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The world stops.
Everything just freezes in the moment.
There’s total silence, not even the steady thump of a heartbeat penetrating the quiet.
Liquid slowly drips down pale skin, leaving a trail of faint red in its path.
The flavors are overwhelming on the tastebuds that aren’t used to the coppery salty sweet liquid that feels thicker and heavier on the tongue than it does dripping down the curves and angles of the face.
Surprise followed by pain, brown eyes finding blue across the distance, lips moving with no sound, a hand reaching out. Then falling. Falling. Falling.
Unable to move. Frozen. Helpless. Watching as the familiar body of his partner lands on asphalt. Hand still reaching for him. Brown eyes open, blood beginning to puddle around the body.
Arms are suddenly on him, pushing Buck to the ground. His hands landing on the asphalt, his gloves ripping on the stones as he slides, a heavy body keeping him down.
Everything happens so fast.
One second, he’s sharing a smile with Eddie, encouraging him to go with Charlie to the hospital. The next second, Buck’s world freezes when Eddie is shot, his blood splattering on Buck’s face, his heart stopping for a moment as he watches Eddie fall. A chorus of thoughts flooding his mind. I love him. I can’t lose him. I have to tell him. He has to know that I choose him and want him and love him no matter what. Repeating themselves as he stares in frozen silence.
The feeling of stones against his bare palms is all it takes to pull Buck out of his frozen daze. More shots ring out, hitting the engine, and Eddie is on the ground, his hand still reaching out to Buck. With a shrug, he gets the body off of his, crawling under the engine, ignoring the slight panic building in his gut at being underneath a truck, his leg twitching slightly at the memory of being crushed. Stretching, he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, pulling him across the pavement towards him.
It isn’t the first time they’ve touched; they’re always touching—nudging and bumping and hugging—but it’s the first time Buck’s felt his skin against Eddie’s bare skin. There’s a tingle in his fingertips, like he’s hovering over an electric socket that’s vibrating with power, but he hasn’t quite touched it yet. Could it? Is it? What if? All this time. Is it Eddie? The half-formed thoughts are racing through his mind as he pulls Eddie to safety, the questions ignored for now as he focuses on keeping Eddie alive.
Captain Mehta is calling it in, his crew making room for Buck and Eddie as they drive to the hospital. At one point, Eddie looks at him, his hand moving again, reaching, reaching, reaching, and he wants to know if Buck’s okay. Stammering words, Buck doesn’t even remember what he says, just watching Eddie close his eyes as they fight to keep him alive until they reach the hospital. When they arrive, the gurney is pulled out, Buck stumbling after it, and he watches Eddie, watches the rise and fall of his chest, and he knows this might be the end. He hears the talking around him even as he tries to ignore it, the concern in Mehta’s voice, the nurses taking report and checking vitals, and he knows he has to make a choice.
His fingertips are still tingling.
It’s a known hint for identifying your soulmate. Buck’s read all the books about soulmates, spending many of his adolescent years learning everything he could about the person who has been connected to his soul for lifetimes. As he got older, he lost the optimistic hope for finding the other half of his soul, seeing the odds as a deterrent instead of a goal to achieve, but he still believed. Still hungered for that undeniable bond that the fortunate ones get to experience. Watched as Maddie met Chim, saw the feelings developing even before they tried the soulmate test, and was there when they touched their palms together and experienced a successful bonding.
This is Eddie, though. Eddie who doesn’t believe in soulmates. Eddie who married his high school girlfriend because she got pregnant and because he loved her even without sharing a soul bond. Eddie who doesn’t bother to wear the thin gloves sold for those who are unbounded and looking for their soulmate. Instead, Eddie keeps his hands bare like those who have bonded or those who have no interest in finding their other half. They’ve discussed it before, soulmates and connections and bonding, and Eddie dislikes the notion of some vague universal force determining who he should love.
If Buck does this, he might gain the insight he’s always wanted, but he could lose Eddie for doing it without his consent. Of course, he could lose Eddie anyway because someone shot him in broad daylight when he was right in front of Buck, and Buck just froze instead of trying to help him. There’s a feeling of guilt in his belly, small and annoying, starting to fester and grow already, and Buck knows it’s going to get worse, knows he wishes it were him on the gurney losing blood instead of Eddie, knows he should have done something in the moment instead of freeze.
How have they been partners for nearly four years without touching? Buck doesn’t understand it, can’t help feeling like he’s treading water in another tsunami, trying not to drown as his brain attempts to process everything. The thing is, Buck loves Eddie. He’s been in love with Eddie for years, but he’s always known it was hopeless because they aren’t soulmates. For some reason, he’s convinced himself that they must have touched, must have had fingers press against bare skin at some point, and it’s only now with his fingers tingling that he realizes he’s wrong.
While Eddie might not believe, Buck does. He could never bring himself to admit his feelings to Eddie because of the possibility of finding his soulmate one day. Buck couldn’t promise his heart to Eddie and only Eddie if there’s a chance that he might find the person who’s meant to be his, after all, because he loves him too much to ever risk hurting him that way. And Eddie’s never really tried, never brought it up even if Buck thinks sometimes that Eddie might have similar feelings for him. They’re partners, best friends, and that’s always been enough because it’s all Buck ever thought he could have.
They start to take Eddie away, rolling the gurney further into the hospital, and Buck feels a rush of fear spreading throughout his body. If Eddie doesn’t survive, he’ll never know. He’ll be left wondering, tingling fingers the only proof that he might have inadvertently found his soulmate years ago, never able to say he loved and lost his other half with any certainty. If Eddie lives, God please let him live, Buck could talk to him, see if he’s willing to try the soulmate test, give him the option without taking that choice from him.
As he watches Eddie get further away, Buck pulls the gloves off his hands, the thin material ripped and bloody as he clenches it in his hands. He gets a flash of a memory, of Eddie being shot and reaching his hand out to Buck, and he takes off after the stretcher. When he catches up, he reaches for Eddie’s left hand, moving between the nursing staff and getting in the way like the selfish asshole he can be sometimes.
When Buck presses his palm flat against Eddie’s left palm, there’s a wave of energy that rushes through him. On the stretcher, Eddie makes a noise, his body shuddering as the same energy spreads through him. Buck stumbles back as he’s forced to let go of Eddie’s hand, memories flooding his mind, bits and pieces of a shared past bringing him to his knees as he slides down the wall and clutches his head. He’s seen the bonding before, but he never understood how much power is involved, how much force is put on the brain as the connection he shares with Eddie unlocks the memories of lifetimes lived together, souls shining brightly throughout these different lives.
Someone puts a trash can beside him, and he hears Mehta murmuring something about awful timing before he turns his head and throws up. The memories are too much, make no sense, it’s like dreaming while awake, his senses overwhelmed. Maddie never told him about this, never said it hurts like this, made it seem so easy and romantic instead of painful and overwhelming. His emotions are heightened from the shooting, from the possibility of losing Eddie, and now he’s unlocked the soul bond on his own, Eddie unconscious and being rushed to surgery, and he feels his body shaking as he closes his eyes and tries to make it stop.
Their history is long and varied. It’s bits and pieces, lives they lived, reflections of faces that are nothing like their own. Once the rush finally stops, he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes, knowing this isn’t the time to explore those lifetimes, not when Eddie’s in surgery, and Buck might end up losing him before he truly ever has him. He needs to tell Christopher, needs to call Bobby and the others, needs to tell Ana that Eddie’s—what? He can’t tell her that they’re soulmates, not when Eddie isn’t conscious and has no idea. He isn’t sure what choice Eddie will even make; since he doesn’t believe in soul bonds dictating his life choices, he might choose to continue casually dating Ana. He might be angry with Buck, might not want him in his life regardless of their soul’s connection, and Buck knew that when he chose to touch Eddie’s palm with his own.
The fact that Eddie reached for him—not once, but three separate times after being shot—gives Buck hope that maybe Eddie somehow felt in his gut that they were soulmates, and that’s why he kept offering his hand to Buck. Because Eddie’s smarter than Buck in most areas, more observant by far, and he probably knows they’ve never touched skin to skin, must have because Buck’s never consciously refrained from it, so that means it must have been Eddie who was careful and cautious about not touching even accidentally.
To have been best friends for several years and never touched hands requires effort and deliberate avoidance, after all. Buck’s touched a lot of people over the years, since he doesn’t usually bother wearing gloves when he’s at home or with friends who have already found their soulmates. Honestly, he believed that he and Eddie must have touched at some point because he’d have sworn that they couldn’t be soulmates no matter how much he loves Eddie and how drawn to him he’s always been because the touching never indicated it. Looking back, he knows he’s wrong about it, and the pain in his head is proof.
There’s an inner conflict that Buck has to fight when he finally feels like he can get up and do something. Part of him wants to stay at the hospital, needs to stay close to his soul mate, should try to parcel through all of the memories that were just unlocked. The other part, though, wants to go see Christopher, needs to tell him about the shooting before he accidentally hears about it, isn’t interested in exploring memories until he knows if Eddie’s going to survive or not. The decision is made for him when he looks up and sees Bobby entering the waiting room.
Bobby can stay at the hospital while Buck goes to see Christopher.
After changing into a clean shirt and haphazardly wiping the blood off his face, Buck leaves the hospital. He runs into Taylor outside, who takes one look at him and somehow seems to know that he’s falling apart inside even if he’s doing a great job of hiding that fact from everyone else. Really, it’s his own fault for befriending the woman when he knows how ruthless and cunning she truly can be, but he’s kind of grateful for their friendship right now because she takes control and doesn’t pester him with questions despite the fact that she obviously has many. She’ll interrogate him later, he's sure, but he might have some answers by then.
Time sort of becomes weird after he leaves the hospital. No, even before that. It’s like he’s walking through his life without really being part of it. Words are being said, spoken from his lips, but he couldn’t tell anyone what he’s talked about. It’s almost like he’s still frozen in a world that just stopped when Eddie got shot, and his body’s going through the motions without his consciousness being part of things.
It’s only later, after he’s received a text from Bobby and sobbed in Christopher’s arms, that he starts to feel like he can finally breathe. It’s still not normal, though. Something is unsettled, like his skin doesn’t quite fit anymore, and his mind is so full that it almost hurts, though that’s probably also from the headache and stress after everything’s that happened today. After Chris goes to bed, Buck falls asleep on the couch, his face pressed against a decorative pillow as his subconscious finally takes over when his tightly gripped control loosens.
Waking up is difficult. The dreams are memories, the vividness so real that it’s like being back in them, all the swirling flashes and bits finally piecing together into lifetimes that’ll take days, weeks, months, even years to fully remember in detail. When Buck blinks his eyes open, the scent of rain and itchy feeling of hay and sound of horses neighing lingers around him. Reaching up, he touches his chest, feeling the familiar muscles beneath his t-shirt, the soft fat covering his abdomen. This is Eddie’s couch in Los Angeles, not a rundown farm in some unknown land where the language spoken is unknown.
The name is at the tip of his tongue, an image of a man with light hair and green eyes coming to mind when he closes his eyes, Eddie but not Eddie. Horses. Rain. Hay. He was a woman, he realizes, his soul belonging to her as she met her own soulmate. Another blink and the man is old, wrinkles and gray hair, same green eyes, same smell of wet grass and sound of horses, looking down to see a delicate hand showing signs of age holding his hand, knowing it was a life well-lived and loved.
As he gets to his feet, he has other flashes. Fighting in a battle, back-to-back, the sound of swords clanging, small and wiry, fast, moving together like it’s a dance, one that ends much too soon as they fight for their lives, hands touching as they fall to the ground, slain within moments of each other. Another flash, sun high above, heat and sweat, camels bleating, rough hands reaching for softer hands, dark eyes and dark hair and dark skin and a soul that is so comfortable and familiar that it’s amazing that it took so many years to locate in this lifetime. Another step, another flash. Soft fur beneath bare skin. The smell of fire and dirt making Buck’s nose twitch, hands and bodies touching, lips and teeth, walls of a cave.
When he reaches the bathroom, he’s had three more flashes. A piano with a petite woman on the bench, her hands moving expertly over the keys, a loving smile on her face as she looks up at him—no, not him, her. He’s a her, and they share a home, and no one knows about them because soulmates aren’t God’s plan, but they’ve found each other anyway. A dark sky full of stars, snow covering the mountains around them, talking about tracking the—he doesn’t understand the words that the man with the pale hair and light eyes is saying, but he knows he’s following him, his strong hands gripping a spear as they share smiles and laughter while hunting their prey. A party with people wearing clothes like they’re in a movie, an orchestra playing music as people dance, a dark balcony where a clandestine meeting happens, lips against lips, strong hands gripping his, callouses rubbing against smooth skin.
The bathroom is empty. Buck uses the toilet before putting the commode lid down, resting his elbows on his knees. Dozens of lives over thousands of years. Reading about it is vastly different than experiencing it. No one talks about the senses, about the pain it causes to have so many memories fighting for attention, how it takes over your sleep like dreams you’re living through. Buck’s known that each life is different, has known that things like gender and sexuality and race are inconsistent, but it’s different to experience it via memories. To have breasts, to give birth, to be short or tall or to live in a place where religion overshadows soulmates destiny or to be part of a culture where soulmates are celebrated as divine gifts from the gods above.
Now that he’s awake, he can control it better. He can focus on the present, think about the future, and the past lives that he’s lived can be set aside for later. He’s Evan Buckley, twenty-nine years old, living in Los Angeles, and his soulmate is Eddie Diaz, twenty-nine years old, also living in Los Angeles. He’s Buck, a firefighter with the LAFD, and he’s bisexual.
This morning, he has to take Christopher to school then he can go to the hospital. Carla’s going to pick Chris up after school, and she’ll stay until later tonight when Buck can come back to stay the night with Chris. It’s all arranged, and they’ll make plans for tomorrow depending on Eddie’s condition. The surgery was a success, his shoulder has been fixed, and he’s expected to make a full recovery after several weeks of PT and rest. They gave him pain meds yesterday, and he was sleeping, so Bobby told Buck not to worry about coming back to the hospital until today.
Since Buck’s in charge of breakfast, he fries up some bacon and eggs, the smell of frying meat making him flash to a memory of wildness and trees and burning meat on sticks that’s shared with his bedmate. Blinking, he makes a mental note to start writing down some of what he sees so he can research it. It’s a shame that the unlocked memories don’t come with unlocked abilities because he’d love to speak all of these languages in his memories.
Unfortunately, that’s not how the whole soulmate slash past lives thing works. It does explain how easily he learned how to ride horses at the ranch in Montana, though. It isn’t unusual for people to retain an affinity to some things that made recurring appearances in their previous lifetimes. He wonders if cooking is one of those, considering how interested he’s been in learning when Bobby offered to teach him. Several of his flashes have shown him kitchens or food, so it makes sense.
After dropping Chris off at school, he gets a text message from Ana. Eddie’s awake, and he wants to see him. Ana’s at the hospital. Eddie asked Ana to text him. A knot of worry and fear starts to build in his gut next to the guilt that’s still there from yesterday. What’s done is done, and Buck knows he made a selfish choice, but he’d do it again every single time if it came down to Eddie dying without Buck knowing for sure if they were soulmates or not. He can’t even really apologize for it because he isn’t sorry that he did it, doesn’t regret it because the alternative would have been indescribable to live with for the rest of his life.
Hopefully, Eddie will understand and eventually forgive him. If not, well, Buck’s a grown-up, and he understands there are consequences to the actions he’s taken, so he’ll have to figure out a way to live without Eddie. There have been lifetimes that were cut short because of disease or famine or battle, but the bond and the love don’t end, even if the soul is in limbo waiting to be reborn and found once again. It doesn’t make sense—how it all works—but it’s one of those things that’s just always existed. You have to have faith in it, and it happens however it’s supposed to, which is why Eddie has trouble believing in the whole soulmate thing.
When Buck arrives at the hospital, he goes upstairs to Eddie’s floor. He makes his way down the hallway until he sees his room, needing to lay eyes on him, to see that he’s truly okay and alive and still breathing. Ana’s standing by the bed, and she turns when Buck opens the door, a small smile on her lips as she looks at him. In the bed, Eddie’s sitting up, his shoulder wrapped with bandages and a sling, his eyes settling on Buck as he stands by the door and stares.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says, his lips curving into a slight smile as he raises his left hand. Ana grabs her purse and touches his shoulder before she walks past Buck. She pats his arm on her way out, but he’s so focused on Eddie that he doesn’t even notice.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Buck says, blurting it out as he walks towards the bed. “I shouldn’t have—not without asking—but I didn’t know if you were going to die because there was so much blood, and I never even realized we hadn’t—but I grabbed your wrist, and I felt it—and I had to know in case I lost you.”
“Buck, calm down,” Eddie says gently. “Sit and breathe for me. You’re going to work yourself into a panic attack at this rate. You didn’t lose me. I’m right here. Banged up and bruised but alive. I’m going to be fine.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Buck admits, sitting in the empty chair on the left side of the bed. “The other people who got shot didn’t make it. They think the sniper has some kind of issue with the LAFD because there were more firefighters shot after you.”
“Yeah, the police came to question me after I woke up earlier,” Eddie says, still watching Buck like he’s not sure what to expect. “I fell back asleep soon after, but they mentioned a sniper, and there’s a guard outside the room, just in case. I don’t really remember much about it. I was talking to you then I felt something hit my shoulder and it kind of blurs after that. I mostly remember you then waking up feeling like my brain was going to explode because there’s too much in it now.”
“Bobby said you’ll have PT for several weeks,” Buck says, curling his fingers into his palms as he bounces his right foot. “I’m a selfish ass, Eddie. I did my usual ‘making everything about me’ bullshit, and I kinda convinced myself that you wanted to do the bonding because you, like, reached your hand out to me before you fell, but I know what I did was wrong.”
“I did reach out to you,” Eddie murmurs, catching Buck’s gaze and holding it. “It wasn’t a conscious decision, Buck, but I got shot, and I saw blood, and I reached for you because I had to know if I was right. I’ve suspected that we might be soulmates for a while, you know? I’ve just never met anyone like you before, the way we fit so well, like you’re the missing piece in my life’s puzzle. You never brought it up, though. I wasn’t sure if that meant you didn’t want to know or if maybe I wasn’t what you wanted, so I decided to just wait until you asked me to do the test.”
“Eddie, I’ve been in love with you since we survived a broken building during an earthquake,” Buck whispers, smiling sheepishly, “if not from the moment we shook hands after that whole grenade thing. You’ve everything that I’ve ever wanted, and I never said anything because I believe in soulmates and didn’t want to hurt you in the future if I happened to find mine.” He ducks his head and sighs. “I didn’t realize until I took your wrist that we haven’t actually ever touched bare skin to bare skin. In my mind, we must have early on in our friendship, which meant we weren’t soulmates no matter how I felt about you.”
“Oh,” Eddie says quietly, his lips curved into a slight frown as he looks at Buck. “It isn’t just touching, you know? It has to be hands against hands to feel the awareness, and palm to palm to test the bond. We’ve touched each other over the years, Buck, but it’s been my hand against your shoulder or hugging or your hand against my arm. I assumed you didn’t want to know, so I was careful not to touch your hands or wrist all this time.” He bites his bottom lip. “Are you only here because we’re soulmates?”
“No,” Buck says firmly. “I told you, Eddie. I’m in love with you, and I have been for years. I almost said something last year, when you got stuck in the well and I almost lost you, but I was too scared to tell you how I felt, especially without us being soulmates. I know you aren’t interested in finding yours, but I always have been, ever since I was a lonely kid. Watching you get shot yesterday, the only thought I had was that I couldn’t lose you, that I loved you, and that I had to tell you. That was before I touched you, Eddie. Before I felt the tingling in my fingers. I was going to give up on the whole soulmate thing in order to share a life with you.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” Eddie says, holding out his hand as Buck moves the chair closer. When Buck takes his hand, there’s a zap of electricity, and Eddie wraps his fingers around Buck’s before squeezing gently. “I wasn’t going to live my life based around some unknown soulmate that’s predestined to be my other half or whatever it is that they say about them. I’ve always known that I was going to love whoever I love, and I didn’t need to unlock past lives to somehow know that I was in love. I loved Shannon, Buck. She gave me Christopher, and I was an awful husband for most of our marriage, but I did love her. It’s just…I’m in love with you, and you’ve had my back since shortly after we met. I didn’t need to confirm that we’ve lived dozens of lifetimes together to know how I feel about you. I still would have chosen you anyway.”
Leaning down, Buck presses a kiss against the knuckles of Eddie’s hand. “How bad was it for you?” he asks, smiling wryly. “The memories, I mean. I’ve been having flashes since yesterday, some majorly heavy dreams that were difficult to wake from earlier, and there’s this weird thing with my senses that isn’t mentioned in any of the books I’ve read. Maddie never told me about it, either, which is something I’m planning to discuss with her because I woke up on your couch smelling, like, wet horses nearby.”
“The surgeon thinks the boost of power that I must have received when we bonded is likely what helped me survive the surgery,” Eddie says, his tone matter of fact even as Buck unconsciously squeezes his hand at that news. “I’d lost a lot of blood, the bullets were in deep, and things were touch and go apparently. As the memories, I’ve been coming out of anesthesia and have some really good pain meds on board, so they haven’t seemed too bad.” He arches his brow and smiles slightly. “Bit weird to have memories of being a woman, I have to admit, but anesthesia always causes such odd dreams that it’s been pretty normal.”
“Be glad you’re medicated then,” Buck says, snorting as he rubs his thumb over Eddie’s palm. “It’s kind of like watching snippets of a movie, only you can feel things. Like, okay, so, in my case, I seem really attuned to the smell of things in the memories and how things feel, but I haven’t really had any lingering tastes, and only some sounds stick around. Thank God about the tastes, though, because I don’t even know what I’m eating in some of the flashes, and I don’t think I want to know.”
“Maybe they’ll keep me on the good drugs until everything’s unlocked,” Eddie says, wrinkling his nose. “I’m happy to experience the flashes without engaging my senses if that’s what it’s like. There were a few times when I woke up briefly, thought I’d heard something, but then I was out again pretty fast, so I can’t say for sure. Are you already taking notes about what you’re seeing in order to do research? If so, I can try to make some notes when I’m not so out of it.”
“I’m not yet, but, uh, yeah. I was thinking about doing it once I knew how you were going to react to everything,” Buck admits. “I’m really curious because some things kind of look like something I’d have seen in a movie, and other things are just random and weird. Like ‘I think I should get Maddie chocolates for the rest of her life for enduring the pain of childbirth that I can now sort of oddly relate to after one memory I had’ kind of weird. Something else that they leave out of the books I read as a kid.”
“I doubt that’s something they’d be adding to books about soulmates that are geared towards kids,” Eddie points out, huffing a laugh before grimacing. “I’m supposed to get out of here in a couple of days if everything goes well. We should probably talk about our relationship, what we’re wanting to happen between us—”
“I want to marry you,” Buck blurts out, shrugging when Eddie blinks at him. “Sorry, I should have let you finish, but I know what I want, Eddie. I want to be your husband, to grow old together, to live a full life in this lifetime that’ll be one our future selves will want to look back on fondly when our souls are reborn because I know they’ll always find each other. We’re forever, and I knew that even before we realized we’re soulmates and bonded.”
“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says, his thumb rubbing the back of Buck’s hand. “Sure, I’ll marry you, Buck. After I get discharged, we can plan something. I’ve already had one wedding, so we can do whatever you want for our ceremony—something big or simple, eloping in Vegas or hitting the courthouse like Bobby and Athena. As long as I’m marrying you, I don’t care how we do it. Maybe we can go on a date, too. Before or after the wedding, whatever. I’d just like to date you. Oh, and you should move in. We’re keeping your bed and getting rid of mine. I’ve missed your mattress since we shared during quarantine.”
“Maybe I should properly ask you to marry me when you aren’t under the influence of some major pain meds,” Buck suggests, grinning when Eddie yawns and blinks blearily at him. “You’re getting sleepy, baby. Why don’t you get some rest? We can talk more about our future later.”
“Don’t leave,” Eddie says, yawning again. He tightens his grip on Buck’s hand and tugs. “Wanna kiss you, Buck. Come kiss me. Been waiting forever for you to finally kiss me.”
“Forever, huh?” Buck stands up and leans over, pressing a very gentle kiss against Eddie’s lips before sitting back down. “Don’t pout, Eddie. You’ll get a real kiss when you aren’t stuck in the hospital bed. Alright?”
“Promise?” Eddie looks at him and smiles, looking relaxed and happy despite his injuries and everything that’s happened in such a short time.
“I promise. All the kisses you want after you’re discharged,” Buck says, reaching over to brush Eddie’s hair off his forehead. He has a flash of a memory, a man lying in a bed with eyes that are exactly like Eddie’s but nothing else similar, and Buck leans forward again to press a kiss against Eddie’s forehead, echoing a memory of their souls from a lifetime ago.
“Love you, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, his eyelids fluttering as he fights going to sleep. “Gonna tell Christopher ‘bout us. He’ll be happy. He loves you, too.” He opens his eyes wider and looks at Buck, holding his gaze. “You’re mine, Buck. All mine. Never letting you go.”
“We can tell him later, when you’re feeling better.” Buck sits back down holding Eddie’s hand in his as he watches him slowly drift back to sleep. His earlier fear is gone, replaced by contentment and happiness, and the feeling of being settled—like he’s found where he belongs. “I’m yours, Eddie. And you’re mine. Try to get some rest now. We’ll take more later. We have a lifetime ahead of us, after all.”