"Maddie. C'mon. Please."

"Tired. G'way."

"I'm not leaving," he replies firmly, in that "I'm not messing around voice" that he uses often, but almost never with her.

"Mmm going back to-"

"No, not on the couch, at least. Maddie, it's one. You were supposed to meet me for lunch at eleven. Have you been asleep all day? You never sleep in. You're always up freakishly early. Did you not sleep last night? You didn't have the night shift yesterd-"

"Buck, leave," she groans, closing her eyes again only to have Buck clap his hands in front of her face to startle her into opening them.

"You don't feel warm," he murmurs, with that bewildered look of his, "but you look like hell. What doesn't feel good?"

"Tired. Not sick. Go. Away."

"No, this is weird," he sighs, biting his lip and running through all the medical training he is required to have as a firefighter-non-paramedic, "can barely keep your eyes open, pale, sleeping excessively, limited unawareness…" but of course, she's asleep by the team he finishes running through his laundry list of concerning but nonspecific symptoms of almost every ailment ever.

The thing is, it's not like Maddie doesn't know what she's doing to herself. She's a nurse, or at least, she used to be one. She has a hard time piecing together her identity after being abducted by and having to kill her ex-husband.

But regardless, she does have a nursing degree and appropriate licensure. She knows what an eating disorder is; she's met many women, and more men than you'd think in the emergency room having medical catastrophes because of them. Even watched a few of them dying. That's how you learn that it's not some superficial "I just want to be skinny" thing. You can't watch someone die from it and believe it's that simple or trivial. Or voluntary.

Deep down, she knows it's about Doug, but she wants to forget he exists. So she's starving herself. Well, it's not as linear as that, but she knows the trauma is the heart of her eating disorder.

Which she doesn't have, even though she knows that she does, even though the therapist that Sue has been making her see has brought it up time and time again.

Because the other thing is, she knows these things don't just go away on their own, and that they're hard as hell to kick. And she's tired. She doesn't want to deal with it.

So she doesn't. She just lets it run its course. The thing that's happening. The diet that's not a diet. She knows. She just won't admit it. Not fully to herself, and not at all to anyone she knows. Her therapist might have a lucky guess, but no one else has a clue.

Or at least, they didn't. Sleep through lunch with your brother one time and he's concerned you're severely anemic, which in all fairness, she might be.

And of course he calls Chimney, who is lying down on a bunch of pillows beside the couch when she wakes up.

He's so fucking perfect she could cry, if she wasn't so exhausted.

"Maddie, hey, you awake, sweetheart?" He asks, sitting up and trying to get a good look at her face, fingers on her neck near instantaneously because of course he's in paramedic mode.

"Mmmm," she groans, trying to shake herself awake so he doesn't freak out like Buck did, though she supposes that ship may have already sailed considering he felt the need to lie on the floor next to the couch for god knows how long.

"Hey, Maddie, I need you to wake up for me a bit, okay? I need to ask you a few questions."

"No. No questions. M'fine."

"Sorry, questions incoming. Your dating a paramedic who heard you weren't feeling too good."

"Just tired," she whines, waving her hand dismissively, "what time is it?"

"Little after three," he says with a sad little smile, "was going to wake you up at 3:30 if didn't wake up on your own."

"How long have you been here?" she asks with a yawn, forcing herself to sit up a bit and keeping her most neutral face as she experiences the headrush.

"Well, not too long after Buck called me," is all he says with a nervous chuckle, which she knows is Chimney for "I might have broken a few traffic laws on the way over."

"I'm fine," she protests weakly, which is met with A Look, "just really tired. Been a long week."

"Has anything happened that made it more tiring than a normal week for you?" He asks as diplomatically.

"Just stuff. Calls. Stress," she says, knowing it's not the greatest answer but she's still waking up and her head always feels a little fuzzy these days.

"You been sleeping alright?"

"Chim-"

"Maddie, humor me?" he asks with a bit of desperation that makes her feel… sad, for reasons she can't quite pinpoint.

"I'm fine, Chimney," she lies, feeling a bit sadder, "just… tired. I'll be good as new tomorrow."

"Well, I'm going to stay with you until tomorrow," he says steadily, scanning her face, "until I have to leave for work in the morning. I'm a bit worried you're coming down with something so we're going to take it easy, okay?"

"I have to work tonight."

"I'll be the judge of that," he says gently, but with sincerity, and Maddie thinks maybe, just maybe, she might be screwed.