I've been working on the next chapters of Silent HeartBeats and Dreaming of Shadows lately, but I've been getting caught by facebook games, and I'm sorry. I hope that you enjoy this is a sequel to 'Paper Wishes', back in December. Please read and review.

It was summer.

The courtyard was green, and beautiful. It was still early enough in the summer that the trees were still the fresh, new green of fresh life. Nothing was dusty yet, nothing was dry. It was beautiful.

The beauty was missed by the boy sitting on one of the wooden benches, pushed up against a tree. The branches of the tree above him hung low, as if wanting to comfort the boy. But he didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on the book laying open on his knees. He swallowed and fought back the urge to cry once more.

He had gotten a letter. It was short. And it broke his heart even more. Allen shut his book slowly and set it down beside him on the bench. His eyes traveled up, to look around the hospital courtyard. Just five months before, he had watched a family build snowmen. Just five months before, Kanda had come home to him.

But the joy that came with the return of his fiance was brief, and short, and bittersweet. Kanda had to go back to the front lines. The front lines, where the danger of being killed was even greater. The front lines, it was going to claim Kanda's life. That was Allen's worst fear.

Allen slid the letter from out of the front of his book and unfolded the weather beaten paper carefully. It crackled, like it would crumble any moment, and Allen didn't want that to happen, so he handled it with great care. It was a letter from Kanda.

Five months before, when Kanda had come back, he had stayed for two weeks. Those weeks were some of the happiest weeks of Allen's life. He felt stronger, just being with Kanda. And then the order came to him, the order that he was to go back to the battle field. That he needed to rejoin the troops. That he was going to leave Allen.

But there was a silver lining to that letter. Kanda's term was coming to an end, and he was going to be allowed to come home. In May, when the trees would be green and the flowers would be blooming, and Allen would wait, patiently, for his love to return to him.

Allen turned his head a little, feeling the thick canvas-y fabric of the uniform jacket that Kanda had left him with, to take care of. It was draped across his shoulders, keeping him comfortably warm. He inhaled deeply. Kanda's smell had faded almost so that he could no longer get comfort from the jacket, but he always kept it close, always keeping it around his shoulders.

And since he was sensitive against temperature, the doctors had thought it was a good idea for him to have that jacket.

Allen had waited for Kanda, had waited for him to return, but his hope faded slowly, like the familiar scent of his love from the uniform jacket. Because his condition was getting worse. He rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears that had started to form.

He didn't think Kanda would come back in time. One of them would be dead. Or both of them would be dead. Kanda, taken in the field, protecting his country and his love. Allen, taken by the battle that raged within him.

Allen doubled over, burying his face in the blanket that covered his knees and started to cry. The letter that he had been holding fluttered down to the grass beside Allen's feet, laying open. The young man opened his eyes slightly and looked at the letter. The writing, in Kanda's familiar scrawl, was light. The letter had been through a lot.

He reread it through his tears.

Dear Allen,

I'm sorry. I didn't think this would happen, but I should've expected it. They're calling me back. I can't come home yet. I'm sorry.

Love,

Kanda.

When he had first opened it, he had turned it over, to see if there was anything on the back, if that was all that Kanda had written. And it was. He had broken down. He thought he was going to finally be able to be with Kanda, even for a little bit.

Before he was taken by his sickness.

This thought made him bite down hard on his lip, keeping in the small sob. He hadn't told Kanda about that yet. He hadn't written to him, telling him that he had gotten weaker. That the time he had was running out quicker than they had thought. After that letter, still laying in the grass by his feet, had come, he had fallen into a state of despair and hadn't been able to focus long enough to write a letter.

Slowly, he sat up. He needed to write to Kanda. He needed to make sure that Kanda knew he loved him. He needed to tell Kanda that he was still waiting. And he needed to tell Kanda that his time was running out, like an hour glass, the sand trickling down at a steady pace.

He picked up the worn letter and slipped it back into his book for protection.

"Allen, are you ready to come inside?" Matron asked him kindly, coming up to him. Allen glanced up at her and gave a small nod.

"Yeah...Yeah I'm ready to go inside..." he murmured. She helped him back into his wheelchair and let him get situated before heading inside with him. He pulled Kanda's jacket more closely around himself, burying his face in the fabric. Even though the scent was nearly gone, if he tried really hard, he could still remember the scent, and he could remember Kanda's strong arms around him. Kanda had been wearing the jacket that time.

Matron left him alone, knowing he did not want company, and Allen was glad that she understood. He moved to the desk and got several sheets of paper from the drawer. It was nice paper, smooth and pale ivory in color. He got his pen, the one Lavi had gotten for him, and started to write.

o.0.o

A knock at his room made him look up and around. It was only then that he realized he had spent longer than expected to write the letter, and when he glanced out the window he could see the sun heading through its path down to the horizon slowly, yet steadily. Whoever it was knocked again, a little louder than the first time.

"Come in..." he said softly, but he knew that they'd be able to hear him.

"Hey sprout..." It was Lavi, his normal grin curving his lips. "How're you doing?"

Allen looked at him for a long moment, eyes clouded. Lavi's grin slid and he went to him. "Allen, what's wrong?" Silently, the silver haired young man handed Lavi the short letter he had gotten from Kanda. It took Lavi about five seconds to read it and then he looked up. "I'm sorry," he said. "He'll come home though. You know he will. He's too stubborn to die."

"...But Lavi..." Allen breathed, and his voice was weak and hopeless. "...What if I don't last long enough?"

Lavi fell silent, lines appearing on his forehead as he frowned, looking a bit confused. "What're you talking about, Sprout? You still have years..."

"...Y-you haven't been here since...It's just...Lavi, my condition has gotten worse!" He broke down, face hidden in Kanda's jacket. "I-I don't know h-how much more time I have!" Lavi looked shocked and worried, then knelt beside Allen and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. Allen looked at him slowly.

"You'll see him again, Allen," he said firmly. "Kanda will get home, for you, to see you, to marry. He isn't one to break promises like that."

"...He's broken two..." Allen breathed.

"That's because the military is made up of horrible people who aren't worried about others. I know that Kanda would much rather be with you than fighting in this war," Lavi explained. This calmed Allen and he swallowed, forcing back his tears and the way his throat tightened. He took a slow breath and felt much better.

"...Thanks..." he murmured. "I'll wait for him...I know he'll come back."

He folded the ivory paper into thirds. "Can you send this out?" he asked handing it to Lavi.

Lavi took the letter and nodded. "I'll send it out when I leave," he said. He would take care of the envelope and the stamp, sending it to the military. He knew that it would be read, before giving it off to Kanda. Lavi would try to pull some strings, and get it to Kanda faster than normal.

"Thank you," Allen said. "I want to get to my bed..." Lavi hooked him under his arm and took him to his bed. Allen thanked him again as he got situated, sitting on top of the blankets. It was too hot for blankets, so he stayed above them.

He closed his eyes, wishing that Kanda was back.

o.0.o

Kanda leaned back against the canvas of the tent, glad that his uniform jacket was thick, and that the canvas had been oiled, so that the rain pounding down outside was shedding off it like it did on the back of a swan. He pushed a strand of hair from his face, one of the only strands not clumped together by mud or sweat or blood. He grunted in pain as the surgeon touched his leg.

"Just stick me up already," he snapped at the man. "So that I can go back and fight."

"Don't rush me," the doctor snapped back and Kanda fell silent, although the muscle in his jaw was twitching as he clenched his teeth together. Damn this. It hurt. "Don't you have something to look forward to getting back? If you rush me you might not get back."

Allen. He stayed silent, not responding to the doctor. He did need to get back. He needed to get back, because he had promised Allen that he would. God this hurt. He would be lucky to be able to walk without a crutch or a cane, which he told himself would never happen. He wasn't a cripple.

Pain shot through his leg, up through his hips and then through out his body. Whatever that damned doctor had just done, it hurt more than the jagged wound that decorated his leg. By now, that had become numb, from the pain, and from the fact that he was still losing blood. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes against the pain as it burned through him like fire.

He didn't feel the needle as it slid through his skin, the doctor finally starting to sew closed the wound that he had gotten in battle.

"Damn this rain..." he heard the doctor mutter under his breath. The nurse beside him agreed. It was less sanitary, less healthy, harder to take care of wounded officers, especially when the bottom of the hospital tent was starting to flood. All of the medical supplies that had been on the ground were now on the empty bed beside Kanda.

There had been another soldier there just an hour ago. Kanda had watched as he had bled to death from a shrapnel injury. He had been carried out on a stretcher, out to where the other dead bodies were, dumped into the pile as if they were nothing more than sacks of sand. They were being used to keep some of the water out. It disgusted Kanda.

Distracting himself from what was happening was the only thing that he could do to stop the wave of pain from overcoming him completely. He would not be one of those men, screaming in pain and loss, no longer having a reason to fight, no longer wanting to fight. He gritted his teeth against the darkness, against the black, and thought of silver.

Allen. Allen was silver. He was his light, he was his star. And he would be seeing him again. He would. He had promised, and if he had to walk back home, he would, just to see that boy smile again. He wondered if he forgave him, for not being able to come home.

He let out a small cold laugh from the back of his throat and the doctor glanced at him, stilling his hands from the steady stitching, to see if this soldier had cracked. But Kanda's eyes were clear, although anger and dark amusement had flooded them.

"Maybe I'll be sent back," he said, loud enough for the doctor to hear over the pounding rain. But those words were only meant for him. "Maybe I'll be discharged."

The doctor didn't respond. He was thinking clearly, so there was no point in getting worried. He focused on the task at hand, and Kanda again tried to forget that a needle was being applied to his open wound.

"Sir!"

Kanda did not look around. This young private was probably talking to the doctor. "A letter, sir, for Yu Kanda. I was told he was here." Kanda's slightly glazed eyes flickered up to look at the young man. A letter for him?

He grunted and lifted an arm, signaling to the private to get over here, to give it to him. The young soldier hurried over and handed the letter to him before hurrying off. Probably had more letters to deliver.

Glad to now have something solid to focus on, Kanda looked at the front. He recognized Lavi's handwriting instantly, neat, clear, bookish. But the return address was Allen. It was from Allen. He ripped it open and nearly ripped the letter in half in his haste. Careful now, not wanting to miss anything that his love wrote to him.

Kanda could barely feel the needle entering and exiting his leg now. His entire attention was focused on the letter. Allen never sent letters, mostly because it was such a hard thing to do. But apparently Lavi had pulled some strings for him again. He made a note to himself to thank the red headed idiot when he returned home.

The paper had been protected by the thick envelope, and was still in its best. As he unfolded it, he was surprised at himself: his hands were trembling. He ran a finger down the familiar handwriting before he started to read. It was a relief to see it, and it made his hopes soar.

But his mood dampened swiftly as he started to read. The last letter he had received from Allen had been full of longing, but he sounded happy enough, not miserable, not too lonely. This letter cried out with despair and hopelessness.

Worse. Allen was getting worse.

That couldn't be happening. How could Allen's condition be getting worse? During his last visit, at christmas, he had gotten better. He had improved while he was there, and he had noticed a visible difference in how pale and how weak he had been. He had been stronger.

Allen didn't know how long he had. It was that worse?

He gritted his teeth and tossed his matted hair over his shoulder, letting out a grunt of pain as he jostled his leg. He needed to get back. He couldn't leave Allen there alone, waiting for him to return, until he died. He had promised that he would come back.

"I need to get home," he grunted, eyes flickering to the doctor. He hadn't finished stitching him up yet. "I need to. Let me out of here, so I can get home." And with that, Kanda moved, trying to get up off of the bed, away from the doctor who was still sewing the jagged hole in his leg up.

"What the hell are you doing? Get back down! I haven't finished!" the doctor said, shocked.

"Need to get home, don't you understand? I need to. And you're not helping me!" Kanda's voice was deadly sharp. But so was the scalpul that the doctor had been using to clean up some of the more ripped up parts of Kanda's leg. As Kanda swung his legs down, his feet splashing into the puddles that had flooded the infirmary, the blade cut several of the stitches and into his skin. As he stood a wave of pain and dizziness overcame him.

"I need...to get back to him...Allen..." he grunted out, and staggered. Why was everything spinning? And it hadn't been night, so then why was everything getting so dark. Kanda fell back onto the bed as everything went black.

o.0.o

Allen was sick. Very sick. He hadn't done anything different. But he had gotten a cold, and then it progressed into a fever, and now it was on the verge of very dangerous. He was asleep at the moment, but he was being tormented by nightmares.

The nightmares chased him through his own mind and made him flinch in his sleep, panting and flushed from the fever that had a strong hold on his frail body. It was consuming him, and Allen didn't seem to be strong enough to fight back. He was too weak, too hopeless.

Lavi watched him from where he sat beside the bed. Worry was painted across his features. The doctors had done all they could for him, but Lavi was debating on calling them back, to check on the boy. Because he seemed worse than before. He got up from the chair and went to him, touching his forehead.

It was hot, and moist. Allen let out a soft whimper in his sleep. He was losing his battle. Lavi took his hand, wishing that his little brother was strong enough to pull through, strong enough to fight against the nightmares. But Kanda wasn't here. And Kanda was Allen's strength, just as much as Allen was Kanda's. And the boy needed him.

Lavi called the doctor.

It turned out that Allen had indeed gotten worse. The doctor gave him another shot, hoping to reduce the fever. It was getting dangerous for Allen. The doctor put ice around the boy. His temperature cooled a little.

"...Lavi..." Allen said weakly, eyes partially open. They glittered with sickness.

"Yeah, little brother...yeah, I'm here," Lavi said and sat down in the chair, so that Allen could see him. He took the boys hand.

"...Is Kanda..."

Lavi shook his head. "I'm sorry, sprout. He's not here yet..."

Tears started to roll down Allen's cheeks and he closed his eyes. He couldn't fight this for much longer, not without Kanda. His body was going to lose this battle, and he wasn't going to be able to see Kanda ever again.

All Lavi could do was smooth Allen's hair back and hold his hand and hope that Kanda had gotten that letter, hope that he would do all that he could to get back to his dying love before it was too late. Finally, Allen fell asleep once more. His fever had fallen some, and the doctors were hopeful.

Lavi didn't know though. If Allen got sick again, sick like this, he wouldn't be strong enough to fight it, even if Kanda came back. Kanda could only help him so much.

"Hey babe," a familiar voice said behind him and he looked up to see Tyki. He smiled and got up.

"Hey..." he said and hugged him, resting his forehead against Tyki's collarbone. He sighed, shutting out the darkness of Allen and his condition with the scent of Tyki's cologne.

"Hard day?" he asked and he could smell the faint scent of tobacco on his boyfriends breath.

"You were smoking again," Lavi said sharply, frowning a little. Tyki nodded and looked a bit apologetic. "But yeah...hard day. Allen's fever has finally gone down...It was getting dangerously high."

Tyki ran a hand through Lavi's hair.

"It's time to come home," Tyki said. Lavi looked at him, then looked at Allen. His eyes were closed and his chest was moving evenly up and down, up and down. "He'll be alright."

"Yes," Lavi said and followed Tyki out, liking the way he had an arm around his waist.

Allen opened his eyes when the door had been closed. "...I wish I could go home," he whispered. "Like you...Lavi, you don't know how j-jealous I am of you..." he closed his eyes and cried himself to sleep. He felt like he was breaking, like he was breaking apart and drifting away. His body felt so weak.

o.0.o

Allen sat by the window in his wheelchair, blanket over his knees. He couldn't cry anymore, but his eyes were red and his cheeks were pale. He had lost a lot of color in the past few days, a long with a lot of weight. He was now too thin to be healthy, and that wasn't helping his condition.

He stared unseeingly out of the window, out at the green courtyard. His eyes were glazed so he didn't see the dark haired figure who slipped through the others walking in and out of the hospital. He just continued to stare, a small sob trying to break from his throat.

"...Oh...Kanda..." he whispered, closing his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. It left a salt trail that glistened on his skin.

"What is it?"

Allen's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. He didn't want to turn around. But he did. He turned the wheelchair around slowly. Even this small motion was hard for him in his weakened state. "...Kanda?"

"Who'd you expect?" It was him. It was really him. Allen just stared, lips slightly parted, at his love, who stood silhouetted in the doorway. He looked a bit worse for wear, dark bruising around his left eyebrow and forehead. But he was there. Allen mouthed emptily, letting out a small choking noise.

"You look thin..." Kanda said softly and walked across the room.

The first thing Allen noticed when Kanda walked, was that he was limping. Not badly, but enough that it was noticeable. Allen's eyes were wide and his lips trembled. "...Yu...y-you're...limping," he said softly.

Kanda didn't respond, but knelt before him, taking his hand. "And you're pale..." he said. "...Moyashi..."

Allen burst into tears and fell into Kanda's arms. "You're alive. You're back. Oh god...you're back. Kanda...there's a bruise on your head and your limping! What d-did you do?" Kanda wrapped his arms around and picked him up. He was shocked and worried at how light he was. He settled down onto the bed, cuddling Allen like a small child.

"It's not bad," Kanda said. He handed Allen an envelope, which the silver haired young man took with a confused expression. He unfolded it slowly.

"...Honorably discharged? You're...you're out?" Allen asked, touching his cheek. "You're..."

"And..." he handed him another piece of paper.

"A house?" he gasped softly.

"For us. For both of us..." Kanda said, cupping the boys cheek. He leaned down and kissed him gently. "You're going to come home with me."

Please review. Thanks for reading. I want to know what you thought. (Pardon any mistakes I've made, I'm human, and slight OOC)