A/N: Helloooo!

I am getting the impression that there are a few people liking this? Yay

This chapter is sort of short, I apologize.

ANGST HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER

Or at least what I attempted to make sound like angst

*thumbs up*

If you must cry, do not do so on my fanfic.

You probably won't cry though; unless you're like me. I cried while writing it… :-/

Well, that is all.

Enjoy?

-Kit Kat Cass

P.S. LasagnEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Benny took a bit longer than usual to get up the next morning. When he finally got up, he was somewhat surprised to find Nicely already in the kitchen, making coffee.

"Good morning, Nicely," Benny greeted.

Nicely looked up. "Ah. Good morning." He handed Benny the cup of coffee, before stepping back again, as if worried about invading his personal space.

Benny looked in the cup suspiciously.

"Don't worry, I didn't drug it or anything. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah, okay. Well, thanks," Benny said, before taking a careful sip. Upon realizing it was indeed normal coffee, Benny took a longer drink. "Um... Nicely... I thought about last night... I'm sorry for overreacting like that. I should have understood that you couldn't choose to love me; it ain't your fault. But, don't get me wrong, I'm still mad at you for what you've done, and I'll never be your mate."

Nicely nodded. "Thank you, that's more than I expected you to do for me. I'm glad that we'll be on good terms when I leave." His tone was strangely grave.

Benny walked over to the couch and sat down. "You're movin' out?"

Nicely smiled sadly. "In a sense."

"Well, are you movin' out or not? There ain't an in between."

Nicely sighed. "I said there was only one hundred a hundred or so of us on this planet. If we're immortal, how do ya think that works?"

Southstreet shrugged. "I don't know... you said specifically 'on this planet'... do they go on another planet when they get too old?"

Johnson shook his head. "No. That's not it. You see, Benny, no matter how different we are than other livin' things, we're still alive. Our purpose is to reproduce. For that, we need our mate. And now that you've rejected me, which I understand totally, I ain't got a purpose no more. There's no point in me being here."

"What d'ya mean? You've got a purpose, Nicely, and you know it. Nathan needs you, all the guys need you… I need you."

Nicely swallowed hard. "No, you don't need me, Benny. You've managed most of your life without me. I'm the one who needs you. I need you more that you can imagine, and I need you to do more for me then you want. I know you don't want to be my mate, and that's okay. You'll be okay."

Benny set the coffee down on the table in front of him and got up. "I don't know where you're goin' with this, Nice', but stop it now. I may not want to 'mate' with you, but we can still be friends, can't we?"

Nicely shook his head. "I wish. But it wouldn't work. I would still love you, I would grow more and more obsessed with you, and I know I'd do something that I'd regret. I'd hurt you, Benny. I'd force myself upon you and you'd be stuck with me forever. And that's my worst nightmare. Hurting you. I can't stand the thought. I'd rather die and be away from you forever than hurt you."

Benny looked at Nicely with wide blue eyes as he pieced together what his friend was suggesting.

"I'm dying, Benny," Nicely said, emotion too obvious in his tone. "I'm going to die in a few minutes."

"What? But, you can't die, you told me…?"

Nicely shook his head. "I said we couldn't be killed. If someone shot me, or even if I shot myself, I would come back in a day. But this is different. It's what we do when we want to live anymore don't want to live anymore. It's a painless death, but slow. It's like evaporating. I started an hour ago. At this point, there's nothing left of me, this is my spirit form."

"But–"

"– Yes, I look the same to you. Humans can't see our spirits, so your eyes are seeing my human form. But if you touch me, your hand will go right through."

Benny frantically tried to disprove his friend, but as he reached out to his shoulder, he found that there was nothing in front of him but empty air. "What? Oh God, Nicely, what's going on? Please tell me this is some sort of trick!"

The spirit shook his head. "No. I wouldn't trick you, not after I've already tricked you and made you mad. I'm not here anymore, Benny. I'm not here to hurt you and to trick you and lie to you. I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you. And I know that, now that I'm gone, everything will be better for you."

"No, it won't be!" Benny yelled, "you can't leave me, Nicely. You're my best friend and I can't stand the thought of you dying because I overreacted!"

"Please, don't say that. This isn't your fault, not one bit. It's all my choice. I don't deserve you as a mate. And you don't deserve me. You deserve much better. You deserve a normal wife and a normal family, and I know that, with me gone, that's what you'll have. You'll have a better life without me than you ever could have had with me. This is all my choice, so don't you worry yourself for one second thinking that you somehow caused this. Go ahead, celebrate my death. I want you to be happy."

Benny opened his mouth to say something, but didn't, as he noticed the image of Nicely fade dramatically.

"Oh, well, I suppose this is it," Nicely said, his voice muffled, "There's no point in telling you I love you, because you know that. So, I will say this: you are the best man I have ever known, and I hope that you forget me entirely, because I was nothing to you. I only caused you pain. So don't bother remembering me, and may you have the best luck in anything that you do. Goodbye, Benny Southstreet."

"Nicely Johnson, don't you–" Benny tried to protest, but he was cut off as Nicely disappeared entirely.

"Nicely…?" he muttered quietly. There was dead silence in the apartment as reality sank in. Nicely was gone, and it was all Benny's fault.

"No…"

[][][]

Benny looked out the open window of his flat, half-heartedly lighting the cigarette. His third today. He inhaled, ignoring the burning feeling in his lungs. It was nothing, really, a little pain on top of everything he was already feeling. In fact, it was almost welcome as a distraction from the emptiness and silence in his flat. He had tried so hard to follow Nicely's advice and forget him, but he just couldn't. His every thought pulled him back to how much he missed his dead flatmate. He still couldn't believe that Nicely was gone. Dead, forever. Benny was alone. Alone, without his best friend. Alone with the thought that he had killed him.

My fault.

Benny couldn't stop thinking that, despite all that Nicely had said, it was entirely his fault. It was undeniably all his doing. He had killed his best friend.

His mental image of Johnson was still fresh as ever. That rather adorable face, with innocent hazel eyes and light messy hair. He always smiled, always. Until the last day. Benny had hurt him, so much that he took his own life.

Southstreet wasn't surprised to feel tears beginning to spill from his eyes again. He had cried so often in the three days since Nicely's death that he had given up trying to be strong. His entire life had come to a screeching halt. He hadn't eaten, slept, or left the flat since that horrible day. He saw no reason to. What was life without Nicely? Was there one for him? How could Nicely possibly have believed that Benny would have no trouble forgetting someone who had meant so much to him, living as if he had never touched his life?

I'm sorry, Nicely. So sorry. I overreacted. I know you didn't choose to love me. It wasn't your fault. You weren't trying to hurt me. I don't know why I was offended by your love. I hurt you. I don't hate you, Nicely, I hate myself.

Please, come back.

I need you.

I'm dying.