Underneath the Armor

Crossing Lines

The days that followed were a blur of doctor's visits, phone calls, and doing her best to balance work with taking care of her mother and kids. But even as she threw herself into the grind of it all, something had changed. Buck and Eddie had woven themselves into her life in ways that she didn't fully understand, but she could feel it. The way they checked in on her, the small gestures of care that meant the world—like bringing food, taking over shifts, or just sitting with her in the quiet moments. They were more than just coworkers now. They had become something deeper, something harder to define.

It was a few days after their visit to her home when she found herself in a situation that would test the very boundaries she'd so carefully built around her heart.

It started like any other shift. A handful of calls had come through, most of them routine. They were just finishing up a minor car accident when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at it, her stomach dropping when she saw the name on the screen: Linda.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Hi, it's Linda. I'm really sorry to call you at work, but your mom's condition took a turn. She's... she's unresponsive right now. I think you should come home."

Her throat went dry, and her heartbeat quickened. "I'm on my way," she said before hanging up.

The team noticed her immediate shift in energy, the way her face paled, the way her body stiffened. Buck was the first to approach.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, concern written all over his face.

"She's... she's not doing well," she said quietly, barely able to get the words out. "I have to go home."

Eddie walked up behind her, his presence a calming force. "We'll go with you," he said simply.

She looked between them, shaking her head. "No, you don't have to—"

"We want to," Buck interjected, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not alone in this. Not now."

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard. She had been so used to carrying everything by herself—barely accepting help when it was offered. But the thought of them coming with her, of them being there during this moment of crisis, it meant more than she was ready to admit. It was almost the end of their shift anyway, so Bobby didn't have a problem with them leaving.

"Okay," she said quietly, barely able to keep her voice steady.

—

They arrived at her home in what felt like no time at all. She could already see Linda standing on the porch, her face a mix of concern and exhaustion. The air around them seemed to thicken, the weight of what was happening pressing on her chest like a vice. The kids were playing outside, they didn't know what was happening.

Linda stepped forward to meet them. "She's inside," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Her breath hitched as she walked past Linda, stepping into the house. Her heart pounded in her ears, the uncertainty of what she might find overwhelming.

In her bedroom, her mother lay on the take-home hospital bed , pale and still. She looked smaller than she remembered, frail, fragile, and nothing like the woman who had once been so full of life.

The tears came suddenly, burning her eyes, but she tried to hold them back. She couldn't break down. Not now. Not in front of the kids. Not with Buck and Eddie here.

Eddie stepped forward first, his voice calm but gentle. "You want us to stay out here?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers.

She nodded slightly, her voice thick. "Yeah. Please. I don't want them to see this."