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Viewing Single Post From: Peripeteia
Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
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It was almost a miracle, someone actually showed up. Out of the blue, Peter Siu was there, and he got to work.

Brendan tried to speak, tried to thank him for what he was doing, but...he couldn't even get a word out, his breathe pungently forcing itself out, without a word to follow it. He wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve, then tried again, only to let out a sick cough.

But he couldn't get it out any more than he could start singing showtunes, and he kept on working. Brendan kept close by, and tried to avoid eye contact with the boy who had to be trying to figure out what happened. It wasn't only that, it was worth all the effort in the world trying to stay there and not run away. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that.

And even through all of this, he was still trying to tell himself that he wasn't to blame. Once Steven got fixed up...

...why did Steven just grab his hand?

For all it was worth, Brendan agreed with Steven, then and there, before the reality of what was really happening started to sink in.

Steven wasn't getting out of this. His voice got weaker and weaker before he mumbled one final word, and then...

...come on, Steven, wake up.

...wake up.

...

...wake up, Steven.

...you can't sleep now, you're wounded, and you should know what happens to wounded people who fall asleep in movies and-


There was a painful movement in his stomach, almost like he'd punched himself there without realising it, and Brendan couldn't look away. Steven's closed eyes weren't staring back at him anymore, because...they weren't moving anymore.

Steven wasn't moving anymore. His chest wasn't pulsing, his mouth wasn't opening for breath, he was just...he was dead.

It only took a few precious moments for him to realise this, or at least for his body to factor it in. It involved a wave of cold sweeping throughout his nerves, freezing him to the spot like an ice sculpture, where he couldn't stop looking at his...his work. He'd felt like this only a few precious times in his life. When he was almost 13, and he realised he could be gay - when he was 16, and he was told his grandmother was dead, only a few weeks later when his grandfather followed her - when, that one time, after a movie marathon that involved Lexie accidentally supplying them with pot brownies without them knowing and he feared he may have slept with Chase while they were high...

But this...

...there were no true existing words to describe the array of emotions, reactions, and most of all actions that overtook his body. In there somewhere was the freight train which held every trace amount of guilt he'd ever felt in his life, and it was charging him, leading his emotional state through sheer ferocity and force. The only real words to sum up the situation were already bygone assumptions. Steven was dead. Brendan was responsible.

A few seconds of silence followed, and Brendan felt Steven's hand fall from his grasp, and onto the cave floor. He still couldn't speak. No sound came out of his gaping mouth, only a heavy distressed array of breaths. The punch in his stomach started to sting, almost like he'd lost something and his body didn't know what it was attacking.

There were no words for him to say, nothing was coming out.

A female voice scratched at the back of his head, but Brendan couldn't make anything legible out. The entire world was bluring into an abstract before his eyes, only Steven before him being of any humane description into his mind. Brendan's hands shook. His whole body shook violently like he was an earthquake, epi-centred.

Brendan didn't realise he'd done it, but slowly but surely, he was crawling backwards on his hands, just trying to get away. He didn't make it far, within a few seconds, he'd reached the cave wall behind him and thumped dully against the rock. He sat there, unmoving. Hands clenched in the dirt ground beneath him. His front covered in human remains and dead decomposers. Eyes glazed over, rarely blinking. Not teared. Just unmoving.

And every single sound in the world became a dull mute as Brendan's mind started to shut down.

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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Peripeteia · The Tunnels