Absence of the Heart
By Kay
Disclaimer: Hell, if I owned Everworld, the world would be a much more insane place... that and Jalil would have to say the word "kitties" three times a book. Ayi. ^_^ If only...
Author's Notes: Well, what *else* do I write? SLASH. ^_^;; Very big time this time-- no implication bull, this is making out, god-I-love-this-GUY-here M/M stuff. (How I love thee, slash!) No sex, mind you... but talk about it. Intimate situations. Idiotic cussing. Jalil not having control. MWAHAHAHAA.
Jalil: o.o;; ... you are SO insane it's not funny. Let me guess, you shoved me with Christopher this time? Or have you decided to show the world how funny it is to have intimate meanings behind David's words to me half the time? -_- I swear...
^^;; ... it's Christopher. 'gain. Sorry, Jalil-chan! Alright-- what else is need to be known? Umm... you'd bettera read Book 5, "Descover the Destroyer", cause this is when it takes place. I just... felt an urge to write it. ^^;; As usual. Eheheh... this is the scene where Jalil and Christopher are waiting to see if David carries through with Plan B before their "artificial hearts" fry inside of their chests. ::cackles:: And therefor, I had to write this. Mwahahaa.
As usual, it's OOC and badly written. But I love you people for saying it's not. ::SHINE:: You reviewed my fics... ANYWAY. Enjoy the fic, yadda yadda, flame and throw hate bricks at me all you want, I'll just eat them...
~~~~~~~~~~~
The silence was going to kill him before the heart frying thing did.
That thought flitted briefly through his head for the millionth time that evening, and Christopher scowled heavily. It was far from the first time he'd thought it-- and nearly true, too. The silence was going to rip his mind apart, cast him into the loony bin, far before his heart went nuclear. Less work for Big and Crusty, Nighoggr, at least, right? Die of the frickin' quiet instead of explosion in his chest.
Right. That would be the way to go.
He sighed again, loud and heavy in the stillness. It was so... *silent*. Not just in his chest-- but there, too, there was no heartbeat, nothing that pounded noisily in the nothingness-- but everywhere around him now. Earlier, he'd thought that, in a place like Fairyland where everyone was busy, there'd always be something moving around. Some sound to echo in his ears, that was normal.
But they'd given them a nice room in an inn, their contact had. The one they were making rich-- or Jalil was, at least, with that telegraph idea of his. The fairy guy had been more than happy to help them secure a place to sleep now that they'd made him richer than the king. The result was this; a comfortable room located in a nice but not fancy inn, with *no* room service (Christopher *had* checked) and lumpy but okay, decent beds.
Correction: lumpy but okay, decent *bed*. Just one, mind you.
Not that Christopher was complaining.
It was one that was actually a lot better than what they'd all been sleeping on-- really. It was a hell of a lot nicer, with actual blankets and sheets and pillows. (Clean sheets are equal to heaven's bliss, he figured.) So it wasn't the bed, or the hotel room, or even the lack of room service that made him so nervous. Nervous enough to shut up and let the silence eat him alive. There was something else entirely that made him so irritated, when he should be relaxed, on this decent bed, for once not running for his life.
And that one thing was currently ignoring him. Or sleeping.
That seemed likely. Ever since Jalil and Christopher had decided to go to bed, instead of endure painful waiting, the dark eyed scientist had made it *painfully* clear that-- "If you bother me while I'm sleeping, I'll kill you in a thousand methods, each more painful than the next." With that, Jalil had curled up beneath the covers beside Christopher, shut his eyes, and hadn't spoken since.
Christopher scowled to himself and up at the cieling above him. He really didn't like the quiet. Sure, it had it's uses-- when they were running for their lives (or hiding), and in cases that involved life threatening situations... sure, then he could see why quiet was good. But they were waiting for their deaths, waiting for the last moment when their hearts *might* implode within their chests. And damned if he was going to spend it in silence.
"You do a great imitation of a rock, Jalil."
Next to him, laying on his side with his back to Christopher's body, Jalil made a muffled sound that seemed to resemble, "Ch'," very well. Of course, it was hard to tell-- the dark teenager was curled up on the edge of the bed, determined not to be anywhere near anything resembling another body, and therefor his mouth was pressed against the pillow.
But it sounded like "Ch'", so Christopher assumed that was it.
"What was that?" Narrowing his eyes up at the cieling, Christopher tucked his hands under his head and smirked. "Oh, did I wake you up?"
There was a tiny, dark mutter before Jalil's head rose from the pillow. Obviously, either he'd been asleep, or actually nearing the process-- his body tensed right away, loosing the relaxed posture of rest. Then he lifted his head again, and mumbled, "Christ'pher, what'd you *want*?"
The blonde grinned widely. Plan A successfully implented-- Jalil was awake and talking, although somewhat blurrily, and obviously annoyed. Pleased, he answered gleefully, "The pleasure of your company, of course."
"... oh jesus. I'm dead, amen't I?" Right away, Jalil jerked halfway up, leaning back on his elbow and twisting around so he stared up at the cieling-- and clumsily felt his chest. "I *am* dead. Christopher would never say he wanted the pleasure of my company."
"I'm not that bad!" Christopher protested, frowning again. He glared at the boy next to him, sullenly adding, "And you're not dead, either. We're just missing our hearts, remember? Implodation threat?"
"I don't think 'implodation' is a word." Jalil sighed softly to himself, but was apparently relaxing, letting his fingers gently fall to a rest over where his heart cavity was. A tiny frown flitted over his features, worry and irritation and fear. "But I know what you mean. David hasn't gotten through yet, I suppose..."
"I bet he doesn't anyway," Christopher announced lightly, flopping back and looking up at the cieling. It was covered in shadowed cracks. "The general may be mighty, but he hath gotten sick... remember? Or have you forgot that part, O' Smart One?"
Shaking his head in exasperation, Jalil didn't say a word. However-- as Christopher'd planned from the beginning-- he obviously gave up on sleep. Instead, he twisted and shifted so that he was laying on his other side, facing Christopher, with a tiny frown imprinted on his features.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Time to get drunk." The blonde shook his head woefully. "Definatly time to get drunk."
"Christopher, you always think it's time to get drunk."
Cocking his head to the side, Christopher raised an eyebrow. "And you don't think that... right now, with the threat of our hearts going Ka-Boom on us... that we should get smashed off our asses?"
"No, I don't think we should get smashed off our asses. You go get smashed off your ass. I'll stay here, with a nice sober one, thank you."
"Stiff neck." Christopher yawned, blue eyes squeezing shut momentarily as he stretched. Almost absently, he listened for the sound of his heart rushing up as the blood went to his head-- but it wasn't there. His heart wasn't there. Then he opened his eye again, and turned to look into the darker, deeper eyes of his friend and comrade. Jalil simply looked back, serious and fretting at the same moment.
"You know..." the blonde said slowly, and Jalil leaned forward to hear the nearly inaudible words. "We could die any minute..."
A chill ran through the room like a frozen wall of frigid crystal-- iced over their spines and coating their minds with a thin veil of fear. Jalil shuddered without meaning to.
"... and it looks like General David might not make it..." Christopher continued softly. He, too, seemed to shiver slightly at the implication, a distant and dead look entering his eyes. Almost automatically, his hand reached up to cover his heart, and he winced.
"And we don't even know what time it is... so it could be *anytime*... we're just waiting..."
The words weighed heavily on them both.
Jalil felt the absence of his heart, felt it, and heard himself say, "You're right. We need to get drunk."
"Atta boy." And Christopher grinned at him, pulling his hand away, as well as the chill atmostphere in the room. Once again, their breaths seemed to flow evenly, and their bodies relaxed. The world moved again, and there was a little hope.
"I hope you like beer," Christopher said cheerfully, sliding off the bed. "'Cause that's all they have."
Groaning, Jalil only shook his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The world had never seemed so mixed up.
"So... so who even knows... y'know... whether these planets have... like..." Christopher paused, blinking slowly down at the glass of beer-- somehow refilled although he swore it was empty a second ago. "Like..." he repeated, "... other life and stuff. Extra... extree... terres... extres... god damn it...!"
"Extraterr... aliens," Jalil mumbled out to help.
"Yeah. Like the X-Files." The blonde nodded sagely, and noticed that the bartender that had been serving them had filled up Jalil's glass also. Good service, in his opinion. Very good.
"Well, there are aliens here... in Everworld..." Jalil interrupted his thoughts, staring up at the cieling vaguelly. "Sooo... they could be in our world... I mean, we're in both worlds- right? So they could be, too."
Christopher let out a loud laugh that seemed out of place. "Is that your theory thing? That... that we're, like, all here so aliens could be, too?"
"I don't know! I'm... argh... it's hard t'think..."
"'Cause we're even more drunk than we planned to be! Mission accomplished!"
"I can't believe y-you got me... got me..." Jalil paused, astonishment on his face. "D-d... what is it?!"
"Drunk?" Christopher answered absently, a goofy grin spread widely across his own face. He tossed back another gulp of the bitter liquid with a satisfied giggle. "Drunk, Jalil... whooaa, man, we are *smashed*."
"Drunk..." Jalil intoned to himself thoughtfully. His usually rigid posture was relaxed to the point where he was practically draped over the tavern table-- their hotel had thoughtfully supplied an easy to get to tavern downstairs, so at least they wouldn't have to walk far.
"Drunk," Jalil repeated, his dark eyed widening almost innocently. "I h'ven't... been drunk for... er..."
"To looong... way to long. Should have done this ages ago," Christopher mumbled to himself gleefully. He smacked the table with his hand, nodding over at Jalil with a funny gleam in his eyes. "Y'know... before this would be th' last time I get to."
"Last time?"
"'Cause..." he answered with a grimace, "Remember we're close t'being burnt from the inside out? Our General hasn't even succeeded yet an'... and it's been..." He shook his head, blue eyes clouding over darkly. "To long..." And he wasn't sure if he meant waiting to get drunk, or to long since their "leader" had left them waiting. Jalil apparently didn't know either, just made a face and looked back down at his drink.
Finally, after the silence stretched on, Jalil spoke up suddenly-- not as clear sounding, but a bit more coherent than their earlier discussion of "alien life in the real world".
"You know, I bet he's not even trying to save us. Wanna bet Senna got her paws on him again."
"Bitch," Christopher agreed sadly, taking another drink. "It's a sad thing to see, when a man gets whipped into place by a girl with half the muscle strength he has."
"Senna doesn't need muscles... she has magic," the dark eyed teenager said in disgust, shaking his head. He moved as if to take another sip from his own refilled beer, but changed his mind and scooted it away from his elbow at the last minute. He could thankfully already feel his head become clearer-- he'd insisted on a light alcohol content. "'Sides... I seem to remember you goin' off to save her, too, that one time. With... uh... the dragon and the knights."
"Galahad. That's right, I 'member..." Christopher chuckled slightly. "Okay, so maybe she had me for a while, too... y'know, she's hard to resist. A man needs a woman in his life to make... you know, things feel okay again."
"You're talking about... what? Love? Sex?" Jalil scowled, frowning down at the table like it'd personally insulted him. "I don't think Senna gives either of them-- her definition of 'love' has got to be seriously freaky and twisted, man."
"Ewww... love and sex with Senna. Gross." Christopher made a bland face. "Like touching a rock-- cold, inmovable, and you get no where with it. Unless you're David, but that's just because you're a freakin' puppet that does her bidding."
"Right," the dark skinned boy agreed, eyes flashing in irritation. "I bet he forgot all about us for her."
"Stupid pathetic wanna-be hero boy-"
"-off doing the nasty with the witchy woman-" Jalil interrupted, grimacing.
"- and not giving a damn whether we fry from the inside out."
Having finished that, Christopher slammed his hand on the table again, forcing himself to push down until he could support standing up slightly. "And worst 'f all... I'm going to die seriously sex-deprived myself! I need to get laid. Badly." A mournful look crossed his face. "Sheesh, and you'd think the babes would be clamouring for me... A man isn't a man without getting some before he dies of heart implodations."
Jalil muttered something unaudible, and suddenly reached out to grab his beer glass, still full. Tilting his head back, he drowned half of it, before pushing it away again and gasping for air. Blinking, Christopher watched curiously.
"What'd you say?" he asked innocently.
Frowning and looking slightly bothered by the question, Jalil just shook his head. He stared down at the table, but not before Christopher glimpsed the slight darkening around his cheeks as he flushed hotly. The idea appealed to the blonde-- he'd never seen his stoic, stiff-necked friend ever blush before or look flustered.
"What is it?" he pushed, insisting. "C'mon, you can tell me, man... I won't remember it in th' morning anyway..."
Christopher almost started giggling hysterically, when Jalil's face peeked up into his, still brightly flushed, complete with a slight sulk to it.
"I'm..."
"Yes?" the blonde prodded, still grinning widely. Jalil made a bland face, before burying his face in his hands and muttering,
"M' still a... you know..."
There was a moment of confused silence. And then Christopher got the meaning.
"You're a *virgin*?!" he shrieked, laughing madly-- and displaying this fact to the entire tavern. Which wouldn't matter anyway, as the only ones there in the hotel tarvern this late were a few pass-out drunks not even listening, and the waitress who was currently ignoring them. She'd been doing so for an hour, at least.
"Shut up!" Jalil hissed, deeply dark eyes flashing in humiliation. "You son of a--"
"I just... can't believe..." Christopher let out another odd giggle, wondering dimly if he was even making sense on this train of thought. "What about girlfriends? One night stands?! Hookers?!"
"Jesus Christ, I'm not that kind of person!" the teenager wailed in response, burying his face in his arms again-- a rather cute gesture. And sadly, Christopher reflected with more laughter, Jalil was a rather cute and emotional drunk. He'd have to drag him out to get him smashed more often, considering if they lived til morning. Until then, he could just tease him.
"I just can't believe you haven't... okay, anything? You've done nothing at all?" Christopher pushed curiously, grinning in sadistic intent and mock friendly bonding. He pushed Jalil's arm gently away from his face, revealing what could easily be taken for a sulky, hurt expression even on the face of this particular person. Dark eyes blinked owlishly at him, followed by a tiny frown.
"... nothing like *that*, no. And shut up an' leave it alone, jerk."
"What about men?"
Another little silence fell about them. Jalil looked shocked and furious at the same time.
Quite simply, Christopher wasn't sure what prompted him to ask that either-- one minute he was wondering whether Jalil was always this easy-going and adoringly odd when he was drunk -- and the next minute his mouth was opening to ask that stupid question.
Seeing no other way to get around it, he tried shrugging lightly. "Well... sorry, I didn't think you'd be upset if I asked. I mean, you don't exactly go around hounding girls, man."
"Because I'm not you," Jalil snapped crossly, trying to look intimidating with a glare, but only managing to deepen the pensive sulk he was using. Something told him that if he wasn't drunk, he'd be kicking Christopher's ass that moment. "I don't chase anything in a... a skirt or shorts or whatever you like to see."
"Uh-huh... true, true. I like 'em as they come." Drawling the words out, Christopher slouched down in his chair and gazed earnestly into Jalil's eyes. "But, really... have you ever thought about it an' all? I mean..."
"What do you mean?" Sighing heavily, the dark eyed teenager shook his head in woeful irritaiton. The pleasent 'drunk haze' was starting to fade. "I don't understand you sometimes, Chris'pher..."
"I know, I don't understand me either." Making his voice serious, he added, "It's to bad, y'know... if our Napoleon guy doesn't come through for us... this could be it. The last night. And we're discussing sexuality an' stuff."
"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Jalil said matter of factly. "People do creepy stuff when they're about to die. I read about... this one guy, he was dying of lung stuff, and he went out and bought every single James Bond video available, because he promised his kid he'd watch them with him someday."
Christopher paused, opened his mouth, then blinked. "Damn... that's really sad. I mean, poor guy."
"Yeah..." Jalil sighed. "But he lived. Treatment. I wonder if we will...?"
"Probably not. We're gonna fry worse than onion rings in a fast food grill, my friend. Only we don't get eaten, let's hope."
Caught off guard and more at ease than ever, Jalil laughed at the joke. "It'd be nice to escape uneaten, yeah." He chuckled to himself again, for no real reason except to hear it, and then was surprised to catch Christopher staring at him in surprise and admiration. "... what?"
"You laughed." Christopher's voice was awed, delighted. "I mean, you laugh a lot... but it's usually... cynical and weird. Kinda distant. But... damn, you laugh cool when you mean it. I need to get you drunk more!" Some part of his mind added silently, 'You have a great smile when you actually mean to use it'. At this point, Christopher blushed to himself and tried to vanish the oddly placed thought away from his mind.
Strangly, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea that was circulating in his head.
"We probably won't live long enough for that," Jalil reminded him, in response to his eagerness to get drunk again. "We're going to die... um... any hour now, probably. It sucks, but it's true. Besides, at least this way we won't have hangovers from hell."
"I wish I could buy all the James Bond movies now. Or at least have *some* television. If we die here, and just end up in the real world, I'm going to spent hours just watching 'Friends' and laying on the couch." Christopher chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. There was a plan still going through his mind, insane and crazy and just *wrong* in some fashion... but he wasn't exactly sober or in the mood to be rational...
"Sounds like a good plan..." Jalil mumbled. "TV. I don't watch a lot of it, but... hey, if I live, I'll make a note to see every 'Friends' episode they have."
"Yeah. I have a better idea, though," Christopher interrupted suddenly, staring with suddenly intense blue eyes-- eyes trained on Jalil's face with uncanny seriousness. The idea that had been running through his mind was starting to display itself more. "A much better idea. So this way we don't waste our last hours... an' also, we take care of your losing virginity and me gettin' laid problem."
Frowning harder at him, Jalil shook his head warily. "I'm not into picking up strange women on the streets, Christopher... don't you have better taste than that?"
"I have *much* better taste than that!" Christopher cried, insulted and indignant. He reached out, grabbing Jalil's slender arm roughly, and gave his stunned face a large, vicious smirk. Jalil just stared wide eyed up into his face.
"Christopher...?" he asked softly, suddenly feeling much more cautious than he had been. This was getting to strange, much to fast for his taste, and the fact that he was still feeling the effects of the alochol weren't helping.
"Yeah, *much*, much better taste.." Christopher repeated in a low, amused whisper, and leaned down with slow, obvious intent for his friend's face.
Jalil tensed... drew up his muscles into his thin shoulder blades to hold himself rigidly... but didn't break away. Even though the moment Christopher's breathe brushed lightly against his face, he knew what was going to be done. Still, even then-- he only squeezed his dark eyes shut tightly. After all, how could something like this hurt, if he was going to die any moment anyway?
And all thoughts left his head as Christopher kissed him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be Continued-- I know, I know. I suck at writing, it's OOC, it's just weird... ^^;; Oh well!
Fixed this chapter today. Was v. annoyed it was broken. Grrrrr.
Thanks to all the great reviewers who let me know! ^__^ ::glomps:: And to any curious ones-- third chapters almost done, and it's much more serious...
