Prompt: Someone close to a minor villain suddenly dies.
Dead. Gone forever. He wasn't coming back. No more nights of deep conversations, no more days of forgetting their impending split, they could do whatever they wanted. No more sneaking into each other's rooms for late night cuddles. No more longing glances in each other's direction. Randall couldn't remember a life without Henry, and he certainly didn't want to imagine life continuing without him.
He couldn't complain. He had Angela all to himself, but somehow this did nothing to satisfy him. The one person he ever wanted was lying dead and cold in a wooden coffin. The man couldn't cry. His grief was overpowering him, clouding his emotions. He barely noticed the few people that attended his funeral (despite his fame and appreciation in Monte D'or, some couldn't bare the thought of Henry having died.) walking sullenly away, or the gentle hand that Angela placed on his arm in sympathy. She refused to leave him in this state, who knew what the grieving man could do. He had already proved to Monte D'or that when riled with anger, he could perform 'miracles' that brought destruction and fear to the town.
Angela gently approached the grieving man.
"Randall?" She asked tentatively. One wrong move, and all the progress he had made prior to Henry's passing would have been for nothing. Randall felt like he was nothing without the other man beside him. What was he to do now?
Without a response, the blonde frowned deeply and continued.
"D-Do you want a moment alone?"
"Yes." His voice was hoarse and made his throat constrict tight. It took everything in him to not break down in front of Angela. He had to be strong. Henry taught him it was okay to show emotion, to cry, and laugh, and where was he now? Dead.
Angela nodded, although Randall couldn't see, and with a last goodbye to Henry, she turned and walked out of the cemetery.
When he was sure he was alone, Randall felt his lip wobble as the first sob escaped him. Soon hot tears were streaming down his face and he sobbed loudly and fell to his knees, too weak, both emotionally and physically, to keep himself upright.
He reached out with a shaking hand towards the tombstone of his friend.
"H-Henry!" He gasped out between sobs. He could envisage Henry's response to his loud crying; he would implore Randall to stop crying. When that proved useless as Randall couldn't prevent his tears, he would then circle his skinny arms around his friend and beg him to stop or he would start. This would calm Randall down and they would sit in that warm embrace until they fell asleep from exhaustion.
But Henry wasn't there anymore to embrace his friend until he would stop crying. The grief of Henry dying finally caught up with him after two arduous weeks of trying to put a front up for Angela that he was fine and that he would have to accept Henry's death, the floodgates burst open. His sobs increased in intensity and volume. His head was aching and his heart was heavy as all of his emotions were expelled from his body.
I could have done so much more to prevent this, Henry. If anything, I should be the one lying to rot underground, not you.
There was so much that Randall wanted to tell Henry. He wasn't even back for more than a month when Henry fell ill. They thought he would overcome it, but they were wrong. He got worse, and he became sicker and suffered immensely until he was on his death bed. Randall refused to leave his side. The guilt he felt for not helping Henry sooner and trying to destroy the city he and Angela built for him. As Henry coughed weakly and held onto Randall's hand, the redhead struggled to fight the tears that pooled in his eyes as he watched the light leave Henry's watery blue eyes. It wasn't until Henry grew still and he was no longer squeezing Randall's to combat the pain did the man let out a shout of agony. He felt as though a half of him had been forcefully ripped away.
Randall crawled forward and slumped against the tombstone, encircling his arms around the cold rock and his crying continued. He felt ashamed for crying so much in a short time frame, but his grief, his anger and sorrow was clouding his judgement. He felt lost and alone without Henry. Not even the thought of Angela or Hershel managed to cease his tears.
Through his tears, he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips on the stone. He should have done more for Henry, should have noticed that something was amiss in his declining health.
Eventually his loud sobbing was reduced to whimpers, his tears had finally stopped, but he kept his arms where they were.
I should have done more for you, Henry.
He shakily kissed the stone again and got up on wobbly legs. He smoothed his clothes out and looked down at the inscription on the tombstone.
Here lies Henry Ledore
Beloved by all in Monte D'or
Dedicated husband to Angela Ledore
'I'm not gone. Look up to the sky
And you shall find me.'
Those words is what Henry had told Randall when he was sad about his grandfather dying, and seeing them made Randall almost burst into tears again.
No. He needed to move on. Yes, Henry wasn't physically with him, but he would always be in Randall's heart.
As he slowly ambled out of the cemetery, he turned to look at his grave one last time.
I love you.
"I'm sorry."
A/N: hope you enjoyed this. I got the idea after seeing the prompt and I wrote it today and wanted it posted! I know Randall isn't really a villian, although he did villianous acts, but I got the idea and I wanted to write it.