As soon as he caught his breath, the silver light reigniting in his eyes, the wounded boy couldn't help but let them wander around the vehicle. Everything was so cramped, tightly packed, and along with the current situation, it made it hard for him to breath.

"Gold!"

The small amounts of doctors held him down, attempting to calm him with words that meant nothing. Not now.

"Where is he? Is he alright? T-This is all my fault!"

But their answers never satisfied him. How was everything "alright"? How was everything going to be "just fine"? Why did they think that he cared whether or not he himself was alright?

Why did they keep ignoring his main question?

It finally hit him when he saw the other gurney in front of him, behind the doctors. It hit him when he saw that whatever – whoever – lay on the gurney was covered with a light blue sheet.

It hit him when he caught sight of a badly bruised arm, just peeking out of the sheet enough to meet the red-haired boy's sight.

"N-NO! GOLD!"

All of a sudden, his heart raced, his eyes watered. With eyes blurry, throat dry, heart aching, stomach flipping, mind black, he screamed.

"GOLD, I'M SORRY," he screamed, tears now streamed down his battered face, ignoring the shooting pain in his head, "Oh man, I'm sorry! I'm-"

I'm sorry…

He couldn't help the migraine he woke up with that morning. It didn't help that he'd occasionally have that same dream. It didn't help that now, three years later, he couldn't forget the very night he let his closest friend die.

Not only that night, but the night before, had he dreamed of that hurtful period. He could still remember the day of the funeral, how the air was tense and the sky gray, the gold sun failing to penetrate the sorrowful covering. How just before grabbing his jet-black suit, he punched the wall out of frustration, knowing fully well that it would hurt. He couldn't avoid the fact that once he stood before the grave of his closest friends, fellow classmates glanced at him, wondering how he could be so careless, wondering why he wasn't the one dead.

But he couldn't change it.

He could still remember the time when all of a sudden, something overwhelmed him, pushing his almost literally towards the forest that grew adjacent to the cemetery. How everyone had stared at him, aghast that he, as his closest companion, even dared to leave the funeral at such a crucial moment. He couldn't help the feeling of embarrassment that took over him as Gold's own mother stared at him, wide-eyed, wondering why he would kill her son, and wander off, leaving him for dead.

But he couldn't change it. He had to go.

And running like his life depended on it, running while ignoring the sweat that grew on his forehead, ignoring the formality of his dress, the red-haired boy could still remember when he heard the leaves of the forest ground crunching in front of him. How he looked up to the source, and how he tried not to cry when he saw that familiar, wild raven hair. He could remember how when he saw what the boy still wore, his once-empty heart began to hurt. He couldn't run away or cringe when he saw that it could be no one else but him, seeing that the apparition's eyes held that same gold happiness.

And he remembered his promise, the one he'd never break. Every week, every day, when the sun began to set, he would visit Gold, no matter what. This, Silver vowed to never break.

Because he was all that Silver had left.

Now, memories rushing through his aching head, Silver crawled out of bed, realizing that the clock on his wall read 10:23. Grabbing his uniform shirt, his silver eyes scanned a large chart of which contained daily estimate times for the sunset, depending on the time of year. Giving a "hmpf", he ran out the door, taking in the usual sight of the morning sky.

The gravestones protruding out the ground never seemed so lonely before, especially on a morning like this one. The sun shone, but it didn't really matter. Today would be just like every other day.

"Geez, wake up, you guys," Silver scoffed, looking at the two teens lying underneath the giant oak tree of the cemetery, "seems like some dog dug a hole next to the mausoleum." Finally jumping up at the sound of two shovels thrown on the floor, the two teens glanced up at the cold Silver and got up reluctantly.

"Aww, come on Silver," the dark haired boy yawned, lifting his bright red hand to scratch his head, "not before breakfast!" Silver only rolled his eyes at the lazy boy's excuse, causing his unusually hyper friend to butt in, retorting an excuse of his own.

"You see," the other blond-haired, pearly-eyed boy stated, "if he doesn't get his food before vigorous activity, he may faint on the spot. And you don't want that on your hands, now do you?"

Silence. And Silver walked off.

The blond boy sighed before picking up one of the shovels on the ground. "Come on, Dia. Let's get this over with."

Not ignoring the pain in his stomach, Dia pouted. "But Pearl!"

"Just come on, Diamond! I want that food, too!"

Meanwhile, with a shovel over his own shoulder, Silver weaved in out of the rows and rows of graves. He passed Gold's grave twice, sternly examining that it hadn't been vandalized overnight. Ever since Gold's death and the excruciating guilt that came with it, the red-haired boy gave up whatever dreams he had considered for his own future, eventually becoming the caretaker for the cemetery in which Gold, along with his parents, were buried. Seeing that he'd killed his own friend, he was scared to leave, thinking he might hurt others in the future. However, although he may not have thought highly of most of them, Silver never intentionally wanted to hurt people.

He was able to still see him, talk to him, just like they used to. Although no one else could, he could still ask him for advice and help with his life, when he knew he was utterly lost. He could still yell at Gold for being stupid, scoff at him for being slow, just like he always had.

Nothing had changed.

Scratch scratch scratch…

Exhaling loudly, Silver whipped his head around to see someone rubbing a gravestone. Walking over, Silver was surprised that the brown-headed culprit never turned around to face him.

"Sorry, rubbing's not allowed." The stranger chuckled before turning around, revealing his familiar, bright green eyes. Shaking his head subtly, the man shoved a hand into one of his pant pockets. All the while, Silver's expression never fazed as he noticed that as the brunette stood up off the dirty earth, his pants never retained any filth.

"Wow, someone sounds official," the 'stranger' stated, smirking at the red-haired boy, who answered with a shrug and a small smile. "Even after three years, I guess some people never change." Silver chuckled, half-heartedly. The natural sounds of the earth filled the awkward atmosphere as the green-eyed man hesitated before speaking again.

"…I heard about Gold. I'm sorry I couldn't make it for the funeral."

Silver shook his head, hands awkwardly gripping the shovel over his shoulder. "Well Green, some things can't be helped."

"Yeah…", Green replied, looking up to the sky. At that moment, he looked flawless. "Did you see when they brought Red down?"

Silver shivered slightly, nodding solemnly. "Yeah. The funeral was two days after my birthday." Green nodded, now quiet.

"Yeah well, some things just can't be helped."

"Dia, come here!"

Throwing his shovel on the ground next to his now-sweaty red cap, said boy obeyed, walking over to where Pearl stood behind the mausoleum. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

Pearl's blond head peeked over the side of the mausoleum once more, this time, staring at his red-headed superior. "Do you see what I see?"

"…I see Silver..?"

Pearl sighed. "Well duh, but can you see who he's talking to?" Diamond leaned forward a bit more before shaking his head.

"Wha-he's talking to himself again! Why would he do that?" The other boy huffed, standing up straight once more with arms crossed. It seemed, by the look on his face, that he'd come to a conclusion.

"He's doing it again," he started, concerned, "last time he talked to the air, I saw him crying. You don't think he's….crazy, do you?"

Diamond glanced at Silver, who still talked with no one around, one last time before shaking his head, a smile on his face. "Naw. Silver's got a lot on his shoulders. He needs to let it out somehow."

His silver eyes met up with the man's green ones. "I wish I'd gone with you guys…" For once, Green didn't respond with a chuckle or a scoff; for once, he was silent.

"No, you don't, "he started. "Mount Silver overpowered him, the both of us. We were so close…but anyways, I digress." Stepping backwards, Green glanced up as the sun peeked through the clouds, shining as it hadn't done in a few days. "Seems like I've gotta go, man."

"…You don't have to go right away…"

This time, Green laughed, almost as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, as if he knew there truly was something better, waiting for him. "I feel like something's calling me." Silver sighed, trying not to express the pain in his heart again. He'd lost them.

"I'll tell Red you said 'hi', yeah?" And before Silver could protest, Green started walking towards a certain grave, his grave, and just as the sun blinded his silver eyes, Green disappeared, gone.

This time, Silver prayed that Blue was somewhere safe, still alive. Alive. Because at that moment, it ws hard for him to tell if he was still breathing.

Looking up at the sky, the boy cursed under his breath upon seeing the setting sun. He began to run, despite the yells of the two other teens behind him. It wasn't until he heard an unusually feminine yell that he stopped, dead in his tracks.

"Hey!" That voice sounded somewhat familiar…. "What's up with the dead flowers around my dad's grave?" Silver turned towards the source of the voice; his eyes widened when he saw that the outburst had come from a young girl, about his age, kneeling on the grassy ground before a gravestone. Her knees were skinned and dirtied from the earth, as she glared at the red-head, her eyes softening in a matter of seconds. And as he gawked at her sandy brown hair, pulled back in ponytails, and her chocolate brown orbs, he didn't realize that she, too, gawked back.

"I was hoping you'd, y'know…get some flowers growing back here," she stated again, motioning to the space around her father's grave, meeker than before. "It'd…It'd mean a lot to me…"

Shaking his head slightly, the boy closed his silver eyes, collecting his thoughts. "Um, yeah… sorry. That's my fault."

She nodded, standing up, her pigtails bouncing from the movement of her head. "Well….thanks."

"I'll get on it soon….", Silver trailed off, staring at her for a few more seconds before realizing the time. Waving slightly, he ran off towards the woods, feeling the curious stare of the shy girl going through his back. He couldn't help but flinch as he thought about it. He'd have to ask Gold about why he felt like this.

And as she watched him sprint to the shade of the woods, Lyra couldn't help but wonder why the silver-eyed boy hadn't remembered her.