heaven in hiding 🌷 tracob

13

Jacob's pov

Thirteen Dead, Twenty- Six in for surgery, and the rest managed to get out with just bandages, casts, and a fuck ton of pain reliever. It would've been smart to have them stay to be watched but we have little to no room here right now. Everything has calmed down, it being five hours later and the room almost dead silent, just hushed mumbles coming from people chatting under their breath. They know not to be obnoxious right now, they know not to be loud. Many of them aren't talking at all, just looking at their hands and holding back tears. Some don't hold back at all, sobbing into their knees and falling apart piece by piece. We lost people today. Our People. Our numbers went from 324 to 311 just in a few hours. It was 355 this morning.

Michael walks up behind me, setting an arm on my shoulder. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, sitting down next to me on the edge of the empty bed soaked with dried blood. 

I shrug, "Not sure."

He nods, setting his hand back onto his lap. 

"Do you know what you're going to do?" He questions. 

"No."

"Do you know who did this?"

"No."

"Do you-"

"Not right now, Michael, I need to think." I regrettably snap at him, sighing and dropping my head in my hands. 

"I'm sorry, Jacob, I know today's been rough." He whispers, rubbing my back gently. 

"We'll get past it though, all of us." He adds. 

"I know... I know, you're right. I'm sorry for snapping, I'm just a little pressed over today." I mutter, rubbing my eyes and looking up at him. 

He nods in understanding, offering me a cheap smile. 

"It's okay, don't worry about it." He assures. 

I nod, looking down at the tiles that used to be pretty white. Now they're painted in blood. 

"I'm gonna make plaques for them or something. I'm not sure yet, just something to remember them... They didn't deserve to go out like this." I more or less say to myself, Michael just being there to catch my words. 

"Alright, we both know they knew what they were getting into when they accepted the job though. Because this isn't just a job, it's a life. It's a choice, it's a democracy of free will." He explains the words I explained to him when we first met. 

"Team Free Will, just like in the god-awful cliché films." He nudges my side. 

"You're right. Sometimes I just wonder if we're doing more good than bad. If what we're doing will really make a difference in the world." I mutter, watching as his head tips down and he frowns, shaking his head. 

"Of course we are, Jacob. Have you not seen all we've accomplished so far? Hundreds- fuck, maybe thousands of criminal masterminds and terrorists have been taken down by us. We've saved so, so many people from getting hurt. We're making the streets a safer place, that's what we've always done. And you wanna know who is to thank?" He inquires. 

"Hmm, who?"

"You, you started this. Jacob, you've started a revolution. Don't go doubting yourself now." Michael speaks sternly like the paternal bloke he is. 

I roll my eyes, nudging him right back. 

"Thanks, Michael, I uh- I think I needed that." I crack a smile and stand up. 

"I'll try to get down here and to the other buildings more often. I miss you guys. But for now, I've gotta get back into hiding. I hope you understand." I stretch out my back and shake my arms out. 

He nods, "We understand, all of us. You do what you have to do to stay safe. I love you, Bix, call me if you need me."

I nod once and reach my hand out. We shake our hands momentarily and then say our goodbyes. I'm out of the building and back off to my flat in no time. In fact, it almost feels like a blink of the eye when I'm back in front of the staircase leading to the window to my room. I run and jump up, clutching the bar underneath the first step and pulling myself up. 

I get up the stairs and lift the window, hopping in and slowly shutting it closed. It's ten pm, I expected for Troye to be asleep. 

When I turn around to find him sitting on the bed with two bowls of food, I furrow my brows and cock my head to the side.

"Why are you awake? And why does it smell like... what is that? Lavender?" I ask, sniffing the air. 

He smiles in what almost looks like pride, gesturing to the kitchen in the doorway. 

"Cleaned up. Here, dinner." He nods to the food in front of him on the bed he made. Well, he went all out tonight. 

"Oh, Troye, I told you that you didn't have to clean." I chuckle lightly and sit down on the bed, pulling my legs up over and crossing them. I pull my shoes off and toss them to the floor, picking up the bowl of noodles and sighing. It just then dawns upon me that I haven't eaten all day. 

He shrugs, "I don't mind."

He watches me scarf down my food, him simply stirring his noodles around in his bowl. 

"You okay? You've got blood on your arm." He points the patch of blood on my wrist from when I pulled up my sleeves and tried to revive one of my runners. 

I frown, "It's not what you think, I promise."

He furrows his brows a bit, "Did you hurt anyone?"

"No," I promise him. 

"I- something happened today. Something awful. There was a bombing and a lot of my people were hurt." I admit, setting my bowl to the side and swallowing back my sadness. 

He frowns, tears pricking at his eyes so quickly, so easily. 

"Oh my, oh- I'm, I'm sorry. Are they alright? Is everyone okay?" He asks through tears. 

The Truth, Jacob, Tell The Truth Even If It Hurts His Feelings.

I shake my head, "No, I lost forty-four today."

He covers his mouth with his hand, eyes welled to the maximum with tears. 

"That's so awful. How- how can this happen?" He inquires rhetorically. 

I take our bowls and set them on the bedside table, scooting up to the pillows and leaning against the headboard. 

"It was horrific, yes, but more than eighty got out safe." I mask up a small smile, trying to bring some light to the conversation.

That only confuses him, making him scoot up the bed until he's facing me as he shakes his head.

"I don't understand. You've got so many 'people', why did they die? Who are they?" The questions finally come. 

Finally. 

"Do you want me to explain it... all of it?" I ask.

"Please."