Hatchetfield.

Ill love you. Little brother.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

"Y-You're bleeding..."

This couldn't be happening.

A weak chuckle from his little brother below him. "This is bad, right?"

Not to Ted Spankoffski.

Another weak and defeated laugh.

"Ted—it's-- it'll be fine. This is okay. You'll be okay," Peter attempted, though his voice faltered.

"No!" Ted cried out. His breath was caught in his throat, and he could feel his chest constructing tightly. "It's not okay, Petey! This can't be happening - you can't die...I wouldn't even be me without you by my side!"

That earned him a sad smile, only further breaking his heart.

"Ted.. You're being so overdramatic-- big bro-, look at me."

He didn't know when his eyes had squeezed shut, but they flew open at Peter's command. The tears hadn't stopped, and now Ted could see him crying as well. His attention remained on his broken and dying brother, holding him close. He would never let go - he couldn't.

Another sob broke from his throat as he attempted to speak again; he was shaking, and poor Peter shouldn't have to see him like this. This isn't how it was supposed to end, anyways. He was too young.

"I'm not being overdramatic!" Ted finally got out. Peter only gave a pained grunt in response, but enjoyed his final moments this way.

"You can't leave me, Peter Spankoffski, I-- I need you. God, I need you!"

The face staring back at him was full of brotherly love. It was full of adoration. It was full of life, and a smile was present as well. One he had seen daily, one that has helped him through the darkest times, one that was forever in his dreams, and...

One he would never see again.

A weak breath of, "I love you, big..bro.. I love you forever, I always have and I always, always will," passed Peter's lips before he was coughing violently, hands shaking as he clutched Ted's arms in desperation. He could feel the life leaving him, he knew that - they both did.

The tears only fell faster with every sob and murmur of "I love you too..." Ted returned, now pressing his hands to the wound to stop the blood flow. He needed to hear Peter speak again. He couldn't lose him yet he just needed more time if only he could stop the fucking blood!

In an instant, everything went silent.

Peter's grip fell. The coughing stopped, and so did the breathing. Time froze. Only lifeless eyes stared back at Ted's broken form.

Peter Spankoffski was gone.