The drive from Philadelphia to Toronto had stretched on for hours, each moment feeling like a time bomb ticking away in his chest. His thoughts had been consumed with scenarios of what he would find when he arrived home, each scenario more terrible than the last – the anticipation was eating away at him, tearing away at his sanity irrevocably. Fitz had suffered through the drive in silence, feeling too weak to do much more than keep his eyes trained on the road, the white lines painted on the road ahead of him like a map, his heart racing, its beat unceasing as it awaited the sight of the hospital. He knew his will would shatter when he laid eyes on his friend, but Fitz refused to allow his weary mind to picture what he could possibly find upon entering the hospital – he could not allow himself to think of the worst case scenario. As much as he knew he should be preparing himself for the worst, that he should be mentally erecting armor to defend his heart from the blow of losing one of the most relevant people in his world, Fitz knew that any preparation would be in vain – because nothing could possibly prepare him for that loss, that regardless of any preparation, his world would be rent beyond repair if he lost Elijah Goldsworthy.
The boy who had once been nothing more than his enemy, a target for his aggression had become so much more than that – such a description of him seemed almost criminal to Fitz now, as he looked back at the tangled history he shared with Eli. What had once been a rivalry had blossomed into something far more beautiful and valuable – a brotherhood that could not be replaced. In all senses, Elijah Goldsworthy truly was the Charles to Mark Fitzgerald's Erik – there could not be one without the other. His brown eyes glazed over with unshed tears, the white lines of the highway blurred as Fitz struggled to keep his composure, knowing that as hard as this drive was, walking into the hospital would be comparable to walking to his deathbed – because nothing could ever be harder than the footsteps leading up to seeing his best friend broken, possibly beyond repair. Inhaling sharply, Fitz felt a lone tear slide down his cheek as the green highway sign displaying the word Toronto came into view – a bittersweet sight. After a month of being away from home, Fitz was finally returning to his home, only the hard part was knowing that, as many people as he was returning home to, there was one who he could possibly lose as soon as he entered Toronto. Time was running out for Elijah Goldsworthy – and that was something Fitz doubted he could ever come to terms with. There were people who had drifted in and out of Fitz's life without him so much as noticing, but that had, and never would, be the case with Eli – even when Fitz had held nothing but disdain and resentment towards the boy, Eli had always made an impact on his world like no other. If he were to lose Eli tonight, Fitz wasn't sure that his life would ever be able to recover from the blow that would be the loss of his best friend – there were some people who could never be replaced.
Tears streaking down his eyes as his black Mustang wove through the dark Toronto night streets, Fitz tried to hold himself together, almost overwhelmed by the sensation of a gaping hole in his chest – the thought of losing his best friend was effectively tearing him apart. Fitz could only imagine what the loss of Eli in actuality would feel like, and he prayed he would never find out what that sensation would be like, knowing that it would be the death of him. Pulling his car to a screeching halt in front of Toronto General Hospital, Fitz allowed his walls to fall once more, tears spilling onto his cheeks as he clutched the steering wheel in his hands, knowing that this would be the hardest experience of his life. Forcing his hands to unclench from the wheel, Fitz slowly reached down and pulled the key out of the ignition with shaking fingers, opening the heavy metal door slowly. Stepping out of the car, Fitz shut the heavy metal door, and dragged his feet across the parking lot, rain beginning to fall around him as he slowly walked through the lot in a daze. He felt his cheeks wet, though he did not know whether the moisture was a result of the precipitation or the tears spilling forth from his eyes, his thoughts trained on what he would find in the hospital.
Walking through the sliding glass doors of the hospital, Fitz's heart fell to the pit of his stomach as his eyes took in the heartbroken scene around him. Scattered about the hospital lobby were the friends and family of Elijah Goldsworthy, heartbroken despair evident in the tired eyes of every individual – this event hadn't just touched a few people, it had shattered the lives of more people than Fitz could have ever imagined. Tears spilled onto his cheeks as he realized the immensity of the impact Eli had had on the lives of everyone in the room, how this boy had touched the lives of so many people, and Fitz had to force himself to inhale and exhale shallow breaths – breathing had become a struggle in the face of this tragedy. His tired, dead brown eyes scanned the room, taking in the heartbroken slump of Adam Torres, the pure exhaustion that was painted across Drew Torres's features, the pure despair that was the definition of Clare Edwards at this moment, and Fitz forced himself to step towards the latter, wrapping her in a soft hug – knowing that although his touch was not the one she yearned for, it was all he had to offer her, who was undoubtedly taking this blow the hardest. He felt her eyes on him, and he looked down to meet her baby blue eyes, and had to fight the urge to cry as he saw the raw agony written in her eyes, though she spoke up softly a moment later, her voice raw from her tears. Go in and see him, Mark. Please, for him – you know he'd want you there. Nodding numbly at her soft request, Fitz untangled himself from the embrace, his heart slowly beating as he fought for the will it would take to force himself to take the few short steps to Eli's room.
As he approached the doorway, Fitz saw Bianca collapsed against the door, her stance defeated, and he yearned to reach out and comfort her. He began to move towards her, but before he could, Torres swept in and took her hand in his, wrapping his arms around her, comforting her and supporting her as her body wracked with sobs. The numbness that had overwhelmed Fitz kept him from feeling much, though he felt a small twinge of jealousy seeing Bee in the arms of someone else. His hands began to shake, but he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the pair as he walked along the hallway, his will breaking as he reached the door to Eli's room – he didn't know if he could do this. Seeing Eli without collapsing would require a will Fitz wasn't sure he possessed, and he felt tears streak down his already tear-soaked cheeks as his fingers pressed against the wooden door, pushing it open so he could walk into the room. Entering the room, Fitz felt a cry escape his lips at the sight that awaited him, his mind unable to grasp the severity of Eli's injuries, despite the bandages and tubes that were scattered about Eli's broken body. His body shook with tears as he walked to Eli's bedside, collapsing into the uncomfortable plastic chair as he watched what was had become the most relevant person to his life fight for his life. Anger filled his mind, and for a moment, all Fitz could see was red, as he wondered who could possibly have done this to his best friend, his broken mind unable to come up with even the slightest of ideas.
With shaking fingers, Fitz stretched his hands towards Eli, his will breaking as memories flashed through his mind – memories of everything that had occurred between them, both good and bad. The two had a tangled history together, but there was no denying that a brotherhood had formed between the two – culminating in this moment. His will had shattered, Fitz had broken, because he'd known all along that his world could be falling around him, and he would have been able to endure and survive the apocalypse – only if he'd had Eli by his side.
As the minutes crawled by, Fitz felt his optimism begin to falter – every moment pulling him farther down a path he did not know if he could ever aspire to return from. Nothing had prepared Fitz for this – the sight of his best friend lying battered and broken in a hospital bed, and the sight overwhelmed him. In his life, Mark Fitzgerald had been no stranger to tragedy – the son of an abusive father, he had grown up seeing broken people all throughout his childhood, but somehow, this was different. This wasn't like everything else he'd ever seen – this, somehow, seemed far more tragic than the repercussions of domestic abuse. Perhaps it was because this time, the abuse had been inflicted upon the innocent, rather than a cheating spouse – and despite his rocky past, Elijah Goldsworthy was the closest thing to innocent that Fitz had ever seen, in the grand scheme of things. Tears fell from Fitz's tired brown eyes as he stared down at the man who had become his best friend, his brother, and wondered how this train wreck could have ever occurred. If it had been anyone else, Fitz would've had a clue where to start searching for answers, but the fate that had befallen his best friend had come entirely out of left field – it was entirely unexpected.
For what seemed like hours, Fitz sat, his body collapsed into the uncomfortable plastic chair, refusing to even consider leaving his best friend's side – he couldn't, because in the overall scheme of things, this was something Fitz would never understand: how someone like Eli Goldsworthy could have ever deserved this to happen, or how this terrible tragedy had ever come to pass. Struggling to maintain his composure, Fitz clenched his hands at his sides as he tried to hold the tears at bay, his pride unwilling to let him break down in front of his brother – knowing, in his heart, that he had to remain strong in the face of Eli's adversity.
With shaking fingers, Fitz reached over, his movements hesitant as he clasped Eli's hand in his – an uncharacteristic sign of affection that, in this moment, Fitz desperately needed. He needed to feel Eli's warm skin under his, to feel the slight pulse of his heartbeat as blood raced through Eli's veins – he clung to that small reminder that Elijah Goldsworthy was still alive, that his best friend hadn't given up his fight yet. Tears streaked down his cheeks, Fitz unable to hold them back any longer as he clasped his best friend's hand, and Fitz opened his lips, wanting to say something. Overwhelmed by the emotions that were flooding his heart, Fitz's body wracked with sobs as he tried to articulate what he was feeling – he'd never been one for emotions, for words expressing the affairs of the heart, but somehow, Fitz knew he had to force the words to escape his lips. If he failed to do so now, Fitz knew he would regret it farther down the line, if and when Eli did wake up.
It was said that victims of a coma were sometimes able to hear the voices that surrounded him, and as hard as it would be for Fitz to say something to his broken best friend, Fitz knew he owed it to Eli to try – for the boy had saved his life in more than one way. It was remarkable, how a friendship had been born between them, given the true disdain both had once held for another, but Fitz knew that winning Elijah Goldsworthy's friendship had been his biggest accomplishment in his life – one he wouldn't change for anything. The thought of losing his best friend was an overwhelming one, and Fitz felt his heart collapse at the thought of a life without Eli's impact – a life void of laughing memories, deep talks over coffee, prank wars against Bullfrog, a bond over a shared love for X-Men: First Class. Tears fell from his eyes as he tried to force the thought from his mind, though he could not – the thought had wormed its way into his mind, a seed of a terrible doubt that had taken hold.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Fitz squeezed Eli's hands gently in his, the gesture of reassurance more for his benefit than Eli's and forced his lips open. His voice shaking as he tried to hold himself together despite the gaping hole that had formed in his chest, Fitz spoke," Eli, damnit brother… Wake the fuck up." Fitz had to fight a smile at his own words, knowing that his approach to asking Eli to wake up was so in-character for him that Eli would know it was him immediately if he could hear him. Tears spilling forth from his cheeks, Fitz continued to speak, his voice faltering on every other word as he tried to speak through his tears, determined to get the words out," Come on, Charles.. Who the fuck else am I gonna turn this city upside down with?" Fitz's voice trailed off as he inhaled sharply, choking sobs back as he tried to continue his small speech," If you won't wake up for me, at least… at least, do it for Clare. Fuck, I should have come home sooner… like you asked me to. This never would have happened." His body caving in as sobs wracked his frame, Fitz forced himself to finish his small speech," We all need you to wake up, Goldsworthy… Clare does, I do…" As his voice trailed off again, Fitz allowed sobs to take over his body as the realization of the truth of his words sunk in. He, Mark Fitzgerald, who had long prided himself on never needing anyone, needed someone – someone he wasn't so sure he would ever get back. His heart shattered as the epiphany crashed over him, and his breaths escaped him in ragged gasps as heartbreak overwhelmed him, the thought of losing his best friend too much for him.
His eyes drifted shut as Fitz tried to escape this tragedy, knowing that his attempts were in vain as memories flooded before his eyes – memories of the touch Elijah Goldsworthy had on his life. The glimpses of memory were brief, almost flickers before his eyes, but the film sputtered before his eyes – each glimpse of his tangled history with Elijah Goldsworthy causing another shooting pain to race through his veins, twisting his heart in his chest.
Walking through the parking lot of Degrassi, Fitz's heart was cold, filled with a hatred for the world, as he sneered at the passerby. Fear followed Mark Fitzgerald like a shadow – no one dared cross his path, for fear of igniting the wrath that was notorious in the Degrassi halls. Standing with his friends Owen and Bianca, Fitz spoke to the only two true friends he had ever made in his life, his feet planted in the last remaining parking spot in the parking lot. As he talked with his two comrades, Fitz was aware of an annoying voice speaking out from behind him, in a tone laced with anger. Sneering as he wondered who could possibly be bothering him, Fitz turned on his heel, disdain evident on his face as he turned to lock eyes with someone unexpected – that emo bitch Eli Goldsworthy. Rolling his eyes as he listened to Eli prattle on about how annoying it was that Fitz was occupying the parking spot that Eli wanted so desperately to park in, Fitz fought back a laugh as he tried to keep his temper under control. Smirking at the boy, fighting off laughter at the boy's gothic appearance, Fitz let a cruel laugh escape his lips as he walked over to the boy's hearse, his hands closing over the small skull hood ornament for a moment, before ripping it from the car.
Walking through the halls with Milligan by his side, Fitz was aware of someone calling out his name from behind him, but he ignored them – knowing that whoever it was probably wasn't that important anyways. As he pushed open the doorway, the glass cool against his fingers, Fitz was aware of hands pressing to his back, shoving him against the railing. Blood boiling in his veins, Fitz turned to see Eli Goldsworthy glaring at him – presumably because Fitz had snatched away his precious girlfriend. A smirk rose on his lips as he listened to Eli yell at him, a plan formulating in his mind as he realized the perfect way to get under the emo bitch's skin. Laughing, Fitz allowed a few short words to escape his lips, knowing they would hit close to home for the boy he'd grown to hate," Don't worry – When we have sex, I'll be gentle…"
Coughing up vomit as he raced through the halls of Degrassi, Fitz's blood was boiling, his veins flooded by fury as he searched the hallways for his target – revenge the only thing on his mind. A laugh escaped his lips as his eyes landed on a pair of students, one trying in vain to get the other to flee. Knowing that Elijah Goldsworthy's pride wouldn't allow the boy to run from him, Fitz stepped into the moonlight, a knife glinting in his fist. A few words were exchanged, and Fitz was aware of Eli pushing Clare away, her sobs audible in the room, though Fitz ignored them as he stepped closer to the younger boy. His fist clenched around the switchblade, Fitz stepped closer to Eli, his voice possessing a tone of cruelty as he spoke words that would irrevocably change his life forever," Somebody's gotta shut you up…"
His eyes on Clare, Fitz was barely aware of another person entering the house – one he knew he wasn't prepared to see. Having just confessed his feelings for Clare, Fitz knew that the wrong person to see at the moment would be Eli, but he supposed it couldn't be avoided. Opening his lips to speak, Fitz was cut off by the sound of Eli's voice, filled with a cold anger," I have nothing to say to you." Before Fitz could stop himself, words spilled forth from his lips," Me and Clare have a spiritual connection!" He was aware of Eli's footsteps fading away, Clare making a furious noise behind him, before telling him, in the coldest tone possible that he needed to leave.
Sitting on a park bench, Fitz fought back a laugh as Eli propped his feet up on the picnic table – and made some witty remark about Eli being influenced him. Laughing at the witty banter the two exchanged, Fitz allowed a true smile to cross his face at the thought of how much their friendship had evolved over time. They had gone from true enemies to best friends in the space of a few months, overcoming adversity along the way. Glancing at Eli, Fitz knew his friend felt similarly, judging by the smile that had floated across his features. After a moment, the atmosphere of the encounter changed, with a few short words on Eli's part. As silence filled the air, Fitz was overwhelmed by ciriousity, and he spoke up, unable to handle another moment of the silence."What is it, Goldsworthy?" As Fitz awaited his friend's response, Eli looked away, his expression serious as he tried to speak. "There's a letter I wrote for Clare.." Eli paused, causing Fitz's worry to grow, for this hesitancy signified that whatever Eli had to say was possibly the most serious thing to ever escape his lips. Fitz heard Eli inhale sharply, before continuing, his tone heavy, "And if anything.. bad.. ever happens to me..I need someone to get it to Clare.. someone I trust, with my life.. and someone who knows and understands how important Clare is to me, first hand." Staring at Eli in disbelief, Fitz hesitated, unsure of how to express the feelings that raced through his veins, threatening to overwhelm him, "Me?" At Eli's nod, Fitz continued, his pulse racing as he began to question why Eli had chosen him, of all people to confide in. "Why me? And where is fuck this coming from?" A brief expression of guilt flashed across Eli's features, and the boy swallowed before responding, his voice choked back by emotion, "Why you? Because, I trust you.. wholeheartedly.. and well.." A sigh escaping his lips, Eli continued. "When I lost Julia.." Shaking his head as Fitz stared in disbelief, Eli continued, "I never got closure. I always felt like.. I didn't deserve to be happy.. that.. it was all my fault, what happened to her… And I would want Clare to know what she's meant to me.. what she's done for me.. She's saved me, man.. and I just.. I don't know if I could rest in peace, knowing on my way out, that she had to go through what I did.." Silence filled the air, as Fitz struggled for words, knowing there were no words to alleviate the tension that had filled the once peaceful and happy air between the two boys. "So.. promise me, man. If something were to happen to me.." Before Eli could finish his sentence, Fitz cut him off, his tone angry as he interrupted him, "Don't talk like that, asshole. Nothings going to happen to you." Fighting the urge to cry, Fitz pulled his walls up for the first time in a long time, his heart racing as he tried to grasp the situation, the thought of losing Eli was unbearable, "But if it does.." Eli's voice trailed off, as Fitz moved his brown eyes to meet Eli's. "You said you'd always have my back.. so.. what do you say, Erik? Promise me?" An uneasy silence filled the air, but after what seemed like hours, Fitz sighed, his jaw clenched as he spoke. "I promise, Goldsworthy." Eli exhaled, an audible sign of relief, before he spoke, "There's a black metal box that I keep all my important possessions. It's hidden under my bed.. and it's locked so you'll need the key - it's on my keychain. And if that changes, I'll let you know." Looking away from Eli, Fitz muttered, wondering what he was possibly getting himself into. "Consider it done, Goldsworthy."
Before the memory could slip away, Fitz allowed himself a small smile at the thought of how such a trivial event could have caused such an effect on his life – one that could never be forgotten. His heart raced as he opened his eyes, his gaze shifting back to Eli as he allowed a small whisper to escape his lips as he remembered the promise he'd made the broken boy before him so long ago – one he knew he had to keep. His voice cracking as he struggled for words, Fitz spoke, tears flooding down his cheeks," I remember the promise, and I won't let you down. I promised I'd always have your back.. and I meant that. Clare will get that letter man.. I remember where it is, and.. your girl will read it. It won't be gone long." Squeezing Eli's hand once more in his, Fitz exhaled audibly before standing up. Dropping Eli's hands from his, Fitz turned to walk away, knowing where he needed to go. Tears rolling down his cheeks as he reached the doorway, Fitz paused, allowing one soft reply to escape his lips, his last words to Eli, "Keep fighting, Charles. I'll be back soon."
The walk from Eli's hospital room was a struggle, each step the hardest one Mark Fitzgerald had ever taken in his life. His eyes were bare, red-rimmed by dry from tears for the first time in hours, as he dragged his feet along the cracked linoleum floor of the hospital. His breath escaped him in shallow, ragged breaths as he walked through the hospital, his heart heavy as he tried to hold himself together for Eli's sake. He had a fucking job to do, for Christ's sake, Fitz reminded himself as his hands clasped the cold, silver metal of the door handle, as he pushed the door open. Stepping out into the cool air, Fitz inhaled sharply, needing the clarity that the cold night air brought him to give him the will to complete the task before him. Running a hand through his shaggy brown hair, Fitz sighed, suddenly exhausted as he forced his feet to move, exhaustion making the steps to his car seem like an eternal struggle. His hands shaking as he reached his battered black Mustang, Fitz fumbled with his car keys, unlocking his car before pulling the heavy door open so he could step inside.
Settling himself in the uncomfortable leather seat, Fitz slipped the small silver key into the ignition, turning it as the engine roared to life, so completely opposite compared to his now dormant heart. His mind was blank as he threw the car into reverse, the car screeching against the black pavement as he maneuvered it through the parking lot. Turning the car out of the parking lot, Fitz allowed a sigh to escape his lips as he tried to remember the way to the Goldsworthy home – he hadn't been there in months, but he could have driven there with his eyes closed once upon a time. Tears slipped out of his eyes as he realized how a month had changed things so drastically, but Fitz angrily wiped the tears away, trying to force the thoughts from his mind, knowing that thinking this way would only make his task an even more impossible feat. And he couldn't allow his will to follow through on Elijah Goldsworthy's last request to falter now – he owed it to Eli to complete this task, out of respect for the friendship they'd formed these past few months. His hands shaking as he tried to keep the tears at bay, Fitz tried not to think about the possibility that Eli wouldn't wake up from this, he tried to keep his mind on the positives, but every moment was a struggle – every breath seemed to be a reminder that Eli Goldsworthy's fate was in limbo, that there was a possibility Fitz's closest ally wouldn't endure his fate. Tightening his grip around the steering wheel, Fitz glanced down at his white knuckles, the thought of who could have possibly done this entering his mind once more – and he realized that, while he had suspicions concerning who could be responsible for this atrocity, he had no concrete answers, nor did anyone else. The possibility of anyone knowing who was responsible was slim until Eli woke up, for no one had been a witness to the events that had befallen Eli that night. Knowing he could not do anything to help his friend get revenge until Eli woke up, Fitz forced his attention to revert back to the task before him, and focused on navigating the suburban streets before him, his memory directing him towards Eli's house.
Out of the corner of his eye, Fitz glimpsed the house he'd been searching for, and breathed an audible sigh of relief – step one of his mission was complete. He'd arrived at Eli's house, forced himself to walk away from his closest ally to fulfill his last wish, which, Fitz mused as he pulled the car to a stop beside the sidewalk, had undoubtedly been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life. His hand drifting down towards the ignition, Fitz turned the engine off, his head falling to rest on the steering wheel as he tried to gather the strength to follow through on everything else. He didn't know if he possessed the courage to walk into his possibly dying best friend's room, to be in a room that was so Eli, to feel his presence around him, without falling apart completely – but as Fitz raised his head up, tears brimming in his brown eyes, he knew that was exactly what he needed to do. Swallowing, Fitz inhaled a sharp breath, his hand resting on the door handle for a moment before he slowly opened his car door. His movements slow and deliberate, Fitz slowly forced himself out of the car, his feet landing on the sidewalk with a resounding thud. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he broke into a sprint, his feet light on the grass in Eli's front yard as he rushed towards the Goldsworthy family's front door.
Inches before he reached the door, Fitz stopped moving, his heart heavy as he gazed at the wooden front door, and his lips twisted into a slight smile as he saw the small wooden sign that hung beside it, their last name plastered across the wood – something Fitz hadn't expected to see his first time arriving here. His hand reached down to the small pot beside the door, his hand contorting into a fist as he reached inside of it, plucking a small gold key from within it. Holding the key in his hand, Fitz reached towards the door, unlocking it slowly with shaking fingers. The door swung open, but Fitz stood still before it, staring inside the empty home, knowing he lacked the strength to walk inside just yet. His eyes glazed over, though tears did not fall as he stared into the house, which was usually teeming with life, but now seemed void of any life at all. It was as if the house knew that a great tragedy had occurred, and had decided to settle into a depression along with its occupants. Taking a small step past the threshold, Fitz's eyes skimmed the room, so void of life, before forcing a breath from between his pink lips. Swallowing, Fitz forced his brown eyes to shift their glance towards the stairs, his heart heavy as he realized what he had to do. Clenching his fists, Fitz closed his eyes for a moment, before taking his first step towards the stairs – towards the place he feared above all else.
His feet dragged along the tiled entryway as Fitz forced himself to walk towards the stairs, cold fear freezing the blood in his veins as he walked. His footsteps padding on the soft, black carpet as he pulled himself up the carpet, Fitz had to force his eyes to remain trained on the top to the staircase, so not to lose his will to complete the task between him. The racing of his heart only increased his chest pounding as he reached the top of the staircase, his hand falling from the wooden banister he'd used to support himself while he crawled up the stairs. Taking the first step towards Eli's bedroom, Fitz allowed a soft cry to escape his lips, but he pushed on despite the war that was taking place in his heart. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the black door to Eli's bedroom, the darkness of the surface reminding him of a vortex, its void of color threatening to suck him in, to steal his sanity from him as he stared at its surface. With shaking fingers, Fitz reached towards the door, his hand clasping around the silver door handle as he struggled not to lose his nerve, knowing one more misstep would cause him to falter, and he would lose his will to carry on with the task Eli had set before him.
Slowly turning the metal doorknob in his hands, Fitz's heart stopped as the door swung open, exposing the messy room found within. Stepping into the room, Fitz's eyes skimmed the mess of clothes on the floor, the books and papers scattered on the desk, and his heart fell. Collapsing to his knees, Fitz allowed sobs to wrack through his body as his heart shattered, finally giving in, overwhelmed by the overall feeling of the room, feeling Eli's lingering presence in the air. This room was so Eli that it fucking hurt – because even with Eli's absence, in a way, the boy still lingered here, and the thought of Eli's presence lingering on in any form was crushing. Forcing himself to struggle to his feet, Fitz wiped the tears from his eyes, refusing to give in to the exhaustion now, when he was so close to his goal. His eyes shifted, the red-rimmed brown irises turning to stare at the bed. Pulling a small keychain out of his pocket, Fitz staggered over to Eli's bed, falling to his feet in front of the bed, his eyes noticing the maroon sheets before drifting downwards. His hands fell to the floor as he reached under it, a grimace sliding across his face as his fingers touched cold metal. Grasping the object in his fingers, Fitz slid it out, staring at it for a moment as he fingered the keychain nervously, his fingers twisting around a small black key. His mouth felt dry as he stared down at the box, realizing exactly what it was that he held in his hands – the last respects of Eli Goldsworthy. His heart shattering in his chest, Fitz picked up the box, setting it in his lap as he inserted the key in the lock, the box popping open to reveal its messy contents. His fingers skimming through its contents, Fitz sighed when he found an envelope, and he pulled it out, reading the messy scrawl on its front, the ink spelling out the name of the girl that would forever hold Elijah Goldsworthy's heart – Clare Edwards.
Pocketing the letter, Fitz placed the box on the floor; shut the lid, twisting the key in its lock as it clicked softly, before sliding it back under the bed. His purpose was fulfilled, he had no further need to be here, haunted by the memories this room held. Struggling to his feet, Fitz turned to leave, a bitter smile floating across his face as his eyes landed on a small blue journal that lay on his nightstand. He knew what that book held, the contents of Clare Edwards' heart, and walked over to it, fingering the book for a moment, tempted to take it to her. After a moment, Fitz placed the book back on Eli's nightstand, knowing that Clare would want the book to remain here, waiting for Eli's return the way her heart would always be waiting for him. A sigh escaping his lips, Fitz turned on his heel, and pocketed the letter, rushing out of the house, knowing where he needed to head now.
As soon as he was outside the house, Fitz raced over to his car, jumping inside of it, his hands going to the ignition as the car roared to life. His mind was void of thoughts as he drove to the hospital, free of any thoughts save those of completing his task. Before he knew it, his car was parked in front of the hospital, and he was sliding the door open as he climbed out of his car. The walk to the waiting room passed by more quickly this time, as Fitz's mind was free of distractions, his mind set on finding Clare. Weaving through the crowd of people gathered, Fitz's eyes landed on the girl he'd been searching for, and he walked over to her, his mind suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. Walking up to her, Fitz pulled the letter out of his pocket, his hands shaking as he held the envelope in his hands, feeling like he was carrying some grave secret. Clare looked up as he approached, and Fitz could see the exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes, and he felt sorrow crash over him at what this girl was going through. Biting his lip as he extended his hand towards her, offering her the letter, Fitz tried to allow a small whisper to escape his lips, grief choking back his words as he struggled not to lose control in front of Clare. He had one thing on his mind now: doing right by Eli and delivering this envelope without completely shattering in the process – something that he'd never expected to struggle with so completely. At her shocked look, Fitz spoke, his voice cracking as he tried to force the words from his lips," It's… from Eli. He asked me to give this to you, in case… In case something happened to him."