Out of Time [Brian Jones]

One More Try

*
Things will get better if you really try
So don't ya panic don't ya panic
Give it one more try  
*

The tea did help a bit. My throat still ached, but it was at a tolerable level now and comparing it to the state I was in, it probably was my least worry. My whole body felt bad. I had a flipping headache and I felt weak all over. I probably should be resting, but there were matters, which needed to be discussed and Brian didn't give me the impression that he wanted to wait the whole day for answers. He sat opposite of me and was directly facing me without saying anything. The last time he had talked, had been when he had handed me the cup. I supposed he wanted me to make the first step, even though I wondered if he would if I waited long enough. He took a sip out of his glass, which strongly looked like Whiskey or Scotch.

I cleared my throat. "Thank you for saving me and for everything you've done." My voice still was bad, but it was good enough to speak now and I really needed to get at least that thank you out.

"Why did you do it?" Brian looked at me and like the first night I've met him I found myself captivated by eyes. They had something about them. I couldn't really put my finger on it. At first I had thought it were because of the drugs, but now that couldn't be the case and I wondered what he was hiding behind them.

I shook my head. "Actually it was an accident."

"You were about to jump."

I sighed. "I was drunk..." He examined me like he could find out the truth by observing me. I felt rather uneasy under his gaze and I looked away.

"It can't be just that... You... I" He started, but didn't finish and I didn't say anything either. He sighed. "What did you mean with I'm dying the same way as you?" I didn't look up, but I could still feel his eyes on me. I suppose he was watching me for a reaction, but I was trying to stay as calm as I could, even if I was a bit astonished that he had caught that and nearly wanted to hit myself for being so stupid to say something like this in the first place. I should have told him the whole truth, while I was at it... There's no better topic than telling someone he's going to die in a few months. Yes that sounded promising... On the other hand he had always suspected that there was something about me, but if I really told him the truth now would that work? I never had told anybody about it, so why should I make an exception for him? Although I supposed I had to tell him something, if I wanted to help him... I owned him that much after he had saved me, even if the changes seemed slim that I could do anything at all or that he would believe me...

I had no idea how much time I spent there thinking, without saying anything, when he finally broke the silence. "I can see your pain and your guilt. You're broken and dead inside. That's why, isn't it? You're like me..." I looked at him, but didn't meet his eyes. They were cast downwards towards his hands, which nervously played around with the glass.

I didn't really know what to say. I was like him? What did he mean? It just sounded odd. I never believed I was like anybody else with the visions and everything else... Even if I didn't consider them, I was a poor and rather average employee at a funeral parlour and he was a rich and famous musician. As far as I could see we couldn't be more apart, even with the pain and guilt part considered, whatever he had meant.

"I have 5 children, whom I not know. Mick and Keith want to have me out of the band, my band. Society thinks me messed up and so do I. I'm a horrible person, you said it yourself. Some days I just wish it was all over. The drugs and alcohol help, but it never is enough... I get why you jumped..." He hadn't looked once at me and was still starring into his glass like it held some answers.

Why was he telling me this? I mean I was a stranger to him, but maybe that's why, because I could hardly judge him? I was the one who had wanted to jump and end it. For him it must indeed look like we were similar in that aspect or that I could at least see where he was coming from... Even if I had no idea what I was supposed to do with this knowledge now...Perhaps this gave me a chance to tell him about his death, if I played the right cards?