To Put On An Act [bxb]

Chapter 32 - DYING IN A HOT TUB

Hell was just like Alex had imagined. Hot and cold at the same time, loud and seething, bright and blinding, wet and strangely comfortable and with a large veiled figure leaning over him.

What he hadn't expected to be a part of hell was a shorter, pink figure leaning over him as well. Then again, it may have made sense. That Margo was part of hell. That her worried cold eyes would be the first thing he'd see after dying.

"Motherfucker."

Alex blinked at her, slowly. His vision became a little clearer as he tried to focus on her face, her eyes, filled with annoyance and anger and maybe something like sadness. Oh, and relief. A shit ton of relief.

"What?"

"Stay awake, okay?"

"What?"

"Try to keep your focus on me. Stay with us."

Maybe he hadn't died. Maybe he was about to. Maybe the black shrouded figure looming behind Margo was Death herself. Holy shit. Alex couldn't believe it. He was actually dying. He'd wished for it plenty of times, so he felt like he couldn't be particularly mad about it now, but still. Kind of shitty.

But at least he knew what it was like now. At least he knew what dying felt like. Not that bad, honestly. Warm. His body was floating, gently being massaged, and some kind of strange large death angel was already waiting to take him away. That would've made a great story. Too bad he wouldn't survive to tell it.

And once he'd gone to hell, he wouldn't be able to even tell the story to the others, because they'd seen the same. It'd just be an old story. How many times had the souls down there heard the story of an angel submerging them in warmth before reaping their soul? Or maybe it was different for everyone. Everyone just sat there waiting for the next crazy story of how someone died.

"Alex." Margo's voice was firm, snapping him back, her small hands laid on his shoulders shaking him ever so gently. "Do not fall asleep."

Asleep? That was one way to put it. She should've let him, though. Pass. Leave. Have it end. He'd already stopped feeling gravity on his body, and now all there was left was for his mind to follow.

He did want it, didn't he? He wanted it a couple of days ago. He'd been wanting it for all his life. He didn't get to change his mind now, that he got what he wanted. He couldn't suddenly refuse this gift he'd been begging for this entire time.

Or did he actually want it? Like really? What exactly was it that had made the thought of death so- well, not appealing, but also not terrifying. Apathetic. If he died, well, he'd die, and maybe he'd kind of deserve it, and if he didn't, then he'd die anyway sooner or later.

Sooner, in this case. So Alex decided to wait for it to end.

It didn't end. Alex was alive. And awake. Still. Maybe death had gotten bored by his musings and let him off.

"Are you awake?"

"I guess."

"Good. Fuck you." Margo sighed, her hands sliding off Alex shoulders, her body moved away in a strange fluid motion. "Do you know where you are? How much do you remember?"

Remember? Was there anything significant to remember? It wasn't like Alex could really focus on looking back into the past. He was too occupied with the sheer discomfort of his body.

Despite his limbs floating weightlessly surrounded by warmth, his back hurt. The usual. And his head hurt. Also the usual. And his face really, really hurt, the left side of his face, his cheek, his nose. And his mouth was dry and tasted disgusting. And his throat burned. And his stomach hurt and rumbled and cried out, and everything was extremely shit.