Shades of Purple
Summary: What happens when the one you love the most dies of what you gave them? BenMichael. Oneshot. First QAF fic.
His hand feels so cold in mine. Lifeless. Well that's what he is. The doctor comes in and tells me I need to go home. I've been here for days. I don't want to leave Michael, I want to see his beautiful face for as long as possible. I ask to stay a minute more with him, I need to hold him a while longer.I cry for him and the disease that took him away. I feel guilty for being selfish but I don't know what I will do without him. I also feel like a murderer, I gave him this disease.
We had planned to die together, to enter the unknown with our fingers laced. But death is never that simple. Especially with AIDS. You never know when you'll drop dead. I've been told you are not supposed to fear it, but it snatches you so quickly and makes a slow, torturing exit. I hope Michael's death was peaceful.
He never complained, no matter how bad it got. Even at the end he just kept smiling that gorgeous little grin that made me love him more every time I saw him. When I meet him four years ago in his bookstore I thought Wow, what a gorgeous guy. I wanna fuck him." That's how I was before Michael. That's how I got AIDS. That's how I fell in love with him.
When people die you think about all the times, good and bad, that you had with them. All I can think about is this argument we had about three years ago before the condom broke. I had been really depressed and not myself and had said that maybe it would be better if he was positive. He started to cry and left. I couldn't find him anywhere. He didn't come back for two weeks. When he returned I had never been more happy to see anyone. Then he dropped the bomb. Why he had been so upset when I said that. He had it. He had what I had said I wanted him to have. I don't normally regret anything but I regretted ever saying those words, but of course it was too late. He was like me. I had tried so hard for him not to have to live the life I have to live. But now we were taking the same medicine and seeing the same doctor, each of us knowing our fate could come at any moment.
Since I had been positive longer, Michael worried about me more than himself. Whenever the slightest thing would happen, a cold, cough, or the flu, he'd get so worried that he'd drop everything for me. About three months ago I got a stomach virus. I called him and told him not to worry. He was in this important meeting for his store, so of course I told him to stay, but of course he came home and made sure I got better. He could always get me better, in more ways than one. When he got really sick less than a month ago I had gotten really scared and hadn't known what to do. I wasn't as strong as him. He told me he'd be fine and just go to work. But when I got back he was on the floor, barely breathing and his eyes were wide but he couldn't see me. He never did again.
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