Letting Go...
Title: Letting Go...
Type: Angst
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hei/Ed
Summary: He just had to let go... Give in...
Warnings: Angst, implied character death
A/N: Was prompted by baroqueangel when I asked for some angst ideas.. <3~ Not proof-read at all... was crying too much. ._.;
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Letting go...
It was never something that Edward was good at. Since childhood, the boy would cling to everything, though he'd never say it aloud. Grudges, joys, battered up playthings... All of it was held on to, even past their breaking points. Relationships with people, both platonic and otherwise, were grasped at until both he and the other people involved were left at each other's throats for the frustration they felt with the other.
All because he just couldn't let go.
But now, lying in bed with Alfons, watching the poor, sickly boy just cough and cough... Edward was forced to do just that.
Alfons' medicine sat on the bedside table, moonlight glinting almost blindingly off of the polished glass bottle. Hours ago, Alfons had stopped looking at it, had managed to dull that light in his eyes each time he caught sight of it. But Edward still kept glancing over each time he saw more blood spill out onto the sheets.
The medicine hasn't worked for him yet... But maybe it just needs more time...
Alfons knew better, though. It had been months, and he'd only been getting worse. So, he'd stopped taking the medicine. This past week, he'd barely been able to make it out of bed at all, and had even stopped going to work. That had shocked Edward beyond anything, that Alfons had stopped going to work on his rockets. The rockets were Alfons' passion, his life...
It was clear that Alfons had started to let go.
Edward's head suddenly turned towards Alfons when he heard a harsher, wetter breath pass over the boy's lips. He leaned down, flesh hand rubbing at Alfons' side as he tried to soothe him in any way he could. But there wasn't much he could do when Alfons was so frail, so weak. With what little strength he had left, Alfons managed to press back into the touches to let Edward know that he felt them, that he was grateful.
Again, Ed's eyes darted to the medicine bottle. But Alfons saw him, reaching up with an unsteady hand and tugging at his shirt; he didn't want his last few hours to be spent with Edward still fighting this. Alfons couldn't speak, but his eyes said enough to Ed as they looked at each other.
'Let go, Edward...'