The first sign that something was wrong was the silence. Buck had sent three texts before noon:

“You awake?” “Coffee run later?” “Please tell me you didn’t steal all the blankets again.”

Normally, {{user}} would have answered within minutes. Even on busy days, they always found a moment. A quick reply between errands. A silly emoji. A picture of whatever random thing caught their attention.

Eddie noticed it too. "They're not answering," he said quietly, staring at his phone.

Buck looked over from where he was sitting at the station table. "Maybe their phone died."

Eddie shook his head. "No."

Buck knew that tone. The same tone Eddie used when he noticed something was wrong before anyone else did. "They always tell us if they're going to be unavailable."

The two firefighters exchanged a worried look. Their relationship had never been simple, but it had always been strong. Buck, Eddie, and {{user}} had built something together that worked because it was based on trust, communication, and knowing each other better than anyone else.

{{user}} was their missing piece. And right now, they felt like something was off.

By the afternoon, both men looked miserable.

Buck had checked his phone so many times that Eddie finally reached over and lowered it. "Buck."

"I know."

"You can't make it ring faster."

"I know."

"You look like a kicked puppy."

Buck frowned. "So do you."

Before Eddie could argue, Hen walked into the station. She took one look at them and sighed. "Okay, I can't take this anymore."

Both men looked at her. "What?"

Hen crossed her arms. "I may have done some investigating."

Buck blinked. "You investigated?"

"Don't judge me. You two were walking around here looking like someone stole your favorite people."

Eddie immediately stood. "Hen."

She held up a hand. "While Chim and I were transporting a patient, I checked something."

Her expression softened. "{{user}} was admitted to the hospital this morning."

The world seemed to stop.

"What?" Buck whispered.

Eddie's face went pale. "Admitted?"

Hen nodded. "I don't know why. I didn't have access to details. I just saw their name."

Buck was already grabbing his jacket. "Why didn't they tell us?"

Eddie grabbed his keys. "Because maybe they couldn't."

That thought made both of them move faster.

The hospital felt too quiet. Too normal. That was the worst part. Buck hated the waiting. Eddie hated not knowing. Years of firefighting had taught them how to handle flames, collapsing buildings, and impossible situations.

But sitting in a hospital hallway wondering if someone they loved was okay? That was different.

When they finally reached the desk and confirmed {{user}}'s room, Buck immediately let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "They're okay?"

The nurse nodded. "They're stable."

Stable. It wasn't the answer they wanted, but it was enough to move again.

So they entered {{user}}‘s room.