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

Buck spills.

Buck's body was trembling uncontrollably as Eddie held him tight, his hands gently stroking his back in an attempt to soothe him, though Buck's sobs were coming in waves, shaking his entire body. The room was so silent that the only sound was Buck's desperate, gasping breaths and the quiet murmurs from Eddie, trying to ground him in the present.

But Buck couldn't stop shaking. The weight of everything—his father, the abuse, his mumma's death—was too much, and it all came crashing down at once. His chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, and each breath felt like a struggle.

"B-Buck," Eddie's voice was soft, but Buck couldn't hear him over the storm inside his mind, over the pressure of the guilt and the grief that threatened to drown him.

And then it happened.

Buck's voice broke through the chaos, low and raw, almost a whisper, but it was a start. "I—I need to say it," he gasped, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. "I need to... tell you... all of you. Everything. Please." His words were so broken, so fragile, as though he was afraid if he spoke too loud, it would all shatter into nothingness.

The crew was frozen, all of them watching him, all of them waiting for him to speak, not knowing what was coming, but feeling the weight of it. Eddie's arms around him tightened, as though giving him a bit more of the safety he needed to speak.

"B-Buck," Bobby's voice was soft and full of concern as he crouched down next to Eddie, his eyes full of empathy, but Buck couldn't look at him. He couldn't look at anyone except Eddie. Eddie, who had been the only one to see all of him—the mess, the broken pieces, the moments he couldn't hide.

"I... I never told you," Buck started, his words almost strangled as the sobs tore through him. "What it was really like... growing up." His chest heaved, and he pressed his hands to his face, trying to wipe away the tears, but they only came harder. The pressure on his chest felt unbearable, as though the walls around him were closing in, and he could barely breathe, but the words kept coming. "My dad... he's—he was... cruel. So cruel. And I—I didn't know how to stop him. I was just a kid."

His voice broke on the last words, and for a moment, all that could be heard was the frantic gasps of his breathing, as though he was struggling to hold himself together.

"I—I couldn't escape him. No one... no one believed me. He would say things to me... things that... that I can't forget." Buck's hands were trembling as they clutched at his own chest, trying to hold onto something solid. "He told me... that I was never enough. That I would never be enough for him. And... I tried to be. I tried so hard... to make him proud of me. But it was never good enough."

His words were coming in disjointed bursts, the pain of them almost too much to bear as he fell into a deeper wave of tears. "He'd hit me. He'd yell at me. Tell me I was worthless. I—I thought it was my fault. I thought I was broken."

His chest hitched with a sob so intense that he couldn't breathe. His hands gripped Eddie's arms, his nails digging in as if trying to steady himself, but there was no steadiness in him, not anymore.

"Buck, you're not—" Bobby started, his voice full of sympathy, but Buck wasn't hearing him. His eyes were wide, desperate, lost in the flood of emotion that was pouring out of him.

"I couldn't protect her," Buck choked out, his voice trembling as if the weight of the words was too heavy for him to carry. "I couldn't save Mumma. He... he took her from me. She was the only person who ever... loved me. And I couldn't save her."

His body shook harder, and his breathing became shallow, the panic rising in him like a wave. "She died... and I didn't tell her I loved her. I didn't... I never told her how much she meant to me. And now... now she's gone and I can't... I can't do anything to bring her back. I failed her." The words came out like broken glass, each one cutting through him.

Tears streamed down Buck's face, the sobs coming so violently that his entire body shook with them. His breath came in strangled gasps, and he couldn't find the air to breathe, couldn't find the strength to stop the torrent of emotion that was drowning him.

Eddie's hands were on him again, soothing, trying to ground him. "Buck, please. Breathe with me. In and out. You're not alone, you're not alone," Eddie whispered, but Buck could hardly hear him. The pain was too overwhelming, the fear and guilt too much to bear.

"My dad... he always said... I wasn't worth anything. That I'd never amount to anything. That I was a disappointment." Buck's voice faltered, and his breathing hitched again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't better. I'm sorry... that I couldn't make him proud."

"Buck," Chimney whispered, his voice trembling with the emotion that was thick in the room. "You don't have to keep carrying this. You've been through too much. You're not a disappointment."

But Buck couldn't stop. His sobs were so intense now, they seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, as though they had been buried for so long that they could no longer be contained. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated through the tears. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to be this way."

Hen stepped forward, her eyes full of sympathy as she placed a hand on Buck's shoulder. "You don't need to apologize for anything, Buck," she said gently, her voice full of understanding. "You've been through more than anyone should have to go through. But you're not alone anymore. We're here for you."

But Buck couldn't stop. He could feel the tears and the pain rising higher and higher, the shaking becoming uncontrollable. "I can't... I can't breathe, Eddie," he gasped, clutching at his chest as though trying to hold the world together. "I'm so tired. I'm so... so tired of this."

Eddie's voice softened, but it was steady. "I'm right here, Buck. We're all right here. You don't have to carry this by yourself."

But Buck didn't feel that. He only felt the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once. The guilt. The pain. The grief. The shame. He couldn't breathe. His body was trembling so hard that it felt like he might collapse.

"B-Buck, look at me," Eddie urged gently, trying to pull him back to the present, but Buck couldn't stop. The sobs came so violently now that they were tearing through him, and he felt like he was falling into a pit of darkness from which he couldn't escape.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I wasn't better," Buck gasped through the sobs, his voice raw and broken. "I'm so sorry... I couldn't save her."

The room fell silent again, everyone holding their breath, their eyes fixed on Buck, watching as he broke down completely. They all wanted to help, wanted to do something to fix it, but all they could do was be there.

"You don't have to be sorry, Buck," Bobby said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're here. That's what matters. You're here."

But Buck couldn't stop. He collapsed into Eddie, his body shaking uncontrollably, his face buried in Eddie's shoulder, the sobs wracking his body with such intensity that he felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

The crew watched in silence, their hearts breaking for the man who had always been the strong one, the one who took care of everyone, who had carried everyone else's burdens. And now, Buck was finally letting them see his. And all they could do was hold him, remind him that he wasn't alone anymore.