Jem walked slowly down the alley. He could feel himself running down, like a watch in need of winding. This would be his last walk, he was sure and yet, he couldn't say how he knew. He wouldn't tell Will or Tessa, they would only worry, and there was no point anymore. He was dying. Jem leaned against a dirty wall, he was weary to the bone. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, yet to sleep would be to die and he wanted to see Tessa one last time. Jem wondered if he should have taken more of the drug before he had left the institute as a cough burst from his lungs. He sucked in a breath, causing himself to cough more violently. He gasped for breath, dropping to one knee. The coughing eased some and he dragged the back of his sleeve across his mouth, grimacing at the previously white fabric. Jem struggled to his feet, determined to make it back to the Institute, and wondering if he had perhaps left it too late.
Will woke in the night, his chest burning. He ripped open his loose shirt and stared at the parabatai rune on his chest. Instead of being black as it normally was, it had faded to gray. Jem, he thought wildly, leaping from his bed. He rushed into Jem's room and finding him missing, proceeded downstairs, tearing outside. The night was cool and crisp, a slight breeze making his hair drift gently about his face. Will looked around worriedly, Jem had probably taken his usual route, it was probably best for Will to follow it. Will took off down the street, determined to find Jem, and hoping he wasn't too late.
Jem slid to the ground, still leaning heavily on the damp walls of the shops lining the alley. Another cough wracked his slim frame, and more blood trickled down his chin. He had stopped bothering to wipe it away now, there was simply too much. Jem wheezed and rolled onto his back, gazing up at the starry sky. He coughed again, more weakly. His breaths were shallow and quick, he had given up on regulating his breathing, there was no point. He was dying, he had known it for years, suspected its coming for weeks, and felt it before he had gone on his foolish walk. His breaths grew quieter, the coughing had eased, the tightness in his chest had not. Jem tried in vain to breathe, the edges of his vision going black. A cool wind blew down the alley, flowing over his pallid face. Jem clenched his eyes shut, feeling as though his chest would explode. And then suddenly, the harsh lines in his face relaxed, his arms lay limp across his stomach and all was still.
Will knew the moment Jem ceased being. He doubled over on the street corner, retching. The ties that had held Jem to his heart had been severed, in the cruelest way possible. A great emptiness seemed to well up inside of him and the edges of his vision were tinged with darkness, as sparks flashed across his eyes. Tears flowed down his cheeks, dripped from his chin. Will straightened, aware that he was attracting curious looks from passerby. He couldn't bring himself to care.
It took Will another half hour to find Jem's body. The shell that had once been his brother in more than blood, lay in an unassuming alley. Tears were still streaming down his face, as he progressed towards Jem.
"James," he whispered, dropping to a crouch beside his body. His breath hitched in his throat, choking him. Will touched the side of Jem's face gently. "Ave Atque Vale Jem. Hail and farewell brother." The words so soft as to barely be audible. Will ran a hand over Jem's silvery hair, his tears falling on Jem's face, as he realized that he would never see the silver of Jem's eyes again, never see his quirky grin, hear his clear laugh. Will lifted Jem gently, Jem's head lolling against his chest. He carried Jem back to the Institute, wondering what he would do. He should probably tell Charlotte first, she could notify the proper people, then Tessa, who would be crushed. It was hard to breathe through his pain, his throat closing, eyes burning as he forced back the tears. He had known ever since he met Jem that he would die, it wasn't as if it was a shock, but it still hurt.
Will reached the Institute, his dark hair damp with sweat. He freed one of his hands to pull at the large knocker. Charlotte appeared a few moments later, still in her nightclothes. She paled visibly as she saw Will's burden. She noted his wild appearance, the tousled hair, the tearstains. "I'm sorry Will," was all she could think to say. She stood next to him and ushered him inside. Will allowed her to guide him, his heart pumping painfully in his chest. He would have liked nothing better than to have run off, sought relief in battle, but no. Jem was his responsibility right now. Will was his parabatai, he would see him through this too. Charlotte looked up at Will, his handsome face set into a blank mask, betraying none of the hurt he must be feeling. "Stay here a moment," she murmured, then fled into the recesses of the Institute, leaving Will alone once more.