Buddie: Partners in Fire

Chapter 105

Scene: At the scene of the Call

When they arrived on the scene, the intensity of the fire hit them instantly. Thick black smoke billowed from the windows of a small, two-story house, curling into the sky like an ominous storm. Flames licked hungrily up the sides of the building, dancing in the windows, consuming everything in their path. The fire was already well underway, a blazing reminder of the dangerous unpredictability of their job. There was no time to waste.

As Buck jumped down from the truck with the rest of the team, his heart pounded against his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His fingers gripped the heavy gear, the weight of his turnout jacket and helmet familiar but oppressive today. The air was already thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and chemicals, and the heat radiating from the structure was palpable, even from a distance.

Bobby (commanding without thinking of Buck's last time in a building in fire): “Eddie, Buck, Ravi—hoses and search inside. Hen, Chimney, check the perimeter for victims and report back!”

Buck nodded, the orders clear in his head, but as he and Eddie moved toward the side of the house, something shifted. His eyes locked on the flames, and in that split second, the fire became more than just a job. The sight of the roaring inferno, the way the flames danced and twisted in the air—it all came crashing back.

The heat. The smoke. The crushing weight of debris pinning him to the ground.

His breath hitched, heart pounding in his ears as his mind transported him back to that day—the day of his accident. The day he almost didn’t make it out alive. The house in front of him began to blur as his vision tunneled, the edges of the world closing in around him. He could hear the fire, louder than before, as if it was surrounding him. The heat grew unbearable in his mind, suffocating, oppressive, like the weight of the ceiling collapsing onto his chest, trapping him.

The panic hit like a tidal wave, sudden and overwhelming. His breaths came faster, shorter. The air felt thin, the space too small. His hands, usually so steady, trembled at his sides as the memories of the accident crashed over him like a storm, dragging him under.

Buck’s thoughts: I’m back there. I’m back in that fire. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m trapped. It’s happening again...

His legs felt like they had turned to concrete, his body paralyzed as the flames in front of him blurred into the firestorm of his memory. The same helplessness he had felt that day washed over him, pulling him under, drowning him in a sea of fear and panic.

He froze.

Buck’s thoughts: I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I thought I was, but I can’t...

The world around him faded into the background. The shouts of his team, the crackle of the fire, even the heat—it all felt distant, as if he were watching from the outside, unable to pull himself back into the moment. His breaths were coming in rapid, shallow bursts, his chest tight as the anxiety took hold, squeezing him until he thought he might break.

Eddie (urgently, sensing something was wrong): “Buck?”

Eddie was just a few steps ahead, scanning the perimeter of the house, but when he turned back and saw Buck standing there, stock-still and wide-eyed, he immediately knew something was wrong. Buck wasn’t moving, wasn’t responding to the urgency of the situation. His breathing was fast and erratic, and his usually sharp, focused gaze was lost, far away.

Eddie (more urgent now): “Buck!”

But Buck didn’t hear him. He was too deep in the past, trapped in the memory of his accident, the fear and panic gripping him like a vice. His hands shook at his sides, his legs refusing to move, his chest constricting tighter with each passing second.

Eddie quickly closed the distance between them, placing a firm hand on Buck’s shoulder. He could feel the tension in Buck’s body, the way his muscles were rigid with fear.

Eddie (soft but firm): *“Hey, look at me. Buck, you’re okay. We’re here. This is different. You’re safe.”

But Buck’s eyes were still wide, his breathing quick and shallow. The world around him was spinning, the heat from the fire pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake. He was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack, and Eddie knew he had to get him out of there.

Eddie (calling out): “Bobby! We need help over here!”

Bobby, who had been directing the team on how to tackle the fire, immediately turned at the sound of Eddie’s voice. He saw Buck’s condition and didn’t hesitate.

Bobby (shouting over the noise): “Eddie, get him back to the truck! Now! I'll call another unit!”

There was no time to waste. Eddie nodded and gently but firmly guided Buck away from the scene, his hand never leaving his shoulder as he steered him back toward the truck. Buck’s legs felt like they were moving through quicksand, each step a monumental effort. His mind was still swimming, his thoughts tangled in the panic that had overtaken him.

By the time they reached the truck, Buck was visibly shaking, his breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps. Eddie helped him sit down on the back bumper, crouching in front of him, his hands gripping Buck’s shoulders to keep him grounded.

Eddie (calm but insistent): “Buck, listen to me. You’re not there anymore, okay? You’re here, with me. Breathe with me, alright? Just focus on my voice.”

Buck squeezed his eyes shut, his heart still racing, but Eddie’s voice was like a lifeline, cutting through the fog of panic that clouded his mind. He focused on the feel of Eddie’s hands on his shoulders, on the steadiness of his presence, the calm certainty in his voice.

Eddie (softly, matching his breaths to Buck’s): “In... out... slow it down. You’ve got this. You’re okay.”

For a long moment, Buck couldn’t get the memories out of his head. They were too vivid, too close. But slowly, with Eddie’s help, he started to breathe more evenly. The rapid, shallow gasps began to even out, the tightness in his chest loosening just enough for him to take in a full breath.

His eyes finally flickered open, meeting Eddie’s steady gaze. Eddie’s face was calm, reassuring, his hands still gripping Buck’s shoulders like an anchor.

Buck (voice shaky): “I... I couldn’t move. I just... froze.”

Eddie shook his head gently, his voice filled with understanding.

Eddie: “It’s okay, Buck. This isn’t something you just get over in a day. It’s going to take time. You’re still healing, and that’s okay.”

Buck’s chest was still tight, the fear lingering like a shadow, but the overwhelming panic had begun to recede. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder, his breaths still coming in shallow, but no longer frantic.

Buck (murmuring): “I thought I was ready, Eddie. I thought I could handle it...”

Eddie (soft but firm): “You don’t have to handle it all at once. We’ll get through this, Buck. Together.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Eddie’s presence solid and unwavering as Buck’s breathing slowly returned to normal. The sound of the fire, the shouts of the team—it all felt distant now, muted by the bond between them in this moment.

When Buck finally pulled back, his hands were still trembling slightly, but the panic had loosened its grip. He wasn’t fully okay—he wasn’t sure when he would be—but he wasn’t alone. And for now, that was enough.