This was an attempt to write an extremely sad story. And I probably failed miserably. Well, have fun with my ultimately crappy attempt at writing a sad one-shot. Some stupid AU TUE softy alternate ending-ish stuff.

SUMMARY: In the end there was nothing.

DISCLAIMER: no.

RATED: T for I don't know what.

Nothing

In the end, there was nothing. This nothing spanned across the entire planet. All was empty, all was gone. What was first created had come to an end, and all life had ceased to exist.

One thing used to exist. His name was Danny. His other self from ten years into the future (now 20 years into the past) had succeeded. The world was nothing more than crumbled structures and rotting corpses.

In the end, it wasn't he who had . It was Danny. It was my fault, he thought. All my fault for killing them. Who didn't stop them? Me. That's all there is to blame.

Actually, in the near end, there was one other thing. Just one. An old rose from his best friend, and crush, that stayed intact and preserved from the day she got it and beyond the date of her death. Her horrible, unjustified death.

Danny took this rose. He contemplated it. Learned all of it. It was a bright, deep red. The color of the scene that lay out before him when he saw them go. It was the color of the liquid that covered the edges, building, victims, and even himself. The silkiness of the petals ran over his fingers. The velvet green stem rolled in his pale, fragile tendrils attached to his hands. They were shaking. His eyes were glazed. This was the first time in twenty years that he ever dared to think about it. He lost control of his fingers. They crushed the rose, his fingers tight over it. One by one, the petals fell like leaves in the wind. And he dropped the crippled rose, rising to walk again.

In the end, he was all that was left. And he wasn't much anyway. And in the true end, he wasn't left either.

In the end, there was nothing but a single echoing scream. A scream of agony. It came from Danny, who had come back to pick up the rose. Just as he did, he screamed in pain. And he dropped dead, just like all the others, rose still in hand.

In the end there was nothing.

HOLY FREAKING SHIOT! That sucked like HELL. Oh my god…please, please, please, flame this to death. I beg of you. That's my last wish. Flame this piece of shiot to hell. I was laughing at the summary.

And please, give me a one-shot idea that could make me squeeze out a little tear…or you, if you read it. I need one of these. My last good piece of shiot was Failing Since the Start, and that was still crappy. I need one of those heartwrenching ideas. Please? And I WILL start on Never Again, just not now…