Disclaimer: Do you see me holding up a sign saying "Chrissy P"? No. Meaning me no own the characters. Also, I don't own the plot. That was graciously given to me by 3rdDeath. I've just twisted and turned it around to fit me more. Hehe. Also, the title is borrowed and tweaked a bit from the great song called The One Thing I Have Left. For those who have read my previous works, you might recognise this. :sweatdrop:

Also, I do not own the lyrics that Eragon uses here later on. They belong to Sum 41, and are taken from the song called Pieces. I strongly recommend that you listen to it. It's beautiful and breathtaking… but don't listen to it while reading this chapter! You will cry! XD

Warning: Talk of and attempt of suicide, and rated thereafter. Also incestuous feelings. Meaning romantic feeling between family members, here brothers. Lastly, angsty Eragon. We never see much of him, so he certainly deserved to be in the warning XD

A/N This fic is dedicated to 3rdDeath. May his arrival back to the fanfiction world be quick. :lol: But back to business. :wink:

EDIT! I'm just checking in to say that I changed a small age error. Thanks to death by storm for pointing it out to me. Eragon's 17 here, soon turning 18. Hope there's no other confusion. If so, ask me!

The Beginning

The One Thing I Had Left

A brown haired teen ran inside his room, unlit and dank, and slammed the door behind him. Shivers had taken control of his body. He tried to make it stop, but his body wouldn't obey. The brunet flung himself onto his bed, shoulders heaving as he unsuccessfully tried to at least calm his mind. He was unable to manage to do anything that night.

Eragon was used to be viewed as a child, as someone younger by those around him, even though he was turning eighteen soon. He was also used to being unacknowledged, or not talked to directly. People had with referring to him as Murtagh's brother or Tag's baby brother. He had never been just Eragon to anyone.

No, that was wrong. Arya, his only friend in the whole world, saw him as Eragon, not his brother's unfortunate sibling. It was probably the reason Eragon hadn't pushed her away yet.

And yet… there was something Eragon could never tell Arya. He feared he might loose his only friend. That he might loose his only reason for hauling himself to school Monday through Friday. And that reason, the thing he could never tell her, was the reason he was reduced to a shivering mess on his bed.

The day had proceeded as it normally did. Eragon had met up with Arya, a girl a year his senior with short black hair and sparkling emerald eyes, and had proceeded to keep himself at the school bench. Hadn't it been for that he was able to see Arya during the windows between classes, he was sure he would have left a long time ago. They ate lunch together, him constantly being talked to as Murtagh's baby bro and had walked home with Arya by his side. Eragon had then been fully prepared to go through the next stage of his normal day; saying hello to his mother Selena and his brother Murtagh. Then eat dinner, retreat to his room and sleep. He didn't even get to the dinner part of the day before it fell around his ears.

Murtagh had been seated in the living room when Eragon had entered. Murtagh, turning twenty in just a month, was the epitome of beauty in many people's eyes. Where Eragon's hair was messy and light brown Murtagh's was slightly curly and dark brown, almost black. Eragon's eyes, which he had inherited from the father that had left them sixteen years ago, were deep and dark brown. Murtagh's were hazel with a slight tint of green around the irises. Eragon was tan, lanky and a little short for his age. Murtagh was anything but. The older was tall and pale, and had a body many would die for. What hurt Eragon the most, was that he would die for it too.

The brunet had given up denying the truth to himself long ago. It didn't sooth the pain however. Somehow, without even realising it himself, Eragon had done the most stupid thing in the world. He had fallen for Murtagh. He had fallen in love with his own brother.

Eragon flinched, lying in his own dark thoughts in his equally dark room. He would hear the chatter coming from the other end of the house. Selena laughed heartily and Murtagh's deep voice ringed in Eragon's ears. The reason he was in his room, the reason he feared to go outside, was the reason he hated himself so.

Murtagh was going on a date. That had been the first thing his brother had said to him as Eragon had walked inside the house. Murtagh had looked so happy then, and Eragon's heart had shattered. The brunet couldn't remember if he had smiled or scowled, but he had only said hello to Selena and walked calmly to his room. Of course, the calm was ruined as he had slammed the door and was now clutching a pillow to his face. Thankfully it seemed that the others hadn't heard him. Eragon would have died if they had.

Eragon breath hitched as he tried to keep himself from crying. Lately his pain had been relatively small because Murtagh hadn't been dating anyone for almost a year. But when someone was like Murtagh, of course they would start dating again. And it hurt Eragon to the very core. Somewhere, probably in the back of his mind, the brunet had hoped his feelings weren't in vain, that Murtagh loved him back. But of course he didn't. Who could ever love someone like Eragon?

The doorbell rang and Eragon finally managed to get the last shiver under control.

"Eragon dear, come out and meet Murtagh's friend!"

Eragon winced. The bed creaked as he got out. His clothes had become wrinkly by now. He straightened them half-heartedly. Then the brunet sighed and got out of the room. Soft laughter and happy voices echoed from the living room. Eragon felt sick and out of place. He had no business inside that room, and yet it was there he was heading. He stepped over the threshold.

"Ah, there you are Eragon." Selena said warmly. "Meet Nasuada."

Eragon felt another knife enter his heart. A pretty young woman stood up and held out her hand.

"Hello Eragon, it's nice to finally meet you." Nasuada said with a bright grin. "Murtagh can't seem to stop talking about you."

Another stab to his heart. Eragon simply tried to smile back and shook her hand. He could see why Murtagh liked her; delicate dark skin and silky black hair. Deep brown eyes that one could loose themselves in and a smile that radiated kindness. She seemed genuinely happy.

"Nice to meet you too Nasuada." Eragon responded in kind.

"Come and sit down with us." Selena said and made place for her youngest son by her side.

"I can't mom." Eragon said then.

The brunette was startled. Murtagh looked away from Nasuada, who had been speaking, and frowned. Eragon gulped mentally and sent an easy smile. How fake it felt.

"I have tons of homework I need to do. Sorry."

"Oh, I see." Selena said softly. "Well, what's there to do?"

Eragon nodded absently even though it hadn't been an actual question. Murtagh looked suspicious however. Eragon just shrugged and walked out.

"Sorry I couldn't stick around Nasuada. It was nice meeting you." Eragon added as he came to the doorway.

The dark haired girl looked at him and smiled.

"Thanks the same Eragon. I hope to meet you again soon." She said.

Eragon just nodded. He exited the room completely and walked as slowly as he could back to his own room. There he closed the door softly before putting on some random music. As the speakers filled with tunes Eragon fell onto the floor. His breath was hitching and pains were coursing through his system.

Of course Murtagh was straight. Of course he had a girlfriend. Of course he could never like Eragon that way. Eragon screamed silently and felt the tears finally fall.

The chatting continued on in the living room. The sounds were muted, but still reached him. Every laugh was a stab in his heart. Eragon just tried to burry himself deeper into the bed, into himself, and just forget the world around him. He was rewarded for his patience when he heard his mother say her goodbyes to the couple and the door shut.

The brunet sat up. He rubbed tiredly at his face. The tears had dried on his cheeks, but he didn't care. More important stuff existed in the world. Eragon got off the bed and lay down on his stomach, a hand starting to fumble after something underneath the bed. A small cry of triumph left him when his hand came in contact with the box he had been searching for. He heard his mother's footsteps then. Cursing mentally, Eragon jumped up and sat silently down in front of his messy desk, a hand already starting to flip through the pages of a random school book.

Selena entered.

"There you are." She said. "I'm going out for a minute. In all the excitement I seem to have forgotten to buy groceries."

Eragon turned around. The brunette smiled at her son. Eragon tried to answer with one of his own. Smiling seemed wrong to him lately.

"I won't be long!"

Eragon watched her go. He listened as she rustled around in the kitchen before she finally left. Eragon sighed. Now he could finally get to business.

Then the phone rang.

"Hello?" Eragon answered automatically.

"Hey you."

Arya. Eragon sighed to himself. He wouldn't be getting off the phone for a long time.

"What's up?" He asked and sat down.

"Nothing much." Arya replied. "It's just that… I'm worried about you Eragon."

Eragon flinched. He hoped Arya hadn't noticed his dark mood of late. It seemed Arya was sharper than he gave her credit for. Or he was just a really bad actor. Eragon believed the latter more.

"Worried, why?"

"You've been rather quiet lately." Arya said after a short pause.

"I'm always quiet Arya," Eragon said, trying to be cheerful and knowing he was failing.

"You know what I mean." Arya said sternly. "Is something wrong? You know you can talk to me."

"Of course. But there's nothing wrong, really." Eragon lied quietly.

There was nothing he could talk to Arya about anyway. He didn't want to push away his only friend, not now.

"Bull." Arya said flatly. "You just won't tell me what's wrong. Why Eragon? I can help you."

No one could help, so Eragon had told himself time and time again. No one could, and no one was going to get the chance to.

"Really Arya, I'm -"

"Finish that sentence with fine and I'll come over and kick your arse."

Eragon fell silent. He sighed quietly.

"Eragon, please." Arya begged softly.

"What can I say Arya? I-" The brunet paused. "There's so much going on and I don't know what to do anymore."

"If you don't open up I can't help you! Please, please don't pull away now." The dark haired girl said mournfully.

"I can't… I can't tell you Arya. I'm sorry."

"Era-"

Eragon hung up before his friend could finish speaking. He shut it off before she could call him again. The house phone started to ring shrilly a few minutes later. Eragon ignored it. He stood up and walked into the hallway. He locked the outer door with a quiet click. Then he walked back into his room. He locked the door behind him, leaning onto the wood afterwards.

A soft tear leaked from his eye. Quiet sobs started to build up inside his chest, slowly making their way out of his thin body. Eragon fell to the floor, too tired from keeping it all inside. It seemed that everything that had happened had broken his wall. And Eragon hated himself for that. Oh, how he hated himself!

The brunet hugged himself as his sobs increased in volume. All the hurt seemed to be pressing against his skin, wanting to be let out all at once. And it hurt, it hurt so much!

Suddenly the ringing stopped. The house was filled with an eerie silence. Eragon heaved for breath as he tried to get back to his feet. The box was still under his bed, but peaking out from underneath the duvet now. He kneeled down and pulled it out. Then he put it up on top of his bed and opened it. The brown eyed teen dug around inside it until he finally found what he was looking for. It was an old knife, well preserved and looked after, with the initials B.S.T.

Eragon bit back another sob. It had been given to him by an old friend of his mother's. Brom S. Teller. He had died just a few years prior, in an accident of all things, and just before that he had given Eragon his most treasured pocket-knife. Eragon had looked after it ever since.

It had been his companion through many a hard episode and night. There had been a time when he had actually carried it with him. He had been so nervous that someone would discover it, but thankfully no one had. And now it seemed that he needed to seek its comfort once again.

It was then the phone started to ring again. Eragon jumped in shock. Then he remembered something else. No one, most likely Arya, had left a message despite the frequent calls. So, when he heard the machine being connected, he was actually shocked.

"Hello, you've reached the Rider's residence. Unfortunately, no one's home at the moment. Please leave a message or number after the beep, and we'll get right back to you." Selena's comforting voice echoed softly.

Eragon braced himself. The beep sounded and he was half tempted to open his door to hear it better. He decided not to.

"Eragon, where are you?!" Arya called desperately. "I know you're there! Please pick up!"

The brunet bit his lip. His breath hitched as he stood once again. He hated hearing Arya sounding so helpless. And so he started to hate himself even more.

"Please, I know something's wrong. Eragon, talk to me."

Eragon struck the wall behind him with his fist. The sobs were building up again. He shook his head weakly. Why, why had Arya chosen that day to try to talk to him? Why not the day before, or even the next?! It would have been so much better, oh so much better.

"Eragon, if you don't answer me in ten seconds then I'm calling your brother! I don't care where he is or what he's doing; I'm siccing his arse on you!" Arya told him loudly.

Eragon felt his breath catch. No, anything but that! It would mess up everything!! He almost made a mad dash to the phone but then thought that it wouldn't make a difference. Before he made it there it would already be too late, or Arya would demand an answer from him and then call his brother anyway. Either way he was screwed. So, clenching his jaw, he stayed put.

"Oh, Eragon…" The girl sighed. "I'm going to get that answer from you if it so kills me."

Then she hung up. Eragon hit the back of his head against the wall. Stubborn tears had begun to fall again. He shook his head once more and felt determination fill him. He had something to do, and he intended to see it through.

Eragon dried away the dampness from his previous and present tears. Then he grabbed the knife again and walked over to the desk. There he sat down and wrote down a few well chosen sentences and walked over to the door, opening it and let it fall halfway shut behind him. Then he lugged over to the bathroom and let the door close behind him.

Fear was entering his heart then. Could he do it? Should he do it? Maybe he just needed to talk to someone? Surely… there was another way out of it?

But no. Eragon had thought it through. There was no other way. So, he sat down in the tub, turned on the water and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. Then he studied his arms. Small, almost delicate scars ran along his once smooth skin. He touched a few of them. A stubborn tear leaked and fell onto a particular pink line. Eragon shook his head and flicked opened the knife. Then he slashed.

A feel of pleasure/pain attacked his senses. He hissed before slashing the other wrist. The same feelings rushed over him. The knife fell from his numbing fingers. It made a metallic sound as it hit the tub below him. Red liquid oozed from the cuts and was soon straining the rising water soft red. One tired hand turned off the water. It was freezing, but Eragon didn't care. He didn't want to care anymore.

His head started to pound. It was then it all hit him. He was actually doing it, the thought that had sneakily stayed with him week after week, every time a new line had been carved into his arm. He was actually killing himself.

Images of his family assaulted him then. Images of the father he had never known and never cared about, of his uncle and his cousin, of his mother and of Arya… of Murtagh. They were all looking down at him. And, there in the background stood Brom, gazing at him sadly. Eragon closed his eyes and felt his head start to shake. He wanted the images gone! He just wanted to sleep! He just wanted to get away from it all.

The little water that was soaking him was turning redder and redder. Eragon felt his head loll back against the edge of the bathtub. Everything was swimming now. He felt nauseous but didn't have the strength to do anything about it. The world was turning dark, and all he could do was to cry. Eragon bit his lip and felt one arm fall into the cold water, the splash wetting his chest. He felt a drop that wasn't a tear fall down his cheek, surely straining it red. But he didn't care, no, not anymore.

"I'm sorry." The brunet whispered into the empty house.

He felt the need to express himself, to say anything, whatever, just something. But no, what he left behind would speak for him.

As time passed Eragon felt almost as if a burden was being lifted from his shoulders. As if he was being cleansed, purified from the feelings he held inside. It was as if he spoke those forbidden words now, they wouldn't matter anymore. So he did.

"I love you Murtagh. Forgive me."

Eragon laughed brokenly. He didn't recognise his own voice anymore, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to open his eyes even if he tried. So, silently, he spoke his final words into the empty bathroom.

"I'm sorry mom, for not being a better son, for not being like Murtagh… for being such a disgrace to you. I'm sorry Roran, Katrina. I'm sorry for not being able to come to your wedding after all. I'm sorry Garrow, for being such a brat when I was younger." Eragon felt his breath hitch, but still he carried on. "I'm sorry Arya, for not letting you in, for not opening up more. I'm sorry for being such a lousy brother Murtagh. I'm so sorry. I hope you'll all be happy once I'm gone."

Eragon imagined he could hear the door opening, but knew it was just his imagination playing with him. If he listened closely enough, he thought he could hear Murtagh call his name. Instead he blocked out the sounds his mind was making and started to hum a familiar tune.

"This place is so… empty. My thoughts are so tempting… I don't know how it got… so bad. Sometimes it's so crazy. That nothing… can save me. But… it's the only thing that I have."

His body was starting to feel cold, oh so cold. And the cold water probably wasn't helping any. But Eragon sung on hoarsely.

"I tried to be perfect… It just wasn't worth it. Nothing could ever… be so wrong. It's hard to believe… me. It never gets easy… I guess I knew that… all… along. If you believe it's in my soul… I'd say all the words… that I know. Just to see if it… would show. That I'm trying… to let you know. That I'm better off on… my own."

Even though his eyes were closed, Eragon could see the world go black around the edges. His other hand slipped off the other edge and fell over the side of the tub. Small drops fell to the floor, barely making a sound upon impact. Eragon winced. The pain was never ending. When was it going to end? He just wanted to go… He couldn't take it anymore!

"…agon…"

No, the voices were returning. Eragon tried to shake them away, but the nausea only got worse. And his head had fallen forward now. His neck was starting to hurt, but he didn't care about that either.

"…Eragon…please…"

Eragon was tempted to shout the voices away. They seemed to echo inside his mind. He didn't want them to be there. Not now, not when he was so close to the end.

"ERAGON?!? WHERE…"

The brunet groaned softly. He was sure he had actually heard that. But that was silly. He was alone in the house. Everyone was outside enjoying themselves… without him, always without him.

"…YOU??…"

"Eragon, Eragon…" He said to himself.

Suddenly someone started to bang on the bathroom door. Was someone… actually there? But, oh God, his entire body was aching now. He felt sick to the core. Everything was just blurs and muted sounds.

"Good night Eragon." The brunet whispered to himself and lost consciousness.

And, just before everything turned black, he saw two wide hazel eyes and heard the fanatic call.

"ERAGON!"

Murtagh hadn't been feeling comfortable ever since stepping out of the house to go on the date with Nasuada. In fact, the entire thing had been a disaster. They hadn't been able to find the tone at all, and the evening had been spent in awkward silence or even more awkward small talk. And Murtagh didn't know why that was. But something inside of him kept telling him that something was wrong. He had a strange feeling that he should have been at home… at home with his brother.

"… Murtagh?"

"Yeah?" The dark haired male said disoriented. "I'm sorry; my mind seems to be wandering."

Nasuada smiled sadly.

"This isn't working." She stated. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."

Murtagh wanted to say no, that he was just a little preoccupied, that they could just try again later. But he couldn't find it in him to lie. Nasuada deserved better than him.

"Maybe." He said instead.

Nasuada sighed. Murtagh opened his mouth to comfort her, to say anything at all, when his phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Oh Murtagh, thank God I reached you!"

Murtagh frowned. It sounded like Arya, but he had never heard her sound so worried before. And she was his brother's friend. Why was she calling him?

"Arya?" He asked hesitantly.

Nasuada stopped. She looked at him worryingly.

"Yes, but save your questions for later!" Arya said hurriedly. "Quick, you have to go home! I can't get a hold of Eragon!!"

Murtagh sighed. He racked a hand through his hair as he answered.

"I'm sure his battery's just flat."

"He won't answer the house phone either! I think Selena's out or something. Murtagh, please!!"

Murtagh froze. He had never heard Arya beg before. His blood was running cold.

"How long ago was this?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Ten minutes? I don't know! I'm just so worried." Arya said; her breathing sounding laboured over the line.

"Why, surely everything's okay?" Murtagh asked hesitantly.

"You don't believe that even for a second." Arya stated. "And if you don't get home soon, I don't know what…"

Arya didn't have to continue. Suddenly Murtagh forgot everything else and hung up the phone. He didn't even say goodbye, to either girl, just spared Nasuada a second glance before he ran home.

Thoughts were running through his mind. He didn't know why he was feeling so panicked. Eragon had no reason to do anything stupid. He admitted that his brother had seemed rather reserved and even sad at times, but surely everything was okay? Arya was just worrying over nothing. And if Eragon didn't answer the phone it was just because he didn't want to answer Arya's calls. Maybe they had fought?

But he was still feeling panicked. It only intensified when he came closer to his house and saw Selena's car gone. He ran up to the door and rattled the doorknob. It was locked. Selena wouldn't have done that. Surely not… Eragon?

Murtagh swore. He fished out his keys and unlocked the door hurriedly. He slammed the door open and didn't care enough to close it behind him. He felt more than he saw Nasuada enter after him, breathe coming out in pants from having run all the way. He searched every room, panic only increasing.

"Eragon?" He called out.

No answer.

His brother's door was unlocked, revealing an empty room. He checked it anyway. Behind him he could hear Nasuada call for Eragon.

Everything looked to be in place. But… there was a box on the bed that Murtagh couldn't remember seeing before. And, on top of the desk there was a piece of folded paper. He picked it up.

To my family it said in Eragon's familiar handwriting. Murtagh felt his heart stop. He tore it open and read only a couple of words. His hazel eyes were searching for proof that this wasn't what his heart was telling him… that he was holding his brother's goodbye note.

I'm sorry… didn't want to cause you more pain… disgrace… only in the way… say sorry to Arya and everyone else… better this way… loved someone too much… the passwords to my computer… bye all…

"Eragon." The name slipped past his lips softly.

Murtagh felt tears pressing at his eyes. His other hand clenched itself painfully.

"NO!"

The older brunet stormed out of the room and ran through the entire house one more time.

"ERAGON!?! WHERE ARE YOU?? ANSWER ME!" He hollered.

Nasuada shook her head when he looked to her for confirmation. He banged his fist against the closest wall.

"ERAGON!!"

"I haven't checked the bathroom yet…" Nasuada supplied.

Murtagh ran the few steps down the hall and started to pound on the door. He checked the doorknob; locked.

"ERAGON!" He screamed.

Panic finally taking over he started to kick down the door. After a few kicks it gave away. Murtagh didn't take in the whole room at the first glance. All he saw was his brother's eyes flickering open for a quick second before closing shut.

"ERAGON!"

Murtagh dived into the room dragging his brother's slack body up of the tub and into his arms. Blood was soon staining his clothes.

"No, no. No!" He murmured.

Murtagh quickly found towels and started to apply pressures to the slit wrists. Blood still oozed, but Murtagh just continued to bind them harshly around the wrists. Tears had leaked now, falling down his face.

"Call an ambulance!" He screamed to a horror-stricken Nasuada.

The girl nodded and was quickly dialling the number and nearly shouting into the device in her hand.

Murtagh held Eragon in his hands, shaking his head back and forth as he almost saw the life pass from the smaller brunet's form. He stayed by his side until he heard sirens, and even then he didn't let go. The blood had stopped, but now he feared it was because there was none left.

A minute later he was harshly removed from his brother's side. He screamed but couldn't hear his own voice. Paramedics hurriedly took away his precious Eragon and started to ask him questions. But when they saw that Murtagh was in no shape to answer them they simply took him with them to the hospital. Murtagh could only remember Nasuada yelling that she would call Selena.

The minutes passed, but Murtagh felt nothing. Without Eragon in his arms, he felt nothing anymore. He was lead into the waiting room, but he didn't respond to anything. The world around him simply ceased to exist.

Ten minutes later Selena bursts inside the hospital. Murtagh lifted his eyes from the floor for the first time. He saw her talk with a doctor. Then he saw her break down. Murtagh slowly got to his feet and made his way over to his heartbroken mother. The instant she saw him she dived into his arms. Murtagh held her as she sobbed. Himself, he had no tears left.

Hours passed, and still they had heard nothing. They had sat down, but Murtagh couldn't find rest. Selena had stopped crying only minutes ago. She was silent as well, but Murtagh knew that inside she was asking herself what she had done. For he himself was asking the same questions. What had he done? What hadn't he done?

"Ms Rider?"

Selena's eyes seemed to come alive again. Murtagh looked up as well.

A doctor who looked to be in his early forties stood in front of them. He had a frown on his face and a sad look in his dark eyes. Selena's sobs returned.

"Is he…?!"

"Your son will make full recovery Mrs Rider." The doctor, whose nametag read Dr Ajihad, informed them.

Selena held a hand in front of her mouth.

"Oh, thank God." She sobbed quietly.

"I'm sad to inform you that it is in my belief that this hasn't been your son's first suicide attempt." Doctor Ajihad told them.

"… What?" Selena whispered.

"Your son has scarring that suggests this isn't his first time cutting, if not trying to take his life. I take it you weren't aware of this fact?"

Tears started to fall from Selena's eyes again. Murtagh clenched his jaw. Eragon had tried it before? But why? Since when?!

"No!" Selena sobbed loudly.

"Would you stop upsetting my mother?" Murtagh growled.

"I'm sorry." The doctor said mournfully. "It wasn't my intent at all. But seeing as your brother is not yet eighteen, I'm alleged to tell your mother this."

"It's alright." The brunette said hiccupping softly. "Continue please."

The doctor nodded, eyes still clouded with empathy for his patient.

"It's hospital policy that your son needs to go through a psychological evaluation before he can be released. I hope you understand Ms Rider."

Selena dried her eyes before she gave a grave nod.

"He's still unconscious, but you are allowed to go and see him." Doctor Ajihad finished.

"When will he wake up?" Selena asked as she got up shakily.

"It's hard to say. But I would say within the next twenty-four hours." He answered.

Selena gave another shaky nod. The doctor silently lead them to the room before he, after gently informing them that he would be checking in later, walked away.

Murtagh was afraid to look inside the room, afraid for what he would see. Selena pushed open the door and stepped inside. Murtagh was rooted to the spot, only being able to see his mother's back disappear and hear her sit down heavily and once again break down. The brunet clenched his jaw and willed himself to go inside. He shut the door and finally looked up.

The room was stark and white, just as Murtagh had imagined. There was only a single bed inside of the room and a couple of chairs in the corner, a small table between them. A TV was latched onto the ceiling and a white cabinet stood just by the bathroom door. Murtagh forced his eyes away from the surroundings and to look to his brother's bed.

Eragon lay among the white sheets, looking far too young and small. Murtagh winced at the sickly paleness in his cheeks and the screamingly white bandages around both of his wrists. A wire was connected to his brother's chest, and the soft heartbeats echoed eerily inside the room. If Murtagh hadn't known better he could have mistaken his brother for dead.

Selena sat in a third chair by the bed, holding one of Eragon's hands and gently sobbing onto it. She kept saying prayers, but to who Murtagh didn't know for Selena wasn't a religious woman.

"Oh, Eragon." She sobbed softly into the silence.

Murtagh suddenly felt himself wake. He sat down into one of the chairs, feeling it shift under his weight and creak softly. Selena lifted her gaze. Their eyes met.

"Why don't you come and sit here with me?"

Murtagh felt a sickness rise within him.

"I'm fine here, mother." He answered.

Selena looked at him, worry in her eyes. Then she sighed and walked over to him. A gentle hand stroked his cheek just like she had done when he had been younger and had gotten hurt.

"You look tired. Maybe I should run home and find some new clothes for you?" She murmured.

Murtagh frowned. He looked down at himself and winced. His jeans were still slightly wet, no wonder he had been uncomfortable, and both his jeans and sweater had blood on them.

"I'm fine." He replied calmly.

"Nonsense. I can just run down the street and buy new clothes if you don't want me to go home." Selena said warmly.

Murtagh sighed. He had been caught. He hadn't wanted Selena to have to go pass the soiled bathroom where her son had almost killed himself. Not so soon after the fact. She might have started to clean up the mess if she had gone home. And, for some reason, Murtagh felt the need to do so himself.

"Alright, you win."

Selena nodded. She grabbed her purse and walked out of the room. Murtagh managed to stay inside the room for ten seconds without doing anything. Then the nausea returned and he fled to the bathroom, emptying his stomach for the small meal he had had mere hours before.

After rinsing his mouth he stood for a short minute and studied his still brother's form. Then he walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

End of The Beginning

A/N This story will have two endings, as per request of 3rdDeath. One will be happy, and one will be sad. I'll reveal more about this in the next chapter. So therefore you can choose the ending you like best when the time comes.

Reviews are always appreciated! They help me along, especially now that I'm sentenced back to the school bench and am not having a great time at all! Oh, and they are always heart-warming, so help me along ne? Flames however will be laughed at and used to put a flame-induced end to a dear teacher or two. :evil grin: