12 Days of Jaytim
Paper Cranes

Jason started to buy hats for Tim because the kid always seemed so cold (and he just looked wrong without anything on his head at all. He just looked so sick bald, and it was a constant reminder that Tim was probably going to die). He mostly bought him beanies and knit caps since they were soft and warm. They offered a moment of brief happiness where they could both laugh because some of the hats were too big and they'd slide down the boy's face. And Jason would just chuckle at him (the corners of his eye crinkling slightly), cup his face, and give him a chaste kiss.

He'd love to kiss Tim longer, let his hands smooth over the soft skin of his arms, but he can't. Tim's too sick for that, and he wouldn't want to induce one of his violent coughing fits. Jason figured that if Tim wasn't sick, they'd probably be the type who would just make out on a couch, slow at times and rough at others. Just doing whatever pleased them, and Jason make a promised to himself that he would give Tim that; whether if it was after he got better or in a different life. Jason promised Tim that much at least.

But they settled for this. It made Tim smile genuinely longer, and that was a rare sight in itself. So they were okay with it for now. They had to be.

"So, is there anything you want for Christmas?" Jason asks the younger teen one day. Of course, there was always that one answer that hung heavily above their heads, threatening to break down any form of composure they owned. "I want to get better." But the two of them both knew that that was most likely never going to happen.

Tim hummed in thought, though, lightly biting his lip. "Not really," he said quietly before giving Jason a soft smile that made the older boy's stomach fall because he looked so sad. "As long as I have you, I don't want or need anything." Jason was all that Tim had and all that he wanted. As long as he could spend some time with him on Christmas, even if only for a minute, he'd be happy.

Jason reached over and gently squeezed Tim's bruised hand. "I'll always come see you. Always." And he has. Every day after his work shift, he has come to see Tim. He even visits him before he goes to school. He really wishes he could just skip, but he's fairly certain his brother would skin him alive. He leaned closer and pressed his lips lightly against Tim's forehead. "I wish I could take you outside."

The city park was now completely decked out with gorgeous lights, and there was the tallest tree that was decorated from head to toe. The snow would slowly make its descent and stick to everything in elegance, and he really wanted to take Tim. But Tim couldn't go outside or else he could get worse, and Jason didn't want to risk that.

Instead, Jason started this week tradition where he'd take Tim's camera and take pictures of anything and everything, and he'd have them developed by Friday so he could show them to Tim. He took pictures of his friends at school, his dorky older brother, some random objects and items, and scenery. He'd take pictures of sunsets and sunrises, the first snowfall, the snowmen the children in the park would make, and even the park lights. But a picture could only give so much. He wanted Tim there with him. He want to keep him close to his side, wrap a fluffy scarf around his neck to keep him warm, warm his hands between his own before giving his gloves to him, to have snowball fights together and just act light children. With the Christmas lights above them and all around.

But Jason knew he'd never be able to. Not as long as Tim was lying in this sickly white hospital bed.

Tim closed his eyes and nuzzled Jason's chin. "I know. I wish you could too." It's been so long now since he's been able to step outside. He hasn't stayed in the safe zone long enough for him to be able to go outside, even for five minutes. And they most certainly weren't going to let him outside in the cold weather. He kissed the tip of Jason's chin and then sighed softly.

"I'll do something for you, though," Jason assured him, completely determined. He'd definitely do something nice for him. He just didn't know what yet.

Tim chuckled softly and looked around the room. There were flowers to help brighten up the room as well as a few pictures that the kindergarten students at Jason's school drew for him, he had colorful, warm blankets that Jason and his friends had bought as well as pillows, and Jason even bought him new pajamas so he could actually have some pants.

"Jason, you've given me everything and more. I don't need anything. Really." But Jason wouldn't be deterred from this.

It took him days to figure out what to do. He didn't know what would be good enough, and he wanted something meaningful that would add color to Tim's daily life. He was strolled aimlessly through stores, trying to find something. He even went into the arts and crafts section, even though he had the artistic ability of a nail. But it was worth a shot. His eye was caught, though, on a square book that had a picture of an origami crane. He remembered Tim talking about origami once, saying that he always wanted to learn how, but he never got the chance.

Jason picked up the book that read "Senbazuru: Thousand Origami Cranes." He later found out that it was a kit with over a thousand six by six inch papers, beads, and strings that allowed a person to fold a thousand cranes. And legend says, it grants the receiver of the cranes a recovery from an injury or illness.

His grip on the kit tightened as his lips formed a tight line as he stared at it. He stood like that for about five minutes before he bought it. It was worth a shot. The beautiful colors and patterns of the paper would definitely add scenery to Tim's room. And maybe, just maybe…

Jason set out on making them right away. He'd make them in morning advisory, his lunch period, any study halls he had, any time that he had free. He didn't want Tim to know until he had at least one string done. He didn't show Tim until he had one hundred twenty cranes made (and even then, he wasted about twenty sheets of paper because he kept messing up and tearing the sheets). They were beautifully made, all different with the various colors and patterns, and Tim was so surprised when he pulled them out of the box.

Jason had taken the liberty to hang the three strings up. He still had twenty-two more to go, but this was a good start and he wanted Tim to at least have something for the holiday.

"I'm going to finish the thousand," Jason said as he took his usual seat by Tim's bedside and gently held his hand between his own. "I'm going to finish them for you." And pray for good luck.

Tim blinked at him, his eyes having a far too familiar burn to them, and he smiled weakly at him. "Thank you," he whispered as Jason carefully wrapped his arms around the frail body.

"And I'll make them for you every year," he whispered into Tim's hat. "It'll be our tradition."

Jason was dead serious about it too. He kept folding cranes until his hands felt numb. Dick even made him coffee on late nights to help keep him awake. He and many others had offered to help, but Jason always declined. He had wanted to make them all on his own. So in compensation, Dick had just kept buying him more paper because Jason always made mistakes here and there.

It was the middle of January, and Jason had managed to fold eight hundred and eighty cranes. Tim's room was bursting with color and life, and his heart always flipped in happiness when Tim would smile, and he'd give him a soft, lingering kiss. It was all worth it. The soft smiles to how emotional Tim got sometimes because he had just gotten back from another chemo session to see Jason hanging up more strings. It was all worth it in the end.

But Jason wasn't able to finish them in time. He had managed to fold nine hundred and sixty cranes, but it wasn't a thousand. He didn't make it in time. And he will never let that slide because he messed up again, and this time it might kill him.

But it was still a tradition, and every year he would fold a thousand cranes.

To wish Tim eternal life. Wherever he was.