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

Confrontation

Buck sat at the communal table in the firehouse kitchen, absently picking at the sandwich Chim had made for him. The hum of the station surrounded him—the murmur of radios, the distant clang of equipment being sorted, and the occasional burst of laughter from the bunks. Normally, this atmosphere felt like home, comforting and familiar. Today, it felt stifling, like the walls were closing in.

Across the room, Bobby stood with Chimney and Athena. Their conversation was quiet, but their eyes flickered toward Buck every so often, concern etched into their expressions.

"He hasn't stopped moving all day," Bobby murmured, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Chim nodded, stealing a glance at Buck. "He's been pacing back and forth in the bay, rearranging tools that don't need rearranging. I even made fun of his hair this morning, and he didn't even bite back. That's how I know something's up."

Athena followed their gaze, her brows furrowed in concern. "It's not just today. He's been restless for weeks. Zoning out, moving like he's running on autopilot. And you saw him on the last call—he was barely present. That's not Buck."

Bobby's lips pressed into a thin line. "He's been through a lot. It's probably catching up with him."

"We need to say something," Athena said firmly. "Before this spirals into something worse."

Chim exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are we sure now's the time? He looks like he's about to snap as it is."

Bobby shook his head. "If we wait, it might be too late. Let's talk to him together. He needs to know we've got his back."

With a shared nod, they approached Buck cautiously. Bobby led the way, his steps deliberate and measured. Buck didn't look up, his leg bouncing beneath the table as he shredded the crust from his sandwich.

"Hey, Buck," Bobby said gently, pulling out a chair across from him. "Can we talk for a second?"

Buck froze, his fingers tightening around the crust in his hand. He looked up, his eyes darting between them. "Uh, yeah. Sure. What's up?"

Athena pulled out the chair beside Bobby, sitting down slowly. "We just wanted to check in," she said, her tone calm but pointed. "You've seemed... different lately. Restless."

"Restless?" Buck repeated, forcing a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. He dropped the crust onto his plate and shrugged. "I'm fine. Just, you know, a lot of energy to burn."

Chim crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. "Energy to burn? Buck, you've been vibrating like a live wire. And not in the fun, caffeine-overdose way. More like... the 'storm-is-coming' way."

"I'm fine," Buck said quickly, his voice a little too sharp. He shifted in his seat, his leg bouncing faster. "Really. I don't know why you're all looking at me like that."

Athena leaned forward, her gaze steady. "We're not trying to gang up on you, Evan. We're just worried. You've been through a lot, and it's okay to not be okay."

Buck's shoulders tensed, his hands curling into fists on the table. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone biting.

Bobby raised his hands in a calming gesture. "We hear you. But we've been in this long enough to know when someone's carrying more than they're letting on."

"I'm not carrying anything!" Buck's voice cracked, and he pushed back from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He stood abruptly, his chest heaving. "Why can't you all just let it go?"

Chim stepped forward, his voice soft but insistent. "Because we care about you, Buck. And it's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now. But you can't keep bottling this up."

Buck's breathing quickened, his hands flying to his head as he took another step back. "I'm not bottling anything up! There's nothing to bottle!"

Athena exchanged a glance with Bobby before taking a cautious step closer. "Evan, take a breath. You're safe. Whatever's going on, you don't have to face it alone."

"I don't need help!" Buck shouted, his voice echoing through the room. His hands clutched his hair, and his knees buckled slightly. He stumbled back until he hit the wall, his body trembling. "I don't need anyone's help! I just need—"

He cut himself off, a choked sob escaping his lips. He slid down the wall, his legs giving out completely. Sitting on the floor, he hugged his knees tightly to his chest, his whole body shaking.

Bobby approached slowly, crouching down a few feet away. "Buck," he said softly, "it's okay to feel overwhelmed. It's okay to not have all the answers right now."

Buck buried his face in his arms, his voice muffled but filled with anguish. "It's not okay. It's never been okay. I'm supposed to hold it together. I'm supposed to be fine."

Athena knelt beside Bobby, her voice gentle. "Evan, no one's expecting you to carry all of this alone. You're human. You're allowed to struggle."

Buck's head shot up, his tear-streaked face filled with raw emotion. "I don't know how to stop!" he cried. "My head—it's always spinning. Everything's too loud, too much, and I can't—I can't make it stop!"

His confession hung in the air, heavy and heartbreaking. Bobby moved closer, resting a hand lightly on Buck's shoulder. "You don't have to make it stop by yourself," he said gently. "That's what we're here for."

Buck's trembling slowed slightly at Bobby's touch, but his breathing remained ragged. "I don't know how to let anyone in," he whispered. "I've always been on my own. That's just... how it is."

Athena reached out, her hand resting lightly on his knee. "You're not on your own anymore, Evan. You've got us, and we're not going anywhere."

Buck didn't pull away this time. He sat there, surrounded by his team, the weight of their presence slowly grounding him. The storm raging inside him hadn't passed, but for the first time, he wasn't facing it alone.