I couldn't take it.
My heart sunk right into my stomach, like it was filled with lead, and then it rose into my throat and poured out of my eyes.
The sight of him there, strapped down and trapped in his own grotesque body, was enough to make me start sobbing. I didn't care that the wheezers or the blacksuits might come any second.
I just cared about him, saving him, trying to make him remember his name.
"Donovan," I managed to croak out in a choked sob. "D, hey."
"Donovan is dead." He muttered, over and over.
"No," I groaned. "No, Donovan, you're here. You're here, god damn it..." I tried to touch his chest but it was like trying to touch the sun.
"Alex," came the sandpaper whisper from the wall. "We have to go."
I barely heard Simon through my muttering.
"Donovan, D, no."
"Donovan is dead. Donovan is dead." He grinned that same shark-toothed grin that all the blacksuits wore, and it was then that I completely lost it. I let out an anguished howl and grabbed him by the neck, stretching myself up to plant a violent kiss to his lips. It was by no means graceful or romantic; in fact, it was scalding and mostly a crash of teeth, but it took him by surprise, so he didn't fight back. I let go with shaking, burning hands and lips, still heaving with sobs. The shock on his face seemed to clear away a mental fog, he blinked slowly, once, twice-and his face, his face, Donovan's face, monstrous though it was-grinned at me in that warm, mischievous way that always brought sunlight to the dark chasm of my heart.
"Shoulda done that earlier, mate. Woulda caught me when I was still handsome."
I laughed, exhausted and elated.
"I don't care, I love you anyway." I didn't have time for coy evasions anymore, I said it and I meant it. It was now or never and I chose now.
"I...I love you too, Alex."
"I'll come back for you, I swear."
"I believe you."
I kissed him again, shorter this time but gentler.
I ran to Simon and Zee, both waiting impatiently for me, eyes darting around for any sign of wheezers.
"You will tell no one about this." I said, not sounding nearly as intimidating as I wanted to.
We snickered as we snuck out of the infirmary again, all of us giddy with a sense of renewed hope. Donovan had made it out of the soul-stealing fog in his brain. If he and Monty could do it, then any of us could. Even if we got caught trying to escape, we could still resist. We could spit in the face of the Warden's plans and keep our souls intact. I smiled and touched my lips as we ran, not caring that they throbbed and stung.
That night (or day, who knows what's when in Furnace?) I didn't have a nightmare, though I'm sure as hell not going to tell you what my dream was actually about.