Gabe couldn't help the smile that splits his face at Tessa's whisper, a volume he had rarely heard from the short woman. It made him laugh lightly, tongue caught between his teeth at his silly best friend, his sister. With her terrible taste in men and her heavy machinery weapons. Getting excited over the prospect of them stealing a food truck, something he hadn't intended as a good idea. But, even he had to admit, a hot meal sounded amazing. The idea bubbled and boiled in his head, like maybe he could think of more useful reasons for a food truck, like keeping an easier list of food and always know who is taking food, and taking it too much, if there was such a thing.
Sweat dripped down his neck and his brain felt heavy, like the weight of the food truck sat atop it, but the pressure is slightly overwhelming. It couldn't be the food truck. That was a good idea, and this sticky heat and nausea felt terrible. Maybe it was guilt, that he should've tried and been nicer to Thomas, given the man his blessing without question, though he still didn't like the man or trust him with Tessa's heart. With a sigh, he opened up his mouth, to give a blessing he had owed Thomas, "Hey, Tess-"
Something popped in the back of his head, an idea bursting to life and it stopped the delicate way he wished to give Tessa his blessing without spoiling any surprises for her of what her future would hold. But a new thought invaded his brain. No, not a thought. A memory. It was there, sitting at the very center of his mind. "September 29, 1979. That's my birthday." A small smile appeared on his face, almost shy as if a typical Gabe grin would scare the recollection away. "I remembered."
The shot through the air was unmistakable and Jiminy sprang to life at the noise, filling Gabe's short frame as he stretched to life. The box plummeted to the ground, the metallic sound of cans smashing and rolling away from their crash site. Gabe had dropped them somehow, his hands refusing to budge from the clenched position they had found themselves in. His body fell, back colliding with the ground as a warm wetness drenched his neck, like he had broken out into such a sweat due to the intense heat and fog. But the liquid was red, hot and so entirely his. Breathing became difficult, then impossible as the warm life source clogged and stifled him. His hands came up, shaking to cover the wound but it doesn't help. Blood spat from between his teeth and his eyes grew wide and horrified.
Jiminy was there, trying to make his hands work and the spirit grew frustrated with its beloved host, who wouldn't listen to his silent pleas to move and heal himself, to turn over and empty out the blood spurting from between his fingers, an artery hit. But Jiminy did the next best thing. His friend was tired of fighting. Gabe had helped these people, not just with medical attention. Jiminy could've chosen anyone to do that. But he had chosen Gabe, because Gabe was the kindest soul he had ever examined. A few cuts and bruises, a few gashes healed, but when Jiminy thought about the smiles, the way people's faces lit up when they spoke to his dying friend, he could never bring such happiness.
So Jiminy did his best to wrap himself around Gabe, to keep him warm while the next few moments passed. He eased the pain, almost humming sweet songs into the man's ear to lull him to sleep, where he wouldn't have to worry every day for the people he made laugh. And Gabe smiled too, a small smile up at the heavens that seemed to shine in his big, blue eyes. He wasn't alone. Jiminy would never let Gabe be alone. Not even in death.
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