Timmy and Sparky sat beside the bed, with the human snuggled up against his pet, his back against the dog's chest, with Sparky holding him protectively in a gentle embrace.

Timmy stared at his clock while Sparky licked his face and collarbone lovingly, trying to soothe his friend and owner. Timmy hadn't said a single word for several minutes, and the fairy dog was beginning to worry a little. It was unnatural for his human to be silent for this long. He usually always had something to say.

"Are you okay, Timmy? Please talk to me." Sparky said softly, licking his cheek affectionately. The child did not respond, too lost in his own thoughts to acknowledge his pet.

Sparky whimpered softly and nuzzled him. He knew that Timmy was definitely not in a good place at the moment, considering what he had seen from his kid lately. He was so scared for his friend, and all he wanted to do was make everything better for him.

Timmy mumbled something under his breath, almost sounding like singing, and Sparky had to strain his ears to hear what he was saying. "Running out of light and out of time… and no one here gets out alive…"

"What are you singing, Timmy?" Sparky asked.

"Just a song that I know." Timmy responded, "A song that I love."

Sparky shook his head. "You shouldn't listen to songs like that. It won't help you get better."

Timmy shrugged dismissively. "It's just the kind of music that I like. It has nothing to do with how I feel right now, because this is an entirely different situation."

The dog licked him lovingly again. "You should surround yourself with good things that make you happy. I hate seeing you this way. It hurts me to see you suffering."

Timmy forcefully pushed himself away from Sparky's gentle hold on him and stood up, his expression angry, and his eyes full of sadness. "What is there to be happy about? NOTHING! Everyone wants this! They ALL want me to die, so I am giving them what they want most! What I want most!"

"You know what I think, Timmy? I don't think you really want this. I think that you're just confused, and you're not sure what you want, so you've convinced yourself that this is the best option for you."

"It is the best option for me! The only option! All of my friends abandoned me, they left me without saying why, and they don't even care. They all enjoy seeing my pain and my suffering, they enjoy seeing me broken and hopeless!" He picked up his picture of himself and Sparky and flung it across the room, the frame shattering against the wall as glass flew in all directions.

Sparky stared at the now destroyed gift, feeling sad and wishing that he could something to help him. "Everything will be okay, Timmy."

"You keep saying that, but nothing ever changes!" Timmy hissed at him. "Everything is still the same!" The child got up and paced angrily around his room while continuing to rant. "You say everything will get better, that you can fix me, but it won't, and you can't!"

"Timmy-"

"No!" Timmy cut him off harshly. "I don't wanna hear any more! It's all bullshit, all of this! The truth is, nothing will ever change. It won't ever get better! It'll only continue to get worse until I can't take it, and I'll tell you right now that I won't take much more of this."

Sparky looked at him sadly, not knowing what to say. He didn't know what Timmy wanted from him, and he could tell that Timmy didn't know, either. The kid was still pacing nervously, and Sparky noticed that he was indeed looking a little conflicted at the moment, like he couldn't decide wether or not he actually wanted to die.

Timmy sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at the floor, not saying anything for several minutes, lost in his own thoughts. Sparky watched him, concerned for his friend's personal safety and preparing himself in case Timmy decided to do anything that could bring harm to either of them.

The fairy dog watched as his owner got up from his bed and went to his door. Sparky started to follow, but Timmy turned around and pointed to the bed. "Stay."

"But I want to come with you, Timmy. I have to keep you safe."

The child shook his head. "No. I'm just going down to the kitchen, and I want you to stay here. I'll be alright. Don't worry so much." He opened his door and went out into the hallway, closing his door behind him, only leaving it open a crack so that air could circulate through the room. Sparky sighed and lay down again, waiting for him to come back.

Timmy descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. Looking around, he spotted a rack of knives on top of the refrigerator. He stared at them for a moment, and walked up to them, reaching out to grab one. He studied it, turning it over in his hands.

He stuffed the knife into the back pocket of his pants, pulling his shirt over the exposed handle to conceal the weapon from prying eyes, notably Vicky and Sparky. He felt nothing then, his mind clouded and his thoughts unorganized.

"Put it back, Timmy." A voice said behind him. Timmy turned and saw that Sparky was standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring into the kitchen straight at him.

Timmy stared back at the dog, his own stare blank and emotionless. "I thought I told you to stay in my room."

"Do you really think that I'm going to listen to your commands when you're like this?" Sparky asked rhetorically. "You are not well, Timmy. Now, please put the knife back."

"Why should I?" The child asked, his voice also void of feeling. "There's nothing for me here. I am a waste of space, and I am a burden to all who know me. It's clearly evident by my family's neglect of me, that no one wants me here."

"I want you here. I can't live without you, Timmy. You know that. I love you. More than anything."

Timmy smiled, but it was a fake smile, one of disbelief and refusal. "My friends said words that were similar to yours, and they lied. So, I know that you're not being truthful right now. You're lying, and you're hoping that I will just believe what you're telling me without a second thought. I'm not stupid, Sparky."

"I know you're not. You are very smart, and I know that you don't want to do this. Not really."

Timmy narrowed his eyes. "You don't know that, nor do you know what I really want. Maybe I'm just waiting for the right time. Maybe that time is already here, and I could be doing it any day now."

Sparky started to approach his owner again, but Timmy pointed the knife at him. "Stay there, unless you want me to do it right now. I don't have the patience for this. I'm gonna die, and it's going to happen soon."

"Please don't." Sparky whimpered, begging his friend as his eyes were brimming with tears. "You're all I have left. I don't want to lose you. Please, just let me help you. I can show you that you CAN be happy! Life is not as bad as you as you're making it out to be. I can show you happiness!"

Timmy sighed and lowered the knife, putting it back in his pocket. "It's too late. YOU'RE too late. It's already decided, and soon it will be over. All of this will end, and the people who see me as a burden won't have to worry about that anymore. I will be dead, and the world will be better off for it."

"That's not true, Timmy. There are others who care about you."

Timmy smirked, slightly amused. "Really? Name three."

"Cosmo and Wanda, and me." Sparky responded immediately. Timmy shook his head. "You guys don't count. Name three more."

Sparky stood there in silence, not being able to think of anyone else. Timmy sighed. "Exactly. See? I told you. No one cares."

He lifted the knife to his wrist. "You know, I've always wondered what's on the other side of the veil. And if there's nothing, than that's fine. Either way, death will take me, and accept me."

Timmy started cutting, and not knowing what else to do, Sparky desperately grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his chest, embracing him as his mouth made contact with his friend's own.