And that's why he needs something to do with his hands right now. Something to keep them from smoothing across Buck's brow or lacing their fingers together. Something to keep him from giving himself away.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," Eddie says, "in case you need something." He clears his through. "Do you need anything now?" Anything, anything. Anything at all.

"Huh-uh," Buck hums. Of course, he wouldn't say if he did need something. He hasn't taken well to all the fussing, and really, Eddie doesn't blame him. He knows how it is to not want your loved ones to see you suffering, to struggle to ask for help, to feel like you have to carry it all yourself.

"You sure? Another blanket?"

"What, you think the three and a hoodie isn't enough?" Buck says, the corner of his mouth tilting up. His eyes are still shut, his face half in shadow. He's still Buck. And--Eddie lets himself think it: He's still beautiful.

"Something to eat?" Eddie asks. If he sounds a little hoarse, hopefully Buck is too tired to notice.

Buck half-opens one eye, squinting, incredulous. "Seriously?"

Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. "Hey, just checking. Someday you will want to eat again."

"No, Eddie." Buck closes his eyes again, lets himself relax into the pillows with a sigh. "But if...if you want to sit here with me for a while, you can."

"Got nothing better to do." Even if offered the whole realm of human experience, he'd still have nothing better to do than sit here and watch Buck's chest rise and fall, watch his pulse flutter at his neck.

"Hmm. Liar."

Eddie does reach out then, but only to lay his hand over Buck's wrist, give it a squeeze. "I mean it," he says.

Buck is already most of the way to sleep, so maybe that's why he does it, why he shakes out of Eddie's grip and turns his arm over, palm up as if in invitation. Eddie stares down at it, at the lines there--One of them is the life line, right? One of them is the heart line. He wishes he could read any of it now, figure out where all of this is headed, when it'll get easier.

He slides his hand into Buck's, palm against palm, fingers threading together. Buck visibly relaxes, and something in Eddie unwinds too. Buck's still here. Buck's still Buck.