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demon-animatronic · 26 days

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9-1-1 Fanfic Masterlist:

Decided to make a masterlist for my 9-1-1 fics over on AO3. They will be under the cut because I’ll add the description and major tags. Not all the tags but the main ones at least.

Will be updated whenever I post something new.

Well, if Tumblr allows me to even find my own post on my own blog once it’s buried enough that is lmao.

Fair warning: As of posting this, the fics are mostly Bobby, Bathena, and a few with the reader included. There is one Buck fic where he says “Fuck You” to his parents and Bathena are there for a supportive presence then leave with him afterwards.

Most of these are also smut and very heavily NSFW too.

Let’s do Buck’s first.

Adult Adoption: LINK

Summary:

Margret and Phillip didn’t accept Buck being Bi and having Tommy as a boyfriend. So he walks out of Maddie and Chim’s house and planned on heading to the Nash house. To the people he knew accepted him with open arms long before he even came out. That cared about him without him having to hurt himself for their attention.

But on the way, he got into a car accident. This is after he wakes up in the hospital with Bathena at his side as his emergency contacts. Later on, he gets discharged and goes to Madney’s house to confront his parents with Bathena at his side.

Tags:

Bobby Nash is Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parent, Athena Grant is Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parent, Takes place after a car crash, Adult Adoption, Hurt/Comfort

WIP/Completed: Completed

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Have No Fear, LAFD is Here: LINK

Summary:

Exactly what you think it is: A continuation of the roleplay scene from that one epsiode.

After May leaves, Athena and Bobby get back to their roleplaying. Bobby is pretending to be unconscious from smoke inhalation and Athena knows what to do to get him conscious again.

Later on, he thanks the brave firewoman for saving his life.

Tags:

Sub Bobby Nash, Domme Athena Grant-Nash, sex on the kitchen counter, blowjob.

WIP/Completed: Completed

——————

I’m Alive but at What Cost?: LINK

Summary:

After the fire at the Grant-Nash house, Bobby wakes up in the hospital alone with two thoughts running through his head:

1. Athena was dead.

2. No one even wanted to visit him due to his failure.

But it’s what he deserves. Isn’t it?

Tags:

Angst, Father/son moment between Bobby and Buck, Bobby thinks Athena is dead from the house fire.

WIP/Completed: Completed

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Athena’s Special Apology: LINK

Summary:

The Grant-Nash house fire never happened. Instead, Athena woke up to find Bobby wasn’t at her side in bed. So she goes looking for him and decides to apologize for their fight. After waking him up, they go into the bedroom for some make up sex.

Tags:

Blowjob, vaginal sex, apology sex

WIP/Completed: Completed

——————

The Goddess and her Firefighter: LINK

Summary:

It’s another naughty day at the Grant-Nash house.

With his consent the night before, Athena treats Bobby like she drugged and kidnapped him after ‘dating’ for a little while. Deciding she must have the big, strong fireman all to herself.

Bobby, now awake and aware of what she was doing, plays along as if they had only gone on a few dates and were still trying things out as friends first. However, Athena doesn’t like hearing just ‘friends’ she’d prefer girlfriend! Or wife! After all, that’s what she was now. His girlfriend for as long as she allowed him to live.

Tags:

CNC - Consensual Non-Con, Sub Bobby, Domme Athena, Yandere roleplay, CNC cuddling, CNC RAPE, Safe word mention, mentions of drugs but they aren’t actually used just playing pretend.

WIP/Completed: Completed

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The Goddess’ Firefighter AU: LINK

Summary:

AU based on the oneshot directly above this one.

Athena realizes after a few dates that she didn’t just like Bobby. No. She LOVED him. And she was going to make sure he was obsessed with her in return.

Even if it meant kidnapping and holding him captive until he was the perfect future husband.

Tags:

Yandere Athena, Captive Bobby, kidnapping, drugged with sleeping pills, bondage, gags, and more when I eventually update it. But that’s mostly it for the first and currently only chapter.

WIP/Completed: WIP

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Nash Family Pet: LINK

Summary:

Bobby/Lady!Reader/Athena

For their 5th anniversary, Bobby and Athena decide to experiment some different things in the bedroom… with you.

With your consent, you quickly find yourself as the new family pet. They can spoil you one minute since they can’t have dogs or cats due to Athena’s allergies. And the next they can fuck you into their bed. And you find yourself enjoying every second of it. Even if it IS your own Captain and your best gal friend treating you like this.

Tags:

PET/PUPPY PLAY, Dom Bobby, Dom Athena, Sub Lady!Reader, Master/Pet, Smut, BDSM, threesome, collar/leash, Vet roleplay, blowjob, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, pussy worship.

WIP/Completed : WIP with like 15 more chapters planned out lmao

—————

Being my Captain’s Toy: LINK

Summary:

Lady!Reader/Bobby

You and Bobby were friends with benefits for some time now. No one else knows. Not even your besties Hen and Athena. Gradually your time together got more kinky.

After a rough call at the end of an already long shift, you head to Bobby’s place with him for some much needed stress relief. In the best way you both came to know so well. (For chapter 1. Chapter 2 has another plot happening.)

Tags: Dom Bobby, Sub reader, collar/leash, some pet play elements, friends with benefits, takes place in season 1: In-between his breakdown and the finale, vaginal sex, degradation, vibrator torture, cum delay/denial, doggie style

WIP/Completed: Completed unless I think of another idea.

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Can’t Fight the Moonlight: LINK

Summary:

When Bobby receives a message on his dating profile from the new police sergeant he had just gone to church with a few days earlier, he was ecstatic! Immediately agreeing to go to dinner with her that night even! Never once suspecting that he was going on a date with a vampire. After all, vampires aren’t real… right?

Meanwhile with her kid’s blessings, Athena decides to date again. Especially now that it’s been over a year since Michael was taken from them by a hunter that sent them on the run for their own safety. But now that they are settled into a hopefully permanent place, they felt they were ready to have a new man of the house.

And who better than a big strong fireman that had already caught Athena’s eyes?

Tags: Vampire Grant Family AU, Human Bobby, hypnosis, smut, supernatural abilities, biting, takes place between season 1 - mid of season 2.

WIP/Completed: WIP

#bobby nash #911 abc #911 fox #athena grant #911 on abc #bathena #911 #911 on fox #evan buckley #911 Buck

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devondespresso · 6 months

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Since We're Alive Now

T | 5843 words | also on ao3 (soon) | cw: referenced/implied self-image issues, swearing, brief references to physical injury, strong self criticism, and canon typical tone in some areas but with happy ending

April Fools from the @strangerthingswritersguild !! This fic is for @medusapelagia sorry its a littttttle late, I hope the extra 2k to the word count makes up for it dgaskdgkjhdkla

I picked the prompt "platonic hellcheer: fixing their hair", hopefully its the one you gave me or if not, i hope you at least enjoy this instead! 💕

Chrissy walked towards the hospital doors with her pink pocketbook in one hand and the black guitar case in the other. A man on his way out noticed her and held the door, and she hurried to catch up with a polite thanks. He nodded, distracted, looking once at the state of her appearance, twice at the guitar case with her. She ducked into the lobby and pretended not to notice.

Chrissy sped up to the reception desk and asked the lady there for a visitor’s pass, smiling like she wasn’t bothered by the stress acne dotting her forehead and cheeks and chin, like she didn’t know her hair looked terrible, unwashed and unbrushed. Severely unkept, without a good mirror to glance at before entering a room full of strangers that’d easily recognise her from photos on the news.

The woman looked at Chrissy, with an extra loaded glance to the guitar case, then looked down at her computer.

Chrissy moved her pocketbook over to also be held by the guitar case hand, then brought up her freed hand to check her watch.

“I’m very sorry, but visiting hours are closed for Mr. Munson. You can try again tomorrow, sweetie.”

Chrissy looked up at the lady sitting and looking back at her with a sugary sweet authority.

Chrissy checked her watch, and, yeah, she got the time right.

“Tomorrow, Miss Cunningham.” she smiled.

She checked the watch one more time, just to be sure she was right.

“What time tomorrow?”

“The visiting hours listed on the board for non-family members of special patents, now, Miss Cunningham, I’m very sorry, but there is a line.”

Chrissy looked across the room at the bulletin board, then back towards the two people behind her. She apologized to the people behind her, and slipped out of line towards the board.

She set the case gently on the chairs lined up along the wall, keeping it close and still on the chairs in front of her, and searched the board for the hours.

Special patients… special patients… none of them said “special”. There were no new lists either, but there was a new-ish note, just to the side of the regular described hours.

‘During these uncertain times, staff reserve the right to limit visitation for the protection of patients or their visitors. We thank you for your understanding.’

Chrissy stared at the note, reading it again to be sure.

‘uncertain times… limit visitation… protection of patients or their visitors.’

A bunch of freaking bull.

Chrissy huffed and leaned away from the bulletin board, glaring at the desk for a second before looking back at the guitar case on the seats.

She picked it back up gently, not wanting it hitting against anything despite the outside being scuffed to hell and back already, and looked back around the room for another way.

She wandered closer to the other end of the reception desk, and on the back wall, among photos and other nurses celebrating long careers at the hospital, was a name Chrissy recognized.

Margret Briggs, and very likely Robin's infamous “second favorite person on the planet”: Miss Maggie.

Chrissy went up to a different receptionist and politely got her attention.

“Excuse me, sorry, is Miss Maggie working today? I'm friends with Robin Buckley, she mentioned–”

“Oh, you just missed her– give me one second, sugar.” The receptionist got up and went straight to a door behind the counter, opening it to lean inside and yell, “Hey, Maggie! One of your demon children is in here!”

Chrissy startled a laugh, and the receptionist shared a playful smile. Miss Maggie came out the door a few seconds later.

“Friend of Buckley,” The receptionist hummed with a playful jab, “This one's all your's Maggie.”

“I think you mean ‘thank you Maggie’.” Miss Maggie said, then waved Chrissy over to the very end of the reception desk, meeting at the little employee doors attached to the counter.

“Hey, doll. Christine, right?” hummed, seemingly unfazed that they'd never met before.

“Chrissy, yeah, I– um… Has something happened to Eddie Munson? He’s not getting worse or anything, right?”

“Not that I know of– I’m not in charge of any of his charts but…” She threw a loaded glance at the far side of the reception desk, then back to Chrissy. “But I’ll check for you real quick.”

She dipped back behind the counter and to one of the unattended computers.

“Thank you,” she sighed, “He mentioned they were still keeping him for a while. For observation or something, but I figured that meant he'd still be, I don't know, relatively stable?”

“Every now and then we get patients the state wants to oversee, they don’t give us much good reason but it doesn’t hurt anything… The paperwork is a pain in the ass, but that’s nothing to do with the patient–” she paused, caught reading something on the screen. “Munson’s fine. I've got a note about some kind of incident with a visitor, though.”

She read it again with careful confusion, then stood up, “Looks like nothing serious, friends’ spat, but there's no way they mistake you for him.” She looked up from the computer and over again at the reception desk. “Did you come find me first, doll?”

“Um, no, I tried the front, and she said visiting hours were closed. Normally I never had any trouble…”

Miss Maggie’s face soured for a second, then she shrugged. “Well, at least that's an easy fix, then.”

She leaned over to grab a blank visitor's pass and began writing, asking Chrissy a couple questions to fill it out. She finished with a loopy signature and handed the pass to her. Chrissy moved her pocketbook over to the same hand as the guitar again, and took the pass.

“Thank you so much, I…”

“Not a problem, doll, you always come ask for me if you need something. It's a lot easier to help you kids when you aren't making a scene.” she laughed.

Chrissy smiled and thanked her again, waving to her and the receptionist before heading down Eddie's hall.

Chrissy reached the room and knocked on the door.

“No vacancy.” Eddie’s muffled voice said from the other side, and Chrissy huffed before opening and leaning in through the door.

“You sure there isn’t room for one more?”

“Heeeey, Chris!” he yelled, stretching out the word and throwing in the nickname like they’d known each other for way longer than a month or so. “Hey, you’re hair’s down, looks great.”

“Yeah, didn’t feel like doing it today.” She said at a more reasonable volume, but she still couldn’t help the huge smile tugging at her cheeks. She ducked into the room and closed the door behind her, only to turn back and find Eddie now sitting up properly with a deathgrip on the bed rails.

“Chrissy.” Eddie said, staring at the case before looking up at her face. “Did you go back?”

“You wanted your guitar, right?” she said, walking over to the other side of the room to put it away.

“Yeah, I asked Nancy to grab it, next time she was in the area, specifically because she wouldn’t have something making that a completely miserable visit.”

Chrissy set it down, holding back an eye-roll and sealing her mouth shut.

“I also told her it could wait if something came up–”

“Well something did,” she said, keeping her voice light, “Steve’s bites flared up and Nancy wanted to check in, so I told her I’d get it.”

“Then it could’ve waited, Chris.” he sighed, “No one’s robbing the half-broken satanist’s dumpster–”

“Maybe there's a chance I actually wanted to go.” she snapped, then paused and took a breath. She picked up a chair and dragged it over to the side of the bed. “Your trailer is– I don't know, nice to me. I told Nancy I'd get it, like, hours ago, and now I'm here before visiting hours are up.”

Eddie watched as she sat down, got that look on his face where you could tell he was thinking but couldn’t guess what. She looked back, and he nodded.

“Well, thanks, Chris.” he said quietly, dropping back to the half-up position of the hospital bed and looking back at his guitar. “Nice to have her back in the room with me again.” he smiled.

“She complained the whole way, y’know, you’re going to have to make it up to her.”

“Oh, I am, aren’t I?” he sighed, with convincing fake exasperation that was broken towards the end with a smile. “Most metal concert in the world and I couldn’t even use the real version of her.”

“Looks like you’ll just have to play it again.”

Eddie glanced over at her, sad for a second before turning back. “Yeah, probably should. Make better memories and all that recovery shit.”

“You should get the rest of Corroded Coffin in on it.” she said, resting her elbows on the bed. “Can’t be the most metal without them, too.”

“Christopher, you wound me.” he ‘gasped’, hand on his chest like clutching pearls, and had he not been sternly advised to rest Chrissy assumed he’d be halfway across the room right now. “Am I alone not metal enough to have that title?”

“Are you not more powerful with Jeff and Grant by your side?” she mused along, imitating his silly accent.

“I knew it, you like Jeff more than me!” he cried, flopping over to one side with the back of his hand over his temple.

Chrissy snorted and hummed a vague agreement.

“Scandalized, betrayed– the ultimate betrayal! The greatest betrayal known to man or woman!” He continued, flopping over to the other side, other hand doing the same pose, “By my best friend no less! And also by Chrissy!”

“You jerk.” she laughed, and laid her head down on her arms pillowed below her.

“Alright, I hear your pleas.” Eddie continued, dropping the arm and looking at her over-earnestly, “You can regain your title by admitting that I’m the most metal… twenty-year-old super-super senior with interdimensional bat bites that you’ve ever met.”

“Deal.” Chrissy laughed, “But a metalhead still belongs with his metal band.”

“Of course. Every good metal band needs someone vaguely louder and charged with murder.”

“And with long hair, of course.”

“Yes, exactly, poor Gareth’s at least a year or two away from anything like this.” he preened, “If one of the nurses doesn't chop it all off before then. Mrs. Mitchell called it a rat’s nest, and I don't really have a mirror here but I don't think she's that far off.” he laughed, fiddling with the end of a curl escaping over his shoulder. Chrissy’s gaze followed the strand up to the rest of the hair, and while, yeah, there was a mess of strands outside of their curls that tied into a matted mess, a lot of what the nurse called a ‘rats nest’ was just frizz. And untamed was not the same as irreparable.

“I can brush it real quick.” she hummed.

“Thought you said you didn’t wanna do hair today?”

“I didn’t want to do my hair.” she corrected, pulling a strand of hair down out in front of her face, twirling it “I kind of just… didn’t want to think about how I look.” She let it fall onto her face, then tucked it back again.

Eddie hummed and sunk down in the bed, hair bunching up across the bed and actively making the ‘rat’s nest’ look worse.

“Yeah, that's okay.” he muttered, then continued, “You don’t exactly brush out curly hair anyway, but thanks for offering, Chris. I’ll probably just have to buzz it again and start over. Or start back at an ugly ass bob.” he laughed, cynically.

“Or,” she said, sitting up to prove she's serious. “You could just let me try to get some tangles out first, because it's really not that bad.”

“Chris, seriously, it’s a mess. Don’t waste your time.”

“It’s never a waste of time.” she said, getting up to find the bag of hygiene stuff in the corner.

“Chris–”

“Ah ah ah, let me explain myself.”

Chrissy dug out a wide comb and then a small compact mirror from her purse before running back to the bed. She held out the mirror and leaned over next to him, pointing the mirror so they’d both be able to see.

“Chris…”

“Hold the mirror.”

Eddie reluctantly held the little compact mirror, much lower to be easier on his body, and pointed it at his face.

“Pretty sight, isn’t it.” he said sarcastically.

“Yup.” Chrissy said earnestly, pulling a bundle of hair out in front and combing through it with her fingers, and hoped Eddie would use her mirror to let himself see it, “It’s just a little tangled down here, I can work through that part for you, and the rest of this–” she combed through the dense fuzz gathering around the shape of the curls like a glow, “This is just extra frizzy from everything. It's like half the amount of tangles the nurse was thinking, just chopping it would be overkill even if it was that bad.”

“Okay, well if I've got a personal stylist, then.” he joked, snapping the compact closed and handing it back, “But only if I can return the favor.”

“Sure.” she smiled, “But you first, scoot over.”

Eddie nodded, taking the arm she offered for assistance in moving. “So on a scale of one to ten how close is this to a classic slumber party?”

“About a seven.”

“Oh, only a seven? What are we missing?”

She laughed and thought about it as she sat on the bed behind him. “Mm, we could use some music. Madonna, The Go-Gos, Cyndi Lauper, all your favorites.”

“Mhm, you know me so well.” He grumbled, playing annoyed.

Chrissy separated out a section of hair and started working through knots gently with her fingers. Eddie did his best to keep still, head only turning slightly, probably without realizing, as he looked around the room thinking of something to do. Not nervous, just allergic to being perfectly still.

“Your book’s on the table back here, if you're looking for it.”

Eddie only hummed so she could know he heard her.

It stayed quiet for a few more moments.

“How’d–”

He shifted slightly to sit differently, and a few strands of hair stayed caught in her hand and got pulled. On reflex he went to touch the spot that hurt, but his bigger injuries stopped him halfway.

“Sorry–”

“Its fine, my bad.” he huffed, then, purposely casual, “How’d it go with Carver?”

Chrissy shrugged. “I mean… he’s taking it better than I expected, I guess.”

“Not freaking out?”

“Nothing like that,” she hummed, “He was still upset in the beginning, kept trying to come up with excuses for me, ironically.”

Eddie hummed to show he was listening.

“So I told him even if none of this happened, I couldn’t stay with someone who wouldn’t listen to what I had to say about it all. And now he’s just… quiet, I think.”

Eddie turned his head slightly to talk to her. “Quiet as in he stopped the conversation? Or stopped talking to you… at all?”

“He still talks to people, and me, if we have anything to talk about, but he’s… lost in thought, I guess, most of the time. Unless there's some special reason to get happy.”

“Huh.” he said, leaning over in a thinking position, forgetting he was supposed to stay still.

Chrissy set the comb down on the bed beside her.

“Yeah, it’s pretty strange. He was always so expressive even before we got together, and I know some of the distance is normal breakup stuff, but since talking with me… it’s like there’s something… actually wrong.”

Eddie shook his head. “I think he’s thinking. Nothing wrong with him, not that you did, or– You did it, but not…” Eddie paused for another second to get his speech straight, then sat back up and turned to her. “He’s thinking about everything. What he did, and what it means now. Now that he can’t tell himself it’s what you would’ve wanted. And if the bastard's lucky–” he cringed right after he said it, then recovered with a breath. “If we’re lucky, he’s questioning what he wants to believe about other people, now that you’re more person than what he was expecting.”

Chrissy nodded, and gestured back to his hair.

“Right, sorry.” he said, sitting straight again.

“You’re fine.” she hummed. “That’s good, then, if he really is thinking things through. He never seemed like the type of person to want to hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, turns out you can’t really judge someone until the world is ending.”

“It’s not that. You can’t judge someone under that kind of pressure.” she said, gently pulling excess strands out of a particularly big knot. “It’s more like… he has what it takes to do good, and he just… didn’t. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t know him well enough, but I’d like to think he’s going to get better.”

“Lovely optimism, but I wouldn't hold your breath.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Eddie shrugged, and it was quiet for a good few moments before Eddie started talking again.

“I’d imagine as far as breakups go, this one’s gotta be one of the wildest rides.” he said, and Chrissy could hear the stupid grin he had to be wearing.

“Yeah, it hasn’t exactly been the fairytale romance he was hoping for.”

“God, yeah, he’d probably have a better time in a fucking Shakespearean tragedy. Like, imagine how bad you gotta screw up for your ex to start shooting the shit with the murder suspect.”

Chrissy cracked a smile. “Excuse you, I am willingly shooting the shit with a loud fantasy-loving dork.”

“Augh, you wound me, Christine!” he yelled, throwing his head back, throwing a limp wrist up over his forehead again.

She burst out into a real laugh and pushed him back into place again. “I might for real if you don’t sit still.”

“Again with you and your ruthless betrayals.” he joked, sitting back up again. “Are you this cruel with all your clients?”

“No, only the girls at the slumber party who do too much boy talk.”

“Oh my god, what jackass brings up boyfriends at a slumber party?”

“If you find him, let me know.”

Eddie straightened up, arm coming up as far as he could go in and attempted a mock salute. “When I find the culprit, dear lady, he shall be banished!”

She giggled at his antics, gently parting his hair into two fluffy sections. “Not banished. I just need to let him know his hair’s all set.” Then she tossed both halves of his brushed hair over his shoulder for him to see.

“Holy shit, are you sure this is better?” He laughed, patting the frizz down.

“It's not matted, that’s all I promised.”

“You’ve tricked me, this was your grand scheme! You lured me in with your fabulous looks and promises of detangling, only to trap me in a deal, all to get me to do your hair!”

“Oh yes, it was my plan all along!” she mused with him, getting off the bed to grab her pocketbook.

Chrissy dug around until she found the small hairbrush she kept in there. It wasn’t exactly the best tool, but it’d be enough.

They settled back onto the bed, Eddie sitting more comfortably by the head of the bed, legs folded in so Chrissy could sit close enough in front. Eddie took the pocket hairbrush and a section of her hair and started working through the few tangles gently.

It stayed peacefully quiet for a good few minutes as he focused on not pulling any hair. Then, when there was more smooth hair than knots and he seemed more confident that he wouldn’t hurt her, he started talking.

“If bringing up a guy again won’t get me banished…”

“Of course it won’t.” she laughed, turning slightly to give him her attention.

But he stayed quiet, brushing her hair like he hadn’t heard her.

“It’s a staple of slumber parties, actually,” she continued, less energetic but just as soft, “Madonna, boy talk, and just… regular talk. Secrets, if we want to.”

Eddie hummed, and stayed quiet a second longer.

“Did… have you talked with Harrington lately?”

“Yeah, he’s okay, said he was taking it easier after the flare up as a precaution.”

Eddie hummed absently, stuck in a thought as he ran the brush needlessly through untangled hair, like either he hadn’t thought to stop or wanted to pretend he didn’t.

“Has anyone told you about me? What kind of person I am?”

“I don’t think so?” She turned around, “You’re talking about our friends? Not assholes that don’t know you?”

“No, yeah, definitely– definitely people that know me.” he laughed, cynically.

“Who’s talking shit about you?”

“Nobody’s talking–”

“You’re saying it like you're waiting for someone to drop some dirt on you!”

“I’ve got the dirt on me!” he yelled, then took a breath and lowered his voice. “Harrington just figured me out. And it pissed him off.”

Chrissy searched his expression for any more context, but Eddie was too busy sifting through it himself to leave any to share. Chrissy put a hand on his knee, and waited.

He shook his head and looked away.

“I’m a hypocrite.” he said, then looked up and away to continue with a mocking melody. “The goon that talks himself up as something more honorable than he is, could even dream of being. A spineless rat wearing purpose like a costume.” His wide cynical smile slowly shut and clamped down into a pressed frown. “That sort of thing.”

“Did he say that?”

“No.” Eddie finally looked at her again, all fronts of humor lost. “During that whole fucked-up adventure, alternate dimensions and evil wizards and shit, I learned about myself, that I'm a coward at best. And at worst? I’m a delusional coward playing hero to make myself feel better.”

Finishing his declaration with a concrete certainty. Like he had it all figured out. Like the picture he painted looked anything like him. Like she wouldn’t have slapped him sick for saying that about anyone else.

“So now you know. He doesn’t strike me as a gossip, but, uh… I'd rather you hear it from me. I am nothing if not honest about it now.” he picked up the hairbrush again, gesturing for her to turn around so he could ‘finish’ brushing her hair.

Chrissy turned around again, folding her knees in crisscrossed, and making sure to look at the blank wall across from them.

“So he didn’t tell you that, you decided it. And Steve got mad that you said it.”

“He made me realize it all. He was just mad at my stupid decisions.” Eddie continued, relaxing as he wove his story to the empty room, but still not loud enough to reach anyone else. “I was dropped into a real-life quest, and with real shit on the line, I realized all I think to do is run. I told him, in the middle of it, I didn’t know why– I thought I’d accepted it. So I could go ahead and fix myself before it cost us anything.”

Chrissy could feel the bed shift as he moved to sit another way again, set the hairbrush he was using on the bed beside her.

“But I hadn’t, I just wanted… I wanted to prove it wasn’t there. And he had to have known, he told me not to– but I saw my chance and I took it anyway.

“You mean the bats.”

“I mean jumping into a volcano so I could be a martyr.”

“Buying time for Dustin and the others.”

She waited for his response, but he said nothing, and brushed at the ends of her hair.

Chrissy kept her gaze on the wall in front of her, tracing the designs of the wallpaper so she wouldn’t turn around. “You couldn’t know how necessary it was in the moment. You might’ve been the only reason it worked."

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?”

“That I didn’t want to survive!” he yelled again, then the brush hit the hospital floor. “My body did but my mind wanted to be a hero, wanted to be Obi-wan, Aragorn, Kas, anybody that wasn’t too scared to help, pulled along for the ride because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, with nothing to add to the group of heroes.”

Quiet rang out behind her, and Chrissy made sure to keep her gaze stuck to the wall against her desire to look and understand. Instead, she slid a hand out behind her, palm up as an offer, and Eddie took it, cold hand taking hers quietly.

“You’re being too hard on yourself–”

“I nearly killed myself trying to be something I’m not! And isn’t that fucking pathetic? To try and die to be like a storybook hero– I would’ve been fine if all that storybook shit was a bunch of bull, I could’ve watched the world be more depressing than fantasy, but–” he sighed, his voice starting to shake, “But he’s real. Dragged my sorry ass out of hell and doesn’t even have the decency to be a real dick about it. I just–”

He cut himself off with a big breath. Chrissy squeezed his hand, and he huffed, maybe sad, or maybe a laugh. It was quiet for a second more, and then a weight eased onto her shoulder. She looked over slightly to find Eddie resting the crown of his head against her sweater, and he took a a weak inhale to steady his voice.

“Since, like, second grade I imagined that, yeah, if I were faced with an evil wizard, or an army of minions, or whatever fantasy shit I could play as– I was sure I’d be the type to stand up and fight it, because I knew fear, I knew strategy and combat better than any asshole on the basketball team, and once Hellfire started to be more freshman than anything I figured I’d be the Aragorn to the Hobbits– but now that it’s happened? Playing is the only thing I seem to know how to do. When I wasn’t running for my damn life, I was playing shit like a game, picked the piece I wanted without telling anyone, and then got surprised when life doesn't work like that, and the party already had its hero.”

“And he knows. He can fucking smell it on me, maybe they all can. That i wanted that role so bad i missed the fucking point of it. And now that I’ve accepted it, actually accepted it… I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t lie to the guys, to Dustin, keep playing some kind of bravery now that I know it’s all bull– I can’t host a campaign for Dustin if he knows the kind of person I am when that shit is real, every round of combat he’d know what a hypocrite I am. Maybe I should just stop–”

“Hey, hey,” she turned around, too fast and so uncoordinated that she nearly hit his leg, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m stopping you there.”

“If you had seen me, Chris, you’d believe me.” he muttered back, matching her volume, “Probably wouldn’t hate me, I don’t really know if you… do that shit.” He cracked a smile, almost like a little laugh at the awkward wording.

“Well, even if I was humanly capable of hating people, because hate is such a strong word,” she smiled, leaning into the joke, and Eddie huffed, “I still don’t think I’d hate you for this.”

“That is probably… the most Chrissy answer possible.” he laughed again and wiped at his face.

“Yeah, maybe…” She let out a deep breath, “You want to know what I think?”

Eddie hesitated, sulking and thinking for a few moments, then shrugged. “Yeah. Color me curious.”

Chrissy nodded and took a moment to put her thoughts together. Because she could give a good pap-talk, could find something nice to say about every girl in her squad, but Eddie would immediately be able to tell if she tried a pep-talk, and he’d hate it. So Chrissy spoke slowly.

“I think… you’ve taken a picture of yourself, and you’re treating it like a mirror.”

Eddie looked up, eyes questioning for a second before opening his mouth to ask, for good reason, because pictures and mirrors were a Chrissy problem, because Eddie used that metaphor not even a week ago with her. But Chrissy held up a hand between them, asking for just another second to explain further, because Eddie didn't have the pictures or mirrors specifically, but metaphors and analogies were an Eddie language.

“You have a picture of yourself… and it’s real– and other people can see it, if you show it to them. It's a picture, not a painting– But it’s one picture, and you’ve stared at it too long–”

Eddie caught the connection but didn't like it, leaning out of the conversation with a huff, looking off to the side, far away from her face, with well-restrained frustration.

Chrissy grabbed his shirt and pulled him back over, making sure he’d look her in the eye.

“You stare at it too long, because someone back down the line told you you had to,” she gritted out, “That if you just stare at these pictures hard enough, you'll finally figure out what everyone else sees, and you’ll finally find what’s wrong with you.”

Eddie didn’t look away but she clearly hit a nerve, so Chrissy dropped her hand, softened her tone.

“Because if you can find what’s wrong with you, you can fix it, and then you’ll be happy. Or… better. Or deserving– whatever it is. But it’s a picture. And even if it’s showing you everything as it is, even if you're right about everything you’re seeing, it's just one side of you, and it could never capture all that you are.”

Eddie sat and stared at her, expression guarded, but only in that way that you couldn't control. The urge to stay unbothered or undecided as you thought, to pause the moment so you could take in everything and breathe.

Eddie nodded, barely there, just a slight move on an inhale. His eyes flicked back and forth between her and the walls before his face soured, slightly to keep that same guard up, and he ducked his head down into both hands, a curtain of frizzy hair covering his face.

Chrissy waited for a second, but he didn’t move. So she set a hand out on the bed in front of him, and he shifted one hand free from propping himself up, grabbing hers on the bed and holding on.

“The people that love you most will always see more than a picture of you. How you look when you’re doing things that you love, how you help people that are lost in their worst nightmares.” She smiled, the memory both sweet and sad, “I remember thinking– with everything going on, the one thing I remember best when I first really talked to you? Was how bright you are.”

Chrissy smiled, looking down, and brushed her thumb absently against the big chrome rings adorning the hand still holding hers.

“You've got the whole… all black, tough guy, stomping on tables, big denim and leather but when you take that off you're just… so bright. You know you're a lighthouse but you're also a candle, keeping the light around when the powers gone out. You couldn't know what was going on with me, but you knew there was something, and you cared enough to make me laugh in spite of it, just by being yourself. You don’t know how to take down the evil wizards or fight an army of monsters because a group of heroes is not who you fight for. And to be useful to someone else’s story was never what made people love you.”

Chrissy paused for a breath or two, then lowered the crown of her head to rest on top of his.

“If I had died, my last wish would've been to go back to your trailer’s living room. Or that bench beyond the field, or to sit at the lunch table full of people that you make an escape for, whatever place that'd bring me back to that glowing life in you. And if you can’t see how beautiful you are, I’ll be your eyes until you do.”

Eddie kept a death grip on her hand, a grip she tried to match, and a tear or two ran down her face. She wiped them away with her one free hand, and with her other she loosened her grip, then moved the thumb side to side, softly brushing against the skin on the back of his hand.

“Cheater.” Eddie mumbled to the bed, voice raw and quiet. “S’plagiarism. Half your damn speech.”

She huffed lightly at his joke, and smiled. “Well, I still mean it.”

“Of course you do.” he whispered, then shifted his head a bit. Chrissy sat up straighter again to give him space to move, but he didn't shift again.

Eddie's thumb started tracing the back of her hand, repeating the motion she unconsciously stopped. Chrissy started it again, and put her head back on top of Eddie's.

“I don't think plagiarism is the right word. Maybe inspiration.”

Eddie laughed.

“Yeah, y’pulled calling a grown-ass man ‘beautiful’ out of thin air.”

“What, do you not think you're pretty, Munson?” she challenged, ducking her head down to try and peer through his hair.

“Oh, I'm just ‘pretty’ now?”

Chrissy bursted out laughing, and Eddie shot up, pushing back some of his hair to play into the theatrics even more.

“What happened to ‘beautiful’, Chrissington, hm?”

“You know what I mean–” she giggled.

“No, no, I see how it is–”

“You're beauuuuuutiful~~”

“Noooooope.”

“Gooooorgeous~~”

“You're flattery cannot convince me–”

“Ooo, ravishing!!”

“Oh my god–” he made a dumb gagging sound, sticking out his tongue and everything.

“Oh, that's where we draw the line.”

“Yes, god, never say that about me again.”

“Ravishing~~”

“NOPE!” He yelled, slapping hands over his ears, “Can't hear you!”

“Don't yell!” she hissed through another huge smile.

“WHAT? I CAN'T–”

“Stoooop,” she pulled his hands off his head with a laugh, “You’re going to get me kicked out.”

“Oh, sorry, forgot breaking the rules was a fate worse than death.”

“Stolen metaphors aside,” she said, coming back down from the chaos, “You’ll trust me on this, right?”

Eddie considered, catching his breath, residual joy and tears both lingering on his face.

“Y’know, instinct says not to, but…” he hummed, then cracked a small smile, “Flattery works incredibly well with me, so I’ll take your word on it.”

#chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #chrissy and eddie #eddie and chrissy #platonic hellcheer #stranger things #stwg #devon's writings #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #hellcheer fanfic

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thetangycheesemanwithaplan · 7 months

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911 + Text Posts pt72/?

#911 #911 abc #911+text posts #evan buckley #911 incorrect quotes #margret buckley #phillip buckley #Buckley Family #dr copeland #im sorry i just dont think they would have been good in therapy even tho they agrreed to it #i just dont like them 😂#i was gunna make this buddie but they wouldnt see the other as needing to be fixed #theyd accept each other as they are and love unconditionally

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buddiedaydreamer911 · 5 months

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i feel like FOX was trying to give the Diaz parents and the Buckley parents redemptions and ABC is going to be like “hahahahhhhahaaha no❤️”

because so far we got Philip Buckley talking to Buck via voicemail in a way that just makes you wanna punch him in the face, and Margret Buckley made THAT look towards Philip once Buck outed himself to everyone by having soot on his face.

the Buckley parents alone are already a problem, and i’m very curious to know how that’s going to play out.

we have yet to see how the Diaz parents are going to be, but if we’re right and The Will is going to be mentioned……

let’s just say i’m on ABC’s side and i’m ready to never forgive either set of parents.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc #911 buddie #buck and eddie #oliver stark #ryan guzman #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 speculation #i hate the diaz parents #i hate the buckley parents #no redemption for either #abc said no❤️#ready to hate them but scared to see it happen

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laundryandtaxesworld · 5 months

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There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

—

Viral encephalitis.

Huh.

Buck’s heard of encephalitis, (mostly from watching Hannibal, but that’s not here nor there.)

It’s just he’s never seen someone have a case so close to him.

It was scary. He’s glad that Chimney is okay and resting at home after his discharge, but he can’t shake the feeling of what if.

He shook his head going down the what if path would do no help. Chimney was alive. That was the most important thing. Maddie was finally married and Jee Yun had her father back.

Plates clattered as Bobby set down steaming Mac N’ Cheese. It has been four months since Chimney got sick and a week since he got back from his honeymoon.

“So how was the honeymoon?” asked Bobby once everyone settled into dinner.

“It was nice, quiet. Exactly what I wanted when I said no bachelor party.” Chimney looked at Buck who ducked his head.

“That’s nice, at least it’s not a capsized cruise ship.” Bobby joked. Just then the alarm went off. Everyone shoveled food into their mouths before they ran to grab their turnout gear and hop into the truck.

The patient was sneezing when Buck carried them out of the fire. Since Chimney everyone’s been more wary of strange people sneezing on them, but with the smoke it wasn’t much of a surprise for Buck.

By the time shift had ended and the exhaustion that he felt after fighting multiple house fires in one neighborhood, he flopped into his bed.

Three days later he awoke with a blinding headache. He groaned. He seriously had to get the flu now?! His limbs felt heavy and he rolled over his head burrowing deeper into his pillow.

“Siri,” croaked Buck, “Text Bobby.”

“What would you like the message to say?”

“Sick, flu. Out of work.”

“The message says ‘Sick, flu. Out of work.’ Would you like to send the message?”

“Yes.”

“Message Sent.” Buck grumbled and pulled the covers up over his head. He could ride out the flu and then everything would be back to normal.

Bobby’s phone pinged as he got into the fire station. He unlocked his phone and looked at the message.

Buck: Sick, flu. Out of work.

He typed back.

Bobby: Thanks for the heads up. Get rest and drink lots of water.

Bobby climbed the stairs and walked into his office. He dropped his go-bag on one of the chairs and went to call in a firefighter to cover Buck’s shift.

Soon the rest of the A-shift plus Dawson (Buck’s cover) filed in and got ready for the shift ahead. Eddie kept looking around even though he knew Buck was out sick.

“Eddie, stop pouting. You’ll see him in a few days.”

“Few days is too many.” grumbled Eddie. Hen chuckled fondly, but stayed silent. The siren blared as they finished breakfast.

“Evan,” someone whispered, “wake up. Evan wake up!” Buck’s eye snapped open. His eyes frantically searched for the voice, but they just landed on his empty apartment.

“Hello?” He called out. “Who's there?” Buck struggled as he sat up in bed.

“Evan.” Buck’s head whirled around. Margret Buckley was looking back at him.

“Mo-Mom what are you doing here?”

“Evan, oh Evan. Thank you. Thank you!” Margret cried as she quickly walked towards Buck. Buck sat there stunned as Margret softly held his face in her hands, looking at him with love.

“For what?” he asked softly.

“Daniel.You saved him, just like you were made for.” Buck looked back at Margret. Gone were the eyes of love, he briefly saw. They were replaced with the eyes he grew up with. Cold and uncaring.

“Just like I was made for.” whispered Buck. Margret’s hands suddenly disappeared and Buck was left alone in his cold bedroom, his heart breaking once again.

Buck’s eyes cracked open, his head continuing to pound and a layer of sweat up and down his whole body. His throat parched as he yet to drink water.

“Buck, why are you still in bed?” Buck turned his head to see Maddie standing in his doorway.

“m’ sick,” Buck replied.

“Well that never stopped you before, did it?” Maddie asked, more angry than he’s heard her before.

“What?” His body protested as he shifted to get into a somewhat upright position. She walked around to the foot of his bed and his body followed.

“It’s never stopped you before, Evan. Why is it stopping you now?”

“What am I supposed to be doing?” Buck tried to rack his muddled brain to see what he was forgetting.

“Work.” Maddie said almost venomously.

“Work,” Buck paused, “But I'm sick.” Maddie looked at him. Really looked at him. Her eyes raked over his pathetic sweating hunched form.

“They’ll replace you, you know. You’re out sick once, they get a cover… they like the cover more,” Maddie trailed off.

“No, no they won’t. I’m sick. I have a reason to be out.”

“But they will,” Maddie harshly whispered in his ear.” Buck jumped back, fumbling in bed wondering how fast Maddie was to get right next to him.

“No, no no no.” Buck tucked his head into his hands to try and stave off the pulse that was building between his eyes. Buck took a deep breath. When he looked up again Maddie was gone. Did he fall asleep? What’s going on? He layed back down in his bed and looked outside. Night. Did he waste away in bed all day? He needed to call Eddie.

After their monster of a shift Eddie dragged his feet as he opened his door. Video game sounds floated to his ears as he heard Chris talking to his friends on the headset.

“Chris, I’m home!” He got a hum of acknowledgment from Chris who went right back to playing his game. He sighed as he took off his boots and padded into the house.

He shucked off his clothes as he turned on the shower. His muscles relaxed as the warm water turned brown with all soot still on him. He finally took a deep breath, it felt like the first one he took all day. Buck has yet to call him, but that was warranted as he probably was asleep trying to get over the flu.

Eddie pulled out leftovers as he had no energy to even try and cook tonight. In just a few minutes, day old pasta was plated along with a salad and bread.

“Chris, dinner!” Eddie put the plates on the table as Chris pulled out his chair. Eddie came back with water and placed it on the table. Chris grabbed his fork and started eating.

“How was school?” Eddie asked as he took a sip of water.

“It was fine. I have a science project about the solar system coming up.”

“That’s cool. Is it the whole solar system?”

“Yeah we just have to make a model. How was work?” Eddie finished chewing his salad before responding.

“It was okay. Some house fires here and there and it was hard with Buck being sick.”

“What’s he sick with?”

“He said the flu, so he should be okay to come over on Friday. Chris hummed as they sat in comfortable silence.

Buck’s eyes snapped open and wearily looked at the clock. 2:30 AM. His muscles felt extremely painful as he tried to move them under his sweat soaked sheets. Maybe he had a fever. He should find out. Slowly and painfully he got into a sitting position. His stomach protested the sudden change in orientation.

“Buckaroo, I don’t think you should be up right now. You’re sick.” Buck looked around his dark room to see where Athena was.

“Athena? What are you doing here?” His eyes scanned over the dresser and window.

“I’m here to see you.”

“Why?” Buck croaked.

“Because, I needed to make sure you were okay.” A soft hand stroked his hair. Buck hummed.

“I’m okay. Just the flu.”

“Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you save him?” Athena’s voice went cold. No longer the welcoming presence that he felt seconds before.

“Wh-who?” Buck cracked his eyes open. Athena was sitting at the foot of his bed, looking just a bit blurry.

“My husband. Why is he in the ground and you're still here?

“Bo-Bobby’s dead?” Buck’s brain was rebooting with the new information, scrambling to remember what he forgot.

“Yes, he’s dead because you couldn’t save him. All the showing off and running into danger and you couldn’t do the one thing you were made for.” Athena sneered.

“I’m sorry, ” Buck whispered, “I’ll be better.”

“Sorry won’t fix this Buck. Nothing will fix this.” Tears leaked out of Buck’s eyes as he realized he was the reason why Bobby was dead. The captain he thought of as a father was dead, because of him. He couldn’t save Daniel and he couldn’t save Bobby.

“Athena I-“ Buck started before he realized he was once again alone and sunlight was seeping through the windows. When did the sun rise?

Bobby hummed as he flipped the pancakes he was going to surprise Athena with this morning. He slipped the pancakes onto a plate the moment Athena walked out of their bedroom.

“Smells wonderful.” Athena hummed as she kissed Bobby on his cheek and went to wash her hands.

“Just for you.” They ate in comfortable silence.

“Any plans for today?”

“Probably clean up around here and text Buck to see how he's faring with the flu.”

“Hmm, flu season. You should drop off some chicken noodle soup. You know how that boy is when he’s sick.” Bobby chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah I do. Hopefully he’s at least drunk water,” Bobby paused thinking, “yeah I should make some chicken noodle soup for him. Athena kisses Bobby goodbye. Bobby got to work on chicken noodle soup for his pseudo son.

“Evan. It’s time to get up.” Buck rolled over and chased the voice of someone that was lost in his memory.

“Hmm?”

“Evan, it’s time to get up.” Buck opened his bleary eyes. Sleep still clinging to his brain. Rough hands traced his cheek and stroked his hair.

“Evan, it’s time to get up.” Buck blinked to get a clear picture of who was with him, when he saw the short and slowly graying hair of his brother, Daniel.

“Hey Ev, you with me?” Daniel asked, stroking Buck’s curls softly.

“Yeah, yeah I'm with you.”

“Good, I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

“I’m up.” Buck made movements to sit up but was slowly pushed back down by Daniel.

“No need to sit up. I don’t want to make you injured further. ” Injured? When did he get injured?

“S’okay. I feel fine.” Daniel just smiled at him, withdrawing his hands and Buck missed the repetitive movements. Daniel looked away from Buck. Daniel’s smile dropped as he looked out the window, the LA skyline being overshadowed by the blaring sun.

“Evan,” Daniel’s tone was serious, “I think it’s time you get up.”

“I am up,” Buck said softly.

“Yeah, I know Ev,” Daniel looked back at Buck with a sad smile, “but you do really need to get up now.”

“Dan-“ Daniel stood up suddenly and walked towards the head of the bed.

“You need to wake up Evan!” Daniel cried, “Please, you need to wake up.”

Bobby hummed as he grabbed the tupperware bowls out of his car. He quickly locked his car and sped up to Buck’s apartment. When faced with Buck’s door, he knocked. He waited. He knocked again and waited. Third time around, he was struggling to grab his key ring out of his coat pocket.

Bobby pushed open the door and walked into the quiet apartment.

“Buck?” Bobby called out. Bobby set down the soup on top of the island kitchen and glanced around to see if he could see the younger man. Not seeing the 6’2 figure downstairs, he started up the stairs towards the loft.

“Buck?” he called out once again. At the top of the stairs Bobby’s eyes shifted towards the bed. There he was. Buck was tangled up in his bedsheets. Bobby softly smiled and moved to wake him up so he could at least eat something. The closer Bobby got to Buck’s sleeping figure, the more worried he got. Sweat soaked Buck’s night clothes and sheets under him and his face was flushed red.

“Dan-“ Buck called out before scrunching his eyebrows.

“Buck? Are you with me?” Bobby asked. He walked up next to the man and pressed his hand to Buck’s forward. It was burning up.

“Buck! You need to wake up for me!!” Bobby grabbed the younger man’s shoulders and shook but Buck made no movement of waking up. Bobby hastily grabbed his phone as he dialed 9-1-1 and ran for the bathroom as the phone rung.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” Bobby shoved the thermometer he found into Buck’s mouth.

“I’m at my friend's apartment and he’s burning up with a fever!” Beep. Beep. 106 degrees fahrenheit. Shit.

“What’s the temperature?” asked the dispatcher.

“106! Hurry, I don’t know how long he’s been like this!”

“What’s the address sir?”

“405 Rose Drive. It’s apartment 4B.”

“An ambulance is on its way, try and get a cloth with cold water to try and cool the body down.” With that Bobby was the only one on the line. Bobby ran to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold tap water. He wrung it out and ran back to Buck. He pressed it to Buck’s forehead and Buck grumbled in his comfort.

“I know, I know. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Bobby whispered assurances more to himself than to Buck. Soon after Bobby heard multiple footsteps downstairs. It was all a blur for Bobby. It was the 133 that had responded, he recognized the paramedics. One of them triaged Buck as the other prepared to get him to the ambulance. They swiftly got out and into the ambulance.

“Are you riding with him to the hospital?”

“Yes.” Bobby whispered. How many times would he have to see Buck in pain? He always hated it.

As Buck was wheeled back, Bobby got to updating and calling everyone. Thirty minutes later Maddie, Chimney and Eddie came flying through the hospital doors with Athena and Hen just behind them.

“How is he? Has the doctor said anything?” Maddie asked frantically.

“No, nothing yet. Probably should make yourself comfortable. We might be here awhile.” Everyone nodded and shifted into seats. They knew this hospital too damn well and Bobby hated it. Before Buck they never went past the glass doors. Now they spend too much time past the glass doors.

A doctor with a clipboard walked into the waiting room and everyone was on high alert.

“Family of Evan Buckley?” Maddie shot up.

“Yes, I’m his sister.”

“Would you like to come back and talk with me?”

“No, they’re also family,” she said gesturing toward the 118, “whatever you have to say you can say it infront of them.”

“Okay then,” the doctor glanced at the chart, “your brother has viral encephalitis. It’s a pretty bad case of it and we’re lucky he was treated when he was or if could’ve been much worse. He’s awake, so you can see him. He’s in room 312 and the nurse will come in later to talk about a recovery plan.” With that the doctor escorted them to Buck’s room and left. Maddie looked in the room and saw Buck’s eyes blink open.

“Hey Mads,” Buck said softly as his eyes landed on his sister. Maddie rushed forward and hugged him as hard as she could without aggravating his IV of antibiotics.

“Flu my ass, don't ever do that to me again.” Buck chuckled and hugged back.

“I’ll try Mads.”

“I love you Ev. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Mads.”

“I’m glad you're okay, Buck.”

“Thanks to you Bobby. Why were you at my apartment anyway?”

“Dropping off some chicken noodle soup. Which now needs to be thrown away because you're not getting food poisoning on top of this.”

“I love that chicken noodle soup. It really is life saving.”

“Whatever you say, Buck. I’m just glad you're with us.” Buck yawned and Bobby took that as his sign to let Buck rest. Bobby stepped out of the room and thanked god that he decided to make that chicken soup.

#evan buckley #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #bobby nash #athena grant #maddie buckley #chimney han #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #hen wilson #daniel buckley #fanfiction

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