[M] Say My Name [TF2 BL]

Part 2

Jay POV

I wake up with a horrible headache on a splintery wooden floor, with thick smoke in the air. I groaned and felt my throbbing head, and looked over to see Peter knocked unconscious. I gasped and then sharply choked on the nasty, dense air around me; I slowly dragged Peter out of the small room and down the stairs of the tall building. "So this is what it's like to huff the smoke when people are around me," I growled as I tugged Peter out of the building. I finally set him down and picked him up and carried him to his team's base, or whatever was left of it. I turned the corner and saw that a side of the base was completely blown the splinters. I set him down and knelt down to try and shake him awake. "Peter... Wake up..." He had no injuries or anything impailed in his body; though he was breathing, just very shallowly. I couldn't help the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, and shook him harder. "Peter! Mon dieu, wake up please!" Troubling thoughts ran through my mind, and I didn't know what to do.

I didn't know if he was dying or not, he didn't budge. I felt my heart slowly sinking and continued to shake the enemy sniper, hoping that he would wake up. I felt hot tears dripping off of my cheeks and buried my face into his chest, and yelled. "Mon dieu, don't fucking die!" I heard my own yells repeated, and over time turning into weak wishful prayers. I was hiccupping and practically cried until I felt sick, trying repeat that one sentence. "Don't fucking die." I look up to his closed eyes and slimly gaped mouth. 'The feelings I always pent up inside, was it worth it, Jay?' I felt more hot, practically boiling tears travel own my cheeks. 'He's probably dead, you fucking dumbass.' I sighed, evidently shaking through it. "I'm sorry, Peter..." I hesitated, but then kissed his chapped lips; it was a quickly but I deeply pressed my lips onto his, I wish he was awake to feel it. After a moment, I wiped my tears, got up and carried him deeper into into his base in hopes of finding Ned, his team's medic.

I navigated the smokey terrain of splintered wood and dusty, crumbled cement for what seemed forever, and not a single response from Peter of consciousness. I bit my lip at the multiple sickening knots in his core, soon my knees gave into the twisted, vicoral feelings within.  My previous repeatitive words slipped from my lips again, as I looked down at the pale enemy sniper. I painfully huffed for oxygen, but got weak and fainted. Blinks of Peter's pale cheeks and the unshaved sideburns that bordered them were the last moments that had bore holes into my turning mind. 'I'm sorry.'

I woke up again to his teammates observing my eyes opening, first blinded by the light overhead. I quickly gained awareness of what happened before blacking out. "Peter!?" I shrieked, sitting up sharply. "Calm down, we pulled you and the enemy sniper out of that hazy place. Was enough drama getting both of you guys out." I rubbed my temples and leaned back on the bench I was resting on; I felt a heavy, sickening pain in my chest, aside from the knots in my stomach. I tried to take a deep inhale but I could hardly breath. "Ugh, merde. Doctor, I can hardly breath." "You inhaled a lot of concrete dust, plus your smoking habits aren't helping your case Jay." Quipped Ned, the enemy medic.

Peter POV

I looked at Cole confused and in shock. "I beg your pardon?" Cole tipped his helmet over his temples and rolled his eyes. "You heard me, maggot. He's gay for you." I felt my cheeks blush wildly and turned back to Cole after a moment. He didn't look happy in the eyes, but his teasing smile made it hard for me to determine whether he was gonna force his shovel up there or not. "I can tell you're returning emotions too, maggot. Not my teammate." Cole chuckled. After a moment of looking me in the eyes with that life-threatening glare, he let out a loud wheeze. For a second, I slipped a weak smile on my face and chuckled nervously. "Sure I do, I guess. I mean- I... Don't know." Cole sniffed and pointed his thick finger between my eyes.

"Ah ah ah soldier, just because Jay is the biggest asshole of a spy you'll ever match off, doesn't mean he's not a good colleague of mine. That asshole of a Frenchman though, I'll tell ya. He's a good soldier, he knows when to shut up and follow orders." Cole kept on rambling about Jay; he was making it crystal clear to not hurt him in anyway though. This time he was lucky with the exception; if you pissed off Cole before matches in any way, he would bite you in the ass on the battlefield, even grudges. "Anyway, I don't now much about this whole 'gay' thing though, unfortunately I don't comprehend the perspection of a queer mind." I shrugged. "Dunno either, it seems weird."

"Is asking out still a thing?" "I think so." Cole shifted forward. "Do you think so or do you know so?" I shrug again. "Shit's confusing." Cole shook his head and got up from the cot they sat on. "You're on your own then, I don't know what to do with gay relationships." I sighed, "Same here." Cole scoffed and walked away. I wheezed from the cement dust and smoke inside my lungs. I was having the worst headache, eye ache and chest pains, it all felt like lying in a bed of porcupines. I slammed back onto the cot face-first, moaning loudly. I felt like shit and didn't know if Jay was in a better condition than me. Ned came into the tent with a medi-gun, and set a box on the cot next to my head.

"Where does it hurt now?" I rolled over to face the Red medic, and graoned. "Head, eyes, chest... Wait a minut-" Ned shushed me. "No more questions until the calibration is finished." Peter threw a hand in the air in an impatient manner as Ned's sleek, white gun beeped in weird sequences. I rubbed my forehead and groaned as Ned glared at the small remote screen. "Peter I don't intend to alarm you, but you have a bunch of concrete in your lungs." I wheezed and grunted, "No shit, Doc. What happens in order to fix it?" Ned ran his gloved fingers through his black, slick hair. "Maybe cellular or steam therapy?" 'Ugh, more fucking therapy...' I thought.

As a kid, I had therapy all the time. My step parents always thought there was something wrong with me; they were extremely bothered by me being different from others in my neighborhood and at school. I was quiet and not bothered by exclusion, but they were loud and outgoing. Ned rubbed the dried, flakey blood off his gloves and smiled. "Good news with your friend who saved you though! He's alive and very eager to know what condition you're in." I blinked in surprise. 'Jay...' The name rang in my head. I wheezed, "Can I see him?" Ned waved a finger in my face and chuckled, "In the condition you're in? Aha, if you're willing to hyperventilate while you're at it." I rubbed my eyes and laid back on the cot. My head was racing and my eyes swallowed back tears of frustration.

"Can he see me," I quivered. Ned nodded, "Sadly no. I hate to possibly worry you, but he suffers a worst condition. His smoking habits aren't doing him well." I grabbed my hair so hard I could feel a few strands break from my scalp; it stung but only for a moment, comparatively to the wretched pain in my chest tearing at me. "Is he gonna live?" Ned shook a finger to the air and exclaimed, "Actually, yes. Since you both suffer the same condition, I think it'll be convenient to do therapy with you both at once." I sighed, let out a throaty cough, then drew my hat over my eyes.