It's been four weeks. Ian hasn't woken up from that coma he was in; Anthony forced himself to stay with the other every step of the way- he swore he could feel his sanity draining away with every day he sat there and watched his nearly dead friend. His companion.
"Come on, Ian..." He whispered, "Wake up already- you can't give up so fucking easily!" It was tough for him, having to endure lonely days and nights with no one to talk to or even smile at. He could barely even give his own girlfriend a real smile, everything seemed so dull now, everything faded since Ian began to slip away.
Unbearable. Life without the other man would be just that: unbearable. Anthony couldn't picture himself in a world without his best friend, smosh, or all their happy adventures. Now that he thought about it...smosh has been losing it's subscribers recently; he can't scroll through the comments anymore- everyone was completely against them. Most were demanding more episodes when Anthony had clearly posted that Ian was in a coma. They were all so inconsiderate.
There he was again, getting lost in his own thoughts, fingers in his hair as his eyes faced the floor. He wasn't even sure what to do anymore, why is this happening? Why them? Why now? He couldn't understand why these things were happening- was it him? Did he do something wrong?
"Anthony..."
Fuck, now he was going insane. He swore he heard-
"...Anthony?"
Startled out of his stupor, the darker haired man looked up at the source of the voice in shock; he couldn't even speak.
"...Sn...snap out of it, dude." Chuckled the blue eyed man, clearly disoriented and in the stages of waking up, "...What...going on...?" He mumbled out, still in a daze from being so deeply asleep.
"Oh my god..." He whispered, eyes widening as he stepped closer to the man, "...Ian...you're awake!" He smiled, immediately leaning over the bed to hug the other in a tight embrace, before detaching himself from the shorter man, "I'm so glad- you...I thought you were gone, man. I thought I was going to lose you..."
Ian stared at the other strangely, "What happened?" He spoke quietly, or even quieter than he was already speaking, "I...I can't remember a thing."
"You knocked out when we went for ice cream, man...you...you said you wanted to die- I thought I was going to lose you, man." Whispered Anthony, staring at the other worriedly, holding back the tears of happiness that threatened to spill, "Don't do that again."
"...I won't." Uncertainly murmured Ian, feeling horrible at what he made his friend go through, "I'm sorry, Anthony."
"Don't be sorry- it's not your fault." Stated the Mexican man, "Just...never say you want to die, ever again."
Border Line
Border Line
Finally arriving into their now slightly messy home, they both smiled and went to sit by the couch, relieved to finally be home. They sat in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each others presence.
"You want to do a Meal Time with Smosh? Or Ian is bored?" Spoke up Ian, still smiling lightly, "The fans are probably a bit upset by now...we've been gone for a while, haven't we?" He murmured, looking out the window, lost in his thoughts, "...I can't believe I was knocked out for four weeks."
Anthony sighed, "Let's just be glad that's over." He then whispered under his breath, "And hope I didn't say that too soon." Standing from his seat, "Let's just tell the fans that we're taking a break from smosh for a while...with a short video, alright?" He smiled, "It's not like we're ending it, I'm just going to tell them you fell ill again and we're taking another break to make sure you're fine."
"But won't they think we're just milking them?" Muttered Ian, "We've been gone for weeks."
The taller male shook his head, "I think you look sick enough...but if you want, you could lay in bed and pretend to be sicker than you actually are."
Ian thought about it for a while, stroking his light stubble, "How about we make an episode about it? You know...I want to make the situation lighter than it really is- I don't like to worry them, just make them laugh and I can be happy." He smiled innocently.
"Alright then, but not right away- rest for a while you just got out of the hospital." Stated the other, giving back a smile.
Border Line
Border Lone
They had already finished the video- or more Anthony than anything else; in the middle of recording, Ian had been struck with a strange cough, prompting Anthony to stop the video and make it much more serious instead. He has made it clear that Ian won't be too well for a while, and he needs to rest as much as he can.
After a grueling hour, the tanned man finally finished and began posting it to their main YouTube channel, not even checking to see if it had uploaded correctly before leaving to be with Ian. The many steps it took to get to the others room were quick and fast paced, leaving the shorter man by himself for even a second was frightening.
"Anthony!" Came a blood curdling scream from across the hallway; the Mexican man didn't hesitate to sprint over to the others room, "Anthony, help me!" Screamed Ian from the inside. Once Anthony reached the door and yanked on the knob, he found it locked and hotter than the depths of hell.
"Ian! Ian calm down, unlock the door!" He shouted back, pounding on the door repeatedly, not caring if his hands got bruised or if he broke the door, "Ian, open the door!"
There were loud sobs from the other side, "I can't see anything! It's pitch black and-" Ian had gone into a sudden coughing fit, "I swear something's in here with me!" He shrieked back, terrified at the current situation, "Anthony please help me!"
"Don't worry, I'll get you out in a second!" He hollered through the door, only to receive no reply from the hazelnut haired man, "Ian?!" He called, still no reply. Giving a shaky sigh, Anthony pulled out a black hand gun, loaded with bullets and ready to be fired; he aimed the gun to the doorknob, then fired it in an attempt to break the lock and get in the room.
Yet the door didn't even budge- instead the bullets seemed to repel from the door and fall ungracefully to the floor in front of the brown eyed man's feet, "Fucking shit-" He hissed, dropping the gun and running out of the house; he had to reach Ian this instant. Nothing stopped him from going through the door and across the grass like a hurricane's wind, knocking over anything in it's path. Eventually, he had come to a stop in front of the window: inside was pitch black, nothing could be seen.
"Ian! Ian answer me!" Begged Anthony, slamming his hands harshly onto the glass, once, twice, and on the third time it was broken. Smiling like an idiot, he broke through the glass with his already bloodied hands, shards impaling his skin like razor blades, "Don't worry, Ian!" He called out, but still did not receive a reply.
Finally breaking through the barrier, the wheat skinned man jumped in, feet landing softly onto the plush peach carpet of Ian's room, it seems that he now had to navigate with his memory through the room, "...Ian?" He whispered softly, arms reaching around him to search fr his surroundings.
Then he heard it. Weak, barely there coughs coming from where he was sure was the closet as his hands stretched across the door, "Don't worry- I've got it..." He spoke, opening the door, still unable to see anything as he searched for the body of his best friend, "Come on, give me your hand or something."
Before he could look any further, he had bumped into something by his leg, which he quickly grasped at and examined closely, fingers spreading across the hair, face, and body, "...Is that you, man?" He asked, unsure if what he was touching was Ian or not, but he was fairly sure it was, "Come on, we're getting out of here." He murmured, pulling the body up over his shoulders and slouching slightly at the increased weight brought upon him.
He began to search for the window once more, hoping to escape this place, absolutely needing Ian to be safe, the anxiety of the situation was killing him, "Don't worry, bud." He groaned out, before releasing a startled yelp as his hands were punctured by something- possibly the remaining glass on the windows, "We're getting out!" Pulling the other off of his shoulders and through the window, he quickly began to climb out himself, lucky to have escaped from the abyss.
Half way out, he could see the grassy green ground and the cloudy blue skies, but there was something wrong. What he grabbed wasn't Ian; it was a bloodied, rotting corpse of a small girl, maggots and other disgusting creatures infesting the body, consuming it with gluttony. "...O-oh...." Choked out Anthony, looking ready to puke, "Oh God." He hissed, covering his mouth to keep from vomiting.
Suddenly, like a snake striking down it's prey, Anthony felt a harsh tug on his jeans, accidentally sending his stomach to clash into the broken window, wounding him badly as the glass penetrated through his skin and possibly into some organs, before he was roughly pulled back down into the abyss. "Ugh!" With a thud and loud groaning, he landed on the floor, feeling the blood pooling out through the large gashes on his stomach. He was beginning to feel disoriented, and slightly nauseous, "Fuck!" He screamed, clutching his abdomen at the searing pain that cut through his skin.
He could hear the slight cries of someone else in the room, but his mind didn't seem to process it well, he couldn't tell if it was Ian, or what it was. All he wanted right now was to make the burning pain stop, but that whimpering continued to get louder, and louder.
Continuing to raise in volume until it was transformed into full blown screaming and shouting at something to stop, what could it have been? "Ian?!" Called Anthony from his position on the floor, "Ian where are you?!" He cried out, then went back to toughening himself up, "This pain is a bitch." He hissed, but continued to call for the other, "Ian! Ian answer me!"
"Anthony, save me!" The shouts were then muffled by something, as if a hand was forcing the other to stay quiet, "Stop!" Screamed Ian, voice still muffled by something.
Looking around, the taller man still couldn't source the voice, nor could his eyes adjust to the midnight darkness. Quickly scrambling to help Ian, he had stood up from his position and walked around the room, reaching and grabbing at anything that he could, but there was nothing, he could not see Ian, he could not touch him, and he could not hear the origins of the voice, "Ian!!"
In the flash of an eye, there was a blinding white light that zoomed past the Mexican man's deep brown eyes, yet still rendering him blind, "Answer me, dammit!" When he couldn't find the other anywhere on the floor, or on his bed, he scouted around some more, "...Why...?" He hissed, "What the fuck is going on?!" Grabbing what he supposed was a lamp, Anthony smashed it against the wall with a thundering crash as it fell to the floor, shattered into pieces.
"Anthony!" Spoke Ian, calling out to the other and trying to reach him.
Looking around, he could see his sight had come back, everything in the room seemed normal except for the broken lamp. "Ian?!"
"Up here!" Shouted the sky eyed man.
Looking up towards the ceiling, Anthony found the other, but not how he would've wanted to find him. Ian stood attached to the wall by thick, strong ropes burning into his skin and causing blood to ooze from his fresh cuts, not to mention sporting many bruises littered around his body and severe wounds on his chest and legs, "Ian..." He murmured, looking around for a moment, before spotting a small brown box where they kept their unessential items such as knifes and razor blades.
Raising himself to the ceiling by the chair that stood in front of the desktop, Anthony began to quickly cut away at the ropes that bound the other in such an uncomfortable position, "W-why are you naked?" He asked as he placed an arm around Ian's torso so he wouldn't fall.
"W-when everything went black...something just got me...it was attacking me- like an animal or something." He spoke, before hissing at the pain of moving his aching body, "My clothes must have ripped in the process- I still...I still have pieces of my jeans and shirt." By the time he stopped talking, he was already being brought down as gently as possible; which wasn't very.
"I'm calling an ambulance, alright? You're bleeding worse than I am." Whispered the taller of the two, eyes gazing over at the man's wounds, "...What the fuck is going on?" He questioned.
"......I honestly don't know." Whispered Ian, "But I'm beginning to get really fucking scared."
Border Line
Border Line
No matter what they did, it always seemed as if Ian continued to end up at the hospital, but now they were both interned there for a couple of days due to severe internal bleeding and minor concussions. While this was not a rather good place to say it, they were both glad to be in the same room as each other with the watchful eyes of nurses and doctors, knowing they were safe.
Yet through all of this, Ian still continued with that strange cough, he was beginning to sound like a tuberculosis patient; the sound of it was awful to listen to. But when it was over, anyone with a working set of eyes could see how pained Ian was by that cough; he even coughed up blood once.
"Ian, you should get the doctors to check that out for you." Begun Anthony, only to get cut off.
"I already did- he said that everything sounded fine." Ian murmured, weaker than before due to the blood loss, he felt like a piece of shit right now; he just wanted to relax but that wasn't happening.
Sighing, Anthony began to rub his temple, "What the hell is wrong with them- you're obviously sick."
Ian nodded, agreeing with the other, "Maybe it'll pass by quickly."
Anthony looked over at the sick man, still coughing into his hands roughly, "I hope so...I just want you safe, Ian. I don't know what's happening...but...it seems to be affecting you more."
