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“I wasn’t built for this shit.” Isen yawned. He looked a light breeze away from collapsing in his chair right then.
Isen, Remi, John, and Blyke had spent all night condensing Unordinary into a smaller version, so they could spread it around. It took longer than expected. The clock flashed in bright red numbers: 4:19 AM. It hurt John’s eyes, they felt like they’d fall out if he stared at a screen for any longer.
Remi smiled and nudged Isen gently. “Hang it there! Just a couple more chapters to go!” Her smudged makeup made her look even worse than the boys, she looked half dead. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get this out to the school!”
John yawned himself, he was glad to be doing this, but sleep sounded very enticing right now. Feeling sweat bead on his forehead, John swiped the back of his hand across it. Could they turn the AC on? We have to keep going. He told himself, pushing away the small thought in the back of his mind that he might be sick. He continued typing away at his laptop, ignoring the watchful gaze of Blyke to his left.
—
“Behold! It's finally done!” Isen exclaimed with way too much energy than needed for this early in the morning, sun was finally starting to peek in through the windows. “We went a bit over,” He turned to the laptop. “But the cliffhanger’s great! No doubt people will want to keep reading.”
“Nice! The hard part’s over.” Blyke smiled with a breath of relief, peering at Isen’s laptop over Remi’s shoulder. They high-fived, grinning at each other somewhat deliriously. This lack of sleep was making them all manic.
John wanted to share their excitement, he really did, but the nausea was making it very hard. Their excited chattering grated against his ears, couldn’t they keep their voices calm? Where did they get this energy from?
Remi scrolled through the document with the condensed story, looking over the final product. “Now we just gotta run to the lab to make copies! And we can start hanging them up once school starts!”
It seemed to get ten times hotter in the room the longer John stood. He started to breathe heavier, and his eyes unfocused. “Shit.” The word barely came out. Isen’s voice hardly registered in his brain, the room was spinning. He didn’t even realize that his legs gave out until he was on the floor. He couldn’t even focus on the other’s concerns, he was just trying not to pass out at that very moment. Breaths came out heavy and uneven, his skin was burning.
Damn it…
His ability was magma running through his veins. Somebody said something, but he didn’t catch it. My whole body feels like it's on fire . When his eyes refocused, the other three were crowding around him.
“John?” Remi asked, frowning. “Are you okay?”
He hated this. He hated the looks of pity they were giving him. “Yeah-” The word came out as more of a croak. “I'm fine-” He was cut off by Blyke slapping a hand across his forehead.
Suddenly it felt a little hotter.
“Nope.” Blyke said, calling him out on his bullshit. “He's burning up.”
His cool hand left all too soon for John’s comfort; He found himself mourning the loss of contact.
Remi brows furrowed in worry, she reached a hand out towards him. “Should we take you to the infirmary? Doc can-”
Groaning, he smacked her hand away.. “I said I'm fine!” He snapped, averting his eyes from hers.
Thick tension filled the air.
“I just got dizzy all of a sudden,” He said, much kinder this time. “You guys head to school first. I'll catch up in a bit.” He shut his eyes and found it took much strength to open them again.
“I don't think that's a good idea.” Remi frowned, any offence she might have taken not noticeable. “You look like you need rest.”
As if they looked any better.
Isen nodded and crossed his arms. “A fever's not gonna make fighting the government any easier.”
John glanced up at him. He didn't even look worried. He couldn’t decide which was worse, pity or indifference?
He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
A hand gently touched his back, startling him. It was Blyke.
John felt himself flush at the touch– or maybe it was the fever.
Blyke helped him up, swinging one of John’s arms over his shoulder. “Don't worry, we'll handle the book's distribution.” Blyke looped his arm around John, his hand resting on his waist for support.
It definitely wasn’t the fever.
John almost protested, but Blyke continued as he led John to his bed. “Just take the day off, man.”
“You need the rest.” John could've sworn he heard him whisper. “You've been through enough.”
Yet it still didn't feel as though John had made up for what he'd done.
No one said another word as Blyke helped him under his covers and the others left the room. He probably would've felt embarrassed if he didn’t feel like he had one foot in the grave.
“Get some rest,” Blyke called as he left, and with that he flicked the lights off and closed the door.
John tried closing his eyes and falling asleep, but his mind kept wandering and his thoughts kept going back to Blyke. Perhaps it was the fever or maybe the close proximity to him as he helped John to his bed. He wasn't sure, he just knew he was failing to repress the thoughts.
Romance wasn't really something John thought about anymore. He always somehow came back to the conclusion that he was inherently unlovable. It wasn't something he tried to fight, it was just something he had accepted long ago.
But this had meant he'd never really known how to deal with it when he did gain feelings for someone.
When he realized he had developed something of a crush on Seraphina at the beginning of the year, he ended up avoiding her for a week before she confronted him about it, and he ended up spilling his guts to her. She didn't make a big deal about it, just kindly let him know it wasn't reciprocated but she still wanted to be friends.
And he had gotten over it.
He wasn't even sure how this crush had developed, he and Blyke hadn't even been friends for very long. And before that… John wasn’t proud of the way things used to be between them.
And he was very out of his depth with guys. He'd never really liked a boy like this before, but it also wasn't a totally out of the blue revelation that he'd liked guys. He'd thought about it before when he was younger but that was really it.
He'd never actually had a crush on one.
Until Blyke.
He wanted to just forget about it.
He wanted to sleep off this fever.
And he wanted Blyke to come and keep him company.
Fuck .
—
John found himself in the kitchen of his dorm.
When did he get here?
He was doing dishes, the water was hellfire against his skin, but he didn’t remove his hands. He couldn’t. Blyke had left to go do… something. He couldn't remember, but he should be back soon.
He needed to finish these dishes, they needed them clean. There were more dishes than he remembered owning, maybe they had gotten more at some point. The water was viscous, it moved slowly around his hands. It was dark, too, but there was something inside of it he needed. He felt around, his own movements sluggish. He winced when his hand burst into pain. He sliced his hand with a knife. The water turned red as blood trickled out of his hand. He frowned slightly. There shouldn't be that much blood. The water thinned as he pulled his hands out.
He turned to find a first aid kit.
Ah! There's one on the counter nearby. Why? They didn't own a first aid kit. But they do… and it’s sitting on the counter.
He went over and opened it. There weren't any bandages. Just syringes. A pit started forming in his stomach. They don’t have the greatest history with syringes. He looked down at his hand; It wasn’t bleeding anymore?
A gasp forced its way out of his throat as something jammed into his neck. Sharply, he turned around, ready to fight off the assailant. Nobody was there but he knew it had been an injection of some kind. He knew it was something important, somehow.
But what?
He turned again, much slower, only to find himself in his dad’s living room. That was odd. There was a silhouette sitting in the dark. “...Dad?” The words came from his throat, but they didn’t sound like his voice.
The figure didn't respond.
Something was wrong.
“Hello?” He crept forward and came face to face with his dad. Nausea hit John full force at the same time the familiar, copper scent of blood did.He would've thrown up if he could.
Blood ran down William's face in thick, sickening rivulets, staining the couch he was sitting on. “You weren't there.” William said, staring blankly at nothing.
What?
John tried reaching out for his dad, he needed him, but something yanked him backwards, jostling him around so violently, he screamed. The harsh sound was cut off by a hand against his mouth. He thrashed around, trying to free his wrists and fight.
He realized with dread that he couldn't feel his attacker's aura. His wrists ached as he tried desperately to wrench them out of the attacker’s grasp. He had to get free.
He needed to save his dad. This time, at least.
He slammed his head backward into the attacker's face, a brief moment of relief washed over him when he managed to get his hands back.
He turned to confront the attacker and faced a solid black figure. John striked them, connecting with cold flesh. The attacker staggered back and next thing he knew he was on top of them, punching them in the face repeatedly.
He blinked and he could feel auras again.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
The nauseating noise of flesh against flesh sounded out over and over and over again as he kept hitting. He couldn’t stop himself.
He closed his eyes and hit hard, hearing a Crack! as his fist made contact.
He opened his eyes again, relishing in the fact he was winning. A manic feeling of sick satisfaction coursing through his adrenaline filled veins.
Quickly that satisfaction turned to horror as it was no longer the attacker, but a familiar young girl with green hair.
She was crying, her nose bloody and crooked. Blood streamed down her face, reminiscent of William earlier. He needed to throw up, bitter bile rose in his throat as he looked at her. She stared at him with fear so strong he could feel it.
John stopped as he realized what was happening. “No,” He took a step backwards, unable to tear his eyes away from her trembling frame. “I-” He said, but the words failed, the burning of restrained tears preventing them from leaving his throat.
She crawled away from him.
“Wait!”
She got to her feet and ran.
“I'm sorry!” He screamed after her, his voice breaking into a million pieces. He could hear it reverberating around him long after his vocal chords were torn and useless. His knees gave out, and he just sat in the blood made mud. The sounds of his screaming kept going, on and on and on. It wouldn’t stop. He tried to cover his ears but it didn’t even dull the noise. “Please…” He dared to utter, but he couldn’t even hear the words.
Until all at once it stopped, in its place the sound of knocking. He could feel the noise in his chest. It stopped. It stopped and he didn’t feel any better.
Tears and blood stained his cheeks as he sat there.
He looked around at the bloodied figures laying on the ground around him.
He reached out to touch one and-
Light stung his eyes as he awoke suddenly. He sat upright with a jolt, breathing heavily and unable to stop it. His hands weren’t dirty with blood anymore, and he could have cried in relief. A dull ache built in his chest, he needed to claw out his heart, it needed to stop.
“Woah,” Someone said, startling him out of his thoughts.
John looked up.
Blyke stood awkwardly in the doorway, a bag in one of his hands. “Um,” He glanced just about anywhere but John. “Are- uh- do you need anything?”
John licked his dry lips to find that they tasted of salt. He realized that– much to his embarrassment –his cheeks were wet with tears. “No,” He couldn’t get his voice louder than a whisper. He wiped his cheeks with his hands, acutely aware of Blyke’s presence.
“I- uh- brought you some food.” Blyke held up the bag he was holding, hesitating to go any further. “I figured you'd have slept all day so I just grabbed some grab-and-go.”
John nodded, trying to slow his heart-rate.
Taking that as a welcoming sign, Blyke tentatively approached the foot of the bed, setting the bag down next to John. “Wanted to check on you.” He said, looking away.
“Thanks.” John felt stupid. But what else could he say?
They sat in silence for one painfully awkward moment before Blyke spoke, “Are you… good?”
John stared blankly at him for a second, not knowing how to respond.
Blyke’s face flushed. “It's just- you seemed- uh- troubled.” He looked at his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets.
John struggled to find words for a moment.
“Nightmare.” He finally choked out, pointedly ignoring the way his voice wavered.
Another moment passed.
“Do you wanna talk about it? I'm not good at this whole consoling thing, but I'm good at listening. Isen can’t ever keep his mouth shut.” Blyke chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“I'd rather not.”
It didn’t work.
“Okay,” Blyke glanced at him finally. “I should probably go, then.” He quickly made his way to the door.
In a moment of panic at being left alone, and against John's better judgment, he called out, “Wait!”
Blyke froze at the door.
He immediately regretted everything.
“Yeah?” Blyke asked, turning back around, his face pinched as if perturbed.
John was working on something to say, something to get him out of this predicament, he couldn’t commit to this.
But the words he said were not what he planned on.
“Could you stay?” It was barely above a whisper. And it sounded oh-so pathetic.
…
Blyke’s face contorted for a moment, then smoothed back out. “Okay.” He slowly walked back over to the foot of the bed, sitting down. The creaking of the springs the only sound between the two of them.
John managed to get his panicking heart to calm somewhat. The presence of someone else– someone he trusted –helped. Even if it was awkward.
“How are you feeling?” Blyke asked to cut the silence. “Physically, I mean.”
John took a moment to respond. He actually didn’t feel so terrible anymore. “Better,” He decided. He remembered the bag of food he was given, and he reached to open it. “Thank you for… this.” Heat rose to his cheeks as he said it, embarrassed to have asked for something like this. “School’s already over?” He asked before Blyke could respond to the thanks.
Blyke brought his legs up underneath him and nodded. “Yep. Isen and Remi are putting up the last of the flyers right now.”
John picked at the burger Blyke had given him. His appetite wasn’t there.
“There’s water in there, too. You should stay hydrated.” Blyke gestured to the bag, then looked back up at John.
John couldn’t help but study the details of Blyke; He really was out of it. Blyke’s hair was still messy and his eyes still had deep, dark circles beneath them. John wondered if he had slept at all yet.
“Sorry.” John murmured, glancing at the unwanted burger, then back up at Blyke as he shrugged his uniform jacket off.
“Why?” He asked as he set it on the edge of the bed.
John was quiet, not really sure himself. He shrugged, “Felt like the right thing to say.”
Blyke loosened his tie, John had to force himself to look away. Blyke continued to get comfy, kicking off his shoes and crawling further onto the bed.
Regret wormed its way into John's thoughts. Why would he make Blyke stay? He could be catching up on needed sleep and John's preventing him from doing that. He could have been hanging out with his friends right now if he wanted. Surely he hadn’t wanted to spend this time with John.
Blyke got his phone out, scrolled for a second, and then typed something out before setting it next to him.
“What was that?” John asked before he could think better of it, continuing to pick apart the burger. It wasn’t even in burger form anymore.
“Sent a text to Remi.” He crawled over to the space next to John, laying down on one of the pillows with his hands behind his head. “I let her know I wouldn't be able to help her and Isen distribute the last of the packets.”
John frowned, and after a beat, “You could've said no.”
Blyke shrugged.
A moment passed. Then another.
And right as John opened his mouth to say something-
“I'd rather be here.” Blyke went red and added. “With you.”
John felt nauseous, like someone punched him in the gut.
But in a good way. If that was possible.
He couldn't help but smile, directly opposing the lingering sickness from the nightmare.
Blyke scowled. “Tell anyone I said that and I'm going to fight you.” He grumbled and averted his gaze.
John laughed lightly, gathering up the torn apart burger and setting it on the nightstand. Blyke looked… soft, here in his bed, even with the scowl on his face. “Do you want some blanket?” John asked, offering part of the bunched up comforter he had been sleeping with. Blyke took it wordlessly, and laid on his side facing John. John mirrored him, settling back down into the bedding. The first few buttons of Blyke’s shirt were unbuttoned. John hadn’t even realized he’d done that. He couldn’t stop his wandering gaze. Impulse control was not his best when he was exhausted like this. Nightmares didn't provide much energy, apparently.
“I’m so tired.” Blyke mumbled, eyes fluttering shut. “I think I'm going to steal your bed when I have enough energy. It’s comfier than mine.”
…
“Blyke?”
“Yeah?” He hadn't opened his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
John felt the comforting clutches of sleep start to drag him under. And he briefly registered the feeling of someone interlacing their hand with his as he finally fell to sleep.
—
Remi frowned at the door to Blyke and John’s dorm. Two hours ago Blyke had sent her a text about how he wouldn't be able to help put up the rest of the flyers. He hadn't responded to any of the three texts she had sent back. Anxiety was hard to fight off when people were out to kill you, as it turns out.
She tried the handle, and to her utter surprise, the door opened. She made a mental note to give them a lecture on the importance of locking their door, especially now.
The small kitchen-living room area was empty. She crept further in, quietly shutting the door behind her. She made her way to Blyke’s room, knocking on the door. She hoped she hadn't disturbed John, he was really feeling bad earlier.
No answer, she opened the door. Also empty.
That was mildly worrying.
She glanced at John's door. It was slightly ajar. Blyke had mentioned getting food for John before he'd left. Maybe he told John something. She felt bad at the thought of disturbing John while he slept, but with the threat of the authorities and Ember it was important to know where everyone was.
She pushed open the door and peered inside.
Remi really hadn't expected to walk in on John and Blyke sleeping in the same bed. And not even that, they were intertwined with each other. It took her a moment to gather herself. When did this happen?
She found herself looking back at all the interactions she had seen between the boys, wondering if she just hadn’t noticed something. Recovering from the initial shock, she noticed the soft smile on John's face. He was at peace.
She smiled, too, briefly remembering the first time she felt okay after Rei's death.
She flicked the light off and closed the door.
She was happy for them.