Every Rose Has it's Thorns

Realization

Clenching his fists when the breathless feeling increased, Eric did his best not to make noise so he didn't draw attention to himself. He did his best to power through it, but that didn't stop a tear from rolling down his cheek at the sharp pain in his chest. Exhaling sharply when it passed, Eric laid his head on his desk and closed his eyes. He sat up after a moment and stood up slowly, deciding to go wash his face. Beginning to debate if he should go to the infirmary again, the thought was quickly pushed out of his head at Grell's voice calling his name.

"What's up?" He asked her, stopping in place.

"Are you going to the bar with us tonight?" She asked.

He shook his head, sighing. "Today's collection was a little exhausting so I just wanna go home and relax."

She nodded and raised a brow, turning and walking away. Eric sighed and ran his hands down his face, continuing on his way towards the bathroom to wash his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, Eric noted how pale and sick he suddenly looked. Taking his gloves and glasses off and setting them on the edge of the sink, Eric splashed his face and sighed. He wondered if anyone would notice if he dipped out early and went home to sleep. Pushing his glasses back on his face and pulling his gloves back on, Eric went to his office, scribbled a quick note, slid it under Alan's door and left.

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Spotting the paper when it was slid under his door, Alan stood up and picked it up to read it.

'Really tired so I'm leaving early, I'll try and have dinner done before you get home. No promises. I love you. - Eric'

Frowning as he read the note, Alan wondered if something more had happened on Eric's collection that morning. Alan had been out on his own at just about the same time and had asked Eric if he needed help, but left when the other assured him he could handle it. He pocketed the note and stepped out of his office to head off on his next collection, his thoughts still focused on Eric. Walking through the door after work, Alan was greeted with the smell of chocolate chip pancakes being made. Leaving his shoes by the front door and hanging his jacket up, he made his way to the kitchen and pressed a kiss to Eric's cheek.

"How was the rest of your day?" Eric asked him, smiling some.

"Entertaining, I watched Ronald get rejected by not one but two different girls in administration." Alan said, laughing some.

"Ouch." Eric laughed. "I'm sure he sulked the rest of the day."

Alan nodded some. "In the middle of the hallway, in the exact spot both girls rejected him. He laid down and sulked like a child."

"That's just Ronald though." Eric said. "Being one of the younger reapers."

"He's not that young though." Alan said. "He's right around 21 or 22."

Eric shrugged some. "Either way, Ronald is Ronald." He said.

Alan nodded and reached up to grab plates from the cabinet, humming some as he set them on the table. He thought about asking Eric if anything had gone wrong on his collection, but decided against it when Eric placed the stack of pancakes on the table. Digging in, Alan hummed a bit as he ate. It didn't matter how worried he grew, Eric's cooking always made him feel better.

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After dinner, Eric sat with Alan on the couch an open book of poetry in his lap. He was staring off into space, the collection replaying in his head once more. He sighed some and shifted, looking down at the book and beginning to read again. He glanced over to Alan when he looked at him a quizzical look on his face.

"I'm fine, just zoned out is all." Eric said, pressing a kiss to Alan's forehead.

Alan only nodded and returned to the book he'd been reading himself. Noticing Alan had fallen asleep, Eric stretched out, marked his place, and set his book aside as he stood up. He carefully picked the other up and carried him to the bedroom. He placed Alan down on the bed and pressed kisses to his face gently. Managing to coax Alan to change into his pajamas, Eric sat down on his side of the bed and ran a hand down his face. He stood up and began to change, zoning out. He was pulled back to reality by the same feeling of breathlessness from before. He sucked in a breath before the sharp pain in his chest had him collapsing to his hands and knees. He gripped his chest, doing his best to keep from making any noises that would alert and wake Alan up. After the pain dulled and he was able to breath again, Eric sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He stared down at his hands, eyes widening when he saw the scars that had formed on his wrists.

In that moment, Eric realized he'd contracted the Thorns of Death.