A/N- I really need to updates my other stories. But when inspiration hits, I do what it says. This story should be pretty short. It's already mostly written out. It's experimental. Deal with it. It also has some slashiness.


Don't let Go

Almost Death

These things happen to other people, not to me. It's just like people say. But this is me, these things don't happen to me. They can't, they just...

-Hey dude, you ok?

Ok? Is dying ok? I don't know. I feel the blood seeping out of me, spilling through my fingers. It doesn't hurt, not anymore. Nothing hurts, and maybe it's better that way.

-I'll be fine.

Is that my voice. I sound so young. Too young to die. Tears swell in my eyes, spilling down my numb face. I'm scared. This can't be happening, it's not real. Except it is. I don't want to die. Do I?

-Oh my god, you're bleeding everywhere. I'm calling an ambulance ok? Just don't die yet.

Yet? Is later ok? Who are you?

Everything begins to fade slowly, and I forget to be scared, forget to think. This is it.

-You're not dead. No. Hey, wake up. This can't be happening. Please live.

A warm hand holding mine. Sirens. Pushing and moving and voices. I'm slipping blissfully, but that hand grips me firmly, keeping me here, never letting go. Never let go.

It hurts. It hurts to move, to breathe, to think. I open my eyes and look around. A hospital. I've never been in a hospital. Why am I here?

Oh, yes.

-You're awake.

Who is this man? Why is he holding my hand?

-The doctors. They said you'll be ok.

I can't open my mouth. Can't form words. Will I be ok? How can they know? Really, have I ever been ok?

-So.

His woried face. His warm hand. It is the man who begged me to live. Why?

-My name's Damien.

Damien. What a strange time for introductions. He smiles hesitantly. His hand still holds mine. I don't let go. I can't.

-Jeff.

My voice is small. Weak. Damien grins akwardly.

-Nice to meet ya.

Is it?

-huhm.

I'm tired again. The pain makes me wary of conciousness. My eyes begin to close. My body relaxes, beyond the reach of pain.

The wamth leaves my hand slowly. Fingers untaggle from my own. I clutch them desperately.

-Don't. Don't let go.

If he lets go, I'll float away. I'll die, he is my anchor.

-All right. I'm right here. I won't let go.


Please review. It makes me smile.