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Eddie Diaz is having a terrible day. He was always going to. In the same way the sun will always set and the moon will take its place, just shy of 31 years after he enters the world, Eddie Diaz will have a very terrible Thursday.
He’s known it, we’ve known it, you, since just now, also know it. Welcome. I hope you enjoy cruel and unusual twists of fate — it’s kind of our whole schtick around here.
Look, to get to the point, Eddie’s having a bad, no good, terrible day, no matter which way you slice and dice it.
It’s a cruel, twisted joke from the universe, really, but it’s just the way it is. Everyone’s born with a date on their ribs — they call it their Mark Day (cute) — and on that day, it’s actually very simple, the destined love of your life and the other half of your soul ceases to join you in the land of the living. Fun, right?
No, Eddie doesn’t think so either. But that’s probably because today is his Mark Day, and most people are a bit crabby on their Mark Day. We try not to hold it against them.
Really, Eddie is one of the lucky ones. Or, he thinks he is, anyway. You see, for most, it’s the day they find out their soulmate isn’t their soulmate after all. Awkward. The blow of that is softened by the fact that their loved one is still breathing (yay!), so it could be worse.
For others, it’s confirmation that they’d found the great love of their life. How’s that for good news and bad news? Great news: you’ve experienced a soulmate bond! A relative rarity in the modern day world. Bad news: they’re dead :(
We’re aware, okay! Cruel and twisted.
For some, like Eddie, it’s a final slamming shut of a door they’d long given up on. Time’s up. The great big love of your life isn’t yours to have, settle for something else and ignore the date stamped on your ribs for the rest of your life. Wonder, sometimes, if you want to, about what you missed. Who they were. Scroll the obituaries for that day and look at their faces and wonder which one was supposed to be yours. Be grateful to have dodged an awkward bullet, or a soul-crushing one, or just a regular one, if you’re the soulmate.
Anyway, remember how we said cruel and unusual was kinda our whole schtick around here? Yeah. Eddie Diaz is having a terrible day and it’s about to get even worse.
Eddie is having a terrible day. His alarm didn’t go off, Chris couldn’t find his glasses, they were late to school drop-off and to work, and a call came in right as he finally stumbled through the doors of the station, leaving him coffee-less, and essentially stripping in the middle of the firehouse. He’d managed, somehow, to at least be wearing his uniform by the time he clambered into the engine. He wouldn’t pass any inspections, but it was on.
He didn’t notice until they got to the scene and he’d been seen by no less than 40 people that he’d mismatched his buttons in a wonky and creative new way. Wonderful.
The day continues a bit like that. He’s on-edge, jumpy, and scattered. He’s not even thinking about it — not really, but it’s there — an undercurrent buzzing beneath his skin.
He didn’t tell anyone what day it is, he doesn’t want it to be a thing , but he’s pretty sure Buck put it in his calendar or something because he’s looking at him like a sad, pitying puppy every time he thinks he’s not looking. He does bring him a coffee, though, so he ignores the sad puppy looks.
It’s fine, really. It’s not like he’s even going to notice that it’s happened. It’s just a regular soulmate-less day, like every other day. It’s not like it can be worse than watching the mother of his child bleed out in the streets. Silver linings!
So, really, it’s a perfectly fine, somewhat scattered, normal day of minimal importance.
He’s completely convinced of that all day and most of the night, right up until 300 million volts of lightning catapults him violently through the air.
Well, fuck, that’s an insane coincidence, Eddie thinks just moments before he hits the ground.
Winded. Blinding. Breathless. Buck.
He knows, before he even sees him, before Hen or Chim or the machines confirm it, he knows that Buck’s heart isn’t beating.
He knows it as he tries to pull him up, he knows it as he lowers him down, he knows it as he scrambles down the ladder just in time to see them load Buck’s lifeless body into the back of the ambulance, and he knows it the whole drive to the hospital.
It’s all he can think about. Nothing else matters. Not the speed limit, not the fire they left behind, not their protocol, not the date, just Buck, dead, right behind him.
It honest to god doesn’t even cross his mind.
It’s not until he watches Buck’s mark, striped with the lightning’s scar, convulse beneath his hands, that he remembers what day it is.
It’s a cruel fucking coincidence, he thinks again.
“Clear!”
Buck’s chest heaves with the defibrillator. The date on his ribs screams at him, like somewhere, in the back of his mind, the date that Buck’s soulmate died eight years ago is supposed to mean something.
Eddie knows, seconds before Chimney says it - -
“We’ve got a pulse!”
Alright, here’s the deal:
- Buck is technically alive, but he’s in a coma, and it’s not looking good
- It’s probably just a coincidence that Buck got hit by lightning on Eddie’s Mark Day
- He’s just looking up something in his medical records really quickly just to see something but really it’s probably just a coincidence
He’s huddled in a corner of the hospital waiting room, hunting through his discharge papers and medical records from the Army, just to completely rule it out. Just so he can stop thinking about it. It’s just that the date on Buck’s ribs is roughly three months before he got home from Afghanistan — probably around the time he was being shot out of the sky, and, again, probably just a coincidence. He’s also pretty sure he didn’t die, since, y’know, he’s alive.
Anyway, he’s scrolling through his medical records when he finally comes across the incident he’s looking for. Bile rises up his throat at the date.
Date of admission: July 17, 2015.
Okay. Alright, so that’s the same date that’s on Buck’s ribs, but, still, he’s alive. It’s just another cruel and unusual coincidence. He keeps scrolling through the field notes, the medical notes, all of it, until he finds one singular line that turns his body to ice:
Code blue in transit. Flatline approx 2 min. Pt resuscitated and stabilized en route.
Who the fuck doesn’t mention to someone that they literally died for two entire minutes? It feels like important information to have, really. If he was freaking out more, he’d probably call someone to complain about it, but he’s not freaking out. Eddie’s not even spiraling! He’s not! Buck is almost definitely his soulmate, and he’s probably never going to wake up, and he’s also a man, which, in retrospect, Eddie’s realizing he’s probably pretty gay, but that doesn’t matter, because Buck is his soulmate and he died before they could figure it out, so Eddie is going to spend the rest of his life alone and void of joy and haunted by what could have been.
Eddie continues to be completely fine and normal, Buck continues to be in a coma, and the universe continues to fuck them both up the ass.
He doesn’t mention it to anyone. Not least because he’s not sure he could get the words out of his throat if he tried. He lives at Buck’s bedside. Watches Christopher demand he wake up. Watches Buck lay there lifeless anyway.
That, more than anything else, destroys him, because Buck would do anything for Christopher. He’d come back from the dead for him, if he could, and he hasn’t. Ergo, Eddie’s logic concludes, he’s not going to.
And he doesn’t. He doesn’t for days, until Maddie, solemn, tells them they’re taking his breathing tubes out tomorrow. If he doesn't breathe on his own, time’s up. That’s it.
It feels like they’re already out of time, but, still, somehow, Eddie’s running out of it. He has to do it. He can’t let him go without him knowing.
He waits, silent, while everyone has their turn — urging him to wake up, saying goodbye, begging, praying. He waits until it’s just Maddie, hollow-eyed and pale, busying herself around his hospital room.
He thinks Buck wouldn’t mind Maddie knowing. He thinks he’d have been excited to tell her.
He settles into the chair beside his bed and grasps his hand with his own. “Hey, Buck. It’s me,” he starts, clearing his throat. “You want to hear something ridiculous? I think you might be my soulmate,” he laughs bitterly. Maddie drops something on the floor behind him. “You had to make my Mark Day all about you, huh?”
Buck doesn’t open his eyes like the tiny shred of hope still alive inside him thought he might. He just lies there — tubes and machines breathing for him.
“Uh. I know we didn’t get to - - we didn’t know we were soulmates, but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Maybe we would’ve figured it out, with a little more time, I don’t know. But I don’t regret any of it. Knowing you, loving you, it’s been the honor of my life, Evan Buckley,” he sniffs. He hears Maddie choke behind him. “I thought my Mark Day wouldn’t be so bad, you know, because I wasn’t really going to lose anything tangible.” He chuckles. It’s dark, bitter. “But I lost everything,” he chokes. “You were - - you were everything. You and Chris. You guys are my whole world, and I’m sorry I didn’t see that in time. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more, how much you mean to me.” He sniffs, wiping at the tears streaming down his face with the hand not holding Buck’s. He turns his head and finds Maddie’s devastated eyes, face wet with tears. He offers her a sad smile, and turns back to Buck. “I love you,” he says, squeezing his hand. “And if you have to go, that’s okay. But if you can stay, if you can come back to me, then I need you to come back. We need you here, okay?” He begs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Buck’s hand where it’s entwined with his. Even behind the sterile scents of hospital, he still smells like Buck.
He gasps in a breath, and Maddie is there, a hand squeezing his shoulder. Eddie, for the first time, lets himself feel it. He doesn’t even try to stop it as he falls apart.
Buck wakes up.
No one expects it to happen — not even the doctors, not even Eddie, really, if he’s being honest — but Buck wakes up.
Eddie’s not there when it happens. He gets a phone call. His knees give out. He packs Christopher in the car and they’re at the hospital in record time. Everyone’s there, actually, because Buck’s alive . He’s sitting up, and he’s smiling, he’s laughing, he’s hugging Chris because he came back to him. Because he’s alive. The room is crowded, and Buck just woke up, so he doesn’t mention it. He catches Maddie watching him, but she doesn’t mention it either. She hugs him extra tight when visiting hours are over, because he’s alive. Buck’s alive.
He visits Buck the next day, Chris in toe, as soon as visiting hours begin. Chris asks a million questions about getting struck by lightning and being in a coma — what it was like, what he remembers, if he heard Chris talking to him while he was asleep. Buck assures Chris he did hear him, that he’d recognize his voice anywhere, that he was even in his coma dream. Chris is pleased with that, and Eddie is frozen where he’s sitting. If he heard Chris, he probably heard him, too. He probably already knows. Is he waiting for Eddie to mention it? Is he pointedly ignoring it? Is he waiting for it to be just the two of them? Eddie’s mind spirals with possibilities. Buck doesn’t mention it, so neither does Eddie.
Buck gets discharged, and they don’t talk about it. Eddie should probably bring it up, but it never seems like the right time. Buck doesn’t bring it up either.
Maddie sets up a rigorous visiting schedule and Eddie both doesn’t visit and doesn’t talk to him about it. Buck has enough on his plate. He’s healing.
Eddie is not scared, he’s just being considerate. He’s being polite.
And then Buck knocks on his front door and Eddie thinks about mentioning it, he’s hyping himself up to mention it, and Buck falls asleep on his couch.
Eddie downs two beers while he thinks about the fact that Buck, most likely, knows that Eddie is his soulmate and is pretending he doesn’t. Even if he hadn’t heard him, Buck’s smart. He notices these things. He’d have put two and two together faster than Eddie did. So, Buck probably knows and is pretending he doesn’t. Eddie would get it, really he would. He’d be pissed too if he were as bright and good as Buck, and all the universe thought he deserved was a single dad barely holding it together who didn’t even know he was gay until the universe literally smacked him over the head with a bolt of lightning.
He knows they have to talk about it. He will bring it up. Maybe when he wakes up from his couch nap.
“Hey, what do you remember about getting shot?” Buck asks, mere moments after wandering into the kitchen after his couch nap, and Eddie has the distinct urge to flee his own house.
“What - - why?” Eddie frowns. He’s onto him. He knows. They’re gonna have to talk about it.
Buck cocks his head at him.
“I just died,” Buck frowns.
“Yeah, I know, I was there.”
“Sorry,” Buck cringes. “Sorry, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Why did you?” Eddie asks. He needs to know if he knows. He needs to know what he knows. If he’s asking about when Eddie got shot, he probably knows all of it.
“I just thought - - I don’t know. It’s stupid,” Buck sighs. “I don’t want to upset you if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Fuck. He totally knows.
“Talk about what?” Eddie asks, going for casual.
“I died,” Buck repeats slowly. “You almost died. It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”
“I guess. Sure,” Eddie shrugs, casually. Buck absolutely knows. He’s done the math. “Lots of people die.”
“Right. But most of them don’t come back,” Buck continues. “I don’t know what to do with it. How to process it.”
“That you came back? Or the… the other thing?” Eddie dares to ask.
“What other thing?”
“The other thing you’re talking about.”
“What?” Buck frowns.
“What?” Eddie agrees.
“Eddie, my brain just got scrambled by lightning, man. Give me a hint here.”
“Wait, what were you talking about?”
“I’m talking about dying, and then not being dead. I know you didn’t die, but you almost did, right? With the sniper? I was just wondering what you remember. How you felt.”
Oh. The sniper! He forgot about the sniper! Okay, Buck is asking about the sniper, not Afghanistan. Maybe Buck only has half of the information. Maybe he’s only done half the math.
“Oh. The sniper. Right.”
“But it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it,” Buck reiterates.
“No, I - - there’s just nothing to talk about. I fell, I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t,” Eddie offers honestly. He’s like, pretty sure he really didn’t die that time, but it turns out you can never be sure. “Why? What do you…do you remember something?” He asks, extremely subtly.
“Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “I remember all of it, I think.”
“You do?” Eddie blinks.
“It was… super vivid. It felt real. It’s kind of hard to forget.”
“So you…do remember?” Eddie clarifies. He’s getting whiplash.
“...yes?”
“And what do you, uh, think about that?”
Buck frowns at him. “I mean…it was weird.”
“Right. Yeah, Eddie nods. He doesn’t even flinch. “It’s kinda weird.”
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it, you know?” Buck sighs.
“Um. Nothing, if you don’t want to,” Eddie offers. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”
“Right, but shouldn't it?” Buck frowns. “Shouldn’t it mean something? A second chance?”
“I - - yeah. If you want it to.” He adjusts the silver platter he’s holding his heart out on. It’s getting heavy.
“I don’t know what I want, that’s the problem,” Buck groans. “I got this second chance, I don’t want to waste it.”
Eddie flinches. The platter drops and smashes. “I don’t want that either. You deserve to have everything you want, Buck. Whatever that is. Even if it’s not - - whatever that is.”
Buck nods, like that makes sense. “Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie sniffs. “You’re my best friend,” he assures him. “No matter what.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, man,” Buck chuckles.
Eddie swallows over the shards of glass in his throat and picks his heart up off the floor.
Buck comes back to work and they don’t talk about it. Buck gets lightning math powers and they don’t talk about it. He takes him on a not-a-date poker date and they don’t talk about it. Eddie’s tia sends him on dates he does not want to go on, which they do talk about, but they don’t talk about it. Buck, notably, seems completely fine with the prospect of Eddie going on dates. He encourages it, even. He doesn’t know how to tell Pepa or Buck that he’s not looking for a wife — he could truly not be less interested.
Then, because the universe is cruel and twisted, a car crashes through a funeral and Buck meets a death lady and he goes on a date with death. Well, he goes on a date with the death lady, but to Eddie, it feels like death.
And Eddie tries, he really tries to be supportive. He tries to want the best for Buck, even if it’s not him, but then Buck opens his stupid, beautiful mouth while they’re standing in the middle of a goddamn cemetery and says:
“There’s something different about her. I feel like she sees me. You know? Like she really sees me for who I am and what I’ve been through. I think she might even see more in me than I see in myself.”
And Eddie just kind of loses it.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie snaps. “That’s bullshit, Buck.”
“What?” Buck laughs, bewildered.
“You met her, what? Twice? And she ‘knows’ you? ‘ Sees’ you?” Eddie scoffs, air quotes and everything. “She’s obsessed with death and you died . That’s what she sees. I see you.”
“Woah, okay,” Buck frowns. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you don’t. You’re my best friend, Eddie.”
Eddie scoffs. “Yeah. I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s fine. I told you, whatever you wanted to do, it’s fine. You deserve to be happy.”
Buck looks at him, really looks at him. Assess him, like he’s a math problem even his new lightning brain can’t solve.
“You’ve been weird since I woke up, man,” he says eventually. “What’s going on with you?”
“Really?” Eddie laughs. “No guesses?”
Buck, to his credit, looks utterly perplexed. He cocks his head, clearly scanning over what he’s missed, eyes scanning over every inch of Eddie and, finally, landing on his ribs. Buck’s eyes widen.
“Your Mark Day,” he breathes. “Eddie, I completely forgot.”
Eddie frowns at him. How the fuck do you forget that your best friend is secretly your soulmate, deathbed confession and all.
“I mean, I remembered,” Buck continues. “That day. Actually, you know, right before it hit me, it got all staticy, and I thought, “oh shit, Eddie’s about to have a really bad day”. It’s the last thing I remember thinking. That I wouldn’t even be there to make sure you’re okay.”
“But you are,” Eddie says, because he is. He has to keep reminding himself. “You woke up.”
“Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “How’s that for a consolation prize?”
Eddie blinks. “What do you mean?”
“Sorry,” Buck shifts awkwardly. “I shouldn’t have - - I didn’t mean to joke about it.”
“About what?”
“Your - - your Mark Day,” Buck clarifies, like this conversation makes any sense. “I’m sure you would have rathered your soulmate come back from the dead, but you’re stuck with me instead.”
“What?” Eddie croaks.
Oh no. Oh no. Buck does not know. Buck does not know and Eddie is an idiot.
““I - - that’s the dream, right?” Buck shrugs. “Meeting your soulmate. Getting time.”
“Buck. Are you serious?” Eddie begs. “Are you being serious right now?”
Buck frowns at him, confused.
“June 17th 2015,” Eddie breathes.
Buck’s frown deepens. His hand presses reflexively against his ribs.
Eddie taps his left shoulder, right above his healed-over bullet wound. “This is the one that got me,” he croaks. “I didn’t even know I’d coded in the field until I looked at the medical records. Isn’t that crazy?” He laughs. “I died and no one mentioned it. Just shipped me back home with a sling, a silver star, and an honorable discharge.”
Buck sucks in a breath, frozen where he’s standing across from him.
“I told you,” Eddie continues. “In the hospital. I thought you’d heard me. You heard Chris. I thought you remembered. I thought you didn’t - - ”
“I didn’t hear Chris,” Buck cuts him off. “Or, I don’t remember if I did. I mean, I think I knew he was there, but I was - - it wasn’t like that. I don’t remember people talking to me outside my dream,” he explains, eyes wide, blinking.
“Oh,” Eddie coughs. That’s embarrassing.
“It was you?” Buck breathes, pressing his fingers into his ribs, right where his mark sits. Right where Eddie has always been.
“It was me,” Eddie nods. Shaky. Terrified.
Buck lets out a bark of a breath and a laugh, his face breaking out into a disbelieving, hopeful smile.
Eddie feels it in his bones. In his soul. Eddie meets him with a cautious smile of his own, soft and small.
“It was me?” Buck whispers, eyes locked on Eddie’s.
“It was you.”
“I didn’t know,” Buck breathes, urgent. “I - - Eddie. I swear I didn’t know. You thought I knew?”
Eddie finds a very interesting patch of grass and avoids his gaze.
Buck takes a step closer. “You thought I didn’t want you?”
Eddie shrugs. “I mean, I’m not exactly a grand prize.”
Buck barks out another disbelieving laugh. He turns, looks at the graves in the graveyard. Looks at Marie’s, right in front of them. “I died,” he says. “And I’ve been trying to figure out why I got to come back. What I’m supposed to do with it,” he whispers, but he’s smiling. “It’s this. It’s you.”
Eddie’s soul itches. He swallows. “You should think about it - -”
Buck shakes his head, steps closer. “Are you - - I mean, would you even want to - -?”
“Yeah,” Eddie admits. “Yeah.”
“We should both be in the ground, and we’re not,” Buck says. “We’re alive, and we’re soulmates, and we get - - we can have this?”
YES Eddie wants to scream. Or maybe that’s his soul, it turns out it’s kind of hard to tell the difference when Buck’s around.
“What about Natalia ?” Eddie asks, only a little bit petty. “I thought she ‘ sees you’ .”
Buck cackles. “You were jealous!”
“I was not,” Eddie huffs.
“ You see me,” Buck grins, bright. Sunshine. “You’re the other half of me, Eds.”
Eddie sniffs. Shrugs. “Beat that, death lady.”
Buck giggles. “What do you think? Soulmates who cheat death together, stay together? Wanna give it a go?”
“We don’t know how long we get,” Eddie reminds him. “You might be stuck with me for a while.”
“I’m planning on it,” Buck grins. “Hey, do you think it’s bad luck to have your first kiss in a cemetery?”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. “In a weird way, death was kind of our wingman. It’d be fitting.”
Buck snaps his fingers and points. “That’s such a great point.” He steps forward, and Eddie sucks in a breath. It’s happening. Buck’s about to kiss him. His soulmate is about to kiss him. Buck looks at him, and Eddie looks back, and Buck hesitates. He breathes, runs his fingers gently over Eddie’s ribs.
“Can I see it?” He whispers.
Eddie swallows and nods. Buck, slowly, brings his hands up to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttons them one at a time. He really doesn’t have to undo all the buttons to find his mark, but he does. Eddie chuckles softly, but doesn’t stop him.
When he reaches the very last button, Buck takes in a steadying breath — Eddie can’t look away from the awe already on his face. He can’t look away as he parts the fabric, revealing Eddie’s bare chest, revealing his mark . March 6 2023. The day Buck died. The day Buck survived.
Buck runs his fingers over the bare skin, traces the outline of it. “I can’t believe I found you,” he whispers. “I used to think about you all the time, growing up. Wondered who you were, what you were doing.”
Eddie smiles. “You ever guess I was a ballroom-dancing, black-belt-holding kid from Texas?”
Buck gasps. Looks up to meet his eye. “You did ballroom dancing?”
“Was good at it, too.”
Buck grins, shakes his head, and smooths his hand along the side of Eddie’s ribs, around his back, pressing it flat against the dip of his waist, pulling him against him.
“Eddie Diaz,” he breathes. “You are better than anything I could ever imagine. And at one point I was convinced you were Keira Knightley.”
Eddie snorts. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Buck shakes his head. “You came back from the dead for me. She just looks hot as a pirate. No competition.” He thinks about it. Runs his hands over Eddie’s abs. “God, you’d look hot as a pirate.”
Eddie chuckles. “Are you done stripping me in the middle of this cemetery?”
“Marie would understand. She’d be happy for me.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. My soulmate is really hot.”
“And really patient.”
Buck smiles, guilty, like he’s been caught out. “Sorry. I’m just - - taking it in. I want to remember. I want to make it count.”
Eddie understands the impulse. “We have all the time in the world.”
“Yeah,” Buck smiles. “We do, don’t we?”
Eddie nods. Buck looks at him and his breath catches. “Did you ever think about me?”
“Sure,” he whispers. “Sometimes.”
“And? How do I measure up?”
Eddie chuckles. “You could give me a million years and a thesaurus and I’d never be able to think you up.”
Buck ducks his head, smiling. “That’s good, right?”
Eddie laughs. “Yes, Buck. You are wilder than my wildest dreams.”
Buck smiles, pleased. “And I came back from the dead for you.”
“That too,” Eddie agrees.
“That’s commitment,” Buck adds.
Eddie nods, and Buck steps closer and kisses him, finally, kisses him. He’s heard that some people say kissing their soulmate felt different, that you could feel it, and they’re right. He physically feels the other half of his soul winding around him and claiming. It feels like finding and belonging and home. It’s not sparks or butterflies, it’s relief. It’s the sigh you let out when you walk through the door after a long day and collapse on the couch. It’s a breath he’s been holding for 31 years, released. He refills his lungs with Buck, Buck, Buck.
“ Woah ,” Buck breathes when they break apart. “I didn’t know you could feel your soul like that.”
“I think yours really likes mine,” Eddie smiles. “Kept squeezing me. Tickles.”
“He’s probably been wanting to do that for years, poor little guy.”
Eddie shakes his head. He’s so impossibly, painfully, endeared by every inch of him. “Let’s go home?”
“Yeah,” Buck smiles. “Let’s go home.”
Ah, see, you thought this was going to have a sad ending, didn’t you? You’d be right to think that, it often does. Every now and then, though, every so often, two people bound together by fate and destiny just so happen to fluke the soulmate system and bag themselves a happily ever after.
Evan Buckley and Edmundo Diaz were born to love each other — two halves of a whole, walking the earth in search of the other. They’re a little greedy, actually, with the force of it all.
Eddie Diaz cheated death to find Evan Buckley in a firehouse in Los Angeles, California on a Tuesday in 2018. Five years later, on a Thursday, he’d use his hands, that weren’t meant to be here at all, to restart Evan Buckley’s heart. They don’t know this, but now you do — a little bit of Eddie’s soul would wrap its way around Evan Buckley’s unbeating heart and will it back to life. It shouldn’t have — it’s not how souls are taught to behave, but it does. Every time, in every universe.
In every single universe, for as long as time exists, Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley write the book on how to cheat the soulmate system.
It’s a lot of paperwork, actually. It’s kind of annoying.