Promises | Eddie Diaz
Summary: When during the blackout Harry gets abducted by Jeffrey Hudson, (Y/n) spots him, but brings herself in danger too. Athena and the 118 do everything they can, to find the both of them. But time is running out.
TW ‼️: Abduction, buried alive, violence/assault, weapons, chemicals, emotional and psychological Trauma, blood, injuries, death (threats), high stress situations, powerlessness, bit of fluff
Request: Anonymous
Wordcount: 10,4k
NOTE: This story contains a storyline from The rookie's "day of death" and is mixed with "desperate measures" from 9-1-1.
9-1-1 Masterlist | Eddie Diaz Masterlist
GIF by @emziess
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
The firehouse was busy in the way it always was when they weren’t on scene.
It smelled like coffee and cleaning supplies. The bay doors were open, sunlight spilling in while Buck pushed a broom across the floor. Chimney and Hen were in the kitchen, arguing about whose turn it was to wash dishes. Something clinked loudly as Chimney dropped a plate into the sink on purpose, just to annoy her.
(Y/n) stood at the table, wiping it down with a rag, while Eddie leaned against the counter beside her, arms crossed, boots crossed at the ankles. He wasn’t helping. He rarely did when she was around, he just stayed close, like that was his contribution.
“You know,” she said without looking at him, “you could grab a cloth and actually help.” Eddie let out a quiet laugh. “I am helping.” he said. She glanced up at him, unimpressed. “I’m supervising.” he added, motioning with his hands like it has been super obvious what he’d been doing.
She shook her head, lips twitching despite herself. She reached for the spray bottle, and Eddie moved without thinking, stepping back just enough so she could lean across the counter. His hand brushed her wrist, it was barely there, accidental, but it lingered half a second too long.
They both noticed. Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight. (Y/n) focused very hard on the table. Neither of them said anything, but the moment settled between them.
A familiar shadow appeared through the open station doors. “Morning, Cap!” Buck said energetic as Bobby passed him on the bay floor. “Hey, Bobby,” Hen called out from the kitchen.
(Y/n) turned with the rest of them as the captain kept quiet. Bobby walked in, and something was wrong. Everybody in the room sensed it.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t answer. His shoulders were tight, his steps sharp against the floor. He moved straight through the bay like he had somewhere else he needed to be, somewhere far away from all of them.
The room slowly went quiet. (Y/n) felt it in her chest first, a strange tightening. She watched the way Bobby’s jaw clenched as he reached the loft, the way his eyes didn’t quite focus on anything around him.
He headed into the kitchen.
Eddie straightened beside her. Buck stopped sweeping. Chimney trailed off mid-sentence.
Bobby reached up for the cabinet above the sink. The pans inside were tangled together, hooks caught and clanking softly as he tried to pull one free. He pulled once. pulled twice. The sound was small, but the tension wasn’t.
“Damn it,” Bobby snapped. He yanked the pan harder, then shoved the cabinet door closed with a loud bang that echoed through the entire station. One of the pans slipped loose anyway and crashed onto the floor. No one moved.
Every single one’s eyes were focussed on Bobby now. Hen stepped forward carefully. “Bobby?” she asked, voice gentle. “Hey is everything okay?”
Bobby turned to face them. His eyes were red. Not from crying, but from exhaustion. Underneath was something raw and sharp, like he’d already lost something and was still standing anyway.
“Harry’s been kidnapped.” He said.
The words landed like a punch. Then Bobby turned away and walked toward the stairs.
No one spoke. They just watched him go, boots heavy against each step, and eventually the door to his office slammed shut.
Silence fell over the station like a heavy blanket. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the hum of the coffee machine seemed too loud in the quiet.
(Y/n) felt Eddie shift beside her. His arm brushed hers. It wasn’t a hug, not a reach for comfort. Just a fleeting touch that lingered a heartbeat too long. Presence. Awareness. Like he needed to know she was still there, like even being near her could shield her from the storm he knew was coming.
She didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But the small connection grounded them both for a fraction of a second, even as the reality of Bobby’s words pressed down on them.
“Oh my God,” Hen whispered, finally breaking the silence. Chimney shook his head slowly, disbelief written across his face. Buck stared at the stairs. “D-did.. he say Harry?” He asked.
(Y/n) swallowed hard. She could feel the knot in her stomach tightening. Eddie’s eyes met hers for a brief second, concern flashing across his face. “This isn’t just a blackout anymore,” she said quietly.
Eddie nodded once. “No,” he agreed. “It’s not.” he added, and pushed himself off the counter and walked away from the kitchen.
_
The loft was quiet, the only sound was the soft squeaks of her shoes on the floor and the hum of the lights of the firehouse.
(Y/n) swung her bag over her shoulder, checking one last time that she hadn’t forgotten anything. The shift had been long, twelve hours of calls, alarms, and constant tension. Not only the tension on call, but also the tension between the team and Bobby. They weren’t sure whether he was going to let the emotions take over the calls or if he was able to push the emotions aside.
Hen leaned against the railing, arms crossed, her face tired but warm. “Text me when you get home, okay?” she said softly, just like she always told her to. (Y/n) nodded. “I will.”
Buck was by the kitchen counter, sipping the last of his coffee. “Don’t get yourself into trouble on the way out,” he teased. “Seriously,” Chimney said, holding up a hand. “Promise you’ll call if anything feels wrong.” He added. She smiled faintly and nodded. “Guys, I’ll be fine. I promise.” she said.
They shared quiet smiles, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. After twelve hours of chaos, it was impossible not to be aware of everyone around you. “I’m heading out,” she said finally, grabbing her bag and hanging the strap over her shoulder.
Hen reached up and pulled her into a brief hug. “This blackout’s got me uneasy. Just be careful, okay?” “Always,” (Y/n) replied. Buck gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You hear that? Always. No exceptions.”
(Y/n) walked toward the stairs, her steps echoing through the firehouse as she left the loft and headed towards the firehouse door.
She stepped out of the door, and that’s where she stopped moving. Eddie was leaning against the brick wall of the station, boots planted firmly on the sidewalk. He was in uniform, sleeves rolled up, the LAFD bomberjacket unzipped. He looked as tired as anyone, but alert. His hands were tucked into his pockets, he hadn’t moved since she came up to the loft, it almost looked like he’d been waiting for her to exit the building.
“Hey,” she said softly as she came to a stop. Eddie turned, and for a fraction of a second, the world seemed to shrink to the space between them. “Hey,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall. She shifted the weight of the duffle on her shoulder “Long night?” she asked.
“Long,” he said. His gaze flicked back to the street, then returned to her. “Everything okay?” he asked her. She nodded, though the weight of the day pressed on her chest. “Yeah. Just… ready to get home.” she sighed.
He nodded, silent for a moment, then stepped a little closer and fished a flashlight out of his pocket. “I’ll walk you.” he said, already in the starting blocks to walk towards her car.
But she wasn’t moving. (Y/n) glanced at him, “You don’t have to…” she said, Eddie turned around to face her again. “I know.” he replied, “but I want to.” he added and motioned his head in the direction of her car.
He offered a small, almost invisible smile, and together they started walking down the sidewalk. The street was quiet, the flashlight swept across cracked pavement and parked cars.Neither of them spoke for a small moment. The only sound was the soft crunch of their boots on the pavement. The streets were calmer than the night before, but the tension lingered, sirens in the distance, voices echoing somewhere down the block.
They walked in silence until they reached her car. She turned to face him, keys clenched loosely in her hand. “Any updates on Harry?” she asked quietly, trying to make this moment somehow less awkward.
Eddie shook his head. “Not yet.” Her chest tightened at the answer and her eyes fell to the ground. “Bobby…” she sighed. “He’s barely holding it together,” Eddie said. His jaw tensed. “We all are.” he added.
She nodded, swallowing. “I keep thinking about Harry.” she replied. “So do I,” Eddie said. There was something in his voice… low, steady, but exhausted. Like the weight of it all was pressing directly against his ribs. “He’s just a kid,” she said.
“I know.”
She sighed as she unlocked her car and opened the door to the backseat to drop her duffle. After, she got into the driver’s seat. Eddie leaned onto her door for a second as she buckled her seatbelt. With one arm up to give them a light source, he glanced at her then, almost unconsciously, and added, “You.. be careful on your way home, okay?”
She looked at him, and for a brief moment, she saw something deeper behind the tired, steady firefighter he tried to be. She could see concern. Care. Something he didn’t usually show. “I will,” she promised.
Eddie gently closed the door of her car. He didn’t rush. He stood there, arms relaxed, waiting until she started the engine. She opened her window. “I mean it,” he said softly, just before she pulled away. “If there’s anything wrong. Anything at all.. call. Don’t wait.”
She gave him a small nod, feeling the weight of his words. “I promise.” she said. And with that, she closed her window and left the parking lot. He watched her drive off, flashlight still in hand, until she disappeared around the corner. Eddie’s eyes lingered on the street long after her taillights faded.
______
The bell above the corner store door chimed softly as (Y/n) stepped back outside with a few groceries in a bag. The night air felt colder than before, maybe even quieter.
She adjusted the weight of the bag in her hands and started walking towards her car, keys already threaded between her fingers. The streetlights flickered, casting uneven pools of light across the pavement.
Halfway down the block, something made her slow down in her steps. A man stood near the mouth of a narrow side street, half in shadow, half in light.
He wasn’t walking. He wasn’t looking around. He was waiting.
The shape of his face. The way his shoulders were set. The stillness that felt wrong in a city that never truly stopped moving. Her stomach dropped.
It’s him.
Her hand shook as she pulled out her phone. Eddie’s voice rang through her head as she was reminded of what he said a few minutes ago. “If there’s anything wrong. Anything at all.. call. Don’t wait.”
Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking, but she managed to tap Eddie’s contact and pressed her phone to her ear. The call rang, ringing once. Twice. Every second felt like minutes at this point. “Come on,” she whispered under her breath.
The ringing stopped. “You’ve reached the voicemail of-”
“Shit,” she hissed, ending the call quickly. Her heart was pounding now, loud enough she was sure he could hear it. She turned away, pretending to scroll, and started walking faster toward the main street.
She didn’t wait. She couldn’t. So she called the one and only number that would pick up. She dialed 9-1-1.
“911, what’s your emergency?” a calm voice answered the phone. The sound of it made her chest tighten even more.
“May?” she whispered. There was a pause. “Yes? who is this?”
“It’s (Y/n),” she said quickly. “From Firehouse 118.” she added. “(Y/n)?” May’s voice sharpened with concern as soon as she realized who was on the other side of the line.. “What’s going on?” May asked.
“I- I think I just saw him,” she said with a small stutter, while ducking behind a parked car, but her eyes never left the alley. “Jeffrey Hudson.” she whispered.
May didn’t hesitate. “Okay. You did the right thing. Stay with me. Where are you?” she asked. (Y/n) gave the location, breathing shallow and fast. “I tried calling Eddie. He didn’t pick up.” she breathed.
“It’s okay. I’m here now,” May said firmly. “Can you see him?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you get visual confirmation? A photo, maybe?” May asked her now. (Y/n) hesitated, but then slowly lifted her phone. She opened the camera app, and made sure Jeffrey was in the picture. Then, when she clicked to take a picture, the flash went off.
White light exploded through the dark. Her blood turned cold. She put her hand with the phone down, “Oh God. May, I-” She choked on her words. She peeked around the car, to check if he was still there. But the moment she looked, he was gone. And that’s when she turned and ran as fast as she could. Leaving her groceries where she had been.
“(Y/n), stay with me,” May said urgently. “What’s happening?” she continued, confused by the sounds she got through the phone. She didn’t answer. Her breath came in short gasps as she cut down the sidewalk, shoes slapping hard against the concrete. She glanced back once.The alley was empty.
Her pulse spiked as she ran, but then she looked forward again and nearly collided with him, but stopped in time. Her eyes were full of terror. He was right there in front of her. He knew what she’d done.
She stumbled back, the phone slipping from her hand in her movement. The phone hit the ground with a sharp crack, skidding across the pavement. The screen fractured, but stayed lit. “(Y/n)?” May’s voice echoed faintly from the speaker. “(Y/n), talk to me!”
She scrambled for the phone, fingers brushing the broken screen. A hand grabbed a fist full of her hair, she screamed it out. Fighting, kicking. Anything to try and break free from him.
The call stayed connected, and the street went terrifyingly quiet. May heard everything.
-
The engine rolled back into the station just after midnight.
The bay doors lifted slowly, rubber of the tires groaning as the truck eased inside. The noise of the city dulled as soon as the doors shut behind them, replaced by the familiar echo of boots on concrete.
“Alright,” Bobby said, already unbuckling. “Keep your gear close. We could get another call any second.” he ordered as he placed his turnout gear in the turnout rack.
Buck hopped down first, tugging his jacket free and tossing it toward the rack. Chimney followed, rolling his shoulders as he walked. Hen pulled off her gloves, exhaustion written over her face.
Eddie climbed out last. As his boots hit the floor, he reached into his pocket out of habit. His phone buzzed softly as the screen lit up.
One missed call. (Y/n).
His breath caught in his throat as he read her name. He stared at the screen, thumb hovering. She never called this late unless something was wrong. He turned slightly away from the others, already lifting the phone to start and dialing the number…
The radio crackled.
“One eighteen… this is dispatch.” May’s voice cut through the bay.
Everyone froze. Bobby’s head snapped up. “Dispatch, this is Captain Nash. Go ahead.” he spoke into his radio.
There was a brief pause. Static. Then.. “Captain Nash,” May said, her voice controlled but strained, “we need you back out immediately.” she continued.
Eddie stopped moving, “What’s going on?” Bobby asked, while his team gathered around him. “We received a 9-1-1 call,” May said. “From (Y/n).” The words were like a hit to the face.
Buck turned sharply, grabbing his radio and brought it to his mouth. “From (Y/n)?” he asked, confused. “Yes,” May confirmed. “She reported a possible sighting of Jeffrey Hudson.”
The name sucked the air out of the room. Hen’s hand flew to her mouth. Chimney swore under his breath. Eddie’s grip tightened around his phone, his eyes were locked onto the floor as he focussed on the conversation.
“Where is she now?” Bobby asked, voice steady. Noise took over the conversation as the other side of the line was silent. “We lost contact.” May spoke again, but this time quieter.
“The call is still open,” May added quickly. “Her phone was dropped, but the line is open.” Bobby’s jaw tightened. “What did you hear?” he asked, genuinely concerned for her.
May swallowed, they could hear it. “She was running,” she said. “She screamed. There was a struggle.”
Eddie’s vision tunneled. The missed call glared back at him from the screen. “One call…” he whispered, so softly no one heard.
Bobby didn’t hesitate. “Dispatch, send us the phone’s last known location. Notify LAPD and Athena Grant immediately. We’re responding.” Bobby was already walking back towards the turnout rack. “Copy that, Captain Nash” May replied. “Be careful.”
Bobby turned to the team. “Gear up. Now.” he said, and with that he grabbed his helmet from the rack. No one needed to be told twice.
Eddie shoved his phone back into his pocket, hands shaking as he grabbed his jacket again. She had called. And he hadn’t answered.
Red and blue lights lit up the street as the 118 pulled up.
The area was already closed to the public. Police cars lined the curb, officers were moving through the shadows with their flashlights raised. Athena stood near the center of it all, phone pressed to her ear.
The engine doors flew open. Bobby was the first out, and moved towards his wife determined. “Athena,” he spoke up. She turned at the sound of his voice, relief flickering across her face for just a moment before reality settled back in. “Bobby.” They didn’t hug, there wasn’t time for that yet. Bobby searched her face instead.
Eddie, together with Chim, Hen and Buck were close behind him, his eyes scanning the street. His chest felt tight, breath shallow. This was the place. He knew it before anyone said a word.
“Any updates?” Bobby asked, while the group gathered behind Bobby. Athena shook her head. “Not yet. Dispatch is still tracing what they can. We know he was here.” Before Bobby could respond, a voice cut through the night.
“Sergeant Grant?” An officer walked over, holding something carefully in gloved hands. “We found a phone.” he said, holding up the phone.
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. Athena stepped forward instantly. “Where?” she asked. “About half a block down,” the officer said. “In an alley between the street and a small parking lot. The screen cracked, but it was still on when we picked it up. There’s an open line.” he answered.
Athena took the phone. The glass was shattered, fractured so badly it was hard to tell where one crack ended and another began. But the screen still glowed faintly. 911 — Connected
“She called,” Athena said quietly. “She saw him.” She connected the dots.
Eddie closed his eyes for half a second. She’d listened. She called him, and when he didn’t answer she called 9-1-1.
Athena lifted it to her ear. “May?”
There was a pause. Then “Mom?” May’s voice came through the phone, it was thin but steady. “I’m still on.” Athena closed her eyes for a brief second. Eddie stood a few feet away, unmoving, watching her face.
“Tell me what you heard,” Athena said. May swallowed. “She called in because she recognized him. She was trying to get a picture. I heard footsteps-” May hesitated for a moment to finish her sentence. “I heard her scream, I heard her fight. And then the phone dropped.”
Athena’s jaw tightened. “I could hear her breathing,” May continued quietly. “She was scared. But she was fighting. The line stayed open.”
Eddie’s chest tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“She did everything right,” Athena said, voice low but firm. “You did too.” She lowered the phone, handed it carefully back to the officer. “Get this to tech. Preserve everything.”
Then she turned, already in command. “Start canvassing,” Athena said, already turning away. “Every street, every alley. I want cameras checked, witnesses questioned. He didn’t vanish into thin air.”
Officers moved immediately, radios crackling as they spread out. Bobby stayed beside Athena, close enough to hear, far enough not to interfere.
The 118 lingered near the engines, watching the street empty and fill again with motion. Eddie paced once, then forced himself to stop. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides as he leaned against the fire engine, eyes fixed on the darkened alley where the phone had been found.
She had been here. She had been so close.
Minutes passed. No updates. No leads.
Then Buck’s voice broke through the noise. “Cap.” he called out. Bobby turned. “What’ve you got?” he asked. Buck jogged over, “We found her car.” he said, out of breath.
Eddie’s head snapped up. “It’s parked a street over,” Buck continued. “Driver’s door unlocked. Keys missing.” he added.
That was when Eddie lost it. “No,” he said sharply, shaking his head. “No- she wouldn’t-” he stumbled over his words. He turned and slammed his fist into the side of the fire engine.
The clang rang out, loud and violent in the quiet night. Everyone froze. Hen stared at him. Chim took a step forward, then hesitated. Buck stopped short, guilt flashing across his face. Eddie stood there, chest heaving, knuckles pressed white against the steel.
“She called,” Eddie said, voice breaking despite his effort to hold it together. “She was right here.” tears pricking in his eyes.
Athena watched him carefully, grief and fury mixing in her eyes. “We’re still in this,” she said firmly. “We don’t stop now.” Then Bobby stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We will find her,” Bobby said. “But we need you with us.” he continued, trying to make eye contact with him.
Eddie looked down, but slowly let his eyes wander to meet Bobby’s, and nodded once. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Somewhere in the darkness beyond the blocked street, time kept moving.
______
Harry’s legs were numb.
He didn’t know how long he’d been hiding under the car. Only that the asphalt pressed cold into his hands and every breath felt too loud. He squeezed his eyes shut whenever footsteps passed, counting silently, trying not to think.
Then the footsteps came back. Slower this time.
Harry’s eyes snapped open, he saw her shoes first, they were scraping against the asphalt. Then her knees buckled, and Jeffrey Hudson yanked her upright by a fistful of her hair.
She gasped, not a scream, just a sharp, pained breath and Harry’s heart slammed so hard it hurt. “Who are you?” the man asked calmly, like he wasn’t hurting her at all. But she didn’t answer. Her hands were wrapped around his wrist, trying to loosen his grip, jaw clenched tight. When she looked at him, her eyes were burning. She looked almost angry.
Jeffrey laughed quietly. “Nothing to say?” he said. She spat at his feet. Harry bit down on his sleeve to keep himself from making a sound.
Jeffrey’s expression darkened. He shoved her harshly closer to the Jeep that was parked on the small parking lot, keeping her trapped between his body and the open door. With one arm pressed against her collarbones, he reached with his free hand into the pocket of her jacket.
“No-” she protested, twisting, trying anything to break free, but he was already pulling something free. A keychain. A small metal shield. 118 etched into the surface.
Jeffrey tilted his head. “Ah, a firefighter,” he said slowly. “That’s interesting.” he added in a low voice. Her eyes flicked, just for a second toward the cars lining the street, searching for Harry. Jeffrey followed her gaze. “Oh,” he murmured. “Yeah, you’re not alone.”
Harry’s chest seized. Jeffrey’s arm moved now, and slid around her neck, not choking, but just tight enough to trap her, to make sure she couldn’t move. She was now with her back pressed against his chest, stiffened as she breathed fast, her hands grabbing at his sleeve.
“Listen carefully,” Jeffrey said, voice low but clear. “You come out now, and I let her go.” he continued, calling over the parking lot. Jeffrey and (Y/n) both didn’t spot him yet.
Harry shook his head violently, tears blurring his vision. (Y/n) shook her head too, small, desperate. Begging Harry to not listen to him if he was still there.
Jeffrey sighed, like he was disappointed. “Otherwise,” he continued, reaching into his pocket, “I don’t have much choice…” he said. The knife caught the flickering streetlight as it appeared in his hand.
Harry stopped breathing. Jeffrey pressed the flat of the blade near her throat. Not cutting, but just close enough that Harry could see her swallow hard. “Harry,” Jeffrey called out softly. “I know you’re here.”
Harry sobbed.
“I said come out.” Jeffrey was losing his patience. “I-” Harry’s voice broke as he crawled out from beneath the car. “I’m here. Please. I’m here.” Harry begged, his voice on the edge of breaking, his hands slightly up.
Jeffrey smiled, “There you are.” he said.
The knife disappeared. Harry slowly walked forward, but before he could reach her, Jeffrey moved. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and pressed it hard over her mouth and nose.
Her eyes widened in shock. She tried to twist away, tried to fight, hands weak as they pushed against his arm.
“No!” Harry screamed as he realized what Jeffrey was doing.
Her movements slowed, her grip loosened and after a few seconds, her knees gave out. Jeffrey caught her easily as she went limp, her body slack against his chest.
“No, no, no,” Harry cried, reaching for her. “Wake up! Please!” Jeffrey turned to him, expression cold again. “You did exactly what I asked.” he said. He opened the back of the Jeep and laid her inside carefully, almost gently, before grabbing Harry by the arm. “Get in.”
Harry clung to her hand as he was pushed beside her, shaking her shoulder, begging her to wake up. She didn’t.
The hatch slammed shut. Harry moved toward her, sobbing quietly as the car started moving, the engine’s vibration humming through the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over. “I’m so sorry.” he cried softly
-
Darkness came back in pieces.
Her head throbbed as consciousness crept in slowly. Her neck hurt at the place where Jeffrey had dug the knife into her skin. (Y/n) tried to move, and hissed when pain shot through her arms.
She tried to pull her arm harder, but then she realized was tied. Rope dug into her wrists, binding them behind her back. Her shoulders screamed in protest as she shifted, the chair beneath her wobbling slightly.
“H- Harry?” she whispered, her voice cracking. A sharp intake of breath behind her. “I’m here,” Harry said quickly, too quickly. His back was pressed to hers. She could feel him trembling.
Relief flooded inside her chest, he’s still here. “Are you okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low.
“I- I think so.” Harry stumbled. The sound of metal hitting the ground grew louder as she came back to reality. Jeffrey was outside. She could hear him now, boots against dirt, the steady rhythm of a shovel being driven into the ground.
Digging. Her stomach dropped at the realization of what he was doing. He was for sure not planting flowers.
“Harry,” she said softly, keeping her voice steady even as panic clawed at her ribs. “Listen to me. You have to stay calm.” she tried to convince him.
He was breathing hard, sounding dangerously close to something like a panic attack. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m scared.” he sniffled.
“I know,” she said. “I am too. But we’re going to get out of here, okay?” Her head shot back towards the backdoor as another door creaked somewhere in the distance. Then silence. Just the sound of the shovel again.
She twisted her wrists slowly, testing the rope. It burned. But it shifted just a little. “Can you move your hands?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said after a second. “A bit.”
“Good. Rub the rope against the chair. As hard as you can. Don’t stop.” They worked in silence, breath heavy, focussed on one thing at a time. Every scrape of the shovel made her heart pound faster, but she didn’t stop.
And finally the rope gave in. Harry gasped as his hands came free. A second later, (Y/n) felt the tension around her wrists loosen too.
Her hands were free, but the rope around her chest still held her tight, cutting off her breath every time she moved. She forced herself to slow down, even as panic clawed at her throat, this psycho could enter the house any second.
Pulling the rope wouldn’t work, she’d already tried that. So instead, she hooked her fingers beneath the binding at her side and worked it upward, inch by inch. The pressure burned, her arms going numb as it scraped over her ribs.
She leaned forward, twisting her shoulder carefully, then more urgently when the pain spiked. Her breath stuttered, her vision blurred a bit, and then one arm slipped free from the rope.
She wrenched the other shoulder forward and tore herself loose, gasping as the pressure finally broke.
She turned immediately, crawling toward Harry despite the ache in her limbs. She cupped his face gently, forcing him to look at her. “Hey. You’re doing so good,” she whispered. “I’ve got you now.” she promised him.
His eyes filled with tears. “I- I can’t-” he whispered, stumbling. “Yes, you can,” she said, even though her hands were still shaking. “You already are.”
Her fingers worked quickly at the rope around his wrists. She tries to undo the knot the psycho had made, but it’s tight. “Almost there,” she murmured. “Just a little longer.” she added, and suddenly she managed to break open the knot.
Harry sobbed quietly as his hands came free “We’re not done,” she whispered. “But we’re not giving up. Not now.” she said as she got out the knot from the rope around his chest.
Harry stood up from the chair, she placed her hand onto his shoulder. “Eyes on me, okay? Follow me.” she said. Harry nodded at her words, and did what she told her.
Every sound felt too loud inside this house. Breaths, footsteps, the creak of the floor beneath them. “Don’t stop running.” she whispered. “No matter what.” she told Harry.
They burst through the front door, and the night swallowed them whole. No streetlights. No houses. No sounds of traffic. Just open land stretching endlessly in every direction.
Her heart sank as she realized where she was. The middle of nowhere.
“Run,” she said instantly, shoving Harry forward. “Harry, run!” But it was already too late.
Jeffrey stepped into view from the side of the house, calm and deliberate, a shovel still hanging loosely from his hand like this had all been part of the plan. His head tilted, eyes lighting up when he saw them. “Well,” he said lightly. “Look at that.”
(Y/n) didn’t think, she moved.
Her fist collided with his jaw hard enough to make her bones ache. He staggered half a step, surprise flashing across his face just before she drove her knee up into his groin.
For a split second, hope sparked. Then he just laughed. A sharp, ugly sound that made her blood run cold. “Oh, I like you,” he said, eyes wild. “I really do.”
His fist connected with her side of the head, brutal and sudden. She went down hard, the impact knocking the air clean from her lungs. She gasped. Stars exploded behind her eyes, still conscious, still aware, maybe too aware.. of his boots moving closer.
“Harry run!” she tried to shout, but it came out broken. The boy just stood there, too scared to run away. Jeffrey grabbed her arm and yanked her up just enough to make her cry out. His gaze never left Harry.
“Don’t-” she screamed. “Don’t you touch him!” she choked on her words, the mix of trying to catch her breath and hurt.
That was when his hand closed around her throat. Tight. Crushing. Her feet barely touched the ground as the world narrowed to pressure and panic. She clawed at his wrist, vision dimming, a roaring sound filling her ears. Then he dropped her.
She hit the dirt on her hands and knees, coughing violently, dragging air into her lungs like it might disappear again if she didn’t fight for it. She didn’t have time to recover.
His arm locked around her neck from behind, hauling her upright. Something cold pressed against her temple. Click. The sound was unmistakable.
A gun.
Jeffrey leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “You take one more step,” he said to Harry, voice almost cheerful, “and I’ll blow her head off.”
(Y/n) shook her head weakly, tears streaking down her face as she struggled to breathe. “Harry… don’t…” she cried. At least one of them should make it out alive.
Harry froze. Hands shaking. Eyes wide. Terror projected on his face.
“Good,” Jeffrey said. “That’s a smart kid.”
He shoved the gun harder against her head and grabbed her arm again, fingers digging in painfully. “Come on,” he said, pulling her onto her feet, “I’ve been working on something special.” he added as he was already dragging them forward.
(Y/n) stumbled beside him, barely staying upright, her body screaming in protest, but her eyes never left Harry.
The ground changed beneath their feet.
Loose dirt. Uneven. The smell hit her next, metal and oil and something damp that turned her stomach. Jeffrey slowed, clearly enjoying the way her steps slowed down at the sight. “There we are,” he said.
The hole yawned open in front of them, jagged and deep, freshly dug. Beside it stood an oil drum, upright now, its rusted sides catching the faint spill of moonlight. Another shovel leaned against it, dirt still clinging to the blade.
(Y/n)’s chest tightened. “No,” she whispered, the word tearing out of her. Jeffrey tightened his grip on her arm and turned his head just enough to look at Harry. “You’re going to do exactly what I say,” he told him calmly. “And she stays breathing.”
Harry nodded frantically, tears streaking down his face. Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of zip ties. He grabbed (Y/n)’s wrists, forcing them together in front of her, pulling the plastic tight until it bit into her skin. She cried out but didn’t fight. She couldn’t risk it now.
“Get in,” he said, letting go of her arm and jerking his chin toward the drum. “I’m not-” Her voice broke. “I’m not getting in there.” There was a small trembling in her voice as she said those words.
Jeffrey sighed, almost bored. He yanked Harry toward him, shoving the gun under the boy’s chin. “That’s a shame,” he said lightly. “Because I was hoping you’d make this easy. And it would be awful if he went through all of this just to bleed out right now.”
Harry sobbed, frozen, eyes closed as the metal pressed against his skin. (Y/n)’s heart shattered. “Okay,” she choked out. “Okay! don’t- please. I’ll do it.”
Jeffrey smiled. He released Harry just long enough to shove her toward the drum. She stumbled, catching herself on the rim, the metal cold beneath her palms. Her breaths came fast and shallow as she turned back once. Just once.
“Harry,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “Look at me.” He did. “You listen to him,” she whispered. “You do whatever he says. I’m right here.” she told him.
He shook his head, terrified. “I don’t want-” before he could finish his words, she cut him off. “I know,” she said softly. “But you’re strong. You can do this.”
The oil drum loomed in front of her, rusted and waiting. Jeffrey tightened his grip on her arm, impatient. “Get in.”
Her hands were bound in front of her, wrists burning, but as she stumbled forward her fingers brushed against her sleeve. Something familiar pressed into her palm. Her bracelet. Thin. Worn. The one she never took off.
Her heart stuttered. She didn’t look down. Didn’t hesitate long enough for it to matter. She loosened her fingers and let it slip. It fell soundlessly into the dirt, half-hidden beneath loose soil near the edge of the hole.
Jeffrey shoved her forward before she could say another word. “Inside.”
She climbed into the drum, every movement heavy, deliberate. The metal was cold against her skin as she curled in on herself, knees tight to her chest. The lid slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed her whole, thick and absolute. The sound echoed inside the metal, vibrating through her bones as the drum tipped and rolled into place. She cried out when it landed, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.
Then, voices. Muffled. Distorted through layers of steel. Jeffrey’s came first. Calm. Too calm. “Grab the shovel.” he commanded.
Her heart seized. “No..” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. There was a pause. Then another sound, small, uneven. It was Harry’s breathing. “I said help me,” Jeffrey continued, sharper now. “Unless you want her to stop making noise.”
Her chest tightened painfully. She pressed her forehead against her knees, tears spilling freely as she listened to the scrape of metal against dirt. The shovel biting into the ground.
Each thud of soil hitting the drum made her flinch. “I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over again, to Harry, to herself. “I’m so sorry.”
_______
They didn’t find him by chasing addresses. They found him because Jeffrey Hudson wanted to be found.
The Jeep showed up on traffic cameras first, rolling through the city like it had nowhere to be and all the time in the world. “Vehicle sighted on Fifth and Alameda,” dispatch said over the radio. Athena adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “Copy. Keep eyes on it.”
Silence stretched over the radio as the engine followed behind her, the city dark and tense around them. “He’s not heading out,” Buck said from the back of the engine, watching the map update on the console. “He’s looping back.” he concluded.
Eddie leaned forward in his seat. “He wants eyes on him.”
“He wants control.” Bobby said, as he stared at the map and noticed the pattern.
They cut the sirens three blocks out. The street was empty… a warehouse district, long stretches of cracked asphalt and boarded-up buildings. No civilians. No witnesses. Jeffrey stood under a broken streetlight, just enough to be seen clearly. Waiting.
Eddie barely waited for the engine to come to a full stop. The door swung open and he jumped down onto the ground, boots hitting the floor hard. His chest felt too tight, breath coming sharp and shallow as adrenaline burned through him. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms like he could anchor himself through the pain.
He needed answers.
Every second without them felt like something was clawing its way out of his chest. Rage, fear, grief all mixed together, impossible to hide anymore. His jaw locked, teeth grinding as he stared ahead, eyes searching for anything, anyone who could tell him where she was. Control had never felt so far away as it did now. He flexed his hands once, then let them curl again, harder this time. If he didn’t move, if he didn’t do something, he was going to explode.
And he wasn’t sure who would be standing in front of him when that happened.
Eddie took two steps forward before he realized he was moving. His vision tunneled, the noise of the scene blurring into a dull roar. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles ached.
He needed answers, and he needed them now.
“Eddie.” Bobby’s voice cut through the fog. Eddie didn’t slow. Didn’t look back. A hand closed around Eddie’s arm. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t restraining, but solid. Anchoring. Eddie stopped short, chest heaving as his gaze snapped forward. Jeffrey.
Something dark and feral ignited behind Eddie’s eyes as he locked onto him. Jeffrey’s gaze found Eddie just as easily, and he just smiled.
Oh, he enjoyed this. The fear. The desperation. The way it cracked through the people who loved them. He soaked it in.
Bobby stepped in front of him, pressing a hand to Eddie’s chest to keep him back, forcing Eddie to meet his eyes. There was urgency there but also something else. Understanding. He knew this kind of fear. Knew what it did to a man. “Not like this,” Bobby said quietly.
Eddie swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “I can’t just stand here,” he shot back, voice raw. “She’s out there and he’s-”
“I know,” Bobby cut him off, just as quietly. “And that’s exactly why you need to slow down.” Eddie shook his head, a harsh, frustrated motion. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides. Bobby leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Eddie could hear. “Let Athena handle this.”
“She doesn’t need you losing control right now,” Bobby continued. “And you don’t need to live with what happens if you do.” Eddie’s breath stuttered. His fists tightened again, then slowly, painfully, loosened. His shoulders sagged just a fraction.
Bobby kept his hand on Eddie’s arm for another second, grounding him. “Stay with us,” he said. “We’re closer than you think.”
Athena stepped forward, weapon raised, voice calm and commanding. “Jeffrey Hudson. Hands where I can see them.” She spoke. Jeffrey lifted one hand slowly, but the other stayed in his pocket.
“You’re late,” he said mildly. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” he continued, sounding playfully.
Eddie’s vision tunneled. “Where are they?” he shouted. “Where did you leave them?” His voice was raw. Jeffrey tilted his head. “That depends,” he said. “How much do you want to know?” another disgusting smile appeared on his face.
“Jeffrey,” Athena warned. But he ignored her. Instead, he pulled something from his pocket. A phone, his phone.
Eddie’s heart slammed against his chest as he was focussed on the object in his hand.
Jeffrey tapped the screen, then turned it outward. “Thought you’d like to see,” he said. The video started playing. It was dark. Shaky. Poor quality. But unmistakable.
The sound came first. Harry’s breathing, it was fast, shallow, terrified. The screen showed a dimly lit room. Bare walls. A single chair, and Harry was tied to it.
Alive. Awake.
Buck swore softly. Hen’s hand flew to her mouth.
His eyes were wide, darting off-screen like he was watching something terrible happen just out of view. And then the camera shifted. (Y/n) was slumped in another chair, back to back. Only, she was unconscious. Her head lolled forward, hair falling into her face, wrists bound tightly behind her back. She didn’t move. Didn’t react.
Eddie felt like the ground dropped out from underneath him. “She’s- ” Buck whispered. “She’s not-” Buck could barely speak after the footage he just saw. “She’s breathing,” Hen said quickly, though her voice shook. “Look, her chest is moving.” Hen said quickly, her voice shaking.
Buck looked at her, desperate. “How do you know?” he asked, his eyes glued to the small screen Jeffrey was holding. Hen leaned closer. “Watch.. there. That slight movement. It’s rhythmic. Not random.” she explained.
Jeffrey shifted the phone, the image warping for a second.
“She’s not completely still,” Hen continued, forcing calm into her voice. “If she wasn’t breathing, there’d be no pattern. No pause. She’s alive.”
Harry whimpered softly on the screen. “Please,” he said. “Please don’t hurt her.” he begged him. Jeffrey’s voice came from behind the camera. Smooth. Amused. “She’s fine..” he said. “For now.”
Eddie couldn’t look away. She looked smaller than he’d ever seen her. Helpless in a way that didn’t make sense.
Athena went perfectly still, but her grip tightened on her weapon. Jeffrey watched them all with interest. “See? I keep my promises. Mostly.”
“Turn it off,” Athena said, voice dangerously low.
Jeffrey didn’t. Instead, the video shifted—Harry flinching as a harsh sound echoed nearby. Something heavy. Something being moved.
“Stop,” Athena said again. Jeffrey finally looked at her. “You shoot me,” he said calmly, “and you’ll never find them in time.”
Eddie lunged. It took everything the 118 had to keep him back. His heart was hammering, breath coming too fast, too loud. “You don’t get to show that,” Eddie snarled. “You don’t get to-”
Jeffrey raised the phone slightly higher. The video cut to black. Silence slammed down hard.
Athena kept her weapon trained on Jeffrey, her stance solid, unwavering. He stood a few feet away, hands still raised, but his smile hadn’t faded. “You see?” he said calmly. “I told you. They’re alive.”
Eddie took a step forward before he realized he was moving. “Don’t,” Athena warned quietly, never taking her eyes off Jeffrey.
Jeffrey’s gaze slid past her. Straight to Eddie. “She’s something…” he said, almost conversational. “Not like the others. She doesn’t break easy.”
Eddie’s jaw clenched. “What did you do to her?” Eddie demanded. Jeffrey chuckled softly. “Relax. I like her too much for that.”
That did it.
Eddie surged forward. Buck and Chim grabbed him instantly, hauling him back as Eddie struggled violently, rage rushing through him. “You don’t get to talk about her,” Eddie snarled, teeth bared. “You don’t get to say her name.”
Jeffrey only smiled wider. “She fought me,” he continued, unfazed. “Kicked. Hit. Looked at me like she thought she could win.” He shook his head, almost impressed. “I like that fire.”
“Shut up,” Athena snapped, gun unwavering. “Now.” Jeffrey glanced at her, then back to Eddie. “You should be proud. She didn’t stop protecting the kid. Not once.”
Eddie went still. Too still. And Athena noticed.
“So where are they?” she asked, voice deadly calm. “Because if you think this ends with you walking away, you’re wrong.” she continued. Jeffrey tilted his head, considering. “I left them somewhere quiet. Peaceful.” he answered.
“Where,” Athena repeated. He sighed, like she was boring him. “Safe. For now...” Athena was growing more impatient at the vague answers he gave her. “That’s not an answer.”
Jeffrey’s eyes flicked briefly to his jacket. “She used what time she had,” he said softly. “Made sure the boy stayed calm. Even when she couldn’t.”
Athena stepped closer. Jeffrey’s smile lingered just a second too long, and that was when Athena’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Enough,” she said. “Last chance.”
His hand twitched. Athena didn’t shout. Didn’t even warn him again. The shot echoed sharp and final through the empty street. Jeffrey stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face for the first, and last time. The phone slipped from his hand as he collapsed to the pavement, unmoving.
Silence crashed down around them. Eddie stood frozen, breath ragged, eyes locked on the body. His knees nearly gave out as Buck loosened his grip, steadying him.
Athena stood motionless, gun still raised. After a long moment, she lowered it. “It’s over,” she said quietly.
But Eddie couldn’t look away from the phone lying face-up on the ground. The screen was still lit. Still showing her. Alive.
The radio crackled, “Captain Nash,” May’s voice broke through, urgent and shaking. “Captain, I traced the metadata on the video upload.” Bobby grabbed the radio that was attached to his turnout coat, “Go ahead.”
“It pinged off a private network,” May said. “An abandoned property. No power. No utilities. It’s… it’s far out. Middle of nowhere.” she continued.
Eddie’s heart dropped, Athena closed her eyes. “He left them,” she said. But Bobby straightened. “Send the location.” he told May on the other side of the line.
Coordinates came through.
Eddie was already moving toward the truck. Jeffrey Hudson was dead.
But Eddie had never been more afraid in his life. Because the clock hadn’t stopped. And somewhere far away, buried in darkness, she was still fighting.
______
When the team arrived, the house looked dead.
That was the first thing Eddie noticed as the trucks rolled to a stop. No lights, no movement, no sound. Just a sagging structure sitting alone against the dark stretch of land, swallowed by dirt and weeds and silence.
“This is it,” Athena said quietly.
They moved fast. Bobby kicked the door in without hesitation. Dust and stale air rushed out to meet them, thick and sour. Flashlights snapped on, beams slicing through the darkness.
“Split up,” Bobby ordered. “Careful.”
Eddie’s heart pounded so hard it hurt, but in the moment because of the adrenaline, he couldn’t even feel it. Every second felt wrong, like they were moving too slow, too heavy. His eyes scanned every corner, every wall, every shadow.
“Harry!” Buck called. “Harry, it’s Buck! Can you hear me?” he called out through the house. But nothing, no reaction of some kind.
Inside, the house was worse than it looked outside. Bare walls. Scratched floors. No furniture. Just emptiness, and the sense that someone had been very careful about it.
Hen stopped suddenly. “Bobby.” She pointed to the wall. Something wasn’t right. The plaster was uneven. Fresh. Poorly done, like it had been rushed. Buck was beside her instantly. “Oh God.” he mumbled.
They tore into it with their hands at first, then tools plaster cracking, dust filling the air. “Harry!” Bobby shouted, voice breaking as he used one of the tools to break the plaster. They found him folded into the space behind the wall, barely big enough to breathe in. Unconscious. Still.
Hen dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she checked his pulse. “He’s alive,” she said hoarsely. “He’s alive.” she repeated one more time, maybe to reassure herself even more than the others.
Relief slammed into Eddie so hard his vision blurred, but it didn’t last. Because she wasn’t there. The team had Harry, but Eddie’s stomach twisted like a knife.
Eddie turned away, “He wouldn’t keep them together,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Bobby, Hen, Chim, and Athena were all focused on Harry, taking his vitals and checking if he had any major injuries. His eyes darted to Eddie once, then away, still in shock. None of them had time to think about where (Y/n) could be.
Eddie and Buck moved outside, the night air was thick and still. They moved slowly, flashlights slicing through the darkness, hands shielding their eyes from the glare. Sand crunched under their boots. Every shadow felt like a trap. Every beam of light seemed to reveal nothing. “Nothing,” Buck said, frustration heavy in his voice. “It’s like she vanished.” he added.
Eddie’s jaw tightened. “He wouldn’t keep them together,” he repeated, low. His grip on the flashlight was white-knuckled. “He couldn’t.”
They continued, desperate, scanning the ground.
Then, a flash. A tiny glint reflecting in the beam. Eddie froze. Heart hammering. He bent down. It was her bracelet. The one she had left behind, near the hole. The one now half-buried under the loose dirt covering the oil drum, only they didn’t know it yet.
Without a word, Eddie let his foot tap the dirt. At first, there was nothing weird to be heard. But then, after a few times, there was a change of the sound. It sounded like metal.
“Buck,” he breathed, urgency cutting through his calm. Eddie let himself fall onto his knees, and started digging, investigating the thing he found. It couldn’t be… could it?
As soon as Eddie realized he was digging for a oil drum, he knew. “I’ve got her!” Eddie called out. Buck didn’t need to be told twice. He was at his side in an instant, helping dig with hands and flashlight, working quickly but carefully.
While Buck and Eddie were digging, Buck grabbed the radio that was attached to his jacket. “Bobby! We found her!” he barked, voice cracking with relief and tension. “Copy!” came Bobby’s voice, sharp and urgent. “We’re on our way!”
Minutes dragged like hours. Dirt spilled over their boots. Sand and soil clung to their sleeves. But finally, the top of the drum appeared. The drum was cold under his hands, metal biting into his palms as he pried it open.
Eddie’s heart sank at the sight of her. She was curled inside, dust and dirt coating her, wrists still bound, chest barely moving. Every instinct screamed, she needed him now.
“Cut the ties,” he commanded Buck, his voice low but razor-sharp. Buck worked quickly, metal snipping against zip ties. Eddie’s hands hovered, trembling with barely contained panic.
The moment her hands were free, Eddie knelt beside the barrel, hands gripping the rim like his life depended on it. Her small, trembling form inside looked fragile, a shadow of the person he knew, coated in dust and sweat.
“Hang on,” he murmured, voice low but urgent. Buck steadied the drum, while Eddie pressed his hands carefully under her armpits, fingers digging into her ribs just enough to lift without causing more pain.
“Got you,” he murmured, voice low but fierce, as he braced his legs and lifted.
Her dust-covered body was heavier than he expected, every ounce of it aching in his arms. He could feel the tension in her muscles, the stiffness from being trapped, the way she trembled even before she was fully conscious.
Step by careful step, he raised her higher, the drum scraping faintly against the dirt. Her head lolled slightly against his shoulder; he tilted it gently, whispering, “I’ve got you… you’re okay.”
Finally, he swung her fully free, lifting her out of the barrel and onto solid ground. He didn’t let go. Arms still wrapped around her, Eddie eased her down onto her back. Eddie dropped to his knees beside her. He tilted her head back gently, pinching her nose, sealing his lips over hers. He blew a sharp breath into her lungs, counting silently in his mind.
Nothing.
He tried again. Still shallow.
“Come on, come on, come on…” he muttered, teeth gritted. His fingers pressed harder on her chest, measuring rhythm, forcing life back into her. Heart pounding, adrenaline and fear twisting into raw urgency.
The sound of hurried footsteps cut through the night, crunching on sand and dirt. Chim came running, flashlight swinging in one hand, Hen hot on his heels. Bobby’s deep voice followed behind them. Eddie barely noticed. His world had shrunk to her fragile form beneath him, every second critical.
Then, her chest rose slightly. A tiny, fragile movement. Eddie’s heart hitched. He pressed another breath into her, waited. And then, a gasp followed. Sharp and desperate.
She coughed, hacking, eyes fluttering open. Recognition. Fear. Relief all crashing at once. “Eddie…” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.
His arms were wrapped tight around her, pressing her close as tears streaked his face. “I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you.” Her hands clutched at the back of his coat, shoving away dirt and dust, grounding herself to the only thing that felt real. Her sobs shook her body violently, the sound raw and ragged, carrying every second of terror and pain she had endured.
Eddie held her tighter, whispering fragments between breaths. Every sob wracked her chest, and his chest ached in response. He could feel her heartbeat under his palm. It was slow, fragile, but steadying.
For a long moment, there was no sound but her sobs and his ragged breathing, the two of them in the dark, metal-stained world of the oil drum, finding each other again. “You’re okay now,” Eddie said, voice breaking. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Hen knelt beside them, flashlight steady, checking her vitals. Chim exhaled sharply, relief heavy in the air. Bobby’s hand landed briefly on Eddie’s shoulder, grounding him, letting him know the team was there, but Eddie didn’t move. He couldn’t.
______
Daylight came through the blinds in thin lines. It hurt her eyes at first. Her head was throbbing, a dull ache that made her groan softly as she shifted against the pillows. “Hey… easy,” a familiar voice said immediately.
Her gaze wandered to her left. It was Eddie.
He was still in his uniform, strikes of dirt across the fabric, his sleeves pushed up, dark circles under his eyes, but he was smiling. It was small and careful, like he was afraid to startle her.
She blinked a few times, grounding herself. The hospital room came into focus, the beeping monitor breaking through the noise. The realization of the IV attached to her hand, the quiet.
“You’re okay,” Eddie said gently, reading the panic that flickered across her face. “Jeffrey’s dead. And… Harry’s safe.” Her breath left her in a shaky rush. “Harry?” she asked, needing the double check to see if he was okay.
“He’s okay,” Eddie repeated. “Scared. But okay.”
She lifted a hand toward her head without thinking. Eddie caught her wrist instantly, gentle but firm. “Don’t. You’ve got a nasty cut on the side of your face.” he said. Her eyes met his as he held her wrist. She let her hand drop, eyes never leaving his. For a moment she just stared at him, like she was trying to make sure he was real.
“…What?” Eddie asked quietly. “Were… were you here all night?” she asked. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed at the question, “What? No,” he said too quickly, shaking his head. “I mean..”
She gave him a look that said seriously? I know you’re lying.
He sighed, a corner of his mouth twitching. “Okay. Yes. I stayed. I couldn’t leave you… especially not after what happened last night.” he confessed.
Her lips curved faintly. Then something shifted in her expression. “I called you,” she said softly.
Eddie’s smile faded and his jaw tightened. “I know,” he admitted, guilt flashing across his face. “I saw it after. I..” He swallowed. “I keep thinking… if I’d picked up…”
“Eddie…” she said softly. He looked at her then. Really looked. “I should’ve answered,” he said, voice rough. “I was supposed to answer.”
“You couldn’t have known,” she said. “None of this is on you.” she continued. He shook his head once, sharp. “Doesn’t change how it feels.”
Silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Heavy.
“I heard you,” she said after a moment. “When I woke up. You were talking.”
His ears turned red instantly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
She gave a small, tired smile. “I’m glad I did.”
He hesitated, then reached for her hand. Slow, like he was asking permission. When she didn’t pull away, his fingers curled around hers, warm and steady. “I thought I lost you,” he said quietly.
The words landed harder than anything else. Her throat tightened. “I’m still here.” she said, looking at their hands, slightly glancing up to look at him, eyes meeting again.
That was when something shifted. Not all at once. Just… gently.
Eddie’s thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly. “You know,” he said after a beat, voice softer now, “you don’t listen worth a damn.” he said.
Her brows furrowed faintly. “What?”
“I told you,” he said, glancing up at her, “if anything felt wrong, anything at all… you call. You don’t try to be a hero.” She huffed weakly. “You didn’t say that last sentence specifically.”
“Pretty sure I did…” he pointed out. She tilted her head slightly. “Okay, what was I supposed to do,” she asked softly, “pretend I didn’t see him?”
That lets Eddie clock the familiar fire before smiling “There it is,” he said. “That look.”
She furrowed her eyebrows at his words. “What look?” she asked. “The ‘I’d do it again’ look.” Eddie said. She smiled despite herself. “You know me too well.”
The space between them felt different now. Her gaze wandered from his eyes to his mouth and back again. That did something to him. He leaned closer without realizing it, his voice dropping. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
The space between them shrank. Too slow. Too deliberate. She felt his breath against her lips. Felt her pulse jump. “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, even as her eyes flicked down to his mouth.
Eddie tilted his head slightly, teasing, hovering just out of reach. “What?” he murmured. “This?” he teased. She swallowed. “We can’t..” she breathed heavily.
“You want me to stop?” he asked softly. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.”
The words caught in her throat. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in. Eddie didn’t hesitate. The kiss was warm and unhurried, full of relief and everything they hadn’t said out loud. His hand slid instinctively to the back of her head, grounding her as if he needed to feel that she was really there. Alive. Safe.
The door creaked open. Neither of them noticed.
Harry’s voice sounded softly from the doorway. Athena froze mid-step. “Oop-” she said instantly, reaching out and gently covering Harry’s eyes with her hand. “Nope. Not yet. Definitely not yet.” she said.
Eddie pulled back, forehead resting against hers, breath uneven. His hand stayed at the back of her head for a moment, like letting go was impossible.
She laughed weakly.
Eddie huffed. “We are never living this down.”
Buck’s voice came from the hallway. “I’m just saying, we almost lost her and this is how she wakes up? Iconic. Like straight from a movie.” Hen smiled softly. Chim shook his head, amused. Bobby just watched them with something close to relief written all over his face.
Eddie and (Y/n) parted, her hand pressing into the mattress. Eddie’s hand covering hers as Athena lowered her hand. “Okay,” she said gently. “You can look now.” Harry blinked, then smiled, small and shy. “You’re okay.”
She nodded, emotion tightening her throat. “I am.” she said, feeling Eddie squeezing her hand once, quiet promise in the gesture. Making her look to her left, meeting Eddie’s eyes once more. For the first time since the nightmare began, she felt safe.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
9-1-1 Masterlist | Eddie Diaz Masterlist
YAALLLLL THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD OMG
