A/N: Hey Guys. I am... ok. Love hurts, I know. But it hurts a little less when you feel a little love coming back to you. Sure they might be dying but I... both at the same time, have never been happier or in more pain. And I am, in a lot of pain. The whole idea of losing someone I care so much about really hurts, so much sometimes the idea makes me think I can't breathe. But sometimes you have to bleed to know you love someone. And I know, god I know, that that's what this is.

Chapter dedicated to Morbid Targarondale your review made me smile, so I hope you enjoy this.

Baz awoke the next morning with an ache in his neck. It took him a few moments to realise that he had fallen asleep with his neck propped up against the wall. As usual, the hospital bed wasn't big enough to accommodate the both of them.

Simon stirred slightly beside him, coughing lightly and painfully, winced with each convulsion of his throat. Baz wanted to call a nurse so badly. It ached his heart to see Simon in so much pain, but he forced himself not to hit the panic alarm and stay still, instead whispering sweet nothings in Simon's ear and holding him close.

When he finally stopped coughing, Simon groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into Baz's chest, trying to hide himself in the dark grey of his jumper and block the world out from his sensitive eyes.

"I love you." Simon whispered, the words coming out hoarse and wretched, his throat sore from coughing.

"Don't say that." Baz said, closing his eyes against the pain. It coursed through him like a knife through butter so much he wanted to scream for the grief and pain of it.

"Why not?"

"Because if you say that now, with no reason, it sounds like a goodbye... And I can't take that right now Simon, I mean, we both know I'm cold hearted and all, but still!" He forced a grin onto his face, though it seemed as though the happiness might cause his skin to fracture.

Simon said nothing.


Baz POV

Eventually Simon was discharged. He was obviously a lot more scared though. He could see it now, the death that was coming towards him and didn't know how to cope. He never talked about it though.

I could see him deteriorating. In a selfish sort of way, I believed it was harder for me than him. Because I could see the person I loved most in the world dying. One day he was going to die, and I would be alone.

It was that sort of thing that caused me to stay up until 2 am every night, struggling to breathe because when in my nightmares Simon drowned from the fluid in his own lungs, I was drowning too. And there was no one left to save me.


The fans were over joyed of course, and while Simon slept I worked day and night on the book, mostly on the sections I knew Simon didn't want. He wanted it all to be happy about his death, to forget the pain, but that just isn't the truth.

This is the truth:


The pain is unbearable. It's this crushing weight and despite all the love I feel for him I can't handle the pain. I can't breathe, I can't move just let me go just let HIM GO.

I remember once, when I had had trouble falling asleep, Simon had told me this:

Imagine a movie in your mind. Make sure your eyes are closed and the lights are off, you're all tucked in and comfy, and make up a mental image of something nice, but don't open your eyes. Eventually you'll fall asleep and you may possibly further dream about that topic, so make sure it's something happy.

At the time I had dismissed it. I had lied and said I had used that technique and it had made me sleep better. It was a very obvious lie, and of course he saw right through it.

But recently, Simon has been going to sleep earlier and earlier. He's tired. Sometimes he falls asleep on the sofa, and he has to take regular naps in order to function somewhat normally. This results in me going to bed by myself very often, and then it takes me a few hours to go to sleep.

So when I finally close my eyes, I imagine he's there sleeping next to me, healthy.

We're running away from the press after they saw us kiss for the first time.

We're staring up at the stars at 2 am talking about our future.

Stolen kisses, tears that no longer need to be shed.

He's healthy.

Of course it's fine while I'm dreaming, but I cant stop thetears when I wake.

And the worse thing is, I know he hears me. How do I know? Because he forces his own sobs to quiet just to listen to me.

I just want him to be better.

A/N: Reviews make me smile, was this too cheesy? I'm sorry if it was :)