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"Grian?" Jimmy asks from his kneeling position on the floor, covered in blood that might be his or might be someone else's.
"Timmy," Grian responds, looking over at the man on the ground.
"I think this is where I die," he says, his eyes wet with either pain or sadness. Maybe it's both.
"Aw, c'mon Tim! You know I hate to see this happen every single time! Can't you just not be first, one time? Just make it a little longer, for once?" The older complains, knowing that he will see Jimmy again, but he truly is upset about the events that always happen during these stupid games. It's always Jimmy first, never anyone else.
"Trust me, Gri, if I could die at any point other than first I would love to. Unfortunately for me, I'm not supposed to do that." Jimmy says vaguely, moving from a kneeling position to a sitting one.
Grian growls out of frustration, "Tim, that doesn't make any sense! Maybe if you were any good at these games you would win!"
"No... That's not how it works..." The younger says, once again vaguely.
"Tim, you're making no sense. What do you mean, 'That's not how it works'?"
"It's not something you would get. I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to tell you, in all honesty."
The shorter of the two walked over and sat down next to Jimmy, an exasperated yet soft look on his face. "We've been through hell together. We know secrets of each other that, if they got out, could be detrimental to our entire reputations. What secret could you possibly have that beats that?"
It was clear he wasn't pushing, just thought that whatever Jim was talking about must be stupid and inconsequential.
Jimmy coughed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, "I don't even know, Grian. I don't even know..."
Grian stayed silent and looked at the mid-day sky with boredom.
"I can feel my hearts going down..." Jimmy sighed, "I'm almost gone."
"... I'll see you in the next game, Jim."
"Jim?"
"Shut up."
And then he did.
And Jimmy was gone.
.
.
.
"Hello, Lady Death."
"Hello, my Canary!"