TW: You will cry, the feels are soo strong. Very Angst       

Title: ~Dying~

You’re dying.

“Go away,” Xephos hissed at the wall. He rolled over in bed, coming face to face with a confused dwarf.

“Who’re you talking to?” Honeydew quizzically asked.

“Myself,” Xephos grumbled good-naturedly. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’ve been talking to yourself a lot lately,” said Honeydew, wiggling forward so he could hug Xephos.

The spaceman smiled in return as he wrapped his arms around his short dwarven friend. He could see by Honeydew’s face that the dwarf was surprised to find him so thin, his boney frame so apparent beneath his clothes.

“Say, Xephos, have you been eating properly?” Honeydew mumbled, pressing his face into Xephos’ chest. “You’re really skinny.”

“You’ve been eating everything,” Xephos retorted teasingly, poking at the dwarf’s belly.

“No, really,” Honeydew said, lifting his head to meet Xephos’ blue eyes. His brown eyes were concerned, but also partially scared.

“I’m fine,” Xephos soothed him. He gently pressed his lips to the dwarf’s, then shut his eyes and slowed his breathing to make it seem like he was going to sleep.

Yeah, you’re “fine,” the voice taunted him. How long do you have, a year? Go home, scared little spaceman.

Xephos lay there, his breathing slow and even, until he was sure Honeydew was asleep.

“I can’t go home,” he told the voice under his breath. “I don’t want to.”

Have fun in hell, the voice laughed.

To tell the truth, Xephos hadn’t been eating well. He found that he was sick whenever he ate anything, so he was hungry but couldn’t keep any food down. He never ate with Honeydew anymore, instead staying by himself when he attempted to eat a meal. He coughed a lot, too, and found he could never stop.

He knew what was happening. It was the mæledcite e qûod hœmø ex spåtiø - the curse of the man from space, in the language he spoke now.

It was the downfall of his entire race. They could not live extended periods of time on any planet but their own - living on a different one would more than halve their lifespan.

Here I am, Xephos thought miserably. Not even in my thirties, and already beginning to die.

Entangling his fingers with Honeydew’s, he pulled the dwarf closer and fell asleep, only to be woken by a nightmare, and repeated the haunting cycle. This restless pattern had started about a month ago, but Xephos was almost used to it by now.

“Xephos, are you sleeping well?” Honeydew asked hesitantly the next morning. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine, friend,” the spaceman responded, waving one hand dismissively. “Just worried about the new factory, that’s all.”

“Don’t be,” the dwarf said with a laugh. “I’ll make sure it all works out fine.”

Xephos sighed. How could he tell Honeydew what was happening? He knew the dwarf would panic and demand he return home immediately - but how would that help? He couldn’t get home; he had no idea where his planet even was.

Xephos was alone in an alien world. He was suffering by himself, refusing to weigh down his friends with his troubles.

Xephos was dying.

Months passed. Xephos grew weaker and weaker, until he no longer carried the heavy diamond sword he loved in its sheath on his hip. He’d replaced it with a lightweight aluminum sword that was much, much weaker, but far easier for him to carry. Honeydew had noticed his thinness with growing concern, and he always handled Xephos with care.

“I’m not fragile, Honeydew,” the spaceman said one night, when the dwarf was hugging him as though he might break.

“You’re only bones,” Honeydew said, looking up at Xephos with eyes full of fear. “What’s wrong, pal? What won’t you tell me?”

Xephos sighed. He only had a couple of months left; it was time Honeydew knew.

So he told the dwarf everything. He told him he was dying, he could barely eat anything, he almost never slept, but he couldn’t do anything. He told him that he had three months at most, if he really held on at the end.

Without a word, Honeydew gently shoved him into their bed. Ignoring the spaceman’s protests, he pulled the covers up over Xephos. Any attempts made at escape were easily stopped, due to Honeydew’s dwarven might and Xephos’ weakened state.

That done, Honeydew sang the spaceman to sleep. Not his fake screaming singing, but an actual gentle song that was soft to the ears and warming to the heart.

“I love you, ‘Dew,” Xephos mumbled sleepily.

Honeydew smiled through his song. 

"He looked above the trees and mountain height, and saw a moon so blue…"

For the first time in half a year, Xephos slept peacefully. He was only disturbed by the rising sun - the light of a beautiful moon had cast his nightmare creatures in shadow.

The dwarf refused to let Xephos work himself too much. The spaceman was given the easiest jobs that required the least manual labor. Xephos would’ve protested, but he honestly needed it now. He couldn’t keep up with Honeydew, let alone Lalna, who knew only the barest details.

Another month passed. Xephos could no longer do work; he slept most of the time, and ate next to nothing.

Honeydew went to the spaceman, early in the beginning of the new month. He seemed even more nervous and sad than normal.

“Men are here, Xephos,” he said bluntly, his voice quiet. “They came from the sky and asked to see you.”

Xephos instantly knew what had befallen him and his friends. “Ask for Riker, and if he answers, bring him here.”

The bearded dwarf returned with a spaceman just as tall as Xephos, his eyes also blue. Honeydew was kicked out as the two discussed something he couldn’t quite make out through the door.

When Riker emerged, he seemed extremely angry. He let loose a stream of what Honeydew could only assume were curses, and stormed back in the direction of his ship. The dwarf anxiously slipped back into the small house, his brown eyes trained on Xephos.

“They want to take me home,” said Xephos without looking up from the floor. “I’m important up there - or, I was. I don’t want to go back.”

Pain flitted briefly across Honeydew’s face. “You’ll die,” he murmured.

“I’d rather die loved than live alone,” he mumbled in response, weakly struggling as he sat up and planted a kiss on Honeydew’s cheek.

The dwarf went to fetch him water, reluctant about leaving him behind.

Xephos laughed faintly. “I’ll be fine, friend; don’t worry so! It’s bad for your health.” He laughed again at the terrible joke, but it broke off in a violent cough.

When the spaceman looked up, blood was splattered across his sheets. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing when it came away bloody. In a quick reaction so Honeydew wouldn’t see, he shoved the blankets onto the floor and carefully rearranged them.

The dwarf returned with the water, which he gave to Xephos without even glancing at the sheets crumpled on the ground. Xephos thanked him quietly, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table.

In a flash of panic, the spaceman’s blue eyes went wide, and he clutched at his chest. He jerked towards Honeydew, reaching with one hand, but collapsed limply onto the bed.

The dwarf quickly checked that Xephos’ pulse was steady, then hefted him out of bed and threw him over his shoulder. He was scarily light; really, nothing but skin and bone.

When he handed the spaceman over to Riker, he couldn’t help the way his hands lingered longingly at the edge of the maroon jacket. He couldn’t help leaning up and kissing Xephos’ forehead gently, in a goodbye Riker would never understand.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, then stepped back and nodded to Riker.

“The drug I used isn’t very strong,” he said. “He’ll wake up soon, and he’ll try to escape. Don’t… don’t let him.”

Each word killed the dwarf. He wished he could die, just because he knew the pain this would cause Xephos.

Riker nodded. His friends followed him swiftly to their small ship, which was perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean. 

Honeydew had told the truth; the drug was weak. Xephos stirred as the large door into the ship began to close with a hiss and a clank.

“Honeydew!” The scream broke the dwarf’s heart, and he turned to see Xephos reaching out from where Riker had slung him over his shoulder.

“Xephos!” The sound Honeydew let out fell somewhere between a scream and a sob, and the dwarf found his own hand rising to reach for Xephos.

The door slammed shut, but Xephos’ yell echoed off of the tall, sloped cliff sides around them. It taunted Honeydew with the decision he could only regret forever.

He knew Xephos wouldn’t be returning. The pain was unbearable. He didn’t know how he’d live.

He went back to Xephos’ bed.

And he cried.

You’re dead.