~Author's Note~

Rated Teen for romance scenes, suggestive themes, vivid detail of injuries/medical mumbo jumbo, language and heavy, heavy angst.

Notes: Newly re-written. Takes place after the season four finale, based off the songs Back to Earth by Steve Aoki (feat. Fall Out Boy) and Mama I'm Coming Home by Ozzy Osbourne (song lyrics removed for safety). Any shows or movies mentioned I do not own (and can be promptly found on Netflix).

cracked pavement (fall into me)

"Jack, come on, stop it."

"What? I'm not doing anything."

"I'm serious. I'm trying to watch the movie."

"So am I."

Kim groaned loudly, shoving his shoulder in resentment as Jack laughed. He pulled her body closer to his, one arm carelessly thrown around her waist as his hand trailed up the bare skin of her arm. The third Chronicles of Narnia movie was playing through the television (it had been an ugly debate between Narnia and Taken 2 but in the end, Kim's favorite childhood series had won) as Jack Brewer and Kim Crawford were bunked on the former's couch.

It was a causal Sunday night, as the day had become the couple's dubbed movie night, and it was becoming way too hard of a struggle for Kim to watch the movie without Jack either tickling her side or distracting her with soft kisses to the neck.

His lips grazed her cheek, Kim rolling her eyes as she lifted a hand to swat at him hopelessly.

"Jack," her voice was aimed in a warning tone, "stop."

He smirked, pulling her closer to him. "I'm not doing anything."

Jack's parents were away for the weekend, on another of their seemingly never ending business trips, and with only a minor white lie to her parents that she was sleeping over at Grace's house for the weekend so she could catch up on what had been happening while she was gone, she had been at Jack's house for a very relaxing three day weekend.

They hadn't done anything bad of course, they had just wanted to spend time together. Kim had been gone for nearly a year in Japan (being in another continent would put strain on any relationship) and Jack had missed her, it was as simple as that.

They had spent that past Friday binge watching television shows on Netflix (which mostly consisted of The Flash, Arrow, Daredevil and That 70's Show for Jack in addition to Charmed, Pretty Little Lairs, Friends and Glee for Kim).

Saturday was more eventful in terms of physical things; as both had attempted to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies (to no success besides both being completely covered in flour after two relentless hours), then both deciding to spar for a little bit which turned into a steamy make out session after a while and which—as Kim would put it—was totally Jack's fault.

That night they had gone to their respective rooms, Jack in his and Kim in the guest bedroom, to head to bed. But three hours later Kim was still tossing and turning in the bed and decided to screw it and head into Jack's room. She had slipped under the covers next to him, the teenager drowsily with sleep as he mumbled incoherent words and just slung an arm around her, and curled close to him.

Sleep found her within five minutes.

Sunday morning she awoke to a still-snoozing Jack next to her and it had been one eventful day so far. It was now around six in the evening and after a makeshift dinner of burnt chicken nuggets and super cheesy mac and cheese they had headed into the living room to watching an abundance of movies.

So far, all movies had been Kim's choice (her fist was very convincing) and between the three romance movies and two childhood favorite movies they had watched, he was becoming bored. So, what better way to fix it than to annoy his girlfriend?

Or, that was Jack's logic at least.

Jack was sitting on the right side of the couch, leaning against the arm as Kim laid horizontally across, head resting in his lap. His one arm was resting across her lower body, hand fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Kim slapped his hand away when he tried to tickle her, huffing angrily. "Jack,"

"Kim." He cut her off before she could finish, exhaling as he reached over and grabbed the remote on the table next to them, pausing the movie.

Kim turned her head, sending him a glare as he placed the remote back on the table.

"Did you really just pause my movie?"

He chuckled, smiling down at her as his hand moved from her waist to fit through her tousled curls. "C'mon Kimmy, this is our last night together. We go back to school tomorrow." Her cheeks flushed at the nickname, she used to punch him every time the nickname left his lips but now it felt right so she didn't mind it anymore—as long as he didn't say it in public.

Kim slowly sat upright, adjusting herself so she could curl into Jack's side, her head nested on his chest. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer as she hummed in reply. "Jack, we'll still see each other every day. Stop being a drama queen."

"I am not being a drama queen." He countered defensively, Kim chortling softly.

"You are. We have three classes together and lunch, plus all of us hang out in the hallways before homeroom. Now let me finish watching my movie." Jack pretended to think for a moment, until his lips lifted into a playful smirk.

"I don't think so."

With that he wrapped his arms around Kim's waist, lifting her up and twisting her arm so that she was straddling him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Then he found himself just staring at her, lost in her beauty.

Her bright blonde hair was messy with curls that were spread wide over her shoulders and rolled down her back. Her soft brown eyes had nothing but care laced within them, with some hints of playfulness, and Jack couldn't help but allow his eyes to flicker down to her pink lips. Her cheekbones had a yellowish hue from the lone lamp that was on over by the front door, the fading light from outside the windows only causing her to stand out more. She was wearing a pink tank top that stopped a few inches below her bellybutton, allowing the tan skin underneath to be shown. A pair of Jack's old sweatpants were fitted around her lower torso and they were a few sizes too big for her but she didn't mind because they were his.

He glanced down at her hands, taking in the chipped light blue nail polish layered over her fingernails and then looked back up at her face, letting a smile grace his features.

Kim couldn't help but beam at him, and then she got lost in her own little stare.

His face was as handsome as always, with his two (perfect, as she liked to call them) moles bold on his cheeks. His eyes were a light shade of caramel, big and deep and (so) easy to get lost in. His jaw was valiant, robust in the evening shadow while the start of some stubble was decorating his chin, Kim knowing it was from him forgetting to shave that morning (they had gotten a little distracted). Jack was wearing a plain white tee-shirt with a pair of black sweatpants that had two white stripes down both sides, along with his signature beaded necklace around his neck and 'J+K' bracelet around his left wrist.

He had treasured that bracelet and as many times as Kim tried to steal it back from him so he wouldn't wear it, because it embarrassed her, thinking of her fifteen year old self and how brash he was, he wore it anyway—claiming that he loved it and always would.

"You're such a flirt Brewer," she murmured, one hand leaving his shoulder to cup his cheek.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Only for you Kimmy."

Before Kim could say a smart comment; his lips were pressing against hers softly, strong arms holding tight to her lower abdomen so that she wouldn't fall. Her shock passed quickly and she kissed back with just as much emotion, giggling against his mouth when he tried to deepen the kiss and she pulled away instead. He groaned in protest, their foreheads resting against each other.

"Dammit Kim, you really know how to ruin a moment, don't you?"

Kim smiled in fake innocence, "Well, two can play at this game you know."

Her hands moved up to card through his hair, messing up the perfect structure he had spent all morning perfecting in a matter of seconds. "Now you're messing up my hair? Harsh. It took me—"

"—hours to fix it, I know. You took longer than me in the bathroom. Are you secretly a girl?" He scoffed, pulling back so that his head rested against the back of the couch.

"I'm sure you know better than anyone that I'm not," he mumbled smugly, Kim's face turning instantly into a shade of dark red.

She punched him in the chest, Jack laughing coyly as she sighed, muttering things under her breath.

"Anyway," her voice was raised a pitch as she clumsily switched the subject, Jack watching her with amused eyes; "are your plans with Jerry still happening tomorrow?"

Jerry had got his driver's license a few weeks before, finally catching up with the three in being able to drive (as Jack, Kim and Milton had all had their licenses for at least a few months by now, with them all being eighteen) and he had asked Jack if had wanted a lift to school for Monday. Jack at agreed, if only for the reason being because of how happy Jerry seemed after the former had responded.

Jack exhaled heavily, fingers drumming on her thighs, "Yeah though I really rather drive you to school."

Kim waved a hand in dismissal, "I'll be fine. I think it will be good for him to drive you to school. You two aren't as close as you used to be, even I can see that." Jack nodded in agreement, remembering the 'olden days' with a small smile.

"I know, I know. I swear though Kim, if we end up dying by like Jerry getting distracted by a dog on the side of the street or something—"

Kim cut him off by pressing her lips against his, giving him a quick kiss before pulling back.

"You'll be fine Brewer, I promise."

He shrugged, "Well I'm just saying, if I end up dead because of him, I'm coming back to haunt his ass." Kim laughed, seeing the mischievous gleam in her boyfriend's eyes.

"Yeah, sure thing hon." Jack grinned at Kim's southern accent peeking through, knowing from years of being her best friend that it only came out when she was being overly sarcastic. He loved her for it though.

"I love you Kim, you know that right?"

"Yeah. I know. I love you too."

Their lips connected in another kiss before any other conversations could be started.

So far, so good, Jack thought fortunately as Jerry stopped at another red light, letting go of the wheel for a minute to rub at his hands. Jack looked over, sending a pointed look his friend's way. "You alright there Jer?"

Jerry placed his hands back on the wheel, not bothering to look over.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just a little nervous."

It was out of character for Jerry to be nervous and that thought alone frightened Jack a little.

When was Jerry edgy about anything? He had more confidence than Jack half the time. "There's no need to be man, driving is easy. Maybe if you didn't clutch the steering wheel so tight," Jack let his sentence trail off as Jerry took Jack's advice to heart and loosened his hold on the wheel, exhaling shakily. Jack smiled, reaching over and placing his hand over on his shoulder as a sign of reassurance. "You're doing great man, driving is one of those things that just gets easier in time."

Jerry turned his head to gaze at Jack, lips switching into a contented smile. "Thanks dude."

Jack nodded and pulled his hand back as the light turned green, Jerry pressing the gas pedal as they sped through the intersection. Kim was right about everything she had said before and though his eyes were drooping from it being seven in the early morning on a dreadful Monday, he was happy that he went through with saying yes to Jerry.

He, Jack realized, just didn't want to drive alone.

Silence followed Jerry's thank you for a few moments, Jack deciding to break it as a thought came to mind. "Hey did you see the new episode on last night?" Jerry instantly knew what show his best friend was talking about, looking over at him with a large grin that spilt gracefully across his face.

"Hell yeah dude, it was—"

"JERRY!"

"Sometimes history repeats itself but other times it changes completely and that is why—"

Taylor's history project PowerPoint presentation is cut off by the phone near the door ringing, the teacher holding up one finger as she rushes over to the machine, picking up the phone after the third ring. Kim taps her pen against the corner of her desk while the room waits for the teacher to finish the phone call up, hushed mutters falling across the small class of students. Taylor sends Kim a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look, the latter holding in a laugh and shaking her head in reply.

The two had bonded pretty well in the past two months since Kim had gotten back, the two finding solace in the other because both understood how stupid their boyfriends could be at times (Taylor was dating Jerry now, why, Kim didn't comprehend).

Right now, Kim was trying her damnedest not to laugh because Taylor had been stressing out about her presentation for an entire week and now she was being forced to stand up there longer because of the phone call.

Taylor is about to inch towards her seat and sneak away from the prying eyes of her other classmates when the teacher lets out a sudden gasp, Taylor freezing in place and the rest of the class taken over by curiously as they turn their obnoxious gazes to the teacher's turned back.

Kim rolls her eyes at the manner, her own stare falling on the two empty seats in front of her.

Jack and Jerry never showed for school that morning and it was already third block, the clock tittering towards one in the afternoon. Taylor said she had texted Jerry at least seven times with no comeback while Kim had sent two texts to Jack, both ignored. Kim was skillfully ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut, the worry clouding at the back of her mind.

She stays lost in thought until the teacher hangs up the phone, speedily scribbles out an excuse note and calls her name. "Kimberly." Kim looks up with a wince, Taylor smirking from behind where the teacher stands. "Your parents are here to pick you up, something," the teacher pauses, seemingly trying to find the right words before speaking again, "something's happened."

She sends the teacher an inquisitive look, laughing softly. "Something happened?"

None the less she slowly started to pack up her things, taking her time gathering her pens and papers. The teacher, an older woman named Miss Tip who called people by their full first names no matter what with thin brown hair and large black rimmed glasses, pursed her lips like as if she had tasted something sour.

Then her expression changed and she bit the inside of her lip for a moment before speaking again. "You," she stops, as if saying her next chosen words are a sin.

Taylor grows suspicious now as she sends Kim a what-the-hell look with a raised eyebrow. Kim stands up with her purse in hand, pushing in her chair and approaching Miss Tip's desk.

"Did my parents give a reason as to why they are picking me up?" The older woman hands her the excuse note with shaky fingers, exhaling as she leans forward to whisper something into Kim's ear.

"They're here to pick you up because your fellow classmates Jackson Brewer and Jerome Martinez were involved in a car accident."

Miss Tip doesn't say the response quietly enough though because Taylor overhears and her face pales noticeably and one of the kids near the front of the classroom is able to repeat the words to the rest of the class again before Kim can even wrap her mind around the new information.

Then the class erupts into a volcano of murmurs and whispers, gossip spreading like wildfire as Taylor looks bewildered between Kim and Miss Tip. It doesn't take a fool to see the fear in her expression. Kim can't find her voice quite yet so she simply sends a nod Miss Tips' way before walking up to Taylor and resting her hand on her arm.

"I'll text you once I find out what happened okay?" She's surprised with how steady her voice comes out because Taylor wasn't even told the information directly and she looks like she's about to pass out on the floor so Kim can only guess how she must look; very, very worse.

Taylor nods leaning forward to tug her friend into a hug, "Thank you Kim," and her voice is so shaky that Kim's astounded that she hasn't started crying yet.

The chatter in the classroom grows louder as Miss Tip desperately tries to quiet them down, Kim and Taylor pulling away from each other. Kim says one last thing before leaving, hoping her words offer some reassurance to her.

But in the end, Kim isn't sure if she's saying them to help herself or to help Taylor.

"It's alright hon. They are fine. They are strong, they'll pull through this."

Her parents fill her in on the information they have on the car ride over to Seaford Emergency, but to Kim their voices are muddled in the swamp that is her shocked mind.

Her mother fills her in on how they had gotten into the accident with a trembling voice (because she's worried too, Jack was such a sweetheart and she looked to him like the son she never had) and tells her that they were called because Jack's parents were out of town and a still-in-shock Jerry could only offer up Kim's last name as Jack's connection.

The two had gotten into the accident by Jerry not paying attention as they had crossed through a four-way-stop intersection, the teenager forgetting to stop and in return a pickup truck had rammed head-on into the passenger side of the vehicle.

Jack was in critical condition.

Her father had taken over after her mom couldn't take it anymore and had to grab some tissues from the glovebox to contain herself and blow her nose. Then her father continued to tell her that the doctors were able to stabilize Jack but only by putting him into a medically-induced coma.

The injuries he had were treacherous—his right leg was broken, left arm mangled by fire burns, some of his right ear was cut off by the metal from the cars colliding, chest riddled with lacerations and four broken ribs. The biggest issue, the injury that was putting him in the critical state of living, was the fact that one of his ribs impaled a lung which caused internal bleeding.

They performed emergency surgery and were able to set his leg, cover up his arm, patch up his ear, and fix three of his ribs. But they couldn't get the fourth rib out of his lung and as of right now, the coma was the only thing keeping him alive. It was causing his blood to move slowly enough so that not as much was leaking throughout his inner body as opposed to how much faster his death would be if he wasn't in a coma.

The hospital would keep him in the coma for as long as they could, at least until his parents got back and were able to make a decision. His brain was still running but there was only a ten percent chance of him waking up and healing properly.

From how things were looking, the doctor on the phone had told Kim's dad, Jack wasn't going to pull through.

Kim sat in mute silence the entire way to the hospital, her mother helping her out of the car once they pulled up to a parking spot. Chuck and Jill Crawford understood her fear, hell they felt her fear. They knew how much their daughter loved Jack, as a friend and as something more.

He had done everything prove himself to Chuck and Jill had always adored him. Her parents had gotten to know Jack from the nights where they allowed him to sleepover in their many years of friendship—because Jack's parents were always gone business trips since they had moved to Seaford.

When he was fifteen he was scared to be alone which was what got Kim to ask her parents to allow him to sleepover in the first place.

When he was sixteen he admitted to Kim that he was scared of the dark and that stared their tradition of him sleeping on the floor at the end of her bed in her bedroom.

When he was seventeen he grew out of his fears and figured out that walking around her house shirtless rendered her cheeks cherry red every time.

Then she had gone away for a while and Jack was stuck in his empty house again, and he had never felt lonelier.

After she had come back, their Sunday movie night custom was the only thing they could sneak past her parents.

Now he was dying, ready to leave her as alone as he once was.

Kim's snapped out of her memories when the three of them enter the buzzing hospital, Chuck guiding them to the front desk as she gets lost in her thoughts again. The nurse tells them the directions to the ICU unit waiting room and Jill takes Kim's hand with a gentle tug as they walk there numbly. The waiting room they arrive in is eerily noiseless, with three rows of small purple chairs and two coffee tables with multiple different types of magazines spread out across them.

A nurse sits behind a computer to the far left typing away and that's where her father heads while Jill guides her daughter over to take a seat. Not even a moment later, a doctor barges into the room and within minutes (that seem to tick by way too fast for Kim) he's allowing them into Jack's hospital room to see him.

Her parents allow Kim a moment to herself as they chat with his doctor outside the room, Kim exhaling once before turning the knob and walking into the room. She barely gets a glance at Jack before Jerry is scrabbling out of his seat to tug her into a tight hug.

"Kim," his voice is in an unlike-him whisper, tone broken and cracked.

Kim barely has the strength to hug back and he pulls back a moment later with somber eyes as his hands quiver on the bare skin of her arms. There's some white gauze covering his left cheek and his right arm is bandaged heavily but the thing that causes her stomach to churn is the overwhelming amount of dried blood literally covering his yellow shirt and grey jeans.

"Jerry," she mumbles, "what happened?" He shakes his head, eyes red rimmed and glassy.

"I-I looked away f-for one s-second and the next thing I knew J-Jack was yelling. T-Then all I felt was pain b-before I passed out. I'm still in s-shock, but God, girl I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

Kim simply nods, letting out an unstable breath. "Can you . . . can you give me a minute?"

Jerry bobs his head a few times, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. "Y-Yeah, yeah, yeah o-of course. I-I'll be outside." He scurries out of the room swiftly and Kim knows that Taylor will help him out of his guilt-crusade later—she just doesn't have the willpower to support him right now. Her mind is warped, bent with 'whys' and 'what ifs'.

She can't focus and it feels like she's drowning under an ocean of water, suffocating from a smothering feeling over her heart. Her stomach is a rock, rumbling with unpleasant emotion and she feels like she can turn and get sick at any moment.

The door slamming behinds her brings her back to reality and she deliberately approaches Jack's bedside. His upper torso is marred by pearly white bandages and there's a small spot of skin by his neck that's uncovered. She takes a seat in the chair Jerry had pulled up to his bedside, pulling the chair as close to the bed as possible and her knees touch the blanket covering him.

She notices, with dismay, that the blanket is lukewarm, a way to keep his body temperature at a normal rate. His face is peaceful in sleep, jaw slack and eyelids full. A tube is in his mouth, helping him to breathe while the heart monitor machine next to Kim beeps steadily and there's a hissing of air as it's pumped into his lungs.

Kim reaches forward and takes his hand, staying quiet as the sounds of beeping and hissing intermix to create a disoriented lullaby. She doesn't like seeing him like this. It's not her Jack. It's a person who's barely hanging onto keeping their heart beating. Kim spares a glimpse at the polished grey table next to her, seeing Jerry's phone sitting there.

Her face stays emotionless as she reaches over and picks it up, noticing the next crack across the bottom left corner of the screen. Seven, now eight, unread messages from Taylor (saved in Jerry's contacts as 'My Girl') lit up the screen.

7:14 am: Good morning Jer.

8:20 am: Where are you?

9:10 am: Jerry?

10:45 am: Well, this is a good way to piss me off Jer.

11:59 am: You promised you would help me with my history project today, Jerry.

12:33 pm: C'mon Jerry, answer me. You're freaking me out.

1:03 pm: Time to fail my presentation because I don't have you to stare at!

4:55 pm: I heard what happened. Please, please tell me you're okay Jerry. I can't lose you.

It's ironic, Kim thinks, how she can see Taylor's emotion flip-flop from carefree to horrified in a matter of events. But at the same time it's understandable because Kim feels that exact same flood of emotions right now. She's angry at Jack for going with him, she's upset about her boyfriend cackling on the line of death, she's in pain with the fact that she knows he's in pain even in sleep because she feels it too. She places Jerry's phone back on the table sluggishly, feeling her fingers burn.

Kim chuckles to herself, it's bitter and clipped as she reaches forward and slips her hand under his blanket.

She feels around until her hand comes across the pocket of his sweatpants; reaching in and pulling out Jack's phone. Kim nearly gags at the sight of the still-wet blood filling the screen of his iPhone, using the corner of her jacket to wipe it off until there's only smudges left behind and sure enough, as Kim had thought, her messages are still left unread on the lock screen.

8:30 am: Hey hon, where are you? Jerry drive off a cliff someplace by accident?

12:55 pm: Jack? Are you okay?

Re-reading the first text she had sent hours before hand caused her heart to ache more than it should've and she puts the phone into her jacket pocket before reaching back over and grabbing his uninjured hand.

She sends his sleeping face a sad smile.

"Damn you Brewer," she mutters gently, not able to put as much force behind her letters as she wanted to, "you said you weren't gonna let me leave again. Apparently you needed to make that promise for yourself instead."

She goes silent after a tense minute, exhaling when a lone tear slipped down her cheek.

"Are you really going to leave me alone here, Jack? Because I don't think I can last on my own for long."

Month 1—no change in condition.

Month 2—no change in condition.

Month 3.

His parents come back and don't give two shits about if their son lives or croaks.

Kim's irate.

Jerry's drowning in his own sorrow so badly that even Taylor can't bring him out of it.

Kim shouts at Jack, Jack who lays so freaking peaceful in that bed of his, until her voice runs hoarse some days. It kills her, the sight of him. Laying so still. It scares her. Kim sits at her bedside six days a week, the school excusing her absences (not that she would care either way).

She becomes friends with some of the nurses who had memorized her hospital meals for the days they were on duty, avoids the ones who look at Jack like he's nothing more than another number waiting for the grim reaper to make his rounds.

It's been three months since he had been first put in the coma and Kim was already in her chair by his bedside, the clock at the front of the room striking five at night just as Kim finishes up her dinner meal of one bare ham and cheese sandwich.

Her eyes are busy scouring through the clipboard left carelessly on the table next to him, as she chews slowly and reads about how there's been no change in his state.

About how he's only worsened in the time passed.

She lets out a heavy sigh as she grabs his hand, listening to the loud null of beeping coming from the heart monitor next to her. "There's no change with you, is there hon?" She takes the silence as an answer and can faintly guess what his answer would actually be.

Nope, he would counter, popping the 'p', but I still love you Kimmy. Don't let this destroy you.

Kim chuckles, feeling half like a mad person who was talking with the souls battling for dominance within her mind. "I love you Brewer. I do. Come back to me hon, please."

I'm trying Kimmy, I swear I am. It's just kinda hard, harder than I thought actually. It's like a maze in here, trying to find my way back.

It's quiet. For a few seconds. Then Kim retorts to the imaginary conversation she's having with her comatose boyfriend in her brain. "I miss you." He would laugh at her, the sound beautiful and thundering around the room.

I miss you too Kimmy. Stay strong for me, okay?

Her eyes are glossy with un-shed tears as she stares at his lips, at the tube giving him life.

"Okay."

Month 4—No change in condition.

Month 5—Condition worsened by three percent. Chance at survival now seven percent.

Month 6.

Taylor comes to visit Jack for the first time after six months on a Thursday after school, feeling like there's a gigantic weight weighing down her shoulders. Kim welcomes her with a tight hug and then they just talk.

They talk about karate movies and Jerry and school bitches and Christmas presents and homework and every possible thing on the planet besides Jack.

Besides Jack and his slow wait for death to make up its mind and either continue to play puppeteer or cut the strings to his life with taciturn and bitter hands.

Then they somehow get on the topic of Jack and Jerry and their first times (Jerry and Taylor had found an empty janitor's closet at school while Jack and Kim had done it on Jack's bed) and they had laughed at each other for a few hours.

When three in afternoon rolls around Taylor leaves with Jerry who doesn't leave the house without someone literally tugging him out the front door. He visits Jack on the one day Kim doesn't and she always finds dried tears on a crusty corner of Jack's newly changed hospital sheets and she knows that he cries his heart out when no one's around. She just hopes it doesn't push him over the edge.

Jack's parents disappear on another business trip this certain morning and Kim hasn't moved once from Jack's bedside, because of how pissed off she's been or how depressed she is in that moment she doesn't know, and his hand is clutched in hers—as it always is.

"I didn't know your home life was so damn horrible Brewer," she whispers, "you should have told me. My parents would have let you move in, you know."

I wouldn't want to burden you, Kimmy.

Her mind threw another imaginary conversation her way and Kim went along with it because, frankly, it was secluded sitting at his bedside by herself. "You wouldn't be a burden Jack. You never will be," and her hand lifts up and brushes the hair out of his eyes sympathetically, lips in a straight line.

That's just because you love me.

"Yeah, cause I love you, you big dork."

Month 7—No change in condition.

Month 8—Condition worsened by two percent. Chance at survival now five percent.

Month 9.

It's too bland in Jack's hospital room, Kim thinks, mind a jumble of numbers and letters as the words from the doctor that had updated her on his condition earlier still float around her brain. The doctor was giving him three more months and then pulling the plug.

His parents were out of the question and no one else was able to make the decision for him so the doctor was making it himself. Why keep someone alive if they weren't going to wake up because their brain was starting to loose function?

"Are you going to wake up for me hon?"

Kim questions to the placid air around her one day while she stares at his sleeping form, terror lacing her tone.

I'm trying baby, just hang on. Hang on.

Month 10—Condition worsened by three percent. Chance at survival now two percent.

Month 11— Condition worsened by one percent. Chance at survival now one percent.

Month 12.

Today marks a year.

A year of Kim sitting helplessly at Jack's beside.

A year of him being comatose.

The doctor was going to pull him from life support that following Monday. But it's a cloudy Tuesday evening around ten at night when Kim feels his hand abruptly jerk at hers. She nearly shits herself, because hell she wasn't expecting it, but then she hears him breathe—he breathes—and she jumps up from her seat, hovering over him.

His heart monitor is going wild and his eyes are frantically looking around the room, at the walls, at the ceiling and then, finally, at her.

And even though there's a tube in throat and his eyes are droopy and his lips are chapped, he still finds the strength to smile at her.

To freaking smile at her.

He then reaches a hand, and God it's trembling so much Kim thinks it's going to fall off, and pulls the tube out of his mouth so he can talk—the heart monitor goes barren and the hissing air in the room grows louder. Kim wonders how long it will take before somebody barges in to yell at her for messing with the machine around him (as Taylor had done just the other day by accident).

"Kimmy," he rasps and she wishes she had something for him to drink. His hold is weak against hers but she doesn't mind because he's awake. He's awake.

"Brewer. You're back." He shakes his head, barely.

"N-No Kim, I . . . I-I ain't gonna make i-it. I'm so s-sorry . . . Kimmy . . . "

She sniffles, feeling the tears trail down her cheeks tenderly. "O-Okay."

He groans from the wave of pain that suddenly hits him, feeling his body burn and ache and freeze and pinch. It hurts. A lot.

"D-Don't let this . . . hold y-you back Kim. Alight?"

"A-Alright. I . . . I love you Jack. Okay? I love you. Forever."

His lips twitch upwards and she can hear shouting from the hallway. Oh, now the nurses hear the crazy beeping? How ironic, Kim thinks hollowly. How fucking ironic. "I love you too Kimmy. F-Forever."

His grip on her hand loosens and she's happy she got a final moment with him.

With her best friend.

With Jack Brewer.

"It's okay to let go Brewer, I'll miss you. I'll miss you." She repeats it over and over until her voice goes near silent before moving her body so that she can press a final kiss to his lips. They taste of a metallic sting and their rough but she wouldn't have it any other way because it was him. It was Jack. The heart monitor flat lines just as an army of nurses and doctors rush in, Kim staring at Jack longingly.

"It's okay."

Kim had never missed the sound of beeping so much.