A few hacking coughs filled the air, quickly accompanied by loud sobs. A gentle hand was placed in the curly chestnut hair belonging to the fandom at the bedside. His small body shakes like a leaf as more choking sobs escape. The bedridden fandom removes his clawed hand, pausing to cough violently into his other.
"Hetalia," he croaks after a few seconds of silence, "Heta, could you get me a glass of water?" Hetalia looks up, then rubs at his tired red eyes.
"O-okay." He mumbles, getting up on unsteady legs.
Once he is gone, the gray skinned fandom sighs. By him stands three others. One of them, bearing a long scarf, fez, and bowtie, removes his colored spectacles and shakes his head wearily.
"It's bad, I take it?"
"...Its not the best, chap, but I'm positive I can pull you through!"
"That's... That's good to hear."
"Homestuck, you don't have to be worried, I told you, I'm not letting you die on me."
Homestuck doesn't reply, but his neon green eyes wander to the door, where Hetalia walks back in seconds later. His feet shuffle slowly, sadly. So different than the usual happy bouncing. Homestuck's throat tightens at his moirail's change in behavior.
"Here." He mumbles, handing him the glass. Homestuck takes it, offering a soft smile in return and a reassuring squeeze on his hand. Hetalia tries to smile as well, sitting back down at the bedside. The winged fandom on the far left opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it when the third places a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. A few moments of silence, only broken by Homestuck's fits of coughing. Everyone seemed to be in a solemn mood, as if the world were holding its breath.
-:-:-:-
The quiet, tense air hung, but this time it was broken by the chirping of crickets and other night sounds. Thin light strayed in through the window, just enough to illuminate the shape of the bedridden fandom, fingers running soothingly through Hetalia's chestnut hair. The three others had gone, likely to the living room to talk in hushed tones of their friend's condition. Or at least, Doctor Who and Sherlock had. The door was open in the slightest, outlining the dark feathers of Supernatural. The winged fandom stood quietly, expression unreadable as he watched the pair. After a long while, Homestuck's head rose slowly, neon green eyes glinting in the dark as they met Supernatural's. The two held each other's gaze until finally Homestuck shifted, motioning him over. With a hesitant glance behind him, Supernatural shuffled into the room, stopping by the bed, uncertain eyes narrowed on the troll. Then Homestuck speaks up, breaking the thick silence with a tired, hoarse voice.
"You know that this is a lot worse than they're saying, right?" Supernatural blinked, then swallowed, giving an uncertain nod.
"I won't be walking away from this one," Homestuck sighed, eyes on Hetalia, who was snoring lightly in his sleep, "I'm dying."
The winged one stays quiet, not taking his eyes off the horned fandom. He spoke calmly, solemnly. Was he not afraid of death? Supernatural looked him over, perplexed, and nodded.
"I don't like you, and I know for a fact that you don't like me. " Homestuck's eyes met Supernatural's again, and he lingered for a second. "But I need you to do me a favor."
Supernatural paused. A favor...? What kind of favor? And why him of all fandoms?
"Think of it as a dying wish." Homestuck shrugged.
"What do you need?" Supernatural asked cautiously.
Homestuck was quiet for a while. He bit his lip, gaze wandering back to his moirail before meeting Supernatural's again. His eyes were clouded, hiding pain and sadness.
"...Take care of Hetalia." Supernatural stiffened, eyes wide in surprise. Whatever he expected, it wasn't that. He gave the bedridden fandom a questioning look. Homestuck nodded, looking to the sleeping fandom, and Supernatural followed his gaze. Hetalia had his head in his arms, sleeping in his position kneeling at the bedside. He stirred, expression sad, as if he was being plagued by nightmares. He let out a whimper, and Homestuck ran a hand through his hair soothingly. He relaxed, lips parted slightly as he breathed.
"He's not going to take this well." Homestuck commented, eyes kept on his moirail, hand running through the chestnut locks. Supernatural nodded, eyes softening.
"He'll be broken. Who knows what he'll do if you leave him alone." Homestuck's voice cracked. "Please, promise me you'll be there for him. Protect him. Don't let him hurt himself or others."
His neon green eyes were starting to water as he held Supernaturals gaze. Supernatural stood for a bit, unsure of what to say. He gazed back to Hetalia, sleeping peacefully. Homestuck was right, he would be inconsolable. The small fandom was weak, and without his moirail to protect him he could get hurt. Supernatural let out a sigh.
"...Why are you asking me?"
Homestuck managed a soft smile.
"We may not exactly be on the best of terms, but I trust you most with this. Besides, Doc and Sher are awesome, but I don't think I could ask them. And you have to admit we're more alike than you think." Supernatural rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips.
"Alright, I promise." He said, gaze wandering again to Hetalia.
"Thank you." Homestuck said. He gave a curt nod, as if in dismissal. Supernatural returned it, then headed out of the room to leave the horned one and his moirail alone. Homestuck sighed in the quiet, eyes on Hetalia.
"Hear that? You'll be fine." He took a shuddering breath, strange green tears falling. "You were the best moirail a troll could ask for, Heta. I promise this isn't the end."
He leaned forward, just enough brush Hetalia's bangs to the side and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Goodbye, buddy. As always, pale as hell for you."