Arthur clutched the gun in his trembling hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. Francis stared at it with wide eyes, fear evident in his gaze.

"Arthur..." he pleaded. "Arthur, please."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "I can't do this anymore, Francis," he choked out, letting out an uncontrollable sob. "I'm afraid. I don't want to be afraid anymore."

Francis shook his head, tears welling up in his own eyes as he climbed up to his knees. "Arthur, no," he whispered, reaching out for the Brit's hand. "Please don't do this."

Arthur yanked his hand away, cocking the pistol. "Would anyone notice, Francis?" he replied. "Would anyone care?"

Francis got to his feet now, staring down the cold metal gun that was now his mortal enemy. He clenched his fists, fear constricting his gaze.

"I would notice," he said softly. "And I'm sure you would, too."

Arthur choked out another sob. "If only I had the guts to put this to your head."

"Arthur-"

"Not you!" he interrupted, pointing to a spot behind Francis. "Him!"

Francis looked over his shoulder, only to see nothing there. "...What?"

Arthur wiped his nose with his free sleeve. "Oliver!" he shouted. "Make him go away, Francis! You promised me he would go away!"

"I'mtrying, Arthur!" Francis replied, his voice quickly softening as he took another step closer. Arthur stepped back quickly. "I'm trying. I've always been trying. I just want you to be happy."

"It doesn't matter, Francis!" Arthur shouted back. "I'm as good as dead! Ever since Ollie died!"

Francis shook his head, successfully taking Arthur's hand in his own. "It was never your fault that Ollie died," he said softly, moving closer to him. "Drop the gun. I want to talk to you."

Arthur shook his head and started to squeeze the trigger. "No."

"Arthur, please!" Francis' tone was desperate now. "It's going to be okay! I need you!"

Arthrlur froze and stared at him, his eyes vacant and tear-stained, loosening his grip on the trigger. "F-Francis..."

And then he said it.

"I love you."

Arthur wailed and pulled the gun away from his head, throwing it away and collapsing into Francis' arms, burying his face in his white cotton shirt and sobbing.

"I'm scared, Francis," he choked out as Francis held him close. "He won't go away."

Francis rubbed his back gently. "But neither will I," he replied, kissing his forehead softly. "I'll always be here to protect you, mon amour."

Arthur nodded, hiding his face in the Frenchman's shirt. "Promise..."

"I promise."

Arthur let out a shaky sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Arthur laid awake in their bed, staring up at the cieling. "Does anyone notice, Francis?" he whispered. There was no reply. He looked overrun at the sleeping Francis and smiled, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his neck. His hair started to slowly change color, fading from a sandy blonde into a powdery pink.

"Does anyone notice?" he whispered against Francis' hair as his green eyes swirled into blue and pink and a smile spread across his face. He slipped out of the bed, crossing the room and picking up the gun that still rested on the floor, examining his now plae, freckled fingers for a moment before cocking the pistol. He turned around, holding the pistol against Francis' head.

"Does anyone notice?~" Oliver sang as he pulled the trigger, plugging his ear with his finger. Arthur shot up out of bed, his eyes widening when he saw the blood dripping from Francis' forehead.

"Francis!" he cried, cupping his face in his hands and sobbing. He held Francis' head close to his chest, looking up at Oliver and shooting him a glare.

"I hate you," he growled, squeezing his eyes shut. Oliver danced over, holding the gun against the back of Arthur's head.

"But does anyone care?~" he sang, pulling the trigger and letting out a maniacal giggle as Arthur's blood splattered against the wall and the sheets. He frolicked over to the door, looking back at the scene sadly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured sadly, pocketing the gun and strolling down the hall, not bothering to close the door. The screams of the maid who walked in on the scene echoed throughout the hallway, and he continued to sing.

"And there's no room in this Hell."

He climbed up onto the windowsill at the end of the hallway, sliding open the window.

"There's no room in the next."

He slipped out, letting his legs dangle over the drop beneath him.

"But does anyone notice..."

He slid forward.

Felt every bone in his body snap as he hit the ground.

He let out a last laugh as people ran over to aid him, but he knew it was too late for him. But he didn't care.

The light in his eyes was already fading as he uttered his last words.

"There's a corpse in this bed..."

I based this off of the song "Early Sunsets Over Monroeville" by My Chemical Romance. I hope you enjoyed it! Comment your opinions, please. And thank you all for your support.