Boo!

Another chapter is here! I've been writing constantly for the past three days and I have so many different ideas for stories that my head might explode. I wanna write them all at the same time, but that's obviously impossible since I'm not and octopus and I don't have 8 hands that could type separate things. School starts in a month and I have a bunch of things to do before then, but I hope I'll be able to get as much writing done as possible. Anyway, I'm gonna be traveling for three more weeks, so we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

cheetahreader1213: Thank you so much :) I hope the update came quick enough

Charmlily: It makes me so excited and happy to see you're so intrigued to read more. Thank you so much :)

Extraordinarygirl116: Thank you so much :) I have a love-hate relationship going on with cliffhangers too. If I'm the one reading the story, they drive me crazy, because I'm the most impatient person ever. That being said, I'm also incredibly inpatient when it comes to posting a new chapter I've written, so I end up posting the first part and leaving it on a cliffhanger. (I've noticed it's quite impossible for me to write one-chapter stories, because of that very reason.) I'm so cruel XD

Sasa Camilla: Sweatheart, you are most certainly valued. And it doesn't sound funny at all. I may not know you personally, but I recognize your username every time. I see all of the kind reviews you leave me, I read them (more than once) and they always make me feel amazing. Over and over again. I wish there was a way for me to respond directly to your comments as there is on other apps, but until then, this will have to do. Yes, it takes time to respond, but considering how much all of your reviews mean to me, it's a no brainer. You're worth it. I am thankful for every single one of you, I respect you and if there's ever anything I can do to make your days a little brighter (just like you make mine), don't be afraid to speak up. And as cheesy as this may sound, you do matter :) (I hope you don't mind me writing this.)

larutanrepus89: Thank you so much :)

Now let's continue with the story. Onward and upward!

Almost Like A Walk On The Beach

Part 3

Will's P.O.V.

Why is Al just standing there? Is he not aware that time's running ou-

"I found him!"

Oh my God.

Did he really just say that?

As soon as Al starts descending the hill to get to my brother, my feet start running so fast, my body can't catch up, so I end up stumbling and falling head first into the sand a few feet away from my brother.

Just then, Al reaches Jay.

He's on his knees in seconds, reaching forward to help him, before he stops and just stares at him, as if he were afraid to touch him.

Why isn't he helping him? Is he-? No, no, no, no.

"He's alive!" Al yells, still not touching Jay, but visibly relieved. Wait. He's alive? He's actually alive. "Hank, get the car!" Al yells to Voight, who immediately takes off running in the direction of his car.

Only now, do I allow myself to actually look at him.

He's laying on his side, hands tied behind his back with a zip tie. I can see some blood from where he's cut the skin by struggling, but based on the amount of blood it shouldn't be too deep. As usual, he's wearing a black long sleeved shirt and black jeans, despite the fact that it's summer. The truly scary part though, is the black bag, pulled over his head and taped around his neck, keeping me from seeing his face. It's certainly not making me any calmer, and I sure as hell know Jay isn't enjoying it in the slightest.

His chest is rising, so I know he's breathing, and to be honest, everything except for the bag and zip tie seems kinda normal.

I can see he's shaking though. Is it from fever? Fear? Pain? All of the above? I can't tell.

I need to see his face.

Right now.

I crawl the rest of the way, until I finally reach my brother. Frantically, I grab the tape around his neck and just about rip it off, taking the black bag with it.

The sight I get isn't pretty.

Jay's face is flushed and sweaty, eyes darting around underneath closed eyelids, seemingly terrified to death. He's breathing way too fast and shallow for my liking and he doesn't seem to have noticed our arrival yet, which worries me.

"Is he awake?" Antonio asks, sliding down the sandy hill right behind me.

"I don't think so" I mumble, reaching forward to shake him.

"No, wait!" Al warns me, just in time for me to back away slightly. "We don't know what he's been through or if he's even aware we're here. He hasn't responded to any of us yet. Let's just... take it slow."

Right. Don't freak him out. Got it.

"Jay?" I say, loudly, but with a tone that hopefully comes out in a soothing way. "It's Will. Can you hear me, buddy?" I ask, while checking his pulse. Fast and erratick, but there. Good enough for me.

After getting no response, I go to peel off the duct tape covering his mouth to hopefully make his return to the land of the living a bit less unpleasant. Once it's gone, I finally notice the cause of his semi-unconscious state.

"Oh my God" I say, pulling the cloth out of my brother's mouth as fast as I can, immediately noticing the sweet smell. Just as I thought. "It's soaked with Chloroform."

I throw the cloth somewhere far enough, so that the smell can't reach my brother anymore. Being knocked out using Chloroform for a small amount of time is dangerous enough, constantly inhaling large amounts for more than twenty four hours is another thing. We might have a serious problem.

My elevated state of panic alerts Al, who all of a sudden forgets all about the 'let's go slow' thing and starts yelling at my brother to wake up, while rubbing his arm, without any success.

I reach into my pocket to find my penlight. Gently, I pull Jay's eyelids open one after the other to check his pupils. Fixed and dilated. Not great, but expected.

I call his name again while rubbing my knuckles over his sternum in circles.

That changes things.

His eyes snap open and he jolts away from me as if I were fire and he had just burnt himself.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're safe."

He starts trashing around, breathing increasing even more, hazy eyes darting from one side to the other, looking for something that isn't there.

I'm too taken aback to say anything else, so Al steps in.

"Hey, relax, kid. You're okay, just relax. We got you. You're gonna be just fine." I gotta admit, he has an amazing ability of soothing my brother whenever he gets trapped in his PTSD world. I've seen him do it before, but right now... his words seem to go in through one ear and out the other. Just like mine.

I notice he's trying to pull his hands free, the zip tie cutting its way deeper into his skin.

"Antonio, get his hands" I order, catching Jay's face in between my palms to stop him from looking all over the place and hopefully get him to concentrate on me and calm down.

"Jay, look at me" I say, not achieving anything. I keep my eyes locked on his, hoping that his panicked glance somehow happens to land on me. "Jay, can you hear me? Jay!"

In that exact moment, Antonio cuts his hands free, and they immediately fly to land on top of mine, trying to knock them away.

We struggle for a few seconds, him breathing and me just screaming his name, until his eyes accidentally lock on mine.

And I realize that he's looking at me like I'm a ghost.

Shit.

"Jay, do you know who I am?"

He goes dead white, whispers something that sounds a lot like I'm sorry and I couldn't do it, before his eyes roll back and his head lolls to the side.

"Will?!" Al asks, alarmed at the sudden turn of events.

My hand immediately shoots for his wrist to check his pulse again. Thankfully it's the same as before, except maybe a bit more excited. (Or more likely scared.)

"It's okay, he just passed out."

Al doesn't seem convinced whatsoever, but then again, neither am I. I can hear him radio for a chopper to meet us, but I'm too occupied with what just happened to care.

What worries me, are the words that came out of Jay's mouth and the fact that they make no sense to me. What would he be sorry for? What wasn't he able to do?

Before I can get my brain to form an answer though, he moans, rolling his head to the other side, before his eyelids flutter open again.

I decide to let the unanswered question go and focus on helping him instead.

"Jay? You with me?" I ask, cautiously, fearing another reaction similar to what I've just experienced ten seconds ago.

Thankfully, his eyes slowly travel the distance from the ground to me, before finding my eyes.

He looks absolutely exhausted, but here nevertheless.

"Can you hear me?" I ask again, hoping for a more explicit response this time.

I get a small nod, before his eyes slip closed.

"Hey, look at me" I yell, shaking him slightly and waiting for him to make eye contact with me, before continuing. "Can you breathe okay?"

You may be wandering why I'm asking him this. You see, it's generally known, that Chloroform knocks you out. It can also give you a horrific headache, make you lethargic and disoriented or make you unable to feel pain or have any sensation. But what people don't know, is that if consumed in larger amounts, it can also cause strained breathing, complete muscle relaxation and even paralysis of the chest muscles, which would be fatal. And the cloth shoved into my brother's mouth for hours and hours was soaking wet...

I realize he hasn't given me an answer yet, so I feel the urge to scream again. "Jay!"

He doesn't say anything, but I can see him wince at the sound.

Of course.

The headache. I'm so stupid. All of the yelling and shaking I'm doing is basically torture for him. Oops. Apparently Antonio noticed the wince too, since he's now standing in between Jay's head an the sun, so that the light won't bother him that much. That was nice of him.

"You have a splitting headache, right? I know, buddy, I'm sorry. I won't yell anymore. You have to stay awake though, okay?"

His eyes open again and he keeps blinking at me.

I guess that could be considered as a decent response. For someone who was just knocked out for hours and hours... Yeah, I'd say it's pretty good. I mean, at least he's maintaining eye-contact.

"Jay, I need you to tell me if you can breathe okay" I say once again, except much less loudly. He gives me a tiny moan, before coughing violently and swallowing as if his throat was filled with thorns.

Oh, yaay, we got our first actual response! Way to go Jay. Let's see if we can keep the winning streak going.

"Does anything other than your head and throat hurt?"

He stays motionless for a while, before shrugging. "Cnt feel nythin."

Right. Great. Thank you Chloroform. He could be seriously injured and not even know it. We got a half of a sentence though. I'd say that's progress.

"Wtr" he mumbles, licking his dry chapped lips.

Al immediately goes fishing inside his pockets and produces a water bottle. I don't think it's a smart idea for Jay to drink yet, but I guess we could try it.

Carefully, we sit him up against Al's chest, Antonio moving slightly to continue providing shade for his eyes, while I bring the bottle towards his lips.

"Small sips, okay?" I say, before tilting the bottler slightly. He takes a tiny sip, but as soon as the water reaches his stomach, he bends over in pain, and the tiny sip comes right back up.

Poor guy.

Puking on an already empty stomach. That can't have been pleasant.

I notice there are tears in his eyes.

Al must've noticed to, because he lays him back down, letting him rest his head on his lap, while he keeps rubbing Jay's back and gently rocking back and forth.

"Are you okay?" I ask once he fails to reopen his eyes.

He shakes his head and mumbles one simple word out. Sick. Can't say I didn't see it coming. I place my hand on his forehead, nevertheless, feeling the heat radiating from him.

"I know, buddy, I'll give you something as soon as I get some fluids in you, okay?"

We have bigger problems at hand that need to be dealt with right away though. He's way too warm to the touch, which can only mean one thing. Rapid strong heartbeat, fast and shallow breathing, confusion, headache, dizziness, flushed skin, nausea. This has heat stroke written all over it.

I start going through the ABCs of what you're supposed to do if someone is suffering from heat exhaustion, but you have no medical equipment whatsoever.

Number one: get the person out of the sun.

That one's a little tricky, considering the fact that we're in a desert.

"We need to get him out of the sun" I blurt out, just as Voight's car rounds the corner.

Thank God, that's perfect. The car could provide us just enough shade and it contains all of my medical equipment, which is really great.

"How is he?" Voight asks, jumping out of the car, clearly worried.

"As good as he can be, I guess" I respond. "I think he's kinda over sunbathing, though" I joke, trying to lighten the mood, without scaring Jay.

He doesn't seem to catch my joke, so I still can't tell id his brain has turned into mush yet. What better way to check his mental state than making him move, am I right?

"Come on, buddy, let's get you up" I say, gently grabbing one of his hands, as Al takes the other. We pull him into a sitting position again, which results in his eyes rolling back. "Hey, you good?" I ask, slapping his cheek a little, successfully getting him to open his eyes again. They never focus on me though. Well, I guess that's not happening. Apparently our surroundings are extremely interesting. "Alright, let's stand the rest of the way" I encourage him, bracing myself for the collapse I know is about to come with the altitude change. Together with Al, we have just enough strength to drag Jay up to his feet with Antonio propping him up from the back. I'm well aware of the fact that the three of us are taking most of Jay's weight, but it's more than I could dare to ask for.

I give him time to adjust to the height, before speaking again.

"Let's try walking, okay? Think you could do that?" Once he doesn't move, I rub a hand on his thigh to make him remember where his legs are and how to use them. "Move your leg, buddy." I gently kick his heel from the back, forcing him to take a tiny little step forward. "There you go, you're doing great. Let's try moving the other leg."

I am well aware of the fact that Jay would be furious if he could hear the way I'm babying him right now, but it's not like I have a choice. Right now, his brain's so overstimulated with everything it's making him unable to preform the simplest things.

A lot more encouraging and commotion later, we finally manage to complete the short distance from the sand to the car.

"Good job, buddy. Let's sit down for a second" I say, carefully depositing my brother in the small shade. We sit him up against the car door, successfully shielding his whole body from direct sunlight.

Voight crouches down next to me. "Shouldn't we get him to a hospital?" he whispers into my ear, so that Jay wouldn't hear him, because we all know that upon hearing the dreadful h-word, he'd refuse to go.

"Al requested a chopper and we have to get him stabilized before we move him anyway" I explain, earning a nod. "Can you get me my medical bag?" I ask, giving him an encouraging smile, before transferring my attention back to my brother.

"Jay, you with me?" I ask, gently rubbing his arm to get him to look at me. I'd never do that on a normal day, but since he still seems pretty out of it, I'm hoping he doesn't have the strength to hit me.

"Mmm" he groans in response. Well, it's better than nothing.

"How you feeling, buddy?" I continue my interrogation, while measuring his pulse again. Same as before.

Once Voight sets the medical bag down next to me, I start digging for the thermometer. I need to know exactly how bad this heat exhaustion is.

I press it into Jay's ear, narrating every step as I go, so I wouldn't startle him. The beep still scares him though.

Al gets a monologue of soothing words going, while I check the number.

104.2

That's not good. Definitely heat stroke. We have to move fast before his condition deteriorates.

I can feel everyone staring at me, waiting for any sort of news, but there's no time for that.

"He's burning up, we have to cool him down a bit. Antonio, spread out the space blanket" I order, tapping my brother's cheek to keep him from falling asleep. Seconds later, the sand's hidden by the blanket.

"Let's lay him down." Al immediately assists me in gently moving my brother's upper body, as Antonio and Voight deal with his legs.

"Antonio, help me get the pants off of him" I say tossing him the scissors, before ripping Jay's shirt open and pealing it away from his skin. I'm honestly surprised by the sight. No sign of cuts and bruises and I can't feel any broken ribs either. Whoever this Garcia person is, he couldn't have been very violent when handling my brother. I'm sure he fought back enough to at least earn a broken rib or two... Well, I guess Garcia isn't much of a let's-sort-this-out-by-punching kinda guy. Lucky Jay, I guess.

I notice Jay's black jeans are now gone and he's left in only boxers.

"Keep his legs elevated above heart level."

Antonio does so, as Voight steps forward to help me.

"Al, keep him awake, Voight, grab the ice packs and put them on his neck, armpits and groin. I'll set up the IV."

After about ten minutes of having a hard time finding vanes, three IV lines are successfully set up. One in each elbow and one on his leg. "Hold this and squeeze gently" I say, passing one of the IV bags to Antonio and the other two to Al.

"Jay? You doing okay buddy?" I ask, while checking his temperature again. It's still holding steady at 104.

"How far out's that helicopter?" I whisper to Al, whose face turns into an even more concerned one.

Ten minutes.

Jay has to last ten more minutes in this heat.

His pulse is getting way too fast for my liking. I have to get his temperature down or he's gonna crash.

Think, Will, think.

"Can you give me one of those water bottles?" I ask no one specific, holding a hand out in the air. I am soon awarded with a cold and wet piece of round plastic.

"Jay, I need you to listen to me. You have a really high fever, so I need to get it down, okay?"

He doesn't respond and his eyes keep staring at the sky without as much as blinking. "This is gonna feel a little cold, okay buddy? Just relax."

I pour the icy cold water on Jay's chest, making him shudder underneath my fingers. His eyes stay glued to the bright blue sky, seemingly unaware of anything that's going on.

"Give me another one" I ask Voight, who hands me two more water bottles, while taking some himself and mimicking me.

Six bottles later, my brother's shivering as if he were half-way frozen.

Grabbing the thermometer again, I'm relieved to see that we got his temperature down to 102.9.

Small steps.

At some point, Antonio has taken off his shirt, soaked it with cold water and given it to Al, who's now holding it against Jay's head.

"Do we have anything we could fan him with?" I ask, and somehow, Voight produces a folder and starts fanning my brother with it, while I keep myself occupied by pouring water on him.

By the time the helicopter can be heard, we have exhausted most of our supplies.

Just as I open my mouth to explain to Jay what's about to happen, his eyes start darting all over the place again, while his move, and go to rip out the IVs.

The helicopter.

Rangers.

Those two things don't go together with a semi-conscious and confused Jay who's just been kidnapped too well.

"Hey, it's okay, they're here to help. I promise. You're safe" I say, grabbing both of his hands to keep him from touching anything.

I can hear Antonio grunt in the background, having earned a kick in the guts from my panicked brother.

Brilliant.

This is just what he needs right now.

Stress on top of stress. And let's not forget the heat stroke.

"Thirty year-old male, suffering from heat stroke after being missing for two days. He was knocked out using Chloroform for hours at a time, while being left in the desert. He's severely dehydrated and can't tolerate water. He has three cold IVs running to hopefully get his temperature down. It went from 104 to 102.9 last time I checked. He also has a severe headache, so try not to yell."

"Okay. What's his name?" one of the paramedics asks.

"Jay" all four of us respond at the same time, making the paramedic give us a puzzled look.

"Jay?" she says quite loudly, rubbing a hand on his sternum, which only results in him freaking out even more. "Can you hear me, sweetheart?"

After a couple more tries she turns towards me. "Has he been like this the whole time?"

I have to think about that one for a second. "He was unconscious when we found him, woke up really confused and disoriented, passed out again and woke up way more coherent than the first time. He's still kinda out of it, though."

"Okay, what about the freaking out bit? When did that start?"

"It's been on and off the whole time. Ultimately, he got freaked out by the helicopter." After earning a confused look, I feel the need to further explain. "He used to be a soldier."

That earns an oh from the paramedic. Yeah... oh.

She tells the other paramedic to get the back board, before trying to get through to Jay once again.

"Jay? My name's Sarah and I'm a paramedic. I'm here to help you, okay?"

It takes all four of us to keep Jay from hurting anybody, including himself.

"I'm just giving you something to stop the shivering, okay?" the paramedic says, emptying a syringe of muscle relaxant into one of his IV accesses.

Once the second paramedic gets back with the backboard, I can see the way this is gonna go.

The second that Jay realizes he's being strapped down, all hell's gonna break loose and we're all gonna go down in flames.

I'm just hoping he passes out before it comes to that.

We all try giving him our own versions of the same pep-talk as we roll him on his side, while the paramedics slide the back board underneath him. They put a cooling blanket over it, before motioning for us to put Jay back down, flat on his back.

Now comes the hard part.

He's screaming his lungs out now, while wrestling us as if his life depended on it. I really don't know where he got the energy from. Survival instinct, I guess.

Al is basically hugging Jay from behind, successfully pinning both of his arms against his chest. Voight's pinning his ankles down, using all of his weight, while Antonio is holding his thighs. That leaves me to do the actual strapping down part.

Knowing that his upper body's gonna be the hard part, I decide to do that first. As soon as I draw the first strap across his upper chest, he starts screaming for his life, making my ears and heart bleed. His fingers are clawing at my hands, visibly scared that I'll hurt him.

Once I come to the conclusion that there's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to strap his arms down, the paramedic pulls out the soft restraints.

I decide I will not be the person, who puts my own brother in restraints that I know he'll hate, so I grab both of his hands and let her do the dirty work.

Once we have his upper body strapped to the back board, I move on to the legs, while the paramedics starts connecting Jay to the machines.

He keeps freaking out as she attaches the sticky pads from the heart monitor to his chest and earns and angry sounding beep from the machine in response.

A proper arm workout later, we have him cocooned in the space blanket, together with all of the IVs and ice packs, everything strapped into place.

He's cursing in a way that would make our mother want to wash his mouth with soap, so I try my best to block it out and occupy myself with examining the bright orange straps.

I don't know how much time passes, but the next thing I'm aware of is my name being said.

And the voice saying it, is my brother's.

"Wi-" gasp. "Will Halstead. Get Will." He pauses and takes a couple shaky breaths. I'm about to say something really excited, when he continues. "Find Will Halstead. Tell him I'm sorry."

I'm frozen in place with my mouth wide open. So is Antonio and so is Al. Voight on the other hand, looks as pale as a ghost.

"Who's that? Who's Will Halstead?" the paramedic asks upon noticing our shocked faces, clearly aware of the fact that there's more to this story than she knows.

"Me" I deadpan, making her eyebrows arch up.

"And who are you?" she asks me, since the name Will Halstead doesn't mean anything to her.

"I'm his brother."

That makes her gasp.

Jay keeps mumbling that he needs Will Halstead, he needs to find his brother and he needs to tell him he's sorry.

And I'm right there, holding his hand. Except he can't see me.

"Alright, you're coming with us, while the rest of you can meet us at the hospital" the paramedic announces, so we help carry Jay to the helicopter, before Jay's team rushes back towards the car, while I'm given a set of noise-blocking headphones.

I let them sit in my lap, wanting to hear what my brother's saying, no matter how much it hurts.

I can see tears slipping down his cheeks.

He seems so scared.

"Heey, I'm right here. We got you back, buddy" I say, squeezing his hand. "I'm here. Tell me what's wrong."

"I want mom."

Oh God.

The paramedic gives me a sympathy look- "I'm sorry. I can't knock him out..." She trails off as I nod in understanding. I know she can't give him anything in the field unless she absolutely has to.

I think this would be a good enough reason to sedate someone, but I know how dangerous it can be when you don't know what you're dealing with. So I say nothing.

Jay keeps sobbing out the three-letter word, desperately calling for the person who could always make the worst pain go away. The person who only exists in the other world. The one person, I can't bring to him, no matter how badly I want to.

So I grab his hand.

And talk.

"Jay, I'm right here. It's okay. You're going to be okay. I know everything seems crazy right now, but we found you. We're gonna get you help, you're going to be okay. Trust me. I'm right here."

Something in my speech seems to grab his attention, because his whispers grow silent and his teary eyes slowly look over to me.

"Don't leave me" he whispers. I don't know if that was meant for me, or someone only he can see, but I latch onto the words as if they were my lifeline.

"I won't, Jay. I promise. I won't."

And with that, the chopper takes off towards Med.

Will's P.O.V.

It's been an eventful day to say the least, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad it was close to being over.

After being brought in, Jay's rectal temperature refused to drop below 102 degrees, despite the cold IVs and ice packs, so the doctor opted for sedating him in order to do all the necessary tests and treatment.

The blood tests confirmed increased levels of potassium and decreased gas levels, which could indicate damage to the nervous system and internal organs. After being pumped full of fluids to counteract the severe dehydration, the urine test came back clear and kidney failure was successfully avoided. Muscle function tests didn't show any significant damage and neither did the scans. In fact, all the imaging tests came back completely clear. Not even a concussion.

After being immersed in cold water for quite a while, Jay's temperature finally broke.

Eight hours later, I'm sitting in a hospital chair, holding one of my brother's hands as he sleeps.

He's wrapped in a special cooling blanket to prevent his fever from spiking again and the nasal cannula is providing him some extra oxygen, just to make sure his lungs get enough air as he sleeps off the side effects of Chloroform. His wrists are wrapped in white bandages, the IVs are still there as is the catheter to keep an eye on his kidney function, but other than that he's okay. Well, as okay as he can be.

I'm still worried about his mental state as no one really knows what he's been through before being knocked out. He might remember, he might not. He might be fine, he might not. Whatever the case, I need to give him all the support he needs. If that's protecting him from evil doctor pokes, so be it. If that's chasing away bad dreams, I'll stay awake all night if I have to. If that's wiping away tears, I'll buy all of the tissues in the world. If that's searching for words to describe it, I'll wait and listen. If it's not asking questions, I can do that too.

And we have a whole team, a second family, behind us for support.

We'll figure it out as we go.

I share a look with Voight, who's been standing beside me this whole time, refusing to leave until he was sure Jay would be okay.

"What a day, huh?" he says patting my shoulder, successfully lightening the mood.

I manage a small laugh, just as he motions for me to look at Jay. I can feel a nervous knot form in my stomach, before I turn my head to see two baby blue eyes staring back at me.

"Hey" I say, earning a smile from him.

"I think I'm done with desert getaways" Jay whispers. I can't help but laugh at that and I can hear Voight chuckle behind me. Tears stream into my eyes, and I can't help mself. I know that he's here. Actually here.

"Yeah, me too" I whisper, not bothering to wipe the tears away. I'm never letting go of his hand again. Well at least until he tells me to and threatens to put hot sauce in my lunch.

His eyes still look hazy and his pupils are blown, but for just a second, I can see the spark in them.

And I can breathe again.

I know, everything's gonna be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually... we'll be okay.

He closes his eyes again, seemingly a lot calmer than he was before.

"I'm gonna head home for a while, okay?" Voight says, standing up and cracking his back. "Call me if you need anything." He stands up, patting Jay's leg and whispering what sounds like you did good, kiddo, rest up.

I thank him for everything before wishing him a decent night of sleep, before trying my best to melt the chair and my body into one for the night, and drifting off to sleep myself.

However, the second the door closes, Jay's eyes snap open.

I guess he wasn't sleeping after all.

"Will?" he asks in a voice that is so broken and pure it almost makes my heart break.

"Yeah?"

"Is this real?"

I pause.

He keeps blinking at me with those baby blue innocent eyes who've seen some of the worst and most horrible things in the world, and yet they still carry so much kindness and love in them.

I know what he's asking me.

Is this just a dream he's gonna have to wake up from and end up being back in that desert? Back in the unknown, back in the hands of somebody wishing to hurt him? Scared and all alone?

He's looking for a lifeline. Something he can grab onto whenever he's lost in between both worlds, our world and his world, and doesn't know which way to go.

Doesn't know which way's home.

"Yes, Jay" I whisper, grabbing his hand. "This is real."

The end. Or is it?

It might seem like this story ends here, but it might not. (Or in other words, I made a promise to one of you about a certain prompt, and this particular story might be the place to include it). I haven't decided yet, so this particular story may or may not have a follow-up chapter at some point in this century. It might be the next chapter, it might be later on down the line. Who knows.

On a more serous note, I have a proposal. I've been wanting to write about a certain disease, that has probably effected all of our lives in one way or another. The c-word has always hit close to home for me for several reasons as I'm sure it has for many of you. Such a disease is clearly a lot different from what I normally write about, so I would like your opinion on this, before I actually make a move. I don't wish to offend anyone and I most certainly don't want to cause anyone any pain or sorrow. So... would you even be interested in such a story and if so, would you rather I post it here or separately and continue this story with the traditional type of injured/hurt Jay we have going on? Thank you in advance for your input on this. Either way, nothing's set in stone yet, I have some really exciting things planned and (at least for now) we shall continue on with the classic Jay whump we all know and love.

I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It took forever to write and it's still kinda all over the place… Thank you for reading and please leave me a review, if you can. Until next time.

Love, N