Every Breath You Take (I'll be watching you…)

Summary: Buddie fic. Mysterious gifts start appearing at the firehouse for Buck from a secret admirer, but as the gifts get progressively more sinister and the 118 grow increasingly worried, they must uncover the mystery before someone close to them gets seriously hurt, or worse. Protective!Eddie. Established Buddie relationship. Follows on from Turning Point but can be read as a standalone.

Disclaimer: I do not own 9-1-1 or anything associated with the show.

Author Notes: I'm back with my second fanfic for 911 and Buddie! This takes place after the events of my first fic (Turning Point) but it can be read as a standalone.

Trigger warning: Mentions of substance abuse/addiction.

Set after season 6.

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Chapter 1

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"Buck! Buck!"

Young Christopher's voice called out from next to a sleeping Buck, his hands pushing against Buck's arm in an attempt to wake him. Buck forced his eyes open, attempting to stifle a yawn, and squinted in the light of the early morning sun. He frowned and pushed up, glancing around him and at the empty space in the bed beside him.

"Hey, bud," Buck greeted, "what's going on?"

"He's doing it again," Chris complained, his voice taking on a low whine. "You have to stop him."

As if on cue, a loud beeping began to echo throughout the house, Eddie's house, and Buck was moving immediately. He made it all the way to the kitchen before he allowed himself to take a moment, and when he did, he was unable to keep the smile from his face as he let go of a breath and leaned against the doorframe.

Eddie stood under the smoke alarm, wafting the smoke away with a rag, a pan abandoned in the sink with the remnants of a burned pancake sticking to it. So engrossed in cursing at the smoke and the alarm, he showed no sign of noticing Buck's presence until Chris spoke from beside Buck, drawing his attention to the doorway.

"See!" Chris groaned, waving his arm toward his father as he stared on with an accusation in his eyes.

"Looks like we're having cereal for breakfast," Buck answered, ruffling Christopher's hair. "Again."

"Hey, it's not my fault this sartén maldita del infierno refuses to do what it's supposed to." Eddie looked between them, the beeping now silenced, and headed to the sink where the offending pan taunted him.

Chris took a seat at the table, rolling his eyes, but said nothing further. He pulled a bowl toward himself and took the cereal box Buck passed his way.

"I thought you didn't believe in curses," Buck said, retrieving the milk from the fridge and another two bowls from the cupboard.

"Well, I'm thinking I might change my mind on that," Eddie grumbled, but the tension left his face and shoulders as Buck brushed up against him. One hand going to Buck's waist, keeping him close, Eddie used the other to grab the bowls. "Cereal it is," he breathed out, enjoying the moment a second longer before joining Chris at the table.

Buck took the seat beside Eddie and swapped the milk for the cereal, shaking some into Eddie's bowl before doing the same for his. It wasn't long before they were all munching happily on their breakfast, chattering about the day ahead and making plans for the upcoming weekend that both Buck and Eddie had managed to wrangle off. With Halloween fast approaching, time was running out to get costumes and candy and decorations, and Christopher was insistent that they needed to go big.

This was, after all, their first Halloween together. Or at least, together together. Buck couldn't keep the contented smile from his face as he thought about all the firsts they had already shared and how many more they had to come.

It was coming up to three months since Eddie's confession to Buck. Three months where nothing and everything all changed at once. Being with Eddie was just as easy as before, if not easier. Instead of pining over his best friend, lying to himself that their friendship was enough for him, Buck got to love and be loved in return. He got to wake up each morning in a bed that smelled of Eddie, got to smile and laugh and be with him, and got to feel the warmth and safety every time Eddie drew him close.

As for the sex, that was an added bonus that Buck very much enjoyed.

Gradually, Buck found himself following his coma checklist less and less. He would still message Bobby on his days off, but sometimes, it was already afternoon by the time he remembered. The news articles he had open permanently in his phone's browser fell further and further back with each passing day. As for the photo albums that reminded him of his family at the 118, Buck was too busy adding new memories to it to have to convince himself everyday that this was real, and he was awake.

Things were good, and Buck was happy.

.-.-.-.-.

Firefighter Evan Buckley was a name and face he knew well. To say he had mesmerised every inch of him, playing old news recordings on repeat, would make him sound obsessive. And he wasn't. He was not obsessive. He just knew what he liked.

Maybe that was why his partner had broken up with him that morning, walking out the door and leaving his key behind. Or maybe, just maybe, he thought as the crew of the 118 made their way into the club, Evan Buckley at the back, the universe was sending him a sign.

.-.-.-.-.

The Midnight Ace was a club that was in full swing by the time the 118 reached it. The music was loud, the lights were bright, and the people were drunk. Not a great combination, Eddie thought to himself. The wolf-whistles and grabby hands had him rolling his eyes as they made their way through the crowd toward the back of the club where the bar sat. The patrons completely unaware of the potential medical emergency taking place there.

"Okay, so what have we got here?" Bobby questioned as they reached the bar of the Midnight Ace.

The bartender hung up the phone with a quick 'they're here' and jumped over the other side, leading the way towards an area at the back of the club, where luckily, it was also quieter. "One of our regulars went to use the restroom and we noticed he'd been in there for a while. We've tried to get him to talk to us, even got his friends to try calling him, but he's not answering and we can't get inside to check on him."

He came to a stop outside one of the bathroom doors and waved his hand toward it. A couple of people moved back from the door, the worry in their eyes suggesting to Eddie that these were the friends the bartender spoke of.

"What's his name?" Bobby asked, looking between the bartender and the friends.

"Devon," the young woman offered up, her brow creased as she hugged at her arm.

"And does Devon have any medical issues you're aware of?"

She shook her head, as did the others.

Bobby tried the door before looking back to the bartender. "Is there a key for this door?"

"We lost it about a week back. Been trying to get management to do something about it but they didn't think it was urgent enough."

"Well, seems pretty urgent now," Hen answered, moving toward the door and banging her fist against it. "Devon? Devon, it's the LAFD. Can you hear us?"

If there was any response, they couldn't hear it over the deep thumping of the music.

"Right, we need to get this door open. Buck, Eddie, you're up." Bobby nodded toward the door and the pair moved forward.

Eddie crouched down, attempting to look underneath the small gap beneath. "Doesn't appear to be blocked, Cap. I reckon we'll be safe to bust it open."

"Do it. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can assess Devon and make sure he's alright."

It didn't take long to get the door open, Eddie and Buck taking a step back to allow Hen and Chimney to pass. The room was dimly lit and dank, the upturned trash can adding to the cluttered look of the place, but as Eddie's eyes focused more, he could see the legs sticking out from behind the trash can.

"He's unresponsive, Cap," Chimney called out from beside the unconscious young man. "Pulse is thready."

Bobby immediately turned to the young man's friends, looking them over. "Has he taken anything that you know of?"

"No… no, he wasn't even drinking," one of the friends answered. "He's been sober for two years now."

"Cap…" Buck called, holding up a small cylinder he had picked up from near the sink, his face solemn. The implication was clear, and everyone in the room understood.

Hen held out her hand to Buck to take the cylinder. Once she checked it over, she was acting immediately, talking to the unconscious Devon as she did so, asking him to hold on and fight. Chimney followed her lead effortlessly, working perfectly in sync with her.

"His girlfriend broke up with him last week," one of the friends spoke up, their words distant. "He said he was okay… he said he was okay. I should have…"

"Hey, hey," Bobby started, coming to stand in front of them and lowering himself so he could meet their gaze. "You're here for him now and that's what matters. We're going to do the best we can for him now, and after that, he's going to need to your help. Do you think you can do that for him?"

They nodded numbly, lost in themselves, until finally Hen called out that they had him back.

Eddie brought up the rear as they made their way out of the club, which meant he instantly caught the moment the random drunk guy bumped into Buck and spun on the spot. Eddie surged forward immediately, expecting the worst, but instead of anger, the drunk man narrowed his eyes on Buck for a moment before a massive grin split across his face.

"Is that Evan?" the guy slurred leaning in closer, "little Evan Buckley?"

Buck frowned and took a step back, a confused and wary smile settling on his face. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Shawn! Shawn Harris! Oh, come on, man. You can't tell me you don't remember me!"

But from the way Buck seemed to stiffen, a polite mask falling into place, Eddie could tell that Buck did remember the guy, and those memories weren't necessarily good ones. "Yeah, of course. Shawn… er, yeah."

Shawn's eyes wandered over Buck, his head tilting the side, but before he could say anything else, Bobby called out to them and Eddie place a guiding hand on Buck's shoulder.

"Friend of yours?" Chimney asked once they reached the ambulance, and Eddie couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that had settled over him as he looked back toward the club, searching the crowd for the man.

"Shawn Harris," Buck breathed out, and he looked lost in thought, his face twisted up as he looked toward Chimney. "We, er, we went to high school together."

"Nice guy?"

Buck shook his head. "He was a creep." He looked back toward the club, his eyes taking on a darkened look that was reserved for only a few people – one of them being a distant memory now. Doug. "The guy was obsessed with Maddie. Honestly, I was glad when his family suddenly packed up and left one year. I haven't thought about him since."

"Something tells me he hasn't changed much," Eddie pushed out, trying to push down the urge to go after the guy and warn him away from Buck and his family by whatever means necessary. He hadn't even realised his hand had formed a fist until Buck wrapped his fingers lightly around Eddie's wrist, grounding him.

"Buckley, Diaz, we got a fire on tenth," Bobby called out from the engine. "Hen, Chimney – get there as soon as you can after you've dropped Devon off at the hospital."

And immediately, they were all moving again. Getting back into their places on the chessboard, ready for another go round. It was going to be a long night.

.-.-.-.-.

"Eddie, Buck!" Chimney called out as the pair climbed the stairs to the loft in the firehouse, not even waiting for them to reach the top step before ambushing them. "Settle a debate for us…"

Buck shared a confused and wary look with Eddie, ducking his head under the beam as he approached the others already seated at the table. It was an early Friday morning, and they hadn't long since arrived at the firehouse, the previous shift a faded memory as they focused on what new calls would come that day. "Uh, sure…"

"We all know Michael Myers is what makes the Halloween franchise, right?" Chimney started, and immediately Buck felt regret seeping in.

"Michael, who?" he asked.

Chimney hung his head in defeat. "I forget, you're a Buckley. You've lived a very sheltered life when it comes to movies…"

Buck just smiled and shrugged in response.

"Are you seriously telling me that you've never watched Halloween?" Chimney pushed, seemingly forgetting whatever his original question had been. "Because if you are, that is a serious crime, Buckley. Eddie… help me out here."

Eddie held his hands up in defeat. "We don't exactly get many grown up movie nights when there's a kid in the house."

"Don't blame Chris for your failings."

"Chris wasn't the kid I was talking about," Eddie answered with a scoff, earning him a playful glare from Buck.

"Hey!" Buck protested, but he was quickly distracted by the small red box on the table, tilting his head to look at it. "What's this?"

"We don't know," Hen answered, pushing up from her seat to look over the box from beside Buck. "It was there when we got here."

"For Evan Buckley," Buck read out, lifting the box up to get a better look. "Thank you for saving me."

"You know, usually, the people we save send a thank you to the entire firehouse…" Chimney complained.

Buck frowned and opened the box to reveal a red velvet cupcake inside. His eyes lit up at the sight and he looked to Hen then Eddie, the question in his eyes, asking if they were messing with him. But they shook their heads.

"Looks like you've got a fan," Bobby said, approaching with the trash can and holding it out for Buck.

"Oh, come on, Bobby, it's just one little cupcake," Buck moaned, staring down at it mournfully even as Bobby rattled the can.

"You know the rules, Buck," Bobby said with a pointed gaze. "Unless you want a repeat of the dosed brownies?"

Buck let go of a sigh and grumbled, but relented, dropping the box and the cupcake into the trash. "Fine."

"Right…" Bobby said, moving back toward the kitchen, "who's ready for breakfast?"

.-.-.-.-.

He started up his car, casting one last glance toward the 118 firehouse. He couldn't see much of what was going on inside, not from where he had parked, but he had seen each firefighter enter for the start of their shift, including Evan Buckley.

His phone vibrated at him on his front seat, but he ignored it, the camera roll still visible, showing off the photos he had been able to snap from the distance. The lack of quality irritated him as he made a mental note to invest in a better camera. Though, if he were honest, he was already irritated beforehand. He was irritated the moment the second firefighter climbed out from the passenger side of Buckley's jeep and he was irritated at how close that firefighter got to Buckley.

But it didn't matter, he told himself. The universe had already spoken by bringing Evan Buckley across his path at the Midnight Ace. No one was getting in the way of that.

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A/N: Much more to come...