Everything is too hot.No, maybe it’s all too cold? My body shakes, wracking itself with shivers so strong I’m powerless to stop. My head is a foggy mess and I can’t keep my eyes open.
One moment, I’m sweltering. The next moment, I feel like I might die from the cold.
Wade is here. Somewhere. I know he is, yet I can’t seem to place him. His voice washes over me, the cadence familiar and safe. I can’t make out the words.
Just knowing he’s here, brings me peace through the fog I’m slowly losing myself to.
I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I open my mouth but my body rebels. Everything hurts. My entire body, sluggish and aching.
The worst is my throat. It feels like there’s razor blades caught in the back of my throat and no matter how many times I swallow or how often I cough, nothing will dislodge them.
I stop knowing if I’m awake, stop knowing if I’m even alive anymore. I dream of my brother’s last moments, replaying itover and over and over like a never ending nightmare. I see him die again and again.
Everything is too much. The pain, the dreams, the hot, the cold. I think I might be dying. The only thing giving me any semblance of a tether is Wade’s voice. I think he might be begging. He’s such a strong man, he shouldn’t beg for anything.
“I hate you,” I think I hear through the fog but I don’t know for sure. Maybe it’s just another nightmare, plaguing me now that I’ve found my end.
My throat feels like it’s closing up, making it hard to breathe. I keep drifting into sleep only to be slammed awake by my body jerking, shaking, wheezing.
I can feel someone lifting me up and carrying me but I’m powerless to open my eyes and see what’s going on. Voices sound around me and they’re unfamiliar. What the hell is happening? What’s going on?
Everything goes black for a long time. My body continues to fight. I wish my mind could fight too. I need Wade. I hope he’s okay. I hope I’m okay.
Eventually, I find the strength to open my eyes. It’s only for a moment but it’s enough to find Wade. Knowing he’s okay, I finally fall into a real sleep, one that’s not plagued by nightmares or spurred on because my body can’t do anything else. I sleep because I need the rest and instead of nightmares, everything is blissfully dark. I get dreamless sleep for the first time since I can remember.
When I wake up again, I feel a hand in my left. Before opening my eyes, I take stock of myself. My body feels weak and sore all over. Sweat drips down the side of my neck, telling mefinallythis fever has broken. My mouth is parched but when I swallow, it doesn’t hurt quite as much as before. I’m still not okay, but I know I’m on the mend.
Relief so strong it threatens to bring tears to my eyes hits me square in the chest. I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.
Holy shit.
I finally open my eyes, turning my head to look at Wade. He’s breathing softly, his head pillowed on his free arm, sleeping. He’s slumped over and that must not be comfortable. I wonder how long he’s been here, by my side.
Looking around, I realize I have no idea where we are. Whose house is this? How the fuck did we get here? Did Wade carry me all the way to this new place? Did he care for me along the way?
This must have been so hard for him. More tears prickle my eyes. He did all of this for me. Hesavedme.
How the fuck do you repay something like this?
This must have been how Wade felt when I saved him from that camp. We’ve saved each other. Our slates have been cleaned, not that either of us would ever hold that sort of thing over the other’s head.
Tears fall down the side of my head, catching in my ears. I can’t hold them back, even if I wanted to. I’m overwhelmed with everything I’m feeling. Gratitude. Wonder. Adoration. Most strongly though,love.
What a fucking idiot I am, to fall in love during the end of the world. Everything is so fickle and nothing is sacred. We could both be gone tomorrow, but is that really enough to hold myself back? Is that really all it takes to give up on feelings that have only grown stronger since meeting Wade? Should I toss them away before they even have a chance to fully bloom?
“Hey,” I whisper, my voice coming out hoarse and cracked. I bring my free hand over, placing it on Wade’s head, feeling the short hair under my palm. My arms shake but not from fever, instead from anticipation. “Wade?”
There’s nothing for a long moment. I start to run my fingers over Wade’s head, feeling the soft buzzcut under my fingers. Ifeel his body tense and then a moment later, Wade raises his head.
My hand falls back into my own lap as our eyes meet. His are wide, filled with fear. They run over my face, taking me in, no doubt worried this isn’t real.
“Hey,” I say again and finally, something in Wade seems to snap.
“Briggs,” Wade says with a gasp before he’s letting go of my hand. Before I can properly mourn the loss of his touch, I let out a gasp of my own as Wade practically tackles me. He’s still careful because he knows I’m weak but he lays himself on top of me, shoving his arms under my body and holding me tight. “Briggs,” he says again, this time soft and against the side of my head.
I bring my arms around him, holding him just as tightly as he’s holding me.
“I’m okay,” I do my best to say, my voice cracking as I speak. It’ll take some more time for my voice to come back, but that’s okay becausewe have time. Somehow, Wade has given us time. “I’m okay, Wade.”
