AN: Ok. This is my first time diving into the universe of 911 but I love the show and I love the characters so...here we go. No, this does not mean that I will not be working on my other stories. However, this story would not leave me alone so I had to get it down on paper. Rated for mature themes. Trigger warnings for PTSD, anxiety and panic attacks. And I love comments and constructive criticism!

Chapter 1

"What the hell was that, Buck?" Eddie exclaimed as he jumped down from the engine and followed after the other man's swiftly retreating form, his pace quickening at the lack of response. He grabbed Buck's arm, pulling it back slightly so that he could cut him off. "Seriously, man, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that someone had to do it. It might as well have been me."

"It wasn't secured. You could have fallen."

"There wasn't time." Buck pulled his hand from Eddie's grasp and brushed past him.

"The hell there wasn't. What were we supposed to do if the rope had slipped?"

"You move on."

"Excuse me?" Eddie replied incredulously. "Move on. Are you serious?"

"You don't understand," Buck stated, turning toward his locker and roughly pulling it open.

"Then make me understand." Eddie exclaimed, letting the door slam shut behind him.

"Everyone leaves. Everyone." He bowed his head, staring sightlessly at his few belongings hanging before him. "Maddie, Abby, Ali, Chimney. I saw Taylor pulling away so I left her just so I wouldn't wind up being the one left behind again…Even you left."

Eddie paused, leaning against the door, his voice softening. "We've talked about this. I left my job. I would never leave you."

Buck laughed humorlessly, grabbing a clean shirt and pulling it roughly over his head. "I'm not talking about quitting your job. I understand why you left but, Eddie, ever since…" his voice faded away slightly before he shook himself and continued, "Ever since you got shot, you've done nothing but walk away." Slamming his locker he began to pace the room, arms waving in agitation as he continued, "And I get it, I really do…"

"I'm right here!"

"Really, Eddie." Buck finally turned toward him. "You won't talk to me, you're barely even willing to look at me. I can't even remember the last time that we did something together without Chris. Not that I don't love Chris to death but I…" His voice trailed off as he looked away once more, arms wrapped protectively across his stomach. "I just…want to know what I did wrong," his voice soft as he continued, barely a whisper and Eddie almost missed it.

"You didn't do anything," Eddie stated, stepping toward the other man, wincing as Buck immediately takes another step backward. "I'm working on my problems, Buck but they're my problems. It has nothing to do with you, I promise."

"How can it not? Look at everyone that's left, Eddie. There's one constant; one thread that connects them all together."

There was silence for several moments before Eddie answered him. "Buck..."

Buck nodded slowly, clearing his throat. "Me. I'm the common factor. I'm the frayed line. I just…wish I knew why."

Eddie rushed forward, hands landing gently on the sides of Buck's face as he tilted it toward him. "Look at me," he said softly, voice rough with emotion. When he received no response, he repeated loudly, "Damn it, Evan, look at me." Blue eyes finally met brown and he continued, "None of that is on you. None of it. Maddie left because she needed help and Chimney went to find her, that's all. They will come back. Abby, Ali and Taylor just weren't the right one for you and that is not your fault. And I…I'm fucked up Buck. I have so many problems that I'm trying to deal with and I don't want to force them on you. I know that if I let you in, that's exactly what will happen."

"What if I want you to?"

Eddie sighed, hands dropping to rest on Buck's shoulders and squeezing slightly. "Buck I…" They both startled slightly as the alarm blares through the locker room. "We're not done," he stated before turning and running from the room, Buck trailing only a second behind him.

"As the sun sets on the sixth day since the latest in a string of arsons across the city, the public is being urged to report any suspicious activity and to be on alert."

Eddie quickly turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the low coffee table before turning away. "Some of us were watching that," Chimney protested, turning and watching the other man walk away.

"We're living it, we don't need to listen to it too."

"It is kind of odd though, don't you think?" Buck cut in, handing Eddie a fresh cup of coffee before leaning against the railing next to him. "Four fires, each seven days apart. There's been a strip mall, a warehouse, a convenient store and a home. So far the only links the police have found have been the timing, the accelerant and the fact that one person has been reported missing from every location. They're all different types of structures, each in vastly different parts of the city. Do you think there's something significant about the seven days?"

"Maybe it's just their favorite number." Chimney replied, turning back toward the blank tv screen.

"Or, you know there are a lot of ways that the number seven can be considered significant. A lot of people find it to be a lucky number and, I mean in this case you could definitely say it's been unlucky for everyone involved but, in numerology the number seven is said to represent the quest for knowledge and it has significance in almost every major religion. I mean, even in Christianity the number seven can have some significance because of…"

"I doubt the fires have anything to do with the bible, Buck, and I can't see someone setting fires in order to bring knowledge."

"Right," Buck's voice trailed off slightly. "Sorry." He felt Eddie's shoulder press against his and smiled softly, leaning into the comfort of the touch

"The targets almost seem random," Chimney continues.

"No way," Eddie cuts in. "Whoever they are, they definitely planned ahead."

"What makes you say that?"

"They needed time to pour the accelerant so they had to know that the building's occupants were either asleep or otherwise occupied. That takes planning."

"Not to mention the smoke alarms," Buck continued. "Every building was equipped with at least a basic household smoke alarm and yet every single one malfunctioned."

"Definitely not a coincidence," Eddie continued before taking a long drink of his coffee.

"Could be a link between the people who have gone missing," Hen stated as she took a seat on the couch next to Chimney.

"If there is, no one's reported on it."

Buck had pulled a clean shirt over his head as he walked over to the fridge, pausing at the sound of a knock at the door. "Eddie," his eyes widened slightly at the sight of his friend in the hallway. "What are you doing here?" He backed out of the way to allow him to enter, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

"I told you we weren't done talking yet."

"And you decided that ten o'clock at night was the best time to continue this? Where's Christopher?"

Eddie turned, leaning against the island and crossing his arms, "When else are we supposed to, Buck? You said it yourself, the only time we even see each other outside of work is when you come by to hang out with Christopher." Buck opened his mouth to cut in and Eddie quickly cut him off, "I'm not blaming you. Hell, it's probably all my fault. So, Christopher is having a sleepover and I am damn well going to fix this."

"I think we can both probably take some of the blame," Buck replied, finally catching Eddie's eye. "You were pulling away and I was so terrified of pushing you even farther that I couldn't bring myself to reach out; couldn't make myself force my way in."

Eddie nodded, eyes falling to the floor before him. "I don't remember much about the shooting. I don't remember the pain, I don't remember falling or how I got to the hospital. I get snippets when I sleep, but I don't know what's real and what is just my mind trying to fill in the blanks." His arms tightened around his torso as he continued, voice softening, "The only thing that I remember clearly is you. You were leaning over me with blood on your face and I was so worried that you were hurt."

"You asked if I was."

He looked up once more, eyes catching the guarded blue of his best friend. "I see your eyes every time I close mine. Wide and terrified and full of so much pain. I didn't want to be the one to make you look like that again; to make you feel that all over. So I just…never talked about it."

"I feel it anyway, Eds. Every time I try to sleep. I see you fall, feel the warmth of your blood on my face. I can still taste it." Buck's eyes widened as he paled drastically. "You were talking and suddenly you stopped and I felt it spray across my face and I just froze. You fell and there was so much blood and all I wanted to do was…was fall with you, to protect you but, I…I couldn't make myself move. It was like watching the worst horror movie. There was so much blood and I couldn't…I couldn't…"

Buck didn't see when Eddie pushed off the island. The movement didn't register until he felt hands on his shoulder, steadying him. "Breathe Buck." Blue eyes met those of the man before him and Buck realized he was gasping, hands shaking and legs so weak he would have fallen if it had not been for Eddie holding him up against the door. He grabbed a shaking hand, placing it firmly on his chest. "Breathe with me Buck. Come on…Feel that? I'm right here."

Several minutes passed as Buck fought to control his breathing and match it to the man before him. His head fell gently forward, meeting that of the slightly shorter man. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

Neither of them paid any mind to how long they stood together, both trembling slightly, the only sound there deep breathing.

"Maybe we should sit for this conversation."

Buck couldn't help the laugh that escaped at Eddie's quiet words. "Might be a good idea."

Eddie backed up and gestured for Buck to head over before walking to the fridge and grabbing each of them a bottle of beer. Handing Buck a bottle, he sat down beside him, their shoulders pressed tightly together and waited for him to continue.

"I guess there was a second shot. I didn't hear it but, next thing I know Mehta's pushing me to the ground." He paused to take a long drink. "I…I still couldn't look away from you. You moved your arm. Al…almost like you were reaching out for me; begging me to help you. I heard the third shot when it hit the truck. It was almost like, until that moment, time just stood still. Then Mehta moved off of me and I just reacted. I rolled under the truck and crawled to you. I couldn't stop picturing you getting shot and all I kept thinking is that I couldn't let it happen again. I had to stop it from happening again."

"Buck…" Eddie began, only to pause and Buck quickly shook his head, rubbing his free hand over his face. Eddie pretended he couldn't see the tears in his friend's eyes; couldn't feel them on his own.

"You rolled onto your back and the only thing I could reach was your injured arm. I pulled you under the truck and, damn it Eds, the screams. I knew I was making it worse but I had to…I couldn't just leave you there." He paused, taking several deep breaths and another long drink before he continued, "I picked you up and lifted you into the truck and we got you to the hospital as fast as we could. You looked up at me and asked if I was hurt." Buck finally looked over at him, eyes wide and rimmed red with tears. "You were bleeding out under my hands and you asked if I was alright."

Eddie set his bottle on the table before them and turned to face the man beside him, "I don't remember anything between feeling something hit my shoulder and looking up at you inside the truck. I don't remember you pulling me under the truck or screaming from you doing it but, Buck, you saved me."

"I froze."

"I've seen soldiers on the battlefield freeze the first time they see one of their own fall. Soldiers. Men and women who are trained to shoot and be shot at in a warzone. No one knows how they're going to react in that situation until it happens. No one." He grabbed Buck by the shoulders and turned him to face him. "We were supposed to be safe. We were standing in broad daylight on a quiet street in L.A, not in a warzone, not even in a dangerous part of the city. It should have been safe. Your mind needed a moment to catch up with what it was seeing, and that's alright. Once it did, you did everything you could to make sure that I made it out of there and I don't think I've ever told you how incredibly grateful I am for that."

Buck sniffled softly before chuckling. "You sound like my therapist."

Eddie smiled. "I told you I've been getting help for my own shit." Picking up his bottle once more he turned and leaned back into the couch. "Have you talked to Dr. Copeland about it?"

"A bit."

They both sit in silence for several minutes before Buck continues. "Eddie I…I don't want to have to live in a world if you aren't in it."