The Last will never die

The stubborn never dies with only one punch.

"James?" a voice whisper, yanking his mind from the serene dream world.

This kid is too close; James panic, jamming his eyes tighter and biting his tongue as he refuses to scream. Faint, raspy breathing grew closer and thicker with every second that pass. Resting peacefully near his ear, it sprays millions of tiny specks of warm water droplets against his cheek. James whimpers in disgust as he feels the liquid dripping down into his ear.

"Gross," he whimpers, trying to shake the saliva off his cheek. He sighs with his poorly attempts failing miserably as his body wouldn't budge. "Body move," he hisses in aggravation. "Don't you get it? We need to go," he softly begs, trying to force his exhausting muscles to get away from this unknown boy. His muscles still refuse to budge. Not good, he groans, sluggishly opening his eyes. I need to stay alert on the whereabouts of this kid. He hopes if he has something to focus on, it will maybe help preoccupy his mind from the pain. Listening carefully, he notices it was too quiet, he wonders, Did he leave? He pushes his throbbing head to the side and finding a pair of knees trembling with tiny droplets scatters along the khaki fabric. He struggles to move his neck muscles up, in an attempt to see the kid's face through his foggy vision. He blinks vigorously, forcing the tears away. He notices warm fingers drench in sweat, hovering inches away from his face. Shutting his eyes, James braces himself as small fingertips delicately brush aside his matted bangs, exposing his bruised forehead. He feels the once agonizing pain gently melt away with every stroke. While listening carefully to the soothing sounds of soft shuffling against the pavement, he slowly drifts in and out of consciousness.

"James, please don't sleep," the voice begs.

"Why not?" James yawn.

He forces his heavy eyelids apart, but notice it is getting harder to stay awake with each attempt. The darkness is drawing him in with every yawn that escapes from his throat. He knows very well he isn't going to be able to put up a fight much longer. His eyesight began to blur. Little black dots start to cloud the remaining of his vision. Shifting his head up toward the sky, he catches a glimpse that made his stomach turn�"the blond-headed boy quivering on his knees. His hand shaking uncontrollably with beads of sweat trickling down his fingertips. Each drop of sweat, careless dripping along James's brow, seeping through the deep crevasses of his wounded flesh. He notices that kid’s pale flesh is glimmering with a sickening shade of white. His blue eyes grew dimmer at all the blood oozing from James's forehead. Shifting his gaze back to the trembling hand, he wishes his fingers were still brushing aside his bangs. Which surprisingly made all the pain vanish with a single touch. He jumps slightly as a moist hand snuck underneath his head, tangling its long, thin fingers through his blood-soaked hair, delicately avoiding the tiny scrapes scatter across the back of his head. He feels a blush starting to form as he keeps on staring at the kid's hand. Reaching up, James tries desperately to touch the kid's hand. He just wants the pain to disappear with his magical touch. Leaning up too far, he brushes the tip of his nose with the edge of the kid's cheek. He feels his breath crawling along the side of his face. It floods through his nose, engulfing his senses with the distinct aroma of onion and pickles. James hisses in pain as his head moved closer to the sky as he digs his fingers into the concrete, not wanting to die.

"I am dying," whimpers James. "I don't want to die. Heaven, don't take me."

"James, you are not dying," reassure the boy.

"But heaven's pulling me up with its bony, little dead arms," James whines with hints of fear in his broken voice. The boy remains quiet tick off by James's comment on how his arms are bony and dead-like.

"Wait! You know my name?" James asks quietly.

"Do... you... not... remember?" Sam gasps, staring at the kid with disbelief. "It's me. Sam."

"Sam...  Sammy...  Sam. Yes, I know you, Sam. Did you think I would ever forget my best friend? What kind of friend would I be if I forgot?" James chuckles with a hint of guilt in his voice, for almost forgetting his Sam.

"A big goof," Sam mumbles under his breath, content that James is still the same old James. "Jamey, can you open your eyes, so I know you are not sleeping?" he faintly sobs, not bothering to wipe away his falling tears.

Sam watches each droplet of his sadness dripping from the tip of his nose and splashing on the thin layer of skin protecting James's eyes. Lining the cracks where the eyelids end, overflowing down his raw cheeks. James flutters his sleepy eyes awake, noticing those light sapphire, crystal blue eyes overflowing with worry. His light blond hair dancing playfully in the wind, covering up one eye. James whimper with disappointment, with the wind deciding to deny the world of his beauty. Sam musters up the remaining of his strength; he has left in a desperate attempt to incline James's head further up. He grunts, as he almost lost his grip once or twice, causing James to wonder if he is going to die or not. But with one glance in Sam's eyes, James can feel all his fear melt away. He wishes he can do the same for his savior.

 "Sammy," he wants to scream and hug away all the suffering he'd create in his life by getting hurt and almost killed daily. He feels his heart getting smash by the weight of Sam's tears. Each droplet smashing into his face. "I know how to make him smile," James whispers silently, knowing the perfect plan to lift the tension between him and Sam.

Grinning, James faintly chuckles, "Oh! Hi, Sam." He tries to move his hand but stop dead in his tracks as a wave of pain paralyzes him from head to toe. Squeezing his eyes shut, he clutches his fists until his knuckles turn white. He waits impatiently for the pain to ease up to the point of being bearable. James let out a heavy breath before slowly unclenching his fists as he pushes the remainder of the pain back down.

"James!" Sam sobs. "Are you okay?" Tears flowing rapidly down his cheeks, soaking his vest and James's face.

"Yeah, just enjoying a relaxing bath. It's kind of chilly. Can you turn up the heat please, Sammy?" James cheerfully jokes.

James places his hand on Sam's cheek, trying to ignore the agonizing pain with every movement of his arm, especially with the burning sensation shooting up his wrist.

Sam smiles, "Glad you're okay, you big goof. You had me worried there for a bit." Carefully resting his sweaty palm on the top of James's hand, Sam squeezes it gently, trying to soothe the wounded teen.

"Aww! You do care. I'm touched," James smiles.

Pushing up on his elbows, James struggles to get up a little higher. He breathes in hard, as his heart continues to race rapidly against his chest. He feels all his pain and aches starting to melt away in a matter of seconds when a blast of energy courses through his veins. He quickly jumps to his knees, almost tumbling forward before embracing Sam in a tight bear hug. Sam sits there, stun, unable to understand what happened. Did James just jump, but how? He couldn't... a second ago, Sam groan with his head throbbing with thinking way too much about all the possible conclusions that will explain what exactly happen. Sam can feel his bones crushing beneath James tight hug. James whimpers weakly under his breath as his energy level downgrade, bringing back his aches and pains all at once. He bites down on his tongue to deny his screams from coming out. He let out an agonizing whimper as it is too painful to keep it in any longer.

"Dude, you're bleeding," Sam squeal. "I need to add pressure. Please let me go."

James loosen his grip immensely, resting his spinning head sluggishly against the side of Sam's shoulder, breathing rather heavily. Knowing he has to act fast with the minutes quickly fading away, Sam forcefully pries one of his arms free. "Okay, now I need a cloth or something. Oh, I got it!" Chomping hard on his sleeve, getting a good grip in his mouth, Sam yanks with all his might and tore a tiny hole in the fabric as the threads began to break apart. As he tugs with more determination, Sam makes sure he keeps an eye on James's health, which is hanging on a string. "I hope this helps slow down the bleeding a bit, so I can maybe carry him", he pleads loudly in ringing head.

"Rip!"

"Sweet," he mumbles, pulling the slightly moist sleeve out of his mouth, and ringing out most of the saliva. "Okay, this may sting a bit," Sam cautiously warns the trembling teen.

Gulping down his terror, James prepares himself for a little sting. He softly groans under his dry breath, shooting Sam a tired look follows by a faint nod.

"Okay. On my count. One... two... three," Sam slowly count out loud before roughly pressing the sleeve hard against the gushing wound.

"OUCH!" James screeches at the top of his lungs, cuddling his throbbing forehead. "What the heck, dude? You just said a sting. That hurt," he hisses angrily.

"Oh, I... I... I am sorry," Sam panic. "Um, can you please hold still? I know it hurts, but please. Maybe if you lay down, it will hurt less."

"Okay, can I please lay down on your lap?" James begs with his puppy eyes. "Please?"

Sam laughs while nodding his head. "You and your puppy dog eyes. How can I or anyone say no to that face?"

"Why do you think I do it so much?" James smiles innocently.

"Lay down, you big goof." Sam childishly puffs out his cheeks.

Taking a big breath in, James cautiously lowers his blood stain head towards Sam's lap. He hisses each time the breeze whips against his open wounds. He slightly jumps out of his skin with Sam warm hands caressing each one of his cheeks to help guide his pounding head onto his lap. James let out a sigh of relief.

"This is nice," James giggles. "I feel like taking a nap."

"No, James. No sleeping, not here," Sam orders with tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. "Hold still. We still need to control this bloody mess. Ready? On the count of three. One... two... three." Sam sobs while pressing the barely bloodstained sleeve against James's overflowing wound. James wheeze with the slight pressure on his possibly infected gash, he struggles under Sam's surprisingly strong grip. "Stop fighting. Hold still, will you?" Sam begs.

"No, it hurts!" James whines, fidgeting even more under Sam's weight, trying his hardest to get away from this agonizing pain.

"Oh, I know how to hold you still!" Sam snickers, making James instantly freeze with a wave of fear crashing over the top of his head. Drops of uneasiness glide down his spine as he shifts his head up nervously with a gulp. He catches a glimpse of the blond-headed boy snickering more aggressively.

"Oh, James," Sam sweetly sings, immediately catching the clueless boy's attention.

"Huh?" James gasps.

Sam leans in closer and brushes his chap lips softly against James's swollen black and blue cheek. James lay there, speechless, yet confuse with what exactly happen, did Sam... just kiss me? he wonders if he is dreaming or not.

Sam couldn't help but admire his best friend's childish face, resting peacefully on his lap. Shaking his mind clear, "stay focus," he chants under his breath. Clasping both of his hands on the severed, bloodstained sleeve, he pushes hard with all his might against the crack in his best friend's skull. He stares intensely at James's face, scrunching up with each strike of pain. Sam exhale, knowing he can't help it.

While gently stroking his cheek, Sam tries to calm down the wounded teen with his delicate words.

"Sorry, Jamey. I know what I am doing," he whispers, but he feels horrible for causing someone that he cares some much for, agonizing pain. There is no way around this without causing pain to himself or James. "I need to stop the bleeding", Sam whispers. Pressing his sleeve harder, he notices that the once-white fabric is drench in copper-red fluids. He feels his breakfast crawling up his throat.

"I need another piece of material to clog his blood," Sam whispers to himself.  Taking a deep breath in, he yanks one of his hands away, while leaning the rest of his weight on his remaining hand against James's gash as he struggles to slip off his crimson-stain sweater vest with one hand. As his eyes flutter open, James couldn't help but laugh at the teen, who is having great difficulty taking off his sweater.

 "Hey, dude. Do you need help?" James yawns.

"Can you please apply pressure on your head with this sleeve for me, while I try to get this stained thing off? Thank you," Sam asks.

James weakly presses his trembling fingers against his slimy skull, he let out a faint hiss with feeling drain from just doing this simple task. Yawning more aggressively, he finds it harder to deny his body sleep. Even with trying his best to distract his wandering mind with keeping his vision focus on Sammy’s face. But it is no use; he can feel the dream world calling his name. 

Sam glances down at the tired young teen and lectures, "Sorry, Jamey, but you can't take a nap, not even for a little bit."

Sam's murmurs out of frustration rather than letting his emotions get to him as he didn't have time to break down. He quickly scrunches up the once clean sweater into a wad of stained up fabric, not caring if it is perfect or not. He gulps down nervously before carefully placing it on James's red forehead. Taking a deep breath in, Sam aggressively forces the vest down. He uses all the strength he has left to push further into the stubborn, little gash. James struggles to slip his blood cover hand free from under Sam's grip; before gently laying it on his upset stomach. He twitches now and then every time a wave of pain slaps across his face, which on the bright side helps keep his eyes open a bit longer. He clutches his shirt with the strikes of pain digging deeper, just above his crack bones. James whimpers pathetically under his breath, waiting for this torture to end.

"Can I go to sleep?" James whines, wanting desperately to shut his weighted-down eyelids for a second of peace and quiet without all this pain.

"Are you that tired?" Sam questions, trying his best to start up a conversation, on the off chance it might distract James from closing his eyes. "When did you wake up?"

"Um, I think at five or six, but I am not sure. I kind of had several mini-accidents this morning," James chuckles lightly with a hint of pain intertwine with each laugh.

"Accidents... several of them.... other than this one?" Sam asks nervously, afraid of the answer. Hoping, just hoping, he is kidding. He crosses his fingers, hoping his answer is no.

"Oh, yeah. It was no big deal. I just slipped on my magazines after the sun tried to set me on fire," he laughs carelessly.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Magazines?"

"Fine, comic books. I kind of fell headfirst on the floor several times and, I think, on a doorknob, too," he explains, thinking back at the distant memories of earlier that morning. Unfortunately, it is just one fuzz ball of scattered images.

"Can I see... um... I mean, can I see if it is infected or has gotten worse with the recent incident?" Sam asks nervously.

"Um, sure? Just lift up the left side of my bangs, the one that kind of looks matted," James instructs.

Sam hesitates for a second, afraid of what can be under his bangs. Hoping it is just a small bruise or cut, but yet he has some doubt with James comment on how he was set on fire. But how is it that possible? It’s not, it can't be. Sam tries his best to shake the vivid images from his already traumatized mind. Taking a deep breath in before carefully brushing the tips of James's bangs delicately with his fingertips.

Sam's stomach quickly flips at the sight of a rather large welt planted on James's forehead. James tightly squeezes his eyes shut, moaning silently under his breath with the wounds on his forehead finally being expose to the harsh, cold elements and Sam's nervous breathing.

"Sam, there's more," James mutter weakly.

Sam stares at James in disbelief, unsure of what to say "... More?" Gulping down his fear, Sam feels light headed as he tries to lift the matted bangs further up as gently as he can, slowly revealing a dark copper-red burn drilled into the base of his skull. Sam gasps, unable to speak as he frantically tries to find something to say, knowing it is rude to stare without saying anything.

"Gross," Sam spits out. He quickly claps his hands over his lips, baffled by what had come out of his mouth.

That's not what I wanted to say, he screams in his head. Looking over at James, he notices a hint of sadness in his dim, green eyes. Sam feels disgusted with himself. Nervously, he reaches out a sweaty hand, but quickly withdrew, afraid he will cause more damage than help. He let it fall carelessly by his side as he turns away from James in hopes he can prevent his tears from falling.

"Sammy, are you all right?" James asks out of concern, forgetting Sam's comment instantly.

"No, I am not all right!" Sam shouts angrily.

James jumps from such a sudden outburst from one of the quietest kids he'd ever known. Mouthing Sam's name under his breath, James bites down on his tongue to keep his words from coming out. He stares at the irritate teen for an answer. He wants to know what could of happen to make him lash out like this.

"Why can't I protect you? You're always...  getting hurt, and all I can do is try to help you out or walk you to the nurse." Sam tries to keep the anger out of his voice as he slams his fists hard on the frozen concrete ground, inches away from James's head. James's eyes widen with terror; he'd never seen this side of Sam. He is usually always cheerful, yet here he here, breaking down in front of him in pure rage. Tightly squeezing his eyes shut, Sam did not want his tears to fall, once again. "Yet it doesn't seem like enough. Why can't I protect you? I want to keep you safe! However, after every accident, I just sit and cry my eyes out, while you are in immense pain." Sam clutches his fist tightly, lifting it up, ready to slam it on the concrete again to unleash his uncontrollable anger. He slams it down with all his might, but something soft blocks his hand from coming in contact with the pavement. Cautiously opening one eye, Sam is mortified by what is witnessing. James's hand being crush into the concrete under his fist. James clasps his bloody fingers around Sam's hand tightly and lifts both of their hands in the air. Sam holds his breath, watching his green eyes flashing with pure anger.

"I never want to lose another person who is close to me," he growls, "especially you."

Sam feels terrified. He'd never seen James ever look this dead serious before. Choking down his fear, he cups James's chin with his free hand with fresh tears stinging harshly in his puffy red eyes.

"James, I am not going anywhere. I am just angry... I can't protect you," he whispers sweetly.

James went completely silent; he hates crying, but he can't hold back his tears anymore. While chewing on the tip of his tongue, he feels a splash of metallic flavoring coating the base of his damage taste buds. As James allows one of his precious tears to spill down his cheek, Sam didn't know what to do; he'd never seen James weep without trying to hide it first. Even though he feels horrible for James, for the first time since he'd met him in second grade, he feels useful. If he couldn't help him out physically, he can surely help him out with the emotional damage of every accident.

"It's not that. I know you will never leave me, and I love you for that," James whispers quietly under his breath, blushing lightly.

"You said you... love... me?" Sam sits there, stun, with his mouth hanging open.

"Well, yeah, I always have." James scratches his head timidly. "You are always there for me from when I tumbled down the stairs headfirst in second grade to when I almost got hit by a car last week. You are always by my side to lift me up or cheer me up when I am down. You never saw me as anything other than James. You never blame..." James falls silent on the last part of his speech as he remembers all the insults, everyone had thrown at him back at Shatter Glass. Where they blamed him for everything and anything that went wrong in their little lives. "Why... what did I do?" he mutters under his breath. He didn't want Sam to see him totally breaking apart. He has to be brave; he has to, not just for himself, but for Sam, too. "Sorry, Sam," James whimpers softly.

He senses warm trembling fingers crawling across his red blush cheeks. James looks up in astonishment at Sam smiling, tears glimmering in his sapphire blue eyes.

"I love you, too, James... It doesn't matter if you get injured on a daily basis. I am and will always be there to lift you up. In a way, it strengthens our bond by knowing we will always have each other's backs. I love the way you are. Don't be sorry about something that doesn't need to be fixed because you are already perfect," Sam shares.

James can't help but smile because he finally feels like he isn't a burden to Sam for the first time since they met. He feels content, better than content; he feels lucky. Laughing under his breath, he chuckles, I am lucky. Maybe this curse is not a big deal after all.