It's not fair!

Those were the only words I could think of as it happened. Everything seemed like it was going okay, and they said he'd be fine. This was not what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to go into the surgery, and he'd come back out, all stitched up and better again. And after that we were going to go out to eat, but... Now that can't happen. I was too naive, and I believed their fallacies, and I thought that they could actually help him. I never wanted to trust them, but I wanted only the best for him, and they said they would guarantee that he would be alright! They said they could still help him, and they could make everything back to the way it was before.

But of course, like everyone else, they fucking lied to me. They gave me false hope that it would all work out like a movie, but here we are, and everything is not fine! Nothing is alright! If everything were to be alright, he wouldn't be here. None of this would have happened, and we would be at home, most likely sitting on the couch and watching a movie, but instead, we're stuck in this white, colorless room. The rain pattering against the window and the heart monitor's steady beeping was the only sound in the room. I wasn't crying. I couldn't even fully comprehend the situation, much less feel the correct emotions. There was a variety of feelings flowing through me: anger, sadness, shock, denial... He's not going to...

I hesitantly took a step towards his hospital bed, reaching my hand out and running it through his hair, which was slightly stained with dried blood in scattered areas; mostly near the right side, a bit above his ear. It was quite the contrast to his lighter-colored hair. I didn't like it at all. He looked so peaceful though. With his eyes closed, as if he were just taking a nap at home. If only that was the case. I sighed as I leaned my head down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, prolonging it for a couple of seconds.

The only thing that made me move away was the loud, continuous beep. My eyes shot open as I quickly averted my gaze to the heart monitor, only to see a flat line displayed on the screen. Fear coursed through my body, and I could feel myself shaking as I stared at it, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I looked back down at him, laying there so peacefully as if there was nothing wrong in the world. I frantically began to push down on his chest and perform CPR. I watched as my tears dropped from my eyes and onto his chest as I screamed out his name, but they were silent to my own ears, as all I could hear was the monotone beep of the monitor.

I kicked and yelled as the nurses filed into the room, pulling me away from him. I wanted nothing more than to stay, and help bring him back. Back to me. But I couldn't, as my brother came in as well, forcefully dragging me out of the room, and I watched helplessly as the door closed and there was nothing but silence. The hallway, empty and peaceful, was not where I wanted to be. I banged on the door with both my fists, yelling out his name, not caring about the weird stares the people passing by were giving me. If they were in my shoes, they wouldn't be so quick to judge. I was confused and scared. Nothing was working out right now...

It was kind of sad. He just asked me out the other day, and now here we were. I would do anything to go back to that one day. Where he had a small blush on his face, a bouquet of roses, and he was smiling. And breathing...

I couldn't stand it anymore. I began kicking at the door, screaming louder, and choking on my own sobs. I didn't know what else to do. I mean, the person I am in love with is in that room on his death bed and I'm standing out in the hallway where everything is quiet and peaceful, my sobs the only noise. My screams began to die down to just quiet whispers and sniffles. I took a step away from the door, staring at it.

"A-Are you alright?" I heard Gilbert ask from behind me. He should have known the answer to that question. Why would he ask me that at this moment? Of course I am not alright! He's dying in there, and I can't do anything about it.

I can't stand out here any longer, it's killing me from the inside out just standing here and looking at the door. So I ran. I ran down the hallway, away from the room, away from everything, trying to run away from my problems instead of facing them. It was a cowardly move, and I was stupid for doing that, but I couldn't do anything else. My heart was racing a hundred miles an hour, and I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn't that feeling you get when you have a stomach ache. It was a pain that I couldn't describe, and I felt like my insides were burning.

I didn't stop running. I ran out of the building and into the parking lot. There was nothing left for me. The only thing I had left was gone, and I was going to be alone. For the first time in the longest time, my legs were weak and I couldn't move anymore. I didn't know how to function, and I fell to the ground, crying. Crying wasn't something I liked to do, especially in public, but the situation called for it and I couldn't do anything else. Everything was just bland and dark, and it was like my entire life had been taken away from me right in front of my eyes. I didn't like it, and I wanted, more than anything in the world, to see him smiling and laughing... I wanted to see him going on and on about how he wanted to stop at that restaurant for pasta, and how excited he got when I would bring him some for lunch. Even though he would always order a ton of it, and it cost a lot, I would always pay for the meal, just to see the huge smile on his face when he got it.

Although he wasn't the cheapest friend, he was definitely the most valuable one. He was that one friend that you love, no matter how much they annoy you, and the one you don't even know how you became friends, you were just suddenly friends. One of those friends that you don't know what you'd do without, because they mean that much to you. Feli was that friend. It never had hit me how much he actually meant to me until now. Until he wasn't here anymore. It took losing him to realize that I need him. To realize that I had taken him for granted for so long. I wish I would have known how much he actually meant to me. He means so much more than I thought, and it's killing me to know that he isn't okay. That he isn't that smiling, weird, pasta loving idiot that I met and became friends with and learned to love.

It I had to go back. I don't care if they don't let me in, I'm coming in that room and they can't do anything about it. Nothing was keeping me from that room. I quickly got up and ran back into the building, pushing through people and forcing my way into the room. I stood there, panting heavily, and staring wide-eyed at him.

"Feliciano Vargas. Time of death: March 17, 2015 at 12:47 PM. Cause of death: collision in a motor vehicle..." The doctor continued to give the information as another wrote it down, but I couldn't let myself listen to him. It was not real! It can't be real! He's not dead! They're lying to me! I walked weakly to his bedside, my eyes still wide in shock, and ran my hand through his hair; it was soft, aside from the dried flakes of blood. His skin was pale. No, it wasn't just pale, it was gray. And it nauseated me to see that he was not full of color like he should be. Like it was before.

I could have stopped this whole thing from happening. This could have been avoided. That drunk fucking asshole killed him! He did this to him! And I could have stopped it. If I should have given him a ride instead of telling him I couldn't. I should have dropped everything, skipped it all, and went to pick him up. Should've. Could've. Would've. Of course, it was all in the past and there was no going back now. Why did this have to happen to him? Why can't I change places with him. Why can't I turn it all back? Why did he have to be the one that was killed? It should have been me. He did nothing wrong. He didn't deserve this, yet... Here he was, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wasn't God. I didn't have any magic powers to bring him back. I know that if I could have one wish, though, that I would wish for him to come back, and for me to be in his place. For me to be the one that was hit by the car. For me to have died instead of him.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Beilschmidt, but we need you to leave the—"

"Don't tell me what to do! He's already dead, what more do you want from me?! You can't honestly expect me to leave right now! Enough of your fake sympathy! Just shut up and let me process this!" I snapped, irritated and angry. I sat down in the chair next to his bed and pulled it closer, so I was right next to him. I noticed the doctors move away, but I didn't care to pay any mind to them. 

"Feli, you know, you always seem to get yourself into trouble. Of course, in most occasions, you would call me, and I would come help you, and you would ask me for some pasta, and usually I would sigh and say yes, because I couldn't be mad at you," I brushed his hair to the side, my eyes burning and everything blurry, "You're too lovable to be mad at for even a second. Irritated with? Now that's a different story. You drove me crazy all the time. I don't even know why we became friends. It just sort of happened," I laughed quietly, "but I don't regret it. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. You are my best friend, well, actually, boyfriend if we're being technical... I loved it when you would call me that. It made me feel happy, and..." I trailed off, and I could feel my eyes brimmed with tears, and watched as they fell down onto his chest, "I love you, so why would you leave me like this? It isn't fair."

It's not fair...

Not fair...

Not-

"Germany, why are you crying?"

~~~

I know it's really bad, and I'm sorry, but I can't write Gerita that well, but here's this, I guess? Sorry.