Absence of the Heart

By Kay

Author's Notes: Wow. This is the last one in the fic. *stares blankly* Uh... uh... I... I don't know what to do now! I liked this one, actually! My Christmas fic was basic crap, which when I went through, and unoriginal and bland. (Oooo, speaking of X-Mas fics, I *REALLY* loved yours, Duck-K! ::melts:: EEEEEEEE, poor David...)

Anyway. So. Yeah. This is the end of it. Am v. disappointed. But love you all for sticking through the evil and long waits and bad writing, until the very end! ^_^ *hugs!*

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The hotel room only had one bed.

It was like a horrible sense of deja vu that lingered over them, in Christopher's mind. He couldn't help but recall exactly how this entire night started out-- in a hotel room like this, with a single bed they had shared. Of course, it was different now. They dragged themselves into the room with will alone, exhausted to the bones, Christopher's hand hovering steadily over Jalil's shoulder in case he stumbled. The very air hanging in between them had changed. Same scene, but changed and improved characters.

They didn't say a word. Just collapsed together on the mattress.

After a moment of awkward messing around and shifting, Christopher managed to situate themselves more comfortably-- namely, he sprawled out on his back, leaning up against a thrifty pillow. Jalil, strangely without protest, allowed the blonde to wrap his arms warmly around him. The dark-eyed scientist burrowed his head in Christopher's chest like a pillow, obediently closing his eyes when the blonde murmered for him to sleep.

But the darkness didn't come for a while yet.

"Where do y'think David is?" Christopher finally asked tiredly, blue eyes staring at the cieling. Jalil shrugged, the movement nearly jabbing his bedmate in the ribcage.

"Maybe he's dead."

"That would really suck," was all the blonde managed to say.

"Mm-hmm. That or he's out saving us from being fried," Jalil replied sleepily. Christopher's body was warmer than his own at the moment; he ignored any coherent thoughts and pushed closer to it. Almost sensing that the teenager wanted more heat, Christopher twined their legs together and held him nearer.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you." Jalil's breathing eased off, gradually slipping into sleep as he relaxed. Just as he was about to bridge the gap, he stopped and struggled to lift his head again. Christopher blinked down at him.

"What is it...?"

Jalil studied him for a moment, putting his exhaustion aside. "Why are you acting like this? What's next? What about morning?"

Christopher laughed. "You never stop asking questions, do you?" Careful not to think about it, the blonde slowly began running gentle patterns across Jalil's back. The thin, slender bones beneath his fingertips twitched at the tickling sensation, and he grinned at the annoyed look on the young scientists' face.

"Stop doing that," Jalil said. Then he shook his head, serious and contemplative in a moment's notice. "If I don't know the answers now, I might not get them tomorrow."

"Okay," the blonde said. "I'm acting like this because I want to, next up, we try to hope we make it until morning to worry about it. And if we do, then we worry about it. Okay?"

"No..." Jalil replied doubtfully, biting his lip savagely. "I want to know now."

Exhaustion made Jalil act a lot more like his age, Christopher noted, and he filed the reference away for later use. Pretending to consider the question, he smirked slightly at the cieling. "Oh, I dunno..."

"That's not an answer."

The blonde just shrugged. "Well, it's the truth. I really don't know. I'm kind of having a hard time figuring out anything when I'm this tired..."

The thoughtful look on Jalil's face indicated he was thinking this over, and a few seconds later, he reluctantly nodded. Settling back down, he warned, "Fine. Just don't knock me off the bed when you wake up, got it?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Christopher grinned widely. "At least, I wouldn't have until you told me. It's an idea worth considering, just to see your reaction."

"You wouldn't see my reaction; I'd have already dug your eyes out with a rusty spoon," grumbled Jalil dangerously. He closed his eyes again, relaxing against Christopher despite his words. The blonde watched him sleepily, blue eyes fluttering shut and then opening wide as he struggled to stay awake for a moment longer.

"G'night..."

Jalil smiled slightly, something the blonde felt more than saw. "Uh-huh... shut up and go to sleep, Christopher."

"Gotcha."

True to his word, Christopher obediently faded off, his breathing slowly becoming more rhythmic and smooth. Despite his exhaustion, Jalil felt his mind wander on the edges of sleep, thoughts in his mind still stirring despite his physical need for slumber.

'Well, that wasn't so bad. Look, he even apologized. Sort of.'

Jalil's inner reason snorted. '... moron. Just wait, everything will go back to normal in the morning. And that's the way you want it, isn't it?'

A strange sort of ache responded inside of him, followed by a slow, 'Maybe. I suppose. Who knows anymore? I don't even know if I'll be alive by morning.'

'Let's hope not. You'll probably die of mortification.'

Considering that with detached concern, Jalil merely shook his head. As true as it might be, there were probably worse things to be humiliated over. At least he could get Christopher in on the fault, as well. Maybe there wouldn't be anything to be embarrassed over, though. The morning seemed as alien and foreign as this night had been.

And it was a long way off, too. Any worry he may have had was already fading away.

'Sleep for now,' he told himself. '... and worry about it later.'

And so, for now at the very least, he let the deep haze of sleep rock over him again. Some part of him wondered at the strange sensation of not feeling Christopher's heartbeat through his shirt, where it should be low and pulsing. Instead, he felt only the gentle rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. It was a comforting feeling, none the less, when you got over the fact that neither of them had hearts at the moment.

'Maybe it's true what they say,' his thoughts teased him. 'Absence does make the heart grow fonder. Just look, a couple days without it, and you're already falling in love with an idiot like him!'

'... shut up.' He was not even going to think that over.

Still, a smile tugged at his lips as the welcoming darkness took him in, and the warmth of Christopher next to him lulled him to sleep. He could get used to this.

However. His very last thought would have alerted him, had he truly been thinking it over. Because as he fell asleep, Jalil remembered the one important detail neither of them had thought about. The one thing that they hadn't even mentioned or considered once, as alarming as it was.

'... I wonder how our real world selves will react.'

Of course, he slept, and then it was too late.

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"-- and then, one must consider the severity of President Truman's decisions regarding the dropping of the atom bomb. There have been many points of views throughout the years, each concentrating on the pros and cons of his choices during presidency..."

'God. I'm so... so... bored,' Christopher thought with a mental groan. He slid down in his desk, watching the American History teacher pace in front of the markerboard, lecturing on World War II. So far, he didn't seem to have paused for a breath.

'This guy is unbelievable. Who actually listens to this crap?' he grumbled to himself, glancing down at his scribbles and doodles. A sorry excuse for notes, in other words. Looking around the classroom, everyone was staring off into space with glazed eyes, or a heavily bored expression.

'This... really sucks. And I have no idea what's going on over there, either,' he thought desperately. Days had gone by-- and he hadn't heard anything from his Everworld self. Last time he'd checked, they still didn't have hearts.

For all he knew, they were dead. And that was a really creepy thought.

'Everworld me had better get here soon.'

And then, almost as if some entity had heard his wish, it was granted.

He pressed back in his desk as the alarming rush of words and images ran through his mind. Gripped the edges of his seat.

'Okay. Hearts still rocks. David sick and possibly going to get us killed. Sucks to be m--'

He gaped into thin air.

'... k-k-kiss? Him?!'

"--ourse, the process of rebuilding Japan's homeland was taken over by General MacArthur..." the teacher rambled on, completely ignoring the shocked student in the third row, slackjawed and wide eyed. "Who quickly rebuilt their economic system..."

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

The entire class fell silent. Children whirled around in their seats, staring with wide eyes at the blonde who was currently standing in the middle of the room, staring off into space with horror.

The teacher glared savagely at him. "Christopher Hitchcock! Explain yourself this instant!"

"I... oh, no, no way..." the blonde rambled, glancing around hysterically. "I am not... I mean... oh man, oh man... I'm going... I'm going to..."

"Mr. Hitchcock!"

"I'm going to KILL him!" shrieked Christopher, then running out of the classroom as though a fire was set on his heels. "I-it must have been drugs! Seduction! I was drunk, drunk, please, oh ,man..."

The door slammed behind him.

The class room was silent for five minutes before starting the rumor that Christopher Hitchcock was on his way to the state mental institution.

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Jalil stared in boredom at his chemistry teacher, already having covered everything on this chapter a few nights ago. This review helped the rest of the half-snoring, half-attentive class, but was old news to the young scientist. There was absolutely nothing to do right now.

Plus, there was the added fact that Everworld Jalil hadn't reported back to him for quite a while. Last time he'd checked, he was sleeping in a bed with Christopher, after warning him that, "If you bother me while I'm sleeping, I'll kill you in a thousand methods, each more painful than the next." Then, he was almost certain he was woken up, because he got the strange sensation of a parting. Then again, one was never sure.

Either way, he had no way of knowing what was happening. And he'd prefer to know how close to death he was over there.

(Of course, five minutes later, he prefered not to know what was going on over there.)

Jalil took out his notebook, intent on perhaps continuing a small sketch of a plant he'd seen growing in Everworld while they were walking to Fairy Land.

And that was when Christopher barged in the door.

Silence. The blonde whirled around furiously, before focusing on Jalil and narrowing his eyes. He pointed his finger at him accusingly, barking, "YOU! You did this!"

"... what?" asked Jalil, gaping.

"You seduced me!"

"... what?!"

Christopher glared angrily, blue eyes flashing in defensive rage. He marched over to the dark-eyed student, ignoring the startled and quiet class, and stuck the pointing finger in his face. "You heard me, damn it. You seduced me! You knew I was drunk and took advantage of it! You goddamn, low-life..."

"You!" the teacher suddenly snapped, breaking out of his confused trance. "Whoever you are! What do you think you're doing in my class?!"

"What are you babbling about?!" sputtered Jalil, ignoring the teacher and standing up in his seat to glare up at Christopher's face. Cursing his lack of height compared to the blonde, he stepped back to be able to stare with more intimidation. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"You took advantage of my drunken state, you prick!"

"Of what?! I have no idea what you're talking about!"

The teacher slammed his hands on his desk, roaring at the two arguing boys. "Both of you! Explain yourselves at once!"

Christopher gritted his teeth, stepping up to Jalil purposefully. He scowled, and said slowly, "Have you got your update yet?"

Mind spinning with confusion and irritation, Jalil shook his head. "No," he responded scathingly. "But I don't think this is a good time to bring it up, no."

"It's all your fault!"

Jalil opened his mouth to retort with a burning insult-- and stopped. He fumbled, backing into the desk behind him as images and thoughts whirled through his head.

'... god, I'm going to regret this tomorrow.'

'... not even worth trying to love.'

'Why can't I ignore him?!'

'Absence does make the heart grow fonder...'

Jalil stared blankly at Christopher as the thoughts from his parallel self filled his head. The blonde glared back at him.

"... you..." Jalil began, stammering. "You... we..."

"Yes, Jalil."

"I-I think I need to sit down. Now." Jalil almost fell into his chair with a thud, looking uncharacteristically pale and clueless.

It was then that the overhwelmed class and teacher were present to view Christopher Hitchcock grab a certain Jalil Sherman... and drag him out into the hallway. The dark-eyed student squawked as Christopher snatched a handful of his shirt and propelled him up and away from the rest of the studying class.

"Oh, no you don't. You're coming with me so I can either beat the hell out of you, or so you talk me out of it."

"Christoph-- let go of me!" Jalil struggled in his grip, digging his heels back until they squeaked against the linolium floor tiles. "Stop it! I have class!"

As if remember this fact, the teacher called back, "Hey, stop there! What do you think you're doing?! Mr. Sherman!"

Christopher shoved the thin boy out the door, looking back only to hollar, "Don't worry, I'll give you him back in one piece! Maybe!"

"Mr. SHERMAN!"

The door closed behind them, leaving the chemistry class to start spreading the rumor that Jalil Sherman was going to be in the hospital by tomorrow morning.

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As it was, they both showed up three hours later for last period. Christopher, with an uncomfortable yet pleased flush to his face, and a rumpled shirt. Jalil looking very irritated, embarrassed, and somehow giddy with his tiny grin.

"We worked things out in the end," Jalil explained to his alarmed friends. "It was an old fight we had to get through, that's all."

Christopher told everyone, "I had some unfinished business, and thought I'd make a dramatic exit out of the classroom instead of just skipping."

Of course...

If anyone wondered about why their bruises didn't exactly look like fistfight effects, no one mentioned it.

Nor did they mention their strange new habit of eating together at lunch sometimes.

And they never, never questioned why Christopher suddenly decided to stop drinking.

Well, at least alone.

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THE END! Of everything! Aaahhh! I... I don't like it. But oh well.

I posted my Animorphs slash fics, and was flamed. *sighs* Am very upset right now. But I won't take them done, no matter what-- somewhere out there, there has to be someone who would enjoy the bad writing, right? They're pretty old. But I still like one of them. OH well.

... flames suck. Spent half an hour crying. Am *such* a sensitive idiot.

Anyway-- hope you enjoyed this, for what it's worth! *hugs* Now I can focus on my other series! YAY! Unless you want a sequel... though I really don't think I can do one without ideas...

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