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mmso-notlikethat · 1 day ago

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Bucktommy Ι WC: 3206 Ι Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Panic Attack(s), implied pow

Buck wasn’t sure what was worse: the stifling heat pressing down on them or the way Tommy’s breathing was turning erratic by the second. This was a catastrophic building collapse, the kind that mobilized every station in the area—and the moment their paths crossed, the nightmare only got worse.

They’d both been in tight spaces before. It came with the job. But this? This was different. The ceiling had given way, leaving them trapped in what felt like a box barely big enough to fit them both. Their turnout gear made it worse, adding bulk to an already suffocating situation. The air was thick with smoke and dust, and every shallow breath Buck took felt like inhaling sandpaper.

Tommy, who’d been quiet—too quiet—suddenly pressed his back against the debris behind him, his helmet knocking against the wall as his breathing became audible over the comms.

“Hey, this is awkward, huh?” Buck tried to inject some levity, his voice muffled by his mask. “Just being crammed with your ex in the world’s worst escape room.”

Tommy didn’t respond. His gloved hands were trembling slightly, and Buck could hear his breaths coming faster, shallower.

“Tommy?” Buck’s tone shifted, the humor fading. “Hey, you with me?”

Tommy’s head jerked up, but his eyes—visible through his mask—were wide, unfocused. He shook his head slightly, muttering something Buck couldn’t catch over the hiss of air tanks and the distant sound of fire crackling.

And then it clicked. Buck had seen this before, though never from Tommy. Panic. Real, gut-wrenching panic.

“Tommy, hey, it’s okay,” Buck said, his voice steady but urgent. He reached out, resting a hand on Tommy’s arm. “You’re okay. We’re going to get out of here.”

Tommy’s hands shot up to his chest, fumbling with the straps of his oxygen harness. “I—I can’t—” His words broke off into a choking sound, his breaths coming in short frantic gasps.

“Tommy, stop!” Buck grabbed his hands, keeping them from ripping the mask off. “Listen to me. You need to breathe. Just focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

But Tommy wasn’t hearing him. He was spiraling, his body starting to shake as the panic took over. Buck’s heart was racing now, but he forced himself to stay calm. Tommy needed him to be calm.

“Tommy, listen.” Buck leaned in closer, their helmets almost touching. “I’m right here. It’s me. Evan.” He hadn’t called himself that in months—since before the breakup—but it slipped out now, instinctive and raw. “Look at me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Tommy’s eyes darted to his, wild and desperate.

“That’s it,” Buck said, his voice softer now. “Just keep looking at me. We’re in this together. You’re not alone.”

Tommy’s hands clawed at Buck’s turnout coat, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. “I—I can’t breathe,” he choked out.

“You can,” Buck insisted. “Your gear’s heavy, I know, but you’ve done this before. You’re the strongest guy I know, Tommy. You’ve got this.”

Tommy was shaking his head, but Buck kept talking, his voice steady and even. He reached up and adjusted Tommy’s straps, loosening them just enough to take the pressure off his chest. “There, that’s better. Just take one breath at a time. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Match me, okay?”

Buck exaggerated his breathing, drawing in a long, slow breath and letting it out just as slowly. “See? You can do it.”

Tommy’s breaths hitched, uneven at first, but slowly matched Buck’s rhythm. The seconds stretched unbearably, but Buck held his focus. One breath. Then another.

“That’s it,” Buck murmured. “You’re doing great. Just keep going.”

Minutes passed—though it felt like hours—before Tommy forced out “I—I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Buck shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Even as Buck reassured him, Tommy’s hand remained clenched in his turnout coat, his grip unwavering, almost unconscious. The space around them felt smaller with every passing second, the air pressing in like an invisible weight. Sweat trickled down Buck’s spine under his turnout, but he ignored it, focusing on the man in front of him.

“Tommy,” Buck said again, louder this time, as if sheer volume could break through the haze in Tommy’s mind. “I need you to focus on me. Look at me. It’s just you and me here, okay?”

Tommy’s hands fumbled again, this time clutching at his helmet as though it were suffocating him. His shoulders were heaving, and Buck could hear the sharp, staccato gasps of his breathing echoing in the small space.

“Shit,” Buck muttered under his breath. He placed both hands firmly on Tommy’s shoulders, grounding him. “Listen to me, baby.” The name slipping, but neither of them noticed, “You’ve been through worse than this. You’ve done this a hundred times. You’re the guy everyone counts on. You can do this.”

Tommy’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Buck’s for a brief moment. There was no recognition there—just raw, unfiltered fear. “I can’t,” Tommy whispered, his voice breaking. “It’s… too much. I can’t breathe.”

Buck’s heart twisted at the sheer vulnerability in Tommy’s voice. This wasn’t the stoic, unflappable man Buck had known—the man who flew them into cat-5 hurricane with no hesitation. This was someone who was unraveling, someone who needed him now more than ever.

“You can breathe,” Buck said firmly, refusing to let Tommy slip any further. “You’re not alone in this. I’m right here, yeah? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tommy’s grip on Buck’s coat tightened, his gloved fingers digging into the thick fabric. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Not again,” he said, his words barely audible over the crackling of distant flames and the muffled sounds of the world outside.

Buck frowned. “Not again? Tommy, what do you mean?”

Tommy didn’t answer, his breathing accelerating again as his eyes darted around the confined space. It hit Buck like a punch to the gut—this wasn’t just claustrophobia. This was something deeper, something rooted in Tommy’s past.

The army. The PTSD Tommy had never really talked about.

Buck’s mind raced as he tried to piece it together. He didn’t have all the details, but he didn’t need them. What mattered was getting Tommy through this.

“Hey, listen to me,” Buck said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. He leaned in, his helmet almost touching Tommy’s “I don’t know what you’re seeing right now, but you’re not there. You’re here, with me. This isn’t the past. We’re going to get out of this, but I need you to come back to me first. Can you do that?”

Tommy’s breaths were still ragged, but something in Buck’s words seemed to reach him. His eyes flickered back to Buck’s, and for a split second, there was a glimmer of recognition.

“Evan,” Tommy rasped, the name tumbling out like a lifeline. “I—I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Buck said, his heart squeezing at the sound of his name. “And you’re doing great. Just keep trying. We’re in this together.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, broken only by the distant sounds of the fire team working to clear the debris. Buck shifted slightly, trying to make himself more comfortable in the cramped space, but it was impossible. The walls were too close, the heat too oppressive.

He noticed Tommy’s hands trembling again, tugging weakly at the straps of his harness again. “It’s too tight,” Tommy choked out. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”

Buck acted quickly, loosening the straps just enough to relieve the pressure without compromising the seal of the mask. “There,” he said. “That’s better, right? Just focus on breathing with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You’ve got this.”

Tommy tried to mimic Buck’s exaggerated breathing, but it was still uneven, shaky. Buck didn’t let up. “That’s it. One breath at a time. You’re not in this by yourself, Tommy. I’m right here, and I’ve got you.”

Tommy’s grip on Buck’s coat didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, like he was afraid Buck might disappear if he let go. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke again. “I thought… I thought I’d moved past this. I thought I could handle it.”

“Hey,” Buck said gently, “there’s no ‘handling’ something like this. It’s not a weakness, Tommy. It’s just something you go through, and you’re not going through it alone. Not now.”

Tommy’s head dropped forward, resting briefly against Buck’s chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell Buck that he was breaking through the panic, bit by bit.

“You’re doing great,” Buck repeated, his voice steady and calm. He adjusted his own position slightly, ignoring the discomfort as he stayed close to Tommy. “Just keep breathing. We’ll get out of this soon.”

The sound of shifting debris and distant shouting pierced the heavy silence in the confined space. Buck froze, straining to hear. The words were muffled at first, but then they grew clearer.

“Kinard! Buckley! Can you hear us?”

It was Tommy’s team. Relief flooded Buck, but it was short-lived as he glanced at Tommy, whose breathing was still ragged, his wide eyes darting around as if the walls were closing in again. The panic hadn’t fully released its grip on him.

“They’re here, Tommy,” Buck said firmly, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’re getting out. You’re going to be okay.”

Tommy barely reacted, still trapped in his own mind, his hands twitching slightly where they gripped Buck’s turnout coat.

The rubble above shifted again, light spilling into the tight space as the team above worked to clear the debris. A voice called out, clearer now. “Kinard! Buckley! Respond if you can hear us!”

“Here!” Buck shouted back. “We’re here! We’re okay!”

“No, no, no…” Tommy was mumbling, his voice trembling as his head shook violently. “No, they can’t find us. They can’t. They can’t.”

Buck froze for a moment, the words hitting him like a gut punch. “Tommy, what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice careful but laced with confusion. “They’re here to help us. They’re our team. Your team.”

Tommy’s eyes darted around the confined space, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head again. “No, if they find us… if they find me—” His voice cracked, and he clamped his mouth shut as if he’d already said too much.

“Tommy,” Buck said slowly, trying to keep his tone steady, even as alarm coursed through him. He reached out, gripping Tommy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. This is your team, Tommy. They’re not here to hurt us. They’re here to pull us out.”

Tommy flinched at the contact, his head jerking back to look at Buck. His eyes were wild, unseeing. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice raw and desperate. “You don’t know what it’s like—what happens when they find you. You think it’s over, but it’s not. It’s never over.”

Buck’s stomach churned, the weight of Tommy’s words sinking in, though the full meaning remained just out of reach. He didn’t need the details–the pain in Tommy’s voice said enough.

“Tommy, listen to me,” Buck said, his grip tightening. “This isn’t that. This is now. And now, they’re pulling us out, okay? It’s over. Whatever you’re thinking about—it’s not happening again.”

Tommy’s lips parted as though to argue, but no words came. His trembling intensified, his breaths growing more frantic.

“They’re calling for us, Tommy,” Buck said firmly, leaning closer. “And you’re going to let them find you. This time is different, Tommy. You’re safe, and I’m right here with you.”

A few seconds later, hands reached down through the gap. “We’re pulling you out!” one of the firefighters yelled.

At the sudden movement above them, Tommy flinched violently, his panic hitting a breaking point. Instead of clinging to Buck, he shoved him away, pressing himself back, but there was nowhere to go.

“No!” Tommy choked out, shaking his head in wild denial. “No, they can’t—don’t touch me! I can’t—” His voice cracked as he pushed harder against the debris, trying to disappear into the unyielding surface.

“Tommy!” Buck said sharply, shifting closer despite the cramped space. “Stop! You’re safe! They’re here to help us!”

But Tommy wasn’t listening. His hands scrabbled at the debris as though trying to dig himself further into the confined pocket of space, his eyes darting frantically. “No, no, no… I can’t let them—don’t let them take me!”

“Tommy, listen to me!” Buck urged, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him lightly. “You’re not there! You’re here, with me. They’re pulling us out—”

“Buckley!” a voice barked from above. Buck’s head snapped up to see Melton, leaning dangerously over the gap. His face was tight with urgency. “There’s no time! We need to get out now, or none of us are walking out of this!”

Buck swore under his breath, his gaze darting back to Tommy, who was still caught in the throes of panic. There was no time to coax him out, no time to reason with him.

“I’m sorry Tommy,” Buck muttered, his voice low, before grabbing Tommy’s arms. With a grunt of effort, he forced Tommy upward, pushing him toward the waiting hands of the team above.

Tommy struggled weakly at first, mumbling incoherent protests, but the team didn’t hesitate. Melton reached down, gripping Tommy’s gear and hauling him up with the help of another firefighter. “We’ve got him!” Melton yelled as they pulled Tommy out of the gap.

“Shit! their tanks are bone dry!” Lucy yelled, her voice sharp with alarm. “They’re hypoxic—we need medics now!

Buck watched for a split second to make sure they had Tommy, then yelled, “I’m coming!” Hands reached for him next, and in a matter of moments, he was pulled free of the suffocating debris.

The rush of fresh air hit Buck’s lungs, but it didn’t do much to clear the heaviness in his chest. The medics were already waiting, their gear ready. Hen and Chimney were among them, both moving with purpose. Eddie stood nearby, his sharp gaze flicking between Buck and Tommy as the team ushered them toward the ambulances.

“They’re hypoxic!” Lucy shouted, sprinting to meet the medics. “Both of them were trapped for too long.”

Hen was on Tommy instantly, guiding him to sit on the bumper of an ambulance. “Tommy, stay still,” she ordered, securing an oxygen mask over his face.

Chimney grabbed Buck before he could sway too far, steering him toward another ambulance. “Sit. Down.,” Chimney demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. He pressed an oxygen mask toward Buck. “You need this, like, five minutes ago.”

“I’m fine,” Buck muttered, pushing the mask aside. His eyes locked on Tommy, who sat hunched over, his shoulders rigid and his breaths shallow, even through the oxygen.

Chimney waved his hand in front of Buck’s face. “Nope. Not happening. You’re not pulling the ‘I’m fine’ routine when you look like you just wrestled a furnace.”

“I’m fine,” Buck insisted, standing abruptly. “How’s Tommy? Is he okay?”

Hen glanced over, catching Buck’s movement. She stalked toward him, her tone sharp. “Buck! Sit back down and stay on oxygen. Tommy’s fine. I’ve got him.”

“But—” Buck started, his voice tight with worry.

Hen sighed, cutting him off. “He’s stable, Buck. He’s not going to collapse on us, but he’s rattled. Let me handle it.”

Eddie, who had been watching quietly, frowned as he took in Tommy’s stiff posture and far-off gaze. Without a word, he walked past Hen, his boots crunching against the gravel as he approached Tommy.

“Tommy,” Eddie said softly, crouching in front of him. “Hey, you doing okay?”

Tommy’s eyes flickered to Eddie, but his gaze didn’t hold. He shook his head slightly, his voice muffled through the oxygen mask. “I froze,” he muttered, barely audible.

Eddie tilted his head, his voice calm and understanding. “You’re out now. That’s what matters.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s not that simple,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “It’s never simple. When you’re found… it doesn’t always mean you’re free.”

Eddie didn’t need more. He’d seen that look, heard those words, and felt that fear. It lingered, even now, in the quiet corners of his mind. He understood exactly what Tommy wasn’t saying.

“You’re not there anymore,” Eddie said gently. “You’re here. You’re safe.”

Tommy glanced up briefly, his lips pressing into a tight line. For a moment, it looked like he might say something more, but then he turned his head away, retreating into complete silence.

Eddie let out a slow breath, standing and stepping back. As he returned to Buck, he kept his expression carefully neutral, but his eyes carried a weight that Buck couldn’t ignore.

“He’s fine,” Eddie said quietly. “You should talk to him. Just… be patient.”

Hen sighed as Buck started to move again. “Fine,” she said, exasperated. “Go. But if you don’t get back on oxygen afterward, I’m hauling you to the ER myself.” Buck didn’t argue. He crossed the distance to Tommy.

“Tommy,” Buck said softly, crouching in front of him.

Tommy’s head jerked up, and his eyes found Buck’s. They were still glassy, his breaths still uneven. “Evan… I…” His voice broke, and he shook his head. “I’m fine,” he murmured, though the faraway look in his eyes betrayed his words then he chocked “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Buck said quickly. “We’re both okay. That’s all that matters.”

Tommy’s hands twitched where they rested on his knees, his fingers curling into fists. “No, it’s not… I don’t know what happened. I thought I was fine, but then… the collapse… it just happened so suddenly, and I was pulled into another place. I couldn’t—” His voice cracked, and he looked away, ashamed.

“Tommy, look at me,” Buck said, his tone firm. He reached out, resting a hand on Tommy’s knee. “It’s okay. You were scared. That’s normal. You’re human.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched, and he let out a shaky breath. “But I’m supposed to be better than this. I’m supposed to be able to handle it. What if—I could’ve gotten us killed!”

“You didn’t,” Buck said firmly. “You didn’t get us killed, Tommy. We made it out because of you. You kept coming back, even when it felt impossible. That’s what matters.”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them away quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what could have happened if you weren’t there,” he admitted in a broken whisper.

“You don’t have to know,” Buck replied. “Because I was there. And I’ll always be there. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath, some of the tension in his body finally easing. For the first time since the collapse, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Buck gave him a reassuring nod, staying by his side until Hen returned, her hands on her hips. “Alright, Buck. Oxygen. Now. Or I’m dragging you to the hospital.”

Buck raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m riding with him anyway,” he said simply, nodding toward Tommy. Finally, he took the mask, but his eyes stayed on Tommy, making sure he was okay.

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #*

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