It's dark.
And warm.
At first Jay thinks he's died and passed on. He can't tell if it's heaven or hell he's landed himself in and can't will his eyes to open to check. They feel heavy like they're made of lead weights and they ache. Everything aches, a slow, dull, throbbing pain throughout his body.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The noise is distant at first, but it's getting closer. A slow, steady rhythm like a drum. Like a pulse.
That's when Jay realizes something is off.
His eyes snap open and he winces at the harsh glare of florescent lights. A tiled ceiling swims above him before floating into focus and he realizes he's in a hospital. He feels a plastic mask strapped over his nose and mouth, and soft cotton blankets draped over his torso and bare legs. A heart meter chants out his pulse, strong as ever, like nothing happened over the hum of machinery. He winces at the memory of shards of scalding metal piercing his skin, and sticky blood leaking on his hands from a unpluggable hole. Jay knows he can't be alive, yet here he is. Warmer and safer than he has felt in a long, long time.
Slowly he shifts his head to his right, wincing, and sees a dark hair figure slouched in a plastic chair, a discarded magazine at his feet.
"Tim?"
Jay is surprised by how hoarse and frail his voice sounds, but it wakes Tim well enough. The man rubs his blood shot eyes and run his fingers through his mussed hair. Blearily he looks at Jay. Then a flash of comprehension crosses his face. When it's gone, it leaves the smallest of smiles in it's place.
"Morning."
"Tim I-I... Alex he-"
"I know."
The calmness in Tim's voice shocks Jay, but it sounds rehearsed. "How am I alive?"
"EMTs," Tim says almost nonchalantly. Almost.
"And Alex? Totheark?"
"Alex is... gone."
Jay's eyes widen. Even after all this, there is still the memory of the old Alex, with a passion for films and dry wit. He shakes his head to clear the image away, but it persists. All he gets for his trouble is more pain.
"What about Totheark?"
Tim's grin sets into a hard line at the question. "I should tell the doctors you're awake."
Jay is about to press for answers, but he sees something in his friend's eyes that makes him stop. "Yeah."
He watches Tim leave. The only sounds are footsteps and the beeping of the machine at his side.
Tim doesn't tell Jay what he saw after he finally found him. The hooded man desperately trying to staunch the bleeding with his mask. Alex rushing at him. A flash of hot static behind his eyes and the man they had hunted for so long had vanished, taken by something.
Something told him Alex's absence would permanent this time.
Tim also doesn't tell him about the hooded man. About Brian. Brian who is, last he checked, sitting on his couch nursing a shiner with a bag of frozen peas, offering to tell him everything.
He hasn't taken that offer yet.
Jay deserves to know first.