Stops.
[Two Month Later]
Someone has put Sea in a hot oven and locked the door.
Someone has doused him in kerosene and lit a match.
He come awake slowly with his body on fire, consumed in flames. The sheets are cold and damp. He’s drowning in sweat. What’s happening to him? It takes a moment before he realize that there are many, many things wrong.
He’s shivering. He’s more than shivering. He’s shaking uncontrollably and his head hurts. His brain is being squeezed in a vise. Pain radiates out and crashes into the nerves behind his eyes. His body is a fresh bruise. Even his skin hurts. At first he thinks he must be dreaming, but his dreams are never this lucid. He tries to sit up, to pull the blankets closer, but he can’t. Jimmy’s still asleep and lying on top of them.
He tries again to sit up, but pain buries itself deep in his bones. The vise around his brain tightens and now there’s an ice pick stabbing indiscriminately at the soft flesh. He tries to cry out but his throat is raw, as if he’d been screaming for days and days.
He’s sick.
He’s more than sick. He’s dying.
Oh, God. Jimmy.
This is going to break his heart. Sea thought.
Jimmy awakes as soon as he thinks it. “Sea?” He asks into the dark.
He turns on the bedside lamp and Sea’s eyes burn, he squeezes them shut and try to turn away, he doesn’t want Jimmy to see him like that, but it’s too late. He watches as Jimmy’s face go from confusion, to recognition, to disbelief. Then terror.
“I’m sorry,” he says, or try to say, but he doesn’t think the words make it past his lips.
Jimmy touches his face, his neck, his forehead. “Shit,” he says, over and over again. “Shit.” He pulls the blanket off and Sea’s colder than he’s ever thought possible. “Fuck, Sea, you’re burning up.”
“I’m cold,” he croaks, and Jimmy looks even more terrified. He covers him and cradles his head, kisses his wet brow, lips.
“You’re fine,” he says. “You’re going to be fine.”
He’s not, but it’s nice of Jimmy to say so. His body pulses with pain and his throat feels like it’s swelling shut. He can’t get enough air.
“I need an ambulance,” Sea hear him say. He rolls his head around. When did he get to that side of the room? Where are we? Sea thought. Jimmy’s on the phone. He’s talking about someone. Someone sick. Someone is sick. Dying. Emergency. Pills not working.
Jimmy’s talking about him.
He’s crying. Don’t cry. You will be fine.
The bed sinks. He’s in quicksand. Someone’s trying to pull him out. Jimmy’s hands are hot. Why are they so hot? Sea’s mind is clouded.
Something glows in his other hand. It’s his phone. Jimmy’s saying something, but the words won’t come clear to Sea. Something. Mom. Your mom.
Yes. Mom. He needs his mom. She’s already on her way. He hopes she’s close.
Sea closes his eyes and squeeze Jimmy’s fingers. “I love you, Jimmy. I love you more than yesterday–”
“–but less than tomorrow. I love you too, Sea.” He sobs.
Sea’s out of time.
Oh no, this was supposed to be a happy ending but like someone once said, we can’t always get what we want.
His heart
Stops.
YOU ARE READING
You Sick Fuck (666 LUCK)
Fanfiction[JIMMYSEA] "I'll be here," Jimmy whispers desperately, pressing his lips to Sea's temple, like he can somehow ease the pain that's blooming there, but he can't make the pain stop, and no matter how hard he tries he can't make Sea better.
