So this was the end, huh?
He'd figured his life would have flashed before his eyes in the movies, or he could have at least made some sort of witty last remark; " Killing me won't bring back your god damn honey!". . Or something like that.
Instead, he just felt numb, tired and sluggish. You'd think it would hurt to be stabbed through the chest, but oddly enough it didn't. He really didn't feel much of anything at that very moment; those last few moments before death. Just tired, really.
His breath was slowing, his lungs filling with blood; his spiffy god tier pajamas were drenched in red, and the puddle around him just kept inching it's way out. He really wished he wasn't alone in his last seconds on Earth. Or, wherever the heck he was; he didn't know or care.
" Hey," something touched his hand, and he tried his best to open his eyes. That voice sounded so familiar, however maimed with pain. " don't die just yet," a pained intake of breath, " I just got here.." He felt fingers loosly lacing into his.
" . .Dave?" His blue eyes were dull, and his vision blurry, but he could make out the familiar shape of his friend, lying before him. He seemed hagard, though, and sporting more red than usual.
" Y-you're. ." His thoughts were too jumbled to finish whatever it was he was going to mention, and choking on his own blood didn't help with speaking.
" Shhh," the blond soothed, gripping his hand tighter, " we're both dying." He admonished through labored breaths. " But. . I didn't wanna go wifout seein' you."
If he hadn't been on the verge of death, he would have commented on how lame or homosexual that sounded. But at that very moment, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever done heard come out of his best bro's mouth.
" Dave. ."
Shakily, he tried to reach his free hand out to grab his friend's shades. Instead, the strength in his arm let out not even half way off the ground. The dark haired boy choked out a little sob, feeling absolutely pathetic. He couldn't even lift his arm anymore. This was such a shitty way to do. .
The time traveller understood what he wanted, and took them off his face himself; in slow, painstaking earnest. He let his hand fall limp after succeeding, shades now loosly grasped in them. His eyes were a deep red; they looked exaughsted, and a little afraid, but otherwise (oddly enough) content. .
" John," his name being called brought him back, " I love you."
The question was soft and shakey, but determined. John stared a little longer, before he could no longer keep his eyes open. The smallest of smiles pulled itself onto his bloodied lips, and he tried to squeeze the clammy hand in his. He didn't have the energy to reply, he knew this was it. Dave understood though; it was all he needed before shutting his eyes as well.