Skips A Beat ::Wattys2016::

Chapter 21

A/N: the song Luke is singing is Little Wonders by Rob Thomas. The one he remembers is Cupid's Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes (feat. Patrick Stump *heart eye emoji*)

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Michael stays curled sweetly against my chest. Once again, he's wearing one of my shirts. He has my flannel shirt clenched in his fist, unknowingly pulling it closer to him. I run my hand through his hair, messing around on my phone. I have headphones in, and like any sane person, I have 2000s Pop Radio on Pandora playing. I have this really lame game on my phone, and by really lame game, I mean my favourite. Club Penguin.

Banned:

The server has automatically banned you for saying a bad word. You Said: "WHY THE FUCK CANT I GET MY DAMN RAINBOW PUFFLE"

Well...so much for Club Penguin. I darken my screen, closing my eyes and let the sounds of an out of date Maroon 5 song fill my ears. So this is my life. As the song comes closer to the end, I realize that my shirt feels kinda...wet. What? I look down at Michael who is still asleep. I groan at the blood coming from his mouth. How did he sleep through that? I sit up, carefully keeping him against my chest to prevent getting any blood on the bed.

"Michael, sweetie. Can you get up and help me?" I say. He moans, spewing more blood. He keeps his eyes shut tight, trying to force himself up. He looks pained. "No, never mind. It's okay." I grab tissues from the bedside table, wiping his mouth clean. After he's all cleaned up, I change shirts. I need to wash that later or it'll stain.

"M, so-ee." he mumbles an apology. I kiss his cheek.

"It's okay, honey." I say softly. He quickly falls back asleep as I play with his fingers. I hear the door creak open, and look up. It's Joy.

"Hi, boys." She smiles at us, well me. She walks over to Michael, checking all of his rates and stuff. "How's he been feeling?" She asks, rolling the IV stand over. I eye it cautiously.

"He's been really tired, and he just spit up some blood." I say. She nods, checking something on her notebook pad.

"Well, we're going to be hooking him up to some machines. They're just precautionary, and to keep track of all of his vitals. The IV has some pain medication for him. It's like before, not nearly as bad as it looks. The technician will be in shortly, and if you could try to wake Michael up long enough for this. That would be great. I'll be back after my runs." I don't respond to her dismissal, my eyes are glued to the IV stand. I keep rubbing Michael's hand, honestly scared of him being hooked up to any machines.

I keep telling myself that it's just to help take care of him better. It's not life support, it's just reading vitals. It'll be okay. The technician doesn't talk much as he hooks Michael to all of...the everything. He asks me random questions, making small talk. I'm not in the mood for it.

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Michael's awake. I guess. I mean his eyes are open... but. He's been staring at the ceiling for a while. I follow his eyes to the ceiling, but it's just a ceiling. Nothing at all exciting there. I sigh.

Somehow, when I pictured the end. I didn't picture it like this. I was thinking that it would be him, all happy like he is, and him singing and dancing, and then just not being there one day. I didn't think of him getting weaker, and him forgetting things. I didn't picture him sleeping for hours and hours because he's just so drained. I didn't think about the term dying and everything that it meant. I was thinking of the word death. Two different things. Dying is the preparation for death.

I go over to Michael's guitar. He taught me to play a while back. It was only one song, but I remember it. I bite my lip, nervous. I know it's just us here, and even if it's awful, he'll still love it, but it's scary. He always wanted me to sing to him, so here goes...