Rust, sickness, sweat and death,
Was all the underground camp only ever reeked of,
But Roman had grown used to it,
And sometimes, the scent still caught him off guard,
When it did, it felt like a hand tightening around his throat, reminding him that this wasn't home.
It was a grave waiting to be filled.
The shelter had once been part of an old subway system.
The tracks were long gone and replaced by rows of makeshift cots and blankets spread over cracked concrete.
Overhead, rusted beams groaned under the weight of whatever the aliens were doing to the ruined city above.
Dim lights buzzed weakly as rheir flickering glow cast long shadows over the sick and dying.
And Jonas was among them.
The dying,
Roman sat beside his friend's cot, staring at the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Each breath seemed to be a struggle.
Each moment was a countdown.
A countdown to his demise.
Jonas had always been thin, but now he was skeletal.
His skin was stretched tight over his bones, and his hair had grown dull and brittle over the last two years.
As the child stared at the boy's sleeping form,
He felt the cruel mocking of hopelessness,
Roman had seen death before.
But never like this.
It was always fast and instant,
Never stretched out over weeks while eating someone alive from the inside out.
Jonas suddenly stirred and his eyelids fluttered open,
Forcing a weak smirk to tug at his cracked lips when his gaze caught his friend's.
"Little sir Trouble," he rasped in a sickly voice. "You're still here?"
Roman huffed, relieved that at least Jonas' personality hadn't rotted away with the rest of him.
"Where else would I be?"
Jonas chuckled, or you could say he tried to,
But it came out as a sharp wheeze that sent him into a fit of coughing.
Leaving blood at the back of his bony hand,
Roman's clenched his hands into fists and sighed, before relaxing slowly,
He couldn't do anything.
There was no medicine,
No cure.
Just this.
All he could do was to watch and wait while hoping for a miracle as he internally died alongside him,
One slow second at a time.
Jonas finally stopped coughing and smiled weakly as he wiped at his mouth with a trembling hand,
Smearing blood across his skin.
Roman didn't react.
He couldn't afford to.
Jonas let out a shaky sigh as he whispered,
"You look like you climbed out of hell"
"So do you."
"Fair." Jonas grinned.
Silence settled between the two boys as the world around them buzzed with distant murmurs, crying children and the occasional moan of someone too sick to scream out in pain.
Jonas shifted slightly, reaching under his thin blanket with shaking fingers.
"Idiot, you're not supposed to move too much" Roman whispered,
"Hold out your hand." Jonas chuckled endearingly,
"What?" Roman asked as his lips curved into a frown,
"Just do it."
Roman hesitated for a second, before holding out his palm,
Jonas pressed something cold and round into it.
From the structure of the object, he could tell it was a coin.
An old, slightly worn out coin.
He brought his palm closer to his eyes to identify the coin under the dim lighting,
Ten denaris.
"Ta-da" Jonas laughed cheekily,
Roman looked at him with an unimpressed frown,
"What is this?" He asked,
"A souvenir." The boy answered immediately, his voice barely more than a whisper now.
"For you." The sick child added as he used his frail fingers to shut Roman's healthy ones around the coin,
Before pushing it towards the boy's chest as he urged him to accept the gift.
Roman turned it between his fingers, scrutinizing it with thinly veiled interest.
The engraved emblem was faded, but he could still make out the image,
A crest from a country that probably didn't exist anymore.
"You should keep it," Roman muttered as he open and closed his fist around it,
"I don't need it where I'm going." Jonas added as he sighed with a smile,
Roman swallowed as his body tensed up.
His fingers tightened around the coin as he whispered,
"Don't talk like that." Roman warned him,
"Like what?"
"Like you're dying soon"
Jonas huffed a small laugh, tilting his head gently as he grinned at him,
"Come on, Roman. I've been dying for months. The only difference now is that you're finally here to see it." He explained,
Roman didn't know what to say to that.
Jonas sighed and tilting his head back slightly so that he was staring at the ceiling again,
As his breaths got slower and shallower.
"I had a dream last night," he murmured as he raised his hand towards the tunnel's roof.
Roman forced his voice to stay steady as he answered,
"Yeah?"
"I dreamed I was walking through the city. Before the half of the moon collapsed." Jonas closed his eyes as he narrated,
"The sun was out. The streets were loud. People were everywhere. It was… warm."
Roman listened as his throat tightened in despair.
"What does that mean?" He whispered,
"I think I'll go back there. When it happens." Jonas smiled faintly.
"When what happens?" Roman asked, even though he already knew what Jonas was hinting at,
For the first time, Jonas didn't answer.
His chest rose,
It fell,
Then, it stopped.
Roman stared wordlessly, just before his body started to shake in fear,
He reached out and pressed two fingers to Jonas' wrist, just like the adults did when he slept for many days in a row,
They taught him how to measure pulses,
But there was nothing to feel in his wrist,
No beat,
No breath.
No heartbeat.
Just silence.
Something in his chest twisted, like a sharp knife digging into his heart.
His fingers squeezed the coin, pressing it's edges into his palm so hard that it hurt.
Tears escaped from his eyes and soaked through his garments,
He couldn't scream,
Adults immediately rushed towards the children, pushing him away as they checked on Jonas, trying to see if he could be revived.
"Roman."
Elara's voice was soft, but he barely heard it.
"Roman."
A hand on his arm.
He didn't move.
Jonas was still being fussed about on,
He looked like he was only sleeping with a happy smile plastered on his face,
Like he might wake up and make some stupid joke about how ugly Roman looked when he was sad.
But he wouldn't.
Not ever again.
Roman inhaled slowly as he steadily pried his fingers open, staring at the coin resting in his palm.
Elara stepped back and watched from afar in silence.
Roman didn't cry.
Not when they wrapped Jonas in an old sheet.
Not when they carried him to the farthest part of the tunnel, where the others had been laid to rest.
And not when they covered his body with dirt and whispered quiet prayers.
He just stood there, holding the ten denaris in his palm.
Later that night, when the shelter grew quiet,
Roman sat alone in the corner of a carriage that had been turned into a room,
Elara found him staring at the coin under the low light of the space,
She didn't say anything at first, not knowing if comfort would upset him further,
So she just sat down beside him and let her presence ground him as he struggled to arrange his thoughts.
After a long silence, her eyes softened as she spoke.
"He was your first friend here, wasn't he?" she whispered,
Roman glanced at her before turning the coin between his fingers.
She almost thought he wouldn't answer but he replied softly,
"Yeah"
"I'm sorry." She whispered,
He swallowed,
"Me too." He whispered, just before his grandmother grabbed the currency out of his hand,
Elara hesitated at first, before reaching into her pocket and pulling something out,
Roman watched curiously as she brought out a small strip of leather.
And without uttering a word, she tied it around the coin and made it into a necklace.
Roman stared at it when she planted the necklace into his hand,
"You should keep it close," she said softly.
"So you don't forget."
Forget?
Like that was possible.
Roman slipped the makeshift necklace over his head and let the coin rest against his chest.
He wouldn't forget.
Neither this.
Nor Jonas.
Or the weight of ten denaris pressing down on his chest,
Not now,
And not ever.
It burned,
Roman woke up, gasping for air as he tore the red-hot necklace off his neck,
Watching as it landed several feet away, bouncing on the bathroom tile,
His limbs trembled as he plucked off the damp top stuck to his sweat-drenched body,
"What the hell?" He whispered through gritted teeth as he struggled to raise himself off the ground,
When the mirror faced him, he could make out the faint red outline of the coin that was once sitting on his chest,
He poked the raw skin cautiously, glancing at the keepsake on the ground from time to time,
"Damn" He muttered as he touched his poorly bandaged wounds,
Feeling the pain of everything he'd been through earlier wreck his body a second time,
He leaned against the wall, before stumbling out of the bathroom and into the room with a sharp gasp.
Ethan was passed out on his bed for the first time in days,
And a small smile graced Roman's face,
At least, one of them was getting good dreams tonight.