Another one of my fictional reimagines. I hope I do not offend anyone with this. Instead of Victoria's passing, it's Albert's untimely death. I have already done a Vicbert of Victoria's passing, so this will be the other side of it.

This one isn't as good as my previous one, as far as I think. I had a difficult time figuring out how Albert would like to go out with. Solemn, or with a bang. Who really knows, honestly. I did incorporate his final words. I hope you all enjoy.

The pain was unbearable to Albert, but nothing could compare to the agony held onto Her Majesty's face. Albert watched his love hold onto his numb hand, then his eyes flickered towards his children, who were standing opposite of Victoria. Only five of them were present, but his mind was muddled, hardly able to recognize any of them without thinking too hard and resulting in more pain.

To Albert, death was not a thing he was particularly afraid of. He may have had a fleeting thought in regards every now and then, but he never truly contemplated it. After many people that had interacted with him passed on, he only lept to make sure his life had meaning with renewed vigor. His life was meaningful, as he ended up having quite the long list of achievements.

The Prince had expected to live all the way into his beloved would have and expected to pass on due to old age, but it appeared illness was the true grim reaper in his tale. The doctor had left just moments ago, diagnosing typhoid fever. As it was caught on too late, there was nothing Victoria, Albert, or any of their children could do but watch the man fade away from reality.

"Please tell me this is just some sick nightmare and I will wake up from it." Victoria said, tears streaking her beautiful cheeks. Her face was clear as day to the fourty-two year old man, despite his children being muddled messes. Perhaps it was because he recognized every streak, every curve and crevice of the woman crying into his hand after having passionate evenings ever since they were eighteen. "My mind must be playing tricks on me."

"Mama..." The voice, Albert recognized, was of Helena, his third daughter. His first daughter, Victoria, or Vicky as the royal family called her, was in Prussia with her husband. He knew for a fact Edward, or Bertie, wouldn't be allowed in the Blue Room. Not after what he had done with that actress. Besides, his mother was quite cross with him as it is. Beatrice and Leopold, his two other children, were too young to see their father pass on, so the only children present, he guessed, were Alice, Alfred (Affie), Helena, Louise, and Arthur.

"I don't understand, what's happening to Papa?" Arthur asked, the fear clearly resonating in his voice. The poor eleven year old boy had no clue what was going on, just like his thirteen year old sister Louise. Arthur's fifteen year old sister Helena, did not give an answer, but her facial expression was similar to Alice's: tears and red puffy cheeks.

"There are some things that are better left unsaid, Arthur." Affie said, running a hand through his hair as his eyes stared at the royal couple. "It is best if you just watch and let Mama have her time." Victoria's hand held onto Albert's as if it was the last thing in the world.

"Victoria." Albert called, his voice merely a whisper, but Victoria could hear it as if it Albert had shouted it. She looked up at him from her tears and smiled in a bittersweet manner. "My darling."

"Albert...This is worse than death, why must you leave me so?" Victoria asked and Albert sighed in resignation, tilting his head to the side to get a better look of Victoria.

"If I had the choice, I would never-," A sharp pain struck the dear Prince Consort in his legs and he cried out in agony, his cries echoing around the room. The five children winced and Victoria looked to her love, worried. Albert screwed his eyes shut, his breathing accelerating in speed. He did not want to express his pain. He wanted his final moments with his lovely wife and children to be devoid of this, but his body had other plans. He could feel Victoria's hand tighten around his own larger hand, squeezing it for reassurance. Reassurance for himself or her, he did not know.

"Can't we do anything for Papa?" Louise asked, trembling. "He's in pain."

"We've done what we could." Affie responded, "I'm sorry, Louise." He crouched down to the young girl and brushed off any of her tears, but his own eyes betrayed the strong bravado he had tried to put forward for his family.

"Mein liebes," Albert called to Victoria, once the pain subsided, "I will never leave you. Even when I have gone off, I will never be distant." He assured as he answered her question.

"But you won't be here!" Victoria said and Albert only smiled. "I'll never see your face again. I will not wake and find you beside me, only the cold sheets. I do not know if I could live without you."

"Poetic, but you sound like a child." Albert responded, trying to lighten the mood of his dearest. It appeared to only increase her grief.

"Do not mock me while you are about to die, Albert!" She snapped, then her sobs returned. "That's...treason!" She managed to say through the sounds of her grievances. The children, despite the tears streaking down their cheeks, smiled at their father's attempt.

"Treason? For a dying man? How amusing."

"It is not a laughing matter!" Her face had reddened tenfold, if that was even possible.

"I am aware." He winced as another bout of pain came through his legs, but he bit back his cries to avoid scaring the children any further. He screwed his eyes shut and murmured, "You will live and your symphony will end with a pleasing note. I'd like my long symphony of a life to end with a beautiful note too, Victoria."

"A beautiful note that will become a sour one in my symphony, Albert." She whispered.

Albert only smiled once more and started reciting a poem from Lord Byron, rather than responding to her properly.

"So, we'll go no more a roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright."

Victoria choked on her tears, watching as Albert looked up the the ceiling as he recited the poem in verbatim.

"For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest."

Alice sobbed into Affie's chest as he stroked her back, trying to comfort her. Affie, however, could not comfort himself. Louise, Arthur, and Helena exchanged teary glances, asking unspoken questions.

'What will happen to Mama?'

'How will she function?'

'What will we do?'

"Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving,

By the light of the moon."

Albert then moved to face Victoria once more. She watched his movements as his hand rose to wipe a tear away from her wet cheeks. He kept his hand cupped around her cheek.

"I've lived a beautiful life. I've been blessed with children and with a title I could be proud of."

"Albert, please don't-" She tried to interject, but he rose his voice a slight bit to overpower her.

"I've been blessed with a sharp mind and a life that was filled with joys and miseries, but astounding nonetheless."

"Albert, you will not-"

"Most importantly, I've been blessed with you. These years we've spent together have been the only ones I would like to relive. Our marriage was the greatest achievement I have ever done. Our children were the greatest things I could ever ask for. I will expect you, my dear. I will wander the afterlife and wait for you. Perhaps I will take you away. I do not know, but I do know one thing."

"Albert-"

"Even in my deathbed," He started. Victoria's eyes widened. He was saying goodbye. This wasn't how this was supposed to be.

"Albert!" Victoria raised her own voice, but Albert only smiled again as he allowed one last shaky breath in.

"I have such sweet thoughts." His hand dropped as if a puppet master had cut his strings once he said those five simple words. Victoria's hands found his and she stared at him, her mind scrambling to realize what had just occurred.

"Is he-?" Helena did not finish her sentence. The Queen let out a loud cry, then screamed Albert's name, loud enough for the entire building to hear. Her fits of misery shook the core of each occupant, especially her children, who had not seen their mother in this much distress. There were no comforting words that could help the grieving wife.

"This is death, is it not? It has to be, otherwise I would not be feeling this pain in my chest." She said, as soft as she could muster without screaming, and looked up to her children, allowing them to see the full extend of the Queen's grief. They each took a step back in shock of the Queen's look, her light makeup that was supposed to make her look young had the opposite effect. It looked as if she had aged a millennium in a few minutes. Her whole body was shaking as she spoke these simple words:

"I am in a living hell."