#despite the advice of playing the first two games I’ve just dived headfirst into this one and I am loving it

[bitethedevil]

if anything bad happens to my little elf dude and his boyfriend Dorian, I will kill everyone and then throw myself off something tall

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  You'll write for 9-1-1? *heart eyes* If this prompt ever speaks to you, I'd love to see Buck just throwing himself into work after he gets back onto the squad, trying to prove himself, and just burning himself out either into total exhaustion or just a really bad illness and either collapsing or ending up with a really bad fever. Maybe Eddie tries to tell him to take it easy, and then watches as Buck completely ignores the advice?

First fic for 9-1-1!

Set when Buck is back after all the lawyer BS that we don’t talk about and when everyone is okay with him again.

Eddie’s slipping his boots on, working in time with the loud alarm ringing overhead, yet his focus is pulled toward Buck, or rather, the slight tremble of Buck’s hands as the latter works into his own gear.

Buck’s been back for a few weeks now, the initial tension has faded away to their familiar routine, and he’s been diving headfirst into his work, taking each call with an almost desperate passion that’s got Eddie worried, to say the least.

He’s called Buck out after two days of Buck working himself into the ground, and Buck fought against his concern then, telling him he has to make up for lost time, to prove himself to Bobby, to make things right again,

Well, Eddie thinks as he gets to his feet, things have been right, and he’s frankly concerned that Buck’s going to drop. He’s tired of watching Buck act like this. “Hey, Buck? You okay?”

Buck turns to him, and despite his poor pallor, despite the small red flush to his cheeks, he smiles wide, energy pouring from his eyes, threatening to suck Eddie in if he stares too long. “Yeah, man! I’m just ready to get out there!”

Eddie casts a long gaze back to Buck’s hands, frowning deeply at the trembling. “Yeah,” he draws out, almost distracted, “just... take it easy, okay? You don’t look so hot.” He pulls his gaze back to Buck’s, eyes rolling on instinct at the devious grin that creeps at Buck’s lips.

“I thought you said I always look hot.”

Eddie turns toward the door with a deep sigh, Buck hot on his his heels. “That was one time, and I only said it because you were literally drowning in your own pity at the hospital.” Buck claps a hand to his shoulder, falling into pace with him, and he cocks a brow.

“Yeah,” he starts, leaning forward, “but you still said it.”

Eddie slaps Buck’s hand away, ignoring the loud laughter that follows, and he hoists himself up into the firetruck, slipping his headset on and listening as Bobby barks out the situation.

It’s a house fire, a two story house fire to be specific, and Eddie and Buck are ordered to enter and rescue when they arrive after the wife of the house informs through gasping sobs and coughs that her son is trapped on the second floor with her husband. For a brief moment, Eddie considers asking Bobby if he can go about the rescue alone, but Buck’s already slamming a ladder against the side of the house and racing up it with impressive speed. Bobby looks at him, eyes narrow, stern, yet patient, but Eddie only breaks the gaze and starts up the ladder after Buck.

“Move away from the window!”

Eddie looks up, only a few rungs behind Buck, to see Buck waving to the father and son, and once their clear, he lifts his arm, preparing to swing his elbow against the window.

“Buck, wait!”

“Now’s not really a good time, Eddie!”

Eddie closes the distance, and it takes some careful maneuvering until he’s got one foot planted on the same run Buck’s standing on, and he’s pulling himself up until he’s level with Buck. “The blood thinners, Buck. What if you cut yourself?” He keeps his gaze sharp, unyielding, and Buck gives in with a wave of the hand.

“Fine, Superman, have at it.”

Eddie slams his elbow into the window until the glass cracks and breaks against the force, and he’s quick but careful to make sure there’s no jagged shards sticking out. Buck’s got one hand on a rung above them and the other wrapped around Eddie’s waist to keep him steady, and the second the last of the glass hits the floor and they’re hit with waves of smoke, they fall into quick action.

Eddie enters the room first with Buck close behind. The two do a quick survey of their surroundings, gauging how long they have, before they move to the victims.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“I have some burns on my arm, but otherwise, we’re okay.”

Eddie’s eyes find the burns on the man’s arm, frowning at the black and red strips of burned skin, but then Buck’s moving past him to the kid.

“Eddie, we’re running out of time. We gotta move.”

He nods, watching as Buck crouches down in front of the kid, and he doesn’t miss the way Buck staggers faintly, briefly, for just a breath of a moment, one hand reaching out to the floor to steady himself.

“What’s your name?”

“Buck,” Eddie interrupts and starts toward him, “let me carry him--”

“--I’ve got this, Eddie! Help the father!”

Eddie watches as the kid, Benjamin, puts all of his trust into Buck and climbs onto Buck’s back, and he keeps his focus heavy on the two as Buck quickly gets to his feet, the unsteadiness from before replaced with quick determination.

“Eddie, let’s go!”

Buck’s voice snaps him out of his brief trance, and he nods and turns back toward the father. “Can you climb down a ladder with that arm?”

The father nods, and Eddie decides to go with is gut and not question the shaky hesitation in the father’s movements. He urges the father onto the ladder with a promise that everything will be fine, and then he starts down the ladder himself. He’s six rungs down when a loud explosion erupts from the open window. Buck was right, he thinks. They were definitely cutting it close with this one.

With the family safe, Bobby urges Eddie and Buck to get checked out right quick for potential smoke inhalation, but Buck declines, slapping a hand to Bobby’s shoulder.

“I’m good, Cap.” He shoots a smile to Eddie and Bobby, his face sporting a few smoke smudges, and Eddie’s gut twists uncomfortably, but he still nods, going along with Buck’s mood.

“Same, Cap. We weren’t in there long.” He wants to press Bobby, to have Bobby force Buck to get checked out because Eddie just knows something’s wrong with him, but Buck’s acting normal, as if his hands weren’t shaking before, as if he didn’t slightly stagger a few minutes ago, so he drops it, and Bobby doesn’t press either further.

“Fine, but I’m only saying fine because I’m exhausted, and because I know you both know to get checked out if you need it.” Bobby’s eyes linger on Buck, and Buck nods, almost eagerly, and offers a mock salute.

“Of course, Cap!” Buck starts back to the truck, and Eddie and Bobby follow, watching as Buck talks animatedly with Chimney and Hen.

“He seems to be doing a lot better,” Bobby’s comment sounds sincere to Eddie, fond even, and Eddie offers a quiet hum.

“I don’t know, Bobby. Don’t you think he’s pushing himself a little too hard?”

Bobby claps a hand to Eddie’s shoulder, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “It’s Buck. He doesn’t know how to pace himself.”

Bobby’s words don’t exactly ease Eddie’s concern, and the worry that’s forming a pit in his stomach remains on the ride back to the station, only growing despite Buck’s seemingly normal demeanor.

“Hey,” he starts as he and Buck are changing for the day. “Why don’t you come over? Christopher is dying to see you.” It’s not a lie exactly, but it’s not the entire truth either. Eddie wants to keep an eye on Buck, if only just for a little bit, just to see if Buck is really okay or not.

Eddie picks up on Buck’s hesitation by the slight tension in Buck’s shoulders, but then Buck grabs his bag off the floor and shoots a wide smile.

“Sure, man! I’d love to see Christopher!”

They go back in Eddie’s truck, leaving Buck’s jeep at the station, and Eddie’s hyper-focused on how Buck can’t seem to sit still, crossing and uncrossing his arms every few seconds, how Buck’s clearing his throat a lot, how Buck will occasionally reach up to rub at his temples.

When they get to Eddie’s abulea’s house to pick up Christopher, Eddie puts the truck in park, but he makes no motion to get out. He turns to Buck, who’s frowning questioningly at him.

“What’s up, man?”

“Are you okay?” It’s the second time today he’s asked this, and to his surprise, Buck’s smile is softer, tired, but still there.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Just pretty tired.”

Eddie’s about to reassure that he’ll make sure Christopher doesn’t keep him up too late, but his thoughts clip off when he hears Christopher yelling for him. He pulls his gaze from Buck to see his abuela helping Christopher down the steps, and he hops out of the truck and rushes too him, chasing the fond relief that swells in his chest every night when he gets to pick up his kid.

“Chris! Hey, bud!” He scoops him up into a hug while offering his thanks to his abuela.

“Is that Buck?” Christopher is looking over Eddie’s shoulder to the truck. “Is he going to hang out with me?”

“He sure is!” Eddie takes him to the truck and gets him settled into the back seat with Chris gushing to Buck about all of the cool and fun things they are going to do tonight the entire time.

The ride back to his house is similar, with Buck and Christopher chatting the whole way. Eddie’s impressed with Buck’s ability to mask his fatigue in front of Christopher, and he stays impressed when they get to his house and get inside and when Christopher pulls Buck to the living room TV to play some games.

“Not too long, Chris,” Eddie starts, leaning against the wall as Buck sets up a game. “Buck’s pretty tired, and you have school tomorrow.”

Christopher smiles at him. “Just a few games,” he promises, and Eddie finds Buck’s gaze, the two sharing a silent conversation, before he nods and leaves to clean up the kitchen.

He’s moved onto Christopher’s room, gathering dirty laundry, when he hears a loud thud. He freezes, heart fluttering to stop, but then he hears Christopher’s voice, a crying shout of desperation.

“Buck!”

His heartbeat comes back hard and fast, hammering against his rib cage almost painfully, and he drops the piles of clothes in his arms and races out of Christopher’s room, whipping down the small hallway until he’s skidding into the living room.

Buck’s unconscious on the floor, a pile of games fallen to the floor close to his hand, and Christopher’s crying and stumbling toward him.

“I just asked if we could change the game,” Christopher cries. “And he just fell!”

Eddie allows himself exactly four seconds of pure panic before he drops to the floor beside Buck, swapping into medical mode within the blink of an eye. His hand flies to Buck’s neck to check for a pulse, and it’s there, thankfully, but it’s racing, quick, fluttering heartbeats against his fingertips, but more concerning is the almost burning heat that coats his fingers. Frowning, he moves his hand to Buck’s forehead, and the heat that coats his palm is alarming. His cool touch brings Buck back, and Eddie swallows back the lump in his throat.

“Hey, Buck, can you hear me?”

Buck groans, his flushed, sweaty face pinched in discomfort, but his eyes don’t open, and Eddie’s muscles tense under a weight of desperation.

“Evan,” he pushes, lightly slapping Buck’s cheek, and Buck’s eyes finally flutter open, crystal blue eyes glassy and colored in confusion.

“...Eddie?” Buck’s voice sounds rough, pained, and the small usage is enough to have him coughing harshly.

Eddie helps him into a sitting position, assessing the back of Buck’s head the entire way up. There doesn’t appear to be any further injuries, so that’s one less thing to worry about for now.

“Buck! Buck! Buck!”

Christopher’s sobbing beside them, and before Eddie can even begin to reassure him, Buck’s calling out in between ragged coughs.

“It’s okay... Chris... I’m... totally...” he pauses, his coughing dying down, “fine!” He forces a smile that’s so wide, it’s believable, and Christopher’s sobbing fades to light sniffling.

“You promise?”

Christopher’s small words grip at Eddie’s heart, so he can only imagine how Buck’s taking it, but Buck smiles impossibly wider, so genuine that almost Eddie believes it, and he makes to get to his feet. Eddie wants to protest, but he understands, so he helps Buck up, keeping a steady arm around his waist, and Buck throws both arms out.

“I promise!”

Christopher seems hesitant to accept it, but he does, and Eddie makes quick work of guiding Buck to the couch and getting Christopher ready for bed. He’s tucking Christopher in when the latter blinks up at him, eyes still wet.

“Is Buck really okay?”

Eddie doesn’t know. The fever feels bad, potentially hospital level bad, and he doesn’t want to lie to his son, but he also doesn’t want Christopher to fall into a second meltdown.

“He will be,” he opts for. “He’s just a little sick, and you can help him get better by getting a full night’s sleep so he doesn’t stay up worrying about you. Okay?”

Christopher’s a helper by nature, so he quickly obliges, squeezing his eyes shut. Eddie drops a light kiss to his forehead before he quietly leaves the room. He doesn’t mean to storm into the living room, but he’s chasing a hot flash of anger that’s beating with his heart, so he does, stopping before the couch where Buck is wrapped up in a throw blanket, shaking and coughing lightly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eddie spits out, keeping his voice hushed but harsh. “You’ve been pushing yourself into the ground for weeks! I don’t get it! You don’t have to prove anything to anyone! We all know that you’re a good firefighter, Buck, but right now, you’re acting like a damn idiot who...”

His words fall short. Buck’s eyes are watering, and it hits Eddie’s heart like a repeated knife stab. He gently sits down on the edge of the coffee table, anger fading away to pulsing concern. “Talk to me, Evan.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck starts, voice cracking. “I just... feel like I have so much catching up to do.” He swallows back a small gasping sob as tears begin to spill down his burning cheeks. “I started feeling like shit about a week ago, but I couldn’t stop. I lost five months, Eddie, and I just... I needed to keep pushing through.” He’s crying fully now, shaking just as hard, looking down to the floor, and Eddie shakes his head and breathes out a trembling sigh.

“Hey,” he leans forward, wrapping careful fingers around Buck’s chin to guide his gaze back up to him. The heat somehow feels worse than before, but he needs to address one thing at a time. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but, listen, you don’t need to push through anything. We aren’t going to think any less of you if you have to take a break because you’re sick. You have to focus on you first.”

Buck nods, and Eddie makes a mental note to address this when Buck isn’t burning with fever, to make sure that Buck fully understand, and his face pulls into soft sympathy at Buck’s sniffling and shivering, at Buck trying to pull the small blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed--”

“--you don’t have to. Can you just drive me back to my jeep?”

Eddie’s gaze goes sharp, narrow. “No,” he says flatly, leaving no room for argument, and Buck doesn’t press further, a testament to how bad he must be truly feeling.

Eddie helps Buck to his room, helps him change into some of Eddie’s clothes, and gets him to take some Ibuprofen and water before lying down. Buck’s quietly compliant the entire time, and Eddie hates it. He wants to hear Buck’s snarky comments, Buck’s voice, just anything other than the quiet coughs.

He grabs the thermometer from the bathroom, and Buck doesn’t even try to fight him when he holds it up to him. The reading is bad, 103.8 degrees Fahrenheit, and Eddie has every instinct to wake Christopher up and drive their asses to the closest hospital, but Buck, despite his pounding head, can read Eddie’s features like an open book.

“No hospitals,” Buck says quietly.

“Buck,” Eddie starts, looking down at the reading again. “I don’t like this fever.”

“Me either,” Buck says, voicing his own concern for the first time, “but I’ve spent too much time in the hospital over the last few months, and I really don’t want to go back.”

“You have one day to get this fever down,” Eddie decides, hesitance coloring his tone, “one day, Buck, you hear me? If you’re this bad by tomorrow night, we’re going.”

“Got it,” Buck mutters before weakly grabbing at the blanket, tugging it up to his chin. “Shit,” he curses, shivering. “I’m freezing.”

Eddie bites back sarcasm because Buck looks generally miserable. Instead, he slips his shoes off and climbs into bed beside Buck.

“Eddie, what are you--”

“Roll onto your side,” Eddie orders quietly, and Buck complies, but he’s frowning the entire time.

Eddie presses his chest to Buck’s back and wraps a steady arm around him, pulling him close.

“Are you... are you spooning me?”

It’s the first time in an hour that Eddie’s heard Buck’s voice so clear, so animated, and he rolls his eyes. “Yes, but only for a little while because I don’t want you to overheat. Now shut up, and go to sleep.”