A/N:

Shortly Before the End

Shoulders wracked with heavy sobs, his thin frame shaking with violent tremors as his chest heaved with each sharp, shallow inhale. Short, plaintive gasps choked with tears echoed in the large, silent bedroom, despite how inaudible they were from the outside. He made no effort to fight them. He did not try to collect himself, nor did he make an attempt at self-consolation. These tears were not the result of confusion or chaos or guilt. He had not been injured or hurt or otherwise physically violated. He cried not from shame or regret, nor was it fear that motivated his heart-wrenching sobs. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head held in his hands, and he mourned.

It was the haunting, terrible sound of a soul having been shattered. Unadulterated grief. The pure, obliterating realization of hopelessness that goes hand in hand with loss. Like the guttural howl of primitive ancestors, he grieved from that same reserve deep within the collective unconscious shared by all forms of life.

It was for this reason that upon the sight of him, his companion had nearly fallen over himself darting to his aid. He knelt on the floor to face the other, whose head was being supported by his own palms.

"Hey," He offered in a soothing, gentle voice, "it's okay."

The other simply shook his head in disagreement.

He tried desperately to ease the other's sobs, placing his hands on the other's knees hoping that it would at least get him to look up from his hands. "Shhh… it's over. Everything's okay now. We're okay."

He took in a long, shaky breath and gently laid his trembling hands on top of the other's. "No," he said, his expression calm and sad, "it's not."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to lose everything before it's all over. Irk, the Massive, the Empire, each other… there's no happy in our ending, Red."

His partner's voice was chillingly calm, despite his erratic breathing; it was something that frightened him, though he did not show it. "What are you talking about?"

Tear-streaked violet eyes that ached from overuse looked into their confused and worried red counterparts. "He's going to destroy us. Just like Spork. Just like… Miyuki."

The pain in his eyes was reflected in those of his partner. Red raised a clawed hand to Purple's face and rested it against his cheek. "I miss them, too." He said, choking on his words. "… I wasn't ready for any of this."

He felt the other nuzzle against his claw, "…I don't think they'd be proud of us."

"You're comparing their private selves to our public selves. You can't do that, Pur."

He shivered. "I don't want to lose you."

"You're not,"

"You can't know that."

"Yes I can." Red retorted, "Our mandatory Evaluations as Tallests are scheduled for the same day, and not for a very long time. We've arranged for our verdicts to read together, and I'm sure they won't mind deactivating us together. I know exactly when, how, and where I'm going to die. You can't lose me."

"We're not going to make it that long. We'll be trying to do something good, and he'll be there and it's all going to fall apart. You and I both know we don't have enough hands to reinforce the entire Empire. It's going to cave in under us. We'll probably explode, if we're lucky enough to deserve poetic justice. It's going to happen, Red, and it's going to happen soon."

He could no longer hide the fear that had become a block of ice in his stomach, and he felt a sickening dread creep over him, as if it were a dark, thick ink dripping slowly and blotting out the world.

"We're going to pay for his mistakes."

"It's been a long day, and we're both shaken up,"

"You feel it, too. I know you do. I can see it in your face."

"I won't lose you."

"That's not for you to decide. No matter how much you want to believe that you've got any degree of control over anything, the truth is that you're always at the mercy of something greater, no matter how tall, strong, smart, or respected you are. All it takes is a fraction of a second for everything to fall apart."

There was an honest, recognizable terror in his co-ruler's crimson eyes. If the trembling in his hands had not been enough to communicate the extent of his fear, the look in his eyes told Purple everything he needed to know. Red had known the entire trial long that foolproof as it was, it would somehow fail. They had hoped to be proven wrong, but they hadn't really believed that would be the case. He didn't want to admit that his partner was right – he did feel it – every day, more and more, they were inching closer and closer to the precipice of something. It was happening without his authority; he had not granted it permission and yet it could not be stopped. He hated not knowing. He hated the ambiguity. He hated not being able to do anything to stop it.

"We never even had a chance."

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