JAY'S POV:
I takes me long time to wake up the next day. It's almost night time when I wake up. My head is hurting and I slowly, very slowly, sit up and try to remember why I'm feeling this way. It's stupid because I'm supposed to start my mission at the rehabilitation center today and instead I'm lying here like some teenager with a bad hangover.
Cory limps over and sits on the bed next to me, biting his lip. "How do you feel?" he asks me.
"Great," I answer dryly and he gives me a look.
"Honestly," Cory says. "I thought it would just be a bit of fun."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't," I snap and it comes out a little sharper than I mean it to.
Cory's eyes narrow. "It's not like I wanted this to happen, Jay! It's the first time anyone's been this close to assassinating you!"
It takes a few minutes for Cory to explain what happened last night and what Sadie told him and I just groan. To me, it's obvious what the reason behind this is. It isn't the first time someone has tried to kill me. That seems to happen at a regular interval these days.
"Maybe I should have a little talk with Marc. He and his friends are definitely behind this."
"What?" Cory says. "You can't be serious. They wouldn't dare to do something like that."
I raise an eyebrow. Usually, Cory is the suspicious one of us. He certainly was with Peter and the group of people he came here with.
"Cory, they're bad influence," I argue. " They have to know something."
"Oh really? You don't think Peter and his 'friends' are a bad influence? Michael tried to shoot you, I don't you if you've forgotten about that all of a sudden, because I haven't!"
"You are not going to see Marc again!" I insist.
Cory's eyes are hard. "Is that an order? Or do I actually get a say in this?"
"No. You have to stay away from them," I say and get to my feet. I don't feel great but I have a mind to get a hold of Cory's new 'friends'.
I take Jason and a few other recruits and head to the bar where Marc and his friends are sitting once again. Oh, how predictable. Cory has also limped his way here, too, despite our argument. I just let him as long as he stays in the background.
We surround the table, so Marc and his friends can't leave. They all look slightly rattled, except for one guy who just looks mad. It's the same guy Marc partnered with last night for beer pong.
"Okay. We need to know who poisoned my drink last night and why you would chose to steal from the rehabilitation center, from the very people trying to help you. Why would you do that?"
Marc turns to me, his face full of shock. "What are you talking about? Your drink was spiked?" He sounds annoyingly surprised, which is not at all the reaction I was hoping for.
"Yes, unfortunately," I reply. "So just admit it. That way we can deal with this in a more civilized way."
Marc looks around the table and his eyes land on the guy who is glaring at me. Jason also has an extra eye on him.
"Don?" Marc asks.
'Don' gets up and doesn't seem to find us intimidating. He holds his arms up in surrender and Jason makes to take his hands. But Don is not about to play nice and whips around, punching Jason in the face before fleeing from us. My guys are in pursuit. I curse under my breath and see to Jason, who's nose is bleeding and he seems a bit confused. It isn't like him to get distracted like that. Normally, Jason has quick reflexes. I make a mental note to ask him about it.
Marc and his other friends put their hands up, all shaken by what's just happened.
"We have nothing to do with it, I swear," Marc promises me. His eyes plead with me and also with Cory, who's standing near me. I almost explode with anger when I see the way Marc looks at Cory.
The whole thing is one big mess and I have to bite back my anger and listen to Marc's explanation. He tells us that Don has been acting strange lately, but that they had no idea he had joined the rebels. The story is annoyingly believable. Marc even promises to come in tomorrow to help us find Don, but I refuse, saying it isn't necessary. There are only so many places he can be within camp walls.
We stay and talk to everyone else at the bar. Quite a few of them were also here last night, but we don't get much useful info from their statements. No one has seen anything. Apparently, Don has hidden his intentions pretty well. This is the worst part about these rebels trying to topple over my dad. They are very sneaky about everything they do and they are slippery like eel, managing to get away the very moment you think you have them. They are still one step ahead of us.
We leave the bar after a couple of hours, going straight to headquarters. My dad has sent several teams out to look for Don in the mean time. He doesn't have time to scold me, but I know he isn't happy with my decision to go drinking at the bar. My dad has never been a fan of alcohol, not even in the old world. If I ever came home drunk, I was sure to be lectured. My head still hurts slightly, and my body feels stiff. More than usual, that is.
I head over to Jason, who is sitting in an old office chair, holding a piece of cloth to his nose. I take the chair next to him, needing to sit down myself. There is something strange about Jason's behavior today. He haven't heard him cuss at all, not even when that guy Don hit him.
"Okay. Out with it," I demand and Jason eyes me with his nose still pointed upwards. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
Jason takes the cloth away from his nose and thankfully, it has stopped running. It isn't as bad as it could be.
"Uh... It's Elena..." he admits.
I frown. Elena is Jason's new girlfriend. Well, I say 'new' because I didn't get to meet her until recently. Apparently, he met her before I came back and says she's the best thing that's happened to him in a long time. Cory teases him with it, telling poor Jason that he's become a romantic. It's fun to see the two of them being like that now.
Jason digs into his pocket and hands me something in. It turns out to be a tiny bow, the kind you'd put in the hair of a little girl.
"What is this?" I ask him.
He sits up a little straighter. Then a huge smile spreads on his face. "Jay, I'm gonna be a father."
Having been worried before, I now feel incredibly relieved and hug him tightly. "That's wonderful! I'm happy for you," I tell him, surprised to see my friend get emotional.
"Elena told me yesterday. Of course, we'll have no way of knowing if it's a boy or a girl. But she thinks it's a girl. It's just... Jay, I never thought I'd be a dad! I have no idea what to do," he admits, chuckling.
"Just be happy. I'm sure it will all turn out fine. New life is important."
He nods and then begins to go on about how awesome it would be to have a kid he could teach football or just how much he would have to teach them. It truly is some of the best news I have had lately.
We almost have a full maternity department in our hospital. There is a group for new mothers, a daycare, and a nurse to help the new parents. It's all very new, but so far it's proved to be one of our best investments so far. My father believes that new babies are the way to rebuild our world. I agree. Several people are adopting orphaned children and Jason has even started a football team where he coaches a bunch of young kids, giving them something to do around camp a few afternoons a week. It isn't very serious, but it is great fun. Sometimes, I join in on practice. Still, my skills aren't what they used to be. In fact, my throwing arm is so stiff I can hardly play at all. It makes me a little sad, but it's just another sacrifice I've had to make. At least, that's how I see it. But right now, I want to celebrate the news that my best friend is going to be a dad. That's what really matters.
Cory comes in, looking like his leg is bothering him. Despite that and the day we've had, though, he congratulates Jason enthusiastically when hearing the good news and squeezes my shoulder.
"You know," Jason punches me lightly on the knee to get my attention. "Me and Elena were wondering if you two would like to be the godfathers?" He looks from me to Cory with a hopeful expression.
"Yes!" I answer instantly, completely taken aback.
"Of course! we'd love to!" Cory says, agreeing.
"Good," Jason replies smiling brightly. "We thought you'd be a great choice."
Jason's eyes sparkle with joy and I put my arms around him, congratulating him again. I try to ruffle his hair a bit, but my arm gets stuck in place and I need Jason's help to get it down again. He doesn't comment, knowing what to do, and knowing that I hate to talk about things like that.
After that much needed highlight, Cory and I are sent back home by my dad. We walk in silence, Cory limping on his good leg, saving the bad one. He refuses any lifts and any help, only having accepting the crutches as help. I know he is mad at me for believing it was Marc who poisoned me. But I still don't trust the guy. There's something fishy about him. But like Cory, I'm too proud to admit that I've done anything wrong. Of course, this is far from being our first argument and not nearly the worst. But it's probably not over yet. If I'm not much mistaken, Cory has more to say.
When we arrive at the house, another surprise awaits us in the form of Peter and Michael waiting for us outside the house. Cory groans in annoyance, but stays otherwise stays quiet. My eyes follow Michael's every move. Both he and Peter look like little boys who's caught in some kind of mischief. I'm not exactly jumping up and down at the sight of them, either.
"Jay..." Peter's voice is begging. "Before you say anything, please listen to what Michael has to say, will you?"
I glance at Peter, then look back at Michael who only dares to meet my gaze a few milliseconds at a time. I nod.
"I'm really sorry," Michael tells me. "I don't know what happened. It's a bad excuse for doing what I did, I know that. I just had a hard time wrapping my head around all this. Being dead is usually permanent, you know... so when it suddenly wasn't, I got scared. I really am incredibly sorry. Of course, I know you won't hurt us."
Even though Michael's words are earnest, my stomach turns horribly. He believes them, but I'm not sure I do. What if he is right? What if I really could hurt someone again? What if this overdose of medication isn't just about scary hallucinations? What if I'm experiencing another side effect of the cure? What if it isn't really possible to come back to life when you're supposed to be dead? What if the dose I got doesn't last forever?
My thoughts are swirling and I accept Michael's apology, but don't want to shake his hand. He understands and Peter mumbles a 'thank you' to me before they leave.
I have another terrible nightmare that night. I wake up drenched in sweat and try to understand why my subconscious keeps showing me images of people I hurt. Images, I really would do anything not to see again. I decide I have to act. There must be something wrong with me.
I get up from the bed and try to put on my shoes as silently as possible, so I don't wake Cory. But it doesn't work out so well. He hears me and lifts his head to see what I'm doing. He sighs when he sees my shirt, getting up to. I just shake my head and begin to walk out and away from the house with Cory scrambling to follow me.
"Where are you going?" he asks breathlessly. Before, I was the one scrambling to keep up with him.
I don't answer and keep on walking until l reach a certain part of headquarters. It's where my dad keeps a room outfitted with three prison cells. I ask the guard to open one of them and place myself in there, asking for the door to be locked. The guard looks perplexed, but follows my orders in front of an incredulous Cory.
"This is ridiculous," Cory says from the other side of the prison bars. The look in his eyes is threatening to get through to me, but I have to stand by my decision of separate myself from him and anyone else. I won't hurt anyone. Never again.
"No. It's better this way," I answer. "We don't know what's gonna happen to me after this poisoning. Until Sadie has answers, I'd rather stay isolated. What if I went nuts with you in the room? What if I hurt you?"
Cory scoffs. "Hurt me?" The disbelief in his voice is all too evident. "You would never. Besides, how do you even know you're a danger to anyone? You were drugged, Jay! You're not becoming that again!"
I feel how all warm emotions fade from my eyes. "The nightmares are bad enough, Cory! I remember what I did, you know. I can never forget it and I can never forgive myself. I won't risk doing it again."
Cory frowns at me. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demands.
I make sure to look him in the eyes. "I think the cure I got might be wearing off. It's not working the way it's supposed to. Maybe it's not just because I was poisoned. So maybe it's a good thing that I'm going to the rehabilitation center if I'm broken."
As these words leave my mouth, Cory becomes completely speechless. He blinks a few times and looks as if I've just slapped him across the cheek. The hurt in his eyes pierce me and I already feel more guilty than I thought I would. I should have never told him. I knew this was going to happen.
"I hate this decision, you know that?" He grabs my wrists to prevent me from moving away from him. "You can stay in that cage all you want, but I'm not going anywhere. If you're staying here, so am I."
I roll my eyes. He is as stubborn as ever. Stubborn enough to stay with me through the night. He refuses to let go of me, undoubtedly to prove his point. I watch him sleep, not able to sleep myself. I can only hope Cory's right when he insists I can't hurt him. I don't know what I'd do if that happened. That really would be the worst thing that could happen to me. Worse than anything else. But Michael's words echo in my head; "Of course, I know you won't hurt us." Of course I won't by free will. But after that poisoning I'm afraid to lose my will again and become an empty shell again, looking for the next feed, to fill the dark and endless hole inside. I remember that feeling, too, all too well. That emptiness can feel heavier than anything else I've ever experienced and the memories of it are almost as painful as the guilt I carry for my actions.
I sit with Cory's hand in mine and watch the sunrise and the light moving closer and closer to us until it blinds us both, waking Cory up. He doesn't say much at first, which is unusual for him. Instead, he watches me with a disturbingly thoughtful gaze. Hopefully, he isn't about to go off on me again. I'm not sure I can take another round just now.
When he is about to say something, I cut him off. "Cory, please. I'm too tired to talk right now."
His response is to direct a glare at me, struggling to get to his feet. I'm expecting him to march off and I'm preparing to yell after him and tell him he's overreacting - but instead, he marches over to the guard and demands that he open my cell. The guard refuses the first time around, until Cory's expression becomes murderous and he tells the guard to give him the keys or he'll be put on dead watch. It's uncharacteristic for Cory to say something like that. Dead watch isn't a job favored by, well, anyone. It means to care for those still considered dead - and dangerous. Those, the medical team either hasn't been able to help yet or those, who don't respond to the cure. Jason takes watch there sometimes, perhaps out of guilt, perhaps because it means others don't have to. He's asked me to take watch with him a few times, but I always refuse. I can't look at them like animals in cages. I can't look at the state I used to be in. I can't look at all that emptiness.
Cory's dead watch threat is more than enough to convince the guard to obey and he unlocks the door to my cell, leaving the room on Cory's orders.
Cory turns to look at me, still fuming. For a second it looks like he wants to strangle me and he marches inside, slamming the door after himself.
"There. Now we can be in prison together," he says and doesn't hesitate to limp right up to me and look me right in the eye. "When are you going to get the fucking memo? We are in this together, asshole. You don't get to run off on me again. Then you take me with you."
I want to protest loudly when he pushes me into the wall, pinning me there. Him still being stronger than me, means that I can't do anything but follow his lead.
"I don't want to hear your fucking excuses," Cory continues. "I only want to hear one thing."
"One thing?" I ask.
"Yes," he insists. "And you know goddamn well what that is."
A sad smile forms on my face. I don't fight him and feel his grip slacking because my reaction confuses him.
"I love you," I tell him.
Then he hits my chest pretty hard. His strength isn't something to joke about these days.
His reaction is to glare at me. "I love you too, jerk," he replies and lets go of me about to leave.
I pull him back to look him in the eyes, caressing his hands. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, you know. I'm trying to protect you."
He grumbles a little more, but he still reacts to my touch which pleases me. That means he isn't really angry with me anymore. With this reassurance, I take my time, kissing him slowly. He tries to hit me again, just to be spiteful, but I anticipate his move and grab his hand before he can go through with it. The movement just provokes me to deepen the kiss. It still isn't the end of this argument, I'm well aware. Still, I need to feel the safety and comfort only Cory can give me, so I lead him back to our place and our bed.