When Brendon thought back to his teenage self, he lamented that younger Brendon hadn’t known his first drink would lead to something as desolate and hopeless as this. It made him a little more positive about his life as a whole- that maybe it was all an accident, he was just hit by a lot of bad luck, bad timing and bad things. That it wasn’t his fault, that it wasn’t a chain of events he had set off himself and made no effort to stop. Sure, he’d tried to quit in the past, but his heart had never truly been in it. On the flip side, he wondered that if he could go back in time and tell his younger self everything that happened to him in the future and why, would his younger self make any effort to change? Would be brush it off? Would he see it as the inevitable anyway, and by trying to prevent it, it would only usher it on faster? After all, he’d still suffer that dumb teenage heartbreak that was so much more than that, but maybe instead of dealing with it like he did, he’d... Move on, or something. But then when Ryan went to Hogwarts, maybe they wouldn’t get back together. Maybe Brendon would have stayed with Andor. Maybe they’d live separate, different, long lives.

Brendon didn’t want that. He always just wanted Ryan, and maybe it was selfish to not really mind having taken this route anymore. Death only ever really hurt those it left behind, in the end, and that was what was really (metaphorically) killing him. That Ryan would remain by himself- and he knew what went on in his husband’s head, because Brendon wasn’t stupid. He was worried about him. Aside from that, there was the obvious fear of nothingness, fear of everything ceasing, fear of an existence- or no existence at all- without Ryan. But not only that, he’d miss colour, he’d miss taste, he’d miss sound and music and people screaming his name, he’d miss his dogs who wouldn’t understand why he never came home again, he’d miss his friends who would go on without him, even, deep down, his stupid parents, who, if they were here, would probably be trying to convince him to repent his homosexuality in order to go to Heaven. God, he hated them- god, he’d never get a chance to repair the relationship like Ryan always begged him to do, he’d never get to see all his nieces and nephews that had done nothing wrong and would be raised just like he had, to be bigoted. All the things he’d taken for granted and all the things he’d not done. Brendon was drowning and it was easy to see to anybody who saw him.

Maybe he was thinking pessimistically, but Brendon had tried his hardest to be as cheerful as usual, like everything was normal, which was hard for a dead man walking, but nobody pulled it off better than him. He was jaundiced and thin and sickly, but- he was still Brendon, you could see it in his eyes and even his smile, though it was considerably rarer nowadays. This instance probably wasn’t one for jokes, but the concept of having 30 days, give or take, left alive, was almost surreal. He’d known it was inevitable- the doctors had made it clear to him it was terminal, along with the fact that he felt himself dying- and it was as awful as it sounded. He was weaker, he felt his bones sharp against the hospital bed, he sometimes wondered what was the point, why didn’t he just go now and save Ryan the hospital bills and the time. But- there was his reason. Sat by his bed. He’d hang on as long as possible if it meant seeing Ryan for the majority of his remaining life. 

Ryan seemed in relatively good spirits, but he had to break the news, which would quickly put an end to that. He did it quickly, joking awkwardly along as he did, trying to laugh or he’d cry and he knew it. Ryan might have taken it even worse, by the look on his face- Brendon quickly took his husband’s hand, holding as tightly as he could muster the strength to. He saw Ryan kind of curl in on himself and rest his head on their joined hands, and had no idea what to say to make it better. Strangely enough, he felt like he was supposed to be comforting Ryan here, not the other way around. Brendon thought quickly, and when he spoke, tried to keep his voice controlled. Moments later Ryan was climbing carefully in beside him, careful not to touch any equipment or monitors around the bed or plugged in or attached to Brendon at some point. He felt an instant sense of comfort and closed his eyes, letting Ryan move his fingers through his hair and tuning out from his laboured, shaky breathing.

[i]I don’t...[/i] He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and Brendon’s chest grew tight, but he didn’t say anything. [i]I don’t know how we’re supposed to fit forever into a month.[/i] Brendon silently mourned the time that had been taken away from not just him, but them. It wasn’t fair. [b]”We...”[/b] Brendon almost turned his head, but didn’t, instead just stroked a thumb over Ryan’s wrist gently. [b]”We never had forever anyway.”[/b] It was true. Long life had never been guaranteed for them, but... They had expected it. Despite everything. Despite Brendon having considerable reason to expect that he wouldn’t live to a ripe old age anyway, they’d taken for granted they would have eachother and life until they were old and ready. He regretted not treating every day like his last when there wasn’t a much higher possibility that every day really could be his final. 

Brendon kind of knew that Ryan was crying now and he couldn’t look, he just listened and stared at the ceiling. [i]Are you scared?[/i] Good question. In truth, Brendon was terrified. He was in considerable frequent pain anyway, but he hadn’t asked whether that would increase towards the end of his life- he hadn’t thought about afterwards enough to be at peace with going there- he hadn’t finished his life, hadn’t done nearly enough to go this young. So, in short, he was petrified, and helpless, and time didn’t wait for him. He knew that every day would be monumentally frightening, everything would be overwhelming in a week, and those 30 or so days would feel like a blink. Suddenly, he could barely breathe, and he squeezed his eyes shut. [b]”Y- Yeah, I am.”[/b]

[i]Cause- you don't need to be. I'll be here, always[/i] Brendon knew that. He smiled despite himself. [b]”I know. It’d be you or Joey, and Joey would bring Wade and Wade would complain about hospitals.”[/b] Brendon went off on a tangent to kind of distract himself, but his throat was still tight. Joey. He missed Joey. [i]I mean, unless I start to get annoying. Then just tell me to screw off.[/i] Laughing slightly, he raised an eyebrow, reaching his free hand up to his own hair to push it back. [b]”If I start to get annoying just turn everything off.”[/b] He gestures to the IV and the monitors, and was very aware it was a distasteful joke. But, again- it was laughing or crying. Brendon was teetering.