Lithium, Chapter III

My Immortal

Cold. That's what he was, cold. Not the refreshing kind of cold one would get during summer, or spring, but the kind of unwelcoming, gripping, and sneaking kind of cold that often wrapped around someone until they were numb.

Shivering slightly and involuntarily, Dustin attempted to pull the covers closer when he noticed a heavy weight holding it back. He pulled harder, not being able to identify this sudden weight. Finally, he turned around and noticed it was indeed a sleeping form. His eyes adjusted, then strained as he tried to remember who could possibly be lying in his bed with a wide back turned to him. Memories flooded back to him.

«Memories of the Night Before»

"I-I'm sorry. I just thought maybe you'd want to learn it, Dustin," Hunter said softly, having found Dustin laying in his room, deep in thought.

"It's not your fault, I just-I don't want to talk to her, Hunter, I want to be with her," replied Dustin, not lifting his head to speak and causing him to sound muffled from the pillow in his face.

"Well you can't, Dustin; it's not-that easy," Hunter explained, cautiously taking a seat next to his sulking friend.

"Whatever," Dustin sighed, turning to look the other way.

Hunter was beginning to annoy him, to be honest. Sure, it helped that he was home. Sure, it helped that he wanted to be a shoulder. And sure, it helped that he was trying to understand. But, it didn't help that he was constantly trying to get him to come to grips with his emotions all at once. It didn't help that he was practically forcing him to get over his mother's death. And it sure as hell didn't help that Hunter wouldn't leave him alone.

Hunter was silent, watching—"almost studying—"Dustin's laying form. Although his younger teammate was being thoroughly difficult, uncharacteristically depressed, and childishly brash, he still captured innocence and purity in their essences. His head was pressed under one pillow while sitting softly on another while his arms were stretched over the top pillow, forming a sort of hollow for his head. In a way, it was like he was trying to shelter himself from the rest of the world.

Hunter knew that feeling all to well. When he was still grieving—"although he never actually stopped—"he would sometimes put his head under water where no noise could bother him. It was his solitary confinement—"his solitude. He could still remember the day he last did it.

«The Confession Memory»

It was shortly after their graduation from the academy, and although the mood was mostly jovial, he knew he was pressed with one confession—"one clenching, fear-striking secret that he just had to get off his chest. And with the proper drinks to loosen him up, some prodding from his adoptive younger brother, he'd mustered up the courage.

"Hey Dus-Dustin-can I talk to you man?" he asked, his voice ragged with fatigue and a bit of hidden desire.

Dustin turned his attention to Hunter, the smile still plastered on his face from the dry joke Cam had just finished.

"Yeah, sure dude," he replied, drinking from his red Silo brand cup.

Hunter swallowed several times as he walked away towards Tori's front yard. They'd decided to have a going away party for Blake and himself, and Tori's house seemed as good as any, especially since her parents were out of town.

"What's up, Hunter?" Dustin asked, setting his cup on a porch ledge.

Hunter swallowed again. His mouth felt like an arid wasteland, or like he'd just swallowed a gallon of peanut butter.

"I-I've got something I' been wantin' to tell you for awhile," he slurred out.

Not now he thought to himself, not wanting the alcohol to hit him so hard.

"Sure," Dustin said, still unaffected by his friend's strange behavior.

Clearing his throat, Hunter tried again, "I' been thinkin'n'all, ya know, bout leavin' and not seein' people for a long time. So Blake thought it'd be a good idea for me to say so tonight."

That doesn't sound right Hunter corrected himself in his head. He saw Dustin look at him somewhat funny.

"Hunter, you don't look like you're feeling too good," Dustin spoke quietly, taking a step closer.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine. I ju—"I just wanna tell you something" he said again.

"So tell me, Hunter," Dustin urged, his nonchalant attitude substituted for concern.

"I'm gettin' there, I'm gettin'' there," Hunter answered, waving his hand at Dustin in a dismissing fashion.

He took a deep breath, swayed a bit, and then cleared his throat.

"I like you."

Dustin rolled his eyes, "Hunter, shut up, that's not funny. We've already talked about this, remember?"

Hunter took a wavy step forward, "N-no, really, I do."

"No, you don't, you're drunk."

"So?"

"So, I'm not going to listen to you while there are a bunch of drinks talking for you. We both agreed we wouldn't get our emotions involved" Dustin said wisely, attempting to pull Hunter into the house.

"Nooooooooo," Hunter groaned, pulling away and almost falling on the dew-covered lawn, "Listen to me."

"NO!" Dustin shouted angrily, "You can't like me. It doesn't happen that way, okay?"

Hunter looked confused, "W-what?"

Dustin turned his back to Hunter, pacing up the porch, then grabbing his cup and downing the contents.

"You wanna know why, Hunter? I'll tell you why—"because best friends don't sleep with each other and pretend it never happened. Best friends don't ignore each others feelings and continue to abuse them! And mostly, Hunter, Best friends don't fall in love with each other! Especially when they're guys like you and me!"

Hunter blinked a few times, then he hiccupped.

"You-love me?"

Dustin's face contorted into a look of frustration, almost a plea. In a flash of rage, he threw the small red cup towards Hunter.

"Yes! Okay?! Yes! I fucking love you, you goddamned idiot!" he yelled,

Hunter swallowed a few times, his sobriety almost within his grasp.

"I-I never didn't know," he stammered.

Dustin shook his head, the situation all too incredulous for him...

"You're so damned drunk," he muttered, "And I just spilled my feelings out to you; but it won't matter because you won't even remember tomorrow morning."

"N-no, I'll remember, I promise," Hunter said, giving a haphazard smile.

He swayed a bit, his eyes bulged a little, and then he finally mumbled out "Oh shit" before whatever was in his stomach came tumbling out. Whatever happened afterward had brought them incredibly close, finally sealing them emotionally together.

How he remembered that night, Hunter didn't know. Maybe it was because Dustin had told him the story several times since it happened; or maybe it was because it was the first time Dustin said he loved him. Whatever it was, he'd never needed to suppress his emotions—he'd never needed his solitude after that. It just seemed like knowing that someone else loved him made everything—"the good and the bad—"seem worth while and appreciative.

"Dustin-I know I can't ever fill in for your mom, or give you half the things she could, but just know that people do love you. I love you," he whispered.

And that was all it took for the brunet male to spill his tears.

«Present»
Dustin rubbed his head, sitting up in the bed. Whatever had happened after his tear-jerker session had obviously ended them up in the same bed. Whatever time that had happened escaped him, and any other activities he may have ventured off to also skittered out of his comprehensive reach.

Then again; maybe that didn't matter. After all, in the quietness of the room, he could hear his own thoughts-for once. And although the room was dark, lit only by the faint, iridescent red glow of his annoying digital clock, there seemed to be a resonating glow emitting from random places in the room. When he unknowingly turned toward Hunter, the light source was obvious; for around him was an unmistakable aura shining brilliantly among all that was dark and imposing in Dustin's room. Maybe having Hunter around really would bring Dustin out of his depression and slowly push the Lithium away. Slowly, but surely.