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When the time came to leave, it was surprisingly difficult for Brian to find Jonny. He searched all of the loudest venues, bars where the patrons loudly swore and fought, clubs where the dancing was almost indistinguishable from violence. He almost overlooked the seedy old bar with the rotten smell, simply because it didn’t have that frenzied energy and cacophony of noise.
It was silent, completely silent as he stepped inside, the blood strewn around the room already turning cold.
“Jonny?” Brian called, knowing the first mate to be the victor. He was answered with silence, and Brian sighed. He’d likely have to wait for his body to recompose, or he could just find the corpse and let him wake up on the ship.
There was a sound, like someone slowly shifting where they sat, and when Jonny’s voice called back to him, it was weak. “‘M over here,” He said, his voice scratchy and fading.
Brian followed the sound, to behind the counter where Jonny sat on the floor, leaning against the counter with a knife in his chest. Brian knelt beside him, taking in his bruised and bloodied form. Not an unusual sight in the slightest, but his expression threw Brian. A smile played at his lips, and not one of the frenzied, bloodthirsty grins he had seen time and time again.
He was content.
Jonny shut his eyes gently, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he was listening to a far-off melody.
“Can you hear it?” Jonny whispered. Brian strained to hear, but all that came to him was the quiet sounds of the night. He slowly shook his head, and Jonny chuckled. He gripped the knife still stuck in his chest, wrenching it out. It was painful, Brian could tell, but Jonny still smiled. “Listen.”
Jonny reached out to take Brian’s hand, moving quickly and placing Brian’s palm against his chest before he could lace their fingers together.
“You know I can’t feel anything.” Brian sighed. Jonny nodded, a hint of sadness crossing his expression. His next words were murmured like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever spoken.
“It’s slowing.”
Brian’s head shot up to look Jonny in the eyes, and suddenly it was as if he could feel the cold metal encasing his heart.
“But it can’t slow. It’s not made to.”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?” He smiled, a real, genuine smile full of joy, and Brian couldn’t bring himself to cry, not when Jonny was finally happy.
“Yes. Y-yes, it’s wonderful. I’m happy for you.”
Jonny nodded, humming softly. Gingerly, he wrapped his fingers around Brian’s hand, still pressed firmly against his chest. “You should have it.” His voice was nearly a whisper now, fading away along with the rest of him.
“Are you sure?” Brian has no need to whisper, they’re the only two for miles, but it feels right.
“‘Course. Not like I’m going to need it. Besides,” He reached up with his free hand, and as he gingerly cupped Brian’s face it struck him just how frail he was becoming. “You’re already it’s rightful owner at this point.”
Brian nodded slowly, leaning forward to press his lips against Jonny’s forehead. “I’ll take good care of it.” He murmured. Jonny didn’t hear.
When Brian returned to the Aurora with sorrow in his eyes and Jonny’s heart in his hands, they all knew what it meant. For once, silence passed over the crew, and stayed for weeks, for they all knew what it meant. They just had no idea who was next.