Survival Of The Fittest

"... Jacob?"

Jacob's head turned, going from staring listlessly at the ceiling to staring at the large, pale blur currently halfway coiled around him. Weeks later and he still hadn't entirely regained his vision; to his eyes Francis remained more an impression of Francis than the genuine article, even when they were so close. Salem had left his mark in that way. Jacob was probably never gonna quite see right again, and he certainly wasn't gonna walk right again either. At least the fucker had died, he supposed.

"Yeah, Francis?"

Francis pulled Jacob closer and hugged him a little tighter.

"... just making sure you're okay." His chin rested on the top of Jacob's head, burying Jacob's face into his bare chest. "You kinda drifted off again."

He wasn't surprised to hear that. He hadn't been asleep, he didn't think - or at the very least, he didn't remember falling sleep - but he also hadn't felt entirely here either. He wasn't having movie-style PTSD flashbacks or bad dreams or anything so dramatic, but a fog had continued hanging over everything regardless. Over his return home, over his (frosty) reunion with his parents, over his sister bawling like a kid and telling him how much she loved him.

"I'm alright," he lied. He couldn't see well enough to tell, but he got the sense Francis didn't believe him.

"... you can be honest if you're not." One of Francis's arms reached down and pulled the covers the both of them a little more fully. "You know that, right?"

He knew that. He just didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to admit needing this as badly as he did, how desperately he'd missed it, how badly it had hurt to think he'd never be here again. Even after everything he'd been through, he felt selfish, needy.

"Yeah, yeah, I... I know, Francis," he sighed. "I'm just... thinking, I guess."

'Thinking' was generous. It implied he'd been far more aware than he was. The truth of the matter was that a little bit of him was still back there, on the island, with whatever was left of the rest of them. Something had been left behind on that rocky shore as he climbed onto one of those boats, and it'd taken this long for him to realize it. Maybe when he woke up in that lab he was already just a little bit less-than, reduced, never to be entirely in the now ever again. Maybe Francis was currently just hugging a ghost. Maybe he'd never stop being the version of himself sprawled out on a rotting couch, bleeding from a gunshot wound with a gun of his own laying in his lap, sat across the room from the corpse of a kinda-sorta friend he'd ultimately fail to avenge and a quadruple-murderer of a girl he'd never see again.

But he did have to exist at least a little in the present. And he did have to think at least a little about the future. And maybe trodding back over that path again would get Francis to stop fretting over him.

"... you sure you aren't coming to Boston?"

Francis's chest swelled with a long, deep breath.

"You know I can't. Gotta finish high school and all that."

"Yeah, I know..."

Now it was Jacob's turn to hold Francis even tighter.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"... me too." The way his voice cracked, Jacob could tell Francis was crying, or on the verge of it at least. "I just got you back, I-I..."

Another deep breath, longer and harsher now. Guilt gnawed at Jacob's stomach for bringing it up. It wasn't an option for him to stay in Salem; his parents were no gentler upon his return, like he hadn't been gone at all. The town, and especially the school, was full of reminders of people who weren't here anymore. And every now and then he got the distinct sense of being stared at, regarded with pity or contempt or unease. Maybe it was paranoia talking - he was effectively legally-blind at this point so it wasn't like he was really seeing anyone do it - but it was cold comfort. Especially with how some of the other survivors had chosen to capitalize on their experience, drawing only more attention to the lot of them as a whole.

He needed to go. Monique had offered to let him move in once again, and this time Jacob had wholeheartedly accepted. Ultimately it was what he needed, he knew. Even if he couldn't bring Francis with him.

"Hey, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." His hand gently touched Francis's face. "It's just for a year, though, right?"

He heard Francis sniffle, could feel him trying to control his shaky breathing.

"Y-yeah." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that. "And we can still, like, talk online and stuff. And I can visit, maybe."

"Right," Jacob replied, smiling, "and it's not for another couple weeks anyway. So let's just... not worry about it. For now."

He returned to nuzzling his face into Francis's chest. Silence hung between them for a moment. Then Francis broke it.

"... I love you."

Jacob knew that, of course. Francis said that to him plenty beforehand. He'd said it back too, casually, not entirely certain how much he meant it.

"Yeah... I love you too."

But now, after what he'd gone through, it held extra weight. Now, when he said it, he could be certain he meant it. Maybe they eventually would drift apart after this. Maybe Jacob would prove too different, too distracted, too worn and exhausted to make it stick. Maybe he would ultimately find himself unable to dedicate to someone he rarely saw anymore, the distance not at all alleviated by online chats and phonecalls. Maybe one of them would find someone else, or find a lot of someone else's. Maybe they'd both have to have a long talk about how this wasn't working anymore, or maybe one of them would just send a text and never speak to the other again. Any number of things could happen between then and now. But for now, Francis loved him, and he loved him right back. He figured that was enough.