You all need to consider yourselves lucky that I am not in the 9-1-1 writer’s room. Because I’m telling you right now that if I was—not only would Buck ABSOLUTELY be dying, he would 1. die just as he confesses his feelings to Eddie, 2. be a direct parallel to how Bobby died and 3. a parallel to Orpheus and Eurydice.
Look, you’re already here and hungry. You might as well let me cook.
The episode would be called “Wait For Me.” we open up with Buck continuously having flashbacks to when Bobby died. Sure, he’s in therapy, he’s grieving, but it’s almost like he keeps getting snapped right back to that moment. With every call they take, it seems like he’s just a little more out of it. A little more zoned out, and in their line of work, that can kill someone.
Hen suggests he heads home and Buck almost argues against it, but almost half of the 118 starts to agree that maybe he should take some time off. Hell, even Edmundo ‘Eddie’ “workaholic” Diaz THINKS he should take time off. And while Buck grumbles, he still decides to take the rest of the day off. He calls Maddie on her break, asking her for something to do since he just took work off and a nap doesn’t seem pleasing right now. (He doesn’t tell anyone he keeps having nightmares about Bobby’s death.)
And Maddie, being the loving older sister she is, tells Buck that maybe some other social interaction would be good for him. Imagine this — a new exhibit has opened, an old mine shack that’s set up for visitors. Maybe he should go.
And Buck, almost feels this tugging and this hesitation to go. But, it’s either that or go back to an empty house and sit alone with his thoughts. So, he goes. And like always, we’re used to by now, an emergency hits. Maybe part of the mine wasn’t sturdy, maybe a health hazard happened. But either way, Buck manages to get almost everyone out of the wreckage. He’s cohesive, switching to work mode and immediately getting the civilians out first. He gets almost everyone out.
Everyone…except himself.
And by the time he begins to worry about him, the mine shifts even more and rocks block his only entrance. (And unbeknownst to him, he has a new problem; the stones in the cave weren’t fully tested. And the crash from the mine shack only irritated them, starting to release dangerous gases into the air.)
And of course, our lovely 118 is notified of this :) So now, their only concern is getting Buck out of there as fast as possible. Eddie gets his hands on a map from one of the tour guides, and calls Buck. And over the phone says that he’ll guide Buck to the nearest exit, all Buck has to do is follow his voice and his instructions. (He volunteered to be the one to talk Buck through this, so he wouldn’t panic too much. He knows his voice calls Buck down in a way not really anything else could, and vice versa.)
And he hears Buck over the phone. Following his directions, and oh, he sounds so confident. So optimistic that he is getting out of here, that he’s going home. He’s talking about Maddy and how she recommended him here and this is the last time he’s taking her recommendations, he makes jokes like he usually would. He keeps telling Eddie, “wait for me.”
“Wait for me, I’m coming.”
“Wait for me, I’m almost there.”
“Wait for me, I’m coming home.”
(None of them know this “confidence”is actually because the gases are starting to make Buck delirious.)
And maybe if Eddie had just kept talking to him, leading him, Buck would’ve had a chance. All he needed to do was keep listening. But, Eddie was afraid. He was so scared even if he wasn’t showing it and needed to see Buck to know that he was okay. That he was alive.
So, just like Orpheus turned back to see if Eurydice was still there — Eddie facetimed Buck to see if he was still okay.
Just to be met with Buck in a far worser condition than he sounded like he was in over the phone. Buck, slumped against the wall, opted to take just a “small break”. Everyone sees the pale skin, the veins, the shortness of breath. It’s obvious to everyone, Buck isn’t making it out. Eddie hasn’t cried in so long. But he feels his eyes well up with tears, disbelief and despair hitting him like a train.
Buck looks down at the camera, and asks slowly, “Eddie? Why are you—about to cry?”
What could’ve Eddie said? That Buck was dying? That they had nearly three more miles to walk and Buck clearly was in no state to do that? That despite warnings, he breathed in too much of the oxygen provided. And now? He wasn’t coming home. He was going to die in that stupid cave and Eddie didn’t know what was worse. The fact that he knew Buck was going to die and it seemed like Buck didn’t or that he knew Buck was going to die…and he couldn’t save him.
The only thing he can utter is; “…It’s you.”
And he watches as Buck’s eyes slowly drift to his camera, seeing the state that he’s in. And he mumbles back, “…It’s me.”
In honor of me finally joining the Six of Crows community, I decided to write a little something for an AU I crafted. (A Demon Slayer AU) because why not. Give these Crows a demon slayer AU
TRIGGER WARNING: This will include graphic depictions of violence, suicidal thoughts/ideation, POTENTIALLY some spoilers or Infinity Castle (?). Viewer discretion is advised.
Pain.
Pure, grating, pain. The kind that wouldn’t even let him scream or barely grunt at it — that’s what Jesper was feeling, right now, in these woods. He told them that he could handle the demon on his own, following his crow into the woods. So cocky, so sure of himself. The fear he felt when he realized nothing he pulled at this guy was working. He thought—he thought that this would be an easy job. Sure, killing demons was never easy and there was always an expectation that he might die but there was always a ‘might’. A ‘probably’.
Guess he’s not so sure now. Blood from the slash on his collarbones leak onto the forest floor, onto his hands. Every breath feels like glass in his lungs, stabbing over and over again. Like he’s giving it his all to just take one more breath, to live just for a little longer. But for what?
He thinks about his father, the one that was so pained to see him go. Go into the exact lifestyle that got his mother killed. He’d be so disappointed to see how his son turned out. But maybe he would be happy too. He was right — Jesper can’t handle this. He’s just a dumb kid who has no idea what he was doing and just proving his father right.
Jesper starts thinking about death.
Not in a truly morbid way, just in the way he usually does.
Trying to picture himself having this closed-casket, church pews filled, flowers decorating his grave funeral. But for the life of him, can’t see it. Shouldn’t that fact be a little more depressing? That demon slayers die every day, all around the world he isn’t a hint of special? No mourners, no funerals. He had said, but it isn’t until you’re on the brink of death that you think having just one mourner wouldn’t be so bad.
Something hot pours down his fast and he thinks it might be more blood before it patters against his hands. Wet. Clear. Tears. That realization that he is going to die and there is nothing he can do to stop it. His friends are in town, a few miles away from here. He’s completely isolated in this mountain aside from the demon who’s talking pure nonsense to him, reveling in his victory. He’s not going home. He’s gonna die here in this stupid forest wearing this Saintsforsaken uniform. Saints, why did he become a demon slayer? What was it for?
The money? Is he really that greedy?
The thrill? Is he really that stupid?
Maybe to prove his father wrong? To be closer to his mother? And where did that get him? Well, he sardonically thinks, he’ll be closer to her pretty soon. Jesper thinks he might as well just sit here, accept his fate, and pray that it’ll be quick. He closes his eyes, trying to think about something that might take his mind away from this and then—
“Stand up.” Jesper’s eyes shoot open. That was a voice, low and lovely and intimately familiar. He raises his eye from the ground and sees—
“Mama?” Just how he remembered her. Aditi. Dark skin, tribal scarves binding her hair from view for culture but also because she hated it getting in the way and couldn’t bring herself to cut it. Her clothes are made of the cloth, red sash holding a sword at her hip. Her arms are crossed and she’s looking at him like he’s sad. Or stupid. Or probably both. Jesper feels like both.
“You’re a demon slayer now, Jesper.” She says, sternly. “This isn’t the time or the place for tears. Stand. Up.”
And Saints, he wishes he could. But he can feel the blood rising to his throat, his ankles are cut and so were his side. He can feel his heart hammering, a desperate attempt to keep him alive but it feels like his mind is slowly not really seeing it as an option anymore. But he can’t tell her that, no, Jesper couldn’t possibly look at his mother and tell her that he never saw any value in his life in the first place. So, teary-eyed, he just shakes his head and tells, “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” She says, bending down to his level and taking a hold of his shoulders. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt that much and it takes everything he has not to lean into it. She nods, “I know. I know, Jes, I know. I know it hurts. I know you want to scream. I know giving up seems like an easier option. But you made a promise, to your father. Remember?”
Come to think of it, yeah. Jesper did make a promise. He had somehow managed to convince his father to at least go to Final Selection with him, since he was going whether he liked it or not and the only thing Colm could control is whether or not he got to see Jesper before he went beyond the Wisteria. He remembers Colm trying so hard to be strong, so hard to be strong and making sure Jesper had everything.
“Pa, I’m telling you,” Jesper had said, annoyed with it at this point. “I have everything!”
“Oh really?” Colm had said, producing the bullets Jesper could’ve sworn he packed from behind his back. And when Jesper took them, excited he had them, his father still looked at him with that look. The “this is exactly why i didn’t want you to be here” look.
So Jesper had made him a promise, that he would be back, no matter what. That he was coming back home and as soon as he did, Colm was free to fuss over him and give him as much shit for becoming a demon slayer as much as he liked.
But as soon as Jesper’s hand left his, as soon as he began to turn away, all of his father’s resolve shattered. He pulled Jesper back into a hug immediately — so tight, gripping at his jacket, damn near sobbing into his shoulder. And it was so hard not to cry along with him, but one of them had to be the stronger one here. He had rubbed his father’s back, hugged him just as tightly.
“I’m coming back.”
“Okay.”
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“…Daddy, you have to let me go—“
“I know.” Colm’s voice had rose and cracked, like tossing a plate into the air before he softly mumbled, “I know, Jes, I know.” Jesper remembered how it seemed like Colm knew that his son had to go, that there was nothing he could go or say that could get him to not to do this but his body was still having a little trouble accepting it.
“Be a good boy, Jesper.”
“I will.”
“Don’t get into too much trouble. And you write me if anything happens.”
Jesper nodded, and neither of them knew which statement he was nodding to. It felt like a lifetime before Colm finally loosened his grip, and Jesper finally walked away and into the forest. Leaving his father, alone, holding onto that promise he made to him like a lifeline. That his son was coming back. He was coming back home. Jesper made that promise, with all of the conviction in his heart. He knew that his family, his culture, they took promises so seriously. So binding as a blood pact.
“You told your friends you were coming back.”
His friends. His family, now. Kaz, Inej, Wylan, Nina, Matthias. He told them that he’d come back to them. He told them it wouldn’t be that long, he swore to them. As binding as a bloodline, he promised them that he was coming back. It was something they all knew about Jesper, he never made promises lightly.
He thinks about Nina’s larger than life laugh, the kind you could pick out of a crowd.
He thinks about Inej’s once-in-lifetime smiles and her constant appearing behind him.
He thinks about Kaz’s uncaring nature, but how he ran to any of them as soon as he heard them scream or so much as gasp.
He thinks about Matthias’s willingness to change, and how he’s trying so hard.
And he thinks about Wylan — oh, Wylan. He needs to get back to him. He has so much he hasn’t said, so much he hasn’t done. So much he wants to say and wants to do and wants to prove to him.
“You didn’t get this far just to get this far.” Aditi tells him, “You came to win. So win, Jesper. Stand up.” He can’t die here. He can’t die, he refuses to die in this stupid forest and in this stupid uniform. No way. Not after everything he’s done to get to this point, not after all of the promises he made with everything he had in his chest. He’s not dying. The wounds are only fatal if he allows them to get to that point, a little fact about the human body he learned from Nina. If Jesper can keep moving and apply enough pressure and put his all into this last attack, he can win.
He’s going to win. He came here to win.
And for all of the Saints and their suffering, Jesper won’t deny that it hurts. It hurts so much but he can stand. It hurts to blink or even breathe wrong but he grits his teeth and bears it, puts on hand on his side and turns to the demon.
Its eyes widen, disbelief clouding every previous opinion and facial expression it had. “Woah. Scary. And you’re supposed to be human?” Its eyes trail over Jesper’s body, over his wounds, “I slashed your collarbone, your ribs, and your ankles. Even with your tall size, you don’t have that much body fat. How are you not dead on your feet right now?”
And Jesper glares, and can’t help but to smile at the demon’s disbelief before he coughs out blood yet again. He’s never gonna get used to that taste. “See? Right there!” The demon exclaims. “You’re clearly suffering! Why humans give it their all to take one more breath, I’ll never know. I could make it quick, painless, even!” There’s an unsaid “if you just give up”, and just a few minutes ago, Jesper may have taken it up on that offer.
And who knows? Maybe his mother’s spirit from beyond did lightly scold him into standing up and fulfilling the promises he made. Maybe it was a testament of his own willpower, his brain conjuring an image so that he’ll get up and not die. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Jesper’s standing. Jesper has enough in him for one last attack. And Jesper is going home even if he has to crawl his way to it.
He takes a deep breath, spins his revolvers to evenly mix the gunpowder mixture. And he mumbles, “Lightning Breathing, First Form: Hailing Storm God.”
-
EEEEEEEEEE!! I loved writing this so much. I love characterizing Jesper and all of the Crows! I’m probably going to post some of my headcanons for them on here too!! Anyways, comment whatever you thought and let me know if you want me to write more this AU!
