Make Me Strong

The week went back quicker than Misha had expected, and every day that had passed was a more brutal blow than any he had received in all his years of school. The day Jensen was going to board his plane to Houston had arrived, and Misha was far from ready to let him go. Misha couldn't keep his eyes off his best friend, watching him like a hawk as he packed up his most prized possessions. He watched as Jensen picked up a framed picture from about two years before and look at it for a long moment before he carefully wrapped in up in a shirt and put it in his bag.

"I can't tell you how hard it is for me to even think of leaving you behind," Jensen said suddenly, meeting Misha's gaze as he walked around the edge of his bed and sitting on the side closest to Misha. "You've made me a better person, someone who I never would have believed I could be." Misha sat down on top of the computer desk, clasping his hands together as he looked down. "I'm never going to let you go." That line came out in such a soft whisper, Misha had to practically strain to hear it, and he wasn't even sure he did.

"Then why don't you call those people and say never mind?" Misha asked, staring down at his own hands. "You don't have to leave."

"Yeah, I do," Jensen said, his head falling foward. "If I stay here, I'm gonna be stuck in a rut. I need to go at least for the duration of time it takes to get a degree in Theater. Maybe even save up some money to get us both out of here."

"I actually like it here. It's familiar," Misha said, almost too quick. They both looked at each other, blue meeting green, for one long moment.

"You could always come with me, and we could come back after a few years," Jensen said, hoping silently that Misha would take him up on the offer. It was almost instantaneous that Jensen knew Misha's answer, his eyes were always an open book. He couldn't hide nothing, no matter how subtle.

"I can't," Misha said, looking away, afraid he'd start crying. He didn't cry much, only when he felt hurt or scared, or both. At that moment, it was both. "Is this it, then?" Misha asked quietly, still unable to look Jensen in the eye.

Jensen was quiet for a long moment, but Misha still refused to look his way. "I suppose it is. For now, anyway," Jensen finally said, standing up and walking back over to his bag and zipping it closed. "You coming with me to the airport to see me off?" Misha nodded slowly, and slid of the desk. When he stood next Jensen, Jensen grabbed his shoulder and the bag and pushed him out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

As they walked out to the car, Misha felt practically numb inside. He felt like he did when he first moved to this place, like there was no one there for him. His best friend was leaving and everything seemed to be fading to grey.

Time Elapse

Jensen pulled into the airport parking lot, trying to find a place close enough so he could hurry and get inside. Shutting off the car, he pulled the keys out and handed them to Misha, who took them, trying not to seem too down in the dump. Both quickly got out of the car and made their way inside, jogging up to the line for departures. Misha soon stepped out of line so not to get in sucked into leaving, even though the thought was enticing. Just dropping everything and head out.

After about fifteen minutes, Jensen made his way over to where Misha was sitting, dropping his bag in the floor and sitting down next to him. After a few moments passed, Jensen arranged himself so that he was laying down, his head on Misha's thigh. He placed his arm across his eyes and then said, "Wake me up when they call for Houston." Misha agreed, almost glad that they weren't going to spend their last remaining hours talking.

The hours passed uneventful, and Misha was enjoying watching Jensen sleep. He seemed so relaxed, as though he didn't have a care in the world. There was about ten minutes before boarding, and Misha was about to wake Jensen up when he bolted upright, looking as freaked as if he watched someone get murdered. "You okay?" Misha asked, causing Jensen to jump a bit before facing him, his green eyes looking Misha over for a brief moment.

"Um, yeah," Jensen replied, clearing his throat and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "How much time is left?"

"They'll be calling for boarding passengers in about ten minutes, so you might want to head to the gate before too long." Nodding, Jensen stood up and grabbed his bag, still looking freaked out. "What's wrong?" Misha asked, giving Jensen a worried glance. Jensen didn't replied, just shook his head. Misha didn't press, knowing that it would only anger him.

Right before Jensen stepped in line, he wrapped Misha into a bear hug. Misha felt Jensen relax when his arms wrapped around him and patted his back. "I'll be alright, really. I just had a freak dream." Misha nodded, and after a moment, they separated. Patting Misha's shoulder one last time, Jensen smiled. "See you in a few years, Collins."

As Jensen got in line, Misha kept his eyes on him, making sure that he truly was alright. Something about the way he said freak dream didn't settle right in the pit of his stomach. Maybe one day when Jensen returned, he'd tell Misha about it, but right now, Misha knew he wouldn't get nothing more than freak dream and declarations of being totally fine.

When the line started foward, Jensen kept glancing back at Misha, making Misha's heart constrict tighter, but he didn't let the green-eyed brute know. All too soon, Jensen was out of sight, and that was when Misha allowed his tears to flow, unsure of when he'd actually see his friend again.

Before heading out of the building, Misha whispered, "Come home to me." The world became grey, and as if the sky knew how he felt, the rain started coming down.

Misha was glad he didn't have an umbrella for once.