As Long As You're Alive

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Todd was sleeping the night when Neil shot himself.

Charlie had never once been gentle in shaking someone awake, but he made an exception in alerting Todd. 

It hardly softened the blow.

"Todd?" 

Todd murmured something in response. He was still half-asleep, and upon seeing Charlie assumed it was a prank. His unfocused eyes didn't pick up on the tears running down his face.

He went to roll over, but was stopped by Charlie's hand. "Todd, wake up," he whimpered.

This caught his attention. Todd rubbed sleep out of his eyes, finally noticing the other poets lingering at the door, each with a different but startling expression.

"What is it?" he breathed, staring at Charlie's hollow face.

"Neil shot himself."

His first reaction was to freeze. But after a half-second, he shook his head.

"No," Todd denied. "No, he didn't."

"Todd-"

"Don't say that Nuwanda, that's not funny."

Knox stepped forward. "Todd, it's true."

"Stop it, Knox! It's not fucking funny," Todd lashed out. He was starting to blubber, choking on the tears. "He didn't do that, Neil wouldn't do that."

He turned back to Charlie, who looked at him in distress.

"Tell me the truth, Charlie," he breathed. "Please. He wouldn't."

Charlie only responded by pulling Todd into a hug, letting Todd cry into his shoulder. They sat there for a long while, Todd repeating the same words in a quiet, tearful way.

"He wouldn't leave us."



Todd stared down at Neil's lifeless body. 

Bandages covered most of his face, but the gauze wasn't holding up, and blood leaked through the layers of cotton. 

In fact, blood was most places. On the pillow, absorbing whatever was left on Neil's hair. On the bedrail; Todd imagined Mrs. Perry gripping it tightly, the red on her hands staining the thing. Little specks of crimson surrounded Neil, but crimson was better than grey matter.

Grey matter is what they call it when a brain is anywhere but your skull. Todd remembered the fact from one of Neil's medical textbooks. They weren't required for their advanced biology class, but Mr. Perry wanted Neil to get ahead, to be a doctor. If emergency services see grey matter on the ground, they don't attempt resuscitation. The patient is already brain-dead.

"The bullet was angled perfectly wrong," the doctor said. 

The doctor said a lot of other things, but Todd tuned out most of it. He stared down at Neil on the hospital bed, connected to a billion wires that monitored all sorts of things.

"It missed many major areas of the brain."

The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the only indication of life. His skin was pale and chalky, and even his dark eyelashes didn't flutter the way they normally did in his sleep.

He looked dead. Not peaceful, just dead.

"Normally, we'd discourage visitors, but in a scenario like this...talking to him might be the best thing to do. We've done all we can for the time being, but we have to wait for him to wake up before we can determine the extent of his injuries."

They said he was lucky to be alive.

There were signs of brain activity, both pupils were reactive, whatever that meant. Todd was grateful for Neil's stupid reactive pupils; it was the only thing stopping them from taking him off life support.

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