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His laughter was uncontrollable.
It bounced and echoed off of the bathroom walls, malice and insanity apparent in its tone.
Uncomfortably apparent.
Uncomfortably apparent like the fact that it was not going to get better, in fact, according to the doctor it was just going to get worse.
It was killing him from the inside, eating away at him until there was nothing left.
Gnawing terribly, the fangs of knowledge of a terrible fate tearing and maiming skin.
He knew what was coming.
They both did, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see Victor crouched over the toilet, just laughing, laughing until he eventually puked.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see the man he loved dearly in such a state, hopelessly lost in his own mind.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see him try and apologize for something he could not and would not be able to control, always trying to make up for something that couldn’t be helped.
Ocean eyes grow darker each day, weighed down by tears and lack of sleep, the light in them growing dim.
Thick black hair thins and grays early, a white bathroom sink stained black by attempts of taking back stolen youth.
Delicate fingers, artist’s hands become shakier and shakier, until they are barely useful at all.
He’s thinner than before, and here I thought I was the one to be worried about. We’re going to need to get his suits tailored. Again. He won’t wear anything else, but I suspect it reminds him of the good old days, so I let it be.
The good old days when the two of us would dance in the kitchen late at night, or when we would read, or make love.
The house is so quiet I’m just about crawling out of my skin, but it isn’t about me anymore.
He’s quiet as well. It might be difficult to talk. I don’t know, he never tells me anything.
Why do you love me still?
His voice takes me out of my thoughts, and concern fills me as it does these days. Though it’s hard to conjure up feelings such as surprise or panic, all I feel is a blanketing melancholy.
“Darling, I don’t know what you mean. Please elaborate.”
Al, don’t give me that...I asked you why you love me still. My looks are gone, I’m a pain to keep up with, and when it’s all over I can’t even make it up to you. Remember-heh-Remember when you and I were still new, and I would practically shut down if you even kissed me? It didn’t even have to be on the lips. But then later I got over it, and it was your turn to be flustered...I know I’m too ‘fragile’ But shit, I wish I could do something for you.
So he hadn’t changed.
“Victor, you don’t need to do anything for me, your presence is enough. As long as you’re here, my needs are fulfilled. And I don’t want you to worry about me getting-Me getting tired of you, or something along those lines. That would never happen! It doesn’t matter how you look or how much you need or what you do or don’t. I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”
He smiled. It was the same, even after all they had gone through, it was the same smile.
Good. I feel like that’s the only thing keeping me going sometimes…
His eyes filled with tears, just like they had done so many times before.
God, Alastor, you’re the only thing keeping me going. Isn’t that something?
He began to shake, out of sorrow or joy he could not tell.
Oh, Al, I’m not going to last long. I can feel it.
That got his attention right away.
“What do you mean?” He asked, sounding more panicked than he’d like to admit.
I mean, I’m done. Spent. Over...Dying. A little more every day. And, you, Alastor LeBlanc, are the only reason I’ve held on so long. I feel it all the time, whether I’m asleep or awake, conscious or not. It haunts me. I’m feeling my mortality, that’s for damn sure.
“N...No...No. No!”
Alastor was gutted.
He felt more awake than he had in the past year, and for all the wrong reasons. This had been such a mistake, and he couldn’t figure out why. This couldn’t be happening, it was wrong, incorrect, false, a lie!
His knees felt weak, as if they would give out underneath him at any second.
“This can’t be...This isn’t-This isn’t how it was supposed to be! You-You were supposed to be healthy, and-And happy, dammit! Why-No!...Why did it turn out like this?”
Victor said nothing.
There was nothing he could say.
There was nothing he could do, that they both knew.
“I feel sick.”
Victor chuckled. It sounded like defeat.
Not as sick as I do.