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

The Phone Call

The firehouse felt unusually still. Buck could feel the weight of the air pressing against his chest, his thoughts scattered, each one more anxious than the last. His hands were shaking as he dialed the familiar number, the same one that had always been a source of comfort and warmth. But today, the moment felt different.

He didn't know why, but something in his gut was screaming at him to check in on Mumma. His pulse quickened, his mind racing as the phone rang—once, twice, three times.

Finally, she answered.

"Bucky," her voice cracked, soft and strained, a tremor he'd never heard before. It sent an immediate chill down Buck's spine. "Bucky, please, you need to listen to me. I need you to come home, right now. Your father... he—he has a gun, Bucky. He's—he's looking for me."

Buck's heart stopped, the phone slipping a little in his hand. He tried to steady his voice, but the panic in it was unmistakable. "Mumma, what do you mean? Where are you? What's going on?"

Her breath caught on the other end of the line, and Buck could hear the strain in it—like she was struggling to keep it together.

"Bucky... you need to listen. He's lost it. I... I can't leave. He won't let me," she whispered, her voice breaking with fear. "Please, Bucky, just know that I love you. You've always been my strong boy. No matter what happens... I need you to know how much I love you. I always will."

Her words were too much. Buck could feel the panic creeping up his throat, threatening to choke him. "Mumma, please, just leave the house. I'll come to you. We'll figure it out, okay? Please just get out of there."

There was a pause, a heavy silence that hung in the air like an unspoken goodbye. Then, a faint noise—footsteps, hurried, frantic—came from the other end, followed by her voice again, shaky, fragile.

"I... I can't, Bucky. I'm trapped. He's—he's too angry, too far gone." Her words were barely a whisper, but they hit him like a punch to the stomach. "I just... I need you to know I love you, so much. You're my everything."

"Mumma, no! You need to—"

Before Buck could finish his sentence, the phone line crackled. Then, the worst sound Buck had ever heard.

A blood-curdling scream. A scream so raw, so full of terror, that Buck felt it vibrate through his entire body. His breath hitched in his chest, his throat closing up.

"Mumma!?" he shouted into the phone, his voice cracking, but there was no answer. Just the faint sound of something—or someone—moving in a panic. Then, another voice, chilling and menacing, cut through the static.

"Watch out, Buckley."

It was his father. Phillip's voice, venomous and full of malice. The words sent a shockwave through Buck's entire body. He couldn't breathe. His thoughts were scattered, his mind racing, trying to process what was happening, but he couldn't.

Then, the line went dead.

No goodbyes. No explanation. Just silence.

Buck stood frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear as if somehow, it could bring his mum back to him. He could barely hear the faint, distant sound of Eddie's voice in the background calling his name, but it was muted. All he could focus on was the eerie silence that now filled the air.

A tremor ran through him. His hands began to shake uncontrollably, and his chest felt tight, too tight to breathe. His heart was beating so loudly, so erratically, it almost drowned out the sound of his thoughts.

"Mumma?!" he cried, but it didn't matter. His words were lost in the echo of his panic.

He staggered back, his vision blurring as the overwhelming weight of the situation set in. He could feel the room spinning around him, the walls closing in. The air was thick, suffocating, and he couldn't get enough of it. He reached for the nearest surface to steady himself but his legs were giving out beneath him.

Eddie was suddenly there, his hand gripping his arm, pulling him back to reality. "Buck," Eddie's voice was firm, urgent, but filled with an underlying tenderness that Buck wasn't sure he could handle right now. "Breathe, Buck. I need you to breathe."

But Buck couldn't. The air was too thick, too suffocating. Each breath was like a struggle against the invisible weight crushing his chest. His head spun, his pulse thundering in his ears.

"Buck," Eddie said, pulling him closer. His voice was low, calming, trying to break through the panic. "Look at me, Buck. You need to breathe, okay? I'm right here."

But Buck couldn't focus. His vision was clouded with tears, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps. He shook his head, his whole body trembling.

"I—I can't... I can't breathe, Eddie," Buck whispered, the panic squeezing the words out of him. His chest felt like it was caving in, suffocating under the weight of it all.

"I know, Buck," Eddie said softly, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. "I'm here. Just breathe with me. We're gonna do this together."

Buck clung to Eddie, his body shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to take a breath, to find some kind of rhythm in the chaos inside him. But it was like trying to breathe underwater. Every inhale felt shallow, incomplete. His whole body was on fire, his thoughts a whirlwind of terror and disbelief. His mother—Mumma—was in danger, and he couldn't do a thing to help her.

"Breathe, Buck. In... and out," Eddie repeated, pulling him closer, steadying him. "Come on, breathe for me. We'll get through this."

It felt like hours, but slowly, Buck's breathing began to steady, each inhale feeling a little less like a struggle. The tears didn't stop, though. They flowed freely, uncontrollably, and he couldn't fight them. He buried his face in Eddie's shirt, letting the comfort of his presence wash over him.

Eddie held him, never pulling away, never letting go.

And that's how it went for what felt like eternity. Eddie didn't try to push Buck, didn't ask him questions. He just held him. And Buck, in his broken state, let himself be held.

After a long moment, when Buck's breath had slowed to something more manageable, Eddie spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Buck, listen to me. You're safe here. You don't have to be alone in this. We'll figure this out, together."

Buck nodded, but the words he wanted to say wouldn't come. His throat was too tight, his mind too clouded. He didn't even know what to say anymore.

After a long pause, Eddie pulled back slightly, still holding onto Buck, but enough for Buck to see the concern written across his face. "Do you need me to get someone? We can go to your mum. We'll figure it out, okay?"

But Buck's eyes darted away. He couldn't look at Eddie. He couldn't talk about it. Not yet.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Instead, he broke down again. His sobs wracked through his body, overwhelming and relentless.

And Eddie, ever the steady anchor, simply held him, offering the silent support Buck desperately needed.