Hi there! This is a somewhat depressing Angel/Collins fic I wrote. I apologize in advance for any sappiness or bad writing that lies ahead-this is only my second fic, so be nice. Consider yourself warned, and please read and review anyway!

Tom Collins hated hospitals.

He hated the sickly smell of antiseptic, the whirring noises of the machines attached to various patients, the false cheerfulness in the smiles of over-attentive nurses.

But what Collins hated most of all, what he despised more than anything that had ever happened in his entire life, was the fact that his life, his light, his love, his beautiful sparkling Angel, was dying, slowly fading, beside him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Angel lay, pale and ashen, on the hospital bed, tubes snaking from her nose, her breath shallow. Collins knew, though his lover was barely conscious, that she was pained and struggling and very scared. He knew how small and exposed and vulnerable she felt, being unable to dress in drag and unable to comfort him.

Feeling helpless, Collins dabbed at Angel's forehead with a cool cloth. Though he knew the last thing she would want was for him to hurt so badly for her sake, he was in agony.

Over these past few weeks, Angel had faded so rapidly from who she was. So much of her had faded that Collins barely could see any of his lover left in the Angel lying there. His Angel was energetic and loving, generous and kind. His Angel had bright, sparkling eyes and a contagious smile. She had a way of finding the beauty in everything. Through his misery, Collins felt incredibly lucky to have ever been loved by her. Loving her had made him beautiful. Without her, he feared, there would be nothing beautiful left.

And although only a bit of his Angel remained, Collins was determined to

stay with her until the last bit of her faded away, like a candle being blown out, extinguishing the very last trace of the person who had given his life new meaning.

Collins blinked back tears as he saw, on one of the many machines that Angel was hooked up to, how close she was to death. This is it, he thought numbly.

She's nearly gone.

Collins climbed into Angel's hospital bed with her. He cradled her gently in his arms and kissed her hair.

"Angel," he spoke into her ear, his voice barely a whisper. "I know you have to go soon, baby, so don't try to respond. But please, try your hardest to listen to this right now, because it is more important that you hear these words than you can ever possibly know."

Collins took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I want you to know, my precious Angel, that you made my life worth living. I can't tell you how amazed and- and grateful-"

Collins fought back a sob.

"How grateful I am that you ever loved me. I never deserved you, Angel, and I never will. But baby, please know that no matter what happens, I will wait for you until the end of time."

Tears streamed down Collins' face as his voice cracked on his final pledge to his dying lover.

"I love you, Angel."

And as he held her close, kissing her over and over, his body shaking with sobs, the light that was his beloved Angel slowly extinguished into darkness.

That night, Angel Dumott Schunard died in her lover's arms.