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

Through the night

Eddie stirred awake, unsure of what had pulled him from sleep. The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the bedside clock: 3:42 a.m.

His instincts immediately kicked in. Something felt off. Quietly, he pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. He didn't bother with slippers, padding barefoot to the hallway outside the guest room where Buck was sleeping.

He paused outside the door, listening for any sound. At first, there was nothing, just the oppressive stillness of the house at night. But then, he heard it—a muffled sound, barely audible through the closed door. A choked gasp, followed by a shaky inhale.

Eddie's stomach twisted. He knocked softly, his voice low and steady. "Buck? You okay?"

There was no answer.

Eddie opened the door slowly, careful not to startle him. The sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

Buck was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders trembling violently. The covers were twisted and half on the floor, as if he'd been thrashing in his sleep. His breathing was ragged, uneven, and Eddie could see the tension in his entire body, like he was trying to hold himself together and failing.

"Buck," Eddie said gently, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

Buck didn't respond. It was like he hadn't even noticed Eddie was there, lost in a storm he couldn't find his way out of.

Eddie crouched down in front of him, placing a hand lightly on Buck's knee. "Hey," he said softly, trying to ground him. "I'm right here."

Buck flinched at the touch but didn't pull away. Slowly, he lifted his head, and Eddie's heart broke at the sight. Buck's eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale and tear-streaked. He looked utterly defeated.

"I couldn't stop it," Buck whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Couldn't stop what?" Eddie asked, his tone calm and steady.

"The dream," Buck said, his voice breaking. "It was like...I was back there again. With her. With...with my dad. And no matter what I did, it just kept coming." He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "I felt like I couldn't breathe."

Eddie's chest tightened. "You're safe now," he said firmly. "It was just a dream. You're here, with me. You're not alone."

Buck shook his head, his breathing still shallow. "It felt so real," he said, his voice trembling. "I could hear them, Eddie. Her voice, his voice...everything. I tried to call Maddie, but she didn't answer. And then I..." He trailed off, his expression crumbling.

Eddie reached up, gently taking Buck's hands in his own to stop him from hurting himself. "Breathe with me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but firm. "Just focus on my voice."

Buck's eyes darted to Eddie's, filled with desperation.

"In through your nose," Eddie instructed, demonstrating a slow inhale. "And out through your mouth."

Buck tried to mimic him, but his breath hitched, catching in his throat.

"It's okay," Eddie said reassuringly. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

Buck nodded shakily, following Eddie's lead. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, the tension in his body easing just slightly.

"There you go," Eddie said softly. "That's it."

Buck closed his eyes, his hands still gripping Eddie's tightly. When he finally spoke again, his voice was raw. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie said firmly. "You've been through hell, Buck. It's going to take time to work through it all."

Buck shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. "It's too much," he whispered. "Sometimes it feels like...like I'll never be okay again."

Eddie's throat tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "You will," he said. "It doesn't feel like it now, but you will. And I'll be here every step of the way."

Buck looked at him, his expression filled with equal parts gratitude and despair. "I don't deserve you," he said, his voice cracking.

Eddie felt a pang in his chest. "Don't say that," he said quietly. "You deserve everything, Buck. You deserve to heal. To be happy. To know that you're loved."

Buck let out a shaky breath, his eyes brimming with fresh tears. "I'm trying," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I really am."

"I know you are," Eddie said, squeezing his hands gently. "And that's all that matters."

For a long moment, they sat there in silence, the weight of Buck's emotions filling the room. Eddie didn't rush him, didn't push for more. He just stayed there, a steady presence in the storm.

Eventually, Buck's breathing evened out completely, his shoulders relaxing as the worst of the breakdown passed. He looked exhausted, like the effort of holding himself together had drained him completely.

"You need to rest," Eddie said softly.

Buck hesitated, glancing at the bed with a wary expression.

Eddie stood, pulling back the covers and gesturing for Buck to lie down. "I'll stay until you fall asleep," he said.

Buck looked at him, his eyes filled with gratitude. He climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Eddie sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Buck's shoulder.

"You're not alone," Eddie said softly. "Not now, not ever."

Buck closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he finally drifted off to sleep. Eddie stayed there long after, his heart heavy but resolute.

Whatever it took, he'd be there. For Buck, for them—for the life they were building together, one step at a time.