It was me in there( 9-1-1 )

Bucks Breaking Point

It was just another morning at the firehouse. The sound of Chimney clattering around the kitchen, Bobby reading through paperwork at the table, and Eddie chatting with the rookies in the corner. Normally, the hum of daily life in the station was something Buck thrived on. But today was different. His hands were shaking slightly as he held the coffee mug, and the usual hum of activity felt muffled. His chest was tight, a pressure he couldn't shake, like a weight pressing down from every side.

The memories of the night before—the faint echoes of his father's voice, the images of his past flooding in during the quiet moments—had followed him here, suffocating him like a ghost that wouldn't leave. The longer he sat there, the more his breath started to quicken, his heart pounding against his ribs. But Buck didn't move. He couldn't. Not yet.

Eddie had noticed first. He'd always noticed when something was wrong. His eyes softened as he glanced over at Buck, who was sitting at the table with his mug still in hand, staring at the dark liquid as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the present.

"Buck," Eddie's voice cut through the quiet, and Buck felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Eddie was too close to the truth—he always was. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Buck muttered, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The lie sat heavy in the air. He was anything but fine. But admitting it would feel like giving up. And he couldn't do that—not here, not now.

Eddie didn't believe him. Buck could feel Eddie's gaze still on him, searching, probing, even though the man said nothing. The pressure in his chest was growing, unbearable now. His breath was shallow, short gasps, but he didn't dare let it show. Not in front of the team. Not when he should be strong. Not when they needed him.

Bobby entered the room, his voice calm but commanding. "Everyone get ready—there's a call coming in."

But the noise, the sound of Bobby's footsteps, the shuffle of papers, everything around Buck became too much. The edges of his vision blurred. The space around him started to shrink, like the walls were caving in. His heart was hammering, his chest tightening with each breath, and yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get enough air.

He set the mug down with trembling hands, the clink of porcelain too loud, echoing in the quiet of his mind.

"Buck?" Eddie's voice was closer now, urgent. Buck couldn't look at him. He couldn't focus on anything. His world was collapsing in on itself. His throat constricted, and the room felt like it was spinning.

"Breathe, Buck," Eddie said softly, but Buck couldn't hear him. He was too deep in it now, trapped inside his own body, his own mind.

"Buck!" Eddie's voice raised slightly, desperate. "Focus on me. Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth."

But Buck couldn't. He couldn't breathe. His chest felt as though it was being crushed from the inside, the air so thin he could hardly draw it in. His lungs burned with every attempt to inhale, but it wasn't enough. The panic came like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.

It was like he couldn't separate the present from the past. The ghost of his father's voice whispered in his ears, cutting through the fog. You'll never be good enough. You'll never be him. You're nothing.

His hand reached instinctively to his chest, clutching at his shirt, but it only made it worse. The walls around him were pressing closer, the air getting thinner and thinner. His heart pounded in his throat, his hands shaking violently.

"Get him on the couch!" Bobby's voice was sharp now, full of authority, as he rushed forward, guiding Eddie to move Buck away from the table. But Buck couldn't move. His legs felt like lead, too heavy to lift, his body frozen in the grip of panic.

"Buck!" Eddie's voice broke through again, more urgently this time, as he caught Buck under his arm, trying to pull him toward the couch.

The others were moving quickly now, the usual calm of the firehouse replaced by an undercurrent of fear. Chimney was at Buck's side, his face pale with worry as he helped Eddie move him.

"Sit him down," Bobby directed, his calm leadership a stark contrast to the storm raging inside Buck's chest.

But Buck couldn't sit. His body was trembling, his head spinning, and he felt like he was suffocating. His hands were gripping Eddie's shirt now, his breath coming out in uneven, gasping sobs, but still, he couldn't breathe.

"Buck, listen to me!" Eddie's hands were gentle but insistent on Buck's shoulders, holding him in place, trying to ground him. "You're with me. You're okay. Just breathe. You're okay."

But Buck couldn't process the words. They were drowning in the noise of his panic. All he could hear was his heartbeat, pounding like a drum in his ears, and the sound of his father's voice, as cruel and cold as it had been when he was a child. Stop pretending you're someone you're not.

"Buck," Bobby's voice broke through, softer now, as he crouched in front of him, his presence steady. "You're not alone. You're here, with us. Look at me, Buck."

Buck tried to focus, tried to hear Bobby's words, but it felt like there was a wall between him and the world, thick and suffocating. He could feel the cold sweat pouring down his back, his body shaking harder now. His head was spinning, the walls pressing in.

"Breathe, Buck," Bobby continued, his hands hovering near Buck's chest but not touching, giving him space. "I need you to focus on your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth."

But Buck couldn't get his breath to slow. His vision was starting to fade around the edges, the world blurring into a haze. His body was still shaking, his chest heaving with every desperate attempt to draw air in. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

"I can't..." Buck gasped, the words barely forming. "I can't breathe... I can't..."

"Buck, listen to me!" Eddie's voice cracked now, panic threading through it. "You're not back there. You're not in that place. You're here, with us. You're safe. I'm here, okay? I'm here."

The words helped, just a little. Eddie's hands on his shoulders, the warmth of his presence, the deep, steadying force of his voice—they brought a flicker of reality back into Buck's mind. Slowly, the edges of the panic started to blur, the fog lifting just a little.

But Buck was still trapped. His body was still shaking, his heart still racing, the pressure on his chest not quite gone. He couldn't feel the air, couldn't taste it, couldn't inhale deep enough. His breath was ragged, his body twitching uncontrollably, the world still spinning in a blur.

"Chim, get some water," Bobby ordered, and Chimney moved without hesitation, his face set in determination. He returned quickly, handing Buck a bottle, but it was Bobby who spoke next, his voice clear and calm despite the tension. "Buck, look at me. You're here. We're all here. You're safe."

Buck tried, tried to focus on Bobby's eyes, tried to push through the panic, but it was like trying to push through a storm with no shelter. Every breath felt like it could be his last, every inhale a struggle.

Slowly, over what felt like hours but had only been minutes, Buck's body began to calm. The shaking lessened. His breath, though still uneven, started to find some rhythm. The fog began to lift just enough for him to understand that he was here, in the firehouse, with Eddie and the others.

"I'm here, Buck," Eddie said softly, his hand finally resting on the back of Buck's neck, grounding him with the simple touch. "We're here."

Buck didn't know how long it took, but eventually, the suffocating pressure in his chest began to subside, the panic attack pulling away, leaving a lingering ache in its wake. The world didn't feel quite as blurry anymore, though the edges were still frayed. He blinked several times, finally able to focus on Eddie's face, the concern still heavy in his eyes.

Bobby stood back, his expression unreadable, but there was relief there, hidden behind the steady mask he always wore. "You're alright now, Buck," Bobby murmured, his voice soft but sure. "You're safe."

Buck could barely nod, his body still feeling like it was heavy with the weight of what had just happened. His hands trembled at his sides, his chest sore, but the worst of the storm was over—for now.

But Buck knew one thing for certain. He wasn't alone. Not anymore. Eddie, Bobby, Chimney—they were all there. And that, in itself, was enough to keep him grounded. For now.