Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 244

XANDER'S POV

I’d read an article once about how in near-death experiences, the brain releases a flood of chemical light and fires off random signals. Supposedly, that’s what makes people see the tunnel. The peace. The flashes of light and familiar faces like the mind is trying to make sense of the silence before it slips away.

I don’t remember the article well. Just one line.

*The brain clings to what it loves last.*

I hadn’t seen any light. Just Jax.

His name was the first thing I said when I came to. But even before that, between those spaces in my mind, in the fragments where I could think or dream....it was always him. His face, his voice, his eyes. The sound of his laugh pulled from somewhere deep, soft and distorted, like an echo underwater.

The first time I woke up, it didn’t feel real. Everything was wrong...bright and blurred and loud. My body didn’t belong to me, pain crawled through it, sharp and endless. I remember turning my head and seeing my mum above me. Her face hovering close, her hand shaking against my cheek. She was smiling, but there were tears running down her face.

I tried to talk. Ask what happened. Ask if Jax was okay. My throat scraped dry when I tried to form the words. She said something I couldn’t catch, then turned her head toward the side.

And I followed her gaze.

He was standing there, still as stone, eyes rimmed red and dark with exhaustion. For a moment, he didn’t look real either....just a memory I’d dragged out of the dark. He shifted closer, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t. And God, he looked so broken.

My first instinct was to reach for him. To sit up, hold him, tell him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to look like that. But nothing moved. My body didn’t listen. Everything around me tilted, a nurse’s voice cut through the air, calm and urgent. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

I just kept my eyes on Jax. On the tremor in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to touch me but couldn’t. He smiled once, barely, and it looked painful. Happy and sad all at once.

I think I tried to tell him to come closer. Tried to breathe his name again. But the world folded in before I could.

And then darkness.

The next time I woke, I stayed awake longer. The haze didn’t swallow me as fast. The pain was still there, but the world came into focus, piece by piece. My dad’s voice first. Then my mum’s quiet laugh, the kind she made when she was holding herself together. And my siblings...soft smiles, relief in their eyes. They were telling me I was okay. That I’d scared them. That it was over now.

And then Jax.

I’d felt him before I even opened my eyes. The warmth of his hand wrapped around mine. Even half-dreaming, half-floating, I’d known it was him. There’s something about the way he touches me, like I’m something fragile and he’s terrified I’ll vanish.

I fought to open my eyes. And when I did, he was there, but now standing a couple steps away, eyes wide and wet and fixed on me. Relief was written all over his face, but beneath it....something else.

Fear.

I know Jax’s expressions better than my own reflection. I know what it means when his brows pinch just slightly, when he bites the inside of his cheek. I loved that he was there. God, I did. But I hated the flicker of pain that crossed his face, like even seeing me awake hurt.

I didn’t want that look. I didn’t want him hurting anymore. I tried to lift my hand toward him, the effort burning through every part of me. My dad noticed first, glanced at me, then turned to Jax.

“I think he wants you to come closer,” he said quietly.

Jax hesitated. Just for a second. Then he stepped forward until he was right beside me. Close enough that I could feel his presence, the warmth radiating off him. I managed to lift my hand the rest of the way, slow and shaky....and when he finally took it, he exhaled. A deep, sharp breath that seemed to tear out of him.

He squeezed my hand, leaned down, and his trembling fingers gently slipped into my hair. Way too gentle. His forehead pressed to mine, his eyes shut tight like he couldn’t bear to look.

That small contact....his skin, his scent, the weight of his breath, was everything. The world could’ve ended right there and I would’ve gone quietly, because Jax was touching me. Because he was real and warm and alive.

Then he kissed my temple. Just a soft brush of his lips, but it broke something open in me.

“Oh, baby.....” he whispered, voice low and cracked and aching.

And it wasn’t just the words, or the fact that Jax never called me anything other than Xander. Never even Xan, like everyone else did. He always said my full name like it meant something, like it steadied him.

And when he did call me something else, it was always to taunt or tease, usually said with that rough edge in his voice and that smirk tugging at his mouth.

It wasn’t even how he said them....wasn’t the tremor in his voice, or the way the words sounded like they carried a lifetime of ache behind them. It was what came after. When he finally pulled back enough for me to see his eyes. Glistening, heavy with tears he hadn’t yet let fall. That was what gutted me.

Because in that look, I saw everything. And I realized how utterly terrified he must’ve been. How long he must’ve been living inside that fear.

I’d sworn I’d bring him nothing but happiness, that after everything he’d survived, I’d make sure he never had to feel that kind of pain again.

And yet here we were.

Me broken....him breaking.

And despite the promise I’d made him, I'd turned into the very thing I swore I’d protect him from.

“Sorry,” I muttered, my voice rough and barely there. “I’m okay.”

He shook his head immediately, his hand tightening around mine. “Don’t try to talk. Just take it easy.” His voice was steady in that way he gets when he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart.

There was movement around me, my mum saying something to the doctor, my dad exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for hours. The doctor leaned in, checking the monitors. “We’ll keep him under close observation for the next twenty-four hours,” he calmly told them. “If his condition stays stable, we’ll move him to a recovery room. You’ll be able to visit more freely then.”

It all sounded distant, my body felt heavy, and I could already sense the pull of sleep creeping back in. But the moment I felt it start to take me, fear sparked in my chest.....a strange kind of fear. Not of pain, or of slipping under for good. Just this deep, quiet dread that grew from the way Jax was looking at me.

He was sitting so still beside the bed, his shoulders tense, eyes locked on me like he was trying to convince himself I was really there. That look on his face....it was relief, yes, but threaded with something else. Something broken and impossible to name. And suddenly, I didn’t want to sleep. I couldn’t. Because what if I closed my eyes and when I woke up....

So I tightened my hold on his hand and looked at him. “Stay,” I whispered, forcing the word out even though my throat burnt.

He blinked, almost startled, then swallowed hard. The faintest smile tugging at his mouth, tired and shaky. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, the dread eased. His voice grounded me the way it always does. I let myself believe it. Because Jax wouldn’t lie about something like that.