In Flames // 9-1-1 Fox (seasons 1-4)

forty-seven

If there was anything scarier than Mariana Ramirez yelling at you, it was when she was deadly silent. Eddie had asked her to stay the night before work because he felt reassured to know she was okay and that request unfortunately bit him in the ass that night. She entered the house at one in the morning absolutely fuming and deadly silent. She hung her purse up and placed her shoes in the cubby like usual, but he could see the rage radiating off of her.

Eddie didn't even know what to do or to say. What was she the most angry about: the fighting or the lying? He knew he fucked up, he really did.

"Sit on the couch and take your shirt off," she finally said, a tone of finality oozing from her words. As she disappeared into the bedroom, he followed her directions and waited for her to reappear. Mariana emerged dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts instead of her scrubs and she was carrying one of her many first aid kits. She kneeled down in front of him on the couch and wordlessly began to peel back the shoddy bandages he had taped to his torso.

She worked diligently and patiently, ensuring that he felt minimal pain as her fingers skimmed over bruises while applying lotion and her palms pressed against his abdomen as she taped on new gauze patches.

She was so gentle that he almost didn't realize that her shoulders were trembling. He instantly cupped her cheeks with his hands and drew her eyes up to meet his, a sorrowful and guilty look in his eyes.

"I should have seen you were in pain," she whispered. "But I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn't even think about you. And now you're hurt o-or you're hurting and I didn't see it. Do you know how dangerous that was? That could have been you in the ICU. Eddie, the 118 needs you and Christopher needs you and I need you."

He drew her up and onto the couch with him, settling her legs on either side of his hips so she was straddling his lap. Mariana dropped her head to rest on his shoulder, her shaky breaths casting a hot reminder on his skin of her fear.

"I didn't want to hurt you or scare you or make you leave. After Shannon's death, I pulled back because I couldn't let myself feel the pain of losing you too. And then the truck happened and I almost lost you regardless. And then the tsunami and I just...I couldn't breathe."

She raised her head so she could see him properly. "Tell me everything."

And he did. He told her everything from Shannon's death to the truck bombing and the tsunami and Christopher's nightmares and the anger he felt at the world and how he started fighting and he liked it. Mariana listened intently, asking questions and pressing random kisses to his jaw and brow. He softened under her touch and found that the words came out easier as she assured him with her touch.

"Are you mad?" he asked.

"I was. But now I'm more concerned. You're going to have to see a therapist, you know that right?"

"Whatever it takes. After I saw what I did to that guy..."

"Edmundo, that could be you in the ICU right now. I literally just explained to Buck that I can't lose you, any of you, but especially you. I can't put it into words but you know."

He lowered his lips to hers and brushed a feather light kiss against her skin and the corner of her lips. "I know. I know. I'm sorry."

"Just don't do it again. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Y'know...I'm kinda the queen of unhealthy coping mechanisms," Mariana sighed out, her fingers tangling in his short hair. He let out a snort, burying his face against her collarbone. She pulled back, a thoughtful expression on her face as her hand came up to cup his cheek.