I apologise for the characters being a bit OOC. I just tried to imagine how they'd really react in this sort of situation. Please leave me your thoughts!

After a terrible incident, there's nothing much else Scapegrace can do except write Thrasher a letter.

Warning: Rated T for character death, language and a bucketful of angst.

Dear Thrasher,

It's been about six months now since you left. That's weird, isn't it? I always told you how much I wanted you to leave me alone and when you suddenly did, I didn't know what to do with myself.

I stay in bed all the time now, talking to you. There's not much else to do. Clarabelle visits me with this man who says he wants to help me 'get better'. They're liars, Thrasher. Clarabelle's in on it too. She says she wants to help me, but her pathetic crying and begging falls on deaf ears.

I don't want her. I don't want anyone else. For the longest time I used to pretend that what happened never actually did. You never left the house and that bitch with the sword didn't kill you. I never found her, Thrasher, but I will. I promise I will.

I didn't understand how someone so full of life like you had been killed, and so quickly too. She didn't have any reason to harm you- maybe that Sanguine sent her, I don't know. I don't really know anything right now.

I used to want to kill. You, more than anyone else, know that. But because you're gone, and you never really liked violence, I'm making you a promise. No killing. You have my word and wherever you are, I hope you appreciate it. Appreciate just how stupidly LOST I am without you.

The other day Clarabelle visited me. She basically dragged me out of bed to show me something and do you know what it was? A rainbow. A fucking rainbow. Was that meant to cheer me up? It probably would've cheered YOU up, but never mind. I told her to go away, to not bother me again and she hung her head miserably before finally leaving. If you'd been there you would've told me not to be so mean. Sorry, Thrasher.

She doesn't exactly like me anymore. Don't blame yourself, because I know you will. It's not you. It's just that you were always her favourite, and now that you're gone, I'm just the remaining one who's not quite dead yet. But I'm close. Oh, I'm close.

And I can't wait. They know this. They don't want me to do anything 'stupid', Thrasher, so they've taken all my stuff away, even my god damn BELT. But there are pills, Thrasher, and when no one's looking I'll drink, yes yes yes, drink those white pills so I can sleep and see you, yes I will I will I WILL.

Clarabelle knocks on the door of her withdrawn friend's room, hoping for some sort of reply whilst knowing that whatever the response is, she probably won't enjoy it.

"Vaurien," She forces some enthusiasm into her voice, "Vaurien, the doctor says that there's something he can do to help you. Can I come in?"

There's the softest murmur in reply and she carefully opens the door, beaming as she sits in the chair next to his bed. "There's some medication, apparently, that kind of dull things down, just for a little while -"

"No."

She falters, trying to keep her smile, when in reality all she wants to do is crawl next to him and forget the rest of the world, just like he has.

It hasn't been easy, the positive attitude and the seemingly endless attempts at comforting. She's barely had time to grieve for her closest friend, because she's had to care for the broken other one. No one else would, after all. But she'll never give up on him. Never.

Valkyrie had sent her a letter, stating that she was sorry and that they were close to tracking Tanith Low. Clarabelle had repeated the news to Scapegrace, though she wasn't overly sure that he'd even heard her.

Sometimes he scares her, just how bad he's got, though she'd never tell anyone. When he isn't staring blankly into space, he shouts and mutters and punches himself. She knows, deep down, that he'll never get over Gerald and the life he could've had.

".…No?" She asks gently and he turns his head to look at her.

"Because I don't want to forget. I need to remember."

"You wouldn't be forgetting, Vaurien!" She tries, then decides to change tactics, "Oh, guess what! Dr. Nye's given me a few extra days off, so we can, you know, hang out or something! What do you think?"

"Oh," He murmurs, closing his eyes again, "Yeah, why not. Thrasher'd enjoy that."

She blinks fiercely and takes a deep breath, though her mouth crumples, "Aw, Vaurien! Please! Don't go all crazy now!"

He frowns, staring dully at the cracked white ceiling.

"Thrasher…Gerald…is dead." She hates those words so much. They physically make her feel sick, but how else can she get him to realise? Her remaining friend just has to get better. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying it like that. But you KNOW this!"

"Right." He mumbles, his eyes drifting shut again as his voice cracks, "Sorry."

"No," she sighs and holds onto his hand, which is ice-cold, "I don't mean to…upset you…"

"Do you think he knew?"

She tilts her head in confusion, "Sorry?"

"Thrasher. Before…before he died. Do you think he knew that I liked him?"

"Oh!" She nods quickly, trying to reassure him, "I'm sure he did. Of course he did!"

He looks at her witheringly. "Yeah. That's what I thought." He rips his hand away from her loose grip, "But how could he have known? I'm stupid. I'm stupid. God damn stupid…"

She grabs his hand back before he starts scratching himself again, her blue eyes filling with tears. "Stop this! You need to get better, you hear me? You need to get better and get back to being who you are! Because I'm scared, Vaurien! I'm scared and I'm lonely and I'm grieving!"

"You shouldn't even be here." He replies bitterly.

"Well, guess what? I am. I am, because I care for you. Because you're my friend and I've already lost one, so I'll be damned if I'm losing you too!" Her voice involuntarily rises, "I miss him, you know! I do! Do you think I constantly try and cheer you up because I ENJOY seeing you act like a corpse?"

He stares at her with surprised eyes, which used to be so dull and deadened - a lost cause - and drops his head. She feels inexplicably guilty and tries to push the feeling down.

Gone are the days when she was carefree, ditzy, in a world of her own. Too much has happened to her and her loved ones for that person to stay, "Promise me you'll try and get better. I'm here, ok? I'm staying."

He gives a single nod, slumping back against his pillow and as the sun sets Clarabelle can't help but cry.

Fin.

Wow, that was heavy. I kind of hate myself for that. Please review! xD