A Piece of Me (Tracob)

Open Your Eyes

The house is cold. It has that feeling of being unlived-in. There's a bag of chips out on the counter and glasses of sparkling water, and when I see that, it makes my chest ache so bad, and my eyes burn with tears because it's just a reminder that they should be here, Sage and Troye. They were just going out for a second. None of this should have happened. I tell myself that I won't cry, not now. Not cause of a fucking bag of chips.

Nash comes padding softly from the couch. Jed and Ruthie have been feeding him and making sure he's okay, but I can sense that he's anxious. I can just tell and it breaks my heart. Nash won't understand if Troye never comes home again, never cuddles him or kisses him or plays with him again. Nash won't understand why his best friend left. Nash won't ever know why he doesn't get to hear Troye make up silly songs and sing them to him in the mornings while he makes breakfast. I sink into the floor and bury my face in his soft fur, trying so so hard not to sob. The thought of Troye never singing again breaks me. Not only the fact that I'll never get to hear his angel-soft voice echo throughout the house, but the fact that the whole world will lose something. Never seeing him get on a stage and sing with his entire heart and soul, never seeing him perform for a single person again. The thought of seeing media articles reporting his passing makes me sick. The possibility of thousands of people gathering all over, lighting candles, making memorials, remembering the blue eyed boy from Australia.

I don't want to think about it, I don't want to consider that a day or a week or a month from now that could be happening. I fall asleep there on the floor, holding back tears, but too exhausted to cry.

I woke up sore and headachey, so I take an ibuprofen and shower. My phone rings as I make my way to the kitchen, determined to eat something or clean up or do anything productive. Troye's mother is calling me. I stop in my tracks to answer her.

"Laurelle," I nearly sob as I choke out her name.

"Jacob? I'm just calling to let you know that we're on our way to LA, all of us are coming. I called Sagey but she said you went home to rest. I just wanted to tell you."

"Okay, okay. You should come, of course. You guys can all stay here, everything will be fine, don't worry about it." I'm reassuring myself much more than her, because the sound of her voice has just brought everything crashing down again, painful and comforting at the same time. She reminds me of Troye a lot in the way she speaks, but it also calms me down because Laurelle is a mother figure to me nearly as much as my own. She's never made it anything less than absolutely clear that I'm family too.

"Jacob, darling? Are you okay?" Laurelle's voice is gentle, full of concern. My ears burn with tears, absolutely exhausted from pushing down the urge to cry. I give myself away by taking a shuddery breath and exhaling shakily. "Oh, Jacob. It's going to be okay, we'll all be okay, my boy."

I feel terrible because Laurelle is here providing me with comfort as I fall apart, when I should be the one reassuring her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "Troye is your baby. That's your son, you should be the one - I'm so sorry, Laurelle."

"Troye is strong." Her voice shakes as she speaks. "Ever since he was a little boy, he was always stronger than we knew. He's determined. He'll fight, because he knows how much he has to fight for. How much is waiting for him when he wakes up."

I nod, even though some part of me knows Laurelle can't see me.

"Go be with him, okay? Be with him until we can be. You and Sage, you stay with him, stay with him so -" she breaks off, not wanting to voice her thoughts but I know what she was going to say.

Stay with him because if Troye dies he should die with as many of us with him as possible. Stay with him so he doesn't leave this world all by himself. Stay with him so he's never alone, because he deserves better than that.