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

Hospital

The sterile hum of the hospital room seemed louder than anything Eddie had ever heard. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors tethering Buck to the world was his only reassurance that his partner was still alive. He sat in the stiff plastic chair, his hands wrapped tightly around Buck's, his fingers trembling against the clammy skin.

His breaths came shallowly, his chest tight as though the weight of the entire day had settled squarely on him. Buck looked so small in that bed, so fragile—a word Eddie would never have associated with him before. But now? Eddie couldn't stop seeing it.

A knock sounded at the door, hesitant and soft. Eddie turned his head slowly, as if moving any faster might shatter the fragile grip he had on his emotions. Bobby stepped in first, his expression grave but laced with concern. Behind him, Hen, Chimney, and Athena filed in, their faces a mirror of Bobby's.

"Eddie," Bobby said gently, his voice low. "How is he?"

Eddie's throat felt like it was closing up. He forced himself to take a breath, though it came out shakier than he'd hoped. "He's... stable. For now." His voice cracked, the words breaking under the weight of everything left unsaid. "They said the bullet missed his heart by millimeters." He swallowed hard, his grip on Buck's hand tightening. "If it had been any closer..."

He couldn't finish. The words lodged in his throat, his chest heaving as he fought the sob that threatened to escape.

Hen stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "But it wasn't," she said firmly, her voice steady. "Eddie, he's here. That's what matters right now."

Eddie nodded, but the knot in his stomach didn't ease. He didn't look up, his eyes glued to Buck's face. The bruises from the fall after he'd been shot were stark against his pale skin, the oxygen tube under his nose a painful reminder of just how close they'd come to losing him.

Chimney leaned against the foot of the bed, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Leave it to Buck," he said with a strained chuckle, his voice tight with barely suppressed emotion. "The guy survives lightning strikes, tsunamis, and explosions, and then this? His own father? It's..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Chim," Athena said softly, her tone gentle but firm, a reminder to tread carefully.

"No, he's right," Eddie muttered, his voice low. He finally tore his gaze away from Buck to look at the team, his eyes rimmed red and brimming with unshed tears. "It's Buck. He's always the one jumping in front of danger. Always putting himself last. And now..." His voice broke, and he had to press his lips together to keep from completely falling apart.

Bobby crouched beside him, his hand a steadying weight on Eddie's arm. "Eddie," he said, his voice calm but filled with conviction, "this isn't your fault. None of it is. Buck made a choice—a choice to protect you. And he'd do it again in a heartbeat. You know that."

Eddie shook his head, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "I should've seen it coming. I should've—"

"No," Bobby interrupted, his grip tightening. "You can't carry that. You've done everything you could for him, and now you're here. That's what he needs from you."

Eddie nodded mutely, though the guilt still gnawed at him. He turned back to Buck, brushing his thumb over the back of his hand.

The door opened again, and this time, Maddie stepped in. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. The moment she saw Buck, her hand flew to her mouth, a muffled sob escaping her lips.

"Maddie," Eddie said softly, standing to give her room.

She rushed to her brother's side, her fingers trembling as she reached out to brush his hair back. "Oh, Bucky," she whispered, her voice breaking. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

Eddie stepped back, leaning heavily against the wall. Watching Maddie break down over Buck was like a knife to his chest, twisting deeper with every tear she shed.

Maddie turned to him, her eyes pleading. "He's going to be okay, right? Please, Eddie, tell me he's going to be okay."

Eddie swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "The doctors say he's stable. But he's got a long road ahead of him."

Maddie let out a shaky breath, her hand covering her mouth as fresh tears spilled over. Chimney moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she cried.

Hen took a seat on the other side of the bed, her hand resting gently on Buck's arm. "He's Buck," she said quietly. "If anyone can come back from this, it's him."

Eddie nodded, though the knot in his stomach didn't ease. He sank back into his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. The room was filled with the soft murmur of voices, the team trying to console one another while the weight of the situation pressed down on them all.

Hours passed, and the team stayed. Eddie didn't move from his spot by Buck's side, his hand never leaving Buck's. The exhaustion was evident on his face, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to the sleepless night he'd endured.

Bobby eventually coaxed him into drinking some water, though Eddie refused to eat. His focus remained solely on Buck, as though his sheer willpower alone could bring him back.

"Eddie," Bobby said gently, crouching beside him again. "You need to take care of yourself too. Buck wouldn't want you to run yourself into the ground like this."

Eddie shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I can't leave him," he said firmly. "Not when he needs me."

Bobby sighed but didn't push further. He knew better than to argue when Eddie was this determined.

As night fell, the room grew quieter. The team had taken turns sitting with Buck, sharing stories and memories in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere. But now, with the darkness outside matching the somber mood inside, the silence felt heavier than ever.

Eddie leaned forward, his forehead resting against Buck's hand. His voice was barely audible as he whispered, "Please, Buck. Come back to me. I can't do this without you."

The team exchanged glances, their hearts breaking at the sight of Eddie's raw vulnerability. They all cared deeply for Buck, but they knew Eddie's connection to him ran deeper than anything they'd ever seen.

As the hours stretched on, Eddie stayed where he was, his hand holding Buck's like a lifeline. The team's presence was a comfort, but nothing could ease the ache in his chest. He just needed Buck to wake up. To open his eyes and give him that lopsided grin that always made everything feel okay.

But until then, Eddie would be there. He wasn't going anywhere.