If he kept his eyes closed, he wouldn't really be awake. He felt for his pillow, which had made its escape over the side of the bed. He rolled over after grabbing it, hoping that the change in position would be enough.
He jerked back awake. He groaned as he laid there, feeling light he had just drifted off. What had woken him this time?
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Fuck. He sat up to look around the room, hoping it would be a quick fix. Nothing was out if place.
He flopped back down onto his bed before jerking back up when the tapping continued. He couldn't stand whatever it was.
After flipping on the light switch, he began looking everywhere for the source of the noise. Under the bed, the sink, no weird video left open on his phone. Nothing. Out of desperation he jerked his curtains open, only to lay eyes on a wasp that was bumping into the window. Apparently, disturbing the wasp was the worst idea in the planet, because now it was pissed. At first, it seemed to be spooked and flew away. But then, it became apparent that it was just trying to get more room to build up speed.
Whap!
The wasp had smashed into the window, and he could only watch in horror as cracks started branching out from where that wasp was now embedded in the glass.
Fuck. How was he going to explain this to his landlord?
No. You know what? He's got to be hallucinating. That's all this is. The sleep deprivation was just getting to him. He'll just go back to bed, get some sleep, and then when he gets up in the morning it'll be gone.
He climbed back into his bed and pulled his covers up and grabbed a pillow to cuddle. He laid there with his eyes closed, trying to drift off to sleep. His brain wouldn't do him the courtesy of shutting up though, and just kept replaying the *hallucination* of the wasp ramming itself into the glass to try and sting him.
Maybe he should go back to the window and check. Surely his hallucination of the cracked window would disappear by now? He wasn't too sure how that sort of thing worked.
Nope. Still there. Wait, wait, wait. He's got this. He went back to his bed and grabbed his phone off the charger. He snapped a quick picture of the window and sent it to Eddie. This'll prove it. Eddie's going to say something about how the view sucks at night and he'll be able to rest in peace because it'll be settled.
Ding! His phone chirped as he received a text.
Eddie: Dude, what happened to your window?
Eddie: Wait, why are you even awake? Go to bed.
Eddie: Unless you woke up because of your window cracking, that's understandable. But still, go to bed.
Dammit. That means he actually does need to talk to his landlord.
He sent him a quick text back, telling him that he'd never believe what happened to the window and that he was about to go back to bed.
To be fair, he did try again to go to sleep. It just didn't work. Again.
Eventually, he grabbed his cellphone, a pillow, and his blankets and went downstairs to the couch. He got curled up in one of the comfiest positions he had ever managed to get while on a couch.
It felt like two seconds after he closed his eyes to try and get some sleep he felt light shining through the window and heard birds chirping.
He groaned before getting up. There was no point in trying to sleep now. He stumbled into the kitchen and started his coffee maker before slumping against the counter. Today was going to suck.
He was right. It was a lot of nonstop boring calls all day. Cats stuck in trees, fire hydrants being kicked open, small fender benders... He was already exhausted, and the calls were just making it worse.
He wasn't even able to catch up on sleep in the bunks, because everytime he decided to head up there, boom, the alarm started going off.
His eyes kept blinking shut against his will, just in time to hit a pothole on the way back from their last call. He sighed in defeat, he had been so close to drifting off too.
As they came to a stop in the firehouse, a hand gripped his elbow before he could get up.
"Come on, Buck. Just a little longer," Eddie told him.
He tried to stifle his yawn so he could reply. It didn't work very well.
"You-you don't have to help me out of the truck, you know," he finally managed to say.
Eddie just raised his eyebrow at him and gave him the 'Are you sure about that?' face.
"I'm offended," he complained, right before tripping over the hose being rolled up.
Eddie caught him, because of course he did.
"Yep, you're coming with me. Grab your stuff, Buckley," Eddie told him while gently pushing him to the locker room.
He gave a token protest as he grabbed his stuff, but didn't complain too much since he realized he was going to be too tired to drive himself anyway.
It was also because he almost fell asleep while unlacing his work boots.
"Buck, stay with me man. You can crash in the truck, but I'm not hauling your ass into it."
He shook his head to try and chase off the exhaustion again, and grabbed his bag.
After getting into the truck, it seemed like one second he was buckling in and the next second they were parking in Eddie's drive way.
Eddie threw an arm around his shoulders and guided him into the house. He started to aim straight for the couch, but Eddie nudged him away from it. He whined in protest when he was denied sleep again.
"You and me both know you'll end up killing your back on that thing. Come on," Eddie told him.
So, he ended up following Eddie into his room. He took a second to look around. He actually didn't go in here all that often, so it was always interesting to see if anything changed.
"Oof!" he let out.
Eddie had gotten tired of him just standing there and had shoved him onto the bed.
"If you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked," he complained.
Eddie gave a little smirk at him.
"Alright Buck, will you please sleep with me?" he asked.
He choked on his spit.
Then, Eddie crawled under the covers and patted the spot next to him.
"Come on, man. You've been fighting sleep off all day. Let it hit you."
He didn't need more convincing than that.