same tws and always my gng

Scott laid, in the hospital bed at gems.

His eyes still gently shut, his face pale and dim.

The flush to his face still prominent from the fever.

He wasnt moving, just laying.
Finally at peace with fate. 

what was done was done.

no turning back now.

Because that minute he closed his eyes the night prior..

well..

...

Gem came into the room early that morning, looking over at the bed lightly illuminated by the orange hued, warm morning sun.
Her eyes widened, her blood ran cold, sweat balling up on her hands and forehead, tears tung the corners of her eyes as the focused further in on her friends body. 
Her eyes blurred as she stared without blinking.
Eventually taking a few steps closer to the side of the bed, reaching her hand over to his cold, pale face.
Blood trickling from the cyan haired elfs mouth, her thumb gently wiped it off, a tear dripping off her cheek onto his shoulder.

She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the light beat of his heart still going, she sighed in relief and her shoulders dropped as she looked up to check his bpm on the heart monitor.

Only 42..

She spent time by him, making sure he got no worse.

though his condition didnt improve either.

She looked down at her thumb, his dried blood still trickling through her fingerprint, yet dried up and browned.

a sigh of air left her mouth as she glanced back over to him, lightly taking his hand

"..Goddamnit.." she mumbled and stood up before reaching up and unhooking the saline bag to replace it.
The day was uneventful from there.

He woke up eventually, but didnt eat or talk much, just laid there staring at the lights, occasionally sitting up to cough our spit out blood or petals.

The pain only continued and all Gem could do was listen unless he gave in, which he didnt.

Jimmy had moved on, found his new person, that was no longer chromias well known colorful king.
Now replaced with the fairly well known blazeborne.
The blue flame and frosty eyes..

Blue was Scotts thing.

..Not anymore.

Now Scotts thing was red.

All the way from the petals to the blood that dripped from them whenever they exited his lungs. 
Doomed to a scarlet covered fate, only solvable by the sheriff, whose only interest now was the blazeborne that stuck by him minute by minute.

Though deep down, scott wished that blazeborn was still him.
When wandering beside Jimmy was the blue haired elf instead of the firey eyed blazeborne.

What a shame.

Gem came back into the room, with a soft sweater for scott to wear, the hospital being left lightly chilled over in the later months.
"Thought you might be cold in just the hospital gown by now" Gem smiled lightly and offered out the sweater to the paled elf
"..thanks.." Scott mumbled sleepily, his voice crackly and sore sounding to speak as he sat up, gently taking the sweater out of gems extended hands.
"I can bring you in some more blankets.. if that would be more comfortable.?" she offered quietly, offering him a light smile
"..Can we- this- offer.. might sound weird but-" the male paused and sighed, slipping the sweater on over his head and curling into it
"..Can we go to your house.? i- ill keep the medical equipment with me if itll help but- i just-.. dont wanna be in a hospital room another night.." he murmured, averting his gaze down and looking at his knees, only to peek back up and see gem lightly smiling
"..i- sure... yeah.! it would be more comfortable and.. probably more warm- i- i have a guest room you can stay in" she smiled and held out her hand to help him out of the bed, only for him to force himself up onto his knees on the edge and wrap his arms around her shoulders in a hug, she smiled lightly at him and hugged back, holding him for a good minute and letting him bury his head into her before they headed off to the house. 

Night came.

Gem had gone to bed already.

Scott felt like his chest was exploding, he couldnt breathe, his throat stung terribly, blood stained his sweater, the cloths beneath it, the blanket, his hands.

The lightly thickened scarlet liquid laid in his palms and deep under his nailbeds, pools and puddles filled with blood and the doomed petals and shriveled up leaves and stems.

And there he was, left alone, wallowing in his own misery and wheezing desperately for blocked off bloodied breaths.

He coughed.

And choked.

An Entire Thorned Poppy.
was pulled from his throat.

He took a small wheeze and moved to lie down in the guest bed hed been offered, resting a hand on his lightly swollen chest.
He didnt wanna get up. 

no.

..

he couldnt.

All he did from there, was shut his eyes.
Accepting the fact he may not wake up once more.

Morning rolled right back around, and gem came in to wake him up.
Only to find the remainders of the night prior.
Immediately running to his side and pressing her fingers into his pulsepoint.

Nothing.

He was gone.

And there was no more she could do about it.

The ginger took a faint step back and fell to her knees in a puddle of his slightly crusted blood on the carpet, a thorn hed coughed up lightly poking into her knee.

Tears fell.

her face soaked.

and stained.

she couldnt move.

she couldnt breathe.

she didnt wanna accept it.

she was in so so much disbelief she couldnt even think for a split second.

[weeks passed]

Exactly two weeks had gone by, most of the empires visited the grave regularly.

Yet gem sat there for most of her days, wallowing in the fact that.

she had a chance to save him.

and failed.

She decided to take a deep breath, and stood up, wiping her eyes and the dirt off her baby pink dress. 
And took one last thing from her pocket.

Sticking the dead, blood stained poppy into the center of the grave.

Before shutting her eyes, and quickly leaving the site.

filled with despair at the sight and thought of the loss of her close friend.

Owen too didnt know how to react to the news when delivered, and spent most of his time in scotts bed still.
Curled up in the colored patchwork blankets that once covered his brotherly like friend.

They still smelled like him, owen cherished that.

From there on out.

All that was left of him, was the forever paused and unfinished empire and half built buildings.

The statue thatd been decorated in his honor on the bridge.

And the grave.

that lie filled with various colors of dying flowers, replaced once every few weeks.

And..

the blood covered poppy.

that lie shriveled against the dirt on his grave.

Though little did they know..

late that summer the year following..

..

That poppy.

no roots.

dead.

coughed up from the once colorful king.

had slowly began to resprout..

no watering, no roots initally.

Nothing. 

just the once normal poppy..

with its slowly blackening petals..

though its stem slowly rising back straighter the more each day passed.

Though just like the disease.
Nobody knew, nor cared enough to help.

Except one.