"You believe me, don't you, Francis?"

"Of course I do."

Bring on the shining smile to prove that he did indeed believe him, act as though they weren't lying, and help them through their problems. That is what he had to do in this job. Keep his patients happy. Simple, right?

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo - that was his patient. A man who called 911 too often and finally the police got fed up enough that they scheduled him to his office. Apparently, this Spaniard was being stalked, though whenever an investigation went out, there was nothing to be found. He was like the boy who cried wolf, but this time, there would be no wolf. The police had suggested he had an extreme case of paranoia - perhaps from a traumatic issue from his childhood or a bad event that had happened recently? Whatever it may be, his bad case caused child services to visit his house and take his child, Lovino, away. Antonio wasn't sleeping, he was jumpy, always kept an eye out the window, and would put his child through odd situations such as hiding him when someone would come to the door or if he thought someone was searching around the home outside. It was an unfortunate case and certainly the loss of his child caused some extremities.

The gorgeous tan man would visit him almost daily and Francis allowed him to stay for as long as he needed. Even with the things his mind was dealing with, this man seemed so cheerful still. Every time he entered, he would knock before then ask if the time was alright to come in and speak with him. Too sweet. The French man could tell he was attracted to his new patient right when he walked through the doors for the first meeting. Of course, there was a strict rule against dating your patients. Though…that didn't stop the blond from slowly and surely falling deeply in love.

Today was just like any other day - the Spaniard walked in and sat down, said his hellos and asked about the day, then he started to speak about the 'man' following him around. Antonio could apparently see shadows, ducking behind corners and keeping out of sight from the beautiful green eyes. He could also hear voices, like whisperings of his name and threats about to come to him, mostly about death. Such morbid things this shadow man would tell him. Toni could feel his time ticking to the end, he believed that this man would keep true to his threats and soon it would be delivered.

Francis always felt bad for his patients, but this one seemed to be the worst; having someone threaten you with death, having your one and only child taken from you, not able to sleep…it was awful. All he could do was listen, nod occasionally, and give fake belief to someone who desperately needed someone to believe him; and to say this all was not true would tear the man apart more and so the smiles of belief kept shining.

The issue went on for weeks - more about a shadow hiding from him, threatening whispers, thinking someone is roaming around his home and watching through windows. Until, one day, the meeting sent a chill down his spine and his stomach dropped, a small panic rising in him, as though this would be true. For a strange moment, he did believe the Spaniard.

"He's coming tonight…"

Francis almost dropped his pen.

"What?"

Olive eyes looked over to him, the gaze seemed as though he had finally given up and was about to accept an impending death.

"Whoever he is…he said tonight was the time. You know, when he's going to kill me."

There was silence between the two - the French man had no idea what to say to that. There was always something to say to anything, but this was something you would never expect someone to say to you. Having a schoolboy crush on the messy brown haired man was not helping him in staying calm either. There was no way he would die tonight, but what if he was telling the truth? There was no way. The police found nothing. Sometimes the police find nothing and then it's too late when they realize. No.

"Nonsense. Who could kill you?"

The counselor thought he could get a smile from the other, but Antonio was continuing his dead stare to him. The Spaniard was telling the truth. His eyes showed everything and there was dead truth in them. Yet, he made himself believe that it was simply paranoia getting to him again, and when he would leave he would be back at the same time tomorrow, knocking on his door and asking he could go in.

"Try to get some sleep, Antonio. You need it. You'll feel better then and tomorrow, how about we go outside for a session?"

"…Okay."

Were there tears in his eyes? Francis couldn't tell, he had gotten up so quickly and turned his back to him, going to the door, there was no way he would be able to see now. He didn't want the man to cry, but there was nothing more to do. He could not spend the night with him, and that would be much too tempting for him, and he could not ask for the polices help - they were the ones who brought him here.

"Goodbye, Francis."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Toni. Get some sleep too, remember that."

A smile shone as the Spaniard left.

Much to his dismay, that would be the last time he saw Antonio. There was no chance to claim his feelings for him, there would be no chance to hold him closely and kiss him, there would be no chance for him to recover and gain back the son he so missed for months, there were no chances for Antonio any longer.

A man had been stabbed forty seven times, mainly to the chest area, in his own home as he was sleeping. It seemed the suspect had broken in, the victim in such a deep sleep he hadn't heard the intrusion. The suspect had used a knife from the victims own kitchen to do the job. By the time police had arrived to the home, the victim was already deceased, and the suspect no where to be found. The police were only called when a neighbor heard screams, otherwise, it could have gone unnoticed. It appeared the suspect had been stalking the victim for a while - they had known where things were placed, knew their victims schedule, and knew the way around the house well enough to find the weapon and victim in the dark without knocking items over or searching around the area to disrupt things. There was only one goal for the suspect - to kill his victim and leave.

Dear Antonio was the victim. Found dead in his bed, trying to sleep, just as Francis had told him to do. The murderer had used that to their advantage for an easy kill. No one knew who killed him or had any leads. The Spaniard had been a well liked man, hard working, and there didn't seem to be one being who had disliked him so much as to kill him. Yet, no one believed him, no one seemed to take his words to heart to take action, and death had been the result.

How difficult was it to tell Lovino that he would never see his dad again? How did everyone feel when they realized that they could have prevented this? How did Antonio feel when he knew no one would believe him and it dropped so low that he accepted his fate and tried no more?

So Francis sat in his chair, notebook and pen in hand, listening for the small knocks, blue eyes watching for the door to open as he walked in, and waited to witness that bright smile to show on his face, and feel the warmth and joy when he knew that his smile was directed right to him and no one else. Of course, Antonio did not walk in that day, just as he wouldn't every other day to come.

The pen wavered in his hand, vision blurring as tears formed and began to slip out. He should have been there. There was a gut feeling that had told him that the tan man was not lying and to believe him, yet he failed to do so. The French man came to realize he would never see the Spaniard again.

Often times he would think; about how things would be different if he had offered to stay with him, if he had gotten a watch out to sit in front of his house, if he had truly meant he believed him instead of giving him lies. Nothing would change, it couldn't. What had been done was done and you couldn't bring the dead back.

Antonio had said his farewell.

Francis was still waiting to say his.