The day lingered, as if it never wanted to end. You woke up at an unholy hour to finish a school project. School itself was normal, as usual, but 'usual' was never even anything remotely exciting. You got home at two thirty and sit around trying and failing to code something until you get a message from one of your friends. It's Rose.

tentacleTherapist [TT] started pestering ectoBiologist[EB] at 20:26

TT: John.

TT: I'm sorry, this can't wait, even if you aren't at your computer I have to tell you.

EB: hi rose!

EB: what's up, you seen kind of worried :/

TT: Oh thank goodness you are here.

TT: It would have been extraordinarily harder to process if you had seen this hours later.

EB: rose, you're scaring me!

EB: what's wrong?

TT: It's Dave.

TT: His Bro pestered me because he believed that I would be able to explain it better you and Jade.

TT: John, I am extremely sorry, I know you and he were close,

EB: oh for fucks sake rose what happened?!

TT: He was in a car crash. They're not sure if he will live, he's in intensive care but...

EB: ...

TT: John, listen if you want to talk about it I'm here.

TT: He's too hurt to actually pester or talk to anyone over a phone.

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 20:31

TT: I'll stick around then.

No. No! This can't be happening. NO! You were just going to visit him for the first time over the summer that was only weeks away. Oh God... he's your best friend. He's okay, he has to be. Deep in your mind you pray to whatever god is listening that he will be okay. This is not something you decide you want to talk to anyone about so you close pesterchum and whatever fucked up code you were working on before.

You are still left staring at your computer screen until you finally snap out of it enough to cry.

You don't want to sleep. They have you hooked up to beeping machines and stands, but that is better than going to sleep and having two particular things happen. Dream of horrible things, crash and previous experiences combined, and the possibility of not waking up. The only thing you want to do right now is talk to your friends but your left hand is too fucked up and your right arm is broken. This is by far the suckiest thing that has ever happened in your life. Possibly worse than all of the other sucky things combined.

But your friends. Jade, the adorable gardener girl that puts up and even plays along with your weird ass masked personality. Rose, well she's like your adopted sister. Even though she picks you apart, it's still fun to converse with her. And John. Oh God, John. He was the first person that made you realize that you might be gay. And still the person you have had a crush on for ages. And fuck, he still doesn't know. You were going to tell him during the visit you had planned over the summer. Even if you do live, (which the doctors say is not likely, and even if you did you would have a bit of brain damage) that would be one hella uneventful trip.

Fuck. Your eyes are starting to droop and it sucks. Everything. The whole fucking universe. Ha. If you do die in your sleep then that would be some melodramatic last thoughts.

You dream of driving and crashing over and over until your mind and body can't take it anymore. The beeping on the machines goes flat.

But of course you don't know that. You are still unconscious. But you wake up. Not in a the hospital bed, but what must still be in a dream. You wake up in your bed, in your room. There are crows at your window and there is something strange about your collection of dead things. All of the things in jars or stuff frozen in amber are moving. The creepy crawlies go back to crawling and the slimy frogs go back to croaking. Okay. That doesn't freak you out or anything. Confused, you check your computer. No new messages. Too bored to draw, you head out into your hallway. Somehow it's different. Hazier. Pushing that fact aside, you head into the kitchen. You notice that you haven't seen Bro around. Also the background noise that is usually always there in the small apartment in Houston is gone. The whole place is eerily silent. Not hungry either, or looking to watch tv, you go back into your room.

Except that it isn't your room anymore.

You had tried to keep yourself awake, but the whole day weighed down on you and your crying eyes. You know that he wasn't actually dead, and just hurt... Really badly... But anyway, you were afraid of what might happen when you fell asleep. What news could be waiting when you woke up.

But it's not waking up that scares you anymore. The dream starts out pretty normal, you just seem to be in your room. Boring dream, but you are fine with it until someone walks through your bedroom door. Taller than you, platinum-blond hair and shades that are so dark you wouldn't be able to see through them if you were inches away. He looks familiar... Shit, that's Dave. Weird dream, considering how lifelike he was for never having seen him in real life anyway. What scares you is how he literally goes to hug you and it feels so real. Painfully so. And then you remember. You hug him back when you remember what Rose had told you. Some fucked up way to deal with a friend being in the hospital, but you will take what you can get.

So you hug him. This obviously fake version of your best bro who you aren't even sure what feelings you have in store for. You hold on like he's the last solid thing in the universe because in this place, in your mind, he is.

He hugs you back.

(Sorry Fanfiction will not format right for me right now. :/