A/N: Hey, fanfiction world! I've been absent for a while and honestly, I have no idea why I just wrote this. I must say, I've been meaning to take a stab at writing again, but I fully intended for something much more upbeat. Instead, I wrote this. So, uh, yeah. Sorry.

This addresses depression and PTSD. It takes place well after all the games.


Sora tossed in his sleep, face scrunching in response to crying. After a minute of trying to ignore it, he opened his eyes. The crying grew louder and the brunette decided it was time to finally check on it. Rolling out of his bed, he walked down the hall into the living room where he found a sight he had become familiar with.

"Roxas…"

"I miss him so much."

Sora stared at the back of the blonde's head who was sitting, hunched, on the couch staring at a lit candle flickering boldly on the adjacent coffee table. The only light in the room. Tears streamed down his face effortlessly as he rocked slightly, wringing his hands in his lap and shaking his leg.

"I know you miss him." Sora's voice was as stoic as his face. He walked emotionlessly to sit next to Roxas.

"I can't stand this. He's waiting for me. But I can't kill myself… I can't leave. I'm stuck here without friends… Without a free will. And he's been waiting for me." Roxas's voice grew louder and more desperate.

Sora did not cringe nor move. He had heard this lament before. But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't bring back the dead even if he wanted to. He couldn't change what had happened in the past no matter how desperately he wanted things to be different. He couldn't ignore it either because here was proof, sitting in tears in his living room, of every battle, every loss, every hard decision he had made in the past few years. Sora didn't like it any more than Roxas did, but he always felt as though he had to be strong. For himself. For Riku and Kairi. And of course, for Roxas. He never asked to be a part of such a mess and it was Sora's fault that he was involved, or created at all. Or at least, that's how the brunette saw it.

"Sora, let me die."

"You know I can't do that."

The two now middle-aged men talked side-by-side without looking at each other. They never did. Sora wasn't sure if he wouldn't look at him or physically couldn't; either way, he had never seen Roxas's eyes since returning to Destiny Island.

"Please, Sora, kill me."

"Roxas, I can't-"

"Please." The blonde's voice picked up again as his shaking grew more violent.

Sora's body tensed up. He was so conflicted. Roxas was depressed. He knew that. But he could heal him; he could be happy, couldn't he? Right now he wants to die, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't laugh about such a notion later when he became his old self again, right?

"Kill me. Kill me now."

As Roxas's screams continued, so did Sora's inner monologue. He had refrained from giving into the blonde countless nights already, what's one more night? Things will get better. Things will get better. Roxas will get better.

"Kill me."

Sora reached under the cushion of the sofa, revealing a gun.

"Do it, Sora. Do it. Just kill me."

The brunette was visibly shaken. So many times he had gone through this routine. He pulls out the gun, aims it at Roxas, fumbles, then blacks out, awakening in his own bed with a clearly worried Riku checking his temperature.

But this time felt different. Roxas seemed more distraught, more forceful.

"Kill me. Sora, now."

Sora looked around the room, gun still cradled in his hands, his eyes beginning to get watery. That's odd, he thought. The brunette shook his head slightly as he tried to blink away the tears. However, the more he shook, the more tears began to roll down his cheeks. Small cries started to escape his lips as his frustration built up. He wanted to stop crying. Why was he crying in the first place? That never would happen. As he shook his head harder, he started to panic.

"Sora, kill me. Kill me now."

Roxas continued to repeat himself, but it was just background noise to Sora's panicked thoughts. He couldn't see; there were too many tears. His knees kept hitting the table hard from his shaking, forming notable bruises. His hands clutched firmly to the gun, finger on the trigger.

"Sora. Kill me. Kill me, please. Sora."

This was it, he decided. He couldn't take Roxas's pleads anymore. It's been too long; he had exhausted himself trying to make it better. He had to give in so they could both move on. He had to pull the trigger. He had to. He had

"Yeah, no. I'm taking him back to the therapist today. I think his depression is getting worse…" Riku walked up the familiar steps up to Sora's apartment, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and his phone up to his ear in the other. "He says Roxas has been getting more persistent."

On the other end of the line, Kairi furrows her brow. "Riku, are you sure one of us shouldn't stay with him during the nights, too? I mean… What if he decides to do something rash? What if Roxas makes him do something?"

Riku stood in front of the apartment door juggling the bag and the phone, trying to find his key. "Kairi, if he really is losing it, the therapist will get to the bottom of it. And Sora is a grown man. Let's let him have his dignity and leave him be for at least a few hours a day."

"But Riku, I'm really worried he might think it's all real-"
"Kairi it'll be-" There was a pause as Riku stepped into the apartment. "Oh shit…"

"Riku? Riku?"

The phone laid discarded on the threshold along with the groceries. On the couch was Sora. A bullet hole in his head and a gun in his hand. Dead.

Riku threw himself down next to the brunette, too shocked to speak. He just stared with a look resembling his world falling apart.

"Riku!"

Kairi sat panicked, gripping her phone as she heard the sound of a gunshot distinctly over the phone. Riku's line went dead.