CAUTION: i've never cried while writing a fic.

i cried while writing this one.

spoilers up through entry #80.

i can see the green light

i can see it in your eyes

the room was empty. y. no, it couldn't have been, it couldn't, jay was just here, here, here. he ran in, tim saw him with his own eyes, clutching his chest and shutting the door. he had to be in here, he couldn't be gone, no he couldn't, please, please.

there had been some small corner in the back of tim's mind that whispered this is never going to work when he zip tied jay to the floor. you're in idiot, it whispered. leaving him here all alone. a coward. you hide behind your mask like a shield, and you can't make decisions as the person you fight so hard to be. "shut up," tim whispers as he shuts off the camera, and pulls out of the driveway. his driveway. the house that alex has been living in.

the alex that had just shot jay.

it happened too quickly. that's tim's excuse for not jumping in front of the bullet and taking it himself. alex appeared out of nowhere and now jay's gone and he doesn't know what the fuck to do, what to do, do, do.

tim slides against the wall of the college, defeated, trying to recall jay. his too dark eyes from fear and lack of sleep. his sunken cheekbones and lithe form from malnutrition. he tries to remember the nights in which they'd stay up, staring at one another in the dark of the hotel room, neither saying a word, just staring. unblinking.

cause you're a hard soul to save

with an ocean in the way

but i'll get around it

he tries to remember jay but no, no, it's slipping away, too fast, so goddamn fast, and he can't grasp it. tim stands, reaching forward as though the memories are real, and he can't. the world around him blurs, buzzes, and the loneliness he feels is almost unbearable.

he feels as though he's lost a limb.

the car seems to far away. about halfway there, tim falls, face first into the grass. the hooded man could be anywhere. so could that faceless son of a bitch that tore his only friend from the world around him, but tim cannot for the life of him bring himself to give a shit. he can't move, he's frozen, and then—

there he is. jay. the memory is there, and he's standing right in front of him.

"jay," he croaks, the words loose in his throat, and he can't bring himself to function. but he's there, he's there, but as much as tim tries to drag himself across the grass, he just keeps getting farther and farther away.

"jay," he says. his friend looks back at him sadly.

"jay," he says, again and again and again and again. "jay. jay. jay. jay, please."

a red stain blemishes in jay's chest area, and he drops to his knees. his eyes are accusing. his face is even paler than usual.

"stay with me, buddy."

over the love of you

but he doesn't, he goddamn doesn't, and he's gone again, but the memory is still there. tim smiles, forlornly, his fingers digging into the grass like hooks, and his eyes are squeezed shut. he flops back, torso up, and places his palms over his eyes.

no light.

just jay.

i can see the green light

i can see it in your eyes