Work Text:
“Get down!”
The 118 was barely able to react before the second shot went off, pinging loudly off the side of the engine. Buck hadn’t hesitated, tackling both Eddie and Hen to the ground, by virtue of them being right next to each other. Bobby tugged Chim down before as one of the windows shattered.
More shots ran out, almost drowning out Bobby frantically calling over the radio for backup. Glass rained down, sirens filled the air, noise made focusing an impossible task.
Even as the police surrounded the shooters, the 118 now had a different but no less difficult task: helping their PTSD-stricken comrades. Eddie had his eyes clamped shut, trying to breathe calmly. Buck was clearly shaking and mentalling reliving the last time they’d ended up in the same situation.
Only after the shooters were hauled away were they able to slowly rise and come to the aid of Buck and Eddie. Quiet words were whispered, hands and shoulders were gripped, careful movements were made to get the two to their feet and over to one of the vehicles that would be taking them back to the station.
But it’d be a long time before they’d be okay.