Thoughts of a Doomed Timeline

EB: ok, i'm going to go over this river and through these woods.
EB: you talk to your troll i guess.
EB: we'll compare notes later.
TT: Ok.
TT: Bye, John.

GG: ok im ready when you are!!
GG: hellooo!! joooohn! are you there???
GG: ummmmm…
GG: john?

TG: hey earth to egbert
TG: guess whats still a thing that is happening
TG: god damn meteor headed straight for jade
TG: think you can take a few motherfuckin minutes to connect with her
TG: bro why arent you answering

GG: whatever youre doing, can it wait? meteors coming really soon… :/
GG: hello?

TT: John?
TT: John, where are you?

TG: new plan
TG: ill try to connect with jade assuming shes still there to connect with
TG: you go find egbert and ask him what the hell is wrong with him
TT: Did he indicate where he was last located?
TG: he said he was going to his seventh gate
TG: so wherever that went

TT: I found him.
TG: where the fuck was he
TT: He's…

The worst part is that he isn't completely dead when you find him. You're not sure why that makes it worse, but seeing his chest heaving up and down like that stops you cold. He's all smoke and cinders around the edges. A salamander is sitting next to him, looking as stunned as you feel. John's knees are curled up to his chest, and he keeps whispering something.

"John?" Your vision starts to blur before you blink, and you grasp your wands. Someone has to stay calm here, and you've always been exceptionally good at doing so. Breathe, Lalonde. Breathe.

He doesn't move, but he stops whispering. "Rose…" His voice is thin and strangled. He sounds as though he just came out of a fire. And that might be an accurate comparison for what happened, all things considered.

You run towards the boy and fall to your knees beside him. Way to keep your calm. "What happened to you? What could have possibly compelled you to pull this kind of stunt?" You expect him to give you answers. You expect him to at least say he's sorry for not being there for Jade, for the hell he put you and Dave through.

But he just shakes his head and wraps his hand over yours. "It's OK, Rose. Everything's OK." He keeps saying that, and he sounds like he means it. He intends to pacify, but the more he says that everything is going to be just fine, the more you feel like telling him to shut up because it clearly isn't.

Breathe, Lalonde. Breathe.

There's something broken in his smile that makes it harder to keep up this brave façade. You have to do something about this. You pull back, stand up, and point your wands at him. You're not sure how exactly these things work yet, since you only alchemized them shortly before searching for John. But you can guess.

You mutter something dark and powerful and the wands crackle and pop. The energy snaps out of them, hitting John square in the chest. He coughs violently, but doesn't do much else. You thought that would help.

"I apologize. I wasn't making an attempt to exacerbate your condition." All those extra syllables are easy to hide behind. He tries to shoot down your wall with those terribly blue eyes. Your grip on the wands slackens. Everything's going fuzzy again. Try a little harder?

He stretches out his hand. You sit down again and pull him into your arms. If you weren't aware of how labored his breathing was before, you certainly are now. You're not sure what to say (except for all those compromising thoughts like please don't do this and I can't lose you, too), so you're glad when John speaks up, even if it does break your heart.

"I'm glad you're with me…"

"Here at the end of all things?" It's a joke, but dear God it doesn't feel like one. He smiles at it, though. He has the sweetest smile.

"I always liked you, Rose." Right away, you know he has to stop talking like that. Past tense is never a good sign with these sorts of things. "I'm really sorry…"

You shake your head and you're not sure why holding him closer seems like it'll help because what kind of logic is that? "So am I." It's a bit of a wonder how he looks so small, but weighs you down like he was made of lead. You debate whether or not you can carry him back above the surface by yourself. You doubt it.

He can barely keep his eyes open now, and you can feel his heartbeat slowing. You're sick of your passivity. There has to be something you can do. It would be much easier to think of something that would work if the air weren't so heavy.

John shifts towards you. "Rose? Can I… just…" He struggles to push himself upwards; you're at a loss as to what he's doing. He presses his chapped lips against your cheek, and it would probably feel more like a kiss under different circumstances.

That's it, heavy or no, you're getting him out of here. "Let's get back to the surface, shall we?" You pull him upwards and hold him around his waist. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. The close contact chills you to your bones.

"It hurts to move…" He closes his eyes and bites down on his lip. There's a bit of moisture at the corners of his eyes.

You hold still for a moment and try to think of a way to get him up all those stairs without hurting him. If he were a bit lighter, you could have carried him. Maybe.

(Mostly you just don't want to admit that you can't think of anything.)

You let go, and you both curl up on the ground. You can't think of anything else to say, so instead you hold his hand and hope that says everything. Your smiles aren't as brave as they were before.

Everything's moving slower by the second. You're a bit scared of what happens when it comes to a stop.

"It's going to be OK," he says. Maybe in a different time, you'd believe him.