It was true. Jett didn't seem to be breathing at all, and Luka definitely couldn't feel a pulse, despite moving his fingers around a bit to locate it. These were all things he just did not think about and it was confronting. He was scared, but how could he not be? This sort of shit was fictional, in books and movies. Now he had to believe it happened in real life? He wanted it, if only to be released from the torment and shit that his life had turned into. He didn't have anything to live for, and if this was some sort of loophole to get rid of the shit life and still stay living? He wanted it. Only not Jett was apparently telling him it might not escape it at all and it could haunt him even more?

Fuck yes, he was scared. Fucking Titanic and Henry VIII? That was a serious fucking elaborate story if Jett was bullshitting him. Jett had never bullshitted him before, though. Never. In fact, he was the only person in Luka's life who had ever been honest and open with him. Which is why he trusted him, even if he was this thing he was saying he was, it was still more than Luka trusted anyone else. Jett was all he had left, and he wanted - no, needed - to understand this so he didn't lose his best friend forever. Wordlessly, he held out his wrist to Jett, blue eyes still red-rimmed and teary from his near breakdown as he watched Jett with a mix of nervous curiosity and plain fear of what he was about to see.