log; ongoing;

[thatsourswitch.livejournal.com]

When; May 31st, morning
Rating; PG-13 for blood?
Characters; Bossun [sketdanchou], Switch [thatsourswitch]
Summary; Switch relives the day that drove him to his laptop. [WARNING: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 43]
Log;

Staying up until midnight was never a problem for Switch. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd managed to get to bed at a normal hour, and the City certainly hadn't helped his sleeping pattern at all. If anything, Switch had to keep an even closer eye on the Network than he ever had on 2ch, in order to keep track of curses, of the wellbeing of those he cared for. Midnight was a good checkpoint to keep to; curses seemed to take hold then, and usually, if nothing happened within the first few minutes, it was an indication that Switch could relax. Maybe even sleep.

It felt like watching an episode of Jigoku Shoujo every night, waiting for the clock to point to twelve before refreshing the Hells Correspondence website.

Switch breathed an initial sigh of relief as he saw his laptop blink to 00:00-- another day, it seemed, without major cause for concern. No apocalypse, and Bossun was still snoring his kitty-like snores on the bed.

Until a sudden searing pain tore into his chest, Switch's hands immediately grabbing at his shirt, eyes widening as he noticed a familiar coppery smell and crimson color sliding down his fingers. A difficulty in breathing meant-- collapsed lung, perhaps?

Switch couldn't think that far.

Immediately, he doubled over, coughing blood into his hands, his breathing sounding like a labored wheeze.

Not again.

Comments

[sketdanchou.livejournal.com]

It was the blood that woke him, this smell that he couldn't describe if he tried but just alarmed his instincts as he fell off the bed half-waking. It was half a second before his mind recognized what was happening; Switch bent over his computer was a familiar enough sight. But his breathing, labored and thick like the sounds of drowning and the mechanical rasp echoing from Switch's laptop woke Bossun completely.

In the darkness it was hard to distinguish the blood at first, enough that he'd nearly soaked his hands with it as he grabbed at Switch before he realized finally fully how bad it was. Panic crashed into him, kept him holding his breath until his chest hurt, some stupid thought the only thing running in his mind. No. over and over again. He couldn't breathe, wouldn't breathe with the scent of Switch's blood has him near to drowning, keep it in, hold it in, as if somehow this would keep Switch's life from spilling away.

"SWITCH! SWITCH!"

[thatsourswitch.livejournal.com]

The sudden movement did almost nothing to add to the pain, simply jostled Switch around as he felt his laptop slide off his thighs and onto the floor, where it landed--probably, at least, although Switch wasn't paying the closest of attention--with a resounding crash. Freed from worrying about the computer, Switch's hands moved to his chest, where they immediately pressed against the wound, trying to stall the flow of blood. Someone was here, someone would help, Switch would be alright, he reminded himself. He survived last time, didn't he?

Was it just him, or what someone calling out his name?

With some effort, Switch slowly opened his eyes, squinting with the pain, until a sudden jolting realization hit him the gut, perhaps with more force than the wound had itself.

"Bossun..."

His words were almost indistinguishable; raspy, they left little room for his actual voice. But the panic in his eyes was very real, panic mixed with a slight tinge of relief. Bossun was here, the one who essentially meant the most to Switch was here, but to see this?

This wasn't for Bossun to see. This was Switch's own problem, and he shouldn't have dragged anyone else into it.