He stands there, muscles tense, back turned. A thud sounds from behind him and he hears the cracking of bones. He isn't startled; for those first few moments, he doesn't even feel bad

"About time you killed me."

Slowly, Kevin Levin turns on his heel. Darkstar's body is sprawled across the concrete, a river of blood leaving a glistening trail as it leaks from his wounds. The blood is black, though. It's actually sickening.

Kevin takes a few steps forward. The abandoned factory has gone awfully quiet and the atmosphere is tense.

"Yeah?" he replies, and the sight of all that blood suddenly wants to make him vomit.

"Yeah," Darkstar repeats. "I've been trying to do it for weeks, now. Guess I wasn't even good enough for that." A few shaky coughs escape his lungs and the blood ends up on his breast.

"Didn't know you were that unhappy," Kevin remarks, eyes falling shut. This is not happening, he pleads.

But it is.

"I wasn't unhappy," Darkstar answers. "I was just trying to do the world a favor. Did you know I killed three people in the past two weeks? It's terrifying… I can't wait to get out of here."

"Can't guarantee you'll find anything much better," Kevin mutters.

"At least I'll fit in there."

Something flops in Kevin's chest and he feels terribly sick all of a sudden. He gapes at Darkstar's mangled body, the life fading out of it.

"I'm sorry," he says aloud. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have hurt you—I could have fixed you—"

Darkstar smiles weakly at that one. "We tried that, remember?"

And Kevin does remember. He remembers a thousand different times when they tried to team up: good times, bad times, and some astoundingly awkward times. But they always ended in sorrow and bloodshed and rage.

And this time, it ends in death.

"It's my own fault we never got along," Kevin presses, and he doesn't know what's making him say these things. Because it was Darkstar's fault, and they both know that.

A pause.

"Suppose we tried again." Darkstar's words are terminal; he knows he's fading fast, and proof comes with a spurt of blood that escapes through his lips and dribbles down his chin. He turns to Kevin. "This is the part where your overwhelming guilt coerces you into agreeing with me."

Kevin falls to his knees absently. "Oh my God, you're really dying."

"Glad you noticed," Darkstar answers, and Kevin smiles painfully. The sass is there, and it will be there right through to the bitter end.

"No," Kevin says, and frowns again. "Shit—no—stand up, Darkstar."

"What?"

"Stand up and punch me in the face. Quick."

"…Levin... you do realize—"

Kevin stands up and his face collapses into his palms. His breathing intensifies. "You can't die," he says quickly. "I mean, now what? What do I do?" He points an accusing finger. "You go, and now what? Now it's just me!"

"Like yang without yin," Darkstar jokes, his voice becoming faint as the rapidity of his breathing increases. The world is blurring around the edges as the life drains from his frail frame. The fighting, the warring, the days and months and years of Kevin Levin and Michael Morningstar, and for what? For this.

"Grab my hand... Levin," he says, for no reason other than want of closure. A simple handshake; that's all he wants.

Kevin glances up; his eyes are wet. He is frightened, and he can't think straight, but he knows at the core that if Michael Morningstar is one thing, it's a dishonest, energy-sucking vampire.

"Even I'm not that stupid, Darkstar," he says with a shake of the head.

Darkstar falls silent. "I understand... you don't... trust me... not... that you should. I... don't trust me... either." He is gasping for oxygen but it's far out of reach; his body is shutting down and Oh God, This Is It, He Is Dying.

"Take... my hand..." he repeats. "Levin... please..." the dry blood on his chin cracks as he forces one last charming Morningstar smile.

Kevin is reluctant, but he reaches across the threshold slowly and the boundary is broken.

"You've made me a better man, Morningstar," he finally says, and he means it.

"I know," Darkstar answers, and he forgets for a second that this man struck him down, that this man is his murderer, that this man is his enemy. Because those are all just side effects.

Side effects of Kevin Levin being his idol.

Yes; after all this time, after the destruction and disagreement and pain and puzzlement and grief, Kevin has become the very embodiment of what Darkstar himself could have been. And now, defeated and nearing the end of everything, he can draw a single conclusion: he has provided for the betterment of someone he admires in a strange and dangerous and wonderful way, and because of that it's worth the pain.

But Kevin must not agree, because he's up already and on his feet, grabbing the nearest object- a rickety wooden chair- and hurling it across the vicinity. The wood splinters and cracks and collapses in a dusty heap. Kevin lets out an anguished cry and Darkstar knows that Kevin regrets what he's done.

"Do you know what happens to me when you die?!" Kevin suddenly cries, but Darkstar is far too weak to answer. Kevin just snarls. "What happens is the scales tip and the balance is gone and it's just me alone. I shouldn't have pushed it- should have let you live-"

"Selfish asshole," Darkstar mutters. "Isn't about you... I want... to... die..."

Kevin rips off Darkstar's gloves and grasps his wrist, hot skin colliding with cold.

"Takt it. Take the energy, save yourself!"

And for one glorious moment, the option is there. Life- Levin's life- his energy, proud and bold and powerful, being offered up on a silver platter. It's Darkstar's for the taking, because Kevin has finally realized that it's impossible to go on alone. Kevin and Darkstar are two sides of the same coin; he realizes that now.

So Darkstar retaliates by feebly releasing his idol's hand and smiling weakly, the glint leaving his eyes as the world fades. The last thing he registers is Kevin Levin's face, shocked and terrified and plagued with guilt. Darkstar knows now that he has done the one thing that Kevin Levin will never be able to do, and that is to move on; to move on from an infatuation disguised as rivalry and carried out like revenge, but which is so much deeper at the core. Time has caused their relationship to change, to mold; layers have been built up over time, only to be scratched and torn away before being plastered back on under a different name. Enemy, friend, rival, ally, villain, hero, devil, angel, the list has been tumultuous, always changing, but never disappearing completely. Because as the years have worn on it has become more than just skin-deep. They both know that a part of Kevin will go on when Darkstar does, simply because they have made the mistake of letting themselves be defined by the other.

And now Darkstar will move on and Kevin will be left behind to find his way; Kevin hasn't just killed Darkstar, he has killed a part of himself. Darkstar is the part of Kevin's life that makes him seem better than he actually is; he is the evil that heightens the good in Kevin, the darkness that brightens the light Kevin gives off. Kevin said it himself- Darkstar has made him a better man. But in all honesty, he hasn't actually made him better. He has only made him appear better. Michael "Darkstar" Morningstar is crucial to the way Kevin Levin is presented. And now Kevin has destroyed an essential portion of his own identity.

The world fades from gray to black to white to a million different colors, and as Michael Morningstar lays bloodied and mauled and mangled on the concrete he knows- he knows- that he has not been defeated. No. Here, where everything ends, he has not been defeated at all.

Oops. My hand slipped and I wrote a Levinstar analysis. Leave a review? (And then go write something for these two, the archives are starved of Mike Morningstar right now.)