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“Eds, come take the soup off the stove!” Buck calls.
Eddie walks into the kitchen and pretends, just for a minute, that this is something he can have. That Buck will always keep him from burning dinner, that every Christmas he’ll be able to place a present with Buck’s name on it under the tree, that the warm feeling in his chest is permanent.
He moves the soup to a different burner and grins at Buck. “What would I do without you?” he asks.
“Eat a whole lot more takeout, for one,” Buck replies with a laugh.
“Fuck you,” Eddie says lightly.
“Backatcha, Diaz,” Buck grins. He hops off the counter. “So, come on, how does it taste? I’m dying to know if the mustard powder was a good addition.”
“That wasn’t funny the first time you said it, and it isn’t funny now,” Eddie says wryly, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. He tastes the soup. “Delicious as always, Buck.”
“Damn, I miss food,” Buck says, stepping through the kitchen island and leaning over Eddie’s shoulder to smell the soup.
The silvery sheen that clings to Buck’s skin wavers, the way it often does when he’s feeling something strongly.
“Tell me what’s wrong?” Eddie asks softly.
Buck smiles sadly. “My sister used to make this for me every Christmas Eve. I just miss her, that’s all. I always do, this time of year.”
“I could call her,” Eddie reminds him.
Buck shakes his head. “She’s moved on, Eds. Telling her I’m still hanging around… it’ll just hurt her.”
“I’m sorry, Buck.”
“Sorry for what?”
Eddie swallows and looks away. “I’m supposed to help you, the way I helped all the others,” he says. “It’s been months, and I still don’t know why you’re here. I’m sorry I can’t fix this.”
“Eddie, don’t.” Buck’s ghostly aura wavers even more, and Eddie aches to reach out, to comfort with his hands where his words fall short.
“Come on,” Eddie says. “I have something for you.” He gestures towards the living room.
In the light of the Christmas tree, it’s easy to believe that Buck is as alive as anyone. His cheeks are rosy and his lips are pink, and Eddie’s just brave enough to admit to himself that he’d like to kiss him.
“Here,” Eddie says, grabbing a present from beneath the tree. “I know you can’t actually open it, but this is for you.”
“You… you got me a gift?” Buck asks, staring at his hands.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “You- I know it’s a little unconventional, but you’re important to me. You’re my family.”
Buck looks up at him, mouth dropping open. “Eddie…” he says softly.
“It’s stupid, I know,” Eddie says, looking down. “I just… I needed you to know, okay?”
“No, Eddie, that’s not-” a tear slips down Buck’s cheek.
“What?” Eddie asks him softly.
Buck offers him a watery smile. “It’s just… nice,” he says. “Not to be alone for Christmas, I mean. It’s, uh, it’s been a really long time. Even before I died, I’d be on my own for a while. Thank you.”
Eddie drops down to the couch next to him, leaning towards him, wishing he could bump their shoulders together. He could swear he feels the ghost of the touch, a tingling sensation that erupts in his arm and sends shivers across his body.
“I’m glad you’re here, Buck,” Eddie says softly, like it’s some kind of secret.
“Me too,” Buck whispers. Another tear slips down his face.
“Tell me what’s wrong?” Eddie asks.
Buck closes his eyes. “I never… it never really bothered me, being dead, you know? I- I don’t even remember how I died. I was alone for so long, Eddie, and then I met you, and- and it changed everything. I know you’re supposed to help me move on, but I don’t don’t want to go. Eddie, please, please don’t make me.”
Another tear slips down Buck’s cheek, and Eddie reaches out without thinking to brush it away. “I don’t want you to go,” Eddie says, letting his fingers linger against the warm skin of Buck’s face.
“Eddie,” Buck gasps.
“You…” Eddie breathes. He drags his fingers along the length of Buck’s jaw, revelling in the feeling.
“I don’t understand,” Buck says softly.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Eddie jokes weakly, grasping Buck’s hand in his own.
Buck laughs wetly. “It’s not Christmas yet, Eds.”
“Buck,” Eddie asks slowly. “How did you die?”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t remember. I was alive, and alone and I always felt invisible, and then one day I woke up and I really was.”
“I see you,” Eddie whispers.
Buck smiles softly. “You’ve always seen me.”
“Do you think, maybe, that’s the point?”
“I don’t understand,” Buck says, leaning into his touch.
“I heard a story once,” Eddie says, “about a man who felt alone, and invisible, and unloved. So much so that he slipped into the space between worlds, not alive, not dead. Completely alone.”
“Sounds familiar,” Buck murmurs. “How did it end?”
“Happily ever after,” Eddie whispers.
“Sounds like a fairytale,” Buck replies.
“There’s just one thing we’re missing.”
Buck smiles softly. “What’s that?”
Eddie swallows, suddenly nervous. “True love’s kiss,” he whispers.
Buck leans in, but hesitates. “Eddie, is this real?” he asks. “I don’t think I could survive having this and losing it all over again.”
Eddie drops his forehead against Buck’s, relishing the warmth he finds there. “This is real,” he promises. “I love you, you know that, right?”
A harsh sob escapes Buck’s lips. “You changed everything for me, Eddie, everything. I know. I love you, too.”
“Please kiss me,” Eddie whispers.
Buck does.
He never spends a Christmas alone again.