A/N: Hey.. I um.. I didn't realise anyone was reading this. I'm sorry I've just disappeared from this story but um... The whole thing is like a massive trigger. It's like writing words which replay this symphony of pain but I don't want to stop. So I have to keep going, for you at least. You don't think about writing. You just sit at your computer and bleed.
Thank you for your support. I know it's short, but I just wanted to say thank you.
Baz paced up and down the hotel corridor for what had to have been the hundredth time. It was hard to breathe, and Baz feared that if he stopped moving he wouldn't ever move again. Eventually he forced himself to sit down on the cold floor of the corridor, deciding that he had to check social media and assure fans that everything was alright.
The internet was going crazy, everyone was being so lovely and concerned and Baz had to stop himself from letting out a sob. It was all too much- Simon didn't deserve this.
The day passed in a blur until eventually it was dark. He didn't know how long he was staring at the floor but eventually he felt two hands on his shoulders, and for a second he allowed himself to believe it was Simon, his warmth and blonde hair folding over him.
But of course it wasn't. Instead some girl he didn't know was staring down at him, and she sat across from him in the corridor, looking concerned.
"Hello Baz." She greeted kindly, though there was a very audible amount of sorrow and sympathy in her voice that made him want to cry.
"Hello." He choked out, and immediately she hugged him again, enveloping him in a warm embrace that he couldn't even feel. He was numb and worried and he just wanted to see that Simon was alright.
Eventually she let go, and looked back at him. It was only then that he noticed the long white coat.
Of course. At first he had thought she was just a very caring fan but now of course he understood, she was the doctor. She was the one who had drawn the short straw to tell him.
"Is he-" He started, but couldn't finish. Cursing at the choking sob in his throat.
"No! No oh god no I'm sorry! Of course you would think that." She consoled him, practically face palming herself.
"Can I... Can I see him?" He asked, worried that in so short a time all of his clever remarks had gone down the drain.
"Of course, follow me." She said, and led him down the winding halls, the blaze of white blinding him so much that it was impossible to see.
Eventually they made it to the room. Baz laid eyes on the tiny boy in the bed, and rushed forwards, enveloping the boy in his arms.
Simon looked up at him, and ripped the oxygen mask of his face. Kissing Baz with fevour and whispering to him words of comfort and Baz's cheeks were lined with more and more tears.
"Shhh... Shh... I'm ok, you're ok, we're ok... I love you."
And of course Baz didn't believe him, but in that moment he just breathed him in, allowed his scent to wash over him.
"I'm fine Baz, just lack of oxygen to the brain."
"Any more tumours?" Baz demanded.
"No. Luckily for us they seem stubborn and want to stay where they are."
"All the more for us." Baz said, grinning, and Simon laughed, but the action caused his body to rattle with breaths that refused to cooperate with him.
Baz felt like his heart was forming back together after hours of worry but at the same time he could feel the fractures working it's way across the surface of his heart, a surface which had been unreachable before Simon had entered his life.
Simon was tired. After a few more minutes of kissing and whispering and hugging Simon settled into Baz's arms, and fell asleep.
Have you ever been in love with someone who's dying? It's destructive. It takes every part of you and makes you question whatever right you thought you had to be alive. Because you know that that person never deserved what they got and you wish you could protect them from the pain, but you can't.
So you wait. You take the angry blows they throw at you in their fury and fear of death because you love them.
You love them so desperately that it's hard to breathe, and you know this cancerous growth will spread and every minute instead of becoming precious becomes poisonous.
There's no hope. They're going to die.
And you know in that moment that you're dying. You're dying as irreversibly as they are and as irreversibly as your love for them is.
And before you know it, they're gone.
And so are you.
