Breathe

"Jax, pick up, okay, I need to talk to you."

Hang up. Collapse onto the whining mattress. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe. Close teary eyes and inhale, exhale. Breathe.

Jax knew from the start that the boy was perfect. "I'm Jax and you're impossibly attractive, so I think we should hang out, okay?"

"Jax, please. Answer the damned phone, okay? Just pick up. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Exit the basement, ignore the soundtrack of creaking stairs and a heavy heartbeat. Pace the perimeter of the living room, bump into the coffee table more than three times. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Push the increasing worry down. Breathe.

The afternoon was filled with awkward jokes and genuine smiles; it had been so long since Jax had felt such happiness. "I liked this, we should hang out again. You wanna hang out again?"

"Jax. Please, I dunno what you're doing, just call me back. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Ease onto the couch, sink into the cushions, and try and rest. Try and calm down. Try and calm down some, as much as possible. Stare at the carpet, nails digging into the skin of the left arm as anxiety threatens to choke. Shake it away, try and relax. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe.

Jax wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and lowered his head some, so incredibly like his past self. "So, uh, look, I...I'm not usually all, uh...shit, being nervous sucks. D'you wanna be my boyfriend? Because I really, really like you."

"Did I do something? Call me back. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Drag into the kitchen. Eat something, anything, to distract from the terrorizing thoughts of whatever could be happening to Jax. Try to stop being so scared, so nervous. Turn on music to distract from the thoughts. Cringe and switch the song when it registers in memory as Jax's favorite. There is nothing in the house that is not linked to Jax somehow. Listen to the sound of Jax's favorite artist while eating one of the things Jax can actually cook. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe.

Jax leaned him, smiling so wide and feeling so peaceful. "I feel like you should know, you're the best thing that ever happened. You make me really happy, ya know? And I love you. Uh-huh, I love you. A lot."

"I'm scared. Call me back. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Realize with a start that it's midnight. Fall onto the couch, too worried to make it to the bed. Hide away in Jax's favorite t-shirt, ignore the burning in the eyes that tears make. Ignore the feeling that things are not okay and pretend that they are. Try and fall asleep with happy memories playing behind eyelids. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe.

Jax had to think for the longest time; for three good years, he was unsure if talking about all of his old issues was the best thing to do. "I'm no badass, ya know? The day before I met you, I actually decided something. The following week, next Wednesday, it was my birthday. And I was gonna end it."

"Happy birthday, Jax. Still waiting. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Fully awaken, stare at the ceiling. It is a new day. Push down the paranoia, push back the worry. Turn over. Sit up. Substitute his presence with his scent, pulling on the edge of the t-shirt. Hope. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe.

Jax took his hand and gave him a short, sweet kiss. "I would never dream of that now. Don't you worry, babe. Everything's better now, I promise. I love you. Now, onto happier matters. You look really cute in that hoodie. It swallows you."

"Jax. Jax. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Shiver. Grab the hoodie that Jax said looks cute. See now, with a small smile, that it still swallows. Wonder if it will really be okay. Turn on the TV. Cross fingers on the left hand and clutch the phone with the right. Breathe.

No thoughts ran through Jax's head as he finished up his stumbled speech. "I love you, I love you, I love you. So can I ask something, huh, please? Will you...ugh, being nervous is so weird. Will you...okay, now. Will you marry me? Please, please, please?"

"Jax, just call me back. Please. I-I love you so much."

Drop the phone. Pause. Then scream. Sob loud and harsh and don't give a damn about who might be listening. Feel the pain of a heart cracking, shattering. Let the TV keep playing. Let them tell of how a young man was in the wrong place at the worst time (as were three others, which is just as sad). Realize now that it has been five years to the day today that Jax was going to leave this world by his own hand. Realize now that Jax has left this world by someone else's hand. Breathe.

Jax's eyes were bright as he made a promise for life. "No, babe, I swear. I'm not going anywhere."

"Jax, I love you."

Hang up. Sit on the carpet still, listen to the story again. All the news does is repeat tragedies all day. Let the tears fall. Ignore how horrible this is and look at how things work out. Clutch the phone with the right hand. Breathe.

Jax hated to see him upset. "C'mon, babe, don't cry. It's not gonna be bad forever. Ya know who I learned that from?"

"I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Tears slide down. Don't bother wiping them away. Look at the missed calls on the phone and cry harder when it is shown that Jax texted twice yesterday, right before the incident, and an unknown number - the hospital? - called late last night. Clutch the phone with the right hand. Breathe.

'from: jaxxx

i'll be home soon, babe!'

'from: jaxxx

i may not make it home. just know that i love you so so so much. i do.'

"I...Jax. I'm still here. I love you. Bye."

Hang up. Wonder when it will be okay to stop calling. Wonder when there will be closure. Realize that there will never be closure. Brush fingers against the engagement ring (two more weeks) and choke on sobs. Feel the sting of tears building behind eyelids. Experience the pain of abandonment, of loss, and of heartbreak all at once. Dial Jax's number for the millionth time to tell him what he already knows. Wonder if, somehow, someway, he is actually hearing this. Clutch the phone with the right hand. Breathe.

"I love you, Jax. Bye."

Five years ago, Jax was going to be in this very position: huddled into a corner, a gun to his temple, unable to cry from the absolute fear. He was shaking, eyes closed, unable to look at the scene around him. Jax had a reason to live this time, though, and that reason to live was calling and calling. All Jax could do was whisper. "I love you, baby." He knew death was imminent, and what he was worried about was not getting a proper goodbye, when five years ago, he didn't give a damn and well...It was funny, really, Jax thought to himself, how the cards tended to play themselves out.