Right Now

The Visitors

It's easy to fall into their usual nighttime routine. This wasn't the first time Buck made sure Christopher brushed his teeth and changed his clothes, then tucked him into bed with a kiss to the forehead. Sometimes they read a chapter of whatever book Christopher picked out, sometimes they took turns making up their own stories. But tonight, as Christopher pulls the blankets up under his chin, he doesn't reach for the book on his nightstand. It's a library copy of a 39 Clues book. He knows Eddie picked up a few in the series and was holding onto them until Christmas. He wonders if Eddie will be awake by then, and what he would do if not.

Buck forces himself to focus on this moment, this breath, and the kid in front of him. He couldn't think too far into the future. There are too many contingencies there and they had to take things one step at a time.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Christopher asks.

Buck silently curses himself. Well, he should have thought this far ahead, at least. But he hadn't. Now, he was here with no extra clothes, no toothbrush, not even deodorant. He should have stopped by his loft on the way here and picked up some stuff. His mind had been elsewhere.

"Yeah. I'll be staying here with you until your dad gets back from the hospital."

"Like a sleepover?"

Buck chuckles. "Exactly. But right now, you've gotta get some sleep. You've still got school tomorrow."

He'd gone back and forth on this, but ultimately decided that, as much as possible, Christopher needed to stay in his routine. Things were already so messed up and jumbled, having school would be something solid to keep him distracted. Something to make him feel normal, like his whole world wasn't getting turned upside down.

When he goes back out to the living room, closing the door quietly behind him, Buck takes a second to just breathe. This is the first he's been alone since his meltdown in the shower earlier and he aches for another one-- both the meltdown and the shower-- but he's exhausted. He's not sure if his body can handle either at the moment.

The extra sheets and blankets are in the linen closet across from Christopher's room and he gathers them up to dump them unceremoniously on the couch. There aren't any pillows anywhere, aside from the hard decorative throw pillows that had come with the couch. He adds a pillow to the mental list of things he needs to get from the loft tomorrow.

Outside Eddie's bedroom door, Buck pauses. He almost knocks, then rolls his eyes at that. He feels like he's intruding, but he's been here before, every room in this house, including this one. It shouldn't feel this hard.

He turns the knob.

The room is the same as he'd last seen it, minus one important centerpiece. Without Eddie, the bedroom feels haunted. The whole damn house feels that way, but it seems to be emanating from this spot.

Buck quickly crosses the room, as if to not disturb the spirits here, and pulls open a drawer, picking a T-shirt and pair of sleep shorts at random. Before he leaves, he lets his gaze fall on the bed. It's made in that messy way that Eddie always makes his bed. The blanket is pulled up, smoothed on the top, covering the way the sheet is untucked and rumpled. He grabs the pillow from near the headboard and flees.

Most of the night is spent staring at the ceiling.

He'd never felt like a guest in this house, but tonight he is only a visitor. He feels like a kid at a sleepover after all his friends have fallen asleep. It's this liminal space where nothing feels real. The shadows reach at him and the hum of electricity in the walls makes everything beyond this place seem imaginary.

He turns his head into the pillow, closing his eyes. It still smells like Eddie. It's a comfort, something he can hold onto in this dreamy haze. Not thinking, not worrying. He just lets himself enjoy it.