someone to stay, ⁹¹¹

𝟎𝟐𝟕.

JJ felt like a zombie.

It had been a few days since she flushed the pills, and everything around her felt off. Colours seemed duller, sounds more distant, and she moved through the world like she was wading through a fog.

Her body ached, not in the way a sickness did, but in the way a hollowed-out chest felt after too many sleepless nights.

She was restless, exhausted, and unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. Her mind wouldn't quiet down, and she couldn't seem to feel anything.

But Sophia hadn't left her side—not once.

It was Christmas break, so she had no excuse to. Buck and Eddie were working, and Carla had flown out of town to see her family, so it was just the girls and Chris most days. They spent most of their time curled up in blankets on the couch, cycling through cheesy sitcoms and Christmas movies that they half-watched.

Sophia would make JJ tea and sit with her for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in silence. There were no expectations, no pressure. Just Sophia being there, the way she has always been.

JJ appreciated it more than she could say.

They were still JJ and Sophia. Soph and Jay. Still best friends, still sisters, still them. But at the same time, JJ couldn't shake the overwhelming emptiness in her chest.

Her brain felt sluggish like she was stuck on the outside of her own life. She'd space out during movies, stare at her phone screen and forget what she was looking at, and pick at her food without really tasting it.

Sleep was the worst.

She would lie awake for hours, her thoughts buzzing through her mind like static, her body exhausted but her mind refusing to shut down. When she did sleep, she'd wake up feeling like she hadn't rested at all.

And yet, Sophia was still there. When JJ zoned out, Sophia would nudge her back. When she got lost in her head, Sophia would pull her back in with some weird joke she saw online.

She didn't say much about it, didn't push, but JJ knew she was watching. She could feel it, the careful way Sophia kept an eye on her, the way she made sure she ate, how she subtly steered their conversations away from anything too heavy.

It wasn't perfect, but it was something, and JJ clung to it.

But she wasn't the only one struggling. When they weren't working, Buck and Eddie were constantly hovering.

Separately.

JJ wasn't blind. She saw how they avoided talking to each other unless absolutely necessary.

Saw the way Buck's face hardened whenever Eddie was in the room, and how Eddie's expression tightened when Buck spoke. They weren't fighting anymore, but they also weren't them. BuckandEddie turned into Buck and Eddie—JJ's Dad and Sophia and Chris' Dad. Firefighters Buckley and Diaz. The only thing keeping them in the same space was them.

Christopher had insisted on spending his Christmas break with the girls. And because Sophia had been staying at the Buckley home, the Diaz's had practically moved in.

Chris and Eddie stayed over with Sophia most nights, Chris sleeping in the spare room—which was basically his room anyway—whilst Eddie crashed on the couch.

And because Chris wanted to be near them, that meant Buck and Eddie had to be near each other, too.

It was weird.

They didn't fight, but the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Whenever they were in the same room, they mostly communicated through short, clipped sentences.