Ten minutes left. Kenneth's eyes skipped around the room as the cleaning bots carried out the tray of food he'd failed to eat. He looked down at his side, thankful they'd disconnected the feeding tube at his promise to eat real food. Hunching forward, he peeked up at the clock again. Only ten seconds had passed.

I can do this. I can do this. His eye threatened to skirt to the safe where the headset was, but he kept them forward on the clock, watching the seconds tick down one by one. Maybe I should just slip it out and see about getting on the game. Why am I even thinking of taking it with me anyway?

He peered down at his hands and closed his eyes. No, I'm gonna leave it here. It can't save me, nothing can.

Clenching his hands into fists he inhaled and exhaled. The oxygen clicked and Kenneth tried not to think of the stabbing pain inside of his chest. He peeked back at the monitors. Will I even be able to make it without the oxygen? Maybe I don't need to make it to the bridge, maybe I just need to get out from under their eyes and let the disease do the rest.

His skin crawled at the idea. He shivered and hugged himself as cold oxygen coursed through his veins and down into his lungs. He exhaled slowly. Don't think too hard about it. It won't take long. Getting out is the hardest part, then I can rest. He dipped his head between his knees for a moment. When he lifted his head and peeked up at the clock the lights in the room dimmed and went out. Right on schedule.

10 pm. Kenneth tried not to make eye contact with whatever camera might be watching him as he reached over and grabbed at the small portable oxygen and IV machine beside the bed. He unhooked the long plastic lines and rehooked them into the small box. The bots did this every time, and he'd done it a few times before, but he found the movements harder with the cold shaking of his hands. Still, he got them connected and he picked up the box. His other hand found the plastic bag he'd requested earlier and he hugged both to his chest. Slowly, he put both feet on the floor.

His eyes lifted to the empty chairs and he was silently thankful she hadn't tried to come in and wish him a good night. I ran away once, I can do this again. He rose, gripping the edge of the bed for support. The floor was frigid. He shifted across the floor and then paused, his eyes lifting to the safe. Could they see him? Heck, who cared if they did. His eyes fixed on the buttons. One last look, at the only world that accepted me. That's all I want. So I don't have to face the darkness.

He reached up. The keys were like ice under these fingers as he pressed each button and repeated the code he'd seen earlier. Two-Nine-One-Two. The light flashed green and the safe popped open. Kenneth reached inside. He grabbed the plastic headset out before he could stop himself and clutched it to his chest as he closed the safe again. It locked and he shuffled off towards the bathroom. On reaching it, he sank down and sat on the floor shivering. Air rushed in and out of the respirator faster, his heartbeat pounding like sore drums inside his chest. He inhaled slowly and exhaled, then he unfolded himself from his curled up position and dropped the plastic bag the headset to the floor. They crunched and clattered with deafening sounds. Kenneth held his breath and finally released it when his chest began to ache. With tremblings fingers, he got the bag open and pulled out his clothes. They'd been too big when they found him, so here was hoping they fit now.

Carefully, he dressed. The pants were still too big and the shirt swallowed him, but at least the shoes were about the right size. He got the clothing adjusted to fit as best it would, though, and then stuffed his hospital gown in the bag. He paused and put a hand to the wall, taking long deep breaths from the respirator. His eyes fell to the box. The moment of truth.

Scooping it up, he turned it off. The oxygen stopped and then the IV and he felt the pressure in the lines go lax. He pulled off the respirator and took a deep inhale of the normal air around him. His stomach tightened and he tried not to gag at the stale smell. Closing his eyes for a brief moment he waited until the feeling passed, then he cracked his eyes and looked at the IV.

I can do this. One little tug. He gripped the line. His hand curled into a fist and he looked away. With a sharp jerk he pulled it from his arm. It stung at first, then settled into a spreading throb. Kenneth grabbed his arm and grit his teeth. He pulled several paper towels from the dispenser and pressed them against the crook of his arm until the bleeding slowed enough and his head stopped spinning. He tossed them in the trash and left the lines on the floor. He grabbed up the headset and then reached for the door knob.

Keeping his lips closed to clamp down on the sound of his rasping, he pushed the bathroom door open and moved back into the room. His legs quivered with each step but he kept going across the small space to the door of the room itself. His fingers found the cold knob and turned it. He pressed it open and peeked out. The hall lights were dimmed as well but still on. A few bots wandered around but none seemed to see the open door. He slipped out of the room and put his back to them, facing down the empty hallway. There, the emergency stairs. He heard the door to his room click and almost jumped. His chest tightened painfully, but Kenneth kept moving. He did his best to stay stiff and upright as he tried not to draw attention to himself. A few people--two kids and a young woman--came out of another room. Kenneth watched them head back the other way and he hesitated himself. If I go out the emergency exit, won't the alarm sound? I'm dressed, I'm not wearing hospital gear. He peeked down at his wrist. His shirt covered the ID.

The family passed him. Follow them. He inhaled and did a small about-face. Keeping his head down, he fell in step several paces behind the little family. They headed out past the bots at the front. Kenneth held his breath. His chest ached and burned but he kept his mouth closed and only inhaled shakily through his nose.

It hurts. Just a little longer. I'm on the first floor. The family passed the receptionist bots. Kenneth followed.

They walked through the lobby. His eyes darted around with his head down. Not a single bot stopped him. He spotted a dark-haired olive-skinned woman and almost paused but then he saw her husband--he assumed the man was her husband--and realized it wasn't his mother. A small wheezed sigh of relief escaped his lips.

The doors opened at the front. Kenneth peered up at them as he finally stepped through. The fluorescent lighting changed to the dim stars arcing over the city. His breath blew a small cloud into the thin cold air and he shivered. He clutched the headset to his chest and kept walking.

I'm out. I made it. The hard part is over.

His eyes remained on the stars as he crossed the sidewalk, his feet taking him down familiar paths towards the middle of the city again. He cut away from the parking lot and into the shadows of the buildings, struggling to inhale the night air.

I can do this. I'll be free. A chill wracked his body and he finally put his head down to cough. Pausing just behind the main wing, he pressed the headset into his chest as he hacked into the thin air. Pain clawed at his lungs and he struggled forward a few steps to put a hand to the wall. No, not yet. Keep going.

He forced out a few more coughing breaths and finally got in a decent breath. His legs wobbled but he set his jaw and kept moving. Two blocks to the bridge. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, wandering away from the hospital grounds and into the maze of buildings beyond.

The air was quiet and yet sounds of animals and people still pervaded inside the dark alleys as Kenneth wandered through them. He kept a hand out and occasionally stopped to cough, starting to hack up blood and spit onto the ground as he continued on. The pain had long since grown to encompass his body but he pressed on, focused on the slowly fading blocks to his destination.

River air finally filled his lungs. Kenneth stumbled along the sidwalk of the bridge road and kept a hand on the railing. His eyes refused to look down at the churning water as he walked unsteadily along. His legs began to wobble worse, his knees weakening with each step. He got halfway across and stopped. Dropping, he gave his legs the break they wanted and slid down. With an exhausted exhale, he leaned his head back, trying to get the air down his throat and into his chest. The plastic of the headset grew colder in his hands and he hugged it closer to himself.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he bowed his head slightly. I just gotta get to the other side and put on the headset. The moment I turn it on my muscles will be rendered useless and I'll fall. Nothing to it. Just...peace.

His hands shook. He cracked his tear-filled eyes as his chest tightened painfully and he coughed. The headset shook with his hands. Kenneth slowly lifted it and peered at the sleek faceless exterior. Slim and nondescript, but containing worlds full of people. Byrd. The word stung his heart. Kenneth hunched over. She would be out of the game event by now. If she'd messaged him, he'd see it when he logged on. She'd never know. She deserves a goodbye.

Sucking in a shallow breath, Kenneth pulled it on without thinking. He settled the headset around his face and pressed the power button. It lagged a moment, struggling with the distant connection before finally picking up a nearby signal and loading up the game.

Welcome back, Fraserx12!

Kenneth hit the start button and watched the world generate.

Loading...please wait.

Grass. Trees. Moonlight. Kenneth looked up and found himself still curled up inside of the truck where he'd last logged out. He blinked and stretched his avatars arms in front of him. Then he jumped.

"Oh, you are here!" Byrd peered at him through the window and laughed. Then she stepped back and flushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Turning around, Kenneth peeked out the open window. "No, I just...wasn't expecting you to know where I was."

"Well I saw your message and I thought I'd see if you were online. You weren't so I figured you might be eating and I don't have anything better to do, so I waited around." She smiled. The moonlight slid across her face and glinted off her eyes.

Kenneth felt a pang inside of his chest. His hand went to his chest and he coughed. Her smile dropped to a frown.

"You good?"

Kenneth's eyes skirted away. His gut twisted unhappily and he could feel the struggle for air seeping through. I may not have as much time as I thought. He sat up inside the truck seat. "Do you wanna go somewhere, and talk?"

"Sure. I have some cool stories from the event battle."

"Okay." He pulled on the seatbelt, then took it off. "Will you drive?"

She hesitated but then nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Kenneth swapped with her and let her take the lead. He sank back into the seat and just peeked over at her every now and then as she drove. Even serious she looked almost happy. Maybe happy was the wrong word. Content. Life doesn't bother her...how is that? Where does she get all of this lust for life from?

His eyes trailed away from her face and out to the starry game sky above them. He rarely stayed up through the night in-game. The exhaustion levels were normally too high. Kenneth peeked at his stats. Everything seemed fine for now, though. Probably because he hadn't been logged on since his mother stole the headset from him.

The truck sputtered to a stop at the top of the little grassy hill. Kenneth looked back and saw the town wasn't far away but still far enough off to be nothing but dots of light. He heard the door open and watched Byrd get out. Forcing his sluggish avatar to respond, he found the handle to the truck and got out himself. His knees shivered under his weight, but he wandered up there and sat down beside her at the apex of the hill.

Byrd laid back and folded her arms over her chest. She stared up at the stars. "I love this games star system. It's totally different from ours," she said. "I think they invented their own constellations."

Kenneth laid back down. The grass was cool against his skin. He wondered if the bars of the bridge railing were just as cold against his real-life back. He closed his eyes for a second and shook it off. That was reality. This was real.

"What makes you think that?" he asked her quietly, reopening his eyes. He stared at the little blinking lights. They looked exactly like stars.

Byrd lifted a hand and pointed to a cluster of dots. "See those there? They never change. There are others too. Lots of them. I can't quite make out the shapes and I don't even know if they have names, I just kinda noticed it...I get on a lot at night." She laughed and let her hand fall back to her chest.

Kenneth looked away from the stars and over at her. I wonder what her hair looks like in real life? If she has the same shine to her face that she does here. I bet she does. He swore he could see the stars reflected in the pupils of her eyes as she focused on them. A smile tried to tug at his lips but was easily quashed as his gut turned and he looked away. He put a hand to his chest and coughed. Air wasn't coming to his chest as it should. He gasped and struggled for a moment before finally feeling the relief of a small amount of air inside his lungs.

"Kenneth?"

"S-Sorry." He looked over at her but cut his eyes to the still grass.

Byrd sat up some. "Are you okay?"

He grit his teeth some. His lips parted in preparation to tell her the only lie he'd ever told her since they started this game. He hesitated, though. Tears welled up in his eyes, he could feel them behind the headset. Dripping down his real face. He didn't feel them in the game, though, and just closed his mouth a moment, gathering the energy and the breath to speak. His gut twisted, cold gripping his body.

It won't matter in a few minutes. She deserves the truth.

He swallowed and closed his eyes. "N-No."

A hand rested on his arm. So warm, considering it was a game. His hand tightened into a fist. He opened his eyes quickly, finally feeling the virtual tears slide down his cheeks. Byrd stared down at him with a soft expression. She tilted her head to the side some.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me, I'm just worried about you."

He shook his head firmly. "Please...I-I can't keep lying." His stomach dropped and became a knot but his lips kept moving. "I-I need you to know the truth. Please. Let me tell you..."

She smiled but her eyes were gentler than that. He could see his own pain in her gaze as she nodded. The cold faded from his skin and he relaxed slightly. Byrd drew back and sat up, removing her hand from his arm. He stared at her. Is this...empathy? He blinked and looked away from her.

"Tell me as much or as little as you want, I'll listen, okay?" She offered.

Kenneth nodded. "Thank you." He inhaled. Some of the air reached his chest and he exhaled slowly as the adrenaline continued fading from his external body.

"For one, I'm really sick. I...have been since we met. This game, I access it from a hospital headset and I'm only on a lot cause I have nothing better to do. I guess it's my escape and my reality." He reached out and picked a blade of grass. "When I passed out, that was complications with my health. I just didn't wanna worry you." He peeked back at her nervously.

She nodded, her eyes on the stars. "Can I ask a question?" she asked.

"Y-yeah..."

"What are you sick with?"

"COPD. I'm...well," Kenneth inhaled and rubbed his face some. "Lemme start from the beginning. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Nodding, Kenneth stared up at the stars. "Right then. I'm a runaway. My mom...isn't the nicest person on the planet. When I was 14 I left home and by the time I was 15 I was sick. It got worse and I ended up in the hospital. Now I'm stuck there, and unless I get a lung transplant, I'll die. Except...only my mom can pay for it." Kenneth touched his chest. His fingers dug into his avatars shirt and he felt more tears welling up into his eyes. He let them slide down his cheeks. "I-I let her back into my life because I wanted to live, and now I'm not even sure I want that anymore."

Byrd looked back. He felt the warmth of her hand hovering over his arm, but then started to retract. Kenneth looked over and reached out after her. He caught her fingers with his and squeezed tight.

She squeezed back and then turned over to lay on her stomach, holding his hand. "I'm still listening."

Kenneth's eyes fixed on their hands and he bowed his head, nodding. "I just wanted to come here and talk to you, I guess. I thought maybe somehow if I ran away enough times, if I made it on my own, it would be fine, but now that she's back. I can't take it. She tried to take all of this from me, my only connection to you, and the only reality I know anymore. I just couldn't do it." He shook his head. This wasn't it. This wasn't what he wanted to say. He screwed his eyes shut and just gripped her hand, rasping for a moment until the release came again. It was getting harder. He wheezed and left his eyes closed. Her grip didn't loosen, just remained warm and tight.

"It's okay, I'm right here. I'm listening."

His jaw trembled but Kenneth nodded. "I wanted to say goodbye, but now that I'm here. I don't know..." Managing to open his eyes, Kenneth looked over at her. A tear slid into the grass. He hiccuped and pressed against his chest to countermand the pain. "H-How? How do you do it?"

Byrd dipped her head and closed her eyes. She exhaled and rested her other hand on top of his. Her thumb was moving, rubbing in circles against his knuckles. Kenneth's jaw trembled as he tried to hold back tears, waiting for her answer.

She stayed there a long moment, then looked up. A thin smile touched her lips. "Well, honestly, this is going to sound like the cheesiest thing in the world, but the answer is Jesus. He...he's my whole purpose in life. The reason I keep living even when my brain and body don't want to. Even when life tells me to quit."

Kenneth nodded. Jesus. He'd heard that name before, as a kid in Bible classes. All those Sundays she'd marched them off to church. Bible verses half memorized, stuck in the back of his head. He swallowed. I asked...is this your answer, God?

"I can't really say I'm sorry if it sounds silly, cause that's the answer," Byrd added after a moment.

He looked back over at her. The pain was fading, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing, but he'd roll with it. He rubbed at some of the leftover tears and nodded. "Will you tell me more...about it?"

She smiled. "Course. I've got all night."

He nodded. He could feel the metal of the railing against his back, but he ignored it and focused on the grass again. He looked up at the open sky, full of stars, twinkling like lights. He inhaled quietly. "Me too."