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Summary
"There’s a hand on his arm that he should not be able to feel. He thinks if he has to feel it, it should be cold.
Nick Bradshaw is warm to the touch though, of course he is, even when he shouldn’t be able to touch anything or anyone because he’s fucking dead and Jake Seresin is not... can’t be…"
Or, Jake lingers some place between life and death after a training accident and ghosts are, it turns out, ridiculous goofballs who like to matchmake.