A/N: I don't know why the hell I wrote this…
Collins couldn't recall what he was dreaming about. He didn't even know why he woke up in the first place. He lay there in confusion.
Then, he became aware of a soft, muffled…whimpering. It was coming from the other side of the bed. He hoped that maybe he was hearing things.
Alarmed, Collins rolled over to face his Angel.
Just as he suspected, his eyes landed on the slim frame of his lover.
Angel was crying. Crying hard, actually. He was trying to be quiet about it by clamping one hand over his mouth. Painful, breathless sobs were racking his thin body. When Angel became aware that Collins was awake and watching him, he seemed to hold his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut in anger and frustration.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to wake you up…"
Collins' heart went out to his lover. He instantly wrapped his arms around him, one strong hand rubbing his back. He pressed a comforting, calming kiss to his temple. Angel resisted at first, then clung onto Collins for dear life. The Latino angrily brushed his tears away, taking in shaky gulps of air.
"What's the matter, sweetie? Are you sick?" Collins asked him gently. He dreaded the answer.
To his relief, Angel shook his head.
"Then what is it?"
Angel briefly looked up at his lover, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. His delicate, tearstained face seemed to contort with painful emotion and he could no longer make eye contact. He lowered his head, leaning his cheek on Collins' chest. He took a deep breath…
"I don't want to die."
Collins was stricken. That simple, yet somber statement made the brutal, cruel reality all too clear for him.
At a loss of what to say, Collins continued to hold and whisper comforting things to Angel.
He eventually soothed Angel into a fitful sleep.
THE END