Revolution- Runaways 3 [EDITING]

Chapter 2: Luke

My heart hurt. There was no other way to put it. Even those words didn't do the pain justice. It was like I was shattering into millions of tiny pieces, and someone was trampling them beneath their feet. I was losing the man I'd loved for the past two and a half years.

I stroked his hair softly as I thumbed through Lord of the Flies by William Golding. His forehead was warm against my hand, even with the washcloth draped across it. It made me sick to think that there was no way to take away his pain. I wanted to get my mind off it, but his loud snores were filling my ears. They only enunciated the fact that he was going to die. Tomorrow.

I was grateful that Peyton was preoccupied with something on her bed because tears were threatening for at least the fifth time today. I wanted to explain to her what was going down in the next few days, but right now I didn't have the energy. Eli was in the shower anyway, so if I explained now then I would just have to repeat myself in a few minutes.

Marcus's eyes fluttered open. "Luke." His voice was raspy and barely audible. "Are they here?"

I nodded. "They just got here a few minutes ago. Eli's showering now, but Peyton's on the bed over there."

"Marcus?" she asked, turning toward us. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he answered. He tried to prop himself up, but his arms gave out. I assisted by setting him up against his pillows so that he didn't have to support himself. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," she stammered. "A broken ankle, nothing that won't pass—well, it's not like it's—I mean, it's just a broken ankle. It's not that bad." I could tell she was about to attempt to get up and come over here with us, but I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She grunted, glaring in response. I noticed that tears were brimming in her eyes too.

"I'm glad," he said. "Someone has to keep him together, and you can't do that very well if you don't have your wits about you." Peyton chuckled stiffly. I knew he was trying to make light of the situation, but Peyton and I stayed silent. He was taking his own death the best out of all of us. Neither of us were anywhere near ready to crack jokes yet.

She sighed. "I wish it didn't have to be like this. It's not fair." Her voice cracked on the last syllable.

"Peyton." He drew her name out, trying to sooth her. "It'll be okay. I promise. Whatever happens is going to happen, and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm just glad you're all still alive. Except Aaliyah of course, but she was kind of a bitch anyway." I didn't care how sick he was, he received a punch in the shoulder for that. "I was joking," he protested. "Come on now."

"I know, but none of us are in any mood to joke right now," I scolded. Just then, the bathroom lock clicked, and Eli stepped out. He shook his head like a dog, spraying me with water droplets. He looked so much better in his fresh outfit.

"Marcus," he started. "You're awake."

"Yeah. Not for long though."

"Oh, would you shut up and stop that for God's sakes!" I didn't mean to yell, but could he not see that he was making this harder on me? "We don't need to talk about that right now. Please, can we pretend it's not happening for a few minutes?"

He reached his hand out to take mine, tracing small circles with his thumb on my palm. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine," I mumbled. Eli was standing there looking at us, almost like he was trying to make a decision. A second later, he must have decided because he bent over and wrapped Marcus in an awkward hug. Marcus put his other hand on Eli's back. We stayed like that for several seconds, and I think it was awkward for all of us. It was rare to see three guys in one place showing that much emotion towards one another.