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Dying hurts.
Man, does it hurt. Man. It feels like his stomach’s been torn open, like more than his stomach's been torn open, like he's been ripped straight down the middle and all his insides are one breath away from spilling all over the floor like the candy they stuff in piñatas when the bat finally cracks it open. But he'd bet money his guts won't be half as fun. Nobody will be smiling. Well, maybe Swansea. No more useless interns, ha-ha. He always said he'd be faster without Daisuke slowing him down, asking all his questions.
Ha-ha. That isn't nice, no. Swansea won't be happy. He's not happy now. Daisuke can see him now out of the corner of his eye, shouting at Jimmy. There's tears, maybe, but that could just be Daisuke’s own tears blurring his vision, and everything's swirling together anyway, so maybe it doesn't matter. He can't tell what they're saying. It's all just noise. He wants to tell them to calm down, because it's not really Jimmy’s fault, Daisuke was the one who messed up, he's the one who fell, he’s the one who went into the vent even though Swansea said not to, Captain Jimmy is just doing his job. They just need to call Anya, Anya can–
No, she can't. She’s–
Someone's crying. It might be him. He can't really tell. His lungs hurt almost as much as his stomach does. Everything feels wet and moving.
He hopes Swansea isn’t mad at him. He tries to say that he’s sorry, but it comes out a groan, unintelligible. Or maybe it doesn’t. He can’t hear himself over the roaring of his own heartbeat in his ears. The boss. This is gonna look so bad on his resume when they get back home.
When they–if they–
He wants to tell them to go check on Anya. Open the door, see if she's alright. She looked so scary. He feels bad for thinking that, but it's true. Vomit and blood and her head back against the bed, and Captai–and Curly, groaning and writhing and making these horrible sounds, and that's really all he saw because he's not so observant, his teachers always told him that, he's not so bright, and his hand had slipped, and he fell but the metal wasn't quite together and he'd caught and–
His stomach hurts so bad. He groans. Jimmy is gone now. Swansea is looking at him. He's so scared. He's so scared.
I don't want to die, he wants to say, but he just makes such a strangled, gross sound. Blood in his throat, thick. It's on his lips. Swansea snaps at him not to talk, and Swansea is gone, too.
And Daisuke is alone.
God–he’s not supposed to think that-that's sort of blasphemy, isn't it? Or maybe not, given the circumstances–he doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to die by himself.
His guts are swirling. He can feel them. He's never been aware of his own insides before; he's crying again. It's like, like–
He never had a piñata at a birthday party. Always wanted one. It's kind of stupid, maybe, but he saw it in the movies, and he was like, yeah, that's going to be me. Beating the shit out of some brightly colored things and raining down candy. And mom’ll be cheering, and dad’ll be there, and he’ll be turning ten with the biggest smile in the world, except all his birthdays were really pretty small affairs, a few friends, a big house. No piñatas. His mom said they were a waste of money. Dad said listen to your mother, Daisuke, don't pout, nobody likes a complainer. His thoughts are getting hard to hold onto. He tries to hold onto that, to his mom’s voice, her face, and it's gone, and his thoughts are shifting like water.
Man. Man, oh, man. He wishes they didn't leave. He wishes he could say goodbye to his mom. He misses her. She’s going to be so worried. She’s all alone, now, if he doesn’t come back, she’ll be so–
Someone's yelling. He can't tell if it's Jimmy or Swansea. Everything's mush.
He's cold. He wishes they left him with a blanket. It doesn't hurt so bad anymore, though. He can't stop crying, but it doesn't hurt so bad. Can’t feel it so much. Maybe that's good. He should tell Swansea and Captain Jimmy not to worry. Daisuke’s going to be a-okay.
Daisuke’s going to be…
...
They're back. His vision is swimming. Swansea’s talking.
“Hey, kid? Can you hear me?”
Daisuke tries to answer, tries to tell him it's okay, but he can't. A ragged groan escapes his lips.
“Daisuke?”
He coughs. Tries to keep his eyes open, but everything's so blurry that he can't tell what he's seeing anymore. Swansea’s there, over him, he's holding something but Daisuke can't tell what. Something to help, maybe. One of Anya’s things. Medicine. Help.
He's talking. Daisuke tries so hard to listen, but the words get tangled in his head. Swansea always gets mad when he doesn't listen, but he's trying, he's really trying, this isn't like when he spaces out, he's really trying. Everything feels so heavy. He's scared. I'm okay , he tries to think, but even that's hard, I'm okay.
Jimmy yells. Daisuke wishes he would shut up. That's not nice. That's your captain, Daisuke . Show some respect. Curly is… Or, Jimmy, he doesn't…
“Close your eyes, Daisuke.” Swansea. Raising something up. His voice sounds thick in the way it gets when he's emotional but he doesn't want them to know. Like when he talks about his daughter, or his wife, or after Anya told him that secret Daisuke wasn't allowed to know.
They're fixing it. They're going to fix it. Jimmy said…
Daisuke closes his eyes. He thinks I'm okay, The boss knows what to do. He always knows what to do. He–
And then he thinks nothing at all.