The freezing rain pierced the thick wool of his hoodie and chilled him to the bone. His chestnut bangs stuck to his forehead, falling in his eyes and blurring his vision behind the porcelain mask. Each step felt like he was dragging cinder blocks behind him but he trudged on, knowing that he'd be fine when he got home. If he got home…

He hugged his arms around his torso, trying to conserve some kind of heat but the icy wind blowing directly at him made this a little challenging. He had already lost all feeling in his nose almost twenty minutes ago. Now, his toes were burning.

Maybe he shouldn't have overreacted. After all, Pewdie was only trying to help him…Help him what? He pondered the question internally. All PewdiePie had done was prove just how superficial he was. How much he didn't care about Cry…or his feelings for him.

Cry quickened his pace despite the lack of warmth in his toes or hands. Maybe his anger could keep him warm enough to make it the last five blocks home.

I mean, I know he was probably joking but he wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean…Cry couldn't bring himself to even think about finishing that sentence. Partially because he knew if he did, it would force him to see what was clear in front of him.

PewdiePie did not – could not – feel the way Cry did. Not now. Not ever.

Cry turned slightly when he heard a car approaching quickly. He gingerly pulled his hand out of his sodden hoodie and stuck out his thumb, hoping to hitch a ride. The vehicle whizzed by, sending up a torrential wave of water so forceful that it knocked Cry back.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed as he stumbled back, tripping on a crack in the sidewalk. He threw his hands out in a desperate attempt to catch himself. He landed awkwardly on his wrist and through stifling numbness, pain shot through him so sharply that it brought tears to his eyes, despite the rain.

He hissed at the agonizing tingle in his misshapen wrist but was too cold to care at the moment. He would need more than a doctor if he kept this up. Now he could hardly keep his teeth together.

Why did Pewdie have to open his fucking mouth anyway? It was bad enough that Minx and Russ were teasing him about it now after all these years but Pewdie didn't have to say anything. He had to have known how it would make feel. Otherwise, he wouldn't have said it.

More tears started to come to his eyes – not from the stinging rain, the cold, or his broken wrist. It had taken him so long to even admit to himself that he had any significant feelings for Pewds and when he did, it was all ripped away. But he refused to waste them on him. He wasn't worth it.

Yet again, another car swerved past. This time, though, it hit the ditch. Even more water came splashing over him and he reeled to the side. The cold water felt like a heavy slap in the face. He lost his footing for a second and time seemed to slow down. He felt air passing his face and he thought he was floating before he slammed full force into the ground. Stars exploded across his vision as his head cracked against the pavement. But he couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything anymore.

Now, lying on his back, he stared up at the darkened night sky. A street light flickered not too far from him. The rain was clearing but in its place, snow had started to fall. Aching numbness threatened to seize him; he already couldn't move his legs without pain rearing up and biting him in the ass.

Dammit, Pewdiepie! he thought bitterly. It was his fault he was out there in the first place. Why couldn't he just accept him, quirks and all? Why did he have to turn everything into some profane joke? Especially where Cry was concerned? It broke his heart. The pain of it was almost as tangible as the concussion he was sure he had.

Snowflakes danced in the air, lazily completing somersaults and tumbles before finally caressing his mask and landing on his lips. Pewdiepie would've loved to be here with him. Cry could clearly see his ruffled blonde Swede laughing as he dove to dodge an incoming snowball. He'd look so adorable all covered snow, his aqua blue eyes shining through the fluffy drifts, his smile assuring Cry that everything was going to be okay.

Cry blinked hard, banishing the thought. That could never happen. He forced himself to relive the events that had transpired at the bar. Maybe he had overreacted and had taken things the wrong way. Maybe it was his fault…

He stared at the blackened sky again, the fog and snow painted everything a grayish haze. The pain in his body throbbed but he could not find the strength to nurse his injuries. So he just lay there. Maybe he would die here and then Pewdie would never have to think about him again.

Suddenly, he heard rapid footfalls beating the sidewalk. Someone was coming. So cold, so weak, he couldn't bring himself to look to see who it was. He just closed his eyes. The steps drew closer and he heard a strikingly familiar voice.

"Cry?"

His eyes flew open just as the person knelt beside him. He gasped a mixture of snow and freezing air that stung his throat and sent a massive chill through his body.

"Bro, hey!" PewdiePie grabbed Cry gruffly by the shoulders and pull him into a half-sitting, half-leaning position, "What happened?"

Cry was still trying to get over his coughing/shivering fit.

"A...c-car...it c-came while...while I was wa-walk-walking," he chattered, unable to stop his jaws.

"Oh, Cry," he sighed angrily, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Cry opened his mouth to respond but suddenly found his face buried in a dark, warm material as PewdiePie hugged him tightly. It was like sitting next to a space heater. Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, accepting the embrace. Pewdie wrapped his arms around his back, warming his torso. Pewdie admired the way Cry's head fit so perfectly under his chin, his wild, chestnut hair cushioning his chin.

But it wasn't helping. He was shivering like crazy and his skin was gray. He felt like a giant trembling ice-cube. He started trying to rub some warmth into Cry's arms when he heard the telltale hiss of pain. He abruptly stopped and lifted his wrist into the light. Even though the soaking hoodie, Pewdie could see the broken angle and Cry squirmed uncomfortably against him.

"My God, Cry. What did you do to yourself?"

Cry's shiver lessened slightly and he pulled away, glaring at him angrily through the eyes of the mask.

"What did I do? What did I do? This is all your fault!" he managed an angry whisper.

"Me?" a wrinkle of disbelief passed over Pewdie's face, "What did I do wrong?"

Cry turned away, focusing his anger on the sidewalk. He couldn't stay mad staring into Pewdie's confused face. It irritated him that he didn't know the wrong he had done. It made his heart ached in a way that it never had before.

"No, Cry, look at me," Pewdie gently placed his thumb and index finger on Cry's chin and turned his head back. He noticed the slight quiver of his lips and wanted more than anything to steal a kiss from his cute mouth. But he restrained the urge. Although he could not see through the pale, white mask, he knew that Cry was hurting.

"Tell me what I did."

A shiver ran through Cry again, this time unrelated to the cold.

"Back at the bar…you said that you would never…"

"Cry, I was only kidding."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Cry continued in a quiet voice, "We're too different. Incompatible. I mean, it already took me this long to realize that you were…like me. And then, after a few drinks, you tell me that you could never even like someone who kept so many secrets. Anything to keep hidden. A mask…but I thought we…"

Cry's shoulder slumped in dejection and he dropped his head from Pewdie's grip. Pewdie let him go. He had no idea Cry felt that way at all. He always seemed so confident in their friendship but nothing more. They were pretty close but Cry seemed so distant, in his own little world. So calm and in control with that deep ass voice. But as he sat here, cold and broken, so out of his element, Pewdie could see just how vulnerable he was. And that he'd hurt him badly.

"Cry," he spoke low and sincere, "You have to believe me, I never meant to hurt you."

"Well you did!"

Pewdie could feel the anger radiating from Cry and knew that behind the crooked mask, his eyes were screaming with fury. He'd never seen Cry this angry. Not even the time a buggy game crashed his server and forced him to get a replacement. He had been pretty fed up but not like this. Pewdie didn't know what to do.

"Cry..."

"What?"

The word was nearly silent but it pierced the haze that had fallen over Pewdie. He turned to Cry again. His skin had taken on a bluish tint. He wasn't sitting up on his own anymore. His chest was barely rising and falling with each breath.

"Oh no," Pewdie whispered angrily. With one hand, he hugged Cry against his body, half-stuffing him into his jacket. The other hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Cry's shivering had already subsided. He could no longer feel his arms or legs and breathing became a struggle. There was no pain anymore. Just the cold. He felt the warmth vaguely touch his face again and remembered that Pewdie was still there. But it didn't matter. He was going to die anyway. It already took so much effort to concentrate on Pewdie's face. His eyes were full of concern and his face was pinched with cold. His nose and cheeks were a blur of red and Cry realized he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Stay with me, Cry. Help is on the way. Just stay with me!" Pewdie's voice seemed far away and it took Cry a minute to comprehend what he said. He didn't bother responding. He didn't have the strength.

Cry closed his eyes. The tiny movement sent Pewdie over the edge. Where was the damned ambulance?! Ten minutes became ten years to wait. Pewdie briefly considered carrying Cry there himself. It wasn't far but the flashing lights and sirens finally came screeching around the corner. Everything happened quickly and Pewdie sat in a haze as a team of paramedics grabbed Cry and loaded him in the back of the ambulance.

"Are you riding with him?"

The question had barely escaped the paramedic's mouth before Pewdie was in the back of the van, holding on to Cry's lifeless hand.

-~0~-

Cry awoke to the mechanical sound of his heartbeat.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He saw nothing but white. White linens. White walls. His clothes were white. Even his pale skin was an unusually white color under the fluorescent white light shining above him. It all stung his eyes and he shut them tight, expecting to roll over and get back to sleep. The room was quiet and he tried to drift away again but another sound kept him awake. It was a deep, rumbling snore. And it was coming from the corner of the room.

Cry opened his eyes again and sat up. Balled up in a chair in the corner, his gigantic headphones smothering his ears and his messy blonde mop falling into his eyes, sat PewdiePie.

Seeing him there, all out of sorts, looking like he'd been through hell and fallen asleep at the gates, it tugged on Cry's heartstrings. Just a little.

He looked down at his arm. It had been swathed in a cast and looked more like a giant, white club than his wrist and hand. A dull ache in the back of his head made him remember the fall. The cold, hard pavement. He sighed as he felt the bandages wrapped around his head.

He turned slightly to look out the window…and that's when he saw it. Lying on the side table. Across the room. He reached up to touch his face. His real face. The realization slowly began to sink in and the mechanical heartbeat sped up.

He was unmasked. Had Pewdie seen him like this? Had anyone but the doctors seen this? How long had it been off? The questions flew through his mind at rapid speed, the heartbeat getting faster and faster all the time.

Pewdie began to stir in his sleep. Cry panicked. He couldn't be seen. He simply couldn't.

"Cry? You up?" Pewdie's voice croaked awkwardly.

Cry didn't respond, his horror blatantly apparent on the heart monitor. His heartbeat was erratic. He threw himself under the covers just as Pewdie sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Cry, you okay?"

"Yeah," Cry's voice sounded strained and weak, "I'm fine. I just…I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Pewdie smiled. Finally, it had been days since the incident. Although the immediate danger had passed, the doctors were still worried about the concussion Cry must've gotten from the fall. It might be nothing. It might mean amnesia. Pewdie didn't care. Cry was alive. They could fix his memories. They couldn't bring back the dead.

He stood to his feet and stretched. The chair had offered minimal comfort and he ached all over.

"How're you feeling, bro?"

"I told you I'm fine," Cry lied. The monitor was going crazy. He tried to breathe normally to slow it down. He felt like he was going to suffocate under the sheets.

"Cry, the monitor –,"

"Don't worry about it. Just sit back down and got to sleep! You need it."

"But Cry –,"

"Don't come any closer!"

Pewdie was taken aback by the anger in Cry's voice. The desperation. He could see the outline of his body trembling under the sheets. Something was wrong. Pewdie glanced around, trying to figure out what had set him off. His eyes settled on the mask, lying on the table next to him. A tiny smile touched his face.

Under the covers, Cry couldn't stop shaking. Pewdie couldn't see him like this. He couldn't let it happen. If he would just leave the room for a second, close his eyes, turn around, anything! He felt a tiny nudge behind him.

"Don't worry about it, Cry. I didn't see anything," he could hear the smile in his voice, "I'll be outside. Call me when you're finished."

And the door clicked shut.

Cry waited a few seconds before peeking out from his covers. Pewdie had left the room. He pushed himself up again. His mask. Pewdie had set it next to him. That lovable bastard.

It took him five minutes to slip the mask on, adjust his sitting position, and calm down enough for the monitor to stop beeping so frantically.

"Come in," he called, ignoring the throbbing ache in the back of his head.

Pewdie came bustling back in, looking his normal cheerful self, and harboring a grin that could blind the sun.

"How's it going, bro?" he cried his gaming intro grandly after shutting the door.

Cry couldn't help the chuckled that rose up in his throat.

"I'm a little cold but otherwise, I'm fine."

"Good. Good...," Pewdie trailed off and Cry could see that under the happy exterior was a nervous man.

"Look, bro, I'm just gonna come out and say it. Back at the bar...I -,"

"What bar?"

Pewdie froze.

"The bar. You know. When you walked out?"

"Nope! Don't remember a thing about that," Cry tapped the bandages around his head, "I think this might have something to do with that."

Pewdie stood still for a second before bursting out in a raucous laugh. Cry raised his eyebrows in a question but Pewdie was too busy wiping the tears out of his eyes to see him.

"What happened at the bar, man?" Cry asked when Pewdie had at least calmed himself enough to keep giggling.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Cry. Don't worry 'bout it."

'Sup everybody! Hope you enjoyed this little oneshot. I'd like to do more for these two and it'd be sweet if you all could give me ideas or some situations you'd like to see these two get into. It'd be cool to get some reader feedback, after all these are really for your entertainment. I just like to write them! X) Thanks for reading and be sure to post a review or an idea!