Chapter Text
Eddie wakes up because someone is sitting on the edge of his bed.
For a second, he thinks it’s Chris. Nightmare, bad dream, glass of water. But the room is too still. The air feels wrong—thick, charged, like the moment before lightning.
Then he hears it.
“Ed?”
The voice punches straight through him. Familiar. Impossible.
Eddie jerks upright, heart slamming into his ribs. His breath stutters and stops.
Buck is sitting on the bed.
Alive.
Whole.
Looking at him with that soft, crooked half-smile Eddie knows as well as his own reflection.
“Hey,” Buck says, like he just came in from the kitchen, like the world isn’t splitting in two. “You okay?”
Eddie can’t speak. His hands are shaking so hard the mattress trembles.
Buck’s brows pinch. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Eddie makes a sound that doesn’t sound human. A strangled gasp, a broken prayer.
“Buck,” he whispers. It’s plea and confession in one syllable.
“Yeah?” Buck’s voice is gentle, careful.
Eddie reaches out, expecting his hand to pass through air, for the vision to shatter.
He doesn’t.
Buck is solid. Warm. Real beneath Eddie’s trembling fingers.
He cups Buck’s face because he has to, because he can’t not. His thumb drags over a familiar cheekbone, the rough edge of stubble.
Buck closes his eyes and leans into the touch.
“You’re here,” Eddie chokes.
“Where else would I be?” Buck frowns. “You sounded upset.”
Eddie’s chest caves. His lungs forget their job. Tears blur his vision.
“I—I saw you die,” Eddie rasps. “I watched you. I was right there, Buck—God, I—”
Buck’s eyes fly open, confusion flashing across his face. “Eddie, what? No, no, I’m right here. I’m fine.”
Eddie shakes his head so hard it hurts. “You’re not. You’re not, this isn’t—”
The words collapse.
Buck reaches up, thumb catching a tear before it falls. His hand is warm against Eddie’s cheek.
“Ed, breathe,” Buck murmurs. “Please.”
Eddie grabs Buck’s wrist and presses his palm against his own chest, forcing him to feel the wreckage pounding there.
“I buried you,” Eddie whispers. “I carried your casket.”
All the color drains from Buck’s face.
The air shifts, sharp and electric.
“Eddie…” Buck breathes. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”
Eddie’s whole body shudders. “Please don’t go.”
Buck’s eyes shine now, mirroring Eddie’s terror. “I don’t want to,” he admits, voice barely there. “But I don’t know how long I have.”
Eddie’s fingers tighten in Buck’s shirt. He’s not going to waste it. Not this time. Not again.
“I didn’t get to tell you,” Eddie blurts, the words tearing through his throat. “I didn’t—God, Buck, I never told you—”
Buck lifts a hand and cups the side of Eddie’s neck, thumb settling in the hollow beneath his ear. Steadying. Reverent.
“Tell me now,” he says softly. “Before I have to go.”
Eddie breaks.
The dam he’s held behind his teeth for years finally gives.
“I love you,” he sobs. The words spill out, each one ripping him open. “I love you, Buck. I’m in love with you. I have been for so long, I—”
Buck’s eyes close like the words hit him physically.
His breath leaves him in a shaky rush.
“Say it again,” he whispers.
“I love you,” Eddie repeats, desperate, afraid the universe will take the words back. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Buck laughs—a soft, broken sound that’s more sob than anything.
“I love you too,” he breathes.
The room hums. A soft glow edges Buck’s shoulders, so faint Eddie thinks it might be his eyes.
Eddie surges forward, dragging Buck into a crushing hug. Buck wraps around him just as tightly, arms banded across Eddie’s back like he never plans on letting go.
Eddie feels him. Muscle, warmth, heartbeat. It’s all there. It’s all wrong.
“Don’t leave again,” Eddie begs into his shoulder. “Please, Buck. I can’t—you can’t—”
Buck’s fingers curl in the fabric at Eddie’s spine.
“I wish I could stay,” he murmurs. “More than anything.”
The light grows brighter.
Buck’s body starts to feel… lighter. Not gone. But less anchored. Less here.
“No,” Eddie gasps, clinging harder. “No, no, no, you just got here—”
“Ed.” Buck pulls back just enough to press their foreheads together. His eyes are bright, overflowing. “Take care of Chris. And let yourself be loved, okay? You deserve that.”
Eddie’s heart splinters.
“Not without you.”
Buck’s smile softens, wrecked and fond. “You already know how,” he says. “You’ve been doing it this whole time.”
The light surges.
Eddie grabs for him as he dissolves in his arms, fingers closing on empty air.
“BUCK!”
He’s gone.
The room is dark. Silent. Empty.
Eddie collapses forward onto the cold sheets where Buck just was, dragging in air like he’s drowning. His chest aches, his throat burns, and the echo of I love you too rings in his head until he sobs himself hoarse.
When he finally passes out, it’s with his hands still stretched toward the space Buck left behind.