~Slow Updates~ Little stories: Lives Lived On a Page

There is Help on the Way, Please Remain Calm

I'm having a mental break down and after reading a bunch of angsty Buddie (Buck x Eddie) fanfiction and not reading anything that scratches that itch of having so many ideas for bad things happening bingo, here's some bullshit that I pulled out of my ass while I wait for some inspo for a good plot to beat me with the bat of enlightenment.

I bring you MF's, some "911" (on FOX (+ Hulu)) fanfiction with no plot other then angst and PTSD and all the so subtle and not so subtle clues Daddy FOX gives us in the show that Buddie is canon (eventually). Enjoy the product of my quickly deteriorating mental state. Fuck me *headbutts a wall*.

Buck's POV~

"Drowning." That's the only word I could pull from my conscience. Thirteen years more or less of school and I couldn't think of any other words then drowning. Pathetic.

"Any other thoughts? Pain, sadness, anger?", the therapist Maddie forced me to go to kicking and screaming, that I wasn't sure was a real therapist and not just some rando that waltzed in and applied for the position, asked me for the third time this week. I was getting sick of it. Though I always feel sick these days so I couldn't tell for sure. "Fear, disgust?"

"All of the above," I replied, shifting a little in the armchair that I wanted to throw at the woman in front of me. The chair that was so plush it made me wanna vomit. "Are we done yet? I'm fine." I wasn't anywhere near fine, but this therapist won't be either if this goes on any longer. Said "professional" sighed in, what my scarred mind interpreted as, disappointment. I don't blame her. I'm rather exhausting.

"Well, if you want to stop this session early, I can't stop you-" I cut her off by shooting up from the chair, snatching my bag from the floor beside it, and bolting out the door without another word. I was tired, though I always was no matter how much sleep I got, and I just wanted to lay down and relax. Plus, I smell horrible from the lack of showering. I just have to tough it out, I can't be afraid to get wet forever. And this goddamn "therapist" isn't helping at all. But I couldn't just skip therapy 'cause Maddie was keeping tabs with the "therapist". I'm such a hot mess, except for the hot. I lost that confidence when everyone around me made me realize how dumb it was. Even Maddie was losing faith.

I walked to my car, which was all the way across the lot. The closer spots shouldn't be wasted on me. Getting into my Jeep, I slammed the door, just barely missing my leg by a few inches. I felt kinda disappointed at that. Sighing, I looked at the little picture on the dash, snapped by Carla while we weren't looking. It was of Christopher, laying on the floor with me and Eddie, playing a video game on Eddies TV.

I glared at my happy face, the smile lines that made me look so much older, the stupid grin on my face as I won at whatever game it was, already lost to my memory. Eddie looked so happy too, unaware that just a month later, the same man he was laughing with would lose his son, almost getting him killed.  Little did Chris know that, a month later, he would be drowning in the water with the already deceased, scarring his young mind forever.

As the moment came back to me, I started to breathe heavily, as though I was breathing for the first time in while. The waves crashed into me yet again, slamming my body into the little game bar thing that Christopher was hidden under. The little game bar thing that wasn't good enough to stop him from being dragged away. I listened to the water rushing into my ears and nose and lungs and stomach and heart and brain. I was drowning, and I didn't know if I had the strength to pull myself out anymore.

~An hour later~

I managed to drive myself home. I have no idea how I did, with my body shaking and vision blurred by the nonexistent water in them. All I know is that I made it home without hurting anyone else. I hoped Athena didn't find out that I drove without a clear head, or the reason I didn't have a clear head in the first place. No one needed to get caught up in my shit.