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Eddie hasn’t been taking Christopher’s absence well. His life since the day his parents showed up on his doorstep has felt empty. There’s no need to desperately search for someone to watch Chris, no need to wake up in the morning on his off days to drive Chris to school, no need to schedule sleepovers.
He can feel the pity radiating off his friends in waves. But it’s really his fault that he got here, isn’t it? He couldn’t let go of his dead wife and got his son taken away for it. Work is only a temporary distraction until he comes home to an empty house.
The only ray of sunshine left in Eddie’s life is Buck, who’s making it his mission to make him feel better. Guilt rushes through Eddie in waves every time Buck greets him with some new activity prepared. He’s not sure he’s worth the time Buck’s willing to spend on him.
Eddie’s tried, several times in fact, to tell Buck that he’s fine. He doesn’t need anyone to help him. Buck sees through his bullshit every single time and somehow always knows exactly what Eddie needs. At this point, Eddie’s lost track of the movie nights, home-cooked meals, baked goods, and outings that Buck has planned. It all feels like too much.
On a rare day where Buck has plans that don’t involve Eddie, Eddie finds himself wallowing on his couch. He hasn’t turned the TV on because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of even little things like that. Buck’s the only one who can get Eddie to treat himself. Sometimes it’s iced coffee with flavoring, more expensive food, or even buying necessities.
A low itch has settled under Eddie’s skin, growing the longer Chris has been gone. He keeps trying to ignore it, but the itch travels up his spine, reaching into his brain. There’s a voice that’s made a permanent residence in Eddie’s head, reminding him of every single one of his failures.
Tonight, the voice refuses to leave him alone.
You’re a horrible son. A horrible father. You don’t deserve anything good. You were always destined to ruin everything you touched. Why would anyone stick around for you.
Eddie grits his teeth and shakes his head, trying to rattle the thoughts free. They won’t leave him alone.
Worthless. Screw-up. You always do everything wrong.
His skin feels like it’s on fire, and he stands up, trying to brush the feeling off. Eddie swears he’s hallucinating, but when he looks down, literal flames are flickering over his skin. They burn, sinking themselves deep inside, and jagged purple patterns start to spread all over his legs.
Eddie runs to the bathroom and practically tears his clothes off, watching in horror as the patterns embed themselves everywhere, visible on his tanned skin. He scrubs at them with a washcloth, but they just keep spreading, mismatched and disgusting.
This is what you deserve. Now everyone will know what a monster you are.
No amount of water, soap, or scrubbing makes them go away. Eddie just stares at his reflection in the mirror. He looks broken, like a damned man waiting for his own execution. His skin is not his own. He is merely a vessel for all of his failures.
Eddie’s had these patterns all his life, but it was easy enough to hide before, when they were only on his arms. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the cracks forming the minute he realized what a huge mistake he made.
He just thought he’d get more time.
His parents taught him to hide the evidence. It was a mark on his soul, a damnation from the second he entered the world. Proof that Eddie would never be the person everyone wished he was.
The flames are gone, having finished decorating his skin, but he still feels the burning pain in his hands, on his face, in his ears, in his mouth.
You destroy everything you touch. It’s only right that you feel the pain you’ve caused.
Eddie doubles over at the agonizing pain, hunching over himself. He cries out. His breathing turns labored as an ache spreads through his body. The jagged purple patterns etched in his skin start to glow and Eddie decides he doesn’t want to look anymore.
Now, there’s permanent and very visible evidence of his failures. Who would want him like this? A broken shell of a man, or maybe he’s not even a man anymore. Eddie knows it’s what he deserves, but it hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before. He wonders how much of him is even left at this point.
Without realizing it, Eddie dials Buck’s number. He’s the only person Eddie trusts to help him right now, though he wouldn’t blame Buck if he wanted nothing to do with a monster.
When Buck picks up the phone, Eddie sounds panicked, slurring his words in desperation. “Buck, something’s wrong. Really wrong.”
Buck’s stomach drops. Every horrible situation is flitting through his mind. “Is it Chris?”
“No, no,” Eddie breathes out shakily, exhaling as if he’s in pain. “It’s me. Buck, I think something’s really wrong with me.”
“Did you call nine one one? Someone can help—“
“No,” Eddie says. It sounds more like a growl than real words. “I need you.”
“Okay. I’ll be over as soon as I can,” Buck promises. “I’m staying on the phone until I get there, okay? I’ve got you, Eddie, whatever this is.”
Eddie seems to have lost his capacity for words, only communicating through pained grunts and inhales. Buck listens to him the entire way over, offering comforting words he’s not sure Eddie can hear.
When Buck finally gets to Eddie’s house, he hangs up the phone. A door slams in the distance as soon as he steps inside.
“Eddie?” Buck calls out.
“Bathroom,” comes Eddie’s answer.
The door is closed, and Buck hesitates as he steps close. “Can you…can you open up?”
“No,” Eddie says firmly. His voice is muffled through the door and he’s barely loud enough to hear.
“Can you at least tell me what’s going on?” Buck tries. “Is it a panic attack? Have you been seeing your therapist?”
“It’s not a panic attack,” Eddie grits out.
“Okay,” Buck says simply. He sits down with his back against the wall, just outside the bathroom door. He’ll sit here as long as he needs, listening to the quiet hum of the house.
Buck’s done his best to cheer Eddie up even with Chris gone, but he can’t deny that Chris’s absence has hit him too. He knows he’s not Chris’s dad, he never claimed to be, but it feels like something’s missing. It’s as though someone ripped his heart out and handed it back to him after putting it through a shredder. He can’t imagine how Eddie feels.
“It’s…it’s physical,” Eddie finally says, speaking with a slight lisp. “My problem.”
“Did you—“ Buck starts hesitantly.
He doesn’t know what he’s asking. The Eddie he knows would never do that to himself. To Chris. Even in his worst moments, he kept his problems as far away from his son as possible. Now, though? Buck’s been witness to Eddie trying to piece himself back together in the wake of Chris leaving, and he’s not sure what’s left.
“No.”
“Okay.”
If only Buck had been here earlier instead of spending time with other friends, he could have stopped whatever’s going on with Eddie. Eddie comes first. Always has.
“If I…if I show you…promise you won’t leave?” Eddie asks, voice small.
“Never,” Buck breathes out. “Not ever, Eddie, I promise.”
Buck jumps up as the bathroom doorknob rattles. The door slowly creaks open, just a crack. He waits for Eddie to keep going, unsure of what to expect.
Eddie sticks his arm through the gap, though the rest of him is hidden behind the door. “I don’t know what happened. They just showed up.
Buck looks down at Eddie’s arm. Decorating his tanned skin are raised and ragged purple patterns. It doesn’t look like paint, more like they’ve melded with Eddie’s skin, cementing themselves.
“Can I touch?” Buck asks.
“If you want to,” Eddie replies.
Buck lightly drags a finger over Eddie’s skin. Eddie shivers when Buck grazes the patterns, a small glow spreading across the purple. “Is it just your arm?”
“No,” comes the subdued reply.
“Can I—“ Buck hesitates. “Can I see the rest?”
He’s trying to not sound too eager. He knows Eddie’s having a terrible time right now, obviously panicking over his current predicament. Still, Buck can’t help but be in awe. Even more so as Eddie reveals the rest of himself, clad only in a t-shirt and shorts.
The purple patterns snake up his legs and body, tracing down his arms and reaching up his neck toward his face. They glow where Buck touches them. Dark purple ruffles adorn various parts of his skin. His right hand, the one he didn’t show Buck, has dark onyx claws instead of fingernails.
Eddie’s canines have elongated, jutting out and curling above his top lip in the form of two boar tusks, shining a beautiful ivory. He bites his lip nervously as Buck continues to appraise the rest of him. His normally brown eyes are purple with black sclera, flashing in response to Buck’s touch. A tail swishes close to the ground, looking alive, the tip looking sharp enough to draw blood.
He’s beautiful, Buck thinks. Eddie looks down, almost like he’s ashamed of how he looks.
“Wow,” Buck breathes out, unable to say anything else.
“Wow? That’s it?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side, showing off even more patterns trailing up his neck. There are dark purple frills behind his ears. He squeezes his eyes shit for a moment, like he’s trying to get rid of a headache.
“I mean—uh, wow,” Buck repeats dumbly, still staring like an idiot. “You’re beautiful.”
“I sprouted a tail, Buck. That’s not typically what people would call ‘beautiful.’” Eddie punctuates the words with air quotes.
He feels exposed. Even with clothes on, he’s baring a piece of his soul to Buck. A piece that he’s been told to hide, that has made him shunned by his own parents. Eddie feels disgusted by the purple lines desecrating his body. He hates that he can feel the way his tail flicks behind him, just out of the edges of his vision. He hates that his teeth are sharper and it feels like he’s learning to talk all over again.
But Buck? He seems enamored, like Eddie’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. Like maybe Eddie is something more than his worst mistakes.
He called Eddie beautiful.
“I’ll use whatever word I like, Eddie,” Buck says, slightly teasing, even moving closer. No one who’s seen Eddie’s patterns has ever done that before. They’ve all shrunk away in fear, calling him a child of the devil.
Buck is nothing like any of them.
For the first time since the patterns appeared, the voice inside Eddie’s head has gone quiet. “Are you sure?”
Buck blushes furiously, but he keeps his gaze trained on Eddie, almost like he’s cataloguing every part of him. “I just meant— you look— fuck.”
“I look ‘fuck,’” Eddie repeats, feeling his mouth twitch in the corner as he tries to hide his smile.
“No, no, I mean— you look incredible, Eddie. Holy shit,” Buck says. He’s breathing heavy, blue eyes sparkling. And fuck, he really means that, doesn’t he?
“You don’t think it makes me ugly?” Eddie asks, glancing down at the rest of himself. He didn’t even notice, but his left hand is a dark purple, sporting claws.
“Eddie, you could be covered in boils and I’d still think you’re beautiful,” Buck tells him like it’s a prayer.
“Yeah, well, same to you,” Eddie tells him clumsily.
Buck blushes again. “Can I— keep touching?”
“If you want.” Eddie knows he shouldn’t feel surprised, but still, Buck’s looking at him with such reverence that it feels blasphemous.
His patterns react to Buck’s touch, the purple turning to a bright white. It makes him feel calm, like everything’s going to be alright.
“If you want to try and fix this, we can,” Buck murmurs quietly, moving a hand over one of the frills on Eddie’s arms. “But I don’t care what you do either way, I promise.”
“My parents are never going to let Chris come back to me if I look like this,” Eddie says, turning away.
Worthless. Undeserving. He’s better off without you.
“Hey, I won’t let that happen,” Buck says with such conviction that Eddie feels it in his bones. “Chris is going to come back to you, I promise. I’ll help you fight for him.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know you have better things to do, than hang out with a monster,” Eddie says quietly.
Buck shakes his head. “Eddie, you’re one of the most important people in my life. Monster, human, whatever you are, it doesn’t matter. You’re still Eddie. You and Chris mean more to me than anything else. I would help you get him back a million times over, no matter the cost.”
“That’s too much.” Eddie ducks his head, embarrassed. Even looking like this, a monster, Buck remains earnest. He’s so steadfast, ready to do whatever is necessary to make Eddie happy.
“No, it’s not,” Buck says, keeping his unblinking gaze on Eddie. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you realize that you are deserving of good things. You have people by your side who are willing to help you fight your battles no matter what. You got that?”
“You’re making me sound like some kind of perfect being,” Eddie mutters.
Buck offers a half smile. “Hey, no one’s perfect. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
Love? “Love?” Eddie croaks out.
“Oh, uh—“ Buck’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t make any move to leave.
“Do you mean that?” Eddie asks, hope rising in his chest. There’s no mistaking the meaning of Buck’s words.
“Well, yeah,” Buck says honestly. “How could I not?”
Eddie tilts his head up, staring into Buck’s eyes. He moves forward and their lips meet, slow and sweet. Buck’s hands fly to Eddie’s lower back, holding him up. It’s a little awkward, what with Eddie’s boar tusks and Buck’s pointless attempts to hide his smile, but it’s perfect for them.
“I love you too,” Eddie whispers when he finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to Buck’s. His tail swishes behind him. “In case that wasn’t clear.”
“Hmm, mind making it more clear for me?” Buck teases, keeping his hold on Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “If that’s what you need.”
Their second kiss is interrupted by Buck going, “your patterns are glowing again. All of them.”
Eddie looks down. His patterns are indeed glowing, the jagged edges fading into the light. He thinks he’s starting to see what Buck does; they’re beautiful. The quiet voice in his head melts away completely, almost as though it was never there.
It feels like the start of something new.