A/N: I'm sorry in advance. Listen to 'We Never Change' by Coldplay for a better experience.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

They say when you have something to lose, you're always afraid. Afraid that your world, which has been looking so good lately, will suddenly come crashing down. I don't know who they are, but they're right. And for the first time, I feel like I'm on the edge of that cliff, ready to fall into the dark.

I've been living with this strange, unsettling weight in my chest for a while now. But it didn't feel like it was mine. It was like something foreign, invading my thoughts, my body, my soul. Sometimes I couldn't even remember the last time I had a clear thought, something that wasn't muffled, foggy, slipping away before I could catch it. It was like drowning in an ocean of my own mind—lost and sinking.

I never understood that fear, not really. It was always something I read in books or heard in stories, something other people felt, not me. But now? Now I understood it, felt it, in the way my chest tightened every time I'd think about it.

I used to think I was invincible. That no matter how many times I was knocked down, I'd always get back up. That if I fought hard enough, things would turn around.

However as I lay on a sterile hospital bed, the only thing reaching my hearing being the beeping sound of the machines, I wasn't so sure about my strength anymore.

I tried to focus, but everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd felt solid—like my mind wasn't drifting. A nurse had come in, done something, said something, but it didn't stick. I'd been stuck somewhere between awake and not.

Then the doctor walked in. The way he looked at me, his face tight and controlled, told me everything before he even opened his mouth. There had been that look in his eyes, the one I'd seen before—the kind people got when they were about to say something that would change everything.

He sat down, pulled up a chair like he wasn't about to drop a bomb on me. I tried to focus on his face, but it was hard. My thoughts had been jumbled, and I couldn't catch them fast enough.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, like my face wasn't saying enough.

"Can I just hear what's wrong with me? I just want to leave."

He nodded, gripping the papers he was holding in his hands, like he was bracing himself for delivering soul-crushing news to me.

"Are you familiar with chronic traumatic encephalopathy?"

I slowly shook my head. "Is that what I have..?"

He sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not quite."

The doctor adjusts his glasses and speaks in a measured, professional tone. "Chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE, is a progressive brain disease caused by repeated head trauma. However, it can only be diagnosed after death, so we can't be sure that it's what you have. Have you experienced multiple concussions or taken hard hits to the head, perhaps from sports or other accidents?"

I nod, trying to focus as he continues. "When the brain doesn't heal properly after repeated trauma, over time, the damage leads to cognitive issues. Symptoms can include memory loss, confusion, mood swings, and difficulties with motor control. Unfortunately, it worsens as time goes on."

He pauses, watching me closely. "Have you noticed any memory problems or changes in your mood recently? These symptoms tend to appear gradually but worsen as the disease progresses."

A lump formed in my throat, tears threatening to form if I'd even do as much as try to speak. I exhaled shakily, staring at my trembling hands. "I forget words. Easy ones."

He nodded in understanding. "That's one of the main symptoms of CTE. Can you tell me if you've had a history of head injuries?"

"I've had a lot of them, I guess?" My voice cracked slightly, as I became unable to compose myself. "I spent three years at the troubled teens' camp."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He said, writing something on his notepad before looking at me again. "Do you have any history with addictions?"

I lowered my gaze, shame filling me completely. "Yes."

"Drugs?"

"Yes."

"It can most likely worsen your condition. Hopefully, you understand the severity of it if you'll continue using substances."

I nodded, glancing at him for a second before averting my eyes.

"What about the treatment?"

He paused, looking at me before sighing. "CTE particularly, has no cure. Although we will need to examine your brain further since there is a chance of your condition being something less lethal."

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I could barely think, could barely even process it. It felt like my body wasn't even mine anymore. It felt like everything inside me was collapsing, and as I tried to speak, nothing would come out. I felt my pulse pounding in my ears as my hands trembled with no control.

"So I'll die."

He didn't answer, but that was more than enough of an answer for me.

"How long?" I asked, not even meaning to. The words had slipped out before I could stop them, soft and broken. I didn't want to know. I already knew.

He hadn't flinched. "It's unpredictable. Could be a few years. Could be less. But it will get worse. Memory loss. Mood changes. Confusion. Eventually, the motor function will deteriorate. You'll start to lose control of your body."

I didn't know what to do with that. I sat there, feeling the floor disappear beneath me. My mind had started running, fast and wild, but it wasn't going anywhere. I thought I had time. I always thought I had more time. That if I kept moving, kept going, I could outrun whatever was catching up to me.

But I couldn't.

I thought about Minho. About Kallias. About Thomas. About how they'd stuck around when they had every reason not to. About how they had seen every broken, reckless version of me and hadn't looked away. But now I knew what this meant—for me, for them. I was going to forget. I was going to forget them.

I'd forget Minho's laugh. The way Kallias could read me without a word. The softness in Thomas's voice when everything else was chaos. All of it—gone. Erased.

The thought had crushed me. My chest had tightened until I thought I'd break apart. I didn't want to forget them. I didn't want to lose them. But it was already happening. I could feel it. The slipping.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I looked at the doctor, but I didn't see him anymore. I just saw the end. The one I knew was coming. The one I thought I could ignore.

"I'm sorry," he said.

But he didn't need to be. I already knew.

​​・・・・・​​⟢

I didn't think he'd come over so fast.

Barely an hour after I left the hospital, there was a knock on my dorm door, quiet but certain. I didn't want to open it. Didn't want to see the hope in his eyes before I crushed it.

But I did.

Kallias stepped in without hesitation, like nothing had changed, like he hadn't felt the shift in the air. "You didn't answer my calls," he said, breathless. "You okay?"

I nodded, though what was happening inside my head didn't match my answer at all.

I sighed, trying to compose myself before I'd blurt out the next words. "I don't want to do this anymore."

His face fell. "What?"

"This. You and me. I'm done."

The words hit harder than I meant them to, and still—still—he reached for understanding. "Wait, just—slow down. If something happened, tell me, don't shut me out—"

"That's the point, Kallias," I said, sharper now. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired."

He froze, confusion melting into something closer to panic. "Newt, please. Don't do this. Not like this."

"I've been out of this longer than you think," I lied, forcing the blade in deeper. "You just didn't notice."

He took a breath like he was bracing for impact. "I don't believe you."

I looked at him then—really looked—and maybe that's when it cracked. Because I did know him too. Too well.

"There is no red string. There never was," I said, and it hurt. God, it hurt. "No invisible thread pulling us back together, no fate tying us in ways we can't see. You keep searching for something that was never there, hoping for a connection that was never meant to exist. But we were never bound, never destined. Just two people who crossed paths. Nothing more."

He stared at me, like something in him had been ripped clean out.

"I don't want to see you again," I added, forcing the final nail in. "So don't come back."

I didn't dare to look, but I did notice that something inside him had cracked. Shattered, even.

Like he was trying to hold himself together, but all he had left were shaking hands and too many pieces.

His breath hitched. Once. Barely audible. But it was enough. Enough to tell me I'd done it—I'd ruined him in exactly the way I'd meant to. Because if I didn't hurt him now, he'd never leave. And I needed him to leave.

"You said you'd never leave me, Newt." His voice cracked, and my facade almost did too.

I wanted to hug him, to not be the reason that he was standing in front of me, completely shattered by me. The one who was supposed to be with him through it all.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. I wanted to scream that I didn't mean it—that I never meant any of it—but I stayed still, silent, cold.

He lingered by the door, fingers brushing the handle. "You know what's worse than losing you?" he asked, voice quiet and breaking. "It's knowing you're still here. Still breathing. And choosing to leave and forget me anyway."

And then, just like that, he was gone.

And I couldn't breathe anymore.

The moment the door clicked shut, the weight of what I'd done crushed me. I slid down the wall, pressing my hands to my face as the sobs started—ugly, unrelenting, and soaked in everything I hadn't said.

I had broken the one person who would've stayed.

And the silence he left behind was louder than anything I'd ever heard.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hi loves

I just wanted to clarify that I'm aware of the fact that CTE can only be diagnosed after death. Though I found out after I had already written this chapter, so I couldn't change it. However, I did make minor changes that will let readers know that this isn't a direct diagnosis, but it's the closest. I hope I haven't caused confusion<3

Take care!