"You really gave us a scare there, cap!" Buck puts his hand on Bobby's hand as they look at each other, smiles on their faces and nervous giggles leaving their mouths. "I wasn't worried! This is cap we're talkin' about," Hen states confidently. "I was. I was worried," Chinney lets out with a sigh of relief.
Buck sat there, in the hospital room chair, and relished in the relief of his father being a live and well. He remembers what it was like, sitting in the waiting room with tears in his eyes and adrenaline running through his veins as the unknown crept up on them with every passing second. He remembers holding both Eddie's hand, and Tommy's hand at one point: probably crushing their bones in the process. Buck and Bobby may have had their moments in the past, but nothing would ever break their bond.
So, sitting there, in his hospital room, chatting up a storm with him as they silently thanked the higher power for letting them keep Bobby.
"Thank you, for being here," Bobby pipes up. Buck looks into Bobby's blue eyes and smiles, "of course, cap. Couldn't imagine being somewhere else." Buck stares for a minute longer, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of unfamiliarity and change. Buck's grin doesn't weaver but he does feel different. Maybe he was just so nerve racked to see and or think properly.
"Can't wait to get you back in the captain's chair, you know," Buck says, trying to shake off what ever he was feeling. Buck lets out a sigh of mixed emotions and looks down to the floor
"I'm not comin' back," Bobby replies in a worried tone. Buck looks back up quickly to see Bobby's monotone expression. Why was he so serious? Buck then was expecting to hear rapid fire questions from his coworkers and friends, but he doesn't. "What?" Bobby shakes his head but doesn't break eye contact, "I'm not coming back, Buck. You know that," Bobby repeats. Buck, feeling uneasy now, looks around for his family. No one. Where did they go? He didn't see them leave, let alone hear them. "Bobby, what do you mean," Buck questions worriedly. "Come on Buck, wake up." Buck can feel his stomach drop out of his ass, a feeling he'd rather die than feel again. He hates when his heart beats faster, or his stomach drops, or even when he feels that overwhelming pit of anxiety sizzle within him. "Wake up," Bobby orders again. "I am, I am awake. Are—are you okay?" Buck stands up, his calfs pushing the hospital chair back. "Wake up."
"Yeah, Buck. Wake up," Chimney and Hen yell simultaneously from behind him. Then suddenly, two palms harshly push Buck forward.
Buck breathes in deeply, but that doesn't seem to be enough air. Buck's body launches forward, his nerves making it hard to think, or even see right now. Buck was on a couch, now. What? Buck can't breathe. He gasps, and tries for more air, but he can't seem to calm down. "Buck, hey, it's okay! It's okay! Calm down," he hears. That voice was familiar: but who did it belong to? "Breathe," the voice says. Buck was so confused at what was going on, he forgot to breathe. Finally, he took in a calm, steady, breath and looked to find who was talking to him, and he saw his sister, Maddie. "Sorry, Buck. But, it's time to get ready," she informs, her voice somber and sweet. Buck buffered for a moment, "ready for what," Buck questions.
Maddie let out a sigh, "Bobby's funeral service."
