--: Author's POV: --
The morning didn't arrive with a sunrise; it arrived like a slow, agonizing bleed of grey light through the London fog. It crept through the gaps in the heavy curtains, turning the room into a ghostly landscape of washed-out blues and shadows.
Inside the bedroom, the air was stagnant, heavy with the metallic tang of Jay-Jay's fever and the salt of dried tears. The three figures on the bed hadn't moved since the middle of the night. They were tangled together like survivors of a shipwreck who had finally washed ashore, terrified that the next wave would pull them back into the deep.
Jay-Jay's eyes had been open for hours. She had spent the dawn watching the dust motes dance in the dim light, her brain a chaotic blur of Keifer's smile and the sound of rain on a mahogany box. Her body was a furnace, her skin felt like it was shrinking against her bones, and every heartbeat was a dull *thud* against her skull.
But then, she felt the bed shift.
Keigan was stirring. Beside her, Keiran's grip on her waist tightened as he began to drift out of his nightmare-filled sleep.
The mask had to go back on. Right now.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
The light was hitting the floorboards, and my heart started to race with a frantic, sickening dread.
*Morning.* The first morning in a world where he doesn't exist.
I felt Keigan's hand—still locked in mine—give a small, hesitant squeeze. He was checking. He was waiting to see if I was still there. I could feel him sitting up slowly, his movements stiff, his eyes searching my face for the wreckage of the night.
I couldn't let him see it. If he saw how much I was shaking, if he saw that I hadn't slept a single second, he would crumble. And if he crumbled, Keiran would follow.
I forced my eyes to close for a moment, taking a shallow, burning breath. I swallowed the bile in my throat and forced my facial muscles to relax into something that looked like "peace."
Then, I blinked my eyes open slowly, as if the light were just now waking me up.
"Ate?" Keigan's voice was a rough, broken rasp.
I turned my head toward him, forcing a small, tired smile that felt like it was tearing my skin apart. "Hey..." I whispered. My voice was scratchy, but I made sure it didn't tremble.
"Did you sleep?" he asked, his eyes scanning mine with a desperate intensity. He was looking for the cracks.
"Yeah," I lied. It was the heaviest lie I had ever told. "I just woke up. The... the rain woke me up."
--: Author's POV: --
Keigan stared at her for a long beat. He saw the flush on her cheeks and the glassiness of her eyes, but Jay-Jay met his gaze with a steady, quiet focus that didn't waver. She looked like she had found a small pocket of calm in the darkness, and for Keigan, it was the only thing keeping him from falling back into the abyss.
He let out a long, shuddering breath, his shoulders dropping just an inch. He believed her because he needed to believe her.
"Keiran is still out," Keigan whispered, looking down at his little brother. "I don't... I don't know how to tell him it's officially the next day. That yesterday wasn't a dream."
Jay-Jay reached over, her hand hot but steady as she squeezed Keigan's arm. She didn't give him a speech; she just gave him a solid presence. "We'll go down together. One step at a time. Let's just get through the next hour."
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
I pushed myself into a sitting position. The world tilted violently. A wave of nausea rolled over me, and for a second, the room went pitch black. I gripped the headboard so hard my fingernails bit into the wood, forcing my brain to stay upright.
*Don't fall. Not now. Not in front of them.*
"Are you okay?" Keigan asked, reaching out to steady my shoulder. His touch was like ice against my burning skin.
"Just a bit of a headache," I said, dismissively waving him off as I sat Keiran up gently. "The fever is just being stubborn. It'll go away once I move around."
Keiran opened his eyes then. They were red-rimmed and swollen. He looked at me, then at Keigan, and then at the empty side of the room. The realization hit him like a physical blow, his small face twisting in immediate pain.
"Ate Jay... Kuya..."
"I've got you, Keiran," I said, pulling him into a hug. My body was screaming, every nerve ending firing in pain, but I held him with a grip that felt like stone. "Let's go wash up. The others are waiting. We have to be there for each other today."
--: Author's POV: --
Keigan watched her. He saw the way she stood up, her legs trembling almost imperceptibly under the oversized sweater. He saw the way she held Keiran's hand, guiding him toward the bathroom with a quiet, fragile grace.
He didn't see the way her knuckles were white. He didn't see the way she bit the inside of her cheek until it bled just to stay focused.
He only saw a sister. He only saw the girl Keifer trusted to be the heart of this family.
As the three of them moved toward the door, Jay-Jay caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a ghost—pale, hollow-eyed, and burning from the inside out. But she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and stepped out into the hallway.
She was walking into a house full of mourning, carrying the weight of two brothers on her back while her own heart was a pile of ash.
"I'm doing it, Keifer," she thought, the hallway blurring for a second. "I'm lying to them. I'm pretending. But God... please... give me just one more hour of strength. Just one more hour before I burn down."
The London fog stayed thick outside, but in the hallway of the estate, Jay-Jay kept moving. And as long as she was standing, the boys had something to hold onto.
--: Keigan's POV: --
I didn't move. I didn't even want to breathe.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the grey light creeping across the floorboards. My hand was still locked with Jay-Jay's. Her skin was so hot it felt like it was melting into mine, but she was still. Too still.
I knew she was awake. I had known it for hours.
I had felt her body shuddering in the middle of the night when she thought I was deep enough in sleep not to notice. I had heard the way her breath hitched every time the wind hit the window. But now, as the room got brighter, I felt her change.
I felt the exact moment she "turned on."
It was like watching a dying fire suddenly flare up one last time. She squeezed my hand, her grip desperate and bone-deep, and when she opened her eyes, she didn't look like the girl who had been crying in the dark.
"Hey..." she whispered.
She smiled at me. It was a small, tired thing—a ghost of a smile—but it was there.
"Did you sleep?" I asked her. My voice was a wreck, barely more than a scratch in the silence. I was looking for the truth. I was looking for the cracks in her eyes, the redness, the exhaustion.
"Yeah," she lied.
She looked me straight in the face and told the biggest lie in the world. I could see the glassiness in her gaze, the way her pupils were blown wide from the fever, and the faint tremor in her bottom lip that she was trying so hard to bite down.
She was drowning. I could see it. She was standing in the middle of a literal furnace, her body giving out, her heart probably in a thousand pieces—but she was smiling for me.
She was doing it for Keiran, for me. She was doing it so I wouldn't have to be the one to carry everything.
I stared at her, my throat tightening until I couldn't swallow. I wanted to tell her to stop. I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to play the hero, that she could just collapse and I would catch her.
But as I watched her push herself up, I realized the terrifying truth.
I *couldn't* catch her. If she fell, I was going down with her. If that wall she was building around us crumbled, there would be nothing left of me or Keiran to pick up. We were both leaning on a girl who was currently turning into ash, and I was too weak, too broken by the sight of that empty space in the room, to tell her to stop.
She was barely holding herself up, her fingers digging into the headboard so hard the wood groaned, but she was acting like a shield for me and my brother.
"I see what you're doing, Ate," I thought, my chest aching with a respect that felt like a blade. "I see you burning up just to keep us warm. I see the lie, and I'm letting you tell it. Because without it... I don't think I can even stand up."
"I've got you, Keiran," she whispered to my little brother, pulling him into her heat.
She stood up, her legs looking like they might snap under the weight of the air alone, but she didn't fall. She held Keiran's hand and led him toward the door, her back straight and her head held high.
She looked like a ghost, but she was walking like the only thing keeping the world from ending.
I stood up and followed her, my own legs heavy as lead. I kept my eyes on her back, watching the way she moved. I knew she was reaching her limit. I knew the fire was consuming her. But I just followed, silent and useless, watching her burn so that I didn't have to.
--: Author's POV: --
The three of them walked out into the hallway, a tiny, broken line of survivors.
Jay-Jay led the way, her hand in Keiran's, her presence the only thing keeping the silence of the house from swallowing them. She was the strength they didn't have, the light they thought they had lost.
And behind her, Keigan watched every step she took. He saw the tremble in her shoulders. He saw the way she leaned almost invisibly against the wall for a split second. He knew she was dying inside, but he didn't stop her. He couldn't.
The London fog was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, but for now, Jay-Jay kept walking. And as long as she moved, the Watson brothers moved with her.
———
The kitchen of the London estate was filled with a hollow, rhythmic clinking of silverware that only made the silence feel louder.
Section E stood around the perimeter, watching the center table like it was a sacred, fragile site. Jay-Jay stood behind Keiran, her hands resting on his shoulders. She looked like a statue carved from salt—pale, crystalline, and ready to dissolve at the slightest touch.
A plate of eggs and toast sat in front of the two brothers. Neither of them had picked up a fork. They were staring at the steam rising from the food as if it were a foreign object.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
My vision was swimming in shades of red and grey. The smell of the food made my stomach churn with the fever, but I didn't move. I couldn't.
"Eat," I said. My voice was a dry rasp, but I kept it firm. "Keigan, Keiran... you need your strength. Eat."
Keigan looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. "I'm not hungry, Ate."
"I didn't ask if you were hungry," I replied, my fingers tightening on Keiran's shoulders. "I told you to eat. Do you think he'd want to see you like this? Fading away because you're too stubborn to take a bite?"
I felt Keiran move under my hands. He picked up his spoon, his small hand trembling. He scooped up a bit of food, but instead of bringing it to his own mouth, he turned around in his chair.
He looked up at me, his eyes huge and swimming with tears.
"Ate Jay... you have to eat too," he whispered.
"I'll eat later, Keiran. Just—"
"No." He held the spoon up to my lips, his expression a mix of desperation and love that hit me harder than any fever. "Please. Eat with us. If you don't eat, I won't. Please, Ate... don't leave us alone in this."
--: Author's POV: --
The room held its breath. Keigan watched them, his jaw tightening as he saw the flicker of sheer exhaustion in Jay-Jay's eyes.
Jay-Jay looked at the spoon, then at the small boy who was clinging to her as his last hope. She couldn't say no. Slowly, painfully, she leaned down and took the bite. It felt like swallowing stones, but she forced it down. She sat on the edge of a chair, and for the next ten minutes, they ate—a mechanical, heartbreaking meal where Keiran made sure she took a bite for every two he took.
She was feeding them life, and they were trying to keep her from burning out.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
As soon as the plates were pushed away, a shadow fell over the table.
Aries was standing there. He didn't have his usual smirk or his playful eyes. He was holding two white pills and a glass of water.
"Medicine. Now," he said.
"I'm fine, Aries. I told you, it's just—"
"I don't care what you told me," Aries interrupted, his voice low and unusually stern. He set the glass down with a definitive *clack*. "You're radiating heat like a furnace. Take the medicine, Jay-Jay, or I'm calling a doctor to this house, and I don't think you want that kind of attention right now."
I stared at him, my "Boss" glare failing me because my eyelids were too heavy to hold the look. I looked at Keigan, who was watching me with a silent, haunting intensity.
I took the pills. I swallowed the water. I stood back up before anyone could offer me a hand, because I knew if I let them help me, the lie would end.
--: Author's POV: --
The day was a marathon of ghosts.
Jay-Jay remained a pillar. She moved through the estate like a ghost herself, answering questions from the F4, checking on the members of Section E, and never once letting Keigan or Keiran out of her sight. She was the one who decided where things went, who spoke when the lawyers called, and who kept the silence from becoming a scream.
To the Pack, she looked invincible. To Keigan, she looked like a martyr.
But as night fell again, and the London fog turned into a black shroud, the fire finally reached the marrow.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
The hallway was dark.
I had finally gotten them back to the room. I had watched Keiran drift off, and I had seen Keigan's eyes close in a shallow, restless sleep. I had done it. I had survived the first full day.
I turned away from the bed, intending to walk toward the window, but my legs didn't follow the command.
Suddenly, the floor wasn't there. The walls tilted at a sickening angle, and the grey light of the hallway turned into a blinding white flash. The "Wall" didn't just crack—it vanished.
The last thing I felt was the coldness of the floorboards against my burning cheek.
--: Keigan's POV: --
The sound wasn't loud. Just a dull, heavy *thud*.
I was awake before she even hit the ground. My heart stopped as I scrambled out of the bed, my eyes landing on the crumpled form of Jay-Jay near the door. She was out. Her body was limp, her face a terrifying shade of white, and the heat coming off her was like an oven.
I reached her in two strides, pulling her into my arms. She felt like ash.
"Ate Jay? Jay-Jay, wake up!" I hissed, my voice cracking with a terror I had been hiding all day.
She didn't move. She had given everything. She had burnt every ounce of herself to keep us standing, and now, there was nothing left but the wreckage.
"Kuya Aries! Kuya Angelo!" I screamed into the hallway, my voice echoing through the silent, mourning house. "Help! She's not breathing right! HELP!"
I looked down at her face, her eyes closed, finally forced into the peace she refused to give herself.
"I saw you, Ate," I thought, hot tears finally blurring my vision as I held her head against my chest. "I saw what you were doing. And... I'm so sorry we let you do it alone."