but nowhere in the job description did it say ‘projectile vomit magnet.’”

The group chuckled again, but just then, the bell rang, disturbing the peace and quiet. The calm shattered as the station-wide tones kicked in, the shrill pitch of the alert echoing up through the roof speakers.

Everyone moved at once. Mugs were being set down in an instant and the sound of chairs that were being scraped back mixed with the sound of the alarm.

The wail of sirens faded as Hen eased the ambulance to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires just outside the chaotic construction site. The fire truck and engine roared in behind them, dust swirling in the air as brakes hissed.

Hen killed the engine, her eyes already scanning the scene through the windshield. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling the handle and stepping out.

(Y/n) was right behind her, snapping on her blue gloves before her boots even hit the pavement. Her eyes swept the street ahead. Bystanders were assembled along the sidewalk, some scrapes and bruises while others just were standing in shock. A low groan of metal settling from the collapsed structure ahead filled the air.

From the captain’s seat of the ladder truck, Bobby hopped down, eyes sharp as they scanned the damage.

A scaffolding tower had collapsed like a house of cards, collapsing into the building they were creating. Steel bars and wood planks had crashed across the concrete like discarded matchsticks. Part of the frame had given way and spilled across the sidewalk where several people had clearly been walking.

“Let’s bring it in!” Bobby called, waving the team into a circle as he assessed. “We’ve got a partial collapse on a two-story scaffolding. There’s structural instability, but not total failure. We’re likely looking at victims inside.”

He pointed quickly as he laid out the plan. “Chim, Buck, Eddie, you’re with me. We’re going in for search and rescue. Full sweep. Take it slow and watch for secondary collapses.”

“Copy that cap” they chorused, grabbing gear from the truck and slipping on helmets and gloves. “Hen, (Y/n),” Bobby continued, turning to them. “You two handle triage. Sidewalk injuries only for now. Unless we call you in, do not enter the structure.” he told the two paramedics.

“Got it,” Hen replied, already heading toward the cluster of injured civilians with (Y/n) on her heels. (Y/n)’s face was all business, but her mind raced. The twisted metal, the fallen beams… someone had to be under that.

She and Hen kept their distance by the fire line, watching the boys disappear into the debris-strewn structure. “Why is it always scaffolding?” (Y/n) muttered. “It’s never a bounce house collapse. Always metal and sharp edges.” she said as she opened the back of the ambulance to get out the medic bag.

Hen gave a dry laugh. “Because bounce houses don’t usually kill people.”

The air inside the structure was different. Thicker, as if the dust and heat carried weight. Eddie moved in step with Buck, his flashlight slicing through the haze. The beams of their headlamps flickered across rebar, fallen scaffolding, and jagged concrete slabs.

“LAFD!” Buck called out. “Call out if you can hear us!”

“L.A. Fire and Rescue!” Eddie echoed, voice steady as he stepped over a beam. “If you’re trapped, make a sound!” he said while he checked every inch and corner of the environment.

They moved methodically, room to room, or what remained of rooms. Twisted metal created a maze of shadows. The building groaned under its own weight. Somewhere above them, something creaked ominously, but held. For now.

“Watch your footing,” Bobby called ahead from where he was sweeping the center hallway with Chim.

The team moved with urgency, but not recklessness. In every corner could be someone. Every slab could be the difference between life and death.

“Over here!” Chim called suddenly, his voice echoing through the wreckage. “Got someone!”

Eddie and Buck rushed over, crouching beside Chim and Bobby where a man lay pinned beneath a steel beam. He was wearing a hardhat, one side dented and part of his reflective vest was torn, blood soaking the side.

“Still breathing,” Chim reported, fingers pressed to the man’s neck.

“Sir?” Eddie leaned close. “Can you hear me? You’re with LAFD. We’re here to help.”

The man groaned, and was trying to move. “Don’t move,” Bobby said gently but firmly. “You’ve got a piece of scaffolding across your midsection. We need to assess before we do anything.”

Eddie crouched beside the man, studying the angle of the beam. His pulse picked up. One wrong lift and they could collapse more weight on the guy. Or crush his ribs. Or sever something they couldn’t see.

“Let’s stabilize it here,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “And reinforce the back end before we lift. We need to get the medics in once we’re sure it’s not gonna shift.”

“On it,” Buck said, moving to wedge shoring under one side of the beam.

“Should we call Hen or (Y/n) in?” Chim asked Bobby.

“Not yet,” Bobby replied. “Not until we’ve stabilized this. We don’t risk more people until we’re sure it’s safe.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched as he watched the man blink weakly up at the ceiling. There was a split second where he thought not about the weight of the beam. Not the collapse. Just about the fact that (Y/n) was outside. Probably helping injured people on the sidewalk. Completely unaware that inside these walls, everything could come crashing down at any second if they made one wrong choice.

And for the first time, that thought made something tighten in his chest. But he pushed it down. Locked it away.

“Alright,” Bobby said. “Let’s make this move count.”

The construction worker groaned again, weaker this time. A layer of dust covered his face, smeared slightly by sweat. Bobby crouched beside him, radio in hand, pressing the transmit button.“Hen, (Y/n), we need one of you inside. We’ve got a male, mid-30s, pinned under a steel beam. His leg’s being crushed and circulation’s already looking compromised. Bring trauma gear.”

A sharp crackle replied before Hen’s voice came through. “Copy that. Sending someone in now.” (Y/n) turned to her partner as she caught those words Hen said through the radio. “You want me to go?” (Y/n) asked her.

Hen nodded, already turning back to a woman with a split brow. “Yeah. You’ve got better eyes on crush injuries. I’ve got sidewalk duty covered.”

“On it.” (Y/n) jogged toward the truck to go and get her helmet. Eddie was already there, pulling out the backboard with one hand. He glanced up as she approached, face unreadable but eyes locked on hers.

“I’ve got it,” he said, voice steady. Then, reaching into the gear rack inside the compartment, he grabbed a black helmet and turned to her. “Here.”

It was hers, her name label still faintly smudged with old soot. He handed it to her without a word, but with his eyes locked with hers. His fingers brushed hers, unwittingly.

(Y/n) looked down at the helmet, then up again. “Thanks.” she said as she adjusted the medic bag which was starting to fall off her shoulder.

She took the helmet from Eddie. Their eyes held for a beat. The background noise, the low groan of the structure, the hum of civilians, the bark of orders, faded just slightly. She turned away first, snapping the helmet on as she followed him toward the site’s opening. It was only a second, but it felt like minutes.

The dust clung to the inside of her mouth, and the air smelled like scorched metal and tension.

She followed Eddie and stepped into the small clearing where the others had propped debris to give them space. The worker was lying awkwardly beneath the beam, the lower half of his right leg hidden from view—and probably crushed. His breath was shallow, and the color was leaving his face in real time.

“Vitals are fading,” Chim warned.

(Y/n) dropped to her knees beside the man, popping open the side panel on her trauma pack. Her gloves were already on. “Let’s get pressure above the crush point. Do not lift yet. I need a read on what we’re looking at.”

Eddie crouched beside her, setting the backboard within reach.

She didn’t look at him, not yet. But suddenly something tightened the air around her. Making her nervous. Was it the scene? The crush injury right in front of her, which made her doubt if she could save this man’s leg? Or was it a certain someone? She wasn’t sure.

(Y/n) kept her voice calm and even despite the chaos vibrating through the structure. “Hey,” she said gently, brushing away some of the dust from the man’s brow. “Can you hear me?” she asked the victim.

The man’s eyes fluttered open, clouded with pain but responsive. “I’m (Y/n), I’m with LAFD. You’re pinned under a support beam, but we’re gonna get you out. Can you tell me your name?”

“...Joe,” he rasped, swallowing hard. His skin was slick with sweat. “My leg… I can’t… feel it…” he stumbled over his words.

“I know, Joe,” she said, her tone soft but focused as she reached for her kit. “You’ve got a crush injury. I’m going to start an IV to help manage the pain, okay?” (Y/n) said as she was already holding the right tools.

He nodded faintly.

Behind her, Bobby gave one last look over his shoulder before motioning to Chim. “We’re sweeping the second floor, radio if anything changes.” Chim gave her a quick nod as he stood. “You’ve got this.”

And then it was just the three of them. Buck hovered nearby, alert but letting her lead. Eddie stood a few feet off to her side, watching her with that unreadable calm. His gloved hands rested on his thighs, ready, tense.

(Y/n) popped the IV cap, quickly prepping the line. The tip of the needle shook for half a second in her hand just a flicker. “Hey,” Eddie said behind her, voice low and grounding. “What do you need?” he asked her.

(Y/n) didn’t look up right away. She took a breath, locking the needle into place and focusing on Joe’s arm. Her voice came out measured, but clipped. “Once the meds hit, we’re going to brace the leg before we even think about lifting that beam. I need traction on the upper thigh, then we secure a splint.” she told the two of them.

Buck crouched next to her. “I’ll handle traction.”

“Perfect.” She finally glanced at Eddie. “Can you prep the splint and backboard?”

“On it,” he said without hesitation, already pulling gear closer. As he moved past her, his shoulder brushed hers lightly barely noticeable through their gear, but it was enough.

Enough to remind her of his closeness. Enough to distract her. And suddenly, she wasn’t sure if the nervous flutter in her stomach was because of Joe’s crushed leg… or Eddie’s hands unpacking the splint beside her. What the hell is wrong with her?

She focused harder on the IV, slipping the needle in with practiced precision. Joe hissed but stayed still. “You’re doing good, Joe. Meds are coming in now.” He nodded faintly, jaw clenched.

“I’m wrapping above the knee,” she muttered, almost to herself. “I'm going to need traction once we free the limb.”

“I’ve got your six,” Eddie said. His voice was calm, like always, but it wasn’t lost on her that he hadn’t looked away from her once since she entered the building with him.

They were deep in it now. The building groaned again.

Dust rained down from somewhere above them, the soft sifting sound a warning no one wanted to hear. But (Y/n) didn’t flinch. Her focus stayed locked on Joe as the pain meds started to work their way through his system.

“We’re almost there,” she said, voice firm. “Joe, I need you to keep breathing for me, okay?” He gave a weak nod, his eyes glassy but open.

Buck moved into position. “I’ve got traction.”

“Splint’s prepped,” Eddie added, handing it off to her carefully.

(Y/n) took it, her fingers touched his just for a fraction. Again. Unintentionally. She didn’t react this time. Couldn’t. Joe’s leg was mangled beneath the beam, and every passing minute risked permanent damage. Or worse.

“All right,” she said, kneeling by Joe again. “We’re going to lift the beam just enough to slide the leg out. Not a centimeter more. We don't want a full collapse.” she explained to Joe.

“I don't like the sound of this,” Buck muttered, casting a nervous glance upward. And he was right. The structure was talking again. Shifting, creaking, like it was deciding whether it wanted to stay standing or come crashing down.

“Let’s move,” Eddie said. Buck braced his hands. Eddie took one side of the beam. They counted. “On three. One… two…three.”

They heaved.

Joe screamed through gritted teeth as (Y/n) carefully slid the splint beneath his leg. The second it was in place, she went to stabilize it. Her fingers were quick, trained. Her jaw was tight with focus. But then a deafening crack sounded from above them.

She looked up and saw the second beam lurch forward.

Eddie called out her name. She didn’t have time to react.

His arm caught her across the middle, yanking her back just as the beam came down hard right where she had been standing. Her back slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of her with a startled gasp.

The beam hit the ground with a loud crash, sending up a cloud of dust and echoing metal. A sharp ringing filled her ears. (Y/n) didn’t move. She stared at the fallen beam, less than two feet from her boots, realization sinking in. That would’ve crushed her.

She turned slowly, breath shaky.

And that’s when she realized where she was and how she was standing. Pressed tightly into Eddie’s chest, both of his arms still wrapped around her. One had instinctively gone to her waist, the other gripping the back of her turnout jacket. His heart was pounding fast against her spine.

Her hands were resting flat against his chest, and she could feel every sharp breath he took. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. He was already looking down at her. Neither of them spoke. The air between them felt like it could crack from the weight of it.

Then (Y/n) broke the moment, pushing gently against his chest, stepping back. “Sorry,” she said softly, her hands still hovering where he’d been. “I—I didn’t mean to…” Eddie didn’t move. His hands slowly dropped to his sides, but his eyes never left her.

Behind them, Joe groaned again. (Y/n) snapped back into motion. “We need to get him out now.” she said, determined. But it was already too late.

Joe’s breathing was fading fast, his lips turning bluish, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “No, no Joe, stay with me.” she pleaded, checking his vitals. “Pulse is thready! He’s crashing!”

She grabbed her bag again, yanking out tools, adrenaline rushing through her veins like a wildfire would spread through the dryness of land. She knew the signs. Internal bleeding. Probably massive. Her fingers worked anyway. Oxygen, compressions, anything to keep him alive. She refused to lose him. Not like this.

“Come on, come on,” she whispered, pumping his chest. “Don’t you dare..” she gasped. Buck hovered nearby, quiet now. Eddie stepped closer, watching helplessly. They both knew the look in her eyes determined, relentless, breaking.

Finally, Eddie dropped to one knee beside her.

“(Y/n)...” His voice was soft, almost pleading. “He’s gone.”

“No.” Her eyes snapped to him, wild and filled with tears. “No, I can bring him back. I just need more time-” she gasped.

Eddie’s hand closed over hers, gently stopping the next compression. “(Y/n),” he said again, quieter now. “If we keep trying, we’re just hurting him more. You know that.”

Her lip trembled, but her hands went still. Reality settled in, and it hurt like hell.

She let go. Let her hands fall to her lap, covered in dust and blood. Joe’s chest didn’t rise. His body, still strapped to the splint, lay in eerie silence.

Eddie stayed beside her, not saying a word. Just being there.

She finally looked at him, really looked at him and didn’t know what she was supposed to feel anymore.

______

The ride back to the station was quiet.

(Y/n) sat in the passenger seat of the ambulance, staring out the window to her right, the lights of the city blurring by. Part of her wrists still had Joe's blood on them, dried and flaking. She hadn’t spoken since they left the scene.

No one forced her to.

Back at the station, the silence continued. Everyone moved around each other gently, giving space where it was clearly needed. It wasn’t the first time they’d lost someone on a call, but it had been so sudden, so cruel. And for (Y/n), it was personal. Too personal.

Even though (Y/n) had no connection to Joe before this, she was the one treating him. As the medic on scene his life was in her hands. She was the one who lived. Joe didn’t. It felt like life flipped a coin and decided who lived and who didn’t.

(Y/n) didn’t sit down with the others for the usual debrief. Instead, she went straight for the supply closet, muttering something about inventory. Bobby didn’t stop her. He just nodded once and let her go. Nobody tried to stop or pushed her to talk.

She stayed busy. She needed to. Cleaning equipment that didn’t need cleaning. Restocking gauze and IV bags. Running inventory on the med bags again. No one said anything, but her movements were sharp, robotic.

Hen watched her as she stood in the locker room. She crossed her arms and sighed as she watched (Y/n) in the ambulance. "She’s not okay," Hen muttered.

Chimney looked at Hen when he was taking something out of his locker, his eyes following Hen’s gaze. "She hasn’t said more than five words since we got back." Chim said as he continued to search through his locker.

"Yeah, and she’s said those five words to the broom closet." Hen said, turning to Chimney. They were both quiet for a moment, just watching their friend and colleague struggling to keep her own head above water. Trying not to drown.

"You think I should talk to her?" Hen asked.

Chim gave her a knowing look. "You can try. But when she’s like this... you know how she can be." He said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Hen sighed as she glanced at (Y/n) one more time. "Yeah. Stubborn as hell."

Upstairs in the loft, Buck leaned against the railing, watching as (Y/n) walked back and forth across the bay with a clipboard in her hands. She was talking to no one, checking things that had already been checked.

Eddie stood at the kitchen counter, empty mug in his hand as he reached for the filled coffee pot. Quiet.

"You gonna say something to her?" Buck asked casually, as he pushed himself off the railing and walked towards the kitchen island and leaned on that counter instead.

Eddie didn’t look up, his eyes locked on the mug in his hand and in the other hand a pot of coffee, which he was pouring into his cup. "She needs space." He said simply.

"She’s isolating," Buck countered. "That’s different. You of all people should know that." he continued as he tried to make eye contact with his friend. Desperately.

Eddie turned then, mug in hand, the tension clear in his shoulders. "What do you want me to say, Buck? That I saved her from being crushed by a metal beam, then watched her try to bring a guy back from the dead because she thought she could undo a crushed leg with a trauma kit?"

Buck raised his brows, but didn’t say anything.

Eddie sighed, softer this time. "We’ve been friends a long time. You know that. She’s been through a lot. But this... this one hit different."

"Different how?" Buck asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Eddie’s grip on the coffee mug tightened for a moment, eyes flicking toward the bay where (Y/n) was now double-checking a cabinet of trauma supplies for the third time.

“She’s always been the one who keeps it together,” Eddie said, voice lower now, thoughtful. “Even in the worst calls, she’s got this calm. This… steady presence. But this one?” He paused, jaw tightening again.

Buck watched him carefully, silent, before saying softly, “You should talk to her. Before that space she’s putting between you? Turns into a wall.”

Eddie swallowed hard, the weight of Buck’s words settling like stone in his chest. “What if she doesn’t want to hear it?”

��Then you say it anyway,” Buck replied. “Because she’d do the same for you. Hell, she has done the same for you.”

That landed. Hard. Eddie gave a slow, almost unnoticeable nod. “Yeah. You’re right.” he whispered.

Buck clapped a hand on his shoulder, then turned toward the stairs, his voice fading as he added, “She needs her people right now, Eddie. Make sure she knows you’re one of them.”

Eddie stood still in the kitchen a moment longer. He didn’t nod, didn’t speak. But when Buck left the loft, Eddie finally looked down at the ambulance bay again.

(Y/n) had stopped moving. She just stood there, leaning against the side of the ambulance, her head resting back against the cool metal, eyes closed.

He watched her, that familiar ache settling into his chest.

The station was still, the hum of the refrigerator was filling the silence that was left in the room after most of the 118 had gone to bed, the lights dimmed and the voices had faded. Only a soft flicker from the television lit the common area.

(Y/n) was curled up on the couch, her back resting against one armrest, legs stretched out, tucked under a blanket. One hand was holding the remote, the other was holding a cooling mug of tea. Her eyes flicked from channel to channel, as she clicked the next button on the remote.

Sleep felt like a trap tonight. She knew the second she laid in her bunk, the silence would give her brain all the room it needed to spiral.

She clicked again on the next button to switch the channel, and that’s when Taylor Kelly appeared on the screen.

The reporter stood outside the scene of the construction site from earlier that day, her voice smooth and rehearsed as she detailed the "chaotic collapse" and "heroic response from LAFD."

(Y/n) squinted at her words. She listened for a moment, but the way Taylor described what happened on that call was exaggerated, dramatized, a performance meant for ratings.

"That's such bullshit," (Y/n) muttered, just loud enough to carry through the loft, and took a sip of her tea.

A soft clink from the kitchen followed.

Eddie had entered the loft quietly searching for water and heard her comment. He didn't say anything right away, just moved gently to avoid startling her. After a moment, he walked over to the couch, still in his sweatpants and t-shirt, and dropped down at her feet. Without asking, he tugged some of the blanket over his thighs, settling in beside her like he had done countless times before.

"Taylor Kelly at it again," he said, nodding toward the screen.

(Y/n) scoffed. "I get that she's a reporter, but she wasn't even there. She makes it sound like we swooped in like action movie stars and just saved the day." she said annoyed as she took another sip and placed it onto the coffee table.

"You did what you could," Eddie said softly. "More than most could have." he added, trying to make eye contact with her. But she didn’t answer that. Her eyes stayed glued on the screen, but the image blurred.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked gently. (Y/n) gave a small shake of her head, her voice quieter now. "No. I thought maybe distracting myself would help. Because every time I close my eyes, I see Joe. Hear the sound of that beam hitting."

Eddie looked at her, his eyes softened at the way she opened up. "I keep thinking about how close it was. That moment. If I hadn’t seen it fall.."

"You did. That’s what matters," she said, cutting him off. But her voice faltered. She didn’t like thinking about it. They sat in silence for a beat.

Then she spoke again, quieter. "I thought I could save him. I thought if I worked fast enough, if I gave him enough meds, got the IV in on time... that maybe he’d have a shot." she said as her eyes finally wandered to something else but the screen. She looked down at her hands.

Eddie didn’t rush to respond. He let the words sit there between them, real and raw. "You did everything right," he finally said. "But sometimes... that just isn’t enough." he told her. He wanted to let her know that she couldn’t save everyone. She wasn’t some kind of guardian angel.

Eyes wandered to look at him, eyes glassy. "How do you deal with that? When the job isn’t enough?" she asked as she wiped a tear away.

Eddie leaned back a little, letting his hand rest on top of the blanket where it covered her shin. His thumb brushed lightly, not enough to make it weird, just enough to be present. "You keep going. You show up. And you let the people who care about you be there."

(Y/n)'s throat tightened. She looked away quickly, blinking fast. "I’m trying." she said, her voice on the edge of breaking. He nodded slowly. "You don’t have to do it alone. You never have."

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away either. And that silence said enough. (Y/n) exhaled slowly, the tension between them softening into something unspoken. The room felt warmer with Eddie beside her, even if the silence stretched a little longer than it normally would. It wasn’t awkward, it was a comfortable silence.

Eddie motioned towards the screen, “Come on there has to be something better than this puppet show of Taylor Kelly.” he said.

She reached for the remote again, continuing her aimless switching between channels. A sitcom flickered across the screen, then a cooking show, then some old rerun of a crime drama.

"Hold on, go back," Eddie said, leaning slightly forward. "I like that one." he said. (Y/n) looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "You like That show?"

"Yeah, what’s wrong with it?" he asked.

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Eddie, that is quite literally the worst show ever made. We are not watching that.” she told him. He grinned, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Okay, wow, dramatic. What’d it ever do to you?”

"Offended me. Personally. In every possible way," she replied, deadpan while she continued zapping. Eddie laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly as he kept his hand on the blanket and shin.

"Alright, your call," he said, lifting his hands in surrender. "But you’re missing out on peak television."

"You can suffer through it on your own time, Diaz."

He shifted on the couch, getting more comfortable under the shared blanket. "Guess I’ll just have to settle for your terrible taste, then." She rolled her eyes but didn’t fight the soft smile pulling at her lips.

Finally (Y/n) stopped switching channels as she found an episode of “Law And Order: SVU” and for a moment, the heaviness of the day felt a little lighter.

_______

It had been a few shifts since the worst shift of all time. At least that’s how she remembered it. The call that haunted her dreams and creeped into her mind now and then, was now just another file in a closed report.

(Y/n) had worked hard to push through, diving headfirst into every shift. She stayed late. Took the extra shifts. Laughed when someone cracked a joke. Smiled when Hen passed her a cup of coffee. But the smile she projected didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t real.

This call came in just after breakfast. A call about a teenager pinned beneath fallen debris on a busy street. No fire. No collapsed buildings. Just an accident. A load of metal poles had slipped off the back of a moving work truck and landed on a kid walking to school.

Hen was behind the wheel of the ambulance like always, as (Y/n) sat beside her.

They arrived with the rest of the 118, who spilled out of the truck and engine in practiced formation. Bobby assessed the scene, voice cutting clean through the chaos.

“Eddie, Buck, Chimney, secure the area. Check the load. Make sure nothing else is unstable. Hen, (Y/n), assess the victim.” he ordered. (Y/n) simply nodded as her partner said “Copy that, cap”

(Y/n) was already moving, she moved towards the ambulance to get her med bag as Hen made her way towards the victim. Her boots hit the pavement hard as she made her way towards the ambulance and opened the right compartment to fish her medic bag out.

When she made her way back, her eyes were locked on the victim. A boy, maybe fifteen, lay on the concrete, his lower body trapped under three long steel poles. One had grazed his abdomen. He was conscious, but fading fast.

“What’s your name?” she heard Hen ask as she arrived and crouched on the other side of the boy. “J-Jason,” he stammered, voice thick with pain. “Jason, I’m Hen, and this is (Y/n). You’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me, alright?” Hen said as she started working her magic.

Hen glanced over the injuries. “We’ve got minutes before shock hits. I need to assess his vitals.” (Y/n) nodded quickly and set her bag beside her, her blue gloved hands already moving to open it.

But when Hen asked, “Can you grab the IV kit and oxygen mask?” it was like everything inside her stalled. Her fingers hovered just inches from the supplies, but they wouldn’t close around anything.

Everything around her was muted all of the sudden. The sound of groaning metal filled her ears. The gasps for air of Joe. The loud bang when the beam hit the floor. For just a second, she was back there. Kneeling beside a man she wanted to save so desperately. Blood on her gloves, the feeling of Eddie’s arms pulling her back.

She was frozen. But a familiar voice brought her back to reality. “(Y/n)?” Hen asked, a slight worried tone in her voice. (Y/n) blinked for a second, as she locked eyes with Hen. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You don’t have to-”

But (Y/n) shook her head. “I’m okay. An IV kit and oxygen mask? Give me a second.” she rattled. Without any confirmation from Hen, she stood up and made her way towards the ambulance, hunting for the two things her partner had asked for.

(Y/n) opened the back doors of the ambulance, and entered, grabbing everything she needed. "Hey. (Y/n)?" another familiar voice asked. (Y/n) didn’t even spare him a glance, she needed to grab the supplies for Hen. As some kind of reaction, she hummed.

Her eyes met Eddie’s as soon as she had everything she needed and made her way to exit the ambulance again. Eddie stood at the back of the ambulance, eyes narrowed slightly as concern was written all over his face. He had jogged over after noticing the conversation between Hen and her.

"You okay? Need help?" he asked as she hopped out of the back of the ambulance. (Y/n) blinked, “I’ve got it,” she said, slightly annoyed. Pushing the supplies to her chest a little tighter. Why was everyone doubting her?

Eddie took a half-step back, hands raised, but his eyes didn’t leave her. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, softer this time. Gentle. “You don’t have to do this alone.” he continued as (Y/n) started to make her way back to Hen with the victim.

“I said I’ve got it, okay?” she snapped, sharper than the meant to.

She made a little run back to Hen. All that talking made them lose time. Her pulse was racing, her skin hot under her gear, but she grounded herself with each step back toward the victim.

Hen glanced up as she returned and didn’t say anything. She just took the oxygen mask from her and nodded. “Good. Let’s get him stable.” Hen said. And that’s what they did.

She slipped the IV into place, her fingers steadying now that her focus was locked on Jason. She spoke softly to him, kept him awake and held his hand as Hen monitored the bleeding and prepared to remove the beam.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Buck and Chim setting up cribbing. Their movements were fast but careful, placing the wooden blocks to stabilize the fallen metal.

Time felt like it was slipping through their fingers, and Jason’s breathing was growing more labored by the second. “We’re almost set,” Buck called.

Hen looked at the vitals. “We need to get this beam off now. He’s fading.”

Eddie was already moving. He turned on his heel and jogged back toward the ambulance. Within seconds, he was wheeling the gurney toward them, the thick tires bumping over the asphalt.

“Alright,” Hen nodded, meeting everyone’s eyes for just a beat. “One... two... three- lift!”

With coordinated effort, the team carefully shifted the weight of the beam, sliding it just enough to clear Jason’s lower body. Hen and (Y/n) were immediately on him, securing his spine, stabilizing his head and neck while Eddie helped Chim and Buck for a moment.

Eddie and Buck helped transfer Jason onto the backboard and onto the gurney in one clean motion. He groaned in pain but stayed conscious, but barely. “You’re doing great, Jason,” (Y/n) said, her hand pressing gently against his shoulder. “You’re almost there.”

Hen secured the straps, and began pushing the gurney toward the ambulance as soon as they were ready. (Y/n) followed on the other side, her hand still on Jason, grounding both herself and the boy as she helped push the gurney.

(Y/n) climbed in the back of the ambulance, and they loaded Jason in the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed shut behind them. And then it was quiet again. (Y/n) stood frozen for a moment, her gloves sticky, the adrenaline still pulsing in her veins.

Her eyes locked with Eddie’s through the small window of the ambulance, the look said it all. There weren’t any words needed. And then his fist banged against the ambulance back doors. Giving Hen the sign they were all set to go.

She could push people away all she wanted, but he was still there. And somewhere deep down, it terrified her how much she needed that. Even though she didn’t want to admit it.

The drive back from the hospital was quiet, aside from the soft hum of the engine and the faint shifting of coffee cups in the cupholders. Hen had pulled into a drive-thru on the way back. They pulled into the station’s bay, the ambulance settling into its usual spot. But neither of them moved to get out.

The vehicle was put in park. Hen put the engine off and kept one hand on the wheel, the other had the keys to the rig in between her index finger and her thumb. She sighed as she grabbed her coffee with the hand she used to turn off the engine of the ambulance. Hen took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes were distant, fixed on the open garage door as the both of them remained in the ambulance.

“You know,” Hen spoke up after a long beat, her voice calm but low, “A few years ago, I T-boned a car that was speeding through an intersection on a red light. We were mid-response, full sirens, but the girl in that car was sixteen. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t see us.” she said as she kept looking straight ahead.

(Y/n) turned her head slowly to look at her partner. Hen’s fingers drummed softly against her coffee cup. “I watched her crash, and then I had to get out of the ambulance and treat her. She didn’t make it. I couldn’t stop seeing her face for months.” Hen added to her story.

The silence between them stretched but it wasn’t awkward “I didn’t know that,” (Y/n) finally whispered. Hen smiled sadly, sending her a quick glance.

“I didn’t tell many people. I buried it for a while. Told myself it was just part of the job. But it ate me alive. I started hesitating at scenes. I’d second guess everything. It took me nearly a year before I could look at an intersection without flinching or being reminded of that day.”

(Y/n)’s throat tightened. Her voice was rough when she spoke. “I keep seeing Joe.” (Y/) suddenly whispered. “Every time I blink, every time I hear something crash or someone scream… he’s there. Dying. And I… I couldn’t save him. I tried. I really tried.” she said as she used her thigh as a platform to lean on with her coffee cup and stared at it for a moment.

“I know you did.” Hen said, looking to her right, trying to make eye contact. “But I failed him, Hen. I see his face and I think what if it happens again? What if I freeze again? What if I can’t do it next time?” tears were burning into (Y/n)’s eyes as she managed to glance back at her friend.

Hen reached across the console, her hand resting on (Y/n)’s, which was still holding the cup. “But you did do it. Today. You saved that kid, even when your brain was trying to drag you backward. You pulled yourself out.” Hen tried to encourage her as she gave her hand a slight squeeze. ”That’s strength, (Y/n). That’s what makes you good at this.”

A tear slipped down (Y/n)’s cheek. She didn’t wipe it away. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” Hen continued softly. “And you don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Trauma leaves cracks, but cracks let people in.”

(Y/n) managed a small, watery smile. “You’re like my big sister, you know that?”

Hen chuckled, wiping under her own eye. “I better be. Lord knows I’m too young to be your cool aunt.” They laughed, quietly. And when the laughs turned into silence, (Y/n) broke it one more time. “Thanks Hen.” she whispered. (Y/n) received another soft squeeze on her forearm, combined with a reassuring smile.

(Y/n) walked back from the supply closet, arms full of freshly packed trauma gear. Her eyes were focused on the task, on the way the plastic crinkled in her hands, on not dropping anything. The hallway was dim and silent, most of the station had gone to the bunks.

She made her way across the room towards the ambulance,just as she rounded the corner, she almost jumped out of her skin, gasping when she saw a figure standing there.

“Jesus,” she hissed, a hand flying to her chest while she managed to keep all the supplies in her arms clutched to her chest. Not dropping any of them to the ground. “That’s not creepy at all.” she added as she caught her breath for a second.

Eddie stood with his back leaned casually against the rig, arms crossed tightly. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, and didn’t say anything. Her heart still racing, she muttered under her breath and shook it off, continuing toward the ambulance. Whatever.

She climbed up into the back of the ambulance, placing the supplies back where it belonged. Restocking. Organizing. Keeping her hands busy. Pretending like he wasn’t there. But he was.

Eddie moved into the open doorway of the ambulance, his silhouette blocking out the tube lights from the bay. Watching her. Close. Still silent. Not creepy at all.

“You good?” she asked, glancing at him as she felt the eyes burning into her skin. A flash of concern slipped through before she masked it. “You’ve been standing there like a ghost.” she added as she gave him a confused look. What did he want?

He shrugged, but his jaw was tight. “You tell me.” he said. (Y/n)’s stomach twisted at the tone of his voice. She stepped out of the rig, brushing past him “I don’t want to do this right now, Eddie.” she told him.

(Y/n) moved to the side of the ambulance to get to the front and grab the clipboard she had left in the front. She opened the passenger door and grabbed the clipboard. When she closed the door again and turned on her heels she stopped dead in her tracks. Eddie was still standing with her. Just keeping a distance between the two of them.

But Eddie stepped closer, quiet but certain. His movement sent a rush through her chest. She tried to push the feeling she felt in her chest away and walk past him, but he stepped in front of her, gently but firmly blocking her path.

The only light source came from overhead lights above them, casting long shadows behind them. Close. Quiet. Tense.

“I had it under control,” she bit out before he could speak. “I don’t need you watching over me like I’m some kid. Like I’m going to shatter if someone breathes too hard.” she defended herself. “That’s not what I was-” Eddie started, frustration brimming.

“You think because I had one bad call, I can’t do this anymore?” she snapped, voice still low but sharp. “You think I need someone to hold my hand?” She shot at him.

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie tried to keep his voice calm.

“But you thought it.” (Y/n) said a bit louder as she pressed her fingers tightly into the clipboard.

“I was trying to help you—” His voice became louder too.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” She shouted, immediately regretting her loud reaction. “You didn’t have to!” he shouted back, his voice echoing just once before he dropped it again. He rubbed his hand across his forehead, the other on his hip, like he was trying to hold back everything that wanted to come pouring out. “Hen asked if you were okay. She would’ve handled it. You could’ve stepped back.” he formed the image, his voice on a normal volume again.

“And then what?” she seethed. “Let everyone think I’m too fragile? I’m not some glass doll, Eddie.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. And his voice cracked a little when he said it. “You’re not. But you’re carrying everything like you have to prove it to us. Like you have to prove it to me.”

Her expression hardened, “What do you want from me?” she asked him, almost sounding desperate. He stared at her. The words hovered in his mouth for one moment, and then another. And then they broke free from the cage he had placed them in for a long, long time.

“I care,” he said. “I care too damn much, okay? I’m not good at saying it. I didn’t want to make things harder for you. But I love you.” he blurted it all out, rattling more.

The words hit the space between them like a tidal wave. Her breath caught. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. “What?” she whispered, dazed and confused.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I’ve loved you longer than I even realized. You scare the hell out of me because you’re the one person I can’t lose.”

Silence. Not even the hum of an engine. Just their breathing. Their eyes locked. And then suddenly, desperately, he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

One hand cradled her cheek, the other gripped her hip like he needed her to stay attached to him, to this moment. Her body froze, shocked, but her hands found him anyway. One gripped his upper arm, the other pressed firmly into his chest. Pushing him away from her.

She stepped back, creating some distance between them again. But then, their eyes met again, wide and terrified and raw. And before she even knew what she was doing, she was crashing back into Eddie again. All the frustration, the longing, the words they never said all of it spilled into that kiss.

This time, the kiss was slower. Fierce still, but filled with more than heat, there was something tender threaded through it. (Y/n) dropped the clipboard as her fingers slipped to the back of his head, slightly pulling his hair. Her other hand was placed on his neck. His thumb brushed just beneath her eye.

And then a voice called out from the bay, calling out for (Y/n).

They broke apart instantly.

Breathing hard, they jumped back like teenagers caught sneaking out. (Y/n) wiped her mouth instinctively, eyes wide in panic. Eddie turned his head slightly, already trying to play it off as he gave the clipboard that fell onto the ground a little push so it’s underneath the ambulance. Like nothing had happened there.

Buck rounded the corner in his sweatpants and station t-shirt, walking casually behind the rig and the engine, his eyes fixed on a small tablet in his hand. He didn’t even glance up at first until he stopped walking, sensing something.

His head lifted. His eyes took in the scene.

Two friends. Standing too far apart to be casual. Faces flushed. Chests heaving just slightly too fast.

Buck’s brow arched, his lips twitched into a knowing grin. “What’s going on here?” he asked, already smirking, like he sensed something had been going on before he walked in. (Y/n) straightened, forcing the most neutral look she could manage. “Nothing.”

“Yeah. Nothing,” Eddie echoed, his voice tight but impressively composed.

Buck looked between them slowly, deliberately, like someone who’d just walked in on a plot twist in real time. “Sure,” he said with a slow nod. “Anyway… Hen was looking for you,” he said to (Y/n), still grinning.

“Right,” she said, swallowing thickly. “Thanks.”

As she turned to walk away, brushed past Eddie, way too close, for the smallest second. She looked back over her shoulder at him when she had passed Buck, and their eyes locked. Something still burned there unfinished, unresolved.

Buck didn’t move right away.

He stayed with Eddie between the ambulance and the rig, watching (Y/n)’s figure disappear into the shadows of the station. His eyes flicked back to Eddie, who was still standing in front of Buck, arms now crossed tightly over his chest, as if that would somehow contain everything that just happened.

Buck tilted his head, arms folded too now, one eyebrow raised. “So… you sure you wanna stick with the ‘nothing happened’ story?”

Eddie exhaled through his nose, slowly. Controlled. “Yeah.”

Buck wasn’t quite convinced. “Because from where I was standing, that ‘nothing’ looked a hell of a lot like something.”

Eddie gave a one-shouldered shrug, jaw tight. “You saw what you wanted to see.” Eddie said as he had an innocent expression projected on his face.

Buck let out a short laugh, dry and disbelieving. “Eddie, I’ve known you too long. You’re practically vibrating.” He pointed loosely at his best friend’s chest. “And don’t think I missed the way she looked at you just now. That wasn’t nothing. That was… capital-S Something.”

Eddie’s face didn’t shift, but his fingers twitched slightly at his side. “Drop it, Buck.” Eddie said.

“You kissed her, didn’t you?” Buck then asked. “No,” Eddie said quickly. Way too quickly. Buck raised both brows, unimpressed. “Dude.” he laughed.

Eddie passed him as he turned toward the hallway, as if movement might end the conversation. “Nothing happened.” Eddie kept holding on.

Buck didn’t follow right away, he just stood there for a beat, watching his friend walk away with tension in his shoulders and guilt written all over his back. “Alright,” Buck muttered under his breath, smirking to himself. “Nothing happened.” But as he turned away, he said it with a grin.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddiediaz #eddie diaz

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lyjen · 20 days ago

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just read your most recent evan buckley fic and i love it so much!! your work is so amazing and i’d love to see you write more evan buckley fics like that one in the future :))

Thankyou for your kind words!! ❤️🥹 I’m so happy people are willing to read my stories! More Buck fics are planned and Eddie fics too! 🫶🏽

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lyjen · 1 month ago

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Please do more Evan Buckley writes!! I can’t get enough of them 🤞🏼🙌🏼🫶🏼

I’ve been trying to switch between Eddie and Buck! 🩷 I’m working now on a new Eddie fic but after that there will be another Buck story!! 🥹

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lyjen · 1 month ago

Text

Lose Control | Evan "Buck" Buckley

Summary: (Y/n) goes unusually quiet when one morning she glances at the phone of her boyfriend and finds his ex texting him. When Buck chooses to confront her with the fact why she’s avoiding him, an argument follows. The 118 gets dispatched to a cruise ship disaster. Can the two of them still rely on each other when things go south on call?

Trigger warnings: Manipulation, betrayal, anxiety, intense arguments, drowning and injuries involving some blood.

Request status: OPEN ✨

Word count: 9,6k

A/N: I'm so so sorry for keeping y'all waiting for so long. 🥺💔 I’ve been busy with work, traveling to Paris for a convention (SLC hehe), concerts. BUT IM BACK!!

9-1-1 Masterlist

(Gif by @adhdbuck)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Before shift | Buck & (Y/n)’s apartment | 6:03 AM

Sunrise crept through the bedroom blinds, projecting shadows across the floor and the rumpled sheets they'd just crawled out of. The room still held the warmth of sleep. That comfortable, lazy stillness that came just before a long day. Or in this case.. a long shift.

(Y/n) stood in front of the mirror, half-dressed in her uniform pants and a simple tank top. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail. Her eyelids were still heavy, the kind of sleepiness that lingered even after coffee, but her movements were steady. The day was already beginning to take shape in her head: call logs, traffic, vitals, triage.

Behind her, she heard the soft padding of bare feet on the wood floor. Then warm hands slid around her waist from behind.

She smirked faintly, as she met his eyes in the mirror just as Buck leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck. “You look good,” he murmured, voice low and husky with sleep, “even when you just woke up.”

(Y/n) huffed a sleepy breath of amusement. “That’s because you’re still half-asleep.” she said as she tightened the ponytail she had just finished wrapping the hair tie around.

He didn’t say anything. Instead of answering with words, he buried his face against her skin for a second, breathing her in like she was grounding him. He tightened his arms slightly, like he didn’t want to let go yet.

(Y/n) smiled, it was a small but real smile. She leaned back into his chest just for a second as she let her eyes flutter closed. Just the two of them, standing in that quiet space between night and day. Just a moment before all the chaos of the day started all over again.

“You better get ready,” she said as her eyes fluttered open again. She gently nudged his hip with hers. “We’re on shift in less than an hour.” Buck groaned dramatically at the words that left her mouth. “I hate mornings.” he mumbled as he pressed one last kiss into the crook of her neck, and loosened his grip on her body.

She rolled her eyes, lips twitching. “Then you picked the wrong job, Buckley.” she said as she turned around, facing Buck now. “I picked it for the hot paramedic,” he said with a smirk spread across his face. Pressing a kiss onto her forehead, making her laugh.

He pulled away with a grin and disappeared back into the bathroom. Silence settled again.

(Y/n) exhaled, shaking her head a little as she reached for her uniform shirt. She grabbed it off the chair and pulled it on slowly as she stood in front of the mirror again. Still smiling to herself at the comment Buck had made.

The screen of Buck’s phone lit up because of the notifications that were coming in as it vibrated on the nightstand. But she kept her eyes on her reflection in the mirror, buttoning her shirt.

Not shortly after the first notification, his phone vibrated again.

She adjusted her collar in the mirror and straightened the fabric of the shirt she had just put on. She grabbed her black smartwatch off the dresser, and slid it onto her wrist. The strap snagged for a second, her hands slightly less steady than usual.

Another vibration of the phone sounded through the space. Her gaze, casual and unintentional, drifted toward the nightstand. She didn’t mean to look, she needed to get the watch around her wrist. But she was annoyed at the fact it wasn’t working and the constant buzzing wasn’t helping. But there was also a part of her that was asking herself, who needed Buck at 6 AM?

But the screen lit up, and it said: “Taylor K.”

Her fingers froze on the watch strap.

She blinked once, then twice, as the messages came in one after another. Just enough of them appeared on-screen to make her stomach twist.

“I keep remembering that night..”

“You don’t have to respond, I just..”

“I shouldn’t have said anything that night. I know it was messy, but I keep thinking about it.”

Her body didn’t move. Not a twitch. But her throat tightened like someone had reached in and pressed a hand against her windpipe. A quiet panic slid beneath her skin, slow and cold.

What night? What was she talking about? Why was Taylor texting him at all? Was he cheating on her? Was he bored of their relationship?

Then the water stopped in the bathroom.

(Y/n) blinked, her expression flattening like a shield locking into place. She flexed her fingers, and finally managed to fasten it tightly, double-checked the fit by looking in the mirror.

Footsteps thudded softly against the wood floor as Buck stepped out of the steamy bathroom, towel around his waist, rubbing at his hair with another. “Have you seen my station shirt?” he asked, voice casual, distracted, scanning the floor around the bed.

“Folded on the chair,” she answered without looking at him.

He looked up. “Oh- .. right.”

He moved past her to grab it, pausing to shake the fabric out before tossing it onto the bed. (Y/n) watched him in the mirror: damp curls clinging to his forehead, the faint outline of old bruises on his ribs from their last call, the way he hummed absently under his breath as he started to get dressed like nothing was wrong.

She put on her boots and pulled her jacket from the hook, slid it on, and adjusted the zipper halfway up. Not too fast. Not too stiff. Her motions were practiced, calm on the outside, even as a storm was raging just beneath her skin.

Buck was walking down the stairs, shirt half-buttoned as he continued to button the last ones. “You want to stop for coffee on the way? I think we’ve got time.” he asked as he reached for his shoes and put them on too.

“Sure,” she said, her voice smooth. Easy. Like nothing was going on. He grinned at her, all warmth and sunshine. “God, I’m gonna need it. I feel like I didn’t sleep at all.”

She smiled, barely. “You slept.” She said as she grabbed her duffle bag and slung the strap over her shoulder and waited for Buck.

Buck didn’t catch the edge in her voice. Or if he did, he chalked it up to another early morning. He finished tying his shoes, grabbed his bag, and moved to the door. Reached for her hand like he always did.

She let him take it. But her grip was light, and her fingers didn’t curl into his like she used to… And he didn’t notice.

The firehouse buzzed with its usual morning rhythm. Boots stomping across concrete, the distant sputter of the coffee machine, radios buzzing with the first dispatch of the day. The air was a mix of diesel, detergent, and last night’s chili.

Buck and (Y/n) walked in side by side, but nothing about their body language said together. Their movements were slightly out of sync, him too casual, her too precise. (Y/n) hadn’t said a word since they left the apartment.

“Morning, you two,” Eddie said when the two of them entered the locker room, and tossed a granola bar into his locker. Buck grinned. “Didn’t think you’d be this chipper without caffeine.”

“Chipper? Man, I’m surviving. My kid just turned my living room into a volcano science project. I’m running on fumes and parental fear.” Eddie deadpanned, stretching his shoulders. A couple of the others chuckled.

But (Y/n) said nothing and opened her locker as the others continued their conversation. She placed her duffle in the locker and closed it. She needed to get her mind off whatever she had read this morning, so instead of making small talk, she decided to go straight to work.

But Buck caught up behind her, still oblivious to the shift in temperature. She almost left the locker room, but then Buck called her name. She stopped, glanced over her shoulder for a moment. “Didn’t forget your water bottle this time,” he said, pulling it from his bag and offering it with a boyish grin.

She looked at it. Then at him.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. And then she continued her way, off toward the ambulance bay, her focus already zeroed in.

Her expression was unreadable, but inside, though, her mind was a thundering blur. She could still see the texts. She could still hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears when she read Taylor’s name. “That night…” What night? What the hell was she talking about? What the hell was he not telling her?

She felt it like smoke in the air. That slow, creeping suspicion curling beneath her ribs. Sharp. Wrong.

(Y/n) popped open the rear doors of the ambulance and climbed in. The familiar scent of antiseptic and rubber greeted her. Cool, clean. Predictable. She moved with efficiency, but there was no softness in her rhythm. It was all muscle memory and distraction.

Glove boxes - stocked.

Airway bags - organized.

IV kits - sealed.

Med drawer - untouched since last shift.

She moved through the rig quickly but with precision, hands checking and counting automatically. It was her ritual. Control. Order. Something solid while her mind swirled with the weight of Taylor’s texts, Buck’s silence, and the terrible ache of not knowing the truth.

She reached for the defib unit and ran the battery check. A soft green light blinked at her, all systems go. She exhaled. Finally, something that made sense.

Boots stomped against the concrete, coming closer. She didn’t look up right away. She already knew the footsteps. It was Hen.

“Morning” Hen’s voice broke through the noise of her thoughts. Warm. Steady. “Everything good here?” she asked. (Y/n) glanced up to find her leaning against the rig’s rear doors, sipping from her metal coffee mug.

“Morning,” she said, as she nodded once, eyes still on the equipment. “Fully stocked. Oxygen’s at 1200 PSI. We’re good.”

But Hen caught it. The tightness around her eyes, the clipped edge to her voice.

“Early rig check?” Hen asked casually. “Wanted to get ahead,” (Y/n) replied, reaching for the O2 gauge. Hen took a sip from her coffee, “Or avoid something?”. (Y/n) froze, just for a second. A little bit caught off guard. A tired, faint and forced -kinda- smile appeared on her face. “Hen…”

Hen raised a hand. “No pressure. Just an observation.” she told her. (Y/n) gave a quiet exhale through her nose, then looked down at the monitor wires she was untangling. Her hands were steady, but her heart wasn’t.

“So let me ask again, is everything good here?” Hen asked. (Y/n)’s hands were still holding the wires, and sighed softly. “I’m fine.”

Hen didn’t speak right away. She just nodded once, slow and thoughtful. She didn’t push. Not yet. But she didn’t back off either.

“Well,” she said, “You’re checking that rig like it insulted your mother. And Buck looks like a puppy who doesn’t know he peed on the carpet.” A flicker of something crossed (Y/n)’s face. She dropped her gaze, fidgeting with the wires in her hand.

Hen waited.

Finally, (Y/n) spoke. Calm, but her gaze locked on her hands. “He’s lying to me. Or hiding something. And I’m trying to decide which is worse.” she explained.

Hen’s expression softened instantly. “You want to talk about it?” she asked. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, but shook her head “Not yet.” she said now, glancing at Hen.

Hen gave a small nod. “Okay. But when you’re ready… you know where to find me.” she said as she gave her a small smile. “Thanks Hen.” (Y/n) said, giving her a small smile back and with that, Hen stepped away and left her alone in the back of the rig.

Surrounded by order, but full of quiet chaos.

In the back of the ambulance, (Y/n) was wiping down the last of the rig’s interior, methodical and silent. She didn’t rush. Her hands moved almost automatically: disinfectant spray, rag, clipboard check. All muscle memory. But none of it helped the storm boiling in her chest.

She stepped out of the back, a hollow sound echoing as her boots hit the ground while she held the clipboard and the half-used bottle of disinfectant. She placed them both on one of the red benches they used for morning briefings.

Buck stood just a few feet away, rag in hand, wiping down the side of the firetruck like it was something he actually cared about, but his eyes tracked her every movement. He hadn’t spoken to her in hours, not since their morning shift started.

If he wanted to talk, this might be a good moment. While holding the rag -as some kind of fidgeting tool- in his hand, he slowly made his way towards (Y/n). “Hey,” he said cautiously, testing the weight of the word.

She didn’t even spare him a glance as she walked back towards the ambulance. It wasn’t like she couldn’t hear him, he was standing too close for that. “(Y/n), wait- ” he said.

He could feel it. The tension, hanging in the air like something was wrong. He followed her, towards the ambulance, where she hopped in the back. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but loud enough for her to hear him. Careful. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or am I supposed to guess?” he asked as he leaned with his right arm against the backdoor frame of the ambulance.

She didn’t answer him, but stopped in her movements. Shoulders tense. Back still turned.

He let out a breath. “(Y/n), come on. You haven’t looked at me all day. You haven’t smiled. You barely even said hi this morning—”

“I’m fine,” she cut in sharply, still not meeting his eyes but continuing her tasks. “Can we not do this here?” she sighs. But Buck shook his head, stepping in front of her, forcing her to either face him or walk away. “No. No, I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it’s clearly not.”

“Buck,” she said, her tone a warning, using the side door of the ambulance to aim again for the red bench, but this time with a small basket in her hand.

He ignored her words, he pushes himself off the doorframe and blocks her path this time. “What did I do? Just tell me. Because this silence is killing me.”

There was a snap in her eyes now as he stood right in front of her, panic? Anger? Pain? “Can you not.. can you not do this right here, right now?” she sighs as she tries to avoid eye contact.

His voice raised slightly, desperate. “Why not? Are you gonna keep ignoring me? Keep walking past me like I’m not-”

“Buck, stop-”

“-like I’m not yours anymore?” he asks.

That did it.

Her eyes were closed for a second, as a loud sigh left her mouth. She moved to stand next to him now, shoulder to shoulder. Fire flashing behind her eyes as she hissed, “Stop making a scene.” and she walked away to place the goods onto the bench again.

A few heads turned from across the bay as Buck looked around, then ran a hand down his face. “Shit.” he mumbled to himself.

Then he did something he rarely ever did with her. He turned on his heels and walked towards her again. But this time he wasn’t aiming for a conversation in the middle of the firehouse, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Come with me.” he said.

His hand was strong, “What? No- Buck, let go-” she hissed at him as she tried to break free from his grip. But his grip tightened, not hurting her, but enough to guide her down the hall. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Evan—”

“Now.”

She tried to yank her arm away once, twice, but he was too strong and too determined. He led her into the nearest empty supply room. Cold, quiet, dimly lit, and slammed the door shut behind them.

And then turned. Eyes blazing.

“We’re not leaving this room until you tell me what the hell is going on.” he sounded determined.

(Y/n) stood with her back against the wall, chest heaving. She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I didn’t want to do this here,” she said with an annoyed tone.

“Well, we’re here,” he said. “So talk to me.”

(Y/n) paced, arms tightly crossed, eyes locked on the floor like it had personally betrayed her. Her jaw was clenched so tight, she was sure it would ache by the time this was over if it ever ended.

Buck was blocking the door. She wasn’t getting out of this room. And he wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said coldly, not looking at him. “Well, too bad,” Buck snapped, chest rising with frustration. He had his arms crossed and was leaning with his shoulder against one of the rack units. “We’re not walking out of here until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

(Y/n) let out a bitter breath and finally met his eyes. “You really want to do this here?”

“I have to,” he said, stepping forward. “Because whatever this is… it’s been eating at you all day, and I’m not stupid, (Y/n). I know when I’ve lost you.” he said, his eyes burning on (Y/n).

“You didn’t lose me.” she whispered, not sure if she wanted him to hear that, but he did. His brows pulled together, desperate. “Then what the hell is this?” he asked as he pushed himself off the wall, standing straight across from her.

She took another step back, shaking her head. “No. You don’t get to play innocent.” she told him. “I’m not,” Buck said quickly. “I’m just trying to understand—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, voice trembling. “Don’t do that thing where you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Tears were welling up in her eyes, but she pushed those away.

“I’m not pretending!” Buck said, louder now. “I’m standing here trying to get through to you and you won’t even let me in. You won’t talk to me and you keep avoiding me like I'm some kind of disease!”

“Because I saw it, Buck!” she finally yelled, voice cracking, breaking as the truth came to light. “I saw the messages!”

Silence slammed into the room.

Buck’s mouth parted, but he said nothing. (Y/n)’s hands were trembling now as she forced the words out. “Taylor. This morning. Your phone was lighting up while you were in the bathroom and I-” She swallowed, shaking her head. “I saw her name. And I saw what she said. That she remembered ‘that night.’ That she shouldn’t have said anything.” word after word, her voice started breaking more and more. Tears were streaming down her face. She feels mad, sad, betrayed.

Buck stepped forward, guilt already warping his face. “I can explain-” he said as he wanted to reach out for her arm. But the second his fingertips touched her arm she pulled away abruptly. “Don’t,” she said quickly, backing away from his approach. “Don’t touch me.” she cried.

He stopped cold, his hand still mid-air where her arm used to be a second ago. “(Y/n)-”

“Don’t touch me.” She repeated her words again, her voice dropped an octave, laced with hurt and fury. “I swear to God, Buck.”

He lowered his hand slowly, his throat working like it physically hurt to speak. “It was months ago. Before you and I were… anything. I haven’t spoken to her in months.” he tried to explain.

“You never told me,” she said, her voice softer now, and somehow worse. “You let me fall for you. You let me think I was different.”

“You are,” Buck said instantly. “You are different. That night-”

“Was what? A mistake?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “You needed someone to make you feel better, so you ran back to what was easy?”

He said nothing. Which was enough.

She stepped forward now, words trembling with restrained fury. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up next to you, love you with everything I have, only to see those messages?”

Buck’s voice cracked. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d see it like this.” he told her.

“And you didn’t think I deserved to make that decision for myself?”

“Of course you did,” he whispered.

“Then why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie!” he shouted, suddenly exasperated. “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t something I was proud of. It meant nothing.”

“It meant enough for her to still think about it.”

That shut him up.

“You think I don’t know what people see when they look at me?” she continued, voice breaking now. “That I’m just the warm body who picked up the pieces after your life fell apart?”

“No,” Buck said, stepping closer again, pain all over his face. “That’s not- don’t say that.”

“You let me love you thinking I was the only one,” she whispered, eyes burning. “And now I don’t even know if I was just a rebound or just a placeholder until she got bored again.”

“What? No- No! That’s not fair. Listen to me-” he said, his voice rough, breath catching. “I chose you. I love you.”

She laughed. A sharp, broken sound. “Then maybe you should’ve treated me like someone you actually respected.”

Buck took a step back, it felt like she’d slapped him.

A long, horrible silence stretched between them.

And then the station alarm screamed through the hall. Red light pulsed above the door. "Engine 118, Squad 118, Ambulance 118. Reported sinking cruise vessel, Echo Pier. Multiple victims overboard. Immediate response required."

(Y/n)’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Her face was streaked with tears, but her expression was stone. Duty flickered back into her spine like a switch.

Buck reached for her one last time, as some kind of last attempt to make a connection, hesitant, broken.

She sidestepped his hand like it burned, and then without a word walked out the door.

______

The air was thick with sea salt and smoke. And the sound of sirens, waves and panic sounded over the scene.

Flashlights cut through the dimming light as emergency responders moved between rows of survivors. Soaked, injured, shivering, some silent in shock, others screaming. The capsized cruise ship loomed just yards away, still groaning with the sounds of twisted metal and rushing water.

(Y/n) was crouched beside a teen boy wrapped in a thermal blanket, checking his vitals with a blood pressure cuff. Hen was nearby, splinting a woman’s ankle. They worked in tandem fast, practiced, efficient.

“BP’s a little low,” (Y/n) muttered. “Let’s get him on fluids—” she said as she gave other paramedics the task, and got ready to move to the next victim.

She was focussed on her tasks but deep down, though her mind was distant. She hadn’t stopped thinking about the fight. Or Buck. Or how tightly his jaw had clenched when she said what she said.

But then a different sound cut through the noise, getting her full attention. A woman’s voice. Shaking. Desperate. Screaming. Raw with desperation. “My son! Miles! He’s still in there! Please, somebody help him!” she cried out.

The woman was soaked, barefoot, wrapped in nothing but a towel and panic was written all over her face as she was pulling at the sleeve of a commanding officer. “Ma’am,” the captain in command of the scene said, voice firm but distant. “You need to calm down. You’re going to be okay-” he tried to calm her down. “I don’t care about me! My son, Miles! He is eight, he was right behind me, and then there was a wave—he never came up the stairs—please!” she choked on her cries.

(Y/n)’s pulse spiked at her words, desperate cry for help.

But the captain just turned to one of his men and barked another order. The woman was left sobbing into her own hands, unheard.

Something twisted inside (Y/n)’s chest. No one was listening to her. (Y/n)’s body locked up as she looked toward the ship. The bow lights flickered like dying stars. Water splashed violently around the hull. Another groan of shifting weight echoed through the air like a warning.

Hen was working on victims not too far away from her co-worker. She looked up when she noticed (Y/n) had stopped moving. “Hey,” Hen said, wiping her hands. “You okay?” she asked as she placed her stethoscope around her neck.

(Y/n) stood up, eyes still locked on the grieving mother. “Yeah. I just… I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta check on something.” she said.

“Check on what?” Hen asked, but (Y/n) was already walking away. Hen watched her head toward their ambulance, a quiet “Dammit” under her breath.

She yanked open the side compartment of the rig and grabbed her turnout coat, throwing it over her shoulders in one practiced motion. Her helmet followed, secured fast. The moment the chin strap clicked into place. And she ran towards the boats.

The inside of the ship was a world apart.

Emergency lighting cast everything in harsh orange. Pipes hissed and groaned. Water lapped at her boots as (Y/n) pushed forward, deeper into the bowels of the ship.

The deeper she went, the worse it got. Water swelled fast, from ankles to shins to calves. The metallic creaks of the dying ship echoed through the corridors. Water splashed around (Y/n)’s boots as she stepped carefully around a tipped-over vending machine, her turnout coat soaked halfway to her thighs.

But her breathing stayed steady. Focused. Every sound was potential.

She turned a corner fast and nearly ran straight into Buck. He was backing out of a room with two passengers and two other firefighters, guiding the victims toward the main exit. His flashlight flicked up and caught her face.

They both froze.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Buck’s voice sliced through the chaos. (Y/n)’s heart jumped into her throat, not from the surprise, but from the raw anger she hadn’t finished spitting at him earlier. She sidestepped him without slowing. “Keep walking, Buck.” she said as she kept on making her way through the ship.

“(Y/n). seriously?” He was soaked, breathless as he caught up with her. “You just ran in here? You’re not even assigned to search and rescue! You’re a medic!” he shot at her as he followed her, boots splashing beside hers.

“I know what I am,” she hissed. “I’m also not the kind of person who leaves a crying mother on the dock when no one’s listening to her.” she continued. Buck exhaled sharply. “You should’ve waited for backup.” he said. The corridor slanted to the left, and that’s when everything tilted. The hallway was narrowing. Water climbed along her calf.

“You weren’t listening earlier. I’m fine on my own.” she said as she pushed floating furniture out of her way to clear some kind of path. “You don’t mean that.” he said as he pushed the furniture she had just cleared out of her way, out of his own way now.

She didn’t answer. Just moved through another door, flashlight sweeping through fogged glass and fractured reflections. “(Y/n), talk to me,” he said, voice lower now. “Please. I’m not your enemy.” he begged.

She didn’t even look at him. “We’re not doing this now, Buck.” she hissed. “When, then? You won’t even look at me. I had to drag you inside of a supply closet to make you talk.” He sighed.

“I swear to god, would you just drop it and focus on finding that kid!” her voice filled with pure annoyance. The water was slowly making up the way up to their thighs now. As silence took over the space they were walking through now.

The silence was broken by Buck’s radio that crackled at his shoulder. “Buckley, what’s your six?” It was Cap’s voice, slightly distorted.

Buck sighed as he hesitated to react to his captain. But then he grabbed the mic. “Still sweeping the midsection. Had a visual on movement. Possible survivor.” he said with his fingers pressed onto the talk button.

(Y/n) shot him a look. “That’s a lie.” she said, as she scanned the scene for any sign of the kid. “I’m not leaving you alone in here,” he said simply.

“You should. Orders were clear.” (Y/n) said. Another static buzz. “All remaining personnel- evacuate immediately. Hull stress increasing. I repeat- evacua- ” but the radio got cut off. The radio fizzled. Dead. Probably too much water… or worse.

Buck ripped it off his shoulder and let it fall into the rising flood. “You should go,” she said, voice cold. “Save yourself the trouble. You’ve done it before.”

He flinched at her words, it was almost like she’d just shot him in the chest. “I’m not leaving your side,” he said again, stepping closer.

The water was still rising swirling cold and high around them. They were both soaked, weighed down, breath frosting in the chilled air. “I don’t care if you hate me right now. I’m not letting you walk into this alone.” he told her.

Before she could answer her focus was drawn towards a voice. A scream. Sounding far away. But just loud enough to hear, it felt like a loud whisper. “Help! Somebody!”

Both of their heads snapped up. (Y/n) turned sharply. “This way.” she said, and without waiting, she went straight forward into the rising dark. She wasn’t hallucinating. The scream had been real.

Miles. Nine years old, soaked and shivering, wedged beneath a collapsed shelf in a partially submerged cabin. His foot was trapped between twisted metal and splintered flooring.

“Hey, buddy,” (Y/n) said, the water sloshing, which was almost at her waist now. Her voice stayed calm, like she wasn’t freezing, like the world wasn’t crumbling around them. “You’re doing amazing, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here.” she told the boy.

Buck stood just behind her, flashlight steady in one hand, and a found broken piece of pipe in the other so he could use it as a prying tool. “We’ve gotta hurry. Water’s rising fast.” he said.

(Y/n) lowered herself in the water and ran her fingers along the edge of the metal pinning Miles’ foot. “It’s caught under a support bracket. I need a wedge here and right here.” the told Buck.

Buck moved beside her without question, bracing himself as the ship gave another slow, sickening groan. The tilt of the room shifted again, and the water slowly climbed higher.

“Miles,” (Y/n) said gently, brushing wet hair from his forehead. “You’re gonna feel some pressure, okay? I need you to trust me.” she told the boy. He nodded quickly, sniffling through his tears.

She wedged both hands under the metal while Buck jammed the pipe into the angle she’d marked. Together, they pushed, strained, and fought the resistance of bent steel and waterlogged boards.

Then a sharp snap sounded above the rushing water that filled the space. Miles screamed, but his leg came free. “I got you!” (Y/n) said as she assisted his foot, she wrapped her arms around him as he clung to her like a lifeline. “You’re okay” she hushed him as he cried against her soaking wet turnout jacket.

Buck got rid of the pipe as they stood together, (Y/n) explained to Miles that Buck would carry him, the water was getting too high for him to walk in, he was shivering and getting weaker at the second. Miles nodded his head as a sign that he understood (Y/n). (Y/n) lifted the boy up into Buck’s arms. She could carry him too, but Buck would hold him longer. “Let’s get out of here.” Buck’s voice said as they made their way out of the room Miles had been pinned in.

But the moment the three of them exited the room, the metal roared and another loud slam sounded on the inside of the ship.

A door at the far end of the hallway gave way, blown open by the pressure of the water. And suddenly, a wall of seawater roared in, knocking (Y/n) off balance. The current ripped through the hallway like a freight train as Buck tightly held on to one of the pipes on the side of the hallway.

“(Y/n)!” Buck yelled, holding Miles tight to his chest.

She was thrown back against the far wall, shoulder slamming hard into a broken railing. Her flashlight was gone. Her helmet knocked slightly to the side. The cold was unbearable as her whole body went under for a moment. Her legs kicked under the surface as the current fought to drag her down and let out a loud gasp as she reached the surface and managed to keep her head above water.

Buck surged forward, the water was just passing his hips now, but rising much faster now that the door had been blown open. “(Y/n), grab something!” he shouted trying to fight his way above the volume of the water.

Her arms scrambled, finding the edge of a vent grate and locking fingers around it. Her chest heaved with the effort just to stay above the surface. “I can’t- ” she gasped, water slapping over her mouth. “I can’t keep-” but she couldn’t even finish her sentence as the water kept pulling her down.

“I’m coming your way!” Buck shouted as she coughed, trying to clear her lungs. Buck moved cautiously towards (Y/n), keeping his balance, as he used one arm to hold on to the beam on the side of the hallway, and the other one locking Miles against his chest. “You have to move now!” he called out.

She tried. She really tried. She struggled toward them, fighting the pull. Her hands were white-knuckled, blood smeared across one knuckle from where she’d hit the wall. But she pushed through. In the flicker of Buck’s flashlight, their eyes locked. And in that moment, it wasn’t just the water that threatened to drown them. It was everything they hadn’t said.

He was pressing himself against one of the door frames in the hallway, not giving the current any chance to pull him with it. He held Miles with one arm and reached out with the other, his fingers stretching toward her. “Grab my hand” he ordered her, eyes wide, water swirling around the hallway, almost reaching the half of his chest. “Don’t shut me out now.” he begged her. He wasn’t going to let this end like this. They might be fighting, but he still loves her, and she loves him too. He knows it, and so does she.

(Y/n) hesitated for a small second, just a blink of an eye. And then she grabbed his hand. Buck pulled her in with everything he had.

Together, they clutched Miles between them, braced against the water, waiting for the next moment to move. The ship groaned again. Somewhere above, a steel beam creaked and crashed into the water. There wasn’t time. They had to move if they wanted to make it out alive and not go down with the ship.

“This way,” (Y/n) said breathlessly, pointing toward an emergency light flickering down the corridor. Small coughs leaving (Y/n)’s throat as they slowly had to find their way out.

“Stay close,” Buck ordered, his voice hard now. Protective. Focused. “Don’t let go of me.” he told her, and those words made (Y/n) glance over her shoulder. “I wasn’t planning on it,” she murmured, voice hoarse, but her grip never loosened.

Together with Miles trembling between them they moved deeper into the chaos, toward a sliver of light that promised survival. The water was freezing. The kind of cold you could never get used to.

The hallways were a drowned skeleton of what once was. There were safety signs floating on the water, luggage floating and slowly sinking like lost memories, and the throb of the ship’s groans echoing like the last warning from something ancient and dying.

(Y/n) shivered as she crossed her arms, trying to create some warmth. Buck moved beside her, matching every stride, breathing hard but steady as he had Miles pressed against his chest and his head leaning onto his shoulder.

They weren’t going to make it far like this.

He stopped for half a beat, reached one handedly into the side pocket of his gear, and yanked out a nylon rescue line that was bright orange, coiled, the kind they kept in all their kits for tandem evac or water pulls.

“Here,” he said quickly. “Hold still.”

“What are you-?” she stumbled.

“I’m not losing you,” he muttered, already clipping one end to the D-ring on her turnout coat. “Not in this water. Not in this mess. Not now.” he said determinedly. (Y/n) froze as he clipped the second carabiner to his own harness.

They were exhausted. Constantly pushing their bodies through the water, the cold was barely manageable and to be honest it had just been a long ass day and shift.

The water was slowly falling the more they got towards the exit. (Y/n)’s eyes flickered to the rope now stretched tight between them “You didn’t have to follow me-” she said as a small cough left her mouth.

“I did,” Buck cut in. “And I’d do it every time.” He continued. (Y/n) looked away, throat thick, eyes burning. “You shouldn’t. I don’t have the brightest ideas.” she admitted.

Because if she didn’t go down in the ship when everyone else was getting out, maybe she wouldn't have faced herself almost drowning. She’d have been safe on land, doing her actual tasks.

His voice cracked, just barely. “Maybe not. But without your bright idea, maybe we would have been pulling a bodybag out instead of...” he said as he went silent and motioned with his eyes towards the little boy who was still hanging in his arms.

They walked forward and with every step, the rope between them tugged slightly. It wasn't just a connection, but a reminder: you’re not alone.

Miles whimpered. “I’m cold…”

“I know, buddy,” (Y/n) said softly, brushing his wet hair back as she moved through the water next to Buck. “We’re almost out. Just hold on, okay?” she told him, squeezing his upper arm softly. (Y/n) had taken Buck’s flashlight and cut through the hallway ahead, flickering now, as the water was at their thighs again, the water was slowly getting lower as they got closer to the exit.

(Y/n) had started coughing more and more in the past few minutes. Probably because of the amount of salt water she had inhaled. Due to the coughing she slowed down in her movements. She gripped the wall to keep her balance and to use it as a small guide as she coughed more.

Suddenly, a crack echoed above them.

A section of ceiling gave way with a metallic groan, sending down a cascade of sparks and rubble.

“Hold on!” Buck shouted, both hands locking around the rope. The tension between them, tight which was keeping them from being separated as the hallway darkened even more.

One of the metal beams coming loose as the ship let out another metallic groan. Buck glanced over his shoulder to check on (Y/n), she was just walking underneath the beam.

Without a second thought, Buck’s free hand curled around the rope and he pulled (Y/n) towards him and away from the falling debris. She felt her body being yanked away, and not a moment later her chest bumped into Buck’s left side. The beam fell into the water, splashing a large amount of water onto the three.

“I got you,” he grunted. She steadied, chest heaving, arms trembling from the cold and strain. Her eyes wandered from his shoulder towards his eyes. Their eyes locked. He was soaked, bruised, breathing hard, but still standing there tied to her like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

In the middle of the storm, there was a moment of silence. Where it felt like it was just the two of them when she looked him in the eye. “You never let go… even when I did.” she whispered, voice so low it was almost lost in the water.

He met her eyes, soaked curls plastered to his forehead. “You needed someone to keep holding on… So I did. For both of us.” Buck said.

More silence. Only the sound of lapping water and creaking metal. Their eyes still locked. Her lips parted like she might say something back, but a cough took over, mixed with a new sound that cut her off.

The hallway was dark, only lights were flickering above the hallway. Voices echoed up ahead and multiple flashlights were bobbing in the air. “Search team, right here!” someone called. as the rescue squad came into view. Yellow helmets with lights connected to them, a few with med bags slung over their shoulders.

But it was someone familiar who called out those four words, that made her let out a sigh of relief. Hen was walking up front, eyes widening as she saw Buck, Miles and (Y/n). “Buck! (Y/n)!” she gasped relieved.

“Over here!” Bobby’s voice cut through, strong and steady. “Let’s get them out!” he said as he came into view. Buck quickly unlatched the rescue line from his harness and passed Miles over to the first responder in reach. “Get him checked out now—he’s breathing but he’s ice cold!” he told the other first responder as he handed Miles over. The guy nodded and copied.

Hen rushed toward them, sloshing through thigh-deep water, hands out. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked. (Y/n)’s steps were slowed, knees nearly giving out. She tried to answer, but all that came out was a weak gasp as her body buckled forward.

“(Y/n)? Hey—HEY!” Buck was beside her in an instant, kneeling down in the water as he grabbed her shoulders. She dropped to her knees with a choked gasp, one hand gripping the metal floor of the ship and the other was placed near her mouth. A horrible, wet cough racked her body. Then another. And another. Her whole frame shook as she tried to inhale, but instead sucked in more pain.

“No—no, no, I’ve got you—hey, look at me.” For a moment, he forgot about how much his arms hurt from carrying Miles or how he was shivering because of the cold water.

Hen’s face went pale. “She aspirated. She took in water. Maybe a lot.” Buck told Hen as he was holding (Y/n) upright, her body was limp, shaking, fighting for breath that wasn’t coming easy.

Buck was starting to rattle, panicked. “There was a door, blown open. She went under. She managed to pull herself out but—” his words were cut off as she doubled over again, coughing so violently that blood-tinged water dripped from her mouth.

“We need her out now. Come on, let’s move!” Bobby ordered from behind, who had listened to every single word. Buck didn’t hesitate. He slid one of (Y/n)’s arms over his shoulder, and Hen grabbed the other, anchoring her between them.

“She needs oxygen, heated blankets, IV fluids—let’s go!” Hen yelled as they moved towards the end of the hall, towards the boats they used to get onto the ship.

Together, they started hauling her out of the ship’s narrow hallway, each of them soaked and shaking. (Y/n)’s head lolled slightly, her weight hanging between them.

“Just hold on, okay?” Buck whispered to her, voice tight, ragged. Even through the harsh coughs and groans of pain he heard her whisper something hoarse and broken. “…told you… I’d find him…” she brought out slowly.

Buck’s eyes closed for half a second the pain and love in that one sentence slicing him open. “I know… I know you would.”

The emergency tent bustled with organized chaos. Paramedics weaving between rows of cots and equipment, taking vitals and treating wounds, while families reunited under flickering string lights. The sky outside had gone dark, the sinking ship still ready to go under, but was like a ghost in the background.

(Y/n) was lying on a gurney toward the far side of the tent, an oxygen mask pulled under her chin. Her face was pale and clammy, a monitor beeped steadily beside her. Her soaked turnout gear had been replaced with warm layers and a thermal blanket. Her lungs still burned, every breath a struggle between pain and instinct.

She blinked slowly, trying to focus as she tried to look around the scene. A noise, a very familiar one, made her heart drop.

Voices. A low camera beep. A lens being adjusted. She turned her head to her right.

Taylor Kelly.

The news reporter was standing maybe ten feet away with her cameraman. No mic clipped on. Not filming. Just watching. Waiting.

The weight in (Y/n)’s chest shifted. Not just water, not just exhaustion. It was rage. Hurt. Betrayal. The three things she felt earlier this day when she saw those three messages, and later on when she was arguing in the supply closet with Buck.

She sat up abruptly, wincing at the sight.

Hen, who’d just returned from helping another triage patient, saw her expression change within an instant. “Nope,” Hen said firmly, stepping beside her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t even think about it. Sit down.” She ordered her.

“I’m fine,” (Y/n) rasped as another cough left her mouth. “No, you are absolutely not,” Hen said gently, but without room for argument, giving her an expression that said ‘girl, I don’t believe shit what you’re saying’. Hen’s eyes followed (Y/n)’s for a second, “She’s not worth another breath, (Y/n). Don’t let her win.”

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, tearing her eyes from Taylor. “She knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted me to see it, Hen. To feel it.” (Y/n) said as Hen could see the thunder in her eyes.

Y/n)’s voice was low, sharp, the kind of anger that comes from deep betrayal. (Y/n) looked down at her trembling hands

Hen stayed quiet for a second, letting the words settle in the tense air. Then, softly but firmly, she said, “You think she wins if you keep quiet?”

(Y/n) turned to her sharply, eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” sounding a bit offended.

Hen’s hands moved gently to tuck a blanket tighter around (Y/n)’s shoulders. “I’ve known you long enough to know this version of you. The one biting her tongue, swallowing fire… that isn’t the real you. You know you have a voice and it’s okay to use it.” she confronted (Y/n).

(Y/n) knew Hen was right, she was letting someone completely ruïning her and wasn’t fighting back. (Y/n)’s jaw clenched. “So what? You want me to go over there and deck her in front of half the department and her cameraman?” she asked, not knowing what Hen was asking her.

Hen smirked a little. “No. I want you to remember that she wants you to lose control. She wants to see you go insane, because she knew the damage she’d cause if she sent those messages. That thing between them ended months ago, why would she randomly text him about something that had happened months ago?.”

That gave (Y/n) pause. Her mouth twitched, something between a laugh and a sob caught in her chest. “Well, she got what she wanted. I lost trust. I lost peace. And the worst of it all… I lost him.” She said.

Hen leaned in, eyes soft now. “No, you didn’t. You’re just standing in the wreckage, but you’re still standing. And you didn’t lose Buck… not really. Not unless you walk away before he can fix what he broke.”

A sigh left (Y/n)’s mouth and she pressed her lips into a thin line. When she looked at Hen her attention got caught by a person aiming for Taylor. Her eyes flicked toward Taylor again, who was now who was talking with her cameraman.

It was Buck, aiming straight for Taylor.

Buck strode out of the tent, he had his soaked turnout gear now replaced with a dry set of clothes and his damp curls were still sticking partly to his forehead. He spotted Taylor by the generator crates, arms folded, scanning everything on scene, looking for what she could use for her item.

“Hey!” Buck called, firm and sharp. Taylor turned, trying to hide the flicker of guilt in her expression by smiling. “Buck-” she wanted to say something but he cut her off immediately. He wasn’t playing her games, that’s what he told himself. “No. You don’t get to say my name like that.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “I was just checking on you-”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “That’s how this all started.”

Taylor glanced at the camera man, then waved him off. He stepped away.

Buck lowered his voice just enough to keep it between them. But his anger was boiling beneath his skin. “You knew I was in a relationship. You knew I moved on. But you couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” he hissed.

“I just wanted to talk,” Taylor said, arms crossing tighter in front of her chest. “No,” he corrected, stepping closer. “You wanted to test me. You wanted to see if there was still something between us.”

Taylor flinched at how furious he was. The bomb named Evan Buckley had started ticking this morning, and finally this evening, it had finally reached its climax and exploded.

“Well, congratulations,” he continued bitterly, adding a soft clap to his words. “You did rattle me. You almost ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Buck…”

“I was happy,” he cut her off. “For the first time in years, I was really happy. And you knew that. But you couldn’t stand it if it wasn’t with you.”

Taylor said nothing, the silence heavier than the stormclouds above them.

“There’s nothing left between us,” Buck said, final and cold. “No sparks, no maybes. Not even a friendship. Stay away from me. We’re done.” he finished the conversation, which was more one sided.

Then he turned and walked back toward the tent, toward the woman he loved, whose trust he was going to fight like hell to earn back.

And he left Taylor standing there. She didn’t even have a chance to say anything, and to be honest, he didn’t really need to hear anything from her. No excuses. Nothing.

The triage tent had quieted somewhat. The worst of the chaos had been stabilized or moved to transport. The sounds now were less chaotic. There were low murmurs, equipment beeping steadily, and the soft shuffling of boots across tarp-covered ground.

(Y/n) sat on the edge of her gurney, a blanket still around her shoulders, her damp hair pulled back messily. She held a small oxygen tube under her nose. Her lungs still ached with every breath, but the burning was fading. Hen sat beside her, perched on the edge of a supply crate, keeping watch. Making sure she didn’t do anything stupid, but mostly to keep her some kind of company.

Footsteps entered the tent they were in. The both of them looked up as Buck approached, his face full with emotion. His eyes met (Y/n)’s and immediately dropped to the floor. It wasn’t from shame, but the weight of what he was carrying.

He stopped a few feet from the gurney.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, voice a little hoarse from emotions and the adrenaline that was starting to wear off.

Hen glanced at (Y/n), her brow creasing. The question wasn’t spoken aloud, but (Y/n) saw it clearly in her eyes, You good? (Y/n) gave her a small nod. It wasn’t enthusiastic, but it was strong. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered.

Hen stood slowly, giving Buck one last look. It wasn’t a warning, but a reminder, Don’t screw this up. As she passed Buck, she gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, not comforting, not cruel, just a reminder: Be careful with her.

Buck moved slowly, towards the edge of a nearby supply crate, the same one Hen had sat on before. He lowered himself onto it with a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his lungs and rested his elbows on his knees.

(Y/n) sat on the edge of the gurney, her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, fingernails digging into her palms, as a distraction to not start trembling right in front of him.

Now it was just Buck in front of her. And all the space between them.

“I didn’t respond to Taylor,” he said. “Not once. She texted, yeah, and I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you the second it started. I didn’t delete anything or hide it, but I didn’t shut it down either.”

(Y/n)’s eyes were glassy, the sharp sheen of unshed tears glimmering under the sterile lights. She didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink as he talked.

“I thought ignoring it would be enough. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. Because it didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, does it?” His voice wavered. “It made you feel like I was hiding something. Like maybe part of me still wanted her in my life. And I didn’t even realize I was making you feel that way until it was too late.” he rattled.

Her lip trembled as she inhaled through her nose, slow and shaky. “You could’ve just blocked her,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It would’ve taken two seconds and none of this would’ve happened.”

Buck didn’t try to respond right away to her heartbreaking, broken down voice. But he stood up, slowly, carefully, as if rushing toward her might shatter the small amount that was keeping her together. When he stepped in front of her, she didn’t look up, her eyes were locked on the floor.

She didn’t resist when he reached out. It was Buck who closed the distance.

He slid one arm gently around her back and then the other, his touch soft but sure as he pulled her against his chest. She didn’t return the embrace at first. She just sat there, stiff and silent, arms limp at her sides. And then she felt him press his cheek to the top of her head. His breath hitched as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

That was what broke her down into a million pieces.

Her hands gripped the back of his shirt in two tight fists, and she let out a sob that had been buried in her chest for the entire day. Buck didn’t flinch. He just held her tighter, cheek still pressed to her hair, locking her in his arms. His eyes were closed now, his lashes wet with tears of his own, and he rocked her slightly, as if movement could soothe the heartbreak between them.

“I didn’t know how much I was hurting you,” he whispered into her hair. “And when I saw your face this morning, when you looked at me like I was a stranger… I knew I’d fucked up. But I need you to know that nothing happened. We never met up. She just texted. I ignored it. But I should’ve erased her the second she reached out. I should’ve blocked her.”

(Y/n) shook her head against his chest. “You didn’t have to cheat for it to feel like betrayal.”

Buck closed his eyes tighter, pressing a small, light kiss to her hair now, letting her words pierce deep. “You’re right,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. “I failed you in a different way. And I’ll spend every damn day proving I’m not going to do that again.”

Her grip on his shirt tightened, and she buried her face deeper into his chest. His arms wrapped fully around her now, like he could protect her from every crack she had felt since that first text. Like he could protect her from himself.

But for now, she didn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley

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lyjen · 2 months ago

Text

Rage | Eddie Diaz

Summary: After a hectic morning, Eddie and (Y/n) are on their way to the firehouse to start their shift. But the drive doesn’t go as planned when Eddie completely misjudges the situation on the freeway and they end up in a car accident.

Trigger warnings: Car accident, blood and graphic injury description, medical trauma, panic attack / anxiety, drunk driving, bit of violence.

Request: @megafandomsxassemble

Request status: OPEN ✨

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Eddie stood in the kitchen, pouring the dark liquid into two to-go cups. The morning sun peeked in through the blinds, casting soft strips of light across the counter. One hand held a cup steady, while the other reached blindly for a lid.

“Chris! Let’s go, buddy!” Eddie called out, his voice echoing down the hall as he snapped the second lid on the other mug. He didn’t even have to check the clock to know they were running late. At this point he was used to them being late.

From somewhere deeper in the house, (Y/n)’s voice answered, laced with frustration. “I can’t find my other shoe!” Eddie glanced up, amused. He could already picture her, half-dressed, hair still tousled from sleep, scrambling through the house like it was a scavenger hunt.

She came around the corner into the kitchen, hopping slightly as she wore only one sneaker and zipped up her LAFD hoodie. Her hair was wild and soft, and she used one hand to gather it into a quick bun. It wasn’t her usual clean, firehouse-ready one, but the messy kind she did when time was not on her side.

“Lost it again?” Eddie asked, sipping his coffee with a smirk as he leaned his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“I swear I saw it lying right here last night,” (Y/n) muttered, eyes scanning the floor, then opening the pantry like the shoe might’ve magically climbed onto a shelf.

Eddie watched her with a lazy smile. Her sleepy frustration was oddly cute, and he loved this little chaotic piece of their mornings more than he’d ever admit out loud.

Just then, the familiar thud of crutches echoed down the hall. Chris appeared at the edge of the dining room, steady as always, pushing the shoe forward from underneath one of the dining room chairs “You mean this one?” Chris asked.

(Y/n)’s head popped around the doorframe, and her eyes locked onto the missing sneaker lying on the floor in front of Chris’ crutches. Relief washed over her face. “Chris! You’re a lifesaver.” she said, sounding like the shoe like it was her long-lost soulmate.

She rushed over and took it, dropping down to one knee and started to put the long lost shoe on. Chris raised a brow, curious. “Why were you looking for your shoe in the kitchen?” he asked.

(Y/n) froze mid-lace.

She blinked. Good question. A very good question.

Eddie, still in the kitchen, perked up immediately, like he knew this was going to be good. (Y/n) blinked, suddenly very aware that her searching area made no sense. At least, for him.

“Uhh…” she stalled, her voice faltering as her gaze slowly lifted toward Eddie, who was now watching her over the rim of his coffee cup as he leaned against the doorframe from the kitchen, clearly amused. Then she looked back at Chris, and tried to think fast.

“You know… things happen. Sometimes shoes… travel.” she said as she turned to Eddie for help once more. He offered none. Not at first. Just raised his eyebrows and took another sip.

Chris gave her a look. “And you thought your shoe would be behind the fridge?” he asked, trying to make sense of it. “I don’t know, Chris,” she said, tying her laces faster. “It’s early, my brain’s still warming up.”

Eddie pushed himself off the door frame, sipping his coffee slowly, very amused. “I’m dying to hear this logic, honestly.” Eddie then said. (Y/n) shot him a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like being on time?”

“Nope. Watching this unfold is the highlight of my morning,” he said, handing her the second coffee cup as she stood up.

She snatched it playfully, brushing her fingers against his. “Thank you. For the coffee and your unwavering support.” she said.

“Always,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss on her temple. Then he turned towards his son, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, bud.” he continued.

Chris smirked, shaking his head. “You guys are weird.” And sighed like a kid who had already seen too much adult nonsense for a Monday morning.

“We know,” they both answered in unison. “Let’s just go before I lose something else, like my dignity.” she whispered softly at Eddie.

“Too late,” Eddie muttered under his breath, but the playful glint in his eye gave him away.

With Chris by the door, (Y/n) finally fully dressed, and coffee in hand and duffle bags on the other, the three of them finally tumbled out of the house.

Eddie eased the car into the disabled parking space near the front of the school. He shifted the car into park, glanced at the clock on the dashboard, and sighed. Barely on time. Not bad, considering the morning shoe crisis.

He popped open his door and stepped out of the driver’s side, the spring air still carrying a hint of coolness. Without missing a beat, he walked around to the backseat and opened it, reaching in to pull out Chris’s crutches.

Inside the car, Chris was already moving like clockwork. He unbuckled his seatbelt with a click, swung his backpack over his shoulder as he put his arm through the other loop and pushed open the door where Eddie stood waiting with his usual, patient smile.

“Here you go, buddy.” Eddie handed him the crutches gently as Chris stepped out of the car. Chris took them without looking up “Thanks.” he said, and slipped his arms through the plastic.

Eddie closed the door behind Chris, the solid thunk of it echoing in the small morning bustle of the parking lot. The noise of students, parents, and teachers swirled around them. Voices calling out, backpacks rustling, cars pulling up and away.

(Y/n) rolled down her window from the passenger seat, watching the moment unfold with a soft smile.

Eddie crouched in front of Chris, one of his hands resting on Chris’ shoulder, and the other one on his knee like he always did when he needed his son to really listen.

“You remembered your math homework, right?” Eddie asked as he tried to make eye contact with him. Chris let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, Dad.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not stuffed in the bottom of your bag? Not forgotten on your desk? Not being used as a bookmark in your comic book?” he asked. Chris’ eyes connected with his dad’s. “Daaaad,” Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. “I got it, okay?”

(Y/n) had to stifle a laugh from her seat. Eddie smirked but softened as he reached out and let go of Chris’ shoulder.“I know, I know,” he said, ruffling Chris’s hair. “I’m just doing my job. The annoying dad part.” Eddie continued.

Chris gave him a tired look that said: you’re doing it very well. Eddie leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of Chris’ head. “I love you, okay?”

“Dad!” Chris hissed in embarrassment, eyes darting toward a group of kids walking by. “You’re embarrassing me in front of people!” he mumbled as a smirk appeared on Eddie’s face. “Good. It’s in the contract,” he grinned, his eyes soft. “Embarrass you now, pay for therapy later.”

Chris groaned and rolled his eyes as he turned and started toward the school entrance. “Have a good day!” Eddie called after him, “Oh and don’t trade your snacks!” he added.

“Daaad!” Chris yelled back, not turning around. And then he was gone, just another kid with a backpack vanishing into the group of students.

(Y/n) laughed from inside the car, shaking her head. “You really live to torment that kid.” she said as she looked to the side, watching Eddie getting in the car.

Eddie slipped back into the driver’s seat, his smile lingering. “Gotta enjoy it while I can. In a few years he'll still be embarrassed, but with a deeper voice and probably facial hair.”

“He’ll still be rolling his eyes at your jokes.” she said as she smiled and took a sip from her coffee.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said, starting the car. “Oh—by the way, I told him Tía Rosa’s picking him up today. She said she’d take him for ice cream if he finishes his homework”

“Did you remind him about that?” She asked as she let the back of her head fall against the headrest and looked at Eddie. “Only six times,” Eddie deadpanned. (Y/n) chuckled as Eddie put the car in reverse.

Eddie pulled away, his fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. “I always feel like we forgot something.” (Y/n) smiled, as she glanced at Eddie. “You packed his lunch, embarrassed him… That’s everything.” she said and placed her hand onto his, that was resting on the armrest in between the passenger and driver. Eddie smiled as he felt her thumb softly tracing over his hand, his eyes locked on the road. “Yeah. I guess that is everything.”

The freeway stretched out in front of them, long and open beneath a soft blue sky. Morning sunlight spilled across the dashboard, painting golden streaks over Eddie’s forearms as he drove. (Y/n) sat beside him, her coffee now half-empty, hair still slightly messy, but that early morning panic had finally faded.

Eddie’s hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping a lazy beat. He glanced over at (Y/n), who was finishing her coffee, hoodie sleeves rolled up, legs curled beneath her in the passenger seat.

Eddie glanced over at her with a small smirk. He couldn’t help it. “So… the kitchen, huh?”

(Y/n) let out a sigh, already rolling her eyes at the sentence. “You’re really not gonna let that go?” She asked. Eddie chuckled, looking at her for a quick second before focusing back on the road. “You froze like Chris caught you committing a federal crime. No comeback, no lie, just panic.”

“I was caught off guard!” she said as she tried not to smile when she thought back at the moment of this morning. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You really had nothing. Not even a fake excuse.”

“I really thought my shoe was in the kitchen,” she mumbled as she took a sip of her coffee. “Well, yeah, because that’s where you launched it. Right after you climbed up on the counter.” he said, while an agreeing look took over his face.

Her head snapped toward him. “Excuse me? I did not climb anything.” she shot back at him. “You totally did,” he teased. “And I blacked out after. I mean, we had just gotten off a 24-hour shift, and then you… you were just standing there. Hoodie, messy hair, tired face. I lost it.” Eddie admitted as he glanced back at her.

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” she accused him. Eddie laughed, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “You were just as bad. You kept brushing up against me at work, touching my arm and looking at me like that.” he said.

“I handed you a clipboard, Eddie.” (Y/n) said as her eyebrows furrowed at his words. “And I pinned you against the truck,” he grinned.

“That was a two-second moment!” She said. “Hmm.. for you maybe. It felt like hours to me. Torture.” he said, glancing back at (Y/n). She shook her head, smiling, cheeks a little warmer than a second ago now.

“Oh, and don’t think I forgot about the bathroom,” (Y/n) said, glancing at Eddie with a teasing smirk. Eddie’s brows lifted, already sensing where this was going. “What bathroom?” he asked, trying to act innocent and not knowing.

“That was all you,” she added, sipping from her coffee with a mocking look on her face, like she’d just presented a final piece of evidence. Eddie let out a half-laugh, mouth hanging open in disbelief. “You kissed me first!” he said.

“Because you pulled me in there!” Her eyes widened like she couldn’t believe they were actually arguing about this, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips said otherwise. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, both from laughter and from the memory.

Eddie shook his head as he drove, a grin spread across his face. “Because you were looking at me like you were gonna kiss me in front of Bobby!” he said. She scoffed, shifting in her seat, turning toward him. “I—what?! No I wasn’t!” she stumbled.

“Yes you were,” he said, glancing quickly at her. There was a fire in his eyes now. Not angry kind, just playful and maybe a little smug. “You gave me that look. The firehouse hallway look.” he said then. (Y/n) blinked, then narrowed her eyes, leaning in just slightly. “What look is that?” she asks, confused as she placed the coffee back into the cup holder.

“The one that says: ‘I’d climb you like a ladder if Buck wasn’t two feet away.’”

Her jaw dropped and she immediately burst out laughing, one hand flying to cover her face. Her hoodie sleeve slipped slightly down her wrist as she leaned against the door, trying to pull herself together. “You are so dramatic” she managed through her laughter.

“I’m passionate,” Eddie said proudly, placing a dramatic hand over his heart like he was quoting Shakespeare, with his eyes twinkling. “You’re impossible,” she replied, cheeks still flushed as she wiped a tear of laughter away. Her bun had started to come loose from all the movement, stray hairs framing her face.

“And I was going insane,” Eddie added, his voice serious. “I couldn’t touch you for twenty-four hours except in secret. Do you know what that does to a man?” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

“You bit my lip, remember?” he added, looking to his right. “That was because someone walked in!” she tried to defend herself, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “I was bleeding,” Eddie said, holding up his finger as if to prove the severity of the wound, but there was barely even a wound there.

“You survived.”

Eddie smiled and reached over, resting his hand gently on her thigh. His thumb rubbed slow circles. His voice softened. “I’d do it all over again, though.” (Y/n) glanced over, her smile quieter now. “Yeah?”

“Every shift. Every morning. You’re worth it.” he told her as he took a second to look straight into her eyes.

They sat in that soft silence for a moment. It felt nice. It was almost like a calm before the storm. But then Eddie’s eyes flicked to the road ahead, and that feeling started to slip.

A black car in front of them was swerving across lanes, it was going way too fast and moving way too broad. Eddie frowned, “What the hell is this guy doing?”

(Y/n) sat up straighter. “He’s all over the road. Is he drunk?” she said as she frowned at the image. The warm hand of Eddie let go of (Y/n)’s thigh as he leaned forward and his hands were tightening on the wheel. “Has to be. He’s going, what… ninety? Maybe more.”

The sedan veered again, hard, and nearly clipped the car next to it. Horns blared. It recovered only to accelerate, erratically, like the driver had no idea what they were doing or didn’t care. “I’m not staying behind him,” Eddie muttered, switching lanes. “I’m gonna pass.”

“Just be careful,” she said quietly. “I’ve got it.”

Eddie turned on the turn signal and switched lanes as he stepped on the gas. He tried to pass the black car. But just as they pulled up beside it, the car didn’t make a small swerve like he had before. No, this time he made a much larger one.

No signal. No warning. Just pure, reckless speed. And it slammed directly into their passenger side.

It all happened so fast. The sound was deafening.

The sound of shattered glass, screeching metal and tires, airbags burst, white clouds filling the air as screams filled the small, tight space.

The truck tipped, then flipped. Once. Twice. Suddenly it felt like they were in some kind of fairground attraction they didn’t sign up for.

They were weightless and heavy all at once. Flung and yanked. Eddie’s head hit the headrest hard, his vision blurring. (Y/n)’s body was thrown to the side, her head snapping back against the window before the seatbelt caught her.

They landed hard on the passenger’s side, and back onto four wheels again. The car slowly came to a stop, and for a moment there was silence. Silence or a breath, and a heartbeat.

But then a second car, unable to stop in time, plowed into them from the side. The force sent their (already) destroyed car crashing into the guardrail, before it finally came to a stop. The truck flipped one more time and landed upside down.

Smoke was coming from the hood, and a soft hiss of leaking fluids sounded in the car. The distant honk of other cars skidding to a halt on the freeway they were just on.

Inside the vehicle, the world was upside down. Blood trickled from Eddie’s brow. His ears were ringing. He gasped for air, body aching in ways he hadn’t yet registered and groaned at the pain. He blinked hard as he tried to get a clearer vision, but he was still disoriented.

Then his heart dropped. “(Y/n)…?” he choked out, turning his head, even though every muscle in his body protested.

She wasn’t moving.

His eyes locked onto her. Her head hung in an awkward angle against the seatbelt. Her face was pale, blood dripping from her temple. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked. “Come on, baby, wake up.” he continued as he tried to reach for her, while ignoring the pain he felt in his body.

(Y/n) was pinned in her seat. The metal had crumpled into her side, her hoodie was partly soaked in blood. He didn’t know how deep the metal rod was. He didn’t want to know. But it was enough to make his vision blur.

“No no no no no,” he whispered. “Please, open your eyes.” he begged, his voice was raw and trembling. “You’ve gotta stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” he cried. But she didn’t answer, Eddie felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs all over again when she didn’t answer, or even gave any sign of life.

He knew he shouldn’t move. He knew staying still was the safest thing after a crash like that. His training screamed at him to wait for help. But that voice, the smart, calm, firefighter one, was nowhere to be found at this moment.

All he could hear was her breathing faltering and that silence between her breaths was louder than any alarm he’d ever heard.

Eddie gritted his teeth and fought with his own seatbelt while the blood was rushing to his head. The seatbelt finally gave way, dropping him hard onto the ceiling, (which was now the floor) of the ruined car. His ribs ached in protest, but he didn't stop. He groaned as he pressed a hand onto the painful spot, and he dragged himself toward the shattered driver’s side.

He pushed glass out of his way with raw hands. He didn’t care if glass would cut into his hand, it had already cut his knees, but he didn’t feel a single piece of glass in his skin. The adrenaline was rushing through his veins.

He had to get to her. He had to help her. He couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

He crawled through the window on the driver’s side, glass cutting into his palms and his legs which were barely working. The morning temperature hit his skin like a slap, but he barely felt it. His entire body was focused on one thing, and that was his girl.

The air reeked of burning rubber and leaking gasoline. People were shouting nearby, tires screeching in the distance, but it all sounded muffled. It was almost like he was underwater.

Eddie pushed himself onto his feet, but almost lost his balance. But his hands quickly grabbed the car to keep him on two feet. He walked as fast as he could around the car.

When he reached the passenger side, he could barely recognize the door. It was caved in completely. But he could see her face through the shattered glass, pale and bloody and still not moving.

Eddie's hands were trembling, without a single thought he braced himself against the door and tried to pull it back, muscles screaming with effort. “Come on!” he grunted, chest heaving. “Just- open- damn it- open!” he cried desperately.

Nothing gave.

He stepped back, his breath stuttering while he blinked through the sting in his eyes. He had to get help. He needed his team here. Now.

He fumbled for his phone, almost dropping it with how slick his fingers were. Blood, sweat, oil, he didn’t even know. His hands were still shaking, panic setting in. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but somehow he managed to hit Buck’s name in the contact list.

Eddie pressed the phone to his ear, pacing in small, frantic circles like he could outrun the panic crawling up his spine. “Come on, come on, pick up, please.” he whispered.

First ring. Second ring. Third ring.

He was sure the next thing he was going to hear was the voicemail of Buck. But then he heard his best friend's voice through the phone. “Eddie?” he spoke on the other side of the line, his voice loud compared with the sirens on the background.

Silence.

“Eddie? Hey, can you hear me?”

Still nothing.

Just static, and something… shallow. Breathing. Shaky. Ragged. Like someone was gasping through tears, like someone was trying not to fall apart. Buck’s stomach dropped.

“Eddie? Talk to me, man. What’s going on?” He knew Eddie was on the other side of the phone. This wasn’t just some butt dial. But the sounds through the phone.. He just knew something wasn’t right.

More silence. A soft thud. A crackle of air. The faintest sound of someone moving and still no words.

Eddie didn’t know what was happening. He wanted to say so much, but simply couldn’t get the words out.

“Eddie?”

There was a pause… and then, finally, a single, broken word finally came out of his mouth. “…Buck.” The sound of it… raw and strained.

“Jesus. What happened? Are you okay? Where are you? Is Chris okay?” Buck asked.

A beat of hesitation.

“Not Chris,” Eddie finally managed to bring out, his voice catching in his throat. “It’s- (Y/n).” The name barely made it out. “We were driving. She…” He choked again.

The words were there, but they just wouldn’t come out. His chest felt too tight, like the panic was caving in from all sides, pressing down until nothing made sense except the urge to do something.

“She’s not moving. Buck, I can’t get the door open. There’s- there’s metal through her side, I think- I think it went all the way through-” he rattled.

“Okay, hey,” Buck cut in, trying to keep his voice steady even though his own heart had started to pound. “You’re doing great. We’re already en route. Bobby said it was a multi-car pileup- are you on the 405?” Buck then asked.

“Yes- yeah,” Eddie stammered, breath catching again as he glanced back at her. “She’s bleeding. A lot. And I- I can’t get her out. I tried. The door’s stuck. She’s not- she hasn’t opened her eyes.” Eddie continued as he ran a hand through his hair.

His voice cracked, and for a second, Buck could hear the weight of everything Eddie was holding back. The fear, the helplessness, the sheer horror of watching the person he loved bleed out in front of him. And the worst part? He couldn’t fix it. Not without the right tools.

“You don’t have to get her out,” Buck said firmly. “You know that, Eddie. We’ve got the jaws. We’ll get her. You just stay with her. Don’t move her. Keep talking to her. Keep her grounded, okay?”

“I can’t lose her.” Eddie’s voice broke entirely now, soft cries sounding through the phone. “Buck, I can’t—she’s all banged up and it’s bad, and she hasn’t said a word-”

“You’re not gonna lose her,” Buck said, instantly cutting off Eddie, his voice direct. “You hear me? You are not losing her. We are minutes out. I just need you to hang on.” Eddie nodded, he needed to keep hope. His jaw clenched as he wiped at his face, smearing blood and tears alike.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Buck said again, steady. They hung up before they could share another word. Eddie swallowed hard and crouched lower to the shattered window, brushing a shaking hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You stay with me. Just stay with me.”

Eddie was still crouched at her side, the glass from the passenger side window that had shattered cutting into his knees, his hands covered in blood, sweat and oil. His fingers brushed her cheek again. “Hey... hey, (Y/n) help is on the way..” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, okay?”

For the first time she gave some sign of life. (Y/n) let out a weak groan as her lashes slightly stick against the blood on her skin. Her body was limp but trembling. The twisted metal of the car door pressed in cruelly against her torso, and that goddamn jagged piece of steel impaled through her side made Eddie feel like he couldn’t breathe.

His lungs pulled in air, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t reach his chest.

Then the sirens hit the scene, rushing toward them like a wave. But Eddie didn’t feel any relief. His mind was stuck in static. Everything was noise except her.

“Almost there,” he murmured as another groan left (Y/n)’s lips.

The flashing lights painted his face red and blue as the truck of the 118 came to a stop nearby. He heard Buck’s voice calling out to him but Eddie didn’t respond. He couldn’t pull himself away from her.

“Eddie!” Buck ran to his side. “Hey—Eddie, are you okay?” Buck asked as he saw the status of Eddie. His best friend looked like he came straight from the battlefield. Parts of his body were covered in blood and sweat.

But Eddie didn’t answer his words. Couldn’t. Eddie’s jaw clenched as he stared down at her. His hands were shaking so badly now he had to clench them into fists just to stop.

“She’s- she’s not responding like before,” he finally stumbled. “She was... I don’t know if it hit an organ- there’s too much blood.” he choked out the sentences. Buck placed a steady hand on Eddie’s shoulder, grounding him. “Hen’s going to check her, Chim is already getting the stabilization.We’ve got it.” But Eddie couldn’t move, it was like his legs were cemented down to this part of the 705.

It wasn’t until Bobby stepped forward and gently said, “We need to get her out, Eddie. Let them work,” that made him back off. He rose stiffly, his limbs roaring in pain. But he didn’t feel any of it. Not really. His eyes flicked toward the wreckage down the road, and that’s when he saw it.

The other car.

The man inside was still behind the wheel, upright. Still breathing. Not a single drop of blood on him.

Something twisted in Eddie’s gut and it made his blood boil. That was him. The guy who hit them. The guy who almost killed them. The guy who almost killed her.

His breathing quickened, and his fists clenched. Bobby noticed the shift in Eddie’s posture instantly as he guided him a bit back so Bobby’s team could do their job. “Hey,” Bobby said carefully. “Eddie, don’t. I know what you’re thinking.”

“You don’t,” Eddie said, voice low and still shaking. “You don’t know.” he added. “I do,” Bobby stepped between him and the wreck. “But now is not the time.” he continued, trying to help Eddie take his mind off whatever he was planning on doing.

“He was drunk.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “He hit her side. He aimed for her, Bobby. He- he almost…” Eddie stopped, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.

“I know,” Bobby said gently. “But let the cops handle it. Let the system do what it’s supposed to do.” his captain advised.

But that wasn’t good enough. Not for Eddie. Not when he could still hear her gasping for air in the background. Not when her blood was drying on his palms.

Bobby turned to give an order to Chim, just for a moment. One small silly second. And that’s all it took. “Eddie!” Bobby called, alarmed, but it was too late.

Eddie broke into a walk straight toward the black car, determined. He didn’t think. Didn’t plan. “Eddie!” Bobby called, alarmed, but it was too late. Eddie was already there. He ripped the car door open and grabbed the man by his jacket, yanking him out of the car.

“You almost killed her!” Eddie roared, his voice cracking. He slammed the man into the side of his car. The man stammered, but Eddie didn’t hear him. His vision tunneled, fists tightening.

“You ran us off the road like her life meant nothing! Like we meant nothing!” He shoved the guy again, harder this time.

The drunk man started to mumble something, maybe an apology, maybe just nonsense. But Eddie’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“If she dies,” he snarled, eyes burning with something feral, “if she doesn’t wake up… I swear to God…” he gasped. “Eddie!” Buck’s voice rang through the tension, closer now.

“-I’ll make sure you never forget what you did.” The man groaned, reeking of alcohol. Eddie raised a fist. Muscles tight, the urge burning in his veins like gasoline ready to ignite.

Buck’s voice hit him like a wave. He was running full speed, eyes wide and panicked. “Eddie, stop!” Buck sounded. But Eddie didn’t stop. Buck lunged and wrapped both arms around his friend, pulling him back with everything he had. “Don’t do this!” Buck shouted as he let go of Eddie when he started to wrestle himself out of Buck’s grip. Buck stood between Eddie and the drunk driver, trying to keep his best friend away from the man. “You lay a hand on him, and you’re the one in cuffs!” he continued as he came closer to Eddie.

Eddie’s eyes were wild, there was a fire within his eyes. “She could die! He did this! He was drinking-” he choked out the words, stumbling over each one of them. “I know, I know,” Buck said, voice cracking. “But you don’t get to make it right by losing yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie went still, chest heaving, hands trembling at his sides.

“She needs you, Eddie.” Buck said softer now. “She needs you there. Not behind bars. There. Holding her hand. You think she wants to wake up and not see you?” Buck continued.

Eddie’s throat burned. He looked back toward the ambulance where Hen was still working on (Y/n), her hand twitching slightly like she was reaching for someone who wasn’t there. The fight drained out of him all at once.

He looked over Buck’s shoulder for a second. “You’re lucky he’s here.” he hissed at the man, disgust curling his lip. And with those words, he walked away from the man.

The waiting room was too quiet. Not the kind of silence that brought peace. Eddie’s hands were trembling. He had his elbows on his knees, head bowed forward, eyes fixed on the floor tiles like they held answers he craved for so badly. But they didn’t. Nothing did.

Blood had dried on his knuckles, tracing over cuts that still had some slivers of glass in it. His palms were raw, his knees bruised and scraped. There was blood caked on his pants, his arms, and somewhere under all of it, a dull, throbbing pain in his ribs from where the seatbelt had clenched around him. But none of that mattered.

A gentle voice broke through the silence of the waiting room. “Eddie.” But he didn’t look up. “Hey,” the voice said again, softer now. A second later, a cool plastic bottle of water was pressed lightly into his hand. “Here. Just… take a sip, alright?” Buck’s voice sounded.

Eddie blinked slowly, like the water had just appeared out of nowhere. He looked down at it, then his fingers curled around it. But he didn’t drink the water. He just held it in his hand, letting condensation spread across the small cuts in his hand.

Buck sat down beside him, not saying anything for a moment.

“You need to get checked out,” he finally broke the silence. “You’re still bleeding.” he added as he looked at his broken, best friend. “I’m fine.” Eddie said, not even looking at him. His voice was low, almost toneless.

“No, you’re not. And it’s okay not to be. But she wouldn't want to see you like this.” Buck said. Making Eddie’s grip tighten on the bottle. He swallowed hard against whatever emotion was creeping up his chest.

“I keep seeing her… the way her eyes rolled back, the blood… I didn’t know if—” He finally said, his voice cracked, and he stopped talking.

Buck leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, mirroring Eddie’s posture. “You were in the crash too, man,” Buck said quietly as he kept his eyes locked on the side profile of Eddie. “You’ve got glass in your hands and probably your knees. You’re still bleeding from your eyebrow, and I’m pretty sure your ribs are messed up.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just stared at the water bottle like it was the only thing holding him together.

“She wouldn’t want you sitting here, hurting. Torturing yourself. You know that, right?” Buck continued. “She wants you okay. She wants to wake up and see you okay.”

Eddie exhaled, a sound that was half a sigh, half a choked breath. He brought the water to his lips with a shaky hand and took one slow sip. “Let the nurses take a look at you,” Buck said gently. “Just a quick check. Get stitched up. Sit down somewhere where they can actually help you, not just... watch you fall apart in a waiting room.” Buck advised him.

Eddie hesitated. Then nodded. Not for himself, but because she would want him to.

Buck stood with him, steadying him as he swayed slightly on his feet, and walked him down the hallway toward an exam room. Eddie didn’t ask questions. Didn’t protest this time. But the whole way down the hall, while he had the water bottle still clutched in his hand. He kept looking over his shoulder… waiting for someone, anyone to come out of those double doors.

The moment one of the nurses came into the room where Eddie was being treated, and told him (Y/n) was out of surgery, he was up and already speed walking through the hallway. He just needed to see her.

Eddie opened the door to the hospital room, and stepped inside. The room was still dim, the blinds drawn to keep the harsh sunlight out. The steady beep of the heart monitor and the hum of the IV were the only sounds aside from the soft conversations of nurses outside the door.

When he stepped into her room, everything else fell away.

His eyes locked onto her. Her nose cannula was gently in place. There were IV lines, bandages, bruises, and her left arm was immobilized, but her chest was rising. Steady.

Eddie’s steps were slow, cautious, like approaching a dream he was terrified might disappear if he touched it. He reached her bedside, eyes locked on her face, pale, a little swollen, but hers.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, heavy from meds but not as foggy as before. She squinted up at him, throat dry as hell when she croaked “Eddie?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

But his whole body sank beside her, one hand carefully finding hers, mindful of her IVs and bruises. “Yeah, baby. I’m here.” he whispered, brushing his thumb over the skin, letting her know he was there.

Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re okay?” He let out a breath, part laugh, part sob. “You’re asking me?” he said as he placed his other hand on top of her head.

“You were bleeding,” she whispered, eyes already drooping again. Eddie brushed her hair back gently, thumb grazing her temple. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “A few scratches. Nothing like you.”

She tried to smile, but it hurt, and her face tightened. Eddie kissed her knuckles instead. “You look like hell.” She said then, the look in her eyes was more clear and present now.

Eddie snorted through a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yeah? You should see the other guy.” he answered as a smile was projected onto his face.

“I did. They wheeled him past, but I’m pretty sure he threw up on a nurse.” she said. “That’s fair,” Eddie muttered, letting his hand drag down his face for a second, exhausted. “I almost did too. Right before I saw all that blood, the metal rod went through my side and thought my soul was leaving my body.” she admitted.

Eddie was smiling now. He was tired, relieved, and entirely too in love. “You know,” he said, gently brushing her hand with his thumb, “You scared the hell out of me,” he said, his voice thick. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to get hit by a car.” she mumbled, words slurred with the meds.

He let out a broken laugh, eyes brimming now. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He bowed his head toward their joined hands, pressing her fingers to his lips like a prayer.

She turned her head slightly, eyes softer now. “You okay?” she asked when she looked him in the eyes for a moment.

He let out a trembling sigh, but eventually nodded. “I am now.” he said softly. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “But I mean it. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddiediaz #eddie diaz

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lyjen · 2 months ago

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Hello loves!!

Hope you’re doing well! I’ve been working on a new Eddie fic (yes a request hehe 👀) but I wanted to pop on here and ask y’all a small question.

Let me know! 🩷

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #ravi panikkar

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lyjen · 3 months ago

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Requests open?

Yes! It can take a while for me to write requests though! But, yes they are open! 😊🫶🏽

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine

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lyjen · 3 months ago

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Last Shift | Part Two | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: It’s (Y/n)’s last shift before maternity leave when she’s sent to pick up supplies at a medical store, only to be caught in a robbery. Buck, growing frantic after not hearing from her, is called to the scene with the 118 team, unaware she’s among the injured.

Trigger warings: Medical trauma, seizures ,pregnancy complications, emotional distress, some emotional outbursts :)

9-1-1 Masterlist | << Previous chapter

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The cry of the sirens filled the ambulance.

Buck sat beside the stretcher. His legs spread, elbows on his knees, as he tried to keep his hands from trembling by holding (Y/n)’s IV’ed hand. His grip was firm, like letting go would make everything worse.

The unthinkable thing happened. His worst nightmare came true.

She was lying on the gurney, her eyes fluttering open and closed. The way her head lolled slightly to the side and her lips parted beneath the oxygen mask, made his heart drop right on the spot. Her pale face, her light blue scrubs stained with a dark crimson around her shoulder, combined with the medical pads Hen had pressed to stop the bleeding were already soaked through.

He had wished so many times it was him when he looked at her.

Hen worked fast and silent as she kept her cool, a sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside Buck. He could barely breathe. He wasn’t even sure if he had taken a proper breath ever since he saw (Y/n) getting wheeled out of the store.

(Y/n)’s lips looked dry, and her eyes kept blinking like she was trying to stay awake, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Stay with me, babe.” Buck said, leaning closer, his voice tight. “Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ve got you.” he said as he pressed a soft kiss onto her hand.

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. She looked exhausted, like her body was giving up on her.

Hen worked fast across from them, her (once used to be blue) gloves covered in blood as she changed out the soaked gauze again. She barely looked up, her focus razor-sharp, but Buck caught the words she muttered under her breath “She’s losing too much blood.”

His heart stopped.

“What? Hen?” he asked, his voice sounded broken, it almost came out as a whisper. But Hen didn’t answer, she reached for more gauze, applied fresh pressure, then checked (Y/n)’s pulse again. “We just need to get her there. Keep talking to her, Buck.”

“I’m right here, babe,” Buck whispered, leaning in close. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone, okay?” (Y/n) groaned softly, her fingers twitching weakly in Buck’s grasp. He squeezed her hand again, his thumb brushing over her clammy skin.

Then, suddenly her body went rigid.

Buck felt it before he saw it. Her fingers locked up in his, her whole body stiffening unnaturally. Then the convulsions started. Her limbs jerked violently, her back arching off the gurney as her eyes rolled back.

“No, no, no,” Buck panicked, holding onto her hand even tighter. “Hen, she’s—” he couldn’t even finish that sentence or Hen cut him off. “I see it!” Hen snapped into action, quickly adjusting her position. “Buck, let go of her hand.” she commanded him.

“No- I can’t-” he stumbled, he knew he had to but he didn’t want to. “Let go, now!” The sharpness in Hen’s voice cut through his panic. Buck hesitated for half a second before finally releasing (Y/n)’s hand. Hen immediately moved to keep her from hurting herself, making sure she was positioned safely, keeping her airway clear.

Then her whole body tensed. Her back arched slightly against the gurney, arms trembling, legs twitching. Her head rolled back, eyes wide and unfocused. “Hen?! What’s happening?!” Buck’s voice sounded panicked as he took in what the hell was happening to his girl.

“She’s seizing!” Hen called out more to inform Chimney of what the hell was going on, already moving to keep her airway clear, voice sharp and calm. “Chim, step on it!” she commanded her partner. Chimney’s voice from the front was tight. “We’re pulling in now!”

Buck watched in horror as (Y/n)’s body convulsed on the stretcher. “No, no, no—baby, come on,” he begged, voice cracking. “Don’t do this. Please stay with me.” he added as he fought to hold back the tears.

Hen stabilized her as best she could, working through the tight space. “We’re not losing her,” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

The ambulance screeched into the ER bay, brakes squealing. The rear doors swung open with a bang, revealing Chimney and the hospital team that was already there, a flurry of movement and voices rising all around.

“GSW to the left shoulder,” Hen called out. “late pregnancy, active seizure! We need trauma and OB, now!”

“BP 84 over 54 and dropping,” Buck added, instinctively rattling off what he remembered. He helped lower the gurney and rolled alongside them until they reached the ER doors.

That’s when a nurse stepped forward, blocking his path with both arms out.

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t go in there.” the blonde female nurse told him as she stood in front of the doors where (Y/n) had just been pushed through.

Buck blinked at her, dazed. “What? No- no, that’s my girlfriend. She’s pregnant. That’s my- our baby- ” Buck stumbled as panic rose in his chest.

“She’s going into trauma care. We need you to wait—”

He took a step forward,the panic that had just risen, was now tightening his chest. “I’m not waiting out here! I need to be with her! What if something happens—” he snapped.

Hen caught up, stepping in between him and the nurse before things could spiral. “Buck,” she said softly, firmly, placing a steady hand on his chest. “I know. I know you want to go in. But this is where we have to let the doctors do their jobs. She's going into emergency surgery. You being in there won’t help her now.” she tried to pull him back into reality.

“She was seizing, Hen,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking. “She’s not waking up. What if—” he cut himself off. He placed a hand on his mouth as he tried to keep back the sobs that were breaking through, right here and now.

“She’s stronger than this. You know she is,” Hen said gently. “And she’s not alone in there. You got her this far. Now, let them do the rest.” she added.

Buck stood there, frozen, chest heaving. Hen didn’t move her hand from his chest, grounding him. And all he could do was whisper to himself, over and over, like a silent prayer “Please come back to me.”

His legs wouldn’t stop moving, his heart wouldn’t slow down, and his hands were shaking so badly that he had to clench them into fists. He paced the waiting room, back and forth, running a hand through his hair over and over. Every time the doors leading to the ER swung open, his head snapped up, hoping, praying for an update.

But nothing.

He could still hear her soft whimpers. The vision of her lying down on the gurney, her body jerking, were seared in his brain.

Hen and Chimney sat nearby, watching him, but they didn’t try to stop him from pacing. They knew better. They knew he was barely holding himself together that if they said the wrong thing, he might just break.

His phone buzzed in his hand, but it wasn’t her. Of course it wasn’t her. She was in surgery, and he knew that. But deep down there was still a little spark of hope.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch the wall. This wasn’t fair.

What if I lose them? The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea through him. His stomach twisted so painfully that he thought he might throw up. His breaths came quicker, shallower. His throat was tight, like a vice was squeezing around it, and he couldn’t take in enough air no matter how hard he tried. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

His fingers twitched at his sides, itching for something to hold onto, something to ground him. But there was nothing. Only the sterile walls of the waiting room, the harsh fluorescent lighting, and the unbearable weight of the unknown crushing down on him.

He shook his head violently, trying to push the thought away. No. No, I can’t think like that.

But the worry kept clawing at him, digging deeper, making it impossible to think about anything else. He had never felt so helpless before. He had pulled people from burning buildings, performed CPR on dying victims, and risked his life more times than he could count. But none of that compared to this.

This was his entire world on an operating table, and there was nothing he could do to save her. He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t do anything but wait. And he was going insane. He was losing his damn’ mind in this freaking waiting room.

His pulse thundered in his ears, a deafening roar taking over his hearing. His vision blurred for a moment, dark spots creeping in at the edges. He ran both hands over his face, dragging them down as he tried to keep himself from unraveling completely.

Bobby and Eddie walked into the ER waiting room, their expressions tense as they spotted him. Bobby started to say something, but before he could, Buck suddenly stopped pacing.

He stared at the wall, his chest tightening. His fists clenched. His anger flared, the worry and fear boiling up inside of him like a hot, violent wave. He couldn’t control it anymore.

With a sharp, frustrated yell, he turned and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. The impact sent a loud echo through the waiting room. The pain shot through his knuckles, but it was nothing compared to the ache inside him. "Damn’ it," Buck muttered under his breath, breathing hard, his face flushed as he shook as a reaction to the pain he experienced in his hand.

His heart was still pounding, and his head was starting to feel dizzy. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was spiraling. He needed to be strong, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose both of them.

Hen jumped, Chimney cursed under his breath, and a few people nearby turned to stare. Bobby moved quickly, stepping in front of Buck before he could hit anything else.

There was a fire in Buck’s eyes, a look so sharp, so full of rage, fear, and desperation, as if he was ready to kill someone with his bare hands. His breathing was erratic, his chest heaving with every sharp inhale.

“Hey! That’s not gonna help,” Bobby said firmly, grabbing Buck’s wrist before he could pull back for another punch. “I know you’re scared, but you can’t lose it here.” Bobby said as he looked Buck in the eye, trying to get him back to reality.

Buck’s nostrils flared as he tried to pull his arm free, but Bobby’s grip was strong, steady. It was grounding. He didn’t realize how badly he needed that until right now. “I should’ve been there,” Buck choked out, his voice breaking. “I should’ve protected her.”

Eddie, now standing next to Bobby, shook his head. “Buck, this isn’t your fault.” he said. Buck looked at the floor as he let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded so broken, so unlike him. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

No one had an answer for that.

Bobby sighed, keeping his grip on Buck’s wrist, making sure he wouldn’t lash out again. “I know you want to do something, but right now, the best thing you can do is be here when she wakes up.”

Buck swallowed hard, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he muttered, “If… she wakes up.”

Bobby’s expression softened at his words, his hand squeezing Buck’s shoulder. “She will.”

But Buck didn’t look convinced. So he didn’t fight when Bobby guided him to sit down. He didn’t even protest when Chimney placed a bottle of water in his hand. And when Eddie sat beside him, saying nothing, just being there, Buck finally let his head fall into his hands.

His knuckles throbbed from where he had hit the wall. His body felt like it was made of stone, heavy and weighed down with exhaustion, fear, and endless waiting. But that was all he could do. Wait.

Hours passed.

The clock on the wall ticked away, each second feeling longer than the last. Buck had lost track of time, lost track of how many times he had checked the doors, hoping a doctor would walk through with news. Any news.

His leg bounced restlessly. His body was exhausted, but there was no way in hell he was going to close his eyes, not even for a slight second, not until he knew she was okay.

No one left. The entire team stayed with him. Even when Buck had turned to Hen and told her, “You should go home. Be with Karen and Denny.” She had just given him a look, one that told him there was no way in hell she was leaving.

Someone had gone out and brought back coffee. The only thing in his system for the past hours were a few cups of coffee, to keep him awake. While a bag of food was being brought in by someone else. Chimney had tried to get him to eat something, shoving a wrapped sandwich into his hand, but Buck had just placed it back down onto the seat next to him without a word.

He couldn’t eat. He could barely even breathe.

Eddie sat beside him now, elbows resting on his knees, his own coffee cup untouched in his hands. “She’s strong, Buck,” he said quietly. “She’s gonna fight through this.” Buck nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

Because no matter how much he wanted to believe that, he couldn’t shake the fear. He knew he had to keep faith, and that everyone who tried to speak to him tried to stay positive.

His hands scrubbed over his face, the roughness of his stubble grounding him for a moment before his mind spiraled all over again. What if something went wrong in surgery? What if she lost too much blood? What if— So many unanswered questions roared through his mind with the speed of light.

The door swung open and a doctor stepped into the waiting room. Buck looked up from the point he had been staring at for the last minutes, and stood up wiping his sweaty palms onto the fabric of his pants. “How is she?”

The doctor’s face was calm but serious. “She made it through surgery.” A breath whooshed out of Buck’s lungs as his knees nearly gave out under him. “But,” the doctor continued, “it was touch and go for a while. The bullet caused a lot of internal damage, and she lost a significant amount of blood. We had to work fast.”

Buck swallowed, his throat dry. “And the baby?” The doctor’s expression softened slightly. “He’s here. He was delivered via an emergency C-section. He’s in the NICU, but he’s stable.”

The world tilted. Buck had to hold on to Eddie’s shoulder who was standing beside him, to steady himself.

His son was here. He was here.

“She’s still unconscious,” the doctor added. “We’re monitoring her closely. The next 24 hours are critical.” The words hit like a gut punch, but Buck refused to let himself spiral again. She was out of surgery, alive. Their baby was alive. That was what mattered.

“Can I see them?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. The doctor nodded. “Come with me.”

Buck turned to his team, his family. They all gave him silent nods of encouragement. Bobby clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Eddie squeezed his arm, and Hen and Chim gave him two soft, tired smiles. “Go,” Bobby said. “We’ll be here.”

The hospital hallway was quiet, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and something sterile, that Buck barely noticed. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.

The doctor had handed Buck over to a nurse, who guided him toward the NICU doors. The nurse stopped him before they entered the unit.

“You’ll need to sanitize first,” she said gently as she pointed to the hand hygiene station just a bit before the sliding doors of the NICU.

Buck nodded quickly, stepping up to the sink. He scrubbed his hands like his life depended on it, washing away every trace of dirt and ash from the day’s events. The warm water ran over his skin, but he still felt cold. Still felt like he was shaking from the inside out.

After rinsing, he grabbed a few paper towels, drying his hands before reaching for the sanitizer. He rubbed the alcohol-based gel over his fingers, making sure every inch was covered.

The nurse handed him a disposable gown, a light pink one. He barely registered the color as he pulled it on, tying it behind his back with slightly unsteady hands. “This way,” the nurse said, when Buck was ready to go inside. She pushed one of the doors open and led him inside.

The NICU was dim, a line up with incubators and small cribs in his line of sight. Soft beeping filled the air, a quiet rhythm of tiny heartbeats and steady breaths. A few nurses moved carefully between them, adjusting monitors and checking on the babies under their care.

Buck stepped inside, and the nurse closed the door when she stepped in after Buck. Buck stood there for a small second, taking in the room, When the nurse he had been following for the past few minutes, led him through the room and stopped beside one of the incubators, and gave Buck a soft smile.

Buck stopped. His breath caught in his throat.

Inside one of the incubators his baby boy was wrapped up snug in a soft hospital blanket, a tiny pink hat covering his head. He was so small. His little hands curled into fists, his chest rising and falling in soft, steady breaths.

Tears were burning into his eyes as he watched this tiny human. His whole body went weak. How was he supposed to breathe right now? “That’s your son,” the nurse said quietly, stepping up beside him. “He’s doing really well. Would you like to touch him?”

Buck’s eyes widened. “I- I can?”

She nodded and lifted a flap on the side of the incubator. “You can reach in through here. Just be gentle.”

Buck stepped closer. He took a breath, then slowly slipped his hand inside. His fingers trembled as they brushed the back of his son’s hand. So warm. So small. So alive.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, voice catching in his throat. “It’s me. Your dad.”

The world outside didn’t matter. The fear, the panic, the waiting, it all disappeared. Because right now, in this moment, nothing else existed but him and his boy. Buck swallowed hard, blinking back tears as he took in every little detail.

The baby didn’t move much, just a little wiggle, like he knew someone was there. Buck smiled, eyes glistening. “You look just like her,” he murmured. “You have her nose.” he smiled as his thumb gently traced over the tiny fingers. He felt the burn of tears in his eyes, but this time he let them fall.

“You scared us, buddy,” he murmured. “But you’re strong. Just like her.” The nurse stepped back, giving him a moment of quiet.

Buck leaned his forehead gently against the glass, his hand still inside the incubator, still touching his son. His chest ached, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. It was from love.

Pure, overwhelming love.

He traced his index finger softly over the boy’s small cheek. “We’ll figure out a name for you soon, I promise.” He smiled softly. “For now, you’re just my little man.” The baby let out the smallest little noise like he was agreeing with him.

Buck let out a watery laugh. For the first time in hours, maybe even days, he felt okay.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there in the NICU, with his hand in the incubator, his eyes locked on his son.

He sat in the NICU, pink gown still on, his hands resting on the edge of the incubator, fingertips gently brushing the soft skin of his son through the port. The steady sounds of beeping monitors filled the quiet. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. This tiny, perfect little boy.

His chest still felt heavy, like it was carrying everything all at once, relief, fear, love, exhaustion. His thumb stroked over the newborn’s curled fingers. “You're a fighter, you know that?” he whispered.

A nurse stepped in quietly, voice soft. “Mr. Buckley?” He looked over, eyes still hazy.

“She’s out of recovery,” she said with a gentle smile. “They’ve moved her to the ICU. She’s stable, but… they want to monitor her closely. Blood loss, and with the seizure just to be safe.” the nurse explained the situation.

His heart jumped in his chest. “Can I- can I see her?” he stumbled as he needed a second to realize the words that came out of the nurse’s mouth. The nurse nodded. “You’ll have to gown up again once you come back here, but yes you can. ” she confirmed.

Buck pushed onto his feet. But before he left the room, he looked back at the incubator one last time, eyes soft. “I’ll be right back, buddy. Gotta go check on your mom.” he said as he reached into the incubator one last time touching his small hand.

The door clicked shut softly behind Buck as he stepped into her hospital room.

Everything in the ICU was calm, but it felt too quiet. Too sterile. The air was cool, humming with machines and quiet footsteps from nurses moving down the hallway. But to Buck, it all blurred into the background.

His eyes were locked on the hospital bed. There she was.

Her body is surrounded by wires, monitors, and IV lines. Her skin was pale, lips slightly parted as she breathed through an oxygen cannula. Her eyes were closed, and she hadn’t moved—not once. But her heart was beating. The monitor proved that.

He stopped for a second. Just took her in. His chest tightened, and the pressure behind his eyes returned. God, he had almost lost her.

He dragged a chair up close and sat down heavily, like his legs could barely hold him anymore. His hand trembled as he reached out, gently brushing her fingers before wrapping his hand around hers. Cold. But still there.

His thumb slowly ran over her knuckles. “Hey, Waddles,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’m here.” he said as he pressed his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from breaking down.

He looked at her hand in his, then up at her face. “You’re in the ICU,” he said quietly. “Doctors said you’re stable, just need time. Said you lost a lot of blood, and with the seizure... they didn’t want to take any chances.” he told her softly as he swallowed hard. His heart was still racing, even now.

“You scared the hell out of me, (Y/n).” He smiled sadly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against the back of her hand. “I saw him,” he whispered. “Our boy.” his voice cracked at those two small words. Emotions taking over his voice now. He felt the tears gathering in his eyes, but he didn’t stop them this time.

“He’s perfect,” Buck said softly. “So small... but he’s strong. He’s in the NICU, but the nurses said he’s doing good. They let me sit with him for a while.”

He looked up again, eyes red. “I didn’t hold him yet. He’s still in the incubator, but I got to touch him. He held my finger, babe. You should’ve seen him... he’s got your nose. I swear, he already looks like you.” His thumb kept tracing slow circles against her skin. A grounding motion, something to do, something to feel.

“They put him in a pink hat,” he chuckled quietly, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You’d probably love that. I kept thinking about what you’d say. How you’d make fun of me for crying over a newborn in a tiny pink hat.”

A long silence followed. Machines beeped steadily. Nurses passed by the glass wall outside the room. Buck stayed where he was, sitting with her, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him together.

He leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “I love you,” he murmured. “So much. And I’m not going anywhere. You take all the time you need. We’re waiting for you.”

He adjusted the blanket around her, carefully tucking it near her shoulder. Then he sat back, never letting go of her hand.

The lighting in the ICU room was dim, just enough to keep things gentle on the eyes. The only sounds were the steady rhythm of the heart monitor, the low hum of machines, and the soft breath of someone sleeping.

Buck was slouched in the chair, his head resting gently on the edge of the hospital bed. One hand was still wrapped around hers, fingers intertwined loosely, even in sleep. His face was turned toward her, peaceful in a way it hadn’t been in days.

(Y/n)'s fingers twitched.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, the world around her blurred and unfamiliar at first. Her throat was dry, her body heavy but her mind caught up to her heartbeat quickly.

She tried to speak, but only a hoarse whisper escaped. “Buck…”

His eyes opened immediately. His head snapped up like he wasn’t really asleep to begin with, like some part of him had been waiting for her voice the whole time.

A shaky breath escaped his lips, followed by a broken laugh. “Hey… hey, baby.” Tears filled his eyes as he leaned closer, brushing hair gently away from her face. His heart ached with relief. “You’re okay… you’re really okay.” he said, mostly to comfort himself.

(Y/n) blinked slowly, her lips parting as she tried to find her bearings. “Did we… did we make it?” she asked softly and a little slowly. Buck nodded, eyes never leaving hers. His voice was hoarse. “Yeah. We made it.”

But suddenly, something shifted in her expression. Confusion. Realization. She looked down at the blankets covering her, a flicker of panic crossing her face. Her hands gripped the fabric, pulling it up, pulling it aside, desperate eyes searching.

Her stomach was different now. Soft. Empty. No more kicking. No pressure on her ribs or bladder. Just space where something once was. Her breath caught.

“Where- where is..?” Her voice cracked, climbing with panic. “Where is he? Where’s our baby?” Buck quickly sat forward, his hands gently cupping her face.

“Hey- hey, look at me,” he said, voice calm but firm. “He’s okay. I swear to you, he’s okay.” he reassured her as (Y/n)’s lip trembled, her eyes wide and brimming with fear. A tear escaped the corner of her eye but Buck gently brushed it away with his thumb.

“You went into labor early,” Buck continued, rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks now. “Thirty-four weeks. They had to do an emergency C-section while you were still unconscious. It was fast. Scary. But he made it.”

She let out a shaky breath, tears slipping down her temples down her cheeks. “He’s in the NICU right now,” Buck said softly. “He’s strong, just like you. But he’s got to stay there for a little while. He’s hooked up to some machines… you know, just to help him out until he’s ready.” he explained.

There was a pause. Her chest still rose and fell with shaky breaths, but some of the panic in her eyes faded. She looked at him again, really looked. “And you’re okay?” she whispered. “He’s really okay?”

“He’s more than okay,” Buck whispered. He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, his hand brushing her hair back. “You both are. And I’ve been with him. Every second I could.” he said as he placed his forehead against hers for a moment, letting A quiet, emotional silence fell over the room. Just the two of them, breathing, together again.

Buck pulled back, clearing his throat, offering a soft smile. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” he suddenly said.

Her eyes flicked toward him, confused. “You mean..?” she asked him. “I can’t bring him here yet,” Buck explained. “But I didn’t want you to wait either.”

Buck came as close as he could to (Y/n), awkwardly half-sitting on the side of the hospital bed, he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. Within seconds, a FaceTime call connected.

* Earlier

Buck stepped out of the NICU, the pink gown crumpled in his hands, his heart still racing from the moment he'd spent with his son. He was supposed to throw the pink gown in the bin, but his legs moved faster than his brain.

Before he knew it he was walking down the halls, towards the waiting room where he had left his team a few hours back.

The team was scattered around the waiting area, low conversations filling the space, coffee cups on the table, exhaustion written all over their faces. Bobby, Hen, and Chimney sat together while Eddie leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, bouncing one knee restlessly.

The sound of the door caught their attention, and all eyes turned toward him. He looked a little dazed, like his mind was still somewhere else. He was carrying the crumpled pink NICU gown in one hand, fingers curled around the fabric tightly.

Hen stood up first. “Buck?” her voice was soft but calm. Buck nodded as he slowly walked towards them, as he was fidgeting the pink fabric between his fingers. The team was slowly gathering around Buck and Hen.

“And?” Eddie’s voice sounded gentle. Buck let out a shaky breath as he finally got the guts to look his team in the eyes, and gave a small smile. “I saw him.” he said.

There was a pause in between the words. Then he added, “He’s small. So small. But he’s doing okay. They’ve got him in an incubator to help regulate his temperature and breathing. NICU nurses said for thirty-four weeks, he’s actually doing really well.”

They all let out a breath of relief. “Is he beautiful?” Chimney asked with a small smile. Buck laughed softly. “He’s perfect. Little fingers, tiny nose. I think he has her eyes. Or… her nose. Maybe both.” he chuckled softly as Bobby placed his hand onto his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze.

Hen gave him a warm smile. “Did you get to hold him?” she asked. Buck shook his head as he was still holding the gown in his lap like it was something sacred. “Not yet. But I got to touch him. Through the incubator.” His voice softened. “He grabbed my finger.”

Smiles were projected on all of their faces as they listened to those words. “I was on my way to see (Y/n),” Buck added. “They moved her to the ICU. She’s still unconscious, but stable.”

Hen nodded. “That’s a good sign.” she confirmed as she laid her hand on his upper arm, rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his LAFD hoodie.

Buck’s eyes wandered from down to the floor to looking at Hen directly, almost shyly. “Hey… Hen?” his voice cracked a bit as he said her name. She blinked. “Yeah?”

“You wanna meet him?” he asked then, out of the blue. She froze as she looked back at him, confusion written on her face. “Me?” she asked, why would he ask her?

“Yeah.” Buck smiled, this time more fully. “You kept her alive. You should be the first to meet him. At Least if you want to…” Buck continued. Hen looked around at the others for a second, stunned. Then back at Buck. “Are you sure?” she asked him to double check his choice.

He nodded. “Auntie Hen’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” he smiled as he held his arm out and motioned his head towards the doors to invite her.

She smiled, eyes full of emotion. “Yeah. It really does.”

The camera opened to Hen’s face. She was sitting beside the incubator, already smiling as she angled the phone just right. And there he was.

Small. Fragile. Wrapped in a nest of blankets and wires. Their son.

“Oh…” (Y/n) gasped, her breath hitching. Her hand flew to her mouth as tears began pouring down her face. “He’s so tiny.” she cried.

Buck leaned in closer beside her, their heads nearly touching as they both stared at the screen. “Meet your mama, little guy,” he said softly.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she whispered, “Hi, baby… hi.” she sobbed.

(Y/n) couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. There he was, so small, so delicate, but real. Their son. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached toward the phone, as if she could touch him through the glass.

“Look at the little pink hat, he is so small” she whispered, voice cracking as the tears welled in her eyes.

Buck let out a soft breath beside her, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Yeah he might be small… but he’s strong. He gets that from you.” Buck whispered as he looked at (Y/n).

Hen chuckled gently on the other end of the call. “He also made that grumpy face when he woke up. Definitely gets that from Buck.”

“Woah, you do realize I’m right here?” Buck said, mock-offended. “Oh yeah, I know.” Hen laughed.

(Y/n) managed a watery laugh through her tears, looking at the screen again. Their son was shifting slightly in his sleep, his tiny mouth twitching, fingers curling. Her heart ached just watching him.

“Does he have a name?” Hen asked softly after a moment of silence. Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “Not yet,” he said “I’ve just been calling him buddy… or champ. Little bean once or twice.” he added.

Hen grinned. “Little bean. That’s adorable. I expect that on a mug, Buckley.” Hen said as she for a second turned the camera to herself and then back at the little boy. He gave a quiet laugh, then turned back to (Y/n) as he watched her think for a moment.

“I think… he looks like a Finn,” she whispered. Buck stilled, eyes studying her face. “Finn?” he repeated as he switched looks between her and the screen.

She nodded, eyes never leaving the screen. “Yeah. I don’t know. It just fits, doesn’t it? Like, look at him. That’s definitely a Finn.” she said, maybe a little too dreamy.

Buck didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked back down at the screen, watching his son. He mouthed the name silently. Finn.

The weight of it landed gently in his chest, soft but solid. Real. He whispered it once, just to see how it felt in the air. “Finn…Finn Buckley.”

(Y/n) looked up at him, brows lifted slightly, waiting. Buck looked between the two people he loved most. He gave the tiniest nod. “Yeah. Finn. That’s… that’s his name.”

Hen sniffled quietly on the other side of the call. “Well, hello, Finn. It’s nice to meet you.” she said as the camera showed Finn grabbing Hen’s index finger with his small hand.

“You mean,” Buck said with a playful grin, “it’s nice to meet your Auntie Hen.” she said. Buck grinned softly, eyes still on the screen. “You mean… it’s nice to meet your Auntie Hen.”

Hen raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming. “Oh, we’re really keeping that in, huh?” she asked. Buck gave a slow, proud nod. “Oh yeah. It’s official.”

Hen let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “Fine. But just so we’re clear, I don’t do diapers.” she just needed to make sure that wasn’t happening.

Hen smiled. “I’m here to spoil Finn rotten. That’s the job description.” she said as she looked at the phone in her other hand. Buck smiled, warmth rising in his chest as he looked at (Y/n) and then at their son again. “He’s lucky to have you.” Hen smiled back, her voice quieter now. “You all are.”

(Y/n) giggled through her tears at the conversation and leaned gently into Buck’s shoulder. He kept his arm wrapped around her, holding the phone steady so she could keep looking at their son.

Buck watched as (Y/n) gazed at the screen, her hand slowly reaching out like she could

“Hi, Finn,” her voice was soft, a little raspy, but filled with warmth as she whispered, "I promise we’ll be with you soon, baby. Mommy just needs to get a little stronger first." she said as she let her finger almost touch the screen. Buck pressed his warm, soft lips to the side of her head, as he comforted her.

Hen gave her a look full of love and reassurance. “He’ll be waiting. We all will.”

A few days had passed since the chaos. Since the ambulance, the surgery, the terrifying unknown. (Y/n) had been slowly healing in the ICU, exhausted, sore, but alive. Breathing. And every day, as her body regained its strength, her heart ached a little more for one thing:

Her son.

She hadn’t been able to hold him yet. Not once. Not even a second.

The nurses and doctors had done everything they could to keep her updated. Buck made it his mission to visit Finn multiple times a day. And every time, without fail, someone would FaceTime her from the NICU.

Hen. Bobby. Chimney. Even Eddie, who pretended he didn’t cry but always conveniently had “allergies.”

They showed her his little expressions, the way his fingers curled, how he would kick his feet just a little when the incubator doors opened. And every time, she would whisper the same thing, barely loud enough for the phone to pick it up: “Just wait for me, baby. I’m coming.”

Healing came slowly, but (Y/n) had gotten stronger. Strong enough to sit up without help, to eat, to talk, and finally… to ask for one thing over and over: “I want to see him.”

And today, the doctor finally said yes.

The doctor had given the green light. Finn was doing well. His vitals were stable, he was breathing on his own, and his feeding tube had been removed just that morning. The incubator was still there for warmth and monitoring, but now that his condition had improved, he could be held for short, closely supervised moments.

The hallway to the NICU felt like it stretched on forever.

Buck pushed her wheelchair gently, dressed again in the required pink gown. He didn’t rush. He could feel her pulse through her hand. It was fast, trembling and her breaths were shallow and tight.

He crouched a little. (Y/n)’s hands shook as she held them out, and Buck quickly helped her slip on the gown, tying the strings behind her back.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to see her face. She blinked quickly, wiping under her eyes. “I don’t know how to describe it. My chest… it hurts. Not in a bad way. Just… like I can’t breathe until I’m with him.” she tried to explain the best she could.

Buck pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re almost there.”

The doors opened, and the warmth of the NICU wrapped around them. Machines hummed quietly, nurses moved with practiced calm, and soft lullabies played low in the background. It smelled like clean linens and that strange sterile softness only hospitals had.

And there he was… wrapped in a tiny cotton blanket, a nurse was already cradling him against her chest in preparation. “He’s been fed, changed, and we’ve got him bundled just right,” she whispered with a warm smile. “You ready, Mama?”

(Y/n) couldn’t speak, the words were caught in her throat. So she just nodded, her eyes wide and shimmering.

The nurse leaned in. “We’ll monitor vitals the whole time. He’s doing great, which means he’s ready for some real snuggles.”

And with those words, they placed him in her arms.

Her entire body stilled.

Finn’s tiny weight pressed against her chest, and she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. He was so small. So warm. She adjusted her arms and nestled him close, and the second her skin touched his cheek, he let out the softest sound, like he’d been waiting for this too.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, choking on a sob. “Hi, baby. I’m here. Mommy’s here.” she said softly.

Buck knelt beside her, one arm around her shoulders, the other brushing his thumb gently across Finn’s swaddled back. His own eyes were misty. “Told you he was strong.”

(Y/n) smiled through her tears as she let her eyes wander from Finn to Buck. “You were right. He’s perfect.” she cried. Buck smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips.

It was the first time they were together. Not over a screen, but truly together. And for the first time since everything happened… she felt whole, they both did.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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lyjen · 3 months ago

Text

Last Shift | Part one | Evan “Buck” Buckley

TW: gun violence, medical trauma, seizure, hostage situation.

9-1-1 Masterlist | Next chapter >>

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The smell of bacon and eggs filled the small apartment of Buck and (Y/n) as Buck stood at the stove, waiting for the bacon to get crispy. The sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the countertops. He was in his element, cooking for (Y/n) before their shifts, stealing and enjoying the little moments of peace before the chaos of the day.

But the sound of the Bacon sizzling in the pan was interrupted by a thump, followed by a grunt and some muffled cursing.

Buck paused for a second, holding the spatula in his hand, hovering over the pan. He furrowed his brows, listening to the sounds that came from deeper in the apartment.

Another grunt sounded through the apartment, then a frustrated sigh and a very muttered “Oh, come on.”

He raised a brow, as he listened to the struggling (Y/n) and decided to turn off the burner. "(Y/n)?" he called as he made his way through the hall, but he didn’t receive a response from her. That was suspicious.

He made his way toward the bedroom, as he approached, he heard more and more struggling sounds, combined with some curse words, he was pretty sure she was talking to herself. The sound of something softly hitting the floor filled the air now.

When he finally managed to reach the bedroom, he leaned with his shoulder against the doorway, crossing his arms as he took in the scene before him. (Y/n) who was very pregnant and stubborn, was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to put on her shoes. And failing.

Her belly made it nearly impossible to bend forward enough to tie them, she was doing this sort of awkward side-lean, foot propped up, fingers barely brushing the laces of her lightweight training shoes. Every time she got close to tying them, her bump got in the way.

Buck bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Her nose scrunched in determination. She let out another soft grunt, wiggling her fingers toward the laces like that would somehow bring them closer. Her tongue peeked out at the corner of her mouth, her “concentration face.”

God, he thought she was adorable.

She huffed again, dropping her foot with an annoyed sigh. “Stupid shoes.” she said defeated as she let out a very dramatic sigh and flopped onto her back, arms spread out in defeat. And that was the moment when Buck finally broke.

"You know," he finally spoke, his voice filled with amusement, "they say admitting you need help is the first step." he said. Making (Y/n) let out a soft yelp in surprise, her head snapping up to see him standing there with a very amused smirk. “How long have you been standing there?!” she asked him.

He grinned. "Long enough to witness the greatest battle between a woman and her sneakers." he said. She groaned, covering her face with her hands as she remained lying with her back on the bed. “This is so embarrassing.” she whined.

Buck chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and making his way over. He knelt in front of her, gently nudging her knee. "Alright, Superwoman, let me help before you hurt yourself." he said as he held out his hands to her, trying to help her sit back up.

She laid her hands in his as he helped her sit back up again. Her cheeks flushed because of embarrassment. She grumbled something under her breath but lifted her foot, and stared at Buck who kneeled in front of her. With practiced ease, he took her foot in his hands, slipping the shoe on properly and tying the laces, even double-knotting them because he knew she hated when they came undone.

"I could’ve done it, you know." she broke the small silence.

"Mmhmm." He glanced up at her with a teasing grin. "You sure you don’t wanna try again? Looked like you were real close." he asked her as he stopped mid-action. She playfully nudged his shoulder with her other socked foot, making him laugh.

Once he was done, he looked up at her with a soft smile, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her knee. "There. Ready for battle, soldier." he said, as he patted his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb softly over her knee.

(Y/n) sighed dramatically. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" she asked him with puppy eyes, with a spark of hope that he might just forget about this. Buck grinned. "Not a chance."

He stood up again, holding out his hands once more, silently telling her to put her hands into his again. She placed her hands into his, and he pulled her to her feet with ease. “Now come on, let’s get you some breakfast before you start challenging your jacket next.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, giving him a soft, playful push. Buck chuckled, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles before resting it against her belly for a moment. “Alright, come on, trouble. Let’s feed you and the little bean before you start getting cranky.” he then said.

(Y/n) scoffed. “I do not get cranky.” she said. Buck raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Should I remind you about the great pickle incident of last week?” he asked. She gasped, lightly smacking his arm. “That was one time! And you ate the last one on purpose!”

He just grinned, slipping an arm around her waist as he guided her toward the kitchen. “Mmhmm. Come on, let’s go.”

Buck guided (Y/n) into the kitchen, his arm still wrapped around her waist as he helped her lower herself into a chair. She sighed dramatically, resting a hand on her belly as she got comfortable.

"You're such a good house husband," she teased as she watched him move back to the stove. Buck scoffed, turning over the last pieces of bacon. "House husband? Excuse you, I also save lives for a living." he said.

(Y/n) smirked at his reaction. "Mmm, sure, but I think cooking me breakfast is way more heroic." she said dreamy. He turned, with the spatula in his hand, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? So running into burning buildings is nothing compared to making you eggs?"

She grinned. "Absolutely." Buck just shook his head with a laugh, grabbing a plate and loading it up with eggs and bacon. He set it in front of her before sitting down with his own.

(Y/n) didn’t waste any time. She picked up a piece of bacon, took a bite, and instantly moaned. "Oh my God." She covered her mouth, eyes closing as she chewed. "Buck, this is so good." she said. Buck grinned at her reaction, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I was the full package, firefighter, chef, soon-to-be baby whisperer."

Before she could respond, she suddenly felt a little thump against her belly. (Y/n) stilled, placing her hand over the spot, waiting. Another tiny kick. She smiled softly, glancing over at Buck. “You like Daddy’s cooking, huh?” she said as she switched looks between Buck and back to her belly.

Buck immediately dropped his fork and turned to her, eyes lighting up like Christmas. “Wait, really?” he asked. She nodded with a smile on her face. She grabbed his hand and placed it against her belly. They waited in silence. Then a little nudge, right against his palm.

Buck let out a breathless laugh. "Whoa." He rubbed slow circles over her bump, grinning. "Hey there, little bean. You're already taking after your mom, huh? Bossing me around before you're even born." he said as he glanced up at (Y/n).

(Y/n) chuckled at his words, rolling her eyes. “You're just lucky we both love food.”

They went back to eating, sharing little smiles and soft touches. But after a few minutes of silence, (Y/n) caught Buck staring at her, she raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Buck shrugged, chewing a piece of bacon. "Nothing."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes. "Buck." she said with this warning tone, telling him she knew he was holding something back. His lips twitched, but then he sighed, setting his fork down. "I don't know… I just like this."

She softened, tilting her head. "Like what?" she asked as she took another bite of her food. He gestured between them. "You. Me. Breakfast. Our little bean kicking in there…" he placed a hand on her belly again, smiling. "It's nice." He said as he brushed his thumb up and down over her belly.

(Y/n) exhaled softly, lacing her fingers with his. "Yeah… it is." She said as she looked down to her belly, both of their hands resting on it, and glanced back to Buck.

They stayed like that for a moment, just soaking in the quiet, before Buck glanced at the clock and sighed. "Alright, we should probably get going. Don't want you being late on your last shift." he said as he stood up from his chair.

(Y/n) groaned, as she looked at the clock for a second. "Ugh, fine." she whined as she sent the clock an annoyed look, while in the meantime Buck collected the dishes and placed them in the sink. They’d deal with that later.

She pushed her chair back and went to stand up, but Buck was already there, helping her up like the world's most attentive boyfriend. She gave him a look. “You do know I can still walk, right?” she asked him as he helped her on her feet.

Buck smirked, his hands resting on her hips. “Yeah, but you waddle now. It’s cuter.” He said as he quickly pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.

(Y/n) gasped, smacking his arm. “I do not waddle!” she said, as she watched Buck laughing, dodging another playful swat as he grabbed their jackets. “Come on, Waddles, let’s go.” He said as he held her jacket open for her.

“Buck!”

______

The bright led lights of the hospital cast a cool glow over the bustling hallways as (Y/n) navigated through the chaos, phone pressed between her shoulder and ear. Her free hand instinctively rested on her belly as she weaved around gurneys, dodged IV stands, and nodded politely at fellow nurses who rushed past her.

Her mind was overwhelmed, patients needing care, interns looking for guidance, the dull ache in her lower back from standing too long. But for just a moment, she wanted an escape from reality. And there was only one person who could give her that.

“Hey, baby,” Buck’s familiar voice filtered through the phone, sending a small wave of comfort through her. “How’s my favorite nurse doing?” he asked as he pressed his phone to his ear while he sat on the lip of the open ambulance.

(Y/n) sighed, glancing at the packed nurses’ station as she passed by. “Exhausted, overworked, and in desperate need of a nap. So, you know, the usual.” She answered his question as she let out a small laugh.

She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Sounds like a slow day.” he said, making her lips twitch on the other side of the line. “And you? You sound a little out of breath. What are you doing?” She asked.

There was some shuffling on his end before he answered. “Oh, nothing crazy. Just pulled a guy out of a burning apartment.” he answered as he scanned the scene around him.

Part of his crew were running around the scene. The fire was out, but they were wrapping up things on the scene before returning to the firehouse.

She stopped abruptly in her tracks as she realized what he just told her. “Buck.” She sighed, his name left her lips like a warning, as her heart picked up speed. “I’m fine,” he cut in before she could start a discussion. “Hen already checked me over, just a little smoke inhalation, nothing serious.” he reassured her. He could still feel the dry ashes in his lungs.

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her forehead. She placed her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she placed her other hand on her stomach. “You stress me out, you know that?” she told him as she felt the mini Evan in her belly kicking.

“Good thing you love me,” he teased, and just like that, the tension between them melted away. She smiled softly, grabbing her phone in her hand again as she finally reached the breakroom and leaned against the doorframe. “I… actually don’t know why I called. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, the exhaustion finally creeping in.

There was a pause on his end before he replied, softer this time. “Yeah? That’s funny, ‘cause I was hoping to hear yours, too.” he said, (Y/n) could hear he was smiling at her words. For a moment, everything else faded away around her. The beeping monitors, the distant sound of a patient calling for a nurse, the hurried footsteps. It was just them, his voice as clear as day. As if he was standing right next to her.

(Y/n) let her eyes flutter shut for a second, soaking in his presence through the phone. She let out a sigh, as she could hear Buck’s breathing through the statics of the phone. “Well, don’t get too used to it. You know the deal. I’ll call you on my break.” she said, biting her lip to suppress the smile that was appearing on her face.

“Ugh, rules,” he groaned dramatically through the phone.

It was their thing. Whenever they were both on shift, (Y/n) would call him when she was on break. He would either be at the station or on a call that basically came to an end, that’s when he’d pick up the phone. If she called him when he was on call, of course he couldn’t answer. But he would call her back as soon as he could.

They had a system, and it worked. But at this moment she wasn’t on break. She just wanted to hear his voice, somehow only hearing his voice made her world stop spinning for a moment. But that phone date in her break was still on.

She chuckled. “I love you, Buck…” she sighed, pausing as she pressed her eyes closed. “Be careful..” she added. She didn’t want to be the one who told him to be careful, to come home safely.

His heart skipped a beat when he heard her saying those words. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and the obvious worry. A small smile appeared on his face as he looked down to the asphalt. “Love you more... Call me when you’re on break, okay?”

“I will.” she said, as they both said their goodbyes. Her finger had just touched the red button, as she heard her name being called. She pushed herself from leaning against the doorframe and glanced behind her. She placed her phone into her pocket as she found one of the nurses in charge, hurrying towards her, the urgency written all over her face.

"We need you to run to the store," her boss said slightly out of breath when she was finally in range. (Y/n) frowned at the order, it wasn’t much of a request. “The store?” she asked, confused. “Yeah, we’re completely out of sterile saline bags, and supply won’t be restocking until tomorrow.”

Her frown deepened. Sterile saline bags were an essential part of patient care, they were used for IV fluids, wound cleaning, and a dozen other things. But how had they completely run out?

“Are you sure you don’t have anything left?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Did anyone check the main supply closet? Or the back storage?” She double checked. She didn’t want to go to the store. She just wanted to stay here. Do her job, and at the end of her shift to go home and rest. But of course, on her last shift, they had some kind of stupid request.

“Yes. We’ve been rationing for hours, but we’re down to the last few bags. The ER is already packed and we can’t afford to run out completely.” her boss told her.

(Y/n) glanced toward the emergency department, where the controlled chaos of the hospital was at its peak. Nurses moved with precision, doctors barked orders, patients groaned in pain, and interns were having almost trouble to keep up.

She sighed, shifting her weight as she rubbed her aching lower back. “Okay, but can’t one of the interns go instead?” Her boss shook her head. “We need every set of hands here. You’re the only one who can step away for a bit.”

(Y/n) bit back another sigh, frustration creeping in. She was already exhausted, on her last shift before maternity leave, and just counting down the hours until she could go home.

But there was no room for refusal. If they really were that low on saline bags, patients would suffer. If she really was their last hope, she needed to do it. She hesitated, Buck’s voice already entering her mind, telling her she shouldn’t do it, they could find someone else. But eventually she nodded. “Fine. I’ll handle it.”

Her boss gave a quick thank you before rushing off, already being pulled into another emergency. (Y/n) went to the locker room to grab her car keys, mumbling to herself, telling herself this would be quick.

In and out.

(Y/n) pushed the door of the store open, a soft chime sounding as (Y/n) stepped into the local medical supply store that was five blocks from the hospital. Cool air-conditioning kissed her warm skin, a welcome relief. The faint scent of cleaning supplies and freshly stocked shelves lingered in the air.

She made her way through the front of the store, and locked her eyes on the guidance boards that were hanging above the aisles. She scanned the boards as she slowly walked through the main aisle.

Mobility care? Nope. That wasn’t what she was looking for. Orthopedic support? No. Emergency and first aid? Could be.. but no. Fluids and irrigation? Bingo. This was the aisle she was looking for.

(Y/n) entered the aisle, and started scanning the shelves for sterile saline bags. Her fingers absently rubbing the curve of her belly. “Sterile saline bags..” she whispered to herself as she searched with her eyes.

“Just grab them and go..” she told herself softly, already longing for the moment she could sit down and rest. It wasn’t nothing, she was carrying an entire person inside of her. And let’s just not start about the heat outside.

Her eyes locked onto the right shelf with the product she needed, but there were more sorts and kinds. What the hell was she supposed to choose? Which one did they use back at the hospital? She sighed as she placed her palm against her forehead. Her pregnancy brain wasn’t with her these days.

She groaned in annoyance as she tried to remember which ones they used. Fuck this. She’d just take both, and they’d have to figure out which one to use. She reached for the plastic packages, her fingers brushed the package as suddenly she got pulled back to reality.

“EVERYBODY GET DOWN! NOW!” a male voice yelled through the medical supply store she was in.

(Y/n) froze on the spot.

The deep roar of the man’s voice shook the air. People gasped at the sudden yell, the muffled whimpers of customers and the clatter of something falling off a shelf filled the sudden silence in the store.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, as she immediately lowered herself, crouching down to the floor. Slowly, she pressed her back against one of the shelves, and used one hand to hold the shelf, to try and keep in balance. Her chest rose, and fell in sharp as shallow breaths took over her rhythm as she listened to the intruder.

A gun. He had a gun. (Y/n) heard the click of the safety being clicked off. "Empty the register!" the man barked, his voice dripping with fury.

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her other free hand to her belly. Stay calm. Stay quiet. She told herself soundless as she rubbed small circles to try and soothe herself.

The cashier was barely more than a teenager, fumbling at the register, his hands shaking so badly that coins spilled onto the counter. "O-okay, please, just don’t shoot!" she said as she let out a small, terrified sob.

The guy holding the gun was getting impatient. He kept telling the girl behind the counter to “hurry the fuck up.” Clearly, It wasn’t moving quick enough for him, and he was showing it by shooting a bullet through the ceiling.

A gunshot ripped through the store, echoing like a crack of thunder.

(Y/n) held back a cry, her hand clutching the shelf for support as now her other hand moved towards her mouth. The man didn’t need to know that she was in the store. Because she knew that when the cops pulled up, he’d use her. She was fragile, vulnerable, pregnant.

Small pieces of the ceiling cracked and fell down. He had fired into the ceiling, but the message was clear. One wrong move, and the next shot wouldn’t be a warning.

There was a sudden silence in the room. That was interrupted by a buzzing sound.

The phone that was vibrating was hers. Her stomach dropped as fear was creeping in and she hurried to silence her phone. Panickedly she grabbed her phone and clicked the on/off button to make it stop. As quickly as she managed to silence the phone, she glanced at the name.

Buck.

The sound was deafening in the tense quiet of the store. (Y/n) didn’t think. She moved. She had to get out of this damn’ store. She had to hide. She had to do something.

Her body acted before her brain could catch up, her feet carrying her toward the back of the store, towards the employees-only door. If she could just get inside, just get somewhere safe… She reached the door, grabbing at the handle. But as she pushed the handle down, she realized it was locked.

Her breathing hitched as she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded. "Where do you think you're going?" a male voice asked. The voice was too close.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, as her breath was hitched in her throat. She was too scared to turn around, but she couldn’t just stand here, pretending like she didn’t hear anything. So she turned, pressing her back against the locked door as she directly faced the barrel of the gun.

She stared at the gun that was aimed directly at her. Her body locked up against the door, every instinct screaming at her to run, to fight… But she couldn’t. There was nowhere to go.

The robber tilted his head, his finger resting on the trigger. “You deaf or something?” he sneered. “I asked you a question.”

(Y/n) forced herself to breathe, to stay calm. Panic wouldn’t help her (or the baby) now. “I—I wasn’t going anywhere,” she said, stumbling over her words as she slowly lifted her hands just enough to show she wasn’t a threat. “I didn’t see anything. I—”

“Shut up.” He cut her off, making her flinch at the sudden harsh tone. He stepped closer, the barrel of the gun now just inches away from her chest. “Phone. Give it to me.” he ordered her, as he held out a flat hand and motioned with his fingers.

(Y/n) hesitated for a small second. Buck. If she gave it to him, Buck would keep calling, keep texting, trying to check in. But if she didn’t…

The man stepped forward, pressing the gun just slightly harder against her. She didn’t have a choice.

With trembling fingers, she reached into her scrub pocket and pulled out her phone, holding it out for him to take.

He snatched it from her hand, clicking his tongue as he glanced at the screen. A smirk curled his lips beneath his mask. “Evan Buckley, huh?” He waved the phone slightly. “Boyfriend?” (Y/n)’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t answer.

The man chuckled darkly. “Well, looks like he’s gonna have to wait.” He shoved the phone into his pocket, then jerked his gun toward the front of the store. “Move.” he ordered.

(Y/n) hesitated. He still had the gun dangerously close to her body. What if she made a wrong move? “I said move!” he said louder now, grabbing her upper arm and launching her towards the front of the store.

The sharpness of his voice and the sudden pull on her arm sent a jolt of adrenaline through her body, and she forced her legs to move. The walk toward the front of the store felt endless.

Her heart was slamming against her ribs, her pulse pounding so loud she could barely hear anything else. Her baby shifted inside her, a reminder of just how high the stakes really were. She couldn’t let this escalate. She couldn’t put her baby in danger. She had to survive.

As she stepped into the main area of the store, she saw the other hostages: three terrified customers and the cashier. Their eyes darted to her, their faces pale with fear.

The robber shoved her forward, making her glance over her shoulder. “Sit.” he ordered her. (Y/n) lowered herself carefully onto the cold tile floor, trying to keep her breathing steady. Every instinct in her screamed to protect the baby. But she had to try something.

The other hostages sat nearby, their eyes darting between her and the masked man pacing the front of the store. The cashier, a young woman no older than twenty, was visibly shaking, her breath coming in short gasps. She looked like she might pass out.

(Y/n) forced herself to breathe deeply. Stay calm. Keep him calm. Make no sudden movements. But most important of all: don’t do anything stupid.

The robber was muttering to himself, shoving stacks of cash into his bag with erratic movements. He was jittery and unstable.

Then, movement caught her eye. One of the customers, a man in his forties, was slowly reaching into his pocket. He fished out his phone. He was trying to call for help.

Her stomach twisted at the sight. She wanted to stop the man. But how would she do that without alarming the robber? The robber turned, spotting the movement. His expression snapped into fury. “HEY!” he yelled.

The man barely had time to react before the robber lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the gunman sounded agressive, shaking the man roughly. The customer stammered, his face draining of color.

(Y/n) could see it, the erratic breathing, the tightening grip on the trigger. He was going to shoot. Her body moved before she could think. “Hey, hey! Stop!” (Y/n) called out, her voice firm but measured. “You don’t have to do this.” she said.

The robber whipped his head toward her, his gun now aimed directly at her again. Her heart stopped. But she didn’t break eye contact. “Let him go,” she said, keeping her voice even. “Look, you have what you came for. You don’t need to hurt anyone.”

His hands twitched. For a moment, he seemed to consider it. Then he shoved the man back to the ground. (Y/n) exhaled, relief flooding through her. But it didn’t last long.

The robber turned back to her, stepping closer. His hands were shaking now, his breathing erratic. Too unstable. Too unpredictable.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” he muttered. “Think you can just talk me down?” he asked as he stood in front of her, looking down at her as she was sitting on the ice cold floor of the store. (Y/n) swallowed, her pulse hammering. “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.” she said as she placed her hand onto her stomach.

The gunman exhaled sharply, rubbing his free hand over his face. He was spiraling. He was losing control. And then, he looked at her stomach. His gaze flickered, realization dawning. “Shit,” he muttered. “You’re pregnant.” he realized.

(Y/n) didn’t respond. Wasn’t it obvious? Was he that focussed on anything else that he didn’t notice she was pregnant? But the slight stiffening of her posture gave her away.

The man cursed again, his grip tightening on the gun. “This is a goddamn mess,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” he added.

(Y/n) saw the moment he made his decision. She knew it before he even moved. He lifted the gun, and without thinking for a moment, he fired.

Pain exploded through her shoulder. She gasped, the force of the bullet knocking her backwards against the shelves. The pain was blinding, hot, suffocating. The four people around her screamed and cried. But all she could think about was the pain she felt.

She was fighting her vision that was starting to blur. She clutched her shoulder, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through her scrubs as she tried to put pressure onto the wound. Her breathing turned ragged, her head was starting to spin. No. No. Stay awake.

A soft, fluttering movement stirred inside her. Her jaw clenched as she forced herself to hold pressure against the wound, despite the pain.

Somewhere in the haze, she heard the distant wail of sirens. Help was coming.

______

The fire engine rumbled down the road, the smell of smoke still lingering in Buck’s gear as they made their way back to the station. The apartment fire had been brutal, but they’d managed to put it out with no casualties.

Still, Buck barely registered the usual post-call banter from the rest of the crew in the back of the truck. His focus was on his phone, which he had just pulled from his pocket.

A few minutes past her break time.

His thumb hovered over the screen. She always called during break. That was their routine, no matter how crazy their shifts were, they always made time. And if someone couldn’t make it, they would give each other a heads up.

Maybe she was just busy. That’s what she’d said earlier on the phone. The hospital was swamped. Still… she was pregnant. She needed to take that break. It was crucial.

He frowned at her contact for a moment, but decided to hit dial. The line rang once… twice… and then went to voicemail. Buck sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as the recorded message played in his ear. "Hey, it's me. Just checking in. Call me when you can, okay? Love you." He hung up and immediately shot off a text.

Buck: You okay? Just missed your break. Call me when you get a sec.

The worried crease between his brows didn't go unnoticed. "What's up with you?" Chimney asked from across the truck, giving Buck a knowing look. "You’ve got that ‘overthinking everything’ face on again." he added.

Buck huffed a small laugh but didn’t look up "It’s probably nothing." he said. Bobby glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Y/N okay?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so. She just—" Buck shook his head, staring at his phone screen. "She always calls on break. And she’s late." Hen shot him a sympathetic smile, "Hospitals get busy. Maybe she got held up." she tried to think of an explanation.

"Yeah," Buck muttered, trying to convince himself that was all it was. He was probably seeing things that weren’t there. The others let the conversation drop, but Buck couldn't shake the weird feeling in his gut.

“Station 118, respond to a silent alarm triggered at Medline essentials on 6th Street. LAPD en route, requesting fire and rescue response as a precaution.” The sound of a dispatch caller came through on the radio, making Buck’s ears perk up immediately.

A silent alarm. A possible robbery.

Bobby grabbed his radio. "Copy that, Dispatch. 118 en route." And with those words the sirens blared to life, Chimney glanced at Buck. "Fire and rescue? For a robbery?" Chimney asked.

"It’s protocol," Hen explained. "If there are hostages or injuries, PD calls us in to handle medical care while they clear the scene. Sometimes perps start fires as a distraction too."

Buck barely heard her. Medline essentials. His fingers tightened around his phone. Why did that sound familiar to him?

Eventually the fire engine rolled to a stop, lights flashing against the darkened windows of Medline essentials. The parking lot was swarming with LAPD officers, their weapons raised as SWAT moved in through the entrance. Buck could feel his pulse racing, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the adrenaline or something deeper.

Buck stood with the rest of 118, his jaw tight as he watched the tactical team disappear inside. His phone was still in his hand. No new messages. No calls. The uneasy feeling in his gut only grew.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket as he focussed on the scene in front of him, on the robber being dragged out in cuffs, screaming about how "it wasn’t supposed to go like this."

Bobby’s voice came over their radios “Alright, we’ve got the all-clear. Hen, Chimney, Eddie, you’re up first. See what we’ve got inside. The rest of you, wait for my signal.”

Buck exhaled sharply, flexing his fingers at his sides. He hated waiting. Especially on calls where he couldn’t help most of the time. Hen, Chim, and Eddie grabbed their gear and pushed inside. The crunch of the shattered glass filled Hen’s ears as she entered the scene.

Hen’s eyes scanned the scene. People were crying, a few clutching minor wounds, but her focus snapped to the one figure leaning against the shelves near the counter. The sight made Hen’s stomach drop. “Oh, my God.” she mumbled as she realized who it was.

(Y/n).

She was pale, blood soaked her light blue scrubs, one arm limp at her side as she was trying to keep pressure on the wound with her right arm. It wasn’t as much pressure as she had been applying earlier. But at least she was still awake. Barely.

Eddie’s eyes shot Hen’s way, and followed what she was looking at. “Shit,” Eddie muttered as he also realized who was on scene.

Hen crouched beside (Y/n), her fingers gently pressing against her wrist as she checked her pulse. It was weak and thready. Not good. Her skin was too pale, a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead. She was going into shock.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered. “Hen…” Her voice was hoarse and full of pain.

“Hey, (Y/n), stay with me,” Hen urged, her voice calm but firm. She tried to get (Y/n) to focus on her, but her eyes were starting to drift.

(Y/n) blinked slowly, her breathing coming out in shallow gasps. “Baby… kicked…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hen’s stomach twisted, she glanced at Eddie and Chimney, their faces mirroring her concern. “She’s crashing,” Hen muttered under her breath. “Chim! I need you over here now.”

Chimney was by her side in an instant. The moment he took one look at (Y/n), his face paled. “Shit.” Without hesitation, he knelt beside her and pressed his hands firmly against the wound, applying more pressure.“She’s lost too much blood. We need to move her now.” Hen said as she immediately grabbed her radio.

“Bobby, we have a problem.” she spoke into the radio. Followed by a short pause. Then Bobby’s voice came through, calm but firm. “What kind of problem, Hen?”

She glanced down at (Y/n), her light blue scrubs darkened with blood, her body slumping further against the shelf. Hen clenched her jaw. “I can’t tell you over the radio,” she said quietly. That was all Bobby needed to hear. “Copy. I’m coming in.”

Hen looked up at Eddie and Chimney, their expressions tense. They all knew what this meant, they needed a gurney now. But Buck was outside, and he couldn’t be the one to bring it in.

“Eddie,” Hen said sharply. “Go get the gurney.” she ordered him. Eddie’s brows furrowed at the request. “Hen-” he barely said her name as he got cut off by her. “Go. Now.” Her tone left no room for argument.

With a deep breath, Eddie gave one last glance at (Y/n) before rushing out of the store.

Buck’s brows furrowed as he watched Eddie haul the gurney toward the entrance of the store. Why Eddie? What was going on inside that store?

Why wouldn’t they just radio him to grab it? That’s how it usually went, he was the one who handled the gurney, the one who brought it inside. But this time, they had sent Eddie.

Something was off. It felt like they didn’t want Buck to be on scene.

His heart pounded harder against his ribs. “Eddie!” he called out his name, stepping forward. But Eddie ignored him, but he could clearly hear him. He didn’t even glance his way. Just kept pushing forward like a man on a mission.

Buck moved faster, closing the distance between them. “Hey, what the hell is going on?” His voice rose, frustration creeping in as Eddie continued to avoid him.

Nothing. No answer.

That was when Buck stepped directly in front of the gurney, blocking his path. Eddie let out a sharp breath, stopping just in time to avoid hitting him. “Buck, move.”

Buck’s jaw clenched. “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His blue eyes searched Eddie’s face, desperation creeping in. “What the hell is going on? Why’d they send you out instead of calling me?”

“No, Eddie. Talk to me.” His voice sharpened. “Why wouldn’t Hen radio for me? Who’s hurt?”

Eddie swallowed hard. His gaze flickered toward the store, just for a second. Eddie tightened his grip on the gurney’s handles. He was tense, trying to keep his expression neutral, but Buck knew him too well. Buck’s stomach twisted.

Realization slammed into him like a freight train. His breath hitched.

His voice came out quieter this time, almost a whisper. “Eddie… is it—?” he stumbled over his words. Eddie exhaled through his nose, looking down for a second before finally meeting Buck’s gaze. And that’s when Buck knew.

Eddie’s jaw tensed. “She’s losing too much blood.”

His hands shook as he took a step back, his breath coming in shorter gasps. “No.”

“No. No, Eddie.” Buck’s voice cracked, panic clawing at his chest. He turned toward the store entrance, his vision tunneling. Eddie reached out, grabbing Buck’s arm before he could move. “Buck-”

“She’s in there.” Buck yanked his arm free, his heart racing as he turned and bolted for the store’s entrance.

Hen and Chimney were still focused on (Y/n), trying to keep her stable. But her condition was rapidly deteriorating. Her color was draining from her face, her breathing shallow and erratic. Her body was going into shock.

Hen’s hands were shaking as she was now the one who applied pressure to the wound on her shoulder, but nothing was enough. “We need that gurney, now.” Hen snapped. “Chim, stay with her. I’ll-” But before Hen could finish, the door slammed open.

Buck.

His eyes locked onto (Y/n), and for a split second, everything else seemed to blur out of focus. He made to move toward her, but Bobby, who had just stepped into the store behind him, grabbed his arm.

“Buck! Wait!” Bobby shouted, holding him back with surprising force. “You can’t-” But Buck was too far gone. That was his girl inside. His child. He needed to be there.

“Let go of me!” Buck struggled against Bobby’s grip, his face contorted with panic. “I’m not waiting, Bobby! I need to help her!” Bobby shook his head, his expression hard. “You need to stay out of the way, Buck. We need to focus. Let them do their job.”

But Buck couldn’t hear him. All he could see was (Y/n), her pale face and limp body. She was slipping away.

And then, without warning, Hen’s voice cracked. “She’s seizing!”

Buck’s blood ran cold as he saw (Y/n)’s body convulse violently, her back arching as her limbs jerked uncontrollably. The sight of her in such distress sent waves of horror through him.

“(Y/n)!” Buck screamed, his voice raw with desperation. But her eyes remained closed. There was no response. This couldn’t be happening.

Bobby tried to hold Buck back, but it was useless. Buck’s heart was breaking as he watched her convulse on the floor. “Please, baby, stay with me… please,” he whispered under his breath, choking on his own panic.

Just as the medics worked frantically around her, Buck felt a suffocating weight in his chest. He couldn’t be there. He couldn’t reach her. His voice broke through the chaos again, louder, more desperate. “(Y/n)!”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

9-1-1 Masterlist | Next chapter >>

#911 #911 fox #imagine #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #911 fic

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lyjen · 4 months ago

Text

I'm Sorry | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) are bringing one of the hurt prisoners to the hospital, but end up being held hostage. After a stupid move from (Y/n), she get’s hurt, revealing something she didn’t know she had, until it’s too late.

Feel free to send in a request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section!

TW: Miscarriage & hostage situation

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A groan left (Y/n)’s lips as Eddie ripped open the curtains that were hiding the sunlight just a second ago. But the sunlight hit (Y/n)’s face as soon as they opened, making her groan at the painful feeling of the light on the inside of the room suddenly going from dark to light again.

(Y/n) grabbed the sheet with both her hands and threw it over her head, blocking the light with it. Eddie grabbed his watch from the nightstand and put it around his wrist. He had been here for a solid two minutes, hoping she’d sense his presence and at least grunt in acknowledgment.Then he let out a small laugh at the sight of (Y/n) covering her entire body underneath the sheet. “Alright, Sleeping Beauty, time to get up.”

“Leave me be, I’m so tired” she mumbled from underneath. Eddie rubbed a hand over his chin, at times like these, it was a reminder that she really was a Buckley. And she was definitely Buck’s twin sister. They had the same traits. But looking at her in this exact moment, felt like he was in Buck's loft again, telling him to get out of bed and out of the house after that fire truck incident.

Except, this time it was (Y/n), Eddie’s girlfriend, who didn’t have her leg crushed by a firetruck and was still recovering. This was just another day.

He had been here for a solid two minutes now, hoping she’d at least grunt in annoyance and realize that she had to get out of the bed. He paused for a moment and let out a sigh. Then he yanked the sheets off in one smooth motion, revealing (Y/n) sprawled out like a starfish, her face half-buried in the pillow.

(Y/n) made a sound that could only be described as a dying walrus. Without missing a beat, she reached out blindly, grabbed the edge of the blanket, and yanked it back over herself.

Another sigh left Eddie’s mouth. “You’re really gonna make me do this?” Eddie asked, his voice full of amused disbelief. She gave him a thumbs-up from beneath the covers. She had slept for thirty minutes this entire night, while her boyfriend got a full nightrest.

Eddie sighed. Then, without warning, he grabbed the blanket again, pulling it off with more force. (Y/n) curled up in a ball, trying to save some of the heat she had earned from the sheets and let out a dramatic groan. “Eddie, no.”

“Yes,” he countered. “We have a shift today, remember?” he said, letting the sheets fall down onto the ground.

“No.”

“Yes.”

(Y/n) peeked out from under her arm, her face half-squished against the pillow. “Tell Bobby I died in my sleep. I can’t come in today. It’s tragic.” she tried to convince him as she pressed her arm tighter before her eyes so it would keep the sunlight from hitting her eyes.

Eddie snorted as he walked towards his night stand and took his phone off the charger. “Pretty sure if you died, Buck would’ve called me first to make sure I didn’t have anything to do with it.” he answered, as he pushed the phone into his pocket.

She groaned louder and flopped onto her back, eyes barely open. “I only slept for thirty minutes.” she claimed, as she slowly tried to let her eyes adjust to the sunlight.

“And whose fault is that?” Eddie asked, hands on his hips.

“I don’t know, the moon? Society? The cruel hand of fate?” she answered, while she tried to open her eyes now.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t care. What I do care about is the fact that we have to leave in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

She let out another exhausted groan, making his expression soften just a little as he leaned over and gave her ankle a squeeze. “C’mon, babe. I know you’re exhausted, but we have to go.”

(Y/n) let out a long-suffering sigh but finally swung her legs off the bed and sat up. Her entire body protested the movement. It felt like she had been hit by a truck, maybe twice, then thrown in reverse for good measure.

Eddie, who was watching her struggle, smirked. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard.” he said, as he leaned against the doorframe with his right side.

She sent him a halfhearted glare. “I hope your pillow is cold on both sides forever.”

He just chuckled, pushed himself off the doorframe and turned on his heels to make his way towards the kitchen. “We’re leaving in nineteen minutes. Don’t fall back asleep in the bathroom.” he called out as he walked out of the bedroom.

She might’ve cursed him under her breath as he left, but she was too tired to follow through.

Dragging herself to the bathroom, she barely mustered the energy to look in the mirror. The moment she did, she groaned.

“Oh, great. I’m looking like a total corpse,” she muttered, inspecting the dark circles under her eyes. She turned on the sink, splashing cold water on her face in a weak attempt to look less like a reanimated zombie.

The next fifteen minutes were kind of a blur of getting dressed, brushing her teeth, and making herself somewhat presentable. She was still dead inside, but at least she wasn’t wearing pajamas anymore.

By the time she trudged into the kitchen, Eddie was already there, sipping his coffee. Without a word, he slid a to go cup filled with coffee across the counter toward her.

(Y/N) blinked at it. Then at him. Then back at the cup.

“This is a trap,” she mumbled and pointed at it. Eddie smirked. “Just drink it.”

Too tired to argue, she picked it up and took a sip, letting the warmth momentarily revive her soul. She was mid-sip when Eddie stepped closer and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She sighed, leaning into him for a second. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” she told Eddie.

“I know.”

Before she could respond, a voice called out from the hallway.

“Dad, (Y/n)! We need to go!” Christopher’s voice rang through the house, full of the energy that (Y/n) deeply craved.

Eddie glanced toward the hall, then back at her. “That’s our cue.”

(Y/N) groaned one last time but let him guide her toward the door, coffee in hand.

It was way too early for this.

______

“You got him?” (Y/n) asked as she slowly handed the wounded prisoner over to Eddie while she opened the back doors of the ambulance. (Y/n) got the gurney out and the both of them helped the unconscious man onto the gurney.

Eddie was putting on gloves, ready to access the man as (Y/n) placed the gurney into the railing and in the lock so it wouldn’t move as they’d drive. “You guys our escort?” Eddie asked as two men were standing at the back of the ambulance.

“Yes, sir. Let’s get moving” he said. (Y/n) hopped out the back and let one of the guards get in the vehicle as she closed the back doors and got behind the wheel.

Eddie was the paramedic of the two of them, sure (Y/n) knew some basics, but the victim needed someone who was more advanced.

The silence in the entire ambulance was interrupted by the radio as (Y/n) made a turn on the road ahead of her. “Ambulance one eighteen come in” the sound of their captain filled the space. “(Y/n), Eddie, come in” Bobby’s voice spoke again, why did he need an immediate answer?

(Y/n) reached her hand out for the radio, but as soon as she made that motion, the guard next to her moved. She glanced to her right, only to see the guard pointing the gun at her as he shook his head.

“(Y/n), Eddie if you can hear me return to the prison. Come-” A click sounded. The guard turned off the radio.

(Y/n)’s eyes wandered back to the road, as she tightened her fingers around the steering wheel, making her knuckles turn white. “Kill the lights and sirens” the guard in the passenger seat commanded.

With her eyes glued down to the road, she did what he asked. Making Eddie flinch at the suddenly turned off sirens. He was holding a small light in his right hand as he tried to see the pupil's response to the light. But the sirens getting turned off caught him off guard. What the hell was happening?

“What the hell?” he mumbled under his breath. He could feel eyes burning onto his skin, when he looked at the guard again: he was at gunpoint.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he let sink in what was happening. Was (Y/n) also being held at gunpoint as she was driving the ambulance? Was that the reason the sirens and lights were turned off?

“Pull over.” The guard in the passenger seat commanded as he pointed to a space big enough to stop on the side of the road. (Y/n) did what he asked, putting the vehicle in park as the guard told her to get out of the ambulance.

She could feel her heart beating in her throat as she watched Eddie, also being at gunpoint, walking to the back of the ambulance, waiting for what was next. (Y/n) slowly made her way towards her boyfriend, making sure she wasn’t making any sudden movements.

His eyes were locked onto (Y/n), making sure she was also being led the same direction. His eyes met hers, filled with anxiety.

(Y/n) felt a hand roughly pushing her in her back towards Eddie, “Hey!-” Eddie moved slightly, but the second he made the small move towards (Y/n), the other guard told him to get back as he threatened him with his gun. She received another push in her back, purely to mess with Eddie’s mind.

When she was finally standing next to Eddie, the guard who was in the back earlier with Eddie shrugged off his jacket. “Check ‘em” he commanded his partner, who nodded at his words.

Eddie could sense the anxiety this moment was giving (Y/n). He hated that he couldn’t reach out to her, give her any sign of comfort, it would only give the two prisoners more stuff to work with if they knew whatever was going on between the two of them.

As Eddie and (Y/n) stand in line, waiting their turn to be checked, Eddie keeps his expression neutral, though his fists clench slightly at his sides. (Y/n) stands still, keeping her expression unreadable as the so-called "guard" steps in front of her. Eddie watches from just a few feet away, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dig into his palms. He can't do anything, that would only bring the two of them more problems.

The guard's eyes drag over (Y/n), slow and deliberate. A smirk tugs at his lips. He was clearly enjoying this.

"Well, what do we have here?" he mutters, stepping closer. His hands pat her down, lingering longer than necessary. He checks her pockets, brushing against her unnecessarily as he does. "Didn’t expect to find someone like you in all this mess. You scared, sweetheart?"

(Y/n) doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Al though she could feel her heart beating faster by every finger he laid on her body. She refuses to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she meets his gaze with cool indifference, as if he’s nothing.

Her silence seems to annoy him. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "Nothing to say? Playing tough, huh? I like that." he said as he grabbed her radio and tossed it to the side of the road.

Eddie’s jaw tightens. His entire body is rigid, his heart pounding. He forces himself to stay still, but every muscle screams at him to step in, to stop this.

The guard huffs when (Y/n) doesn’t respond and finally moves away, rolling his eyes. "No fun," he mutters, stepping toward Eddie.

Eddie barely holds himself back as the guy pats him down, but his focus stays on (Y/n). When their eyes meet, she gives him the smallest nod. I’m fine.

For now.

Eddie exhales slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. But deep down, his anger is simmering. If they make it out of this, he’s not forgetting what just happened. And if he gets the chance? That guard is going to regret ever laying a hand on her.

“Okay, so you broke out. What now?” he asked, as he looked at the other guard who was still pointing the gun towards the two of them. He just looked at Eddie like he was a ghost. “Patient in there is currently fighting for every breath. That your handiwork?” he continued as he motioned his head towards him, as the other guy tossed Eddie's radio to the side of the road and fished out his wallet and phone from his pocket.

Then he went back to (Y/n) to get out her phone and wallet too. But this time without any comments or looks. When he got both of their personal stuff, he waved them around as if it was a prize he had just won at a funfair, and he walked back to the ambulance.

No comment, the both of them weren’t planning on telling them what they were about to do. (Y/n) leaned a little closer to Eddie, “So, what do we do?” she asked him softly as the both of them watched the “guards” going through their personal items, they were watching them like a hawk. “Don’t know yet.” Eddie answered. Eddie and (Y/n) exchange a tense look, their voices hushed.

“Maybe they just want the ambulance?” (Y/n) mumbled. Eddie shakes his head. “Why would they search us if they’re just gonna leave us behind? There’s two of us, there’s two of them. There’s two-” Eddie frowned as his mind was working.

“Cute kid,” the guard interrupts, holding up a picture of Christopher from Eddie’s wallet. The guard smirks. “Yours?”

Eddie’s jaw tightens, his entire body stiffening. The guard flips through Eddie’s ID, his smirk deepening. “I’m guessing he lives with you at 4995 South Bedford Street?”

A cold dread settles in Eddie’s chest. They know where Christopher is. His mind races, calculating, planning. He needs to get out of here. Fast. But before he can react, (Y/n) moves.

“Don’t you dare-” she snaps, taking a step forward, her protective instincts overriding all logic. She doesn’t even realize how close she’s gotten until it’s too late.

The guard reacts instantly, his face twisting in amusement as he swings his gun hard. The butt of the weapon slams into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs.

(Y/n) gasps, a sharp, choked sound of pain ripping from her throat. Her hands fly to her abdomen as she doubles over, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.

“(Y/n)!” Eddie called out her name, trying to step forward, but the second guard shoves him back, raising his gun in warning.

(Y/n) struggles to straighten, her breath shaky, pain radiating deep in her stomach. Something about it feels wrong, but she pushes it aside, swallowing hard. Now is not the time.

The guard who hit her chuckles. “Damn, you’re a feisty one,” he mutters, shaking his head as if she amuses him.

Eddie’s hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with rage. His first instinct is to fight, but he knows he can’t at least not yet. Not while they’re still outnumbered, still vulnerable and at gunpoint.

His eyes flick to (Y/n), and she meets his gaze. There’s pain there, something unreadable behind it, but she doesn’t say a word.

“Okay, so now that we’re all on the same page, here’s what’s gonna happen next.” the other guard said.

Eddie and (Y/n) stay silent, but tension crackles in the air. (Y/n) is still gripping her stomach, the dull ache spreading, but she forces herself to stay upright, to not show weakness. Eddie’s eyes flick to her, concern flashing in them for half a second before he masks it.

The guard gestures toward the ambulance. “One of us is gonna drive. The other is gonna keep you two company in the back. And before either of you get any bright ideas…” he lifts his gun, aiming it right at Eddie’s chest, “Just remember what I’ve got right here. And that I won’t hesitate to use it.”

Eddie grits his teeth, but he doesn’t react otherwise.

The second guard, the one who hit (Y/n), chuckles and slaps a hand against the side of the ambulance. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

The first guard motioned with his head and gun toward the vehicle, silently ordering them inside. Eddie and (Y/n) exchange a quick glance before reluctantly climbing into the back of the ambulance. The interior smells like disinfectant and rubber, the usual controlled chaos of a paramedic rig. But right now, it feels like a cage.

The engine rumbles to life, the ambulance lurching forward as the guard takes the wheel. Eddie and (Y/n) are stuck in the back with the other one, still being held at gunpoint.

The guard smirks, tapping his gun against Eddie’s thigh as he watches the both of them. “Alright, firefighter. You’re gonna cuff your girl to something. Can’t have both of you moving around, now can we?” He tosses a zip tie towards Eddie.

Eddie catches it but doesn’t move right away. His mind is working, calculating. Just then, a gurgling sound fills the space, followed by a choking, wet cough. The patient strapped to the gurney, the one they had been transporting before all this started, starts choking on his own blood.

Eddie’s attention snaps to him instantly. Damn it. “We need to suction him, now,” Eddie says urgently, turning to the guard. “I need her to assist me, to hand me the tools, and hold things in place. I can’t do it alone.”

The guard tilts his head, considering for a moment before shrugging. “She can do it with one hand.” Eddie clenches his jaw, as he looks at the guard. “That’s not-”

When Eddie looks back at his girl, (Y/n) subtly shakes her head, a silent warning. Just do it.

Eddie hesitates, his frustration clear, but he finally nods and fastens the zip tie around (Y/n)’s wrist, securing her to the rail beside her. His grip lingers for a second, his fingers brushing against hers. Sending her a silent message. I’m sorry.

She gives him a small nod, biting down the pain still radiating in her stomach. She could pull through.

Eddie wastes no more time, immediately reaching for the suction equipment. “(Y/n), hand me the tubing,” he instructs.

Despite only having one free hand, (Y/n) moves fast, grabbing the tubing and passing it to Eddie while he preps the machine. The patient’s breathing is ragged, and time is running out.

Eddie works quickly, carefully suctioning the blood from the man’s airway. (Y/n) assists however she can, steadying things despite the restriction.

The guard watches with amusement. “Look at that,” he muses. “You two make a great team.”

Neither of them responds.

(Y/n) focuses on the task at hand, ignoring the persistent ache in her stomach. But something feels off, the pain is getting sharper, deeper. She pushes through it, keeping her face neutral.

Eddie glances at her briefly, noticing the way she stiffens every so often. He doesn’t have time to ask, he can’t risk drawing attention to it, but worry lingers in the back of his mind.

“Just make sure he doesn’t die in here.” the guard said.

“Suddenly you care about the guy you almost beat to death?” (Y/n) practically shot back at him, while Eddie put the suction away and used the laryngoscope.

“Hey, if I wanted this guy dead, he’d be dead. I kept him alive. Now you do the same.” he answered as he switched pointing the gun at (Y/n) and back at Eddie. (Y/n) just stared into the space, trying to focus on something else but the pain in her stomach and the fact that they were still being held at gunpoint, while she waited for instructions from Eddie.

“(Y/n) hand me the bougie, long blue tube in the cabinet.”

“Almost there, Mitch.” The guy behind the wheel said as (Y/n) handed Eddie the bougie. Eddie bent over as he tubed the victim, giving (Y/n) a clear view of the front. She read the sign. Emergency.

What the hell were they planning on doing?

The ambulance screeches to a stop outside the hospital, the red and white lights flashing against the darkened sky.

Mitchell shifts in his seat, tapping the barrel of his gun against his knee as he looks toward Dom who opens the backdoors of the ambulance. “Alright,” he says casually, as if they weren’t in the middle of a hostage situation. “You take the victim inside… and take pretty boy with you.” He jerks his chin toward Eddie.

Eddie barely reacts to the nickname, his focus sharp as Mitchell continues. “I’ll stay here with tough girl.” His eyes flick to (Y/n), amusement dancing behind them.

Eddie immediately stiffens. (Y/n) staying in the ambulance with Mitchell? That shit was not happening.

“No,” Eddie speaks up before he can think better of it. “She should go instead. She’s already helping with the patient, she should be the one to roll him inside.” His voice is firm, pushing just enough logic into his argument to make it sound reasonable. “I’ll stay.”

Eddie needed (Y/n) out of the ambulance, never in a million years that he’d leave her behind with this psycho, freak, killer. Not that the other guy was much better, but Eddie just knew from the minute the two of them didn’t respond to Bobby’s messages, some alarm bells went off.

Mitchell raises a brow, smirking like he’s just heard the most interesting thing all day. “Look at that,” he remarks. “You’re worried about her.”

Neither Eddie nor (Y/n) says anything, but their silence speaks volumes.

Mitchell chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “See, I knew you two weren’t just co-workers.” He leans forward slightly, his tone turning venomous. “You go,” he tells (Y/n), voice low and sharp. “Or I’ll shoot you.” he threatens her.

He lets the words sink in for a second before adding, “Or better—I’ll shoot him.” His gun tilts toward Eddie. “And then I’ll go find his kid and put a bullet in him too.”

(Y/n)’s body locks up, her breath catching. Eddie’s entire body tenses, but his expression stays controlled. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Except for the subtle way his eyes meet (Y/n)’s. A silent message.

It’s okay.

She doesn’t want to leave him. Every part of her is screaming to stay. But Eddie gives her the slightest nod, telling her to leave. Go. I can take care of it.

Finally, (Y/n) exhales shakily, forcing herself to move. Mitchell smirks. “Good girl.”

(Y/n) clenches her jaw as Dom steps forward, ready to guide her and the victim inside. But there’s still one problem, she’s still tied up.

“Zip tie,” she says flatly, holding up her bound wrist.

Dom rolls his eyes but pulls out a knife, slicing through the plastic material. The second her hand is free, she flexes her fingers, rubbing the sore skin with her other hand, where the zip tie had been too tight.

Eddie watches as she takes over the breathing bag from him, and helps get the gurney out of the ambulance. The second she steps out of the ambulance with her hand squeezing the breathing bag, when her feet connect with the asphalt, it feels wrong.

Like she’s walking away from something she shouldn’t. But she doesn’t look back. Because if she does, she’s afraid she won’t be able to leave him behind.

With the pain still rushing in her stomach, she guided the gurney towards the entrance with her left hand. “Nice and steady. Just like you’ve done it a thousand times before.” Dom said as (Y/n) keeps squeezing the yellow breathing balloon with her right hand.

The walk down towards the emergency entrance felt like minutes, even though it’s just a few feet.

“Okay, where do we go?” Dom asked as the sliding doors opened and they walked through the emergency entrance of first presbyterian hospital. “Right this way.” she said as she motioned her head towards the other set of doors.

(Y/n) pushes the stretcher forward, her feet moving on autopilot as she and Dom enter the next set of doors. The room is terrifyingly silent. (Y/n)’s eyes were scanning the area. No nurses rushing around, no patients waiting. It’s empty. “Where the hell is everyone?” Dom asked.

Something isn’t right.

Before she can react, there’s a sudden burst of movement shadows coming from the corners, hands grabbing at her and Dom.

“Hey!-” (Y/n) barely gets the word out before she’s shoved to the ground. The impact sends a shock wave of pain through her abdomen. She grits her teeth, but the sharp pain in her stomach makes her gasp as she squeezed her eyes closed at the pain.

Dom is tackled beside her, cursing as he struggles.

“Wait, stop!” (Y/n) tries to speak, but a strong arm presses her down. She’s choking on her words “I’m a firefighter- (Y/n) Buckley one eighteen-” She fights against the grip, her breathing uneven, panic creeping in as her face was pressed against the floor and she felt someone’s knee pushing against her spine.

“Shut up,” an unknown voice said, but then, a familiar voice cut through the chaos, but the pain in her abdomen made it hard to think. Her focus was constantly being drawn to her back, arms and stomach. “Hold on.”

Athena.

(Y/n) hears the click of boots, then the tension in the room shifts. Athena her eyes were scanning the scene until they landed on (Y/n). Her brows shoot up in surprise. “(Y/n)?”

The hands who were holding (Y/n) down hesitated, she felt the grip loosen, but not enough for her to be free. Athena narrows her eyes at the officers pinning her. “This one is okay. She’s good. Let her up.”

The weight lifts off her, and (Y/n) gasps in relief. She pushes herself up slowly as the hands who were holding her into place help her up and let her go. Her hands were instantly grabbing her stomach as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Sorry about that.” one of the officers mutters. “Didn’t know.” (Y/n) shakes her head, brushing it off, but the moment she shifts, a wave of dizziness washes over her, trying to find her balance again and steady herself.

Athena notices immediately. “Hey, are you okay?” she asks, placing her hand onto her shoulder. (Y/n) blinks, as she tries to get rid of the sudden wave of dizziness “Yeah, I just-” she stops mid-sentence.

Her stomach twists, a deep, aching pain roaring through her lower abdomen. It was worse than before, and it was getting worse with every stab of pain. Something’s wrong.

She sways slightly, her face paling. Her breaths grow shallow, and a cold sweat breaks out on her skin. A deep cramp wracks through her, almost making her knees buckle.

Athena takes a step closer, concern written on her face, as she lets go of her shoulder. “(Y/n)?” she called out her name, but she kept on looking towards the floor beneath her.

(Y/n) swallows hard, her hands pressing against her stomach. “I don’t… I don’t feel right.” she stumbled.

Athena catches the movement, her sharp eyes narrowing. She steps forward, her voice urgent now. “(Y/n), talk to me.”

(Y/n) swallows hard. The discomfort is worsening, and something feels off. She shifts her stance and that’s when she notices it. A strange, damp sensation.

Her gear is heavy, layered, built to withstand the worst conditions so at first, she doesn’t process it. But as she moves again, she feels it more clearly now. Wetness. Spreading.

Her breath hitches. She glances down at herself, but with her turnout pants on, there’s nothing visible. Her mind races. It can’t be sweat. It’s too low on her body.

Not water. They hadn’t been near any. And she definitely couldn’t be on her period.

Another wave of pain hit her stomach. She shifts again, subtly pressing her legs together, and that’s when she knows. Her throat tightens. “Athena,” she says quietly, almost uncertain.

Athena hears the change in her voice immediately. “What is it?” she asks. “Something’s wrong…” (Y/n) hesitates, swallowing against the growing lump in her throat. “I think- no, I know I’m bleeding. It’s not normal, it’s—it's bad.”

Athena’s expression shifts in an instant. She doesn’t waste a second, her voice sharp as she calls out into the ER. “I need a doctor, now!”

The urgency in her tone sends a jolt of fear through (Y/n). She’s been injured on the job before, but this—this is different. This isn’t a cut or a broken bone.

Something is happening inside her. Something she can’t control. And as the pain shoots through her body again, her knees nearly buckle, her breath coming faster. But as the room starts spinning, one terrifying thought grips her.

She barely notices the sound of rushed footsteps before hands are on her. A firm grip steadies her just as her knees threaten to give out.

“Got you. Easy now,” a voice says.

She blinks sluggishly, catching glimpses of blue scrubs, a nurse, maybe two. A doctor rushes in behind them, urgency in his steps.

“Let’s get her on a gurney,” someone says.

(Y/n) shakes her head weakly. “No, no, I’m fine,” she insists. She was not fine. But even through the haze clouding her mind, one thought cuts through everything else.

Eddie.

He’s still out there with that psycho. She tries to push herself upright. “Wait, Eddie- ”she gasps. A hand presses against her shoulder, gently but firmly stopping her. “You need to lie down.” another female voice said, probably a nurse.

But she shakes her head again, but the movement makes the nausea worse. “Eddie’s still- he’s still in the ambulance-” she cried as tears were breaking through the barriers. “Right now, we need to take care of you.” the doctor said.

(Y/n) doesn’t want to listen. Doesn’t want to stop fighting. But her body betrays her. The pain was there again, sharper this time, enough to make her suck in a breath. Her fingers clutch weakly at the front of her turnout coat, her knuckles turning white.

“(Y/n),” Athena’s voice is there again, steady but firm. “Let them help you.” she told her. (Y/n) exhales shakily. Her body feels heavy, the exhaustion creeping into her limbs. This time, she doesn’t fight when they ease her onto the gurney.

She doesn’t fight when her vision goes blurry again, darkness creeping at the edges.

Eddie strides through the hospital lobby, his eyes scanning the area, his heart racing. Nolan has been arrested. The situation was still a mess, but for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t looking over his shoulder. He was looking for her.

He sees Athena a few paces away, talking with one of the officers that were on scene and his breath catches. “Athena!” He called out her name as he jogs up to her. “Have you seen (Y/n)? I- I need to see her. Is she okay?” he started rambling.

Athena doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she gives him a look, one that Eddie can’t read. She takes a deep breath. “Let’s go for a little walk,” she says, motioning at him to follow her.

Confusion was written all over Eddie’s face. Why wouldn’t she just tell him? Why the mysterious response? He followed Athena as she walked down the hall of the ER, deeper into the hospital. “Athena, what’s going on? Where is she? Just tell me what happened.” he said as he tried to get her attention, but she was focussed on the route they were going.

Athena paused in her tracks, her gaze softening as she looked at him for a moment, as if she was searching for the right words. Eddie stands there, his anxiety climbing higher.

Finally, Athena speaks, her voice quiet but serious. “One second, she was standing, just like any other person. The next thing I know, she almost collapsed right in front of me.” she told him.

His breath stalls, caught somewhere deep inside. “What? What happened?”

Athena hesitates, her eyes filled with concern. “She was bleeding, Eddie. It wasn’t just a little. She’s already out of surgery.” she updates him. Eddie’s mind is racing, doing the math in his head. The words don’t seem to register at first. “What? Surgery? How long was I in that ambulance? How long did it take me to get out?”

“Long enough,” Athena says, her voice thick with emotion. “She didn’t know she was pregnant, Eddie.” she continued. Eddie’s world starts to spin again. He blinks hard, his chest tightening. Surgery? Bleeding? Pregnant? He was still processing, still trying to piece it all together, when Athena leads him down a hallway, his pace quickening with every step.

And then he sees her.

She’s lying in a hospital bed, pale, her eyes locked on the white ceiling, still hooked up to an IV. Her face is lined with exhaustion and pain, but she’s breathing. She’s alive.

But the sight of her was so fragile, so still, nearly brings Eddie to his knees.

He steps into the room, his heart pounding, but it feels like everything has gone quiet. He approaches her slowly, unsure, his feet heavy with each step. Without thinking, takes her hand in his. It’s warm, but there’s a slight tremble in her fingers. (Y/n) twitch at the touch, her eyelids fluttering open. Her voice is barely a whisper. “Eddie...?”

His heart breaks hearing the way she says his name, weak and fragile.

“I’m here,” Eddie says, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, cariña.” He squeezes her hand, trying to steady himself, his eyes blurring with tears. (Y/n) blinks up at him, and the pain in her eyes is like a punch to his chest. She looks so fragile, so vulnerable.

“I... I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice trembling at the words. “I should’ve known I was pregnant. I shouldn’t have reacted to those two psycho’s, holding that picture of Chris. If I hadn’t- maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

Eddie leans forward, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t say that. There’s no way you could’ve known.” he said. It broke him that she said those words.

She swallows, her face was filled with guilt, her hand clutching his hand even tighter. “I shouldn’t have been so... so careless. Now—now look at me. Look what happened.”

Eddie shakes his head determined. “No, (Y/n). This is not your fault. You were just trying to protect Chris. None of this is on you.” He leans closer, his forehead resting against hers for a moment. “I’m just glad you’re here. That you’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.” he tries to talk her out of it.

(Y/n) blinks, the tears welling up in her eyes. “I just keep on thinking.. What if they shot me instead of hit me?”

Eddie's eyes widen, the air feeling suddenly heavy between them. He looks at her, his expression flooded with pain and disbelief. “No, no,” he says, his voice firm but filled with vulnerability. “Please. Don’t do that. You can’t think like that, (Y/n). Don’t—” He pauses, trying to find the right words, the ones that can make her feel safe again, even if his own heart is splintering.

“You’re gonna be okay, alright? And I’m gonna be here with you. Every step of the way.” He said as he silenced her gently, by pressing a finger to her lips.

Her lips tremble as a tear slips down her cheek, and Eddie wipes it away, his own emotions coming forward now. “I’m sorry, Eddie...” she cried.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Eddie murmurs, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m just... so relieved you’re here. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

She nods weakly, the exhaustion in her eyes still visible, but there’s a sense of comfort in the way Eddie holds her hand. “I love you,” she whispers softly, almost as if she’s afraid to say it out loud.

Eddie placed his other free hand onto her cheek, cupping it as he let his thumb brush the tears that had fallen, away. He let his forehead press against hers, “I love you, too. Always.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

9-1-1 Masterlist

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddiediaz

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lyjen · 5 months ago

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Stay, stay, stay | Evan "Buck" Buckley

Summary: When Buck gets assigned to get up the ladder and put a fire out during a rain and thunderstorm, he gets struck by lightning. He’s walking around in a coma dream and has to find his way out of it to get back to his fiancée (Y/n).

Request: @shauna-carsley

<<< 9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

(Y/n) swung the towel over her shoulder as she turned around and made her way to the shelf to get some herbs.

Buck, on the other hand, placed his foot into the last step of the staircase as he scanned the environment. When he saw his fiancée cooking in the open kitchen, he smiled and made his way over.

“So.. did I hear you right earlier or are you actually about to serve the team your so-called ‘experimental pasta bake of doom’ for dinner?” he asked as his smile morphed into a playful grin on his face.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms as he waited for her to answer. (Y/n) chuckled and threw him a side-eye as she stood on her toes to reach the herbs she needed. When she caught the herbs she closed the cabinet and turned back around to the stove.

“First of all, it’s not the ‘pasta bake of doom.’ It's just pasta with a little creative touch. Second, aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the truck or something instead of bugging the chef?” she said as she shook the little container to add it to the pot.

Buck shrugged his shoulders as he moved to the kitchen island where the stove was, and (Y/n) was working on her dish. “I finished, so now I’m on ‘supervision duty.” He answered her question. “You know, just making sure you don’t set the firehouse on fire. Again” he continued as he placed his right hand on the counter and tried to get her to look at him.

She grabbed the wooden spoon that was in the pot and started to stir. “That was one time! And it wasn’t even my fault- the oven malfunctioned.” She told him as she felt the eyes burning into her skin even more.

But before Buck could even come back with an answer, Chimney passed by with a smirk on his face. “Pretty sure it was malfunctioning because someone put too much cheese on their lasagna.” He said as he kept on moving.

Buck his eyes grew wide at the reaction, he pointed his finger out at Chimney. “See? It’s not just me who remembers.” Buck said as he turned back towards (Y/n).

(Y/n) stopped stirring as she gave Chimney a look that said really? She glared at both of them. “You two better shut up or I’ll accidentally forget to make enough for either of you.”

In the distance a small laugh came from the dining table where Eddie was sitting, his phone was in his hand but his eyes were locked on the conversation between the two. “Really brave, Buck. You keep poking at the person in charge of our food today. Bold strategy.” Eddie chimed in.

(Y/n) let out a small sigh as Buck didn’t drop the conversation, she tapped the remaining sauce off the spoon, back into the pot. Maybe she wasn’t the best chef, and maybe she did almost burn this place down. But at least she was trying? That must’ve meant something, right?

Buck didn’t even bother to react to Eddie’s comment as the grin on his face grew wider. “I’m just saying, if this pasta bake ends up being a total disaster, the entire firehouse is going to blame me for not stopping it.”

She tapped the spoon one last time on the brim of the pot as she pointed the wooden spoon at him. “You should be blamed- for being annoying, not helpful.” she said as she let the spoon move in between them, almost letting it look like a threat.

A small grin appeared on her face as she locked eyes with Buck, he was just teasing her. They both went silent for a moment as they just looked at each other. Until a voice interrupted the moment. “What’s going on here?”

Bobby walked in with a clipboard in his hands and one eyebrow raised at the sudden silence. “Nothing, Buck was just on his way to leave the kitchen. He’s officially banned from the kitchen, he’s already on his fifth snarky comment and dinner isn’t even ready yet.” she said as she stood across Buck, switching looks between Bobby and her soon to be husband.

Buck glanced over his shoulder as he held up his hand in defense. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking! Someone’s got to make sure this meal doesn’t turn into a second alarm.” he said as he looked at Bobby.

And then a familiar sound roared through the entire firehouse, but it wasn't the fire alarm Buck was talking about.

“Engine 118, truck 118, ambulance 118, structure fire, MacArthur Park Apartments“ The alarm sounded through the house.

“Okay, one eighteen let’s go!” Bobby said as all the people on the loft dropped what they were doing and stood up to make their way towards the rigs.

Everyone except for (Y/n).

She was actually on light duty because during her morning run a few days ago, she twisted her ankle.

She didn’t even know how it happened. It just.. happened. She tried to walk it off, but when she returned home and Buck saw her stumbling while entering the house, he sighed. She always had been kind of clumsy.

Anyways, walking was still difficult, she could walk but every step hurted. And since it would only slow down the team more than actually help, Bobby had decided that it was best for her and the team to put her on light duty.

So here she was, trying to make dinner. While the alarm zoomed through the house. (Y/n) watched her friends and colleagues leave the loft, making their way towards the rigs as Buck took another second to look at his fiancée. Buck scanned the scene, he knew no one was waiting for the two of them to be close.. especially on shift.

But no one except the two of them were on the loft right now. “See you in a bit” Buck said as (Y/n) had already continued to stir the sauce, facing the stove. He pressed his warm lips quickly against her cheek. “Be careful” she told him as he was already making his way towards the stairs. “Oh and don’t do anything stupid!” she added, sounding a little louder now.

Buck turned around as he continued walking backwards, that same grin as before was written all over his face. “Have you met me?” he said, his grin turning into a small smile as he sent her a fast wink and turned back around speeding down the stairs.

She didn’t know how long this call was going to take. It was a structure fire, it could take an hour, or it could take four hours, or even six. She decided to just try and finish the dish, so she could reheat it when her team came back from the call.

Buck watched the rain splatter against the windows of the rig as they were making their way towards the structure fire. It was silence on the rig, as everyone was trying to get into focus. The only thing sounding through their headphones was the thunder roaring over Los Angeles.

The truck pulled to a stop, not even a second later Buck and the rest of the team were stepping out of the rigs. Buck stepped out of the vehicle, feeling the puddle with water splash against his boots.

“Okay, Hendrix, Meyers, Perez!” Bobby’s voice sounded over the scene, trying to be louder than the rain that was coming down like the gods were mad. The team followed Bobby as he started shouting orders to specific people. “Start evacuating the building!” he continued as he pointed to the building that was on fire with his hand.

“Chimney, Buck, Eddie.” Bobby pointed at the right people, “You guys are on ladder duty.” He added as the three of them nodded at his words. “I want you to get up to that window and hit it. Let’s go!” the captain continued as he pointed his index finger to the right window. “Copy that cap!”

Not even three minutes later, Eddie was already turning and extending the aerial to the assigned window. With a ladder belt secured around his waist, Buck made his way back to the top of the truck where Chimney was waiting to go up the ladder. The tip of the hose set was hanging over his shoulder as he watched Eddie extend the aerial.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? I got this.” Chimney said as he saw Buck climbing on top of the truck with the ladder belt secured around his waist. “No way, you got the last one.” Buck answered as a soft grunt fell from his mouth and made his way to the start of the ladder.

Chim squinted his eyes at the rain that was pouring and hitting his face. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track,” he said. Making Buck grin “Come on, Chim, it’s me. I’m always keeping track.” Buck said with enthusiasm in his voice.

These were the things he loved doing on the job.

Eddie grinned at the conversation, grabbing the hook and securing Buck to the line, so if something went wrong he wouldn’t fall to his death.

“Alright, cowboy, go get ‘em.” Eddie said, as Buck accepted the line Chimney was holding out to him. “Alright” he said, as he carefully made his way up the aerial.

In his left hand he held the hose line and he used his right hand to climb up the ladder. The mix of people’s voices and sirens were filling his eardrums as he finally reached the top of the ladder.

With his heart beating in his chest, he turned the hose line on and started to aim for the window Bobby had mentioned earlier.

Where Buck could hear voices from below the ladder earlier, that sound faded away as some electrical buzz took over the scene. It almost sounded like an electricity pole was damaged, but it didn’t come from below him. Whatever he was hearing was from above.

“The hell is that?” he asked himself. Buck looked above him, fully facing the rain that was still pouring down. But he couldn’t find a source, so he just continued doing his job. It didn’t take five seconds, or there was a flash of white covering Buck’s entire vision.

The lightning hit his body. And he felt it, everywhere.

Bobby’s eyes were locked onto the person who was on top of that ladder. But his heart dropped the second he saw what was happening right in front of his eyes. He could hear a loud scream and then Buck’s body tumbled over the edge of the ladder, his body now hanging on to the line that was secured to the ladder belt he was wearing.

Eddie fell onto the ground after the bolt had struck just near him. He grunted at the pain in his back when it had met the ground. He rolled to his side, as he got onto his knees and hands to reach for his helmet that had prevented him from hitting his head on the asphalt.

He pressed one hand onto the ground as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto two legs. He pressed his helmet back onto his head as was on his way to climb back onto the truck, not really knowing what had happened. But the moment he was climbing the ladder to get on top of the truck, towards the control panel of the aerial, he looked to his right.

His best friend was floating in the air, lifeless.

His eyes widened at the sight, “Buck!” he screamed out. Without thinking, Eddie hurried up the ladder. The steps were wet, making him almost slip now and then, but he didn’t care. He needed to help his teammate, his colleague.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Captain Nash, 118. We have a firefighter down at the MacArthur Park Apartment fire. Need additional task force and rescue immediately.” Bobby’s voice sounded over the radio as Eddie called out for his best friend, hoping for some kind of reaction.

It was horrible, seeing him hanging like that.

In the meanwhile when Eddie had finally reached the top of the ladder, he tried to pull him up. But pulling up someone who was unconscious was impossible. “Can you hear me? Buck!” he called out, but calling out his name was more for a cry for help than to get him to wake up. The water from the hose line was still spraying down, Eddie didn’t even bother to turn it off. He only had one goal, and that was trying to get Buck down to an ambulance.

If he couldn’t pull Buck up, they had to lower him down. Chimney had taken place down the ladder, ready to help. “We need more slack!” Eddie called out on the top of his lungs. “More slack coming up!” Chimney yelled back. Eddie groaned as he gently let the rope slide through his fingers, and watched Buck’s body being lowered down to the ground where Bobby was. He was commanding Hen to get the ambulance as close as possible. They couldn’t waste a second.

Buck’s body was almost down at the ground again. Bobby grabbed his feet and turned him so he could be laid down onto the gurney easily. “Come here kid” Bobby’s voice was filled with worry. He put his arm on his back, “I got him, I got him!” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was telling the team, or if he was soothing himself with those words.

“Okay bring that gurney over here, let’s go!” Bobby commanded his paramedics.

“I need the lifepak!” Chimney shouted through Bobby’s orders to hurry up. They needed to do something, he was up there for way too long. The entire team was helping Buck onto the gurney which was being flooded with water the second it came out of the ambulance.

“Let’s get the lifepak on!” Chimney continued as they disconnected Buck from the line he was still attached to. Hen gently took off Buck’s helmet, as they opened his turnout coat. and cut through his uniform to get to his chest. “No pulse.” Hen said as she held her fingers to his neck to check his pulse.While, the worry in her voice almost turned into panic mode.

“Get that lifepak ready!” Chimney now shouted. But the second he got handed the lifepak, Hen spoke up. “It doesn’t make sense to shock him. He’s in full cardiac arrest!” she said as she looked over at her partner, and towards Buck’s bare chest thinking of what to do.

“I’m starting compressions, get that lifepak off!” Hen’s partner now said, as he climbed on top of the gurney, pressing his hands deep into Buck’s chest. “Come on Buck! Come on!” Chimney’s voice said as he tried to get his brother-in-law’s heart beating again. “Come on man! You can’t leave (Y/n)!” he continued shouting, hoping those words would get him back to reality.

“Alright Chim! Chim, we've got to move!” Bobby ordered Chimney, but he was so determined to get him back, words around him weren’t coming through. It wasn’t until Hen gave him a small push, that he realized he needed to get off the gurney.

“Dispatch, this is Captain 118. We have a firefighter down, struck by lightning, unresponsive, three minutes out.”

______

(Y/n) arrived through the emergency entrance of the hospital. Desperately looking for someone she knew, and could tell her what the hell had happened on that call. Her hair was soaking wet, she didn’t even bother to grab a jacket when she ran outside towards her car. She didn’t care if she’d catch a cold. That was the least of her worries at the moment.

“Wha..- What the hell happened?” (Y/n) gasped as she stumbled into the waiting room. Finding a small part of her crew. Oh god, the moment she stepped through those doors it almost made her puke. They had been through too much already. But walking through those doors made her heart pound in her chest, like she had run a marathon for miles.

She hadn’t cried at all, but walking through those doors made it seem more real to her.

She saw Hen and Eddie turning around, Hen’s eyes were still watering and Eddie’s were red like he hadn’t slept in days. But it wasn’t the exhaustion that made his eyes that red. The second she locked eyes with Hen, (Y/n)’s eyes were still wide open in shock. Tears were stinging in her eyes as the two of them walked towards her.

“(Y/n)...” Hen sighed, as she stood across from her with Eddie on her left side. “No…” she said as she looked at Hen. Trying to suppress the cry and the tears that were crawling up. Eddie pressed his hand to her upper arm, trying to comfort her. While she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to comfort herself too.

But the feeling in her chest started to feel tighter within the second. Her breaths were shallow and inconsistent as panic clawed its way through her. Her vision became blurry and she grabbed the fabric of her shirt, pressing the small piece of fabric between her hands to try and get herself back.

Her world began to spin faster and the sound of her heart was pounding like a drum in her ears. Tears were beginning to slowly stream down her face when Hen started to explain what had happened on scene. But none of the words she told her we're coming through. Everything she said was inaudible.

“Hey, hey, (Y/n), look at me,” Hen’s calm yet commanding voice cut through the haze, pulling her attention. Her eyes were locked onto Hen now, “Breathe with me, okay?” her voice said.

(Y/n) shook her head, as more tears streamed down her face. “I... I can’t... I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can. I’m right here with you. We are right here with you.” Hen said softly, as she looked at Eddie and back at (Y/n), gently placing her hands on (Y/n)’s shoulders. “In through your nose for four, out through your mouth for four. Let’s do it together. Ready?”

Hen took a breath in, holding up four fingers as she inhaled. (Y/n) struggled but copied her action, shaky and uneven. Hen’s fingers slowly counted down from four to one, guiding her through it again.

“That’s it. You’re doing great. Just one breath at a time.” She coached her.

Slowly, (Y/n)’s breathing began to steady, the panic loosening its grip. Hen kept her focus on (Y/n) “There you go. See? You’ve got this,” Hen said with a reassuring smile, squeezing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

Tears rolled down (Y/n)’s cheeks, but she nodded, a small sense of control returning. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Always,” Hen replied, as she guided her to take a seat in one of the hospital waiting room chairs. Eddie and Hen both took a seat beside her, trying to comfort her as they waited for some news.

“He’s going to be okay” Hen said, placing her hand onto her shoulder as she gave it a soft, gentle, squeeze.

• Buck’s coma dream

“People have been dropping off food all day.” Margaret said as she proudly looked around the apartment of Buck. Pointing at the flowers and the cards he had received over the days he had been in the hospital.

“And oh, your kids.. ” Wait, did he hear that right? Was he a father? Did he have kids with (Y/n) in whatever this was? His eyes grew wide, filled with hope as she said those words. He cleared his throat, “I- Um..- Kids?” he stumbled.

Margaret smiled and nodded at his short question, “yes, your students.” she answered with a duh tone in her voice. Like he had to know what she was talking about. But when the word “kids” fell off his mother’s lips, all he could think about was: where was his fiancée?

His eyebrows furrowed at her latest words, students? What was she talking about? He was a firefighter, right? What students was she talking about? “What?” he asked his mother with a confused look all over his face. But when his mother wanted to answer his question, he threw another question at her.

“Wait.. Where’s (Y/n)?” he then asked. Looking around the apartment for any clues. What kind of future, dream, universe was he in? He had so many questions floating through his mind right now.

His mother was looking at him in confusion, “What are you talking about? Who is (Y/n)?” Margaret asked as she followed her son’s eyes, desperately searching the cabinets and shelves that were in the apartment from a distance.

“My girl, my fiancée? Where is she?” Buck asked. Why didn’t anyone recognize her name? They knew about her, and how much he loved her. Why wasn’t anyone telling him where she was. Were they playing some kind of weird mind game with him?

“How hard did you hit your head when you made that fall?” Phillip chimed in then. A feeling of annoyance slowly entered his body. “What? I-” he stumbled, but before he could even think of a proper something to say, his dad turned to Daniel.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Phillip asked his eldest, with a drink in his hand. Daniel sighed as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer out of it as he read the label. “Yeah, why do you keep doubting me?” Daniel answered as he closed the fridge then again. “It’s not like I'm a doctor or anything.” He continued, with his eyes still burned onto the label of the beer and he made his way towards the living room part of the apartment.

As Daniel and Phillip walk towards the couch, Buck’s eyes were locked onto the two of them. But then his attention was caught by something else. A sparkly, golden, 3D model of a ferris wheel was on one of the cabinets in his apartment.

Determined, he walked towards the cabinet, standing in front of the ferris wheel as he let his fingers trace over the model. “What’s this?” he asked his mother who was following his steps.

“No Idea. It doesn’t go with anything else I picked out.” Margaret answered his question.

Only the thought of a ferris wheel made his mind go back to one of the worst days of Buck’s life. His fingers traced over the golden ferris wheel parts, as his eyes were locked onto the piece of decoration.

The room around him seems to fade away. The sound of the television in the living room playing, and his family members communicating, it all dissolved into the deafening roar of rushing water.

He was back on the pier.

The sky was clear and blue, the sun’s reflection was shimmering off the ocean’s surface. Within the snap of a finger, the water retreated, a silent inhale before it’d drown Los Angeles.

Buck lifted Christopher over his shoulder as he grabbed (Y/n)’s hand who was still staring at what ever the fuck was happening with the ocean. “(Y/n)! Come on!” he yelled as he roughly pulled her with him towards land again.

He sees (Y/n). Terror in her eyes. Her hand slipping from Buck’s grip as the wave rips them apart.

“(Y/n)!” Buck gasps, his breath hitching. (Y/n) was fighting the water to keep her head up and above the water, but the waves were too strong. He can still feel the water closing in, pulling him under, tossing him through the wreckage. His lungs burn. His muscles scream. (Y/n)’s horrifying scream went through his marrow and bones again, like it did every time he thought back of that day.

The memories crash into him like the waves did that day.

“But if you like it, I love it.” His mom touching his shoulder and upper arm yanks him back to the conversation he was having with his mom. His chest heaves as he blinks, the 3D model of a ferris wheel coming back into focus. The sound of water is gone. The scream of (Y/n) still sounding faded in the back of his head.

• Reality

(Y/n) walked those awful grey and white hospital hallways. She kept her head low, looking down at the ground as she didn’t know what to do with herself. (Y/n) didn’t know how to feel, there were so many emotions rushing through her body.

She took another turn to the left, Chimney and Bobby came into her view. They were standing in front of one of the windows, looking into the room Buck was being placed in.

“Hey.” she said, her tone worried. “What do we know?” she asked the two men in front of her who were slowly turning towards (Y/n) now.

“Not much, He’s alive. In critical condition. They had to put him into a medically induced coma to allow his body to rest and recover. The next twenty four hours are going to be crucial.” Bobby said, surprisingly calm.

She didn’t want to even glance through the window. If she��d do that, things would be real. But it wasn’t a dream. If this was a dream, this would be the definition of a nightmare. But all the times she had pinched herself, wasn’t enough. She sighed as she finally found the courage to look through the window.

Slowly she let her eyes wander to the bed Buck was lying on. This would be one of the moments that’d hunt her forever, the picture would be burned into her brain. She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip. It was real.

She took another shaky breath, opening her eyes once more. Scanning the environment. “He’s on life support. Breathing with the help of a ventilator?” (Y/n) said, but it sounded more like a question.

“The lightning strike was literally a shock to his system. Sent him into cardiac arrest.” Bobby explained the situation as (Y/n)’s eyes were only locked onto her fiancée who was hooked up to all those different machines.

But Bobby’s explanation was interrupted by a soft sound of a ringtone. Bobby quickly fished his phone from his pocket as he read the caller-ID. “Oh- I’m sorry I have to take this..” he said, excusing himself as he walked away and pressed the phone to his ear.

Chim took place next to (Y/n) who was still looking through the window. Chimney didn’t say anything as he joined her looking through the window. He gave her some time to just look in peace. There was already so much information coming towards her.

“It’s so weird.. an hour ago he was up and jumping through the station with his jokes. And now, he’s in there.. hooked up to whatever machines to stay alive.”

Chimney swallowed, his jaw tightening. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, raw with disbelief. “One second he’s making fun of your cooking skills, the next he’s—” He gestured toward the room, as if that explained everything. As if it ever could.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. (Y/n) bit her lip, her gaze tracing the pale face of the man lying in the hospital bed. He looked so still. So unlike Buck.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Chimney said suddenly, more to himself than anything. “He has to.” he added as he looked to his left, looking at (Y/n) who was trying to suppress her emotions.

(Y/n) didn’t answer right away. Their throat burned, emotions threatening to spill over. Finally, they nodded, forcing a small, fragile smile.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “He has to.”

And yet, as they stood there, watching Buck fight the battle they couldn’t help him with. All they could do was wait.

• Buck’s coma dream

After Buck had finally convinced coma dream Chimney that he actually knew him, he was hanging with him at the kitchen island. Chimney opened the fridge as he placed a bottle of beer right in front of him. “The last thing I remember is: we were at this apartment fire. It was raining. I went up the ladder and… there was a giant flash.” Buck was going over his thoughts once again. He pushes himself up and he opens the bottle of beer.

“Sounds like you were struck by lightning.” Chimney said, looking at Buck who was starting to pace through the room. “Yeah but, I don’t think I’m dead. It feels like some kind of coma dream.” Buck answered. But just as he turned around and started his first steps of pacing around the apartment..

His eyes fell onto the dining table of Chimney’s apartment. A miniature fire truck was lying on his side on the table. “What the…-” he stumbled, as the memories flashed before his eyes.

Within’ a blink of an eye he was lying on the ground. His hands pressed onto the asphalt beneath him as his left foot was in an odd angle.

His ears were ringing, his eyes were trying to adjust to what ever the hell just had happened. His vision was blurry, and changing from red to yellow-ish every second. Buck’s hand brushed over the asphalt as he tried to scan the scene he was in.

The glass windshield of the truck broke, and fell onto the ground. Sending an awful, horrible pain through his leg, making Buck grunt.

Everything hurt. His head. his legs. his back. Even breathing hurted.

Buck really didn’t really get whatever was happening. There was this boy, holding some kind of deadman trigger. He kept on wandering around, screaming something. But Buck’s ears were still ringing, so the voices sounded dull to him.

Suddenly, Bobby was there. His hands in the air, slowly making his way towards the young boy as Buck himself kept fighting to keep his eyes open, and push himself up. Buck couldn’t really register what was happening. He only knew his leg hurted, his head was pounding like it was going to explode any second now.

Then, Hen, Eddie and Chimney came rushing over towards him. “You’re still with us Buck?” Chimney asked, but he didn’t answer his question. Hen placed a medic bag next to him as they began to access him. “Buck, how are we doing?” she asked as she dug through the bag. “Kind of numb.” he answered with a trembling voice. But was the only thing that basically could come out of his mouth.

While Hen, Eddie and Chimney were diagnosing him and tried to give him first aid, he was only searching for her. “Buck!” (Y/n)’s voice, high and strained, cuts through the chaos. His head jerked up, searching for her, and there she was..

Held back by Bobby, his strong grip kept her from entering the scene, away from Buck. Her eyes were wide and in panic mode.

“Let me help!” she cries, trying to push past Bobby who was in civilian clothes, but he shakes his head. “No. They’ve got this. You need to stay back.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for argument, but she didn’t care.

“That’s my boyfriend!” she snaps, fighting against his hold. “I can’t just—just stand here!” she cried.

He wanted to tell her it’s okay, that he got this, but the truth was, he didn't. The pain in his leg was unbearable, and he didn’t know if he could keep it together much longer.

“Hang in there Buck” Hen’s voice cuts through the noise. Buck’s breath is coming too fast. The edges of my vision blur. The pain is worse than anything he had ever felt, like his leg is being ground into dust.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the pain. Every firefighter on scene was coming together, getting ready to tilt this truck off his leg. But then his eyes snapped open. And suddenly (Y/n) is there, right in front of him. Bobby had let her go. Or maybe she fought him off, he didn’t know. All he knew was the fact that she was in front of him, holding his arms, ready to slide him from underneath if she could.

“I’m here,” she breathes, her voice shaking but determined. “Y-Y/N,” he managed, his voice was raw. She shook her head quickly, brushing damp hair from his forehead “Yeah, baby. I’m right here. Just hold on, okay?” she said softly, as she looked to the people who were ready to lift the truck.

The metal groans as the team works to lift the truck. A rush of hope rushed through his veins, only to be crushed under another wave of agony as the pressure on his leg shifts. A scream leaving Buck’s lips before he could stop himself. His entire body was trembling.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” she whispered softly, her thumb brushing over his arms as a attempt to soothe him.

He was looking at the miniature truck between his fingers. Chimney had been in a coma when that rebar went through his head years ago. Maybe he knew something about coma dreams. With those thoughts, he placed the miniature truck back onto the table and turned around.

“Okay so, when you were in your coma, what do you remember?” he asked, as he slowly walked back towards the kitchen island Chimney was leaning against. “Nothing” Chimney answered. This was so not helpful. “How long have you been walking around in this coma?” Chimney asked now.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Uh, I don’t know. Time is weird. Maybe two days?” he guessed. “Wait, you've been walking around in an alternative universe for two days and now you’re just now starting to ask questions?” Chimney asked as he pushed himself from leaning on the kitchen island and started walking towards Buck now.

“It was kinda nice at first, until I asked my family about (Y/n)...” he told Chimney. But if his family didn’t know (Y/n).. Maybe Chimney would, right? “Wait, you know her right?” Buck asked before Chimney could react to his words.

Chimney took a moment to think, repeating her name multiple times as he looked to the ceiling. “No, I don’t think I do..” he said, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head.

The panic was rising in his chest, but maybe he needed a wake up call. “You know, always hanging around the firehouse, always laughing at my dumb jokes.” he tried to help him remember. But he shook his head again. “Buck, I swear, I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Chim said.

“You have to know her! She’s your colleague, friend, she’s my fiancée for god sake!” A mix of panic, stress and desperation filled his voice. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard that name before,” he said.

No. No, this wasn’t right. (Y/n) was real. He could still hear their voice, still feel their touch. Why didn’t anyone recognize that name?

Buck’s throat tightened. His chest heaved as he stared at his friend, searching his face for any sign that this was some twisted joke. But Chimney looked genuinely confused. His hands dug into his hair as the walls closed in. His lungs burned.

With his hands in his hair, he felt his heart pound in his chest, trying to break free. His ears started pounding as his airways closed off.

He pressed a flat hand on his chest, as he tried to take a breath. But his lungs weren’t working. “Wow, hey, hey, hey!” “Are you okay?” Chimney asked as he saw Buck was having trouble getting air.

Buck grabs his throat, as a sign that he couldn’t. Blood was rushing towards his head, making it red as he gasped for air. Buck’s eyes became blurry as he tried to keep his balance by holding on to the kitchen island. But he fell down to his knees. “Try to calm down! Try to breathe!”

• Reality

It has been two days since the accident. And to be honest, (Y/n) hasn’t left this room ever since. Only to use the restroom, get some food or drinks. But most of the time she didn’t have to, because if there was someone who came to visit Buck, they brought something for (Y/n).

The door was closed, but (Y/n) was sitting across from Buck in some kind of “lazy” hospital chair. She wouldn’t do anything except looking at him, keeping an eye on the machines he was hooked up on, and just watching him breathe. The constant beeping of the machines would sometimes make her fall asleep, like right now.

“Hey” Chimney said as he walked through the hallway, aiming for Maddie who was looking through the window. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your brother?” he continued. Maddie shook her head, Chimney stopped beside her and followed her eyes letting out a soft sigh.

(Y/n) was sleeping, her head leaning onto her hand that was placed onto the armrest of the chair. “How long has she been in there?” Maddie asked Chimney, since he got more updates from his crew. “She hasn't left.” Chimney answered her question. Tears were burning in Maddie’s eyes as she looked at the two in the room.

Maddie had given (Y/n) a new set of clothes on the day it happened. She had hoped (Y/n) would’ve gone home every now and then, but the girl was determined. She had to be there when he woke up.

The constant beeps switched, they became more and more within the second. (Y/n)’s eyes shot open, like she felt something was wrong. Her eyes shot from Buck’s body right towards the machines. In shock she watched the machines. The words “Lower limit warning” lit up in one of the screens in yellow letters. Her eyes rushed from the machine back to his body.

He was breathing like he was hyperventilating. She was alert the moment she read those words. (Y/n) pushed herself onto her feet, as she yanked the door open. “He can’t breathe!” she yelled as she was now in the grey empty hallways of the ICU.

Tears burned in her eyes as she watched nurses suddenly dropping everything and running towards her. Everything around her became a blur as she felt two people standing next to her. Maddie’s hand was pressed onto her shoulder, trying to give (Y/n) some kind of comfort as Chimney tried to get the nurses into the room. “Hey, hey, hey! We need someone in here!” Chimney called out and pushed the door more open.

The nurses were doing their job as (Y/n) stood in the door opening with Chimney and Maddie. Looking at whatever they were doing to help Buck. But (Y/n) couldn’t look at this. If he didn’t make it through, this wasn’t how she wanted to remember him. She turned on her heels, placing her hands on her head as she quickly blinked the tears away.

• Buck’s coma dream

“What’s wrong with him?” Hen asked, pointing at Buck as she looked back at Chimney.

Chimney held up his hands as he looked stressed at Buck who was still struggling with taking a single breath. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just having a panic attack.” Chimney guessed as he looked at his friend, hoping she’d know how to help him.

Hen’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy in front of her. Was he for real? “Hey buddy, can you hear me?” she asked. Only receiving a nod from the complete stranger. “Buck can’t breathe.” Chimney concluded, as he watched him.

But then, it was like the invisible hands that were tightening his airways close, let go all of the sudden. The choking had stopped, he could take a breath without any pain or difficulty. Buck let go of his chest and straightened his back, with a surprised look crossed over his face.

Chimney and Hen looked at him in confusion. “Or maybe he’s pulling our legs. He’s fine.” Hen said as she switched looks between the two guys. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what happened. It was like all of the sudden my lungs just stopped working.” Buck apologized.

"And now?” Hen asked as a second check. Buck stretched his arms, shaking his head as he felt nothing weird. “Uh, yeah, no.. I feel better.” he admitted.

That still confused frown was on Hen’s face visible as she faced Chimney. “And how did this happen?” she asked him. “He was asking about (Y/n), that’s what brought this all on.” he explained, as they both looked at Buck now.

It didn’t make sense to him. Why could no one in this silly coma dream tell him where (Y/n) was? This was his subconsciousness. He was in charge. Right? “How can it be that no one in this entire universe can’t tell me where my fiancée is?” Buck asked as he looked at both Chimney and Hen.

Chimney just made the same face as he did a minute ago. There was no change in that. “Wait, wait, wait, that name does sound familiar to me.” Hen then said as she was thinking.

There was a minute of silence, as a little spark of hope jumped in his chest. He gave her the space to think for a second. But after a moment, the back of Hen’s hand slapped against Chimney’s chest, hard.

“Isn’t she that nurse from First Presbyterian?” Hen asked Chimney. Both eyes were burned on Chimney now as he was thinking. “You know? The one who’s in charge of the ER?” Hen tried to help him remember. Chimney’s eyes grew wide. “You’re right.”

He barged through the doors of the hospital and immediately made his way towards the ER. He knew this hospital like the back of his hand.

“Excuse me? What are you doing?” A female voice asked him, as he pushed through the other set of swinging doors that made him enter the emergency room.

He entered the ER, his eyes desperately searching for his girl. The lady at the desk probably was too lazy or busy to follow him and make him leave the ER. Buck only had eyes for one person only. And that’s when he saw her.

She was smiling at one of her co-workers, that smile that made the rest of the world smile too. That smile that had him wrapped around her finger. She turned around and walked through the ER, leaving his line of sight. She was focused, busy, doing her job like nothing was wrong.

He called her name from a large distance as he watched her back walking away from him further and further. He called her name a second time as he made some speed to follow her. He called her name out even louder the third time. But she didn’t react, didn’t even glance his way.

Like she couldn’t hear him.

Frowning, he stepped closer, following her down the hallway. His pulse quickened. She wasn’t running, but she was moving fast, weaving between nurses and doctors, her attention elsewhere. But he knew a shortcut.

Still, after a few moments, she started to look over her shoulder, like she could feel him following behind her. Like some part of her knew she was being followed.

She glanced back for a third time, and that’s when Buck made his move. Before she could take another step, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her sharply into the nearest medicine supply closet.

A squeak left her lips as the door shut behind them. “What the hell-?” she gasped. The lights flickered on, and he saw her. She was here. It wasn’t some kind of döppelganger. It was (Y/n).

He exhaled sharply, his grip loosening around her upper arm. But he looked at her for a second, and pulled her into a crushing hug. His arms locked around her like she might disappear if he let go.

(Y/n) froze in his embrace. “…Buck?” she said in a confused tone. But Buck shut his eyes, holding onto her tighter. “You’re okay, you’re here.” he whispered.

She hesitated before answering, her voice careful. “Of course, I’m here.” Buck loosened his arms around her body as he looked her in her eyes again. “What are you doing here? Why are you a nurse?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion

(Y/N) met his gaze, something unreadable in her expression. Then, with the faintest smirk, she said, “You tell me. This is your dream. I’m just living in it.” she explained to him.

His stomach dropped. “So… I’m dead,” he murmured as he let his eyes wander to the ground, his head ready to drown in his own thoughts. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly. “Close, but not quite.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Then where am I? What is this?” He looked around the supply closet like the walls could give him an answer. “Is this… some kind of waiting room? Heaven? Hell?”

(Y/N) sighed, folding her arms as she looked at the panicked face of the guy in front of her. “You need to relax.” she told him. “Relax?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve been stuck here for days, I keep getting flashbacks to traumatizing moments of my life, apparently I’m almost dead. Forgive me if I’m having a hard time relaxing.” He started pacing down the small part of the supplies closet.

(Y/n) gave him a knowing look before turning away. “Come here.” she said as she walked over to one of the cabinets, opening both doors. Buck watched as she pushed aside bottles of medicine and supplies, revealing something that shouldn’t have been there.

There was a window.

His heart pounded as he stepped forward, through the glass he could see himself. He was lying in a hospital bed, intubated. Unmoving. Machines hooked up to him, beeping softly.

Bobby was there, his hand holding on tight to the rosary beads like it was his only lifeline. Also (Y/n) was there. The real her. Sitting at his bedside, her hands clasped together like she had been praying.

The air in Buck’s lungs vanished at the image in front of him.

In shock he watched the three people in the room. “What the hell is this?” Buck asked the (Y/n) who was standing beside him. He glanced to his right, waiting for her to answer. She met his eyes, blinking away the tears that were stinging in her eyes. “Well, Evan Buckley, that right there is reality, whatever is happening on this side is your deep dark subconscious.” she explained.

The way she said his name made his heart skip a beat. She never called him Evan, only when she wanted to mess with him, but she surely never used his full name.

Buck’s eyes wandered back to watch the scene in front of him. “Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” he asked. (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, “Well, it depends on how you look at it. You could be dying or fighting for your life. But it’s kinda up to you.” she answered. Although that didn’t really answer his question.

At that moment, Bobby stood up from his seat. He walked towards (Y/n) and gave her a hug, as Buck’s parents and sister entered the room, following a doctor.

“W-what is happening?” Buck asks as panic was rising in his chest and voice. But (Y/n) didn’t answer as she just watched the scene in front of her. “What is happening!?” he asked again.

But as he looked to his right, (Y/n) was gone. And a döppelganger of himself in a doctor's jacket was standing right next to him. He looked him up and down in shock. “Looks like they’re pulling the plug, Evan.” he said. Before he could even answer for himself, the doctor “him” cut him off. “They don’t care about you. You’re not good enough, you never have been.” he said.

Buck looked at his döppelganger in shock, as he tried to figure things out. “This is all happening inside my head, which means I've been talking to myself the whole time.” He clarified to himself. “I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore.” He added as he shoved all the aside bottles of medicine and supplies off the shelves in front of the window.

The döppelganger watched him with a smirk on his face. “What are you doing?” he said, cocky. “I have to get back! I’m running out of time!” The panic was written all over his face as he yanked all bottles and other supplies off the shelves, and moved the shelves from the window. “It’s impossible, there’s no way back there. You’re stuck with me.” The döppelganger claimed.

“It’s not impossible! There’s not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into. I know that.” Buck told his subconsciousness. But he could hear a chuckle coming from the other him.

He walked determined to the side of the room as he took a fire axe out of the red box. “There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.” Döppelganger Buck said then, with that same stupid grin on his face. But instead of looking him in the eye, he watched the scene, there’s enough hurt in that room. (Y/n) hasn’t stopped crying since he laid eyes on the window, Bobby was praying with his rosary beads, and if he did that, it must’ve been bad. He wasn’t the only one hurting.

“Keep telling that to yourself.” he said, and yanked the fire axe through the window.

______

The first thing Buck felt was warmth. A gentle pressure against his hand. Steady. Familiar. Then, muffled voices entered his ears. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The scent of antiseptic and something softer… vanilla? No… coconut.

It was (Y/n).

His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open. The hospital lights were too bright, but they weren’t what held his focus. It was her.

Curled up in the chair beside his bed, her head resting against their joined hands, fingers wrapped around his like she had been holding on for dear life. His throat felt like sandpaper, his voice hoarse. “(Y/n)…” he managed to get out.

She stirred instantly, her fingers twitching against his. Her eyes fluttered open, sleepy and dazed until her eyes landed on his. She froze. Her breath hitched.

“Buck?” Her voice cracked as she shot up, eyes wide with disbelief. A slow, tired smile tugged at Buck’s lips. “Hey.”

A strangled noise left her throat half a sob, half a laugh before she lunged forward, throwing herself into his arms. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her body molding against his like she belonged there. He could feel her shaking, feel the way her breath hitched against his shoulder.

“Easy,” he croaked, though he had no complaints about being tackled with this much affection. (Y/n) pulled back to look at him, placing both her hands onto his cheeks, cupping his face. “You’re awake.” she whispered, tears spilling freely now.

Buck blinked up at her, brushing his thumb weakly against her hand. “Told you I’d see you in a bit.”

She let out a breathless, watery laugh, pressing her forehead to his. “You idiot,” she muttered. “You scared the shit out of me.” she said. His heart ached at the exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the tension still in her shoulders.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. She swallowed hard, running her fingers through his hair like she couldn’t believe he was real. “Since the moment you got here,” she admitted softly. “I never left. Except to use the restroom.” She cried. “And even then, I made Bobby stand guard.”

Buck’s chest ached, not from the coma, not from the accident but from the fact that she had stayed. She had never given up on him.

“Fiancée of the year,” he said, squeezing her hand weakly. (Y/N) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head as she placed a free hand onto his cheek again, rubbing her thumb against his skin. “Yeah, well, I kinda love you, so.”

His eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched. “Kinda?” She exhaled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Shut up”

Her fingers brushed against his forehead gently, her thumb smoothing over his cheek. Her expression softened. “You shouldn’t be talking this much,” she told him. “You just woke up.” she continued.

“I have a lot to say.” He then said. “And you can say it later,” she said firmly, already reaching for the call button. “I need to get a nurse-” she groaned.

His hand shot up, slower than usual, and weaker than he liked but enough to stop her. Her breath caught as he intertwined their fingers again, holding her there. “Stay,” he whispered.

(Y/n) hesitated, her worry flickering between her brows. But one look at him and she melted. She squeezed his hand and leaned in, her lips brushing against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck sighed in relief, his eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion started creeping in. “Good,” he murmured sleepily. “Wanna marry you first.” he admitted. (Y/n) let out a breathless laugh, brushing her fingers through his hair again. “We will… when you’re out of the hospital.” she whispered. Buck sent her a small smile and as Buck drifted off again he knew, without a doubt, that he had made it back exactly where he belonged.

Home.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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#911 #911 fox #imagine #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley

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lyjen · 6 months ago

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In The Right Place Part 2 | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: Buck’s recklessness frustrates (Y/n), but later he saves her during a call. Afterward, they open up about their pasts, growing closer than ever before.

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Feel free to send in a request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section! 🫶🏽

9-1-1 Masterlist | <<< Previous Chapter

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The 118 arrived at the location the 9-1-1 caller had passed through. They were at the edge of a deep, rocky ravine where the hiker had slipped and fallen. The dispatcher told the team the man was injured, but clinging to a narrow ledge half way down.

It was a miracle the hiker could call for help, the reception wasn’t that good in the middle of nowhere, and most of the people that fall half way down a ravine, don’t survive.

The doors of the firetruck opened as the team got out of the vehicle. The dust was flowing around the scene, from the sandy road beneath the tires of the truck.

Bobby took one look at the scene they were working with, and turned to the team. “We’re going with a rope rescue.” Captain Nash said the second he scanned the situation. “Buck, you’re our climber. (Y/n), you and Eddie handle the lines. Chim and Hen, prep medical gear.” He continued, certain of his choices.

It has been exactly two weeks since (Y/n) had joined the team, and she could say with certainty that the 118 was slowly starting to feel like home, like it felt back in Long Beach. She was starting to get to know the rest of the team everyday a little bit more, and the other way around.

(Y/n) nodded as her Captain was done giving everyone their tasks and moved to secure the rope system as Buck fished the harness from the truck and slipped into it with practiced ease.

“You good to go?” Eddie asked as he finished tightening Buck’s gear. A grin appeared on Buck’s face. “I was born ready” he said with way too much confidence, making (Y/n) roll her eyes at his typical reaction. “Of course you were.” she muttered under her breath, continuing preparing the ropes.

The words left her mouth a little too loud. Buck looked up at her, catching the words and the tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, raising a brow at her words.

“It means..” she started as she lowered the ropes in her hands and glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid” she snapped as she glared at him from her spot at the ropes.

Buck’s grin vanished from his face and he sighed. “Relax, (Y/n). I’ve done this a million times.” he said, trying to reassure her that everything was okay.

“That’s what worries me.” She shot back as she tightened her hands on the rope. She hoped those words came out of her mouth as a mumble, but it came a little louder than she had hoped. She knew he heard her words.

Ever since she had that conversation on the first day with Buck, things had changed just a little bit. They were still trying to find out a way to work together, but it was difficult working with someone who didn’t think for at least one second.

Moments later, Buck was carefully being lowered over the edge of the ravine, as the rope creaked softly because of the weight that was hanging on it. From her spot on the ground, (Y/n) watched him descend down to the victim. Her eyes were flicking between Buck and the rope system as Eddie monitored the lines beside her.

“Slow and steady, Buck.” Eddie said into the radio as Buck was out of sight, rippling down to get the wounded hiker. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it.” Buck’s voice sounded as confident as always. Making (Y/n) roll her eyes at the amount of confidence he had in his voice. “Just focus for once.” She mumbled under her breath as the rope gently moved through her gloved hands.

Buck could feel the jitters in his abdomen, even though he had done this a hundred times, if not more. When his feet touched the small space where the hiker landed after his fall, he didn’t want to put too much weight onto the ground to avoid the ground falling from beneath them.

“What’s your name sir?” Buck asked as he grabbed the second harness that was sent down. “I- Uh- Luther” the hiker stumbled as he was unsure what was happening. “Luther, I’m Buck. I’m going to get you out of here okay?” he explained. Luther nodded in agreement, but Buck could tell he was scared. “Okay, now.. I need you to stand up slow and steady and let me put this around you.”

Luther nodded as he slowly stood up, his legs were looking like they were made of jell-o. Every step the hiker made, how slowly and steady he did it, it made the ledge crumble beneath him. Rocks were breaking loose with every single short move he made and tumbling down into the ravine. If something did go wrong this moment, there would be no turning back. But luckily Luther stepped into the harness, as Buck secured him and stabilized him.

“Got him!” Buck called out, but just to be sure he grabbed his radio. “We’re ready to come up! Green!” his voice came through. A soft sigh left (Y/n)’s mouth as she heard the confirmation, she took a breath she didn’t know she needed.

For once he didn’t do anything stupid. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Okay, let’s pull them up slow” Eddie instructed, signaling to (Y/n) the sign to pull the rope, to get them on solid ground again. (Y/n) held her breath again as they began raising Buck and the hiker.

She could hear the ropes creaking under the weight that was hanging onto the other side, but the system held firm. “Almost there,” Eddie muttered as he had his hands steady on the lines, pulling it.

The creaking of the lines became louder within every pull, making the thing (Y/n) scared of reality as a horrific snap echoed through the ravine.

One of the anchor points failed.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sound of the snap as her heart was leaping into her throat right now. “No, no, no.” (Y/n) mumbled under her breath. The rope jerked violently, sending Buck swinging hard into the rocks. A grunt fell off Buck’s lips as his body slammed into the side of the ravine. He placed one of his hands on the rocks to bring the swinging rope to a halt.

“Hold it! Hold it!” Bobby’s voice roared over the scene as Eddie and (Y/n) tried to get the rope back under control. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Eddie grunted as he used all his strength to pull the two people back in.

(Y/n) threw her weight onto the line, placing her heels into the ground as they tried to steady Buck. “Buck talk to us” Bobby sounded over the radio. Panic was creeping into her chest as it took Buck seconds to answer. “Buck, what’s your status?” Bobby asked.

(Y/n) had her eyes closed as she held onto the rope for dear life. The radio made room for some statics, “We’re fine cap, just.. get us up!” his voice sounded over the radio, mixed with a cough.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, looking at (Y/n) “You good?” Eddie asked as they made eye contact. She nodded, “Let’s get it over with.” she said as she let her eyes wander back to her gloved hands and they both pulled the ropes.

The climb was slower this time, the rope continued to creak as Eddie and (Y/n) worked together to lift Buck and the injured hiker back up. Her hands were hurting from the weight she needed to pull, but it didn’t bother her. They needed to get the both of them back on the ground. And she didn’t care if she needed to break her own skin to do it.

It looked like there wasn't an end to the rope she had in her hands. But when Buck’s helmet finally came into sight, and his boots hit solid ground, (Y/n) let out a shaky breath and placed her hands onto her thighs.

She was exhausted, not only from pulling the ropes, but also the stress she was experiencing the last five to ten minutes.

Buck unhooked his harness as Hen and Chimney immediately checked the hiker. (Y/n)’s eyes were locked on Buck as she took off the gloves and yanked them to the ground. Before she could let her brain catch up with her movements, she stormed over towards Buck.

Buck unlocked the clip of his helmet, as he heard footsteps coming closer. He looked up, and he found (Y/n) stroming over at him. Fire was burning in her eyes as she shoved him hard in the chest.

“What the hell was that?!” she shouted, Buck’s back falling against the firetruck as confusion took over his face. “Whoa- what’s your problem?” He stumbled as he looked at her.

“God you’re such a fucking idiot, Buck” (Y/n) continued to yell, giving him a shove again. “Do you even think before you act?” she added, before Buck could even explain or say something back at all.

“(Y/n), it wasn’t my fault-” he said as he held up his hands. He didn’t even do anything but his job? Why was she so upset with him?

“You act like you’re invincible, like nothing can touch you, but you’re not! That rope could’ve snapped completely, and then what? What if I couldn’t pull you back up? What if—” she stopped talking as she noticed how loud she was talking, she needed to calm down.

She looked down to the floor and turned her back towards him as she placed her hands on her hips. She took a breath as she blinked the tears away which were welling up in her eyes.

Buck’s face softened as he took a cautious step towards her. “Hey.. i’m okay. I’m right here.” He said. She was breathing hard as she wiped her face angrily. “You don’t get it, Buck..” she paused, her voice sounded broken and it was barely above a whisper. “For seconds… I thought we lost you.”

At first, Buck didn’t know what to say. His confused expression was replaced by genuine regret, even though he didn’t do anything. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized with a soft voice.

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed, “I thought we had talked this through? That we had a deal-” she paused, and she turned around, facing Buck now.

Her eyes were slowly turning red, “Whatever you’re doing, you don’t get to do that to us. To me-“ her lip was starting to tremble as she said those words.

Buck was caught off guard by her words. “To.. you?” he asked her slowly. And that’s where she realized what she’d just admitted, she cared about him. (Y/n) shook her head as she turned away. “Forget it.” she added, as she made a move to walk away from the conversation.

But he reached out, gently wrapping his hand around her upper arm. “(Y/n), wait-” he said. She glanced over her shoulder, their eyes connected.

She was clearly upset with what happened, but why was she mad at him? He didn’t sabotage the anchor point? Why would she even think that Buck would’ve liked the idea of bringing himself and the victim into a dangerous situation like this? It’s not like he particularly wanted to fall to death.

The sound of Bobby’s voice cut through the small moment they were having, pulling the both of them back to reality. “Buck! (Y/n)! Wrap it up, we’re heading out!” His voice sounded.

“On it cap!” Buck quickly switched, and with that, (Y/n) pulled her arm free with a hard pull. She gave Buck one last look. “Next time, think before you act.” and with those words she turned and walked away, leaving Buck standing there.

But this argument wasn’t really like the ones they had before, there was something new, as if something had shifted.

______

“Buck, (Y/n) you’re on the west side.” Bobby said, as he quickly broke the team into pairs. The warehouse they were searching was a blazing inferno, the fire was clawing itself through the structure with a fury that threatened to consume everything. They had to be fast.

“You got it, Cap.” Buck replied as he tightened his grip on the halligan between his hands as (Y/n) gave their captain a nod as she stood next to Buck. When she heard their names being paired together, she rolled her eyes for a quick second.

Bobby finished his explanation as he and Eddie went to their assigned location and tasks.

“Why do I always get the feeling we always pull the short straw together?” (Y/n) mumbled as they made their way through the huge space of the warehouse. Buck shot a glance over his shoulder, a grin was visible on his face “Maybe the universe thinks we make a good team.” he replied.

She let out a soft sigh, “Or maybe you’re bad luck.” she shot back, she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted that to say out loud or whisper it to herself. They both moved quickly, (Y/n) breath was labored as she followed Buck through the chaos and her flashlight was slicing through the thick grey smoke.

A voice cut through the air, calling out for help through the gasps for air. “Over here!” Buck shouted as loud as possible to get above the roar of the flames. She spotted Buck crouched near a pile of collapsed debris, when she hurried to his side she felt her pulse thundering in her ears.

“Someone’s trapped” Buck said while urgency was audible in his voice. He pointed towards a narrow gap beneath a fallen beam, the faint sound of coughing came from within, and continued with a call for help.

“We need to get him out.” (Y/n) said determined, as she already started tugging at the debris that was blocking their way. The heat was killing. But every second counted. Sweat was already dripping down (Y/n)’s face, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for the person that was trapped. The air was thick, and dark, almost if there wasn’t any oxygen left.

Buck threw his weight against the largest beam, grunting as he lifted it just enough for (Y/n) to crawl closer. “Carefull!” he called, not sure if he could hold the weight of the beam with only his body.

“I’m fine! Just don't try to kill me.” she shot back as she kneeled down and wriggled her body through the tight space to reach the trapped person.

When (Y/n) made her way through the tight space Buck had created, she reached the victim. Buck meanwhile managed to move the beam, still giving her the same amount of space to crawl through.

“Sir, can you hear me?” (Y/n) asked, her gloved hand brushing against his arm to try and get any kind of reaction from the man. The man nodded weakly, making (Y/n) let out a breath of relief. “Buck, I’ve got him!” (Y/n) called. “Get ready to pull him out!” she added as she wriggled her way back through the tight space.

She was half way when a deafening crack echoed through the building. The floor beneath them shuddered violently, and (Y/n)’s head shot up as she realized the ceiling above them was starting to give way.

“(Y/n) move, now!” Buck shouted, panic was creeping up his chest as he watched his partner struggling to get back through the tight space. (Y/n) barely had time to register the danger before Buck lunged toward her. His hand grabbed a handful of the back of her turnout coat, yanking her backward with such force that her body slammed into his, making them hit the ground hard.

The crash of debris behind them was deafening, all kinds of materials were scattering in every direction.

For a small moment neither of them moved, their bodies were pressed together as the crash of debris closed in around them. His arms were wrapped around her and his chest was rising and falling against her back.

“Are you okay?” his voice asked, as the adrenaline was rushing through his veins. (Y/n) tried to catch her breath, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment as a sharp pain appeared in her left side. “I- I think so” she stumbled, mixed with a tremble in her voice.

His grip loosened on her body as he helped her sit up, Buck stood up from behind her as he held out a hand towards her.

In pain, she hissed and pressed her eyes closed again. “You’re hurt.” he concluded as he scanned her facial expressions. She shook her head, “It’s nothing.” she said but the pain in her side told her otherwise.

“Can you stand?” he asked her. She nodded, though her movements were slow and hesitant. She accepted his hand and let him carefully lift her to her feet. “We still need to get him out,” she said, motioning toward the man who was coughing weakly beneath the debris.

“I’ve got him.” Buck said, “Just stay behind me.” he added. (Y/n) allowed Buck to take the lead this time.

He worked quickly but smoothly, pulling the man free. Buck put the male in the right position, crouched down as he held the man’s wrist in one hand and in the other hand his thigh. Her eyes were set on Buck as she watched him perform the right steps.

It was kinda.. attractive?

God no. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the awful thoughts she just had. Two weeks ago they were enemies and now she actually started to like him? No. Hell no.

“Let’s go!” Buck commanded as he walked back towards (Y/n) with the man on his shoulders. He kept a close eye on (Y/n) when they made their way through the flames again.

The heat was suffocating, the air thick with smoke, but they kept on going. But finally, the cool rush of night air hit them as they burst through the exit.

The team was already waiting outside, as paramedics rushed forwards to take the injured man from Buck. Buck crouched down again to place the man onto his feet again. “Here, he’s all yours. He inhaled a lot of smoke but he’s conscious.” he quickly briefed the paramedics.

As soon as the man was placed onto the gurney the paramedics hurried away. (Y/n) pulled her helmet from her head and blew the strands away that were in front of her face.

His eyes were locked on (Y/n) as he watched her take off her gloves and her entire facial expression changed when she made one wrong move.

“(Y/n)” Buck said in a serious tone. “Sit down. Let the paramedics check you out.” he told her. She looked back at him, as she let out a “I’m fine.” as she pressed her hand against her side and tried to catch her breath.

But Buck wouldn’t take no for an answer. He made eye contact with Hen who was giving the both of them a questioning look. So Buck waved her over. Hen rushed over towards the two, “Hey, you okay?” she asked as she watched (Y/n) press her hand onto her side.

“She’s hurt” Buck said quickly before (Y/n) could answer. “No, I’m fine.” she muttered through her voice with a lack of conviction. But he turned towards (Y/n) again. “No you’re not” he said, his tone soft but insistent.

She tried to pull away, get away from the conversation but Buck placed his hand firmly on her shoulder before she could try and run, guiding her towards Hen. “Come on, i’ll take a look” Hen said, not leaving any room for an argument.

(Y/n) sighed as Hen guided her to sit on the bumper of the ambulance. She took off her turnout coat as Hen unzipped her medic bag and began her examination. Hen gave her a small, knowing look. “You just had to follow Buck into the inferno, did you?”

(Y/n) let out a weak chuckle, “You know how it is.. The guy moves and you just, go.” she said. “Yeah well, next time.. maybe let him handle the death-defying stunts.” Hen replied as she pressed gently against (Y/n)’s ribs.

She winced, biting on her lower lip to not let out a curse word.

“Ribs are bruised but not broken,” Hen confirmed. “You’re lucky. Could’ve been worse.” she concluded. “Lucky isn’t how it feels,” (Y/n) muttered, leaning her head back against the ambulance.

Hen smirked. “Trust me, Buck’s had worse. You’ve officially joined the ‘pulled-from-the-fire-by-Evan-Buckley’ club. Membership comes with bruises and a lecture.”

(Y/n) chuckled as she caught herself glancing toward where Buck stood talking to Bobby. His shoulders were squared, his hands moving as he told what had happened.

Hen followed her gaze, her tone softening. “He’s got a habit of throwing himself into danger for the people he cares about. You did good in there, but you’ve got to let yourself heal.”

(Y/n) nodded, her stubbornness fading as exhaustion took over. “Thanks, Hen.”

“Anytime,” Hen replied with a warm smile, packing up her kit.

As Hen moved on to help another teammember, (Y/n) sat quietly, watching the embers from the fire flicker into the night sky. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, leaving her with a dull ache in her ribs.

______

The station was quiet after the chaos of the fire. Every member of the 118 had spread themselves over the firehouse, some were going to hit the shower, some were going to take a nap. But (Y/n) found herself alone in the locker room.

She wanted to change into something more comfy to move in than a button up. She stood in front of the mirror as she lifted her shirt just enough to inspect the already dark bruises blooming along her ribs.

“Great.” she mumbled under her breath as she gently poked the tender skin, making her hiss at the touch.

“Those look bad.”

The sudden voice that had entered the locker room startled her, making her drop her shirt quickly. She spinned around to find Buck standing just a few feet away, he was leaning against the doorway. His usual cocky grin wasn’t there now, he seemed softer. His eyes were wandering back to where he had just been checking her side.

“Ever heard of knocking?” (Y/n) said as she turned back to her locker, trying to get rid of whatever moment this was.

He smirked faintly, “It’s a locker room. I didn’t think I had to.” he replied. She shot him a look through the mirror that was in her locker, but the annoyance didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a small mirror after all. “What do you want, Buck?” she asked.

For a second, Buck hesitated. But eventually stepped into the room, making the door behind him call into its frame. “I just.. wanted to check on you. After earlier.” he replied to her question.

(Y/n) scoffed softly, as she wriggled the button up shirt off her arms and placed it into her locker. “I’m fine.” she said, just like she told him outside earlier.

Buck reached the line of lockers she was standing in front of. “You don’t look fine to me.” he answered as he crossed his arms and leaned his left shoulder against the lockers. “You took a hit in there.” he continued but it didn’t make (Y/n) turn around or glance over her shoulder at all.

She pulled the elastic from her hair, her small bun wasn’t as tight as it used to be a few hours ago. “It’s a bruise Buck.” she said unconcerned as she grabbed the hair on her head in one hand and had the elastic ready on her other hand. But the ache she felt in her ribs told her otherwise. “I’ll live.”

(Y/) finished making her bun as she used some bobby pins to keep it into its place. The hum of the overhead lights filled the silence that was now taking over the room. Buck tilted his head slightly, as he watched her finishing her hair.

“You know…” he started slowly, “you’ve been snapping at me a lot lately.” he continued as he kept his distance. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him as she checked her hair.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Buck told her, sounding more serious now. “Every time I open my mouth, you’re on me like it’s your job. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you hate me.”

(Y/n) sighed and turned on her heels to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t hate you, Buck.” she told him. “Then what is it?” Buck pushed himself off the lockers he was leaning on with his shoulder and stepped closer, searching her face. “Because it’s not just me being reckless, is it?”

And just when he asked that question, she looked away while pressing her lips into a thin line. “It doesn’t matter.” she said.

There was clearly something that she was hiding from him. Something sensitive that she pushed away. “It does to me,” Buck replied softly. She turns away from him facing her locker again. But Buck didn’t intend to leave before he knew the story behind her behavior. “Come on, talk to me.” he said, his eyes desperate for an explanation. He tried to search eye contact through the mirror she was standing in front of.

She brushed her fingers over her t-shirt where her bruises were, and let out a shaky breath. “You really want to know?” she asked, as she found him looking at her through the mirror.

Buck nodded.

She stared at her own reflection as she spoke. She didn’t have the courage to look him directly in the eyes as she told her story. She had the courage to do lots of things: running into burning buildings, collapsing buildings, helping strangers. But telling this story, she just couldn’t. “I lost a colleague on the job once. ” she started.

“Well.. not just my colleague. He was my best friend.” she continued.

Buck’s expression shifted as his arms fell to his sides. “What happened?” he asked her.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze in the mirror as her eyes fell down to her hands. “It was a structure fire, kind of like our first call together. He was just as reckless as you, always throwing himself into the fire first. It went well most of the time. Only that time… he didn’t make it out.” Her voice was on the edge of breaking down. But she needed to finish the story.

(Y/n)’s voice was quieter now, more fragile than he’d ever heard it. It was like he was suddenly listening to a little girl.

“He was the person who always had my back,” she continued, still staring at her fingers as she picked her skin. “But I couldn’t save him. I had to hold the line while the fire got worse. I had to stand there, knowing he wasn’t coming out. And then I had to look his family in the eye and tell them…” Her voice broke, and she quickly wiped a hand over her face, trying to collect herself. “It doesn’t matter how many times people tell you it wasn’t your fault. You still carry it with you.”

Buck stepped closer, his voice soft but steady. “(Y/n)… I’m so sorry.” He placed his hand onto her shoulder, carefully, not wanting to spook her.

For a moment, there was another silence. It was there but it wasn’t awkward at all. It was a vulnerable moment.

Finally, Buck let out a soft breath as he disconnected his hand from her shoulder and sank down onto the bench nearby. “You’re not the only one carrying ghosts, you know,” he admitted.

(Y/n) glanced to her side, looking at Buck who was sitting on the bench.

Buck’s gaze dropped to his feet. “A few years ago, there was this guy, Devon. He was on a rollercoaster when the lap bar just opened up and his best friend got ejected.” He paused, as he remembered the moment like it was yesterday. “The rollercoaster was hanging in the middle of the loop, upside down when we arrived. Devon was hanging onto it with his life. I got to him in time, but he refused to grab my hand..” Buck swallowed hard, his voice rougher now. “I told him I got him,but he just let go before even trying.”

(Y/n)’s expression softened and she folded her arms over each other as Buck continued his story.

“If he just reached out to my hand, I could’ve saved him.” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And for the longest time, I kept thinking—if I’d just been faster, if I’d gotten there a minute sooner, maybe he’d have grabbed my hand.” He looked up at (Y/n), his eyes searching hers. “He was the first person I had lost on the job. That kind of guilt? It doesn’t go away.”

(Y/n) sat down on the bench beside him, her voice quiet. “No, it doesn’t.”

Buck gave a faint nod, his lips twitching into a small, sad smile. “So when you yell at me for being reckless, I get it. I know what it’s like to lose someone. I’ve been there, too.”

She stared at him for a moment, the wall she’d built between them beginning to crack. “So that’s why you jump first without thinking… Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Buck shrugged his shoulders as a faint laugh fell from his lips. “Didn’t think it mattered. I’m usually the one driving everyone crazy, not the other way around.”

(Y/n) let out a soft huff of laughter despite herself, shaking her head. “You are insane, you know that?” Buck grinned, the first real smile she’d seen from him all day. “Yeah it’s not like you told me about twenty times earlier, but you keep me on my toes.” he admitted.

She rolled her eyes at his words, but there was no bite to it this time. They sat there for a moment. Buck’s gaze flicked to her ribs again. “Let me see.” he told her.

A confused expression appeared on her face, “What?” she asked. “The bruises” he said as he motioned his head to her side. “Can I take a look?” he then asked, more politely instead of a command.

(Y/n) hesitated for a second, but with a sigh, she lifted her shirt slightly. Buck winced as he saw the deep bruising. “Damn, (Y/n), that’s bad.” he concluded as he finally saw the wound from up close now.

“I’m pretty sure I'll live” she muttered. “You’re tougher than you look,” Buck said softly, when his eyes wandered from her wound back to her face. “Don’t you forget it,” she replied, her voice quieter now.

There was another silence, but it wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t filled with annoyance, awkwardness, or anger. Something shifted.

Her eyes were lingering on his face for a second, but before she could say more, Buck’s lips crashed into hers. His lips brushed first a bit roughly against hers, but became softer as his lips landed on hers. The kiss was gentle, a bit hesitant, but most of all: it caught her completely off guard.

(Y/n) froze for a second, making her hand press against his shoulder. But eventually she leaned into him as she let herself feel the moment. His hand moved up to her cheek as he brushed his thumb lightly over the skin as her hand that was on his shoulder moved to grab the short strands of hair on the back of his head.

They both pulled back, Buck searched her face nervously. Did he get the signs correct? “You okay?” he asked, a bit out of breath.

The confused and surprised look that had washed over (Y/n)’s face remained as he asked the question. But quickly merged into a faint smirk as she shook her head. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you.” she said, laughing. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Buck teased her, his voice soft as he brushed his thumb over her cheek one more time.

“You’re such an idiot.” she said, as she moved her hand from his neck down to his shirt again. She grabbed a fist full of his button up shirt, and pulled him closer again.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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