Trauma changes people. trauma changes everyone.
All rights for the 9-1-1 cast and all rights to most of the plot goes to ABC. New plots and new characters belong to me 🫶
Book continues in Apparition! 🫶
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EDDIE
The steady beep of the hospital monitor filled the room, a constant reminder of Lydia's fragile state. I watched as Miles continued to talk, his voice filling the silence that Lydia seemed unable to break. Her responses were minimal—just slight nods, her eyes distant and tired.
When Buck entered, I felt a small sense of relief. He approached Lydia's bed, his presence always seemed to calm her. I could see them talking quietly, Buck's voice low and concerned. I caught snippets of their conversation—something about her feeling weak and dizzy. Buck's brow furrowed with worry as Lydia described how her body felt like it was giving up. Worry filled me as the words came out of her mouth.
Buck excused himself to speak with the doctors, leaving Lydia looking even more exhausted.
I leaned forward, my voice gentle but firm. "Lydia, you need to eat something." The untouched food tray sat mockingly in front of her. "Just a few bites," I encouraged.
She shook her head, her movement weak but definitive.
"Mija, please," I tried again.
Another shake. Her stubborn streak was unmistakable, even in her weakened state.
Miles cut in the middle and started saying his goodbyes, clearly noticing the tension rising. He promised to be back tomorrow and a moment later, he was out the door. Once he left, the tension in the room became palpable.
"Lydia," I started, my frustration rising, "you can't keep refusing to eat."
She mustered what little strength she had to argue back. Her voice was sharp, despite barely being above a whisper. But midway through her protest, she suddenly stopped. Her gaze drifted away, leaving me with a mix of worry and exhaustion.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The silence was deafening.
Buck returned, sensing the changed atmosphere immediately. He cleared his throat, taking a seat in Lydia's direct line of sight. As he shared the doctor's update, I watched their interaction—the way Lydia seemed to relax slightly in his presence.
"The doctor will be by soon," Buck was saying. "Depending on how you're doing, we might be able to get you home."
Lydia turned to me suddenly, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Dad."
I shook my head, pushing away any lingering frustration. "Nothing to be sorry for, Mija."
She turned away, leaning against Buck's shoulder. He adjusted himself, allowing her to rest against him, his protective instinct clear.
