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

3 Months On

The station was buzzing with laughter and easy conversation as the team sat around the kitchen table, plates piled high with the leftovers of Bobby's famous chili. It was one of those rare slow days—no blaring alarms, no chaos—just the hum of life at the 118.

Buck leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs, a lazy grin stretched across his face as he listened to Chim and Hen bicker about the rules of a card game.

"I'm telling you, you can't just make up rules halfway through!" Chim declared, pointing accusingly at Hen.

"I'm not making them up. You just don't know how to play," Hen shot back, smirking as she shuffled the deck.

"Please, I know how to play—"

"Clearly not," Eddie interrupted with a grin, tossing a crumpled napkin at Chim.

The napkin bounced harmlessly off Chim's shoulder, and the table erupted into laughter. Even Ravi, sitting quietly at the end, let out a snort.

Buck couldn't stop smiling. It was moments like this—these simple, normal moments—that reminded him how far he'd come. Three months ago, he'd been drowning in panic and doubt, barely able to keep his head above water. But today? Today felt lighter.

It wasn't perfect. He still had hard days, moments where the old fears crept back in. But therapy had helped. Talking had helped. Letting people in had helped. And now, sitting here surrounded by his team—his family—he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Peace.

"Alright, alright!" Bobby's voice cut through the chatter, pulling everyone's attention. He stood at the head of the table, hands on his hips, his expression serious—but with the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Before we all start throwing fists over this card game," Bobby said, eyeing Chim and Hen, "I've got an idea. We haven't had a night out in forever, and it's a slow night. So—what do you say we hit the bar after shift?"

A chorus of enthusiastic responses broke out around the table.

"Yes!" Hen said immediately.

"I'm in," Eddie added with a nod, his eyes flicking to Buck.

Chim threw his hands up. "If Hen's buying the first round, count me in!"

Hen rolled her eyes. "Nice try, but you're definitely buying."

Bobby chuckled, holding up a hand. "Alright, that's settled, then. We'll head out after shift. Sound good?"

Buck glanced around the table, watching his team—his friends—banter back and forth. For once, he didn't feel like an outsider looking in. He was part of this, part of them.

"You in, Buck?" Eddie's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Buck turned to find Eddie watching him with that familiar look—the one that said he still worried, just a little, but trusted Buck to tell the truth.

Buck smiled. "Yeah. I'm in."

"Good." Eddie nodded, looking satisfied.

Buck's chest felt warm. A year ago, he probably would've hesitated, maybe even said no. But not now. Not when he felt like himself again.

A few hours later, the shift ended, and the team piled into their cars, following Bobby's lead to the bar. The night air was cool against Buck's face as he stepped out of the truck, zipping up his jacket and looking around.

The bar was tucked on a quiet corner downtown, a familiar spot the team had been to more times than he could count. Music and laughter spilled out from the entrance, the glow of neon lights reflecting off the windows.

"Alright, team," Bobby said, clapping his hands together as everyone gathered outside. "First round's on me."

"That's the spirit, Cap!" Chim cheered, already heading toward the door.

Buck grinned, shaking his head as he followed the others inside. The noise and warmth of the bar hit him immediately, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

He didn't mind it, though. Not tonight.