Authors NoteThis Fanfic is told from Matt's point of view. (He – Jonah, She – Sara, They – The trapped souls.)

Exhale

It was the brink of unconsciousness, the line between asleep and awake. I could hardly breathe; my lungs were rejecting the air. It had been a bad dream ever since the start, and dying seemed the only way to escape. I would close my eyes, but then all I could see was his damn face, those azure eyes begging me to hold on until it was over. The side of my conscious that Jonah had grasped would take over, and I would let it. But he could only hold on to me so long. Eventually I had to find what little life I had left and help him finish what he had so shamefully been a part of.

I escaped through the window and rushed to the house. He took the axe from the shed and started towards the door. He slammed the axe into the door and forced his entry. I dragged my family to the safety outside. He peeled away at the rotting wood of the walls. I watched the bodies tumble onto the ground, dead eyes piercing me with so much hate and fury it hurt. He lit the match. I watched flame. He closed his eyes. I stared into theirs.

The heat from the building fire licked at my skin, but I couldn't feel it; I could only feel what they wanted me to feel. They forced their pain into me, my body acting like a catalyst for their agony and rage. My legs gave out and he barely managed to take control and save me from slamming into the wood floor, stretching my arms out in front of me so my head didn't take the brunt of the fall.

It hurts, Jonah. He heard my plight and lifted some of the agony, letting me finally suck in precious oxygen. Smoke tainted my lungs, but I didn't care, it would all be over soon anyway.

He watched them come closer. I saw their hands close over me, more pain then I've ever felt in my entire life flooding throughout my entire being, making me cry out. He retreated further into my conscious, holding onto my living energy and forcing me to breathe, even though it hurt.

I didn't hear her until she was right beside me, her voice resonating in my ears, the warmth of her arms flooding through the cold of my body. She dragged me back, barely managing to avoid one of the corpses as it fell from the ceiling. We took shelter underneath a nearby table, watching as the house was eaten away by the fire. She tightened her grip around me, a Psalm spilling past her lips to drift across my mind.

Jonah was barely hanging on now. He was dying all over again, but as our souls mingled together on the edge of death I could feel his content, his fulfillment to pass away in the presence of someone who cared, even if it wasn't him the person cared for. His heart, beating only the ears of the dying, beat together with my own, a slowing rhythm accented with our slowing breath. Our souls, now irrevocably entwined during those moments, began to fade.

The damned watched our last moments with contempt. They stayed trapped until Aikman's sins were paid in blood, waiting until our hearts began to still before dimming away like smoke. Jonah let go with their salvation. I felt his soul slip away from mine and a small smile flickered across my chapped lips.

He gave his final heart-beat to me. I exhaled his last breath.