150 meanwhile in the elsewhere

“Deacon is gone - RAPTURED if you want to call it.” The sound left the small television that was attached to a metal arm which hooked into the plain wall. Below it, flowers brightened the room. Lots of flowers. Lots of colors. Lots of … brightness.

“You get Stalk...” Jack said then swallowed, or tried to. “Nex--”

The man called Deacon shook his head then took a plastic cup with water, held the plastic straw in it, and put it to his son’s lips so Jack wouldn’t have to look for it. “You need d’ink, son.”

Jack sipped, or tried to. 

He was struggling more, but he was awake and maybe some of that light was returning, no matter what the doctors said. Deacon pulled the straw away from his son, and with one end of the straw in the water, Deacon covered the other end of the straw with his thumb. He pulled it out of the cup, putting the open end in his son’s mouth and then removed his finger, letting the water flow into Jack’s mouth. 

Jack drank it, or tried to. 

The Deacon took the flat sheet and used it as a napkin, wiping the excess water from around Jack’s lips. He knew his wife wouldn’t approve, but she wasn’t here at the moment. It was just Jack and his dad.

Throughout his career, people had called Deacon a hero, marveled at his strength, quickness, resilience, and most importantly, noted how the character was much bigger than the man. As the Deacon looked into his son’s eyes barely visible beneath drooping lids, the Deacon understood that last part more than ever. The Deacon, a mountainous man of faith, wasn’t him. The Deacon was Jack and many people like him.

But to them, to Jack, they wanted to see the person who’d played the part; they wanted to live through that person’s expressions. And for Jack, he wanted more than anything, to be a part of the Deacon’s story, never realizing Jack was already the greatest part, not just the greatest part of the character but of the one behind the character.

By the time the main event of night 2, Jack had fallen asleep. He was sleeping more now, but at least he wasn’t in pain. He’d been so strong for so long.

“He sleeping?” Sarah asked.

Deacon nodded then turned toward his wife, his real wife. He’d never seen such sadness over the last several years, and such awkwardness as Deacon played his part in Jack’s on-screen story. Sarah had never felt photogenic, but Sarah was occasionally wrong, not that he would push the issue. Sarah turned to the television just as the DEF On Demand commercial ended & Teresa & Gage started their bit.

“150?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Did he see any of it?”

“He heard Stalker,” Deacon said. “Woke him up for moment. I gave d’ink.”

“He’s drinking?” Sarah asked, turning from the television.

Deacon shrugged. Sarah knew what that meant. They both turned back to 150 as the announcer riled the crowd with the announcement of “from Edinburgh, Scotland, weighing in at…”

And they both hoped that Jack would be able to see the main event.

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