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The winding road ahead stretched on out of town, disappearing on the horizon behind a cluster of trees. Eddie envied it for its easy disappearance and for the way it carelessly stretched beyond the first rays of the sun, which were sinking down beneath the visible Earth to visit the other side of the planet once again. It was all far too philosophical for a Wednesday evening.
Eddie took one wobbling step in front of the other along the length of the curb, balancing precariously as he walked. His mother would scold him. She'd say he was sure to break an ankle and maybe he was but so what if he did? It would get him out of school for a bit. He didn't mind school so much — at least, not the learning — but the people were awful. He'd thought the last two years of high school were supposed to be the best two years but it was an utter lie. It had been said that people grew out of their judgemental phase at around sixteen to eighteen years old but it wasn't true in the slightest. If anything, they'd grown more judgemental. However, the title of the most judgemental still lay with Eddie's parents.
Perhaps that was why he was unsteadily wandering his way along a curb, taking the long route home. To be completely honest, he wasn't sure this could be considered a route home at all. He wasn't really walking back to his house. He was stalling.
It might have been unfair to say that Eddie hated living at home. He didn't. He disliked his parents but he didn't hate them and he certainly didn't hate his sisters. There was some begrudging feelings on all sides of each other but there wasn't hate. As much as Eddie might have disliked his parents for their decisions and begrudged his sisters for a stolen youth, he loved them all. He just struggled to spend more time in that house than he had to.
School was marginally better than at home, although that wasn't to say that it was Heaven on Earth and, as with all marginally better things, it had an expiration date. Namely, next month. Eddie's last year at high school hadn't been everything he'd dreamed. Still, he was headed for university in September and he was semi-hopeful that that would be better, although nothing had yet proven to be better than what came before it. University would be an escape. Eddie would get to live on his own for the first time and he wouldn't have any of the responsibilities that he had currently. His parents would have to actually be parents for a change and he would get to study something interesting (once he'd figured out what he actually wanted to do) and meet new people.
The curb made a sharp corner and Eddie turned and followed along it, nearly bumping into an old woman who was walking along the path.
He would miss his sisters. Sophia and Adriana were his rocks in an otherwise dreary and somewhat miserable life. Sophia was six years his younger and Adriana was nine years and, with their father often away and their mother somewhat emotionally unavailable and overbearing all at once, Eddie was left to look after them. He felt a little resentment towards them because of it but nothing could overpower his love for his sisters. After all, they were only eleven and eight and they didn't understand most of what their parents put on Eddie. He could never bring himself to go as far as to blame them.
Eddie was interrupted in his thoughts by his phone buzzing. It was Shannon. She was asking if he wanted to go to a party later.
He'd miss her too when he left. He loved Shannon. She was his best friend and had been since he started high school. She was bright, witty and outgoing. Eddie thought of himself as pretty much the opposite of all those things. Quite why she wanted to be friends with him he wasn't sure but she'd stuck with him for years now and he adored her for it.
However, as much as he loved his best friend, he wasn't about to go to a party on a Wednesday night and face the wrath of his parents.
The curb dropped and vanished and Eddie finally looked up from his feet to cross the road. He'd made his way to the outskirts of town where there were a few small shops and the library, which was small too and unvisited enough that Eddie sometimes took himself there to do homework or study for exams. He had homework that he was supposed to be doing in his rucksack, which was currently slung over his shoulder. He would do it eventually but he had a habit of doing things at the last minute. Maybe it would be good for him to make an early start. Well, it would be an early-ish start. It was due in three days and was handed out three days ago.
Eddie turned his attention to the library, making a beeline for it, but stopped when he heard something other than the whistles of the birds and the faint breeze: music.
He wasn't particularly musical himself, having been described as tone-deaf by several people, including his sisters, his parents and an old piano teacher, but he liked the melody. It was gentle and had an almost wistful quality to it, if music could be wistful. The little pauses and accidentals made it sound as though someone was waiting for something to happen or remembering something with little gaps in the memory until they picked it up again and it came back to them.
Eddie glanced at the library. He really should have gone in. However, he'd already been accepted into university and so his end of semester exams didn't carry quite as much weight to them. At least, that's what he told himself as he crossed the street and headed towards the source of the music.
He ended up following the melody past a few shops and to the old music shop on the end of the road. It was slightly run-down, somewhat staggering in age, and named "The Blues", which was a bit off-putting. The music drifted through the slight gap of the ajar door. Eddie slowly pushed it open, peering through the crack.
In the middle of the shop, amongst all the old string instruments, was a stool. On that stool sat a boy. He was tall and lanky with curly, blonde hair and he was strumming a guitar. It looked very much used with the blue paint flaking off and a carving of a scribble, presumably hiding a previous carving, on the body. It looked well-loved.
Eddie stayed still, watching as the boy deftly plucked at the strings with his fingers, his left hand assuming all sorts of positions that Eddie hadn't realised the human hand was capable of forming. There was a slight frown on the boy's face, which drew Eddie's attention to his eyebrows, which were knitted together. One of his eyebrows had some sort of stain around it. It was a reddish sort of colour and went both above and below his eyebrow. It looked vaguely like he'd been in a fight but it was too small and precise and flat for that.
The boy's eyes were focused on the fretboard, watching his own fingers dart and twist and contort. He looked like he was concentrating and Eddie felt that he was stealing a glance at a precious moment.
He was about to step back and walk away when he accidentally jostled the door too much and a bell rang.
The boy's eyes shot up and locked with Eddie's. Eddie winced.
The boy bit his lip, the furrow in his brow smoothing out. "Hi."
"Hi," Eddie replied, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, sorry for disturbing you."
"Don't apologise," the boy said. "Do you play?"
"The guitar?" Eddie asked, shaking his head. "No. I did a little piano as a kid but I'm horrible. I'm tone-deaf."
The boy grinned. "Are you really? Show me."
Eddie glanced behind him. The streets were mostly empty with a smattering of people walking about their business. There was no immediate excuse for him not to go in and the boy in front of him seemed friendly so he took a chance and headed inside, letting the door shut behind him with a quiet chime of the bell.
"I'm Eddie," Eddie said. "Um, Eddie Diaz."
"Buck," the boy replied. "Do I know you? You look familiar."
Eddie squinted at Buck, trying to place his face. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen, just."
"I'm eighteen too. We probably go to the same school. Do you live here?"
Buck nodded. "Yeah. A little way out, but basically. I must have seen you in the corridors."
"Yeah, you must have." Eddie gave him an awkward smile and Buck smiled back brightly. His expression seemed to light up the room even more, despite the sunlight already streaming in through the gaps in the shutters.
"So, show me how terrible you are," Buck said, "and I can show you how good you could be."
"I'm a lost cause, I'm afraid," Eddie said.
Buck shook his head. "Bullshit. Everyone's got a musical bone in them somewhere."
"You haven't met me."
"I'll play a note and you sing it back to me," Buck said, plucking a single note on the guitar. Eddie winced at himself as he hummed a note in response. In his defence, it was definitely a note, but not the right one. He could see it in Buck's incredulous expression.
"See?" he said, feeling his face heat up.
"Maybe singing isn't your thing," Buck suggested not unkindly.
Eddie snorted. "Yeah, I already knew that."
"What about playing?" Buck asked. "I can teach you a few chords."
"You don't have to."
"I want to," Buck said, his tone bordering on obscenely earnest. "Come on. I'll show you."
Maybe it was the fact that Eddie didn't really want to go home or the fact that he didn't really want to do his homework or the fact that Buck was quite easy on the eyes, but something compelled Eddie to approach Buck and let himself be handed the guitar.
Buck stood, patting the seat so that Eddie would know to sit down, and picking one of the other guitars off the wall. The weight of the instrument was unfamiliar in Eddie's hands and he wasn't entirely sure how to hold it.
Buck slipped his guitar strap on and then came to help Eddie adjust his grip. "Permission to manoeuvre you?"
Eddie smiled. "Yeah, permission granted."
Buck beamed and started adjusting Eddie's position with a few gentle presses here and a guiding hand there. Soon, Eddie felt a lot more comfortable.
"We'll start with the E minor chord because that's literally just two fingers," Buck said, demonstrating the two fingers on the second and third string on the second fret.
Eddie tried to copy him but his wrist ended up bent in a funny position.
"Okay, common error," Buck said, reaching for Eddie's wrist and moving it backwards and forwards until it relaxed. "Try not to be so stiff. I know it's easier said than done but it comes with practice."
"I'm already failing," Eddie said mostly lightheartedly.
Buck shook his head vigorously. "No! You can't fail at this, I promise. Music is open to interpretation."
"My music can be interpreted as shit," Eddie said with about three quarters of joke in his tone.
"Can be," Buck said. "That doesn't mean it is. Music is self-expression. You can't express yourself wrong."
Eddie tilted his head and smiled. "You really believe that?"
"I know it," Buck answered sincerely. "There you go! Now try playing the chord."
Somewhat stiltedly, Eddie played the chord. It rang out mostly clearly with the help of Buck's adjustments.
"That's amazing," Buck said. "You're a natural."
"I'm not but thank you," Eddie said. "How long have you been playing?"
"Since I was twelve," Buck said. "I begged my parents for a guitar. My sister overheard and ended up buying one for me and I taught myself with the help of YouTube."
Eddie couldn't help but be impressed. He'd had so many lessons and still was awful at music. For Buck to have taught himself how to play was unfathomable to him.
"That's really cool," he said. Buck smiled at him and Eddie smiled back and they stayed in that moment for a few seconds with Eddie's hand still in position of the E minor chord.
Eddie looked away first, clearing his throat. "I should probably be going."
He stood up, handing the guitar back to Buck. Buck took it and set it down gently back in its case.
"Hey," Buck said just as Eddie was about to turn to leave. "Um, there's a party. It's on the other side of town but I have my driving license. If you wanted to go, I could give you a lift."
Eddie hesitated. He'd already told Shannon that he wasn't going and his parents would be furious. However, Buck looked so genuinely hopeful that Eddie might agree and Eddie was getting a bit sick and tired of doing what his parents wanted him to do. This was one night. There would be others where he could do what was expected of him but maybe tonight he could do something different.
He nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."
Buck visibly relaxed, grinning. "Okay. Let me just put everything away and we'll go."
Eddie sent a quick text to the family group chat about where he was going and switched his phone on silent. He knew it would be blowing up but he'd decided not to care and he doubted his parents would risk their reputation in showing up at a stranger's house to drag him back home. They weren't the type to cause a big scene in public.
Eddie pocketed his phone and followed Buck out of the door to his car, excited at the prospect of a night of freedom.
—
"When was the last time you went to a party?" Buck asked, turning the engine on. It rumbled to life, spitting a little before roaring into action.
Eddie winced. "Do my sister's birthday parties count?"
Buck raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"
Eddie pressed his lips together and nodded. "I've been invited before but my parents aren't really fans of parties."
"Are they going to hate me for taking you?" Buck asked, sounding genuinely worried.
Eddie chuckled. "Maybe it's best if you don't tell them. Either that or never meet them. Whichever is more sustainable."
Buck shuddered. "I can't imagine having parents like that. Mine don't exactly care that I go out partying. They don't care much about anything."
Eddie frowned, taking in Buck's tense shoulders and the slightly self-deprecating tone. "That sounds like it sucks. My parents definitely care. Well, my mom does. She's just ridiculously overbearing."
Buck turned a corner and stopped at the traffic lights, which blinked at them from amber to red. Eddie leaned back in his seat and drank in the sight of Buck with one hand on the steering wheel and the other running through his hair. "It's not so bad. My sister, Maddie, is great. She's away at the moment. She moved. I send here postcards and things but it's not the same."
"How old is she?"
"She's nine years older than me."
Eddie smiled. "My youngest sister is nine years younger than me. I know that when I move away it's going to be tough for us but I think a postcard every now and then would mean the world to the both of us. Being an older sibling can be tough."
"Being a younger sibling can be tough," Buck said, not diminishing Eddie's statement but rather adding to it.
"Life is tough," Eddie agreed. "I'm sure only children would think the same."
Buck grinned as the light turned green and the car started again. "Is that your philosophy? 'Life is tough'?"
Eddie shook his head, laughing. "That's awful, isn't it?"
Buck didn't answer. He just snorted and carried on driving.
They reached the main road fairly quickly. Buck was a good driver, if a little on the slow side. He said that he liked to be careful. Eddie thought perhaps he was just a slightly hesitant person. He got the impression that Buck hadn't always been a hesitant person from the flex of his hands when a car sped up and the gleam in his eye when Eddie said something that Buck deemed to be funny — the gleam that looked like he might be about to do something spontaneous, although probably not unwelcome. Eddie didn't think that Buck could be unwelcome if he tried. He was so bright and full of life and he instantly put Eddie at ease.
"What's your philosophy?" Eddie asked after a long pause, probably one that was too long to continue the conversation.
Buck turned, just for a split second, to look at him and a car tried to overtake them. It was a blip of colour and light and noise, a horn reverberating in Eddie's skull and a swerve of the car as Buck yanked the steering wheel away from the movement and onto the side of the road. The car screeched to a stop off the road before it hit a wall.
Eddie was trembling, hands shaking like leaves as he clung onto his seat, bracing himself for an impact that never came.
Buck was breathing heavily, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were pure white. He swallowed. "Are you okay?"
Eddie was decidedly not okay. He shook his head. "Are you?"
Buck shook his head back. "No. Are you alright physically?"
Eddie didn't dare release his grip of the seat. "I think so. Are you?"
"I think so," Buck echoed. "Shit. Was that… Was that on me?"
"No," Eddie said, feeling a little of the sheer panic starting to fade. "No, it was definitely on them. They shouldn't have tried to overtake us."
Buck nodded. "Do you think we should report them for reckless driving? We nearly crashed."
Eddie slowly let go of the seat, hands still shaking. "Can we do that in the morning? I want to go home."
"Yeah," Buck said. "Yeah, of course. I'll take you home. I think the car's fine."
He switched the ignition on and the car, somehow, started again. Buck pulled off the side of the road slowly and they drove the rest of the way to Eddie's house in near complete silence. The only words Eddie said were the directions to his house.
When they pulled up outside, Buck watched Eddie get out of the car. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Eddie nodded. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah. See you tomorrow?"
Eddie nodded again. "See you tomorrow."
He closed the car door and didn't look over his shoulder before heading inside and straight up to his room to sleep off the shock.
—
Eddie dreamed of a big empty void, stretching out as far as the eye could see. In his peripheral vision, he could see light and he kept trying to turn around to face it but it vanished as soon as he looked it dead-on. He could hear people crying for him — his mom, his dad, his sisters — but he couldn't open his mouth and answer or make any sort of muffled scream. When he finally looked down, the nothingness overwhelmed in and he plummeted and, with a jolt, woke up.
Eddie stretched his arms out, rolling his shoulders back with a wince. Clearing his throat, he picked up his phone and checked the time. Weirdly, there were no messages from Shannon. He'd expected his phone to have blown up or for her to be knocking down his door demanding to know where he was and where he'd been.
Instead, the world was silent.
In fact, it wasn't just the absence of knocking or Eddie's phone buzzing that made up the silence.
Usually, at this time of day anyway, Eddie could hear birds outside. Mainly pigeons, occasionally crows and ravens that liked to squawk and dance on the roof, and sometimes sparrows and blackbirds. Normally, the sounds of the birds alongside the rising of the sun would be like a natural alarm clock in Eddie's morning routine but he couldn't hear anything.
The wind was whistling a very faint song but, as Eddie listened closer, he realised he couldn't hear any cars either. It was seven o'clock on a Thursday morning. The streets should have been jammed with cars, horns blaring and engines spluttering.
Frowning, Eddie got out of bed, still dressed in yesterday's clothes, and opened his blinds.
Outside he saw nothing.
Well, not nothing — there were the same streets and shops and the trees and the neighbour's bins and the litter that the kids at school left lying around the place — but there were no people, no birds, no cats. There were no animals, including humans, at all.
"Mom!" Eddie called, backing away from his window and reaching out blindly for his door, yanking it open and stepping out onto the landing. "Mom!"
He expected to hear his mom start yelling at him from downstairs about how late he'd got back and how now he was yelling at her like she was a servant but nothing came.
Eddie checked his sisters' room, not bothering to knock even though he knew they'd be mad about that. When no tell-tale yelps came from behind the door, he knew they weren't in there without seeing into the room.
Their beds were on opposite sides of the room with Adriana's a wreck as always and Sophia's neater than it would have been if it had never been touched. Their clothes were still piled up in their laundry basket and their room still smelled strongly of Sophia's perfume. Adriana's ripped poster of Freddy Mercury was still up on the wall, the tear going through his eye and his moustache.
Nothing had been touched.
Eddie went to his parents' bedroom next, again foregoing knocking. It was as neat and uninviting as ever. His dad's phone was on the bedside table, where he often left it after forgetting to take it with him to work. Eddie went and checked it. No new messages. Not a single notification.
Eddie unplugged it and headed downstairs, throat starting to constrict. He texted Shannon on his way down.
Eddie (07:03): where is everyone??
Downstairs was empty. Eddie checked the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom and his mom's office. There was no one there, not even the sound of telltale giggles coming from a hiding place in the largest cupboard. Eddie checked in there twice just in case.
Three minutes had passed. Shannon still hadn't answered.
Eddie knew his best friend. She was an early riser, always had been, and got up frequently at five in the morning. She was also chronically on her phone, forever online and would respond to him within two minutes at most if only to tell him that she was busy and couldn't talk at the moment.
Eddie slipped his phone in his pocket and headed outside with the goal of finding someone.
He stepped out into the street, looking both ways before he crossed the road despite the lack of traffic, and headed to the one place where there was bound to be people: school.
He half-ran there and, when he arrived, he was five minutes earlier than he usually would have been. The entire twenty minute walk there, he saw no one. There were no cars moving, no students walking, no people coming out of their houses.
When he reached the school, the gates were closed and the the streets were silent. His heart was beginning to race. He wiped his palms on his jeans and headed home, thinking that maybe his family would be there this time.
As he turned the corner and saw his house, he noticed a car outside that hadn't been there before: Buck's car.
"Thank fuck," he breathed, running towards it. "Hey!"
The car door opened and out stepped Buck. He looked awful — panic-stricken and half-hyperventilating — and, when he saw Eddie, his whole body started shaking.
"Eddie," Buck said, catching him by the shoulders as soon as Eddie came close enough. "Oh my God, I'm so glad you're here."
"Where is everyone?" Eddie said. "I haven't seen a single person since I woke up."
Buck shook his head, eyes growing wide and filling with tears. "I don't know. I can't find anyone. My parents—" He cut himself off.
Eddie's stomach rolled. "It's fine. It's fine. Clearly, everyone's gone somewhere. Have you checked the town hall?"
"I've been everywhere," Buck said, voice cracking. "I've looked everywhere. When I knocked on your door and you didn't answer, I thought I was the last one."
Eddie shook his head firmly. "You're not the last one. Neither of us are. They've all got to be here. We'll do a sweep of the town again. Two heads are better than one."
Buck nodded. Eddie patted him on the shoulder, trying to be as reassuring as possible whilst freaking out.
"Come on. We'll start with my street and work east."
—
Three hours and an extensive search later, they'd found nothing. Everyone had gone. The town was deserted.
Buck had tried to search for anything on his phone about what had happened and they'd both texted everyone they knew. Nothing had been published that day, there was no live TV and no one was responding to any messages. They even tried calling 911. There had been no answer.
Eddie was trying his hardest to stay upbeat and to be the optimistic person like he was for his sisters but it was rapidly becoming a Herculean task.
Buck looked about five seconds away from a mental breakdown and Eddie felt like he was in much the same position. They couldn't just keep looking around in a ghost town. It wouldn't make either of them feel better.
"I have an idea," Eddie said as they reached Buck's car. "We'll get out of town. We can go to the next town over and maybe they'll have some idea of what's happened."
Buck nodded, seemingly perking up at having a clear goal. "Yeah. There will be someone out there. We just have to find them."
"Exactly," Eddie said, his confidence in his plan starting to grow.
Buck unlocked his car and got in the driver's seat. Eddie followed suit with the passenger's and the car engine spluttered into life, taking a second before the wheels started rolling.
Buck reached out, fiddling with the knob on the car's radio. Answering static crackled and Buck quickly switched it off again, paling.
"Forgot," he said, voice strained. Eddie's heart sank further.
"I Spy," he said all of a sudden. "Why don't we play I Spy to pass the time?"
It was what he did with his sisters on long car trips or in their room on the rare occasion that their mom raised her voice or on the more common occasion where their dad did. It was the best distraction technique Eddie knew. It was also all he could think of.
"Okay," Buck said, seeming to welcome the game to take his mind off things. "Do you want to go first?"
I Spy was notoriously difficult to play in moving vehicles as everything disappeared out of sight after a few seconds but Eddie was not easily defeated so he turned his attention to inside the car. It wasn't the fanciest of cars with the cracked material of the car seats and the worn seatbelts. It had the odd bits of pieces of a well-loved car, though, with its car door pockets filled with random items: cups, empty food packages, plastic soldier toys and the like.
Eddie ended up looking upwards and settling on his chosen item being the tree-shaped air-freshener.
"I spy with my little eye," he said, "something beginning with 'A'."
Buck frowned as they pulled onto the main road, eyes darting around as much as they could whilst staying vaguely within the lane. "'A'? Nothing begins with 'A'."
"You're clearly not looking hard enough, then," Eddie teased.
"It's not something ridiculous like 'air', is it?"
Eddie smiled. "You're close."
"Aardvark," Buck declared.
Eddie snorted. "Where in this road do you see an aardvark?"
"In my imagination," Buck retorted.
"I can't see your imagination, can I?"
Buck shrugged. "Maybe you're a mind-reader. With everything else that's going on, I wouldn't be surprised."
That solemnised the mood a little.
Buck cleared his throat. "Asphalt."
Eddie shook his head. "Nope."
"An avenue."
"Getting colder."
"An access road?"
"Freezing cold."
"An alley?"
"You're getting frostbite."
Buck grinned. "Alright, asshole, what is it?"
"It's not in the spirit of the game if I tell you," Eddie pointed out.
Buck pouted.
"Fine. Air-freshener."
Buck gasped dramatically. "What? That's not fair!"
"It's not my fault you didn't spot the air-freshener," Eddie said, laughing. "
"You could have at least called it a tree or something!"
"There are trees everywhere! You'd have guessed within seconds!"
Buck was grinning widely now, face flushed and bright. "Alright, fine. I'm an idiot."
"I didn't say that…"
"You're so mean."
"Well, you're stuck with me." It was probably the wrong thing to say given the circumstances as Buck's grin dimmed a little and the atmosphere soured.
"Yeah," Buck said. "And you're stuck with me."
Eddie turned to look at Buck. "That doesn't sound so bad to me."
Buck scoffed. "You'll kill me by the end of the day."
"A month, surely?"
"A week."
"Fortnight?"
"You're not lasting a fortnight in my company."
Eddie hummed. "What's so bad about your company?"
There was a brief silence — a complete silence as there were no birds in the sky or other cars on the road. Buck huffed.
"My own parents don't like me."
"They do," Eddie said instinctively. "They have to."
"Your parents have to love you. They don't have to like you."
Eddie shook his head. "I like you. They don't know what they're missing out on."
Buck smiled lopsidedly. "Thanks. Is it my turn or did I forfeit when I made you tell me the answer?"
Eddie pretended to think about it. "I think I'll let you have a turn."
"I spy," Buck said, glancing around, "with my little eye, something beginning with 's'."
"Is it the sky?"
Buck's cheeks darkened.
Eddie's mouth dropped. "No way. No way! That's the most basic answer."
"Shut up," Buck said, with no heat behind it. "I'm concentrating on driving."
"I don't think I've ever won that quickly. My sisters don't have answers that obvious."
"Shut up," Buck said, chuckling. "I couldn't think of anything. Besides, if it's the most basic, obvious answer then why did you guess it?"
Eddie shrugged. "Maybe I'm a mind-reader."
Buck took the nearest exit and they pulled into the next town. It was devastatingly quiet.
"Think we should have a look?" Buck asked, voice wavering minutely.
Eddie bit his lip. "Maybe we should keep driving."
"Yeah. Good call."
They made a U-turn and headed back onto the main road.
—
The night came at a snail's pace. By midnight, the pair of them were yawning in synch and Eddie knew it was starting to get ridiculous.
"We should find somewhere to sleep," he said. "A house or something."
Buck frowned. "How would we get in? I'm not breaking someone's window."
"Then we sleep in the car," Eddie said. "Pull over. There's a gas station coming up. We can fill up the tank and have a rest."
Buck looked like he wanted to argue but was interrupted by another yawn. Sighing, he turned on the indicator for an audience of no one and pulled into the gas station by the side of the motorway.
The car rumbled to a stop and Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt, stretching his legs and his arms and twisting his torso from side to side.
"I'm so stiff," Buck complained, stretching an arm above his head. "Jesus. How long were we driving?"
"Since ten o'clock," Eddie said. "I know you said you didn't want to break any windows but I'm starving. Do you think the shop owner would mind if we broke their window?"
"Check the door first," Buck said. "I'll fill up the tank."
They both groaned as they got out of the car. Eddie's legs felt like lead. He forced himself to jog over to the small convenience shop, stretching his muscles a little. He pushed on the door and nearly cried with relief when it opened.
"Buck!" he yelled, turning back to face his friend. "It's open!"
Buck held up a thumb as he fiddled with the gas pump.
Eddie stepped inside the shop, feasting his eyes on all the food. It was mostly chips, chocolate and candy but his stomach rumbled at the sight. There were also large bottles of water and other drinks, which made his dry throat feel damper just looking at them.
He grabbed a small shopping basket and went to shove as much stuff in it as possible.
The aisles were small but anything but sparse. Each shelf was crammed with as much processed food as possible.
Unable to help himself from doing so, Eddie tore open a packet of three Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and stuffed two in his mouth at once, covering his chewing with his hand, although there was no one there to see except if Buck was looking through the window.
Eddie felt a thousand times better when the chocolate hit his tongue and the peanuts crunched under his teeth. He hadn't realised quite how hungry he really was until now. He could have eaten a whole store's worth of the stuff.
However, he didn't want to get too distracted so he carried on exploring until he found the aisle with basic objects in it. He grabbed some toothpaste and a couple of toothbrushes, tossing them in the already very heavy shopping basket. His next items were several rolls of toilet paper, followed a few books because, as much as Eddie loved spending time with Buck, he also loved his own time and reading was a good way of relaxing.
The bell above the door chimed as Buck came in. "I've filled up the tank."
"I've got the essentials," Eddie replied, barely managing to hold up his shopping basket.
Buck raised an eyebrow. "Are Hershey's Kisses essential?"
Eddie felt his face heat up. "You never know. I've got toothbrushes too for after them anyway. I can't find any pillows or anything but I did find some picnic blankets so they'll do."
Buck hummed. "How do you tell the difference between a picnic blanket and a regular blanket?"
"Picnic blankets are waterproof," Eddie said. "The material's different but they'll be better than nothing. We're just lucky it's not winter."
Buck broke into a wide yawn.
Eddie smiled. "Time for bed, I think."
They trudged outside to the car and Eddie put the shopping basket in the trunk, taking out the things needed to get ready for bed. Once they'd both brushed their teeth, used the toilet inside the gas station, and had a packaged sandwich, it was time to lie down.
"You take it," Buck said, gesturing to the backseat.
Eddie shook his head. "It's your car."
"Technically, it's my parents," Buck said. "Please? It'll make me feel better."
"And it'll make me feel worse," Eddie pointed out, sighing. "Maybe I can take it for four hours and then you take it for four hours. Does that seem fair?"
Buck nodded. Eddie got out of the passenger seat and got into the back, grabbing his picnic blanket and lying down. The seat his head was on was surprisingly comfortable.
"Goodnight," he said.
"Goodnight," Buck echoed.
Falling asleep wasn't as easy as Eddie had anticipated. He was exhausted but he was also terrified. He stared at the back of Buck's seat, blinking in the dark and listening to the soft sound of Buck's breathing.
After a while, Buck whispered, "Still awake?"
"Yep."
"This is insane, isn't it?"
"You don't have to keep whispering," Eddie pointed out.
"Right," Buck said at normal volume. "I can't sleep. I'm so worried about my family."
Eddie sighed. "Me too, but the more we sleep now the longer we can spend looking for them tomorrow because we'll have the energy to."
"Good point," Buck conceded, "but easier sad than done. What do you think has happened to everyone?"
"I don't know," Eddie said honestly.
Buck huffed. "Maybe it was alien spaceships."
"Maybe."
Buck was silent for a moment before he said, "What I really want to know is why the aliens didn't take us."
Eddie didn't say it but that was the part he was most concerned about. "I'm sure they had their reasons."
"Yeah. Sure. Goodnight, Eddie."
"Goodnight, Buck."
—
Eddie woke up in the backseat of the car decidedly not four hours later as the sun was decidedly up in the sky. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms and legs.
Buck was snoring away in the front seat like a lawnmower. Eddie didn't mind it. It was nice to have a noise in the deathly quiet.
He let Buck sleep. There was no one around anyway, nothing that indicated any signs of life. The guy might has well have a good night's rest.
Eddie checked his watch. It was four minutes gone eight o'clock.
He leaned over the back of the seats and grabbed a book from the shopping basket in the trunk, opening it and starting to read.
He couldn't focus very well on it as his mind was elsewhere. He was praying that his sisters and his parents and Shannon were all safe. Eddie didn't know what he'd do with himself if they weren't.
He mindlessly turned the pages of the book, skimming over the words, until Buck woke up with a dreary sigh and a noise of discomfort.
"'S the time?" Buck mumbled.
Eddie checked. "Nearly nine."
Buck twisted around in his seat. "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you let me sleep eight hours in the backseat?"
Buck didn't protest any further. Eddie got out of the backseat and into the passenger's, reaching in the glove compartment for the map that he'd taken from the shop.
"We should start crossing places we've been off," he said. "Do you have a pen?"
"In your car door pocket," Buck said.
Eddie reached down and sure enough there one was. He crossed off their town and the towns they'd driven past on their route yesterday. "Where to next?"
Having come from Los Angeles, they made it to the gas station in Newport within about twelve hours. They stuck to the coast and made it to Westport a few hours after setting off from said gas station. They were both tired and grumpy and scared by the time the sign for the Westport beaches came up and struck Eddie with an idea.
"Let's go to the beach."
"The beach?" Buck repeated. "Don't we have more important things to do?"
"Like look for people who aren't here?" Eddie retorted harshly before sighing. "Sorry. I'm on edge. I could do with a break. It's a nice day and at least we'll be the only ones there. That's a dream beach day, right?"
"I guess," Buck said. "Alright. Let's go."
They pulled up to an empty beach car park and parked the car, getting out and heading down to the sandy shores.
Eddie took his shoes off before they got down, leaving them in the car, and Buck did the same. The picnic blankets would have been nice to have with lunch but they couldn't be sacrificed so readily so they stayed in the car too. Instead, Eddie left the food all in its packages in the shopping basket and brought the whole basket down with them.
Laying on something as soft as sand was a massive relief for Eddie's back. He smiled at the sound of the waves — the ocean being the only thing that still made a noise other than the wind and Buck and Eddie.
Buck sprawled out on the ground, enjoying the sun as it beat down on them overhead.
"What do you want to do?" Eddie ended up asking. "When we find everyone, I mean."
Buck took a pause before answering. "I'm in a band. I'd like to see where that goes. It's just a bit of fun but we're pretty decent. Maybe I could be a musician."
"I'd come to your concerts," Eddie said.
"Liar."
"I mean it!" Eddie found himself quite indignant. "You're good at the guitar. I'm sure you're good in your band. Besides, that way I could see you sometimes when you were busy touring."
"Touring? That's a bit of a leap from 'I play in a band'."
Eddie shrugged. "Maybe I just know you're going to go far."
Buck grinned. "Thanks. What are you going to do?"
"University," Eddie replied. "I love learning, always have. Knowing why things are the way they are is so interesting."
"What subject?" Buck asked.
"History."
"I could see that. You've got that mysterious history teacher that everyone has a crush on vibe."
Eddie turned his head, cheek resting on the sand, to look at Buck. "Oh, yeah?"
Buck, to his credit, looked completely unashamed. "Oh yeah. I'd come to your classes."
Eddie laughed. "Well, I hate to disappoint you but I don't want to teach. I'm not good with people."
"Bullshit."
"It's true!"
"What do you want to do then?"
Eddie hadn't voiced it to anyone before. It was a fantasy and one that his parents would readily call him out on but they weren't here right now and Buck was and he looked so earnest. "I want to write."
Buck didn't blink. "What kind of books?"
"Historical books," Eddie said. "Non-fiction. I want to make history interesting for people, like it is for me. It's stupid."
"It's not stupid," Buck said immediately. "It's incredible. I couldn't even write an essay, let alone a book."
Eddie smiled. "Well, I haven't written any books just yet."
"You will," Buck replied. "I know you will. I have faith in you."
Eddie's smile widened. "You hardly know me."
Buck shrugged. "I think I know you quite well at this point, and I like you."
Eddie's heartbeat was thudding against his ribcage. "I like you too."
Buck grinned and looked up at the sky. "The sky looks pretty today."
Eddie turned his attention upwards, squinting at the vast blue above them. "Yeah. It does."
"Hey, Eddie?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for this. I'm glad it's you I'm stuck with."
Eddie reached out, brushing his pinky against Buck's. After a second, Buck's pinky linked with his. "I'm glad it's you too."
He barely dared to breathe, let alone look at Buck, but he had to. He found Buck beaming at him and, when their eyes met, Buck squeezed his pinky lightly.
Eddie cleared his throat. "We should get going."
"Maybe," Buck said quietly, "but there's no rush. We're the only people in the world right now. Literally."
Something left a pang in Eddie's chest. "You don't know that."
Buck hummed in a low voice. "Well, it sure feels like it."
Eddie knew it was metaphorical but the ring of truth caused a wave of panic to wash over him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
"You good?" Buck asked, a hint of fear in his voice.
"Yeah," Eddie said. "I'm fine. We really should get going."
He pulled his hand away from Buck's, his pinky feeling freezing cold all of a sudden. He didn't look at Buck but he could imagine the disappointment in his eyes.
"Okay," Buck said.
"I'll drive," Eddie said. "Give you a break."
"Okay," Buck said again. "Look, Eddie—"
"Come on," Eddie interrupted, getting to his feet and brushing the sand off his jeans and t-shirt. He trudged back to the car, knowing Buck would follow him. He could feel the tension, could feel Buck's hesitance, and knew distantly that Buck hadn't meant to step on a nerve but he was beyond the point of being reasonable.
Terror had been injected in his veins. He was buzzing with horrified energy. All he could think of was his family and Shannon, their imagined mangled bodies in the back of his mind or, worse still, their absence altogether from the universe itself. What if they were nowhere? What if they were never anywhere again?
He got into the driver's seat and turned the engine on, ignoring Buck as he climbed into the passenger's beside him. They couldn't even have the radio on.
Eddie pushed his foot down on the pedal, focusing on the open road, which only made him feel more alone and more scared.
His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, breaths becoming difficult to suck in and shaky on the exhale.
Shannon had wanted to do photography. Adriana had wanted to be a vet. Sophia had wanted to go to university. His parents had wanted to grow old together. Had, had, had, had.
His head was spinning. The car veered slightly to the left and he righted it sharply.
"Eddie," Buck tried.
Eddie shook his head, blinking furiously. "No."
"Eddie," Buck tried again. "You're not in a fit state to drive."
"And you are?" Eddie snapped, shoving his foot on the breaks so that they both jolted forward as the car abruptly stopped. "You were freaking out yesterday. How are you so calm right now?"
Buck's eyes were wide and worried. "Because only one of us can freak out at a time."
Eddie's breathing was shallow, his heart pounding in his chest.
"I think I'm dying," he gasped.
"You're not dying," Buck promised, undoing his seatbelt and reaching across to undo Eddie's seatbelt too. He pressed a hand over Eddie's chest and one over his. "You're having a panic attack, okay?"
"Not okay," Eddie managed to rasp.
Buck didn't crack a smile. "I need you to do some box breathing with me. In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four, repeat."
"I can't. Buck, I—"
"You can, alright? I know you can. Big, deep breaths. You got this."
Buck started exaggerating his own breathing, taking in long and lasting breaths. Eddie tried to copy him, tears escaping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. The one benefit of crying was that it forced his breaths to become more jagged, yes, but further apart.
Buck took Eddie's hand in his, and pressed it over his chest, right over his heart. Buck's heart was racing but it was mildly less fast than Eddie's. Eddie felt the steady ba-dump-ba-dump and tried to match his breathing to every odd beat.
He was crying in earnest and, distantly, he realised it was horrifyingly embarrassing, but he couldn't care about that right now. His gasping, snotty, broken being was a secondary thought.
Buck was still talking, gently and slowly. "That's it. You got this. You got this. I'm here."
"Mhm," Eddie mumbled. "You're here."
Buck smiled a little. "Yeah, yeah, I am. I'm not much, I know, but I'm here."
Eddie shook his head violently. "Shut up. You're not allowed to be self-deprecating right now."
"Sorry," Buck said sheepishly. "I'm awesome and I'm here. Is that better?"
Eddie nodded, feeling Buck's heart start to slow and matching his breathing with it. His crying had previously been wracking his body but now it was more gently rocking it.
"God," he said, wiping his face with his arm. "Shit, I'm sorry."
"Hey, no," Buck said. "It's okay. The last two days have been a lot."
"Yeah," Eddie agreed weakly.
Buck's mouth twisted upwards. "You feeling better?"
Eddie nodded, his breathing back to something whole. "Much. Could… Could you drive? I'll take over in a bit. I just need a minute."
"Of course," Buck said. "I'll do anything you need."
Eddie was beginning to realise that that was true.
They drove for the rest of the day, going around the border of Canada, which was as despairingly empty as everything else, and going through Washington and then halfway through Montana. The night came quickly. They stopped in a park's carpark, getting out the picnic blankets.
"You're sleeping in the back," Eddie insisted.
Buck tried to argue but Eddie won in the end. He settled into the passenger seat, finding it comfier than being pressed against the steering wheel, and draped a picnic blanket over himself, finding it in himself to try and get some sleep.
Perhaps this time, when he woke up, he'd be back in bed at home.
—
"I was thinking last night," Eddie said shortly after they'd woken up and brushed their teeth. They were sat on a bench eating breakfast. The wind whistled through the trees, the plants being the only living things other than them that were left.
"Dangerous," Buck joked.
"Shut up," Eddie said lightly. "I just think we've been travelling for days now and there's nothing and no one. Maybe we should rest."
Buck bristled. "You mean stop looking?"
"No," Eddie said quickly. "I don't mean that. I just mean maybe we deserve a break."
Buck shifted. "I get what you're saying but shouldn't we be trying to figure out what's happened?"
"How can we do that better in a car than we can here?" Eddie argued. "Maybe there'll be some clues around here somewhere."
Buck hesitated.
"I just think moving around so much isn't doing us any good," Eddie persisted.
"I get what you're saying," Buck reluctantly agreed. "So long as we don't give up."
"We won't," Eddie promised. He finished his sandwich and set the packaging to the side. "Why don't we try and find a police station? Maybe they'll have some clues about what's happened. I'll go get the map."
He got up, grabbing the packaging and tossing it in the bin on the way back to the car. It was a short distance and he reached it soon enough, opening the glove compartment and grabbing the map out.
Something was wrong.
Eddie frowned, squinting at the middle of North America. Some parts were missing. It wasn't just the words missing but entire parts of the map were blank.
"Buck!" he called. "Did you erase some of the map?"
Even as he said it, he knew it was preposterous. For starters, there were no eraser lines. Secondly, why would Buck draw on their only map?
Buck jogged over, confusion written across his face. "What do you mean?"
Eddie's finger was starting to tremble as he pointed to the blank part of the map. "It's gone. Buck, it's disappeared."
Buck let out a wavering breath. "It can't… It can't have just disappeared."
Eddie looked at him. "You mean like how all the people in the world can't have just disappeared?"
"Fuck." Buck inhaled raggedly. "No, no, no. Okay, it's fine. We can go to where the blank parts are and we can see that it's still there."
Eddie's heart was thudding against his ribcage. "And if it's not?"
"Is home still there?" Buck asked, eyes flitting across the map. Eddie's eyes snapped to Los Angeles.
"Yeah," he said. "But only just."
"We can't…" Buck said. "It can't just be gone. It's land. It's right there."
Eddie might have been inclined to agree once but, after everything, he wasn't so sure. "I don't fancy finding out."
"If there's no land anymore, then how long is there still an us?" Buck asked quietly.
Eddie shook his head. "We're not thinking about that right now."
"We have to think about it at some point."
"Not now, though. Hopefully not ever."
"Eddie, if this is it—"
"It's not," Eddie bit harshly. "We're not doing deathbed confessions. I think we should keep driving."
Buck frowned. "But you said—"
"I know. But I think we should be getting as far away from that missing stuff as possible. We can go to Canada."
"And when we run out of Canada?"
Eddie grimaced. "We'll deal with it when we get there. Come on."
His tone brokered no room for argument and Buck seemed every bit as distraught as he was so they got in the car, silently agreeing that Eddie would drive.
They were quiet for a while until neither of them could stand being alone with their thoughts any longer.
"Can you talk?" Eddie asked.
"About what?"
"Anything."
"Okay," Buck said. "Platypus. They're venomous, did you know that?"
Eddie shook his head.
"Well, they are," Buck continued, stumbling a little over his words. "They lay eggs too, but they're mammals. They're freaks of nature." He chuckled unconvincingly lightheartedly. "They have beaks like ducks and tails like beavers and they seem to fit basically no boxes and every box at the same time."
"You know a lot about platypuses," Eddie remarked.
Buck shrugged. "Too much time and unrestricted access to Google will do that to you. I've always wanted to see one. That and a cassowary."
"A what?"
"They're birds. Basically living dinosaurs. They're blue."
Eddie found Buck's rambling strangely calming. "I didn't know birds could be blue."
"Well, flamingos are pink," Buck said. "So why shouldn't birds be blue?"
"Good point."
They lapsed into a quietness.
"Did you ever want kids?" Buck asked, seemingly out of nowhere. "I always did. Have them running around. Maybe with a bigger age gap so they could be more patient with each other."
Eddie hummed. "Maybe, somewhere in the distant future. My sisters are enough for me right now."
"Yeah," Buck said. "I reckon you'd be a great dad."
Eddie laughed. "Yeah, I'm not so sure."
"I am," Buck said firmly. "You would be."
Eddie glanced at him with a small smile. "You would be too."
"Thanks. What do you reckon you'd call them? The kids?"
Eddie shrugged. "Never really thought about it. I've… I've always thought Christopher was a good name though."
"I like Christopher," Buck said. "He's the patron saint of travellers."
"A bit like us. Go on then. What would you call a kid?"
Buck thought for a minute. "Theodore. Theo, for short."
Eddie smiled. "That's a good name. I like it. Patron saint of soldiers."
"They would be best friends," Buck added. "Obviously."
"Christopher would be older," Eddie said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Just a feeling."
Eddie wasn't sure when this had shifted from talking about their individual future kids to talking about their future kids but he felt that it had shifted anyway and he thought that he might as well leap all the way in.
"They'd take after you," he said, heart in his throat.
Buck barely paused. "No, they'd look like they did on the surface but they'd have you in them too. They'd be a mix of both of us."
Eddie swallowed. "That would be nice."
Buck huffed a kind laugh. "Don't go getting emotional."
"I'm not," Eddie lied. "I'm just imagining it."
"Liar," Buck said gently. "They'd look like me though, even though Christopher would have your genes."
"Of course," Eddie said. "Your genetics would be there through osmosis."
"Of course," Buck echoed, grinning. "But everyone would know they were yours too because they'd be Diazes."
"Would you be a Diaz?" Eddie asked, faking casualness.
"Would you like that?" Buck asked teasingly. "Me having your name?"
Eddie internally scolded his racing heart. "Maybe."
"I'd like it," Buck said, the teasing edge softening. "Buck Buckley is a stupid name anyway."
"Is that your name?" Eddie said incredulously.
"No!" Buck cackled. "God, did I never tell you? It's Evan. My first name is Evan. Buck comes from my surname."
"Evan." Eddie tested the name on his tongue. "I like it."
Buck hummed. "I do too but it's not very me. Buck suits me more."
Eddie had to agree. "You do look like a Buck. My full name's Edmundo."
"Edmundo?" Buck snorted. "I assumed it was Eduardo."
"Everyone does."
"Can you pull over, Edmundo?" Buck asked, his smile wide and the laughter still in his voice.
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to die if we just described our imaginary kids and you don't kiss me."
Eddie slammed on the breaks, making Buck burst out laughing even harder than before. Eddie found himself beaming, tearing off his seatbelt and launching himself across the car, the gear selector digging into his stomach almost painfully and causing him to have to forgo his eagerness for the sake of practicality and move around it, clambering over the top of it and ending up sat in Buck's lap.
Buck was laughing his head off. Through gasping breaths he said, "I was thinking we could do this outside the car."
Eddie shook his head vigorously. "Too time consuming."
"And that wasn't?"
"Shut up," Eddie said.
Their kiss was barely a kiss due to how widely they were both grinning. Eddie cupped Buck's face, thumb stroking along his cheekbones. Buck's hands were on Eddie's hips, dipping under his shirt and touching his skin. Eddie grinned wider still, sure that his face was about to go numb and his smile would drop off from sheer joy.
Eddie's smile started to fade, not from lack of happiness, as he focused more on actually kissing Buck, on the feeling of their lips colliding, on the sensation of their torsos pressed together.
Buck seemed to sense the change and kissed Eddie with everything he had, grip almost bruising on Eddie's hips. Eddie pressed him further back into the passenger's seat, grasping at Buck's face and tangling a hand in his hair and drawing him closer and closer and closer.
It wasn't enough and it was overwhelming Eddie.
They kissed for a long time, just like that, until Eddie's limbs started to cramp and Buck started to get pins and needles and they had to stumble out of the car and into the backseat to get more comfortable. Eddie leaned against the door and Buck slumped against him, head resting on his shoulder. Eddie ran his hands through Buck's hair, pressing kisses to his head.
"This is crazy," Buck mumbled. "I've known you for four days and I'm already…"
"Already what?"
"You know what."
Eddie hummed. "Yeah, it is kind of crazy but this whole situation is insane."
"True," Buck admitted, nestling further into Eddie's shoulder. "I don't want to die. Not now."
Eddie sucked in a breath. "Me neither. I don't want to lose you, or anyone."
"I have so much I want to do. There's so much I want you to be able to do."
Eddie felt the tears gathering. "I know. Me too."
Buck sniffed. "I meant it when I said I'm glad it's you."
"I meant it too," Eddie said, leaving a lingering kiss to Buck's forehead. "It's weird but I'm still happier than I've been in a very long time, despite everything."
"Same." Buck sighed, snuggling closer still. "I'm going to have a nap. Wake me up in half an hour."
"Okay," Eddie said, kissing Buck's head one more time before dozing off too.
—
Eddie woke up warm and feeling safe. Buck had fallen asleep too, quietly snoring into Eddie's shoulder, one arm slung around Eddie's waist. Eddie smiled, gently shaking him.
"Buck," he murmured.
"What?" Buck grumbled, still half asleep. "Ow, my neck hurts."
Eddie chuckled. "You slept in a funny position."
"Worth it," Buck said, yawning and stretching. "What time is it?"
Eddie checked his watch. "It's been a few hours. We must have been tired."
"Yeah." Buck sighed, moving his head and kissing Eddie briefly. Eddie drew him back in for a longer kiss and Buck smiled into it. "Don't distract me. We've got to get moving."
Eddie groaned. "Fine."
He opened the car door and they both got out. Eddie looked around with bleary eyes and froze.
"What?" Buck asked before he saw it too and stiffened.
It was there.
The nothingness was there.
It was impossible to describe because they couldn't see it. It was the same as seeing with no eyes or seeing whilst asleep: it didn't exist. There was just nothing.
"Get in the car," Eddie choked out.
"Eddie—"
"Get in the car!"
They crammed themselves into the car and it shot off, the accelerator steadily climbing higher and higher as they raced to get away.
It was creeping up behind them, faster than they could ever be but infinitely sluggish at the same time. It was only a matter of time. They would need to stop, they would need to rest, and it would catch up. Eddie knew this.
Buck knew it too.
"Eddie." He sobbed.
"No," Eddie replied, heaving breaths coming out of him. "No, we need more time."
"We don't have more time. We don't… This is it."
No. No, not yet. Not yet.
"I'm not ready," Eddie said, voice rising slowly until he was shouting. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready! It's not fair!"
"Stop the car." Buck hiccuped. "Eddie, please stop the car. There's no point."
Eddie slowed the car down to a halt and turned around, watching as the nothingness approached.
"Don't look at that," Buck begged, grabbing Eddie's face. "Look at me. Look at me, Eddie."
Eddie was helpless. He looked at Buck's beautiful, heartbroken face.
"I love you," Buck said desperately. "I love you, okay? No matter what. I love you."
Eddie shook his head. They had to have more time.
"I love you," Buck pleaded as the nothingness crept through the car, eating away the side of Buck's face. "I love you, Eddie."
And then he was gone.
And so was everything.
—
A steady beeping hit Eddie's ears like a jackhammer to his skull. He groaned, rolling over and trying to reach up to cover them.
"Eddie!" he heard his mother gasp. "Oh, don't move, sweetheart. Ramon, go get someone."
Eddie tore his eyes open.
"Buck," he rasped, throat drier than a desert. It hurt to speak, the name scratching against his tongue.
"Honey, it's okay," his mom said, her hand coming to cup his face, stroking back his hair. "How do you feel?"
"Buck," Eddie pleaded, shaking.
"What's a Buck?" his mom asked. "Honey, do you know what happened?"
Eddie's vision was swimming but starting to come into focus. He pried his eyes further open, forcing them to land on his mother's distraught face.
"Buck," he said. It was the only thing he knew how to say other than, "Evan."
"Evan?" his mom said. "The… That boy. The one you were in the car with?"
"Evan," Eddie croaked again.
His dad came rushing in, followed by someone in a white coat. A doctor.
"Eddie," his dad said, weeping. "How are you?"
"He's asking for that boy," his mom said.
"Eddie, do you remember what happened?" the doctor asked, stepping in. "With Evan Buckley?"
"Buck."
"You were in a car accident," the doctor continued. "You've been very lucky to survive. We had to place you in a medically induced coma for three days. It might be a bit disorientating at first but—"
"Buck." Eddie was sobbing. "I need…" He coughed violently, a horrible, hacking sound. "Evan."
"Can we get him to Evan?" his dad asked. "Would that make him feel better?"
The doctor hesitated. "I'm not sure. Mr. Buckley is—"
"Please," Eddie's mom said. "Just help him."
The doctor nodded. "I'll get a wheelchair."
Getting into the wheelchair was excruciatingly painful. Every fibre of Eddie's being ached and stung. He did it anyway, for Buck.
They pushed him down a corridor, long enough for Eddie to gather he was in hospital. When they reached Buck's room, Eddie could have collapsed with relief.
Buck was lying on the bed, eyes shut, heart monitor steadily beeping.
He looked like he was frowning, even in sleep. Eddie let out a broken noise, reaching for him.
The second his bruised and bandaged hands landed on Buck's face, Buck's eyes opened.
For a horrible moment, he looked blankly at Eddie and Eddie thought he'd got it all wrong.
It was just a fantasy, a dream. Buck had never been there and Eddie had never been there either. They'd never fallen in love, never kissed, never talked about their future. They'd barely even met.
"Eddie?"
And then Eddie heard the infliction in Buck's voice and saw his eyes fill with relief and his shattered heart bandaged itself back together again.
"I love you too," Eddie gasped. "God, Buck, I love you."
He heard his parent's inhales but didn't care when Buck smiled wide. Eddie rested their foreheads together, closing his eyes and whispering "I love you" over and over again.
When Buck interrupted him, it was only to press the gentlest kiss to his lips and to say, "I love you too."