Chapter Text
"Jer?"
A muffled whimper on the opposite phone line.
"Are you alright?"
"...Micha-" Jeremy started, before a burst of heavy sobs tumbled out of his mouth.
"I'm coming over, bud, please hang in there. I'll be there in five."
Michael understood that this happened with Jeremy a lot, especially post-Squip, but that didn't stop the dread pooling in his stomach. Since the Squip was deactivated, it left gashes in Jeremy's life. His self-hatred quadrupled, and every step he took seemed to be in fear.
He quickly dropped his video game controller, shoving his phone in his pocket. Michael stumbled towards the front door, sloppily pulling on his shoes in the process.
The Filipino teen's hands trembled as the twisted the keys in the ignition of his PT Cruiser, hastily pulling out of the driveway.
He will admit that he might have been speeding a little, and he was thankful no police officers were around.
Michael arrived at Jeremy's in what seemed to be seconds, even though his best friend lived a few blocks down. His head felt heavy and fuzzy, and he prayed that Jeremy was alright. He thought about last time this happened, and his stomach turned.
Blood covered the sink, floor, and Jeremy, and it seeped into his favorite cardigan. A razor clattered to the floor as Jeremy's wide eyes fluttered at the sight of Michael standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry," the small boy whispered.
Michael shoved the memory aside as tears threatened to spill out of his chocolate eyes. Jeremy was his best friend: he wouldn't, and couldn't, let that happen again.
He clambered up Jeremy's front steps, not bothering to knock. The door easily swung open, revealing a shivering brunet huddled on the wood floor, right in front of the entrance.
Jeremy's hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead, and his head drooped. His eyes were so puffy that they were almost closed, and the dark circles under his eyes made his face seem sunken in and empty. He was a mess, but still Michael thought he looked absolutely...beautiful.
"Jeremy," Michael sputtered, skidding to the floor and crouching by his side.
Jeremy's gaze was miles away; Michael didn't even know if his best friend knew he was there. This happened now, too. Jeremy would completely zone out when he had panic attacks, sometimes for hours on end. Both boys were terrified of this happening, and Michael did everything he could to keep Jeremy from reaching this point.
Michael shifted so he was sitting in front of Jeremy.
"Hey, Miah, can you hear me?" He gently asked, carefully taking Jeremy's hand. He rubbed circles on the pale skin with his thumb, and eventually Jeremy's focus shifted to Michael.
"Mike," he meekly murmured. His eyes were half-lidded, and it seemed to be a struggle for Jeremy to keep them open.
"Please talk to me," Michael begged, grasping Jeremy's hand tighter.
"I-Michael-pleasehelpmeicantstopit," Jeremy sobbed, his shoulders hunching. He pulled his hand free from Michael's, forcefully rubbing his eyes.
"Jeremy, hey," Michael soothed, pulling Jeremy's hands from his eyes.
The small boy looked so fragile, so vulnerable, and Michael felt his heart twist at the sight. Jeremy continued to sob, his breathing speeding up rapidly until he was close to hyperventilation.
"Breathe with me, Miah, please," Michael whispered, urging Jeremy to follow his deep breaths. Jeremy's breathing eventually went somewhat back to normal, as did his shaking. His eyes were wild with fear as he continued.
"I'm just-" he hiccuped before continuing. "So scared that...it...is going to come back."
Michael gently wiped the tears off Jeremy's cheek, letting his hand linger on the side of his face. Jeremy leaned into the touch, his ocean eyes fluttering closed.
"If it does, we're gonna kick its ass, man," Michael lightly chuckled. Jeremy managed a weak smile, which was certainly better than nothing.
"I'm not going to leave you. I'll always be right here, alright? We're in this together."
As soon as the words left Michael's mouth, Jeremy launched himself into Michael lap, sobbing into his hoodie. Michael wrapped his arms around the brunet, pulling him into his chest.
Michael nestled his nose in Jeremy's soft curls, lightly rubbing his best friend's back as sobs racked his body.
"I'm...I'm sorry," Jeremy whimpered.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, mahal ko," Michael sighed.
"Whasitmean," Jeremy mumbled. Michael chuckled.
"Take a guess," he urged.
Jeremy groaned, pressing his head farther in the the crook of Michael's neck. He paused, mumbling something incoherent.
"Speak up, bud," Michael murmured, still holding Jeremy close.
"Will you...uh..sing?" Jeremy stammered.
"Of course, palanggâ," Michael said. "Any requests?" He asked, softly chuckling.
Jeremy shrugged, shifting in Michael's arms so their noses were almost touching.
Michael smiled lopsidedly, and began singing the first song that came to mind.
Whether near or far,
I am always yours.
Any change in time
We are young again.
Lay us down,
We're in love.
Lay us down,
We're in love.
Jeremy's eyes lit up in recognition of the Panic! At The Disco song, and he began to hum softly along with Michael's singing.
In these coming years,
Many things will change.
But the way I feel
Will remain the same.
Michael gently wiped a tear away that was streaming down Jeremy's freckled cheek.
Lay us down,
We're in love.
Lay us down,
We're in love.
Michael's voice faded out as the song ended, and he found that Jeremy's eyes had fluttered closed, and his chest rose and fell calmly.
He carefully stood, cradling the sleeping boy in his arms, and carried him across the house to his bedroom.
The teen placed Jeremy on his bed, rearranging his stick-like limbs, and tucked the pale blue comforter around him.
Michael reached out, brushing a honey-colored curl from Jeremy's face. He noted how peaceful the boy looked: despite the tear stains streaking his face, an almost-smile was evident.
God, Michael would do anything for this boy.
He sunk down on the edge of the bed, deeply sighing, and ran a hand through his dark hair.
"Mahal ko," he whispered. "It means my love."