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: Thank you for reading! I love writing these characters so much.
Set after season 6.
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Chapter 6
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Anger pulsed through Bobby, his jaw tightening as his eyes searched the empty corridor. His instincts drove him forward as he shoved his own phone unceremoniously into his pocket and clung tightly to Buck's phone like it was a lifeline. He could hear Athena calling for him, but he continued on regardless. She caught up with him by the time he had reached the back door of the club.
"Bobby," she tried, her radio in one hand as her other hung loosely by her side, no doubt ready to go for her gun if needed. "Slow down and take a breath."
But Bobby shook his head and eyed the door, attempting to push it open only to find it firmly stuck. "He has Buck."
Who 'he' was, Bobby wasn't entirely sure, but he was beginning to have his suspicions.
He pushed against the door again, then positioned himself in order to get more power, shoving hard with his shoulder until the door finally opened enough for him to squeeze out and into the alley. He only had a chance to spare a quick glare at the dumpster that had been pushed up against the door before the sound of the fire alarm started blaring from inside the club.
He tilted his head in questioning at Athena and she narrowed her eyes before they both raced back inside to see the chaos caused by the alarm. But there was no fire, or at least no signs of a fire that Bobby could see. That was when he spotted the young man near a broken fire alarm, looking more than a little bit nervous as he started trying to make his way through the crowd and toward the exit.
Bobby caught up with him before he made it out, gripping the collar of his shirt and slamming him up against the nearest wall. "Where is he?"
The man stared back with wide and panicked eyes. "I… what… I don't know what you're talking about…"
"Bobby," Athena spoke from beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to coax him into backing off, but Bobby had no intention of doing any such thing. "Let him go."
"Why'd you set the alarm off?" Bobby demanded, his grip tightening along with his jaw, pushing the man further into the wall.
"Some guy paid me a hundred bucks to do it," the man blurted out. "It was just a dare."
At that, Athena pried Bobby away from the man and spun him around so she could cuff his hands behind his back. "Well, I'm sure that hundred bucks will come in handy when it comes to paying your bail."
"What? No!" the man attempted to protest. "I didn't do anything wrong…"
She waved toward a nearby officer and as they approached, she leaned in closer to the man. "It is an offence to knowingly trigger a fire alarm under false pretences and waste emergency services time."
The officer took over, reading the man his rights, but before he could be dragged away, Athena held up her hand and stepped closer.
"Before you go to spend the night in jail, how about you tell me who paid you to trigger the alarm?" She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, watching him with a steady and measured gaze.
"I don't know," the man started, but when Athena took a careful breath, he spluttered. "He, he works behind the bar! That's all I know, I swear."
She sighed and nodded her head toward the officer, allowing them to guide the man toward the exit, then turned back to Bobby, her gaze moving over the now almost empty club.
"He wasn't leaving anything to chance," she said, before cursing under her breath and letting out a long breath. "He wanted to get Buck out of here and create enough of a commotion that once he did, we wouldn't be able to follow him."
Fist so tight it hurt; Bobby tried to steady himself. "We never should have let him do this."
Athena placed her hand around his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll find him, Bobby. You know I won't stop until we do."
-.-.-.-.-
When Chris had asked why Buck wasn't home, Eddie had frozen. Lying to Christopher was not something he had planned on. Hell, he'd been so wrapped up in his own worry over Buck that he hadn't even considered Chris asking such a question. Luckily Hen had chimed in, clapping Eddie on the back as she pushed into the house, followed by Chimney with a couple of bags of takeaway food. She told Chris how Buck was helping Athena out, nothing in her bright eyes and smile betraying the danger behind it all.
Eddie envied both Hen and Chim for that. For the way they could pack their worry away and joke and laugh and pretend that they weren't there to babysit him and stop him from doing anything stupid and reckless. He tried to force a smile onto his face for Christopher's sake, tried to keep somewhat engaged in the conversation, and even tried to force himself to eat. But the food tasted bland, and the worry weighed heavy on his shoulders.
So, when he was in the kitchen taking a breather from the pressure of pretending and his phone buzzed, his heart immediately skittered in his chest as he picked it up and saw Buck's name. He wasn't prepared for the world to tilt on its axis, his breath leaving him at the sound of Buck, followed by a lower, barely audible, voice before the line went dead.
He was grabbing his keys and heading for the door without even thinking. Chimney's voice trailed after him, and he was sure he heard Hen and Chris too, but it all felt distant. Only one thought was on his mind, and that was Buck. He had to get to the club, he had to get to Buck.
The drive was a blur, and he didn't even bother parking properly, barely even thinking to turn off the engine and take the keys with him as he abandoned his truck as close to the club as he could get. There were flashing lights and so much noise, it all pressed in on Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd until he came to the entrance. The officer there immediately stepped in front of him, arms stretched out and blocking him.
"I'm sorry, you can't go in there," the officer said, and Eddie's heart felt choked.
"Let me in," he said with a low growl to his voice, and in that moment, he didn't care that it could be considered assault to push the officer out of the way. Luckily, he didn't need to, Athena's voice ringing out from inside the club, telling the officer to allow him to pass.
Once inside, Eddie headed straight to her and Bobby, the world still very much spinning around him.
"Where is he?" he demanded. "Where's Buck?"
"Eddie," Bobby started, his voice strained and eyes aflame with what Eddie recognised easily as barely concealed anger. "We're working on that."
"Harris was a false lead," Athena explained. "And our true perp took advantage of that."
His chest was growing increasingly tight, a numbness taking hold, starting from his fingertips and spreading out. He tried to clear his throat as he swung to glare at Athena. "He trusted you. We trusted you."
Athena didn't even flinch at his anger, instead she stood there and took it, and Bobby placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder, attempting to draw his attention back there.
"Nobody saw this coming, Eddie," Bobby tried to reason, and Eddie saw his own anger and feelings of guilt reflected in Bobby's face.
"Where is he?" Eddie questioned again, and this time, the words felt like daggers inside his throat and chest, leaving him feeling lightheaded. He could feel his heart beating wildly inside his chest, could feel his breath quickening as he tried to catch it and hold it. His vision wavered, a familiar fuzz spreading over him. "Where…"
But the words wouldn't form, and he was aware of hands on him, guiding him somewhere, voices distant, as if they were trying to break through rushing water.
"Slow and steady," came a calming voice. "Breathe for me, Eddie. In deep and hold it. One… Two… Three… Four… And out. One… Two… Three… Four. In… One… Two… Three… Four. And out…"
His vision was clearing toward the end of the second count, his chest obeying the commands that he now recognised as coming from Chimney. He was aware that he was sitting now, bent forward slightly, Chimney's hand on his shoulder, helping to ground him. Chimney stayed like that, counting with Eddie until Eddie closed his eyes and felt he had control once more, or at least some form of control.
"Eddie?" Bobby questioned, worry thick on the name.
"Panic attack," Chimney explained, offering a small supportive smile to Eddie. "Just take it easy, buddy, we've got you."
"How did you…" Eddie started, almost fearing the answer.
"I overheard you and Buck one time." Chimney shrugged. "It's a small firehouse."
But before Eddie could fully allow his mind to calm, another thought entered it and he swallowed hard, looking Chim dead in the eye. "Chris…"
"Chris is fine. He's with Hen." Chimney patted Eddie on the shoulder and pushed to his feet. "She'll stay the night if she has to, already cleared it with Karen."
Eddie could only nod, unable to put his thanks into words in that moment. For the first time since entering the club, he truly looked around and took it all in. The lights were on low, several officers working in different areas, some talking to people, some on crowd control near the entrance, and a couple near the bar.
"You said Harris was a false lead," Eddie finally said, forcing himself to look at Athena, and though he knew rationally that it wasn't her fault, it was easier to put the blame on her. Just like it was easier to blame himself for not being there. Hell, there was even a part of him that cursed Buck for going along with it. But he knew it was illogical and guilt burned at him for those stray thoughts circling his mind. "How do we… How can you be sure?"
"He's dead," Bobby supplied. "They found him about an hour ago."
"Then where's Buck? If it isn't Harris doing all of this, who is it?"
Bobby shared a look with Athena before continuing. "We have a suspect, and they're working on tracking him down. We'll find Buck, Eddie."
Eddie pushed up from the chair and shook his head. "Who is it?"
Chimney placed his hand on Eddie's arm, looking between him and Bobby. "Come one, Eddie. We've got to let them do their job."
Them being the cops, them being Romero and Athena and everyone else in the club who had been there supposedly watching over Buck whilst he put himself at risk. Who had been there to keep Buck safe. If they couldn't do that, how were they going to find him before he… before something…
He took a breath and attempted to shake the dark thoughts from his head. He spared one last look to Athena and stormed from the club, feeling Chimney following closely behind. His head still spun, the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles not helping the anxiety pushing in on him. It wasn't until he spotted the familiar 118 truck and a member from the B team that something clicked into place, and he narrowed his eyes, gaze moving toward the alley that led to the back of the club.
He was moving immediately, ignoring Chimney's hushed calls as Chimney chased after him.
"Eddie," Chim hissed. "What are you doing? I don't think we're supposed to be back here."
But once Eddie came to the back of the club and took in the damage that remained from the fire from before, he had already made up his mind that he was not going to be leaving this up to the police.
"We're the nearest firehouse, right?" Eddie questioned, moving closer to the wall and the black smudges that stained it.
"I don't… I guess so," Chimney answered, but Eddie could tell that his frustration was giving way to curiosity. "Why?"
"What if someone set the fire the other night knowing the 118 would attend? Knowing Buck would be there."
"But why here? There's gotta be a dozen places closer to the firehouse that would have been better."
"Except they don't work there."
Chimney narrowed his eyes on Eddie. "Who?"
"That first night we were here, that bartender had called 911. And he was here again on the night of the fire. But tonight, he's not here?"
"We don't know that," Chimney countered. "He could be being questioned somewhere. It could be his night off."
Eddie eyed up the slightly open back door, already taking a step toward it. "There's one way we can find out."
Chimney took a breath and shook his head, then held his hands up, relenting. "Just so you know, I think this is a bad idea."
-.-.-.-.-
Buck was no stranger to hangovers, and he was certainly no stranger to waking up with blank spaces where memories of a night of drinking should have been. But that had been back when he was young and stupid, when being blackout drunk meant you'd had not just a good night, but a great one. But this wasn't like that.
He wasn't exactly sure what it was, or why his head spun so much it made him feel like he was moving when he was sure he wasn't, or why he felt like he was both floating and being weighed down by lead all at once. Even his eyelids were heavy, making forcing them open a chore that he regretted as soon as the bright light from overhead hit him, setting off a wave of nausea. Pure reflex had him turning onto his side as his stomach threatened to empty its contents, but it settled at the last most and he found himself staring at a fuzzy image of what looked to be a grey concrete floor.
Blinking, he forced himself to take in his surroundings through squinted eyes. A single lightbulb swinging overhead, illuminating the small concrete room as best it could. There wasn't much to look at, not beyond the mattress and twisted bedframe he lay on and the bare walls that were cracked in places, and what looked to be a single metal door, and a shadow looming in the corner of the room.
"You're not looking so good, kid," the shadow spoke to him, stepping forward and into the light, revealing a familiar but dishevelled outline.
"Bobby?" Buck questioned, trying his best to focus his eyes and take in the tall man with his hands shoved into the pockets of jeans, head tilted as he looked over Buck.
The figure turned up its face and made a noise that Buck took to mean no. Buck attempted to sit up, only for his hand to slip. His shoulder hit something hard, and he was aware that it should have hurt, but everything felt numb and distant, like a…
"I'm dreaming," Buck breathed out, realising where he knew the Bobby in front of him from. It was the same Bobby that had come to him in his coma.
"Not quite," the not-Bobby answered. "You're awake for one."
Buck frowned at that, but when he finally managed to push up enough to swing his legs over the side of what was attempting to be a bed, memories flashed through his mind. Bright and colourful lights, music loud and pulsing, and something happened… Something bad. His hand moved up to the back of his neck and he could feel a small and slightly painful bump.
He remembered a sharp sting, remembered attempting to fight back against someone, he remembered… he remembered everything. All the way from playing bait and getting caught. He remembered the feel of the drugs already in his system from his spiked drinks, and he remembered the bite of the needle that pushed more in.
"You're not real," Buck said, unsure if it was an accusation or realisation, his gaze moving over his surroundings and taking them in with much more clarity than before. "But this is. You're a hallucination…"
"Bingo," not-Bobby called with false cheer. "I knew you'd get there eventually, kid."
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A/N: More soon...
