evanbuckbuckley118 - Tumblr blog

evanbuckbuckley118 · 4 years

Text

The Weight Of Uncertainty

I’m back! Here is a fic that wasn’t requested, but was born out of my need to write something that accompanies the past episode. Enjoy!

Summary: Athena needs a ride home from the hospital and everyone is unavailable...except Buck. [This fic includes some family feels, and a well needed conversation about what’s next for Athena, and how Athena and Buck feels following her assault. This is a missing/additional scene for 3x17]

Word Count: 3658

Cross-posted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061786

It was safe to say the past few weeks had been...unexpected.

Athena never would have guessed that she would have found the serial rapist by following her hunch to check the storage units, nor would she have guessed that her decision to follow that lead would result in watching her own daughter's prom from the comfort of a hospital bed. That wasn't to say she would do anything differently, she was proud put an end to that psychopath's tirade. There just was a part of her that was exhausted from the entire ordeal.

Today was the day they were finally going to spring her. She'd been counting down the days, eager to recover in the comfort of her own home. Her body still seemed to scream out protests to her every movement, but this wasn't the first time Athena had been injured on the job, and she knew from experience that her ribs might never feel quite the same again. They would mend, but the bones will carry the same scars that her mind did - another permanent souvenir of a time she brushed with the reaper once again and won.

Athena wished silently that Bobby was still here with her. Early this morning, Harry had phoned saying he missed the bus to school. Being it was still early in the morning - Michael wasn't answering his phone, May had an exam this morning and couldn't skip or be late, and any of the family members from the 118 were still on shift for a few more minutes (working tirelessly to give their Captain time to spend with his recovering wife). Athena felt greedy watching Bobby leave to give Harry a ride after being spoiled by his devoted attention for the past few days. Yet, it also warmed her heart knowing how much he cared for their children.

While she thought the hospital wouldn't spring her until later that afternoon, about five minutes after Bobby left they'd already begun the process needed to get her out of here. She'd phoned Bobby, but the traffic echoed behind his worried voice saying he'd be longer than expected.

"There is just a few more pieces of paperwork Sergeant Grant, and then you'll be free to go," the nurse began explaining. "We expect to see you back in a few weeks for a check-up and to revisit your stitches and x-rays. You are on orders to rest, with as little physical exertion as possible."

"I understand," Athena said stoically. Even getting her shoes on a moment ago had felt like a gigantic task. While Athena was in the best shape of her life, her injuries from the assault and the days spent recovering here had completely wiped out any previous endurance she'd possessed. Being winded from tying a shoelace was not normal, much less worthy of praise or accomplishment. To make matters worse, her mostly dominant arm was also in a sling for the foreseeable future, complicating a number of previously easy tasks.

"We don't recommend driving in your condition yet, do you have someone to get you home safely?"

Opening her mouth to explain that she'd have to wait around a bit longer for her ride, or call for an Uber - Athena was cut off by the loud screech of a shoe abruptly skidding to a halt along the hospital floor.

"I came as fast as I could," Buck panted, out of breath with a large mischievous smile quirking up the left edge of his lips. "I'm her ride."

The nurses eyebrows were high as she took in the sight of Buck, who looked as disheveled as he usually did after a long shift. His hair curled and still damp, suggesting a quick shower with little care to drying off (almost like Harry when he was younger and insisted he could do it himself, only to have Athena run a second towel through his locks to ensure he wouldn't drip all over the house). The bags under his eyes betrayed his blinding smile.

Athena just sighed. "Buck, while I appreciate the thought, you are coming off a 24-hour shift. You know exhaustion can count as impaired driving just as much as alcohol, right?"

"Nonsense, it wasn't a busy shift," Buck argued despite the fact Athena would catch him in the obvious lie. There was no such thing as a slow shift for first responders in Los Angeles. He waved a hand dismissively "besides, Bobby called me and told me you don't have any other options."

Athena signed the remainder of the paperwork in her hands, and passed it back to the nurse who left quietly with a slight nod. "Just know if you break any traffic laws while I'm riding in that damn death trap Jeep of yours - I'll still tell my colleagues to write you a ticket."

Buck stepped into the room, and grabbed Athena's bag without being told. Slinging it over his shoulder and extending a hand out for Athena to grasp for support as she stands, he says "I guess you can take the officer out of the uniform, but not the uniform out of the officer."

Athena is ready to give Buck an eye roll so intense it might be audible, or at least chastise him for the profoundly cheesy remark - but her breath is stolen in a pained gasp as she stands and her bones right themselves into an upright position. She squeezes Buck's hand that she'd been using in a tight pulse, closing her eyes and swallowing tightly against the sudden onset of pain.

Just like recovery always happens, the pain ebbs into a dull and manageable ache. When she opens her eyes, Buck is right there in front of her, his grip on her hand providing a strength Athena draws from. "Hey, are you okay? Should I get the doctor?"

Nodding sharply, Athena finds her voice even if it is raspy. "I'm fine, just a bit sore. I want to go home Buck."

Buck offered twice on their slow journey to the vehicle to get Athena a wheelchair, but Athena refused. As long as she took these short steps one at a time, she could do this. If the sound of her ragged breath rattling fast out of her mouth due to exhaustion bothered Buck, he didn't say a word. The man's long legs had to ache to take longer strides at a faster pace, but he kept in line with Athena, muttering small encouragements for only her ears the entire way. "Almost there...you can do it...that's it...good..."

Once they'd reached the Jeep, Athena saw a glaring problem. The step to get into the tall vehicle was going to require an immense effort that Athena didn't have left.

Before she could voice her distress, Buck leaned Athena against the Jeep muttered something about needing "...one moment." He reached into the trunk and pulled out a small step stool, no doubt borrowed from the station. Placing it in front of the running board, he pointed at the set up he created and let out a small proud giggle. "See? I'm sorry there is no liftgate, but now we just have three small steps instead of one giant one!"

Athena's insistent pride wanted to be mad this solution because it felt so childlike. But the only other foreseeable option was having Buck lift her in, and that would only damage her ego further. Buck must have known that; and instead, the thoughtful man in front of her (that she often thought of like a son) had gone out of his way to think of the best possible solution to this minuscule problem. The fact that Buck had thought ahead about how to make this process as painless as possible for her, even with the short preparation time he must have been given from Bobby's sudden request, warmed her heart.

"Thank you, Buck," she said earnestly.

Buck had stopped on the way back to the Grant household to pick up some regular strength Tylenol from the drugstore. While he'd been in the check-out line, he'd realized that while the hospital no doubt would have wanted to give Athena a prescription for stronger pain medication, she'd probably refused. Whether she thought she could handle it on her own, or didn't want to bring any temptation around for her stressed husband, Buck didn't know. What he did know from his own experience is that after getting some sleep, she was going to be in a world of pain. So despite Athena's protests that he didn't have to make this stop, this was the least he could do.

He'd taken care to drive like a true gentleman. Buck avoided all the potholes, didn't speed, took the corners at a below reasonable speed to avoid any extra jostling. Once they'd arrived to the empty and quiet house, Buck had maneuvered Athena to bedroom, and aided her in getting settled and comfortable with an extra blanket from the cupboard. His hands itched to provide more help.

Buck patted her foot twice and began to leave, "I'll go make you some tea."

"You really don't have to do that Buck, please don't fuss over me," she protested.

"I don't have to," Buck acknowledged. With a passionate voice and a less passionate shrug, he continued. "I want to. You and Bobby took such good care of me after my leg was crushed, let me return the favor."

A silence fell over the room. Athena was stunned by his generosity, but also by the fact she could hear hurt and worry in his voice. Was he alright?

Before she could ask about his well being, Buck was already gone. He'd left the room, and she heard the tea kettle settle on the stove top. The space between them gave Athena a moment to think. It wasn't often Athena caught Buck at a vulnerable moment, as she did spend less time around him than her husband did. While the pair of them thought of Buck as a son, that also meant the worries that came with having children in your life extended to him. Athena would be lying if she said she didn't care for the boy in a parental way, especially after all the man had gone through in the past year. She worried about his mental state, especially because it seemed that Buck always put on such an enthusiastic front. From experience, she knew it made things difficult to tell when Buck was truly happy from when he was only feigning the emotion to mask darker feelings. It was little clues in his voice and facial features that betrayed him if Athena looked quick enough.

Athena heard Buck shuffle around to get the mugs as the kettle began to hiss. She tracked the sound of his footsteps around her kitchen, noticing they paused for a moment. There was a ruffle of paper, and another period of silence. The footsteps then resumed, and there was Buck in the doorway of her bedroom. He made no move to enter the space. There was a mug of steaming tea in one hand, a tri-folded letter in the other.

"They're giving you a commendation?" Buck asked, looking at the letter and then back at Athena. "I swear I didn't mean to overstep and read your mail, it was sitting on the table and I just got worried-"

"Yes Buck," Athena said to pause his rambling. "Not sure what good it does, but they are giving it to me anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't do this job for the acknowledgements Buck. No commendation can fix those victim's lives and what happened to them. No commendation guarantees that justice will be served to the man who did this..." Athena paused, and wanting to shift the focus off herself and onto Buck in an attempt to get him to open up. "No commendation heals the fear I still see in my family's eyes as they worry unnecessarily about me and are haunted with new traumatic memories."

"Yeah, I know Bobby and the kids have taken this really hard," Buck moves into the room, handing off the tea to Athena and resting the letter on her dresser.

After a long sip of the soothing liquid, Athena places it to the side. She grabs at Buck's hand weakly and tugs on it as a silent plea for him to sit. "And you."

"What? Me?" He shakes his head fervently. "No-"

"Yes, you. You are my family too, Buck."

"I'm fine, Athena," He says, but the voice is small. Buck is doing a poor job convincing Athena, and from the way his eyes well up and he bows his head to the floor, he isn't convincing himself either.

"Is that why your hands are shaking? Why your looking at me like I'm going to break? Why your fussing around the house looking for ways to be helpful?"

Athena knew from her training that in any traumatic incident, there was never just one victim. The secondary traumatization of crime can be felt by bystanders, witnesses, family, even strangers who hear about it later. Worse, often these people don't feel supported or feel that they have a right to feel the emotions that come with such trauma because they weren't directly effected or impacted. For all that Buck has done for her today, Athena is determined to sit here and give Buck a safe space to discuss his feelings.

"I don't think you fully understand how badly you scared us...and me," Buck began. Athena appreciated his honesty already. "When we got the call from dispatch...I don't like feeling powerless, and it was all I could feel. We were listening to you fighting back, but we had no eyes on you. Without a visual, we didn't know if you were grunting from the exertion of winning, or the pain of losing. There was nothing I could do but sit as we drove towards you in hopes we wouldn't be too late. There was nothing I could do as I watched Bobby spiral into thinking how he might lose his wife for a second time. There was nothing I could do as I watched the team prepare themselves for the worst. I was preparing myself to have to tell Harry and May and Michael about how hard you fought to get back to them, even if it wasn't enough, because I knew Bobby would be too devastated to do it if anything serious happened to you. The gunshot rang out over our radio, and there was nothing I could do to make it better Athena-"

Buck explanation ran short, as he felt overcome with emotion. He was gripping Athena's hand now in a role reversal from only a few hours earlier. Athena squeezed back, grounding him from a panic attack or flashback. Silently, she hoped it gave him strength as much as it reinforced him he wasn't alone.

"I know you felt powerless Buck, and I'm sorry you had to go through that experience. I know you felt like you couldn't and didn't do anything, but I want you to know that the thought of my family is what kept me fighting," Athena explained. "The memories of my love for all of you, and all the things we haven't yet done together, that's what kept me going. You did do something Buck, the love you've shown my family and me was part of the reason I kept going. You did that."

Buck sniffed back the last of his tears, putting on that strong front that Athena knows is there to protect in times like this when he feels most exposed. "I just wish I could have done more for you, Athena."

Sensing that Buck wants to shift away from this conversation, and because exhaustion is pulling at her to wrap it up as well, Athena smiles widely. "Well, you've already made a pretty good start, but I do have one thing you can do for me Buck."

That seemed to do the trick, he was already perking up as his head snapped up and his eyes went wide. He smiled softly, and Athena thought to how once over drinks Hen described Buck like a golden retriever. She had to admit, the resemblance was uncanny. Buck was always willing to give so much of himself to others. Later, Athena might finish their previous discussion with him in more depth. She does want to talk to him about therapy and caring for himself better, but right now she pushes those worries aside. "Anything you need, I can do it," he says, ready for action.

"You can stay right here Buck, and take a nap with me until Bobby gets home," Athena explained. She carefully shuffled a little more over to the side, exposing the open side of the bed as Buck sputtered over his protest.

"N-no, Athena. I can't do that, you need to rest without distraction or someone else moving the bed around, and I really should be getting back to my apartment-"

"You have just come off a long shift taking care of people, only to have to take care of a poor injured woman, and now you expect me to let you drive back to that shell of a place when you are practically dead on your feet? I'll worry less and get a better sleep if you stay here."

"I'll take the couch then Athena-"

"-Buck, don't argue with me. That couch does no favors for anyone's back, and the firehouse can't be down another member. Just lie down here, for at least one hour. Bobby will be back by then, and then you can leave."

Buck was still as he sat on the bed, contemplating his options. He must have realized there was no arguing with her by now, because for all he tried to put up a fight, he began to move towards getting settled. It took some time, but he was growing to learn that Athena is always right. "Just for a little while," he submits conditionally.

The man rounds to the other side of the bed and attempts to lay down without moving the bed as much as possible. The whole ordeal leaves him looking stiff as a board, facing away, which just won't do. Athena huffs, and immediately tugs on his shoulder until he rolls onto his other side, at which point Athena guides his head to her shoulder. Looping her free arm around his body as if he were a child, Buck finally relaxes.

She really was tired, more so than she'd admit to anyone. Within seconds, she felt herself nodding off towards a deep slumber.

Which of course means that Buck has to choose this moment to speak up again.

"Are you going back after this Athena?"

It was a statement more than a question; yet, the puzzling part was that as much as Athena tried to read into Buck's emotive voice, she couldn't place what emotion came with it. She opened one eye to peer down at Buck, but his normally expressive face was blank as he peered up at her curiously. "Bobby mentioned you were feeling conflicted about returning to the job after your medical leave," he offered as an afterthought to Athena's silence.

Bobby had told Buck the truth. Athena didn't know if it was just a knee jerk fear reaction after a traumatic event, or if she really was feeling ready to retire from policing. She was conflicted, confused, unsure how to move forward after this particular event. Her thirty years on the force and everything that came with it made the decision that much harder. It seemed like all she had time to do lately was think, but she was no closer to making this decision about her future.

"I honestly don't know."

Sleep was pulling fast at the both of them despite the conversation, but Buck continued on. His voice was only laced with exhaustion as it faded in volume. "After my accident, all I wanted was to get back. But that's because being a firefighter was my entire identity. I know policing is a big part of yours, but you also have other factors I don't. And you have a family, and Bobby, and the 118. I'm not trying to pull you towards a certain decision," he assured, and Athena believed him. "I'm completely impartial on this decision. It is yours and yours alone to make. I'm just letting you know that you will still be you, no matter your occupation Athena. To leave or to stay, or to take a small leave and then stay, the choice is yours. No matter what you choose Athena, you'll be supported either way by everyone. We just want you to be happy."

Athena was back to a stunned silence. Even though Buck's words in no way helped her clear the fog surrounding her decision, it did ease a part of her. She was always worried about what others think, from her mother to her family. The opinions of those around her always pulled her one way or another. It was a comfort to have it said aloud that this was a decision she gets to make for herself. Even though she knew her family would support her regardless, it was reassuring and nice to hear it once in a while; especially from her surrogate son.

"Thank you, Buck."

The reply fell on deaf ears, Buck's breathing already evened out in a pattern that signaled the beginning stages of sleep. Athena was all to happy to follow suit, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time.

And if when Bobby came home to the sight of his wife and son getting some well needed and deserved rest together and decided to let them sleep the day away until dinner was ready, no one else needed to know.

#my writing #118 fire fam #found family #Athena Grant #Evan Buckley #evan buck buckley #evanbuckbuckley118 #911 show #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fanfiction #911 fox #911onfox

14 notes · View notes

evanbuckbuckley118 · 4 years

Text

Golf On TV (Songfic - Maddie x Chimney)

Hello everyone! This is my first fic for the 9-1-1 fandom, I appreciate all critiques!

Prompt received: “Hey. I noticed that you said you enjoy writing song fics. Could you write one based off of the song Golf on TV by Lennon Stella? Could you make it Madney centric?” (From @maddiehans)

Inspiration: The parts of this song that stand out to me are the themes of healing from past relationships, being confused at how things are in a new relationship because of previous learning experiences, and being confused about people’s tendencies. I took these three themes and tried to incorporate them into this fic!

Lyric: “Some people think it's supposed to hurt/Like it couldn't be real/If it's putting you first/But some people watch golf on TV/And neither of those things make sense to me”

Word Count: 1740

Cross-posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604478

Dating Doug had taught Maddie a number of things. First, chivalry was dead - so there was no need to expect any kind gestures from her husband. Every gift or minuscule kindness Doug gave came with conditions, adding up to a score Maddie could never repay even if she dedicated a lifetime to doing so. There was also no room for Maddie to shine. Instead, in public she became the figure that stood behind Doug, hiding behind his shadow because that was where he made her feel as though she belonged. Due to this, Maddie had spent a good portion of her adulthood trying to shrink herself. The goal always became to hide, to disappear, to avoid any reason for punishment.

But then she met Howard.

It'd be a cliche to say everything changed, because it didn't really. Maddie still had remnants of the girl Doug had shaped her to be, but her growth was undeniable. She was attempting every day to learn her worth, and a lot of that was because of Howard’s encouragement.

Dating Howard forced Maddie to confront the pieces of her identity left behind after Doug. The way Howard insisted on opening her car door for her at her every entrance and exit confronted the belief that had been instilled in her that she wasn't allowed to have others put her before themselves. The way Howard seemed to only have eyes for her and refuse interest in women who made advances on him when they went out to karaoke made her wonder how Howard didn't find interest in having multiple partners, because prior to their marriage (and suspicions and threats during) Doug had always expressed interest in other women, pointing out the flaws in which Maddie didn't match up to his standards. The way Howard showed her off in public didn't make her feel like a piece of property being owned, but rather Howard showed her off with a pride and adoration that left Maddie floored. There was no reason or opportunity to hide when she was with Howard, and she wasn’t used to the spotlight after years of walking in Doug’s shadow.

Every aspect of dating the man known by the 118 as 'Chimney' was in direct opposition with everything Maddie had learned about love. There was a kindness, a patience, and a sense of equal footing and stability that were never present previously in her life. Howard never raised his hand (he hardly ever even raised his voice), he didn't treat everyday gestures as an constant adding score that had to be re-payed, he never pressured her many boundaries and treated the progression of their relationship with such patience, and he treated every person he met with endless compassion.

Maddie finds herself overwhelmed sometimes, and unable to fully express the honesty of the feelings she has for Chimney, even when she knows those indescribable feelings are reciprocated. These emotions were too foreign for her to find the words to properly describe, and she didn't want to use the kneejerk terms she'd used to defend herself in the past from her abusive husband. Doug always told her that a lesser man than himself would have left Maddie a long time ago because of her mannerisms. Yet, throughout everything, Chimney remained. It puzzles her on the best of days. There is a part of her that's been ingrained to feel unworthy of Chimney's love.

The intensity of these differences and her own feelings catches her off guard some days more than others. Like today.

Maddie had come over in the evening for their regular weekly date night. It was too easy to remember the nights that Maddie had previously spent alone slaving in front of a stove, struggling to make a quality dinner before Doug came home - but those nights were being rewritten in real time as Maddie and Chimney split the work of preparing dinner while recounting their work days and cracking jokes. There were no worries about the mess on the counters, or if the final outcome tasted less than spectacular. It was about time spent together, and there was nothing Maddie loved more than her time with Howard.

After dinner, the two of them traveled to the couch. Before they moved, Chimney had grabbed two glasses and a wine bottle from his cupboard. As he sat down, he looked over at Maddie with one hand under the bottle and another behind its neck, showing it off with a signature smile. "I figured we'd end the night with your favorite white wine," he stated, before attempting to pull out the cork.

Maddie attempted to tell him that pulling it out wasn't going to work, but was cut off by her own giggles. The cork remained stubbornly in place, certainly not for a lack of effort on Chim's part. She loved how tough Chimney was, but even his strength was no match for the task at hand.

He hung his head in defeat, and with a small laugh said "My apologies Maddie, I'm going to have to grab the corkscrew from the kitchen."

While Chimney rummaged in the kitchen, Maddie turned her eyes to the television. The television had been left on some sports channel since her arrival, possibly long before. The muffled sportscasters had been the soundtrack to their night, but the volume was so soft that Maddie had muted it in her mind during their previous conversations. "I didn't know you liked golf?" She questioned, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot that was on. I like watching the tournaments sometimes," Chimney lightly shouted from the kitchen, his voice just raised enough to reach across the distance without booming in the small square footage of the apartment.

Maddie pursed her lips. "Have you ever played yourself?"

Rounding the corner of the couch, he stepped in front of the coffee table to be able to pour the wine. "God no," he laughed. "This is a sport best left to professionals, I'd probably let go of the club mid-swing and cause an injury."

"But you still like to watch it?" Maddie questions.

Placing the bottle down, he wipes his hands on his dress pants before moving to sit down. It was endearing to Maddie how nervous he still felt around her, wanting to impress her, oblivious to how much he impresses her every minute just with his presence. "I know a lot of people think it is boring, but these guys sometimes play in grueling weather conditions for hours on end," Chimney explains while passing Maddie her filled glass. "The game is so competitive, every shot is crucial. Sometimes the players hit the bunker or the water, and that sucks. But, I think it's fascinating how they pull themselves out of their heads and shake it off. They continue to aim for that coveted hole in one. There is no greater excitement than that."

Maddie sipped her drink longingly, fascinated how this man can conceptualize such a deep life message out of what she considered to be one of the most boring games imaginable. "That's really beautiful Howie."

"We don't have to stay on it though-" Chimney started, leaning forward to grab the remote.

"-No, if you want to we can watch it-" Maddie interrupted, shifting herself to lean into his side as he leaned back again. She slotted herself under his arm, looping one of her own around his waist as she pillowed her head on his chest.

"-I don't want you to watch anything you don't want to watch," Chimney finishes with passion, passing the remote with a light grip over to Maddie.

Maddie couldn't help but tense. There had been nights with Doug where she'd criticized his viewing choices for the night, and ended up with a remote thrown at her temple in retaliation. The instances where she had gotten to choose their entertainment choice for the night were few and far between.

But as she looked up at Chim with confusion on her face, she realized while looking into Chim's eyes that his words and gesture were genuine. Maddie could only guess that the look in his eyes was adoration, still not having enough experience to trustingly label it as such. Chim's vocal tone and subtle handover of the remote weren't vicious in the way Doug's had often been. Instead, by saying that Maddie shouldn't watch something she didn't want to, what he was really saying was more generalized - he was saying you shouldn't be forced to do anything you don't want to.

And that's the true difference isn't it? Maddie is working hard on her recovery, but the hardest thing has been learning to ask for what she wants. She's spent so long being submissive to others that she's forgotten how to ask or take from others. Maddie knows that Chimney knows this, and probably knew it before even she could acknowledge that part of herself.

The truth is that Maddie does know what she wants. Pushing aside the selfishness and the realization that her growth does involve leaving the guilt her younger self would feel for taking what she wants behind, Maddie slowly pushes upwards to steal a kiss on his lips. She focuses on nothing else but cherishing the moment, while simultaneously breathing all the trust she has for Chimney into the kiss.

"The game is almost over anyway, we'll switch it after," Maddie compromises when they break. As she sinks back into his side, Chim slowly brushes one of her curls over her ear.

His classic smirk breaks across his face at her antics, knowing she wants to appease him as much as he wants to treasure her. "Sounds like a plan.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the night is through - there are two things Maddie still cannot understand about the men who have been in her life. With Doug, she cannot comprehend what part of him thought it would be okay to treat Maddie the way he did. With Chimney, she cannot comprehend why the man prefers to watch golf in his free time.

What she can understand is which of these issues she'd rather have to deal with, and which man she'd rather have by her side. This was the next chapter in Maddie’s fresh start, and if Chimney could put up with the remnants of her trauma - she could put up with his choice of television, regardless of how boring.

#911 fic #911 show #911 fox #911onfox #911 fanfic #madney #Maddie x chimney #chimney x maddie #evanbuckbuckley118 #fandomismymiddlename #fanfiction #fanfic #xv13

12 notes · View notes