They lied, saying he was seizing and didn't know what he was grabbing. It was stupid, but they decided that they wanted him with them for the small amount of time he had left, not alone in a mental hospital.

He came back the next morning, now on a breathing tube. His eyes were dark and dead. His father was making him call everyone to tell them about the diagnosis. All this time, he's been avoiding everyone. For all they know, Lloyd just left the throne without any explanation, hasn't been responding to their messages, and then had a random "health crisis" last night.

He held the phone, his hands trembling. Not only was he going to have to say he has a terminal illness, but now he needs to explain how he got it. Nobody knows about his condition. Not even his cousins know. He tried to dial a number, then started to cry.

He already ruined the people who know, and now he's dragging more into his hell. François was away. He cut himself when he remembered his reaction. It was deep, deep enough where blood was soaking into his white sweatpants. It was all his fault.

The phone rang. It was Ho. Ho knows about his condition, but not about the cancer. Lloyd debated on answering. On one hand, he wouldn't have to explain his condition, and his uncle would tell his cousins without a second thought. On the other hand, he wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation until it's too late, and he wouldn't have the heart to explain it.

He picked up.

"Lloyd, are you well? You haven't spoken to me or anyone else in 39 days!"

"Hi, uncle." He was already crying. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yes, you can."

"Cancer." He blurted out. "I have cancer."

His uncle was quiet, trying to process what he said. He found it strange. Nobody in their family ever had cancer. He doesn't know much about Marie's side, but her family seems to be in good shape. Both of her parents are still alive.

"What type?" His voice didn't change.

"Overian."

"Stage?"

"Four."

"I'll research it." His nephew kept weeping. "Don't worry, you'll be better soon!"

"...yes, I will. Can you tell the others for me?" He sounded desperate.

"Yeah, I will. I'll do it right now. Bye, Lloyd!" Before the other could protest, Ho hung up and began to dial his son in Japan.

"Hello, dad. Nice hearing from you."

"Thank you, how's everything?"

"Good, good. Relaxing in bed." It was mid afternoon. His fiancee was sleeping next to him. "I have really exciting news."

"What?"

"She's pregnant."

For the next five minutes, Ho was happily talking away about being a grandfather to another grandchild and how excited he was to spoil and care for it. Haruki didn't seem to mind. He's seen him with Luna. That's his little princess.

"We're not sure about the gender, but it should be born in the summer of next year."

"That's so exciting!"

"Yeah, I know! Oh, have you heard from Lloyd? What's going on with him?"

With the same cheerful voice, he said, "Oh, he told me he has cancer."

"WHAT?!" Ho pulled the phone away from his ear. The fiancee woke up as Haruki went to a different room. "Father, why didn't you tell me before I spoke?!"

"Because that would be very rude, I wanted to let you speak."

He sighed. "Jesus, I can't believe it. What type? What stage?"

"Overian, stage four."

Haruki raised his eyebrow. "...but only a woman can have that.."

"Well, Lloyd was born with a condition called Intersex. It means he's biological a man, but he was born with female parts."

He stopped. He knows what that means. He's a doctor. He's never seen it in a patient, let alone from a family member.

"I see." Then the grief hit. "Oh God, he has two years left, if that."

"Yes, but also with his other conditions, it's more months than years."

Haruki started to cry. How could his father be so calm about this? He understands that things don't seem as serious to him, but this about Lloyd, dammit!

"It'll be okay, Lloyd will get better."

"Thank you for telling me. Goodbye, father."

"Bye."

Next, Ho called Susu. With his mood still bright, though not shining, he waited for her to pick up.

"Hiii, Daddy! How are you?" She sounded so happy. Her father hated to kill her mood.

"Lloyd has cancer." She gasped, her friends looking on with worry. "It's stage four."

She hung up before he could explain the other problem, crying in her friends' arms. Is that why Lloyd wasn't reading her texts? Why didn't he tell her personally? She thought they were close.

Now growing more and more depressed as he pressed the numbers, he called Valentino. He was the baby, and now he was going to break the news. It was morning where he was now.

"Who is this?" He was surprised to hear White's grumpy voice.

"Ho Tae Doh."

"Oh, hello, sir. Let me get Valentina."

He waited there, his stomach getting heavy. Great, now there were two people there.

"Hey dad, what's up?" She had the phone on speaker as she cooked breakfast.

"Is your friend with you?"

She giggled as the "friend" grinned, looking away when he noticed her. "Yeahh."

"Lloyd has cancer."

The world stopped. He looked at her. She looked at him. Not him, anyone but him.

"....what?"

"Overian cancer, stage four."

They did a double take. As far as they know, Lloyd wasn't trans. Why would he have overian problems?

"I don't...I don't understand..." It scared her to hear the utter despair in White's voice.

"He's intersex." They both gasped. "He needs support, but it'll be okay."

White covered his face. Why didn't he tell him before? He was with him in those monstrous years in the war, when he was in the coma, he supported him, held him, and all this time, he lied to him.

His face got red and hot as Valentina hung up, taking a minute for herself. They're like brothers. Lloyd knows everything about him. He knows about his family, church, favorite colors, things he likes, and Lloyd just hid this huge thing from him for nearly six years.

Finally, Ho went over to Sarah. He walked in and immediately asked to see her. She came in, looking so beautiful. She had an emerald crown, a white and green dress, and her gloves were white and covered with diamonds.

She was a grown woman with a child of her own, but even still, Ho still saw her as a child. The child that would ask questions about everything everyday, the child that liked princesses, the child that would fall asleep on his stomach after long days of pretending to be pirates or fairies. He was going to have to break her little heart. He was going to make her cry. He hates when his daughters cry.

"Appa." He snapped back when he felt her hugging him. "Appa, what's wrong? Why are you so sad?"

"Sarah, cupcake," She stared at him. He hasn't called her that since she was five. "Lloyd has cancer."

Luna walked in as her mother crumbled. She hid in the corner and overheard her grandpa talking about Lloyd's condition and the cancer. She ran off before they saw her.

---

Lloyd was overwhelmed with phone calls from all over the world. Two from Japan, one from Taiwan, three from Australia, and two from Vagu.

"Lloyd, why did you lie to me?!"

"You liar, why didn't you tell me during the war?!"

"Lloyd, please get treatment!"

"I'm so sorry I can't come see you, I'll send someone to help you."

"I'm coming, I'll bring you anything you need!"

He eventually put his phone on mute. He didn't even tell his friends yet. He kept imagining Charles' reaction. Here he is, planning his wedding, and his best man is dying. He's going to be so stressed. He'll ruin everything for him as well. Everyone in the whole world will know soon.

He heard scratching at the door. He let the animals in. He felt like a bastard for the way he treated them last night. He shouted and pushed them. And yet, they were licking his face and laying on him. He didn't deserve their kindness. He didn't deserve anything.

He didn't look the same. He wasn't the same. He wasn't happy, he wasn't singing. He really was yellow now. His skin looked like a lemon. The whites in his eyes were yellow too, making his pupils look darker. The only thing that wasn't yellow was his curly black hair. Even his tears were yellow. He always hated the color yellow.

"Lloyd." His father knocked on the door. He felt so helpless. He knew he couldn't make him feel better, he can't even make himself better. "Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah." He was lying. It was easy to hear the pain in his voice.

"Alright. Tell me if you need anything."

He hugged Benjamin and just cried into his fur. The dog sat there like a teddy bear, trying to sponge up all the dread from his owner. There was another knock, and then light from the hallway.

"Lloyd, the press knows." Beom sounded afraid to tell him. "They know everything, but your uncle didn't tell them."

"How-" he started to sob uncontrollably. Everyone knows he's a fucking problem. His dad hugged him. He didn't know what to do other than show him the headline.

"Former Vagian King, Lloyd Sauveterre, Diagnosed with Terminal Overian Cancer."

He read through blurry eyes. They explained his condition, how he was staying out of the press, and why he wasn't seeking treatment. The only thing they got wrong was what happened last night, they still think it was an accident.

He cried into his father's embrace. He hid it so well for nineteen years, now the world knows he's a monster. What will people say about their former general and king being a mistake? God, why didn't the attempt work?

"Everyone knows, dad! People know I'm a monster!"

What was left of Beom's heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "You're not a mistake! People won't think any less of you!"

"Yes, they will!"

The only person Beom could blame was himself. For the years he wasted being hateful came back to haunt him. Why was God punishing his son and not him? Why did fate decide to go over his baby, and not the man who spread his hatred? Why did it have to be him?

---

François was trapped at home with his grandparents. The doctors said his foot would be better in a few days, it really wasn't a bad sprain. But no, his grandparents were so worried that they decided to keep him with them. They have no idea about the cutting, if they did they would never let him leave.

He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with Lloyd, he's the one that needed help. Beom said he was just sitting in the bedroom, doing God knows what. All the sharp things and medicine were being hidden from him, but Lloyd's so sneaky it's ridiculous. He could be hurting himself right now and his husband can't do anything about it.

He knew it was all his fault. Lloyd was perfectly fine before he saw it. As hard as he tried, he couldn't pin his anger on Apple. She was only trying to help. He would never be angry with Lloyd. He found one person he could be angry with, and that bitch lived in the same house.

"François." The bitch was talking gently for once, how shocking. "Fran-"

"Fuck off."

"Please-"

"Fuck. Off."

Marcel closed the door. He had it coming. When he heard about what happened, he broke down. François was never angry with him before. He sounded like their mother, bitter and disappointed. The only difference between them was that his birthgiver was angry with him for being born, François had every reason to be upset.

He walked out the house. Despite being on winter break, he had nothing he wanted to do. He went to his friend's house.

"Here, try this." He put a blunt in his hand. "Makes you happy."

Meanwhile, at home, François got the word that two of his husband's biggest secrets were public knowledge. At first, he was scared about the public his own secret, but he happily discovered they didn't.

He immediately went to call Lloyd, but the phone declined. He sprung up, howling in pain. Grandma was there immediately, thinking he fell off the bed.

"I need you to drive me back home!" He limped to her, his eyes wide. "Lloyd needs me!"

"But sweetheart, you can't impossibly-"

"Now! Or else I'll walk there! I'll even crawl!"

Too tired to argue, she sighed. "Alright, relax. Let me get my keys."

On the way there, he called again. Nothing. He was close to tears when he finally saw the white picket-fence, the pink roses growing around it. Beom was already outside. François, who was on cruches, felt his mouth hang open. This giant war machine was crying like a baby into his wet tissue.

"Thank you for coming." His voice broke as he sobbed, grabbing his arm and bending down to help him get upstairs. "Things are very, very bad."

He cringed when he accidently stepped on the bad foot. "How?"

"God, he was so overwhelmed, he called himself a monster." He covered his eyes again, sniffling. "He started to have a seizure as we were hugging, it was so terrible. He's sick now."

Beom had to help him up another flight of stairs inside the house before he was by the door. His mind was racing as he picked off the nail-polish from his fingers while the other knocked on the door. After waiting a few seconds, he opened the door then closed it when the redhead was inside.

Lloyd was facing the wall, crying as he hugged Apple. He heard the breathing machine, it sounded terrible. An unwanted song. He never heard him so broken. He's cried before, but never like this. The closest thing he could put it to was when he woke up from the coma. It still wasn't the same.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

Lloyd turned around, shame bubbling in his throat. "Fr-François, you should be-be in bed."

"I'm fine, really. It'll be better by next Monday." He sat on the bed, feeling the other staring at his wrapped foot. "It's okay, honest."

Lloyd hugged him, sobbing into his red sweater. François held him, feeling tears slowly roll down to his trembling chin. He didn't know what to say. This secret was never supposed to come out. He doesn't know who told, but that didn't matter. It was Marcel's fault. This whole thing would've never happened if he kept his damn mouth shut. He wished he could go back to being mute again.

"I'm s-sorry about last night." He was holding François' wrist, bandages covering the scars.

"It's okay, I'm not angry." His tears became bigger. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to push you there."

"...no, it wasn't that. I've been bad for a while."

It was then that the redhead noticed the blood on his pants, and all the signs he stupidly missed. He's been so quiet. He was protective of his thighs and underarms, which were the places he would usually cut himself. Sometimes, he would randomly burst into tears and wouldn't stop crying for an hour. He stopped taking his antidepressants.

"How long have you've been doing that?" Lloyd looked up at him.

He cringed. "A month." He wished he never said anything, because the other started to cry harder, grasping onto his sweater.

"I'm s-so sorry! I'm a selfish monster!" He hiccuped, shaking.

"Not true. Cancer is really hard, and you're not a monster!" He cradled him, rubbing his shoulders.

"I'm not a man, François! I'm a monster, and now the whole world knows it! They're going to attack you and it's all my fault!"

He pulled off gently and held his shoulder. He never saw yellow tears before. It was another reminder of the poison in his body taking over him.

"I don't care what they have to say. I love you, and that's I know." He saw Lloyd physically relax, his breathing slowly going back to normal. "You are a man, you're a very strong one." Lloyd shook his head. "Yes, you are. You're not an animal, Lloyd. God just switched up your parts by accident, and that's okay. Things just happen sometimes."

"It'll be better when I'm dead, then things will be okay."

François' eyes widen as sobs escaped from his throat. Lloyd covered his mouth, he didn't mean for that to come out. He hugged him, rubbing his thin mustache.

"I went over my will the other day." François muttered no as the other went on in a hopeless attempt to bring comfort. "You'll get almost everything. You keep the house, half of my worth, you'll never worry about money." He started choking up. "You'll have everything you need. You'll have five billion dollars. You can give my jewelry to your new spouse-"

He was cut off by François wailing. He hated that sound. It rung in agony.

"I don't care about that! I want you, that's all!" He held him so close to his body that could fuse together. "I don't care if we live in a box, as long as it's with you!" He held Lloyd's thin hair in his fist. "And now you're talking about leaving me and you tried to kill yourself and I almost lost you and I'm so scared!"

Lloyd started sobbing again. He doesn't remember doing that. It was like he left his own body and someone else possessed it. That happened before. When he was in Coia, he felt like his soul leave. It was like he could see himself doing everything, but couldn't stop it, almost like watching a character in a movie. It happened again when he was stabbed. If it wasn't for Annie, he would've been absent all day. Then it happened last night, and he didn't come back until his father was crying like a baby as he sat by his hospital bed.

"I don't want to remarry! I love you!" He blowed his nose. "You're my spouse, no one else!"

"I love you too! I'm so sorry!"

It took them both a while to relax. Lloyd got lightheaded and started to see double, so François forced him to lay down. He didn't want to, until they started cuddling. He loves to be held, and he finally smiled when his husband touched his cheek and kissed his face.

"Please, please, please don't say like that anymore." François was looking at him in his eyes. He started to tear up again. Yellow was the worst color in the world. "I love you so much, you know that? I want to be with you like, all the time, and I really want us to be together forever."

"Me too." He hugged his neck, feeling bad for crying because it was staining everything. "I'm sorry for...for scaring you and making you sad..."

"Dear one, you aren't the one making me sad. There's so much going on. Marcel's being an asshole, my mom and that shit, life, and just so many other things." He sighed, rubbing his wrist. "But you're not one of them. I love waking up and seeing you."

Lloyd touched his wrist. François looked at him, his eyes bright. "Please don't hurt yourself anymore. I love you, and I don't want you being in pain."

"Then you can't do it either." He touched his thigh, Lloyd jumping in pain. "You promise?"

He looked down, tears spilling down his face. François touched his face, crying as well. He hung up his freckled pinky, waiting for the other. Lloyd wrapped his yellow finger around it. He then held the other's wrist and drew little smiles on the bandages.

"There we go." His voice was weak as the taller was sniffling and hugging him tight. It hurt, but it was okay. "Now you could smile."

François kissed his collarbone as he tried to do the same. The sweatpants were stuck to the cuts. Lloyd tried not to show it, but it did hurt him when the other yanked the pants away from it.

"I know, I'm sorry." He rubbed his back as he turned on his phone for light. His heart ached when he saw all the blood that stained his pants. He slightly looked down his pants. The cuts looked infected, that's the last thing he needs.

"It's okay, it's not painful." His voice was shaky, hiding his glance.

"It has to be." He kissed his forehead. "Be right back."

He pathetically tried to run to the bathroom, got things that could help, then limped back to the bedroom, stopping to give Beom a thumbs up.

"Alright, it's going to hurt for a second." He put some alcohol on a cotton ball.

He felt the shorter grasp his shoulder when it cleaned the cuts, apologizing and rubbing his back. He put a few bandages on it and kissed them.

"Thank you, Franny." He kissed his cheek, feeling him embrace him tighter. "I love you so much."

"My dear boy." He played with his long hair, kissing his neck. He felt Lloyd playing with his too. It wasn't as long as the other's, but it was long enough to be put in the smallest ponytail. "You like it?"

"Yeah, and I like your mustache too."

He looked up at him. "How about this: when you're all better, I'll cut it off and shave. Until then, I'll keep it."

He looked down. He couldn't break his heart again. "Yeah, that sounds good." He chuckled, his throat feeling tight. "You will be Achilles, and I Patroclus."

François only nodded. He never understood that story. There were heroes and in love, but the rest was just too confusing for him. He did understand hugs, giving him some as he kissed his face.

"Here's a present." He led his pale yellow to his mouth and kissed them. "Late Hanukkah present."

"Well, there's usually eight." His smirk was back, making his husband laugh.

He was leading his lips again. "I'll fix that."

----

Many people have shown support. Of course there were some assholes, but they were silenced by the thousands of lovely messages and prayers.

There was one letter, the first of thousands, that touched the former king's sick heart. He had to force himself to open it because he was afraid that it might be backlash. It was from Germany, written by a young child.

"Guten Tag, Mr. King!

I heard (about) your condition, and I want to say I have the same thing too! Mine is (like) yours too, except I'm a very pretty girl!

Mommy and daddy said I should never be sad and embarrassed about it, and I don't (think) you should be either. I never met anyone else like me, not even in movies. I thought (I) was the only one! But now I know I'm not!

I never knew I could be all these cool things because nobody else like me was cool things. But now I know I can be (a) warrior, a king, and married! (I) didn't know I could do that!

Mommy saids she hopes you feel better! I hope you do too! Your really cool! Don't be afraid of our condition. Daddy said God just made a little mistake, but he still loves us!

I don't (have) any friends because other girls say I'm too boy, and boys say I'm too girl. Will you be my friend?

Bye, Mr. King! Feel better!"

Lloyd was crying by the time he finished the letter. She reminded him of himself. He didn't have any friends either because the boys would say he sounded like a girl, and the girls didn't want to be friends with a boy.

"Franny, people still like me." He hugged him, his hands trembling.

"Of course they still do. Nothing changes, you're still you." He kissed his head, hair getting on his lip. "I really like you."

He smiled at him. "I really like you too."

----

At night, Beom sat by himself on the front step. He remembers running down those four steps last night. He remembers everything from last night, even the small details. How many pills bottles there was on the floor, how the air smelled as he ran, what Lloyd was wearing, what color his nails were.

The words that Lloyd said rung in his head. How could such a beautiful creature call itself a monster? He's always called himself that, despite being told he wasn't. He remembered how he felt the first time he heard that.

His son was only three years old. They went for a check-up with a new doctor. That bitch pointed to his miracle and dared to call him a beast. He slapped her across her face. Lloyd didn't understand, but he was quiet the walk home. When they got home, he sat on his father's lap. In his little voice that was learning Korean, he asked the question.

"Appa, why me a beast?"

It was easy back then to comfort him. He said it was because she was crazy, and he was okay after that. He had to spend years without Lloyd. He doesn't tell them what happened with that, but he said it was difficult.

Then he got his first period just a week after his fourteenth birthday. He was so upset, he couldn't stop crying. Not only because of the pain, but he said that he felt like a monster. Marie had to comfort him that time because Beom didn't know what to say.

Why did this have to happen? Was Lloyd born just to be in pain? Why were all his children in pain? He thought about the aborted ones. How he would've loved to keep them, truly. But Marie got so ill so quick, she was close to death. What else was he supposed to do? If she died, he would've never moved on. They would've never had Lloyd.

A tiny part of him was upset with her, though he knew he shouldn't be. She should be here. She should be sitting with him to bring some sort of relief. He wasn't surprised when her mental health became worse. When she was a teenager, she tried to take her own life after a fight with her brother. She thought he was so tough because he wasn't crying, but he wept like a baby when he was home.

Then, with each loss, she got worse. When the cancer came, she lost it. She said she felt like dying. She said she could hear Jo crying in her head. She said so many things that made him afraid. She needed help again. He did the right thing, he gave her what she needed. But nobody was here to help him. He needed someone so badly, and he was all alone.

Jr was heard before he was seen. He climbed on Beom, curled up on his hand, and fell asleep. Grandpa rubbed his ear. He smiled slightly. Things are horrendous right now, but there's still nice things, like kittens and stars.

--

Edward John Poynter
Faithful unto Death