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

Drowning

Buck felt like he was drowning. The weight of everything—his anxiety, the endless thoughts that clawed at his mind, the fear that he was losing control—had finally become too much. He'd spent so long pretending that he was okay, telling everyone, including Eddie, that he was fine. But it wasn't true. And now, standing in Eddie's arms, he couldn't hide it anymore.

The tears kept coming, hot and relentless, but this time, he didn't fight them. Eddie was holding him, his arms strong and steady, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Buck didn't feel alone. He didn't feel like he was drowning in a sea of his own thoughts.

But even as he let himself be held, a part of him felt the familiar twinge of guilt. He was supposed to be strong for Eddie. He was supposed to have it together. But here he was, falling apart in Eddie's arms, and it didn't feel like he could stop.

"I'm sorry," Buck whispered, his voice muffled by Eddie's shirt. "I didn't mean to... I didn't want you to see me like this."

Eddie pulled back just enough to look Buck in the eyes, his hand gently cupping Buck's face. "Buck, there's nothing to apologize for. You don't have to hide from me. Not ever. I'm here, okay?"

Buck's eyes searched Eddie's face, looking for any sign of disappointment, any trace of judgment, but all he found was concern and love. The kind of love that Eddie always seemed to offer, even when Buck felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Why... why do I keep doing this?" Buck asked, his voice shaking. "Why can't I just... be okay?"

Eddie's thumb brushed over Buck's cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen. "Because you're human, Buck. You're allowed to feel this way. You don't have to be okay all the time. You don't have to have it all figured out."

Buck closed his eyes, letting Eddie's words wash over him. He wanted to believe that—really, he did—but the voice in his head, the one that had been telling him for so long that he wasn't good enough, kept whispering in the back of his mind. It told him that he was weak, that he was broken, that no one could really love him the way Eddie did.

"I don't know how to do this," Buck admitted, his voice cracking. "I don't know how to get better. I don't know if I even can."

Eddie's expression softened, his eyes full of compassion. "You don't have to have all the answers, Buck. And you don't have to do it alone. We'll figure it out together. One step at a time."

Buck's chest tightened, a knot forming in his throat. He wanted to believe Eddie. He really did. But a part of him was terrified that the dark thoughts, the overwhelming feelings, would never go away. That he would never be enough.

"What if I can't get better?" Buck whispered, the fear in his voice unmistakable. "What if I keep spiraling, and there's no way out?"

Eddie didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled Buck close again, his arms enveloping him in a way that made Buck feel safe—protected, even. Eddie's warmth was a comfort, but there was something else in the way he held him. A promise.

"You will get better," Eddie said quietly, his voice firm with conviction. "I won't let you go through this alone. And we'll find a way to make it through, even on the days when it feels impossible. Together."

Buck's breath hitched in his throat, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to let go of the constant fear. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe he didn't have to have all the answers. Maybe it was okay to not be okay, as long as Eddie was there to help him through it.

"Thank you," Buck murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie pulled back slightly, just enough to look Buck in the eyes. "For what?"

Buck swallowed hard, his chest tightening with emotion. "For not giving up on me."

Eddie's expression softened, and without saying another word, he kissed Buck's forehead gently, as if trying to convey everything that words couldn't.

"You'll never have to worry about that," Eddie whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."