Chapter 2! For anyone that doesn't like character death (after having been warned already, I really see no point in doing this, but...) Don't read the rest of this fic. Really. Don't. Just be happy that the previous chapter had the hotness. ALSO! Please forgive that this, and the next, chapter(s) are so short.

Warning: Mature content and language, hence the rating. Also, Dirk is older than Dave. Character death.

Disclaimer: I, obviously, am not Andrew Hussie, nor do I claim to be. I've just got a sick little mind that created this story using his characters.


Track to an Impossible Forever

The sunlight streaming through the window is the thing to wake me up. What gets me up off my ass and worried is the fact that Dave isn't here. Instead, a piece of paper with a note in red ink from Dave is lying on the turntables.

Bro. I know it's uncool for me to leave this for you, so don't be a dick about it. I'm sick of all this shit. I'm done with the heartbreak. If that really meant nothing, then I guess I have no reason to stay here. Don't worry. A cool kid like me can live on his own. I had wanted more time, but I guess that didn't happen. The one thing I really hate, though, is that I can't really hate you. I despise how you live, how you're always with someone that doesn't deserve you. But whatever.
Keep Cal from doing his crazy shit.
I... I love you, Bro.
Bye.
Dave

The note falls to the floor. That little fucker. He left. I should have known. It's not like he hasn't dropped clues for the past few years. I just never thought anything of it. But that's not what's important. Dave's gone.

Reality practically bitch-slaps me in the face. My little brother, the one that has always looked up to me, is gone. He left. Ran the fuck away. All because of me.

Shit. Why did I have to say that? I know I didn't mean it. What had driven me to saying that Dave letting me take his virginity was nothing important? Was it the fact that I didn't want him to leave? Great job that did. Now, the most important thing in my life is gone. Fuck.

Day after day, I go out, searching the town trying to find him, only to come back to the apartment alone. I'm reminded every time I walk through the door that he isn't here. I'm pushing myself over the edge to insanity, and despite trying to hide it, people notice. I don't eat for days at a time. The music for my shifts are starting to lack. Everyone that comes onto me at the bar just seems absolutely repulsive. Dave was right. They don't know shit about me. They don't deserve me. The one person that did is gone because of me, and nobody can ever take his place.

I can't bring myself to stop, though. I have to keep looking for him. I need to find him and make up for being such an ass to the one steady constant in my life. An apology won't work, I know that much. Dave needs sincerity of actions, not words that could be lies. I've got to make this right between. But I need to find him first. I need to find him now.

I can't take this anymore. I've spent weeks trying to find him. I've checked every bar, record shop, photography business... there were countless times that just ended up with me sitting on the bench of the park he loved to go to as a kid, regretting the entire thing. How could I have fucked up this badly? Every time I was there, for just a second, it felt like Dave was there, too. Standing right behind me, waiting to go back home. Whenever I looked, though, there would only be the grass and treeline.

That's how I got to where I am now. Standing in the middle of Dave's room ready to end it. I look around, seeing the photos he's taken over the years, the albums he's made and the posters that cover the walls. Breathing in deeply, I take my sword and place the tip of the blade at the flesh covering the small gap between the seventh and eighth ribs on my left side. With the angle the sword will be at, the lung will be torn and my heart pierced through, the blade will come out between the T4 and T5 vertebrae... Not an instantaneous death, but that's all right. The pain will be my penance. I press the hilt towards me and the cold metal breaks skin. Focus, Dirk... steady pressure, keep the angle exact... The shock comes, and my body falls forward, knocking my shades off and shoving the katana further, going through the lung. I reach out with a blood-covered hand and grab a picture from Dave's collection. I hold it carefully, desperately, letting silent tears fall as my heart is destroyed by the metal forcing itself through my body.

I think of only one thing as my vision fades and blurs, and blackness creeps into my mind. I love you, Dave.


Sorry this chapter was so short... but, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it. There will be one more chapter. Only one. Reviews are always welcome, and any flames will be used to make an awesome bonfire for my birthday party.