Sickening (A Lams Story)

Today is gonna be a good day, and here's why

...

Alex awoke with a gasp, looking around the room frantically. He panted, sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He let out a sigh and flopped backward, running a hand through his hair.

"Nightmare?" John mumbled, having woken up. It was pitch black in the bedroom, late. His nightlight wasn't turned on and his digital clock had gone out for some reason. John suspected the batteries died or Alex unplugged it to plug in his phone.

"Yeah," Alex breathed out. He grabbed his phone, checking the time. "It's four twenty six," he said.

John hummed, head pounding. "What time do we have to leave?"

Alex turned off his phone and tossed it on the bedside table. He sighed. "We should probably leave after breakfast," he said, scooting closer to John. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts," John muttered. "Can you do that thing where you rub circles on my stomach?"

Alex sighed, exasperated. "You're just so needy, aren't you?" he teased, cracking a smirk. He set his hand on John's stomach, feeling the fabric of the tee shirt, and then began to trace small circles that sent shivers up John's spine.

John's eyes closed and black and red spots danced behind his eyelids. He felt a heavy weight on his chest while Alex's fingertips tingled on John's stomach. He fell back asleep to the sound of Alex's gentle humming through the dark.

When he woke up again, he sat up straight and looked around, noticing Alex wasn't there. He stumbled out of bed and out of the bedroom, finding his way downstairs.

Alex was sat at the dining room table, staring down at his phone, drinking a cup of coffee. A small smile traced his lips before he dropped it and took another sip from his coffee.

"Where's everyone?" John mumbled.

Alex shrugged, not looking up from his phone. "Your mother took your siblings somewhere," he answered, and sipped his coffee. He set his phone down. "I dunno. Somewhere."

John leaned in the entrance way. "What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Nine?" Alex checked his phone. "Nine. We should probably leave now. If you still want to go to the funeral."

"Yeah. I think we should," John said. "Forgiveness right?"

"That's not why we're going. We're going to pay our respects to a guy who was friends with you at some point in time," Alex pointed out, and stood up. He placed his coffee mug in the sink. "A'ight, let's get going. So go get yourself dressed, and brush your hair; it's a mess."

John jogged upstairs, while Alex followed slowly behind. John closed his bedroom door and pulled on a pair of black jeans, a grey-ish tee shirt, and his usual black and white converse. He walked out of his room and into the bathroom where Alex was brushing his teeth.

"We're actually wearing black?" he asked.

"I mean," John said, picking up his toothbrush. "Isn't that what you wear to a funeral?"

"I guess, but doesn't that seem a little..." Alex leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth. "A little weird? Like, don't we kind of lose the privilege of...that?"

"I thought we'd try to blend in." John shrugged. "You wear black anyway, so it's not like you have to change."

"You right," Alex said, looking down at himself. He smoothed out his shirt.

John brushed his teeth and then pulled a brush through his curls while Alex leaned in the entrance way and stared at his phone. "Okay," he said, and tossed the brush aside.