911/911 Lone Star One Shots

I Need A Hug

The shift had not been going well for Buck. He'd had to jump through the window of a burning house, gotten punched in the face by a combative patient while assisting EMS, been puked on, scratched by a cat who didn't want to be saved, and not to mention the anxiety attack he'd had on his way to work that morning. It was safe to say he was having a bad day.

"Shouldn't you be icing your eye?" Hen gave him a look as he walked into the kitchen where Bobby was starting dinner.

"Already did. Can't you tell? It looks so much better." He spoke sarcastically as he dropped into a stool at the counter.

"Watch the attitude with me, Buckley. I'll kick your ass." Hen threatened lightheartedly, knowing he was just having a crappy day.

"She means it, too. I gave her attitude once and my eye was more bruised than yours." Chimney joked, walking out of the kitchen after grabbing a bottle of water.

"I'll do it again. Try me." She followed him to the couch, turning on the tv.

Bobby looked at Buck sympathetically as he boiled water to cook pasta. "Hasn't been a very good day for you, has it?"

"That's putting it lightly." He sighed, dropping his head to the counter and creating a thump.

Bobby winced at the sound of his head on the surface. "Easy, don't give yourself a concussion to add to it."

"Wouldn't matter anyway." He grumbled, folding his arms to create a pillow to rest his chin on instead. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated."

"I know. Want to talk about it?" He asked, pouring pasta into the pot and stirring it.

"What's there to talk about? You were there, you already know everything." He sighed, watching Bobby cook because it brought a sense of calm over him.

"Doesn't mean I can't listen." He continued to move about the kitchen, his ears trained on Buck as he did.

"I just- I don't know. This day sucks and it doesn't seem to be changing and I'm frustrated and tired and I just- ugh!" He sat up, his fingers tugging at his hair in an attempt to hold back his tears of frustration.

Bobby could tell by his voice he was holding back tears but didn't mention it yet. "You can call it an early shift, if you want. I wanted to send you home hours ago, to be honest."

"No because it's not even just this shift that's bad! I tripped down my stairs, had an anxiety attack driving here, and I'm pretty sure I forgot to lock my door." His voice got tighter as the tears rose closer to the surface.

Bobby's brows furrowed in concern, not knowing about the anxiety attack. He didn't focus on it though, he knew Buck didn't want to. "That is frustrating. You know, you're allowed to cry if you need to."

"No I'm not because it's stupid!" His grip tightened on his hair and Bobby decided to intervene, setting down the spoon he'd been using to stir the pasta and rounding the counter. His hands covered Buck's and gently guided them down to the counter, Buck looking up at him with tears already falling on his face.

"It's not stupid. Let it out. I'd rather you cry in frustration than get in street fights or something because of it."

"Hey!" Eddie called in offense from the couch, half listening to them.

"It's true." Bobby called back to him before refocusing on Buck. "What do you need right now? How can I help you?"

Buck shook his head, tears still falling. Bobby thought he'd tell him to leave him alone but instead he looked back up at him and spoke so softly he could've missed it. "I need a hug."

Bobby smiled softly, pulling Buck to his feet and wrapping his arms around him tightly. "I've got you, kid."

Buck gripped the back of Bobby's shirt and let himself break, his frustration and anger and anxiety pouring out onto Bobby's shoulder.

Hen moved to take over cooking dinner, giving Bobby a look that said 'take care of him, I got this covered.' Bobby nodded to her gratefully before returning his attention to Buck.

Curious eyes were starting to be drawn to Buck but Bobby didn't want him to feel self-conscious. So he did what any dad would do: he picked Buck up with a soft "Come here, kid," and carried him on his hip to his office for privacy.

Hen, Chim, and Eddie exchanged surprised and slightly impressed looks, having never expected their captain to carry their large 6'2" friend on his hip like a child.

Bobby sat down on the couch in his office, Buck tucked against his side still crying against his shoulder. "Has this been a bad day for your anxiety, too?" He asked softly, his arms still around his kid.

Buck nodded with a whimper, keeping his face hidden against the older man.

"I'm here. You're okay, alright? I got you. It's all okay." He assured him, rubbing his back with one hand and playing with his hair with his other.

Buck continued crying for awhile before it reduced to sniffles and shaky breaths. He still didn't pull away from the embrace, though. Rather he leaned further into it, seeking solace against his shoulder.

Bobby didn't mind, and if they didn't get another call all shift, well let's just say it would be an answered prayer. He continued to hold him close, letting him find all the comfort he could give, and within another ten minutes, he was snoring softly against him.

Bobby smiled and briefly thought back to a night when his daughter had been upset as a toddler and this same hold helped put her to sleep. He was grateful he got another chance to be a dad. Settling in, he turned them both so his legs were up on the couch and Buck was nestled between his side and the back of the couch.

Another half hour passed and Eddie knocked softly, peeking his head in to check if they were okay.

"Shh." Bobby raised a finger to his lips before pointing to Buck. "He's alright."

Eddie smiled, knowing that, just like Christopher needed him sometimes, Buck needed his dad, too. "Want me to bring you dinner?" He asked softly so he wouldn't wake Buck.

Bobby shook his head; he had everything he needed right there under his arm.