Torn my shirt to stop your bleeding, but nothing ever stops you leavin'.

Alex had never been good at staying still, and being forced to rest only made the quiet louder. The medical room smelled of antiseptic and metal, every shadow in the corner too still, too patient. The sterile hum of machines did nothing to drown out the noise in their head.

They hated how their thoughts kept circling back—to the gunshot, the pain, King's words echoing hours after he'd left. I see you. I always see you.

They wanted to rip the words out of their skull.

But worse than that, worse than the memory of King's voice, was the faint sound of footsteps approaching down the hall. Softer this time. Familiar.

Alex closed their eyes and forced their breathing to even out. Pretend to be asleep. Maybe whoever it was would take the hint and leave.

The door creaked open anyway.

"Alex?" Jessie's voice. Gentle, uncertain. The one voice they didn't want to hear and couldn't ignore.

Alex's hand twitched against the blanket, but they didn't turn. "I don't want visitors."

The door shut softly. A pause, and then a quiet sigh. "You don't get to say that to me," Jessie murmured, not unkindly. "Not after everything."

"Everything?" Alex repeated, voice low and sharp, finally turning their head. "You mean after they shot us? Or after you decided to forgive them?"

Jessie flinched, just barely, but didn't back down. He stepped closer, sunlight catching on the faint bruises at his throat. He looked tired—his hair mussed, eyes hollow—but there was warmth there too. The same softness Alex remembered from the prison yard, from long nights pressed back-to-back against the cold.

"Alex," Jessie said carefully, "I didn't—"

"Yes, you did." Alex cut him off, voice rising. "You forgave them. Just like that. Like none of it mattered."

Jessie's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed calm. "It wasn't like that."

"Oh, no?" Alex pushed, the bitterness spilling fast now. "You saw Maverick, what, once, and suddenly it's all water under the bridge? He shot at you, Jess. He shot at you. And King—"

"King saved your life," Jessie said quietly.

Alex froze. The words sliced through them sharper than any knife. For a second, they couldn't speak. The silence buzzed, dangerous and brittle.

"Don't," Alex said finally, low and shaking. "Don't make excuses for them."

"I'm not," Jessie said. "I'm telling you the truth."

Alex stared at him, eyes glassy but burning with fury. "You think that makes it better? You think that means what they did is suddenly okay?"

Jessie shook his head. "No. It doesn't make it okay. But it means I can breathe again. It means I can stop hating everything just to stay alive."

That hit harder than Alex expected. They looked away, clenching their jaw, fighting the ache climbing up their throat.

"I wish I could do that," Alex muttered, almost to themself. "I wish I could just... let go. Pretend it doesn't hurt anymore."

Jessie took another cautious step closer. "You don't have to pretend. But holding onto it—it's only killing you slower."

Alex laughed, bitter and humorless. "And what, you think forgiveness saves you? It makes you free?"

"It makes me human," Jessie said softly.

Alex's head snapped toward him. "Then maybe I don't want to be human."

For a heartbeat, the air stilled. Jessie could see it then—the fracture lines running through Alex's armor, the exhaustion hiding beneath their anger.

"You're angry with me," Jessie said gently. "Not just them."

Alex didn't deny it. "You're damn right I am."

"Because I forgave them."

"Because you forgot me," Alex snapped, the words tearing out before they could stop themself. "You let them back in like nothing happened, like we didn't spend years together, like I wasn't there beside you when everything went to hell."

Jessie's throat worked, voice caught between reason and apology. "I didn't forget you."

Alex laughed again, hollow and raw. "Then what the hell do you call this?" They gestured toward the room, toward the stitched leg, toward the silence that had settled between them for months. "You got your closure, Jess. You got your happy ending. And I'm still here. Still stuck. Still bleeding."

Jessie's eyes glistened, and he took another step closer. "You're not stuck. You're just scared."

"I'm furious," Alex corrected, voice breaking halfway through. "I'm furious that you can just forgive them. That you can look at them and not feel like your lungs are collapsing. Because I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. Every time I breathe, it burns."

Jessie hesitated, then lowered himself into the chair beside the bed. He didn't reach out. He didn't touch. He just sat there, voice quiet but unwavering. "I loved them too, Alex. I still do. That doesn't make what happened okay. But it's the truth. And I think... I think maybe that's what makes it hurt less."

Alex's face twisted, torn between fury and heartbreak. "You're not supposed to say that."

"It's the only thing I can say," Jessie whispered. "Pretending otherwise nearly broke me."

The silence that followed wasn't peaceful—it was heavy, trembling with all the things they couldn't say.

Alex turned their face away again, jaw tight, leg twitching under the blanket. "You always were the better one," they muttered. "The one who could still find something worth saving."

Jessie shook his head. "No. I just finally stopped trying to destroy what I loved to prove I was strong."

That made Alex go still. Slowly, they looked at him, eyes bright with something too raw to name. "You think that's what I'm doing?"

"I think," Jessie said, "you're still trying to convince yourself you don't care."

Alex's breath came sharp. "Maybe I don't."

"Then why are you crying?" Jessie asked quietly.

Alex blinked, startled, and lifted a trembling hand to their cheek. The wetness there caught them off guard. They turned their face away again quickly, as if ashamed.

"Get out," Alex said hoarsely.

Jessie didn't move.

"I said get out!"

Jessie stood, slow, careful, like every motion risked breaking something fragile. He hesitated by the door, voice barely a whisper. "I'll be here when you're ready."

"Don't wait up," Alex muttered, refusing to look at him.

When the door shut, the silence came roaring back, and Alex finally let themselves crumble. The anger went first, then the pride, until all that was left was the ache—the unbearable loneliness of being the one who couldn't forgive.

They pressed their palms to their face, shaking, the tears coming faster now. The pain, the love, the betrayal—all tangled until they couldn't tell one from the other.

Jessie's footsteps faded down the hall, but his words stayed behind, echoing through the quiet.

I'll be here when you're ready.

Alex hated how much they wanted to believe him.

_______________

FOLLOW MY PATREON TO GET EARLY ACCESS!

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ALREADY UP THERE!