I'm getting inspired by songs more often than not, so be prepared for a hell of a lot of song fics.

This particular one was partly Green Day and partly my angst-fed brain. There are a thousand different illnesses I could have used, so I kind of left it up to interpretation and personal preference.

Old musical references if you know what to look for.

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~ Hamlet's PoV ~

I nodded to the lady at the desk, not needing to give my name anymore. I'd been here enough times to know exactly where I was going.

I made my way to the wing he was in on autopilot. Checking the clipboard as I always did, I had to physically hold my tears back. I couldn't let him see me like that.

He was going to die on the fifth at around 5:30. Today was November fifth, the time was 5:00.

I wasn't fucking ready for this.

Making sure my walk was relaxed and casual, I opened the door and approached the glass.

Horatio was sitting on the bed, frantically bouncing his leg and glancing at the clock every few seconds. He looked up as he heard me tapping on the glass.

Immediately, his anxiety faded and he even managed to give me a wide grin. He came up to the glass where I was standing and pulled out his phone.

Tired of living: Hey

Scared of dying: Hey...

Horatio mouthed the lyrics to our contact names, smiling enough to make my heart flutter and crack at the same time.

Scared of dying: So, today's the day

I shook my head and angrily typed a response.

Tired of living: No it fucking isn't! I don't care what the doctors say, you're going to live through this!

Horatio gave me a look through the glass.

Scared of dying: You're making this harder than it has to be for both of us

Tired of living: I'm sorry

Scared of dying: I know, love

There were those damn tears again. I turned away a little and frustratedly wiped my eyes.

Tired of living: Not just for that

Horatio tilted his head in confusion.

Tired of living: I'm sorry you're sick, I'm sorry it's not me in that glass box instead

Scared of dying: No. Shut up. I'm glad I'm in here and not you, I couldn't stand on the other side of the wall knowing that you were in here

Tired of living: And how do you think I feel? It's fucking torture knowing that I can go about my life while you're set to die today!

Goddamn tears. I'd stopped trying to keep them away and they were now streaming down my face.

Neither of us responded for a moment, just looking at each other and wishing the stupid glass wall would disappear. I didn't care that it was keeping me alive. I needed to touch him again. I physically needed to hold his hand, to hug him, to kiss him.

But that couldn't happen.

I pulled out my earbuds and sent him a link. He turned up the volume on his phone and clicked on it, his finger hovering over the unpause button. I held up three fingers, then two, then one. The song played in sync through both devices.

(A/N: If it wasn't obvious, play the song now.)

I mouthed the lyrics, keeping eye contact with him as we both cried.

"I text a postcard, sent to you - did it go through? Sending all my love to you. You are the moonlight of my life every night, giving all my love to you..."

"My beating heart belongs to you," Horatio mouthed, joining in. "I walked for miles till I found you."

"I'm here to honor you. If I lose everything in the fire, I'm sending all my love to you!"

I could hear his voice faintly through the glass. He was actually singing along.

"With every breath that I am worth, here on Earth - I'm sending all my love to you! So if you dare to second-guess, you can rest. I assure that all my love's for you."

Horatio placed his hand on the glass, and I put mine against his. God, I wished I could touch him.

"My beating heart belongs to you!"

"I walked for miles 'til l found you. I'm here to honor you - If I lose everything in the fire, I'm sending all my love to you!"

We swayed back and forth with the instrumental. By this point we were both emotionally drained, so we slid to a sitting position. I leaned my side on the glass so I could still see him, and he mirrored me.

As the song continued, I tapped the rhythm of my part with my nails on the glass. He did the same.

A nurse would poke their head in from time to time, but they always backed out when they saw that we were having a moment. Thank God for considerate hospital staff.

I heard a thump against the glass as Horatio tensed up. He gritted his teeth in pain and slammed his fist into the floor. A fresh wave of tears decided to make their way down my face as I saw him like that.

I wasn't ready. I glanced at the clock, reading 5:38. Fuck, I'm not ready for him to not be here, he has to hold on a little longer-

My internal panic attack halted when Horatio leaned his forehead on the glass, which now had small blood smears from his coughing. I mirrored his position, begging whatever higher power was listening not to take him away from me yet. I didn't deserve him, but he needed to stay here for a little longer, because I'd be damned if I knew what to do without him.

I could hear his pained shouts through the wall. He clutched his throat as he coughed again, more blood coming with it each time.

Even though I knew he couldn't hear me, I began talking.

"Baby boy, please hold on! I know it hurts, honey, but I can't lose you! Breathe for me, okay? Horatio, I need you to stay here with me!" I cried.

He was on the floor now, curled up as tightly as his body would let him. Every muscle in his body would tense, then relax, then tense, then relax, and he kept opening his mouth in a cry of pain. I could only imagine what he was going through, but I did know that I would gladly endure that pain if it would put him safely on my side of the glass.

My mind went blank as doctors and nurses rushed in. Someone ushered me out, and I stared blankly as a different person approached my a few minutes later.

"I'm so sorry, sir," they said with genuine sympathy. I nodded. "Your husband lived a good life. If there's anything we can do, please let us know."

I nodded again. It's not that I didn't feel like experiencing emotion, it was that I couldn't. Reality only caught up to me once I was in my car in the parking lot, where I proceeded to cry my eyes out.

~ Time skip ~

I rang the doorbell of Ophelia's house, making sure it wasn't too obvious that I had been sobbing. She opened the door with a sorrowful look on her face.

I didn't need to say what happened. I simply pulled her into a hug, and she let me do so. I moved away and composed myself when I heard the patter of small footsteps.

"Daddy!" my daughter exclaimed. She wrapped her small arms around my waist, and I hoisted her up into my arms.

"I'll go get your stuff, pipsqueak," Ophelia smiled, retreating to gather up the various objects around her house that belonged to the five-year-old.

"Hey, princess!" Even though I knew I'd have to tell her, I was unable to keep away the bright smile that she always caused.

Ophelia returned moments later with a small blue suitcase in hand. She passed it to me and ruffled my daughter's hair.

"Thanks for letting her stay here," I said.

"No problem. You know I can't say no to her little doe eyes," she laughed.

Once we got home, my little ball of energy dashed around the house. When she returned to me, she tugged gently on my shirt.

"Daddy, where's Papa?" she asked.

I lifted her up onto my lap, trying my best to not break down in front of her.

"You remember how Papa got pretty sick?" She nodded. "Yeah. His body is having a hard time fighting the sickness, and he's had to stay at the hospital so he doesn't get the two of us sick too."

"But when's he coming home?" she pouted.

"I-I don't think he can, honey," I explained. She tilted her head in confusion.

I tried again. "Do you remember what he used to tell you about angels?"

She nodded happily. I smiled faintly, remembering the nights where she'd have nightmares and ask to sleep with us. Horatio would tell her various myths from different types of folklore or sing to her until she fell asleep. One of her favorite stories had always been Eros and Psyche from Greek mythology, because Psyche got butterfly wings in the end.

"Well, I've always suspected that your papa is an angel, and that's why he knew so many stories about them."

She clapped and laughed. "Have you seen his wings, Daddy? He said that angel's soulmates can see their wings!"

I laughed with her and grinned. This precious human could always cheer me up.

"Yeah, I've seen his wings."

"What do they look like?" she asked, completely fascinated. I thought for a moment.

"Well, they're giant, for starters. If he stretched his wings out, I bet the tips would touch both the walls," I began. "They're feathery and white, but not blinding white. Each feather has a metallic glow, like if you pulled one apart you'd get a little piece of silver."

She looked deep in thought as I described the wings. Suddenly, she perked up.

"Did Zues need Papa up in Olympus, Daddy? Is that why he's not here?" She asked. I nearly cried at the subtle sadness in her voice.

"Yeah, sweetie. Papa's got a lot of work up there, but we can still talk to him. In a few days I can take you to the big stone with his name on it, and we can say hi. How dies that sound?"

She nodded happily, climbing off my lap and skipping away, presumably to ransack my bed for stray feathers.

I could practically feel Horatio wrap an arm around my waist and lean his head on my shoulder.

"It's okay," I heard him whisper. "You're both going to be okay."

~ Time skip of much longer than the last few ~

A woman in her late thirties was striding purposefully down the sidewalk to the cemetary. She expertly navigated the paths, arriving at the waist-high grey stone she'd been to a thousand times before.

"Hey Papa," she said, sitting down in front of the gravestone. "It's been a few weeks. I've been pretty busy with your grandson, I'm sure you understand," she laughed.

"But let me cut to the chase. Dad's not getting any better. The doctors give him a few weeks..."

She stopped to let out a choked sob, which was instantly replaced with a sad smile.

"But we're okay. He keeps talking to you, and I'm pretty sure he can't last a minute without thinking of you. He's lived long and well, and you deserve to see each other again."

The woman was properly crying now. She leaned her forehead against the cold surface of the stone, lightly tracing the letter O with her finger.

"He can't wait to see you. It seems like he misses you more every day."

She stood up, placing a small flower on top of the stone.

"I'm sending all my love to you."

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Jesus Christ, I feel like sobbing. This was originally going to be a very short one, just the first scene in the hospital, but I have no life and had the time to extend it way more than I thought I could. I was even considering doing an epilogue where they meet again in heaven, but I need to practice choir songs.

I bid you a fond farewell, faeries. May you never lose what you treasure most.