Clay's fingers are slick with a thick dark liquid and his gun is missing from its holster. "George." He whispers, knife falling to the ground. "Get away from me." George sobs as he presses his back against the wall. "I'm sorry." Clay says softly, and grips George's collar with a white knuckled grip. ----------- NOT MY WORK!!! This is by 'purplesunsets' on Ao3 I put an Ao3 fic on here because lots of people don't know how to use it (me lol) or know about it :) COVER ART BY 'kornflaeke' ON TWITTER

When your whole world is falling apart what are you supposed to do? Fall into panic, or act like everything is okay on the outside when deep inside it really wasn't. Clay decided to do just that, when his dad dies he is completely crushed, only then to find his best friends both lay dead on the blood filled hardwood floors. He decides the best way to get over all of this was to push it aside, act like nothing happens and shut everyone out. He can't trust anyone. However that unexpectedly changes when George finds him lay mourning in the rain on the afternoon of his dad's birthday. -Suicide (in the beginning)/suicide attempt -Panic attacks/anxiety attacks -Separation anxiety disorder -Mentions deaths/suicide -Self harm/blood REWROTE THIS TO A PLATONIC STORY

George is 17 and in his last year of high school when he gets terrible news. After having weird nosebleeds, strange bruises and a lot of dizziness, the doctors find out George has leukaemia. George's best friend, Clay, is there the whole day for George and as George fights his battle against leukaemia, Clay supports him in every way possible. He shaves his head too and is there with George in all of his chemos. He buys George his favourite beanies and even let someone make one for him. But doctors start to lose hope of George ever getting better and since there is no match for a stem cell transplantation, there is only one person left to help him. Only the chances of that working are even smaller. TW's: -Leukaemia (blood cancer) -Chemotherapy -Tube feeding -Throwing up

Stars are like candles. When they're lit, they are beautiful and bright, through darkness. And eventually, they are blown out, to reveal light and daybreak that wasn't there before. It repeats over and over again, and I sometimes wonder; we are like stars too. We are here one minute, then gone the next. We are seen in some places, and not seen enough in others. We believe light will guide us through darkness, our enemy. When we unite together, we can create something truly beautiful. And yet, we can be spread apart, alone in the black sky. We have been through what we think are the darkest times, and have always had a light to guide us through. George was my light. My star. Until he too was blown out.