Song-Based One Shots

Prodigal (9-1-1)

Waking up in the morning wasn't as exciting as it used to be. Not since it no longer consisted of a quick shower, a short workout, and dashing out of the loft with no breakfast because he knew Bobby would just be finishing up by the time he got there. No, now all he had to look forward to was a miserable shift of being the man behind every time. No one could stand to be near him anymore. Hen may have greeted him on his first shift back, but that was about it. Chimney wasn't outright hostile on anything (like the majority of the firehouse), but he wasn't talking to him, either. That may only be because of Maddie, though.

Eddie and Bobby, though... Nothing, not the Tsunami or the bomb, scared him as much as the thought of never having a relationship with either of them ever again. Eddie loved to taunt him with the fact that Buck's stupid choices affected Chris as well, and now he can't see him to try and make things right. He lost the right when he filed that fucking lawsuit. He fought for his job to get back to his family, but it turns out he didn't have them anyway.

Through the surgeries, the physical therapy, the hospital visits, through it all, the only person he could semi-consistently rely on was Maddie. But even she wasn't guaranteed because as far as he was aware, one wrong move could send her running, and he couldn't ruin Chim's life more than he already had.

A groan slipped through his lips as he forced himself. Wouldn't do him any good to be late when everyone was looking for every reason to get him fired.

He wasn't very hungry anymore, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get anything at the station, so he grabbed a protein bar before heading out.

The station was never quiet because people were always milling about, working on something, but there wasn't a lot of commotion happening when he walked in. Nobody spared him a glance as he went to the locker room to change. Changing into his uniform, he quickly glanced over the chore sheet Bobby must've slipped into his locker earlier. Recharge the battery packs, sharpen the saws, clean the dishes after meals, etc... There was no reason to interact with anyone as all of his tasks were for only one person (even the ones that weren't), but as he exited the locker room, he accidentally bumped shoulder with Johnson, another firefighter who'd joined shortly after Eddie had. He was always trying to find something to get mad at Buck for, thinking he was the better of the two and deserved his spot with the others.

"Well, look at who it is. The boy who couldn't handle a little rejection and cried to his lawyer."

Buck didn't want to deal with this right now, but he knew that no matter what he said, or if he said nothing, this wasn't going to end well. It never did.

"Why do you care? I didn't sue you."

That clearly wasn't the right thing to say— was there a right thing to say?—because the next thing he knew, fists were curled in his collar and his back was against the lockers.

"I care because even with your betrayal, they haven't replaced you in their little squad. I should be up there with them, but they won't let me because they're still holding out for you. So, what's so special about you, huh?"

Buck cast his eyes downward. "There's nothing special about me. They don't give a shit about me. Not sure if they ever did, but they sure as hell don't now. I'm sure if you tried harder, they'd let you join. You'd fit right in."

Again, he must've said the wrong thing because his head made sudden contact with the lockers again.

"You passing out the blam to try and keep yourself afloat these days?" He leaned back towards the door of the locker room, gesturing to the two of them. "Will everybody gather over here? He's got a mouth full of poison and some time to waste. We see you comin' down the road, crawlin' back home. I guess everything's going, everybody goes and now the only thing left is the way you left it. You had a good run and now you're chasin' regrets."

Then, something in him changed. An angry glint shined in his eyes as one of his hands slid from his collar to around his neck.

Now, Buck wasn't necessarily calm during this encounter, but he sure was starting to panic now that Johnson was squeezing enough to affect his breathing.

"Where we've been and where we're from, and you can do the same and go and get you some. But when the lights go out, you're sittin' all alone with no money, no friends, and nothing left to show. It's your own damn fault."

Throughout his spiel, Johnson continuously squeezed harder and harder until Buck couldn't breathe anymore and he was sure a bruise would be left behind. Clawing at the man's hand did nothing, but before he could go as far as to throw a punch, Bobby walked in.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Air suddenly flooded back into Buck's lungs, leaving him kneeling on the ground coughing.

"Nothing's going on, Captain. Just found him hacking up a lung and was going to check up on him."

The young firefighter didn't bother looking up at the interaction, instead rubbing at this abused throat. He was going to have to run by the store and pick up some concealer to cover the bruise. That is if Bobby didn't fire him on the spot for causing a disturbance.

"You call nearly killing a man checking on him? Go to my office and wait for me there. We will discuss your future at this house and this department in a minute."

With one last scathing glare, Johnson stalked out of the room. The room with glass walls meaning everyone could see what happened.

Lost in thought, Buck flinched hard when Bobby kneeled down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. The older man reeled back, shocked. He didn't want to think too hard about his reaction, blaming it on the shock of nearly dying.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Buck choked out, his voice hoarse and choppy and clearly causing him pain as he talked. "I'll get right to work."

Bobby shook his head. "No, you're not working today. I want you to get checked out by Hen or Chim, then go home and rest."

Buck also shook his head. "No, I can work. I'll stay out of the way and won't talk, I promise." He was starting to panic. After everything he'd done to get back to his family, he couldn't lose his job because one of his coworkers decided to be a jackass.

"You're not being fired, Buck. You've just been assaulted and nearly killed. You need to make sure there's no permanent damage and then rest. When you're better, you can come back. Once you've been checked out, go home." Leaving no room for discussion, the Captain stood up and left the locker room, shooing everyone away from the glass walls.

Buck just sat there for a minute. He didn't really believe anything would happen to Johnson, but he'd be lying if he said he felt ok. Talking s much as he did was hell on his throat and he was exhausted.

He quickly changed out of his uniform—that he'd worn for all of five minutes—and headed out to his car. He didn't bother to check in with Hen or Chim. He didn't want anyone to know what happened and at that point, he didn't care if there was any damage. It wasn't like he talked all that much these days, anyway.

Getting on the highway, he cranked up the music and let it drown out his thoughts the rest of the way home.