He was suspended, in a limbo. Is this what death feels like?
He tried to move his body, only to find that it was restrained and heavy. He was no longer in pain, neither was he numb from the pain. It was a different sort of numbness – an odd sense of weakness that permeated every single nerve in his body. It was as though his mind was completely disjointed from his body. Strangely enough, the way he was suspended in the numbed stillness was an immense comfort to him. There was no pain, no sorrow, no Eric, nothing. There was just him and his thoughts in the quiet of the dark. He could live with that and simply stay in that state. I could stay here forever.
As he drifted, he heard soft, muffled noises, voices of people. He could not make out any comprehensible words, let alone sentences from these voices – they were but small little vocalizations barely audible to his ears. As soon as the soft sounds came, they left, flitting in and out like slow, pulsating beats.
Nothing of note occurred for the longest time. The closest he had gotten to consciousness was a small event that helped him realize that he was very much alive, and still very much connected to reality. He had no idea how long he had been drifting, or how many times the soft sounds surrounding him came and went. At some point of time, voices echoed through his head again, this time neither as soft as before nor as momentary as before.
Two familiar voices were railing against each other – a man's voice, rough, agitated and loud, against a woman's, shrill and high. Luke and Jenn. How nostalgic. Did I go back in time?
The voices grew louder and clearer. They're arguing. About me. I already can remember how this goes. Jenn says something amongst the lines of –
"God – It's a miracle he's even alive! And you didn't even – bother – to call me the first thing you do? I'm his sister, for Christ's sake!"
Nailed it. And Luke's going to say –
"I didn't know what to do, okay! He's my little brother as much as he is yours! If you were worried, I sure as hell am!"
Poor Luke. You're worried, I know, but being stubborn about this isn't going to save yourself with Jenn. She's equally as stubborn. She'll tell you –
"That's a damned fine excuse! What're you going to do, call me only if he dies? Or even better, are you just going to keep it from me forever?"
Luke isn't going to. He'd tell you –
"I wasn't! For fuck's sake, Jenn, I called you later than I should have, but you were the first person I called – because I thought you were the first person who deserved to know!"
"I'm afraid I'll have to stop you two here," A stern voice cut in. Here comes the nurse. "You two are too loud, and you are disturbing the other patients."
"This is none of your business!" The two voices yelled in unison, before apologizing in a smaller voice. "Sorry."
Hm. That's exactly how it went. Me, lying there, barely conscious, listening to you two lovebirds fight it out, listening to how the rift between you two started to form. Neither of you know how terrible it felt when I heard eight years of love start to tear apart at the seams. About a year more and you two wouldn't even look at each other anymore. Believe me, the night you idiots broke up, I didn't know who to side with, because I loved you both so much.
The voices did not end there. After a long silence, Jenn's voice echoed out once more, softer, calmer and sadder.
"We've been through this before, and we're fighting again over the same thing. We're not even together anymore."
I don't remember this, Jonathan thought as he drifted, and he tried to listen closer.
"It's so stupid. We're so stupid. You know that?" Luke murmured. "The same damn thing over the same damn idiot, ten years down the road. It almost felt like we never broke up or grew up for a second there."
"Don't even mention that. Your girlfriend's going to be upset with you if she knows I'm here."
"Hannah's gonna understand."
"No, she's not." Jenn snapped sharply at Luke. "She's going to wonder if we've got any lingering feelings for each other, which I'm sure we don't. And I would've gone out of my way to stay away and never think or talk about you ever again, but you're his best friend. You and his other friends are all that he can talk about, and I'm too old to be that sensitive and flinch at the mention or the thought of you."
"Hannah's gonna understand," Luke repeated. "She'll understand because she understands that."
"Don't," Jenn drew a deep breath, "Just don't. I know she will be. No matter how understanding she is, you can't stop her from feeling just a small bit worried at first. If she loves you, there will always be a part of her that's wondering."
Luke fell silent, at a loss.
The noises around him soon faded into nothingness, and he was once again thrust into the void. It was a lot quieter now, the pulsing of sounds much less frequent and much softer than before. Jonathan wondered to himself how long this unusual heaven would last. It was odd not being able to talk to Luke, or to play games with his friends, yet he felt completely in place and absolutely at peace. It was like he was having a long-needed rest after all the chaos and all the events that had happened.
The pulsing continued on, with snippets of his surroundings being made audible to him every once in a while. It was almost as though he was drifting in and out of consciousness without ever opening his eyes or seeing the world around him. How comfortable.
Voices came and went with the pulses. He heard Luke's voice against Jenn's voice, Luke's voice against Hannah's voice, Jenn's voice with his parent's, each time with a similar line of conversation – how it was a miracle he even survived, how badly he was injured, how worried they were, how they wondered if he's ever going to wake up from his comatose state. He heard the words "fractures", "lacerations" and "concussion" a couple of times, yet he could feel none of the said injuries. All he could do, and all that he gladly did, was to wait, drifting about in a cool darkness.
At some point, new, yet familiar voices came within earshot. A man and a woman. The man's voice was soft, boyish at times, and the woman's voice was high and delicate. Why are you here?
"He looks… so beat up," she whispered sadly. "He looked so happy and well when we last saw him."
"I know," he answered her, distressed, his voice cracking slightly. "God… I've always seen him so happy and heard him laughing so happily. I never thought I'd ever see him like this – so quiet, so broken…"
"The doctors say he's going to be fine… eventually. Things may look bleak now, but he's probably resting up and slowly recovering," she coaxed softly.
"I'm so sorry I brought you all the way here to see this," he murmured. "I couldn't stand worrying…"
"It's okay. We have to do all this together, it's a sign of our love. Besides…treat it as a pre-wedding honeymoon. Once he gets up and gets well, we'll go see the mountains together – just the two of us."
You shouldn't even be here, Evan. You and Sarah should be at home in L.A., planning your wedding together. You should be getting married, not wasting your time with me.
A soft, high yawn. "I'm sorry."
"You're tired," Evan murmured in a low voice. "You should get back to the hotel and get some sleep."
"And you? You've been up since last night."
"I'll be here watching him. In case he wakes up and gets scared or something."
"I'll… get going then. Get some rest yourself, either way," Sarah replied, her tone odd and hesitant. Soft, almost inaudible creaking filled the air as she left the room.
Something pressed down on his hands, warm and whole. If Jonathan could have jumped, he would have instantly done so at the sensation. He could feel his body. He was no longer suspended, but lying down in a mass of softness. His limbs felt heavy and numb, yet the feeling on his hands was intensely pleasant. He tried to wrap his mind around the object that was pressing down on his hands – they were warm, slightly rough, bony at certain points, and long and large, just enough to act like gloves for his hands. Realization began to dawn upon him – they were hands, familiar hands and familiar fingers holding onto his. Evan's hands are on mine. He's holding my hands, just like when we skated together.
A part of him wished to look, to be able to see Evan's hands on his and know that Evan was there, showering him with care. Another part of him wished to never know, to never feel the slightest hint of hope from Evan's actions. A bittersweet feeling blossomed from the warmth of their hands.
"Please wake up, Jonathan," He heard Evan whisper, each word dripping with endless worry and pain. He felt Evan's hands tighten its grip on his.
"We're all worried about you. Everybody's worried. Luke looks like he hasn't slept in days, and Hannah's dozing off even just standing. Your sister's practically living off the coffee machine and I think she's beginning to lose it. And Sarah and I…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "Sarah and I… we freaked when we heard. First thing I thought of doing was to come and see you. I hoped that you would be fine when I landed, that you would be sitting upright, shit-eating grin on your face, eating whatever's on your plate with a healthy appetite. I hoped that you would be fine, perfectly fine."
He let out a deep, heavy sigh. "And here you are, lying here, so still. I miss hearing your laugh, Jonathan. That laugh that reminds me every single day of how much fun we've had together, the laugh that reminds me every day of how special a person you are. And without you… and that laugh… it's so strange, Jonathan. So please… wake up soon. Wake up and laugh like you always do."
I wish I could, Evan. I wish I could – but even if I woke up, I don't think I can laugh.
The sounds around him faded out once more, and he could no longer feel his body. He was drifting once more, suspended in the unknown. It was an odd feeling to be alone in the darkness now, knowing that Evan sat beside him, waiting for him to open his eyes. He wanted desperately to see the warm, dark chocolate brown eyes gaze down into his own, a guilty pleasure of sorts. He wanted to hear more from Evan, to hear that voice that he had grown so accustomed to hearing over the years. Listening to Evan make that little speech over his body reminded him of something that he had suppressed for some time – the sheer joy of being around Evan, hearing him talk and laugh and listening to his bad puns. He was beginning to miss everything they had done as friends and more – yet the feeling did not come without guilt and heartache. He missed Evan, yet he dared not to hope for him.
Seconds, minutes, hours… perhaps even days had passed – it felt all the same to Jonathan. The drifting continued, but the pulsing was becoming increasingly frequent, and with each pulse, he could feel more and more of his body, and experienced more and more of his surroundings. Each time he become aware of his physical surroundings, he discovered something new – the sensations on his fingertips, the feeling of bandages constricting his head, a leg and his arms. He was regaining control of his body, bit by bit, and was being pulled back into reality, away from the distant darkness that he had sunken himself into.
The darkness began to dissolve. Light was peeking through his eyelids, almost painfully so. He was awake, conscious. All he had to do now was to open his eyes, and he would be back in his own world, in his own body, in his own miserable life.
He felt a hand gently stroke the hair on his head, each long finger running through the strands silently, affectionately. A soft, weary sigh escaped the person's lips. "I'm sorry."
Time to wake up, it seems.
He slowly lifted his heavy lids, allowing the bright light into his eyes as gently as he could. He frowned as the light painfully hit him, and a blur of colors began to slowly come into focus, taking shapes with clear, distinct edges beginning to form. When his eyes fully opened, he began to focus on small little patterns around him as they became sharper – the texture of the rough, painted ceiling, the smooth, metallic surface of a dimmed lamp above.
It was then that something came into view – something that made his heart beat slightly faster, something that made him feel inexplicable joy. A pair of dark brown eyes peeked into his field of vision, concerned and bloodshot with exhaustion.
"Jonathan?" Evan whispered softly, hope rolling through his handsome features. "Are you awake? Can you see me?"
Jonathan shuddered slightly as he took a deep breath, his chest aching slightly as his lungs expanded for the sudden intake of more air. "Evan," he breathed through his chapped lips, his voice barely forming in his throat. The first thing I saw had to be you.
"Oh, god…just… just relax," Evan murmured, barely able to keep the excitement and relief out of his voice. The hand that was once on his head shifted away as Evan pressed on a button somewhere above Jonathan's head near a lit lamp, and Evan straightened up, fingers trailing across the sides of the bed, allowing his body to come into full view. It was at that point that Jonathan began to notice that dark circles had developed under Evan's eyes from the utter lack of sleep, and he was barely even able to stand perfectly straight, his legs looking as though they might buckle and give way at any point of time.
A creak resounded from the doorway as a nurse, all dressed in white pushed through the darkness. Upon noticing Jonathan's movements and conscious state, she strutted over to the bedside and calmly shone a bright flashlight into Jonathan's eyes, causing him to squint slightly.
"Okay, dear, how are you feeling?" She queried softly, her tone motherly.
"Weird and numb," Jonathan croaked. "Heavy."
"Could you move your right hand for me, please? Right hand onto left shoulder. Slowly."
Jonathan wiggled the fingers on his right hand slowly, and gingerly lifted his less-bandaged right arm up to her, and tapped his left shoulder gently, avoiding the heavy amounts of bandaging on his left arm. As the nurse nodded, she continued –
"Do you know where you are?"
"The hospital."
The nurse nodded once more, and took a short look at a monitor near her before she started once again.
"Your vital signs look fine, and you seem to be responding well. Be careful about your arms and your legs, and make sure your breathing is slow and steady. Let me know if you need anything else or if the pain gets too serious."
She left the ward quickly, her footsteps lightly trilling off into the distance.
Jonathan looked back over at Evan, who was staring at him expectantly, a small tired smile etched upon his face. His usually-spiky hair was now worn down and flattened on his head in a faux comb-over, adding to the sense of fatigue that he was giving off.
"You look like shit," Jonathan whispered.
"Yeah, I probably do," Evan replied sheepishly. "But you look terrible, dude. You looked even worse asleep."
Jonathan smiled at him weakly. "How bad am I?"
He watched as Evan frowned, lines forming on his tired face. "Concussion, broken left arm and leg, your right side is pretty battered as well and you've got a few bruised ribs."
"Funny." Jonathan smiled, unsure why he felt strangely humored by the conversation. He felt like giggling and laughing, but his chest ached slightly even as he breathed.
Evan cocked his head to the side, mildly amused. "You're really doped up, huh?"
"I think so. Why're you here?"
The small smile vanished from his lips. "Luke texted us saying you just got beaten up and sent into the hospital. I needed to be here for a good friend."
"So… you flew all the way here just so you could make sure I'm alive."
"…Yeah." Evan looked away, biting his lip. "Besides, Sarah wanted to see North Carolina at some point. It'll be a nice trip for her."
"You guys shouldn't even be here. You've got a wedding to plan. And… well, in this state, I'm a curse to couples. The last time a couple stuck around when I was in the hospital, they broke up."
Evan chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that was totally a curse. Look, you got your Christmas ruined for you. I'm here to fix that and make your New Year a happy one, okay?"
"Oh shit, it's the New Year now? How the hell long have I been out?"
Evan laughed louder, and gently returned to stroking Jonathan's hair gently. "It's only the twenty-eighth of December. Well, twenty-ninth, now that it's past midnight. You've been out for three days so far."
"Felt like it might've been forever." Jonathan sighed, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of Evan's fingers running through the soft locks on his head.
After a short pause, Evan began again, his tone serious this time. "From what I heard from Luke and from the looks of you, this looks like the work of a gang."
"Mmm-hmm?" Jonathan hummed softly in response.
"Jonathan, please. You remember what I told you back in L.A. … so please, if you're in a gang, or if you've pissed off some gang leader –"
"Evan," Jonathan said loudly, interrupting him. "I'm not in a gang, okay? And I – well, I can't say I haven't pissed off someone before. I just happened to be in a bad place at a bad time."
"Really?" Evan narrowed his eyes at him. "Because whoever it was looks like he meant business. Even if you got unlucky… this person seems to have wanted you dead. He knew you. And you probably knew him, too."
Jonathan opened his eyes once more, looking into Evan's dark eyes as it pierced him with an intense, yet drained glare. There was no point in hiding it from him – not when Evan knew him that well.
"Don't tell Luke. He won't ever get off my ass if he knew."
"So you do know him then. The entire gang attack wasn't entirely coincidental."
"But it was – I was really in the wrong place at the wrong time," Jonathan struggled to explain. "I could've taken a wrong turn elsewhere, and ended up in some other gang territory, but I just had to turn up in Eric's area."
"What did you do to him?" Evan asked gravely. "What made him hate you so much?"
"I… I sent him to jail once. Ten years ago." Jonathan bit his lip, staring at Evan directly in the eye whilst hoping that Evan wouldn't pry further. "I don't know when he got out, but I think I might've ruined his life."
"Why –"
"Look," Jonathan cut him off. "Evan, you're tired. It really doesn't matter that much. You've got to see me wake up. I'm fine now. All I've got left to do is to recover and start walking and using my hands again. Go home and get some sleep, dude."
Evan stared at him for the longest time, his eyes blank, before shrugging and giving up. He walked away and sank himself onto a couch nearby, laying his body onto the soft cushions.
"What are you doing?" Jonathan probed. "I said go home and get some sleep."
"My home's more than two thousand miles away," Evan murmured sleepily. "The next best thing is right here next to a good friend."
"I thought the next best thing was in the hotel room with Sarah."
"I'm too tired to go all the way back there. I'll crash the car and it isn't even mine." Evan sounded as though he was already half-asleep. "And… Jonathan? You've got to tell Luke someday. About… whoever that guy…is…"
His words dragged off into a soft snore as he lay there on the couch fast asleep. His lips parted slightly, loosely as his facial muscles relaxed, leaving Jonathan staring wistfully at the unobtainable man that he loved so much.
"How much fucking longer do I have to stay here?" Jonathan whined, pouting his lips like a child. "The food sucks and I miss my own comfy bed. And the place smells terrible."
"Stop whining about it, you're being such a baby," Jenn snapped bluntly. "We're not even sure if you're well enough to get out of bed yet."
He heard Evan snort slightly in a corner as he tried to suppress a laugh, and Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch beside him.
"Actually, if he's not happy with where he is, we can ask insist for a discharge," Luke said a matter-of-factly. "The doctor can take a look at him and see if he can recover at home, and then we can just take him home and let him recover happily. He'll probably heal faster that way, too."
Jenn turned towards Luke, raising an eyebrow, and the atmosphere in the room became extremely intense, as though Luke had dropped a bomb in the middle of the room. Uh oh.
"And what if something terrible happens to him, huh? Are you going to take responsibility for it? Oh, I forgot. You don't know how to deal with it." Jenn replied darkly.
"God damn it, Jenn, I said we'd get a doctor to give him the green light first. And if anythin' goes wrong we send him straight back here!"
A pair of meek hazel eyes peeked in through the doorway, with a distressed expression on whatever else was visible of Hannah's face. Jonathan gave her a small, understanding smile, just as the bomb in the room exploded, sending Jenn and Luke into another yelling match –
"This is my younger brother we're talking about, Luke, I'm not fucking risking his damn life because he's acting like a spoilt brat!"
"He evidently ain't happy here, how the fuck d'you expect him to recover any faster? It's a couple of broken bones and a few deep cuts, and maybe his head might be still a little fucked up. Don't you dare act like he ain't a little brother to me too!"
"ARE YOU DOWNPLAYING MY BROTHER'S –"
"Both of you, SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jonathan yelled, discomfort in his chest from the agitation. Luke and Jenn quietened down, their mouths hanging open slightly, and looked at him with a stunned look in their eyes.
Jonathan took a slow, deep breath and began again, satisfied with the attention. "If you both want to continue your bickering, take it outside. Even better, take it where I can't see or hear you both, because number one, you guys aren't together anymore and will never be together ever again, and number two, you guys fucking aren't teenagers anymore, so stop acting like fucking annoying teenagers. So go make yourselves useful and go buy me something sweet to drink or something, and get the fuck out of here."
The pair shot a look at each other, exchanging an understanding, before shuffling reluctantly out of the room. Evan stared after them, before turning his eyes back to Jonathan, caught between awe and amusement.
"What?" Jonathan asked.
"You shut them up," he laughed softly. "I've never seen you like that before. Rather, I've never seen you get this annoyed before. It's kinda cute. And scary, but well, still kinda cute."
"Shut up and try to get me out of here, Evan." Jonathan sighed as he felt the red trickle across his cheeks. "I'm sick of being in here."
Evan sidled out of the room, and his place was soon replaced by Hannah.
"Thank you," she murmured shyly, her lips curving into a small smile.
"No problem," Jonathan returned her smile. "Do you feel weird being around Jenn knowing that she and Luke used to be together?"
Hannah sighed. "They're so similar… I can't help but wonder if that was how they were like when they were together back then, too. The way they fight is almost like an old married couple. And I'm just someone that Luke picked up along the way."
"You're not. He loves you, and you know that. He's done with Jenn, they're through. They broke up for a reason – you can't have two lions prowling around on the same mountain. Or at least, you can't have two people constantly turning the other into a lion living with each other. It's what broke them."
"Still… I can't help but feel like I shouldn't be here, around them two. Even if I knew that they were done, once and for all… I can't shake off the feeling that they might just… not for a while."
Jonathan looked down at his bandaged arms. "I can't say I know how you feel. But if anything…what the two of us need is hope, so… let's hope together."
A silence fell upon them both as a man clad in a white coat made his way into the room, explaining hurriedly that he had to do a thorough check to ensure that Jonathan was perfectly okay before he could allow him to be discharged. Evan failed to appear until much later, settling back down on the couch as he entered the room once more, giving Jonathan a small confident smile and a quick thumbs up. The doctor began to work over him and ramble about what he had to know and what he faced if he did discharge, and Jonathan nodded every once in a while, barely listening, all the while not being able to tear his eyes away from Evan.
"Alright," the doctor spoke as he finished his checks. "You seem well enough, no alarming signs of any other serious issues with your injuries. If you do insist, you are free to go. All that's left is to sign the papers for discharge, a couple of sessions of physiotherapy, and the removal of your stitches and casts. The arm, the leg and your ribs may hurt quite a bit, but it should be fine. Mild headaches are also to be expected, but at the first sign of hemorrhaging, I want you back here, understood?"
Jonathan nodded, and the man left the room.
"I'll go sign the papers for your discharge. I'll call Luke to inform him, too," Hannah announced, leaving Jonathan alone with Evan once again. Evan stood, and made his way over to Jonathan, coming uncomfortably close. Jonathan felt his heart break into the race beneath the hospital gown as Evan reached over behind him, pulling on the strings of the gown.
"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked, voice barely coming out of his throat.
"Helping you change. You're not going to walk out of here in a paper-thin hospital gown with your ass hanging out, are you?"
"I don't, but I'm pretty sure I don't have clothes to change into," Jonathan noted as Evan gently pulled his right arm out of the sleeve of the gown, exposing a portion of Jonathan's bare body to the cold air of the ward. "Even if someone could somehow salvage my clothes from Christmas Day, I don't think I can pull the jeans over my leg."
"They saved your coat, at the very least. You'll need that for later. But right now," Evan pulled a heavily bandaged arm out from another sleeve, "I have a good enough solution for you."
"What, strip me naked and send me home like that? I'd love that." Jonathan replied sarcastically, the furious blush beginning to return to his cheeks as he realized that he was becoming increasingly bare in front of Evan.
"You're not going to go home naked, I swear," Evan mumbled, and Jonathan could have sworn he saw a rush of red on his face as he turned away to retrieve a package that had mysteriously appeared on the couch, and he pulled a pair of large navy sweatpants out of the package alongside a white shirt that looked like it might be a few sizes too big for Jonathan.
"None of those are gonna fit," Jonathan whined as he realized what Evan had in mind.
"It's good enough for your state. You can't expect to wear your regular clothes with a cast on your entire left side. Now quit whining and help yourself a little."
"How?" Jonathan whined further, a part of him enjoying the annoyed look that Evan gave him when the tone crept into his voice. "I'm a one-armed bandit."
"Help me when I pull it over your arm," Evan motioned, as he sought out a sleeve and pulled it over Jonathan's left arm slowly, and the two spent a moment shifting his bandaged arm about to fit through the sleeve of the shirt.
"That should do it," Evan commented, looking as though he had just been through a great ordeal. He promptly wrapped the rest of the shirt over Jonathan's head and body, dressing his torso in record speed, with Jonathan barely doing any work. As the fabric came past his face, he caught a whiff of what was possibly the cleanest, most attractive scent on the planet.
Once the shirt was completely on his body, Jonathan gave Evan an inquisitive look and asked, "Whose clothes are these?"
"Mine. Kind of. I wear these mainly after gym time. I wanted to change into it earlier but then you asked to go home, so…I suppose it wouldn't go to waste, now."
"Figured. It's huge." Jonathan said as he fiddled with the hem of the shirt.
"It's comfortable," Evan corrected. "I need to get your leg into these pants, so spread your legs a little."
Jonathan snickered, trying hard not to laugh as Evan flushed upon realization at how terribly suggestive his comment had sounded. "Okay, that sounded wrong, but you get the idea."
Jonathan did as instructed, albeit uncomfortably so. The fact that Evan was dressing him was dangerous enough, and the fact that Jonathan himself loved the man and was incredibly attracted to him did not help the situation at all. The idea that he had completely nothing underneath the hospital gown that was now bundled at his waist and the possibility that Evan might catch a glimpse of his body flicked a switch in his head, and he became more alert than ever.
"I'll do it myself!" He nearly yelled as he sat upright abruptly, his right hand shooting up to stop Evan. A sharp pain surged through his chest from the sudden motion and agitation. Evan stilled, alarm soaking in as Jonathan winced painfully.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," Jonathan breathed softly, clutching ribs gently. "I'll – I'll do it myself."
"You sure you don't need my help?" Evan asked, concerned. "At least let me help you pull it through the one leg."
"Maybe just that," Jonathan muttered, mentally willing his heart to slow down. "Just… be careful."
Evan nodded slowly, and gingerly threaded Jonathan's bandaged leg through a pant leg. His actions became increasingly slow and increasingly hesitant, as though he was beginning to realize something as he moved the fabric up Jonathan's leg and onto his thigh, his fingers stilling and hovering over the pale flesh for a second before he snapped his head up, gesturing for Jonathan to take over. He turned away, walking towards a window and busying himself by slowly drawing the curtains, giving Jonathan the privacy he needed to push his other leg through and pull the sweatpants all the way up to his waist.
"Honey, we're home," Jonathan giggled, calling out into the empty house as he was wheeled in by Luke and Evan. Jenn rolled her eyes at him as she shuffled past him with a large thermos flask in her hands.
"You don't have a honey, shut up."
"Tch, Jenn, you don't have a sense of humor."
"Don't need one, I'm pissed as it is. I don't think we need so many people here now, do we?"
"Jenn –"
"You two, go do your own thing with your girlfriends. You've done your bit, go!" Jenn commanded, talking over Jonathan. "I don't want any more than two people taking care of my brother at any point of time. You got him out of hospital, you make sure he gets ample rest. And that starts now. So go."
Jonathan looked around quietly, first at Jenn, then at Luke and Evan, and he sighed. "She's right, I suppose. You guys… go do your stuff. Go to Hannah. And spend time with Sarah, or the trip will be wasted for her."
Luke rolled his eyes and walked out of the door grumpily. Evan, however, stood hesitating for a moment, before muttering that he'll be back to visit soon, before he too left the house, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Jenn pulled the coat that was draped loosely on his shoulders off him, and sighed softly to herself. "I saw you with this coat on on Christmas, standing in front of me, playing with Gina, talking dreamily about Evan. Now you're here, coat barely on you, in a wheelchair with broken arms and legs, staring dreamily at Evan's ass."
"I'm not staring." Jonathan returned, pouting slightly.
"Yeah, and he's not stealing glances at your pretty face or at your ass, either." Jenn rolled her eyes once more. "You two are the biggest liars I've ever met to date. You two look good together, so hurry up and give Gina her new uncle already."
"Jenn…"
"Don't worry, I'll be back to see you," Jenn mimicked. "And, god, the way he looks at you. Tell me that's not a man who has the hots for you. He practically looks at you like you're the brightest thing in the room, or like he's dying of thirst and you're the only thing that can quench his thirst."
"You're making it sound more than it actually is, Jenn."
She smirked. "Go ahead, lie to yourself more. I haven't been wrong most of the time since I've had Gina."
"Jenn, he has Sarah. He loves her and he's going to marry her."
"Suit yourself. I can say that I think he loves you more, but I can't change your mind, and neither can I change his." Jenn shrugged and folded up his coat, leaving it on the couch as she walked into the kitchen area. Behind the kitchen counter, she popped open the thermos flask, and an unappealing scent wafted through the air, causing Jonathan to wrinkle his nose.
"Aw, man," he complained, "More hospital food?"
"You're sick, deal with it. In other news, I can't give you a shower even though you stink for obvious reasons, so I'll probably get Luke to do it. Even better, maybe I should get Evan to do it. You'll like that, won't you?" She winked deviously.
"Shut up," Jonathan growled at her as she approached with a bowl of steaming plain gruel. He glanced down at it, flinching. "That looks terrible. Couldn't you have added a little corn or pumpkin in it?"
"I would've, but I can't do much while worrying about my baby brother," she teased. "Okay, I admit, I'm not the best at making food for the sick and injured, but can't you show the slightest appreciation for me?"
Jonathan made a face, thinking back to the previous month with Evan caring for him when he was sick. He was ill and his head was heavy, but Evan's presence and Evan's care made him feel much better, possibly even better than when he wasn't ill.
"Yeah, I know," Jenn answered his unspoken thoughts. "I'm not as good as Evan."
"How did you –"
"I told you before. I'm your sister, and I'm a mother. There's nothing I can't see when it comes to you. So tell me about it – he did something like this for you at some point?"
"I fell sick once in L.A…. and well, he came over and made soup and took care of me, stuff like that."
Jenn laughed softly. "I see why you and Sarah are both crazy about him, then. He sounds like a complete dreamboat. Most of all, I think he's the right person for you. At least, that's the way I see it."
"What's the point?" Jonathan retorted sadly. "He didn't choose me. It's Sarah he chose. Whatever he feels, even if there's a slight chance that he did feel something for me, I'm not the person he wants."
Jenn cocked an eyebrow, amused. "Really? He came all the way out here because you were hurt. Nobody else in your little circle of friends did that – they sent their well wishes and gifts and did what they could to support you while you're down without disrupting their everyday lives. Evan dropped everything and came to see you. This is a man that has a lot to do, and a wedding to plan on top of it. Are you sure he didn't choose you?"
Jonathan bit his lip, falling silent. Jenn smiled triumphantly at him and slid a makeshift table adjusted to his height towards him with the bowl of gruel atop it. He ate in silence, thinking deeply about her words – did he really choose me?
"Take your meds," Jenn ordered as he polished off the last of the tasteless gruel. Jonathan did so reluctantly, feeling the bitter taste of each pill rush through his mouth and prompting him to down copious amounts of water each time he swallowed. When he finally swallowed the last pill, he made a face at Jenn, who returned his sour attitude with disdain.
"Don't be such a baby."
Jonathan stuck his tongue out at her and tried to get out of the wheelchair shakily. Almost instantly, Jenn was at his side, holding on to him and guiding him towards the couch. As he settled down onto the cushions of his couch, Jenn vanished into his room, and re-appeared with a small pillow as well as a large blanket. She placed the pillow under his head and draped the blanket over his body.
"Don't move suddenly like that or on your own," she scolded gently. "You'll break something again and waste all the effort that they spent trying to get you out. Have a good rest and relax."
She moved off, hanging up his coat on a hook and cleaning up the house in general, as an all-too-familiar haziness induced by medication began to wash over his head. He still could not sleep, however, not without knowing one detail –
"Jenn?" He called out woozily.
"What happened to me that night?"
She turned and looked over at him, puzzled. "You already know – you somehow turned up in gang territory, you got beat up by a couple of gangsters. I simply got a call from Luke way after you got sent into the hospital. And then the police called and said you were in the hospital as a victim of what seemed like a gang attack."
"Does Luke know that Eric was there?" he mumbled, fighting through the growing fuzz in his head.
Jenn paused, and Jonathan could see the alarm go off in her head as she turned away, obscuring her face from his view.
"That Eric? The one that… ten years ago…?"
He watched as her grip on a broom tightened, threatening to break the stick into half. He nodded slowly. She doesn't know. Luke didn't know, either – or he didn't tell her.
"He did this to you?!" She seethed through clenched teeth, barely able to contain her anger.
"Not important… but does Luke know?"
"He never mentioned anything of that sort. But it is important, Jonathan, don't you see? God," She huffed, "He had a motive – he wanted to kill you!"
"That's all I needed to know, Jenn."
"But Jon-"
"I'm trying to sleep here, Jenn. I can't rest well if you're making a racket."
His elder sister stared daggers at him for a short moment before giving up, and she stood to switch off the lights. Somewhere in the dark, she came over to him and gently stroked his head, the way she did when they were little children, and whispered for him to sleep well as the fog in his mind grew, taking over his consciousness.
Jonathan, a voice called out through the haze, smooth as silk. It's time to wake up. You've been sleeping for ages, and isn't the couch uncomfortable?
"Go away, Dad."
Soft laughter – not from one, but two people. Come on, wake up, sleepyhead, the voice continued. You've got to take a bath. You haven't taken one in forever.
"I don't wanna."
Wake up, the voice repeated, and he felt a warm hand against his hair, stroking it gently. Luke's going to throw you straight into the water if you're not awake.
Jonathan reluctantly pulled his heavy eyelids back as Evan's face came into view. Dazzled, he drew back his head suddenly, unable to breathe, his heart skipping a beat. He choked slightly, his throat dry, as he tried to regain his ability to think.
"Are you okay? Do you need some water?" Evan asked, concerned, reaching for a bottle of mineral water not far away, quickly opening it and placing the neck of the bottle by his lips, slowly tipping and pouring a small amount of water into his mouth. As the water rushed through his mouth and through his throat, relief settled, and Jonathan sighed softly.
"Is he up yet?" Luke yelled from the bedroom.
"Yeah." Evan answered.
"Help him hobble in here and we'll get started!"
"Come on, get up," Evan whispered softly as he placed his arms over Jonathan, slowly guiding the man to his feet and supporting him as they shuffled into Jonathan's bedroom, arm in arm.
"Where's Sarah and Hannah?" Jonathan asked, his head still caught in the confusion of things.
"Having girl-time together," Luke answered in an offhand fashion. "Anyway, since you can't take a proper shower, you're gonna soak in the bath for a bit, but, uh… there's the problem of undressin' you."
Jonathan stared blankly, blinking at Luke, clueless, before he realized from the look in Luke's eyes what he meant. He would have to stand completely bare in front of his best friend and the man he couldn't get out of his head. The same people would wash him down and have their hands on almost every part of his body. Almost involuntarily, he flushed.
"Right," Luke continued, as though he could read Jonathan's mind. "Evan, could you run the bath? I'll deal with this."
Evan nodded, and slowly lowered Jonathan into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, before he proceeded into the bathroom. The sound of taps running and water rushing resounded from the interior of the bathroom, and Jonathan whispered softly to Luke, "Thank you."
"Thank me later, I still haven't figured out how to help you undress and still retain your dignity in front of Evan."
"Can't I wash myself?"
"No can do. If you slip and break anything, Jenn will come after both of us and the next time you'll see me is in a coffin." Luke mumbled as he looked around, before grabbing a large terrycloth towel and wrapping it securely around Jonathan's waist.
"That's not going to solve anything," Jonathan groaned.
"It's your best bet. It's either this or go completely naked, and I don't want to see you completely naked."
Luke tugged at Jonathan's shirt, pulling it up to his chest and extracting his arms from the sleeves, before roughly yanking the rest of the shirt off his body, causing Jonathan to wince and yelp out in pain.
"Evan was much gentler when he put it on," Jonathan complained.
"Yeah, I'm not Evan, bitch. Stand up," Luke instructed, and supported Jonathan to his feet. His features contorting into a scowl, he reached underneath the terrycloth towel and searched for the hem of sweatpants, before quickly pulling it down in one fell swoop. As Jonathan felt the breeze suddenly hit his legs, Luke pulled his pants away from underneath his feet, and Jonathan fell back onto the bed, sorely nursing his injuries.
"You're a terrible caretaker, nobody's that rough."
"Do you want Evan to poke his head out and decide he'll do that for you?" Luke growled in a low voice. "Oh, you'll like it, but remember the situation you're in, idiot."
"Uh, the bath's ready," Evan peeked out from the bathroom, his face illuminated by the bright white light. "Is everything alright? Sounded like he was in pain."
"No, he's just being a baby. I'll poke him and he'll yell bloody murder anyway. I'm nearly done, anyway. I just need to waterproof his bandages and we'll throw him in there."
The task proved much easier as compared to the ordeal of undressing Jonathan, and after his bandaged arms were sufficiently wrapped in cling-wrap, he was escorted and guided into the bathtub by two pairs of strong arms, and he lowered himself into the lukewarm soapy water that Evan had meticulously set up. Jonathan giggled, feeling like a child once more.
"There're so many bub-bles," he laughed, placing an oddly heavy emphasis on the final syllable. "Where's my rubber ducky?"
Evan laughed softly. "Couldn't find one. Anyway, uh… we'll leave you here to soak for a bit. If you can, you can, uh, wash yourself a little bit. We'll still help you later on anyway, with your hair and the… spots you can't reach." A heated blush slipped into the handsome features as he spoke, and he looked away almost shyly.
Luke glanced between the two, and quickly ushered Evan out. "We'll be back in about ten minutes, take your time!"
The door shut firmly, leaving Jonathan alone in the bubbly bathtub. He could vaguely hear the two men speaking in harsh hushed voices outside, discussing things that he could not make out clearly for himself. Shrugging, he began to scrub himself down weakly with his right hand, his efforts limited only by his aching ribs. Fighting through the pain, he tried to make the best of his time alone and unseen by Luke and Evan, prioritizing the regions where he hoped would not come to the attention of the two men. The terrycloth robe was doing a fairly decent job thus far of covering the bare minimum of his body up, although he had a nasty feeling that his body might betray him in any coming second.
He scrubbed himself down as much as he could until his arms ached, and he lay back, worn out by the effort. He sighed, defeated, and called out for Evan and Luke. The door clicked open, and Evan's head poked in through a tiny gap.
"Something wrong?"
"I give up, I did most of what I could," Jonathan groused.
"Oh." Evan blinked stupidly for a second, as though he was barely paying attention to what Jonathan had just said. "Uh, the hair, then? And maybe Luke can help you with where you left off."
"Fuck off, Evan." Luke called out from a distance away.
"Doesn't sound like he likes that." Jonathan pointed out.
"Yeah," Evan grinned sheepishly, "he didn't get much of a choice in that."
He heard Luke groan as he pushed the door open wider, inviting a cold gust of wind into the bathroom. Jonathan shivered at the unpleasant feeling, sinking his body deeper into the warmth of the water.
"Alright, let's start," Luke grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with the arrangement. "Where can't you reach?"
"My right arm and my legs in general."
Luke grunted and rolled up his pant legs as far up as he could before clambering into the bath-tub, settling himself at the edge of it. A loofah seemed to be conjured out from nowhere, and Luke dipped it into the soapy water, beginning with his once-over on Jonathan. Evan, on the other hand, settled himself by Jonathan's head, wetting his dark hair gently with water and shampooing it generously. Whilst Luke grumbled at his chore, Evan remained thoughtfully quiet, as though he was engrossed deeply in his duty.
Jonathan was the first to break the discomforting silence. "I feel like the most pampered person in the universe right now, guys."
"You better be, 'cause I ain't enjoyin' this." Luke growled under his breath as he stuck the loofah back into the water, scrubbing higher and higher up his thigh, causing Jonathan to giggle at the sensation. Meanwhile, Evan massaged his scalp gently, his fingers threading through strands of hair and copious amounts of suds. I really am pampered.
"Alright, I'm done." Luke announced, straightening up with his hands fastening themselves around the shower head. "Hurry up and finish, Evan, we gotta rinse him down now."
He felt as Evan released his hands reluctantly away from his head, and soon a jet of water spurted in his direction, hitting him square in the face.
"What the hell?!" Jonathan sputtered through the first wave. "Not directly in my face!"
"Sorry buddy," Luke answered as he directed the shower head towards his hair, and a waterfall of shampoo and water washed over his face and head. As the waterfall began to clear, the drain was unplugged, and the water levels began to descend. Soon, Jonathan was left sitting in an odd position in the tub, with a drenched terrycloth towel over his waist and Luke hosing him down with water.
The water finally stopped, and a flurry of colors came before him as Evan swept in and wrapped Jonathan up in a large towel, wiping at his hair and at his chest the best he could without hurting him. He was quickly lifted into a standing position with Evan supporting him from behind, whilst Luke swapped out the wet terrycloth towel with a dry towel as quickly as he could. Once that all was done, the two men escorted Jonathan back into the bedroom, where he was thrown underneath the warm covers and blankets on the bed, with a multitude of pillows that Luke had extracted from every possible source in the house propping him upright.
Jonathan took a good long look at both Luke and Evan and almost laughed out loud at the state they were in. Luke's hair was damp and his jeans had dark patches strewn all over it, whilst Evan was splattered with water down his front.
"How the heck did you manage to get that wet?" Jonathan choked out, barely keeping a straight face. "I understand why Luke would be this wet, but you weren't even the one spraying water at me!"
"Because Luke didn't see where he was spraying, that idiot," Evan defended, and Jonathan, unable to hold back any longer, burst into laughter. The two men soon joined in, laughing themselves silly at the situation.
"That sounded so wrong," Jonathan wiped at his eyes when his giggling fit finally began to settle. "So damn wrong."
"Do you have any… uh, larger shirts?" Evan queried in a slightly more serious tone. "I've got to change out of this wet mess."
"That sky blue one he wore to the beach," Luke piped up. "Not the most suitable for the weather now, but it should fit. It's somewhere in the wardrobe."
"Sweet," Evan murmured as he located the fabric in the wardrobe. "Might be a tight fit, but a decent size nevertheless."
"Don't ruin it," Jonathan pleaded as Evan headed back into the bathroom with the shirt. "It's my favorite."
"Doesn't matter, you have plenty of blue shirts in there anyway," Evan called out, and Jonathan pouted at Luke, sending him an accusatory glare – You did it on purpose, didn't you?
Luke stuck his tongue out at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He shot a quick glance at the bathroom door, ensuring that Evan was well inside the bathroom and out of earshot, before he closed in on Jonathan and whispered gravely –
"It was Eric, wasn't it?"
Involuntarily, Jonathan's eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped his lips. He knows.
"It was, wasn't it? Of all the people you had to bump into on the night you got lost on the roads, it had to be him and whatever gang he joined up with."
"How did you figure it out?"
"This entire thing…you getting' beaten up like that… it fuckin' reeks of Eric," Luke frowned, the ever-so-familiar lines forming on his forehead. "The same fuckin' psycho who left those –"
"Stop it," Jonathan retorted sharply. The memories already were making his stomach turn.
Luke paused and assessed the alarm in Jonathan's eyes, aware of the distress that the direction of the conversation was sending him into.
"Sorry, dude. Why didn't you tell me, though? That it was him?"
Jonathan shut his eyes tight and leaned back into the pillows. "Does it matter if it was him or someone else? It doesn't make what he did any worse or any better. It doesn't change anything."
"That's it? You're just gonna let it go?" Luke questioned. "He's the one who –"
Luke stopped himself short, catching himself as he nearly broached the topic of the past again. He continued –
"He's a psycho, Jonathan. The attack wasn't just a bunch of drunken gang members on Christmas night deciding to drunkenly brawl a man that stepped into their territory. That was Eric and the men under his command wanting to kill you."
"And they're going to jail. They're getting their just desserts, and there's nothing I can do to change any bit of that."
"God, Jonathan, the point is, your case handler needs to know. Eric needs to go into a hellhole for what he did to you."
"I don't care where he goes. I just want to recover and get on with my life. End of story."
Luke opened his mouth, ready to speak again when the bathroom door clicked once more, with Evan stepping out donning Jonathan's favorite shirt. The sky blue was an odd combination with his tanned skin, yet the fabric wrapped around his muscular frame perfectly, showing off the curvature of his torso. Jonathan gawped, feeling as though Evan was sucking all the air out of his chest.
"Lookin' good," Luke complimented. "Now go find Sarah. She'll be real happy to see you."
Evan nodded, and bade his farewell to Jonathan, promising to come back the next day to take care and hang out with him, and the front door soon slammed shut.
"What were you two talking about earlier?" Jonathan questioned, looking at Luke earnestly. "While I was soaking away."
"I told him to go to Sarah. It's a shame if he comes here with her to not spend time with her, right?"
Jonathan frowned. "It sounded a lot more serious than that."
Luke sighed heavily. "Okay. Hannah's been spendin' a crazy lot of time with Sarah these days, and she thinks Sarah's freakin' out, going full bridezilla, but to be honest…I think there's more to that. Apparently Sarah's startin' to have doubts about Evan and the marriage and everything. She's not sure if Evan is really into marrying her, or if he's just marrying her because it's the perfect life, all that wife and kids B.S."
"I can't say he doesn't want that. Evan is… perfect. And he wants that perfect life, but… it doesn't mean that he doesn't love Sarah and he doesn't want to marry her."
"I know you know Evan the best out of all of us, but don't you think Evan is a little… too perfect? Almost like he's hidin' something, a side of him as best as he can."
"I don't wanna speculate, Luke," Jonathan shut his eyes, his head pounding furiously. "I just feel like he is, although I don't even know what makes him perfect, or if he even needs to be that way for anyone."
Luke scoffs and ruffles Jonathan's wet hair gently. "That's because you're the last person on the planet to ever understand this. I was a little envious of you when we first met, you know that? Nobody in your family seemed to care if you were a weird kid, hell, you didn't care either. You just kept truckin' on being who you were, talkin' shit all the time without a care in the world. Then again, you were just a shit-talkin' little kid when we first met, and I was in a rough patch as a teen."
"Either way," Luke continued, "Sarah's not very happy, even if Evan is perfect. Hannah's scared that some shit might go down, so I sent Evan back to her."
Jonathan chewed on his lower lip as he digested the information. That's another couple. Another couple put in danger by me.
"Aw, come off it, you're a little happy. Evan will be all free for the takin'." Luke purred darkly, answering his thoughts.
"Luke!" Jonathan nearly yelled. "Since when did you become as evil as Jenn?"
Luke shrugged. "I'm speaking the truth. Won't you be happy to have a shot at Evan?"
"Not like that. He'd be broken, and that'd break my heart."
Luke snorted, and stood up from where he sat. "That's sweet and all. But you've missed so much from today, I just wish you'd open your eyes more."
Jonathan awoke, head pounding and foggy once more. How long have I been asleep? Better yet, when did I fall asleep? Was that all a dream?
His recollections were all jumbled up. The last he remembered clearly was the conversation he had with Luke about Evan after his first shower out of the hospital. He could barely remember what he had dreamt about despite always having vivid, hyper-realistic dreams that he could almost always remember.
As he sat up and waited for his head to clear, he could hear soft rustling and crackling coming from outside his room – the sound of a pan or a pot softly sizzling away. He sniffed the air gently, catching the scent of something savory, and his mouth watered. The scent was familiar, something he had smelled a month back. It was the very same scent he had smelled when Evan made him soup on the day that he had fallen ill in California.
"Evan?" He called out in uncertainty. A flurry of footsteps and a cheery Evan peeked through his bedroom door, answering his call.
"Ah, you're awake. Soup's nearly done, give me a few minutes, okay?"
He shrank back out into the living quarters of the house. Mere moments later, after a series of clanging of pots and clinking of bowls, he returned to the bedroom with a bowl of steaming hot soup and a parcel tucked underneath his arm.
"How am I supposed to eat that without a tray?" Jonathan asked.
"Simple," Evan flashed him a killer grin as he settled the bowl down on a table, "I'll feed you. I never got to finish that job from the last time. But first… remember when I asked you about teddy bears? Well… I wanted to give this to you the next time I saw you, but it seems like the 'next time' was a lot sooner than I thought."
He dug into the parcel and pulled out a large brown teddy bear from its depths. Jonathan's eyes widened at the sheer sight of his gift, and he ran his fingers through its fur, its fur soft and fluffy at the very touch. "It's so cute," he breathed.
"I thought you would like it," Evan smiled warmly. "Now you have a cuddle buddy to recover with!"
"I can't really cuddle it with only one arm," Jonathan whined, and Evan placed the teddy bear in his right arm in a snug position.
"See, you're holding him either way. Now, for food!"
Evan picked up the still-smoking bowl of soup and scooped a nice amount of soup onto the spoon, and lifted it to his lips, blowing on the surface gently. Seconds later, he lifted the spoonful of soup to Jonathan's lips instead, and Jonathan parted his lips, inviting a flood of warm, aromatic soup into his mouth. It was just like when he was ill all over again, except Evan committed to his job of feeding him – an act that made his heart swell beyond capacity. His heart pounded as he watched Evan repeat the cycle by lifting the spoon to his lips and cooling the soup gently, and he went into overdrive as Evan tenderly tipped the contents of the spoon into his lips. If I wasn't already in love with this man, I think I'm falling for him now.
As the cycle repeated for the umpteenth time, Jonathan spoke. "You're really nice to me, Evan. Do you know that? You're too nice to me."
"You're my friend. And you're nice to me, too. You're nice to everyone."
"That wasn't my point."
"Oh. I'm always nice to everyone. Either way, thank god you woke up soon. I was thinking you'd sleep your way through the fireworks."
"Fire…works?"
"Yeah. It's New Year's Eve, and I think the rest should be coming around soon. I think. So hurry up and eat before we miss the fireworks." Evan spooned another spoonful of soup into Jonathan's mouth.
Jonathan swallowed, and continued, refusing to change the subject. "Evan, I… I don't think you should be here with me."
"Where else should I be, then?" Evan asked, not looking at him.
"You should be in California. You should be spending your New Year's Eve with Sarah. You should be doing things that engaged couples do with her. You shouldn't be here in North Carolina taking care of a burden that isn't even yours."
"They'll all be coming here anyway. They'll be bringing the party here, even Sarah's coming. It's not like I'm abandoning her or anything."
"You don't get it, do you?" Jonathan went on, his tone getting heated. He could feel himself spiraling out of control deep within as the feelings in his heart began to overflow. "All that that Luke told you about… you don't understand."
Evan turned away from Jonathan and settled the bowl of soup on the table. ""What don't I understand? That I'm not good enough for Sarah, or anyone else out there? That I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going?" His voice grew, his tone becoming harsher and rougher. "That I'm completely messed up and I'm trying to hide it under everything that I'm doing? Or that I'm simply so much of a loser that I can't even tell the people I love what I need them to know?!"
Jonathan had never seen Evan this heated before, neither had he ever heard Evan so flustered, so angry and so anxious before. The man sat before him, silently losing it. He began to speak again, slower and calmer this time.
"I do understand, Jonathan, I really do. I know how she feels about me right now, and I know what she's going through, but I really can't be with her, not right now."
Jonathan watched the man suffer as he spoke, and he opened his mouth, voice cracking as he spoke.
"But you have to, Evan. You chose her. In time… you'll have the perfect little family, no? She'll be your wife, and you two will have children… everything's… perfect…" He lowered his head and played with the sheets on the bed, biting his lip as he did so, suppressing every ounce of feeling that was boiling over the edge.
"No, Jonathan… the one who doesn't understand is you. God, you don't know what I'm going through. You don't even know what I want." He turned back to look at Jonathan. "This… this is torture. But it isn't just any torture – I'm torturing myself. I can't say a single thing that I want to say, and it hurts so much, Jonathan."
Jonathan bit down on his lower lips harder, his eyes beginning to water. Only a few words separated them from their future now, only a few sounds from his lips would change everything between them. A few words to lose Evan and break himself, or to break Evan once and for all. A few words to put their years' worth of friendship in peril. He loved Evan. He would throw himself in front of a car if that was what it meant to watch the man smile. He would break his heart to make Evan's whole.
He snapped his head up to look straight at Evan, a teardrop escaping the confines of his baby blues and running down his cheek as he did. It was the moment, the perfect moment. His voice broke and cracked at every syllable as it made its way through his reddened lips -
"Why can't you?"
Evan slowly lifted a hand to cup his cheek, gently thumbing the teardrop away, himself not too far off from tears. His eyes were glassy, and his expression spoke an endless sorrow.
"I… I just can't, Jonathan. I'm so sorry. I'm such a selfish bastard. Please don't cry, Jonathan. Not for this asshole."
As if by magic, his words summoned a torrent from Jonathan's eyes. He broke under Evan's touch, salty tears streaming down his soft, delicate features. He heard Evan's soft, broken cooing through barely suppressed sobs, urging him to not cry any more.
"Please, Jonathan," Evan choked through another sob, his warm palm never leaving Jonathan's face. "I can't do this. I'm so sorry…"
"It's not your fault…" Jonathan sobbed. "I shouldn't have – I shouldn't have started this…"
The moment was tender. The tenderness, however, failed to last. In a blur before their eyes, there was the sound of a door flying open, and a resounding smack landing on Evan's face. Sarah stood before them both, hurt contorting her face.
"I can't believe it," she seethed. "I knew everything was too perfect. I knew it was all too good to be true. I just – I just didn't know how it was."
"Sarah, listen to me –" Evan began, wiping his eyes hastily.
"Listen to what? You crying about how you don't get to be with Jonathan? How you don't want to be with me? Listen to what exactly, Evan? I've heard everything I needed to hear!"
"It's not what it seems!"
"How is it not?" She challenged, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes full and wet. "All this time, I've been going through utter hell, wondering if you still loved me, if you're marrying me just because you wanted to marry someone. And where were you? With him."
The venom seeped into the final word as though it was poison in her mouth.
"And all this time we've been dating, we've laughed, we've cried, we've shared all those moments together – and you've never did what you're doing for him for me, Evan. How long is this going to go on for? Is it still going to go on even after we're married? What, are you going to fly down here every other month to spend your time with him while our love withers away, and then come back to have children with me? What on earth do you think I am to you?"
"I – Don't put words in my mouth – I would never do that!"
"Oh, but if I don't, would you ever have said it?!" She pushed further. She directed towards Jonathan. "And you! I trusted you so much. I readily thought of you as a friend, and this is how it goes! I wanted to ask you, to hear from you what you had to say about my troubles, since you knew Evan so well, and hey presto, I just had to find that the person he's throwing me away for is you. Damn you, Jonathan."
"Don't you dare." Evan defended darkly, danger creeping into his tone.
"Oh, I dare to, Evan, and you know it." Sarah shot back, tears flooding her features now. "It's over, Evan. You don't love me anymore. I know that."
She turned on her heel and rushed out of the door, leaving Evan standing there in the middle of Jonathan's bedroom, at a loss. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned mechanically towards Jonathan, whose eyes were wide open in shock, tears still streaking his beautiful paleness, and looked at him straight in the eye. The deep brown of his eyes were dead, almost drained completely of all emotion, and they bore into the blues painfully, heart-wrenchingly.
"I'm sorry, Jonathan. It can't be this way. It's not you. It can never be you."
His words held a tone of finality about them, and Evan vanished from his sight, leaving the room and the house empty, and his heart still, unmoving. Evan had left him, and he had taken his heart away with him. He was numb all over inside – hurt to the point where he could not feel any longer. Somehow, however, the tears still left the corners of his eyes. Somehow, he was still breathing, living and moving. He stared into the darkness of his room for a long while, before burying his wet face into the soft fur of the teddy bear that Evan had left him – the sole reminder of Evan's existence in his life.
As the fireworks were fired into the sky from multiple sources and split with a resounding crack like thunder in the middle of a storm, Jonathan lay still, listening his heart break numbly with every bang. As the cheers of 'Happy New Year' flooded all around his neighborhood, he quietly lay on his bed, a broken man. As the celebrations entered his house, with Luke and Hannah cheerily wishing him a Happy New Year in loud voices, he continued to lie there, drifting in a limbo. All he could last comprehend were shouts of worry from Hannah and Luke shaking him furiously in an attempt to get him to snap out of his catatonic state as the fireworks continued to break up and explode into a million different colors above him.
Underneath the rainbow of colors and flashes, he was suspended, in a limbo.
Is this what death feels like?