Far Too Young To Die

Give me one last kiss

While we're

Far too young to die

Warning: Major character death(s) and suicide do occur during this story.

Note: The song at the beginning and end of the story is Far Too Young To Die by Panic! At The Disco- /watch?v=0f71XfN_DLI

I strongly recommend that you listen to it because the ending will make much more sense

"I'm so sorry. There's nothing we can do about it."

Those were the words that had been echoing off the walls of Feliciano's mind for the last hour.

Sorry

Nothing we can do about it

Nothing

Nothing

It made Feliciano want to scream, to kick the wall, to break every last one of those horrid picture frames hanging on the sick green walls in the waiting room.

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do about it?! You're the doctor! You're supposed to know how! Fix him!" He had yelled at the doctors until he couldn't anymore, until his voice had simply stopped working.

After he had tired himself out, he buried his face in his brother's shirt, his sobs barely audible, but he made sure he was just loud enough for everyone to hear him and bring out the guilt of every single person in the room. That was what Feliciano wanted; he wanted them to feel bad.

It had been nearly an hour since he had heard those words.

I'm sorry.

It wasn't an apology, it was a condolence, and that was the last thing Feliciano wanted to hear at the moment.

The minute those words escaped the doctor's lips, Feliciano could feel the world crumbling around him. He could feel his knees weaken, and as he slowly sank to the ground, the possibilities had already started to creep into his mind. He had always let his imagination get the best of him, and it was never a bad thing before, but now Feliciano didn't want to think anymore. He wished he could shut off his brain and all of his thoughts or simply not exist at all.

The one person he loved more than anything was nothing but a memory, just ten years of Feliciano's life that was dead now, gone, and nothing mattered anymore.

He knew that he shouldn't think like this. Of course there were still a couple things that mattered to him. Lovino was still there for him, but Feliciano couldn't bring himself to lift his head because he didn't want to see his brother, the brother that had always hated him. Even if he had comforted him, Feliciano could tell that it was purely out of guilt and nothing else.

Even though Lovino knew that this was partly his fault, he would never admit it. This made Feliciano even more distant from him. He was in his arms right now, but he had never felt further away from his own brother.

He let the tears fall from his bloodshot eyes, letting them stain Lovino's shirt. Now you'll always have a reminder of what you've done.

Feliciano knew he shouldn't blame Lovino for everything, but it was hard not to. It was hard not to look for a scapegoat at a time like this. Feliciano would never face the fact that this was partly his fault too. If he hadn't let Ludwig leave then…

No. It's not my fault. But it is my fault. No, it's not. This is all your fault and you know it. Feliciano had been hosting this mental battle in his own mind since the second the bullet had left the gun.

He let the previous events preceding Ludwig's murder run through his mind. He tried to push those memories away, but his efforts were pointless. He remembered everything too clearly, the details all too fresh in his mind for happening more than two hours ago. Everything replayed like a movie in his head. He could see himself, yelling at Ludwig to come back, to forgive him for his stupid mistakes, but Ludwig didn't want to hear it. He had apologized for Lovino's rudeness several times, and his own stupidity even more, but apparently Ludwig didn't want to hear the sincerity in his voice when he pleaded him to stay for just one more night, when he said he couldn't live without him.

If Feliciano could've just kept Ludwig in his living room for a few more minutes, this wouldn't be happening. Sure Ludwig would've left him, but he would still be alive. If that's what his life cost, then Feliciano would gratefully pay the price.

He remembered the murderer's awful voice, raspy from years of smoking God knows what. Feliciano didn't know the man that took Ludwig from him, but Ludwig showed the slightest signs of recognition in his expression when he looked at the armed man.

All he had wanted was money, but apparently that's not what he thought Ludwig was pulling out of his pocket. He shot him, turning to run before the bullet even embedded itself in Ludwig's chest.

Feliciano remembered the sound of Lovino's footsteps and the sound of his own voice yelling for help, for anyone to help, but no one did because there was no one around that late. The only one was Lovino, who had heard Feliciano yelling and nearly fainted at the sight of his little brother on top of the man he hated covered in blood.

Feliciano's shirt was still covered in that blood—Ludwig's blood—that had probably dried when they were driving to the hospital in Lovino's convertible, clearly breaking the speed limit.

But those silly laws didn't matter to Feliciano at a time like this. If someone could break the law by shooting his boyfriend, then it was only fair that Feliciano got to break a few himself. He nearly crashed the car when his eyes became too blurry with tears to even distinguish the road from the sidewalk, and the sidewalk from the yards of the houses they passed. Hell, he couldn't even distinguish the houses from the orange and pink sunset-lit sky surrounding them.

Lovino was yelling at him the entire way to the hospital, but Feliciano couldn't make out what he was saying over the rushing in his head. Everything just seemed so far away and unrealistic, like this was all just a dream or one of those nightmares that woke Feliciano up in the middle of the night, covering him in sweat and forcing tortured screams to escape his throat.

However, this time it wasn't a nightmare, and he wouldn't be able to wake up and escape. This time he wouldn't have Ludwig there to comfort him and lull him back to sleep. It was Feliciano's turn to help Ludwig, who was now whiter than the mess of snowflakes falling on Feliciano's shoulders as he drove.

Feliciano couldn't think about it anymore. He didn't want to remember the lifelessness of Ludwig's limp body when the paramedics came and rushed him into the hospital, but it was too late, so he sat in the chair in the waiting room, thinking about those words.

Nothing

There was nothing they could do about it. Yeah, right. There was plenty they could do, but there was nothing that Feliciano could afford. It made him sick. Money shouldn't matter when someone's life was on the line.

Nothing

There was nothing they could do. Of course there wasn't, not when Ludwig was already dead, or so they said.

"Feli," said an all-too-familiar, deep voice. Feliciano didn't respond or look up from the pattern of the carpet that he was studying intensely.

"Feli," Lovino repeated, now sitting in the chair next to him. The uniform chairs in the waiting room were all made of a deep blue fabric, peppered with multicolored polka dots. They looked like something that would be in a picture book for children, and normally the cheerful colors would make Feliciano very happy, but not right now. They just reminded him of the seats on the bus where he had first met Ludwig.

"Feli," Lovino said again, and this time Feliciano looked up at him. He wasn't shocked to see that Lovino looked exhausted; dealing with Feliciano must've taken a toll on him. "You can't stay here forever, fratello."

"But I don't want to leave Ludwig."

"Ludwig is gone, Feli. Now man up. Go home."

Feliciano hated the harshness in Lovino's tone, but what he was saying was true. Ludwig was gone, and Feliciano should probably go home. But when did Feliciano ever do what he was supposed to?

"No. I want to see Ludwig again."

"You can't. They're examining his body right now."

With that, Feliciano started to cry again. It shouldn't be "Ludwig's body." It should be Ludwig. Not just another dead person, but a mind and soul that was no longer on Earth. Feliciano didn't want to say Ludwig was in a better place because he didn't want to believe that Ludwig had anything better than Feliciano.

"Don't cry. Crying will only make it worse," Lovino said as he took Feliciano into his arms again, but he only hugged him. He didn't say or do anything to even try to make Feliciano feel better.

"Now let's go home."

"No. Lovi, I don't want to go. Please don't let Ludwig die."

"He's already dead, Feli. Now let's go." Lovino let go of Feliciano and stood up, expecting his brother to follow.

But Feliciano didn't stand up. He stayed in the chair, tears still making tracks in the dirt and sweat that had accumulated on his face. Leave it to Feliciano to get dirt all over his face in a clean hospital waiting room. "He's not dead Lovi. They made a mistake. He's alive. I know it."

"There's no mistake. He's gone. Now come on." Lovino grabbed Feliciano's hand, which was covered in tears and sweat from rubbing his eyes, and pulled him out of his chair. "Don't be such a baby."

"I'm not," Feliciano pouted. "How would you feel if Antonio was in Ludwig's position?"

Lovino dropped, or more accurately, threw Feliciano's hand down. "Don't ever say that."

"Why not? Because it won't ever happen. That's what I thought about Ludwig. I thought that we would be happy together forever, but then you had to barge into my room. You could've knocked."

"I wish I knocked. Then I could spare myself from the images that are now permanently ingrained in my mind." Lovino shuttered, and Feliciano continued to glare at him.

"Is everything a joke to you? Do you even care about how I'm feeling right now?"

"Yes. I do. This is why I told ten years ago to not get involved with that man. Remember? I told you that you would end up getting hurt."

"That was ten years ago!" Feliciano had raised his voice, which had attracted the attention of several others in the waiting room. He looked around, not really caring about the looks he was getting. "It doesn't matter anymore! I'm leaving!"

"Good." Lovino followed Feliciano out of the room and into the parking lot, where Lovino's car sat, still uncovered. They had forgot to put the top back up, and there were snowflakes still sprinkling the seats.

"You forgot to close the top, idiota."

"I guess I was more worried about my dying boyfriend," Feliciano spat back. He wanted to strangle Lovino at the moment, but he was more worried about getting home.

"Whatever." Lovino opened the door to the driver's side and got in. Feliciano opened the other door and threw himself down on one of the wet seats. Lovino started the car and they drove off without saying another word to each other.

Feliciano was glad when Lovino finally left his house. All he wanted was to be alone right now. Actually, what he really wanted was Ludwig, but that was impossible.

He didn't know what to do, so he sat on his couch and stared at the wall across from him. The light pink paint reminded him of a shirt that he bought for Ludwig. He only wore it once, but Feliciano didn't mind because he knew that Ludwig wore it because Feliciano had wanted him to.

He tried so hard to push away the thought of never seeing Ludwig again. He couldn't bear that pain right now.

That's when an idea popped into his head. Maybe he could see Ludwig again.

He got up and ran to his bathroom. He barely recognized the man he saw staring back at him when he looked in the mirror. His normally luminescent auburn hair was dull and more dirt-colored than ever before, and the stray, spring-like curl that always refused to lay flat on his head was nowhere to be seen. It must have assimilated with the rest of his hair. His eyes no longer resembled stars, like they usually did, but were more like flickering lightbulbs, slowly dying and doomed to eventually give their last burst of light before becoming dark forever. He thought it was strange how much his appearance could change within mere hours. Soon none of that would matter, though, because he would be with Ludwig.

He opened his cabinet. There were plenty of bottles lazily scattered on the shelves: pain medication, anxiety medicine that Feliciano forgot to take unless Ludwig reminded him to, cough syrup, Ludwig's prescription pills–Ludwig never told Feliciano what they were for and would change the subject whenever he was asked– and many other ailments that they had accumulated over the years of living together. He searched through the cabinet, trying to find the right bottle. Then he saw it. He grabbed the container that was nearly full and read the label.

Pain Relief PM®

He opened the bottle and poured several into his hand, and looked at the warnings on the back.

-Do not take with alcohol

-Do not take more than 4000 mg within 24 hours

That was exactly what he was going to do. He figured it would take around 20 pills to do significant damage, so that's how many he grabbed. He took the pills with him to the kitchen, where he ran to the fridge and reached for the bottle of whiskey Ludwig kept hidden on top of it. He poured a glass and popped a pill in his mouth, then took a drink of whiskey and cringed. He had always hated the taste, but anything to get him to Ludwig faster was worth it. He did this with five or so more pills before he started to feel a bit drowsy. That's when he realized he had forgotten to write a note. That's what people did right? They left notes? So he scrambled through the junk in several different drawers until his search resulted in a red pen and a small, crumpled piece of paper. That would have to do. He started writing, but his skill was greatly affected by the alcohol and drugs in his system. He tried to make his handwriting as neat as he could, but it was really hard when the paper seemed to be shaking. Or was it his hand that was shaking? He couldn't tell, so he kept writing to the best of his ability.

Dear Fratello,

I hope you don't care that I'm dead. It would be best for the both of us if you don't make a big deal out of this. You always knew I was weak. You always knew I wouldn't be able to handle something like this. I will be happier where I'm going. I'll be with Ludwig and Grandpa. You don't need me, but they do. So don't worry. I will always love you.

~Feliciano

It was barely legible, and it was a short note for something so complicated. It was only specifically addressed to Lovino, but Feliciano didn't care. He didn't have anyone else he wanted to say goodbye to. Little time wasted now would mean more time he got with Ludwig.

He left the note on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottle, the rest of the alcohol now residing in the glass, which was in Feliciano's pill-free hand. He popped another couple pills into his mouth and took another big gulp of the whiskey. He nearly puked, but he forced himself to keep it down. Throwing up would only hinder his progress, therefore keeping him from seeing Ludwig.

There were only three more pills to take. Feliciano was three pills away from Ludwig, from his Grandpa, from his mother, from everyone he had loved and lost. He took those three pills and stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom. He couldn't keep himself upright anymore, and his vision was blurry, so he crashed onto the bed.

He rolled over to Ludwig's side. The pillows and blankets still smelled like him. He inhaled deeply before rolling back to his side of the bed. He waited for the permanent slumber called death to claim him. He nearly closed his eyes, but they flew back open when he saw something move in the corner of the room. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and he struggled to keep them open, just for another minute.

Feliciano was right about seeing something move. He saw a figure step out from the darkness of the shadows, and he didn't care if it was real or not because it was Ludwig. It was his Ludwig. The German stepped over to Feliciano and laid down next to him on the bed.

Well I never really thought that you'd come tonight

"L-Ludwig?" Feliciano knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was hallucinating, but it didn't matter because Ludwig was with him, and he was alive.

"Feli. What have you done?"

"I-I did th-this for you, Ludwig. I-I love you."

While the crown hangs heavy on either side

"No. Oh no. Feli. Why?" Ludwig reached his hand up to cup Feliciano's face, something he had done so many times before. Although Feliciano couldn't feel Ludwig's hand on his face, it still made him feel better.

"B-because I l-love you. D-don't you love me?" Feliciano was crying now, his eyes burning and blurry. He could barely see Ludwig, who was now nothing more than a pale figure.

"I do love you Feli, but I must go." Ludwig leaned closer to Feliciano and kissed him. Feliciano wanted nothing more than to kiss back, but he no longer had the strength to move.

Give me one last kiss

"D-don't go. Ludwig."

And Ludwig said something, but Feliciano only heard his voice because his eyelids had become too heavy to hold open anymore, and they forced themselves shut.

"Goodbye Feli."

"S-see you later, Ludwig."

While we're far too young to die

Then there was nothing.

We're far too young to die