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Summary
The thing is, Buck knows the universe is vast, cold, can’t possibly have personal vendettas. But he’s back here for the fifth time, pinned to his seat, shirt slick with blood and head fuzzy from blood loss. And he twists his neck, his gaze clinging to Eddie, whose blood is pooling on the car seat, leg bent at a grotesque angle, lips trembling. And for the fifth time, he watches with a brief shudder, as Eddie slips from wakefulness into inhuman stillness.
It’s starting to feel awfully personal.
Buck’s always the one being left. And now he gets to see Eddie leaving. Over and over and over.
Or; Buck is in a time loop. The car always crashes. Eddie always dies.
