A/N: I've realised even though it's my current obsession, Evil Within has a relatively small fandom. Time to add to it something that will likely never be read, I thought! *Contains light traces of Joseb

The first time Joseph watches Sebastian die he doesn't do anything. He could, but he doesn't. He has a split-second to sprint over and save his best friend's life-

But he can only stare.

One of the Haunted are all too close to his partner (friend? Did he say that? Can he say that?) and he's calling out to Sebastian to 'hit the bastard'. Seb calls back, pleasantly sarcastic, that he's 'too busy right now'. Joseph's seen another one of the beasts approaching from behind, but his every shot misses and his calls to Seb are ignored.

"Behind you! It's got a sickle!"

The sudden wind carries his voice away, and Seb merely turns in confusion. Joseph is yelling now, at the top of his voice, but the other man has his eyes set on shooting down some jackass in a mask. He doesn't bother to glance behind himself, and all Joseph can think is that he's fought worse. (He's fought demons and monsters, and Joseph knows he's struggled against things he can't even imagine but this is Seb and-)

The sound of flesh being sliced open releases him from his reverie as he watches Seb flash around to greet the sickle. Joseph watches his friend's expression morph into one of intense pain and, before he has the chance to react, he is stabbed again in the chest.

Joseph Oda can't breathe.

His knees buckle and his axe falls from his grasp - and Sebastian screams- but he is rendered motionless. Tremors run down his spine as the world goes silent. It's not possible, he thinks, feeling his hands shake and chest clench. He refuses to be believe his eyes as Seb (stupid, stupid Seb) collapses with a guttural howl.

His chest is split wide, and it's the first time he's ever truly shown his heart to Joseph.

There's blood, of course. It splatters out in mad bursts and paints the stone floor red. A single plash of scarlet leaps to smooth against Joseph's cheek, and he feels his mouth open in shock. He's screaming now, and the blood runs down his lips. He can taste it, and it tastes of death.

Seb has always been the strong one. He's a brilliant shooter, and Joseph can no longer count how many times the older man has risked his life for the sake of his partner. Seb is his only anchor to whatever's real anymore. Seb is all he has.

Seb is dying on the ground.

He's not sure how he reaches the man. He can't remember running nor crawling, though the glass collecting in his greying knees begs to differ. He's shaking Sebastian's shoulders (too roughly) and pleading him to get up. The creature with the sickle is dashed in pieces across the ground (Did Joseph do that? He can't recall) and Seb is still. He's not muttering pissy complaints or witty remarks, or even whispering his last words. There's no flash-bang; no drama. Sebastian is dead.

(And it's all Joseph's fault)

He's staring at the body thinking that it can't be real, but nothing in this world is real. Does that mean this is real? His mind runs in tangled loops, uncertain and yet desperate for an answer. Every consideration is a mess of chaotic concern and all too fast to keep up with- he can't bring himself to think clearly, even for Seb's sake. His reasoning is in shambles and it's Seb's fault but it's his fault.

Joseph Oda breaks through a wretched sob to submerge his axe in some poor bastard's sunken head before returning to stare at Sebastian's own, now cradled on his lap. Joseph can't remember if he died like that ("What a fucking gay way to go," Seb would have said) (he can't now) or if he's pulled a corpse onto his thighs- but he doesn't care right now. His vision blurs and he knows he's crying. It's a broken sort of weep, though. There are no muffled sobs or subtle shudders of breath; it's merely two translucent cords, trailing a wetness down his cheeks. His tears seem plenty in supply, and Joseph simply lets them fall.

He wonders about all the moments that brought them to now. Each little mistake and the ones that were too big for quick forgiveness, every petty feat they'd toasted to, and the times when they thought they wouldn't make it (but pulled through, because they're Jojo and Seb, and they have to survive). But this time they couldn't.

Maybe (probably), Joseph thinks, Sebastian should have let him die. He remembers the cool touch of a foreign trigger against the tips of his fingers, and how he thought he would pull it. How he was sacrifice himself as a burden to Seb because he thinks Sebastian would do the same for him. The damn hypocrite. If only Joseph had done it in time. It could have all been over with a scary noise and the guilt of leaving Seb alone- instead he's forced an early death upon his only friend in this hell, and Joseph knows that it's about time he does the deed.

He closes Sebastian's eyes (not because of tradition, but because he doesn't want his partner to see what happens next) and slowly draws a shotgun from the man's limp belt. Joseph doesn't even think he's breathing now- he's as dead as his best friend. He's always found relief in solidifying facts though, he reminds himself for a final time, as the barrel brushes against his matted hair.

He's not brave. Not like Sebastian. He even shuts his own eyes (tight) as a harsh click echoes before a sound so deafening fades everything into black.

(There's a nothingness to welcome him when he feels awareness hit him with cruel force. It's no heaven, and Joseph is alone, watching his own body slump against a charcoal floor. He's exactly where he was upon death, but it's not the same somehow. He feels like an observer, thieved of all power and devoid of motion. He is entirely still. The darkness engulfs him again but it doesn't feel like the end, and it isn't. His lungs kick into desperate action and his eyes flicker open and-)

"Joseph, cover me!" Seb is calling, dusty and rugged but unbloodied. Joseph feels his stiff jaw drop and he stares.

"S-Seb?"

"Now is better than later, Jojo!"

He's running, he realizes. He's returned to what was mere minutes prior. Sebastian is alive- the damn zombie things are close on their heels, but Sebastian is fucking alive.

Joseph swaps his axe for a sniper rifle with bone-breaking speed, shooting at all the mangled creatures he can and can't reach from their growing distance. Seb looks confused at his sudden anger and the passion in his trigger-happy shootout, but continues sprinting ahead. The older man picks off a few quick ones that Joseph is too busy to, but finds he has few to hit with half of them sprawled across the ground. All Joseph knows is that he needs to keep Sebastian safe this time. He can't afford to fail.

"Leave me some, jackass!" Seb grumbles loudly, but there's a grin on his sullied face. Joseph notices the lightness in his voice and the laughter to his tone and offers a small smile of his own with only brief hesitation. "Duck!"

Thrust into familiar routine, he falls to meet the ground as Sebastian rains hell upon the creature behind him. He's on his feet again within seconds and praising his friend for the kill. It feels odd, thanking Seb for murdering something that could have once been someone, but he's all too glad that his partner has regained his life to care for anyone else's.

He stands still, though, for a fleeting moment. Seb had died. Joseph, too. A certain emptiness stirs within his chest, but he remains on guard. The other man is waving to him, having discovered a new route to attempt. He shakes his head, disregarding the cold thoughts in favour of following Sebastian. It's natural. It's naïve and desperate. He depends on his friend more than the man ever relied on alcohol. And he had been dead.

But he wonders if any of that was real (again). Has Joseph finally lost his mind?

(Blood, everywhere- Sebastian's bleeding, screaming, not moving- dead dead dead dead-)

As his senseless legs lift into a tired jog, he distantly remembers a drunk conversation with an equally drunk Seb.

Sebastian's laughing so hard he's crying. He doesn't quite seem to remember why, and a merrily wasted Joseph isn't going to remind him that it's because he had seconds prior admitted his feelings for his best friend. The man is swaying in his chair, the sad look in his eyes veiled by a sluggish haze.

"You never drink with me, Jojo, why now?" snorts Seb. Joseph also doesn't want to confess that it's only because Sebastian makes a very sad drunk alone. He hates the guilt of leaving Seb forlorn in his empty apartment. He said 'just once', and here he is.

"Never again," he says, instead of answering the question. Sebastian doesn't care because he's too busy trying to open a bottle that's not even closed. It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. So unlike Seb. Joseph should point it out, but he's too busy watching Sebastian struggle with something that's not there.

"Hey, Joseph," Seb calls gruffly, as though he's no longer in the same room. Joseph nods, motioning for him to continue. "If I do die- and don't go all therapist on me, I'm not like that- what would you do?" There's a careful silence, suddenly weighted with a wary bond between two foolish men.

"You're not allowed to die, Seb," Joseph says simply. "I'd die for you first."

Liar.