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    Summary

    Jeremy blinks, maybe back into consciousness, maybe just back into awareness, to light pouring into the window and a familiar silhouette standing over him.

    “What are you on?” The Marseille accent snaps, and Jeremy groans at the words.

    No. No, no, no. It’s not fair how his mind does this to him. It’s not fair how even in his drugged-out, numbing haze, his mind still conjures images of the best thing he ever lost. Why? Why does it torture him like this?

    Wake up. He needs to wake up.

    “Jeremy, what are you on?”

    “Stop,” Jeremy moans. “Please, stop.”

    He brings his right hand up to his left wrist, pinching so hard that he shivers and his eyes water. He digs his nails in, hoping to draw blood if that’s what it takes to get himself to wake up. He can’t do it again. He can’t have Jean in his hazy dreams and wake back up to being alone.

    “Do not,” dream Jean hisses, and he bends down to grab Jeremy’s wrist, yanking it away. 

    His touch feels so real, so warm, almost like…

    “Jean?” Jeremy’s voice is raw and rough. His throat is so dry.

     

    TW: drug use, relapse, suicidal thoughts, self-harm/cutting, depression

    Series
    Language:
    English
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