Author's Note: I am deliberately not naming them at the first part because we-love-them-so much-their-names-are-so-sacred-we-would-know-who's-who-by-just-the-descriptions-and- yeah-I-also-like-to confuse-anyone-who-reads. Comments and reviews are very much appreciated.


Don't Go

He was there at the sink, coughing away his life. He still had his dreams, he could see himself sending rockets to space and blazing paths no one had yet created. "This will go away," he thought while his limbs struggled to support him. He would stand, he would move on. He cannot stop now.

"Not now, please," he begged to anybody who would listen. The hollowed warehouse echoed his prayers.

And he was there, leaning on the closed bathroom door, listening to his every belabored breath, to his every dream his body couldn't anymore deliver. He closed his eyes.

"This is not happening. He will stay here. Alfons is not dying."

The thought of seeing the one good thing that happened to him in this world face his demise propelled him to confusion.

"This is a dream, this is not happening."

It is like seeing his brother die all over again.

"I am not here. He is not here. He is not dying. Not here, not with me. Again."

But the fits continued and so with the groans and blood, so he dared open the door. And he was there, his back away from him, hiding his ebbing life. He wrapped his arms around him and listened to his failing heart. He closed his eyes and breathed him in, it felt so real, so him. But no, if the one he was holding on for sanity was like this, if he would disappear this day or the next, then it might as well not be.

"Please tell me that this is not real. Convince me that I am a madman, and I went inside myself. Tell me this is not happening to me. To you. Please." He pushed the hurt in his throat.

Alfons turned around and held Edward's hands. He leaned on and whispered, "Lie to me, tell me that this is a dream, say that I can close my eyes and I'll be better." He then desperately held the man to his arms.

"I'm too young for death," he panted.

"I'm too old for dreams," he sighed.

"I'm dying," he admitted, "Make this go away. Anything, please…Edward."

Edward tightened the embrace.

"I will; because I'm dying too."