Miscellaneous gay crap

Death of an unsung hero

Grief. Loss.

Blood, so much blood, painting the earth, as red as HIS eyes, darkness, cold and deep, beckoning him to stay.

Screams, despair, taunting laughter, a pale hand falls.

Finally success!

Green eyes filled with tiredness and triumph.

Blue eyes hard, steely, unforgiving, hopeful holding hands with warm, fierce, intelligent brown.

He walks with them, tries to ignore the broken bodies, the ones who are never going to wake up again, never being children, never continuing to learn.

This has made him a warrior, he never truly had a choice.

They are searching ... For faces they know, friends, allies...

The smell of smoke and blood fills the air as they walk on.

Suddenly there is someone on the ground, lying in front of his feet, still in eternal... no...!

He knows this pale face, this light hair caked with mud and blood, those grey eyes, blown open in an exclamation of surprise.

He isn't aware that this is him screaming... sobbing... falling on his knees, begging him to "please wake up... oh god please ... I'm so sorry I couldn't... I..." until she, warmth, sister in all but blood kneels down next to him, holds him, keeps him safe and grieves alongside him.

For a fallen tormentor and bully who had found his courage. Had stood up against his own father in order to defend them. Who had become a friend. And more.

He isn't aware that he is crying, that his entire body is shaking and that he clutches the broken body.

Then... Only then can he smell it... under all the tears, the blood and the sweat there is still the soft smell of cinnamon. His smell... the smell that haunted his dreams...

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his breathing stutters, is erratic from crying but somehow it comforts him.

She softly reaches forward and closes the grey eyes, makes him look like he is sleeping but he isn't and then. She says it. The words that cut him open like a knife, destroy him all over again:

"He died for you."