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

Picking up the pieces

The rest of the day unfolded quietly, the kind of stillness that felt fragile, like the air might shatter if either of them said the wrong thing. Eddie kept a close eye on Buck as he moved through the house, sensing an undercurrent of vulnerability still lingering just below the surface.

Buck spent most of the morning on the couch, flipping aimlessly through the channels on the TV without settling on anything for more than a few minutes. His restless energy was palpable. Eddie had to force himself not to hover, giving Buck space while staying close enough to step in if needed.

Around lunchtime, Eddie noticed Buck standing by the window, staring out at the backyard with a faraway look. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture rigid.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Eddie asked as he approached.

Buck startled slightly, turning to face him. "Just thinking," he said, though his voice was distant.

"About anything in particular?" Eddie pressed gently.

Buck hesitated, his gaze flicking back to the window. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's like...my head's just loud today."

Eddie nodded, stepping closer. "You want to get out of the house for a bit? Clear your head?"

Buck considered the offer for a moment before shaking his head. "Not yet," he said quietly. "I think I need to sit with it for a while."

Eddie respected that, though he didn't step away. Instead, he leaned against the wall, giving Buck silent company as he wrestled with his thoughts.

The afternoon passed slowly, and by the time the sun began to set, Eddie was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner while Buck lingered in the living room. He could hear the faint sound of the TV playing, but the quiet that accompanied it made Eddie uneasy.

He wiped his hands on a towel and walked into the living room, finding Buck sitting on the couch with his knees drawn up to his chest. The remote lay forgotten on the cushion beside him, and his eyes were fixed on the floor.

"Hey," Eddie said softly, sitting down beside him. "You okay?"

Buck shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "I thought I was feeling better earlier, but now..." He trailed off, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Eddie's heart sank at the sight. "It's okay to have bad days," he said, his voice gentle. "It doesn't mean you're not making progress."

Buck exhaled shakily, dropping his hands to his lap. "It's not just today," he admitted. "It's all of it. The nightmares, the memories...I keep thinking about how I used to deal with this stuff when I was a kid. And I didn't deal with it, you know? I just...pretended it didn't exist."

"That's not your fault," Eddie said firmly. "You were a kid, Buck. You shouldn't have had to deal with it at all."

Buck's jaw tightened, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But I did," he whispered. "And now I don't know how to stop carrying it around with me."

Eddie reached out, placing a hand on Buck's shoulder. "You're not carrying it alone anymore," he said. "You've got me, Maddie, and the rest of the team. We're here for you, every step of the way."

Buck nodded, though the tears spilling down his cheeks betrayed the weight of his emotions. Eddie pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as Buck's shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Later that night, Eddie sat at the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him as he scrolled through pages of articles and forums about trauma and mental health. He'd been doing this every chance he got, trying to find ways to better support Buck as he navigated this rocky path.

One article caught his attention, detailing the effects of childhood trauma on adults with ADHD. Eddie read it carefully, his chest tightening with each sentence. The descriptions hit too close to home, painting a picture of a kid struggling to make sense of a world that felt overwhelming at every turn.

Eddie's mind drifted back to the stories Buck had shared with him over the past few weeks—the moments of chaos and pain that had shaped him into the man he was today. It made Eddie's heart ache, knowing how much Buck had endured, how much he was still carrying.

He glanced toward the guest room door, his mind racing with a mix of emotions. Buck was fighting so hard to move forward, but Eddie couldn't help but worry about how much more he could take.

Shutting the laptop, Eddie leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. He didn't have all the answers, but he was determined to figure this out. For Buck, for their future together—because giving up wasn't an option.

The house was quiet when Eddie finally went to bed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was still unresolved. As he lay staring at the ceiling, his mind drifted to Buck's words from earlier in the day, the pain and uncertainty in his voice still echoing in Eddie's ears.

Eddie rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket tighter around him. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he knew one thing for sure—he wasn't going anywhere.

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