THE DARKEST MINDS: OASIS

Jesse's voice had gone silent.

That was the first thing that sent a ripple of unease down my spine.

I had heard him just moments ago, shouting, laughing, losing himself to something I couldn't see. But now? Nothing. Just the sound of water slapping against the tile, the occasional sputter from the old pipes.

I hovered near the door, hand clenched at my side. I'd seen Jesse lose himself before—too many times to count—but this felt different. It wasn't just an episode. It was deeper. Worse.

I had pulled him out of it earlier, but it hadn't been enough. It was never enough.

Taking a slow breath, I pushed open the bathroom door. Steam billowed out, thick and suffocating, curling around my skin like the remnants of a storm. The light overhead flickered, casting the room in erratic bursts of brightness and shadow.

"Jesse?" My voice was steady, but my gut twisted as I gently closed the door behind me.

No answer instead I saw a figure fall to the floor.

"Where are you?" He asked softly, weakly.

I froze.

The words barely registered in my brain, but they hit me like a punch to the gut. "Where are you?"

It wasn't Jesse's usual tone, the sharp, self-assured voice I knew too well. This was small, broken, lost—like he wasn't even sure who he was talking to.

I didn't move at first, the sight of him crumpled on the cold tile floor making my stomach churn. His face was pale, his eyes wide but distant. He wasn't really there. Not in the way he usually was.

"Jesse…" crawling, he slowly pulled himself forward-he was searching for something…me, looking all around the room however the heavy steam didn't help in his attempts so he could only call out, every movement he made him twich as if he was being punched.

"Maira? I-I can't find you." He asked softly "please, please don't become a shadow I can't handle another one."

The desperation in his voice sliced through me like a knife. "Please, please don't become a shadow…" His words were fragile, breaking as they left his lips. He was reaching for something, anything, but it was like he was drowning in an endless fog, unable to connect with the world—or with me.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees beside him. His breath was erratic, shallow, like every movement took more effort than he could give. My heart ached as I reached out to touch his arm, but even that simple gesture caused him to flinch, his body jerking as if he was under attack.

"Jesse, it's me," I said, my voice steady, though I felt far from it. His skin was cold, his body trembling from whatever storm raged inside him. "It's Maria. I'm here. I'm right here." Sitting down I pulled him into my arms, slightly rocking us as I felt the tears leave my eyes. "I am right here."

"I am sorry for scaring everyone I am-I am sorry for lashing out at you but please just don't leave me please ." He apologized quietly as he gripped my shirt tight.

His grip on my shirt tightened, fingers trembling as though he was afraid I might slip away, like he was holding onto me for dear life. The words he spoke were so raw, so broken, they tore at me in ways I couldn't describe. I could feel his guilt weighing on him, like a thousand bricks pressing down on his chest. The apology came too easily, like he expected me to pull away or abandon him for the things he'd said, the things he'd done when the world had spun out of control for him.

"You don't need to apologize," I whispered, holding him closer, my fingers threading through his damp hair as I pressed my cheek against the top of his head. The heat from the steam mingled with the coolness of his skin, creating a strange, disorienting sensation. "I'm not going anywhere, Jesse. I promise."

He didn't respond he just started humming as he played with my hair and it was beautiful-soothing almost.

The sound of Jesse's humming was a strange contrast to the storm swirling inside him. The melody was soft, fractured, as though it had been pulled from somewhere deep inside him—a memory, a moment of peace that still lingered despite everything. His fingers moved gently through my hair, and for a brief, fleeting moment, it felt like things might be okay. Like the world outside didn't exist, like it was just the two of us in the quiet of the steam and the darkness.

But even as he hummed, I could feel the tremors in his body, the way his muscles tensed with every breath, like he was trying to hold onto something he couldn't grasp.

I swallowed, trying to push down the lump in my throat, but the more I tried to hold it together, the harder it became. My arms tightened around him, and I pressed my face into his hair, letting the rhythm of his humming be the anchor that kept me from slipping away as well.

"Jesse," I whispered softly, my voice trembling despite myself. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here."

He didn't answer at first, just kept humming, his fingers still threading through my hair, moving in a way that was almost absent, like he was in some other place, some other time. But then, his voice, quiet and raw, broke the silence between us.

"I'm scared, Maria," he murmured, so softly that I almost missed it. "I'm scared that one day… one day, you won't be here. That I'll lose you too after all our plans are only two days away."

I felt my breath catch at his words, at the quiet, fragile way he said them, like he was confessing a truth he'd never allowed himself to voice before.

His humming slowed, fingers still absently threading through my hair, but I could feel the shift in him—the hesitation, the fear creeping in through the cracks of his mind. Jesse was always the one who seemed untouchable, even in the moments he lost himself to madness. But now? Now, he wasn't untouchable. He was human, and he was terrified.

I pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing damp strands of hair away from his forehead. His skin was clammy, pale beneath the dim light, but his eyes—they were searching, darting across my face like he was memorizing every detail, afraid that if he blinked, I'd disappear.

"You're not going to lose me," I said firmly, my voice stronger than I felt.

Jesse let out a quiet, shuddering breath, but his grip on my shirt didn't loosen. "You can't promise that."

"I can." I reached up, cupping his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I am. You're not alone in this, Jesse. Whatever's in your head, whatever you're afraid of—it's not going to take me away from you."

His expression flickered, torn between wanting to believe me and the weight of everything he'd seen, everything he'd endured.

Two days. That's what he'd said.

Two days until we left. Until we put everything we had into running, into escaping the hell we'd been forced into. Maybe that was why this was hitting him so hard. The uncertainty. The fear of what came next.

Sighing he stoped humming and sat up-just enough to look me in my eyes.

"Thank you." And slowly I watched as the fire in his eyes, the one that made him my Jesse lit back up, he is hands now steady he slowly brought us up into a standing position,gasping I held onto him,despite his legs being wobbly he managed to carry me to the sink where he placed me down on it.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he took a step back instead of answering he took his shirt off and placed it on one of the rusty old pipes.

Jesse didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned on the faucet, the water sputtering before a weak stream trickled out. He cupped his hands beneath it, letting the cold water pool in his palms before splashing it onto his face.

I watched him closely, the dim, flickering light casting sharp shadows across his features. He still looked exhausted—like he had just barely crawled out of whatever abyss had swallowed him whole—but there was something steadier in his movements now. A sliver of clarity beneath the haze.

He wiped the water from his face, exhaling slowly before looking back at me. "I needed to cool off," he said, voice rough, raw. "And… I don't want to sit in that mess." His eyes flickered toward the floor where he had collapsed, like even acknowledging the moment made it more real.

I didn't push. Instead, I reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, grounding him the way he had always done for me. He looked down at our joined hands, running his thumb over my knuckles like he was memorizing the feeling. Then, as if realizing how vulnerable he was being, he pulled away, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders.

"We should get out of here," he muttered, grabbing his discarded shirt and wringing out the dampness. "This place is suffocating."

I nodded, but I didn't move just yet. I could still see the weight in his posture, the way his shoulders remained tense even as he tried to shake off whatever had gripped him so tightly.

"Jesse…" I hesitated before reaching out again, this time cupping his cheek. His skin was still cool from the water, but beneath it, I could feel the warmth that had always been uniquely his. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch for just a second before pulling away. "No," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But I will be, I have to be." He said and although I wanted to say something I could see that there was something in his eyes that burned the fragility that was there but I don't know if that was a good thing as I watched his eyes harden.

"Jesse…" I began again, my voice barely a whisper, a quiet plea that I wasn't sure he'd hear.

But he did a small smile gra ring his face as he held his hand out. "Let's go we only have two more days left in this disgusting place."