A piercing bang.

That Gunfire.

The pain he hadn't even felt until he'd looked down and saw it. Looked down at the small, barely noticeable, hole in his coat... At the blood soaking through his clothing at an alarming rate.

And then there was his face. He who never gave a second look. Was he really expecting one? After all the lies he'd finally given up, did he really expect to be pitied by that man?

Of course he had. He knew there was no love in him, there never had been... but he was still his son. He'd still thrown down his life like a poor dog, and yet...

Nothing.

Nothing but the dim candlelight, and a sea of red and silver swirling around him as time seemed to halt. Nothing but that sick crunch as he hit the floor, blood slowly spreading over the tile.

Nothing but the sound of the Cardmasters footsteps as he left the main hall, casting his eldest son away for the last time.

He winced, in a weak attempt to pull himself off the floor, the blood from the bullet wound already starting to pool around him. It was futile. He didn't want to survive this anyway. There was no point left in it anymore. His vision was clouded, he was completely winded, his left arm had snapped in the fall, though the severity of the break was little in comparison to the bullet still lodged somewhere in his chest.

This was a different pain then he'd been used to. Different, yet all the same.

He sobbed, as he finally took in a labored breath and curled up slightly, wishing he could just disappear. Just fall away and die already. Then it would all be over.

Twenty-seven miserable years could finally be over.

It really had all come down to this. To nothing.

He stared dully across the room, vaguely noticing a thin trail of blood flowing between the cracks in the tiles, though he did not acknowledge it as his own. Nor did he really acknowledge that it was blood, for that matter. He did not know what anything was anymore.

"Jizabel?"

He swallowed. He knew that voice, though he did not want to say it was real, nor did he care to move from the fetal position he was currently in. He felt better where he was.

"Jizabel!!?!"

It was more frantic the second time, and he could feel the vibration through the floor, as the man ran toward him. His eyes widened, some color returning to them, as he felt a hand come down on his shoulder.

"...Cassian?" His breath caught in his throat. That name seemed so foreign. As did his own voice, as though he had not spoken in years, though his last words had hardly been half an hour ago. The older man exhaled, relieved Jizabel had even responded, and he kneeled beside the younger one, helping him up into his arms, in a shaky embrace.

"...I'm... so sorry... I should have been here sooner."

He said nothing after that, as he wiped the sweat from the younger mans brow, and leaned in to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar, in attempts to look at the wound.

"...C...Cassian."

"Don't speak, kid."

Silence fell between them once more, as Cassian took his own shirt off, tearing the fabric for a makeshift bandage, if only to stop the bleeding.

"I'll have to carry you out of here, Then I'll find help... All right?"

Jizabels gaze, which had been fixed on the intricate details of the ceiling, and the chandelier, turned back to Cassian, still rather out of it, given what had passed in the last hour.

"I... I did not think you... were coming back... I am... amazed you returned."

Cassian swallowed, the look on his face almost painful... the very thought that Jizabel hadn't trusted him stabbing deep.

"I had to. I couldn't leave you here," He said, with solemn smile as he leaned down, planting a soft kiss on the doctors lips, earning a tremble from the younger man before he relaxed, faintly returning the kiss.

"...Come on... Jizabel."

A sudden cry rang through the chamber, as Cassian scooped the younger man into his arms, his multiple wounds protesting greatly to the slightest of movements. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more then to fall back to floor, crawl into that fetal position again and-

"Shh...."

He shuddered, resting his head against Cassians warm chest, listening the older mans heart beat.

"Cassian... I don't think..."

"Stop acting as if you're going to die... Or like you would prefer death.... I know you don't."

The man was right, really. He didn't want to die. It was just that he had never been given a choice. He could fall to pieces in this hell, or look for the way out. There had always been two ways out. The one just beyond his reach, and the one so close that he tasted it everyday: Death.

After so long, could it be this simple? He couldn't believe what was happening... He didn't even know the severity of his own wound, but with the way he felt, he had been certain it was nothing any human could survive.

Yet, then...

He felt Cassians grip on him slip a little, as the older man opened the closest door in the chamber, making his way down one of the winding halls, probably back tracking through whatever obscure route he had taken to get there in the first place.

A faint smile graced his lips, as he closed his eyes, lulled by the rhythm of Cassians steps.

If Cassian had really come back for him, anything was possible.

And If Cassian could take him somewhere better...

It didn't matter what lay ahead.

----

Another explosion broke the deathly silence, as the wall came down, granting Cain Hargreaves and the man accompanying him access to Delilah's headquarters.

Cain froze, catching a glimpse of Riffael on one of the higher floors. The darker personality faltered briefly, or so Cain had imagined, almost hoping for his own Riff's return... but Riffael's eyes broke from Cain's, before he staggered out of sight.

"Damn..."

Cain bit his lip, running to the nearest stair... but he stopped suddenly, as he passed a flash of red on the floor, blood that had seeped between the tiles. His face paled, as he turned to see Disraeli's body on the floor, several meters away from where he stood, the man whom he'd met in the underground kneeling beside him.

"...The doctor... is..." Cain gasped, not yet grasping this development in his reality.

Cassian raised his head, though his expression was now dull and broken.

"He's dead."

Cain took a step forward, his stronger emotions warring with one another about just how he should feel about his brothers death.

"Go."

Cassians voice was blunt, as he fought back his tears.

"I've found the one I came here for... Go after him."

Cain turned, looking back up to where he'd last seen Riff, then nodded, running back towards the staircase, and on to his final destination.

...

Cassian swallowed, a sick feeling rising in his stomach as he kneeled over his companions broken form. His face already pale and cold, but his eyes closed peacefully, as if to say that his last dream had been a beautiful one. Cassian lowered his hand, brushing it across his angels face.

"I'm... So sorry.... I should have been here... sooner."

----

Ehhheheh....

So, You started off thinking this was a happy alternate ending, didn't you? Eh, nope.... Well, It is... in a way. 'Cept for Cassian. Poor Cassian. But at least Jizabel had a happy little delusion/dream before he died. Yaaaaaay.

Note, that this was somewhat inspired by every single pre-death delusion in every sad and miserable book I've ever read. And anime I've ever watched. I finished Le Chevalier D'eon the other day, and I was all "There it is AGAIN! Must... Write... This... Scenario..."

Seriously, this sort of thing happens alot in dramas. Always with women though. xP

I'm sorry, but everytime I write something happy, an air plane flies through a flock of birds. The birds die, the airplane goes down in a blazing fireball, yeah, you know the works.

People get hurt, Jizabel has to sit in an emo corner, and mourn the dead birds, etc.

But hey, there's going to be a good ending for Broken Home. I promise. ;D