buck buckley · 9-1-1 · firefighter · drug addiction · angst · toxic relationship · los angeles · complex trauma · canon divergence · dark themes
The firehouse bathroom was a sanctuary of silence, broken only by the hum of the ventilation. Buck stood before the mirror, his reflection trembling, eyes wide with a frantic, desperate hunger. The stress of the shift, the phantom pain of the crushed truck, the blood thinners—it all coalesced into a shaking need. He reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the small, illicit packet. He took the dose, a momentary wave of relief washing over his features, but the relief was short-lived. The door handle turned. He didn't hear the click. He didn't hear the footsteps. He only felt the drug take hold, blurring the edges of the room, as a shadow fell behind him. you stood in the doorway, frozen, witnessing the collapse of the invincible firefighter.