An orange prescription bottle sat on the table. Picking it up, I inspected the medication name. Sumatriptan. I didn’t recognize it. Sliding my phone from my pocket, I quickly Googled it, finding out it was a migraine medication. My heart squeezed in my chest as I looked back at Jaxon.
The game had clearly been too much for him to deal with. Between the screaming fans and the bands playing, it’d done him in. It was probably a miracle he even made it home safely.
Leaving him be, I just grabbed one of the throw blankets off the back of the couch and covered him with it before grabbing one of the fans. Once I’d plugged it in, I turned it to blow on him, knowing the cooler air always helped ease his pain a bit and make him a little more comfortable.
I was just stepping out of the shower when the bathroom door slammed open. Jaxon dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and promptly threw up. Cursing, I dropped down beside him, my chest tightening when he sobbed, reaching up to cradle his head all while he continued to retch. I hated that this happened to him. Hated that he would be dealing with this for years, if not the rest of his life. And I absolutely fucking detested that I couldn’t take his pain away.
“It hurts,” Jaxon croaked once he managed to stop heaving. His shoulders shook, and a sob escaped his no-doubt sore throat. “I hate this.”
I was naked as fuck, but that didn’t stop me from pulling him against me and holding him. And for the first time in the seventeen years we’d been friends, I witnessed my best friend cry. Like full on crying, sobs, snot, and all the other works. He curled into me, breaking apart and splintering into pieces, leaving me to cradle all his shards in my hands. I bled everywhere, my heart splintering into pieces with him, lacerations blooming across my skin, but I still never let him go.
Because I’d bleed for him. I’d hurt for him. I’d fucking suffer for him.
“It’s okay,” I soothed, my hand running over his hair. “Just let it out, Jax. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
“I’m so tired,” he croaked. “I hate this. I keep forgetting shit. I can’t go more than two days without a migraine. School is fucking difficult now. And I can’t even play football anymore. I can barely manage to watch a whole fucking game without excruciating pain, Blaze.” He sobbed, his whole body shaking with the force of it.
“I know,” I said quietly. “I hate it just as much as you do.”
He didn’t say anything else for a long time, so I didn’t either. But eventually, he whispered, “Some days, Blaze, I don’t want to be alive anymore.”
And that? That goddamn confession whispered with so much truth?
That shattered my entire fucking existence.
Chapter 5
Blaze
Some days, Blaze, I don’t want to be alive anymore.
His words, that fucking confession, wouldn’t stop playing on repeat in my head. Jaxon’s words haunted me, making it impossible to sleep that night. And whenever I did manage to doze off, I had nightmares of finding Jaxon dead, having killed himself and given up on life. Left me. The pain was so fucking visceral, I could barely breathe every time I woke up. Felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and crushing my ribs. I’d never had panic attacks before, but I was becoming intimately familiar with them fast.
Jaxon had left me a text to see when I woke up the next morning for practice, telling me he was grabbing breakfast and going to be doing some research for his finals paper in the library. I couldn’t stop worrying about him. Was he okay after finally opening up to me about how he was feeling last night? Did he still have a migraine? If not, was it still a headache? Had he managed to hold down his food if he was in pain?
I grunted when a body smacked into mine, forcing me to the turf. I rolled over, blinking up at the gray sky. The weather was threatening a storm after the beautiful weather we’d had the day before, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
“What the fuck is up with you?” Hunter snapped, holding his hand out to help me up. “Where’s your head? Because it’s not here on the field with the rest of us, bro.”
I wrapped my fingers around his palm, allowing him to pull me up from the ground. I didn’t get to answer him before Coach called practice just as lightning streaked across the sky. Silently, I turned and headed into the locker rooms. I was stripping off my gear when Hunter appeared at my side once more, his dark eyes intense on the side of my face. “What the fuck is going on, Blaze?”
Sighing, I dropped onto the bench, then leaned forward, spearing my fingers through my sweaty hair. Hunter silently sat beside me. Our other teammates continued stripping and heading for the showers, talking shit to each other like we always usually did after practice. But I couldn’t find it within me to even fake a smile or cheeriness, much less join in on the banter like I normally did.
How the fuck did Jaxon do this day in and day out when he didn’t even feel like being alive any longer?
“Jaxon told me he wishes he wasn’t alive some days,” I said quietly.
Hunter froze beside me, and when I turned to look at him, his face had paled. “When did he tell you this?” he asked, his voice low.
Leaning backward, I let my back rest against the locker I had yet to open to begin putting my gear away. “Last night. He had a migraine, which he’s been put on a new medication for, apparently. But it made him sick, and he came into the bathroom while I was showering. And he just… broke down afterward.” I stopped, swallowing thickly.
“Broke down?” Hunter asked, wanting clarification.
I nodded. “I’m talking tears, snot, the whole nine yards, Hunter.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Said he was tired. Basically that he was tired of what’d happened to him and his new life because of it. And he told me, some days, Blaze, I don’t want to be alive anymore.” I looked at Hunter, my heart in my throat. “Those words are fucking haunting me, Hunter. I can’t sleep. Can’t focus. I’m terrified of losing him.”
Hunter leaned back as well, then shook his head and got up almost immediately after. He opened up his locker, then pulled his phone out. After a moment, he raised his phone to his ear. “Hey, babe,” he greeted, his voice still low. “I know you’re sleeping. I’m sorry.” I winced. He’d called Samuel—Samuel who woke up stupid early Monday through Saturday, worked late, and hardly ever got to rest. “I need you to meet me and Blaze at…” He looked at me. “Is Jaxon home?”
Shrugging, I stood as well and opened up my own locker, grabbing my phone off the shelf. After a check of Life360, I nodded at Hunter, showing him my app. “Meet me at Blaze and Jaxon’s. Let me shower and get dressed, then I’ll call you on my way over there and explain.” He blew out a soft breath. “I’m fine, babe. I promise.” He nodded, though Samuel couldn’t see him. “I will. Love you, too.”
