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

Back at... Wait this isnt home? not anymore.

Buck's hand hovered just above the door handle, his heart pounding as his fingers barely brushed the cold metal. He'd stood here for minutes, the weight of the decision pressing down on him harder with every breath. Eddie stood silently beside him, his quiet presence a comfort, but nothing could make this moment feel less suffocating. Buck didn't want to open this door. Didn't want to face the past, didn't want to relive the memories that clung to the walls like the dust and mildew in this house.

"I can't, Eddie. I can't do this." The words slipped out before he could stop them. His voice sounded raw, tight with something that was both fear and a deep, lingering sadness.

"You don't have to do this, Buck," Eddie said softly, his voice low and warm. He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Buck's shoulder. "We don't have to go in."

But Buck already knew. He knew this was something he had to do. It wasn't for Eddie, or for anyone else. It was for himself. He had to face the place that had shaped so much of who he was, for better or worse. He had to look it in the eye. It had been too long since he'd run from it.

"No," Buck finally said, his breath shaky, "I need to do this. It's just... I thought I could. I really thought I could." His hand clenched around the doorframe as his pulse started to race, his whole body tightening.

Eddie watched him carefully, his expression soft but understanding. "You don't have to rush. Take your time. Just let me know if it gets too much, alright?"

Buck nodded, but the door seemed to mock him. It wasn't the same door he'd slammed shut behind him all those years ago. But it felt the same. The same weight, the same anxiety pooling in his stomach. The same fear.

Finally, with a deep breath, he pushed the door open. The hinges creaked—a high-pitched, drawn-out sound that seemed to pierce the air like nails on a chalkboard. The noise made Buck freeze, his chest tightening instantly. He winced at the sound, hands trembling as his brain screamed at him to shut it out. But it was too late. The sound hung in the air, echoing in his head, bouncing off the walls of the house in a relentless loop.

Buck's breath hitched. The air felt thick, like it was pressing against his lungs, making it harder to breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in.

"Buck?" Eddie's voice broke through the haze, but it was too late. The first noise was just the beginning. There was too much. Too many sounds. The creaking of the floorboards under their feet, the whir of an old fan in the background, the tick of a clock on the wall. It all mixed together, sharp and jarring. Each sound layered on top of the other, a relentless barrage. His mind couldn't keep up. His thoughts were scattered, racing, trapped in the noise.

"I—" Buck gasped, his chest tight as his head started to swim. "I can't... too much. It's too loud, Eddie." His words came out in a rush, his voice strained. His ADHD was on full display now, every single sound amplified, too much to process. The world around him spun faster, and his hands started to shake uncontrollably.

Eddie reached out to steady him, but Buck flinched away, his eyes wide and unseeing as he tried to focus, tried to fight the overwhelming sensations. "I'm overstimulated," he whispered, almost in disbelief at how quickly it was happening. "I—I can't focus on anything. It's... too much. The noise... the smell..." Buck blinked rapidly, as if trying to push away the intensity of everything at once.

The room began to blur. The faint, musky smell of old carpets, dust, and something else—something faintly metallic—made Buck's stomach twist. It reminded him of blood, of his mom. It all rushed back, so fast, so sharp. His vision swam. The walls seemed to pulse and sway around him, closing in with every beat of his heart. The noise—god, the noise—was drowning him. It didn't stop.

The ticking clock was like a bomb in his ears. The sound of the wind outside, tapping against the window, felt like someone was knocking relentlessly, begging him to let it in. The air was thick, too thick to breathe. His breaths came in short, panicked gasps, and he couldn't catch his breath. His chest tightened further, constricting. His heart raced faster than he could keep up with. It was too fast, too overwhelming.

"Buck," Eddie's voice came again, but this time it was different. There was a sharp edge of concern. "Look at me. Buck, focus on me, okay?"

But it was too hard. Buck couldn't hear Eddie's words over the rush of sounds and sensations hitting him all at once. It felt like he was suffocating. He could feel his own pulse thumping in his ears, the steady rhythm of it becoming a war drum, growing louder. His eyes darted around the room, but he couldn't focus on anything. His skin felt too tight, his body too heavy. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. He wanted to run, to scream, to make it all stop.

"I can't..." Buck whispered, panic threading through his voice. "I can't... please make it stop."

Eddie was right there, his hand gently on Buck's arm now, guiding him toward the doorway. But Buck's body wouldn't move. His feet felt glued to the floor, his mind refusing to catch up. Every sound around him was like a knife scraping against glass, and his brain couldn't keep up.

"Buck, breathe with me, okay?" Eddie said, his voice firm but calm. "In, out, nice and slow." He stepped in front of Buck, gently cupping his face with both hands, forcing Buck's attention on him. "Look at me. You're safe. It's just the noise. We're getting out of here."

Buck's chest tightened, his breathing too shallow as he tried to focus on Eddie's voice. The pressure in his head was suffocating. The noise wasn't stopping. It was like the world was too much, everything moving too fast for him to catch. "It's too much... everything's too loud. The clock... the floor... the wind..." He felt like he was drowning in sound. His eyes were wide, unfocused, his thoughts splintering and scattering.

Eddie took a deep breath, trying to ground Buck. "I know. It's too much. But we're leaving, okay? We're getting out of here. You don't have to face all of it right now. Let's just step back, alright?"

Buck could barely nod. His whole body was locked in place, frozen in the overwhelming flood of noise and sensory overload. Eddie moved carefully, guiding him toward the door, but the world still felt like it was pressing in on him. Buck's vision was blurry at the edges, his thoughts hazy. "I thought I was okay..." he muttered, the words barely making it out of his mouth. "I didn't think it would be this bad. I didn't think..."

"You don't have to be okay right now, Buck," Eddie said, pulling him into the hallway, away from the chaos of the house. "You're here. You're with me. We'll take it one step at a time."

Buck didn't respond right away. He could only focus on Eddie's steadying presence as they moved away from the house, away from the noise. Slowly, the pressure in his chest began to ease, but the effects of overstimulation lingered, buzzing just beneath the surface. His heartbeat was still too fast, his thoughts still scattered.

Eddie kept talking, his voice calm and rhythmic, grounding Buck through the storm inside his head. "It's okay. We'll figure this out together. You don't have to carry it all alone."

Buck's hands were still shaking as they stepped outside, but he was finally starting to breathe. Not perfectly. Not completely. But enough