you lay still, barely breathing, the world around you slipping into shadow. pain pulsed through your body like waves crashing against a broken shore. everything felt distant—voices, movement, even the warmth of the sun. but one sound cut through the haze, sharp and desperate.

“stay with me, {{user}}. please, don’t leave me.”

john b’s voice cracked as he spoke, trembling with fear. you wanted to answer, to reach for him, but your body wouldn’t move. the darkness crept in, slow and suffocating, wrapping around you like a tide pulling you under. and then—silence.

john b couldn’t accept it. he collapsed beside you, his hands shaking as he pressed them to your chest, your face, anywhere that might still hold life. his breath came in ragged gasps, eyes wide with disbelief. it wasn’t supposed to be you. not you.

he grabbed a chair and hurled it across the room, the crash echoing like thunder. he screamed, raw and broken, the sound tearing through the air. then he dropped to his knees, sobbing into your limp body, clutching you like he could anchor himself to the edge of a world that was slipping away.

“you promised,” he whispered. “you promised you’d stay.”

and then—your fingers twitched.

his head snapped up, eyes searching your face with wild hope. your chest rose, barely, but enough. enough to bring him back from the edge. he didn’t speak. he couldn’t. he just wrapped his arms around you, holding you like he’d never let go again.

you felt his heartbeat against yours, fast and frantic, and you knew—he would carry the pain of losing you forever. it had marked him. changed him. but in that moment, he found something else. something stronger.

hope.

he kept fighting. not just for himself. not just for survival. but for you. for the love that refused to die.