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marjansmarwani · 4 years

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The Boss’s Son (Part 4)

A 911: Lone Star Role Reversal AU

[Read on Ao3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Firefighter Carlos Reyes and Officer TK Strand’s secret relationship is out in the open now, thrust into the spotlight when TK was shot.

They’ve taken their time to regroup and heal, growing closer all the while. Now the recovery period is over things are going back to normal and they’re learning that there is no such thing as business as usual anymore. This experience has changed both of them, and now they have to find a way to live in this new reality. Thankfully they have each other, and that is the one thing they know for sure.

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Tarlos Week Day 7: Writer's Choice

Finally finished Day 7 of @tarlosweek2020 just in time! If you haven’t read the rest of this AU requested by @buttercupstrand that I started back in May and thought I was done with (I was wrong). Essentially, Carlos is a firefighter at the 126, TK is a cop with APD, they meet and hook up not knowing Carlos works for TK’s dad and then things happen from there. The first three chapters follow season 1 fairly closely, but this new one concerns events after the end of the season.

Should I maybe not have written a 10k extra chapter to an AU for an event? Probably, but I did so here you go. It has been a pleasure writing for this week and seeing and reading what everyone else has put out. I am once again in awe of this fandom. I sincerely hope you have all enjoyed my works this week and that you enjoy this one!)

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TK tucked his shirt in neatly, before moving his hands to do up the last two buttons of his uniform shirt. If still fit just as well as it always had, but it felt foreign now; unfamiliar. It felt like a remnant of a different lifetime and in a way, it was.

It had been over a month since that night and that call; a month since TK had kicked open a door and been shot by an 8-year-old. He could still feel the ghost of the bandage on his collarbone, could still feel the phantom pull of the stitches. He noticed that his hands trembled over the last button and he let it go, forcing them back to his sides, willing them to stay steady.

He was fine, really. It was just desk duty. He wouldn’t be allowed back into the field until he had been fully cleared by a doctor and department psychologist. He could handle this.

The most ironic part, he thought to himself as he examined himself in the mirror, studying his uniform for imperfections, was that before this he never would have thought for a moment that he might have even a moment’s hesitation about jumping back into the field. He became a cop to help people, and he didn’t see how he could do that from a desk. (There was also the mountains of paperwork to consider, but that was another matter altogether.) He had never been a very sedentary person - his father had often joked that he hadn’t seen him hold still since the moment he was born and one time he had the flu when he was 8. He had never thought that given the chance there would be any hesitation, any doubt in his mind that jumping back into the action was the right thing - the only thing.

Now in the after, he was filled with hesitation. It wasn’t fear per se; and it had nothing to do with the actual pain and injury. It had everything to do with the people he loved and the hurt he had seen in them when he almost didn’t pull through. TK had always known the risks of his job, had always known there was a chance that something could happen to him. But until he had seen it, until he had known the effect that it had on the people he cared about most, he had never truly appreciated it. He didn’t want to put any of them through that ever again.

A voice from the doorway interrupted his reverie, “still fits, huh?”

He turned to find Carlos, also ready for work in his AFD uniform, sipping a cup of coffee as he leaned on the doorframe.

“Like a glove,” he responded glibly. Carlos set his mug down on the shelf by the door and crossed the room so he was standing in front of TK. He studied him closely before reaching out a gentle hand to straighten his badge. TK watched as he trailed his fingers up from the badge to his collar, pausing almost imperceptibly in the spot where just weeks before a bullet had ripped through his flesh and almost ended it all. Neither of them said a word as Carlos pulled himself back to the present and continued his journey up to TK’s collar, straightening it with a gentle tug.

“It’s just desk duty, Carlos,” TK said into the silence, “it’ll be fine.”

Carlos blinked and seemed to come back to himself, “Of course it will be.” But the smile he gave TK didn’t reach his eyes. TK reached down to find Carlos’s hand, still resting on his collar, and covered it with his own. “It’ll be fine,” he repeated using his other hand to softly lift Carlos’s chin so he could look him in the eyes, “I promise.”

Carlos nodded again and this time his smile seemed more genuine. “Now that I believe in.”

TK returned the smile and leaned forward, capturing Carlos in a kiss. Carlos leaned into it and TK reached down to snake his arms around the other man’s waist, pulling him closer. He deepened the kiss, but Carlos pulled away, causing TK to let out a disgruntled sound.

Carlos chuckled, “Sorry babe,” he said as he pressed a light kiss to TK’s forehead, “as much as I would love to keep going with this, we both have to work this morning. Personally, I don’t think your dad would find this an acceptable reason to be late and am sure Mya will be waiting not very patiently for you at the precinct.

“Spoilsport,” TK complained with a pout. Carlos chuckled again as he leaned forward to speak into TK’s ear. “Besides,” he began, voice low, “it would be a shame to wrinkle that uniform before you go to work. We can save that for later.”

Then he pulled away, walking back towards the door to pick up his abandoned mug and exited the room.

TK stood rooted to the spot, still standing in front of the mirror, dumbfounded. It was several moments before he was able to get words out.

“You’re a menace, Carlos Reyes.”

----------

“How’s Lover Boy’s first day back in the saddle?”

Carlos looked up from his phone to find Judd staring at him with raised eyebrows. “Must you call him that?” he asked drily.

“Since you knew exactly who I was talking about, yes, I think I do.”

Carlos rolled his eyes before returning his gaze to his phone. He could feel Judd’s gaze still on him. He ignored it for several long moments but when he realized the older man had no intention of stopping he sighed and looked up again, “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “He hasn’t sent me more than a mention that Mya says hi all morning and I don’t want to bombard him so I’m just...waiting.”

“You’re not very good at waiting,” Judd noted.

Carlos shook his head ruefully, “Don’t I know it. I mean,” he continued, “it’ll be fine. I have nothing to worry about. It’s desk duty. He’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“You know if I were to hazard a guess, I might say that you don’t believe a word you’re saying.”

“I don’t know,” Carlos replied wearily, “I just...I don’t know.”

Judd nodded sagely, “Glad we cleared that up,” he noted as he took a sip of coffee.

Carlos was debating whether he needed to dignify that with a response or if a rude hand gesture would suffice when Paul entered the kitchen. “How’s TK’s first day back going?” he asked Carlos as he reached for a mug.

“He doesn’t know,” Judd answered helpfully.

Paul paused and looked frowned over his shoulder at Carlos, “How do you not know?”

“TK hasn’t said much and he doesn’t want to keep texting him so he’s just waiting.”

Paul nodded solemnly, “He’s not good at waiting.”

“Do I even need to be here for this conversation to happen, or are you two good on your own?” Carlos snapped.

Both Paul and Judd gave him pointed looks, “Someone’s feisty today,” Judd noted as he took another sip of his coffee.

Carlos groaned, but forced himself to take a deep breath and put his head in his hands. After a few moments, he looked up again. “I’m sorry guys,” he said somewhat sheepishly, “I really didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…”

“Concerned?” offered Judd.

“Worried?” Paul suggested.

Carlos nodded in agreement, “and I don’t really want to say anything to him about it because he looked a little freaked out himself when he was getting ready this morning. He doesn’t need my worries on his mind too.”

“I hate to break it to you man, but he probably already knows,” Paul informed him.

Judd nodded his agreement, “You don’t exactly have the best poker face brother, especially not when it comes to your man.”

Carlos ran a weary hand through his hair. “You’re probably right, but I wish he didn’t know. I wish I were better at hiding it. He has so much on his plate, he doesn’t need my irrational fear too.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it irrational,” Paul responded reasonably, “especially considering recent events.”

Carlos turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “So it’s normal to be worried about my boyfriend the cop getting murdered at his own desk in the middle of a police precinct in broad daylight?”

“No, I think that might cross into irrational territory,” Paul allowed.

“Good to know I’ve got that going for me,” Carlos responded drily.

He could see Judd and Paul exchanging looks, but they were saved the trouble of having to respond to his neurosis by the alarm. They set down their coffee cups in tandem and jogged over to the engine bay.

“It’s going to be okay man,” Paul assured him softly as they climbed onto the rig. Carlos gave him a tight smile in response but while he appreciated his friend’s effort, he just couldn’t move past this. Not yet.

-----------------

TK entered the bullpen to applause. He was so taken aback that he froze, trapped in the entrance like a deer in the headlights. When the familiar faces of his colleagues registered he felt himself relax and smile. He held up a placating hand as he crossed to his desk, smiling at his coworkers and receiving more than one affectionate pat on the shoulder.

He paused again when he reached his desk, or where he had at least thought his desk was. What stood in front of him now seemed more like the inside of a recycling bin on Christmas morning than any desk he had ever seen. Wrapping paper and bows covered almost every inch, save for about 8 inches on the front where a sign declaring “Welcome back Strand!” was visible. He raised a bemused eyebrow at his desk before turning his gaze the desk beside his own where Mya sat, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Your doing, I assume?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he said mildly, setting his coffee cup down on a corner that was relatively level, “it has a certain kind of flair that reminds me of you.”

She chuckled, “I would be flattered, but the Lieutenant's kids were here last night and they helped. They may have gotten a little carried away,” she added with a ‘what are you going to do?’ kind of shrug.

TK laughed appreciatively, “remind me to thank her later.”

He located his chair between some particularly ambitious bows and pulled it out before taking a seat. Mya joined him, perching herself on the corner of his desk. She studied him intently. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

TK rolled his eyes, “You literally saw me two days ago Mya - I’m fine. I was fine then and I am fine now. It’s fine.”

She peered at him suspiciously. “What?” he asked defensively.

“Just wondering if maybe you were a little too quick to say how fine you are.”

“Why would I lie Mya? I’m…”

“Fine?” she suggested.

“Yes,” he agreed firmly, “completely, totally, 100% fine.”

She was still looking at him with a doubtful expression, so he changed the topic in self-defense: “Don’t you have a partner you’re supposed to be patrolling with?”

“Temporary partner,” Mya reminded him, “only until you’re back in the field. And that better be soon - I don’t know how much more I can take of Thad.”

“His name isn’t really Thad, is it?”

Mya nodded solemnly, “While you’ve been out recovering I have been stuck with the latest rookie - Thaddeus Sterling, the third.”

“You’re making that up,” TK accused.

“I am not. I wish I was.”

“There are two more Thaddeus Sterling’s in the world?”

“It’s a ‘family name,’ apparently.”

“Ouch.”

Mya rolled her eyes, “I’d feel worse for him if he wasn’t such a dense pretty boy.”

TK raised a skeptical eyebrow, “that bad?”

“The man has been flirting with me for three straight weeks, TK. He does not understand the concept of a lesbian and the fact that I have zero interest in dating anyone of the male persuasion, let alone him. Not to mention that his entire personality revolves entirely around the fraternity he was in at UT. If I have to hear anymore about the Longhorn’s defensive game this year, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”

TK winced sympathetically, “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Just get better so you can be my partner again,” Mya said with an exasperated sigh, “I can handle him, I just don’t know for how much longer.”

Any response TK could have made was cut off when a young guy with artfully spiked hair appeared at the side of his desk. “Ready to ride Esquilin?” he asked Mya, before sparing a glance at TK. Somewhere between the wrapping paper explosion that was his desk and his proximity to Mya, something seemed to click for him. “Oh hey,” he exclaimed, turning to face TK, “You must be Strand, right? The one who got shot!”

“Yep, that’s me,” TK confirmed.

“That’s intense,” the kid - Thaddeus Sterling III, TK assumed - observed. “But hey, you gotta have a cool scar now, right? I bet the chicks dig it!”

“I wouldn’t know,” TK responded drily, ignoring Mya’s dramatic eye-roll from behind Thad’s shoulder. Thad, for his part, simply looked puzzled. TK wondered if he should elaborate, but was saved the trouble by Mya slipping off his desk with a sigh, “Let’s get moving Sterling, we have work to do. And I am not ready to ride, I am ready to drive. Don’t think you’re going to pull a fast one on me.”

As Thad walked away Mya paused to glare down at TK, “You better get well soon.”

“You know, most people don’t make well wishes sound like a threat.”

Mya gave a significant look at Thad’s back before turning her expression back to TK with raised brows. He held up his hands in surrender, “Fine, I get it. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“Remember, murdering your partner is bad!” TK called to her retreating back. Her only response was a rude hand gesture thrown over her shoulder.

TK chuckled and shook his head fondly. It was nice to be back. He didn’t know what he was so worried about. It would be fine, really.

He was so lost in thought that the slamming of a desk drawer at a nearby desk startled him back to reality. It caused him to jump and sent his heart racing. He peered around the bullpen only to see that no one else had reacted: to the slamming drawer or his reaction. He closed his eyes and took several deep, measured breaths.

He was fine, really.

---------------------

The ladder truck arrived at the scene of a multi-vehicle accident and the crew piled out, each taking in the scene with a practiced eye. There were some scenes that you pulled up to and knew instinctively that they were going to be bad. Full of pain and suffering and images that would haunt you for days or weeks to come.

This wasn’t one of them.

Sure there was an alarming amount of vehicles involved but the atmosphere radiated annoyance and anger, not fear and despair. A quick survey didn’t reveal anything beyond a minor injury - Carlos hoped that maybe that could hold true.

They split up and waded into the crowd and cars, checking in with each person, searching for anyone trapped or seriously injured. Thankfully the initial assessment proved correct and there were none. The scene still needed to be cleared and injuries needed to be looked at, but there was no immediate threat staring them down. They all got to work and Carlos found himself helping Michelle and her team with basic first aid until a familiar voice called his name.

He turned to see Mya, a younger guy with very deliberately styled hair at her shoulder. He grinned at her as the woman he had just finished with jumped off the gurney serving as his exam table. “Hey Mya, how’s it going?”

She raised an eyebrow as she drew closer, “My day is fine, but that’s not what you're asking, is it?”

He gave her a sheepish grin and she rolled her eyes but answered his unasked question: “He seems fine. He says he’s fine.”

“What do you think?”

She shrugged, “Too soon to tell, but I don’t see any reason not to believe him. If he says he’s fine, then he probably is.”

The younger guy pulled level with them and looked between them suggestively, “Someone you need to introduce me to, Partner?”

Carlos’s eyebrows rose as Mya heaved an exasperated sigh, “Carlos, this is Thad - my temporary partner. Thad, this is Carlos - TK’s boyfriend.”

Thad looked puzzled and Mya rolled her eyes at him, “You know, TK. My regular partner: has been out on medical leave, you met him this morning?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said “I just thought that you two…” he trailed off suggestively and Mya took a deep, measured breath.

“No, we are not. I don’t like men, remember? We’ve been over this like, 5 times.”

“Huh,” was all he said and seemed to be seriously considering this information. Mya gave Carlos an exasperated look and gave Thad a nudge. “Go find something to help with,” she instructed with a gesture towards the accident scene, “I’ll be along in a moment.”

He obliged with a parting wave to Carlos and they watched him leave before Carlos spoke, “he seems like fun.”

“Oh yeah, a barrel of laughs,” Mya deadpanned.

“His name isn’t really Thad, is it?”

“Thaddeus Sterling III.”

“You’re making that up.”

Mya rolled her eyes, “I swear you two are the same person, it’s ridiculous.”

Carlos frowned at her, “Me and Thaddeus?”

She swatted at him, “No! You and TK. I had the exact same conversation with him this morning. You two are so alike sometimes it’s scary.”

Carlos laughed appreciatively before the mention of TK’s return to work reminded him of his concerns. “You really think he’s okay?” he asked Mya again.

She shrugged, “He seems to be. Only time will really tell, but right now he seems fine. Almost like nothing happened.”

Mya’s name was called and they both looked over towards the accident scene to see Thad waving his hands in the air and looking far too pleased with himself. Mya sighed again, “I better go see what he wants. Hopefully, he didn’t break anything this time. The faster TK is back in the field the better; I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” she flicked her gaze back to Carlos, “Catch up with you later?”

He nodded and gave her a smile that she returned before striding off to find Thad. The moment she was gone Carlos let the smile slip. He knew Mya would never put TK at risk and would never push him to do anything before he was ready, but their conversation had filled him with dread.

He shook it off and pulled himself up straighter. He had a job to do now - he could go back to worrying about his boyfriend later.

------------------

“Please, take a seat, Officer Strand.”

TK sank into the chair indicated and watched as the department psychologist - a woman in her mid-40s - settled into one across from him, crossing her legs neatly at the knees and balancing a clipboard in her lap.

“Have you ever participated in any kind of therapy before, Officer Strand?”

TK nodded, “I have been seeing a therapist off and one since I was about 16.”

The psychologist - Dr. Said - nodded and gave a small smile, “Good, then you should be fairly familiar with how this works. That should make this easier - people who have never done any form of therapy often take a while to feel comfortable enough to effectively share.”

TK nodded and drummed his fingers, waiting for the doctor to lay the groundwork. As the silence dragged on he could feel his anxiety growing. “So how does this work?” he finally blurted out, caving to the crushing silence.

Today we are just going to have a chat. This is considered the beginning of your probationary period, for lack of a better word - of being cleared for full and active duty. We will meet once more toward the middle of this mandated time, and then once again at the end. Then my reports and recommendations, along with your doctor, and your Captain will all be reviewed and a determination for your fitness to serve - both physically and mentally - will be made.”

TK nodded, running all the steps and names through his head once again. “How long does this usually take?” he asked. Dr. Said shrugged, “somewhere between 2-4 weeks. Since your injury was severe I would say that your case will be pushed out closer to the 4 weeks mark so everyone can feel certain about their findings.”

TK nodded. He glanced around the office, avoiding the doctor’s piercing gaze as he asked the question he truly dreaded: “and if I am not deemed fit to serve?”

Dr. Said readjusted her clipboard and uncapped her pen, “Then alternate options will be discussed at that time. But let’s get started before you start jumping to worse case scenarios. It won’t do any good to dwell on them.”

TK nodded and Dr. Said continued, peering at him over her clipboard, pen poised and ready: “Now,” she asked, “what can you tell me about the night of the incident?”

TK swallowed. This was not going to be fun, at all.

--------------------

Carlos entered his house to find the light already on and upbeat music drifting from the kitchen. He smiled as he dropped his bag by the door, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the noise and his boyfriend. He turned the corner to find TK bobbing his head to the music as he pulled plates out of the cupboard, turning and setting them down beside a platter of food on the counter. Carlos crossed the room and found TK’s phone on the counter. He reached across and using the side buttons, lowered the volume.

TK spun around as the music faded, but his surprised look faded into one of pleasure when he noticed Carlos.

“Hey babe,” he said, crossing the room to give Carlos a kiss, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Carlos raised a single eyebrow, “I’m not surprised. I don’t know how you can hear anything with the music that loud. I am surprised the neighbors didn’t call to complain.”

TK waved off his concerns, “They’re fine. Besides, the windows are shut so there is no way they should have heard that. My phone speaker is not that powerful.”

Carlos rolled his eyes and then narrowed them when he noticed the food. “You didn’t cook, did you?” he asked, glancing around the kitchen, “I don’t see any scorch marks.”

TK put a hand over his heart, “Ye of little faith!” he exclaimed dramatically, “do you really think I cannot manage even a basic dinner without property damage?”

“Yes,” Carlos deadpanned, “because I have extensive experience to prove that point. Do I need to remind you of the breakfast in bed incident?”

“That was not my fault,” TK said quickly, “but no, I did not cook. I ordered this from that Korean place you like.”

Carlos chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on the side of TK’s neck, “my hero.”

TK laughed lightly but reached forward to grab the food. “Can you grab the plates? We should get to this before it gets cold.” Carlos obliged and once they were settled at the table with full plates, he asked the question that had been eating at him all day.

“How was your first day back?” he hoped his voice didn’t betray any of the anxiety he had felt all day.

TK shrugged and she scooped some rice onto his fork, “Pretty uneventful. Mya wrapped my desk in wrapping paper, and then I had to spend all day at it doing paperwork.” At Carlos’s raised eyebrow he added, “I took off the wrapping paper halfway through the day, the crinkling was driving me nuts.”

Carlos grinned, “I ran into Mya today actually. Met her new partner.”

“Temporary partner,” TK corrected quickly, like a reflex.

“Right,” Carlos amended, “temporary partner. Did you get to talk to him at all? He seems…”

“Interesting?” TK provided.

“That’s one way to put it.”

TK nodded, “She can’t stand him. She keeps telling me I need to get back out into the field before she snaps and murders him.”

There is silence in the wake of the quip, as they both realize the elephant in the room has just been brought into the light. Back in the field is a statement that haunts both of them, for different reasons.

“I had my psych eval today,” TK blurted out, cutting through the silence.

Carlos looked up from his food, “You didn't say anything about it before,” he noted. He kept his face neutral while all the while his mind raced with implications.

TK shrugged, “I didn’t really know what to tell. I wasn’t sure if it was a one and done kind of thing of if it was a process. Turns out, it’s a process.”

TK’s voice was neutral, but Carlos knew him well enough to know that it was forced. He wasn’t feeling as calm about this as he was letting on, but Carlos wasn’t sure why.

“What kind of process?”

TK sighed, leaning back in his chair as he explained, “It’s going to take 3-4 weeks, at least two more meetings with the department psychologist, a recommendation from my Captain, and then they all have to agree on it. But it’s pointless, there’s nothing to agree on - I’m fine.”

Carlos considered that before he spoke. He noted that TK’s posture was anything but relaxed. His arms were crossed so tightly against his chest Carlos wondered about the possibility of bruising. He was tapping his foot against the floor in a light staccato pattern. Carlos liked to think he had come to know TK Strand fairly well over the past few months, and this was not TK Strand relaxed.

“Isn’t that a good thing though?” he asked eventually, “Isn’t it for the best to make sure, isn’t it smart to be absolutely sure that all the officers in the department are at the top of their game? Letting someone in the field who’s not ready to be there, that could lead to problems. It could be dangerous, for both the cop and anyone else involved. Isn't it better not to risk that?”

TK shrugged, but Carlos could see some of the tension leaving his body, “You’re right,” he agreed, “but it’s still frustrating. I’m fine.”

Carlos nodded. He turned his attention back to his dinner, but not before adding one last thought: “It’s okay to not be fine yet Ty.”

TK met his gaze for a moment before looking away quickly. “I know,” he replied softly, “but I am.”

Carlos gave him a smile but as they turned back to their meal in silence he couldn’t shake the feeling that TK was lying.

[Read the rest on Ao3 - it was too long to post it all here!]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlosweek2020 #tk strand #carlos reyes #my writing #gonna try to tag some people #userjilly #userkimmy #sunsetcxrve #sunshinestrand #officerrxyes #lonestarbabe #buttercupstrand #sneetchestoo #lire-casander #bellakitse #reyesstrand

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

if you thought the head trauma was bad...

Prompt: concussion

Whumpee: Eddie Diaz

Fandom: 911

hello this is sadly not so good and i am sorry :( maybe you will like it?

He doesn’t even see the blow coming. One second, he’s punching the other man in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, a rush of adrenaline overtaking him as he thinks, I’m going to win; and the next, a fist collides with his head so hard that he actually sees stars, and tastes blood, and collapses to the ground.

He lies on the concrete, dazed, ears ringing. His head feels all kinds of strange, hurting on the back as well as the front where he’d been punched, thanks to his collapse. He hears shouting from around him and a cry of victory from his opponent, and then someone is hauling him to his feet and telling him to get outta here, you’re done for the night.

Eddie is well aware that he’s done, but can’t bring himself to pull away from the support of whoever is currently holding him up. They do it for him, though, giving him a gentle push away.

He stumbles and falls to his knees, his head spinning. He gives himself a second to get reoriented as best as he can, then very slowly pushes himself up and stands, then walks shakily to his truck.

He sinks down into the driver’s seat and gives his head a shake, intending to clear up the ringing in his ears. All that this accomplishes, though, is making his head throb and his vision swim, so he stops, and rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment, trying to think and not having much luck.

Buck, he finally decides. He should go see Buck.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s in the parking lot at Buck’s place, and he can’t really remember how he got there. His truck is fine, though, and no police sirens break through the constant noise in his ears, so he figures he’d driven responsibly enough on the way here.

Why is he here, again? Did Buck ask him to come? He can’t remember. But he’s here, and Buck will be, too, so he goes inside.

Buck jumps a little as someone knocks on his door. He pauses the movie he’s watching and gets up, checking the time. Who the hell is at my door at midnight? he wonders, hoping it’s nothing bad but figuring it’s nothing good.

He’s right. As soon as he opens the door, Eddie is falling inside, a nasty bruise forming on the left side of his face and blood drying on the back of his head. Buck catches him immediately, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him inside.

“Jesus, Eddie, what happened?” he asks, leading him to the couch and lowering him down.

Eddie looks up at him in confusion, and Buck notes with worry that his pupils are slightly different sizes. Concussion, he thinks.

“Your head, Eddie,” he reminds the other man. “What happened?”

Eddie scrunches up his face in concentration, and finally says, “I got hit.”

“Hit?” Buck asks, not liking the direction this conversation is going.

Eddie sighs, trying his best to focus on Buck’s face as he works out what to say. “Some guy punched me,” he explains.

“Eddie,” Buck says, half-stern, half-concerned. “What guy?”

“I dunno,” Eddie tells him, honestly. “Just some guy.”

I’m going to have to drag this out of him, Buck thinks. He’s not sure how angry he should be at Eddie, given the current circumstances, but he is angry, because he’s sure he knows what happened - Eddie was street fighting again, and got knocked around a little more than he’d been bargaining for.

Even if he is mad, though, he doesn’t want to let Eddie know. Not right now, when he’s gazing around Buck’s apartment like he can’t remember how he got there. “I’m not mad,” he says, and he gives Eddie a gentle smile. “You were street fighting, right?”

Eddie looks down. “Yeah,” he admits, softly.

“Okay,” Buck says, and decides that’s good enough for now. They’ll talk about this later. “Thank you for telling me.”

Buck gets up from his position on the couch and heads into the bathroom to grab his first-aid kit and some washcloths. He’s going to patch Eddie up a little, then take him to Urgent Care. Ordinarily, he’d either have called 911 already or he’d take Eddie to a regular doctor, but it’s the middle of the night and he doesn’t think waiting till morning is the best idea, but nor does he think Eddie’s concussion is especially bad. Upon noting this, he comes to the startling realization that Eddie had to have gotten here somehow, and he’s betting he didn’t walk.

He emerges back into the living room, supplies in hand, fully intending on telling Eddie off for driving while concussed, but as soon as he comes into Eddie’s field of vision, Eddie’s asking him where he went and looking at him with such obvious concern on his face that Buck can’t stand the thought of yelling at him. When he’s feeling better, he decides, and returns to his place next to Eddie on the couch.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks, tripping slightly over the words. Buck has a first-aid kit and a washcloth and Eddie doesn’t think either of those items is going to help him very much. His head just hurts, that’s all.

“‘M fine,” he insists, reaching up a hand to bat away the cloth that Buck is trying to clean his face with.

“You’re not fine, Eddie, you’re concussed,” Buck explains, pushing his hand away and lightly wiping some of the dirt off of Eddie’s face.

“I am?” Eddie asks, after taking a minute to process the words.

“Yeah,” Buck affirms, gently turning Eddie’s head to the side to inspect the back of his head.

As he’d thought, it’s only a small scrape, but, as is often the case with head wounds, it had bled quite a lot. He begins the careful process of scrubbing the blood out of Eddie’s hair, as best as he can with only a damp washcloth.

“Doesn’t feel nice,” Eddie mumbles, and Buck stops what he’s doing a moment to rub a hand on his back.

“I know,” he says, resuming his cleaning and apologizing when Eddie winces as he hits a sore spot.

A couple of minutes pass in relative silence, with Buck finishing up with Eddie’s hair and moving on to inspecting his hands, which are scraped up and bruising across the knuckles.

He’s about to start bandaging an especially large scrape when Eddie makes a strange sort of choked noise, and he only has time to say, “I don’t feel so-” before he’s leaning forward and throwing up, stars flashing across his field of vision for the second time that day as the pain in his head spikes.

Buck’s hand comes up on Eddie’s back as he coughs and sniffs. “It’s okay, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades. “You’re okay.”

Eddie sure doesn’t feel okay. His head feels like it might explode and his ears have started ringing again and now his throat is burning too, and so is his face, because he’s just been sick on Buck’s floor, and Buck is already probably mad at him for street fighting again, and he hadn’t wanted to, really, but everything had just felt like so much and he hadn’t known what else to do, and-

“Breathe, Eddie,” says Buck’s voice, cutting through his rising panic. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

Slowly, Eddie’s breathing evens back out, and he leans back into the couch with his eyes closed, like that will stop Buck from seeing the tears on his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” he says, yet again, gently reaching up a hand to brush away his tears.

“It’s not,” Eddie says, very quietly.

“Okay, maybe not,” Buck admits, carefully pulling Eddie closer to him with an arm around his shoulders. “But we’re going to take you to Urgent Care, and make sure you’re alright, and then we’ll bring you back here and you can rest, and we’ll work on being okay in the morning.”

That sounds nice, Eddie decides, leaning his head into Buck’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay in the morning,” he echoes.

thanks very much for reading this!!! i hope that you have a very nice whatever time of day you are having :)

#whumptober2020 #no.26 #concussion #911 #fic #eddie diaz #head injury #collapse #vomiting #my writing #i say things #dw buck will take him to urgent care right after this :)

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himbo-buckley · 4 years

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Sex, Intimacy and Buddie (better known as I have a lot of feelings about this show, some of which are related to the before mentioned topics) - Part 5

Hej alla,

hur cool att du är här! Vad kul!

(Kay, that’s it, all the Swedish I remember from two semesters of not really studying, so it’s probably also wrong, uups?)

(Still passed though.)

You guys! We made it! And please, do not imagine this read to you in a happy voice. I am sobbing. I already miss it!

(Also, if you do imagine how I might sound please consider due to several unforseeable circumstances of student exchanges in my youth I have a very weird mixture of British and American English, which basically translates to sounding like either of those doing a bad impression of the other accent - or you know, Australian.)

I’m really having a hard time finishing this meta because I loved doing it so much and I loved talking to all of ya’ll so much. This is a sad moment. (HEY, what if ya’ll came and visited my askbox and I get to discuss random stuff with you!)

Just a fair warning now, somewhere hidden in the middle: this thing is fucking long! We are talking longer than Season 2, so be warned!

Anyways, in case someone is new:

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

And some general info:

This meta was supposed to be a lot shorter and only talk about how both Buck and Eddie use sex to distract their respective partners from whatever topic they actually wanted to talk about but since I decided to rewatch the show to make sure I don’t miss any such scenes, it has exploded a bit and taken on more topics

I should also mention that I am a Buddie shipper and while I tried, you will find several references and arguments for the ship in this Meta, not all of which necessarily call for a romantic pairing but just: These two are deeply connected and you cannot look at one without discussing the other and they are each other’s strongest emotional connection.

I should also preface this by saying that the whole of the 118 has some obvious intimacy / commitment issues except Bobby (which is sort of surprising) but *John Mulaney voice* we don’t have time to unpack all of that!

On another note I cuss a little in this Meta because my parents let me listen to TicTacToe as a small child and after that it never stuck that cussing is wrong so, uhm, parental supervision is advised or something

This Meta has FIVE parts. Season 1 and 2 make up one part each, while Season 3, due to something pesky called feelings and the fact that I can’t shut up, has been split in three parts: Part 3 aka Season 3A, which spans 3.01 - 3.10, Part 4 which spans 3.11 - 3.17 and this part which is officially only one episode - but still manages to be just as long. Yay! (Sorry.)

And now for the last time for now: part 5 (also called „You’re a godless, half-witted himbo, Evan Buckley, and I wish I loved you less so I could talk about it more“)

Episode 3.18:

My oh my, this episode.

I loved it but I also … didn’t.

It was way too much and at times felt a little rushed and the pacing was just weird.

I mean I loved the party but did we really need 5 min of it? Did we really need Josh’s storyline and Michael’s so randomly in the middle of the episode? Could we have gotten a longer apology scene? Why the weird phone call?

Let’s talks about all of that! (It’s why you clicked read more, right?)

Ya’ll, I gotta be honest, I am from Europe and I regularly go to places via train and while it’s better than a bus, I can’t see anyone falling in love with that! I am just gonna assume Abby did not go by train in Germany. Or Austria. Or Italy. Listen, I like trains just fine but man, do they not look like what we see here!

But also, as someone who has watched Community, the train lady saying „This isn’t Subway“ in an Episode where the human embodiment of Subway acts is very very funny to me.

I feel like I don’t have to point out how significant the cut from Abby saying „They stopped waiting for me a long time ago“ to Buck and Eddie discussing Chris is. Everyone has talked about it by now. But yes, it registered, as did the fact that Abby is dating a single father - while Buck is apparently basically dating a single father. But, you know, that probably means nothing! *chugs a whole bottle of wine*

The co-parenting was very cute and honestly I feel for Christopher and Carla and the firefam is Buddie does happen because they will try to out-protect each other and it will be glorious and also Chris might never get to leave the nest ever. That poor boy.

Sidenote: We as a fandom have not talked enough about Eddie’s reaction to Bobby yodelling and I think that’s very tragic of us. Because his reaction is the best, all: „Is he - should I - no, you know what, fuck it, Eddie, ignore this, that’s too much, you can not unpack all of this, just move on. Brush it off!“

Just watch his face ya’ll, it’s great! (He will be talking to Frank about this, I know it.)

Sidenote: Also Eddie in 3.15 / 3.15. / 3.17 / 3.18 > any other Eddie, and no, I do not take criticism. That boy has always been fine but the military hair cut or what ever is doing things to me as do his happy eyes and the smiles - my god, the smiles!

It does seem significant though the way the show focused so heavily on Buck’s reaction and - as it had been the case since „Eddie Begins“ - we basically don’t see Eddie without Buck and that’s weird. That feels pointed and important, the fact that after realising, who his family is, Eddie basically never leaves Buck’s side if they are at work.

Also the way Chimney and Bobby look at each other in between, yeah, again, making fun of Christopher’s dads! Like, even if you don’t read this as Buddie, you cannot not read this scene as somewhat confirming the „Buck is Christopher’s other parent“-thing. And I know I answered an ask on Tuesday(?) where I said he wasn’t really but yeah, he is getting there. The whole season spent a lot of time focusing on Buck’s relationship with Christopher and even if it isn’t about Buddie, I still think it will cause trouble in Season 4 if Eddie begins dating again, specifically Chris’ teacher.

I also need to talk about Eddie and control, because like I said in part 4 Eddie needs to learn to let go of Christopher a little which is what we see here happening, specifically through the lens of making Buck even more overprotective than Eddie to really cement the fact in all our minds that Eddie is trying to let his son have some freedom. I am so proud of him, you guys! He just signed up for the worst two weeks of his life, he will be dying on the inside out of concern and Buck will pester him every two seconds about whether or not Chris is fine. This is why these three haven’t been to Disneyland, ya’ll! Eddie wouldn’t be able to handle it without murdering either Buck or himself. I’m sorry.

And speaking of how the episode is cut:

One thing I love about 911 is the way it always makes me consider new character pairings and connections I myself would have never thought of, in the context of this episode: Athena, Josh - and Eddie.

And look, the Athena and Josh thing is daunting enough but you can probably still catch my train of thought, because both are recent victims of assault and the episode shows them dealing with trauma and confronting their attacker, even though in Athena’s case it was just theoretical. But now you’re probably wondering, okay, why Eddie?

Well, for starters, what the episode made me realise, whether on purpose on not through cutting from scene to scene is how many similarities there are between Eddie and Athena, both of them always trying to be in control, both of them more prone to violence / more okay with violence than the others, both soft underneath, both with a tendency to let anger take over, both considered to be extremely capable, both with an intense need for control, both straight talker.

And now I will obviously not pretend that letting your child go to sleep away camp for two weeks is similar too confronting your assailant who beat you up, but still: facing fears and letting go of control vs. finding different ways to regain control is the theme for these three in the episode (or this Season in Eddie’s case) and I like it.

I really like what they did with Athena in general in this episode, because, while I don’t think we will see her as a civilian in Season 4, I am confident they will address her trauma and PTSD - especially if they only do a short time jump of say three months and not jump all the way to January / February which is when it might air if we’re lucky.

And I do think the comparison between her and Josh is very nicely done as both characters did the whole brushing it off / moving forward / I am not fazed by any of it thing, as we as viewers clearly saw what utter bullshit this was.

Which of course connects nicely to Mr. „Brush it off and move on“ who has spent a whole season learning to not just move on but to talk about it. A lesson he might have learned? At least that’s what the episode made me think, from the way he came to Buck / the firefam to talk about Christopher and camp to the way he so clearly tried to get Buck to open up about Abby. Jup, that is some motherforking growth right there!

I also wanna say hi to Brooke Shields and say I hope we see her again, cause her character seemed interesting!

And I do appreciate Athena herself addressing the fact that she messed up a little by not calling for back-up right away. This is not meant in a victim blaming way, I just think Athena is very used to handling everything on her own and not asking for help and it is interesting to see how that changes, now that it has backfired on her once.

And now we are getting into the Abby of it all and if anyone reading this is anti Buddie or severely pro Abby this is the moment to either leave or scroll down some more, because ya’ll I won’t really hold back!

(I think.)

I wanna begin by saying, uhm, Abigail, honey? Can you not read what is written on Eddie’s and everyone else’s helmets? Yes, he is from the 118, it literally says so on like every article of clothing he is wearing, omg!

(Writers, do better, that made an already unlikeable character seem downright stupid.)

Now it is very interesting, that the first person we see Abby interact with directly from the main cast (I’m counting the phone call with Maddie as indirectly) is Eddie who doesn’t know who Abby is but who is close enough to Buck to know the second he sees her who she is. The episode spends just as much time focusing on his reaction to Abby as 3.15 did on Buck’s reaction and tbh that feels … fairly non platonic. Of course we can always go back to „Stuck“ and remember what Hen said about Tatiana but still. That was one scene, here we have several scenes highlighting Eddie’s reaction to Abby and just, what do you want me to do with this, Tim?

I mean, the meeting scene literally goes like this:

Eddie *talking to Abby* > cut to Buck, coming closer > Buck: „Abby?“ > cut to both Abby and *Eddie* > Abby: „Buck?“ while the camera is still on her and Eddie > cut to just Eddie’s face having a realisation > cut to Buck

That is some very extreme focus if we’re being honest.

Also her panic reminds everyone of Buck in 3.15, right? The way she is screaming, disregarding her own safety, all desperate to get to her fiancé. Yeah.

I like how Eddie lets them talk and then steps in when he realises Buck is too shocked and only then rushes off, nearly touching Buck. Too be honest I didn’t realise his hand didn’t make contact until I saw some gifs of the scene.

Also the way Oliver plays this scene? The whole scene is so painful and I love it a lot, his whole delivery is so very painful, from the way he says „We’ll find him.“ to the „Um, what’s his name?“ to the „No. Oh. Don’t worry about it.“ because you can actually see him go through all the emotions from devastation to being so very pissed off and then locking that shit down!

Listen, I know it was teased that Buck had to grapple between being a professional and his personal feelings and I think this episode is him being a professional, because this is Buck and Buck cares so for Buck being a professional means risking his life for some guy on the train, regardless of his promise and who he is engaged to.

Sidenote: This episode really brought home why Eddie is a firefighter and not a paramedic, because his bedside manner is shit. „This is gonna hurt a little“. Way to downplay, dude!

Also, while I do love the idea of Buck getting to be Captain one day, I think this episode shows why he won’t be. Because even when he is being professional and having great ideas Buck still cares too much and is unable to make the hard decisions. Compare it to Eddie, who, yes, does say „If we have to choose“, but also is willing to make the choice. Because sometimes you have to. (And now I’m crying a little and oh my, this is why I do not work in any job that has me make such decisions because I could not imagine living with myself if I did.)

I do think however Buck did good, from the way he talked to Sam being his usual self and all.

I’m also such a fan of smart Buck and him standing up for himself with Bobby because he doesn’t get to do this often enough and because it is important for him as a character to learn to trust his own judgement and not depend so much on Bobby’s approval. So yay, my baby is growing up!

(Also, obviously Bobby’s worry was also about Buck and not just Athena, we’ve had half a season of Bobby doing the most to „protect“ Buck, mostly against his will, so I really like that Buck got to do the rescue his way in the end, because it shows growth on both sides.)

Now, Eddie and his dramatic reaction in this scene, first of all:

I wanna take a moment to remember the fact that Edmundo Diaz, my main man, my love, my absolute ray of grey sunshine, apparently lacks any kind of self-awareness - or he would stop acting all high and mighty around Buck because the second Buck is out of view he like, drops any pre-tense of having critical thinking skills or something akin to self-preservation and does the next thing that enters his bird brain no matter the consequences. So a moment of silence for Hen, Chimney and Bobby and all they had to go through in the 6/7 months between Buck getting crushed by a ladder truck and coming back to work, because Buck? They can at least make fun of. Or tell him: yo, bro, you being stupid!

You can’t do that with Eddie - because when Eddie does stupid he gone nearly die but like in a heroic way where he still ends up saving himself and you have to be impressed. Urgh, the nerve!

So, you know what, how about, Mr. Edmundo Diaz, you do not judge Buck for wanting to save people and risk his own life UNTIL WE HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU CUTTING THAT MOTHERFORKING ROPE? Got me? Thanks. (I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed, dude.)

(But then again EVERY MOTHERFORKING CHARACTER ON THIS DAMN SHOW SUFFERS FROM CRAZY STUPID DISEASE and no, I do not take any criticism.)

Also I loved Eddie’s dialog and how clearly the whole thing about the promise slipped out if the way his hands closed are anything to go by (or was he imagining punching some sense either into himself or Buck because in both cases: Call Frank, Eddie!). Anyway the way he just left, like, „I can not deal with ya’ll’s stupidity, I am leaving!“ has me shook! That is the top tear entertainment I expect from my favourite show and I love them for it!

I do love how both Buck and Eddie are in protector mode in this episode, Buck with Sam and Abby and Eddie with Buck, especially because if we’re being honest, which we are (this is a safe space ya’ll), Eddie is the one being far more unprofessional! For his standards, of course.

But this is the closest Eddie has come to showing some form of violence since 3a viewed chronologically (because 3.15 happened mostly in the past) yet Buck is just being is usual too caring self. It’s telling and it’s interesting and I’m just gonna say one thing:

„No one is good when it’s personal.“ - because for Buck with Sam it isn’t really personal (though that won’t hit him until later) but for Eddie it kinda is because he is worried about Buck. (And now I did spell it out! But, oh well, I did say we were gonna do some Buddie right around here!)

Sidenote: what exactly was the meaning / reason of that phone call between Abby and her stepdaughter? We already knew Sam had children and from the was she was looking outside they could have had her just see Buck and step out of the tent to watch the rescue, so why do it this way I ask? Why this incredibly unnecessary phone call that felt so very awkward?

Also I am not gonna talk about that scene right now, because I get mad every single time!

So I will just leave a link to what I’ve said about this scene so far here *and* give you the notes I took on this scene:

ALWAYS READY TO DIE

godless heathen of a man he makes me so angry i hate him i hate this show I wanna leave

EVAN BUCKLEY LOOKS GOD IN THE EYES AND SAYS NAH BRO NOT TODAY

(It’s not like his suicidal tendencies are relevant to this meta anyways because like I said a few paragraphs ago: The whole firefam has them! )

Also, for the first time ever: here is a picture I took while watching the show because what are these two extras doing? Why are they touching like that? Who are they and will we see them again? Does my brain get easily distracted by completely unrelated things?

Anyways, the way Buck answers Sam „She’s down there waiting for you.“ when he asks for Abby and his „Good to meet you Sam.“ really brings home how none of his behaviour was about Abby and all about Buck being Buck. (And now I am angry at him again, urgh, THE NERVE! Selfless fucking himbo!)

I really liked that Sam knew who Buck was and that they got to have this little interaction where he probably reevaluated the whole night because that boy just risked his life for him, the guy marrying his ex-girlfriend, and has spent the whole night being so very nice to him and talking to him. Not gonna lie, Buck is a good guy through and through and Sam probably feels like shit now.

Also Eddie coming to stand in front of Buck - I know some people think it was out of protectiveness, which got me thinking:

Tbh at first I was convinced it was a camera angle thing? Because if Eddie stood behind Buck we wouldn’t really see him. Then I thought, so why choose this angle to film it? Obviously the set had to be built a certain way so was there no other way to do it? Also why was it even important, that we saw Eddie arrive like that, couldn’t they have just changed the angle after Abby was gone to get Eddie in the frame? Why was it important that we knew that Eddie was there and 1) was putting himself physically between Abby and Buck meaning 2) that when Abby leaves with her single father, Buck is left with his single father? Why does an episode that is supposed to give Buck closure focus so much on the reactions of his non romantic partner?

(Because tbh, even if they needed to find ways to use Ryan Guzman in this Episode without adding too many scenes, they could have done it with less focus on Abby. I say this as a Buddie shipper who does recognise how important the connection Buck and Eddie have as friends is: storyline wise Bobby would have made more sense in most of these scenes and Eddie could have been used in a different way.)

I’ll leave this scene with the very nice visual of Buck running back to the traincrash and Eddie following him. These two. Like magnets.

And a quick topic change, because I do wanna talk about Michael and Doctor Hale as well in this meta, one because I found them very cute and two because I’ve now talked to a few people about Ana and Eddie and while we by now know she will probably be in Season 4, I feel like we need to compare Michael and Doctor Hale vs Eddie and Ana. Because there is such a difference in the way these love interests where introduced.

Now, of course we need to realise that Eddie and Michael are fairly different characters and Michael has way less relationship related baggage than Eddie has which is why he goes after what he wants way faster (also, carpe diem, he just found out he won’t die). Also of course, there is no moral component to address in Michael dating some doctor vs. Eddie dating his son’s teacher, but still:

Michael and Dr. Hale had one scene together and it wasn’t even overly flirty and yet, we knew where it was heading, we felt the chemistry and everyone ended the episode saying: I ship it, more of that - which they did give us, just *one* episode later. They had some awkward moments, yet the show never left a single doubt in your mind where this is heading.

Now look at Eddie and Ana:

Sidenote: I do wanna say be kind to the character and no hate, especially not to the actress! Yes, she needs to be flashed out more; no, what we saw so far does not make me ship them; no, I do not mind if they dated a little.

First of all we learned more about Doctor Hale in the two short scenes than we did about Ana in four scenes. That seems deliberate.

Second, while we do realise Eddie thinks Ana is attractive from the get go she repeatedly shuts him down by pointedly saying „Mr. Diaz“.

Third, every scene between them - and I mean every single scene - is connected to Buck in some way:

In „Fools“ we cut from Buck saying he likes being single to Eddie doing parent-teacher conference and yes, meeting some other teachers first but also Ana, showing us that while Buck is fine with being single - Eddie might not be. Also, Carla’s „blue eyes“ line which is a little clown-y, so take it with a grain of salt that it could connect us to Buck

Then of course her next scene is Eddie getting in her face about Christopher being hurt. Later in the episode we see Buck reference this on a call, meaning either Carla or Eddie told Buck about it (I am leaning a little toward Carla making fun of Eddie in front of Buck and Eddie then having to come clean about all of it, because I cannot wrap my head about the idea of Eddie telling Buck about having a crush, I’m sorry.)

Her next scene is Eddie coming to apologise to her and she gives her speech about limitations - which we can of course connect to Buck and Eddie talking about Christopher and his limitations before that and then afterwards going skateboarding with them. (It does feel a little deliberate.)

And then of course we have „Eddie Begins“ and you guys, they could have very very easily have either Carla or Buck make a joke about Mrs. Flores and Eddie’s crush in the firehouse scene, but they didn’t! And then we do get to see her at the end where she has one whole line and Eddie barely looks at her and you know what happens? They have a child ask the same question Buck asked at the beginning, making us think of Buck. Like, it would have been enough to establish Eddie doesn’t feel like a hero if the question was asked only once - twice in the span of 45 minutes constitutes a callback, meaning we are supposed to think of the other scene and that means thinking about the other person that asked, which was Buck

And yes, once Season 4 premieres and we get Eddie and Ana in this epic romance because Tim Minear wants to be the next Rick Berman, I will go back to this meta and beat my own ass. Or something.

(Listen, her returning in Season 4 does not mean endgame or the end of Buddie, it just means Eddie might get a love interest. Tbh I actually think it could get us closer to Buddie and you know what, I’m just gonna link all my Ana Flores posts here here and here now so you can read all the other stuff I, alongside some other people, said on this topic, if you’re interested because none of this has a point right now.)

Now, let’s get into the meat of things and talk about *that* scene:

Was it a good apology? No.

Did Buck deserve better? Fuck yes.

Did he get closure? Yes.

Is the way that scene was done actually perfect? I mean, ya’ll, yes? A little?

Listen, this scene was always about closure and that’s what Buck got here and that’s what Buck needed.

Buck, who in Season 1 had described Abby as the perfect woman, needed it to go down like this so he could realise she wasn’t and he could finally let her go. And that’s what it was about!

Obviously looking at Abby’s character this episode does not make her look good, like not at all and I’d be very surprised if we ever saw her again. But looking at it from Buck’s point of view it was exactly what he needed. (Not what he deserved, but yeah, if this show was about what Buck deserved it would be a whole lot different and Buddie would be canon by now.)

One thing I really loved about the scene was the way it was filmed, with LA in front of us, Abby and Buck with their backs to the camera and us only ever seeing them in profile, because it was a private moment and this sort of made you feel like you were intruding. Like you were listening in on a conversation and I liked that a lot.

Also I think her speech about losing herself through helping people is very interesting because it contrasts her to Buck. Buck found himself in helping others and lost himself when he was no longer allowed to do that and I think that is what she means when she says she would have lost herself with him again. Because Buck is selfless and he is so selfless he inspires others to be the same, except Abby isn’t but being with Buck she would need to be and that is a problem.

Look, if you’ve followed this blog at all or maybe just read part one of the meta you have probably guessed by now that I don’t like Abby. I found her character boring. I thought she overstepped all the time. I got so mad at her for the way she treated Buck in Season 1!

Because in 1.06 she *actually* complains about him being too thoughtful and scared of messing up while calling him a *toy boy*. The truth is, after 1.05 and their first meeting, Abby no longer takes him seriously. She hardly ever takes his feelings into consideration. The relationship, from Valentines Day onward becomes all about what she wants and what she needs and our Buck is the selfless idiot who gives her his all.

I mean, she never even talked to Buck about wanting to leave, just presented him with her decision and then lived her life and never thought about him again.

And like, I think she is wrong if she thinks she’d have lost herself with him again, because Buck was what showed her that she lost herself in the first place. He helped her on the path of self-aquaintance (I guess? I’m lacking the word here), but she is right if she means the relationship wouldn’t have worked.

Because one of them would have lost themselves, though I do think it would have been Buck and not Abby. After all, Buck was the one who gave everything up from the get go and yes, Abby helped trigger him finding himself alongside Bobby and the job and she did help him stay on that path in the beginning - but in the end it was never about her at all. It was about him and him alone and the amazing person he had always been.

And I think that is what Buck realises in the scene. Despite Abby ghosting him, he still looked at her through rose coloured glasses and with fondness, but here, he realises, oh, Abby isn’t perfect. Abby isn’t like the woman I made her out to be. Abby never really cared about me. And as much as that probably hurt, this is what Buck needed to let go of her!

He needed to see that Abby wasn’t the perfect woman so he could let her go - and find himself the perfect person, someone who reciprocates and doesn’t just take. (Am I crying?)

(And look, I am not saying he already found someone like that, someone who proved in this episode how much they care about Buck and his feelings and making sure he comes home every night to his family - I’m saying he found someone who is working on being that person!)

Let’s talk about Eddie and Abby for a second, again, okay?

(Bro, how did I just get to that topic? So random! *laughs in Buddie*)

When I watched the episode my second time to take notes, I wrote one that said ‚Abby and Eddie parallels / lawsuit‘ - and I gotta be honest I barely remember what I meant. But I did still produce some thoughts (just not sure if that was where I was going with the note, so if anyone has some other ideas, please share):

You know how Abby talks about losing herself when she is with Buck? Well, I know someone who lost themselves just this season because he wasn’t with Buck! (Jup, we’re back with the lawsuit, ya’ll really thought I wouldn’t bring this up? You guys! More than 20000 words and you still don’t know me!)

It’s a very nice parallel to have Abby talking about losing herself with Buck when we saw Eddie losing himself without Buck. Because while I think Eddie himself is a selfless person just like Buck, similar to how Buck needed Abby in Season 1 as a catalyst of change so to speak, Buck was the catalyst of change for Eddie.

I talked a lot in the other parts about Eddie having problems with voicing his needs and feelings - and now please once again look at his relationship with Buck. Because here he has been doing this, not from the get go of course, Eddie didn’t take one look at Buck and his whole life was turned upside down (that was Buck looking at Eddie), but I think Buck steamrolling through Eddie’s life helped Eddie find himself. Buck, from the get go, is a calm centre for Eddie, an anchor, even after he reconnects with Shannon. Buck is who he turns to in a crisis, who he trusts with his son, with having his back.

And I think in both cases - Abby and Buck as well as Eddie and Buck - the relationship is brought to the next level through Buck’s selflessness and willingness to help. But while Abby just takes it and doesn’t really see it as the gift it is and never fully lets Buck in, Eddie does the opposite. Eddie, whether knowing or unknowing, makes himself exactly what Buck needs: someone who puts trust in him, who treats him like an equal, who opens his home and his family to him. And he also tries (and this is a big thing considering who we’re talking about right now) to be there for Buck, to be his anchor just like Buck is his - which obviously works with mixed results, because one person, no matter how hard they try can never fix the problems of someone else alone. Believe me. I’ve tried.

And wow, did that get deep and fast! Damn ya’ll and I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in like 5 days. This show really gives me all the feels!

Now, to keep me and maybe ya’ll from crying I’m gonna change the subject and talk about something else, also known as the rest of the episode:

To go back to the start of the episode, Buddie really had some extreme couple / family vibes going on, especially with Christopher in the mix. It’s telling that they included a scene of Buck and Christopher specifically and it was to remind us once again that these two have a strong bond. I won’t go all: Buddie confirmed, this is were we are heading, ya’ll! Because as you must have realised by now I am fairly cautious when it comes to this and am always fighting to keep my own clownery at bay, but I do have to say so far nothing in this show and Season 3B specifically has read as a red flag for me, disapproving the possibility or making me feel queerbaited. Now, maybe I am just very off in my intuition and they will change gear in Season 4, but well, right now I have some hope! I also loved the scene of Christopher going to camp and the card which reminded me of 3.01 and also, Eddie looks so good here! And he came so far, letting his son go to camp and all!

Of course I would have loved to see Buck there as well, but one, that would have been a Buddie confirmed and we’re not quite there yet and I’m glad cause right now they aren’t fully ready (in show terms, fanfiction is something different), and two this proves what I said about Buck and Christopher being connected and him having parental / fatherly feelings toward the boy but like, not being his actual father yet! Buck loves Chris and Chris loves Buck and obviously he is part of the Diaz family - but he also isn’t.

(Also: I went to something like camp when I was 11 and you think both my parents brought me? Nah, son, they didn’t. My dad brought me while my mom made breakfast.)

Now, some sidenotes to round it all off:

Karen is a gift and I really hope we see more of her because omg, I wanna be her friend, I wanna be her wife, I wanna learn about life from her! She is awesome and I will never fully forgive Hen for cheating on her, like girly, Eva isn’t even close to Karen on any level?

And speaking of Hen, I love the subplot of Chim coming to terms with her potentially leaving and deciding to help her because he was who she really needed on her side - not anyone else. I’d write a meta on their relationship but tbh it’s so consistent and unproblematic, I really don’t know what to write except: goals about 10000 times. Which isn’t that different to me finding new ways to write THE CONNECTION, if we’re being honest but oh well! Now it’s too late to stop that!

I loved Athena getting spooked by Bobby showing up behind her when she was getting a drink - talk about this show finally addressing the trauma these characters go through! And it only took, oh well, about 35 episodes. Let’s hope that is the energy they bring into Season 4.

Now the apology scene with Bobby, I do hate how Buck is once again the one apologising and especially since it’s with Bobby but I do think it was a nice scene and a great callback to 3.01. Also this episode showed a lot of growth in Bobby and Buck’s relationship. Because after 3a was all about Bobby projecting onto Buck and making decisions for him based on what he thought was the right thing, this episode not only had Buck standing up to Bobby in a healthy and adult way (no lawsuit this time!) but also Bobby giving in and letting Buck make the decision even if he disagreed. That is some motherforking growth right here and Babe, I hope you are not to disappointed with me, but if they keep Bobby like this I might actually begin to see his appeal to people (still need him to suffer the consequences of his actions, though).

But to end on a great note:

Buck is doing okay and - most importantly - MADNEY BABY!!! You guys, we knew it was coming from the promos and all but I cried! I cried so hard! I am so happy for them! These two soft characters and their amazing, open, caring, trusting, adult relationship deserves all the luck in their fictional universe!

Whew, you guys! We’ve done it! And it’s longer than Season 2 (I’m sorry, are ya’ll surprised? This episode was a lot!)

I feel like I should write some form of conclusion to this whole meta and yet my words elude me. Here are the few I have for you though:

This meta began with the idea that neither Buck nor Eddie really knew how to be emotionally intimate with a person and instead used sex as a substitute. This is no longer true for either character.

Buck has learned through his relationship with Abby, that he can be both physically and emotionally intimate with a person and he has proven how this is still true in his reaction to Taylor and his relationship with Ali, what little we saw of it. Furthermore Season 3B specifically showed that Buck, while still afraid to open up to people, is trying. I do think Season 4 is heading toward some kind of romance for him and while I am praying to several deities I do not believe in and the universe itself that it is Eddie, I am not sure. I hope so. But never the less, my shipping aside, Buck has grown tremendously in the course of 3 Seasons and I am so impressed both with his character and the way the show has so realistically done it. I love him. Even more than Buddie I hope we get to see him truly happy in Season 4, happy and settled and learning what life actually holds for him because that kid could rule the world if he wanted to. Now, Eddie: It’s funny, when I began this meta I felt more connected to Buck, I didn’t really see myself in Eddie, I barely had a grasp on his character at times. Now? Now he is my favourite, I love his greyness, his goodness despite his faults, the way he always struggles with himself to do better, to be better because it doesn’t come naturally to him, because it has been taught to him to do the opposite. And that is so impressive. I love the growth we saw in him, the evolution, the fight to be a better man than his own role-models and I love especially how all of this was motivated by and for his son. He truly loves him more than life itself and I am so impressed with 911 subverting something that feels like a very female storyline by giving it to a man.

But of course Eddie isn’t done yet and Eddie still struggles with intimacy and opening up but he is getting there. Through Frank and Buck and for Christopher he is fighting and he is getting there and I love that for him and about him! He deserves to be happy in Season 4 just like Buck, but mostly he deserves to be at peace with himself!

And I already talked at length about Ana and their potential and linked what I thought didn’t fit in here, so I will not bore you by repeating myself and just say: wait. Wait and see. Maybe the show will surprise us. Maybe it won’t. Maybe corona will kill us all before we have a chance to see Season 4. Maybe we are in the Matrix and the blue pill is a metaphor for being trans. Life is strange!

Also on a more personal note I wanna say thank you to everyone who has read and liked and reblogged and commented. I love all of you. Your support and trust in what I am saying has meant a lot and will mean just as much in the future and I do hope I get to do this again in like a year once they return!

(Also, not to sound needy but another reminder to please reblog and comment? Because I *am* actually writing this because I really wanna talk about the show and my feelings and your thoughts and you know, that can only happen if ya’ll do some reblogging)

(Or come to my ask if you are more comfortable being even more anonymous, I don’t judge - I NEVER ask question any other way!)

In diesem Sinne: hamma wieder was gelernt, recht herzlichen Dank für Ihre Aufmerksamkeit und auf Wiedersehen!

Also, of course, the tagging:

@chimbuckleys @angelcamael @greyhello @the-family-we-choose-118 @ipleiade @sevensoulmates

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie meta #buck meta #eddie meta #911 meta #911 #911 fox #meta #textpost #mine #season 3 #my meta

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loveistherootofhappiness · 4 years

Note

#12 surprised date while working late....911 Bobby and athena

I was finally able to get around to writing this. Sorry about the lateness. I’m not going to preface it too much and just let you read it. I hope you like it! Thank you for prompting me.

Fandom: 9-1-1 Paring: Bathena Rating: General Word Count: 1911

“Hey, it’s Valentine’s Day. I just wanted to tell her that I loved her,” Silverman said cheekily, as Athena’s handcuffed the struggling man with ease and placed him In Clark’s squad car.

“Of course you did. Just like you have the last 6000 times this month.” Athena rolled her eyes at the man, annoyed that this was the 4th time this week she was arresting him. “Do you know what the words restraining order mean?”

“Oh, come on, she didn’t mean that! She was just playing,” looking past her he see the complainant, Brittni, standing on the sidewalk talking with one of the other officers, “tell ‘em, baby, tell ‘em that I love you. You didn’t mean all those things-“ Athena, having heard this speech way too many times this week, closed the door.

She could still hear his muffled words of “affection” as she walked away. Before walking to her squad car, she walked where Brittni stood talking to Derek. “When we take him in this time, leave him there.” Brittni had the good sense to look sheepish and gave a nod. Athena nodded back choosing not to say anything else and praying that she heads her warning this time. She gave a look to Derek and patted him on the shoulder before walking back to her own squad car.

She spotted her young protege, Braxton, leaning against the hood, giving her a hand clap as she walked to the car. “Nicely done, Sarg.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Unfortunately, it’s all in vain. Knowing these two, we’ll be back.” Athena told her as she got into the driver’s side.

“I bet you lunch tomorrow, he’ll bail out and be back here by the end of the day today,” Braxton flopped down in the passenger seat, “today is Love Day, after all. Makes people do the most.”

“I’m not even going to take you up on that because I know it’s a losing battle.” Athena gazed out at the young woman, “now if only the two of them could figure that out.”

Braxton chuckled and was about to comment when the beeping of her phone caught her attention. She fished the device out of her pocket and smiled when she saw the text notification over the lock screen photo of her family.

From: Mr. Sarg 🙃 Does she suspect anything?

Braxton smiled down at her phone as she thought fondly about Bobby’s plan. She stole a look at Athena, who was currently concentrating on writing notes on her tablet. She knew that Bobby kept this solely between the two of them and she hadn’t told anyone.

Nah, she has no idea.😉

After replying, she closed her messages and went to the notes app, to read over the plan once more. She thought it was sweet, what Bobby was doing for them tonight and she was happy to be involved.

“Is there a reason you’re smiling so much over there?” Braxton startled a bit at the sound of Athena’s voice. She looked up to see her Sergeant eyeing her questioningly.

“Oh yeah, Jay sent me some cute pictures of her cuddling with the pups and some loving messages,” Braxton lied smoothly as she locked her phone and dropped in her lap.

Athena’s gazed at the young rookie, questioning whether or not she believed her. Braxton steeled herself with another line of questioning when,

“All available units, back up requested in Lincoln Heights. Domestic dispute turned hostage situation, suspect appears to be armed.”

“That’s like the next ‘hood over from here.”

Athena flopped her head back against the seat and sighed audibly, “love day, my ass,” she grumbled. Picking up her radio, she responded, “dispatch, unit 212 responding, we’re in route now.”

“Today’s so fun. I love working on Holidays,” Braxton joked. Athena just eyed her as she put the car in gear and drove towards the next call. As much as they disliked it, rise in domestics and similar calls was par for the course on holidays, especially Valentine’s Day.

That’s how the rest of the day went. Their shift was full of domestics and extravagant gestures gone wrong. As the evening settled into night, things started to wind down and they were just patrolling, nothing happening except a couple or routine traffic stops. That was normal though. There was always an “an eye in the storm” so to speak, before the craziness picked back up again.

“It’s almost your break time, Sarg.” Braxton commented as they rode through the streets.

“Is it? I didn’t even notice. The hours tend to run together on these type of days.” She stifled a yawn as she rubbed her eyes. It didn’t matter how long she’d been doing this, she’d never be used to these type of days, especially when she had someone she’d rather be spending her time with.

She opened her phone to the love filled message that Bobby sent her at the start of her shift this afternoon, rereading the words as she had several times today. He’d left her a rose and a well made breakfast this morning, the only time they were able to “interact” all day. Every time she thought about sneaking off to visit him another call would come in. She hoped they would run into each other, but their paths didn’t cross today.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Braxton asked, interrupting her train of thought.

“Just that I’d rather be spending time with my husband right now.”

“I feel you.” Braxton said as she sent quick texts to Bobby and Elaine.

To: Mr. Sarg 🙃 Everything all set on your end?

From: Mr. Sarg 🙃 All set.

Braxton was excited. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

To: Cap Laney 👮🏻♀️ Hey, everything’s a go, if it’s still all good with you?

From: Cap Laney 👮🏻♀️ It is. Tell Athena she can have 45 minutes for this one.

It’s was amazing how lenient their captain was about us spending time with loved ones. As long as they didn’t go overboard and were still monitoring the radio, meeting up with a friend or family member during shift breaks was fine.

All she needed to do now was let her friend in dispatch know. “Where do you wanna go to eat? Oh, since we’re in Koreatown there’s really good place on-"

“Report of suspicious activity in Grand Park, limited information known at this time, any available units in the area?” Braxton stifled her giggle as she heard her superior cursing under her breath.

“Unit 212 responding.” Athena answered.

“Might be nothing.” Braxton kept up the unassuming facade.

“Doubt it. This is probably the start of the second wave.”

“We’ll see.”

It took them less then 10 minutes to arrive at the park. As they scanned the area the park was a little less lively than during the day, but the people they did see weren’t doing anything that could be considered suspicious. Athena and Braxton decided to check the areas that were a little less lit and quieter to make sure nothing was going on there.

As she walked across the lawn, Athena felt a firm hand grab her shoulder. Wasting no time, she grabbed her gun and rounded on the unknown person, knowing that it wasn’t her partner. She soon found herself pointing her gun at her husband.

“Bobby! What the hell? I could’ve shot you! What are you doing here? I thought you were at work?” Athena asked frantically as her heart pounded. She looked over at her partner to find her laughing.

“Okay, maybe getting your attention that way wasn’t the smartest idea.”

“You think?!” Athena put her gun back in the holster, “but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

“A little birdie told me that this was your break time today, so I thought I’d surprise you with a little lunch date. While you had the time.” Bobby grabbed her hand and led her over to a near by picnic table that had a candles, flowers, and a meal for two set up on it.

“How?” Athena asked as the wheels kept turning in her head.

“He and I have been setting this up for the last few days.”

“I contacted Braxton when I found out that we wouldn’t be able to see each other for yet another holiday. She said she could set something up.”

“Most of this was his idea. I just made sure that everything went the way it was supposed to. Surprise!”

Athena said nothing in response as she let it all settle in her mind. “So the call?”

“Dispatch was in on it. So was the rest of the shift. They knew were the only ones that was supposed to respond to it.”

“Wait the entire shift was in on this?” Athena asked.

“Yep, Cap too. She also told me to tell you that you can have 45 minutes for this one. Well, I’m gonna leave you guys to it. See ya Sarg, Mr. Sarg, I’m gonna go have some Korean fried chicken and call my wife to tell her about this. See you in 45.” Braxton walked away before Athena could get another word in.

“You know the Mr. Sarg thing is starting to grow on me, makes me think about that discussion we had about me taking your last name,” He looked to see Athena’s eyes squinted at him, “what? Robert Carter does have a nice ring to it.”

Turning towards her husband, she smacked him in the chest, “that’s for keeping this from me and doing all this,” and leaning on her tip toes she kissed him deeply, “and that’s doing for all this”

When her lips left his, she wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the feel of him, his scent. All things aside, she loved having this moment with him. “That’s the point of a surprise date. For it to be a surprise, what I supposed to do? Tell you. You’re just mad that everyone else was in on it except you.” She was, but she wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“Let me guess, the 118 knows, too.”

“Yeah, they know where I am and what I’m doing. Hen’s in charge while I snuck away to meet you.” He grabbed her chin and brought her lips up to meet his, “now can we eat?”

Wordlessly, she picked a side of the table and he sat across her. She removed the cover from the dish and was assaulted by the delicious smells underneath. She had to admit she was impressed by the number of hoops he went through to make this happen. Not even giving away a hint as to what he was planning. She loved him for it.

“I love you. Thank you for this.”

“I love you, too. We’ve barely seen each other or spent much alone time together these past few months . It’s Valentine’s Day, there was no way I wasn't going this whole day without seeing you again.”

“You make this whole scheme sound so simple.”

“It was. I wanted to spend time with you today. I was going to to make that happen, schedules and even a couple regulations be damned. Simple as that.” Bobby told her with conviction.

She let the air of finality be just that as she shifted the conversation and just focused on being in the moment with him. These 45 minutes were going to be over sooner than either of them wanted.

#bathena #athena grant #bobby nash #bobby x athena #911 #prompt fill #prompt response #fanfic writing hell #krl912 #fanfic asks #idk how i feel this #but its finished #i hope you like it

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5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

Good Morning, Darkest Secrets

For @specialagentrin because goddammit, she has inspired me to write so much fic recently. It isn’t even funny. I loveeeeeeee youuuuuuuuuu

RATING T RELATIONSHIPS Dean/Cas, Sam/Cas FANDOM Supernatural Words 2,715 Comments/Warnings angst, pining, unrequited love (I’ll let you see which side), tw: suicidal thoughts/actions/ideation, depression, tw: abuse

***

A boy climbs through his window. “Ow!” he says when he hits the floor.

Dean sits up in bed and looks at him. “Who are you?” he asks. The boy sits up.

“Huh,” he says instead of answering, peering at Dean’s face in the dark. “I must have overshot. I’m looking for Sam Winchester.”

Dean closes his eyes in exasperation. “Wrong bedroom,” he manages. “Sammy’s down the hall. Why are you breaking into our house?”

The kid shrugs. “Felt like it. Which door?”

Dean watches him. He moves weird, kinda like Sam and Dean themselves do, and Dean wonders what that means. He’s almost got it, it’s on the tip of his tongue-

“First on your right. If he hits you, I wasn’t here.”

The kid glances over his shoulder and flashes Dean a grin that makes his knees weak. “I’ll remember that.”

Dean is ten years old.

The boy’s name is Castiel. He’s in Sam’s class. He’s seven. (Sam is eight.)

Dean learns all of this the next morning at breakfast, after his dad’s yelling wakes him up. Something about Sam having a boy in his bed and how John refuses to let his sons be homos. Whatever that means.

Mary calms him down with a soft voice and a hand on his arm and invites Castiel to breakfast. Dean’s eyes follow this mysterious new boy the whole way down the stairs.

Castiel’s shoulders still shift awkwardly under his coat (which Dean can see in the light of day is a trench coat. He didn’t know those came small enough for seven-year-olds) and Dean still burns to find out why that looks so familiar. But he refrains.

There are things he can’t blurt out at the breakfast table.

Mary gives Castiel three slices of toast and almost half their jam. He stares at it with wide eyes for almost thirty seconds. “It’s food,” Dean says helpfully. “You eat it. Are you okay?”

Castiel looks up at him with blue eyes free of guile or blame. “Are you sure you can spare this much?” he asks of the entire room. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude, nobody talks like that,” Dean tells him, laughing. Mary smacks the back of his head.

“Yes, of course we can. I wouldn’t give it to you if we couldn’t scrape by.”

Castiel looks down at his plate in shame. “This is more food than I’ve gotten at one meal in three years.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. “No way.”

Castiel turns red and takes a bite of his toast. No one says anything else. Mary tells Dean off later for being rude and insensitive.

Dean is still fascinated.

Castiel is new in town, but he stays for a long time. He starts coming home from school with Sam every day. They’re obviously best friends.

Dean is… Dean is jealous.

Of Sam.

That’s never happened before.

He hangs out in the same room as them a lot of the time, but they are always very obviously hanging out with each other. He’s just the weird big brother who’s also there.

And Cas – Dean has no idea when he became ‘Cas’ – seems to avoid him at all costs, if he can. Dean tries not to push. He just doesn’t know why Cas is so uncomfortable around him. But it doesn’t matter, because it goes away after a few months. By July, they’re all hanging out together, playing Mario Kart and marathoning Star Wars.

But Dean is still jealous.

Dean’s a freshman when Sam starts middle school. He and Cas have three of six classes together, and Cas comes over to study every chance he gets. Dean stopped being jealous of Sammy around the end of seventh grade, but he thinks he’ll always be bitter that Cas seems to prefer Sam to him.

Especially at night, when he opens the little box that he keeps locked in the back of his mind. It sits on a shelf, gathering dust, and inside are all the feelings, the thoughts, the little things Dean catalogued in those first two years. Dean shoved them all in their when he realized what it was, and he never lets them out, except when he’s miserable and alone.

He’s spent the last two years since then praying that it would go away. He needs it to go away. He can’t be like this, he can’t be a freak, he can’t be that thing that his father was so scared of when Dean was just ten years old. He can’t.

He is.

One day, he lays on the floor of Sam’s room with his giant-ass AP World History textbook wide open on his face when Sam says it.

“I kissed Cas today.”

Sam is on his bed, on his stomach, flipping through his Alg-one notebook, trying to make sense of the notes he took in class. He says it nonchalantly, out of the blue, and Dean almost does a spit take.

“Um.” Dean’s voice is muffled by the college ruled pages above him. He sits up and closes the book. “You did what now?” he asks incredulously.

Sam looks at him evenly. His hair is a little bit too long – he’s been growing it out this year. Dean tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. “I kissed him,” he repeats.

There’s a pause, then Dean says, “well, what happened?”

Sam scoffs. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you! Nothing happened. I liked a guy, I kissed him, he kissed back, end of story.”

“He kissed back?” Dean doesn’t know why he can’t seem to process any of the information that’s being thrown at him. (That’s a lie; it’s because he’s so fucking blindsided by all of this that he can barely register Sammy likes guys, let alone Sammy likes the guy that I like or the guy that I like likes Sammy back.) “So what now? Are you like… boyfriends?”

Sam shrugs. “We haven’t gotten that far. It was at lunch break and we haven’t seen each other since.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t you have fifth together?”

“Yeah, we sit on opposite sides of the room and we were doing a lab today so we couldn’t even email back and forth like we usually do in that class.”

Dean lets out a whoosh of air and collapses back onto the floor. “Alright then. Well, good luck.” He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say.

Sam makes a derisive noise. “Right. Thanks, Dean.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Sam flips him off without looking away from his notes. “Exactly, jerk.”

Dean is miserable now.

They are boyfriends.

Dean discovers this six days later. It’s Tuesday, which is a cursed day in his opinion, because it’s the day he dies every week. (Tuesdays are inspection day. He has to wear his uniform into school and he’s not allowed to touch anybody or wear a hat.) And now it’s more cursed because it will forever be the day that Castiel Novak told him he was dating his brother immediately after spilling iced coffee on him.

“Okay, asshole, it is on,” Dean snarls, only kind of playing. “This is my ROTC uniform. How fuckin’ dare you.”

Cas just laughs when Dean shoves him. “Dean, I apologized. I’ll get it dry cleaned for you.”

Dean grumbles as he wads up napkins and dabs at it. “You don’t have the money for that,” he says finally. “I’ll do it myself.”

Cas closes his mouth, then opens it again to say, “are you going to kill me if I date your brother?”

Dean’s head snaps up. “Why would I kill you?”

Cas can’t meet his eyes. “Well, you’re incredibly protective of him, and when I first moved here, you didn’t seem to… like me very much.”

Dean scoffs. “Fuck me,” he sings under his breath. “Nah, man, you’re great. I’m just a dick like that. But don’t worry about it, okay? No, go ahead and date Sam. He’s been crushing on you for like, ever.”

Cas looks incredibly relieved. “Great,” he says quietly. “Good. Thank you.”

Dean just nods his acknowledgment and waves Cas away. He needs to hit the road in the next fifteen minutes if he’s gonna get to the school on time, and Cas and Sam have to catch their bus.

(Dean fails his inspection that day.)

Cas is a freshman when Dean finally finds out why he moves funny.

Dean is a junior, and he’s about .3 GPA away from dropping out of high school, and he goes to pick Cas up one day because he is the one chaperoning Cas and Sam’s dates. Because their parents don’t even know Sam’s gay.

(Bi? He mighta said he was bi. Dean really has no idea, all his tiny brain has room for is Sam likes Cas.)

He walks into Cas’s house and the first thing he hears is the wet smack of flesh on flesh. The second thing he hears is something thwip-ing through the air. The third thing he hears is crying. The fourth thing he hears is Cas’s voice, and Cas is begging.

“Please stop,” he cries. “Please, Luci, I’ll do anything, please! Just stop!”

Dean pushes the door open and there are three boys inside it. One looks about a year older than Dean, with pale hair and evil-looking eyes. One is Castiel, who looks terrified, like a deer in headlights as he stares wide-eyed at Dean. And one is shorter, sandier, unconscious, and bleeding.

“Did you kill him?” he demands the tall one. He assumes this is Luci, especially considering the bloody gashes on Cas’s exposed back – holy shit, Cas isn’t wearing a shirt and Dean has only just registered that – that match the bloody metal end of the belt Luci’s holding.

Cas kneels, in Luci’s moment of distraction, to press two fingers to the short one’s throat. “He’s alive,” he whispers, and his voice wavers and breaks. Dean glares at the tall guy.

“Get the hell out of here,” he commands. Luci looks confused and defiant but leaves the room. Dean pulls out his phone and dials 911.

“Who was that?” he asks when they’re riding in the back of an ambulance. Cas doesn’t look at him.

“One of the twins, the two oldest. Lucifer. He likes to hurt the rest of us. He does it for sport.”

Dean purses his lips. “Right,” he whispers. “I should’ve known.”

Cas does look at him then. “Why should you have known?”

Dean meets his eyes with sorrow. “Cause I’m an abuse victim too.”

Somehow, Sam and Cas are still going strong by their sophomore year, celebrating 3 years in October. On their anniversary (the fourth), Cas stands outside of their house with a big sign. Dean sees him through the open front door.

He stands in the doorway to read it. It says “HOMECOMING?” Dean grins.

“Yeah!” he shouts. Cas shakes his head, laughing.

Tell Sam, he mouths. Dean turns his head and shouts up the stairs.

“Sammy, I’m taking your boyfriend to homecoming!”

“Whatever, jerk!” Sam yells back.

“You won’t be saying that when we’re doin’ it in a limo, bitch!” Dean declares, then drops a wink at Cas and disappears back into the house.

Sam still seems happy by junior year. Dean has long since dropped out by now and is working part-time with their uncle Bobby. He never sees Cas anymore, and that’s probably for the better, considering that every time he does, he is in desperate need of a cold shower.

Sam still raves about him obliviously, and Dean still listens with a straight face – a talent he’s mastered after years of hiding his own stupid bullshit. Dean doesn’t let on. He’s gotten very, very good at not letting on.

He breaks down, once, and Sam finds him. It’s embarrassing and humiliating, and it’s made more so by the fact that he can’t even explain to his brother why he’s crying on the floor of the bathroom. Sam doesn’t seem to care, though. He just grabs Dean and pulls him close to his chest and doesn’t let him go for a very, very long time.

Dean hates everything.

Dean hates how amazing his little brother is. Sam is such a great person, and he deserves the kind of happiness he’s found with Cas. They’ve been together for six years and they’re both so much happier than they were before. Dean’s seen the change happen firsthand.

He hates how much he resents it. He hates how much he wishes he could ruin it for them. He hates how terrible a person he is, for wanting to destroy this beautiful thing that Sam managed to create for himself out of the ashes of their old life.

He hates himself.

Dean has Castiel’s phone number. He’s used it a grand total of once.

He uses it now.

You and Sam deserve each other is all his message says. It doesn’t say any of the other hundreds of things he wants it to say. It doesn’t say that Dean’s a coward. It doesn’t say that Dean is a terrible person who doesn’t deserve Cas’s friendship. It doesn’t say that Dean hopes Cas and Sam are happy together. It doesn’t say that Dean hopes everyone’s happier without him.

It doesn’t say that if all goes well, Dean will be dead before Cas reads that text message.

He almost jumps out the fourth-story window. He manages to stop himself.

He spends the night in the hospital with a pump in his stomach.

Sam is the only family member who waits with him.

Shit hits the fan when Sam comes home for Christmas break. He’s been off at Stanford for three months – and Cas with him, because Cas swore to follow Sam anywhere – and they both come home for two weeks in the end of December.

Mom’s dead; she killed herself eighteen months ago. Dad was killed in a drunk driving crash. Sam and Dean are all alone, just the two of them and Cas and uncle Bobby.

Bobby pays for the house, the upkeep, the water and electric; he takes care of everything so that Dean can keep living there, in Lawrence, in a huge fucking house that he doesn’t need, all on his own.

He should just sell the place, move to Palo Alto to be near his brother, and get a tiny apartment for less than a thousand dollars a month if he can hack it.

He doesn’t sell it because it’s the last place their mom was alive.

Sam and Cas come home and they all get a tree together. They decorate it on the nineteenth. On the twenty-second, Sam asks Dean why he’s been avoiding them all break.

“I’m not avoiding you guys,” Dean denies, even though he is.

“Then why won’t you look at me? Why haven’t you said more than five words to Cas since we’ve been here? Why do you spend all your time holed up in your room?”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to shrug it off, but then Sam says something that cuts deep.

“Do you still not approve of me dating him?”

Dean freezes.

“What?”

Sam’s face looks broken. “He’s tried so hard to win you over, to make you like him. Do you still hate him that much?”

Dean can’t hold it in anymore. He can’t.

“No, I don’t!” he screams. “I never hated him! He’s my best friend, man, and I care about him as much as you do! But no, I don’t approve of you dating him.”

“Why not?” Sam asks. His cheeks are glistening and his face is broken. His eyes look hopeless.

“Because I’m in love with your boyfriend, Sammy!” Dean yells.

There’s silence for fourteen seconds before someone speaks.

“I should leave.”

Dean glances around. Cas is standing in the doorway. He presses his eyes closed.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he whimpers.

“Yeah, well, I did,” Cas replies. He pushes past Dean and leaves the front door open when he walks through it. Sam shoots Dean a look and follows him.

As they walk away from him, Dean thinks he’s just ruined the only thing he had left that was actually important to him.

Good going, Dean.

#destiel #sastiel #deansil writes #supernatural au

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curiousdamage · 5 years

Text

The Thin Gold Line: Back of a Cop Car

Day 31 of writing challenge (I somehow skipped 14 last time.) Inspired by a whump fic prompt of a victim dying, locked in the back of a car at an old gas station.

Fandom: Cagney and Lacey

I own nothing.

Warning: Violence described.

Isbecki bites off more than he can chew when he answers a dangerous call alone.

Victor held his hand against the stab wound in his stomach. Little good it was doing, judging by the amount of blood slipping through his fingers. He should just move his hand and bleed to death quicker, that is, if the pain in his head didn't do him in first. No one was going to reach him.

The 911 call had been bogus. He'd caught the call for a 'burglary in progress' at the old gas station, even though he was technically off duty, as it was just a block off his usual route home. He had known something was wrong as soon as he’d pulled up. This place wasn’t just old. It was abandoned. Still, he'd gotten out and approached the building with caution. Might have been a mugging, or worse, misreported by a passerby. Could be still in progress, or an injured victim still around.

He spun on his heels when he'd heard the woman screaming behind him. Before he could decipher exactly where the scream had come from, he felt as though his head had been split open as someone hit him from behind with what felt like a crowbar. He’d gone down hard and had been surrounded by five or six young men, hitting, kicking, and punching him until he couldn't even try to get up. Then they had dragged him over to his car and thrown him in the backseat, but not before one of them gave him a parting gift of a switchblade to the gut, then slammed the door essentially trapping him there to bleed to death. Spots were dancing in front of his eyes as he heard the radio crackle to life.

"522 to base, 522 check in…,” the tinny voice called out.

He'd love to. He slammed a weak fist against the thin piece of plexiglass separating the front seat from the back. They had been installed in all the undercover cars after a Detective from the 10th had been choked out by a perp with his handcuffs. Though even without it, he wasn’t sure he'd have the strength to haul himself over the seat to answer.

Funny that something designed to save his life was going to aid in ending it.

"522, are you code 4?" the voice rang out again.

No, he wasn't Code 4. He wasn't all good. He was dying. He kicked, uselessly at the Plexiglass, then groaned, eye's wide with the pain that caused. Stupid.

Two calls. Usually, after a third unanswered call, they sent marked cars to your last known location, but not for him. He'd ignored too many well checks when he'd thought himself "too busy'. Hadn't Jolene just been on his ass about that two days before?

Jolene.

Now he wished he’d have stopped by her office one more time before leaving and given her a real goodbye instead of just stuffing a dirty note in her jacket pocket as he'd signed out for the day. Of course, he hadn't thought it was a real goodbye. He had thought he would be seeing her in an hour when she got off work and came over to his place to eat Chinese take-out and watch the Knicks game on television.

In the three years since she’d moved to New York, she'd become one of his best friends. Okay, so she had questionable taste in music preferring Simon and Garfunkel to Barry Manilow, that is when she wasn't listening to that God-awful country junk, but she was always up to catch a Mets or Knicks game from the cheap seats, drinking bad beer and splitting nachos. Or all for spending an afternoon in a dark theater watching an old John Wayne movie.

Of course, this meant he’d spent his fair share of time going to Broadway plays, sappy romance movies, and rip off Urban Cowboy dance clubs. Hell, he had even learned to two-step when he’d realized that he really didn't like those wannabe cowboys pawing at her while he sat at the bar talking to her friend, Analise.

Then about six months ago everything had changed. They had gone to the Policemen's Ball together. They’d had a great time, drinking, laughing, and doing their damnedest to show up Marcus and Claudia on the dance floor.

He’d walked her to her door, like always since she didn’t live in the best building since moving out of Analise’s Park Avenue penthouse. Maybe they had been a little drunk, or maybe they'd just needed that excuse if things didn't work out, but when she'd dropped her keys, they'd both reached for them bumping heads instead. Laughing, they'd stood up, both with a hand to their head. Looking into each other's eyes, the laughter had died, and they'd reached for each other, kissing as though they had invented it.

When he'd woke up in her bed the next morning, he'd worried that he'd ruined everything. Hadn't he turned Christine down for that very reason? Except it wasn't the same. Christine had wanted validation and an escape. Jolene had wanted him.

Still, she'd been adamant that she didn't date cops. He hadn't been sure she would feel the same in the harsh morning sun as she had slightly tipsy the night before. He knew he hadn't needed to worry when she’d woken up and smiled at him.

No one at the station knew yet, well except Petrie, who had bumped into them out on a date and still hadn't gotten it until Claudia had pointed out that they were intruding and pulled Marcus away. It was just as well. He never could keep anything from his partner.

“522 report to base." The voice was getting more insistent.

He shook his head and stared at the roof of the beat-up old car. How ironic. Hadn't Jo just said this very thing was going to happen?

When he'd gotten to work two days before and saw the note on his desk, summoning him to the Dispatch Director's office, he’d grinned and thrown a suggestive look at Petrie as he'd passed his desk.

“Yeah,” Petrie laughed. “She was here at four to pull the tapes from this weekend. You may not be so happy when you get back there.”

“Nah, it’ll be cool.” He’d encouraged Jolene to go after the Director’s job when Thomas had retired the year before knowing she’d be perfect for it with her background and experience. She’d been worried about others who had been there longer thinking she was stepping on their toes, but he knew that most of the dispatchers were either retired patrolmen who still wanted to be involved or people just looking for extra income or the insurance. No one who wanted the responsibility of running the department.

And she was great if a little too stuck on protocols that Thomas had ignored. Like well-checks.

She didn’t look in the mood to appreciate his humor or innuendos right then, so he just took the seat across from her desk.

“How did it go this morning? Was the dispatcher rude?” He asked, knowing that the reason she’d come in so early was that one of her dispatchers had been accused of behaving improperly during a 911 call and she had to review the tapes to see if he had been before writing him up.

She yawned and shook her head. “From the standpoint of a dispatcher, no. He was a little brusque as he explained the limitations of just what Officers could do if he sent them out, but he wasn’t rude or lying. But, if I was a Mom whose 18-year-old daughter just ran off with a 48-year-old man, I’m not sure how I would take news I didn’t want to hear either. I’m not going to write him up, but he is going to have to do some sensitivity training which means I do too.”

“Sorry, Babe.”

“That’s not why I called you in here.” She walked around and sat on the corner of her desk. “I had to listen to the tapes for almost the whole weekend. Victor, you ignored four well check calls. Not answered them late, just flat out ignored them. We rolled marked units four times and you were fine. That’s four times they could have been dealing with real problems.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would you have rather that I wasn’t okay? I was busy. I can’t always stop to answer the radio. Half the time I don’t even have one. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not talking about when you are undercover,” she replied, trying to keep her temper under control. “I’m talking about when you are just on the street. Look, I know you are used to wearing a wire and not breaking your flow, but when you aren’t, you must answer the calls. It’s the only way we know you are okay and don’t need back up. There are eight thousand police officers in this city and five hundred and seventy of them work in this building alone and my six dispatchers have to keep up with every one of them. We don’t have time to chase around those of you who think we’re a joke!”

“I don’t think you’re a joke,” he replied.

“Could have fooled me,” she shot back. “I don’t have them doing well check calls because I want to be a pain in the ass, or I want to make sure they’re awake. I do it because…, because I want every one of those five hundred and seventy officers to make it home.” She stopped and covered her face with her hands before whispering, “Especially you.” She wiped at her eyes before looking back up, her earlier anger abated. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…, I’m scared that one day you won’t answer because you really need help, but no one will pay any attention because they’re used to you not answering and I don’t…, I can’t…,” she stopped again. She got up from the desk and turned her back to him.

Victor stood up and went over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her temple. “I’m sorry, Baby. I guess I didn’t realize how important it was. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Well, you better. Next time I’ll have to write you up,” she sniffled, looking up at him and smiling.

“Hmm…, you know, it was kind of hot when you were yelling at me. Might be worth getting written up for to get yelled at again,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

“Idiot,” she laughed, pushing him away. “Come to my place tonight. I’ll yell at you all you want, and it won’t have to go in your personnel file.”

“522 to base, come in 522,” the voice called again.

He didn’t realize that day would be just two days later.

“Miss Baker?” A new woman named Nannette stopped her as she was getting her jacket to leave.

“Yes, Nannette?” She replied, distractedly, as she pulled the note out of her pocket, blushing as red as her hair when she read it. That man was truly twisted.

“Detective Isbecki answered at burglary in progress call five minutes ago and he isn’t answering the well checks. Do you want me to keep trying or just send out back up?” Nanette asked.

“Wait. You didn’t send back up to start with? You always send back up with ‘in progress’ calls. Get on it,” Jolene scolded. She shoved the note back in her pocket and rushed to an empty console.

“Isbecki, call base. Isbecki…,” No, they weren’t supposed to use real names over the radio and maybe she was a little more panicked than she should be, but a sick feeling had settled into the pit of her stomach. No way was Victor just not answering after the talk they’d had. He’d sworn he wasn’t going to do that anymore. Something was wrong. She knew it. “Victor! Please answer me! Victor! Victor!” She waited for maybe another two seconds, instead of minutes like she was supposed to before the panic got the best of her and she initiated an ‘Officer Down’ code. If she was wrong, 1PP would have her ass, but if she wasn’t, he could already be…, No. She wasn’t going to think like that.

Victor was fading in and out of consciousness when he heard Jolene call his name. First, Isbecki, then Victor. Over and over. He had to be confused. No way she would use his real name on the radio. Wasn’t confusion a bad sign when you were wounded? He couldn’t remember anymore. He closed his eyes, his hand falling away from the wound in his stomach. It didn’t matter anymore. No way would anyone find him in time.

“Victor! Stay with us! Help is on the way!” Jolene called out again, rousing him from the stupor he was falling into.

Why did she sound so scared? Jo never got rattled. He was okay. Everything was fine. He wasn’t even in that much pain anymore.

“Victor!”

He wanted to let her know it was okay. He was fine. Even his head wasn’t aching anymore. It was going to be fine. “Jolene, Baby.” His voice came out barely above a whisper before the world went black around him.

“Victor! Victor!”

He felt someone slapping his cheeks, trying to wake him. But it wasn’t Jolene calling his name this time. It was Marcus.

“Victor! Victor! Come on, Man! You can do it. You can’t go out like this,” Marcus said, still slapping him.

“Jolene,” he said, again, trying to open his eyes. The world spun as he tried to make his eyes focus and he was sure he was going to puke. He was still in his car, but now Marcus was beside him, holding pressure against his stab wound with one hand and trying to bring him around with the other.

“That’s it,” Marcus said, relief breaking in his voice. “That’s it. Stay with me, Partner. The ambulance is almost here. CHRIS! MARY BETH! WE GOT HIM BACK,” he yelled outside the car. “Get that ambulance here!”

Victor wanted to tell him to shut it, the pain in his head slamming him back into consciousness as Cagney slung open the other door.

“Ambulance is two minutes out,” she reported. “Hang on, Victor. We got you now. Just hang on.”

The abandoned building was bathed in red and blue lights as the paramedics removed him from the car, but Victor barely noticed as he slipped from consciousness again, the pain of being moved too much to handle.

As soon as the paramedics had taken over for Marcus, he’d opened the front door of the car and grabbed Victor’s radio mic from its hook.

“We got him, Jolene. We got him.”

“Thank God,” she whispered before dropping the mic. “Thank you, God.” Then she lost her lunch in the nearest wastebasket. She’d never been that scared in her life.

#writing challenge #cagney and lacey #Isbecki

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veneataur · 7 years

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Here’s the next Whumptober fic. It’s a long one. It just got away from me as I was searching for an appropriate ending. In case there’s confusion, the temperatures are in Fahrenheit. My version of the modern Musketeers is set in Chicago because I’m familiar with the area.

Prompt: Sleep deprivation

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Title: Missed Signals

Athos wishes he’d seen the signs earlier. He really should’ve known that Aramis was in trouble. If he had, then Porthos wouldn’t be fighting for his life. And Aramis, he wouldn’t be missing. It means they have to divide themselves and as much as Athos wants to be at Porthos’ bedside, he’s left d’Artagnan to that task. The young man was angry when told to stay with Porthos and Athos had left without explanation. d’Artagnan would figure it out and he didn’t have time to waste on tending to hurt feelings.

Athos and Treville have split up. They both know some of Aramis’ old haunts when he lived on the streets. They hope that he is in one of those.

It’s a hot day, one of the hottest of the year. The air temperature is easily 100 and with the humidity, it’s closer to 110. There are warnings out to stay inside, in air conditioning and drink plenty of water. It’s the worst kind of day for Aramis. And there has been a string of them. Nearly a week in total of heat warnings and advisories coupled with no rain for even longer. When a good breeze gets going, it’s hot, stifling, and it takes up the dust and Athos wonders how he could have missed the haunted look in Aramis’ eyes. That look that signified he was seconds from a flashback and clearly not capable of watching Porthos’ back.

Athos is in the rough area of the city, where crime is common and law enforcement is scarce unless there’s a sudden need to cordon off a crime scene. He’s careful with each of his movements, watching for any signs of danger. He hopes his determined look and severe demeanor will scare anyone away but he knows that he sticks out worse than a sore thumb. He is a prime target for a mugging at the very least. But worse, he knows, Aramis is blaming himself. Each second they can’t find him is another second Aramis can convince himself they’re better off away from him.

He looks down every alleyway, stirring up anything along his path from people to animals to trash but the waning sunlight is little help. No part of an alley is left untouched. He knows Aramis too well by now. They’ll be able to find him, but it won’t be easy.

Aramis has a good few hours on them already. He’d stuck around after Porthos was shot three times in the back, doing whatever he could to keep the blood in Porthos and keep his brother alive. But it hadn’t been Aramis really who was there. The younger man was running on autopilot, his body doing everything he had to until his mind saw that Porthos was being taken care of and then he ran, hands dripping blood on the sidewalk as he fled. Athos felt helpless, watched as he lost grips on his two best friends, hoping that he could get them back.

They’d immediately called the police to be on the lookout. It was little surprise that out of all of the Musketeers, Aramis was the favorite of the police. But Athos knows that he and Treville would have the best luck in finding him and bringing him back in safely.

They don’t find him on the first day. Athos only goes home because Treville threatens to throw him in the task force jail until he rests for eight hours. After exactly eight hours of the most restless sleep he’s ever gotten, he’s out the next day after checking on Porthos. By seven he and Treville are back on the streets and it’s even hotter than the day before. It barely dropped below 90 during the night and the humidity is worse. If the forecasters are right, they’re in for a good storm this evening.

Hours into his search, sometime in the afternoon, he is hot and sweaty. His water is nearly gone. He’s long ditched his dress shirt, enjoying the coolness of the sweat on his undershirt whenever a breeze kicks in.

Behind a pile of crates, wedged in a small opening he finds Aramis. He doesn’t acknowledge Athos’ arrival, which is no surprise as he looks just short of full-blown heat stroke. His skin is red and dangerously dry. It only serves to highlight the dark circles under his eyes that Athos should’ve seen this week. Aramis doesn’t sleep in this weather. Instead, he spends his hours on watch, carefully positioned in his bed to see the door leading to the hallway, the closet door, and the windows. It is the one time they regret him taking the room with the most windows. There are too many potential entry points in his room for his mind to rest. If they’d been paying attention, they’d’ve pulled him into one of their rooms like before, using their presence as a calming influence on Aramis.

“’Mis,” he calls out gently. He doesn’t know if Aramis has any weapons on hand and doesn’t know how he’ll react.

Aramis rolls his head against the brick wall and opens fevered, exhausted, empty eyes to look at him. Athos hasn’t seen that look on him since they first met in Treville’s den, back when Aramis had hit what they thought was rock bottom.

“Hey, you here?”

Aramis licks his dry lips and looks away.

“Porthos is still alive. It was touch and go last night, but he woke up. He’s going to be fine.”

Aramis closes his eyes.

Athos doesn’t try to speak again. He takes out his phone and sits next to Aramis. Even though Aramis is burning up, he makes sure that part of him is touching Aramis. The effect isn’t dramatic, but Athos can feel a slight lessening of tension.

His first call is to 911. Aramis won’t respond well to the paramedics, but he needs medical attention. His second call is to Treville.

“I found him,” he says.

“Where?”

“The alley behind the old warehouse that was recently condemned.”

“I’m on my way.”

“You may just want to meet us at the hospital.”

“How bad?”

“Heat stroke, likely. Definitely exhaustion. He hasn’t said anything. I’m not even sure he’s completely here.” Athos examines Aramis visually, trying to take note of any injuries. There’s blood but he’s doubtful that’s his.

“Did you tell him?”

“Yes, I told him Porthos will be fine, but he’s too far into his mind. I can’t get him out right now.”

“The heat isn’t helping with that, I’m sure,” Treville says.

“Nor the lack of sleep. I don’t think he’s slept in the last three days and before that it can’t have been much. I don’t know how we missed it.” He’s forced to calm himself when his agitation sets Aramis off. The younger man squirms and makes a keening noise until Athos forces himself to take a couple calming breaths.

“Now’s not the time to question ourselves. Let’s get him on the mend physically, then we’ll work on the mental.”

“I know, I know,” Athos says. “I’m going to try to get them to take him to the same hospital. We’re far away, but he knows them there and they know him.”

“I’ll put a call in.” When Treville hangs up, Athos finds he’s very grateful that Treville cares so much about his men, especially Aramis. Their captain doesn’t play favorites, but he knows that Aramis is more a son to Treville than either will admit.

Aramis comes to life when the paramedics try to get him on the gurney. He finds the strength to fight them, calling out in a language Athos doesn’t understand but recognizes. Aramis is in the middle of a flashback and thinks himself in Afghanistan.

Athos doesn’t hesitate to push past the paramedics. He begins speaking Spanish. His accent is terrible. Aramis always teases him about it, but he knows that Spanish is the one language that seeps through Aramis’ flashbacks. It takes time and patience. Athos repeats the same phrases, interrupting the mantra momentarily to tell the paramedics in English what is happening.

“’thos?” Aramis’ voice is thick from dehydration and weak, but it’s crystal clear to Athos.

“’Mis?”

“’thos.” Aramis stumbles but this time Athos makes sure he is there to catch him before he can fall. He sets him on the gurney, coaxing him in Spanish to put his feet up and lay back so the paramedics can help him. When Aramis relaxes and leans back against the gurney, Athos signals to the paramedics they can approach.

“Carl, go get the drug box,” Tom says.

“You’re not sedating him,” Athos says. He still has a hand on Aramis’ shoulder and is holding onto one of Aramis’ hands with his other. Unsurprisingly, Aramis tenses again but tellingly, he doesn’t dart away.

“We need to be able to treat him,” Tom explains.

“And you can.” Athos keeps his voice steady and firm. “I will be here with him every second and you will explain clearly everything you do. He’s a veteran and he has PTSD.”

“He’s dangerous.”

“Only if you’re the enemy.”

Tom gives him a wary look, looking down at Aramis, who is surprisingly calm.

“Are you really refusing to treat a veteran? He can’t help what he’s dealing with. You even try to drug him and you’ll not only set him off but you’ll have to go through me first.” Athos takes a careful half step forward, positioning himself so that he stands protectively above Aramis.

That gets Tom’s attention. His eyes go wide and he looks at Carl, who sets the drug box back in the ambulance. Athos has to remind them occasionally to explain what they’re doing but soon they have Aramis loaded up and ready to go.

Not once, not in the ambulance, not in the ER, not on the way up to Aramis’ own room does Athos let go of Aramis. Not even when Aramis passes out in the ambulance nor when Athos has to argue with Tom and Carl again about the hospital to go to. Treville’s command is what finally gets them to listen.

Each time Aramis surfaces, fever-eyed, exhausted, and weary, Athos makes sure that Aramis sees and feels him there. It takes a few days before he’s awake for anything longer than a few bleary-eyed minutes at a time. Still, Athos is sure to update him on Porthos, who is still is in a step-down ICU until his chest tube comes out.

Even more, Athos always tells him where and when he is. The longer Aramis lies awake, the more Athos talks. He describes the room and tells him about how the others are doing, even though it’s the same each time.

Then when Aramis rolls his head away, staring at the wall instead of Athos, he talks about the elephant in the room.

“Porthos doesn’t blame you. None of us do.”

Aramis is silent.

“We should’ve seen this coming. With the weather and how tired you were looking. We should’ve seen it coming and done something.”

Still silence.

“I’m sorry, Aramis.”

“Why.” The voice is raspy. “I do… don’t be…long ‘ere.” Aramis forces himself to speak with the dry throat even though the words scratch. He does take a small sip of water when Athos offers it, but nothing more.

“Of course you do, you fool.” Porthos’ voice surprises them both. Especially when it’s not Porthos standing in the doorway, but Treville holding his phone up. Porthos, a couple floors up, is on the screen. He’s tired and clearly in pain, but he’s doing his best to hide it.

“I almost got you killed.”

“It could’ve happened to anyone of us. We’ve been running ragged this month. Anyone of us could’ve missed that shooter.”

“But it was me,” Aramis’ voice cracks, his emotions are close to the surface and tears ready to fall. “It was me and my flashbacks. I don’t deserve to be a Musketeer.”

“Yes, you do, but I know you won’t believe that right now.” Porthos sighs, hiding the wince when it pulls on his wounds. “Look, the PTSD, the flashbacks, they don’t make you weak. You’re stronger because of what you have to deal with daily and you still keep going. And know that you’ll never be alone. We’ll always be there, to listen and help as much as we can. Just talk to us, ‘Mis. Okay?”

Aramis is ready to say something when Porthos’ doctor says they need to finish up.

“Talk to us, ‘Mis. Okay?” Porthos repeats the plea.

Aramis nods. Then the call is done.

“He’s right,” Treville says. “You’ll always have a place with the Musketeers. But please, talk to us. We’re here for you, as much as we can understand.”

Again, Aramis nods. He doesn’t trust his voice.

“I’m giving you a week off once you’re released from the doctor’s care, then you’ll be on half days until you get everything under control again. You can spend the day at the office, but you’re only on duty for half of the day,” Treville adds quickly when Aramis’ face takes on a downcast look. He knows that solitude is Aramis’ worst enemy.

“Now, get some rest. Both of you. I’ll see about when you can go up to see Porthos.” They all know that nothing is really resolved, not for the long term. For the moment though, Aramis is at ease. It might be the exhaustion creeping back in or that he’s so defeated he’s willing to grasp onto any thread, but they’ll take it. And work daily to help him rebuild his defenses.

#bbc the musketeers #aramis #athos #porthos #treville #d'artagnan #modernAU #fan fiction #whumptober

9 notes · View notes