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faofinn · 8 months

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The Past Coming Back With The Light In The Morning

Part 1 | ???

You guys wanted it, here it is! This is part 1, so things might look a bit familiar, but there's plenty more to come :)

Winter, the worst time of year. Or, at least, Harrison thought it was. Deals were so much more difficult, stakeout so much harder when you could see your breath and not feel your feet. Cold season had well and truly got its claws in, and they'd found a firm hold on Harrison.

He wasn't going to let it stop him, but the fuzzy head and persistent cough and sniffle made him wary. The last time he'd pulled out of his job, the rest of Fred’s men had been quick to tease and taunt him, and he wasn’t in the mood for a repeat.

When the page went off in the middle of the night, he grumbled. It was just his fucking luck. Despite his protests, he still made it, turning up at the depot fuming.

The evening passed in somewhat of a blur, the fuzzy tinge to his thoughts only settling further. He knew he ought to just go home, but he couldn't let his small team down. He wasn't sure where the rain of bullets came from, but he saw Chris fall, felt the heat as they whizzed past them.

Harrison shouted down the radio, opening fire in return as he dragged Chris out of the way. He was more stunned than anything, a graze to his thigh and shoulder. The man Harrison had only ever known as Romeo finished the attackers off, rushing to their side as the alley silenced once more.

Reinforcements were quick to swarm them, the van swerving between warehouses to pick them up. They were quick to jump in the back, the five of them quickly taking stock and checking each other over.

Harrison quickly braced himself against the side as they started moving, the sudden movement sending a lance of pain through his abdomen. He groaned, unfortunately all too aware of the pain. His vest had a nick out of it, and he could tell by the budding bruises growing under it. The pain was worse than just that, and he couldn't quite believe it as his fingers came back red.

The bullet had missed the vest, only by a fraction, but that was all it needed to make its mark. He swore quietly, pulling on the velcro. The vest was stuck to his top, and his top to his skin, sticky red seeping through the fabric.

It took him a moment to catch up, and to realise he was being gently convinced to sit down. Their hands were gentle, though they shook. He rested his head against the side of the van, his vision starting to fade. He groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it, his brow furrowing.

"Fuck." He breathed, breaking off into heaving coughs. "This is bullshit."

"Hars, what do we do?"

He managed to glare at them. "Are you fucking wit' me?"

"There's just - it's a bit - it's just - "

"Fuck off with that." Harrison didn't have time for his crap. "One of you call…call Fao."

He barely managed the sentence, each word slurring into the next. He pitched forward as the van swerved, but he made no attempt to save himself. There was a dull thud as his body fell against the floor, his eyes rolled and unresponsive.

"What's going on back there?" The driver called gruffly.

"Harrison’s down."

"What happened?"

"I don't know!" His voice whined, his age showing through his panic.

"Call a medic alert, get the kit out and treat the fucker."

When Fao’s phone rang in the middle of the night, he startled awake, fumbling for it in the dark. He’d been out for dinner that night, definitely wasn’t sober, but the adrenaline was already doing a pretty good job of fixing that. They didn’t give him much information over the phone, just that they’d got a GSW and their rough location, in code so they’d be safe if anyone else happened to be listening. They were too far out to get back to the basement, and Fao would need to meet them halfway to treat.

He woke Ely, gave her a quick update, and pulled on some clothes, the first thing he found on the floor, his shirt and trousers from the evening. He didn’t have time to go looking for anything else, and bolted out of the house. There was kit in his car, and he knew there was kit in the van. He wasn’t sure what he’d need, but between both he’d probably have everything he needed. He sped through the streets to the meet location he’d been given, ditched his car somewhere safe, and scrambled into the van.

“What am I doing? Talk to me.” He asked breathlessly.

Harrison had become combative as he deteriorated, struggling between conscious and not. It scared the men, and they'd all taken a step back, too uncomfortable to help.

Fao was a welcome sight, his reputation preceding him.

"Uh, Harrison got shot. He won't let us near him, so we haven't."

Fao’s heart sank. Of course it was Harrison. “Oh, good. Just him bleed out all over the van, then.” He snapped, quickly throwing his hair up into a bun. “I need proper light, one of you sort that.” His voice was cold, commanding, rolling his sleeves up and quickly looking Harrison over. It wasn’t hard to see where the blood was coming from, and he shifted his weight to brace himself as he grabbed gauze and put as much pressure on it as he dared. “You. Come here, take over the pressure.”

“I, uh, I…”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it. Cover my hands with yours and hold the pressure until I say otherwise. Unless you want to start an IV? No? Didn’t think so.” He snapped, as the other man took over. He wiped his bloody hands off on his shirt, and shifted over slightly to Harrison’s arm, eyes looking critically for a vein as he rifled through the kit.

The pain somehow got worse. Harrison wasn't sure how, but it did. He cried out through gritted teeth, trying to arch away. It took a moment to coordinate, but he started swinging, trying to get away.

Fao ducked out of the way, catching Harrison’s fist and gently forcing his arm back down. “Harrison? It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s Fao, I’ve got you. Try and relax, you’re safe now. I’m helping, alright? Let me help.”

"He's going to hit me!"

“He’s half unconscious, try harder to dodge him.” Fao shot back. “I’m working as fast as I can.” He gritted his teeth as he tried desperately to get a vein, struggling with poor light and Harrison’s struggling. He got one eventually, shouting triumphantly. It wasn’t enough, and he wanted more access, but he could at least get some pain relief in, hopefully settle him.

Harrison twisted as Fao shouted, whining as he tried to get away. His chest heaved as he struggled to get his breath, the feeling he was drowning all too much.

“Sorry, sorry.” Fao soothed. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay, Hars. Just focus on doing that breathing, let me to do the rest. Giving you something for the pain, now, gonna make it easier.” He told him, quickly checking the drug before he gave it.

His shouts died down into cries, quiet whimpering softly to himself. The pain had started to ease slightly, making it easier to focus. It made breathing more difficult, though, and he couldn't stop the panic coursing through him.

“You’re okay, that’s it. Well done, keep breathing for me.”

He turned his head, looking towards Fao's voice. "Help."

“I’m helping, I promise.”

"It hurts." He managed, finally managing to focus on him.

“I know, I know. I’ve given you some painkillers, they’ll work soon.”

"'m dying."

“No you’re not. Just focus on your breathing for me, let me sort the rest.”

"I am."

“That’s it, good.” Fao reassured. There was so much blood, and he was really struggling to properly control it. The van went over a bump and jolted, and Fao tried to brace himself on his knees. “Fucking hell.”

Harrison whined, trying to pull away from the pain. It was everywhere, though, and there was nothing he could do.

“Well done, that’s it.” He soothed. “I’ve got you.” He stretched for his kit, rifling through to try and find what he needed. He needed a trained someone, anyone who he could trust. Not Harrison’s little team.

Frustrated and tired, he started fighting against the other man. He got a solid elbow in their ribs, the relief of pressure against his side just bliss.

“I know, I know.” Fao murmured, moving to try and pack the wound.

He twisted again, curling away from Fao. His scream died on his tongue, his hands pushing against Fao's.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” Fao muttered. He was happy enough with the packing, and moved to try and get a listen to Harrison’s chest. It was loud on the van, and he struggled to keep his balance as he listened, swearing to himself.

Harrison could feel himself slipping, the ceiling of the van swimming in and out of focus. Even the pain couldn't keep him conscious, his head lolling.

Fao’s stomach twisted as Hars lost consciousness, but he was relieved in a way. At least he wasn’t in pain. He didn’t like what he was hearing at all from his chest, and dug in his kit to find what he needed for a chest drain. It certainly wouldn’t be perfect, but it would do. He didn’t even bother talking to the other men as he grabbed a scalpel, found his landmark, and made the cut.

He definitely felt that, and he cried out again, but he wasn't with it any more. The men beside Fao retched, especially as blood quickly poured from the drain.

Fao rolled his eyes as the men retched. What he wouldn’t give for Steve or Finn or someone. Trying to manage this completely on his own wasn’t working. He took a set of obs as best he could, blood soaking his trousers and making them cling to him. The numbers he got back were more than a bit concerning, despite his interventions, and they weren’t getting any better. Fuck.

Harrison coughed and choked, spots of blood on his lips. His resps were through the roof, his heart rate doing its best to compensate for his blood pressure circling, for his blood volume pooling on the floor. He managed to catch Fao's eye, and he met his gaze with panic and fear in his eyes.

Fao locked eyes with Harrison. “I’ve got you, Tomcat. You’re gonna be okay.” He told him firmly. Things were just consistently getting worse, though, and Fao felt considerably out of control. He gave as much TXA as he felt he could, but it wasn’t close to enough to help the bleeding.

“How far out are we?” He snapped, asking whoever cared to listen.

"We've still got at least fifteen minutes."

“Fuck’s sake.”

Hars could feel himself slipping again, missing parts of the conversation. He grabbed for Fao's top, his hand leaving more bloodied streaks across it.

"I want Steve."

“We’re gonna be with him really soon, Hars.” Fao murmured. “He’s gonna be waiting for us at home.”

He shook his head. "I'm not gonna make it."

“As if I’m giving up on you. I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, alright? Hold on for me.”

He knew Fao was trying his best, and he’d continue to do nothing but. He trusted Fao with his life, and they unfortunately kept ending up in situations where it was tested. It didn’t take a genius to know he wasn’t okay, and the small bit or working brain he had left had worked out it probably wasn't going to end well.

He forced his eyes open again, though he didn't remember closing them. "It's okay."

Fao’s repeat set of obs were no better. In fact, they were worse. He swallowed thickly, digging around in his pocket for his phone. He needed to talk to Steve, needed someone medical he could talk to, to reassure him he wasn’t completely out of his mind.

He chucked it on the floor of the van on speaker as it rang, and he prayed he’d answer.

"Fao, talk to me. I heard the call for medical."

“It’s Hars, and it’s bad. We’re still miles out, in the back of a shitty van, and all I have is my kit.”

Hars stirred again. "Steve?"

"Hey, Hars. You causing problems for Fao, eh?" He tried to sound light for him, but even he could hear the waver in his tone. He cleared his throat. "What's happened with him? Head to toe, obs, and what kit do you have?"

“GSW, it’s gone just under his vest, entry is the abdo but exit is further up into the chest. Haemothorax on the right. I’ve got a drain in but it’s putting out so much fucking blood. Pulse 138, BP 76/50, SpO2 94 on high flow, Resps sitting at 36, he's still not getting chest rise on the right. He's with it enough, but he's starting to pass out and stay out. I've given the TXA but it's just not stopping. The floor is covered, I'm covered. It’s my kit, it’s decent. Airway kit, ket, paralytics, TXA. I’m just out of my fucking depth here, nobody else knows a fucking thing and I feel like I’m going insane.”

Steve took a moment. Well, fuck. "Right. Take a breath. Reassess, keep going ABCs. You need to get on top of that bleeding. He's not going to be able to compensate forever. Have you got anything to give? Will they follow instructions?"

“I know he won’t compensate forever.” Fao snapped. “I’ve got saline but no blood. They’re fucking useless, hadn’t touched him at all when I showed up. Not even put pressure on.”

"Fucking hell. Okay. Fluid bolus, see if that helps his pressure at all. He's not going to hold his airway by himself if he goes, so just be careful."

Fao quickly set up the fluids, wiping his hands on his trousers as he struggled with the connectors. Fluids running, he forced himself to breathe. “Alright. Fluids in. I want to sort his airway before it becomes a problem.”

"If you're thinking RSI, you need to trust they can help."

"Steve." Harrison interrupted again, apparently unaware of the conversation.

“I don’t think I’m going to have a choice, Steve. I’m watching him deteriorate in front of me, and we’re still miles out.”

"You can see him, not me. Do what you think is best."

Unimpressed by Steve's lack of response, he shoved at Fao with a frustrated grunt. "Steve."

Fao huffed. “Thank you, Hars.” He muttered under his breath. “He’s very insistent that he wants you, Steve.”

"Hars, we're just trying to help you."

"No." He shook his head, though Steve couldn't see, and Fao wasn't sure he didn't realise that.

“We are, I’m doing my best right now Hars. Focus on breathing like I said.”

He sniffed, setting himself off coughing again. The pain exploded again, despite the morphine, and, once more, slipped under.

God, it was just getting worse. He hated watching Harrison slip into unconsciousness again, powerless to stop it.

"Fao, talk to me." Steve's tone was tense, and Fao could hear him pacing.

“Unconscious again, I’m repeating obs.” Fao replied, his own tone similarly tense.

"Come on, Hars. Don't do this." Steve murmured, wishing he was there with them.

The blood pressure cycled, protesting at the numbers. It continued tightening, way into the two hundreds, and Harrison gave a whine. He tried to pull away from it, panicked.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just give it a minute, I know it’s uncomfy.” Fao murmured, but it wasn’t a good sign. He knew full well it wasn’t high enough to need that kind of pressure - it was just struggling for a read full stop.

Harrison, of course, didn't listen. He twisted away, an unintelligible shout in both pain and frustration.

"Hars, listen to Fao. He's looking after you."

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Fao tried vainly to soothe. But sure enough the blood pressure gave up, failing to get a read, and Fao’s stomach dropped. “Fluids haven’t done shit. It won’t even read, just cycles until it gives up.”

"You're going to have to give more, you can't RSI that low. Has he got a radial?"

It took Fao a moment. “No. Nothing.”

"Give him fluids."

“I might as well just pour them on the fucking floor.” Fao muttered, but swapped the bag over to give more.

"Just try."

“Yeah, they’re running.”

Harrison screwed his face up, managing to squint at Fao. He was sure he'd heard Steve too, but the huddle of men behind Fao were too small to be him.

“That’s it Hars, you’re alright.” Fao said softly, half as reassurance for himself.

"Where's Steve?" He slurred, more of a mumble than anything.

“On the phone with me.” Fao replied.

"Right here, Hars."

“Both of us are looking after you.”

"Sorry."

“Don’t apologise.” Fao said firmly.

Harrison lapsed back into silence, somewhere between conscious and not. As the blood pressure started again, he whined once more, but didn't pull away.

Harrison’s blood was drying on his hands, as Fao waited for the machine to read, praying it would give him something. Just a number would be better than the endless cycling.

Harrison's breath caught in his throat again, and his frown deepened. He knew Fao was looking after him, and Steve was there too, somewhere. He could see Fao leaning over him, doing things in slow motion. Which left Steve..

"Dad?"

Fao’s stomach twisted, and the noise Steve made over the crackled phone line was less than dignified.

“I’m right here, Hars. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” He replied, his voice wavering. “You’re going to be okay.”

He seemed to have a sudden rush of energy, though his observations were still terrible, and his prognosis even worse.

"Thank you." He muttered softly.

Fao sucked in another deep breath, forcing himself to re-focus. He had to keep doing this. “Blood pressure is a little less shit. I’ve at least got a number.”

"That's good." Steve managed.

Harrison reached for Fao’s hand, for a moment of comfort in his desperation.

Fao squeezed his fingers. “I’ve got you.” He murmured. He laid out his airway kit with the other hand, leaving smears of blood all over it, though he didn’t notice. He needed the blood pressure up a bit more before he could fully RSI, but it never hurt to prepare.

The squeeze managed to help, a tiny hint of a smile gracing Harrison's blood-splattered lips. He tried his best, his fingers twitching in Fao's before his eyes rolled. It didn’t take long for things to go south, as Hars took a breath and then stopped.

“Fuck.” Fao muttered, snatching up his kit. He couldn’t put this off any longer now, he needed control of his airway. Unsure just how conscious he was, having watched him flick in and out, Fao chatted away to him as he sorted it, half to keep himself from losing it. “Alright Hars. That’s you finding your limit, hmm? It’s okay, I’ll take over from here. Got some meds to get you off to sleep now, so you can have a nap whilst I do the hard work.” He quickly pushed the ket, watching him carefully. There were men clustered around Harrison’s head, and Fao snapped at them to move, which they did. Happy with his sedation, he pushed his roc, bagged until he was happy with it, and snatched up his tube and laryngoscope. He was rusty with his intubations, of course, so what better time to practice than in a dark, moving van covered in blood? But Harrison, for all he made Fao’s life difficult, apparently wasn’t a difficult airway, and Fao got it first time. He shouted triumphantly, checked his placement, and then secured it.

“Tube’s in, airway’s secure.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. "Good. Well done."

Fao couldn’t breathe for Harrison forever, not if he was going to continue to manage the bleeding. “Which one of you lot is the most competent here? Who’s not a complete idiot?” He asked.

They were all quiet, slightly afraid of Harrison and definitely afraid of Fao. After a moment, one of them stepped forward.

"I can help. What do you need?"

Fao looked up. “Are you capable of breathing?”

"For him?"

Fao huffed. “Essentially, yes. Every time you take a breath, I want you to squeeze this to breathe for him, too. Can you do that?” He asked, demonstrating. “I can’t sit here and do it, I’ve got other stuff to do.”

Panic flashed across his face. "Okay. Yeah." He swallowed, taking a moment. It was Harrison. He'd got him out of shit so many times before, it was only fair to return the favour. "I can do that."

“Just whenever you breathe, breathe for him too. Just got to think about breathing. Okay?”

"Okay." He moved to take Fao's place. "I can do that."

“Shout if you get stuck.” Fao murmured, and moved away, to carefully take yet another set of obs, praying they were better than before.

Steve hated being so far away, so unable to do anything. "Fao, talk to me."

“I’m taking obs.” Fao shot back. “I’ll tell you stuff when I know it.”

"You just went silent. I need to know what's happening."

“I’m trying to concentrate!”

"Fine, hurry up."

“Going as fast as I can.” He muttered. For once, Harrison’s obs had trended slightly upwards, and Fao was glad of it. “A bit better. SpO2 has come up, as has his BP.”

"Good. The tube will be helping with his sats."

“Yeah, that’s why I did it.” Fao said flatly.

"I just mean that he's not going to be resping at fifty or some shite."

“Yeah.”

"How's the bleeding doing?"

“Still fucking bleeding.”

"I've put a call out for more blood, you just need to get back."

“I’ll need the whole trauma setup.” Fao muttered, doing his best to manage the bleeding. “Can you go up and wake Ely? I’m going to need her."

"Everyone's up. They're just sorting the basement out."

“Good.” Fao was relieved he had a team waiting for him.

"If the second lot of fluids helped, you can give him another 500 bolus."

“It’s helped, but I don’t know for how much longer. I’ve got no pressors, and limited fluids.”

"You just need to get him back. If he's still got pressure, give it."

“Giving it now.” He muttered, trying to push his hair out of his face.

"Give me a run down of his obs once you've done that."

He finally got it connected and running, discarding the spent bag. His ‘assistant’ was doing well ventilating, surprisingly, and so he quickly started on obs. He hated having to do this in such an old fashioned manner, he missed his hospital conveniences and continuous monitoring.

But as he started, he just knew it was wrong, and when he didn’t find a pulse, his stomach twisted. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

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sleepdeprivedandinsane · 1 year

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Love You Like I'm Never Gonna Love You Again

Evan 'Buck' Buckley x Fem!Reader

angst with a happy ending

summary: Reader gets shot on a job. When she flatlines on the way to the hospital, Buck is worried she won't make it out alive.

POTENTIAL TW : : mentions of gsw, blood, grief, guns? I think? If there's any I missed or should add lmk! Enjoy 🫡

I only have one thing to say for this... sorry 🥲

It was times like this that Buck wondered why he did what he did. Everyone was silent as they sat at the dinner table. No one bothered to try and say anything, and no one looked up either. They all focused on their polished black shoes, not having the stomach to look up and see her empty chair.

He hears people say, "it all happened so fast," but when the shot rang out and he watched the blood spread on her shirt, everything was in slow motion. The shot echoed in his ears. He was too shocked to scream as her body fell slowly to the ground. Realization hit when he felt her blood on his face, and everyone rushed to her aid. It was like someone shocked him, like he jolted awake from a nightmare. Only, when he woke up, she wasn't better.

"No..." He said. "No, no, no!" He screamed, rushing to her.

Bobby and Eddie held him back as he fought to get to her, Hen and Chim working with shaky hands.

"This can't be happening..." He whimpered.

She looked at him, a weak smile on her bloody face, blood pouring from her wound."It's okay. It'll be okay." She muttered fraily.

She nodded, as if trying to convince herself as well.

"Please- let me go!" He yelled desperately, "please! I need to go to her!" His eyes watered as he begged Bobby and Eddie to let him go.

They, too, were on the verge of tears, trying to hold them back for his sake. It wouldn't have made much of a difference, though. All his focus was on her.

Once they got her loaded into the ambulance, they let him go. He ran to her side and sat down. He took her hand, brushing the stray hairs that fell from her braid away from her eyes. She looked up at him with watery eyes, swallowing thickly because she knew it wasn't good. A bullet wound is supposed to hurt. It isn't good when it doesn't.

"Try not to move, okay?" He said shakily.

She nodded, squeezing his hand to assure him. She felt somewhat guilty that she was even trying when she knew she probably wouldn't make it to the hospital. She couldn't bring herself to lie to him. She couldn't find the words to tell him how much she loved him either.

"You're gonna be okay. You have to be." He said firmly, denial dripping from his tongue.

She shook her head. "No." She whimpered. "I'm not."

He shook his head defiantly. "Don't say that. Say anything but that." He said, his voice cracking.

Hen and Chim had to choke back the words 'she's right' because they themselves didn't want to believe she wasn't going to be okay. They wanted to believe she'd be okay like Buck did.

"Okay." She said. "Then I need to tell you something. Before I don't get the chance. I-" She started.

But he cut her off with a shake of his head. "No, you can tell me when you're better." He said.

They all knew what she was going to say, but no one said anything. Everyone, including each other, knew about their feelings for each other. Y/n was afraid of it all going sour, however, and she didn't have the courage to take the plunge and risk losing her best friend. Evan, he wanted to save them both the heartache in case it didn't last. Mostly himself, if he was honest. He knew they'd come back from it, but it'd never be the same. They didn't want to take that chance, and everyone thought it was stupid. Anyone with eyes could see they were crazy for each other. Absolutely head over heels.

"You can't leave me. Please don't leave me." He said desperately, tears streaming down his blood stained cheeks.

She reached up and wiped away his tears, her hand lingering when he leaned into her. "You'll be okay." She said sadly.

"No." He croaked. "I won't." He shook his head, placing his hand on hers.

"You'll have Maddie, Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Eddie, and Christopher. You'll be okay." She tried to convince him.

"But I won't have you." He whispered. "You can't give up yet. You have to fight." He said defeated.

"I'm so tired." She said weakly. "I'm sorry." She said, struggling to get the words out.

"I know it hurts-" He said, but she cut him off.

"It doesn't. It doesn't hurt." She whispered.

"Please, it's not supposed to end this way, I still need you. We still need you." He said.

She smiled weakly, wiping his tears once more. She gasped, her chest heaving, before she stilled, her eyes going blank. For a moment, her hand remained against his cheek, but he knew she was gone. Her smile faded, her mouth agape as blood spilled from the corners. Her hand fell, and Buck never knew silence could be so loud. The constant beep, the solid line, seemed to taunt them. Hen angrily shut it off. Chimney slowly took his hands from her wound where he attempted to stop the bleeding.

"No." Buck said, getting up and starting cpr.

He wasn't ready to give up on her. Henrietta shut her eyes tightly, fighting back tears of her own. Chimney shook his head, determined to see her smile again. To see them finally happy together. To see her in a white gown as he watched his best friends say their vows. To see little baby Buckleys running around with Jee-yun. He reached into her wound, closing off the source of the bleed. Hen sniffled as she turned the machine back on, the consistent beep sounding again. What was a taunt became motivation to them, and Buck continued to try recesutate her.

"C'mon..." He said. "C'mon!" He yelled desperately.

Tears mixed with the dried blood on his face, but he hardly noticed either. Hen tried not to look because seeing one of her best friends lay lifeless on the gurney, while another desperately tried to bring her back, would be too much. She knew that would break her. Break her faith in the job. She needed to try to remember why she did it instead of seeing a reason not to.

As Chimney ran beside the gurney, Hen filled in the doctors and nurses, but Buck didn't hear. He just heard a ringing in his ears, the gun shot echoing in his head. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him, the blood still spilling from her mouth. It gave him a little hope, though, because if she was totally gone she wouldn't be bleeding... right?

"Sir, we can take it from here." A nurse said, easing Buck from his position above her as he tried to get her heart beating again.

Chim was eased into paper blue covers as they rolled them into surgery.

They hadn't been ushered away yet. They could see nurses starting chest compressions and giving her O2. They could see the doctors gently ease Chim's hand from her wound. They could see the blood pour from the wound as a result. As the minutes droned on and her heart didn't start, he felt his own shatter.

It wasn't quick. It was slow. Painful.

Hen could see her blood spilling onto the floor. Her hope quickly diminished seeing the amount.

Finally, Buck could see her heart re-start and her chest rise, and he released a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

Then, Buck finally broke down. He fell to his knees, sobbing. Hen knelt down with him, pulling him into her embrace, but it offered neither of them comfort. Bobby, Eddie, and Athena rushed to them.

Athena's face fell. "She flat lined. Didn't she?" She said sadly, defeated.

Hen nodded weakly. Eddie dropped to his knees, hugging Buck as well.

"I'm gonna get this son of a bitch." Athena growled, storming out of the trauma bay. "Call me when she's out of surgery." She said as she determinedly walked away.

Bobby hung his head, unwillingly letting the tears fall. None of them could bring themselves to leave. None of them wanted to.

It wasn't until Chim finally returned, covered in blood, and said they wouldn't know anything for several more hours.

It took some convincing, but they finally got Buck to leave to finish his shift. But none of them truly left the ER.

Buck had an empty plate in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. Not when he saw her blank expression every time he closed his eyes.

Their families all came out to support them, the community coming together to put out candles and figures of good luck and healing, hoping and praying for the firefighter and her family and team. Praying for good news. The sight was bittersweet.

Buck couldn't stand the silence. He stood abruptly and left, heading to the locker rooms.

He had to choke back a sob. He didn't want to live without her. He didn't want to love anyone else but her. He didn't want to do this job if she wasn't beside him.

"Evan, you were made to save a life."

His mother's voice rang out in his head.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. He wanted her back.

He missed her smile, he missed her laugh, he missed the stupid jokes she'd tell to cheer everyone up on a hard day. He missed her warm hugs and how she smelled like roses and lillies: her favorite perfume. Her hair always smelled fruity, and her skin was always so soft. He missed her giggles and the way she'd gently caress his face. He wanted her back.

He wanted to hear from the damn hospital. Wanted to hear them say she made it through. It was nearing six hours after the shooting, and it felt like the longest six hours of his life.

He stood in the locker room, leaning against the metal doors of the lockers, his head down. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to think of her in any way that wasn't the lifeless look in her eyes. Even if she made it, that sight would haunt his nightmares. He mentally kicked himself for not telling her he loved her sooner. He knew she knew. Hell, everyone else did too. But he needed to know she heard it. And right now, he was praying for any miracle. He was praying that he'd get the chance to tell her, kiss her, hold her, anything.

He screamed and stood, hitting the lockers to try to ease the pain in any way. He punched and punched, angry and distraught and so many other things. He wanted order. He needed something to ground him. Right now, that was the stinging pain in his knuckles. He punched the doors again and again until his fist was as numb as he was inside. He fell to his knees, crying weakly.

Maddie came in, silently sitting next to him on the floor. She didn't try reassuring him that she'd be okay because truth be told, she was terrified too. She also knew nothing she said would help ease his pain. So she simply laid a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his face to her. She smiled softly, pulling his head forward and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He leaned on her, laying his head on her shoulder as he sobbed tiredly.

"I just need to know that she's okay." He croaked weakly. "I just need her to be okay." He sobbed.

"Shh," she cooed softly, "I know." She whispered. She held his shoulders, letting her own tears fall.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say it'll be okay. I don't know if she's going to make it, and I won't try to pretend that I do. But I know one thing: she is incredibly strong." She said, pulling him away just enough to look him in the eye.

"She's got a lot of fire left in her, still got a lot of fight left. She doesn't give up easily, and I refuse to believe that this time is going to be any different. She's too stubborn and bull headed to let someone else decide when it's her time to leave. And I have that to hold onto." She said.

He smiled faintly. "Thank you." He whispered. "That helps." He said, nodding as he closed his eyes.

"You need to go home and rest." She said concerned.

He shook his head. "I can't sleep without knowing she's okay." He said defiantly.

Just then, Chimney ran in, Jee on his hip. "It's the hospital." He panted. "They've got news on Y/n." He said.

Maddie and Buck shot up from the floor, running out to the main floor where Bobby was on the phone with the doctor.

"Here they are, I'm putting you on speaker." He said when Maddie and Buck approached.

"I'm relieved to call with good news. Ms Y/l/n made it." He said relieved.

A collection of cheers sounded throughout the firehouse. And for the first time since she was shot, Buck felt all the tension leave his body. "Thank god." He muttered to himself.

"She suffered slight head trauma when she fell, and with the pain medication she's on, she'll probably be out for a while." He said.

"When can we see her?" Hen asked antsy.

"You can come down now if you'd like. Visiting hours are over, but I'll make an exception this time." He said.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Bobby said.

Before he even ended the call, Buck was running to his jeep. He sped to the hospital, probably breaking several traffic laws on the way, but at the moment, he could care less. All he could think was, 'She's alive. She's really alive. She's okay.' In that moment, nothing else mattered to him. She was alive. That's all that he cared about.

He ran up to the receptionist, and as soon as he had her room number, he was running up the stairs.

The elevator might've been quicker, but the burn in his legs and the sharp jab in his gut as he took the stairs two at a time reminded him that he was awake, that it was real. She was really okay.

He saw her through the large window in the wall, the door slightly ajar. All the air left his lungs. He couldn't describe the immense relief any other way.

He rushed to her side, dropping into the chair beside her bed. The back of her gown was open, the bandages peeking through. Before he even registered it, he was tucking the blanket over her exposed skin. He took her hand in his, feeling her warm skin against his. He sighed, leaning his forehead against their intertwined hands. Up until now, he hadn't realized just how tired he was. His face was probably all red and puffy from crying, but he didn't care all that much anymore. He'd hang the moon if it meant she would be okay. He'd hold the sky up for her if it meant he would see her smile again. He didn't care. All that mattered to him was that she was safe.

She groaned, squeezing his hand in hers. "Hey, Buckley." She croaked out with a dry throat.

He smiled, remembering when she would call him that when they first got to know each other. At first, it was because she was bad at remembering names and relied on the name tags. Then, it became a way for her to tease him because she knew he didn't like it. He would always respond with her last name, too, but it was only her and a few other people who were allowed to call him that. The few other people being Hen, Chim, Bobby, and Eddie. And of course, his sister, but she only really did when he was about to be reprimanded for something. Other than that, no one else was allowed to use his full name. She was even allowed to call him Evan, but she only used it when it was just them.

"Hey, Y/l/n." He responded softly. He gently handed her the cup of ice water from the table beside her bed, helping her sit up slightly so she could take a drink. She nodded when she was finished and he set it down.

She smiled at him fondly. "You were right." She said. "Maybe I was being a little dramatic." She joked lightheartedly.

Maybe he wasn't in the mood, but that struck a cord with him. "You weren't being dramatic, Y/n, you flatlined. You almost died." He said seriously.

Her eyes widened and she sat forward slightly. "I- what?" She asked shocked.

His eyes began to water, and his had shook slightly. "You were dead. I thought you were gone. I was so scared." He whispered meekly.

She frowned, pulling his face to hers. She rested her forehead against his, gently wiping his tears away. "Hey, I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." She whispered.

"You almost died. I didn't know what I was going to do if you didn't make it. I wasn't sure I could live with myself." He said softly. "I need you here. I've never loved anyone the way I love you." He admitted. He wasn't too particularly happy with the time and place, but he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to know he told her. He needed to know he said it.

She kissed him deeply, putting everything she was trying to tell him in it. That she was real, and she was alive. She wasn't going anywhere. That she loved him too.

"I love you. God, I've wanted to tell you for so long but I was too scared." He said.

"What made you not be scared anymore?" She asked.

"Oh, I'm still scared. I'm scared if we go all in and it ends badly, that I'll lose my best friend and the best thing that's ever happened to me. But seeing you lay lifeless on the gurney scared me way more. I'm still scared, but not as scared as I was when I thought you died." He said.

Her face fell. "Oh, God, you saw me flatline?" She said, a mix of emotions crossing her face. He just nodded sadly.

"I saw through the window. There was so much blood. It's something that's going to haunt my nightmares for the foreseeable future." He said.

She stroked his cheek gently. "You said I could say it when I was better. Can I say it now?" She asked.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Please."

"I love you, Evan Buckley." She said smiling.

He smiled relieved. She leaned her forehead against his again. "I love you so much." She whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you." She said, peppering his face with kisses until he finally smiled. "There it is." She said softly.

"I'm never letting you go again." He said, gently pulling her into his chest to hug her, just wanted to hold her for a little while.

"Well, that's good, 'cus I'm never leaving your side." She said, sinking into his embrace.

Eventually, after a grueling 30 minutes of being stuck in traffic due to a pileup, the team finally made it to the hospital, only to find Y/n and Buck asleep.

Y/n lay back, the bed sitting up slightly, but not much. Buck lay right next to her chest, her arm over his shoulders, and their fingers entwined. It looked like they fell asleep talking and watching 'Gone With The Wind' on some channel. They all smiled at the sight, happy to see the two finally relaxed.

Each one took a seat somewhere and eventually fell asleep themselves. They weren't about to leave without giving Y/n a hug and reminding her how much they love her. Besides, they were all exhausted. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. The hospital wasn't the best place to sleep, but they weren't about to leave their youngest member alone in a hospital room, let alone let Buck be there by himself. And maybe it was to make themselves feel better because they were all worried sick about her. Or maybe it was for her and Buck. All they knew: they weren't leaving her alone again.

#angst prompt #writers on tumblr #911 on fox #911 one shot #evan 'buck' buckley #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #this is some angst angst

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