(A 911 Buddie Fic) You Were Made From Scars

Chapter 7

Buck splashed water on his face and looked up at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking in what he could see in the early morning light. He ran a finger over his now cleanshaven jaw before moving up to brush at the mark above his eye and further until his fingers brushed through his now shortened hair. He almost looked like the man from the photo Maddie had shown him. Almost.

Except that man had the brightest grin spread across his face and eyes that lit up.

"There you are," Maddie had said, after helping him cut his hair and beard, her eyes shining as the palm of her hand lingered against his cheek.

He had hoped that if he looked like the Buck in the photos again, he would start to remember who that person was, start to remember what it was like to be him. But instead, he felt like an imposter, a fraud.

He closed his eyes briefly and forced himself out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The grey light of the morning guided him, and he took a seat at the table with his glass, taking a long swig before placing the glass down and staring out at what he could see of the yard through the glass windows. But his mind was focused elsewhere, lost in the nightmare that still had him tight in its grip.

Christopher.

He had talked about the dream so much in his sessions with Dr Trent, or at least what he could remember of them. Every time it was the same. Every single time. And he would wake up screaming the name of what felt like a ghost of a memory. But this was the first time he remembered what that name was.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and breathed out. Was it just wishful thinking? A memory planted by the photos Maddie had shown him?

"Couldn't sleep?" Bobby's voice drew his attention toward the hallway and Buck cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." He sunk a little in his seat, wrapping a hand around his glass and staring down into the water.

"You didn't," Bobby answered, but Buck snorted, hearing the lie loud and clear. "Okay, maybe you did... but I have to be up anyway. Work starts in... err... three hours."

Buck didn't answer, just smiled slightly and twirled his glass. He was still twirling it when Bobby joined him at the table with a glass of water of his own.

He and Athena had been quiet the night before when they had returned, and he hadn't missed the way they watched him carefully, with a sense of sadness in their eyes. They didn't explain and he didn't want to pry. Not yet, anyway. After spending most of his day with Maddie, he had taken comfort in the warmth she left behind and he wasn't ready to have that shattered just yet. Except, his mind and the dreams had other plans.

"You want to talk about it?" Bobby asked, and Buck could feel his eyes on him.

"I have these dreams," Buck answered after a beat. "I'm underwater and I can't breathe, and the water is too fast, and I can't swim. But that's not the worst part."

"It's not?"

Buck shook his head and straightened up. "I'm not alone. There's somebody else there that I'm supposed to be protecting and I can't get to them..."

He didn't miss the way Bobby shifted in his seat, head tilting slightly to the side, shoulders tensing. "And this somebody else? Do you know who they are?"

"I could never remember."

"Could never? Does that mean you remember now?"

"Yes... no. I don't... I don't know." Buck took a breath and leaned forward over his glass. "Maybe? I just, I don't understand."