Chapter 83 Jacob Breathe
eighty-three
Jacob: Breathe
The darkness is full of noise, cries of anger, pain, and fear. Explosions, smoke and mud. The acrid smell of gunshot mixes with blood.
I fight and fade. The images become clear, then fade away. I can’t open my eyes.
The noise changes.
The whoosh of machines. Pain. Fog I can’t escape. Something solid and smooth and warm. A hand in mine.
Voices.
“The surgeon did everything she could, but there’s still a lot of damage. The prognosis isn’t–”
“Don’t.” Her voice.
Steve's voice. “We need to consider what will happen if he can't breathe on his own. He wouldn't want to live this way. You need to prepare yourself. I’m not trying to be cruel, but we can’t live on false hopes.”
“Hope.” She laughs, but it's the kind of laugh that hurts. “If false hope is all I have, I’ll take it.”
“You’ve always been incredibly stubborn. Especially when it comes to him. We're grateful for that.” Mom's voice breaks.
The hand releases mine. My fingers won’t move. I don’t have the strength to hold on.
It all comes back. Pictures of her. Calling with no answer. The flight to Seattle. Driving. Finally, finding her. The kiss. His taunting face. The shot. Her scream. Another shot.
Silence.
Her arms, holding me together, while she fell apart. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
I still can’t open my eyes, but know he's standing next to me–his crooked grin and dancing eyes. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ve got you.”
He fades away.
We’re alone now. I have no perception of time. It could have been minutes, or weeks, or years. Her footsteps pace the room. The machine noise and her hand have become the only constants in an existence filled with confusion and pain—for both of us. It might be better if I let go.
“Whatever happens,” her voice is close, whispers of breath on my face, “I’m here as long as you want me.”
Me too.
I want to lift my head, meet her lips, tell her I'll never leave her again. I can’t make my body move. She stands and paces again. I breathe, a little blip on the machine.
She comes back, “Jacob?”
There’s something in my mouth that keeps me from talking. I try to move my lips, to say her name. Another breath, another blip. She leans closer, grips my hand. One finger moves, then another. I squeeze with everything I have left, knowing it’s not enough.
She leans over, her lips on my forehead. “I love you. Forever.”
This time when the darkness overtakes me, it’s warm and welcoming, because I know what waits on the other side.