He wondered how long he would be able to stay in this trashy apartment. The wall paper was peeling and damp. There were water stains all over the place. There was a couch that had collapsed and now the torn and worn cushions rested on the floor. Most of the windows were broken, but as long as they were here together they didn't mind so much.
He slowly turned his head, feeling the stiffness of his body which had been unmoving for so long. John lay a little ways down the hall, maybe a yard away from him. He was grey and he could almost feel the cold radiating from his body. Remy knew that in a few more days, John's decomposing body would begin to reek like nothing before, but right now, in the way he was in, he looked like he had just curled up and gone to sleep.
John was his best friend through thick and thin. He couldn't just leave him through thin. In the logical part of his mind he knew that John was dead, but drugged as he was, the reasonable part of his mind wasn't being heard. He could reason with himself that John had just gone to sleep. He could ignore the blood splatter on the wall.
He had come home only to find the blood on a tacky puddle on the floor and John dead, lying along the corner wall. Numbly he had stumbled over to the counter, his mind and heart in a painful haze. He knew he should call the cops or something, but they'd only write it off as one more druggie killed, and really, what was wrong with that anyway? He had seen the pain pills. Pain pills killed pain right? He had looked on the bottle but the amount in there didn't seem like enough number of pills to kill the kind of pain he was in. He took seven. He had spent the last day and a half taking numerous amounts of pain pills, sitting up against the wall, waiting for John to wake up while he stared at the wall, his drug fogged mind creating dreams in his head. He couldn't bare the thought of being without John. He couldn't stand the pain long enough when the drugs started wearing off to think about what to do next. He just took more pills to numb him back up.
Jean woke up, tears streaming down her face. She had picked up incredibly strong emotions of pain and sorrow all blurred over with a slow confusion. She pulled her pillow out from behind her head and pulled it down to wear she lay. She hugged it to her chest and began rocking slowly, wondering what to do.
Remy's glazed eyes stared directly into the rising sun's rays, not noting the pain as it burned into his retinas. He looked over at John. The sun was giving his skin a honey golden cast. He looked just as he had two weeks ago when Remy had come home and saw him sleeping on the couch. There was a gentle knocking on the door. He ignored it but it persisted. He couldn't see the door from his place in the hall, he wouldn't have seen it anyways because he continued to look into John's face.
"Remy." Someone called his name and he looked in their direction. Magneto stood there. The sun poured out from behind him but Remy could see the concerned look on his face although he didn't register it. Magneto held out his hand. "It's time to go." Remy thought of refusing for a moment. What was he doing here anyways? He abandoned them. Left them all by themselves except for each other. "Can'." He mumbled. "Gotta wait f' John t' wake up." His words slurred from all the pills he had taken. His vision was as blurred as his speech.
In a flash, Magnet had him by the arm and by the waist. "We'll wake John up." Remy nodded, not thinking clearly because of the excess of drugs in his system. He let Magneto half drag, half carry him out of the apartment. He only cast one look back at the sleeping John. He hated to be woken up anyway.