First time writing CoD fanfiction! Oneshot that got out of hand, so now it's split into three chapters. Story takes place after Volume 13, Chapter 5. Spoilers. All characters belong to Cause of Death.
Dedicated to the lovely Shirley, who motivated me to finish this piece.
Jeremy's POV
Time slowed to a snail's pace as I lay there, alone on the ground, bleeding from my chest wound. It hurt to breathe, and I began to freeze in the chilly air. A dark cloudy-ness blurred my vision. Was this the end? Did everything in my life lead up to this point? All the speed and accuracy in my limbs from before could not help me avoid the knife. In the end, I was just another of the fallen to the infamous Ghost, and that insured my imminent death. As I drifted and the world spun around, I succumbed to the darkness and closed my eyes…
"Jeremy! Oh, god, Jeremy!"
Footsteps pounded the hard pavement. The image of blonde, shimmering hair and eyes that could match that of a glittering ocean in the setting sun swam in my vision.
"Jeremy! Jeremy!"
Callused hands with a gentle touch flitted on my face. My angel. Sweet, fiery Blaise- No! I can't leave her, I refuse to! Not now when she just started opening… up… to…
And then she was gone. I was gone.
Blaise's POV
I heard one lone gunshot outside, before a car peeling out of the parking lot registered in my mind. As I ran outside the building, I saw… "Jeremy!" Oh no. He's on the ground, he's not moving, I can barely see his chest moving, and- blood. Lots of blood. His usually pristine outerwear was covered with it. His blood.
"Oh, god, Jeremy!" No. NO.
I didn't get to him in time. I had failed him. My mind was screaming at me, No! This can't be happening! No No No No No NO NO. I lay my hand gently on his head, smoothing down to his cheek, so ghastly pale and cold compared to his usual healthy tan and warm body. His eyes, normally full of mirth, now gazed up at the sky listlessly. Could he even see me? Did he know that he wasn't alone? I took one of his hands and held it in my free one, desperately trying to warm him up, but it was a feeble attempt. As I sat there, numbed, the only thing I could do was hold his hand in mine. How pathetic of me, to only be able to do this, willing to do this now, when he was-
I could hear the door open behind me, which meant… "Ah hell!" "No…" The cavalry had come, but it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. Whipping my head to turn to them, I glared. "Don't just stand there! Get a goddamn ambulance!" I was mad, spitting mad, but on top of that, I was scared. The fear had numbed me so that I had forgotten to call for the medics myself. And that's why, maybe, I wasn't enough. I couldn't think properly around him. I never could, but especially now, when he needed me the most.
And then, his eyes closed.
"Jeremy?" Nothing. "JEREMY?!"
By this time, I had blocked out anything else. I left the duty of reporting to the lieutenant what had happened to Mal and Natara. They would be able to deliver the report just fine. And when the ambulance arrived, I insisted upon riding in the back with J. I couldn't bear being away from him, especially not now. But no, nope, not at all. They just had to refuse me, even with my glares and later, pleas, but to no avail. They left me standing outside of the ambulance, fuming, until the other two had to drag me into their car.
The ride back to the city was silent. They knew I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, unless it was- I sighed. There were some murmurs up front, but I paid them no mind. Before I knew it, we had arrived in front of my apartment. I could barely muster out a feeble "thanks" and leave the car, but I could not escape the inevitable.
"We're here if you need to talk." I could practically see Natara lowering the window, her expression forlorn. In response, I turned my head to the side for a moment, and then ascended the steps into the building. On autopilot, I went through everyday actions emotionlessly: waiting for the elevator, going up to my floor, unlocking the door, taking a shower… It wasn't until I crawled into bed that I let her words echo in my head.
"We're here if you need to talk" soon turned into "… I'm here if you need to talk." His words from this morning at the precinct came back to haunt me. Sitting upright, I grabbed the nearest pillow and held it closely to me, head bent, my chin resting atop the pillow. Clutching it to me tightly, I took a deep breath. I could faintly make out his cologne, subtle but enough to get me kicking on other days, mixed with another scent that was distinctly Jeremy.
Plop.
He had left behind his mark last night, before I had been called away to my mother's side in the early morning. He'd lock up for me when he left; he had a spare key to my apartment, after all. Now, though, the pillow only served to remind me that he wasn't next to me, that he couldn't possibly be here with me. Instead, he was alone in a hospital, a stark place filled with the odor of ammonia.
Plop.
Was he in surgery at this moment? Would the doctors be able to save him?
Plop. Plop plop.
Was he going to come out alive and well, to make smartass remarks to my sarcastic quips? To call me out on my stubbornness on relying only on myself? I buried my face into the pillow.
Drip.
Would he be able to tease me about my fear of spiders? Fake being asleep next to me when I knew he had been awake, watching me in the early morning? Wrap his arms around me when he sensed I needed reassurance?
Drip. Drip.
I raised my head and let out an angry wail. Only after I had punched the pillow repeatedly did I realize it was damp. Leaning forward, I clasped my fingers around the pillow again, bowing my head and did the only thing I could do behind closed doors.
I cried. Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body. I hurt everywhere, but mostly, it was my heart. The pain was worse than that time the cannibal bit me, much more intense than all the injuries I had sustained from the job combined. And the fear—my "fear" of spiders paled in comparison to what I was feeling right now. I was absolutely terrified. With shaking hands, I turned on the light on my nightstand.
How did I get to this sorry blubbering mess? I'm Blaise Corso! Blaise! I don't have the time or patience to have feelings other than laugh at people like Kai, or glare at Mal and the Fed. I like to hunt down mobsters for a hobby! I'm not some touchy-feely princess, good grief! And least of all, I don't let anyone in, because nobody ever stays around for long.
…except for Jeremy.
When did I make him the exception? How did he get past all my defenses?
"Hey, look… if you reeeeally have no life, then yeah, you can come over to my mom's and give me a hand someday." "Good. 'Cause I have no life."
Despite the tears, I smiled a little to myself. That baby-faced idiot, so happy about something so… so insignificant to other people. But he's a special one, isn't he.
"I still care about you, and I'm there for you, whether you like it or not."
And then the dam on the waterworks burst through again.
…
"If I'm so insignificant, you should pull the trigger already."
"Oh, I don't think so. I have plans for you, and I'm not going to leave you any choice…"
No. "NO!"
Gasping for air, I opened my eyes. My breathing was ragged, and I could hear my heart beating wildly.
The nightmare was back.