I Will Be With You
He doesn't know how he got here. His mind is blurred, torn at the seams and thrown away. He can't stand, speak or see properly, either, which doesn't help at all, but he knows he'll figure something out sooner or later. For now, he's just going to stare at his hands, unable to put the pieces together. He doesn't know what's happening, or what has already happened. He knows he'll regret it, though.
From what he can see, his hands are covered in something. It's warm, but thick and uncomfortable. He wants it off, flowing quickly down the drain with water, clearing it from him completely.
He attempts to stand, but slips and lands on his hands and knees, proceeding to splatter the liquid onto his face too. No, get it away. He scrambles back, scrubbing at his face, but that only spreads it more and he lets out a strangled cry.
That's when he notices something slumped in the corner and gets to his knees, crawling over to the figure and realizing it's his boyfriend.
Or was.
He stares before he screams, shaking the lifeless body hopelessly. This couldn't be real, this was a bad dream, a really really bad one, right? He sobs the man's name, the blood mixing with tears as they trickled into his mouth at the corners. He notices the blood seeping through his boyfriend's shirt and he rips it with shaking hands, crying harder at the numerous bullet wounds spread across his once perfect, pale skin. This can't be real, he thinks desperately.
He looks around, examining the gun near to where he was sat just moments ago, clueless. He eyes it hazily before pulling himself up and unsteadily stumbling over to get it before he curls up in his dead lover's lap. There's one bullet left.
He presses the gun to his temple. He doesn't know why he's here, what he's done and he never will. A siren whines nearby. I will be with you. He whispers before he pulls the trigger, and the world goes black.