Archive of Our Own

Despite Buck’s many thoughts regarding his feelings for Daniel, he isn’t entirely sure how things would pan out should he not have killed the other man. Even now, his every confession always gets stuck in his throat when he tries to voice it out. Every now and then, when he comes back to visit Daniel’s grave, he does his best to talk to him, seeking forgiveness from someone who isn't there to listen. And every time, he pauses before he gets to say it. 

He had laid Daniel to rest directly beneath a tree, maybe it was particularly selfish, but he had wanted a place to lean against every time he visited, sue him. It was late in the evening on the weekend, and just like any other week, Buck had sat against the tree, quietly talking about the random things that stuck out to him on a day to day basis, the type of stuff Daniel would joke about, if he was there.

The warmth of the sun slowly faded away and Buck couldn’t help but crack the slightest smile at how ironic it was. It was surprising, to Buck, most of all, how much the absence of one person could affect him. For the one who wasn't dead, Buck sure started looking more and more lifeless each day, character growing colder and colder. Just like the sun, Daniel took the light away in his absence. 

Buck could see the image of Daniel in his peripheral vision, looking at him, “Why are you here, man?” Daniel asks him, and despite knowing none of it was real, Buck couldn't stop himself from replying, from gazing up at the eyes of his late friend. The question makes him ask himself, too. He visited more often now. Maybe it was the gunshot wound in his abdomen that still makes him wince when he thinks about it, not being able to come around and sit with Daniel while he was recovering. He’s making up for lost time. It could also be the idea that the pain he suffered was barely a percentage of what Daniel went through.

“I know you’re not exactly fond of me, Daniel, but it feels only right considering the circumstances,” he says, voice softer than usual. It always seemed to be that way when he spoke at Daniel’s grave, the cold face he adopted shedding when it was just the two of them, even in death.

Daniel scoffs at him, loud, almost in his ear. “The ‘circumstances’? Of you killing me? Yeah, no shit I’m not fond of you.” It kind of startled Buck a little. Normally, the image of Daniel that he sees doesn't talk so much, he normally just stands and watches. It was unnerving, to say the least, especially with the tone of his voice so.. biting. 

There really wasn't any use in responding. Buck could just choose to ignore him and he’d probably go away, that's what he normally did when it got bad. Inhale a sharp breath, and focus on whatever it was he was doing at the moment, and it would fade away. Still, the slight shift in personality this time made him reply anyway. “I’m well aware, Daniel.” He pauses, the rational part of his brain questioning why he was still entertaining whatever this was. However, Buck gave up on ‘rational’ quite some time ago. “...I did like you, you know.” Much more than that, actually. I don’t know why I can't say it out loud. Maybe because if I do, it makes it real. And if it’s real, then I’ve lost my chance. 

“You’ve said. Then you shot a bullet through my head, so I don’t know how true that is, Buck,” Daniel immediately retorts. It would be very easy to will him away, but no matter how hard Buck focuses on something, anything, he won't go away.

Buck only manages to mutter under his breath, “Get out of my head, Daniel.” A futile attempt at quieting his own racing thoughts.

Daniel’s expression twists, looking almost puzzled as he speaks, “You know I can’t do that, right?” Buck leans further against the tree, propping his elbow up on his knee as he pinches the bridge of his nose. It normally works. He doesn't get why not now. It’s gotten worse, he thinks. He’s truly beyond deranged now. 

“Daniel,” Buck whispers, his voice filled with the same pain from that very day, reflected in the dullness of his eyes. Maybe he isn’t doing enough. This time, Daniel seemed a lot more real, like his existence is a lot more plausible than it normally is. Maybe Buck just can’t find it himself to let him go. That would be a safe assumption, probably not a false one. 

Buck couldn't help but stare, he never could help himself, really. Always figured it was some sort of random habit he’d picked up. If he knew then…

Well, things would certainly turn out differently now.

He took note of how despite this image seeming to be alive, Daniel’s eyes never regained the same shine they once had. Pity, Buck always thought the slight glint of reflected light made him look absolutely adorable. Buck watched the stray strands of hair that fell in Daniel’s face, slightly unkempt, perfectly suiting his character. He had the same jacket on as the day he died. He normally did when Buck sees him, always dressed in the very outfit Buck last saw him in, like some fucked up form of punishment only the divine could come up with. It also was the same jacket that Buck kept at his place, the same one he put on when he was going out on more casual occasions. If he looks for long enough, he can almost see the face that was staring down the barrel of his gun, bruised and beaten, eyes desolate save for defiant fear.

Buck was always seen as a bit uptight, the persona becoming true to his character now, at least around others. Now more than ever, the presence of other people around him, poking around in his space was irritating, not that he ever enjoyed it anyway. He used to associate that sort of behavior with Daniel, always prodding to try and find out more about him, he was quite successful at it actually. Of course he was. Buck’s self control was strong, yes, but it always faltered ever so slightly in Daniel’s presence. He almost let it slip that very day. In the back of his mind, he wishes he did. 

“No, I don’t get it, Buck. You kill me, bury me, then visit my grave and say that you ‘liked’ me, whatever the fuck that means.” Daniel sounds so real, like he was really there. Like if Buck took a step back from logic, he could pretend that this was happening, that it was just any other day with Daniel. There was something so natural about it, almost as if it were the order of the world. 

The realness of it all makes everything much more surreal, somehow. It was like a dream, or maybe a nightmare, having Daniel here but him resenting Buck to the greatest extent. It made sense, Buck knew that, of course. It would be even more peculiar if Daniel somehow seemed to not hate him after all he’s done. It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Buck decides to keep quiet. Daniel will leave eventually. He closes his eyes and leans back against the tree, the roughness of its bark slightly itching his back.

Despite that, Daniel still speaks, “You’re just going to sit here? Not even gonna answer me?” Buck takes a deep breath. If he didn't pay Daniel any mind, it’ll pass.  

“You’ll go away, eventually. Always do, speaking from experience.” At least, that’s what usually happens. Everything so far has been quite out of the ordinary, this could be no different. His head and his heart both ache in perfect antagonistic rhythm, how had any of this become normal to him, he had no idea. If he told anyone about it, they’d probably just tell him to get help. What makes such an inherently like-minded man start to slowly lose himself to the drag of madness was quite a question. 

Buck got very used to it, almost shameful how quickly he did, breathing in every ounce of Daniel’s essence whenever he showed just to ready himself to spend every other day without it. “What? I haven’t even been here before– I was stuck in some limbo type of thing, the fuck are you talking about?” Buck opens his eyes. What the fuck is Daniel talking about? ‘Some limbo type of thing’? That was bullshit, has to be. That would imply that Daniel’s some sort of actual ghost who was actually here, and that was not very good for Buck’s current state of mind. Daniel could not be here, because that means that this isn’t all a part of Buck’s already more than messed up head, but rather just reality as it is. Daniel is here, and he’s heard all Buck’s had to say so far. 

“So, you’re a ghost?” he asks, partially skeptical because he’s never really believed that ghosts were real, and took the tales of their existence as a means to put some fear into others for fun. After all, it did seem like quite an enjoyable pastime. He was also partially skeptical because it would be incredibly well-orchestrated punishment to have Buck suffer with the fact that the literal ghost of Daniel Blake would haunt him until God knows when, and Buck did not need that right now. His own head was already a hell of its own making, he did not need another.

Daniel looks at him like he’s asked the world’s most obvious question. God forbid a man wants to be sure of himself. “And what else could I be exactly?” Daniel asks in response, the slightest bit of snark present in his voice, almost reminiscent of the day that refuses to leave Buck’s head. 

Buck shrugs. “I’d assume you’re in my head. Otherwise, I don’t know, Daniel. I don’t believe in ghosts,” he says, blatantly. It almost makes Buck wonder, hypothetically, if Daniel was a ghost. Why was he haunting Buck? By choice? Or does God really seem to have it out for him? Buck was never really religious, to say he was practicing was an overstatement, he took faith with an ounce of belief. Maybe he should’ve reconsidered that, because God seems to be laughing at his face now.

“I figured.”

Arguably, it would be much more strange if Daniel wasn’t a ghost. That would mean that Buck is so beyond getting help that his own head’s put out a circus as entertainment, and Buck’s spiraling is none other than the title act. 

Despite all his conflicting beliefs through his many years of life, Buck takes Daniel’s word for it. Though it wasn’t a comforting truth, he supposes he just has to live with it. “So, did you choose to come after me, specifically?” 

Daniel shakes his head, “No, but I would’ve done it anyway.” Obviously. He sent a bullet through Daniel’s head. He supposes he deserves the slightest bit of haunting, too. Just the terrible, unavoidable side effects. Kill someone, get a side of haunting with it. Buck can live with that. He can keep his control at an all-time high, should he know when exactly Daniel’s leaving.

“You’ll stay until..?” Buck looks up at Daniel’s face, as per usual, eyes casually darting down to his lips before moving back up where he should be looking. He seriously needs to get himself together. It was insane in a whole other way that Buck was even believing this, actually. Then again, though, Buck’s quite sure he traded away any sense of normalcy in his life just to see Daniel again, even in the form of unruly hallucinations–or in this case–a literal ghost.

Surprisingly, Daniel actually stops to consider this. A long look of contemplation on his face. Did he seriously not know? To be fair, he gets Daniel’s confusion. It’s an unfair assumption to think that there was a specific time limit to this.  “You seriously don’t know?” Buck asks again, to which Daniel looks deep in thought, ultimately, none of it came to fruition. Daniel shakes his head, almost defeated.

Well, that is extremely fucked up of God to do.

That would mean an indefinite amount of time with the ghost of the man who hates him, who also just so happens to be the man that Buck had only just realized he had unfortunate romantic feelings for. He could make an attempt to live with that without doing something out of line. It might be unsuccessful, but an attempt nonetheless. 

“So, you just do this now? Visit the place you buried me and pretend nothing happened? Why here anyway?” Daniel asks. Buck may have completely forgotten that Daniel wouldn't really understand the relevance of location, especially since it may or may not have been slightly a traumatic event for him. 

Buck pauses, just for nearly half a second, before whatever facade this is clicks into place. “Like I said, I did like you, Daniel. I’m allowed to have regrets.” As per usual, the whole truth kept itself hidden within his words. He supposes it isn’t much of a problem, it wouldn’t be the best choice to confess to something of that nature when Daniel probably wanted him dead.

Then, he stands, leaving a white chrysanthemum where he buried Daniel, while he does have the opportunity to apologise in person, he isn't quite sure why the words don’t dare to leave his mouth. Daniel watches his every move, dares to look at the remnants of wilted flowers leftover from every time Buck’s visited. “You do that, too? Leave flowers for everyone you kill?”

“No, just ones who meant something to me.” Just you. Buck almost replies, walking away, watching as Daniel almost unwillingly follows–like some unjust force of attraction pulling them together.

“Lucky me,” Daniel mutters, sounding as exhausted as Buck feels.

Buck opens his car door, putting his hand on the wheel as he sees Daniel settle in the spot next to him. He doesn't start the engine yet, takes a moment to look to his right, at Daniel. An almost longing look, which makes Daniel stare right back at him like he’s being ridiculous. “The hell’s that look for?” Fuck. Buck has no idea what’s wrong with him. It all feels so out of a hellish dream that he can't even register that Daniel’s actually here. Buck turns back to the front, starting the car and beginning his drive back.

“You’d be surprised,” Buck sighs, applying slightly more pressure on the accelerator. It would be so very easy to slip back into the mindset that this was any normal day with Daniel, to lean into this fit of madness. 

Daniel’s tone convinces him otherwise. “Okay, then humor me.” Of course, Daniel lacks the type of fear he had when he was alive, because Buck can’t exactly kill him again, now, can he? 

Still, Buck does it anyway, wears the mask of normalcy and pretends he’s not going absolutely insane. “Mm, figure it out. You’re a smart man, you can do it yourself.” He watches as Daniel starts tapping on the dashboard. That’s surprising. Based on common assumption, he figured a ghost would just phase through objects. Apparently that is not the case in his very real life. 

So, hypothetically speaking, that would apply to people as well, no? Hypothetically speaking, that would lead to some rather interesting ideas.

Well, no use thinking about any of that when the chances of it happening were extremely close to zero. Not only was Daniel incredibly bitter with him, but Buck couldn’t voice it out if his life depended on it either. 

Daniel huffs, “So, not gonna tell me that either. I don’t get it, Buck,” Daniel says, again, making Buck only speed up even more. “You keep saying you liked me, keep implying it, then, you go ahead and kill me? You know, before you started preying on BB, I almost thought we were friends.” There he goes mentioning BB again. As if it isn't her fault they were in this situation. 

“Almost?” Buck asks, he would think that Daniel did actually see Buck as a friend. With how often he tried prying into Buck’s personal life or lack thereof, one would think he thought higher of their relationship. 

At the traffic light, Buck turns to look at Daniel, waiting for an answer. “What? We only just started to get along, would’ve gotten there eventually if you didn’t shoot me,” he shrugs. Was Buck wrong to find that at least a little offensive?

Buck barely frowns, it’s there, barely visible, though. He doesn't let his guard down too much, even around Daniel. “I, for one, thought we ‘got’ there already.” Maybe Daniel’s just dense. Awfully, unfortunately dense towards how much Buck’s taken a liking to him. There’s a small pause between his words. “I am sorry, Daniel. For everything. I know you don’t exactly believe me. Or forgive me, for that matter. I don’t blame you,” Buck says, voice getting quieter until it’s almost a whisper. He makes a point not to face Daniel when he says this. He’s gone awfully soft, but he isn’t sure if he could keep his composure. “But.. you should know I regret it every day.” It’s almost like swallowing down his pride, saying the words he used to utter when no one was listening. “And… that’s why I visit.” Because you should know that I did in fact love you.

Daniel doesn’t say anything, so Buck has nothing to respond to. As a result, the rest of the drive is dead silent. Buck doesn’t think he said the wrong thing. Daniel said he didn’t understand it all, Buck explained, and now he’s getting what feels like the silent treatment. 

Eventually, they reach Buck’s place, and Buck leads the way. Daniel’s never been here before, he’s never let him in–to his house, at least. It’s never really been a home to him. With a life like Buck’s, this was just a place to stay, nothing more. Home was a foreign concept. One could argue that his home was England, but he would disagree. Somehow, after all this, his home had become the familiar comfort of Daniel’s presence. Since he couldn’t seek it out personally with Daniel, he supposes his now biweekly visits were close enough.

Once Buck settles in the kitchen, getting himself a drink to take the edge off, Daniel is the first to break the looming silence between them. “Did you mean it?”

It startles Buck, he didn’t expect Daniel to be the first to speak of the two of them. “Mean what?” 

“What you said in the car.” Could Daniel be even more dense? Even getting the words out was a struggle, and Daniel thinks he didn’t mean any of it?

Buck turns to look at him, taking his wallet out of the back pocket of his pants and putting it on the counter before leaning against one of the kitchen counters, arms crossed. “Of course I did.” He watches as Daniel nods in response, biting the inner corner of his lip like he always did when he was thinking.

“I didn’t think you’d actually kill me,” Daniel starts. Buck braces himself mentally for whatever he’s about to hear. “I saw the way you looked at me, heard it in your voice, didn’t think you had it in you to pull the trigger.” Oh. Buck knew Daniel realized all of it, every bit of his hesitance, he was always smarter than he let on, Buck knew that, too. “Then, I.. woke up, and I was dead. So, I came to the conclusion that it was condescending and didn’t mean shit every time you said you liked me, because it wasn’t enough to save my life.” Buck takes a swig of his drink, urging Daniel to continue, to get them closer to the point of making amends, because Buck couldn’t bridge this chasm alone. 

Daniel sighs, before continuing, “But looks like I died for nothing, huh? Fisk isn’t even in office anymore, BB’s not a threat, and it all would’ve happened without me dying, too. Was the job at least painful without me?” Daniel cracks a sarcastic smile at the question. Little does he know. 

“It was, if it matters. As much as I hate to admit it, Daniel, but you made it much more enjoyable,” Buck says, taking another swig of his drink. The alcohol burnt the back of his throat, but he liked the feel of it. 

“So, I was right.”

Buck manages a chuckle, “Indeed you were. You know, I did get shot, too, so, I suppose you were a bit right on more than one occasion.” He watches the lazy smile on Daniel’s face, looking a bit more genuine this time. It feels natural again, like at least part of their differences put aside in this moment of silence.

“I hope you know I cared about you, Daniel. Even in your last moments, I hope you could see that,” Buck says, seeing the look in Daniel’s eyes slightly soften. It was bittersweet, only saying some of these things–still not everything, Buck noted–when it was too late. 

Daniel doesn’t reply, though, looking away, almost embarrassed. Buck didn’t know when this would end, but it felt slightly easier to deal with now that some things were already out in the open, keeping only the most complicated issues within, because those weren’t secrets to be told. Not yet, at least. Not when Buck was only just approaching the threshold of being forgiven. 

Once again, the world around them goes quiet. Buck’s eyes trace Daniel’s path, watching as he looks around his house. He didn't feel like eating anything, really. He’d probably just go to bed. Would Daniel have to go to sleep? Probably not, right? A ghost wouldn’t need to do anything to keep themselves alive. Again, the whole idea is absolute insanity to him. The only prior knowledge anyone would have on ghosts are from stupid horror movies, and they never really got into the technical aspects of what being a ghost is like. “Daniel?” Buck calls out, watching as Daniel turns to look at him, tilting his head ever so slightly to signal for him to continue. “What exactly will you be doing while I’m asleep? I doubt wandering around would be any entertaining. There’s not much to see.”

Maybe Daniel hasn’t considered it either, he looks lost in thought. “Watch TV, maybe. Didn’t think about that. You don’t mind, right?” Hm. Buck was a light sleeper, but he probably had some earplugs lying around, shouldn’t be an issue. He wouldn’t want to bore Daniel out, especially since it was his fault that Daniel was a ghost in his house.

“I’ll find my earplugs, go for it.”

Buck walks into his bedroom, taking the slightest moment to look at Daniel, who had settled on Buck’s sofa. With his hand on the doorknob, his shoulders relax a bit. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

Daniel looks at Buck from over his shoulder, “Night, Buck.”

Like any other night, Buck gets changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants before heading to bed. His dreams, as per usual, are filled with the endless memories of that fateful day, alongside the image that had been burnt into his head of Daniel’s body. Every time it wakes him up, Buck takes off one of his earplugs, hears the faint sounds of his television in the background, and grounds himself back to the reality where Daniel is still around, just as a ghost.

— — — — —

Buck wakes up at 7 in the morning, light barely peeking through from behind his blinds. He lets out the slightest groan, feeling the slight discomfort from the earplugs. Taking them off, he’s surprised to hear nothing coming from the television outside. If yesterday was some sort of fever dream, Buck’s confident he has to pay Heather a visit to get him out of whatever this is.

He was quickly proven wrong once he opened the door and saw Daniel standing by the kitchen counter, Buck’s wallet in hand. “I doubt stealing from me’s gonna do much for you, Daniel. Pretty sure I’m the only one who can see you,” Buck comments, voice rough from sleep.

“No, not that, Buck, this,” Daniel holds up the wallet, pointing at the stupid picture of the two of them that Buck had kept in there. It wasn’t a picture anyone would expect Buck of all people to have, something Daniel had taken on his phone and sent to him once when they went out for lunch. Buck had it printed out about a week after Daniel’s death, keeping it as a way to always have a memory of him close to Buck.

Then again, Buck wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or just ever so slightly embarrassed that Daniel found out. “Oh,” is all Buck manages to get out. “I… didn’t expect you to find that,” he continues. He quickly snatches it out of Daniel’s hand, “I think you’ve looked at that enough, actually.” Buck shoves his wallet inside the pocket of his sweatpants, holding onto it, in case Daniel tries to get his hands on it again.

Buck sees the minute shift in Daniel’s expression, as if wanting to prod but not wanting to make it too awkward. They had to spend an indefinite amount of time together, maybe even until Buck died, keeping things between them at least semi-normal was necessary. “Guess you weren’t lying about liking me, huh? Weren’t you the one who absolutely refused to take the picture until I made you agree to only one?” Daniel asks, teasing. He’s gotten a whole lot braver now that Buck can’t necessarily threaten him with anything anymore.

Buck groans, “Don’t hold it against me, Daniel,” he says with a small chuckle. He tries to tell himself that it can be passed off as something merely platonic, and that it was sort of a tribute to a friend who had died, much like his other new ‘traditions’. But simple things like visiting a friend at their grave don’t hold a torch to keeping a photo of them in your wallet like you would a lover.

Daniel smiles, “Or what?” Buck notices the conflict in Daniel’s eyes, to most, it would be distinguishable, but to him, even the slightest twitch can tick him off. 

Still, Buck shakes his head with a breathless laugh, heading to his fridge to look for something to cook. He’d probably just settle for eggs, not that he didn’t have the time or skill for anything more complicated, he just wasn’t feeling like it.

As he starts to crack the eggs in the pan, Daniel makes a bit of a strange comment, “I’ve never seen you so casual.”

Buck doesn’t turn his head fully, but glares at him in the corner of his eye. Does he think Buck just doesn't have a life besides work? “What?” Buck asks and Daniel gestures to what he’s wearing. “Do you think I just.. wake up and go to sleep in a suit?”

“I dunno, man, you seem like the type of guy to do that,” Daniel shrugs and Buck scoffs. Who does he think Buck is? Frankly, he might slightly understand. When your only knowledge of someone is from work, it can be hard to picture them actually living normally. Not Daniel, though, the differences in their social lives was very obvious.

Still, Buck decides to fight against it, just for the fun of it, honestly. “I’m not a psychopath, Daniel.” He scrambles the eggs in the pan, making an effort not to burn them because he got caught up in conversation.

“Hey, you kill people for a living. Might as well be.” Buck keeps quiet, not finding it in himself to respond besides letting out the smallest sigh that manages to disguise itself as a laugh. As much as that was true, and as much as he was desensitized to the sentiment, it did remind him of the situation they were in. He doesn’t think Daniel caught on, though, so he plays it off like it’s a joke.

Once Buck plates up his eggs, Daniel takes a seat at the chair that’s usually Buck’s place. Despite rarely ever having people over, Buck decided to keep two chairs at his dining table, just in case. It never really came to being of any use, just becoming more clutter, but, well, at least it’s something now.

He takes a seat opposite Daniel, and it’s maybe the first time they’ve actually been so close, face to face like this since Daniel got here. For once in his life, his place felt like home. Seeing Daniel sitting so close to him, the two of them talking about whatever to lighten the air, it was the most ‘at home’ Buck’s ever felt. The world would be quite literally perfect if it was just this every day, Buck thought. It felt like they had been doing this forever, the dim light behind Daniel carefully isolating his features. It was a domestic scene, something unfit for someone like him. Despite it all, Buck revelled in it.

“So, what do you do for work now?” Daniel asks, both elbows on the table, his chin resting against the palm of his hand. It was awfully cute. Buck bit his inner lip to stop the smile that started to show when he looked at Daniel.

Buck gets up to grab a glass of water, taking a smaller sip before replying, “Thought you said we weren't friends? I’m surprised you keep making conversation.”

Daniel lightly tilts his head in agreement, “Well, don’t know if you’ve noticed, Buck, but I’m kinda stuck here, so we might as well talk.” Buck huffs as he heads back to his seat, continuing to finish his food.

Then, he smiles, he won’t admit it to anyone, maybe not even himself to some extent, but this is exactly where he wants to be. It was so comforting, a shared space with Daniel where they could at least try to forget about the past events, and focus on now. “Fine, then. I work around. People find me if they need my expertise in tying up loose ends, I oblige.” 

“So, like what you used to do before this?” Daniel asks, leaning back in his chair, the tip of his shoes bumping into Buck’s thighs from the way Daniel’s crossing his legs under the table. He mutters the quietest apology, so Buck kicks Daniel’s leg in return, earning a surprised laugh from the other man. Well, at least he was right. The whole thing about ghosts not phasing through objects applies to people, too. Very interesting. Considering Daniel doesn’t seem too upset with him now, Buck lets his thoughts wander a little further this time. 

Buck chuckles, finishing up the last of his food, “You seem to know a lot about me.” He exacts the teasing tone Daniel had used on him moments ago, watching Daniel roll his eyes.

Daniel shakes his head, disagreeing, “You say that like I’ve been stalking you or something. Just read your file, Buck, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

The rest of the morning is more quiet, Daniel oddly just observing everything Buck was doing, tearing his eyes away when he thought Buck had noticed, which was right, actually. Buck noticed quite a lot of Daniel’s staring. 

Buck’s washing the dishes when he notices it again. Daniel, leaning against the wall, just watching him. “I don’t have much to do today, it’s going to be quite boring just staring at me, Daniel,” he comments over his shoulder, smiling as Daniel panics and immediately looks away. Buck chuckles, “I don’t mind, you know? It’ll just be boring, that's all.”

“I was not staring,” Daniel throws his hands up defensively, walking away to wander around Buck’s place. He didn’t do enough of that yesterday, it seems. “What do you wanna do, anyway?”

He turns the sink off, drying his hands before turning to Daniel. “Well, I initially planned to just stay home, maybe watch a movie while I’m at it, but if you have any ideas, go for it.” He shrugs, his life has been pretty quiet since the whole situation with Fisk. Reading’s become a lot more regular than usual, so Buck normally heads out to find something to read, to get food or to head to the florist across the street whenever he plans on visiting Daniel.

“Nah, that sounds fine, man,” Daniel walks over to the couch and takes a seat. 

Buck makes his way to his bathroom before announcing, “I’m going to take a shower first.” He hears Daniel’s response, an almost unenthusiastic ‘got it’. Buck knows Daniel will probably just start wandering around if there isn’t anything interesting on TV at the moment, just like he did this morning. He probably should’ve kept some of his belongings away, just in case. Though he doesn’t think he has anything particularly incriminating around his house. 

Maybe he should’ve been more careful. Again.

By the time Buck steps out, dressed in basically the same thing as he was earlier, he notices his bedroom door left open wider than it should be. He walks in, spotting Daniel, looking at the jacket hanging over his desk chair, Daniel’s jacket, actually. 

“You seriously kept this?” Daniel asks, and Buck can’t really place his tone. Whether he’s surprised, creeped out or something else entirely, Buck had no idea. 

So, he simply nods, leaning against the doorframe. “I did. Why?” he asks, just to gauge how Daniel’s feeling about this whole thing. The jacket was a last minute thing, really. Buck had taken it off him before burying him, mainly because it was the only part of him that wasn’t entirely stained in blood. It would be a waste not to keep it.

“Never thought you would.” Daniel holds the jacket up, feeling around the inside of the pockets to find a collection of small receipts, all from the same place. Buck knew them very well, they were from the florist across the street. His previously weekly–now biweekly–visits had started the smallest pile of receipts in the jacket pocket that Buck never bothered to take out. He watches Daniel unfold them and read them. “All flowers? What? You go on…” he pauses to look at the timeframe of dates printed on each receipt, “Weekly hot dates with this on or something?” 

Buck walks up to Daniel, a light chuckle leaving him. “No, not exactly.” He hates how all this only insinuates that Buck’s worn the jacket on several occasions, that the romantic connotations of it are just out in the air now. “The… jacket’s quite nice, so I thought I should keep it.” That does not save him on any account. 

Daniel drapes it over the chair once again, before taking a seat. “You wear it often, huh? Probably looks dope on you,” he comments. Buck can’t stop the soft smile on his face.

“It’s just a bit big, but otherwise, I think it works.”

There’s a certain look on Daniel’s face, eyes slightly squinting, his face almost scrunched together. Buck’s grown used to it, he knows Daniel wants to ask something, but not sure whether it’ll come off wrong. He’s quickly proven right when Daniel decides to speak anyway. “So, what are all the receipts for? Who’s been getting your flowers?”

It would almost be instinct to follow up with a quip, something like asking whether Daniel was jealous. Though then again, the flowers were actually intended for him, he doubts it would produce the same effect. It would also be incredibly easy to lie, but for some reason, he doesn’t find it in himself to. “You, actually. These are… the ones I normally leave,” the ‘at your grave’ part of it remains unsaid, he’s sure Daniel understands. 

He’s well aware he’s made things much more awkward than they rightfully should be. He’s brought them back to the conversation they’ve been avoiding this whole morning. Them. The situation they’re in. They haven’t said a word about it since Buck’s woken up. “You leave one every week? Why? What do you even do with that time?” Daniel asks. Buck has to tread very carefully with this. He can’t keep trying to convince Daniel that everything he does–no matter how romantic the implications–are just things a ‘friend’ does out of regret. That’s not normal. He won’t lie to Daniel, but he won’t mention the whole truth either.

“Talk. Apologise, for everything.” Think of the words I don’t dare to say out loud, wish you were here with me, always. “I reason with myself, I suppose, why I had no choice, even though I see now that I did.” I convinced myself anyway, the guilt would kill me otherwise.

Daniel looks at him quite strangely. What did he want Buck to say? If not for scattered love confessions, he couldn’t think of much else, really. “I wasn’t there to listen, though,” Daniel adds, as if Buck didn’t already know that.

Buck lets his head hang low, “I know. I always hoped you could hear, at least a little, I wanted you to.” It was a silly thing, really, but Buck had seen it in Daniel’s eyes long ago, the constant search for validation, for purpose. He assumed that extended to being blinded to when people cared about him, Buck’s kept this in mind for a while, hence why he’s often told Daniel he likes him. Just so he’s aware, even if it comes from someone he doesn’t want it to. 

“The flowers, then?” Daniel asks. Buck cannot be getting into detail about this. The flowers were always more personal than stumbled through apologies and quiet conversations. They expressed everything Buck couldn’t say, they showed more meaning than he ever could himself. The florist would ask him so many additional questions when Buck had only asked for suggestions of flowers. That’s when it came to him how close each pick was to his heart.

He couldn’t tell Daniel any of that. The symbolism behind each one of his actions were hidden for a reason. They were never meant to be said out loud, just a quiet whisper between him and God, the only two who would ever know the significance of anything Buck did. So, he gives the safest answer he can muster. “As an offering, to make amends, if you were ever really there. Suppose I know now that you weren’t.”

Daniel nods at his explanation, before coming up with more to ask him. God, can he just shut his pretty mouth this once? “Why only one, though?” That was a question Buck heard so many times from the florist, who’d ask him why he never got a bouquet or maybe even just more than a single flower. He never gave the florist an answer, but he knew in his heart the reason. More than one would be a confession, and Buck didn’t have it in him to confess when he knew it was inevitably too late anyway. He also felt that more than one would’ve been unwelcome, that one would be too much for Daniel’s bitter spirit anyway. 

“I don’t know. Started one day, became a tradition,” Buck explains, refusing to say more. The way Daniel kept pressing on reminds him of how the florist often asked why he never bought flowers prior to ‘the death of whoever it was’. It was an unwelcome question, but Buck just nodded along, saying he didn’t know until it was too late. It was true, but it was also whatever that got him to stop prodding around for information.

Daniel scoffs, clearly not believing a single word he says. He really can see right through him. “You seriously don’t know? Come on, there has to be something, right?” Buck sighs, it’s quite loud, so he knows he’s sold himself out to Daniel already.

What does he even say to that? It’s something too personal, it hits him in the heart just thinking about it. “I didn’t know if more than one would be okay with you. And… sometimes less is more,” he says, voice growing quieter. Sometimes one is enough. It was simpler, almost more romantic, in a way. Eventually, too much seems like a mockery of love. One was a promise, a last resort, a message. A subtle nod to more, quiet but alive. 

“Flowers mean stuff, right? So, each has a different meaning? It says you bought different ones each week,” Daniel continues to press on. Of course there was a meaning to all of them. What could never be said, to put it simply. Buck nods to his question. “What did yesterday’s one mean?”

The white chrysanthemum can both symbolize truth and a loyal love, Buck had read about it. ‘Loyal love’ seems a bit upfront to tell a friend, though. He could also lie. Again. But truth seems like a safe enough answer. “It was a chrysanthemum. White ones symbolize the truth.”

“Truth?”

“I suppose, in my case, the truth would be my.. regret, towards what I did,” Buck explains. It was partially the truth. That should be enough of an answer to keep Daniel satisfied.

Daniel nods, “Guess that makes sense.” The silence looms over them once again. It always seemed to be so much louder when it was the two of them. To avoid making it seem like he was staring, Buck looked around the room, quietly taking note of his belongings and whether he’d have to keep them away in case Daniel wanted to explore his house again. “You know,” Daniel breaks the silence, “I think I’ve at least partially forgiven you already.”

That completely catches Buck off guard. “Already?” he asks. It’s only been less than a day. There is no way that could happen that fast. He hasn't done enough to be forgiven, he thinks. At least not in the eyes of this Daniel. 

“Guess I saw everything you’ve done out of regret, and it's actually starting to feel like you mean it. Clearly, I meant enough to you to the point you’re doing all this–” 

“Enough? Daniel, I cared about you a lot. We weren’t close for long, but I did,” Buck cuts him off before he can continue, and he spots the slightest flush on Daniel’s face. Despite the light casting a shadow on his features, Buck swears he saw it. 

Daniel pauses for a moment, taking a short breath before continuing, “Yeah, yeah. I get that. But anyway, I don't think I could’ve stayed pissed when I saw you like this,” he explains. Buck lets out the smallest sigh, it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Forgiveness wasn’t something he ever expected, that’s why it was one of the things he asked for every time he visited. If only he knew it would be this easy to get it from Daniel.

Buck smiles, it’s soft, more genuine, cheeks almost burning trying to hold it back. “Thank you, Daniel.” That’s all he manages. The rest remains unsaid for another day.

— — — — —

The next day, Daniel is still there. Same as the next, and the next, until it’s been a week since he first showed. Daniel follows Buck everywhere, not like he has a choice. Whatever job he’s doing, Daniel’s watching, commenting on it like the angel on his shoulder. Or devil, actually. He was starting to be a little shit, as Buck would say–though the fact is riddled with affection. 

The two of them would talk about whatever came to mind, imitating the little normalcy they once knew. Every now and then, they would stumble upon a topic that hit too close to Buck’s heart. Anything regarding them, about Buck killing Daniel, was never really received well. 

The idea that this was all temporary and that he could wake up and Daniel wouldn’t be there anymore terrified him. He had accustomed himself to Daniel being around all the time, being a part of his rather lonely life. When before, he had hoped for this nightmare to be over, now, he prays every day that he wakes up to the sound of Daniel just existing in his home. Solely due to that fear, he’s stopped wearing earplugs when he sleeps. It’s a bit harder to keep himself asleep, but when he does, it's made him much more relaxed, knowing he can still hear the sound of the television in the background. Daniel was still with him.

It made him wonder, was there a specific thing that had to be achieved for Daniel to go away? It couldn’t have something to do with making amends, because he’s quite sure they’re past that. 

“Do you think a certain thing has to happen for you to go?” Buck asks one day over dinner, where for some stupid reason, they're kicking feet beneath the table again like teenagers. 

Daniel stops for a moment, thinking as Buck eats a mouthful of the pasta salad he made earlier. “Maybe, actually. Wonder what it is, though. Clearly, we haven’t gotten there yet.”

Buck nods, a bit more daring as he speaks, “I don’t think I’d want to. I’ve gotten quite used to having you around here,” he shrugs, making Daniel smile at him. He lived in it, the way Daniel’s smile cast a light on the whole room. He was so beautiful. Buck had admired him each day they had spent together. In fact, he’s probably memorized his features, could map them out perfectly. 

“Wow, flattering. Almost makes me forget how you killed me,” Daniel jokes, it makes Buck tighten up a bit, he doesn’t let it show, but he’s sure Daniel sees the change. “You don’t like it when I joke about it, do you?” he asks. There it is. 

Well, it would be strange to lie in the moment. “I don’t enjoy the reminder, Daniel.” I don’t want to spend another day without you, is what he also wants to say, but that borders on breaking the imaginary line of a boundary he made up, the one that says he will not make a move on Daniel. So, he keeps it to himself. 

Daniel looks at him, “Yeah, can tell. Think it’s just a coping mechanism, maybe,” he shrugs. Buck supposes it’s silly to get upset over the consequences of his own actions, the ones he had quite a bit of time to mull over. 

“No, it’s fine. Guess it is my fault,” Buck mutters.

— — — — —

Another week passes by soon enough. “You know, it's getting boring now,” Daniel says. “Watching TV’s no fun without someone to comment on it with,” he sighs.

“Well, you’ve never asked me to join you,” Buck adds, looking up from the book he’s reading. 

Daniel tilts his head a little, “Thought you just didn’t want to.” There’s a short pause before he continues, “But we’ve talked about almost everything, there’s nothing to do around here,” he complains. Makes sense. Daniel’s phone was nowhere near them, and Buck would have to die before giving him access to any of his devices. 

He did have a good amount of books lying around, but he isn’t sure if Daniel would enjoy them. He asks anyway. “I have some books around, have you looked at those?”

Daniel sighs, “I did. None of them look interesting enough.” Hm. Fair enough. Might be harder to entertain him then. Maybe he could go out and find something for him.

Maybe Daniel prefers something more like a game. Crossword puzzles, word searches. Those could be fun. “Would a crossword puzzle book interest you? I could get one for you.”

Buck watches as Daniel nods, “Sounds good.”

The two head to the nearby bookstore, getting Daniel that book. He spends quite a lot of time on it, asking Buck for help on some of the trickier clues. Eventually, Buck ends up sitting next to Daniel on the couch, pressed up against him to see what was next. Both their hands are on the edges of the page, mere centimetres away from making contact. 

Buck’s gaze often flickered upwards, adoring the way Daniel’s face was scrunched up in thought as the two of them tried to work their way through the pages together. Despite having lived with each other for 2 weeks now, they hadn’t really spent much time as close as they were now. Buck wants to spend the rest of his life like this.

They call it quits after finishing at least a quarter of the book, resorting to just watching a movie to end the night. Buck keeps his word and sticks around, listening to Daniel’s endless comments on whatever was going on screen. He doesn't know how, but by the end of the movie, they went from having at least a semblance of some distance between them to being nearly pressed up against each other again. When Buck first noticed, his instinct was to pull away, but Daniel didn't seem to mind their close proximity at all, so he didn’t either.

— — — — —

Time flies fairly fast, and the two of them fall into routine. They’d spend the first half of the day doing their own things, talking about whatever random thought comes to mind, or whatever was going on around the world. For the second half, they’d spend time doing crossword puzzles or word searches in a new book Buck got for them, before ending the night watching whatever movie looked stupidly endearing enough to keep them hooked.

Buck isn’t sure if he’s slowly been driven to madness, but after weeks of spending time together, Buck started to notice things about Daniel’s behavior. Not only did he not seem to mind when Buck mindlessly moved closer to him, but he matched it, giving Buck space to get comfortable, letting him do all that. He also was confident that he felt Daniel’s gaze lingering on him for longer than necessary on many occasions, and saw the sort of soft look in his eyes when he looked at Buck. It was the kind of look that could even make Buck have to catch his breath.

He remembers feeling eyes on him whenever they were close, only for Daniel to immediately look away when Buck took notice. It was the subtlest thing, but he took note of it all. He recognized the look quite well, actually, having seen it in his own eyes on multiple occasions. Still, he didn’t get ahead of himself. 

The brain works in fairly interesting ways, and Buck’s sure his own was being deceitful every second of his life. 

It comes to him out of nowhere, the sudden thought he never bothered to ponder before. Naturally, his first thought was to talk to Daniel about it, walking over to where Daniel’s sitting. “I don’t know how I’ve never questioned this before, but how come you’re the only ghost who’s miraculously come back to haunt me?” It’s the strangest question. “I’ve killed before, many times, but why only you?”

Daniel shrugs, “I don’t know, actually. I didn’t get, like, a choice or anything if I wanted to go and haunt someone or not. Maybe there’s like a factor behind it,” he says. It makes Buck think. A certain factor? Well, he supposes no one he’s killed has ever been someone who he actually knew personally and cared about. Could that be it?

Upon thinking about it a little harder, he’s starting to believe it actually might be the case. “I think it has to be someone you care about.” Maybe even someone you love.

“Would that also apply to people who didn’t necessarily kill whoever it was? Like, someone close to you dies, do you think that would happen, too?” Daniel asks, curious about the whole thing, too. It was funny, almost. Considering Daniel was the dead one, he’d assume that he would have more knowledge on the subject than Buck. It appears not.

Buck takes a moment to think, “I think if that were to happen then it’d be a more well-known fact, but from what I know, I’m not going mad, you’re really here and absolutely none of this is common knowledge, so maybe it applies to people who you killed who you just so happen to care about, not a common occurrence,” he explains. 

Daniel nods at the explanation, “That makes sense. But.. I don’t know, how much would you have to care about someone for it to happen?” 

“I’d assume a lot,” Buck says without a single thought, before realizing that it’s exactly the situation they’re in. Of course, he knows Daniel’s aware that Buck cares, just not to what extent. It just slips his mind often because of how they play it off like none of it matters.

When he says that, Daniel stands so they’re eye to eye, and he lets out the slightest shaky breath, doing his best to mask it. Daniel breaks the silence, he always does, “I always wondered. Buck, you visit the place you buried me every week, you bring flowers, and I could almost excuse that– but you have a picture of us in your wallet, you kept my jacket, you wear it when you go out, I.. I tried not to make too much of it, but now you’re saying this and you can’t tell me that’s just what a friend does.” Buck did not think Daniel was going to address this first, actually. Though really, what does Daniel have to fear now? He’s got nothing to lose.

In the heat of the moment, all Buck can think of is everything he’s observed recently. From what he’s seen, he thinks he has a solid chance if he shoots his shot. Buck lets himself cross the lines of the made up boundary for the first time. “I know. I could tell whenever you ignored it, I noticed, I… I suppose I wasn't sure how to put it when you, at the moment, despised me.” It takes him a bit to swallow his pride and spit it out, everything he’s kept to himself. He wasn’t the type to be nervous, actually, but something about that changed a while ago. “I realized it after everything. I realized that I did love you, actually. And I thought I wouldn’t have the chance to say it, so I did all that in hopes that wherever you were, you would see it.” The hard part was over. He looked at Daniel’s face, trying to gauge his reaction, he swears to God and anybody else watching that he could see the corners of Daniel's mouth twitching into the slightest smile. He kept on going anyway. “But then you were here, and I couldn't bring myself to say it. I think just now was the first time I said it out loud, actually.” He stops himself there, looking at Daniel for a response. Daniel doesn’t give him one.

Instead, Daniel leans in first and kisses Buck. It might be the greatest thing he’s ever felt. One of Buck’s hands immediately goes to Daniel’s waist, the other reaching for the back of his neck. He reciprocates the kiss as soon as it’s initiated, the hand that was resting behind Daniel’s head slowly traveling up to tangle itself within his hair. Kissing Daniel was like breathing, it was instinct, he didn’t have to think twice about it. 

They pull away eventually, Buck’s hands lingering for longer, not wanting to let go. “I think I knew a few weeks in, too,” Daniel adds, and Buck smiles, pulling Daniel into another kiss.

It’s almost like a flashback, the way the words he’s repeated in his head nearly every week pops into his head right that moment. “I only hope I can see you again in death and tell you outright.” Was that it? The very same words as the day he buried Daniel, over and over again in his head like a mantra, and now they were coming to life. He did tell Daniel outright. Now, he’s done exactly what he promised to. And if a certain goal would have to be achieved for Daniel to leave, Buck had no doubts that this was it, his final wish fulfilled would be the cost.

When they break the kiss, Buck mutters, breathless, “I think I’ve figured it out.”

He spends the rest of the day explaining it further, telling Daniel about everything he’s done, the romantic subtext of it all–which although embarrassing, gave him many kisses in return, so he doesn’t regret it one bit. The two spend the last hours of the day together, seeing if Buck’s theory was right. 

That night, Buck fell asleep entangled in Daniel’s arms, where he was meant to be.

— — — — —

Buck wakes up the next day, surrounded by nothing. He was right, that was what it took. Daniel is gone now, for good. The corners of his lips quirked up into the smallest smile, at least he got to have it once. And at least, in the very short time they had actually been with each other, he made sure that Daniel died with Buck’s heart in his hand, knowing exactly what he meant with every word he whispered. Buck was happy knowing that was the case.

— — — — —

Buck visits the florist again that same day, watching the man look somewhat surprised. He hadn’t been in a long time, it was understandable. “Long time no see,” the man says.

“Had a revelation recently,” Buck says, before asking for the flowers he had planned on buying.

Forget-me-nots. A bunch of them, contrary to his previous orders of only singular flowers. “Had a change of heart, too? You usually only buy one.”

Buck smiles. “Well, can’t exactly give one of these, right? And like I said, I had a revelation a while ago. I know better.”

In the evening, Buck visits Daniel’s grave, he knows he’s forgiven, but it’s become such a big part of his life that it would be improper to give up now. He leaves the flowers there, watching as the sunset paints a beautiful scene before him.

“Thank you for forgiving me. I don’t deserve it. Thank you, anyway. I love you.” The words flow out so easily now, in the comfort of nobody other than them. The sun casts a lambent light over them, and it’s like Daniel’s still there with him.