Tom stared in complete and utter shock at the ghost in front of him. How was it even possible? Tom had never believed in ghosts before. Sure, when he was little he believed in things like Santa, The Boogeyman, The Tooth fairy, and The Easter Bunny. But ghosts? He never believed in them. Or at least he always said he always said that he didn't believe in them. He had spent weeks researching ghosts and all kinds of paranormal activity in the tenth grade, but had decided that he was too afraid of dying to even believe in such things. He refused to. Until now.

Bill stared at Tom for a moment, blinking as he cocked his head to the side, causing Tom's heart to flutter slightly. He hoped to God that it was just a reaction to his medicine. Bill was looking at Tom as if Tom was crazy. He didn't believe him, clearly. But what person would want to believe that they were dead? Who would really want to be trapped on Earth for God knows how long instead of being in Heaven, or whatever was out there?

"Wow they really have you drugged the fuck up, don't they?" Bill laughed softly, drawing his hand back, apparently not realizing that he hadn't grabbed Tom, but had gone straight through him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. First, my beautiful Escalade is killed, and now they put me in a room with a ghost who thinks he's fucking alive!" Tom nearly yelled out.

Tom felt as if he was going to have a panic attack of some sort. It wasn't every day that you end up in the hospital with a limited recollection of past events, let alone have to share a room with a ghost. It was a bit overwhelming. Throw in some heavy prescription drugs dripping into his veins through the IV and you had mass chaos. He just couldn't understand how a ghost could even exist, let alone be a cocky mother fucker, and clueless to the fact that Tom could see straight through him, to the buildings outside that surrounded Saint Listing Hospital. The ignorant son of a bitch.

"Well it looks like somebody needs a nap, Mister Grumpy Pants!" Bill exclaimed as he stood with his weight on one hip, his hands on his sides. It made Tom wonder how that was possible when he didn't weigh anything and was seemingly made of air.

"What did you just call me?!" Tom groaned loudly. He was fighting with a fucking ghost. How great was that, right?

Tom couldn't help but notice Bill's pouty lips. They were of perfect size. Luscious and seemingly sparkling as if having some ghostly lip gloss on. Tom secretly wondered if make-up existed on the other side or what you died with on was what you carried on to the past life. Tom made a mental note to wear his favorite clothes and stuff as many Samy Deluxe CD's in his oversized pockets as he could. Perhaps he could at least listen to some good music when he passed on.

Tom closed his eyes and shook his head. He was alive. He was just…broken. Why should he be thinking about death? Especially in the presence of the ignorant dead. But something about Bill made him think, and made his heart ache. Tom prayed to God that he was having a heart attack. Tom Kaulitz was many things. He was a player, a womanizer, a liar, and a jackass. But Tom Kaulitz was no fag.

Bill huffed and shook his head as he glared at Tom. He didn't understand the guy. A ghost? What the hell kind of hallucinogens had this guy been taking? What was going through his head? Bill sighed heavily and looked past Tom to the door, refusing to look at the man. Whenever he did, he felt as if his heart would explode. If only he had a heart to back that theory up.

"Well then. Since I'm apparently unwelcome here, I'm going to go to the cafeteria." Bill snapped as he seemingly walked on air, walking through the actual door, not even noticing. Tom just stared like he had been talking to a mental patient who thought he was a glass of orange juice.

"You just walked through the fucking door!" Tom exclaimed, but it was too late. The stubborn jackass had disappeared and Tom had decided that it was for the better. Perhaps if he just went to sleep, he would wake up and it would all be a dream. And his beautiful Escalade would be parked in the garage, ready to roll.

Tom lied down fully and shifted his head to the side grumpily. He was so used to sleeping on his right side, which was conveniently hooked up to the IV, and his legs were shot to shit. So there Tom lied on his back, his head turned to the side, his eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep. If only he had known that the beautiful specter was watching him closely, so tempted to touch the sleeping man, to see if he was real. Bill hoped to God that he was.

-------

Weeks later, Tom still hadn't been able to convince Bill that he was a ghost. Bill was as ignorant as ever but now Tom was used to it. He seemed to almost enjoy Bill's ignorance. He wished that if he was ever a ghost, he could be so ignorant. It would be a cruel thing to know of your death without being able to stop it. So Tom decided he wouldn't press the subject. He didn't want to hurt his new friend. His new friend, who made his heart ache, made his head spin, and make his body shake and writhe in the middle of the night with pure desire and lust. So perhaps the infamous womanizer really did have a taste for a different kind of candy.

Tom had to admit that the only thing that was good about the hospital was Bill. The nurses were strange, even Nurse Bobby, who was seemingly so old she couldn't remember anyone's names so she called everyone "dearie." It was the only theory that both Tom and Bill could come up with. But strange or not, Nurse Bobby's odd factor didn't even compare to that of Tom's doctor, Doctor David Jost. He was incredibly eerie, and for some reason, he gave Tom the creeps. Bill said that Dr. Jost was his doctor, but for some reason all the staff, as well as Dr. Jost, had stopped talking to him. He told Tom frequently that to anyone else but Tom, it was as if he didn't exist. Perhaps it was because he no longer did.

Tom sighed heavily and stared down at his legs. Why wouldn't they just fucking heal? Dr. Jost was in the room, explaining the next and newest surgery that he would have to undergo. Tom just wondered if they were coming up with new surgeries to put him through so they could milk the insurance company for all they were worth.

"Hey Dr. Jost? Could I ask you something?" Tom hadn't even waited for a response before he had continued. "I wanted to know about a patient of yours…By the name of Bill Trümper." Tom had finally worked up enough courage to ask the question.

"That's confidential Mr. Kaulitz." Dr. Jost's eyes flashed with warning, his lips tightly pressed together in a thin line, as if daring Tom to go on.

"But…"

"Fine. Mr. Trümper was a problem patient. He never listened to a word we said. He finally got fed up with hospital life and he just ran away. The hospital guards let him past. They thought he was a citizen just visiting." Dr. Jost spoke as if he was reciting lines for a play, which left Tom wondering. The hospital guards never let anyone past, even visitors. They had to be confirmed by all of the doctors. Dr. Jost knew something. Tom was sure of that. As if sensing Tom's thoughts, Dr. Jost made his way out of the room. "I'll check on you later." He spoke bitterly.

It hadn't been more than an hour before Bill had come in and sat on Tom's bed, cross legged, staring down at Tom's laying form with excitement in his eyes. Bill always looked like a little boy at Christmas time. He looked as if he had just discovered an entire room full of presents just for him. It made Tom wonder if Bill had feelings for him, like Tom had for Bill, even though he was too hard headed to admit it. Could ghosts really have emotions?

"So, what are we gonna talk about today?" He asked in excitement, pressing a hand into Tom's shoulder. Tom bit his lip at the feeling, which he was growing used to, but it still freaked him out quite a bit.

"How about we talk about you? I'm dying to know all about the infamous Bill Trümper." Tom laughed softly as he stretched back, his head resting on his hands as he looked up at Bill, flashing him a wink. Tom could have sworn to God he saw Bill blush.

"Well, Mr. Kaulitz, you are one for flattery aren't you?" Bill laughed and shifted. "Well, I'm the same age as you, nineteen. I'm from Magdeburg, and I came here because I was having some serious stomach problems. But I was doing better! I swear I was! But then I woke up one day, and people stopped paying attention to me and acted as if I didn't exist. My own family even stopped visiting me, even my mom." He sighed, looking as if he was going to start crying. He really was a lonely ghost. Tom was the only one he had talked to in a long time. He was the only one who had ever made him feel almost in love, in his whole life. Or death.

"I'm sorry, Bill. My family died when I was eighteen. A fire. I was out, fooling around with some girl I met at a club, and when I came back…There were fire trucks everywhere. Somehow I knew they were gone, but I didn't want to accept it. If I had been in my room, like I was supposed to be, I wouldn't be here. A part of me wished that I wasn't. But anyways…I know what it feels like…To be alone. You're the first person I've talked to in a long time." Tom sighed and closed his eyes. His family was always a sensitive subject. But something about Bill made him feel like he could trust him. After all, who was Bill going to tell Tom's secrets to?

"I'm so sorry Tomi…Oops! Did I say Tomi? I meant to say Tom. That is…If you want me to…" Bill spoke in his hauntingly phantasmal voice that was out of the world. Literally.

"Oh come on, Bill. You know you can call me whatever you want by now." He laughed softly. Bill was too cute.

"Okay. How about, Princess Fairytale Unicorn Sugar Tits of the Enchanted Kingdom?" Bill batted his pretty little eyelashes at Tom, causing Tom to laugh before he pulled a serious face.

"Call me that one more time, and I'll rip all your hair out of your pretty little head." Tom growled, although he was playing.

Of course, Tom sadly knew that he couldn't do anything to Bill. And that wasn't including all of the bad things he wanted to do, like smack Bill upside the head, or tug on his hair when he was being unreasonable. It also meant that Tom couldn't touch him. Tom couldn't feel Bill's once baby soft skin, or his silky smooth hair. He couldn't taste Bill's flavored lip gloss, or make him take off his makeup and get in bed and just cuddle with him. Tom didn't ever think that it would be this easy or that he would be this okay with converting to the "dark side." He never thought he'd embrace is inner queer eye for the straight guy, nor did he know that he ever had one.

"You wouldn't!" Bill gasped and leaned backwards in sheer instinct.

"Oh I would." Tom grinned deviously, such a look on his face that Bill just wanted to lay down and let Tom eat him alive. Not literally.

Without word, Bill lunged forward, as if to attack Tom, pinning him down, or at least he thought in his spectral mind that he had done so. He froze and stared down at Tom, his figurative heart beating wildly, his mind consumed by the man below him. Tom was frozen too, staring up into Bill's eyes, through which he could see the ceiling.

Bill didn't wait to let his mind start to think for itself, he just dove in, pressing his lips into Tom's. Tom groaned from the feeling of Bill, sinking through his skin, whose hands on his shoulders went right through him as he hovered beautiful in the air. Tom wished the moment could be shared by another warm body on top of him. He wished the warm body belonged to Bill.

Bill seemed to sense Tom's thoughts as he opened his eyes and stared down at Tom, and down to his hands, which were through Tom's body, and through the bed. It took him a while to realize that he wasn't resting on top of Tom, he was hovering, and he was sticking his arms through the man. He felt sick. Could he really be so dense that he didn't realize that Tom was right? That he really was dead and was a ghost? Bill wanted to burst out crying.

Bill stared down at Tom, who was looking up at Bill with nothing short of concern in his eyes, knowing exactly what Bill was realizing at that moment. Bill said nothing. He lifted one hand from Tom's shoulder and held it up to his face to examine it. He could see right through it. How could he not notice that?

Bill turned his hand, examining every single inch of his hand, which was no more than an apparition. Bill was nothing more than an ethereal being, trapped on Earth. Bill slowly reached his hand down and brushed the back of his hand against Tom's cheek, shaking his head as Tom shivered from the touch.

"You're so cold, Bill…" Tom whispered gently as he shuddered, his eyes closed.

Tom slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Bill, his eyes wet, although no tears would fall from his chocolate eyes. He slowly reached his hand up and brushed the back of his hand across Bill's cheek. Bill closed his eyes and tried not to wail in pain. He slowly lied down, his head hovering on Tom's chest. Tom ached to hold him and brush his fingers through Bill's hair while Bill cried, assuring him that everything would be okay and that he was safe and sound with Tom. That he would always protect Bill and keep him warm.

"I'll look after you Bill."

And I'll kill whoever did this to you.