Disclaimer: Well this is a real life one so I don't know what to put for a disclaimer- I don't own Noel Fielding or Julian Barratt? Yeah, that works. I don't own Noel Fielding or Julian Barratt. They are their own persons. God, my heart just broke…. :-/

Summary: Noel would like to believe Julian hadn't left him for good. Yet that faraway fantasy seemed too distant for any sense of reality to come close to him. Nolian I suppose in a slight way. Character Death

Title: Maybe I'm a Dreamer.

He didn't like locking the door, just in case he came back. It would take a miracle to bring him back but it wouldn't be the first miracle to happen. Getting over his drug addiction and moving on was a miracle. Meeting him in the first place was a miracle. Saying goodbye without breaking down completely seemed like a big achievement. Yet the pain of memories still hung in his hear like a noose swinging depressively in the biting winter air. He longed for the feel of his lips against his when they were rehearsing for the Party episode. It wasn't a real kiss, but it had felt it. Feeling was enough as long as he believed it, correct? No, he needed it to be real. A fake kiss didn't seem like enough to fill the empty spot he'd had in his heart his entire life.

So, he left the latch on the door, unlocked. He knew he was in the middle of London where thieves stalked the streets but he couldn't handle accepting the truth… it was over. He'd always been the same scared kid who was too afraid to face the truth. He was just too stubborn. Running a hand through his jet black hair, he toppled into bed and pulled the covers over his neck. In his mind, he played out the perfect scene of him yelling through the slit of air in the slightly open door and crashing their bodies together in a close but longing hug, then sitting in front of the telly wrapped in a duvet with creamy hot chocolate and just… talking.

The cold lingered through the draughty door and through the windows. He snuggled into the cover, tear after tear dripping from his eyes as memories of them on Let's Dance for Comic Relief and memories of Boosh rehearsals swept through his mind. Tossing and turning, he screamed his name and prayed for something that was impossible. He couldn't take it, he couldn't handle it, he needed him to take him in his arms and hold him until they both fell asleep while Rich recited a stupid headline in the Chat magazine as he always did and Mike stuffed his face with the pizza they'd paid for but hadn't touched. Then they'd go their separate ways. Julian would be off home to his wife, Noel would sit in a silence that seemed to last an eternity. But then his latest girlfriend would return and he wouldn't feel so lonely. Yet for Noel Camden dolly-birds were not enough and their nightly activities were forgotten by morning when he didn't want her anymore.

He stood, his frozen feet finally touching the even colder hard wood floor of his London flat. His feet swept gracefully across the floor, one step after another in a perfect rhythm. Tears plagued his blue, blood-shot eyes and sent streams of pain cascading down his porcelain cheeks. When he reached the door, his fingers smoothed over the door-knob as his other hand lingered on the back of the doorframe. He was quivering from the cold with each shaking breath turning white in the air.

"Why? Why did you leave me Ju? We were happy, we had always been happy! Every single photo of us we were smiling, well in one I was asleep but you were smiling. I need you Ju; I need you now just as much as I did when I was going through my addiction. I don't know why you left. It wasn't you're time, I thought we'd have so much longer to make up for the shit I'd done, for the times I'd fucked up but then you abandoned me and now I don't know what to do! Can you hear me? Speak to me you little fucker! I love you, I always did! I can't pretend I didn't and I lied to you. All those times you were holding Julia I wished you were holding me! Julian? I need you more than ever, Julian please!"

Silence.

His knees crashed to the floor and he curled up in a heap on the floor, allowing his tear soaked hand to brush through his hair and mix the crystal droplets with hair dye. Eventually, he stood and changed into his clothes, locking the door behind him and stepping into the cold. The frozen air bit repetitively at his skin and raised tiny lumps on his arms but he didn't care. Late night drivers passed him unknowing. He was like a ghost drifting through the darkness, trying to find a way to bring it all back. Finally, he dropped to his knees and brushed away the tiny specks of dirt that had built up over the short time the slab of granite had been stuck in the ground and recited its short but meaningful verse.

Here lies Julian Barratt Pettifer.

Beloved husband of Julia Davis,

Loved father of Arthur and Walter,

'Now safe in God's arms'

1969-2011

"I could've stopped it." Noel mumbled, wrapping his slim arms around the below freezing stone. "I should've stopped it." He mumbled again and placed a yellow rose from a nearby bush next to the huge bouquet Julia had placed there on the day he was buried. Then, he lay down next to the grave stone and let the cold rush over him. He only wished there was a way to bring back what he'd already lost but he knew deep down there wasn't.

He wished he didn't have to wake up. At least in sleep he and Julian were together, as they belonged. They were not in two completely different realms that only through death could he mend. It wasn't his fault, by any stretch of the imagination but he couldn't move this feeling of responsibility, he had to fix what he, in his mind, had destroyed. On shaking legs, he stood and stumbled through the twisting and turning roads of London. His mind was an unreadable jumble of the unthinkable. He couldn't remember what he was doing, he didn't know where he was but he continued anyway until he reached his apartment. Slamming the door behind him, he made his way to the kitchen and pulled open one of the draws that encased an extremely sharp knife Julian had got one Christmas to cut the Turkey. He'd said that Noel's plastic Bob the Builder cutlery would snap like a twig. The moon shone through his window and sent his shadow skidding across the floor and curving up the walls. He grasped the blade and stared at it. Could he? Would he? He let the metal touch his skin slightly, running it lightly over his forearm. The sharp pain was like ecstasy to him. He had to do it, he had to save himself from the dark abyss he was lost in.

A tear dropped from his lashes, mixing with his blood on the chunk of metal. He couldn't. He wanted to but he couldn't. It was the coward's way out. He had Mike to look after, a show to run, a friend to remember. He could only imagine Mike sobbing over his coffin whilst his mother spiralled into denial and his father turned to alcohol. Their lives didn't deserve to be ruined. The knife fell to the floor and made a horrible metallic noise as it hit the grey tiles. Noel chewed on his lip and sniffled the tears back before crawling into bed and closing his eyes for the final time that night.

Sorry if its too depressing but we can't all be happy. Anyway, thank you to my wonderful BETA kbchick who took the time to read and improve my work. Leave a review and I may continue but I dunno yet. Thank you for reading it.