These Last Days

9. L O ST B OY(s)

Nick's POV

I went away with the weight of what happened heavy upon my shoulders.

The plane had taken off, but I could barely move, barely see outside the window, I was only accompanied by the bellowing roar of the earth shattering down seemingly below us, the reverb of the hums coming from the engine, and the guttural screams. for a minute, it was just screams.

All over, like a trapped mist that had escaped its echoing confinements and consumed me. All I could hear were the damn screams of the people begging to get in the plane doors and then the silence snuffing them out. It eased for a second and what was left was the wails down the aisle coming from Shawn.

I still couldn't move, my hands were still stained with Shawn's blood, my shirt soaked in it. I knew a panic attack was coming on, I could feel the bile rise in my throat, my eyes water, my hands tremble, my skin went subatomic. I was down within seconds.

"Oh no you don't."

Meadow caught my left arm and I almost pulled her down with me as she half swung, half dragged me to an aisle seat of the jet. My head banged hard against the edges, my hands clenched hard onto the armrests, the ferocity in my strength scared me, I felt like the plane was going down. In my head it was, everything was going straight down.

All I could imagine was just a shattered grey L.A drowning into the earth. I didn't know I was shaking until I heard Meadows voice.

"Nick, snap out of it, were off the ground, in the air. Were okay. Okay, baby?"

My vision seemed gray, it was a subtle purgatory I'd been floating in and her voice was an almost melodic demand scraping the air, that is until I felt a hard palm shaped pain smear across my face.

"NICK! c'mon man look at me! We're all here, you're OK. Shawn's going to be okay, do you hear me? Shawn's. Going. To. Be. Okay. I need you to catch your damn breath already, he needs you by his side."

I was just sat in a unmoving spiral, watching someone bleed, hearing my heartbeat boom and crack through my ribs. The plane suddenly jolted right and I was slammed back into my seat again, more panic raised as our new companions screamed all their eyes glued to the remaining light shining through the small oval frames.

from the outside, I could see that the plane was maneuvering its way through a maze of breaking and burning skyscrapers, black smoke spewed and flames had whipped so close that they had almost licked the bottom of the hull causing another abrupt shake.

The fighter jet guiding us to the island infront wasn't as useful as I thought I'd be, since it had just pulverized right through the top of the Westin building. Everything just went to hell from there.

We made it out, again, just barely. From my side all I could see behind me was just destruction. downtown Los Angeles was simply gone in a manner of minutes. The tarmac? Gone. The infirmary? Gone too. We were the last ones out.

It was hard to remember what exactly happened. I knew parts of the infirmary had caught flame, that the east end of the tarmac had gone under, but I couldn't comprehend why everything was happening so fucking fast. It was like watching a dream, a well coordinated disastrous dream with no means of letting up.

Bex and Havana had apparently made it through the wreckage, their skinned knees and damp foreheads barely pulling up off of the hatch at the end of the plane. They had brought a crowd with them. Some tall lanky dude, said he was some lifeguard slash medi-trainee, he was still in his red board shorts and worn thin red cross sweater, Bruce or Bryce or something.

The worst of the worst of worst was over, I guessed. I didn't know who was flying the plane, to be honest I didn't really care. I was grateful to whoever had saved our lives but had our lives really been saved? A majority of the people we all knew were probably dead. It was a dreadful thought and I wanted to cry, wanted to curl against something and cry til I died.

We were all gathered in a circle, mixed in different aisles of the midsection of the plane as we watched Bryce, that was his name, stitch up and patch up Shawn's wound.

Shawn's face was beyond the extremities of pale, he had a faint scarlet stain perched on his lips, and his shaking wouldn't cease. The aftershock of his shock had dissipated, his shivering was a low but constant buzz. he was sat back without a shirt on, only a medley of bandages wrapped around his torso and crossed over and under his armpit. Even looking ragged, I still found him kinda hot.

I had salvaged whatever complimentary blankets I could find from the back, draped them along Shawn's frame, and sat adjacent to him. He tried his best to curl up against me but the pain must've been too much, I settled my head on his good shoulder and he did the same, his head leaning against mine. I was reluctant to hold his hand, but the world could've been ending and despite it all, I was rather lonely. I did it anyway and it seemed to have relaxed him more.

Once the turbulence had ended, Havana limped towards us. Her right leg scratched up but also bandaged. She did a lot to get us here, I knew I had to repay her. She held out her hand, 2 red and yellow capsules uncurled from her palm. Her eyes said take them and I slowly did, nervously though. Did she really trust me with these? Her eyes flared again and I swear I hated when she knew my answer before anyone else.

"They're for you and Shawn. Bryce, that dude who just saved Shawn's life found them in his medpack. They're a blend of antianxiety meds and painkillers. Please use wisely, junior."

She kissed my forehead, and Shawn's as well and sat in the last seat in our three chaired row. She leaned against the window and sprawled her light legs and feet onto my lap. I handed her a spare blanket and she used it to cushion a pillow against her head and fell asleep instantly. I didn't blame her, I mean.. She looked like crap. Her face was smeared with soot, blood had stained her short shorts and her hair was beyond blown out, but I didn't blame her. She practically saved all of our lives finding that Bryce guy.

All I was, was grateful at this point. Shawn stirred and eased himself deeper into my neck, the feeling was strange but it could've last forever and I'd still be more than content to have him here breathing beside me.

After we both took our meds, he soon too fell asleep. Our breathing syncopated which eased me more than it should've, or maybe that was the drugs kicking in but I somehow knew Shawn was in much more pain than I was in, and all I could offer him was my bloodied stupid hand to hold.

I had hoped my presence would be enough, I hoped my whole self would be enough. I barely knew him but I wanted to be enough for him. More than enough. My hope lingered like a fog that soon clouded over me entirely.

Instinctively I found myself leaning in closer to him, wrapping the other blankets around us, fucking craving his warmth that he emitted even in his broken state and wanting to preserve it. And despite all the fear, death, and pain that possibly awaited our fated flight, I closed my eyes. I felt the fluidity in my veins soften with the blend of the medication, I listened to his breathing.

And I let go.