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

Everyone thinks i'm a mess now

The next day at the firehouse, the subtle signs of Buck's struggles were starting to catch more attention. While the team didn't know the full scope of what was happening, they had all begun to notice the small changes: his withdrawn demeanor, the shadows under his eyes, and the way his uniform seemed to hang looser on him than before.

Buck sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of coffee he hadn't touched. The team was bustling around him—Chim and Hen were teasing each other about a botched pancake flip, and Bobby was going over some paperwork. It was normal, warm, and familiar, but Buck felt disconnected, like he was watching it all from behind a glass wall.

"You good, Buckaroo?" Chim's voice broke through his fog.

Buck looked up, startled. "Yeah. Fine."

Chim frowned, his usual playful expression fading. "You sure? You've been kind of...out of it."

"I said I'm fine," Buck snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness in his tone. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, it's okay," Chim said quickly, holding up his hands. "Just checking in."

Hen leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes studying Buck. "Buck, you know you can talk to us, right? Whatever's going on, you don't have to handle it alone."

Buck forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, Hen. I appreciate it."

The day's first call came in—a structure fire at a small apartment building. As the team suited up and headed to the truck, Buck moved mechanically, his mind already racing.

Inside the truck, Eddie kept sneaking glances at Buck. His partner was sitting stiffly, staring out the window with his jaw clenched. Eddie wanted to say something, but with the rest of the team there, he didn't want to push.

When they arrived at the scene, Buck forced himself to focus. The adrenaline helped, sharpening his mind as they worked to evacuate residents and contain the blaze. But as the call wore on, his energy began to wane.

"Buck, stay with me!" Eddie shouted as they maneuvered a frightened elderly woman down the stairs. Buck blinked, realizing he'd slowed down, his feet dragging.

"I'm good," he said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Eddie didn't look convinced, but he didn't press.

Back at the firehouse, the usual post-call chatter filled the room. Chim was recounting a particularly awkward moment with one of the residents, trying to lighten the mood. Buck sat at the edge of the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"You okay, Buck?" Bobby asked gently.

Buck nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just tired."

But Bobby wasn't convinced. He exchanged a look with Athena, who had stopped by for lunch. She gave a slight nod, silently encouraging him to dig a little deeper.

"Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?" Bobby asked.

Buck hesitated, his stomach twisting, but he followed Bobby into his office.

"What's going on?" Bobby asked as soon as the door closed.

Buck sat down heavily in the chair across from him, his shoulders slumping. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Buck," Bobby said, his tone firm but kind, "you're not fine. And that's okay. But I need you to be honest with me."

Buck swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Bobby," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just...I feel like I'm falling apart."

Bobby leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk. "You've been through a lot, Buck. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. But you don't have to go through this alone. We're all here for you."

Buck nodded, but he didn't look up. He could feel the weight of Bobby's gaze, heavy with concern.

"Have you been eating?" Bobby asked gently.

Buck flinched at the question, his jaw tightening. "I'm not hungry most of the time," he admitted reluctantly.

Bobby's expression softened. "That's not something to ignore, Buck. Your body needs fuel, especially with everything you've been dealing with."

Buck nodded again, but the shame was already sinking in.

Later that evening, Eddie found Buck in the guest room, sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his lap. He looked up as Eddie walked in, his expression guarded.

"Bobby talked to me today," Eddie said, leaning against the doorframe.

Buck's face fell. "Great. Now everyone thinks I'm a mess."

"No one thinks that," Eddie said quickly, crossing the room to sit beside him. "We're just worried about you. That's all."

Buck sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I don't even know how to explain what's going on. It's like...everything feels too much and not enough at the same time."

Eddie reached over, resting a hand on Buck's knee. "You don't have to figure it out all at once. But you do need to take care of yourself. That means eating, sleeping, and letting people help you."

Buck looked at him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I'm trying, Eddie. I really am."

"I know," Eddie said softly. "And I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together."

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Buck felt a small glimmer of hope. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hold onto.