Work Text:
Death.
Lucas never liked the idea of death.
But right now, that's what's going on.
He is dead, and he knows this.
He does not know where he is, all he knows is that its dark, but not dark enough to not be able to see a thing. He can see his hands, his feet, his knees.
He does not know if this is heaven, he does not know if this is hell.
He does not know whats going on.
—————
John's computer had shut down automatically.
John sat there, trying to process what he had seen, but his brain was too foggy. He went to go reach for the power button, but his arms felt too heavy. And his fingers were completely numb, well, many parts of him were. His shoulders, his face, his legs.
John begrudgingly pulled himself up off his chair, and tried his best to make his way over towards his bed, and somehow, me managed.
He tried his best to pull the blankets up over himself before his head collapsed onto the pillows, he wrapped his arms around himself, and pulled his legs closer to his torso.
He was already thinking about what would happen in the morning, it was winter break, he had plenty of time to keep on trying to find Lucas. He knew he could, he definitely would.
"I'll find him." John thought.
"I'll find Lucas."
And a bit later, he fell asleep, already knowing the plan for when he'd wake up.
Yes, he'd find him.
Not in the way he really wanted to, though.
—————
Lucas sat against the wall, thinking of what he could do here, there wasn't much, though. This place seemed to expand outwards for dozens of feet in every direction.
There was nothing except walks and the floor here, no one to talk to except himself, nothing to do except think, and think he did.
For awhile, at least.
...
*Thud*
Lucas's head snapped upwards, his eyes landing on the middle of the room.
A boy, no older than seventeen, laid curled up in the center.
Lucas hesitated a little, before he got up and made his way over to him. As he reached him, he crouched down to closer examine them.
Short brown hair, deep eyebags, simple black pajamas, and a mole near his neck.
He looked like he'd been through hell, those eyebags were telling him that he hadn't slept in days. He didn't look familiar to Lucas, maybe he was some kid from school? He wasn't sure at all.
—————
John doesn't want to open his eyes right now.
It feels like he's laying on the floor instead of on his bed, he wants to fall back asleep, maybe when he wakes up, he'll feel like he's in bed again.
But he can't fall asleep, which is strange, because he usually falls asleep quickly.
He brings his hands up to cover his face, letting out a tired groan.
Any bit of tiredness that John has left immediately vanishes as an unfamiliar voice suddenly yells out.
"OH– Good grief!"
John's eyes snap open, immediately lifting himself to sit up, and he's met with someone unfamiliar.
His vision is blurry, he can barely make out the figure in front of him, but before he can stop himself, he says it.
"Lucas?"
The figure seems startled at that, and John rubs his eyes, trying to get a better look at him.
—————
"John?"
Lucas isn't able to stop himself from asking, there's no way it could be John. He doubts it.
But the boy seems suprised at the sound of that, and then, his hands begin to tremble slightly.
"Lucas?" He says it again, his voice cracking.
"Oh my god," Lucas thinks, "It's actually him."
And at that, he can't help but smile a bit.
"John." He replies.
John's hand covers his mouth, he can finally see him clearly, it's him.
"Oh my god." John says, beginning to cry.
Lucas reaches out, and John reciprocates, throwing himself into his arms.
"I did it," John says.
"I found you."