"I will not die."
[PAST]
He sees it coming, theres no time for his life to flash before his eyes, as short as it is, its fragments, he fails to recognise what is real and what was a dream, but theres nothing significant that he holds onto from his fifteen years of life to remember them. He hasn’t perfected his fight or flight instincts yet, his only reaction to the teeth that clench in his direction, the rotting hands that reach out to grab his boney prepubescent body, is to squeeze his eyes shut tightly and wait for it to happen.
But he feels no pain. Theres a gargling noise, and something wet strikes his cheek hard enough for his eyes to open. Jaebum is so much older, so much taller, that Jackson fails to see what is going on around broad shoulders. He shuffles backwards, twisting the bat he gave him weeks ago awkwardly in his hand, wincing every time he took out one of the infected. It’s always been this way, if he closes his eyes and thinks about Jaebum he’s always there, he always saves him.
“Hyung?” He questions somewhat reproachfully, the stance the older boy adopts is still very much in fight mode, hunched over one of the bodies on the ground. He waits for him to soften, to step back before he launches himself at him, securing his legs around his waist, high pitched laugh vibrating against his ear, fist bumping the air with too much energy for the circumstances. “That was cool but you have to stop doing that.” He tries to mimic the tone of the other males voice but his still cracks and shakes in places. “One day you won’t be able to save me and I need to learn how to-” His laughter is cut short when he notices the way the older boy staggers beneath his weight, when he usually carries him so easily. He spoke too soon.
“Jaebum?” He slides down his back. Pinches above his elbow to get him to stop walking, turns his wrist around until the blood on the underside stops rolling down to fill the gaps between his fingers. “You’re... they-” His eyes are wet when they look up at him, sharply when he recoils his arm away to hide the bite mark from him. “No no no- I need you”
“I will not die.” Jaebum assures him, in a tone that Jackson is starting to out grow, doesn’t want to hear when he knows far too well what the truth is.
He wakes up in the middle of the night to Jaebum rolling over, the rustling of the shared sheet of plastic beneath his head stirs him, enough for him to squint through the darkness to watch him try to use his shirt to soak up the blood thats seeping through his bandage.
Jackson has slept with his knife for as long as he remembers, keeps it folded up in his pocket for safe keeping. He squeezes it in his fist as he sits up. “Its okay.” He whispers, pushing the older boys hair away from his face. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, his fingers are dirty and shaking, he only has a few months of comfort from Jaebum to go by, and he doesn’t know if he’s doing it right.
“Jackson I’m sorry.” He closes the distance between them, words stick with you forever, and Jackson doesn’t want to remember this, to hear this, not ever. He sinks himself into a hug, wrapping one arm around him, salt stinging the cut on his cheek where he’d tripped over just a couple of days before. “I’m sorry too hyung.” He cries.
By the time he pulls away Jaebums shirt has darkened, the blood around the knife sticking out of his chest, sticking to Jacksons fingers.
Jaebum is dead. Jackson spends the next hour feeling the warmth exit his body, feeling his fingers stiffen between his until he can no longer hold them. The hour after that he spends shaking, knife hesitating where he has it poised, the tip of it pressing against his friends forehead with both hands - but he can’t do it.
“I will not die.”
“You were right hyung.” He laughs, high pitched and bitter as he brushes his fingers over high cheek bones to close his eyes. “You won’t die.”
He runs.