Stay With Me

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Summary: Let's just say that sometimes, when you're having an atrocious night, you need that special someone to be there for you...

Cover Art by: EliCritter (go check them out on Tumblr: @littlecrittereli)


"Chris!" Martin called for his brother. "Chris?!"

He was nowhere to be found.

Martin was running through a forest, unlike any other forest he'd ventured in before. He dodged branches, jumped over fallen tree trunks... It seemed as though the trail would never end.

The sun was shining through the tree leaves, making his surroundings all but beautiful. Yet, it all felt so... ominous.

Finally, he slowed to a stop. He thought he had caught a familiar shade of green from the corner of his eye.

Maybe even a hint of red.

He backed up and went to take a look.

...

His face dropped at the sight of his brother lying unmoving on the ground, like a marionette with no puppeteer.

"CHRIS!!!" Martin cried out as he dropped to his knees.

He quickly held his little brother in his lap, and nearly screamed at the sight of blood covering his abdomen. It didn't take long before his shirt got stained, though it was the least of his worries at the moment as he was too busy trying to put pressure on the wound.

Chris gave a faint whimper. His eyes were closed, almost in a lifeless way...

With a bloody, shaky hand, Martin felt his brother's pulse: it was weak. Nearly non-existent.

"No, no, no- " In a wave of panic, Martin held his brother's face close to his. "Chris, look at me. Look at me, I'm right here!" He begged him as he swiftly brushed his brother's hair back. He held his hand tight, heavy tears forming in his eyes.

Only two barely audible coughs came out.

"Y-You're gonna be just fine, I-I promise!" his voice cracked hard.

What even happened? Was it a wild animal?!

"M-Martin..."

Martin gasped softly hearing his brother's frail voice.

With the little strength he had left, Chris forced his eyes half-open, barely. He was terrifyingly pale; he had lost a lot of blood...

He met his brother's tormented gaze and, without a word, he simply smiled bittersweetly.

Martin's eyes grew wide.

No. This couldn't be happening.

"Chris..." Martin shook his head, his little brother still smiling at him. "Don't do this to me."

Chris' eyes began to close, his hand gradually losing grip on his brother's.

"Chris?"

Finally, his fingers were resting on the edges of his brother's palm.

Martin was left staring at his little brother's lifeless face, eyes wide from shocked despair.

"Christopher..." A pained cry escaped his chest. "Don't do this to me, bro. Come on..." He gave his body a vain shake. "No, no..." His voice was feeble, nearly broken.

With trembling hands, Martin slowly cupped his little brother's bloody face. His poor, precious little brother. His tears began to pour down harder than they ever did. He gasped silently as he buried his brother's numb face in his shoulder. He soothingly ran his hand through his hair, his lips pressed against his forehead. His glassy eyes wandered into nothingness as he painfully processed the fact that he was no longer there, no longer with him.

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