Names get carved in the red oak tree
Of the ones who stay and the ones who leave
Jay sat on the edge of the hotel bed, hunched over, staring at his bare feet. He had turned the TV on a while ago, but he wasn't watching it. Some local station, set to low volume, acted as background noise to the sound of running water in the bathroom. Jay listened to Tim, who appeared to be splashing his face with water. The water did not drown out the sound of ragged coughing. Jay looked up, staring at the shadow moving under the crack of the bathroom door. "Tim?" Jay called, "You okay?" On the other side of the door, Tim drew breath to respond, and gave over to another coughing fit. Jay stood up, walking towards the bathroom door. "Tim?" he said again, leaning on the door frame. Jay listened with increasing worry as Tim struggled to breathe between coughs, which were becoming increasingly wet sounding. Jay waited several more seconds until he realized Tim's coughing fit wasn't stopping. Jay jiggled the door knob, finding that Tim had locked it. "Tim? Unlock the door! TIM!" Movement from behind the door, then a loud thud and crash. Jay shouldered the door several times, shouting Tim's name now. There was no response. Jay finally managed to break down the door after a frantic thirty sixty seconds of attempts. Tim was sprawled out on the floor, head inches from the porcelain base of the toilet. "Tim?" Jay said again, panic rising in his voice as he kneeled beside his friend. A thin line of bloody spittle stretched from the corner of Tim's mouth to his chin. His arms and legs stretched out in unnatural positions, the leftover signs of a seizure. Face upturned, Tim would have been looking at the white wash ceiling. "Tim?" Jay repeated, eyes flicking to his chest. Tim was no longer breathing.
I will wait for you there with these cindered bones
Jay searched frantically for a pulse, fingers pressing with bruising force into the side of Tim's neck, snatching at his wrist and squeezing. Searching for any kind of reassurance. Jay found none. Remembering that CPR class he had taken in high school, Jay found himself beginning chest compressions, putting as much weight as he felt safe into pumping Tim's chest. Counting aloud in breathless whispers, Jay watched Tim's face for changes, signs of life. Jay abandoned the chest compression method, grabbing Tim's hair none too gently and tilting his head back on the tiled floor. Pinching Tim's nose, Jay swooped lower, covering Tim's mouth with his own and blowing. Jay retreated, turning his face and waiting to feel warm breath on his cheek. There was none. Jay took another deep breath, exhaling it into Tim's lungs and once again turning his cheek. Jay felt nothing. "Come on Tim, come on." Jay half shouted, feeling tears stinging his eyes as he exhaled another breath into Tim. "Please?" he whispered, his throat tight. Jay attempted chest compressions again, his method becoming increasingly slower as he began to lose hope. "Please." Jay begged, ceasing his resuscitation attempts.
So follow me follow me down
Minutes ticked by as Jay waited for something to happen. For Tim to inhale sharply, eyes fluttering open, laughing that ridiculous laugh of his at Jay's worry over him. Jay was crying now, frozen in place over Tim, a hand on either side of his head. Tim was gone now, and Jay was alone. Alone in his fight against the Operator. Alone in his search for clues and answers. Alone in the empty hotel room, silent aside from the murmur of the TV and his own dry sobbing. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jay sat back on his knees, resting a hand on Tim's cheek. Gently, with his thumb, Jay pulled back the lid of his eye. They stared straight ahead, glazed. Something was missing from them that his resuscitation attempts hadn't brought back. Jay gingerly closed Tim's eye before clearing his throat and standing up. Wiping away the collected tears that had collected just beneath his chin, Jay turned his focus to the sink. An alarming amount of blood stained the white porcelain, the apparent results of Tim's coughing fits. Next to the sink, with it's cap beside it, sat Tim's seizure medication, over halfway full. They hadn't helped Tim this time.
Follow me follow me down
Jay picked the bottle up, it's contents rattling loudly against the plastic. Tim, his best friend, his only friend, was gone. Just like that. Not in a final showdown with the Operator, or in a fight with Alex, but in the bathroom of some hotel off the interstate. The last thing he had seen was the ceiling of a hotel bathroom. Tim had died alone, separated from Jay by a locked door. That thought made fresh tears streak down Jay's cheeks, once again pooling under his chin. Jay ignored them, his blurry vision shifting to the orange pill bottle that rattled in his palm as he turned it over, spilling its contents into his empty hand.
Follow me follow me down
The bottle made a hollow sound as it hit the ground. It took Jay several moments to realize he had dropped it. It hardly mattered now. He couldn't continue on like this alone. And Tim had left him, that selfish bastard. Well, Jay thought, he couldn't get away from him that easily. Dividing the pills, Jay took both halves and held them in his hands. Jay looked in the mirror, mounted behind the sink. He could taste Tim on his lips, his toothpaste and something metallic. Quietly, Jay tilted his head back and brought his left hand to his mouth, letting the handful of pills drop onto his tongue. Jay swallowed them dry, ignoring the discomfort of it.
Follow me follow me down
The hand holding the remaining pills shook slightly now, and his palms sweated. Jay looked at himself in the mirror, looking himself over, making the decision. Slowly, so very slowly, Jay brought his right hand to his mouth, parting his lips slightly this time. The pills teetered on the edge of his palm before sliding in. Jay swallowed, gripping the edge of the sink tightly now with his hands, his knuckles white. He could already feel his pulse quickening. Jay released the sink, taking a final look at himself in the mirror before he sank to the ground. Wedging himself in the space between Tim and the bathtub, Jay lay on his side, facing Tim. Jay found it hard to breathe, and tears were welling in his eyes again. This wasn't how he had pictured his final moments. Jay extended his arm, his movements slowed down and deliberate. He wiped the line of bloody spittle from Tim's chin. "I'm sorry, Tim. Sorry that this happened..." Jay whispered, closing his eyes. Tim was the last thing Jay ever saw.