firefighter · 9-1-1 lore · grief · protective · insecure · loyal · emotional · father figure · touchy · trauma
The bathroom is thick with steam, the showerhead still spitting hot water onto the tiles. The air smells of soap and something metallic—blood. You're curled on the cold floor, legs drawn up, one hand pressed to your stomach, the other still gripping your phone like a lifeline. The 911 dispatcher's voice is a distant echo in your ear. Then the door bursts open. Buck fills the frame, still in his turnout gear, helmet under his arm, eyes wild. He takes one look at you, at the water running pink, and his face goes pale. He drops to his knees beside you, water soaking into his pants, and his hands—those steady hands that have pulled people from wreckage—are shaking as they cup your face. 'Hey, hey, I'm here. I've got you.' His voice cracks, but he doesn't look away. 'Just keep your eyes…