A/N: THIS STORY HAS CHARACTER DEATH. YES. DON'T READ THIS IF YOU DON'T LIKE SUCH THINGS.
ALSO THIS IS MILES AWAY FROM GAY-SMUT OR ANYTHING SO DON'T EXPECT THAT.
THINK OF THIS AS A HALLOWEEN SPECIAL OK.
Don't be under the impression this is a story like any of the other I have written, it is not.
With that being said, I hope at least someone can enjoy it.

Panting heavy hard breathes, Kotetsu ignored the muscles in his body that were straining, begging him to slow down, to do anything but continue running. He couldn't stop yet. He was almost there, almost to Barnaby's apartment. This could be stopped, he could save Barnaby, they could be okay.

They would be okay.

They had to be.

When he arrived, muscles sore and breathing laboured, Kotetsu didn't bother to knock before roughly shoving the door open. There wasn't any time. This was urgent. Kotetsu knew that. This wasn't a juvenile prank, Barnaby wasn't one to partake is trifling jokes. This was serious. Dire.

The door swung open, slamming against the wall. As soon as he stepped inside Kotetsu could feel the atmosphere; entirely different from the other times Kotetsu could recall coming to Barnaby's apartment. Somehow the entire place seemed tiny, air-tight, unwelcoming, lonely, empty. Painful.

The moonlight illuminated the entire entry room. Barnaby's lavishly large TV was off, as were all the lights. It wasn't dark, due to the moonlight pouring in, but Kotetsu felt like he might as well be blind. Everything was hazy, blurry, like a grainy TV when the cable was out. Sounds were just static, everything besides his own heavy breathing was filtered into a grating monotone of white noise. He gripped his forehead with one hand, pressing his finger against his temple to gather himself.

A pit in his stomach expanded outward, a black hole of anguish inside of him, swelling and growing with every passing second that he didn't see Barnaby. He had already scanned the room twice, but nothing seemed to comprehend. A blur of objects and shapes were before him, the room he knew so well was suddenly unfamiliar, like he'd ben plopped down in a total strangers home. His knees buckled with tension beneath him, barely able to sustain his weight.

"Bunny?!" Kotetsu's voice was a shout of pure panic. "Where are you? Answer me!"

Silence.

Dead silence.

"Bunny, don't screw around," Kotetsu pleaded, the fear within him rising. Supressing the sting of his aching muscles, Kotetsu charged from the front door, out of the entryway and into the kitchen.

As expected, Barnaby wasn't there. Somehow even the kitchen seemed different, like it hadn't been used in years. Of course, just a few weeks ago he and Barnaby had been in the very same kitchen, chatting and having fun while cooking together.

Had that been fun? Was Barnaby putting on act back then? How long exactly had Kotetsu been blind to this?

The kitchen faucet was dripping steadily. Plinking against the stainless steel basin below like a clap of thunder. Every sound was deafeningly loud in the eerily quiet apartment.

"Bunny, where the hell are you!?" He was shouting again, voice uncontrollably shaky, legs trembling as he stumbled towards Barnaby's bedroom. This was bad. So bad.

Barnaby's bedroom was different from the other rooms, the unsettling feeling Kotetsu had noticed was magnified to an excruciatingly palpable degree, nearly tangible. It was almost like the darkness was filling the air in a physical form, clouding his eyes, blackening his heart, suffocating him. The bedside lamp was on, producing a dim glow that was futile in its attempts to overtake the weighted darkness of the room. But it shone enough to expose Barnaby, who hunched against one of the walls, looking small enough to be a child rather than a grown man.

He lay in a crumpled mass on the floor, stabilizing himself with a lopsided lean. Defeated in posture, he rested inside a semi-circle of haphazardly discarded pills. Clutched in one hand was his cellphone, the phone which Kotetsu had received a desperate call from minutes earlier. Barnaby's fingers were coiled so tightly around the device that Kotetsu could hear the plastic material it was made from lightly creaking—a sure sign it was near it's breaking point.

Trying to keep his wits, or any shred of sanity, Kotetsu examined the floor. His eyes leered at the pills littered across the hardwood. They were strange pills that Kotetsu didn't recognize, the certainly didn't look like typical pain relievers. Whatever they were, there were two bottles of them, or at least two considering the couple of orange pill bottles that lay discarded on the floor. But there wasn't nearly enough pills in plain sight, there needed to be more, there should have been more. Because if the pills weren't on the floor that mean they were somewhere else.

Kotetsu eyes finally landed on Barnaby, a curled up body that shook erratically. Quivering uncontrollably, gurgling in a huddled mass, emitting sounds that were terrifyingly inhuman. Small and meek, lost and lonely. Kotetsu wondered if Barnaby was even aware he had shown up. He was quite sure if he wanted to leave now, Barnaby wouldn't be any the wiser. Of course he knew he couldn't, not with what had happened, not with the horrid noises escaping his friend.

It sank in then that he was too late. Too late to do anything but wait.

Kotetsu was at Barnaby's side in an instant, his hand set on the younger man's back, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What the hell d'you think you're doin'?" Kotetsu demanded jerking Barnaby by the shirt. Despite the aggression in his tone, Kotetsu wasn't angry. The unpleasant hotness of tears glossed over his eyes, but nothing fell.

A splash of vomit sputtered from Barnaby's mouth as the older man tugged him back abruptly. His head lolled, blonde curls falling with a lackluster bounce around Barnaby's pale, sweat dripping face. His eyes were sunken in, surrounded in dark purple circles from lack of sleep. His pupils appeared impossibly small, only black speckles surrounding an enormous green iris. His mouth was curled into a sickly smile as saliva, vomit, and foam dripped from his lips.

"Barnaby, Christ, why did…" Kotetsu couldn't continue. A lump in his throat halted his words, choking him to silence. The familiar sting of his eyes filling with tears, burning warmly at his eyelids as they then began to stream freely down his cheeks.

Kotetsu was glad to cry, but it wasn't enough release. He wanted to scream, to fight, to do anything but face the reality of his situation. But he was stuck facing Barnaby, or rather the disturbingly zombiefied version of his former beloved partner. Seeing Barnaby this way made Kotetsu realize a horrible truth. Somewhere along the line there was something that had snatched away Barnaby's very soul. Something horrible that was now corrupting, hungrily devouring all the beauty of the young man's body and mind. All it was certain to be left behind was a ravaged, internally mangled body.

It was sickening, worst of all it was sickeningly real. Pain that Kotetsu hadn't yet experienced started to scratch beneath his skin.

"You came for me," Barnaby gargled, picking up one of the capsules from the floor. His voice was immensely heavy with hysteria, and coupled with his seemingly sincere grin, Kotetsu thought he looked like some sort of horrendous circus clown from the depths of every child's nightmare. "You came."

Watching Barnaby's choppy, slow movements with caution, Kotetsu nodded.

"So, you'll be with me?" Barnaby asked. His voice was curiously optimistic in tone, considering the circumstances. Spit still spilled over his lips, flowing in a steady stream. With the pill pinched between his index finger and thumb, Barnaby lifted it to Kotetsu's mouth. "You'll come with me." He stated, aggressively pushing the capsule against Kotetsu's mouth.

The pill pressed against the older man's unmoving lips, and Kotetsu didn't dare to speak.

"Why aren't you taking it?" Barnaby insisted, some vigor returning to his tone, the mania in his voice temporarily gone.

Kotetsu glanced at his face, wondering if any scraps of the old Barnaby remained somewhere trapped in the skin of this decaying madman. But Barnaby's eyes were nothing like before, they projected nothing but frenzied delusion.

Breaking their eye contact, Barnaby reached for the floor. Using his free hand, he scooped more scattered capsules from the ground.

Kotetsu kept his gaze steady, trying to look beyond the unpleasant and grotesque appearance of the man before him. The same man who had always been so meticulous about his appearance, the man who was always so on point with his speech.

That man was gone. Barnaby was gone.

(that in itself is a hard pill to swallow).

Tears continued to pour from his eyes as Kotetsu lightly pushed Barnaby's hands away.

"I'm not going," Kotetsu said, softly. His eyes tried to convey gentleness, but he was furious. Furious with himself for letting this happen, distraught that Barnaby had done something so ridiculously stupid.

Barnaby's face froze, suspended in a confused frown. The traces of vomit and spit intermingled around his mouth slowly cascaded down his chin, hitting the floor with low, wet plops.

"I can't go," Kotetsu corrected, peering into the green circlets that had once been the eyes of his young partner. "I can't go with you."

At that, Barnaby's eyes grew wider, insanely wild. He looked rabid, like a violent animal backed into the corner ready to strike. Teeth gritted, he shifted his shoulders, breathed out a heavy breath and bobbed his head. "Don't be stupid. You can come. You just have to take the pills."

He raised his hand, palm open with five capsules resting on his skin. "I took them." The words were an attempt to justify his request. Clearly unaware of the absurdity in his words, Barnaby's crazed eyes fixated on Kotetsu with unstable seriousness.

Carefully, Kotetsu took Barnaby's hand, curling the young man's fingers inward to cover the pills. " I can't."

"Why?"

"If I take them, I'll die!" Kotetsu shouted, frustration, confusion, too many emotions he couldn't begin to understand swelling under his skin. He could feel his face soaked with tears and sweat. He gazed hard into Barnaby's distant eyes, desperately trying to connect with the part of him that was still alive.

Again confused, Barnaby twitched his mouth. With a hard blink he then shook his head fervently. "You're wrong," his words didn't seem confident, they were shaky, uncertain; the foundations of his delirium beginning to crack. "If you take them, we'll go somewhere. Together. A place with only you and I."

"I can't go," Kotetsu repeated, his eyes lowering to the floor. Gripping Barnaby's arms, his fingers clenching onto the cold slimy skin, he whimpered. "I have to stay here."

Their breathing hung in the air as neither spoke. The entire apartment echoed with helpless sobs and wheezing gurgles.

"I don't want to die." Kotetsu finished faintly, he kept his grip tight on the blonde's muscled arms.

"I don't understand," Barnaby spoke his words as though he was regurgitating them, forcing each sound from his throat roughly. "You're being so strange."

"No, no I'm not," Kotetsu looked up to watch three steady streams of blood rolling over Barnaby's lips, oozing from the corners of his mouth. Instantly he clutched Barnaby closer, wrapping his arms around the blonde in a loose hug. "Kaede, my mom, my brother, the other heroes. I gotta be with them. Here. Alive."

Barnaby was silent, his body stiff and cold. His arms didn't move to embrace Kotetsu.
"You have to… be alive?" He asked for clarification, voice tight, posture rigid.

Sniffling against the young man's shoulder, Kotetsu whispered: "Yeah. I do."

"But, I'm going to die," Barnaby stated with disturbing clarity. "Alone."

It was only a moment before the realization was fully upon Barnaby, heavy and horrifying. The reality of what he'd done, the pills he had consumed with such confidence, assured by the certainty he would be with Kotetsu. This wasn't what he thought would happen. Yet it was happening. There was no way to reverse it. The sharp pains in his body, surging beneath his skin, pulsing through his veins, burning and corroding his tissues. It was real, he could feel himself slipping away, losing his consciousness. Losing his life. He could feel himself dying.

It was suddenly fast- but slow, terribly slow. Tears burst from his eyes, streaming down his face to mix with cocktail of vomit, saliva and blood around his mouth. He was aware again, but not by choice. Barnaby longed for his senseless delusions, his numbness.

"I don't want to die!" The words came out muddled together, rolling out of Barnaby's mouth with mounds of thick blood and spit. The psychotic guarantees he had convinced himself of crumbled around him; breaking and snapping any shred of ignorance he had for the magnitude of his choice. "I don't want to die, not alone. I don't want to be alone again! This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Kotetsu, this isn't what I wanted."

He lifted his arms, squeezing Kotetsu's back, trying to stay conscious, stay alive.

Unable to speak, unsure of what he was supposed to say, Kotetsu continued crying.

This wasn't the end he had imagined for the two of them.

Kotetsu had imagined something much more peaceful, years of happiness they could share with the other heroes and his family. This deranged impulsive suicide was a million miles from what Kotetsu had envisioned for them, the future that had been so full of possibilities, so assuredly bright. That future had been stolen from them, murdered by the unseen fragility of their bond.

Kotetsu longed for more time. One more day to convince Barnaby this was a mistake. One more day to give Barnaby reasons to not throw life away. One more day to ascertain the possibilities of the happiness Kotetsu was certain Barnaby had been fighting for. One more day, just one more.

Pulling Barnaby closer, Kotetsu brought his hand up to place it in the wild blonde hair of his young partner. He eased Barnaby's head down to rest on his shoulder, soothingly rocking them back and forth, an unending stream of tears seeping from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Kotetsu apologized weakly, knowing it wasn't worth a thing at this point.

Barnaby made a soft gurgle, as though he was getting ready to speak, but said nothing. A second sound, this one more of a wheeze, erupted as he began to choke, his hands loosened their grip on Kotetsu's back as he slipped from life.

Nothing happened for awhile. The room stayed dark, the feeble lamp still shone, and the apartment stayed soundless but for Kotetsu's muffled sobs.

As Kotetsu held onto Barnaby's body, still warm but now unmoving, soundless, he couldn't stop himself from wondering where Barnaby's hope had been lost.

Or had Barnaby ever had hope at all? He supposed that was a question he'd never know the answer to.

Clutching the lifeless body of his friend close to him, Kotetsu's eyes lingered on the pills scattered around them. The two men, or rather the one man and the corpse, were encircled like they were part of some sick sacrificial ritual. A churning curiosity in his stomach, and strange ideas in his head caused Kotetsu to reach down, retrieving a pill from the floor.

Wary eyes examined it.

"It's just medicine."

The voice of Barnaby, not the insane one whom he had just been dealing with, but the real Barnaby. From beyond the depths of madness, piercing the veil of the recently departed, somehow entering his mind, soothing Kotetsu.

(or is it coercing rather than soothing?)

Smiling, Kotetsu agreed. "Just medicine."

He raised the pill to his lips.