A/N: I am told Tim Tams are *AMAZING* Australian biscuits (cookies?)
Fireworks explode in his head, and the world spins back into blurry focus. Haloed people lean over him. Blurry angels.
"Sebastian?"
He jerks at the sound of his name. His whole body hurts, and he is so tired. The fuzzy, glowing woman in the white coat bends over him with a stethoscope. He tries to focus.
"Open your mouth."
He obeys. Someone squirts something slimy and white into his mouth. He swallows reflexively. It's gel-like, a familiar texture, but not a familiar flavor. This slime is sweet… and orange flavored.
He cannot move. He tries to wiggle his finger. Oh. His fingers move. Okay… he can move his fingers. Everything is okay.
He isn't sure where he is. He is surrounded by bright lights and strangers who glow. He does not know anyone around him. …He doesn't know any dead people.
Maybe he's in heaven.
Or Hell.
Or Purgatory.
He isn't a good person, so he's going to hell. But, he's not that bad… so probably purgatory.
He's not sure he believes in purgatory. Can you exist in a place you don't believe in?
A boy with white blond hair and a white t-shirt makes his way over. The glow has faded to dancing starts, but he's still very bright. Angelically bright.
He looks familiar. … He is … Jeff.
Jeff. Jeff has beaten him at Euchre. … Jeff, who yells at Andrew for blasting music on his stereo, but has been known to play "Party in the USA" so loudly the windows shook … Jeff, who once tried to explain the difference between American and Aussie slang and ended up confusing everyone in the room. ... Jeff, who is really good about sharing his Tim Tams, even though its clear he wants hoard them. You can tell by the way he twitches whenever anyone takes more than one and then shoves it in their mouth.
Jeff who is probably not in Heaven. … So, he probably isn't either. However, he's convinced Jeff is an angel as he presses a large white Styrofoam cup of soda into his shaking hands.
Even with the straw, he manages to spill some Sprint on his already soiled hospital gown. Jeff takes the cup, and holds it for him.
Some part of him wonders if Jeff is here, where are his parents? Shouldn't they be here when he wakes up, like they always are? Where is his dad? Where is his Maman? Why is he alone?
"Where's my dad?" He asks Jeff, his voice shaking like his hands.
There is a flurry of activity, and his father comes in. John Smythe hugs his son, careful of the IVs.
He feels safe, protected, at peace for the first time in a long time. They sit together for an eternity, until someone clears their throat.
His father takes the white cup from Jeff, and holds his son as he drinks. When he finishes, he looks down. For the first time in what seems like forever, his tremors are under control.